#remember to comment under my taglist post in my pinned post if you want to be tagged in my works! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xenteaart · 4 years ago

Text

Shall We? (Part 2)

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x fem!Reader

Request: Can I request part two for Shall We? Pleeeeaase 🙏!! You can’t just leave it like that.

Word count: 1,7k

Warnings: kind of a fight scene?? and like one swear word idk

Note: Sooo here’s part two of this fic, give it a read if you havent coz otherwise this one is not going to make much sense haha

For the sake of the story, Five disappeared when he was 18 (instead of 13) and got stuck in his 18 year-old-body after coming back accordingly. Also I’ve decided to give the reader and the Handler kind of a Lila x the Handler dynamic

The events are taking place in s1, some details of the canon are obvsly altered.

ALSO THERE’S A LIL EASTER EGG AT THE END MWEHEHE

Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @stitched-mouth @startrekkingaroundasgard

“You do know you can’t win. I really don’t wanna hurt you, Y/N,” he uttered, raising his hands a little as a way to warn you not to come any closer for your own good.

Even though it was supposed to be a sweet gesture of concern, hearing him confirm that he still thought you were no match for him cut you to your very core.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m afraid you might have to. Shall we?” you sneered and threw your leg into the air, hitting Five right under his kneecap and making him collapse on the ground with a surprised gasp.

Five truly had zero intention of hurting you, but your determination to have a fight left him no choice, and even his clear advantage of having loads more experience and superpowers on top did not seem to make you hesitate.

“Come on, don’t be stupid, Y/N,” Five commented as he got back on his feet and took a few steps away from you, still giving you a chance to back off before he had to inflict any pain on your person, but all it achieved was winding you up even more.

The problem was - you two underwent identical training at the Commission as the Handler gave both of you her very best mentor, and right now you were basically mirroring each other’s moves, except Five was also using his spatial jumps to disorient you. He was still going easy on you, mostly just blocking your punches and jumping further away so you had to chase him all over the Academy while he was hoping you would simply exhaust yourself before any real damage would be done. Quite frankly, it was a smart decision on his part and a rather thoughtful one as well because, despite all appearances, he actually cared about you an awful lot.

As the both of you gracefully danced all the way to the second floor, you were already out of breath from the endless running around which meant Five’s plan was beginning to work. However, you realized what he was doing soon enough to indulge him into the feeling of being right and played his little game for a while, waiting for the perfect moment when he’d get distracted, and as the moment came you had to act fast.

You threw yourself forwards and promptly wrapped your arms around Five’s waist, knocking him off his feet and pressing your body against his as you pinned him to the floor. He groaned with annoyance and winced at the pain as his back hit the hard wooden surface. The next few seconds sort of happened in slow-mo for both of you as he roughly pushed you off himself and somehow managed to switch places with you, now looming over your body and warningly putting his knee on your solar plexus, threatening to crush your ribcage if you moved.

A mutual silence fell between you as you were processing the last 30 minutes of your lives, both visibly struggling to believe that each of you somehow ended up fighting the person they would never wish to hurt in their entire life. The sounds of your heavy breathing were filling the room as you were merely staring at each other in utter confusion. The weight of Five’s knee on your diaphragm was beginning to give you trouble breathing, and your breaths became shallow and hoarse which finally snapped him out of his trance.

“Gonna tell me what the hell is up now, Y/N?” he asked in his teacher-y manner that you used to absolutely hate and adore all at once, especially when he used to give you lectures on your occasional fuck-ups - whether it was failing a class because you were too lazy to turn in your assigments in time or something a little more serious, like getting into an argument with the Monocle and consequently making life harder for both of you.

You would always roll your eyes and smirk when he would get into his i-am-disappointed-in-you-but-i-still-love-you character and cross his arms on his chest for dramatic effect.

“You were the one telling me to piss off in the first place, remember,” you narrowed your eyes as you were subtly gasping for air underneath Five’s weight. He pursed his lips and looked away, contemplating whether or not to be completely honest. Evidently, his lack of sincerity got him nowhere the last time around, so he sighed loudly; his shoulders dropping and his expression finally revealing all of the exhaustion and regret that he was concealing quite successfully up until now.

“I only pushed you away to protect you.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” you replied, clearly unimpressed and palpably suspicious; two years of being brainwashed by the Handler now taking their toll on your perspective.

“God, don’t be so slow,” Five uttered clearly irritated but then quickly realized his offensive implication and added, “Said with respect.”

You stayed silent, raising your brow as a way of telling him to continue.

“I couldn’t risk you becoming a casualty because being involved in my family’s mess as a non-super is dangerous. As in, you’re going to be a target all the time, and I couldn’t and still can’t afford to waste my time worrying about your safety. As much as I’d love to - it’s simply not the luxury I have. I’ve got to stop the end of the world, otherwise everyone is going to be dead in four days, don’t you get it?” Five asked, a waterfall of emotions pushing at the inner sides of his chest, waiting to be set loose and consume everything on its way.

You were quietly listening to his explanation and taking it all in whilst still trying to fight off the suspicion and disbelief that were nagging at your every cell.

“I wanted to keep you safe because I couldn’t bear to lose you again,” his voice trembled a little as the memories of his post-apocalypse life washed over his mind, “The last 45 years have been a fucking nightmare.”

“I’d find it way more believable if you stopped crushing my ribs for starters,” you muttered through clenched teeth and immediately felt the pressure taken off your chest, precious and very much needed oxygen starting to flow through your system the way it should again.

Five got up and offered his hand to help you on your feet as a gesture to show you that he didn’t see you as an enemy and placed trust in you. You took his hand and steadied yourself awkwardly, still slightly disoriented and light-headed.

“I don’t know what the Handler told you but I do know she’s exceptional at manipulating,” Five added as he looked you right in the eye, “Christ, and you’re so naive, always have been. Most days it’s truly adorable but sometimes, Y/N, it really doesn’t work in your favor,” as the words escaped his lips, his gaze became noticeably softer; his expression blossoming with tenderness towards you.

“Prove it. Prove that you care.”

Five chuckled and shook his head, simultaneously annoyed and amused at your stubbornness. The atmosphere between you was shifting and you couldn’t help but notice the familiar overwhelming feeling of comfort and peace enveloping your person from head to toe. You’ve forgotten what it felt like being around Five, and now you were finally getting to remember. At home.

He slipped his hand into the pocket of his uniform shorts and pulled out a grape-sized plastic figure of a golden retriever.

“You gave me this a few days before I jumped and got stuck in the future. I carried it with me all the way. This silly trinket was the only thing I had left of you, the only thing that reminded me you were still out there waiting for me. Kept me going,” he shrugged casually as if it wasn’t important at all which it absolutely was.

“Five, c’mere! Look what I found!” you called for him as you were sitting on the floor surrounded by all sorts of useless crap. You were in the middle of decluttering your bedroom when a little figure of a dog caught your eye, it was the breed that Five was especially fond of and you knew he secretly dreamed of getting a puppy of his own as soon as he was out of the house.

“What’s that?” he asked, unimpressed.

“It’s a doggie! He wants to be your friend,” you replied, playing with your accent a little, rolling you “r”s and shifting the flow of your words to sound more Scottish or ... Russian. God knows where you were going with it but you tended to butcher your accent for fun quite a lot.

“Y/N, are you twelve?”

“His name is Mr.Pennycrumb and he’s gonna look after you whenever I’m not around,” you said with utmost confidence and gave him a wide smile, putting the trinket into Five’s pocket, clearly very proud of yourself and still committed to your silly accent performance, “Treat him well.”

Five scoffed and shrugged.

“Whatever.”

“So did he?” you asked, staring at the goddamn toy as tears were slowly welling up in your eyes.

“What?”

“Did he do a good job looking after you while I wasn’t around?” your gaze finally met Five’s as the realization in his own eyes was starting to sink in. A pained smile touched the corners of his mouth, and you could see Five genuinely struggle to maintain his tough facade.

“Yeah. He did.”

Without saying a word, you stepped closer and rested your cheek on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him, this time with no hostility or murderous intention. If you had to be perfectly honest with yourself, you’d admit you could never find it in you to actually hurt Five, let alone killing him. Both of you knew that way too well.

He returned the hug and pulled you closer, burying his nose in your hair and then planting a quick innocent kiss on the top of your head. Feeling the warmth radiating from you was enough to make him relax further into your embrace, his eyes now closed shut and his breathing steady and deep.

It didn’t last for as long as you’d like, though, a big loud bang from downstairs making you both flinch and pull away from each other, breaking your fragile bubble of comfort and calm in an instant.

“Shit, Hazel and Cha-Cha,” Five whispered, concern and worry crawling back onto his features. He briefly looked at you, and you simply nodded, non-verbally confirming that you were willing to help and were no longer part of the Handler’s plan.

The two of you were going to talk all about that later. His years alone, his and your own involvement with the Commission, the end of the world and loads more.

Of course, right in this moment neither of you could possibly know that your friendship was, in fact, a gateway into a lifelong partnership but you were bound to find out eventually. And the journey you two were about to begin as soon as the apocalypse was dealt with and gone was going to be magnificent.

#five hargreeves x reader #tua #The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy fanfic #five hargreeves #number five #my fic #my writing #five hargreeves x you #number five x you #five x reader #number five x reader

120 notes · View notes

theimprobabledreamersworld · 3 years ago

Text

Been struggling with writer’s block again! I’ve got a new chapter of My Past Became Our Future posted though! I liked writing this one, it was fun! So I hope you enjoy reading it too! 😊

Read on Ao3!

Taglist for this story: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @stardustlv If you wanna be added, let me know!

Read the story from the start here!

Here we go... Into Chapter Fourteen...

Chapter Fourteen: I Thought You Weren’t Like Them Anymore.

Warnings: Mild swearing, brief weapon use and mild violence.

“Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, Don’t let me drown”

Pain. Pain was all that could be felt. So much of it being experienced in one space, it was almost too much to bare. Virgil groaned as the light behind his eyes became more excruciating. He wanted to keep his eyes closed and just sleep, but he slowly remembered what had transpired and worry flooded his body at a rapid rate.

Is Logan okay? Is he hurt? What’s happened to Patton and Janus? Not that he cared much about the other two, Logan was his priority. Logan had always been his priority. He forced his eyes to open and his vision was blurred to a point where he couldn’t make anything out. The more he blinked, the clearer everything became and he saw two smiling faces looking down on him. He groaned and rubbed his eyes before stretching his arms out. He tried to sit up, but the black spots clouded his vision once again. This time though, he had two hands supporting him, keeping him grounded.

“Woah, be careful there Sunshine! You’ve only just re-joined us!” Thomas laughed and Nico smiled. Virgil looked at both of them and smiled slightly before trying to get up again. He was in their room, the room encased by memories. How did he even get up here?

“We brought you up, it was the least we could do and it meant we could check you over properly.” Virgil nodded and slowly swung his legs off the side of the bed. As he looked around acclimatising himself to his surroundings, he began to worry about where Logan was. Did his memories come back? Who was calling out to him before he passed out?

He looked around the room, praying that Logan would be in there waiting for him. Disappointment began to consume his mind along with overwhelming panic. He felt two hands gently touch his back and he flinched at the touch before slowly sinking into it. He took a deep breath and with the help of Thomas and Nico, he stood up gradually. Each step felt heavy like his feet were trapped in concrete but as he eventually got to the bedroom door, everything came back to him and he could finally walk without assistance, though the guys stayed behind him anyway just in case. He needed to find Logan, and he didn’t care what he had to do. Not anymore.

Virgil looked at the staircase and took yet another deep breath before walking down, one step at a time deliberately clinging to the handrail like his life depended on it, each step was agonising but he let his determination to protect his husband take over and the adrenaline did the rest. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked back into the living room, but it certainly wasn’t the scene that appeared before his eyes.

Patton and Janus were placed onto two different chairs. Roman looked pained as he refused to move from Janus’ side, he was desperately trying not cry as he constantly checked for a pulse every minute of the still, unconscious man. Virgil almost felt sorry for him, but he refused to let sentiment cloud his judgement now, he had done that far too many times already and look where that got him. Patton was at the far end of the room, Remus had clearly sorted out bandages for him as his arm was cleaned up and dressed very neatly. He looked up in surprised before growling at Virgil, a rage on his face that he had never seen before. He swallowed lightly before speaking up.

“Where’s Logan?” He said in an assertive tone, it felt odd talking back to Remus, but sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. Remus took out a pocket-knife and spun in around in an attempt to be threatening. Virgil sighed once again in a more impatient manner.

