#ooc: I went a little longer than intended with this but yeah here are some thoughts on her childhood on the islands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illumilu · 4 years

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“there’s only one bed” - hisoka morow x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? i roll with cringe. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this a bit too long, but who cares?? i have time, you have time and an incandescent loneliness to fill, so let’s get into it!

summary: you arrive at the hotel with hisoka, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. this is part one of a three-part series, with the adultrio. illumi and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! i’m afraid there’s no nsfw here... keep in mind it’s hisoka - i kept it as pg as possible... may be ooc i’m sorry :)

hisoka morow:

- you arrived at your hotel room, tired from the trip there, not quite sure what to expect. you stared at the single bed placed in the middle of the room, aghast. there must have been some kind of mistake. except there wasn’t. the room had been booked out of simplicity, with no specification on the number of beds, or anything else for that matter.

- and, of course, the man you had booked this room with was none other than hisoka morow.

- otherwise known as the most flirtatious man on earth.

- a little bit of backstory; as your strictly professional colleague, hisoka was always taunting you with his charming little phrases, treating you like his little toy whom he could mess around with.

- “oh, y/n! whatever will we do~?”

- you sighed in frustration. out of all the people you could have been stuck with on this trip, it had to be hisoka.

- hisoka sighed and pouted - not from worry or anguish - but, rather, to mock you. you shot him a dirty look.

- “my my, y/n... why so serious? it’s not like i’ll do anything~”

- the playful lilt in his voice suggested otherwise.

- while hisoka went off to take a shower, you busied yourself with your latest objective; making sure he couldn’t pull anything. being inventive as you were, you gathered all the pillows from the bed (which, for some reason, there were many of), and built a wall separating the two sides of the mattress.

- you got changed promptly, and lay on the left side of the bed, waiting for hisoka to come back. however, his shower ran for longer than expected, and soon enough you felt yourself becoming drowsy.

- just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard hisoka’s voice come from the other side of the room.

- he chuckled. “y/n, what do we have here? your latest invention~?” he teased, ridiculing you.

- “i don’t trust you.” you stated plainly, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t see him from across the strangely high pillow wall you had made, but you could feel him smirking.

- “...and for good reason, y/n..”

- he extended his arm and lazily ejected his bungee gum to attach to the pillows, knocking them over in an instant. damn. you thought you had made a pretty good structure.

- you rolled over lethargically to see him standing there; what a sight.

- honestly, you didn’t mind hisoka. it was just... he often became... annoying. as much as he irritated you, you had to admit he was quite pretty. striking amber eyes, streaky plum hair that fell across his face, soft lips and an overall impressive facial structure. not to mention his unique fashion sense that somehow accentuated his toned body. porcelain skin, with his childish paint, which was so often called on by you - “hisoka, do you put that on every goddamn morning?” - he was a fine man.

- but, when that bastard opened his mouth.

- what a contrary tale.

- he waltzed closer to the bed and eventually sat down with his legs crossed, like a child in a classroom - except, he was staring down at you, who was scowling at him.

- “hisoka. don’t pull anything. i’m going to sleep.” you ordered, rolling to your other side so you were now facing away from him.

- “oh y/n... but how could i resist you~?” he joked, lying down on his back, unnecessarily close to you. you tensed up.

- “hisoka.” you warned. except you didn’t really sound like you were warning anyone. some undertones in your voice urged you to let things happen - for an uncertain millisecond, thoughts of letting hisoka do what he wanted plagued your mind.

- the millisecond passed soon enough.

- the jester turned to his side, so you were both facing the same direction and began whispering in your ear with a smile. why was his voice so... smooth? so succinct and mellow? that was not the type of person he was. so why did you want to melt into him? he giggled childishly.

- “so... y/n... you wouldn’t mind if i did-”

- “-this!”

- all of a sudden, hisoka was embracing you, cuddling you and shoving his idiotic face into the crook of your neck.

- “HISOKA, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO GET OFF ME.”

- “oh, but if you wanted me off, couldn’t you simply give me a little kick~?”

- bright idea, madman. bright idea.

- you kicked him in the stomach, which invoked no painful reaction, but prompted him to roll to the other side of the bed, letting you escape from his clutches.

- “ah. y/n, that hurt~” he exhaled tiredly, feigning offence; it was more of a hum, which escaped his mouth like golden honey pouring from a dipper.

- “good. don’t come near me again.”

- “if that’s what you want, darling~”

- “don’t call me that, morow.” you glowered.

- “how scary... good night, y/n.”

- despite trying to hide it underneath his complacent ego, hisoka was beginning to worry. the man was attracted to essentially everyone, but something pulled him closer to you especially. you had a certain magnetism about you that he found increasingly attractive. why did he find teasing you so... enjoyable? why did he long for you to reciprocate? thoughts such as these had been swarming his subconscious since the beginning of the trip. he had pushed away such speculation, for it didn’t suit him.

- a man like him, a man who killed so depravedly, a man whom nothing was known about, an enigma of sorts; surely a man like that didn’t deserve to truly love.

- meanwhile, your brain was a motor engine; what had just happened, and why did you let it go on for so long? you had the reflexes of an expert nen user; so why did you let him stay there, nuzzling into you, before socking him in the gut?

- what a conundrum, for the both of you. looks like this cliche is reaching its peak, hm?

- you fell asleep soon enough; after all, the trip had been long and you were tired. not only physically, but also emotionally. hisoka wasn’t helping your case.

- hisoka himself often had trouble sleeping, which many people didn’t know. most nights, he just lay there solemnly, thinking of new card tricks or enticements for new victims.

- lately, however, he had been thinking of you.

- which he didn’t like at all.

- time passed as his mind whirred while he contemplated who you were, and why you made him so impressionable. suddenly, he heard something.

- he had his back turned to you but heard a shuffling of bedsheets. what time was it? 1am? 2am? he couldn’t tell, but he came to the conclusion that you moved around when you slept and left it at that.

- that was, until, he felt someone cling around his back and reach across his chest firmly, wrapping around his waist with their leg.

- that someone was you.

- if only you knew what you were doing, you would be appalled... maybe a little grateful... but for the most part, appalled.

- your soft breath brushed hisoka’s back delicately, making his nerves transform into an quivery yet arrogant smirk. your arm was wrapped around his chest and your leg was draped across his side. you were obviously deeply sleeping. he couldn’t see you from the way you were embracing his back, but he could have easily woken you up at any given moment.

- so, why didn’t he wake you up?

- maybe it was because he could tease you about it in the morning. yeah. that seemed reasonable. that seemed alike to what hisoka would usually do.

- or maybe it was something else, something he didn’t want to come to terms with, something panging within his heart, something festering inside of him, something that was a victim to his ignorance of emotion.

- much like he had done to you earlier, you burrowed into his shoulder, sighing contentedly, blissfully unaware of what was going on.

- blissfully unaware of the way you were ruling over hisoka, the way you were confusing him and making his emotions a tumultuous mess.

- surprisingly, you clinging to him helped him sleep, and within 15 minutes, hisoka was out like a light. though neither of you were conscious enough to experience it, those few hours you spent embracing each other felt tranquil. it almost felt normal, or like something that should have happened long ago, but never did.

- as peaceful as those hours were, the moment you woke up, everything crumbled into chaos. complete and utter mayhem - at least, on your part.

- you woke up calmly enough, as one usually does, without realising where you were or what you were doing. but, as soon as you registered that you weren’t hugging a pillow, but in fact a person, your reflexes triggered and you abruptly let go, jolting backwards and upright.

- oh my god.

- not just a person.

- hisoka morow.

- you stared at him dozing away, like the little jerk he was.

- what had he done to you? had he put you under some spell? no, that wouldn’t make sense. he was a transmuter, not a manipulator. the bastard probably didn’t even know how to manipulate. then, what was it? was it his dumb bungee gum? your mind was racing 100 miles per hour, so you sat on the left side of the bed, sullen and confused.

- your side of the bed. the left side. the side you had so protectively proclaimed as “your side”. yet there you had been, on his side of the bed, cuddling him? what type of sorcery had he used to make you embrace him so passionately?

- facing the wall, you rationalised yourself. hisoka wouldn’t have done anything, right? but neither would you. right? right?

- “awake, are we?”

- hisoka interrupted your disarray of thoughts. you stood up and turned to look at him. he was propped up on the header of the bed, staring at you composedly. with those amber eyes. what was he on? why was he doing this to you?

- “you...” you began accusing him but couldn’t finish. looking at hisoka, he seemed... well-rested for once. did he even know what had happened? was he waiting for you to admit something?

- “i...? i what, y/n? use your words~” he cooed mischievously.

- oh, the jackass. he definitely knew.

- you glared at him, unable to compile your thoughts into words. you watched as he stood up and walked toward you, until he was standing opposite you, gazing into your eyes. he smiled knowingly at you, causing an surge of emotions to rush up your throat, inciting you to say something, to do something, anything.

- “did you...”

- “no, y/n. it was you.” he simpered.

- oh.

- he raised his hand and pat you on the head, a sly and righteous smirk ceasing to wipe off his lips. he left to the bathroom, leaving you standing there, mouth agape, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. or perhaps, better said, in confusion. when did you start clinging to people like that?

- why... did you feel so at home? when you first woke up, something had been different. some sort of warmth had enveloped you, in your heart. it had felt nice to have someone to lie close to.

- in the meantime, hisoka was also seriously mulling over his emotions for you. so many questions invaded his mind, each popping up quicker than the last had been answered.

- sometimes, he felt as if it would be better to keep everything about you tucked away. underneath his charming, intelligent mask was years of emotion and love and hatred and all things deemed merely human, but too human for him to ever “deserve”.

- as the jester stared at his dazed reflection in the cheap hotel mirror, he came to this conclusion; it wasn’t a matter of what he deserved, or his entitlement. he had to confront the obvious truth that had been bugging him for so long.

- he would tell you he loved you, but not for himself. he would do it for you.

- let’s just say this was the start of something new.

hey so i thought it’d also be good to mention that this is my first time writing a fic on here... to be honest, it’s more the format of a drabble, but i hope you enjoyed! the word count was 2084 words, so i’m super sorry for rambling on too much - i feel like i got a little too deep into hisoka’s character at the end there. illumi’s and chrollo’s version will be coming when i have the time!

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

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mothwingwritings · 3 years

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Halcyon Days Part.1

Yeah this took a looooot longer than I had planned for it too and I apologize. It also ended up BEING a lot longer than I intended it too so it’s actually going to have a second part. WOOPS! :D Here is my Josuke X f!reader yandere fic presented humbly too you. Diamond is Unbreakable is my second fav JJBA arc so I wanted to try my hand at something with one of my fav Joestars. J I always kind of envisioned Josuke as a delusional yandere, someone who can be extremely sweet and doting one moment and then completely unhinged the next. Low key he would be menacing as hell.

This fic is inspired loosely off an actual date I went on once LOL. Unfortunately the person in question I went on said date with was not nearly as charming as Josuke, but they also weren’t hella scary. J

I hope you all enjoy! Sorry if Josuke seems a lil OOC, still getting the hang of this whole yandere writing thing~

Warnings: gas lighting, yandere, toxic relationship, manipulation, violence, strong language, Josuke acting like a rude asshole.

(I kind of rushed through the editing, so I sorry for that as well.)

Part Two is HERE!

This date was going to be the last one.

You sat alone in the stall, leg bouncing anxiously as you waited for his arrival. It was getting late, the sky long since going dark. It was an odd hour for a date, but the sooner you got this off your chest the better. You specifically picked this restaurant on the edge of town because it was 24hr and there was a large chance that you didn’t know anyone there. You knew if you saw even one mutual acquaintance you might not have the courage to break it off with Josuke.

As you lazily stirred the diminishing ice in your drink, you let your mind wander to the man in question. Just two years ago, you were completely new to Morioh. You thought it was cruel, your parents forcing you to up and re-root your last years of high school, leaving all the friends and memories you cultivated through the years of your childhood behind. You were bitter, sad, and increasingly lonely starting off your time at your new school. Adding to the fact that you were already a fairly shy person made loosening up and making new friends a bit of an issue.

Then Josuke started talking to you.

In the beginning it unnerved you. Josuke was confident, cool, extremely attractive, and had a definite bad boy vibe to him that made him stand out in a crowd. You were on high alert the first few times he approached you, worried that maybe he was coming to bully the new girl, or gathering information to feed the school gossip scene. However, your view of him shifted when you began to note that he would daily go out of his way to say hi to you, his continual pleasant demeanor with you going against the stereotype of him you had created in your head. After some time, you began to drop your guard in his presence. Hellos became morning conversations, which became walking to classes together. Soon you were invited to eat lunch with him and his friends (who then by extension, became your friends). He started to walk you home each day, and on your days off he would invite you over to his house to hang out or show you cool places around town. Within a few months you had gained your spark back, fully assimilating into your new town. In this time frame, your feelings for Josuke grew, blossoming into something deeper than friendship. Every time his hand brushed yours, or his face lit up upon seeing you, your heart would hammer in your chest, stomach sent somersaulting. You were delighted to find out the feeling was mutual, and by the time he had asked you to be his steady girlfriend, you were on cloud nine.

For months things were perfect. Josuke was an attentive and kind boyfriend, always taking you out on cute, thoughtful dates to all your favorite places, lavishing you in romance. It wasn’t uncommon that you would come into class each day and there would be a small gift on your desk with a little love note from Josuke, and even if your classes weren’t nearby, he’d always make sure to be waiting outside your homeroom to walk you to your next destination. He always looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world, and would constantly remark on how clever and funny you were. He wasn’t afraid of getting handsy in public, but was always respectful of you and never made you uncomfortable. Sometimes you felt as if you didn’t even deserve him.

But as time wore on, some complaints began to trickle in from your friends. They felt Josuke was taking up too much of your time and were upset that whenever they wanted you to spend time with them, Josuke had seemed to beat them to the punch. He took priority in all your decision making and time management, leaving your friends in the dust. You took this to heart and promised to devote more time to them. You loved your boyfriend, but you loved your friends just as well, and you were sure there would be no problem in spending just a few odd days with them over him, right?

He didn’t take the news as expected. The pain that radiated from his voice when he responded with, “If that’s what you want, do whatever makes you happy,” sat like a heavy weight in your stomach the entire time you were with your friends. You couldn’t focus on the conversations you were having, or the movie you went to see, or the shopping trip you were on with his dejected words bouncing around your brain.

The guilt only got worse when you would finally arrive home. Making a beeline to your phone, you typed in Josuke’s number at a break neck speed.

He sounded far away as he answered and did nothing to mask the disdain in his voice as he asked about your ‘date’. Your enthusiasm over sharing the details of you day rapidly dwindled as every sentence spoken was met with either silence or a curt reply. After several prods and pleads from you to tell him what was wrong, he finally caved with a heavy sigh.

“It isn’t you babe, it’ just that I had something really special planned today. I’m upset those girls took that from us.”

This was just the start of hearing something ‘wasn’t your fault’, only to have the guilt of spending time with someone other than him pressed upon you.

Every free moment you had at school, Josuke was there waiting for you. If you happened to be approached by a friend, he would cut them off, weaseling you away from them. If you tried to reach out to them, he would distract you in any way he could to direct your attentions back his way.

You felt like a fraying rope in the thralls of a fierce tug of war battle.

To make matters worse, in the midst of this, strange things started to occur to the people around you. One by one everybody in your friend group (all those not also friends with Josuke, that is) had unfortunate events befall them.

One friend had her bicycle destroyed. It was the same bike she had spent so long saving up for, the bike she was proud of and loved above all other possessions, and it was utterly decimated at some point in the night.

Another had her room totally ransacked, many of her belongings totally destroyed beyond repair. The police couldn’t figure out why the rest of the house was untouched or what even spurred the break in to begin with since nothing was stolen, just torn apart.

One of your friends had threatening notes written to every member of their family, none of which ended up being traced to any culprit, and another ended up in a suspicious accident leaving them with an overnight stay at the hospital.

Once one person was targeted, it wasn’t long before the next person faced a misfortune. Your friends would worriedly remark on being “shoved” or “tripped” even though no one was around them at the time. You would try and laugh at off at first, making cheesy ghost or curse jokes, but it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

You didn’t want to think the worst, but it had become hard to ignore. The only people being targeted were your friends. The only one of the group that had yet to be affected had become you.

Things finally came to a head one night when a boy you had been partnered with on a school project was going to come over to your house to finish the last leg of the assignment. At this point Josuke had become overbearing, nearly every aspect of your life was being catalogued by him. You knew hiding this rendezvous would be pointless.

You brought it up casually to him, because to you it was no big deal. The boy in question was one of your class reps, Takashi. He was a kind, popular, studious guy who was by all accounts harmless. In fact you were quite happy to receive him as a partner, as he was so easy to talk to and was one of the best performing students academically in your grade. Josuke, however, took it differently. At the mention of you bringing another man home, his whole demeanor changed.

The first true fight you ever had with Josuke began at this moment. You’ll never forget the cold look in his eyes and the firm tone of his voice as he demanded you never speak to or about Takashi again.

Shaken, you took a deep breath. Why was Josuke acting like this? He knew this classmate, was even friendly with him. Did he not trust you? You had never been anything but loyal, so if that was the case, you couldn’t help but begin to feel a bit testy.

You turned away from your boyfriend, afraid if you made direct eye contact you wouldn’t be able to keep your cool. You busied yourself with something nearby and as calmly as you could, you explained that you had to work with him. It was for an important grade, but he had nothing to be concerned about beyond that. It was just a school project, nothing more.

If you had been looking his way you would have seen it. The dangerous gleam in his eyes, the deep set frown engraved on his lips, and the way his fists were squeezed so tight they nearly drew blood.

Your body jolted when his fist slammed the wall beside your head, your eyes widening as his large form caged you in entirely.

“Look at me (name),” his breath was hot on your neck, his voice wavering with a veiled malice. Slowly, you turned towards him. You felt so impossibly small with his arms around you, like a mouse being cornered by a cat.

“There’s my pretty baby,” Josuke’s voice evened and his eyes softened, his expression becoming eerily benign as his free hand traveled to your cheek to cup it gently.

“I know you only have the purest intentions here. It’s not you I don’t trust.”

His frown returned.

“But I know how a man thinks, what a man wants when he goes to a beautiful, innocent girls houses for ‘school projects’,” he grip on your cheek tightened, pinching your soft skin, “As soon as the door closes to your bed room he’ll be on you like a fucking animal.”

You looked at him incredulously, “Josuke, do you hear yourself? He’s my class rep, my parents will be home, and he has a girlfriend-“

In a blink his lips smashed roughly into yours, effectively cutting you off the conversation. Defined arms pulled you tighter, constricting you against his body. You gasped as his tongue forced its way into your mouth, dominating and sloppy. You felt like a doll in his grip, being handled and guided at his will. You were completely overwhelmed, overpowered, and at his mercy.

After he broke the kiss, his eyes bore into yours. A dream like haze obscured their normal brilliance, causing a cold chill to creep up your spine. He spoke in just above a whisper, his words coming out as more a chant than a sentence.

“You are stunning, (name). Brilliant. Too many people want you so they can corrupt that. But I will protect you. I will protect what is mine.”

That night even though you got a phone call as confirmation that your classmate was on his way to your house, he never ended up arriving. Concerned, you called his home several times, and each time it rang until voicemail. At around midnight you decided to give up, calling it night. But his wordless absence was eating at you, and the feeling of dread that gave you you couldn’t shake.

After a fruitless attempt at sleep, you grabbed the phone, keying in the number you had memorized by heart. You pressed the receiver firmly to your ear, hoping it would quell the shaking of your hand.

“Higashikata residence,” Josuke’s voice greeted you. You swallowed thickly. It wasn’t unnatural for Josuke to still be up so late, but were you just imaging the edge you heard to his voice?

“...Hello,” he repeated after a few moments of silence, “Is someone there? Okuyasu, I swear if this is-“

“Josuke,” You finally croaked out, “it’s me.”

“(Name),” he beamed, his smile coming through in his voice, “Hey baby! It’s good to hear your voice, even if mom did shoot daggers at me for taking a call so late. Once she hears it’s from you, I’m sure she will forgive me. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in,” you spoke, praying the uncertainty of where this conversation was going didn’t reflect in your voice, “How has your night been?”

A chuckle reverberated through the phone. Usually it was a noise that brought you joy, but this time it almost felt as if he were laughing at you, “Check in, huh? Shouldn’t I be the one doing that with you, what with what’s-his-face coming over to your house and all,” you could hear the dour shift in his voice, “He didn’t just leave did he? There’s no way he could have dragged school work out until this late.”

You were happy he breached the subject before you, it made the process that much easier.

“He’s not here,” you gripped the phone tighter, “He actually never showed up.”

“Oh, guess I had nothing to worry about then!”

The nonchalance in his voice troubled you, “it’s weird though, isn’t it? He knew tonight was the night we were meeting up, even confirmed it with me by calling me to let me know he was coming. He also is aware this is a big chunk of our grade. He’s not the kind of person that just wouldn’t show up without-“

“As I said before, I don’t think you know what ‘kind of guy’ he actually is, (name),” Josuke cut you off, the sharp cut of his words putting you further on edge, “ I know he’s got that squeaky good guy image going on, but you don’t see the look in his eyes when you turn away from him. You don’t hear the things he tells in graphic detail to his boys when you walk by.”

“Josuke… He wouldn’t do that. He’s never acted that way towards me…” Your voice got smaller.

He sighed incredulously, “(Name) listen, I know you don’t want to think about people in that way, but trust me. The guy is a sleaze ball. It’s a godsend he didn’t make it to your house tonight.”

“Josuke I really don’t-“

You jolted in response to Josuke’s screaming voice “I’m done going over this, (name). The guy is an ass who has no right being in your presence, let alone working with you in your home! You just need to get that through your head. I’m tired of fucking talking about him!”

Up to this point, Josuke had never yelled at you in this manner. The uneasiness that settled over you had now made you a total wreck. Tears stung your eyes and words were caught in your throat. After a moment of silence, you took a deep breath.

“Josuke,” you did your best to hold back to your shaky sobs, but it was too little avail, “Why… Why are you acting like this?”

“Baby,” you heard him coo, his voice switching back to the loving boyfriend you knew him to be, “I’m so sorry, please don’t cry! I know it’s a lot, learning these things about people you thought were friends. Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve had the misfortune for being at the end of a lot of false friendships, huh?”

You hiccupped a bit, unable to form a coherent sentence in response. How could he be so belligerent one moment, and so sweet the next? It gave you whiplash.

“But don’t worry, that’s why I’m here (name),” he continued, “To protect you, and see the things you may not see yourself. You are the most special person to me, (name). You are beautiful and bright in ways I can’t wrap my brain around… It’s only natural people would want to take advantage of you and hurt you.”

“J-Josuke,” you croaked out, concerned with the path the conversation had taken. He no longer seemed as if he were speaking with you, instead it were as if he was affirming something to himself.

“And I won’t let that happen. I will never let that happen.”

A chill ran through your body. Unsure of how to respond, you stayed silent.

“So don’t cry anymore baby, I got you. I’ll make sure nobody’s ever a problem for you again.”

The next day, Takashi didn’t show up to class. As someone who had used no previous sick days, this caused a bit of a stir. By his second day of absence, rumors had started that something bad had happened to him, something serious. Tensions rose as none of his friends could seem to get ahold of him, his girlfriend being engulfed by her posse of friends as they fretted over her in the hallway, her watery eyes sometimes looking your way for answers. By the third day, the rumors were confirmed when his parents reached out to the school, alerting them that their son had been violently attacked on his way to a classmates house. He was alive, but in horrible shape. He was in a coma, his body so bloodied he was barely recognizable. The doctors didn’t know when or if he would wake up. And if he did, they had no idea how cognitive he would be.

From that point on, you were viewed as cursed by the entire school populace. It was no secret that he was en route to your house on the night of the accident, and even when the investigations around the incident cleared your name entirely of any wrong doing, people remained hesitant to approach you. Conversations hushed when you approached. People would get up and move if you sat near. Eyes would look your way, then immediately dart away of you turned their way. There was something about you, something about how everyone was driven away or hurt in your vicinity, it made people uncomfortable.

It made them scared.

Your friends would sometimes shoot you looks, pity mingling with dismay in their eyes. You could tell they wanted to talk to you, wanted to be your lifeline, and God if you didn’t share the same sentiment. You wanted nothing more than to run up to them and fall into their arms, seek comfort in their kindness. What you wouldn’t give to tell them that you were frightened, that you felt trapped.

But if you did that Josuke would know, and what if what happened to your class rep happened to them?

Of course Josuke was cleared of all doubt in the attack as well, the night it happened he was confirmed to be home all night by his mother. The authorities were quick to move on from him. He could be a punk, but he was the grandson of one of their own. He would never do something like this.

And you wanted desperately to believe your boyfriend was incapable of this as well. Sure he was strong, a bit on the rough side, but anyone that really knew him knew him as lovable goofball, a mama’s boy, someone who would do anything for a friend. But you couldn’t’ deny that the way he was acting the day your classmate disappeared, mixed with his nonchalance at hearing what had become of him, was unsettling.

Even with Josuke’s name being officially cleared, you couldn’t stop the cold dread that would grip you whenever you let your mind wander to that night. Josuke knew Takashi was coming over, and having spent his entire life in Morioh, he would know the hidden places attacks could be carried out away from prying eyes. Josuke could have done it, made it seem like a horrible accident or a random attack. It wasn’t’ so long ago that a serial killer was walking the streets of your peaceful town, it would seem like maybe they had returned. It would divert attentions away from anyone at the school. And if he did it once, what would stop him from doing it again?

But if Josuke did have a hand in this and you chose to remain at his side, would you be able to live with yourself?

---

Before you knew it your high school career was drawing to a close. The only people left you could openly talk to were Josuke and his group of friends. Even then, if you tried to reach out to any of them individually, you always managed to get intercepted by Josuke. But you guess it really didn’t matter, on the rare chance you did get to talk to anyone alone you couldn’t seem to get your true emotions across to them, or they would brush you off. Josuke loved you. He protected you. After all the bizarre drama that had happened in the past months, he was the only one still steadfastly by your side! Any thoughts you had otherwise were just residual fears lingering, side effects from everything you had been through.

You felt like you were going crazy.

And so your relationship sat, teetering on the edge of toxicity and paranoia up through your final days of highschool, through the dwindling days of summer, into the present where you sat now.

You had long since decided to break it off with Josuke, but it was much easier said than done. The love you held for him in your heart was still there (albeit much less intensely than it was at the get go) and you felt melancholic thinking about what could have been, what the two of you could have become if things had been different. Josuke was your first for so many things, and you earnestly hoped he could have been your forever.