“I just asked you where Logan is, and now you’re showing me a knife. Is that a clue?” He heard sniggering from behind him, and couldn’t help but chuckle mentally at how aggressive he was now being with his line of questioning. Remus waved the knife towards another room before hissing at Virgil this time.

“Go. Or I’ll finish what your precious husband couldn’t.” Virgil saw the knife tremble slightly, behind all of that bravado, Remus was breaking ever so slightly. Virgil knew that he could take advantage of this situation, so he sucked in some air and felt much more confident now.

“Ooh, not from there you won’t. Let me help you.” He took four steps forward until he was right in front of Remus.

“Now. Concentrate. Where is Logan?” Virgil spoke slowly with a patronising tone, something Remus clearly disapproved of.

“Alright. You asked for it.” Remus raised the knife to his shoulder and Virgil tutted at such an amateur move. He slapped the knife out of Remus’ hand, before slamming him up against the wall and knocking his legs out from under him. Remus gasped for air as he was left with a major disadvantage. He tried to get up but Virgil had him pinned down. He grabbed the knife and waved it around in front of Remus.

He crouched down next to Remus, he took the knife away and waited patiently. “Right. Are we concentrating yet?” Eventually, Remus pointed weakly out of the corridor and Virgil raced out of the room. As he reached the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks when he realised that the back door was open. ‘God damn it, Logan’ He thought to himself, he winced as his legs began to shake with every step he took. He knew exactly where Logan would go. He opened the door to their expansive library and held onto the bookshelves for support until he reached a large bay window. Logan was staring out at the night sky, and the moon bathed him in a ghostly, white glow. It would have beautiful if it wasn’t so heart-breaking to see. Logan raised a hand up and Virgil stopped in his tracks.

“It would be unwise to be in my company right now, Virgil.” The rage in his voice palpable, but he knew that it was directed at himself and not Virgil. So he tutted and rolled his eyes before staggering over to the space next to him in the window.

“Who said I was wise?” He smirked and he saw Logan bow his head in an attempt to not smile at Virgil’s comment. They sat in the window together and Virgil forced Logan’s arms open from their crossed over state and snuggled into them, he felt Logan relax and embrace him properly. He knew what was going on in Logan’s mind. He was hating himself, he was angry that he succumbed to the mind control, he was angry that he hurt Virgil and he was angry about all of the things he said while he was being controlled. Virgil let them sit like that for a little bit longer before he decided to speak and try to calm the chaos that was definitely going on in his mind. He sat up and placed a hand delicately under Logan’s chin so they were looking each other in the eyes.

“Lo. Listen to me. None of this was your fault. Okay? Nothing you said or did was your actions. I’ve been under that control before, and trust me. It is powerful stuff. I know you didn’t mean anything you said. Don’t ask me to forgive you, there is absolutely nothing to forgive. Please, Lo. Let’s just leave with Thomas and Nico, let’s move on and forget everything.” Logan’s eyes welled up with tears, and Virgil knew that he was trying to think of something to say that will allow him to still feel bad about the situation.

“I… could have hurt you. Fuck. I could have killed you.” He grabbed Virgil’s other hand and squeezed it tight as he tried to stop himself from crying.

“Honey, it’s a hard feeling to come to terms with. I’m not going to tell you to forget about it, but I just want to remind you that we’re both here. You didn’t hurt me, and just proved once again that you are the strongest person I know. It takes a hell of a lot to fight Remus’ mind control, and the fact that you overcame it as quickly as you did shows how incredible you are. I love you to the ends of the unknown universe and back.” He smiled at his husband, and all Logan could do in response was pull him into a bone-crushing hug. They held each other for until they heard a loud cough at the door. Thomas had just taken a photo of the moment on his phone and Nico slapped his shoulder in response.

“Guys, we’re losing our window to leave. The others are still in the main room but are pretty pre-occupied. Let’s just grab our stuff and go!” The boys came up to Logan and Virgil then pulled them off the bay window. As they made their way down the corridor, Virgil saw their packed bags and a feeling of hope started to race through his body. They were finally going to get away, he could start his life again with Logan. One without looking over his shoulder, one where safety and security was guaranteed. He went to hold Logan’s hand but then out of nowhere, he felt something wrap around his waist and drag him back into the main room. With a yelp, he was on the ground and he remembered that he was completely unarmed and vulnerable. Virgil sighed and accepted his fate before looking up to see who was standing over him. It certainly wasn’t who he was expecting it to be.

“Roman?” Logan, Thomas and Nico rushed into the room after realising that Virgil wasn’t with them. They all gasped in shock. Roman had fallen to his knees and was gripping onto Virgil’s shirt. He held his hands up, unsure what to do in this situation. He could feel tears soak into his shirt and he couldn’t help the little stab of sympathy that he felt in his heart. Roman was never one of the real bad guys, he did what he was told but he was never as brutal as the others.

“P- p- please. Please, help him. I can’t lose him. I don’t care about Patton or Remus, I just need Janus to be okay. I- I don’t know what to do. I don’t want him to die.” Virgil felt torn. He shouldn’t be helping any of them. They’ve been hounding him, attacking him, they turned the love of his life against him. When he looked into Roman’s eyes, he saw nothing but sincerity. If they stayed and helped though, it just gave them more time to find ways to work out where the four of them had gone. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. He shook his head and extinguished the feeling of sympathy in his heart like a fire. He stood up without a word and walked towards Logan.

Logan grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving towards the open door, towards their freedom and stared at him with a look of disappointment making his eyes sparkle. Why was he stopping him? Did he not want this as much as he did? Janus would be fine… wouldn’t he? He raised an eyebrow at Logan, silently asking him to explain his actions, and Logan sighed heavily before uttering seven words that tore his heart in two.

“I thought you weren’t like them anymore.” Those words echoed in his mind and he knew he was right. He didn’t want to help them, but if he didn’t, this decision would break him over time. It would eat away at his conscious and it would ultimately destroy him. He looked at Thomas and Nico, they both nodded; agreeing with his already made decision.

“Alright. One of you go upstairs and grab my medicine bag out of the bathroom. Logan, you’ll need to take the lead here. You’re more experienced than me.” Nico ran upstairs and Logan kissed him on the cheek before running over to where Janus was lying on the sofa. Logan checked Janus’ airway as he heard Nico running back down the stairs. Virgil threw the bag at Logan who opened it up and grabbed out of few tools.

“Okay, Janus. You better be worth this.” Roman was already at Janus’ side watching Logan with suspicious but desperate eyes. As Virgil walked over ready to help Logan, but first he needed to grab a few things from behind the painting again… just in case they were needed. He rummaged around and smiled when he found what he was looking for before putting them into his hoodie pockets. He silently thanked Thomas and Nico for putting him in this hoodie.

He went to check on how Logan was doing with Janus, but he heard two loud gasps from behind him. He whipped his head around, this wasn’t good.

Remus had Thomas in a headlock, and Patton was somehow awake and holding Nico in a headlock as well. Virgil’s fists instinctively clenched up and he could feel the pain of his nails digging into his skin.

“Well, Virgil.” Patton chuckled menacingly.

“I guess I have a new deal for you.”

8 notes · View notes

joheun-saram · 4 years ago

Text

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 04

Chapter 4: Cigarette Confetti

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Y/N and Namjoon get closer as their relationship develops. Also, Y/N suddenly gets too many instagram followers

word count- 8.6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- unwanted sexual advances, discussion of mindset post unwanted advances, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m. receiving), hickeys

a.n- okay so this chapter is finally done! Thank you for your patience!! It took me a long time to write the scene with Mr Li because I had to pull from my own experience and that was uncomfy - but I hope you like it. Also, there’s a time skip so keep an eye out for that. Also also, can I just say I love writing this character of Namjoon lol this character is my ideal boyfriend material LMFAO.

Hey Alexa, can you fall in love with your own fictional character? Asking for a friend. Thanks.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut, @rjsmochii, @jinjccns, @joyful-jimin

Good morning, Y/N. Today you have four appointments on your calendar. Your first three appointments are as follows. At 7:30am, you have “Morning stand up with Harry (Cancelled)”, at 12:00pm, you have “Jiyoung Gala Update Lunch”, at 2:00pm, you have “Quarterly Sales Meeting”. The weather in Seoul today is 24 degrees and cloudy. Playing BTS on Spotify.

Namjoon wakes up with a start, Jimin’s airy vocals flowing through the room. He’s confused as to why someone in the dorm was playing their old album. About to scream at whoever (probably Taehyung) was playing the music, he opens his eyes to find your face next to his. It takes him a few seconds to realize where he is, and his face breaks into a goofy grin as he recalls the events of the night before. His arm was numb where you lay on it, your arms around his waist, legs tangled together and he traced his fingers on your side in an effort to wake you up.

He could see you stir as you groggily opened your eyes, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart race. He reached to stroke your face, as you hummed an apology and politely asked your alarm to be quiet. Seems that you were nice even to your robots.

“Sorry about that. Work day, you know?” you shrugged as you snuggled closer. Namjoon couldn’t help chuckle as you yawned into his bare chest that erupted in goosebumps at the sensation. He gently pulled your chin towards him to kiss you good morning. Your face was puffy with sleep, your cheeks squished where they lay on the pillows, and watching you was so adorable that he wanted to wake up next to you everyday.

“You play my music in the morning?” He was elated. Just like the night you met when you accidentally sang him his song, he felt his heart soar. The fact that you woke up everyday to the words he wrote made him not only happy but oddly motivated. It was like he wanted to just run out of bed and write another album so you could have more music to wake up to.

He watched your face turn red at his comment and he couldn’t help but capture your lips in another lazy kiss, his hand soothingly circling your back under your t-shirt, well, his t-shirt. He wanted you to know that there was nothing to be embarrassed by. If only you knew how his heart raced at the discovery.

“That… that’s for research… you know to get to know you?” you were stumbling over your words and he couldn’t help but pull you closer. You were so cute when you were bashful.

“Mhmm... sure...” He hummed, amused. Hey, just because he didn’t want you to feel awkward doesn’t mean that he couldn’t still tease you.

“Okay fine. I like your music okay? You’ve converted me to your cult.” You huffed, pouting your lips, and Namjoon burst out laughing.

“What’s your favourite song?”

“Is this a test?” You looked incredulous, as you looked up at him from the crook of his shoulder. Your hands were resting on his chest, and everywhere your fingers traced their aimless patterns left behind warmth under his skin.

“Hmm.. yes. You better get it right.” It wasn’t really a test, but Namjoon would be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly curious as to which song caught your eye.

“Can I google it?”

“Wait… you’re gonna google… what your favourite song is?” He had not expected this answer. He felt himself deflate a little, his smiling falling. He supposed you were a new fan, maybe you didn’t remember the title and wanted to look up the lyrics, but you could just ask him, he’d know better than google, surely.

“Yes. I’m gonna google which song you didn’t write and say that one cause your ego is getting too big for this bed.” You booped his nose as you burst out laughing, and he couldn’t stop himself from joining along, his earlier worries disappearing. You always surprised him, and it makes him crave what you’ll say next.

“You’re so evil!” he teased as he tickled your sides, making you laugh and roll around your bed. After a few minutes of your protests, he stopped, now positioned over you. Your eyes were beautiful as they look up at his, tears of mirth lining the corners and breathless from your laughter, and he couldn’t help but kiss you again, molding his lips to your soft ones. He loved that your arms automatically went around his waist as you pulled him closer and deepen the kiss, tracing your tongue with his. He kissed you like that for a few minutes, just relishing being in your presence. Your hands were resting on his chest now, thumbs grazing his nipples, making him shudder. It’s like everytime he kissed you, you put him under a spell and he wanted nothing more than to consume you. How was it that you smell like vanilla and flowers even in the morning? Did you just naturally smell like a fresh garden?

“Good morning” He whispered between his kisses, gazing at you softly.

“Good morning” you responded before closing the distance again and kissing him with passion. He could get used to this.

His hand moved under your shirt to cup your chest, rolling your nipple playfully as he continued to kiss you. Your moan went straight from your lips to his dick as he couldn’t help but roll his hips against yours, craving the friction. Your hands went from his chest to palming him over his boxers and the touch made him groan. He was so incredibly turned on and you had barely even touched him. You were going to be the death of him.

He let you carry on your ministrations as he kissed your neck, enjoying your mewls as he reached what he has realized is your sensitive spot, right where your neck meets your shoulder. He could see the marks he left last night and couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest. He shouldn’t be so turned on by the bruises he left, but he can’t help his kinks. It proved to him that he didn’t imagine last night.