But his evasive nature in conversations, the iron clad grip he has on your social life, the constant barrage of questions and phone calls while you are away from him even the smallest amount of time, and then the varying degree of verbal scolding’s you would get if you happened to interact with anyone Josuke didn’t approve of…. It wasn’t healthy. The joy you once had towards any relationship you had in your life was now a mere shadow of what they once were.

You wanted your life back.

“Hey pretty girl, mind if I sit here?”

You jumped in surprise at the familiar voice, your head whipping up to see Josuke leaning above you, an enamored grin spread wide across his lips. He was always so genuinely pleased to see you that despite it all, it still made your heart skip a beat. You diverted your eyes, afraid if you looked too long your courage to break it off would disintegrate.

He chuckled, pressing a firm kiss to the crown of your head, “Oops, did I startle you? Sorry baby doll.”

He went to the seat opposite of you, falling into it in an exasperated huff. It was then you noticed his disheveled appearance. The crumpled shirt, his uneven breathing, even his normally immaculate hair had a few strands out of place. He noticed your eyes roam his form and a rosy hue lit up his cheeks, running his hand over his hair in a futile attempt to straighten himself out.

“Oh, uh, I must look like a mess, huh,” he laughed a bit in embarrassment, “Sorry about that, I was running a bit late because I bumped into Koichi and that bastard Rohan and they held me up. Once I saw how late it had gotten I booked it here,” his eye locked with yours, “I’m sorry, it’s scummy of me to not only make you wait but also to come looking like a disaster, especially when you are looking damn gorgeous. But then again, that is your default state.”

He finished with a coy wink, instant heat rising to your cheeks. Even a bit out of sorts Josuke looked nothing short of incredibly handsome lounging across from you. The sleepy smile on his lips, warm glow in his eyes, and unabashed compliments did little to help your resolve.

“It’s no big deal,” you tried to sound cool, grabbing the menu in front of you to shift your focus off of him, “I wasn’t waiting too long, and I know how you can get around Rohan.”

You smiled a bit when you saw him with hold a groan at the mention of the artist, before you continued.

“I also appreciate the compliment, but I’m just rocking average attire myself, so don’t worry about a wrinkled shirt on my behalf.”

He smirked deviously, a twinkle in his eyes, “Don’t be so modest on my behalf (name). You could be in a burlap sack and still draw every eye in the room,” his voice dropped a bit, “Though I’d prefer only my eyes on you, and you dressed in a lot less. Does that pretty red shade you are trying to hide on your cheeks extending to any other part of your body, I wonder…?”

He purred his last words, his foot gently bumping yours under the table. Feeling yourself grow ever redder, you lifted the menu up higher, suddenly becoming engrossed in it. Your heart only started to calm down when he was fully blocked from your site.

“Josuke stop,” you cleared you throat a bit, trying to sound more in control then you felt, “we are in public.”

“What’s it matter,” you heard him say before two fingers gripped the top of your menu, gently yanking it from your grasp so that you were once again face to face with him, “I’m the luckiest guy to have you as my girl, and I don’t care who the hell sees it. In fact, I’d be pissed if someone looked this way and didn’t immediately recognize that you are mine. We don’t want anyone getting any funny ideas now, do we?”

“Josuke…”

Before you could say more, he sighed, a disgruntled look overtaking his features as his eyes scanned the small restaurant.

“Though now that you mention the public, it is a bit crowded here, isn’t it? Couldn’t they have put us in a more private booth? It bugs me that all these people are around.”

Confused, your eyes also passed over the restaurant. Other than yourself and Josuke, there was only three other parties, the largest of which was a family of four, none of them directly near you and none of them even remotely keyed in on your existence.

You laughed in amusement, “Josuke there is practically no one here. I think we will be OK.”

He pouted, his eyes once again turning to the ‘crowd’, a dark gleam in them this time.

“I just don’t see why the waitress couldn’t have sat you somewhere else. You probably told her you were waiting for your boyfriend and everything and she still sat you near all these jerks. There is no privacy at all.”

Your laugh turned to a frown, “I think that’s a little unfair, Josuke. Yeah she sat me here, but it’s late and it looks like she is the only one on shift so she probably wants all her tables near each other. It’s really no problem at all, especially if it makes it easier to help us, you know?”

He opened his mouth to retort when, as if summoned by the conversation, the waitress came bustling over.

“I am so sorry,” the girl (who was around your age, if not a bit younger) began, bowing a bit as she focused her attentions on you and Josuke, a friendly smile on her lips, “I didn’t realize your company had finally shown up quite yet or I would have hustled over faster!”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” you smiled back in return, noticing the irritable expression that befell Josuke’s feature, “He just arrived, he hasn’t even looked at the menu yet.”

“Ah I see,” she nodded, “he slipped by me when I wasn’t looking! Well sir, if you haven’t had time to look things over I can start you off with a drink and give you some time to browse?”

“Don’t need that,” he responded curtly, waving his hand in a dismissive manner at the girl, “Just get me a soda, I guess. The atmosphere of this restaurant doesn’t really put me in the mood for eating.”

You shot him a warning look, gently kicking his leg under the table. He didn’t respond, averting his eyes from both you and the waitress.

“Don’t mind him,” you piped up when you realized Josuke wouldn’t apologize on his own, “he’s just in a grumpy mood from someone he was dealing with before, he didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, um, I see. But regardless I apologize sir,” the waitress replied, looking crestfallen as she scribbled in her notebook, “I will make sure to get your drink out quickly and appreciate your patience. Is there anything else I can get for you, miss?”

Still feeling troubled over how he spoke to her, you smiled in response.

“Actually yes, I was eying a few of the dessert options, but couldn’t decide on one because they all looked good,” You responded sheepishly, “I was wondering if you could recommend your favorite?”

Lightening up considerably, she returned your smile, “Well they are all good, but I highly recommend the carrot cake. It’s my all-time favorite.”

“Carrot cake it is then,” you replied, closing the menus swiftly and handing it back to her.

She took it with a smile before bouncing off to her next task.

“Josuke what the hell was that?!” You grumbled, roughly jabbing him with your foot.

“What,” he responded defensively, “I wasn’t lying, I really didn’t want anything.”

“OK, but did you have to be a jerk about it?”

His eyes glazed for a moment at your comment, a look you had become accustomed to seeing as a warning to end that line of conversation immediately.

“I wasn’t being a jerk, I was just-“

“Here we are,” the cheerful voice of the waitress intervened, “One soda and one carrot cake!”

As she was placing the food in front of you, her eyes fell to your hands and her expression lit up.

“Oh how pretty, I love the color!” She commented, pointing to your freshly painted nails.

“Thank you,” you responded, holding your hand up so you could better appraise your work, “I know it’s not perfect, but I did pretty decently not causing a mess this time.”

She chuckled, “I hear you, I always struggle when it comes time to paint my hand that isn’t dominant. But that shade is incredible, where did you get it?”

Your smile deepened, pleased to be having such a casual conversation with someone that was in no way linked to the man across from you, “I actually just purchased it a few days ago from the drug store down the street. They had plenty in stock, you should get one.”

“I know what I am doing on my next day off, “she beamed, shooting you a wink, “You guys enjoy, and thanks for the info!”

Before the waitress even had time to fully leave the area and the glow from the pleasant interaction was still alight in your eyes, Josuke made sure that his displeasure was shown.

“I thought she was never going to shut the fuck up, damn.” He groaned louder than was necessary, his glare sharp on the waitresses back, “Do they only hire idiots here? They post ads saying ‘dumbasses who don’t know how to keep their mouths shut only’ apply?”

You noticed the waitress falter for a moment, before ducking her head and picking up her pace to leave the area. When she rounded a corner, you swore you saw some tears trickling down her cheek.

Mortified, you wanted to go off on Josuke. Right then and there you were ready to end it, dump what was remaining of your soda in his face and book it out of that restaurant. You wanted to hop in your car, drive away and move on. This cruel man… Whoever Josuke had become, he was no longer the bright eyed sweetheart you fell in love with.

And yet, you found yourself unable to respond, let alone move. You couldn’t explain it, but an intense presence seemed to suddenly fill the booth you occupied, suffocating you in what felt like a strong embrace. Phantom limbs snaked around you, gripping you so fiercely you felt like you might burst.

Your eyes traveled down to your body searching for answers as to what was happening, however there was nothing to see but you yourself. Then why did your chest feel so heavy? What was causing your breathing to be so strained? Why could you not move your arms??? Completely unnerved, you began to panic.

“Josuke?” You questioned, your voice coming out meek under the strain on your body.

As if snapped out of a daze his attention immediately pivoted your way. The strange weight on your body lifted once he did so, freedom once more coming to your limbs. You let out a shaky sigh, stretching out your arms a bit as a test of your mobility. What had just happened?

“What is it, baby,” he asked with concern, leaning over the counter a bit more to inspect you, “You feeling OK?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to leave? You look pale, fresh air should help, being in this stuffy shack of a restaurant probably caused you to feel sick. I think it’s time we ditch this place, don’t you? I know of a place around here that’s a great place to take a load off. I’ve been meaning to show it to you, and it looks like the perfect opportunity has presented itself. ”

Smirk on his lips, he rested his head in his palm as his piercing gaze lingered on you, “Not many people go out that way, and at this time of night it will definitely just be us. Sounds perfect, right babe?”

Eager to get out of the now completely soured environment of the restaurant, you nodded hurriedly, only half listening to what Josuke was saying. “Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s go.”

His smirk grew.

“That’s my girl.”

#jjba #yandere jojos bizarre adventure #jojos bizzare adventure golden wind #yandere jjba #josuke higashikata #yandere josuke #yandere josuke higashikata #yandere x reader #yandere jjba x reader #yandere josuke x reader #yandere jojos bizarre adventure x reader #my boy is RUDE this this damn #thank you for reading!#josuke higashitaka x reader #yandere reader insert

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years

Text

Bully Part 2 (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff, slight angst, Baku-having-feelings-and-being-soft (bc that's totally a genre)

Sequel to Bully (part 1)

Word count: 2,319

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: This ended up being longer and slightly more emotional than I expected. Seems like I’m following the trend of getting the BNHA boys to say what’s really on their minds (I’ve already done this for Todoroki in case you were wondering), so Baku will be ooc and soft here.

This came out later than I intended because...let’s just say I was having a mental breakdown over a really long and really naughty Todo fic here and I ended up calling my little cousin and crying and laugh-crying and shaking and losing my collective mind because none of my friends would know what I was going through. And I was in no headspace to write fluff afterwards, she had to force fluff headcanons into me to go back to normal. Yall should thank her. Enjoy~

None of us had any idea how or why Bakugou suddenly started acting this way. Apparently, he was completely normal until I walked in. All I did was open the door to the classroom, my gaze just so happened to land on Bakugou, and suddenly I heard loud stomps towards me.

I held out a defensive hand, ready to shoot out branches at him if he got too close. "Bakugou-" I threatened. And he did the unthinkable. He gripped me in a choke hold around my shoulders and neck.

Actually, no. He...hugged me?

My clenched fists and the hush that fell over the rest of the students told me this is the first time all day he's done something out of character, something I definitely wasn't expecting. We hadn't talked since I almost jumped out of a window last week. This entire week, he was ignoring me. I was preparing for the day he would finally confront me, and I pictured it would be an aggressive encounter.

This is far from anything I'd imagined.

I never ever thought this porcupine-head could even show affection, that he even has a single gene of softness in him. Yet he was embracing me tightly, nuzzling his face in my neck. The shock of it all made me freeze up and cast a sideways glance at Midoriya, who was just as freaked and confused.

"Get off, Bakugou, what are you-"

The boy lifted his head up, his scarlet eyes softened into fondness and a gentle smile on his lips made the rest of my words catch in my throat. This entire expression was foreign to all of us. His face can look like that?

"I missed you over the weekend."

My jaw dropped. HIS VOICE CAN SOUND LIKE THAT?? The smooth and sweet honey tone was way out of character for him.

But like hell I trusted any of this.

I wiggled my arms up to push his weight off me. "I don't know how you managed to become such a great actor," I succeeded in separating from his vice grip, "But if you think disorienting me like this can be some sort of revenge, you're sorely mistaken."

Bakugou tilted his head, resembling a sad puppy. "What do you mean?"

I straightened my uniform. "Nice try, I know you're just acting so you can, like, throw me off the building or something."

That seemed to hurt him, his jaw gaping open before holding my face in his calloused hands. "I'd never do that to you."

I quickly swatted his hands away, wary that he was about to blow my face off. "Don't. Touch. Me."

The boy froze in place, then rubbed the back of his neck. Regret seeped through his eyes as he stared at the ground. "I'm sorry, about everything."

A strange warmth rushed through me. Something about how genuinely vulnerable he looked shook my entire being.

"I just...really wanted you to give me a chance all this time, but I went about it the wrong way." He encased me into another bone-crushing hug. "But I want to make up for it."

I felt a thud in my chest, probably from fear that he might hurt me.

At that moment, the teacher walked in. "Alright everyone, take your seats." He noticed Bakugou's position, gawked for a second, and cleared his throat. "Uh, Bakugou, let go of (L/n) and take your seat."

"I dare any of you extras to yank me off, I'll blast you into next week!"

He's back, kind of?

Nobody made a move to do anything, they were all frozen by the sight of Bakugou clamped onto me like a koala.

"I'll survive...somehow," I assured them, unsure myself how exactly I would do that.

For the entire rest of class, the boy clung onto me. He had taken over the seat of the person who normally sat on my left and scooted the chair over so he can stay attached to me. Though I reasoned for him to hold onto just my arm (since he wouldn't let go no matter how many times I asked), he hugged my waist with both of his arms, face buried in my neck. I was just glad he left one arm for me to write notes with.

If this was just an act, he did a splendid job of keeping it up. I thought he would've given up after an hour or two, but he stayed like that even after lunch until the end of the day. Anytime anyone would even walk past us, he would glare at them until they scurried off.

It was super weird at first, but I got used to the arrangement somehow. I hate to admit it, but I even felt comfort by his warmth. His breath tickled my neck as his solid arms held me in a vice grip. I found myself hoping this wasn't acting, and thanking whatever miracle made this happen. This was never going to happen again, I might as well enjoy it for now.

"Back off, you damn Deku!" He bares his teeth at the cowering Midoriya, still attached to me at the hip.

I sigh, finally fed up with this whole ordeal. "Midoriya, I'll handle this, I'll call later."

The poor broccoli boy nods and scampers away from us. Bakugou insists on not letting go until I'm home safe, even when I repeated that I live in the opposite direction as him. He won't even let Midoriya near me.

I lead us both over to a bench outside of school. I'm still not convinced that this isn't an act, but I might as well try to talk to him after the incident last week. "Get off," I order, scooting over to one side of the bench. When he doesn't obey, I add, "I wanna talk, so I need to see your face."

After a brief moment of hesitation, he eases off my body, rolling up to sit facing me with a leg propped up on the seat. A dumb smile is on his face.

God, that still freaks me out. I stare at him calculatingly. He hasn't said a word to me the whole day, only barking at other students as he holds onto me. I want answers. "You're sure this isn't some stupid revenge plot to get back at me?"

He shakes his head, propping his arm up on the seat and resting his head there. His wordless, lovestruck stare probing me.

I sputter, "Why are you acting this way then?"

"I like you."

I almost choke at his quick response, my chest throbbing again. "S-Stop looking at me that way, I can't take you seriously! I admit, it's freaking me out!"

"My feelings freak you out?" he says sweetly, brushing the side of my face softly.

I slap his hand away, "You don't have feelings for me, just drop the act already!"

His smile disappears. "It's not an act, I'm being serious." Hurt laces his voice.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Yeah, well, it's very hard to take you seriously when you've been a heartless, pompous, mean jerk for all of middle school."

Bakugou's eyes downcast and his arm falls into his lap. "I...I don't know how else to show how I feel." Raw emotion drips from his eyes as he bites his lip, almost like he's gathering his thoughts. "I act like a jerk because... I just feel so pressured. Everyone expects so much of me just because my quirk is so strong." A dark chuckle emits from him, "Even my mom has ingrained it in me that I need to be strong so I don't burden anyone with being weak. So I've been projecting my frustrations onto everyone else. Deku is just the easiest person to pick on because he's the weakest person, he has no quirk! And I'm just self-centered because I have to tell myself that I'm strong or else...I might slip. Call it an inferiority complex, I guess."

I won't lie, I didn't go into this expecting a therapy session. Part of me does sympathize with him, but the rational side of me is still skeptical of this entire monologue being an act. I wouldn't put it past him for thinking up such an elaborate plan in a week. And none of it excuses him for telling Midoriya to kill himself. "Not that I don't believe you, but so what?" I blurt out.

He grabs my hand in both of his, eyes fully emotional and staring into mine. "I like you, (Y/n). I see how kind you are to everyone else, how you've stayed by Deku and supported him this entire time. I admire you. You're the kind of person who I know would become a great hero because you always know just what to say to people to make them feel better, not to mention you're so badass too. And...in a way, there's something in me that wants you to care about an idiot like me, too."

Tightness tugs in my chest. Damn it, he needs to stop being so emotional, I can't handle it. "I want to help you, Katsuki, but what you said to Midoriya crossed a line. I can't overlook that."

His head drops onto our joined hands and his body starts shaking. "Damnit!" he grits out, "I can't believe I've done so much wrong that the person I like can't even forgive me."

I shut my eyes, not wanting to see him cry. "Katsuki-"

Bakugou's head snaps up and takes my head between his hands. "Do you even have the smallest feeling for me?" His red orbs swim in tears.

A soft spot in my heart persuades me to gently rub the wet trails off his cheeks. "I'm...not sure." I won't lead him on, I really don't know how I feel anymore. It's that I hate him, I don't like the things he says or does.

"Help me, (Y/n)," he practically begs, "I'll become a better person, I promise, but I need you to guide me, please."

This sudden magnitude of emotion other than anger disorients me. Is this something he's kept locked away somewhere in the recesses of his mind? I absently nod in agreement against some of my better judgement.

His shaking form steadies as he stares me down quietly. "Can I...kiss you?" he whispers out of the blue.

My lips slightly part and my eyes widen as he leans into me, softly pressing his mouth against mine. Our kiss is innocent, as if time just stood still and washed a warm glow on us. My stomach flips weightlessly, and I gently grip one of his wrists to ground me. He pulls away just for a moment, letting us linger in the moment and sensation of one another.

His eyes flutter open, facing me with the same loveliness he's showed me all day, before confusion suddenly dawns on him, and then his cheeks color red and he pulls away, almost retreating to the other edge of the bench.

I blink, not sure what just happened, but the tumbling in my abdomen still present. "Uh...Bakugou...?"

The boy doesn't even want to face me. "Did I really just do that?" he mutters to himself, the raspy growl that's more characteristic of him returning.

My heart sinks. "Do you-?"

"Hey, don't look so upset," he glares at me before flushing again. "I...somehow...know everything I did... It was me...but it wasn't...really me."

"But everything you said-"

He growls and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away from me. "Everything I said was true! I just... I'm surprised I did it, and I was such a pansy about it."

I roll my eyes. He's back, for real this time. "Well, if that's the case, I won't hold you accountable-"

"Wait," Bakugou sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I stand by everything I said, even the whole...thing...about you helping me." It almost hurts him to say it.

I fold my arms over my chest and stand up. "You don't have to force yourself to be good if you don't want to. Things can go back to the way they were."

"I don't want it to!" he yells. "I'll work at being less of an idiot if it means...that you'll...go out with me."

I examine him, all red-faced and uncomfortable, unable to look me in the eyes. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

He stands up and finally garners the courage to look at me again. "I'm willing. I'll try hard, I promise."

After thinking it over a moment, I relax my figure and place a kiss on his cheek. "That's your reward for consciously admitting that you have a problem."

Bakugou's eyes bulge out of his head and I have to suppress my chuckles. "Will there be more rewards?" he mumbles.

"Only if you really try." I lean forward, catching him off guard and finally letting out a small fit of laughter. "You know for most of the day, you were hanging onto me like I was you handbag, now you're shying away from me."

He scratches his burning neck. "Hey, that wasn't me."

"It was a you that probably showed your deepest darkest wants," I tease, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Sh-Shut up, don't be so smug about it!" He lightly shoves me away, digging his hands into his uniform pants pocket. "You're the one asking for it because you liked it, stupid."

"Ah-ah," I hold up a finger like a teacher reprimanding a kindergardener. "First thing is for you to stop calling people names."

He groans. "Fine. (Y-Y/n)." His cheeks color all over again.

I slip my hand in his and his blush intensifies. "Was that so hard to do?"

"Shut up," he mumbles softer this time.

He's a fixer-upper, he's still got a lot to learn, but hopefully, he'll get there eventually.

#Bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #angst #crack #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #gender neutral reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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scorpioxsith · 4 years

Text

Don’t you agree?

I was totally on my bullshit after watching Chapter 13 last night, I smoked a joint and, god damn I was feeling inspired, I wrote something, whatever my imagination was doing at 1AM.

It’s just a little something. I tidied up the grammar to coherency but i kinda like it being organic as it was, to reflect reader being not-sober (just like me baha). 🤪

Also influencing this, I’m in the UK and we’ve been in lockdown for the past month and it ain't about to end for me anytime soon, so i am pining for a night out (idk just some fun god damn) and some mando attention.

I felt like sharing it because it’s kinda fun and lighthearted and if it helps someone else escape right now then cool. This is some #realthirstyhotgirlshit, reader is flirty and a lil confident but also a lil shy because heck I can be confident (lies) but put me in front of Mando and you bet I would be total jello. (also i dont think mando is necessarily OOC in this BUT if he is idc i just want him to be my daddy lmfao)

Im living for season 2, someone give Filoni an award NOW!!

warnings: references to alcohol/drug use. its not smut but its flirty. if i carry it on it'll go “further” but I’m scared of commitment so

Drabble below the cut.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hanged off of Greef Karga in a friendly embrace and giggled in the spice lounge. You were howling about a story he had just told you and the two of you were almost crying with laughter. You’d just come back from a very successful mission, and when he'd asked if you wanted to celebrate the win with him, you shrugged your shoulders at him with a playful smirk “alright then.”

two hours later and you were both inebriated. it was bleeding into the mid evening, the night at its peak. energy buzzed in the spice lounge with the music and fluttering ebb and flow of conversations, carrying an infectious energy into the air.

your body felt relaxed, your mind loose.

it was a little foolish, given you are in so doing letting your guard down, but you hoped if you were unlucky enough to be accosted in this state, with Greef by your side you felt a safe bet you could still take most people.

Although you didn’t particularly have much in common with him, he had a playful demeanour that made for a fun drinking partner.

Karga tapered his hysterics off into a deep chuckle, “ah, you know-”

“Karga.”

A blur of silver came into yours and Greef’s vision until it materialised before your eyes into a Mandalorian. A hot Mandalorian. You had no idea you had a thing for that but it was the first thought that sprung to your mind. You quickly looked to Greef, playing off your fluttering lashes and hoping the Mandalorian hadn’t noticed your astonishment. Or…maybe if he had, maybe it wouldn’t be totally the end of the world. Who knows.

Greef Karga also took a moment to summon a response, frozen for the barest of moments, but you saw it. He was taken aback by the Mandalorian's presence. Then, he flew into a huge bravada of an introduction.

Maker, you were both so high.

“Mando!” Greef bellows, “well I never. I never thought I’d see you in this particular establishment!”

The Mandalorian cocked his head impatiently. “I’m only here because I was told this is where I’d find you.”

His voice went straight through you. Fuck.

Greef turned to you. “Allow me to introduce my associate…”

you smiled awkwardly at this, oh god - why were you feeling shy? I mean…well actually...you do know why, don’t you?

“Good to meet you,” you said carefully - you didn’t want to spook him, so no heavy flirting yet but your tone was warm and a little sultry.

The Mandalorian’s helmet turned to you and you weren’t sure if you imagined it but you were sure you felt some sort of tension almost immediately bloom as he continued to hold your gaze. Your skin prickled in a path down your body as if his very gaze was passing over your curves and leaving a blazing fire in its wake.

Your voice lazy, a little sexy, as were your sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. “I'm Y/n.”

“Mando,” he responds huskily. You think that will be it, but then- “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

His voice is run through a modulator in his helmet, making it hard to pin down his tone. You couldn’t tell what his angle was but something inside of you hoped he was feeling the same magnetism as you right now.

You realised he was waiting for an answer, and you hope you mask the subtle cheeky glint in your eye before you respond.

“I am new to this parsec, yes. I have been in the Guild for a couple months now but I’m often out on mission.”

“Is that right?” There’s a smoothness to his voice that makes you blush slightly, you hope its not obvious. To Greef, that is. It'll definitely be obvious to Mando’s heat vision, but you could live with that embarrassment. He continued, “I assume as you are here, your previous mission was successful.”

You nodded up at him, thinking wow he’s so tall and big and yes and he’s looking down at you too, until a hand clapped on your back and Greef came into the picture again.

“Indeed!” Greef commended as if it was the best thing in the world. “An impressive one hundred per cent success rate! She’s almost as talented as you, Mando, I like this one!”

Karga gives you a joking side wink and you can’t help but laugh - he forces it out of you when your eyes meet as if something is so hilarious but you’re not even sure what it is, mainly just the fact that he’s chatting absolute shit and you can’t take it seriously. Mando gazes at you as he waits for you both to finish your ridiculous and illogical giggling fit.

It takes longer than a minute for you both to get control of yourselves, your laughter filling the air of the spice lounge. Mando's hands went to his hips and he cocked into a stance that had you wanting to drop to your knees. That stopped your giggling.

Karga wipes another tear from his eye, you’re not sure if he’s doing it for dramatic effect and it almost sends you off the edge again.

“Forgive me, I’m feeling loose. Speaking of, I’m going to go get myself another Gin ’n’ Juice,” Karga announced playfully. “Mando? Drink, Y/n?” he asks you.

“Just a water, please,” you said sweetly. You needed it.

“Karga, I came here to talk,” Mando quipped impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Karga rolled his eyes, “and if I’m gonna listen to you, I need a drink. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll be right back.”

With that he whirled away, leaving you with the Mandalorian.

You weren’t sure whether to start conversation or wait for him to ask you something, but then there was the predicament of what to say. The armour was sexy as hell, but it did make him difficult to read.

The Mandalorian was watching Greef retreat to the bar, before seeming to roll his shoulders and relax slightly, consciously, then looked down at you.

Then, he adjusted his weapon away from his body so he could take one large stride over to the now unoccupied space by you. He sat close, but still too far away. However, he relaxed into the seat a little more, the bulk of him spreading out further and inching closer to you. It was like some kind of erotic display and you couldn’t help but gaze at him in a way that betrayed your desires.

His helmet tilted at you and he chuckled knowingly. “Careful, kitten.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and a sudden warmness whooshed through your whole body. It was dizzying and immediately a hot aching began to pulse in your core. His voice danced through your tingling senses and you were enraptured.

You wanted to touch him, desperately, even just get a little closer. Encouraged by his boldness, you summoned the courage to teasingly reach out and slowly trace your fingers over his thigh. You hear a staticky breath come out of the modulator.

One of his large hands snapped down to rest over yours, except he didn't snatch your hand away. He held it in place, his hand heavy and hot over yours, pressing down on his firm thigh. Your breath hitched as movement in your peripheral barely caught his other hand coming up, too late and you were taken by a shudder when you felt his gloved fingers trail gently down the sensitive curve of your exposed neck. Your head tilted in compliance, lashes fluttering, barely in control of the longing gaze of desire you were levelling back into the visor of the helmet.

"You should be careful, cyar'ika," he murmured, "Some would take advantage of this right now."

You barely held back a whine, but you knew he was right. Shit, his righteousness only made you want him more.

He pulled back swiftly, though it was a gentle touch when his hand gripped and lifted yours off his thigh, placing it back onto your own lap. His fingers ghosted over your forearm as they retreated.

Moments later, Karga returned with more drinks you knew one single man could carry, and you gaped at him.

"Karga, I said water!" you pouted.

"I got that, too," he replied, pushing a glass filled with clear liquid towards you, condensation beading down the side.

You drank half of it immediately. You eyed the pink drink he'd also brought you back, unsure if it was wise. You weren't really one for drinking and smoking at the same time, it was risky business that.

Greef lowered himself into the seat across from Mando. "Get on with it then, before I change my mind," he said to Mando, urging him to get the business talk over with, because he knew for sure that must be the reason for this highly unexpected appearance.

You didn't miss the way the Mandalorian looked at Karga in a silent challenge, daring him to cheek him again. Karga laughed it off, bumping one of Mando's pauldrons and slid one of the drinks across the table to the Mandalorian.

Mando's shoulders rose and fell in a sigh of defeat, like he just couldn't be bothered with the hassle.

"I think the puck you gave me was intended for someone else." With that, Mando slammed the puck onto the table, startling you slightly and some of the fuller drinks jumped out of their glasses onto the table.

The puck's holo beamed up a second later, a picture of a wealthy, androgynous looking human male.

He continued, "You know I can't be going anywhere near the Inner Rim."

Karga peered at the puck. "Ah yes..." he glanced at Mando, then you, before chaotically spinning the puck across the table towards you.

"Dank ferrick!!" you cursed, barely catching the puck under your palm as you slammed your hand down to the table quickly.

Karga burst out laughing, "coincidentally it was meant for her ladyship here. Very chivalrous to bring it to its rightful owner, Mando."

The Mandalorian's head spun to pin you with an unreadable gaze. After a tense moment, he said, "Who said I was returning it?"

You blinked at him, palm suddenly burning where the puck was sitting innocently beneath it.

Karga chuckled again. "Apologies for the assumption, old friend. How can I resolve the matter?"

Mando's gaze returned to Karga, briefly releasing you. "You promised me payment for this. The only solution I can see is a partnership for this bounty."

The Mandalorian turned back to you. "Don't you agree?"

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian drabble #the mandalorian fanfic #this is a total hot mess hahaha #but i had fun #my writing #my drabbles #my fics #man i dont understand the spacing on tumblr at all im sorry

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years

Text

love me naked

pairing: fox / reader

word count: 1749

summary: you and fox both overwork yourselves and in order to get him to slow down, you have to do the same.

a/n: i love fox dearly and had intended on saving this for a while but i got impatient. i’ve never written for fox until now so he may be a bit ooc, fingers crossed that he isn’t. hearth is an oc and i love him so much, if you have questions abt him or any of my other oc darlings i’d love to answer them. (listen to this song)

“he hasn’t come out in ages,” thorn’s voice is rightfully worried as he approaches you. you’re treating a shiny that came back from his first rough shift. the poor thing was shaking, nervous and still reeling from the fact he was attacked by the civilians he was so eager to help. hearth, he said his name was, and you recognized the name from hearing chatter around the medbay. medics were flies on walls, and hearth was quickly becoming known for his empathy and what some claimed were the best hugs in the guard.

you knew that thorn was talking about fox. your boyfriend had a reputation that heavily revolved around the way he would throw himself into his work and burden himself with more than anyone ever should, but to point fingers would be quite hypocritical on your part.

being the chief medical officer of the coruscant guard’s medical bay, you’ve pulled all-nighters that could put some front lines medics to shame. you hadn’t slept in nearly three days, spending all of your time elbow-deep in blood and bacta. there wasn’t even a reason for you to be up; your staff had recently been replenished (there had been several civvie medics quit after a particularly bad riot) last week so there was no dire need for you to stay in the medbay.

it could be seen as hypocritical of you to chastise fox for his behavior with your current state as well as priors, but someone had to take care of the self-sacrificing commander.

“i’ll be with you in a minute, just let me take care of hearth here first.” thorn nodded and stood nearby while you finished up with the last of the bacta patches the former shiny needed. it would’ve normally taken a minute or two tops, but you wanted to go slower; you could tell that hearth needed the extra attention.

after a few minutes, hearth is completely patched up. he’s leaving the medbay with a sucker in his mouth and a calmer demeanor than when he came in. your area is sanitized and the bloody gauze and gloves are unceremoniously thrown into the biohazard basket, and you’re off.

it’s time to rescue your fox from his own mind.

--------

three knocks snap fox from the hypnotic daze the datapad had over him. he hadn’t moved his eyes from the screen in what was probably hours, his eyes no longer registering the burn the blue screen caused. he called out a gruff come in and was surprised to feel how dry his throat was. when was the last time i actually talked?

you were in your greys, thorn standing slightly behind you. your eyes were a little hollow, probably from pulling the third triple shift this week. why didn’t you try to rest? you had the authority to maneuver the schedules of your medics however you wanted to, there was no reason you had to put so much on your shoulders.

but what upset him the most was the way your eyebrows shifted when you took in his surroundings. datapads were anywhere from six inches to two feet high stacked like a fortress around and on his desk, crumpled balls of flimsi scattered throughout. one stack of datapads had several dirty plates stacked from what little food he’d actually eaten in the past couple days.

your voice is soft, worried, when you speak. “fox, can i come in?”

fox hated the way you were using your gentle medic voice on him because it meant that his state was more pitiful than he cared to realize. “yeah, baar'ur’ika.”

thorn nods, seeming to be satisfied now that you were here to get his commander the rest he needed, and leaves. you slowly make your way into the room and fox goes to meet you in the middle so you don’t have to navigate his datapad fortress, but he must have been sitting far longer than he thought he had been. his legs start to give out under him and he leans onto the corner of his desk for support. his weight jostles the desk a smidge too much and one of the datapad stacks is seconds from falling on top of him before you’re pulling him towards you.

you both end up on the floor after you tripped during your daring rescue but it was fine.

the datapads crash into the space fox was occupying seconds before and for a moment, the office is completely silent. then fox laughs, and he laughs and laughs and laughs. it sounds like the heavens are singing, his weary smile shining brighter than the stars could even hope to. you grinned, soon joining him in gleeful fits. neither of you remembered the last time you both found something funny enough to show it this much and it was peaceful.

fox sat up, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on your shoulder as his jovial demeanor mellowed out into a peaceful, easy feeling. you and him sat in comfortable silence for a while, letting you both heal from the long hours at the other’s side. moments like this are rare and you don’t think anyone or anything could drag you out of fox’s embrace.

that is, except for fox himself.

he pecked your temple lightly before shifting you out of his lap. there was no hint as to what he was deciding to do, no way for you to gauge his next move. when he picks up a datapad from the toppled stack you’re immediately standing. he was not about to start working again so soon, you wouldn’t put up with it.

right as you’re about to scold him for leaving your spot on the floor, music reverberates through his office.

it wasn’t a song you recognized but it was soft and slow, the kind of music you’d sway to on a date or in your bedroom after nights spent in his arms. it was relaxing and you could see the way fox’s shoulders released some of his backup supply of tension that it had the same effect on him.

fox knew he was working himself into the ground, and he knew that you had a tendency to do so as well. if taking care of himself would get you to do the same for you, he just had to take the bullet. for you, of course, not because he thought he needed (or deserved) a break. when there was an opportunity to rescue you from responsibilities for a little while, he had to take it. here you were, eyebags darker than he’d seen them in a while and a soft gleam in your eyes that reminded him of the first time you treated him in the medbay, and he felt at peace for the first time in a while.

he extended a hand out to you as he set the singing datapad precariously on one of the pillars of its brethren. “would you like this dance?”

the last time fox had danced was at a stuffy senatorial party, before either of you made your affection for the other known. that night he didn’t pull you as close as he wished he had, but today he held no such reservations about maintaining proper space between the two of you. he was so graceful when dancing, his body having an elegance about it in those moments that was utterly hypnotic. you didn’t realize how much you missed the way his body felt against you until he was beginning to guide you to the song.

but what if i told you

there's nothing i want more in this world

than somebody who loves me naked

someone who never asks for love

but knows how to take it

the words resonated with you, the softness of the instruments driving the sensitivity home. it made you pull fox as close to you as possible, his chest flush with yours. with the proximity, fox seemed to debate with himself for a moment before abandoning the structure of your slow dance in favor of both of his arms wrapping around your waist. yours went to his neck while one hand gently played with the hair at the nape of his neck, relishing in the serenity around you.

no matter how hard i try

to run away from love at the end of the night

i need somebody who loves me naked

you gasp when there’s an unexpected twirl, your feet somehow able to carry you away and back into fox’s arms with ease. fox shoots you a sly grin when his hands take new positions against your skin and you bury your face into his neck. he’s warm against you and you can feel the calluses of his hands even through your scrubs.

i need someone who loves me when i wake up

who thinks i'm beautiful when i'm looking fucked up

i want the perfect love, am i asking too much?

someone who shoots for the stars

knowing i think i’m never good enough

you allow fox to lead in the swaying (because let’s face it, it stopped being actual dancing after the surprise spin) and let the words and the solid body of your commander bring you to peace.

are you that somebody

who sees a wall and breaks it

are you ready to fight just to see what's lost behind my flaws

can you love me naked

--------

thorn returned to fox’s office a few hours later with two trays in hand stacked high with food from the mess. he’d asked around base if anyone had seen either of you since you left the medbay, but no one had. this brought the commander to the conclusion that you never left fox’s office. it also meant that neither of you had dinner, which was an error that would soon be rectified.

with a sense of balance thorn didn’t know he possessed, he was able to successfully rest one plate on a raised knee while entering the entry code for fox’s office. upon entry, he found you both curled up against the front of fox’s desk, clinging on to each other as if your lives depended on it.

“it was about time they took a damn break,” thorn mumbled to himself. he set the food down on fox’s desk and searched his vod’s office for a moment before finding a blanket to drape over you both. maybe this way you two would actually get some well-earned sleep.

#star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #star wars #commander fox #commander fox imagines #love me naked #commander fox x reader #clone trooper x reader #commander fox deserves more love

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kaylaxwrites · 4 years

Text

A Day in the Life

masterlist // ao3

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Words: 2700 Request/Summary: A glimpse into your domestic life with Frank and your daughter Annie. (aka the one where we just want Frank to be happy and peaceful.) Requested by anonymous: "can you please write some frank castle fluff ? pleasepleaseplease" Warnings: mild language, pregnant reader A/N: did this end up being a rambling mess? I had no idea. but while I was writing, I got so many ideas for a domestic day with Frank that I had to stop myself from including them all. (if you to see them all, let me know lol) also I’ve never written Frank before, so please let me know if anything’s off or OOC about him. I’d love to hear your feedback!

(ps send me your requests pls)

You woke up to the smell of coffee. Though your back was turned, you could feel Frank sitting on his side of the bed, probably reading a worn paperback as he sipped his black coffee. (“None of that fancy creamer shit,” he once told you. “When I want coffee, I just want coffee.”) You smiled to yourself as you burrowed deeper into your covers—the bed felt warm and safe with Frank by your side.

Your bladder wouldn’t let you enjoy the feeling for very much longer.

Sighing, you stretched deeply before sitting up and blearing sleepily at Frank. “Morning, baby,” you said quietly, running your hand over Frank’s bare shoulder.

“Shit, did I wake you up?” His voice was still rough around the edges with sleep.

“Nah, more like this baby pushing at my ribs.”

Neither you nor Frank intended on having more children, not after his past and your complicated pregnancy with an ex five years ago. But after seeing the way he took to your daughter, Annie, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret this happy little accident. You hoped Frank felt the same way, if the smile in his eyes every time he looked at your daughter and growing belly was anything to go by.

Frank set his coffee mug and book on the bedside table in order to place a warm hand over your stomach. “Baby girl givin’ her momma trouble?”

Another kick to the bladder had you pulling away from Frank’s touch and out of bed. “He is a pain in my ass,” you said, pressing a kiss into Frank’s hair. “Just like his father.”

You and Frank had a running bet on the sex of your baby. (Annie was betting dinosaur.) Knowing wasn’t a big deal to you and you didn’t want to be like one of those gender-obsessed moms on Pinterest, but it was fun picking light-hearted arguments with Frank. It made you happy to see him joking, to see the tension ease from his shoulders even slightly. You knew the idea of having another child weighed heavily on his chest, so you knew how big of a step it was for him to make light of the situation, for him to even allow himself to become close with the daughter you already had.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, Annie was awake and curled next to Frank who was reading aloud from his book. Annie’s huge pit bull of a dog named Hulk (named after her favorite Avenger as well as an apt descriptor) had followed and laid his head protectively across her lap. (For the record, Hulk was not your dog. Hulk was not Frank’s dog. Hulk was one hundred percent, without-a-doubt Annie’s dog. She found him scared, cold, and alone in an alley one day last winter and they took to each other like ducks on water. Hulk followed you and Annie home that day and refused to leave her side ever since.)

“Morning, Mommy,” Annie said sleepily, still tucked against Frank’s side.

“Good morning, Annie,” you replied, running a hand over her hair to smooth her bedhead. “You hungry?” Annie perked up excitedly at that and nodded her head frantically. “Why don’t you and Frank take Hulk for a walk and I’ll get breakfast started?”

Annie nodded again and Frank swooped her up in his arms, setting her gently on the ground. “Help me tie my shoes?” she asked Frank, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“Sure, kid, I’ll help you,” Frank replied. He smiled as she ran out of the room as fast as her little legs could carry her. Hulk trotted behind her. Frank followed slowly behind them both, but stopped to spend a second with you. He slid his hands down to your hips and pulled you close. You rested your hands on his biceps, leaning back a little to look into his eyes.

“You good with her?” you asked, unsure if he was okay watching her by himself or if he wanted you to go as well.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Frank leaned down to kiss you, but stopped short when Annie called out from the other room. “Frank! I got my shoes on! I need help!” You let out a breath that was half exasperation, half laughter, leaning your forehead against Frank’s.

“Duty calls?” You chuckled.

“Duty calls,” Frank agrees, kissing you once more before stepping out into the main room, where you could see Annie kicking her feet against the couch. You smiled as you watched Frank kneel down and help her with her shoes. “What’s the first step? Tie a knot, right.” He tied the first shoe for her before having her show him how to tie the other one. “Attagirl,” he said proudly once she had finished. “Now go get Hulk’s leash, yeah?” Annie darted off again on her new task as Frank moved to lace his own boots.

You stepped to stand next to Frank, arms crossed, as you watched Annie try to figure out the latch to the leash. “You know she learned how to tie her shoes a week ago?” you said quietly so Annie wouldn’t hear across the room.

“That right?” he asked, peering up at you as he made his last knot on his boot before standing up.

“Mhm. I think she just likes asking you for help.”

Frank huffed, the corner of his mouth hitching towards a smile. And—was that your imagination or did he have a tinge of red across his cheeks? Before you could dwell on it further, Annie was in front of you again, this time hiding the leash behind her back.

“Hulk says he doesn’t want to wear the leash,” she said, rocking up and back on her toes.

Frank crouched once more to get on her level. “He did, now did he?” Annie nodded. “Well tell Hulk if he wears his leash today, we’ll go to the dog park tomorrow.” Annie’s face lit up and she ran off to tell Hulk the news. How this girl was so active this early in the morning, you’d never know. It was barely seven on a Saturday morning and she was already bouncing off the walls.

You headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast as you listened to Annie and Frank banter back and forth. A few moments later, you caught a glimpse of them out the window. Annie skipped along the sidewalk with Hulk dutifully trotting next to her. Frank followed behind, carefully keeping an eye on the little girl.

By the time they returned, breakfast was nearly ready. Frank’s plate with eggs, sausage, and toast was set in front of his seat at the table. You placed the finishing touches on Annie’s smiley face pancakes before fixing your own plate and joining the two of them at your little kitchen table. “How was the walk?” you asked, pouring Annie a glass of juice.

“Good!” She smiled, syrup already covering her chin. She continued to talk around mouthfuls of food. “We stopped at Mrs. Hall’s bodega and I got to pet her cat. Then she gave me a piece of candy.”

“Candy before breakfast?”

“No,” she pouted. “Frank said I had to wait. He put it in his pocket and said I could only have it if I ate all of my strawberries.”

“Well, you better eat up, then,” you said, pointing at her untouched strawberries.

Annie continued rambling on about the walk, mentioning how many pigeons she saw and who she said hi to on the street. By the time she had run out of things to say, the three of you had finished eating. You cleaned up her face and hands before sending her to the living room for some Saturday morning cartoons. The distraction would last long enough for you and Frank to do the dishes and, if you were lucky, allow you time to take a shower in peace.

Frank had already started washing dishes when you joined him and you took the dish towel off of his shoulder so you could dry them. You completed the chore with relative ease and in peaceful silence. Occasionally, you’d bump Frank with your hip, causing him to smile at you.

“Got any plans for today?” you asked, drying off the last dish and placing it in the cupboard.

“Not yet, I don’t,” Frank said, turning to lean against the counter. “Why?”

“I was thinking of taking Annie to the park today and maybe running to the store afterwards. I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna come with us?”

“Yeah.”

“Great!” You reached up to place a kiss against Frank’s bearded jaw. “Can you watch Annie for a minute while I take a shower?”

Frank ran a hand through your hair and returned your kiss. “Yeah, go.”

“You’re wonderful!” you called as you hurried into the bathroom.

The warm water against your skin felt nice and you were tempted to take longer than you needed to in the shower to enjoy it. But you figured you’d need to be quick before it got too late in the day. As you were rinsing out the conditioner in your hair, you felt movement against your stomach. Looking down, you saw nothing and shrugged it off. But you felt it again a few moments later. And you realized.

You threw the shower curtain open. “Frank!” you called. “Frank! Come here!”

Frank barreled into the room a few seconds later, nearly throwing the door off of its hinges. His eyes were wide as he searched the room, looking for a sign of danger or anything out of place. He was already breathing heavily. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping towards you.

As soon as he was in reach, you grabbed his wrist and placed it against your stomach, not even caring about getting the sleeves of his shirt wet. Frank stared at you, confused. He opened his mouth to question you further when—

Kick.

“Is that—?” he started. You nodded, grinning. Frank’s jaw went slack and he moved his free hand to the other side of your belly. The baby kicked again. “I never thought…” Frank trailed off, staring deep into your eyes. Before you could realize what was happening, you were up against the cool shower wall and Frank’s mouth was heavy on yours.

When you and Frank stumbled out of the shower a little while later, you found Annie asleep on the couch. The TV was still blaring her favorite show. You let her nap while you finished your morning routine. Half an hour later, you woke her up and helped her get dressed while Frank took Hulk for another lap around the block. Soon, the three of you were in your building’s elevator and venturing out into the world.

“Now, remember,” you said, fixing Annie’s hat over her curls, “what do we call Frank when we’re outside?”

“Pete,” she quickly answered, sucking on her lollipop she received that morning. You and Frank hadn’t told her much about his past, but you made sure she knew (in a kid-friendly way) that bad guys were after Frank and they couldn’t find out who he was. She was confused, but usually followed the rule anyway. Thankfully, her slipups happened mostly when no one else could hear her.

After a short walk, you arrived at Annie’s favorite park. As soon as you entered the fenced-in area, she sprinted towards the jungle gym. You turned to Frank as he shut the fence behind you. “This okay?” you asked, taking his hand. You knew sometimes parks like these, filled with screaming and laughing children, could set him on edge and remind him of his family.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could question that further, Annie was calling for you. Well, more for Frank, actually. “Pete! Come help me across the monkey bars!” Annie was standing on the ladder, but the first bar was out of her reach.

You watched Frank walk over and picked her up so she could reach and smiled when he held her by the waist to help her across. Then Annie made him help her three more times. (She sure was bossy. Frank once joked, “I have no idea where she gets it from.”) Soon, she was dragging Frank by the arm to some other part of the playground. You followed closely behind, occasionally taking pictures of the pair. You laughed when she had Frank go down a slide that was clearly too small for him. You regretted laughing when you, too, were made to go down the slide. Eventually, Annie made a friend and you moved to sit on a swing to watch her play.

“You’re really good with her, you know,” you said to Frank. He was leaning against a pole of the swing set, his arms crossed, as he kept a close eye on your daughter. “I’m really glad you’re in our lives.”

“Yeah, only I shouldn’t be,” he muttered. “Everything in my life goes to shit—”

You stopped him short. “I’m not here for this ‘I don’t deserve any of this’ bullshit tirade. Annie adores you. I adore you. I don’t even know where we’d be without you. I’m so thankful you’re in our lives and I don’t want you thinking you don’t deserve every little bit of the good headed your way because you do. Annie and I will worm our way into your heart whether you like it or not. We’re here to stay.” You stood and wrapped your arms around his waist. He didn’t return the gesture, but he didn’t push you away either. “Please let us love you.”

Eventually, Frank lowered his arms to wrap around your shoulders. He remained silent, but you would take it. You hoped eventually he would learn to accept the love of your little family, but for now, you were willing to leave him to his thoughts.

As the sun drifted closer to the horizon, you decided it was time to head back home for the night. After playing at the park, Frank treated you and Annie to ice cream cones and the three of you spent the afternoon wandering around the city before stopping for dinner at your favorite little restaurant. You decided to forego the trip to the grocery store today, pushing it off for tomorrow after eyeing Annie’s droopy, sleepy eyes. At some point on your way home, Frank started to carry Annie. You smiled as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, face pressed into his shoulder.

Your heart warmed even further when Frank softly laid your daughter in her bed. He was so careful and gentle with her, it was hard to imagine him as the notorious Punisher. He slowly pulled her shoes off and you helped him change her into her pajamas. Once finished, he eased her back down on her pillows and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“G’night, Daddy,” Annie murmured, burrowing further into her pillow.

You froze.

Shit.

What were you supposed to say? What would Frank think? All of those parenting books you read years ago, and none had any solution for a situation like this. What were you supposed to do?

But Frank hesitated only for a moment before pulling Annie’s blanket up and over her. “Night, sweetheart,” he said, laying one hand on her forehead before standing and leaving the room.

After a moment, your brain finally caught up and you followed him out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. You found him staring out the window of the living room, hands on his hips. “Frank?” you called softly. You slowly walked over to him and ran a hand up his spine.

Frank sighed and ran a hand roughly over his face. “If-if anything happened to you, happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to us.”

He pulled away from you. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. Because I know you. I know you would give your life for us. And I trust you. You won’t let anything happen.” You paused. “If…if you want me to tell Annie not to call you that anymore, I will. Just… I know you think you should run away from us, but Annie would be heartbroken if you left. So, please…just give us a chance. I promise you we’ll be fine. Just stick around for us, yeah?”

“Yeah…” He stepped into your outstretched arms, pulling you close. “Yeah.”

dividers by @writeyourmindaway

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #frank castle imagine #the punisher imagine #frank castle #the punisher #mcu #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #i didn't proofread this #by the end I was so frustrated with trying to figure out how to wrap things up I just said fuck it #sorry it took me a while #hope you like it!#pls send me more requests

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moonydaydreams · 5 years

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Fandom: It Lives In the Woods

Pairing: MC x Noah, MC x Connor (past)

Words: 7.363 (holy cow)

Summary: Lightning never strikes the same place twice, but a second chance does. Even for someone like Noah Marshall.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, angst 101 and swearing for dummies

Author’s note: This is my first Choices story and, holy cannoli, this is longer than I intended to be. But nonetheless, this an AU of what could have been had neither Noah or MC sacrificed themselves to take Jane’s place (THIS IS, IN ANOTHER WORD, A FORM OF DENIAL, Y'ALL. CAUSE THAT ENDING WRECKED ME) and Noah fled from Westchester. I’m sorry if the characters seem OOC or the story feels meh. So if you’re digging it or simply detest it, let me know, yeah? thanks!

———————————————————————————–

In a city where the subway stations smell like after-shave and peanut butter and jelly breath smelling college students at nine in the morning, and half of the street names that he still can’t recall to this day, a young man in a beanie, who couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one enters a small 24/7 convenience store with his hands thrust deep inside his coat pockets.

A burly, beer-swilling, 6 feet of a man behind the cashier, elbow-deep in the football magazine in his last season’s Real Madrid jersey, glances up from his reading upon his arrival. His eyebrows narrow.

“Never seen you visiting this late,” Romero comments dryly over the trip-hop music that is playing over the speakers and flicked his eyes back to the magazine. “Did you accidentally shoot your dealer or some shit?“

Romero’s attempt on making small talks with him, albeit as condescending as it sounds, does not fall on deaf ears. But it’s cold outside and he’s hungry and broke, he simply doesn’t have the will to entertain him.

“Shut up. I’m hungry,” replies the young man, stopping by the instant food section. His eyes finding the many varieties of flavors and brands and feels his stomach sick at the amount of artificial food he’s been consuming over the years. It’s like being eight all over again.

“Well, knock yourself out. We just stocked up those crazy spicy Korean ramen you kids can’t seem to stop feeding.” Romero’s face breaks into a mocking grin. “Can’t wait to see you all die from cancer.”

“Instant noodles don’t directly cause cancer on its own, actually.”

Romero burst into laughter. “And how the fuck does a two-bit junkie like you know that, Malcolm?”