He was slightly taken aback as you slipped your hand in his underwear and started stroking him. He moaned against your neck as pleasure shot through him.

“Want to make you feel good.” you murmured next to his ear, your kisses on his neck making him flush. “Lay back…” He wanted to let you but he wanted to make you feel good first, hear you screaming his name as he made you come undone. He one upped you by placing his own hand in your panties, groaning at how wet you were for him.

“You first.” He said, more sternly than he intended but he didn’t notice as you rut your hips against his hand. Your hand didn’t stopped stroking him and if he was honest it was making him lose his concentration. He removed his hand from your underwear, ignoring your whines, as he stilled your hand, pinning it over your head.

“No… I wanna taste you… Please?” You looked at him with your eyes wide and he was powerless to your pleading. He held his ground though, not letting you take control. Not until you mewled another please and pushed against his chest. He laid back against the pillows as you straddled him, kissing him deeply before making your way down his body. You kissed his chest leaving a light mark near his heart that made him sigh. He was sure that mark was deeper than it looks as his heart beat faster the closer you get to his dick. You kissed his belly before kissing down his clothed length making him groan deeply.

“Baby, stop teasing before I make you stop.” He was testing the waters, grinning when he saw you sit up immediately, biting your lip before pulling his boxers down to his thighs, following his orders. He hissed as you kissed his throbbing head, before immediately taking him in your mouth. It felt unbelievably good, your soft tongue lapping at his length as your cheeks hollow. He couldn’t take his eyes off you and almost lost it when you looked straight in his eyes, taking him as deep as you can. You moaned around him and the sensation made heat travel through his body. His hand found purchase in your hair as you bobbed on him, making him grunt loudly, losing his senses as he guided your head at a pace of his liking.

“Stop Y/N… stop… I’m gonna cum…” He moaned as he pulled your hair, a little too aggressively, making you whine around him. You released him with a loud pop.

“Cum in my mouth, baby” you were smirking at him as if you knew the effect you were having on him. Of course you knew, it was obvious by how loud he was breathing. His cock twitched in your hand at your comment, and he decided to let you have your fun, mentally noting to make you beg for him next time.

“Oh fuck… You’re so good to me baby” he panted as you once again started sucking him off. You were more enthusiastic this time, the sounds of your mouth ricocheting off the walls as you sucked him while your hand played with his balls, cupping them, making him see stars. He couldn’t take it anymore and with a loud grunt, he announced his end and felt his balls draining into your mouth. He watched from under his arm that rested on top of his face as you swallowed him, licking the remains off him as if he was the best popsicle you’ve tasted. It made him lose his mind, the sight making him moan softly.

You made your way back to him and as you laid on the pillows with a satisfied grin, he kissed you slowly, making sure you could feel his gratitude for what may have been the best blowjob he’s experienced.

“Sorry if I pulled your hair too hard.” He apologized as he stroked your head gently, one hand cupping your face.

“Don’t worry about it. I like it rough.” Although he had literally just cum, he felt the blood rush downwards again at your words.

“Fuck… You’re gonna kill me, you know?” He said as he kissed you again, fiercely, his hands ripping your panties off, relishing your gasp. He was determined to make you cum.

And he did, twice, once in bed and once in the shower.

As you were getting dressed in front of the mirror in your closet, he heard you gasp.

“Oh my god Joon! What the fuck?” Worriedly, he entered the closet, his jeans half undone and looked at you dressed in your pants and bra staring at yourself.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, as he moved closer to you.

“You animal! There’s like no concealer in the world to cover these!” You frowned, your mouth turning into a cute pout as you poke the hickeys that litter your neck and chest. He couldn’t help but smile at his handiwork as he hugged your waist from behind placing his head on your shoulder and kissing the mark on your neck.

“I’m sorry baby” His face however has no trace of apology as he grinned against your skin, feeling the blush that started at your neck.

“Fuck… I hate turtlenecks” you turned around in his arms, your hands going around his neck as you pouted at him exaggeratedly, and he wanted to go for another round. The power you had over him was overwhelming.

“I bet you look really good in a turtleneck.” He captured your lips in a soft kiss, smiling against your lips. He knew both of you had to get back to the real world soon but he just wanted to hole up in your room all day, all week, all year, just ravishing you.

You were interrupted by your phone ringing as you answered it on a speaker that rings through somewhere in your closet. He really has to ask you how many speakers you have in this place sometime.

“Hi, this is Y/N.” You spoke, your voice cold and formal and he was kind of taken aback by the change of your tone as you pushed his lips off your shoulder gently, still encircled in each other’s arms.

“Y/N! Are you okay? It’s 7:25… You’re never late!” He heard a familiar voice through the speaker although he couldn’t quite place it.

“Sorry Siwon! I’m feeling a bit unwell. I’m going to work from home this morning. I’ll come by around lunch for the meeting with Jiyoung though!” He brightened up at that comment, his grip around your waist tightening at the prospect of more time with you.

“Sick? Sure, sure… Tell Namjoon I said hi!” He watched your jaw drop as you awkwardly started coughing involuntarily. He kneould he shouldn’t but he can’t help tease you as a “Hey, man” escaped his lips, making you swat at him, signalling him to shut up.

“Oh shit. Am I on speaker?” Siwon audibly gasped into the phone and Namjoon burst out laughing, enjoying your reaction as you quickly bid goodbye.

“Okay, no coffee for you!” You huffed as you put on a t-shirt and make your way to the kitchen.

“Aww… babe!” Namjoon whined as he followed you, tugging his own shirt on to find you pouring steaming coffee into your mug. “Wait how did you make that so quick?”

He watched you smirk as you sipped on your coffee, making a show of how delicious it was, before you relented and pour him one.

“Magic.” You said smugly and he made a mental note to get you to teach him your tricks for his own house.

After breakfast, you spent the morning snuggling on the couch and reading the news, the easy domesticity of the moment not lost on Namjoon. Usually he wouldn’t even stay the night, but it seems like you made him break all the rules without even trying. He wondered why that was, why he was so drawn to you in such a short time. No one he had been with in the past made him feel this way, at least not only a week into knowing them.

“What are you thinking about?” you broke him out of his reverie. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring across the room. He didn’t know how much time had passed.

“This…” He gestured between the two of you, watching your eyes follow his hand from where your head rested against his chest.

“What? You’ve never read the news before?” You pointed at the iPad that the two you were meant to be reading from.

“You know what I mean…” He trailed off rubbing his neck, unsure why he even began the conversation. He should’ve just lied and said something funny.

“Sorry… I tend to use humour when I’m uncomfortable...” You got up from where you were leaning against him to sit upright on the couch, gaze averted.

“You’re uncomfortable?” His eyes widened as he tried to figure out why. Sure this all seemed to move way too fast, but you seemed to have found a rhythm with him this morning. He was slightly panicked that he had misread that. The thought that being around him made you uncomfortable made his heart drop to his knees.

“No… and that makes me uncomfortable” He watched you as you fiddled with the rips in your jeans. Your answer made him relax, pushing aside some of his worries. Knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling lost with this new found comfort was oddly calming.

“I know what you mean. This seems… too easy, right?” He reached over to stop your fidgeting hands.

“Yeah… but I’m no expert. My last relationship was like three years ago” You shrugged.

“What happened? I mean… if you want to tell me”

“Yeah… it just didn’t work out. I was too busy for him sometimes and he couldn’t understand. He blamed me for not prioritizing our relationship. I was just starting out though… it was… hard” Your smiled at him sheepishly, a little melancholy behind your eyes, that made him want to hug it away.

“I get that. I had a lot of relationships that ended up the same way.” He thought about all his past partners, all the fights that led to nowhere because he couldn’t find time in his schedule to even resolve them. All the times he would receive an angry text and not be able to respond till hours later which only exacerbated the problems. All his exes that told him he was too self-centered, too narcissistic for focusing on his career, and for a long time he believed them, the guilt kept him up nights on end.

“Koren dating is also harder than Canadian dating,” you joked. He could sense you were trying to lighten the mood again, and he intertwined your fingers where they rested on your knee, before playing along.

“Wow… did you just stereotype my entire country?”

“Oops?” You chuckled lightly, your eyes brightening as you shrugged. “What about your last relationship?”

“It was about a year ago. We worked together, but we didn’t work together. There wasn’t really a reason. It just kind of… fizzled out. Although I think I was to blame.” He didn’t know how you’d react to this and he rubbed his neck nervously.

“Why do you say that?” You leaned closer, and he could surprisingly feel his nerves melting away at your proximity.

“I just would forget to keep her updated on my life. I know it sounds terrible.”

“Nah. It just sounds human. You weren’t in love.” His eyes widened at your response. He knew now that what he felt then wasn’t love but in the moment he had thought she was the one. Well, until she wasn’t.

“I thought I was” He admitted with a shrug.

“I don’t think you’d forget her if you were.” You were looking at him now, smiling slightly, your eyes shining as your thumb rubbed soothing circles on his. Somehow again, you had managed to sound poetic without meaning to - he didn’t know how you managed to do that so easily.

“I guess you’re right. Fuck… this is weird.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not usually this honest.”

“Wow. Must be the veritaserum I slipped in your drink.” You laughed as you reached to gently put your hand on his shoulder. He enjoyed the touch, it somehow made him feel safe. Safe to share his secrets.

“Is that a Harry Potter reference, you dork?” He could feel the mood lightening again and he realized that your ability to seamlessly switch from uncomfortable topics to humour was at least a part of the reason he felt so comfortable in your presence.

“I’m glad you trust me enough to be honest.” Your hand moved from his shoulder to rest against his cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Honestly, I think it’s because of you.” He watched your face turn to confusion, so he continued. ”You being so upfront makes me wanna do the same. Why are you so honest with me?”

“Because there’s no reason for us to continue this if we can’t be honest.” You smiled softly as you shrugged lightly, still stroking his cheek, and he felt his heart fill with warmth. “I’ve spent too much of my life pretending to be someone else for people to like me. So I’m testing my theory. If I’m honest with you and you like me, maybe this thing is worth it.”

“I do like you.” He really did. He hadn’t felt this strong a connection in a while. Someone who understood him without pretending to, or trying to appease him. Someone he could talk about the good and bad without judgement.

“You haven’t seen all the warts yet.” You averted your gaze, and he couldn’t help but cup your face and make you look at him.

“I’ve seen you naked, you don’t have any warts.” He tried your approach at humour as he kissed you on the nose.

“You are so cheesy!” You swat at him gently before kissing him lightly on the lips. He felt his heart skip a beat at the small gesture. “But seriously, thank you for being so open with me.” You looked at him adoringly, and he mirrored you.

He kissed you at that. Both of you enjoying the chaste kiss without deepening it. The conversation helped you both feel less uncomfortable with the comfortable.

His phone rang, interrupting the sweet moment, his manager asking where to send the car so he wouldn’t be late for the meeting that morning. Before leaving, you made plans to meet up again that weekend, and Namjoon felt that three days was too long without seeing you. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t even left your apartment yet and he already missed you.

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

When you reached the restaurant for lunch with Jiyoung that afternoon, you still had a smile on your face. It seemed to have been permanently etched on your face since Namjoon left. You thought about your date and how it seemed to have been a thousand dates rolled into one. It felt like you’ve known him forever, and barring from Jiyoung, you hadn’t felt that way about a person before. Someone you connected with instantly, someone whose presence made you immediately calmer. He seemed to have crashed all the walls around you in a very short time and although that thought should scare you, it instead made you excited.

Spotting Jiyoung at a table you made your way across the restaurant to her, greeting her and the server, an old woman in her 60s, most likely the owner, that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. After ordering your entrees, your best friend and PR manager jumped right into business.

“So you’re famous. Congrats!” She did a little dance as she announced the news.

“What?” You were confused. Last you checked you had 2000 followers on your social media, which was run by Jiyoung and Siwon, on account of you being a “boomer” - their words, not yours.

“After the gala, a couple of magazines, courtesy of me, decided to do a piece on you. So congrats on your 200k followers!” She seemed giddy, excitedly jumping up and down as she clapped along. That was quite a follower growth and it led to her going into a twenty minute strategy talk on how to leverage your personal brand for the company. You were glad that she was excited, but if you were being honest you hated the limelight. The idea that someone’s “fame” could be decided by the number of likes of a photo posing at a restaurant made your skin crawl.

“Okay so we’re going to schedule a photoshoot sometime in the next two weeks and take a few photos for the next few months of uploads. Of course, make sure to take photos every time you go somewhere fun too, like I don’t know, one of your concerts you’re obsessed with or art galleries.” Jiyoung continued regardless of your groans.

“Do I have to?” You truly did not have time for this, your schedule is already overflowing. The whole idea of curating a feed made you feel stressed.

“Yes. It’s the game, Y/N. You have to play it” She replied sagely, as she slurped her noodles.

“You know all the photos will be of me holed up at the office. I’m not that interesting...” You played with your food as you pouted. Your comment wasn’t born out of low self-esteem, it’s just what you believed. Regardless of the media perceptions of the glamorous life of a CEO, you knew that at the end of the day most you did was sleep, attend meetings, and drink copious amounts of coffee. Occasionally you dabbled in your hobbies, but with the company and non-profit growing at the speed they were, there was barely any time for that. You doubted you’d be able to enjoy any of the fun till after quite a few more years when the title will become less heavy and you’d have more help.

“Don’t be stupid! You, my friend, are a young, fun, single woman! The world deserves to be envious of it!” Jiyoung dismissed you easily, shaking her hand at your protests. “Speaking of fun, let’s go clubbing Saturday, it’s been too long since you got laid.”

As soon as she finished her sentence you felt heat rise up your face, unconsciously bringing your hand up to your turtleneck covered neck. To make matters worse, your throat also decided now to work at that moment, making you choke on your rice.

“Oh my god! You minx! You got laid didn’t you?” Jiyoung loudly exclaimed, much to your dismay and of the other patrons who seemed peeved at hearing your bedroom adventures while they ate lunch.

“Please stop…” You looked around awkwardly apologizing to the old man next to you who looked at you with disgust. Great!

“Who was it? Where did you meet? Tinder? Did you go to a club without me? Was it a client?” The questions were endless.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone, not a soul.” You were going to regret this, you knew it, but you’d be lying if it didn’t excite you to share the news with Jiyoung. She was your favourite female friend and even though on the outside, your friendship may seem mismatched to some, she truly understood you better than most people. She had been there when your last relationship ended, coaxing you back to your feet after weeks of self-destruction. You trusted her.

“Did you sleep with a married man?” She whispered, thankfully finally aware that you two were in the middle of a popular restaurant during peak lunch hours.

“Umm… no. Do you remember Namjoon from the party?” Namjoon from the party? Good job, real subtle Y/N.

“Namjoon?” You watched as realization dawned on her face, her face going from being scrunched in confusion, to wide eyed surprise, to what it is now; a smug smile. “I was wondering why your Spotify showed you suddenly listening to BTS…”

“Okay you can’t make fun of that too!” you whined, your morning faux pas still too fresh in your mind, as you buried your face in your hands.

“He made fun of you?” Jiyoung was cackling, before she started digging for details. “Man after my own soul! So was he good? When are you seeing him again? Are you dating him? Oh my god this is so exciting!” She is fully squealing and slapping your arm, making you wince.

“He was… amazing” you tell her your face flaring at the memories of last night. “And we’re going on another date.”

“Ooo date number two!”

“Well… technically four if you count the party?”

“Okay. What the fuck? You’ve been holding out on me! Spill!”

And so you do, sharing your interactions with Namjoon over the past week. It felt nice to reminisce about them, even though it was not that long ago. You were so into him, it was worrying. You were beyond excited to see him again, but your last conversation still weighed in your head. He was right. It just felt too easy, how you had met, and seemingly couldn’t get enough of each other. You were suspicious.

“Stop overthinking this, Y/N. It’s good that things are easy! You deserve easy!” Jiyoung cut through your rant. You had almost forgotten that you were speaking out loud.

“It’s not just me, he feels the same way.” You pouted, trying to defend your stance.

“Then you both belong together with your stupid ass overthinking.”

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

Y/N: Thanks for dinner tonight. I had a really good time.

Namjoon: Me too!

Namjoon: Speaking of, when can I see you again?

Y/N: Wow. We’ve barely digested our food, Joon

Namjoon: You’re mean! I just like hanging out with you

Y/N: I’m kidding! Tuesday?

Namjoon: Suddenly I love Tuesdays

Y/N: Shut up you dork!

Namjoon: Says the girl obsessed with Batman

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

Y/N: What the hell! How do you do photoshoots all the time. This is CRINGE.

Namjoon: Is that today? Yes! SEND ME THE PICTURES!!!!

Y/N: Fuck no. These are so awkward!

Namjoon: Come on! Send! I bet you look hot ;)

Y/N: Nope. Never. Never. NEVER.

Namjoon: I’ll just text Jiyoung for them

Y/N: You don’t even have her number

Y/N: Do you?

Y/N: KIM NAMJOON ANSWER ME

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

Namjoon: Did I leave my phone at your place last night?

Y/N: I don't think so

Namjoon: I can’t believe I lost my phone again!!!

Y/N: Wait how are you texting me right now?

Namjoon: … nvm

Y/N: Omg. You're an idiot.

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

Y/N: Okay that hike was harder than you said it’d be!

Y/N: I’m dying :(

Namjoon: Aw baby. I’m sorry!

Y/N: You owe me. You’re paying for my masseuse

Namjoon: Why pay for one when I’m better than any you’ll ever get?

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

Y/N: I miss you :(

Namjoon: I miss you too

Y/N: Come over?

Namjoon: I have to wake up at 6 for a shoot :(

Y/N: I wake up at 6 every day

Namjoon: On my way

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

Namjoon: How’s work going?

Y/N: Terrible :) I hate my life :)

Namjoon: You’re scary when you send emojis like that

Y/N: Wow. Thank you. You’re so nice to me.

Namjoon: Sorry!

Namjoon: What’s stressing you?

Y/N: Just deadlines… SO MANY DEADLINES

Namjoon: Aw baby. Have you eaten? I can come by with food

Y/N: Aren’t you busy? You have your comeback in a few months

Namjoon: Nah. I got the rest of the day off

Y/N: That’s… suspicious... Why?

Namjoon: I’m at the hospital

Y/N: WTF. I’m calling. Pick up.

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

You checked yourself out in the reflective elevator doors, as you helped Harry adjust his tie, while Siwon rattled on about the restaurant you were headed to. Harry and you had been dodging your “celebratory” drinks with Mr Li for over a month and a half since the meeting where he signed the contract. He finally trapped you both during a networking event last week and had you set the date. To say you were both very much not looking forward to this evening would be an understatement. It took every ounce of willpower in you to stay as you made your way to your private table at the high end Japanese restaurant.

Mr Li, as per usual, was late to the dinner he had forced upon you. Sitting next to Harry, you both tried to devise a plan to escape as soon as possible. As soon as dinner ended, Harry was going to pretend that Jen was ill and since he was your ride back, you both had no choice but to “begrudgingly” end the night. The idea was foolproof, or so the both of you thought.

Here is a list of reasons why it was not foolproof.

One, upon arrival, Mr Li ordered shots for the table and after Harry used the excuse that he was driving you both home (you wanted to set it up so it wouldn’t be a surprise as you left), Mr Li got excited that you would be his new drinking buddy. He poured shot after shot, even after you mentioned that you were going to get a drink - hoping to rely on your ice tea in a whiskey glass trick - he refused to let you not drink anything other than shots of sake. Usually, you wouldn’t let someone dictate your drinking but you didn’t want to seem rude, and so you played along till you felt much too tipsy.

Two, Mr Li requested your server to stagger the dinner courses since it was a “night of partying” and as the third course of sashimi was served, he took the liberty of sitting next to you because apparently your fish looked fresher. He then proceeded to steal from your plate while making uncomfortable eye contact with you and putting his gross hands on your thigh. When you removed his hand from your thigh he had the audacity to suggest that you were playing hard to get. The urge to vomit had never been stronger.

Three, and this is where everything falls apart. When at the end of dinner, the lovely Jen calls to bail you and Harry out, Mr Li insists that Harry drives back alone and that he drives you home. Somehow, you both had not thought of this very basic flaw in your plan. With you running out of excuses, it was soon evident that you had no choice but to stay. You knew Harry, and you knew that he would call no less than ten minutes later with an emergency on your own or get Siwon out of bed to run to you. He would rescue you, you had faith. In the meantime you had to endure a drunk Mr Li trying to hit on you.

Time seemed to move slow as he drunkenly asked you if you had a boyfriend. Knowing his misogynistic self, you should’ve lied and said yes, the only thing he would probably understand would be that another man had a claim on you, but your tipsy self thought honesty was the best policy. As soon as you said no, it seemed that he took it as an invite, pulling you into an awkward hug, grabbing at your ass, trying to lift you to his seat. His movements were so swift that it left you momentarily paralyzed. You felt ice in your veins as the intense feeling of your personal space being so blatantly violated took over you. It felt as if a million ants were crawling under your skin, your stomach turning. You tried to get out of his grip but it was too strong, as he continued to massage your behind. You felt trapped, your mouth running dry, as anger took over. You were done being polite.

With a strong shove, you stood up from your seat and grabbed your jacket as you looked at him straight in the eye, hoping your glare was enough to get the message across. It was not.

“Come on Y/N. I signed such a big contract for you the least you could do is suck me off.” He stared at you sleazily, the liver spot above his eyebrow moving up and down as he wagged them.

“I’m sorry Mr Li, but this is very inappropriate. I’m going to leave.” You were nicer than your instincts were telling you to be. If he wasn’t your client, you would have already kicked him in the balls or better yet broken his nose, although knowing this creep, he’d probably have a kink for it.

“You’re a fucking bitch you know that?” He spat, his words filled with venom.

“Excuse me?” Each moment that you stayed in this room, made you angrier, the rage pumping itself through you, ringing in your ears.

“You think you’re successful because you’re smart? Don’t kid yourself, Y/N. Everyone knows that your clients only sign because they think you’ll fuck them.” He scoffed.

You knew if you stayed there longer, you would surely ruin this contract for your company, if not get sued for punching his ugly little face in so you grabbed your phone and bag and made your way out of the restaurant, tossing a curt goodbye his way.

Your vision was dark as you made your way through the streets. You were so enraged you were shaking. You knew what would fix this. Cigarettes. Without a second thought you made your way into the nearest convenience store, grabbing a bottle of soju and a pack, before walking to your favourite place - the rooftop of your office building.

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

You sat at the roof, contemplating the earlier events, the cigarette pack in hand. You hated how you felt in this moment. Powerless. There was no other word for it. You hated feeling small and insignificant. You had built your life up in a way that ensured you wouldn’t have to deal with these feelings but here you were at almost midnight, searching the faint stars in the sky for serenity.

Anger coursed through your veins as you tried to steel yourself, fists clenching hard enough for red semicircles to be engraved on your palms. Sometimes you hated being a woman. What gave anyone the right to dismiss your hard work and accomplishments because they valued your tits more. You were coursing with negativity, your mouth tasting of poison, as you chugged the soju. You still felt his slimy hands on your ass and his words echoed through your mind. If only your deal was not at stake you would’ve kicked him so hard in the balls, he’d never be able to reproduce. The world is much too beautiful to have his offsprings tainting it.

You usually don’t let these things affect you as much. It’d be a lie to say these moments were few and far in between. In fact, they took place more often than you’d like to remember. The amount of men who had dismissed you or called you being a CEO a great “marketing move in today’s PC world” was astronomical. You would usually brush them off and pretend they never happened, never letting it affect you, but something about the way he sneered made you so vulnerable that for a minute you let your guard down and believed him.

“You think you’re successful because you’re smart? Don’t kid yourself, Y/N. Everyone knows that your clients only sign because they think you’ll fuck them.” You snapped a cigarette in half, watching the contents sprinkle out of the white casing as you rolled it in your fingers and coaxed a bigger mess. You tossed it across the floor, watching the wind pick up the light scraps and scatter them around like confetti. What a great celebration, you thought as you rolled your eyes.

“Y/N…?” you heard Namjoon call from behind you.

You regretted messaging him after your dinner. You didn’t even know why you had told him. He was not your boyfriend, technically he wasn’t even your friend. You had only gone on a few dates, and although you felt closer to him than you had anybody you had dated in a long while, you were not ready for him to see you this way. It had barely been over a month and a half. You didn’t feel confident enough to face him. The Y/N he knew was the successful, flirty, witty version you had worked hard to portray. You don’t know how he would react to this self-hating mess of you. Maybe he’d run away. You deserved that much. Hell, maybe he didn’t even buy the version you showed him, only here for the tits. You were bitter.

“I’m sorry you came all this way. I’m fine, you can go home.” You couldn’t face him - not in this state. You stared at your hands, deepening the crescents on your palm as if willing the skin to break. You saw his shoes in front of you, unlaced blue Nikes, attached to blue striped pajama pants with cartoon koalas. Had you forced him to get out of bed? You felt a bubble of guilt rise within your chest. You were such a shitty person to bring him into this. He deserved better than to be on a cold rooftop on a Friday night in the middle of his comeback preparations.