The boy’s face involuntarily twitches.

And it isn’t because of how alien the sound when someone addresses him with his fake name or how Romero somehow thinks he has his character all figured out. The thing about living in incognito for years, he’s already become accustomed to those; to prejudices and living up to the persona that people design for him just to inflate their egos and ward them off of his tail in the process. No one wants to affiliate themselves with “the junkie” or “the hot-headed mechanic with suicidal tendencies” and he is more than fine with his solitary.

No. It is the nature of the question that throws him off guard and how his mind all too soon, against his better wishes, refers to her.

Suddenly, he is Noah again. Thirteen years ago at the age of eight, looking out of the window with Jane as they watched a girl about their age in a short tutu dress and combat boots climbing up the oak tree in their backyard to save a distressed kitten.

Their parents saw this, did a double-take, went hysterical and called her parents. He later learned her name was Liz and that she’d just moved into the neighborhood a week ago.

Then he sees Liz again, now a few months after their first encounter, running off to the forest with Jane’s arm linked with hers. He remembers her messy braided hair and freckles multiplied by the sun as they led Noah and the rest of their friends to abandoned ruins they’d somehow stumbled on a week ago.

His memory of her somehow jumps forward. Now, he sees her in a different light, a different vignette. It is from three years ago this time and she was no longer the Liz all knees, elbows and mud on her shoes young girl from his childhood. She was Liz, on the edge of seventeen, her hair nine shades lighter than when she was a kid (she also had bangs now) with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other, but still the same dark-eyed sprite that made his cold, dead heart skip a beat whenever she looked at his way and smiled that smile of hers; the kind that radiated her cheeks and lit up her eyes.

The same light that he watched slowly waning from her eyes when she discovered his ulterior plan.

His heart feels like shattering into smithereens all over again. He doesn’t realize he’s been squeezing on the noodle packet too tight until he hears the contents shatter in his hand.

“A friend told me,” Noah finds himself saying even before his brain can halt it. Staring blankly at the packet, his mouth dropping into a frown.

He can feel Romero’s gaze on him, curious and confused. Shifting between the packet in his hand and his glazed-over expression. Noah, realizing he’s just projected his emotion right out in the open, huffs and throws the squeezed noodle packet into his shopping basket.

Romero clears his throat. “Sounds like quite a friend.”

Noah pretends as if the jig isn’t exactly up and decides to actively ignore the older man. He gets the rest of his needs, holding the last of his composure against slipping and brings his groceries to the cashier, looking down at his feet whenever Romero glances at him in genuine concern.

“Catch ya later, Malcolm,” Romero says as he hands Noah the change. “And, uh… stay safe, you hear me?”

Noah, in return, only nods his thanks, probably a little too curt according to the polite society and leaves.

Outside, thunder begins to roll overhead. Noah eyes the sky nervously. It’s going to rain soon. And hard judging from the way the clouds are moving across the black midnight sky.

Noah rifles for his cigarette pack from his pockets, lights one and begins making his way back to his hellhole of an apartment. Treading slowly through the deserted streets, steering clear from alley-ways and suspicious characters until he can see the window of his apartment.

Then, Noah’s feet skid to a hard stop.

His jaw drops, his cigarette falling unheeded to the ground.

Sitting on the front steps of his apartment building is Liz, swathed in an oversized overcoat, her head leaning onto the railings, she seems to be sleeping.

What in the sweet fuck?

For a good minute, Noah stands stock-still. He simply gazes at his former best friend, nonplussed and borderline panicking. A migraine begins to form in his head. He gazes over his shoulder, watching and waiting for anyone to jump at him from the alley or anything, because there is no way in hell this is not a trap. This can’t be.

He waits and waits, but no one comes out. Confused, Noah looks at her again, his expression inscrutable. If this is not a trap, then this must be a cruel dream the universe pulls on him for all the wrongdoings he has committed in his life. That, or Noah must have tragically died on his way back home and ascended to heaven.

But then, if this is heaven, why is he here?

Eventually, Noah kneels before her. He reaches his hand out to her, hesitating mid-move and touches her shoulder.

“Liz?” he gives her shoulder a gentle shake. “Liz, wake up.”

She does. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, bleary and brown, and meets his gaze for the first time in three years. Noah feels like his breath stuck in his throat.

“Noah?” Liz blinks sleepily, twice, then yawns into the back of her hand. “What time is it?”

He glances at his phone. “A quarter past two.”

Liz’s brows furrow. “Huh. What were you doing out so late?”

“Had to do a supply run.” Noah gestures to the shopping bag in his hand. Then, “Liz, what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a broken whisper.

Liz doesn’t answer his question, merely wraps her arms around herself, attempting to keep warm and sighs tiredly.

“Noah, can we go inside?” she pleas, instead. Desperation fuelling her voice. “I’m tired and cold and I…” she trails off.

Consideration flashes in Noah’s eyes for a moment. The logical part of his head insists for him to take her to the nearest train station and send her off back to Westchester. It’s the right thing to do. Considering that he’s been laying low for years now, the last thing he needs to add to his ongoing headache is for the police to suspect that she’s an accomplice.

But he’s never been the wiser one.

So, he takes her gloved hand and helps her to stand and, after giving one last look at their surroundings, of course, ushers her inside the apartment building.

Neither says anything as they make their way to the staircase, as they venture through the grimy hallway where the dim and shadowed lights overhead following their every step like vultures and past the occupied doors where a loud, sexual moan comes from behind one of them.

She doesn’t make any comment about the awful state of the place he lives in, while he simply doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed because everything happens so sudden, Noah himself is still second-guessing if any of this is real.

Finally, they stop by his door. Noah produces the key from his wallet when he hesitates, remembering the state of the room the last time he left it.

“A bit of warning, though…” He rubs his neck, embarrassed. “it’s pretty messy inside.”

“It’s fine.”

Noah turns the key and eases the door open.

The rain has started to pour. Noah turns the side lamp on and takes off his coat, his groceries on top of the kitchen counter. He watches as Liz, as if in a daze, tosses her coat and gloves to his bed and walks towards the direction of the window. A hand against the windowpane, the flare of the street lamp outside illuminating her features in the dimness, she silently watches as the rain falls on the pavement. Lost somewhere in the tangled cobwebs of her thoughts.

And it occurs to Noah that she is no longer Liz, on the edge of seventeen with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other. She is Liz, older, with circles under her eyes, the world on her shoulders and a few pounds lighter than he remembers, but still the same dark-eyed sprite and with the pale shades of haired girl that he yearns to wrap his arms around and tells her how sorry he is for all those years ago, for leaving without saying a proper goodbye and how all these years it is her that keeps him going through every day and drives him insane at the same time.

But he can only remain in his place and forces to quell his desire to do the aforementioned. Because Noah’s pretty sure that privilege is long gone the moment his betrayal came to light. Even to be standing in the very room with her is a crime, yet here they are.

Here she is.

“Liz?“

“Yeah?”

“Have you, uh,” his gaze finds the ramen packets, suddenly feeling inspired. “Have you eaten anything?”

She is silent for a while. “No.”

“I’m making ramen, you want some?”

“Okay.”

With that, Noah rolls up his sleeves, takes two eggs and a few vegetables from the fridge and begins to work. He ditches the salty packet of MSG and makes his own broth while at the same time, mincing the garlic and green onion and grating the ginger. By the time he sautées the aromatics, Liz makes a beeline from the window and hops onto the counter, watching him distractedly as he continues cooking.

She stays silent and so does he. Despite the lack of words, everything feels strangely… domestic? Under different circumstances, Noah can easily get used to this; him cooking for her, with her becoming his taste tester whenever he’s experimenting with new recipes he finds on the internet and simply impresses her on a daily basis. Yeah, he can definitely get used to that.

Ten minutes passed, Noah then moves the ‘upgraded ramen’ to the bowls and serves one to her. The taste will probably pale in comparison to the one that her mom used to make, yet it earns him her first smile of the night, albeit small and closed-mouthed, it’s still a smile nonetheless.

He grabs two cans of beer from the fridge and moves onto the couch with her. They finish their meal within minutes, still in silence. For a moment, the only sound that encompasses the room is the rain and his next-door neighbor who has the TV going in full-blast. That asshole.

Noah reaches out for a cigarette pack from the coffee table, dexterously flicks his wrist so a single one pops halfway out of the carton. He casts her a sidelong glance.

“Do you mind if I…?” he trails off, gesturing to the cigarette.

Liz’s stare zeroes on the cancer stick, scowling, as if she doesn’t approve of this vice of his, but shrugs nonetheless.

“So, how, uh…” Noah clears his throat, gathering his courage. How does he do this? How do you break the ice with your former best friend who you happen to have a crush on for more than a decade and almost murdered because your dead twin sister compelled you to do so without being awkward?

“How are you, by the way?“ he manages to ask behind a plume of smoke.

“I’m doing okay,” she says but in a tone when someone is obviously not okay.

“Just okay?”

“I…” she hesitates. “Yeah, just okay.” Liz lies and manages a weak smile. Noah decides not to press for more information. “Though I’ve been busy these days. I’m trying to finish my dissertation sometime around next year.”

"Already?” And she nods. Noah whistles, obviously impressed. "I’m guessing you did take the English major?”

Liz’s eyes widened slightly. “You remember."

"Yeah.” Noah looks down. Of course he remembers, not when it’s impossible to forget the very idea of Liz Mortimer. “And your old man doesn’t try to fight you for this?”

“Nope. After Ja–” she clamps her mouth shut. “I graduated, let’s just say he had a hard time saying no to me.” She chuckles, but just for a good three seconds and Noah doesn’t have to ask why to know the reason behind her father’s sudden change of heart.

“How about you?” she asks, then shakes her head. “I mean, how are you?” She amends.

Heaven knows I’m always miserable, Liz. But he doesn’t say that. “I’m okay, too, I guess."

"Just okay?” Liz parrots his own words at him and he smiles, the left side of his mouth higher than the right. They may still be painfully awkward to one another, but it feels so good to be talking with her again.

“Nothing new under the sun for me, but I’m thriving. And, um, how’s the others?” a.k.a the bunch of group of friends I hurt.

“They’re alright. Lily started her own video game called Pixie Moon, which I have no doubt will take the world by storm the way Candy Crush did; Ava is writing a book about witch trials; Stace is studying journalism and basically kicking ass; Dan is pursuing psychology; His majesty King Kang himself is playing for the Bighorns; and Lucas, as you can expect, is off to save our earth.”

Noah swallows the information one by one. His face an inscrutable blank. All of his friends somehow have found a place on this earth, they all have moved on except for him, again, who’s still scratching around in the same old hole; his future derived, his past an endless pitfall.

“And Connor?” he asks quietly, when in truth he doesn’t give two-shits about the man. But he knows she does, and Noah loves her too much to let his jealousy dictate his behavior.

Suddenly, her face falls. Teeth chewing nervously on her lower lip. “He's… fine. He’s probably at home now as we speak.“

“And now you’re a long way from home.”

“So are you.”

Noah shakes his head. “Westchester stopped being my home the moment I turned eight.” He sighs forlornly, looks the other way, hands fidgeting. Force of habit. “Liz, as much as I’m glad to see you, but why did you come here?”

“How long have you been staying here?” Liz evades his question as if he never asked it in the first place.

Noah raises an eyebrow, exhales, but decides to play along. “Since August. So that’s two months. Probably, the longest I have ever stayed in one place.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Well, there was Utah and Kansas. Then Minnesota for a couple of weeks, but I couldn’t stand the cold and the rest is history,” he keeps his answer as vague as possible, not when he still has no idea the nature of her visit. “Look, why are you here?”

But still, the girl dodges his question. “Why do you–”

Until his patience can’t simply take it anymore.

Noah is all but scoots over to her position until their knees are touching, the cigarette forgotten on the ashtray, and grips her arms firmly. His eyebrows knitted as he takes in her stunned face.

“Liz.” There is a twinge of anger, confusion and desperation in the way he says her name this time. “Why are you here? You know you can’t be here. Goddamn it! If the fucking cops find out that you’re here…” Once he realizes what he is doing, he withdraws his hands as if she’s fire and now he’s burning.

“They won’t. I can assure you that."

"You don’t know that.”

“I know what I’m doing, Noah. Trust me, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew it’s not safe,” Liz replies, her tone doesn’t leave any room for doubts and he knows there is no way to talk his way around it. Not to mention, he trusts her, if there is anyone who can sneak behind authority and get away with it, it has to be her.

Noah shrugs, agreeable, but he isn’t going to let her off so easily.

“How did you find me, anyway?” he questions, reaching for his cigarette and takes a deep, long drag just to spite his throat. He has a feeling he might be smoking his misery away all night by the time she’s left.

The blonde-haired girl shrugs and absentmindedly leans her back against the couch, one arm wraps around her midsection. “It wasn’t easy, actually. But I made some new friends in Pine Springs and one of them is acquainted with the newly-minted Police Chief. Pulled a few strings and here we are.”

“Pine Springs? What the heck were you doing there?”

“It's… a long story. But there were people there needing my help, and in exchange, they helped me track you down. An eye for an eye.”

Lightning suddenly jags across the night sky, briefly illuminating the room, pulling him out of his musings. She jumps at the sound, startled, and instinctively reaches for his hand. Noah freezes at the contact, forgetting how her skin feels like on his or a decent human contact in general. It’s been so long. And somehow he loses the ability to speak, to think.

He definitely doesn’t think when Noah moves his hand under hers, intertwining their fingers together.

Noah feels her head moving, her eyes darting from their joined hands and to his face that turns into a parade of expressions– misery, regret and melancholy. The holy trinity of feelings he’s been bearing for the past three years– for the past thirteen years of his life, actually– and feels her hand squeezing back his.

“Christ, I can’t believe you went all through that shit just to find me,” he croaks, all but on the verge of tears. “And I left you just like that even without saying sorry.”

“Noah…”

“No, let me say it, Liz. I need to say it.” His hands are trembling, his composure this close from crumbling. “What I did was unforgivable. And I know there is nothing in this world that could help me undo the damage I’ve done to you and how I’ll spend the rest of my day regretting it, but regardless, I’m sorry,” he sobs, his whole body is shaking by now.

“I’m so sorry for the nightmare I put you through. I was so blinded by my own volition and revenge for Jane’s death that I hurt you, all of you in the process without giving a single rat’s ass about it.” Noah pauses, wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “I’m a monster, Liz. A selfish, heartless, miserable monster. God, I should have died that night.”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She plucks the cigarette from his other hand, discards it on her empty bowl and places her other hand on his shoulder. “Noah, look at me,” she says again, her voice like a caress. He looks up. “Don’t say that. You are not a monster. You’re just a byproduct of the pain from losing your sister, loneliness and bad parenting. That doesn’t make you a monster. That makes you human.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t lure his friends into abandoned ruins in the middle of a fucking forest where his sister died and put their lives hang in the balance.”

“No, they wouldn’t, but if there is anything Dan taught me is that people react to loss in different ways.”

Noah groans and pushing himself to his feet. “No, don’t try to find a way to justify this. Didn’t you forget, I could have killed you that night. You! The- the only one who gives a fuck whether I’m breathing or not.” The only one who matters. “If you hadn’t stopped her… God, I don’t even want to go there.“

She gets up from the couch as well. “I’m not justifying anything. Yes, what you did to us was… It was harrowing, it was despicable but I also knew the extent of your agony that drove you to do it. I understand… and like what I said that night in the cave; it’s not your fault. Not exclusively, at least. And I forgive you for it.”

“Liz–”

“No, listen to me, we all made mistake–”

He snorts. “Not on a grand scale like this, I bet.”

“Maybe not. But the fact that you give a shit and beat yourself up for years for what you did, that already speaks a lot,” she says. “You’ve tormented yourself enough. It’s not going to do you anything good. It’s not going to erase anything. What you need to do now is to close that book. Get a new one, write a new story, move on. I have forgiven you, I’m sure the others have forgotten about what happened until someone mentions it, it’s your turn now.”

Her words hit him like a piledriver and for the first time in probably like forever, he does feel slightly better. Even if only an infinitesimal amount and even he may won’t be forgiving himself anytime soon, but still, hearing those words coming from her mouth mean the whole world to him.

“Why did you really come here, Liz?” The question is a tad out of place, but it feels like their previous conversations were made entirely to build up for this.

Her frown melts away, replaced with somewhere between doubt and conflict. He holds her gaze for a minute, undeterred, then she turns her back on him to face the window once more. The suspense gnaws at him, yet still, he bides his time.

“I have something to tell you,” she finally says, keeping her voice low.

“What is it?” He replies rather impatiently. When she seems to be hesitating, he adds, “And don’t beat around the bush, Liz.”

A deep breath, foot taps, a hand clutching at the hem of a buttoned-up dress and another deep breath.

“Connor proposed to me.”

A beat. Then,

“Oh,” and it’s barely audible. And Noah feels like his heart has been torn from his chest, thrown into the ground, drags it through the mud then stomps on it for good measure. And that he feels worse and emptier than he was before she came here. “Congratulations.”

The words that come out of his mouth could have been his, because he can barely hear his own voice in this white noise. He always knew Connor and her were smitten with each other the moment she stepped into the hardware store for the first time, but Noah doesn’t expect it all would extend to marriage.

She looks over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. “I wasn’t finished.”

Noah blinks at her, momentarily confused. “What?”

“I…” her voice wavers. When she turns to face him again, she is pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes scrunched up. “Ah, fuck this is never going to be easy. Long story short, I freaked out, made a scene at a restaurant, ended our three-year on-and-off relationship and went here.”

“Wait, what?”

Liz shrugs, guiltily, all Atlas-and-the-weight-of-the-world.

“Yeah,” she, much to his surprise (and concern), chokes a laughter, manic and loud. “Yeah, I did it. I fucked up the longest relationship I’ve ever had and broke my best friend’s brother’s heart because I wasn’t ready, because I’m an idiot.” When she does look at him, her eyes are bright. “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

For a brief, candid moment, Noah’s brows furrow as his mind goes to one of his former friends. Is it Dan? Ava? Or could it be Lucas? Because the last time he saw them together, they were pretty inseparable– although their relationship is strictly platonic as far as he’s concerned. Has that dynamic changed after he left?

Then Noah realizes her eyes are still on him– and quite expectantly, that is, and that’s not… no, that can’t be right, can it?

His demeanor shifts drastically as he stands there, stunned silence. Disarmed by her confession.

He tries to speak, but his jaw won’t shut back to its place; his brains short-circuiting.

“Yes, I have loved you ever since I’ve known you, Noah Marshall,” Liz mutters when he remains silent. He can tell this is something she’s been holding in for a long time. “Even though we hadn’t spoken to each other for years after Jane, there hadn’t been a day that I didn’t think of you. When we finally reconnected three years ago, I wanted to say all these things to you, but..” she smiles wistfully. “Well, shit happened.”

“Why?” Of all the people you could have fallen in love with, why me? What he means to ask.

“Because you understand me like no one else; because you climbed up to my window to bring me your homemade grilled cheese sandwich when I was grounded when we were 8; because you actually listened and showed me that my vulnerability doesn’t always have to be my weakness; because I love the way you wear your beanie like 24/7 and the way you shake my hair whenever I say something stupidly amusing to you. Because it’s you!”

“No.” It’s a denial, it’s an attempt to ward her off from someone like him. It’s a lie. “No, no, no, no, no, Liz, you can’t fall in love with someone who’s-who’s mentally unstable or tried to kill you in the past, that’s like…” he gesticulates wildly. “Crazy! You are crazy!”

“I’m sorry, are you any better?”

“Of course not! But to forgive me is one thing, Liz, to love me, that’s a whole different level of insanity.” Noah begins to pace agitatedly around the room back and forth. “Fuck. I can’t hear this. Not from you.”

“Why not?” He sees the hurt expression on her face. Then interrupts just as soon as he opens his mouth. “Noah, I’m not asking for your answer this instance–heck, I’m not even asking you to reciprocate my feelings, but please don’t invalidate my emotions. Not when I waited for years to say it to you.”

“But this fucking complicates everything!” Noah points out.

“Maybe. Maybe not, but you don’t know that,” she says resolutely, echoing his words from before.

Noah doesn’t say anything in return.

She steps closer and slowly raises her palm to cup his cheek, an attempt to calm the storm within him. His hand grasps her wrist before she can make contact.

“Noah–"

His breathing quickens. Noah swallows and shakes his head.

“Liz, we can’t do this. No matter…” he sighs, his eyes boring into hers. Here he is, again, dangling on the edge of damnation, of what’s right and wrong. It’s wrong, yet he knows that she knows, from the heat and electricity that dance between them, from the pressure of his fingers that tell different stories, that he, too, wants the same thing.

“No matter what, Noah?” She murmurs, staring up at him with hopeful eyes. She really wants him to say it, does she?

He extricates her hand from him, taking steps back, putting as much distance he can from her. “Forget it.”

“Look, Noah, if you feel what I think you’re feeling, then what is it that you’re afraid of?"

Noah whirls around to face her again. "Everything! Can’t you see that if we do this, the world will turn against us?"

“Since when do you care about other people’s opinions?”

“I wasn’t worrying about me.”

"Well, I don’t give a fuck what others or this thrice-damned world thinks!” she exclaims mulishly. “After all we’ve been through, is it so wrong to be selfish, to follow your own heart just once– just once? Is it– don’t you care about what you want?”

“I want-” Noah stops. His hands tugging at his red beanie cap. “Never mind what I want.”

Her voice is quieter now. “What do you want, Noah?”

For an interminable moment, heavy with the promise of both release and regret, he only stares at her. Contemplating his options.

Perhaps loving her shouldn’t be the sin he thought it was, especially when she wants the same thing in return. Although he’s more than aware that he’s the last person in this world who deserves her affection, but deep down, Noah knows that he’ll never forgive himself if he didn’t run the risk now and spent the rest of his life wondering what it felt like instead.

“You.” Always you.

She holds his gaze. “Then have me.”

And as if an unknown force was taking over his body, Noah crosses the distance between them, his free hands cradling her face, drawing her close and kisses her.

It’s like a dam breaking, everything floods out. They do not kiss gently, desperation orchestrating their every move that the world around him grows distant and dim. Twelve years of pining for each other, of secretive glances, of murder attempt and mutual misery and it all leads them to this. His thumb skimming the curve of her throat and feels her pulse leaps. He stops. Worrying if he’s crossed the line.

But Liz grabs the front of his clothes, pulling him even closer– as if they aren’t close enough– and kisses him back with a matching fervor. Her body pressed against his, warm and unfamiliarly familiar, and Noah swears his heart skips when she emits a quiet desperate noise that he happily swallows.

Suddenly, Noah pulls back. “Liz, I’m sorr–” he says breathlessly.

“No, don’t you dare apologize,” she says firmly, her lips still tinged pink from their kiss. “I… I started this.” Her tongue darted out over her lips. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want this.” Noah’s hands dropped to her waist, his cheeks burned. He’s inexperienced, yes, and it shows, yes, but this is Liz. The last thing she does is to laugh at his face about it. “You?”

“You have no idea.”

His cheeks grow redder. “I’m, uh… now what?"

"I think,” she leans in, tiptoeing, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and playfully says, “I want you to kiss me again.”

Noah grins, more relaxed now knowing he has her consent. “I think I can provide that.”

He let her set the pace this time. Kissing him softly and sweetly, but as equally mind-blowing as the first time before the next thing he knows, they are kissing senselessly once more; the next thing he knows, she swipes her tongue on his lower lip. Drawing a surprised groan from him. His lips instinctively open up to her ministrations and he is rendered weak when Noah feels her warm tongue delves into his mouth. He tries to follow her example, but can hardly navigate through his own mind every time.

He can feel her fingers toying and tugging his beanie off, her nails grazing his scalp and his desire rocketed. And this time, Noah isn’t afraid to act, as his hands on her waist slowly glide upward; from her hips to her ribs, stopping just under her breasts which results in Liz’s breath to hitch in his mouth. His mouth travels down her jaw, the length of her neck, her collarbone.

When he finds himself on the bed, on his back, and Noah has absolutely zero clue how or when he got that way.

He sits up. Without thinking, grabs her hips to pull her onto his lap, hands rough, settling her against him as he tips her head upward and continues his onslaught on her neck. Her hands on his shoulders, coming up to the strands of his hair. Encouraging him, guiding him lower and lower until his mouth reaches her clothed breast.

“Oh my god.” Liz’s eyes closed in pure bliss, caught up in the sensation, and ground her hips against him and, fucking hell, the friction feels so good and erotic and sets his entire being alight that Noah isn’t fast enough to stop the low, rumbling moan that comes from his mouth.

“Fuck,” Noah swears and rolls his hips in response. At this rate, even if he wants to, he can’t hide the evidence of his physical desire, growing hard against her, making her produce these small high-pitched gasps every time his bulge brushes her just right, her pupils blown to hell and fucking fuck.

He is dry humping Liz. Liz. His sister’s best friend. His Achilles’ fricking heel. Good fuck, if Jane was still alive, what would she say about this?

“Noah?” She whispers.

He doesn’t realize he’s been lost in his own thoughts. “Sorry.” Noah mentally clears his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out on you back there.”

She stares at him, seemingly unconvinced. “Did I go too far?"

"What? No, no, you are incredible. Don’t worry.” To prove his point, he gives her thigh a distracting squeeze. “Liz, what if I say I want more? What if I say that I want you?”

Liz is quiet for a while. “Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I know the last time we met I said I wasn’t ready for dating and stuff, but it’s you. And if you’re up for it, I’m game, but if you–” Liz chuckles at his stammering. Whispering “You’re fucking adorable” as Noah groans and hides his face on the crook of her neck. “Liz, you’re fucking driving me out of my mind here.”

“Well, I’m game.” Liz leans in and kisses his temple. Noah can practically hear her smile from here. “You know, for someone who seemed adamant on pushing me away, you’re awfully eager.”

He grins, running his finger down her spine until every hair in her body stood up. “Keep teasing me, and you’ll regret it, Mortimer.”

“Bite me, Marshall.”

Noah does bite, literally, on that delicious spot under her ear before flipping her onto her back on the bed, making her giggle like a drunken schoolgirl; making her dress hike up to her thigh, just enough for him to see her underwear. He settles himself atop her, right between her legs. His hips and an unmistakable hardness press firmly against her soft thighs.

This is it, then. The wheels are in motion now and Noah can scarcely believe this is happening.

She props up on her elbows and begins undoing the buttons of her dress with great speed, eyes never leaving his until she pulls him for another searing kiss. Then Liz raises her legs, wrapping them around his waist and rolls her hips once more.