You were ready to ask him leave again as you heard him settle next to you. You looked up at his face, his eyes softened with concern behind his wide rimmed glasses as he sat crossed leg, his hands in his lap. You opened the pack to grab another cigarette, snapping it in half again and tossing it half heartedly across the floor. You felt defeated, the emotional exhaustion of the night weighing on your shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.

“I don’t know,” you said, matching his volume. There was no one here and it’s not like anyone could hear you off of this fifty storey building, but somehow you only had the strength to whisper.

“Take your time” he answered. He looked like he meant it. He sat there looking at you, giving you space. His phone buzzed a few times and he ignored it. Instead, he just patiently looked at you, his face neutral for what felt like hours.

Somehow his patience gave you courage to open up, and you told him the events of the night. He never interrupted, or even moved. The only way you’d know he was not suddenly a statue was by the way his jaw slowly tensed as you got to the reason you were so upset, all your doubts and insecurities filling the air in a tumble of fast spoken words.

“I don’t even know why this is making me so angry. It is not like this is the first time this has happened to me.” You chuckled dryly as you looked up at him. He looked angry and you felt nervous. Perhaps you shared too much. You wouldn’t blame him for getting angry at how stupid your reason was for getting him out of bed.

“What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. You were surprised at his question. This was the first time he spoke since you started talking about twenty minutes ago.

“Why?”

“I’m going to kill him.” He said flatly, eye ablaze and jaw set.

“Joon…” you trailed, unsure what to say. He wasn’t unjustified in his threat. On your way to the roof, you yourself had devised about a thousand ways to get away with murder.

“No. He’s an asshole and I’m going to kill him for making you feel this way.” He looked less angry now, and more upset, sighing as he looked at you. You chuckled humorlessly. His comment made you feel better, made you feel less alone and stupid for wanting to take your anger out at the perpetuator. At least you’d have someone to carry the body with if you decided to act on your homicidal fantasies.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asked tentatively, his hand reached towards you as he turned looking at you closely. as if worried you might snap at him.

“Joon, you don’t have to ask,” you murmured as you scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He reacted immediately, pulling you into him tightly, his chin over your head. Your face was pressed against his chest and you inhaled his woodsy scent, feeling instantly more calm.

“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. A man touched you without your permission and I didn’t know how you felt about being close to another today.” He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head. Your heart instantly warmed, tears pricking your eyes. No one had ever been this considerate to you before, so respectful. The fact that he thought you might feel uncomfortable around him just because of that asshole made your heart break. You pushed out of the hug and cupped his face.

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to that asshole.” You were angry that not only did that sorry excuse for a man made you feel small, he made Namjoon feel like you wouldn’t want him.

“And don’t you dare feel like you’re not worthy because of that asshole.” He kissed your forehead gently before bringing you into another bone-crushing hug, momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs. His words made you feel warm, and brought a lump to your throat. It felt oddly cathartic to have the man you had come to admire tell you you were enough. You felt the tears you had been holding in all night escape slowly. You held him tighter as his t-shirt became your makeshift tissue, silently crying for what felt like hours while he stroked your hair gently.

When you could talk again without your voice breaking, you broke the embrace. His shirt was stained with your tears and mascara, and suddenly you felt very awkward for your blatant display of emotions.

“I’m sorry I called you here so late,” you apologized sheepishly, realizing how late it was and how silly you felt for making him jump out of bed.

“Please don’t apologize. I’m glad you called me.” He wiped your face of the tears that had failed to be absorbed by the t-shirt, smiling slightly as he leaned in to give you another peck on your forehead.

“You’re in your pajamas,” you pointed out, laughing slightly, wanting to remove some of the awkwardness you felt at having bawled in front of him for so long.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting for too long.” He shrugged, giving you a smile that melted your heart. You had realized this before but it dawned on you again that to you Namjoon was comfort. He was like a warm blanket to cozy under in a cool room, keeping the monsters at bay.

You reached out and kissed him, slowly pulling him in by his shirt, avoiding his glasses as you tilted your head. The kiss was gentle - it was sweet and warm. Unlike the passionate ones you had shared before, ones that would light you on fire, this was comfortable, like a bonfire rather than a forest fire. His lips were chapped against yours and his tongue tasted like toothpaste as he smiled against your lips.

“You didn’t smoke!” He exclaimed when you separated, pulling you into another hug, his arms around your head. The pride in his voice made you laugh.

“I told you, I don’t smoke anymore,” you commented as you grinned against his chest.

“Then what’s the pack for?” He seemed puzzled.

“Oh… I was going to but I didn’t want to break my two year streak.” You shrugged. He beamed at you as he pulled you in for another kiss, taking his time to taste you. It felt like he was savouring you, his fingers tangled in your hair on the nape of your neck and his other hand placed gently on your waist.

When you came up for air he giggled, his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you for not breaking your streak,” he said, making your cheeks flare at his sincerity. “Let’s get you home.”

“Do you want to walk instead of grabbing a cab?”

“Always.” He held your hand as you both stand up and make your way downstairs.

You noticed him shivering slightly as you exited the building and it finally dawned on you that he was dressed in just a t-shirt. It was not the middle of winter but it was certainly too chilly for not wearing a sweater. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in your chest as you were currently dressed in not one but two sweaters. Stopping him, you took off your oversized sweater and handed it to him.

“What are you doing?” He looked at you, confused as you pushed the sweater in his hands.

“You seem cold.”

“That’s supposed to be my move.” He laughed.

“Hey I’m wearing like two sweaters! Plus, I feel bad about dragging you out here and forcing you to walk.” You looked at your shoes, suddenly feeling shy.

“Don’t feel bad, baby.” He lifted your chin up to place a quick peck on your lips after looking around to make sure no one's walking by on the deserted street. “Also, I don’t think this will fit me.” He chuckled, pushing his frames further up his nose.

“It’s oversized! Just try it, you’re shivering!”

“I’m an oversized human!” He exclaimed but started to put his arms through the sleeves. The sweater looked hilariously small on his frame, even with only one sleeve on. As he zipped it up, it resembled a rashguard more than a sweater, his t-shirt flaring out from the bottom, the material straining against his arms and back. The stress of the night washed away as you doubled over in laughter, your face streaking with new joyous tears at the sight.

“See I told you it was too small!” He grinned sheepishly.

“This is amazing, you look great Joonie” you managed to wheeze out in between your laughter.

At that he took your hand and walked the ten blocks to your apartment. The night was filled with a comfortable silence broken only by little musings as you both took in the quiet surroundings of the financial district after hours. As you neared your street, Namjoon broke the silence once again.

“Why did you message me tonight?” His voice was contemplative, as his thumb grazed yours.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have” You earlier guilt was surfacing again, as you thought about why you told him what happened when usually the first person you’d tell in this situation would be Jiyoung or Harry.

“I told you - I’m glad you did. I was just curious why.”

“I… I don’t know. You’re the first person I wanted to see.” You sighed, getting uncomfortable with the line of questioning. You didn’t want him to ask why he was the first person you thought of because you weren’t ready to be even more vulnerable tonight, not ready to admit the space he had made in your heart over the last month. He was quiet for a few moments, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as if he were solving a complex math problem, before he spoke.

“Do you remember when I sprained my wrist and had to go to the hospital a few weeks ago?” You didn’t expect this subject change, but gladly welcomed it.

“Yeah…”

“Well… you’re the first person I wanted to see then too. I mean before I knew it was just a sprain and I was panicking.” He squeezed your hand in his as you both exited the elevator on to your hallway, and looked at you, his gaze soft. “What do you think that means?”

“That we’re even?” You smiled, hoping to break this unknown tension that had come between you all of a sudden as you stopped at your door. You fumbled with your keycode, having to enter the password twice before making your way inside, Namjoon following behind you, as you both slipped out of your shoes and into slippers. Before you could leave the entryway, he gently held on your elbow to stop you, fixing you with another one of his soft gazes and a smile that made your heart flutter.

“I was thinking it means that you’re my girlfriend.” You could hear your heart rev up as you looked at him for any signs of teasing. There were none. Usually you would respond back with something along the lines of him never asking, but with the night you had just had all you could think about was how happy you were to finally call him yours. Without further hesitation you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him into a kiss, which after a little surprise, he returned. It was reminiscent of the first time you had kissed, but this time instead of awkward butterflies, your heart was filled with a comfortable glow. His lips were familiar against yours and his scent wrapped your senses in a warm cocoon.

“Mmm… Boyfriend.” you said against his lips, grinning, as he kissed you again, his hands under your thighs as he lifted you and carried you to bed, surprisingly avoiding bumping into the doorframe this time.

That night as you slept under the projected milky way on your ceiling with his breath tickling your ear as he snored lightly, you felt yourself give Namjoon a part of your heart you had hidden away for a very long time.

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

previous | masterlist | next

#bts fanfic #rm x reader #rm smut #rm fluff #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts namjoon #namjoon x you #namjoon smut #bts fic #bts x reader #bts rm scenario #bts namjoon scenario #bts x y/n #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan

154 notes · View notes

cadence-talle · 4 years ago

Text

Moonlight Burst Into the Room

Pairing: Marella Redek/Linh Song

Wordcount: 2,203

TW: mentions of transphobia

Notes: For @marellinh-week-2020! Doesn’t totally fit any of the prompts besides First Kiss/Confession so let’s just pretend I posted it then instead of several days late

Taglist: @everyonehasthoughts, @clearlykeefitz, @loverofallthingssmart, @a-lonely-tatertot, @enbies-and-felonies, @molly-sencen, @lemontarto, @appalyneinstitute1, @ruewen-and-rising, @silver-snow, @linhamon-roll, @hyperlollypop, @never-ever-too-many-fandoms, @keeper-of-the-lost-queers, @impostertamsong, @vibing-in-the-void, @yeetersofthelostcities, @mistythegirlfluxmess, @diamond-dreamerr, @we-have-no-bananas-today, @an-absolute-travesty, @callas-starkflower-stew

Linh has never had a nickname.

When she was younger, still living with her parents, names were a point of frustration. Her parents never used pet names, which meant they always referred to her by her given name- the wrong name. Always the wrong name, until Linh had to tell them to stop.

(That conversation was quiet, hushed, like her parents couldn’t quite believe it. They had simply stared at her when she said I’m a girl and then shared a long look.)

Her parents had called her Linh from then on, but it still felt strictly impersonal. As if a wall of water had sprung up between them and drowned any hope of parental affection.

Once they were banished, names were hardly ever used. Elves at Exillium weren’t considered to have names; they were referred to in a group or not at all. So Linh grew accustomed to turning at a simple shout, to only hearing her name spoken by her brother. Lonely? Sure, but at least she didn’t have to hear that disappointed sigh of Linh whenever she messed up.

(The way Tam said her name wasn’t disappointed, not ever. But it was resigned, like he knew he was the only one who would ever say it. Like he had come to terms with the fact that they were going to fade into oblivion.)

Then Sophie turned up and ushered them into her friend group, into warmth and belonging and people talking to Linh. People saying her name.

Sophie’s group didn’t use nicknames much- besides Keefe, of course, who seemed to be in a competition against himself to come up with the most ridiculous titles for Sophie- but just hearing her name said in a way that told Linh people wanted her here was enough.

And then Marella Redek becomes a bigger part of Linh’s life, her fiery temper charging into arguments and her endless vocabulary of pet names filling the air, and Linh doesn’t know what to do with herself.

-/-

“Hey, sweetheart, could you grab me that box?”

Linh turns just in time to see Dex hand Marella the small wooden box in question with a confused look. The blond girl grins at him and opens the box, digging through its contents. “Ooh, a necklace! And… Prattles?”

She holds up the package for all to see. The three of them are the only kids at Havenfield today- the others are all off on various errands. Even Sophie’s out in Atlantis, shopping with Biana. Linh doesn’t mind much, though, even as they embark on the laborious task of sorting through the stuff in Edaline’s cluttered office. She’s still marveling at the fact that she has friends now.

“They’re probably really stale by now,” Dex says. Marella shrugs, ripping off the top and popping a candy into her mouth. She makes a face.

“Oh, ew. Why did you two let me eat that?”

Linh giggles and Marella smiles at her. There’s a strange flush on the other girl’s cheeks, and Linh wonders if you can get sick from eating old Prattles. She hopes not.

“He did warn you,” Linh points out. Marella puts a hand over her heart in mock insult.

“Betrayal! I thought we were friends, sweetie.”

Linh shrugs nonchalantly, trying to hide the warmth she can feel creeping up her neck. Marella does this all the time, she reminds herself, and Linh just needs to get used to it. “Sorry. All’s fair in lov- in war and stale Prattles.”

Dex snorts, shooting Linh a knowing look. Linh blinks and he shakes his head. “We should get back to cleaning. Marella, put the Prattles down.”

Marella, who is apparently a three-year-old in the body of a fifteen-year-old, shoves two more Prattles into her mouth and pockets the drawstring bag that holds the pin. Dex rolls his eyes and turns to a huge green chest. Marella nudges Linh’s ankle with her foot.

“You know, hon, this stuff really isn’t bad. You wanna try?” She holds out the box.

Linh shakes her head and Marella puts the package away. Linh’s thoughts, though, can’t be dislodged so easily, and the word hon echoes in her mind for the rest of the day.

-/-

The transition from Exillium to Foxfire was a hurried one, a few busy days of reading schedules and getting used to being around normal people again. It felt almost too fast in the moment, too quick for even the little they were leaving behind.

Linh has left a lot of things behind in her life. She doesn’t miss them most of the time, but on days like this- days where it’s quiet and cool and the winds whipping past her sound eerily like the whispers in her head- it’s hard not to remember.

She wanders outside of Solreef, settling down under a tree where she won’t be directly visible from the house. The grass around her is still slightly damp with dew, and Linh tugs a few blades out of the ground to fiddle with.

Tiergan’s house is very different from anywhere she’s ever lived. The rooms are large and sprawling but still cozy, perhaps made so by the various pillows and classified scrolls that are scattered across nearly every surface. It’s not the rugged landscape of Wildwood nor the smoothed edges of Choralmere, and Linh is glad. Things are calm here, but not so calm she’s afraid to walk on anything but tiptoe.

She broke a vase, once. One of her mother’s heirlooms. Tam had been chasing her through the house and Linh hadn’t had a chance to slow down in time. Quan had shouted louder than she had ever heard, too angry to even call Linh by the right name.

It’s been years since that event, but the disappointment still presses on Linh’s skin. Covers her like a heavy blanket woven from sad sighs and ignorant comments and constant dissatisfied looks. The idea that Linh would never be enough.

Will never be enough, no matter what she does.

(There have been too many conversations for her to ever disprove that.)

“Linh?”

Abruptly, Linh realizes she hasn’t been breathing. She breaks away from the fixed point she’s been staring at and pastes a smile on her face.

“Marella! Hey, sorry, I must have forgotten you were coming today.”

“You didn’t,” the blond girl responds, sinking down next to Linh. “I wanted to surprise you. Are you okay?”

“What? I’m fine. Why?”

Marella gives her an utterly unimpressed look.

“Hon. You looked about five seconds away from crying when I showed up. And that’s not a bad thing,” she hurries to add when Linh opens her mouth to apologize. “I just want to help, if I can.”

“I-” Linh trails off, staring at the ground. “I was just thinking. About… stuff. Names. Memories.”

“Huh.” Marella doesn’t press, which Linh is thankful for. “Names can be weird sometimes,” she says carefully, turning to face Linh. “My mom- on her better days, she calls me Ella.”

Linh blinks. “I thought you didn’t like being called Ella.” Marella had almost taken Keefe’s head off when he had called her that once. Marella shrugs.

“I don’t know. It’s different when Mom does it. It tells me… she’s there, I guess. She’s there and she loves me.” Marella worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s hard to see, sometimes. What she’s going to do. What I’m supposed to do when she gets frantic or starts crying.”

“I get that. Well. Not the ‘frantic and crying’ part, but I get not knowing what to do.”

Marella smiles, a tiny, crooked thing. “I thought you would, sweetie.”

Linh turns back to the landscape, staring out at it. Next to her, Marella shifts so she’s facing the same direction. Her eyes are still fixed on Linh, though. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the sweetie, but Linh speaks up a few moments later.

“My parents… didn’t always remember to call me Linh.” She says, testing the waters. Marella’s head inclines a tiny bit, encouraging her to go on.

So Linh does. She tells the whole story, all those lonely years in Choralmere and then the too-free years in Wildwood. She’s never had to tell anyone that before- Tam has always known, and neither of them needed to say it out loud.

When she finishes, Marella is silent. Linh worries she’s made a huge mistake.

“Sorry,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to- I mean, I know this changes-”

“Hey, darling.” Marella shifts to sit on her knees in front of Linh, leaning forward and grabbing her hands. “This doesn’t change anything, okay. I mean, obviously it does,” she says thoughtfully, “but you’re still Linh, okay? You’re still Linh and you’re still beautiful. And I totally understand if you don’t want me to make a big deal out of this, but if you do, I happen to throw legendary parties.”

Linh laughs, a half-choked sound of relief. Marella settles back against the tree with a grin and they stare at the horizon again.

“Thanks,” Linh says after a moment. Marella gives her a thumbs-up.

“What are friends for, right?”

“Yeah.” Yeah, Linh reminds herself. Friends.

-/-

“Whoa. Hon, look at this.” Marella pulls a tiny marble out of a box, glittering pale yellow and about the size of her thumbnail. Linh would almost mistake it for a Councillor’s cache if it weren’t for the absence of tiny jewels inside.

They’re back in Edaline’s office, digging through piles of junk, but this time it’s just the two of them. Linh is halfway sure that’s intentional, actually- even Grady and Edaline suddenly decided to take an impromptu trip to Mysterium today. They have Havenfield all to themselves.

(That sentence seems to fill Linh’s stomach with the mechanical butterflies they accidentally unleashed earlier. She doesn’t think about that too hard.)

(If she does, she knows she’ll find out something very odd about why she always feels warm when Marella calls her a pet name.)

“What is it?” She asks Marella. The other girl lifts one shoulder.

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty. Let’s see...”

She taps the marble with two fingers and the lights cut out. They come back a few seconds later, Marella grinning sheepishly.

“Whoops. Sorry, sweetheart-”

“Stop calling me that.”

The words are out before Linh can stop them, and she flounders. “I mean- I just-” She shakes her head. “I can’t. Not when I know…” You don’t mean them, she finishes mentally. It hurts too much to hear you throw them out that easily.

Marella’s expression shutters and she looks away. “Right,” she says, sounding oddly defeated. “Of course.”

She turns around, muttering “of course you would have figured it out” under her breath. Linh frowns and, since her mouth and her brain seem to be operating on different planes of existence today, says,

“What? Figured out what?” Her tone is almost challenging, but even Linh isn’t entirely sure why. Marella turns back around, arms crossed defensively.

“Really. You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Marella throws up her hands. “Fine. I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted?” Her voice drops lower, less frustrated and more finished. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be weird. I’ll get over it.”

“You. You like me?”

Marella doesn’t respond, already sorting through another pile. Linh takes a deep breath and uses what’s left of her courage.

“I didn’t know that. I wanted you to stop calling me pet names because I thought they didn’t mean anything to you.”

Marella pauses. Straightens up.

“They did,” she says, so softly it’s almost imperceptible. “They all did.”

“They meant something to me too.”

Edaline’s office is quiet. Linh doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, tries not to even think until Marella turns her head.

“I hear there’s a really good restaurant in downtown Atlantis,” she says. It’s a question, an outstretched hand. Linh smiles and takes it.

“That sounds amazing,” she responds. “Honey.”

The marble slips from Marella’s fingers and the lights turn off again. Marella’s smile, though, is enough to brighten the room.

-/-

When she was little, Linh never had a nickname.

They were too frivolous for her parents, too unnecessary for the people who sometimes forgot to even call her Linh. Nicknames weren’t needed for someone who barely had a name at all.

Nicknames are never really needed, but they’re used here.

“Mare,” she calls across their small kitchen, “we need to go.”

“I’m here! I’m ready,” Marella responds breathlessly, pecking Linh on the cheek as she rushes to pull her coat on.

“Bi is going skin us alive if we’re late to Sophie’s party.”

“Good thing we’re not late then, sweetie.” Marella grins at her and moves out of the door. They are late, actually, but neither of them really care.

It hits Linh sometimes, how very different her life is now. She has friends, and family, and a wonderful wife who deserves the world.

(The ring on her finger seems to shine. That conversation was feather-light and delighted, a gasped yes and cheers from all their friends.)

“Hon, come on!”

She has a nickname now. Dozens, in fact. But she also has a name.

Linh Redek steps out the door.

#kotlc #marellinh #marellinh week 2020 #marella redek #dex dizznee #linh song #my writing #lynn rambles

71 notes · View notes

kukukape · 4 years ago

Text

Richard Malik x Operative: The Whistleblower

This the first time I've posted a fic in a while, but I'm excited! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 😊

Tags: @simping-for-sandayu-oda @luciewarrenx3

•••

Richard had to admit, he'd come up with more... enjoyable plans than this one. He grunted as the Albion thug's knee collided with his stomach, again. Wanker was enjoying this way too much.

His eyes flicked to the camera ever so subtly. Not that the bastard would've noticed, he was too busy trying to decide which way to assault Richard Malik next. But he could see it moving around a bit sporadically, as if its operator were trying to get his attention.

And even in the midst of great pain, he had to fight a smirk. Things were already going accordingly.

"U-ugh!" He grunted as the Albion guard pulled him up by his hair and punched him in the face.

Welp, time to fall back into character.

"I-I'm not who you think I am, I-I swear!"

A slap across the face. Backhanded. Richard had to admit, that hurt his pride more than it did his face.

"You're Malik! A SIRS officer and a leaky fucking twat!" Richard, with his forehead resting against the cold concrete, found himself wanting to smile at his own notoriety.

Malik. That name carried weight in SIRS. In London's infrastructure of justice and security. This scared, begging persona wasn't him. This was a choice.

He was a spy. Slippery, and willing to relinquish his true character for his mission.

His breathing quickened with faux fear as the Albion officer picked him up by the collar, bunching up his silken silver tie amidst the action. "That's not me, I s-swear to god, please- PLEASE-"

---

Angel's heart nearly stopped when Bagley cut the feed. "Fuck…" she whispered. She had half a mind to curl up on the curb and let a grey gloom consume her, but Bagley was too much of a dick to allow that.

"Fuck is right! And fucking dead is what he'll be if you don't hurry," he said in his not-so-robotic deadpan.

Dead. Murdered. Killed?

All words and possibilities that resonated with Angel. She took a deep shaky breath, squeezing the steering wheel of her Atterley. "Drop a pin please, Bags," she said.

"I already did, while you were having a little panic attack."

Instead of meeting his snark with her own, Angel kicked the car into gear, speeding towards the construction site. From first gear to third, then sixth... and she was skidding to a stop by the sidewalk before she knew it.

Her optik buzzed as someone got onto comm. It was Brian, the team's most senior hitman. "Scope the place out before you go in. This could be a trap for all we know, so-"

The soft patters of a silenced P9, followed by two separate cries cut Brian off.

"Angel! Bagley, what's she-"

"She's storming the place like the baboon cousin she is!" Bagley exclaimed, "You know for a spy, she's rather uncovert." Which only said the absolute least.

The bodies were shrouded before the spy moved on, picking off another soldier just as they were turning the corner. A bullet between his eyes before he even knew he was in danger, and cloaked to make his death even less apparent.

Pressed against a corner wall, Angel took her phone out and let the news drone above become her eyes. "Bagley, help me find him," she said urgently.

"There's a closed off room in the back. Try there," he said. Angel jumped from camera to camera, her heart squeezing a bit every time she didn't see Richard.

Just when she was about to crack her phone in her grip, she saw him. Wrists tied, on his knees, gaze trained on the floor as he tried to catch his breath.

Angel knew this picture of him. Years ago, in a dirt-floored cell where they huddled together for just an inch of warmth. The image made her shudder, so forcefully mentally that she did so physically too.

She flinched again when Brian came over the comm. "Alright, there he is. I suggest you take out the rest of the guards before you go in," he said.

From soldier, to spy, and now to soldier again. Angel nodded as she squeezed the hilt of her gun. "I'll get right on it."

---

Richard chewed the inside of his cheek as he stared at the floor. He could feel a pair of eyes on him once again, staring through that same metal lense. He didn't dare turn to look, didn't dare break character.

Until he heard the camera screech, as if it wanted him to turn. And, flinching in surprise, he did.

He looked at the camera, wondering why the DedSec operative who'd come for him wanted to make their presence so known. Richard eyed the camera for a moment, searching for something deeper beyond the blank, metallic lense.