She moans softly, as Noah’s mouth trails wet kisses down her throat, nipping and sucking as he goes, until it finds its way to her nipple. He bucks up into her, growling, as he takes her other nipple in his mouth. His shaky hand makes to drop her legs away from his waist, yanks the hem of her dress upward and dips between her legs, slipping past the waistband of her underwear to touch her that she jolts, gasping and moaning loudly altogether.

Liz writhes, her hands clutching onto his sweatshirt like a lifeline, head tilted back as her hips involuntarily move against his hand, desperate for relief. Noah inserts two fingers, watching with heated gaze for her reaction as he pumps in and out, long and slow, short and fast. Pushes deeper, crooks his fingers a little. The rough pad of his thumb rubbing her clit in fast circles until her moan grows increasingly loud and she comes hard, shattering into Noah’s fingers.

When it’s over, Liz is a panting, limp noodle. She lays there, properly spent, smiling contently at the ceiling with heavy, bedroom eyes. Noah hovers above her, kissing her nose with a newfound satisfaction as he watches her trying to even her erratic breaths.

“Whoa.” She breathes out. “I guess I should have known those hands weren’t made only for kitchen knives.” And lazily wraps her arms around his neck. “Jesus, I’m wasted.”

His teeth gently nibbling her earlobe, his hand teasing her nipple again. “I’m nowhere near done with you.” Fingers trailing down to her warm, still over-sensitive slit again that Liz shudders like a flower. “Not even close.”

“I can’t–” And Noah freezes, thinking if he’s gone too far. “No more foreplay. Fuck me, Noah. Now. Please, I want you.”

In an uncontrolled frenzy, Noah pulls away from her, removes his sweatshirt while Liz assists with the buttons of his shirt. He works on his belt, freeing his member from the tight confines of his jeans and pulls her panties over her knees. Not bothering with the rest of her dress.

They kiss again as he repositions himself above her. Liz’s hand reaches down to grab him, guides the head toward her entrance, her legs once again settling around his waist.

In his head, Noah mentally prepares himself, counts to five, then slides his girth into her. The two groan in unison at the joining.

“Jesus fuck.” Noah’s head flops forward, jaw clenching. He is inside her, and it feels a dizzying kind of spectacular. “Fuck, Liz, you feel so good.”

Below him, a crackling gasp escapes her lips, her mouth drops into a perfect circle as her head falls back to the bed and looking oh so beautiful. Noah begins to rock his hips into her, the strands of his brown hair brushing against her damp forehead, the parts of his brain that enable him to think slowly shut down. His hand wanders to touch every part of her body.

Everything is on fire. Everything feels so fucking good.

“Look at me.” She does, through lidded eyes, lashes heavy with arousal. “Say my name.” Noah never really thought he would be this vocal in bed, but there’s just something about Liz that brings this side of him. “Say it, Liz.”

“Noah,” Liz moans his name, clinging to him like mad, nails raking his back. “Noah, shit. Faster.”

Noah wordlessly obliges, liking the way she thrashes underneath him. Her breaths coming faster, higher so he moves even faster, pounding into her with reckless abandon just to show her how much strength he has. He finds himself growling rather animalistic against her skin, biting her shoulder. Feeling himself drawing closer and closer to the edge. He isn’t going to last any longer.

He puts a hand between them to rub her clit and Liz’s eyes roll back.

“Ooohh, god. N-noah!” she cries out, her words quickly morphed into a desperate wail. "Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh, please!”

Liz is a blubbering mess, screaming against the pillow. It is too much. The combination of his cock fucking her mercilessly and the friction his fingers provided on her sensitive spot is enough to make the girl convulse pathetically on the bed.

When she comes, he follows not long after. Going rigid and groaning gutturally in her ear, emptying himself inside her.

When the ripples have passed, Noah collapses on top of her. Both panting and sweating from… whatever is it that just happened between them. Liz cradles him against her breasts, peppering tired kisses to his hair that is now sticking out wildly in every direction, locking him in her embrace, their left hands intertwining.

They stay like that for a few minutes, in a very much comfortable silence since she first set her foot here before Noah rolls to the side on the bed.

“Holy shit, we just had sex,” he says when he’s regained the power to speak again.

Liz chuckles and turns to face his side, sticking one of her legs between his while he pulls the covers over their forms. “Yep. Though, honestly, I never would have thought we’d end up having sex when I came here tonight.”

“Liz, I didn’t even know you’d be coming over. I can safely say tonight has been one hell of a surprise after another.”

She doesn’t say anything. At least not for a while.

“I hope you know I meant every word that I say to you,” she says kindly. “You’re not the villain in the story, but neither you are the hero. You are human, with your flaws and all, and I love you despite all of it.”

“Except you. You are an angel, Liz.”

“Noah, I basically turned down Connor’s marriage proposal, broke up with him and went straight into your arms in a matter of days.” She sighs guiltily. “No, we all just wear our demons differently.”

“Maybe. But you said it yourself, we are all just humans with our flaws and all. But you,” Noah turns and cups her cheeks in his hands. “you will always be an angel in my book. You saved me, Liz. When the whole world raised their torches and forks on me, you freaking saved me where you could have fed me to the mob. You’re the reason why I’m still here today and I love you for it, you hear me?” He pulls her into his arms when a tear starts to fall from her eye.

“I’m so in love with you, Elizabeth Mortimer. Always have and always will.” He kisses her cheek. “You’re the kindest, most beautiful, the brightest human being I’ve ever known. I’m the luckiest person to have you be in love with me and if you’re up for it, I want to build a world around you.” He adds, “Instant noodles included.”

Liz laughs, still teary-eyed, shoves him playfully on the shoulder, feigning a glare. “You jerk. Always have the flair to ruin a moment.”

Noah chuckles. “Technically, you love instant noodles, so it’s only right, don’t you think?” She shoves him again. “And I’m your jerk now.”

“My jerk.” Yet she says it the same way someone says ‘my love’. “I love you too, Noah Marshall. And I want to build that world together with you.”

Noah smiles. Because he loves her and because for the first time in forever, his life makes fucking sense.

Yes, he doesn’t know whether their relationship will last or will it crash and burn in the future, but at this exact moment, he’s happy and it seems that she does too. And that is all that matters now.

And if there is one thing that he’s sure of is that he knows that he doesn’t ever want to let this go. Not in a million years.

#playchoices #it lives in the woods #it lives anthology #it lives choices #noah marshall #noah x mc #choices #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices it lives in the woods #ilitw #ilitw mc #pixelberry #choices ilitw #my writing ye #mine

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gingersimasnaps · 4 years

Text

True Colors (Vera Stone/Hamish Duke)

Title: True colors Word count: 4601 Summary: Vera Stone needs to paint her living room. Hamish Duke is ready to help. fluff&smut; OOC Vera; AU - law office

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„Mr. Duke, don’t you really have better things to do than watching me?“ CEO of Blue Rose Law Office Vera Stone was standing with her back turned to him, reading through some documents she pulled out of a shelf.

Hamish blinked. Was he really that obvious, or did she just… know? Because that was exactly what she was doing. She knew things. She knew that Angus, complete idiot from analytic department, smoked a cigarette on the toilets at the opposite end of the building, even though no smoking was rule number one in the office. She knew who hacked his colleague Nicole’s phone and sent photos of her and her girlfriend to almost everyone, though the evidence didn’t exist, and police IT specialists came empty handed. She knew when some employee wanted to call in sick, hours before the employee even thought about this idea.

„Hmmm… Actually no, I don’t think so,“ answered Hamish. Vera turned to him with rigid expression on her face, but when he smirked, she just rolled her eyes. If it was someone else, she would probably just wipe them out of the face of the Earth. It was more than obvious she had a soft spot for Hamish.

Blue Rose Law Office was well known across the whole city of Belgrave. For its quality too, of course, but mainly for the fact it was almost hermetically closed for ordinary people. Unless you were a spoiled descendant of some high-ranking snob, you didn't have a chance to get into the Blue Rose. But about a year and a half ago, it was discovered that CEO Edward Coventry, who was also high seated in the city council, was tunneling Blue Rose for his own enrichment. He had been doing so systematically and successfully for several years, with the help of influential clients who owed him for saving them from justice. After the truth came out, he was removed from management. No one was too surprised when he ran away. It has been speculated that he‘s been hiding on his private island Vade Maecum in the southern Caribbean.

Vera was selected to be the new head of the office. It was a logical step. Surprisingly, as the newest member of the Gnostic council (seriously, this company was so snobbish, that their managing board was named Gnostic, and even people had their rankings – Hamish was currently a Magistratus, which was pretty high for a newcomer), she exposed Coventry's unfair practices and helped to break his entire plan. Her promotion was the reward. And simply because she was Vera Stone, she drastically changed established practices. She hired a whole bunch of young, relatively ordinary people to join the company. Some left after a shorter or longer time, but otherwise it turned out that Vera really knew where to reach - most of the new staff had proven to be very capable and useful to the office. Everyone got an assigned person, something like a tutor. Hamish had no idea how he ended up under the leadership of Vera Stone herself, but although his friends from the office either teased him mercilessly about that or pitied him, he was happy with the outcome. He had always been able to appreciate a strong person in leadership. And Vera was definitely such a person.

They’d been working together for a little over a year, during which time they built a working relationship based on trust in each other's decisions, on the fact that they both excelled in something different and complemented each other perfectly, on the long nights they spent over documents and contracts… And also on the tension that was between them. Not hostile, definitely not. He had once thought it came from Vera's reluctance, or perhaps outright inability to trust anyone, but now, for some time now, he had been sure that what was literally sparkling the air between them was a mutual attraction that the two were trying to fiercely suppress. But it was precisely these moments - when Hamish made some cheeky remark and she didn‘t kill him for it - that proved that they may not be as strong as they seem at first glance.

"Okay," Vera sighed, snapping the file closed and putting it back in its place. "I think we should call it a night. It's late, and I have work tomorrow. "

"Here?" Hamish asked, and dug his heels on the ground to pull his body into a slightly more upright position. He sat in a comfortable office chair, and during the evening he had made himself even more comfortable by sliding down.

"No," the blackhaired woman replied, walking back in her awfully high heels to the table where she sat on her own chair. "I need to paint the living room. I have a day off tomorrow for the first time in ages, so it‘s the right time. "

"Paint? Will you paint — like by yourself? ”Hamish said this before he could stop himself, and this time Vera really gave him a hard look.

"There's something surprising about that, Mr. Duke? ”

"Of course not," Hamish replied. "I was just wondering if you wouldn‘t want to… help."

And here it was again. He really meant it as just an offer of help, but for some reason it sounded like he was offering her help with something completely different. Vera looked at him.

"Hm," she said, resting her chin on her index finger, "it's true that I could probably appreciate a… man's hand." He didn‘t believe she wasn't flirting with him now. He leaned in a little.

"So what time?" God, it really sounded like they were arranging some secret rendezvous at a hotel.

"Eight o‘clock," Vera replied. "Sharp." She got up, picked up her purse, and headed for the door.

"Are you going to spend the night in my office?" She asked him as she had her coat draped over her arm, and Hamish still showed no signs of getting up.

"Not today," he told her, as if he intended to any other night. She rolled her eyes at him again and let him pass so she could lock her office. Together they went to the underground garages. There was silence on the elevator ride, and Hamish wondered what she was thinking about.

"Good night, Grand Magus," he told her as she unlocked her car and was about to get in it. The Grand Magus was a nickname given to her by one of the newcomers. Hamish would bet anything it was his friend Randall. Of course, the nickname reached her, but probably no one had dared to use it right in front of her yet.

Vera narrowed her eyes and gave him a slightly ironic smile. "I hope you haven't forgotten what I said. Sharp. ”She got into her luxury SUV and started the car. Hamish smiled and opened the door to his car. Vera was already leaving when he took off. He noticed that she was watching him in the rearview mirror. The prospect of painting had never been more interesting, he thought, and he also drove home to get a good night's sleep before tomorrow's work.

The next morning, at exactly eight o'clock, he rang the bell at Vera's house. When she opened the door for him, he was quite surprised. He only knew her as the leading person of the office in her ‚CEO's uniform‘, which included a dress or nice costume, and high heels. But now she stood before him barefoot, in leggings and a plain white T-shirt, her hair tied in a messy knot.

"Did you swallow your tongue along with your breakfast?" Vera asked, pulling him out of his contemplation of her outfit.

"No," he replied. "But when someone needs to start painting at eight in the morning, even if they have the whole day off, they have to count with the fact that not everyone is a morning bird." Vera rolled her eyes at him again – that was slowly becoming their sign - and let him go inside. Hamish took off his shoes and coat and handed her a box. She looked at him questioningly.

"Those are doughnuts. No tarantula is going out of it, ”he grinned, watching in astonishment as Vera shuddered with disgust.

"Don't talk about spiders in front of me. Never."

“Arachnophobia? I wouldn't tip you on that. ”He followed her into the living room, which was connected to the kitchen. "I wouldn't tip you on orange, either," he added when he saw the kitchen walls.

"It's apricot," she corrected him immediately. "Did you come to solve my phobias or paint?"

"Depends on the situation," Hamish replied nonchalantly. He went to the living area. Vera had already managed to cover the floor with plastic and move all the things that weren’t too heavy for her to be picked up by herself. Together with Hamish, they set out to push the heavy, massive furniture away from the walls to access them.

"Really, is such furniture necessary at all?" Hamish snorted. "If you don't want it to fall apart after five days of use, it is," Vera snapped, almost out of breath. Fortunately, they had the last chest of drawers left. Hamish went to her to take down the photos of her. There were two. In one was Vera with some young, redhead girl. They seemed to be related. He had probably never seen his boss laughing so cheerfully as in the picture.

"That's my niece," Vera said, suddenly appearing beside him. "Laura."

"I didn't know you have a niece."

"That’s pretty logical," she told him. "Theoretically, you shouldn’t be bothered with my personal life, especially considering that most employees think I don't even have any, but if you're already holding the photo…" she shrugged.

"Are you close?" Hamish asked. "And I don't think you don‘t have a personal life."

"Um, I suppose yes, we are. She lived here with me for a few years, but then she decided to attend Yale and moved there." Hamish decided not to ask why Laura didn't live with her parents.

"What is she studying?"

"Law." It was Vera who grinned now for a change, and Hamish chuckled.

"Runs in the family, apparently."

"Yeah, sort of."

He set the frame behind him in the prepared box, and took another, a little smaller, in his hand. "Is this Laura, too?" He asked another question, showing the photo to Vera. He saw her features stiffen.

"No. Katharine. My daughter, " she replied in a tone that made it clear she would not answer the next question about the baby in the picture, and snatched it from his hand. Hamish understood, of course, but that didn't mean it didn't ignite his curiosity. He didn't need to extract evidently painful memories from her. But he wanted to get to know Vera. Not CEO Stone, but Vera. The woman who painted the walls herself, had a niece studying law at Yale and who had just played a music CD from ABBA.

"Can we get started?" She threw a paint roller at him.

"Sure, Magus. What color? ”

"White first, to make the color brighter. Then red. "

"I didn't expect anything else." After half an hour of painting, he realized that Vera was humming in a low voice along with the CD. He stopped and listened. His parents insisted on a music education, so as a child he was attending piano classes. He had never felt any great love for it, but right now he wished he could play the piano along with her singing, which sounded very good. Voulez-vous song ended, and – of course - Does Your Mother Know came next. Hamish began to hum, too. As soon as Vera heard that, she raised her voice a little. You're not gonna win this one, the blonde thought, and also added to the volume. Before long, they both sang as if they were at a concert, while the original tape of ABBA was barely audible. When the song ended, the two laughed. More, Hamish thought again. More of this sweet laughter.

After the white paint dried, they dug their rollers into the red color, but halfway through the walls, Vera let out a huff.

"That looks awful," she said, expressing the thought Hamish had had in his head from the beginning.

"I agree," he nodded. "We need to repaint it white again."

"Are you sure?"

"It can't get any worse."

"Cheeky," she told him with a smirk. As it was almost 4PM, they decided to take a break, and eat the dougnuts-not-tarantulas he brought. Then they went to work again.

Taking advantage of Vera's good mood, Hamish decided to tease her. He grabbed a brush, dipped it in paint, crept up behind her, and ran it over her nose during her unguarded moment.

"HEY!" Vera shouted, turning sharply to see Hamish's perfectly satisfied expression. "You’re so gonna pay for this,“ she growled with a sly smile, turning her back on him.

"I want to see that," he replied, turning back to his part of wall. He was alert, but probably not enough. At one point he bent down to dip the roller in the paint - and at that moment Vera's hand, soaked in white paint they were using, landed on his black T-shirt.

He looked at her, and suddenly an immense desire to kiss the triumphant grin on her face seized him. But then something better occurred to him. He grabbed her in his arms, making her yelp in surprise, and in one smooth motion he pressed her against the freshly painted wall. „So who won?“ he said, face centimeters from hers. It looked like she would want to fight and get out of his grip, so he pushed his knee inbetween her legs, to hold her in place. Vera gasped.

„This is not a… game, Mr. Duke,“ she said under her breath.

„Oh yeah? I had a feeling we could be a little playful since it’s our free day.“ Hamish let go one of her hips, only to pull the rubber band out of her vantablack hair, to let them fall freely all over the white, wet wall. His palm brushed a few strands out of her face, and when he shifted a little, his knee rubbed against Vera’s leggins, close to her center. Vera almost closed her eyes and arched against him a little, and that was all he needed.

He kissed her so heatedly and passionately, that he earned another whimper from her. Vera wounded her arms around his neck and when he pulled his leg from between her legs and gripped her butt instead, she wrapped her legs around him. Hamish finally detached her from the wall and backed off to where he suspected the couch was. Vera took his bottom lip between her teeth. His strong hands on her ass were driving her mad. She was coming home aroused almost regularly since they started working together, and first thing she would do when she got back to her house was to touch herself. Hamish and his damned smile, kind eyes, and the oh so intoxicating smell… She always ended up imagining it was his hand carresing her down there. And now, it was going to be finally, finally, finally true.

The blonde guy eventually opted to lay her on the fluffy white rug, not the couch, not letting go of her lips for one second. Vera closed her eyes when those lips touched that sensitive spot on her neck for the first time, and a soft moan escaped her. She tangled her hand in his hair and arched her back again a little. When she opened her eyes again, Hamish’s t-shirt was gone, and she had no idea how he did it. She forgot about it though, as soon as his hands gripped the hem of her own t-shirt, and took it off, along with her sport bra.

"So beautiful," whispered Hamish, his breath hot against her skin, and it sent a wave of arousal all the way down to her already wet slit.

„Gosh,“ she panted, when Hamish took one of her nipples into his mouth, and began sucking on it. Hamish smiled at her cunningly, and gently bit the nipple. Vera felt small pain, immediately soothed out by his tongue, and if she ever experienced heaven, it was right now. She heard some sounds of pleasure, and realized it was her own voice. God, what was this man doing to her… He could be literally just casually standing somewhere, wearing his smile, and she would consider it a turn on. But the only thing standing now was his cock, which was visible through his pants. Vera wanted to reach down and palm his bulge, but right just as she was raising her hand, Hamish decided to lick her stomach all the way down, right to the waist of her leggins.

"Oh God!" Vera dug her nails into his shoulders, feeling everything inside her twist with desire. Hamish bit the skin on her belly, and then, very impatiently, just ripped her pants and panties away.

"I should probably require a compensation for this," Vera panted. Hamish’s face appeared abover hers.

"Shut up, Magus," he growled, and kissed her so deeply that her brain just stopped for a while. Her hands were working on their own, clawing his back and leaving long red marks on it, soothing it right after with tender palm caresses. His kiss didn’t last long, though, and before she even tried to make her brain work, she felt Hamish’s tongue circling her pussy, but not touching her where she wanted him the most.

When the almost painful pleasure became too much for her to bear and Vera was literally trembilng with desire, she was torn between loving him and wanting to kill him.

"Hamish, please, please, stop teasing me," she almost sobbed, and in the way his lips moved upward against her sensitive flesh, she understood this was what he wanted her to do the whole time. The tip of his tongue touched her clit and she jerked her hips to him. He was unbelievable. Unbelievably goo-

"Jesus fuck!" Vera cried out loud, when Hamish put his whole mouth on her pussy and his tongue began attacking her swollen clit. She was dripping wet, good God, he was making her wetter than she ever been in her whole life - and she had had some good sex before.

She held his head close to her center with her thighs, almost as if afraid he will pull back, and leave her alone with this unbearable desire. But Hamish had no intentions to do so. Her mound had the most intoxicating smell, and it felt like silk, hot silk, and tasting her was already his favorite thing to do.

Vera bucked her hips to him, being so painfully, breathtakingly close… And then Hamish slid two of his fingers into her, curled them slightly, and started fucking her, excrutiatingly slowly. When he sucked her whole clit into his mouth and thrusted his fingers‘ full length into her, it sent her over the edge. She cried out with pure exctasy, eyes closed, back arched, ankles crossed behind his back, wishing for this feeling to never end.

Hamish was kissing his way back up, and when he captured Vera’s mouth once again, she could taste herself in his honey-like kisses, and it felt better than any other thing she had ever tasted. He slipped one arm under her back and then spun them around abruptly. Vera let out a surprised yelp, because she was suddenly sitting on him, and Hamish had to steady her by holding her hips.

"Easy, lady," he smiled. Vera felt like she could fly, but he was still so hard against her right thigh, and she thought it would be fair to give him release too. Who cares about painting, after all.

She kneeled beside him and took his pants down. At first, she only caressed him through his boxers - Calvin Klein, apparently he had some style - but he tried to prey her hand off.

"You don't have to-"

She cut him off with a finger on his lips. "I want to. And you definitely don't want to open a dispute with your boss.” With that, she pulled his underwear down, and took him in her soft, warm hand. Hamish supressed a moan. This woman is really one of a kind, he thought, when her hand moved up and down on his cock. When she bent her head down and took him in her deliciously hot mouth, teasing the tip of him with her tongue, another moan worked its way out of him. Even the plain sight of her head between his legs was almost too much, and her mouth felt so good and right… It didn’t took her more than a few minutes to make him come. The last thing he did before his seed spurted was to pull her back. For some reason he didn’t feel comfortable by the image of Vera swallowing his sperm - she was too precious for such thing.

They both needed a while to steady their breaths. Two piles of their clothes laid around them and half red, half white walls were waiting for them, but the two couldn’t care less. Hamish was first to stand up, and he pulled Vera with him, only to take her into his arms again. Vera wrapped her legs around his waist again, but this time, she took his face in her hands, and kissed him. Her long hair blocked him the view, so after a few steps, he stubbed his toe and fell forward. Fortunately, it was her couch. Vera squeaked, when her back hit the pillows, and he fell face first on her chest. She started laughing.

"Oh my God, this is like D grade category movie," she said between giggles. Hamish couldn’t help himself, and joined her in the laughter. He kissed the vale between her breasts.

"I think we need a shower."

“Definitely. We don't want to be sticky, “ Vera nodded. "Come." She got up from the couch, took his hand, and led him upstairs, to her big bathroom with an enormous bathtub.

„Of course,“ Hamish muttered with amusement. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

"Well, I like my comfort," she shrugged, and bent over the rim of the tub to turn the water on. Hamish felt himself twitch again at the sight of her beautifully shaped ass. Again, he couldn't help himself. He let his fingers travel lightly along her spine and over her butt. Then he lifted her and put her into the tub.

"Impatient, are we?" Said Vera with the tiniest of smiles.

"You are the one who will be profitting from it," Hamish answered, and pushed her to the corner of the tub, where she could sit. She watched him, intrigued. The man kneeled in the water, and pulled her legs apart. Vera felt her breath quickening already, and when he attacked her mound with his tongue and fingers again, she literally saw stars. If she expected something from their… painting job today, it was quick sex, at most. But of course, this was Hamish Duke, the most extraordinary man she ever met in her whole life. She should've known it won’t be just fucking. Not now, not ever.

Soon, her moans and grunts and "there, yes, like that, yes," filled the bathroom. After a while, when she was already close, Hamish's mouth left her pussy, and she felt a flash of anger, but then he brought their foreheads together and instead of his tongue, he pressed his thumb against her clit - and it gifted her with another orgasm, way more bigger than the first one. He didn't stop, though, and another huge wave soon ripped through her.

Hamish was watching her as she was slowly coming from heights back to him, and wondered if he would ever get enough of this sight. His boss‘ cheeks were tinted from the arousal, blue eyes were staring nowhere, and her legs were slightly shaking. God, he wanted to be inside her so badly… He quickly pulled her down to him, as she was still supple, leaned her against hir chest, and soaped her body.

Vera let him to do to whatever he wanted to her. She felt like she was under some spell. Maybe he was some kind of a magic practitioner, because she never felt like this around any man. But again, Hamish was different than all the men she met. So when he rinsed the soap from her, pulled her out of the tub and wrapped her in a bathrobe, she found his face with her hands.

"I want you," she whispered, lips pressed against his ear. And Hamish, being Hamish, bowed a little. For some reason, it turned her on even more than she already was, because who wouldn’t be after three amazing orgasms? They went to her bedroom together.

This time, both of them wanted it to be slow. Hamish was covering her whole body with kisses, Vera was caressing his torso. "Now," she whispered after a few minutes, or maybe hours?, but he already knew. Slowly, tenderly, his slid his member into her wet, silky, hot entrance, stayed still for a while, and then they moved simultaneously. Like they were made for each other, no matter how much it sounded like a cliché.

Even though Vera had never believed in such staged movie bullshit, they found their release together. When her walls started clenching around him a little, Hamish took one of her insanely long legs, and put it on his shoulder, so he could go deeper. Vera threw her head back, and in the very moment when her fourth orgasm of the day hit her and she came with his name on her lips, she felt Hamish spill himself deep into her, whispering "Vera“ several times over.

Hamish slid out from her, fell on his back, and Vera laid her head on his shoulder. She was completely worn out and her core and thighs ached, but it was the most beautiful kind of pain.

“Am I good? Painter? ”Hamish asked, still little out of breath, and Vera couldn��t supress a giggle.

"The best," she answered, and placed a tiny kiss on his chin. "We both are. We should quit being advocates and start a painting company. "

"Speaking of being advocates, how am I supposed to work with you now? Not happening. "

"Well, I can always shift you to someone else."

Hamish dragged his nails down her arm. "Also not happening."

"Thought so," Vera smirked. "I have to clean up the mess downstairs," she sighed after a while.

“Let it be for now. I will come tomorrow to help, “offered Hamish. Vera propped herself on one elbow and stared at his face.