Of course, he found nothing. But just the notion of the operative- who he was all too sure was finally here- trying to communicate you're safe, it's okay, made him want to chuckle.

He gave the camera an acknowleding smirk, and ever so slight tilt of his head.

"AHH!" A soldier just outside screamed.

Richard's head whipped around again, and he heard some indecipherable yelling, along with the heavy footsteps of Albion-approved military boots. Somebody was obviously getting their ass kicked outside, because he only heard one person grunting in pain as limbs connected with their target.

Then silence.

He never really liked the quiet. It meant that nothing was happening, and for Richard, something always had to be happening. He couldn't predict quiet. Couldn't scheme it, outsmart it.

Thank god it didn't last long, before the metal door squealed open and quiet footsteps pittered in.

Richard kept his gaze down, as would a man currently fearing for his life. He'd been that enough times to know how to imitate it.

The 'fwoop' of a knife unsheathing made him flinch genuinely. But a steady, smooth... familiar voice eased him.

"Easy. It's just me," she said. Just me, she said. As if he were supposed to know her.

And he did. Oh lord, he did. And the mixture of fear, anger, regret, and happiness in him was too genuine for somebody so used to lying in the face of everyone short of his mother and father's graves.

The fearful part of him was scared to turn around and look at her as she cut through his restraints easily. But he didn't have a choice really, as she walked around and kneeled in front of him, cupping his face with both hands and searching for any injuries to his visage.

Richard was a confident man. Strong, assured, and decorated from head to toe in awards that highlighted his ingenius.

But he looked like a dumb fish in that moment, his mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide.

"…Angel?" He asked softly as her calloused fingertips subconsciously brushed across his brow, stretching down to touch his jaw.

---

"That's my name," she said dryly as she searched his face, looking anywhere but his eyes. Her hand reached into the pocket on his shirt, where she knew he kept a handkerchief. "Hold still, you look horrible," she said. Not that a handkerchief was gonna fix that, but whatever.

She wiped blood from his jaw, and the bits that had gotten onto his cheek. She chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep more words than necessary from escaping her.

I missed you.

Are you okay?

I know this is a farce, so what are you playing?

All reasonable, but Angel couldn't utter any of them. Because Richard Malik, her friend for all of their youth, her partner in war, her lover for that one night back in college, was right in front of her.

She raked a hand through his hair, which was as close to saying I'm glad you're okay as she was gonna get. And he grabbed her wrist gently.

Brown eyes met a lighter shade. Both of them soft, affectionate, and untrusting.

"You're Dedsec," he said it firmly but quietly. Looking for confirmation. Hoping she'd say no, she just happened to be walking down the street and decided to shoot up a restricted Albion area for shits and giggles.

But she nodded. And a pride she never had while working at SIRS shined in her eyes.

Angel helped him to his feet and cleared her throat. They clearly weren't gonna do the whole "So what've you been up to the past six years?" thing, so she spoke first, "We got the call from you. What was that all about?"

A look of shock passed over Richard's eyes. And Angel could tell what he was thinking. Probably wondering where that smile she always used to greet him with had gone.

But he remembered himself quicklyc straightening his tie with a nervous hand. "I'll upload the intelligence onto an anonymous FTP. You can sort through it-"

"No, I want to hear it from you," Angel cut him off rigidly.

Richard inhaled as his whole "My name is Richard Malik, herdyderdyder," speech was thrown out the window. "I believe I've discovered who Zero-Day really is; rogue SIRS officers from the CT unit who then framed Dedsec for the TOAN bombings."

"Men working under you?" Angel raised one elegant brow. "I always got the impression the CT unit was always fiercely loyal," she commented.

And back to the games they went. This time, for the first time, against each other.

He let out a humorless laugh. "You know how good I am at making enemies," he said, reaching for the door handle.

"Wait, Richard," she said quickly. Angel's hand shot out to grab his arm. He looked down at her in surprise.

…Down at her.

Since when was he so damn tall? And handsome…

No, no, stop it, monkey brain.

"I…" Angel's jaw moved uselessly for a moment, before she simply yanked him into am embrace. Richard made a surprised sound. Way too many surprises for one day for him.

But this one, he could tolerate.

Hesitantly, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders while hers linked around his neck tightly. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, and he could smell the shampoo drifting from her hair. "It's… good to see you again, Angel," he said quietly.

Angel chuckled once, before inhaling sharply and slowly pulling away. Out of his reach once again.

"We'll, uh... check out the info," she said, nodding before moving to step by him. But she paused by the door, then reached back over to him. Richard watched dumbly as she fixed his silver tie, straightening it back up and patting his chest twice. And she smiled.

"You grew up nicely, Richard," she said, before slipping out the door.

Richard stood there dumbly for a moment, a thousand different things racing through his head.

But the one thing that stood out the most was the fact that his plans had definitely just been shaken.

~end~

#richard malik #watchdogs #watch dogs legion #wdl #give this man a GOLD STAR #for being HOT #richard malik x oc

13 notes · View notes

yyuangss-main · 4 years ago

Text

❝six: the magician❞

“Control it Bakugo!” You ducked under his right arm, grabbing his wrist and his other too. You brought a leg up, kicking him in his gut. Bakugo’s body flew backwards, skidding across the floor. “Remember! Me giving you a quirk will be stronger than the original. That’s why we’re training so you won’t get backlash.” He growled, crawling up to his feet and sending an explosion your way. You put up a shield, keeping you standing while Bakugo once again flew back, this time into the wall.

“I don’t need any damn training! I know how my quirk works!” He slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in his back. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“My quirk. You don’t know how my quirk works.” You extended your hand out to him. Bakugo smacked it away, putting his hand where the pain came from. “Do you really think you’re ready to fight?” You squatted in front of him, reclining on your thighs. Bakugo snarled.

“Like I said.” Bakugo glared with his teeth gritted, “I don’t need training for something I know how to use.” You grunted, obviously tired of Bakugo’s egotistical manners that never left. From the day of the meeting, it’d been a week and three days of training for Bakugo.

“Kurapika, I think the best decision is option four. Ground Zero can be valuable on this mission.” You agreed with the Chain Hero, “I have one condition. Ground Zero must go under training with me.” Bakugo’s eyes widened, giving a look of betrayal. Kurapika hummed.

“Any particular reason why?” Kurapika now placed both of his hands on the table.

“Yes. When I give someone an ability, it will be two times stronger than an original. On top of that, he needs to work fighting alongside me. If he gets more than one hundred meters away from me the quirk will immediately drop and return back to me.” Kurapika nodded in approval. “Until I say he’s ready, we will not join you in fighting the Spiders.”

“But I don’t need any training!” Bakugo shouted. “I know how to work my own quirk!”

“Ground Zero.” Kurapika quickly reprimanded him. Bakugo’s mouth clamped shut, vibrating with anger. “If you don’t want to agree with these conditions you’re more than welcome to leave the case. Any others can leave the case too. Copycat, your conditions are accepted. Onto assign everyone else’s roles.”

“Are you even sure this is the right place?” Bakugo hissed, keeping his head away from the window opening. Word got to Kurapika that the Spiders were hiding in abandoned apartments but with an unknown city. He gave you updates on where everyone would go. Midoriya and Kaminari would check out Esuha City. Kirishima always patrolled Hosu. Kurapika never gave an update on his whereabouts though. “There’s nobody here.” You held a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet.

You had talked with Kurapika earlier, him giving you a location for you to scout.

“As why we’re waiting! Izuku and Sero will soon join in the apartments across.” You leaned back in the corner. “The Troupe is smarter than to get themselves caught. It’ll be a miracle if we even see one of them.” You sighed, checking the wrist watch for any updates. It’d been three hours and seventeen minutes since you two arrived. Bakugo was persistent in scouting the place. You had faith in Kurapika.

Six hours. Midoriya and Sero arrived an hour ago. Scuffling over the dirt made Bakugo kick your leg. You both crawled to the window openings, peering carefully. You recognized both Troupe Members. Machi and Pakunoda. They came from the left while on the right came Shalnark and Feitan. You shot a look at Bakugo, one that read be quiet.

“I thought the Boss would send more.” Machi spoke, crossing her arms. Shalnark beamed a smile. How was he a part of the Troupe? He seemed too happy and nice for your liking.

“He did.” Feitan spoke. His words were spaced out. “The Boss sent other members. They will be on their way soon.”

“I think he sent six in total?” Shalnark placed his finger on his chin. “Either way, we’ll need to break out into groups again. Uvogin was seen by a hero coming out of our previous hideout. Boss sent him to Jaku.” You furrowed your brow. Jaku was where Kirishima and Kaminari were stationed.

“Any idea on who else is coming?” Pakunoda asked.

Shalnark pointed his head to his left. Machi’s nonchalant look caught onto what he was trying to say. Feitan’s head cocked to the right. And it grew silent. The four members stared at each other, making a sweat drop roll from the side of your head. Shalnark brought his hand to his chest.

Four fingers were held up. Your eyes widened. They knew.

“Hmm. New members?” A voice called out from behind you and Bakugo. You both turned around. Hisoka Morow. He leaned against the door frame. “Does the Boss want to up his numbers, or are you here to fight one of the seven?” Seven? As soon as the odd number left his mouth, a loud explosion from behind went off. You quickly glanced back to see the four Troupe members below darting in separate directions and Sero swinging out with Midoriya. The apartment building Midoriya and Sero were in came down, a usage of Midoriya’s quirk.

With Feitan, Shalnark, Machi, and Pakunoda fleeing, two more escaped from the falling building. Phinks and the man seen carrying a sword. Phinks escaped with ease, using the pile of rubble to land on. While the other examined his choices.

“I guess that settles it. I’m allowed to attack.” Hisoka spoke, giving a smirk. Bakugo charged at him, swinging his arm but it phased through Hisoka, leaving nothing but dust. “Silly me. I never caught your names.” Hisoka was on the window still now, dangling a leg and flipping a card. He used his right hand to keep him propped up. Bakugo let out a yell.

“Ground Zero no!” You said too late with Bakugo sending an explosion to Hisoka’s direction. Your quick reflexes brought up a shield around you. Falling debris attempted to break the protective dome. You searched to see Bakugo in the hallway trying to stand up. He was safe since the destruction was sent to the windows.

“Hm, Ground Zero?” Shocked at hearing Hisoka’s voice from behind you, the dome shut off. In a split second you were yanked to the side from any damage. An arm wrapped around your torso kept you pinned down with a sharp object at your neck. “May I have a thank you? Or perhaps your name in return?” Your eyes only went to Bakugo.

“What the hell are you… Still doing… Alive?” He staggered. Bakugo’s cheeks slowly brought back the red hue. Hisoka raised his eyebrows, a look of disinterest coveting it.

“Don’t move if you want her to live.” Hisoka said, making Bakugo use the doorway for support. The magician dragged you up, careful to not cut your throat. Bakugo’s struggles made Hisoka squint his eyes. “This is interesting. Very interesting indeed.” Hisoka’s free hand covered his mouth. Bakugo’s menacing stare arose when Hisoka began snickering.

“What’re you laughing at!” Bakugo slurred, plummeting on the ground again.

“Tell me, are you the hero who got his quirk stolen?” Hisoka removed his hand. The aura in the room became threatening. You softly gasped, mouth agape at Bakugo. He, in return, denied what was asked about him. “Really? A high fever and weak body reminds me of the work of someone I know.”

Bakugo’s frail limbs couldn’t support him. He laid face flat, eyelids becoming heavy and hard to keep open. You mentally cursed yourself. When you stopped the shield, you’d also stopped giving Bakugo his quirk. And if you gave it back now, Hisoka would figure out your powers.

“He won’t be waking up anytime soon.” Hisoka sighed. His eyes fluttered towards you, nearing the card closer. You squeezed your palms, coming up with solutions to escape. “One wrong move and you’ll bleed to death. Now, why don’t you answer the question?”

You licked your lips, staying silent. It felt like a paper cut and blood trickled down the side, more beginning to flood. The tension rose, almost making it hard for you to breathe. Hisoka exhaled, letting go of you. You fell to your knees, trying to stop your bleeding. Hisoka squatted in front of you, giving a bright smile.

“I’ll spare you for now. It’ll be a shame killing you before your prime.” He patted your head, standing back up and walking to the hole. He glanced over his shoulder, “By the way, good to meet you, Copycat.” Hisoka raised his hand, a pink line shooting from his pointer finger and hauling him away.

Your shaky hand withdrew from your wound. Blood was smear all over your palm. With the other, you activated a healing quirk and brought it back to your neck. You grunted, using your chin to call Kurapika from the watch.