"What?" He asked, clearly confused. "Did I say something wrong?"

Vera slowly shook her head. "No. I just… Stay the night." She didn’t exactly believe herself, because she never let anyone stay with her, no matter if it was after fucking or not. But when Hamish’s smile grew wider, she knew she made the right choice.

"As you wish, Grand Magus,“ he said, laughed when she again rolled eyes on him, and sat up, but just to pull the blanket over them. Vera hesitated for a heartbeat, but then just decided to give up and snuggled against him. Hamish dropped a kiss on her hair and protectively put his arm around her stomach.

It was the first night in ages without a single nightmare for her.

#fanfiction #vera stone #hamish duke #vera/hamish #vermish #theorder #alternateuniverse #smut #fluff #OOC #I really don't know how to write a proper fanfic in English

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shijiujun · 5 years

Text

[ENG] History3: Trapped Novel - Epilogue Two: “And After, Jack & Zhao Zi”

~2,500 words

*Warnings for this chapter: SMUT AHEAD. Okay I think I’ve said a lot regarding the ridiculous-ness of this chapter, but honestly, I wouldn’t recommend reading this chapter AT ALL. Zhao Zi and Shao Fei are a little OOC in this one I feel, and there are so many logical loopholes. It starts off well and we get some Jack backstory which is quite nice, but then it all goes downhill from there. There’s the who tops who bottoms discourse, and there’s kind of.. questionable consent? Not exactly dub-con but ZZ is drunk as hell. And the sex scene is NOT written well, but I mean to be fair not every writer can write smut, including me. Translation is even worse I’m so sorry. You’ll know what I mean if you read it but I hope you don’t read this, in case anyone needed the warnings. Comments?

===

Translation Masterpost can be found here

Disclaimer: Translations are entirely mine and Wei’s - these are not official translations and some phrases have been changed for better English interpretation so you’ll definitely see better/different translations elsewhere. Also keeping in mind when we translated this we aren’t exactly thinking about the style of writing and this translation is as close to the novel as we can make it XD So yes, some parts may be a little awkward to read. And yes some teeny weeny details and words may not turn up in the translation because the Chi to Eng mind acrobatics didn’t work out. If you see asterisks, scroll all the way to the bottom for notes!

Full chapter under the cut

Epilogue Two: “And After, Jack & Zhao Zi”

Jack is lying on the couch, waiting for his lover who hasn’t returned home even though it’s so late after 10pm. However, Jack is also accustomed to waiting up for Zhao Zi.

In the army, the strict regimen of training gave him unimaginable skills. Put nicely, it was to protect the country and its citizens, but put in perspective, he was simply a killing machine trained for a long time under the army. Under his commander’s order he had to kill, the only difference is that when you do it in the name of your country, it’s not considered illegal, but in the end, he was still a machine that simply listened to orders. To live or to die, to be valued or cast aside, this was all dependent on your superiors, and you also had to watch out for what they thought of you.

“How boring,” the man lying on the couch remarked, thinking about his past.

Since he was going to kill anyway, why not let him choose his target? And that was how he left the army and chose the high-risk career path of a mercenary, to be hired by a buyer at high prices, and time after time in each battle, he escaped the grim reaper’s axe.

Jack closes his eyes, breathing in the air in the house.

In the past, the air that he breathed was filled with either smoke and sulphur or the coppery tang of blood leaving a body. Now, around him all he smells is the aroma of food.

Unconsciously, Jack slips into sleep and a dream, but is forced to revisit his past. In his dreams he hears the sound of a bullet being fired from a gun, hears the loud explosions echo, hears the signs of people, one after another, falling and never getting up, hears the sound of blood gushing from a gunshot wound. Just as he thought that he could escape and finally be free.

I really want a place that I can return to, he sighs.

===

Although the sound of the key entering the keyhole and the main door opening is very soft, Jack, an ex-mercenary who is used to being on high alert always, still startles.

Jack’s eyes snap open suddenly, and he looks at his surroundings in a mixture of fear and wariness, until he’s sure that he’s lying on the couch in the living room. Only then does he straighten, his entire back drenched in cold sweat.

“Hehe, you’re not asleep yet?”

The smell of alcohol is strong on Zhao Zi, and holding onto his noisily clinking set of keys, he laughs and looks at his lover, who often waits on the couch for him to come back.

“You had to put in overtime again?”

Zhao Zi’s nose scrunches up as he shakes his head, “No, I went out for drinks with Ah Fei and Jun Wei.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Hnn, I did.”

Zhao Zi removes his shoes and moves over to sit right next to Jack, then leans his entire body against the man’s shoulder. He adjusts himself until he’s most comfortable.

“Liang Dian, hehe, Fang Liang Dian is so huge.”

Only at this time, acting all cute would Zhao Zi call him by his birth name. Zhao Zi happily reaches out to caress Jack's abdominal muscles.

“Hey! You really have some fetish for this huh?” Jack does not know whether to laugh or cry as he says this, and even though he doesn’t mind being sexually harassed in various forms by the shorty, it feels a little different tonight for some reason.

Why is Zhao Zi’s hand starting to move towards that somewhere?*

Zhao Zi swallows and looks at the area that is beginning to have some reaction with his touch, “It’s hard, huge… and a little hot.”**

“Shorty, are you intending to call in sick to work tomorrow?”

Since Zhao Zi has lit a flame in his body, then he must be mentally prepared to douse the flames out, all night long.

“I want to eat you up!”

Zhao Zi suddenly throws himself towards Jack and Jack, who is unable to react in time, ends up lying on his back on the soft couch.

“Huh?”

Jack looks at his lover, whose face is filled with determination, and allows Zhao Zi to pull up his loose shirt, lie on his chest and begin to lick and suck at his nipples.

The pants coming from Jack makes the person who took the initiative to attack him very satisfied, and so Zhao Zi continues to slide down Jack’s body, kissing Jack’s abdomen, and then he pulls down Jack’s shorts to reveal an already hard member.

“Hey, you can’t really want to top me, right?”

“Hmph!” Zhao Zi immediately glares at Jack, who is sitting up to get a better look at him.

Zhao Zi seems very unhappy that Jack seems to be doubting him. “I’m a guy too, if you can top me, then of course I can top you. What about it? You’re looking down on me, is that it?”***

It’s all Ah Fei’s fault! Earlier when they were drinking, he suddenly grabbed him and asked if Zhao Zi was still a virgin, and in the end in a fit of anger he retorted, “Who the hell’s a virgin, I’ve already done it with Jack!”

Shao Fei only went ‘oh’, and continued, “You may have grown behind, but in the front it’s as if you’re still single.”****

The drunk person holding and teasing the hard member in his hands suddenly starts crying, scaring Jack to the point of falling on his back again on the couch.

“Shorty, what’s up with you?”

Zhao Zi points at his similarly hard member and very loudly says, “Ah Fei says that even if I’ve done it with you, it’s only in the back that I’m not a virgin, but in the front it’s as if I’m still single and a virgin!”

“Pftt…. Hahahahaha!”

Hearing this, Jack can no longer control himself and starts to laugh, hugging his abdomen. Geez, what do these guys usually talk about? What a mess! Jack sighs, thinking about his ex-boss, who’s faced with such an unpredictable lover.

Tang Yi, you’ve got a tough life ahead of you.

Hold on a second! It seems that Jack himself didn’t get any luckier in his choice of partner, if he had to identify someone who was ever more ridiculous than Officer Meng, wouldn’t it exactly be the Zhao Zi kneeling right in front of him right now, the Zhao Zi who wants to ‘top’ him?

Suddenly struck with reality, Jack looks at his shorty with a frown. An opportunity for a prank flashes through his head then.

“Shorty, you really want to ‘pop your cherry’ for your ‘front’ as well?”*****

“Hmph, of course!” Zhao Zi burps, side eyeing Jack.

Jack raises an eyebrow and reaches for Zhao Zi’s chin, and with a strange smile he says, “Okay, I’ll let you ‘hug’ me!”

“Really? I can really eat you up?”

Zhao Zi swallows with excitement, and all that surfaces in his head is the image of this handsome and tall man being on the receiving end.

“Really, but…” Jack squints at Zhao Zi, and pretends to be very embarrassed as he continues, “Once you’ve eaten me, you have to be responsible to me for life.”

“Of course!”

The young officer proudly puffs out his flat chest, and although he does not have any hard and firm pecs, he’s definitely a man of his word, and he will be responsible towards his food…

Eh, that’s not right…

It’s being responsible to his own ‘man’ for the rest of their lives, he definitely will.

In the room

“Jack… hold on… Jack…. Jack...”

Inside the room, illuminated by only a single light, moans and harsh panting echo.

“What’s wrong?”

Jack knows exactly what’s wrong but still asks, holding onto his lover’s waist, and continuing what he was doing earlier.

Zhao Zi, as he pants, asks suspiciously, “Seems like… hah… hah… seems like something is a little… a little wrong.”

“Which part is wrong? Didn’t you want to top me?”

“Yeah.. earlier, earlier… we agreed… That I would… hah… that I would top you…”

“Shorty, aren’t you on top of me right now?”

“Hnn… nnn… yeah… yeah… ah…”

“Then that’s correct, I’ll continue to let you ‘top’ me then!”

What a cunning smile, as Jack says things that make his face flame.

“Okay… okay…. I, I’ll continue… continue to top you… if it hurts… ha-ah… you have to tell me…”

Zhao Zi imitates the way Jack is always so considerate of his feelings when they’re having sex, and repeats these reminders to Jack. Right now, if someone took out a magical mirror and put it in front of Jack, they would surely be able to see the fox tail behind him swinging from side to side.

“Okay!”

Jack, whose scheming plan succeeded, continues to embrace the shorty he loves so much, eating the drunk police officer so clean he doesn’t even leave any bones behind.

“Ah-”

Jack inserts his hard member upwards into Zhao Zi’s opening, and because of the way that Zhao Zi is sitting across Jack’s laps, the depth at which he penetrates Zhao Zi is even greater than usual. Every thrust accurately hits Zhao Zi’s prostate, and with each thrust, Zhao Zi finds it increasingly difficult to stop himself from making any sounds. Passionate moans sound in the room that belongs solely to them both.

“Ah- Jack… It feels so good… so good… Jack…”

“Me too,” Jack says through gritted teeth, enjoying the sensation of his cock being squeezed in a vice with satisfaction, “It feels very good for me too.”

“Then I’ll… Then I’ll continue… to top you…”******

Zhao Zi repeats the movement that Jack taught him previously. Every time he moves up he squeezes his muscles and tightens up, while relaxing every time he sits back down on Jack’s member.

“Oh god- Shorty you… you… ah...ah…”

Even though it was him who taught Zhao Zi all these tricks in bed, Jack forgot just how much Zhao Zi affects him. Usually, Jack already gets so excited when Zhao Zi responds to him without doing anything special, not to mention a Zhao Zi actually putting everything he knows to good use right now - Zhao Zi is completely messing up his rhythm.

“Ah-hah, Jack… Does this… feel… good?”

“Damn it!” the man who’s quickly losing control curses.

This is no longer an issue of whether it feels good, but a matter of him reaping what he sowed as he’s getting just what he asked for.

Oh god! It’s so tight there!

Cumming prematurely is the greatest blow to a man’s pride, well, that’s alright, it looks like his pride is quickly, almost…

“Ah- hah-”

Jack thrusts upwards into Zhao Zi with all the strength he has, then releases into his lover’s body.

Zhao Zi looks at the man lying and panting on the bed, and a satisfied smile tugs at his lips.

“Hehe, you actually came earlier than me,”

Wow, so the one who’s in charge of ‘topping’ the other does last longer! Every time they had sex before this it was always Zhao Zi who came first, and who expected that he could see Jack’s expression like this, post-orgasm?

Zhao Zi looks at his lover’s face, and makes a weird sound.

“What’re you looking at?” Jack glares at the man who’s sitting on him, pissed off.

“Jack…. What should I do?”

“What is it?”

“I think I…” Zhao Zi says honestly, “I’ve fallen more in love with you.”

Every time he sees an expression on Jack that he’s never seen before, he finds himself falling in love with Jack again. Is this normal? Or is it abnormal?

After receiving a confession so suddenly, Jack smiles and asks, “The next time you drink again, I’ll let you ‘top’ me, okay?”

“Okay!” Zhao Zi nods furiously.

“Just now you ate me, so now, it’s my turn to eat you.”

“Huh? What-”

Zhao Zi is abruptly flung and pressed into the bed with a pull across the back of his waist. His hole, which has turned red and swollen with all the friction, is still filled with Jack’s cock as the man refuses to withdraw.

“Wait a second!”

Didn’t they agree to let him be on top for the whole night? Why is he once again pressed to the bed by Jack?

“Didn’t you say that we have to be fair? I let you ‘top’ me once earlier, and now it’s my turn to ‘top’ you once too, this is what we call fair, right?”

“Nnn…”

In his dizzy state Zhao Zi has the niggling feeling that something isn’t quite right, but he can’t think of how to respond to Jack’s statement either, so all he can do is nod in agreement and acquiesce.

“You’re not wrong, so okay! Since you let me ‘top’ and made me feel so good earlier, I’ll let you ‘top’ me once too, but I’ve got to work tomorrow, so we can only do this once, and no additional rounds.”

“Okay,” Jack grins delighted.

Zhao Zi secretly sticks out his tongue at Jack in his mind. Lucky for him, Zhao Zi smartly voiced out his conditions first, otherwise Jack’s stamina is really equivalent to that of a monster’s and if Zhao Zi let him do as he likes, he won’t get to see the sun tomorrow, instead sleeping until it’s time to eat dinner the next day.

And so with Jack’s member, which has hardened again, they continue onto their second round. Of course, Jack keeps his promise to do Zhao Zi only one more time, and then holds onto an exhausted shorty, slipping into sleep with happiness.

===

The next morning, Zhao Zi wakes up under his alarm’s incessant ringing. He brushes his teeth and washes his face, then rubs at his bleary eyes out of habit as he walks down the stairs.

“Good morning!” Jack, who’s busy preparing breakfast in the kitchen, turns around to look at the shorty who’s just woken up and greets.

“Good… good morning…”

Zhao Zi smiles happily and sits at the table by the window, waiting for Jack’s breakfast made with love, a few minutes later, his handsome lover brings over freshly made sandwiches and juice, sitting opposite him.

“Does it taste good?”

“It’s delicious, ah!” Zhao Zi exclaims suddenly, recalling what happened last night.

The tip of his ears turn red, and Zhao Zi grabs onto Jack’s hand. He says, serious, “Don’t worry, I’ll be responsible for you for life.”

“...”

Jack is unable to react immediately, so he just stares at Zhao Zi, dumbfounded. Then he laughs.

“Hey! I’m being serious here, what are you laughing for?”

Jack shakes his head and resists the urge to laugh even more. He deliberately bites at his lower lip and replies, “Then please be responsible for me, for life, okay?”

“Nnn! No problem, I promise!”

Zhao Zi pats at his chest, which has remained flat no matter how he tried to exercise it, and makes a promise to the one he loves.

===

Notes:

*This is exactly how it’s written, word for word translation, I KID U NOT

**I have facepalmed

***Once again WHEN CAN WE STOP WITH THIS DISCOURSE OF TOPPING = AFFIRMATION OF MASCULINITY/IDENTITY

****Honestly, I cannot imagine Shao Fei saying this

*****I would like to cry, and not happily

******Wow guys I only realized that Zhao Zi was duped today, like TODAY, six months after I got the novel. I’m a bit mind blown. To be fair I didn’t dare read through the whole thing in my first few reads, but omg, Zhao Zi you are so easily duped. This is such a questionable scene?! But also towards the end my brain just kind of switched off and I’m translating so mechanically like I’m praying my brain doesn’t process any of the words. I’m sorry, I REALLY TRIED. Once again, I hope you didn’t read this, and if you made it all the way down here... if you liked it, cools, if you didn’t, you can cry with me in the comments.

#history 3: trapped #history3: trapped #history3圈套 #history 3: 圈套 #history3 novel #epilogue 2 guys #translation #sort of dub con?#questionable consent?#zz is drunk in this #would not recommend to read if this severely offends you

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vierafication · 4 years

Text

Last night around 4 am, I reblogged a certain post about "villainous rp" and added my own two cents to what had been discussed within it- mostly just venting about behavior I'd seen in the past. I didn't think much of it until I saw the next day it had been reblogged, and reblogged again, and again, by some folks who seemed pretty unhappy about what I'd said. I was told I needed to get a life, that I clearly can't separate IC and OOC, that maybe I shouldn't be writing at all. That hurt. I was irritated, then, feeling like I'd had words shoved in my mouth, like I was being purposefully misinterpreted. I typed up a clarification post explaining my previous points and pressed send, but it was seemingly ignored.

I talked with @damankjol about it later. He's the best, if you didn't know. And he rp's villains! I don't think he's a sociopath! He's very empathic and honest and understanding and cool, and he helped me realize that people weren't just angry at me, they were genuinely hurt by what I'd written. I went back and reread what I posted, as well as the responses, with a more critical eye. And... yeah. What I typed up wasn't clean, organized, or coordinated. I was venting and the tone that came off was irritated and rude. While not my intention, what I wrote sounded pretty fucking disrespectful and downright mean. And, frankly, my intentions don't matter, anyway, since I wasn't able to convey them properly. I just put some angry bullshit up on tumblr way too late at night, and I didn't expect anybody to even look at it, let alone reblog it- but I should have. Tumblr is a public platform and I should have approached my post the same way I'd approach any other one during the normal hours of the day. Thinking critically is always key, but audience is too- a vent post is a vent post, but I should have thought before I vented about a topic other people were sensitive to, and properly indicate specifics instead of vague generalizations. So, yes, I really wanted to apologize to anyone who that post hurt. I’m genuinely sorry. I should not have generalized like that. It wasn't even my intention in the first place. I was disrespectful and now that I think about it, incredibly hypocritical to boot. So yeah. I really am sorry. I respect @damankjol and @miqojak a lot as writers, and it would never be my intention to tear them down. Or anybody else, for that matter- rp only works when you rp with others, after all.

Once again, I'm sorry, and I hope you won't hate me for eternity or anything. Storytime and critical analysis under the cut.

One of my first, and worst, experiences in the ffxiv rp community was a good couple years ago. I was describing my character to a “friend,” and that character happened to be Lionnet Blodoint, my Ishgardian chirurgeon. Lionnet was not a good person by a long shot, to begin with, and from his time serving during the Dragonsong War, he’d developed quite a bit of PTSD relating to any and all things draconic. He hated dragons. He didn’t even like Au Ra. “Wow,” said the so-called friend at the time. “Your character is a nazi.”

“What? No!” I exclaimed. I tried to explain that he was NOT a nazi, he was just a traditionalist Ishgardian who hated dragons because they had been, at one point in time, absolutely hell-bent on destroying his home and everything he knew. I thought it was a pretty reasonable character trait to hate, or at least fear, dragons after serving in the Dragonsong War. The core of how I’d planned to develop him would be overcoming or at least coming to terms with his trauma, and no longer seeing it in every dragon or Au Ra he met. “No,” they said. “Your character is terribly written. They’re awful and nobody would ever want to rp with them. They’re boring because they’re so full of negative traits. They’re racist and thus, a nazi. And you are just as bad, because you’re defending them! You’re a nazi too!”

So yeah, they are NOT my friend anymore. But that whole convo really stuck with me, and I was afraid to bring out Lio afterwards- it took me another year before I actually began to use him in rp. And he turned out wonderful! His story became one of my favorite rp character stories of all time, and he had great relationship development and a happy ending. He’s still around, canonically, but I have a different main toon now.

So it shocks me that what that person told me about Lio is more or less the same as what I wrote in that post. I’m honestly dumbfounded at how I could just casually type that up and post it, when it draws so many parallels to the way I was bullied back then. So yeah. Huge hypocrisy right there. I swore to never act like that. And to an extent, I suppose I have. But that post I made was pretty fucking close- just directed at a vaguely generalized audience instead of a singular person and character. Maybe that’s actually worse. And I am sorry. I guess because it wasn’t directed at anyone but the void (even the op’s url doesn’t exist anymore), I just didn’t think about it. Which sounds like a lame-ass excuse, but... it’s true. I just wasn’t thinking. I was just venting. It’s really fucking with me that I could’ve hurt somebody so much completely unintentionally, to be honest.

So, what did I say- or, to be more clear, what was I attempting to say? What was my intention, and what wasn’t? I’m going to go over that now, more for my benefit than anyone else’s. Please note that I am not trying to make excuses or shove any blame elsewhere. I am just trying to clarify what I meant and address the issues that made my post so negative, for my own sake.

To begin, I’m gonna link this post by @lilac-memorials. It goes into detail about the trouble with “villain” discourse, and addresses a number of issues from a much more unbiased standpoint, far more eloquently than I could. Also, it seems to reference (the worse) parts of my posts at some points, or maybe I’m just paranoid. Regardless, it’s a much better post than the trainwreck that was the original one, and I agree with every bit of it. It also addresses the difference between a “villain” and an “antagonist,” which is something I attempted to go into but failed miserably.

Anyhoo. My post began with this paragraph:

Seriously. I do not trust anyone who refers to themselves as a “villain” rper. A character can take an antagonistic role in another character’s story arc, that’s fine, that works. It goes back to the “everyone is the hero of their own story” sorta thing. But playing a villain, only as a villain… what’s the point in that? It’s just someone roleplaying as an evil asshole that expects to be treated as stronger than other characters, expects to be feared. It reads like some twisted power fantasy. It doesn’t sound fun and it sure isn’t fun for the people rping with you. Like dude, calm down.

To begin with, yes, I am indeed a little distrustful of people who label their characters first and foremost as villains, before anything else. I am more suspicious of engaging in rp with them than I am with other types of characters, because I have seen some pretty crappy villains out and about and I just don’t wanna deal with that. Next, I go on to try to draw the line between a villain and an antagonist, and how I am much less suspicious of “antagonistic” characters than straight-up “villain” characters. “But playing a villain, only as a villain... what’s the point in that?” I ask. Very rudely. Insinuating that their is no point whatsoever in playing a villain. Which I didn’t intend to. But honestly, I don’t know how else that would’ve translated- I don’t know what I was thinking. I go on to describe this “villain” as somebody who is an evil asshole with a power fantasy, and how it ruins fun for anybody. Which can be read very easily as saying “all villains are like this.” No, they are not! I was describing the bad type of villain rper. The rper who “plays a villain, only as a villain,” and not as a character. Do you get what I mean now? The controlling, toxic, power-hungry rper that plays a villain as an outlet to be further controlling, toxic, and power-hungry, moreso than they ever could in reality. We all know that type of person exists. We’ve met them, somewhere. Sometimes they aren’t playing the villain at all, anyway. They’re playing the hero, or somebody else entirely. But here, I am just venting about that type of person. They are what my post is about. The key line should’ve been “playing a villain, only as a villain,” but it was shoved into a passive-aggressive question addressing self-worth instead of a proper sentence describing the difference between a well-written villain and a badly-written villain. And thus the post begins as if it had been rudely addressed to all villain rpers everywhere, labeling them as the evil asshole with a power fantasy, instead.

Next is: Anyway hot take but maybe the reason people kept trying to “redeem” and “change” OP’s character is because their character is boring af!

Yeahhhh, that one’s just mean. And, given the first paragraph, easily able to seen as an attack saying that if you are a villain rper, your character is boring af. They’re not! The op’s post is a little much, to be honest, and I guess I thought I was feeling spicy at 4 am. Now I think I must’ve just been being mean. Aurelia explains what’s wrong with the initial post here, though, instead of trying and failing to poke fun at it in that special pseudo-mean tumblr way like I did.

Lastly, Like, honestly! Play a character as a foil to another, play to fucked up ideas about morality, play an antagonist arc to a protagonist character, play a character who makes bad decisions. But don’t play a “villain.” Don’t play a character whose core personality traits are simply being cruel/evil. Don’t play a character whose sole focus is to kill npcs, be scary, and lord over other players’ characters. Don’t play a character who never develops or changes, and doesn’t facilitate change in other characters. Just don’t be an asshole edgelord. Don’t be flat and one dimensional. Don’t use rp to live out your fucked up power fantasy. Get therapy instead.

Honestly, I think this is the most clear part of my entire post, and also the worst, at the end there. I just am listing off behaviors that this figurative “bad villain rper” exhibits, and what offsets them. Play a villain that’s complex, had depth, nuance! I’m saying don’t play the “villain,” and then listing off what this specific hypothetical villain is. The opposite of deep and nuanced. The “bad villain rper” type the whole post is a vent about.

Then comes the dreaded “ Don’t use rp to live out your fucked up power fantasy. Get therapy instead. “ The villainous power fantasy. No, I do not think everyone who rp’s villains is like this. Yes, I believe there are people like this, who are INCREDIBLY few and far between, and if they solely use rp as an outlet to harass others both ICly and OOCly, that is bad! And maybe they should get help! And even, then, that was only half-serious! But therapy is a serious subject and I should have known better, and done better. Did all of that come off as intended? Hell no! Instead, it was the final nail in the coffin.

So! That’s what I was trying to say. Badly-written villains are a pain. If I had written up a post like I am now, with this long-ass thing, actually trying to be eloquent and clear. Not 4 am word vomit. This 4 am word vomit instead has gotten me to be read and interpreted as:

-being completely unable to separate character and player to the point where i think every villain’s player is a Real Life Bad Person and/or needs mental help

-saying all villains are boring because they’re not heroes, and thus are incapable of being complex and nuanced

-saying people who play dark/antagonistic characters are, in general, living out their fucked up power fantasy through them

-thinking that villainous characters are incredibly boring and just plain terrible

No! None of that is what I think! Absolutely none! I’m not going to go in and refute each of those claims, because, like I said, I’m not trying to make excuses here. But I WILL end this thing with what I do think of villainous characters and their players:

They’re fucking great, okay? A good story is made a gazillion times better by having a good villain in it, be the story a book, a movie, or an rp scenario. Well-written villain rpers are a TREASURE, and need to be appreciated! It is often harder to find rp with antagonistic toons, to begin with, and their players may find themselves getting shit on more often than others, which should absolutely not be the case. Characters that are complex and deep and nuanced are great no matter what their alignment is.

There ARE some pretty shitty villain rpers out there, too. And, in my own personal experience, they tend to be much more obnoxious than shitty hero rpers. A badly written hero will ruin a villain’s rp. A badly written villain may well try to ruin everybody around them’s rp.

Badly written villains suck. They’re the worst. And they make things worse for those that dedicate a lot of time and effort to crafting complex and cleverly written, compelling villains! Badly written villains are something I can and will complain about, just as well-written villains are something that I can and will praise. But I’ll try not to complain or vent on this platform anymore, to start.

And I do NOT blend IC and OOC. That’s the rper’s taboo! I will critique others who do it, though, which ironically is what I was sort of trying to do- complain about those specific villain players who do that. But anyway. If you’ve read this far, good for you! This has been way too long.

And. Please. If I do say or do something that hurts you in the future, regardless of what type of post it is, talk to me! Tell me what’s up! Thank you!

#THIS IS A LONG ASS POST U HAVE BEEN WARNED #u dont need to read all of the rest if u dont want to #in fact u dont need to read it at all if u don't know what post im referring to anyway

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spideyyverse · 7 years

Text

Grease! AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4

Chapter: 4/7

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Stan Uris, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Audra Phillips

Pairings: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly, Madura (Audra x Mike)

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing, underage drinking and smoking

Word Count: 1,986

Author Notes: Chapters will be based on a song from the movie, I’m not sure I’ll do each song but if there’s a specific song you would like me to include, let me know in my ask box!

Also, the losers are very ooc. I understand they’re nothing like the way I’m portraying them in my story. Please do not get angry for the way I’m writing them, it’s solely apart of this au and this is not how I actually view them.

MAJOR NOTE: I’m so so sorry it’s taken me weeks to update, I recently just returned to school and things have been hectic. I’ll try my best to write more frequently but updates may be slow. I haven’t been too active on my account recently, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be better. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Tags: @universal-gay

This song was featured during the school dance scene. The original singer is Frank Sinatra but the band covered it.

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Blue moon You saw me standing alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own

Eddie--Nor Richie-- didn’t intend for anything to happen that summer leading up to now. It wasn’t like Eddie wanted to visit Derry in the first place, but the constant “Eddie Bear you need to visit!” and “Your aunties miss you!” from his aunts irritated him to the point where he booked the flights to Derry himself. After a long and extremely worded lecture (and a lot of yelling) from Sonia Kaspbrak, both of them set off on a summer that would change everything.

Now don’t get Eddie wrong, he loved his aunts to death (and would much rather live with them than that momster), but he couldn’t take an entire summer of endless cheek pinches and sloppy kisses on the cheek. He knew he had to make the most of his time so he may as well explore the town--Not that there’s was much to explore anyway.

It wasn’t until he found himself walking through a forest that lead him to a quarry. He found himself not staring at the summer day in front of him, not the way water sparkled nor the way the soft summer breeze blew every now and then. No, he found himself staring the boy in front of him. He didn’t understand why, he only knew what the back of the boy looked liked. For all Eddie could know, this boy could be a serial killer. Maybe he was surprised that someone was here, someone was in this dead beat town.

After an awkward greeting--well mainly awkward for Eddie, Richie didn’t seem to ever stop talking once he uttered a noise--Eddie found himself falling easily for a boy he’d only known for what? An hour? Or could it have been six? Richie truly didn’t know when to stop talking, but Eddie loved it.

It was a shock to Eddie that Richie had a loud personality. He’s never one to judge so quickly but Eddie found the boy sitting by himself, listening to Africa by Toto, while smoking. He seemed like a loner.

“Says Eds, tell me something,” Richie spoke slightly lowering the radio.

“Yeah?” Eddie looked up, “Also, stop calling me Eds,” He quickly added.

“Cute! Cute! Cute!” Richie leaned over and pinched his cheeks, “Ever been in love?”

Eddie practically choked on air but it did get him thinking, has he ever been in love? Sure he’s had a couple of boys here and there, some relationships lasting longer than others, but he’s never actually been in love. Maybe some feelings towards his previous boyfriends had been stronger than others but nothing to ever consider being in love. Love was almost foreign to him.

“No,” Eddie broke the silence but continued, “My turn to ask you a question!”

“Hit me with it spageds,” Richie chuckled, taking a puff from his cigarette.

“Spageds? That’s the best you can do?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

Eddie took a deep breath but bit back a smile anyways, “As someone who’s only been visiting for two days, do you ever think about leaving this town? I mean, there’s nothing here.” Eddie looked around the quarry.

“No.” Richie simply replied.

“No?”

“I’ve never thought about it. Not until now anyways,” Eddie patiently waited for Richie to continue, “I’ve never thought about it because I didn’t need to. I’ve never had anything to run towards but now, today in this very moment, I know where I need to run to,”

“Where?”

“You.”

Blue moon You knew just what I was there for You heard me saying a prayer for Someone I really could care for

It was finally the day of the dance. Most high schools would get into the spirit, hanging posters and the constant PA reminders that ticket sales go up every week. However, Derry high had been nominated by a TV station to host a dance competition during the event. Eddie didn’t pay much attention to the eagerness from everyone at school, it was something about the two winners getting a pretty big money prize. But in all honesty, Eddie could care less. He was more worried about being outed to the entire school--and on national television to make matters worse.

Eddie was not--and will never--be ashamed for being gay. Richie neither will ever be ashamed to be bisexual but living in a conservative town where almost everyone will absolutely shit on you for being anything less than straight can be alarming--to say the least.

As much as both boys wanted to hold onto each other and dance together just like every other straight couple, it just wasn’t possible.

Both boys walked into the gym, their entire ensemble of the Pink Ladies and T-Birds following right behind them.

“Says Eds, how about I get us some punch?” Richie awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“As long as you don’t spike it Tozier,”

Richie smirked, “Can’t make any promises my love!” He walked away with a wink, giving Eddie the familiar feeling of butterflies in his tummy.

“Everything all right Bev?” Ben asked. Bev sticked out like a sore thumb, a hair wrap was around her head. Whatever she was trying to hide, wasn’t subtle at all.

“Peachy Benjamin,”

“Bev?” Eddie slowly asked.

“Eddie I’m fine! Everything is alright!” Bev tried to reassure the boys but failed. Bev ended up stomping away to the bathroom with a poor Ben following behind in her in hopes to cheer her up.

Eddie went ahead and found a table large enough to hold the nine leaving the remaining four at the entrance of the dance.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the group.

While Audra and Mike were a happy couple, that still didn’t stop them from being racially discriminated against. It took Mike ages to convince his parents to let him go to public school once homeschooling for middle school ended. He didn’t realize exactly why his parents didn’t want him going to public school once he experienced how cruel kids can be. Being in the T-Birds gave him a place, but he still felt he could be much more than this.

Audra was Mexican (A/N: There’s not enough latinx representation nowadays so I’m making Audra Mexican-American. Also ya girl is Mexican so this is me trying to live through my stories.), both of her parents were immigrants, but Audra herself was born in America but being the daughter of the only two Mexicans living in an almost-all white conservative town was more than difficult.

Being something other than white or straight instantly made you a bad person. No one could look past your skin color or your sexuality, they define you because of that. They don’t define you because of who you are.

While Audra and Mike got nasty and dirty looks from practically the entire gym, they pushed it to aside and let themselves be together.

This wasn’t the case for Stan and Bill.

While most of the school suspected Stan liked boys, they couldn’t think the same for Bill. It was one thing to suspect but to completely out someone is another thing.

Stan was the rabbi’s son, he had to live up to expectations. If his father even heard a word about Stan being gay, it was over.

Bill was close with his parents, but he still hasn’t come out to them--thinking of the idea scares him. His little brother Georgie on the other hand, he knew. When Georgie was nine, he found a fourteen year old Bill crying in the middle of the night. After a long talk and explanation of what being pansexual meant, Georgie was quick to accept him. Now being twelve, Georgie still loved his older brother with everything inside of him.

Despite the rabbi’s son, Stan himself was never religious. Sure, he attended every ceremony at the temple and even read from the torah at his bar mitzfah, but he was required to do that. Stan wasn’t religious, but if there was just one thing he could pray for, he would pray for Bill. He would pray to find happiness with Bill.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Henry and his gang smirking at them. Bill seemed to notice this because he quickly made his way over to the table.

If a prayer truly worked, Stan was praying for a miracle.

And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will hold I heard somebody whisper please adore me And when I looked to the moon it turned to gold

The TV crew had been setting up for the big competition, people lining up at the restrooms to fix themselves up while others began to make their way towards the dance floor.

“Hey Eds! We should join!” Richie suggested.

“Sure if you want the entire country to find out we like dick,” Eddie remarked then continued, “And stop calling me Eds!”

“Aw yeah! Spaghetti man with the dick jokes!”

“Beep beep Tozier.”

“Hey! Hey!” Richie put his hands up in defense, “You’re technically not wrong but that’s not the point. We don’t need to get up in each others ass to win the competition--I’ve already got your mom for that--the teachers will be on us if we even try. It’s disco isn’t it? We don’t need to do anything couply we just need to do something entertaining.”

“I hate the fact that you actually have a brain in that head of yours.” Eddie sighed while Richie smiled.

“What should-”

“Richie!” A voice squeaked from behind.

Richie whipped around and saw his ex girlfriend heading towards him, her arm locked around the one and only Henry Bowers.

“Greta, hi.” Richie clenched his teeth together and took a deep breath.

“Who’s this?” Eddie whispered from behind Richie.

“Hi hun, I’m Greta,” She stuck her hand out in front of Eddie the continued, “I’m sure Richie has told you how great I am in bed?” She sneered.

“He would have told me if you really were,” Eddie muttered under his breath. Both Greta and Richie heard this, Greta bit back the urge to launch herself at Eddie while Richie tried to subtly hide his laugh with a cough.

“See you in the competition Richie-kins!” She blew a kiss towards his direction and dragged Henry away.

“Richie-kins?”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen! Gather around! Our annual high school dance off is about to begin!”

Everyone gathered with their respective pair and waited until the principle stopped talking about the rules.

The principle finally walked off stage and the music began. Some couples were immediately eliminated while others tried to out-dance other couples. Some couples went for a simple attempt at the disco while others went for hand-jives.

The cameras were going around the dance floor, people tried to make their selves seen but were removed from the floor. Eddie could feel himself getting more and more nervous as the camera got closer. Richie didn’t seem to care, he was in his element. As the camera reached the two boys, Eddie instantly made a B-line for anywhere but the camera.

Richie’s face dropped, he tried to follow Eddie but was stopped when someone pushed him back. This ‘someone’ happened to be Greta herself.

“Where you doing handsome?” Greta whispered.

The pair were one of the only few standing left and it didn’t help that the host was encouraging them to dance while pointing the camera at them. Richie had no other choice but to finish the competition with a new partner. He seemed to forget about Eddie in that moment, but Eddie most certainly didn’t forget. He saw the whole ordeal go down.

Eddie ran out of the high school gym and ran all the way straight home.

#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #stan uris #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #audra phillips #the losers club #losers club #losers club grease au #reddie #reddie au

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angstmongertina · 7 years

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14. Haunted (Inktober 2017)

Before I get yelled at for not doing a horror movie or haunted house or something equally fluffy, I haven’t written anything potentially angsty since mayyyybe Honor for day 10, or before that, either Strings (day 9) or Fallen (day 5). :P

Anyway, I was replaying Yoosung’s route and talking with CherieoftheDragons about how important the different relationships V has with all of the other members of the RFA are and figured I had to write something with Yoosung in V’s route, which, like most things I write, turned out to be much longer than planned. I also haven't written Yoosung before so hopefully this isn't too OOC.

As always, features minor Jihyun/MC because of who I am as a person.

Spoilers for V’s route and his good ending!

AO3 Link || Masterpost

Formal visiting hours were drawing to a close when a nurse stopped in his room to inform them that someone was waiting outside to have a word with him.

V looked up, surprised. With the mess that was the explosion at Rika’s apartment and the canceled RFA party, as well as his corneal transplant surgery, he hadn’t been expecting any visitors other than Eunbyeol, who was already at his side and had been for as long as she was allowed to.

She turned to him, slim fingers tightening around his, but said nothing and he sighed. Between all of the excitement from last night and this morning, between his recovery and the surgery, he wasn’t particularly looking forward to another hard conversation about everything that had happened… except he owed it to the RFA, to his friends. Especially to Jumin and Seven, the two most likely visitors.

Instead, he rubbed at his eyes, wishing, admittedly rather futilely, that it would be enough for his vision to clear. “Who is it?”

Before the nurse could reply, a head poked into the room. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

He squinted, making out what seemed like blond hair matching the voice. “Yoosung?”

“Yeah.” The figure walked in hesitantly, standing a little away from the bed. “I talked to Jumin earlier and he said that you’d be getting your surgery today but it shouldn’t take too long and that I might still be able to come by. I… How are your eyes?”

He shrugged. “Not much better at the moment, but the doctors say it could take a while before my vision clears up. It shouldn’t affect my recovery time at all, at least.”

“That’s good. And… everything else?”

“Doing better. They think I might be able to be released in a few days, as long as I promise to take it easy for a while at home.”

“Everyone will be glad to hear that.”

A stilted silence, heavy and oppressive, fell across the room, broken only when Eunbyeol got to her feet. “Yoosung, it’s so nice to finally meet you in person, even if this isn’t the best circumstance. Actually, I hate to ask this of you immediately, but I need to go check on something. I’ll be back in a bit. Can you keep an eye on him please?”

“Um, sure, I guess?” He wasn’t sure if it was any consolation that Yoosung sounded almost as taken aback as he felt.

Her smile was evident in her voice. “Thanks.”

Part of him longed to stop her, but almost as though she could sense his thoughts, she paused, squeezing his hand reassuringly before exiting the room, so quietly he practically couldn’t hear her footsteps.

“Has she been here the whole time?”

“For as long as she’s been allowed to stay here. I think Jumin pulled some strings to allow her to stay overnight as well.”

“I see.” There was a short pause. “She’s beautiful.”

At that, V couldn’t help but smile. “That she is. Both inside and out.”

There was another pause before Yoosung spoke again, his voice very soft. “I always thought I’d meet her at the party, but I guess that never happened.”

His chest tightened. “Yoosung… Eunbyeol told me about what happened at the apartment. I know it doesn’t change anything but… I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Even as hazy as his vision was, he could see the golden head jerk up, could sense the blazing almost anger directed at him, in spite of the crack in Yoosung’s voice. “You didn’t have anything to do with the decision to blow up the apartment. That was all Rika’s doing.”

“I…”

“I know. It’s not what you were expecting me to say, is it?” Yoosung sighed, the sound suddenly making him seem so much older than his twenty years. “I got a phone call from Jumin around noon today. He told me… that in spite of the party being canceled, there was someone still there. Rika was still there.”

In spite of himself, he stiffened. “Rika?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how, but she must have escaped the apartment before the explosion. I guess she must have wanted us to think she blew up so we wouldn’t think to check the party… V, are you…?”

Until Yoosung’s words registered, he hadn’t realized that his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his skin. He carefully relaxed each finger, clearing his throat. “I’m fine. Go on,” he said, the words still gruffer than he intended. “What was she doing?”

“She… She had bottles of wine with her. She was so insistent that they take them, that they would bring everyone happiness. And I knew…” For a brief moment, Yoosung’s voice caught in his throat, masking a sob, and V’s heart ached for the young man who had so respected, so loved, the Rika he had known and who, in the timespan of only a few short days, had the illusion ripped so cruelly from him.

“Yoosung…”

“Don’t, please.” His voice was choked but determined. “I didn’t want to believe it at first, when Seven and Eunbyeol told us what she’d done. I thought there was a misunderstanding, that if I talked to her, I could know the truth. But then… Then I knew. She wasn’t who I thought she was. I had never really known her.”

V cleared his throat, reaching out blindingly to rest a gentle hand on Yoosung’s clenched ones. “Yoosung, you did know her. You knew the Rika who was kind and gentle and wanted to make everyone happy. Maybe that wasn’t all of her, but that was also a part of who she was, and that was the part that I wanted everyone to remember her as.” He took a deep breath, unsure if the blurriness of his vision was from his injury or from the tears that threatened to overflow. “I know now that it was wrong to try and hide everything, to try and spare everyone from the pain, and for that, I can’t apologize enough.”

For several heartbeats, the room was silent, before…

“I hated you.” The whisper cut through the room, sharp even in spite of the gasping sob it was forced around. “Even from the beginning, I thought you just stole Rika from me. And then she disappeared and you wouldn’t tell me anything other than the fact that she had committed suicide and I hated you with every fiber of my being. I thought that you had somehow killed her, when really, it was almost the other way around.” He drew a shaking breath. “I hated you and you were doing so much to protect us and I’m so sorry.”

The final apology was muffled as Yoosung buried his head in his hands, shoulder shaking with the force of his tears, and V sat up, wincing slightly as his abdomen, still sore from the trials of the past few days, protested the movement. Still, it didn’t stop him from laying a hand on Yoosung’s shoulder. “I’m to blame as much as you are. I shouldn’t have kept everything from you, or anyone else. But I’ve learned that I can’t keep thinking about what might have been. We can’t change the past, and Rika made her choice, just as we did.”

As close as he was, he could see Yoosung blink, violet eyes lost before determination settled in his gaze. “You’re right.” His chest heaved as he took a deep breath. “Thank you, V.”

“Of course.” He hesitated, his fingers squeezing Yoosung’s shoulder. “I don’t know if this will help but… She really cared about you, you know. She really did see you as a younger brother… and I know the rest of the RFA does as well. Myself included.”

He stiffened, taken entirely by surprise as thin arms wrapped around him in a fleet but strong embrace, and in spite of the pained gasp that escaped his lungs at the sudden pressure, he smiled. Nonetheless, Yoosung let him go quickly. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

“That’s all right.” V waved his hand casually, even as he sunk back against the pillows. “Though I’m afraid that that might be enough excitement for today…”

“Of course!” Yoosung leapt to his feet, and he couldn’t help but smile at his responsiveness. “It’s getting late as it is. I’ll go find Eunbyeol and tell her that everything went well.”

He chuckled softly. “I’m sure she’ll be relieved.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t need to see Yoosung’s face to hear his grin. “I’m sure she will be.” Soft shuffling met his ears before, from the doorway, he paused. “Oh, and V? Thank you. For everything.”

#V's route #V's route spoilers #V route #Jihyun Kim #Mystic Messenger #MysMes #Tina writes stuff.#Tina plays MysMes.#my sun my stars #Yoosung Kim #Tina's Writer Inktober

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cora-theprincessofhearts · 7 years

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How did you create Cora?Did you create her specifically for askdescendants,or did you just come up with the idea one day?Was the Queen of Hearts her mother from the beginning?

OOC: I write fanfiction as well as my ongoing eternal novel (a perpetual work in progress), so I’m used to creating characters pretty quickly- it’s like breathing to me. However, I haven’t written any Descendants fanfiction (just Once Upon a Time and a Sailor Moon/Inuyasha crossover; check me out on fanfiction.net as ladykikyo1792. #shamelessselfpromo lol). I had been low key following the AskDescendants group on my personal blog for a while and toyed with the idea of applying, but I didn’t know who to apply as. I loved the idea of being a daughter of Evil Queen or Maleficent (I have SO MANY HEADCANONS for the daughter of Evil Queen), but obviously Evie and Mal exist and are known to be only children. I kind of went through the rest of the Disney villains and was rather underwhelmed. I got to the Queen of Hearts, went “Hmm, haven’t watched Alice in Wonderland in years,” watched it, and then realized that the QOH would actually be REALLY fun to do. She also had the potential to go quite dark, and I really enjoy writing (and as I’m learning, roleplaying) dark characters. So then I tried to come up with a name (because in my not biased opinion [jk, I’m totally biased haha], the Princess of Hearts sounded like an awesome title). Except nothing really went with Queen of Hearts. I hated the name Queenie, and wasn’t a fan of Harley or Holly or Hannah. It just didn’t fit. I do speak some Spanish and the word corazon translates to “heart,” so I ended up adjusting that to be Corazana with Cora getting the nickname of Cora. Long story short, the Queen of Hearts was always her mother. I’m trying to think more specific things as far as how I created Cora…I mentioned I like the idea of dark characters, and I wanted Cora to have some features that set her apart other than just short-tempered (even though she is) or really snobby (which she isn’t), which seem to characterize the Queen of Hearts in Disney canon. When I thought about the fact that the QOH literally enjoys chopping people’s heads off and has zero empathy for anyone, that falls under the category of “psychopath” (without getting into the nitty gritty of psychology here). The King of Hearts seems to realize his wife has issues (to put it politely), as he frequently pardons people she tries to behead and tries to get Alice a trial, so I thought it made sense for Cora to have a touch of psychosis, but not be a full blown psychopath. She can empathize with others, but when she has a “slip,” she can hallucinate and experiences psychotic episodes (psychosis and psychopathy are actually different). And again, I like dark characters, so I loved this idea for her. I also later realized that I subconsciously gave her a condition which marks her as very different…which I sometimes feel like as I also have epilepsy and experience grand mal seizures.The epilepsy thing kind of bled into Cora indirectly as well because I also identified her as a daughter of one of the only powerful villains in canon who doesn’t have “magic,” so I kind of viewed that almost as another thing making her different (mean mun that I am, I accidentally isolated her. Whoops).

Since Cora cannot do magic, I gave her physical weapons instead- although throwing daggers are more practical, I also did a small nod to Alice in Wonderland in giving her a croquet mallet as a weapon. …this answer got way longer than I intended lol. But yeah. So short version: (1) Cora’s mother was always the Queen of Hearts (2) She was created specifically for AskDescendants, and then I decided I wanted an indie blog for her as well (3) I wish I had a better insight as to how I make up characters or my creative process, but I’ve just always kind of been making characters up since the time I was little for books and fanfiction that I write. Any more questions, send them in! I love to gab about Cora XD

#ooc #creative process #do I even have one #Lord knows #anyway I love Cora #queen of hearts #princessofhearts #ask #asks #answered #cora-theprincessofhearts

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kuriquinn · 7 years

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Why Sasuke Uchiha Will Never Drink Again [One-Shot]

Masterlist & Disclaimer

Summary: One of Konoha’s best kept secrets is no longer a secret.

Disclaimer: This story utilises characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelisations, comics or short stories is intended by KuriQuinn in any way, shape or form. This fan-oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All plot and Original Characters except for those introduced in the canon books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn. (© KuriQuinn 2016- )

Rating: T

Warning: Mild OOC? They’re characters that grew up differently than the canon, so a little bit of change in personality. Mentions of OCs (Manako Inuzuka)

Canon/Fanon Compliance: AU ‘verse. Sasuke left Konoha, but he came back right away or right after training or something. Team 7 went on to become ANBU

"This," Sasuke says, "is ridiculous."

"No, this is genius," Naruto retorts. "And long overdue. You're back for the first time in two years—with a secret baby you didn't tell anyone about—"

"Because you wouldn't have overreacted about it at all," Sai interjects.

"—and I finally have a night off from learning all the most boring Hokage crap—"

"Ahem," Kakashi cough as he carefully pours several shot glasses full of the strongest nihonshu that Tsunade ever hid in the Hokage's office. He still keeps it around for days when his choices are between getting blind drunk or committing homicide.

Usually because of the three other men in the room with him and their female teammate.

"—and our lovely wives are catching Sakura up on two years of gossip—"

Sasuke rolls his eyes. "It wasn't two years, idiot."

"—so we are going to spend the night doing manly bonding stuff," Naruto concludes.

"Which apparently involves copious amounts of alcohol."

"Damn straight."

"Why am I here?" Sai asks. "I'm secure enough in my masculinity that I don't need 'manly bonding stuff'."

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at him. "Did you just use air quotes?"

"Did I not do it properly?"

"No, you did. It's just…weird."

"Noted."

"I'm going home," Sasuke sighs and heads toward the door. "Kakashi, I'll be back to give you my report tomorrow, when you're not surrounded by morons."

"Hm, it appears what Sakura told Ino was true," Sai remarks innocently.

"Huh. Looks like," Naruto agrees, also affecting a casual tone of voice.

"I never would have believed it," Kakashi concludes, and Sasuke can practically hear him shaking his head.

He stops, mid-step, and his eyes drift closed in resignation. Every brain cell he was ever given tells him to ignore it. People have goaded him with worse in the past and he has learned not to rise to the bait.

However—

It's Naruto. And an insinuation by Naruto does not go unanswered, for any reason.

"What has my wife been saying?" Sasuke asks, not turning around and trying to keep his tone carefully measured.

"Only that your alcohol tolerance is worse than Lee's," his oldest friend concludes happily. "And here I was going to give you a chance to prove that was just a lie…"

Sasuke's jaw clenches, hearing the challenge in Naruto's voice, and he really should just keep going.

Of course, that's not what he does.

Whirling around he marches towards the filled shot glasses and reaches for one, intending to throw it down his throat just to prove he isn't worried about it.

Naruto stops him.

"Hey-hey, hold on, you're not just gonna chug them!" he protests. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Ah, is this where the 'manly bonding stuff' comes in?" Sai inquires. "I assume you have some kind of drinking game in mind, then?"

"Not happening," Sasuke declares, although he doesn't return on his path to the door.

"Kiba showed it to me," Naruto says cheerfully. "It's called ‘Never Have I Ever’."

"Oh, this is going to go well," Kakashi gives a resigned sigh.

"The rules are easy! Someone confesses something they have never done, and the other people who have done that thing all have to take a shot," Naruto explains.

"And the point of this is…?" Sasuke asks.

"To see who passes out drunk first," Sai says.

"And manly bonding," Naruto adds.

"I'm going home," Sasuke says.

"I can assign you cat retrieval missions from now until Sarada enters the Academy," Kakashi points out innocently.

Sasuke glares and takes a seat in front of the desk where several shot glasses are just waiting to be consumed.

"Very well, I will go first," Sai declares, considering for a moment. Then he beams. "I have never sung karaoke."

Naruto throws back a shot, and Kakashi sighs before doing the same.

"Really?" Sai asks.

"It was one of Gai's tamer challenges," Kakashi says, which explains it all. He side-eyes his former students. "Never have I ever snuck into a movie."

Naruto and Sasuke exchange glances and down their drinks.

"Why would you bother doing that?" Sai wants to know.

"We were thirteen," Naruto explains. "And technically we paid. But sitting on the ceiling wasn't exactly allowed, so we had to sneak in."

"But…why?"

"Training," Sasuke answers shortly, and then smirks at Naruto. He nods at one of the shots in front of him. "I have never accidentally set myself on fire."

Naruto glares, but reaches for the drink nonetheless. "That was once."

"It still happened."

"Yeah, well I never set someone on fire on purpose."

Sasuke snorts but reaches for his drink without outward complaint. Kakashi takes a drink as well.

Through that damned mask, as usual. I guess it's a good thing you're not supposed to taste the alcohol anyhow…

Sasuke's eye twitches as the liquor burns its way down his throat, and he wonders if it's possible to learn to speed up one's metabolism in a matter of minutes. He knows kunoichi are taught that trick in the Academy and makes a mental note to ask Sakura about it later.

As for now, he is going to have to play this ridiculous game in a manner that gets his friends inebriated before he hits his limit.

Sakura is going to pay for mentioning this…

"Never have I ever…" Sai begins, and then says brightly, "urinated in the shower."

Kakashi groans in disgust and Sasuke casually tells him, "There is something deeply wrong with you." When Naruto turns red and takes a shot, he adds, "And in your case, that goes without saying."

"I blame dealing with your bullshit," Naruto shoots back.

"Now, now, let's think of happier things," Kakashi lectures in a mocking tone. "For example, the fact that I have never been beaten up by an ostrich."

Sai sniggers as Naruto and Sasuke adopt identical beleaguered expressions and throw back their respective shots.

"Why are you guys picking on me?" Naruto complains, wiping his mouth.

"It's not our fault you've done pretty much every idiotic thing under the sun," Sasuke retorts, having to concentrate on enunciating his words. His cheeks feel a little warmer than usual, too. "Unlike you, I've never graffitied public property."

Naruto reaches for the next shot and sneers at Sasuke, "Yeah, but at least I've never been to prison. That's pretty idiotic."

Sasuke chooses not to reply to that, mostly because he still retains enough of his (ever-lessening) judgement to know that picking a fight while under the influence of alcohol would be a bad idea.

Also, he's pretty sure that Sakura would kill him. And Hinata would give him that disappointed look, the one that always makes him feel like he's kicked a puppy.

In deference of a wife with super-strength and not facing any kicked-puppy expressions from the mouse of a woman that could conceivably kill him with two fingers if she felt the inclination, Sasuke lets it go.

This time.

"My turn," Sai pipes up. "I have never streaked naked through the village."

Sasuke glances at Naruto, half-expecting him to take a drink, but the blond man simply looks amused at the idea. To everyone's surprise, Kakashi takes a drink.

Naruto guffaws and Sasuke raises an eyebrow at him. "Another of Gai's contests?"

"Yes."

"Clearly Naruto isn't the only one with tendencies toward poor judgement," Sai determines.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it poor," Kakashi muses, "it was actually quite liberating. You'd be surprised how good it feels to have a breeze between your—"

"Nope! Uh-uh, don’t want to know! Stop talking!" Naruto yells, while Sasuke's eye begins to twitch again. "It's your turn anyhow, Kakashi-sensei."

The white-haired man sighs. "Are you guys ever going to stop calling me sensei? I haven't been your squad leader since you were kids."

"If it helps, I never called you sensei," Sasuke points out. Then he frowns, because that was a little more candid than usual. His head is beginning to feel like it's being buoyed up by cotton. Why did he think this was a good idea again?

Kakashi regards him with an amused look in his eyes, and shakes his head. Then he juts his neck toward Sai, "Never have I have crossed-dressed.

Sai blinks. "How did you know about that?"

"Manako saw you. She says you're surprisingly adept at walking in high heels."

"Ino makes me practice," Sai shrugs, throwing his drink down his throat.

"Why?" Naruto demands, looking scandalised.

Sai smirks. "Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"At least he's finally had something to drink," Sasuke mutters.

"Why, are you worried you'll be the only one inebriated here, Coward?"

Sasuke narrows his eyes. "Never have I ever been part of a secret black ops organization."

Sai frowns and takes a shot; Kakashi does as well.

"Can we perhaps stay away from the darker topics?" he suggests.

"Good idea," Naruto says. He pauses to think, and frowns as if he can't think up anything good. In the end he settles on, "I have never sung in the shower."

Kakashi and Sai both drink.

"Did you even know what a shower was before marrying Hinata?" Sasuke challenges.

"At least I knew what a naked woman looked like before I got married."

"Oh, have we moved on to nudity then?" Sai speaks up, interrupting Sasuke's inner argument about whether to throw a fireball at his friend or electrocute him. "I have never engaged in naked pursuits with a woman that is not my wife."

"'Naked pursuits'?" Naruto asks.

"Sex, you moron," Sasuke rolls his eyes.

"Oh. Oh."

Kakashi reaches for a shot. When he notices Naruto and Sasuke's somewhat judgemental expressions he snorts.

"I wasn't a monk before I met you guys, you know. Not all of us can have some great, epic love story that spans years and continents, or ruins lives and sheds blood. Sometimes a good relationship starts out just as sex," he takes a drink, and then looks around as if he hasn't just imparted some oddly deep philosophy. "My turn, right? Alright—my first kiss wasn't with a man."

Naruto and Sasuke make identical noises of choked outrage and grudgingly down their shots.

"I heard about that," Sai sniggers. "Ino says it nearly caused a riot and that Naruto is lucky to have lived through puberty."

"Damn right he is," Sasuke mutters.

"Your turn, my adorable student," Kakashi points out.

"I'm thinking…"

"Oh, wow, only five shots and you already have to think?" Naruto jeers.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't counting drinks invalidate things somehow?" Sai wonders. "Or does that just mean you haven't had enough?"

"Shut up. I have one," Sasuke interrupts, an idea coming to him before he can think too clearly about what his former teacher just said. "I have never read porn."

"There's a difference between porn and erotica," Kakashi grumbles, although he takes a shot; Naruto and Sai do as well.

"Semantics. It's still something closet perverts like you three do."

"That was research—and it paid off!" Naruto points out. "Remember the time my Reverse Harem Jutsu almost saved the world?"

"And how many naked men did you have to look at to get that one right?" Sai wonders. "At least when I've watched porn, it's been women."

"Your wife lets you watch porn?" Sasuke asks, squinting at the other man. For some reason that doesn't jive with what he knows of Ino.

"Hey! I've got the next one!" Naruto shouts as he refills their shot glasses. "Never have I ever watched porn with someone else!"

Sasuke shudders at the idea of that brand of awkwardness, and to his utter lack of surprise, both Kakashi and Sai drink.

"It was for educational purposes," Sai says unabashedly, while Kakashi shrugs, "It's really not a big deal."

"Please tell me this was with your wives and not some random dude you decided to watch porn with," Naruto groans.

"No," Sasuke interrupts. "Don't. Don't tell us anything. Ever. Just…take your damn turn and move on."

I'm going home. As soon as my feet don't feel like bubbles, I am leaving…

"I have never had sex with more than one person at a time," Sai declares.

Sasuke groans inwardly; he should have known they weren't going to leave the topic of sex alone once it had been broached.

This is about to take a turn for the awkward.

Again, Kakashi takes a drink.

"Really?" Naruto looks scandalised and fascinated. "Was it with two girls, or a guy and a girl?"

"Gentlemen don't kiss and tell," Kakashi says mysteriously.

"Gentlemen don't play stupid drinking games," Sasuke points out.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at this, and then says innocently, "I've never had sex outdoors.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes.

The other two watch him in expectation, as if waiting for him to outright lie. It occurs to Sasuke that playing this game with a bunch of shinobi wasn't a good idea. Even if he wanted to lie about something, they'd be able to tell.

Aware of the warmth in his cheeks, he reaches for his drink, pointing out as he does, "That's common knowledge."

"It still counts."

"Fine. I've never had my child walk in during."

Mostly because Sarada is a long time away from walking, but it's something he figures must have happened to his sensei at some point. He's got three kids past the toddling age.

As expected, Kakashi has to take a drink, and Sasuke basks in a momentary sense of victory.

Until Naruto laughingly shouts, "Oh, hey, I got one! I got one! Never have I ever…done butt stuff during sex!"

And Sasuke promptly chokes on his own spit.

Because no, no, no, that is not something he ever expected to be brought up here.

Naruto is smirking a challenge at Kakashi, like he figures learning one or two perverted things about his former teacher have given him total insight into how to get his sensei drunk.

Kakashi takes a drink, and then crosses his arms (his attempt to look unbothered is tempered by his pink cheeks). "I'm not ashamed. My sex life is amazing."

Naruto gapes. "No way! That was totally a joke, I didn't think—" He is interrupted as Sai cheerfully takes a shot as well. "Ehhhh?! You too?"

"Don't knock it until you try it," Sai says. "It's actually an interesting sensation when experienced in conjunction with—"

And that's my cue—

Sasuke wobbles to his feet. "I don't need to know any of this. I'm leaving."

"After all that ridiculousness, this is your limit?" Kakashi challenges, a knowing tone in his voice. Sasuke continues making a dogged beeline to the door. "Huh. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to avoid another shot, Sasuke."

"Hahaha!" Naruto sniggers. "No way."

Just a few more steps…

"Sasuke would never be into that sort of thing, he's way too boring," Naruto continues. "Remember, we had to practically tell him what sex was before he got married…"

Almost there…

"As I recall, he had a very interesting reaction to certain topics that night," Sai points out. "Particularly when we asked him the sort of things he had done with Sakura already. His neck used to get very red. A bit like what's happening right now."

Just reach out and grab the door –

"No way," Naruto murmurs blandly. "No fucking way."

"I did not see that coming," Kakashi says, sounding too surprised to be teasing.

"You mean Sasuke Uchiha took it up the ass?!" Naruto shouts.

Sasuke turns around, glaring daggers at this friend. "Shout it a little louder, you utter moron!"

There is silence.

Naruto's jaw drops, and the other two are blinking in surprise. The tableau would be funny if it weren't for the fact that Sasuke has realised his usual perfect control over his emotions have just caused him to confirm the one thing he did not want to confirm.

Shit.

"But wait…if you've never been with anyone you weren't married to, that would mean…" Sai begins.

"Don't finish that sentence," Sasuke warns.

"Sakura," Sai concludes.

"So she used a…?" Kakashi makes a lewd gesture.

"I did not need to know that about Sakura," Naruto murmurs, shuddering. "Oh, gods, I just got a mental image—oh my god, somebody scramble my brains, please!"

"That can be arranged," Sasuke growls, feeling electricity beginning to crackle in his palm.

"Aaaaand I'm calling an executive order to end tonight," Kakashi says, staggering to his feet. "By order of the Hokage, blah blah blah, you are all to go home and sober up. And no murders while in the Konoha environs."

"Seriously?!" Naruto squeaks at Sasuke, still apparently struggling with the concept.

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'm taking off an arm," Sasuke hisses, taking a menacing step forward. "Or a leg. Probably a leg. Think how ridiculous you'll look, hopping around on one leg. Then you'll never be Hokage."

"And that's how we know Sasuke is drunk, gentlemen," Kakashi says. "Rambling death threats. I think we can call tonight a success, don't you?"

"We should do it again some time," Sai agrees.

"I'm leaving," Sasuke grumbles. "I'm taking a mission to the middle of fucking nowhere and never coming back. And I'm telling my wife it's your fault, and she's going to kill you all for me. I won't even have to get my hands dirty."

Kakashi chuckles. "I suppose I should make sure you get home alright and don't end up walking into a tree."

"Tch."

He stalks off, wobbling and angry and wondering if it's worth the headache to use a portal to get home.

"So, is this butt-sex thing something I'm missing out on?" he hears Naruto asks Sai, and then he sees red.

With a snarl of rage, Sasuke whirls around and makes a dive for Naruto's neck.

終わり

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome, but if you feel like keeping me caffeinated out of the goodness of your heart, it certainly would be appreciated! I’m also starting to post original works to my patreon.

I’m only able to keep writing as I do thanks to the support of readers like you, so every bit helps!

栗

#i don't even know #crack fic #naruto fanfiction #guy's night in #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #sai yamanaka #kakashi hatake #sorry i'm missing the IOG update

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metahuman-misadventures · 7 years

Text

Everclear

HR x Reader

Timeline: Mid-Season 3 - whenevs

Rating: M

Author's Notes: So... this didn't end up where it was supposed to go. *scratches head* Not quite sure what happened there... it was supposed to be pure smut... somehow ended up with kinda m-rated fluff? Fuck me, I don't even fucking know. It was also supposed to be 1-2 pages. Ended up being 7.

Also... stiiiiiill not entirely comfortable with reader-inserts, so I'm not sure how well I pulled this off. Apologies for typos/grammatical errors. I has no beta. I am beta-less. Probably completely OOC. I don't know. I'm still wrecked from the season finale.

moodboard made by the amazing @darlingpetao3. THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!!!

Giggling, you stumbled back until you hit the wall of HR's makeshift bedroom in the old offices of S.T.A.R. Labs. He was pressing up against you, his mouth on your neck leaving small kisses and the scent of coffee on the soft skin there. One of his hands was clumsily fiddling with the button of your jeans, the other was tangled in your hair at the back of your head, and you drunkenly told yourself, not for the first time, that this was probably a Very Bad Idea.

It had started so innocently. After a particularly trying day, the rest of the team had finally gone home to sleep and you were just about to follow suit when HR had come strolling back into the Cortex with a fresh pot of coffee and a smile on his face.

“Care for a nightcap?” He grinned and offered you a mug.

“It's nearly midnight.” You groaned, but accepted the coffee anyway. Turning down free caffeine had never been your strong suit, and as much as you hated to admit it, HR made the best coffee outside of Jitters.

“Java has no curfew.” He winked and sat down in the chair next to you, a twinkle in those gorgeous blue eyes you'd spent a lot of time admiring, and hoping he never noticed.

You took a sip of the hot black liquid and closed your eyes for a moment, letting a little sigh slip out. 'What the hell', you thought and looked back up at the handsome man across from you. Reaching down into the backpack at your feet, you pulled out a bottle of the dark brown concoction you'd been saving to share with your roommate and set it on the desk between the two of you. “It's not really a nightcap without a little kick.”

HR looked curiously at the bottle and you motioned for him to open it. Watching his long fingers just a little too intensely, you bit your lip as he popped open the corked latch and took a cautious sniff.

“Holy-” His eyes opened in surprise and and took a longer whiff of the strong alcohol. “What, in the oh-so-wide multiverse, is this? It smells like coffee, bad decisions, and regret.”

You nodded and let out a little laugh. “Pretty damn close. It's Everclear mixed with a homemade espresso and sugar reduction. My roommate broke up with her boyfriend last night and this was supposed to help wipe out some bad memories. She's probably already in bed though. I made it this morning before...” you trailed off as he quirked an eyebrow at you. “What?”

“Everclear?” HR looked at you in confusion. “The kid's juice drink?”

“.....yeah, not here.” You smiled and shook your head. “It's basically engine de-greaser on Earth-1.”

He grimaced and dipped his little finger in the bottle, taking just a drop and sucking it off his pinkie in a way that made you think some pretty dirty little thoughts about where else you wanted those lips to be. As he tasted the alcohol, his eyes widened almost comically and he coughed once and cleared his throat. “Wow. That... is potent. I have a very bad feeling about this.” But there was a glint of mischief in his face and you couldn't help but grin back at him and wink.

“C'mon.” You said while picking up the bottle and pouring a generous amount into both of your mugs of coffee. “Let's make some bad decisions.”

Now, as HR's fingers finally popped open the button on your jeans and slid inside to rub against the soft cotton of your panties, you tried to remember what exactly had led you back here to his bedroom. He'd been talking about Earth-19 again, but god knows you hadn't been listening very well. The fire of the liquor had coursed through you quicker than intended and all you could concentrate on was the shape of his lips and the sound of his voice. You'd tried to pay attention, honestly you had. But the longer he'd spoken, the more you just wanted to climb into his lap and put his mouth to better use. Every laugh, every quirk of his mouth just seemed to get you more and more worked up and the warmth between your legs had rapidly turned into an aching desire. Between the two of you, you'd consumed more than was probably safe of the homemade abomination and you'd definitely be paying for it the next morning. At the moment though, all you'd wanted to do was lean forward and capture his mouth with yours and run your fingers through that ridiculously tousled hair.

You'd finally gotten brave enough to scoot your chair closer to his, but your balance had been severely lacking and you ended up tipping over and falling out of it instead. To his credit, HR had tried to catch you at the last second, his musings on the differences in Organic Fair Trade on your respective Earths cut short, but he'd only managed to drunkenly snag your shirt sleeve as you went down. The momentum had pulled him out of his chair as well, and he'd barely managed to avoid crushing you completely.

It was almost obscene, the way his body had fallen on yours. You felt the way his hips pressed into you and in your less than sober state, you were sure there was a hardness down there that could really only be one thing. Drunk on just a little more than the liquor, you had brazenly reached down and grasped at the sturdy black fabric of his pants, and then eagerly rolled your hips up against his.

With a groan, HR had responded in kind, grinding down into you and burying his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Here starts the bad decisions...” he'd murmured, before catching the lobe of your ear in his teeth and gently sucking.

From there, things were a blur. There was kissing, and whimpering, and moaning... and somehow one of you had the sense to suggest taking things somewhere softer than the floor of the cortex. It had taken a while, the two of you stumbling and holding each other and stopping often to press each other up against a wall or elevator door for some intense making out and fondling before continuing on and finally making it to where you were now. Where you'd dreamed of being for months now, though never thought it would be quite like this.

“HR?” Your voice trembled a little and his fingers immediately stopped their exploration.

With a soft sigh, his lips left your neck and he pulled back to look into your eyes. “You okay, beautiful?”

“We're drunk.” You swallowed hard, trying to focus on his face. Oh god, you wanted this. You'd wanted it for a long time.

“Oh yeah.” HR licked his lips and looked like he wanted to lean in to kiss you, but was desperately trying to hold back. “So very drunk.” His hand was still in your pants, the tips of his fingers just within reach of your slick folds and it would only take the slightest encouragement for him to keep going. The ache between your legs was making it hard for you to think, but a small part of your brain kept flashing: Very. Bad. Idea.

“Are we going to regret this in the morning?” The small waver in your voice seemed to sober him up, and gently, his fingers pulled out of your pants and he caressed the skin of you stomach with his thumb before sliding his hand to your waist. You whimpered and shut your eyes, fighting the urge to beg him not to stop, to beg him to fuck you until you couldn't walk right for the next week. Moments passed; you could feel the pull between you two, it was an almost tactile sensation... or at least your heavily inebriated brain thought so. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, but you weren't sure if it was the alcohol or something more that he was feeling. You know what it was for you, it had been there slowly growing since the first time you'd seen him step through that portal. Odd, how you could find yourself so attracted to the doppelganger of a man who you'd only ever thought of as an ally.

When you finally opened your eyes again, HR was looking at you with his head tilted and a smile on his adorable face. His crystal blue eyes were twinkling in the dimly lit room and there was no uncertainty in his features. He leaned forward and ever so softly kissed you, the smell of coffee and liquor still in his mouth. “It's already morning.” He spoke quietly and rested his forehead against yours. “And I would never regret doing this with you.” A soft warmth flooded through you as his hand lifted up to brush a stray hair from your cheek and he caressed the soft skin there while leaning in for another gentle kiss. “But I think maybe you will.”

“No-” You shook your head, but he just nodded sweetly.

“Let me word that differently, then. I think you're going to regret us rutting up against the wall like horny teenagers while completely and utterly wasted on that awful concoction you're toting around in your knapsack, instead of being sober and taking this a bit slower.”

“HR...”

“So-” He continued, still gently stroking your cheek. “-why don't we climb into my very comfortable bed over there and sleep this off.” His mouth quirked up in an amused expression and you were starting to think he wasn't nearly as intoxicated as you were, or at least much better at hiding it. “And we'll continue this later.”

Pressing your lips together in a sudden rush of emotion, you blinked back tears and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face against his neck. You let out a small cry and realized that yes, indeed, you were much too drunk for this. You were horny, sad, relieved, disappointed and suddenly far too tired to be dealing with this right now. Stupid alcohol.

“How'r you so sweet?” You slurred into his shoulder, feeling a sudden release of emotional pressure you hadn't even known was there. “I love your stupid face so much.”

You heard him chuckle lightly and then suddenly you were being lifted up and away from the wall. A small squeak escaped your mouth and you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding on tight at the sudden movement. A few awkward steps and you were deposited onto his bed, the soft blankets welcoming you in a way that felt absolutely heavenly. You kicked off your shoes and with great effort pushed yourself over until you were watching HR strip off his sweater and undershirt. His fingers paused at the button on his pants as he caught you staring with a small half smile and the tip of your tongue just barely wetting your lips.

“Normally... uh... I sleep au naturel.” HR dropped his hands without undoing the button and sat down on the side of the bed to unlace his boots. “Lots of benefits. Good for circulation, temperature control...” His voice trailed off as one of your hands reached out and started running lazy circles on the skin of his lower back.

“I'll sleep naked with you anytime.” Your eyelids suddenly felt very very heavy and you hummed softy at the sensation of his very warm skin under your hand.

He kicked off the boots and turned, pulling his legs up on the bed and gently moving your hand out of the way before laying down, facing you. As soon as he was settled you immediately wiggled in close and closed your eyes, your hand running over the lean muscles of his abdomen and over his hip to rest there. The tips of your fingers slid just under the edge of his pants and he wrapped an arm around you, holding you tight. “I don't think you'll be able to control yourself when that happens. I am an incredibly attractive guy, after all.”

“Y'don't say?” You sighed happily laid a few clumsy kisses on his collarbone, the only place you could reach without moving your head.

HR let out a soft laugh and his lips pressed against your forehead, lingering there for a long moment. “Go to sleep, beautiful.”

About five hours had passed when you groggily opened your eyes and moaned softly. It took a moment to orient yourself and realize that yes, you were in HR's bedroom and yes, those were his arms still wrapped around you tight. It was a dream, a fantasy, an idea that you never thought would have come to fruition. It was everything you'd wanted in the past few months and it was perfect. And it was about to come to a screeching halt.

“Let go.” You pushed frantically at his arms, still laying heavily over your torso.

“Hmmm?” His eyes blinked open and those amazing lips curved ever so slightly. “Well, good morni-”

“GET OFF ME!” You flailed a little in panic and his expression turned to concern as he quickly untangled himself from your thrashing body.

The instant you were free, you rolled off the bed away from him and fell on the floor with a painful thud. You heard him call your name, asking if you were okay, but you couldn't open your mouth again, afraid of what might happen if you did. Giving thanks to whatever deity might be listening that HR had chosen an office with an adjoining private bathroom as his bedroom suite, you picked yourself off the floor as gracefully as you could under the circumstances and flung yourself towards the open door. There was a soft glow from an led nightlight next to the sink that was thankfully bright enough to let you find what you were looking for.

Your stomach turned over on itself, and there was barely enough time for you to lift the porcelain lid before all of bad decisions, regret, coffee and alcohol came rushing back up. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you that he'd never invite you back to his room after this. Hell, you might never even come back to S.T.A.R. Labs after this. It would probably be best for everyone if you just quietly skulked off into the fading sunset and never showed your face around here again.

It wasn't clear how long you were retching, but by the time you were done you had no energy left to pick yourself up off the floor. It took an amazing amount of effort to reach up and hit the handle that would flush away the evidence of last night's mistakes. Your head was pounding and you whimpered a little before realizing that there was a hand gently holding your waist and another rubbing softly at the base of your neck.

“I have you. It's okay.” HR was murmuring quietly, over and over, as he crouched down behind you, helping hold you upright.

Your stomach rolled one more time, but there was nothing left to come out and you dry heaved, your body shuddering violently and the throbbing in your head increasing tenfold. When you didn't have enough coordination to even tear off a piece of toilet paper, he reached over and did it for you then gently wiped your mouth and kissed the top of your head.

“Thanks...” you groaned and let your body fall back against him. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, beautiful. I think you can be forgiven this once.” For the second time that morning, you found yourself being picked up in his strong arms, only this time he was cradling you bridal style, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. You rested your head on his shoulder as he carried you from the bathroom and once again set you down on the still warm blankets of his bed.

“How are you even standing upright?” You mumbled and squinted up at him. “I could barely hold on to the toilet without falling over.”

“Hmm, must be my Earth-19 metabolism. Also, I get a very healthy amount of exercise each day. It does wonders for body. I can come up with a training regiment for you if you like! We can start today. Why should B.A. And Wallace get all the fun on that track? Sure, we don't have superspeed but-”

“Please shut up.”

“Okay.” He pulled a blanket over top of you and smoothed back your hair. “I'll be right back with some water.”

“Thank you.”

You'd almost drifted back to sleep when he came back holding a clear glass of water in one hand and two small white tablets in the other. “Take these and sleep some more.”

You sat up with considerable effort but managed to down the painkillers and half of the water. Setting the glass on the nightstand next to the bed, you watched as HR started rummaging through a set of drawers and pulling some clean clothes out. “What are you doing?”

He must have heard the uncertainty in your voice and he smiled and came around to sit next to you. “Well, there's no use in wasting the day, it's almost six! I'm wide awake now, so I think I'll go for a nice little jog.”

“Oh my god.” You looked at him with growing horror. “I forgot, you're one of those people.”

“Mm-hmm.” He leaned over and surprised you with soft kiss. “And you said you loved me.”

Your mouth fell open and you stared at him in shock for a moment before registering what you'd told him while still drunk. “I didn't... I mean... that's not what I meant...” you finished dumbly, your face turning bright red in embarrassment.

“Right, I'm sorry. You said you loved my stupid face.” He grinned and pointed up at himself with both hands. “This face. Right here. The one you haven't stopped looking at for the last few months.”

Surprised, and knowing you couldn't really deny it, you leaned back against the pillows and pretended to glare at him to cover your embarrassment. “It is stupid. With those stupid dimples, and those stupid blue eyes, and that stupid smile...”

“Well if by 'stupid' you mean exceedingly dashing and incredibly charming, then yes. I suppose you're right.”

“You knew. I can't believe you knew this whole time and didn't say anything to me. Oh god.” You buried your face in your hands and rubbed your eyes. “Oh my god. Why didn't you say something?”

“Well it was pretty cute the way you thought I didn't notice.” Feeling like fool you glanced up to see his smile brighten even more, as if that were possible. “I figured you'd make a move when you were ready. I just didn't think it would take industrial-strength paint thinner to help with that.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and wrinkled your nose, knowing how childish you probably looked, but HR simply laughed and leaned over to kiss the tip of your nose. “And it just so happens, I love your stupid face as well.”

End Notes: OMG, what the hell happened. It was supposed to be drunk against the wall smut and somehow THIS HAPPENED. WHAT THE FUCK. I can’t do anything right. Oh well. LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE IT. Feel free to reblog, but please no re-posting?

#hr x reader #hr wells x reader #fanfiction #reader insert #hr wells

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