“Kurapika it’s me.” You said instantly after he picked up, “The Spiders attacked us. Ground Zero is unconscious. Deku and Cellophane got away. I’m not sure where they’re at or if they’re safe.” Finally the healing was over.

“Bring Ground Zero to Dr. L. I’ll meet you there.”

“On it.” He hung up. You used a water quirk to clean the blood. Now the problem was to figure out a way to wake up Bakugo. You bit your thumbnail while checking his pulse. “How did he know?”

❝When a vicious gang called the Phantom Troupe takes away the quirk of Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero, heroes around do their best to protect him and ones in training. They call you in and give you four different options that give you four different outcomes.❞

TAGLIST IS OPEN! SEND AN ASK, A COMMENT, OR DM TO BE ADDED!

Taglist: @makeusfreefromthisfandom @humanitysbiggestsimp @cuddlejeongin @moremilkforkags @almostcrystalized101 @yuesphere @angelthebedsheet @mrstodorooki @jiminscarmex @lollyzen @skylarkalchemist

MATERIAL LIST

Not me saying I was gonna post but I forgot 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m trying yall bare with me 😭 Also, if there’s a specific route you want to be tagged in, you can file a google form which is on my navi or comment down below which of the four you want to be tagged in

#🪐 — copycat #mha x reader #hxh x reader #hxh x you #hxh hisoka #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka morow x reader #hisoka morow #hisoka #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo

18 notes · View notes

enragedbees · 5 years ago

Text

Thirty Million and One

Pairing: Roceit if you squint

Summary: Deceit desperately wants Thomas to pick the callback over the wedding, and it infuriates him that the others won’t listen to him.

Warnings: Deceit, the sides being mean to Deceit, referenced character death (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 1547

Song rec: Colors by Halsey

A huge thanks to the incredible @thenewlarislynn for being my beta reader!!

This is based on this post by the endlessly talented @lostonehero, thanks for the inspiration!!!

General Taglist: @xionbean @fall-sunflowers @emo-disaster @darkstrange-son

I love reading your comments! Please let me know what you think! :)

——————————————-

Deceit was so close. He could feel it.

He tried not to let himself get excited. Things could always go wrong. One slip up, one detail gone unaccounted for, and everything might collapse.

But he was so close. He had almost done it several times before but he had never gotten this far. Deceit could practically reach out and brush his fingers against victory.

Finally, everything was about to change.

Thomas sat at the witness stand in front of him, panicked and sweating. Deceit hid a smirk.

“Stop stalling, and admit it!” he snapped. “What am I doing here right now, Thomas? Am I the snake come to trick you into sinning?”

Thomas glared at Deceit, and Deceit smiled and shook his head.

“Or have you had your mind made up since the moment you received the news about the callback? You didn’t even forget about the wedding, did you?! It was all an act!”

“Fine! I want to go to the callback!”

Deceit’s heart pounded as the room caught its breath. He couldn’t keep the grin from blooming on his face.

That was it. Finally. I did it, he kept saying, over and over in his head, barely unable to believe it. I did it.

“I was planning on playing WordCrush on my phone during the wedding ceremony to keep my mind off the fact that I’m single,” Thomas said helplessly. “I don’t want to go! I’m…afraid…to go.”

The others all stared at Thomas in disappointment and disbelief. The pain on his face could have broken Deceit’s heart, had he not known from what he was protecting Thomas.

Thomas continued to incriminate himself, but it didn’t matter to Deceit. He got what he wanted. Everything was going to be okay.

Deceit let himself laugh as the others still sat stunned. “Yes! Prosecution rests, or whatever. Let’s just call it here and put him out of his misery.”

Roman furrowed his brow and lifted a page on his notepad. “Does the juror have his decision?”

Virgil sighed. “Yeah.” He stood up and glared at Deceit. Deceit barely felt the sting.

“I hate to say it, but…the defendant is…guilty. On all charges.”

Thomas hung his head.

“Who knew convincing people to do something they really want to do could be so easy?” Deceit bragged.

“This is a downer,” Roman sighed.

Thomas bit his lip. “Well, Your Honor, what’s your sentence?”

Deceit could barely hear them talking over the pounding in his ears, the elation swelling in his chest. Their disappointment was inconsequential. It would pass, and everything would be okay. Finally. Finally.

Roman’s head shot up. He gingerly picked up his gavel. “I hereby sentence you…”

Deceit lifted a hand. “That’s not really necessary. I think now you see that all of this is – ”

“ – To one day at the St. Clifford’s Chapel on the day of Lee and Mary Lee’s wedding!”

And with the bang of Roman’s gavel, Thomas’s eyes snapped open, and Deceit’s relief crumbled.

His heart sank into his stomach. “Wait, what?!”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This had never happened before and Deceit had made sure that it wouldn’t.

Virgil, he expected. Patton had also managed to ruin it before. And there was a reason Logan was deliberately kept away almost every time.

But how could Roman do this to Deceit? How could he not understand?

Roman sighed. “It’s my sworn duty to help Thomas achieve his hopes and dreams.”

He scowled. “But Thomas wouldn’t dream of attaining his hopes through deceitful means.”

Deceit fought back the frustration ebbing in his head, the nausea in his stomach, and the burning behind his eyes. He saw Virgil smile proudly at Roman and gritted his teeth.

“But that’s not true!” Deceit cried.

Virgil scoffed. “And you’re a beacon of truth?”

“Did I say that?” Deceit snapped. “I missed the part where I said that!”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t understand. You got what you wanted.”

They would never understand. Deceit had been through this more times than he could count and it always ended the same way. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever believed that he wanted what was best for Thomas. It was foolish of him to believe this would have ended any other way.

Deceit bit his lip hard. He wouldn’t cry, not in front of them.

“But you’re still missing the point!” Deceit cried, voice dripping with venom. “Didn’t it seem kind of ridiculous taking this matter so seriously to the point of settling it in a legal setting?!”

The others just shrugged. Deceit tried not to scream.

“I am trying to teach you a lesson!” He yelled. “But it’s literally impossible!”

“Falsehood.”

Deceit just barely sidestepped before Logan rose up right next to him and folded his arms.

“Why don’t you just leave the teaching to me?” He shot Deceit a look of contempt. Deceit refused to wither under it.

“Great,” he snarled. “Well I’m sure Thomas’s friends would love to know that he’s forcing himself to attend their wedding.”

Deceit knew that he had lost. Once again, they had ignored him. He should really have been used to it already. Deceit bottled up his hurt and put on an air of nonchalance.

“It’s clear you all don’t want to listen to reason,” he sighed. Then his tone hardened. “But know this. I’ll always be a part of you. I’m not going anywhere. And there are smarter ways to get people to do what you want anyway.”

Deceit sank down, ignoring the scared and hateful faces of the people he wished he could still call friends.

He popped back up in his room, sank to the floor, and covered his face in his hands. Deceit took in a few breaths, unable to keep a few hot tears from slipping out of his eyes.

He took a moment to compose himself, then sniffed and wiped at his eyes. He stood back up and looked around his bedroom.

Journal pages, sticky notes, pushpins, and pieces of string connecting it all covered every inch of the walls and ceilings and parts of the floor. Millions of attempts, millions of outcomes, all failed.

Deceit had stopped counting how many times he had been through this scenario after about two hundred and fifty of them. For how long he had been stuck, it was probably somewhere near thirty million.

No matter what he tried, Thomas always, always, chose the wedding.

And every time Thomas went to the wedding, he never came back.

Deceit pulled some pages down off the wall. He held onto a string by his teeth while he rearranged the papers, trying to create some path he hadn’t tried already.

When Thomas died, everything reset. His life reverted to where it had been a few years prior, and Deceit was the only one who remembered what happened. He didn’t know why it kept happening, he didn’t know why he was the only one who wasn’t reset.

It was like something, or someone, expected him to save Thomas, but no matter what he attempted, he always failed. Nobody listened to him.

He tried getting close to the others, and sometimes, he succeeded. Those were the best of the attempts. Of course his priority was breaking the loop, but during those times, Deceit finally felt like he was a part of the group. He felt loved, he felt appreciated. He believed they would listen to him.

But the moment he even suggested skipping the wedding, they turned on him. Virgil and Patton accused him of only pretending to be friendly to get what he wanted. Roman believed them and never forgave Deceit. That was the worst.

He had tried explaining what he knew would happen, but they never believed him. Deceit couldn’t blame them. He wouldn’t believe himself, either. They all only saw him as a liar.

Deceit pushed a couple pins into the wall. He squinted at the rough plan, trying to work out how every detail would fit with how the others might respond.

At this point, Deceit barely cared about winning, about proving himself right. He just wanted something different to happen. And it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

He had spent eons reliving the same few years. He could repeat every conversation he had with all the others, verbatim. He knew their exact reactions and responses to every word or phrase. It was what made him such a good mimic.

Deceit took a step back and folded his hands behind his head. This new plan was too similar to this attempt and not different enough from the previous attempt. He sighed and flopped back on his bed.

He draped an arm across his eyes. Deceit had until April to figure out a new plan. He didn’t have to have it all planned immediately.

Deceit stared up at the ceiling, and wondered, for the thirty billionth time, why the others wouldn’t listen.

Thomas was a good person. Didn’t that mean, to some extent, that Deceit was, too?

Deceit closed his eyes. He had gotten very close. He had never gotten this close before. Maybe it would end soon.

Maybe next time, someone would listen. Maybe attempt number thirty million and one would be the one where everything changed.

#ts #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #deceit #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #deceit fic #deceit fanfic #deceit fanfiction #roceit #roceit fic #roceit fanfic #my writing

101 notes · View notes

janus-stanus · 4 years ago

Text

It Seemed the Better Way

Rating: Teen and Up | Category: General, Angst, Character Study

Characters: Virgil and Janus, + a Remus cameo (and maybe someone else?)

Setting: Half when Virgil and Janus were around 10 years old; half in early July 2017, right before the Season 1 finale

Summary:

Years and years ago, Virgil came to Janus with a problem. They both swore themselves to secrecy. In doing so, Janus discovered his purpose. Now, as Virgil looks back on that decision, Janus comes to him with some questions. This time, they don’t see eye to eye. Virgil has to pick a side. He chooses neither.

Content warnings:

Imaginably standard for fics about Virgil choosing to duck out, but we get into his self-hatred and wanting to disappear

Homophobia (the characters don't literally experience it but the description of it is fairly intense)

Spider-related body horror, not much more extreme than Patton turning into Lilypadton though

And temporary possession

AO3 Link (13k words, one chapter + a short epilogue)

Because the fic is so long and mostly one part, I won’t be straight up posting it here to tumblr. Fortunately, you don’t need an AO3 account to read it. I will put the first ~1,700 words below the cut as a preview (plus the taglist). Since this is my first complete Sanders Sides fic, reblogs, kudos, and comments would be greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

[props to @books-are-cool for beta reading the fic for me!]

Virgil had to steel himself before entering Janus’s room. It always unsettled him how empty yet cheery it was. The daffodil yellow walls and carpet, plus the faint scent of lemon air freshener, made him queasy, and there was nothing else to add any character or additional color. The one object that wasn’t a yellow-tinted carry-over from Thomas’s bedroom was the cushioned yellow chair Janus was currently lounging in. He seemed to have dozed off in it, still in his black pants, bright yellow polo shirt, and sparkly dark purple waistcoat. The sight made Virgil feel somewhat underdressed in his lilac pajamas.

The door shut behind him, and Janus’s eyes fluttered open. When he saw the intruder, dragging behind him a thin black blanket patterned with skulls, he let out a beleaguered yawn.

“Yes, Virgil?”

He approached cautiously, rubbing his fingers against his safety blanket to calm his nerves. He did his best to block the clips of the evening broadcast from his mind for the moment. Instead, he forced eye contact with Janus, and, in a hushed tone, spat out the words that had plagued him for the past hour:

“Is Thomas gay?”

“…What? You mean, does he like guys? No, obviously,” Janus retorted as he rubbed his eyes. However, when he lowered his hands and saw the sincere concern in Virgil’s face, he paused.

“Are you sure?”

Present-day: Early July 2017

It’s a quarter past midnight, and Virgil finds himself in a paradox. His body has dissolved into jello and cries out to sink into bed, yet it turns to stone whenever he even thinks of leaving his post. His face sags like melting wax, but his eyes remain wide open, staring with laser intensity into the formless darkness of his room.

Usually, it’s easy for him to pin down the origin of his fatigued insomnia; some issue he blew out of proportion during the day, or a potential problem lurking on the horizon. Not this time. It was a good day. Just like yesterday, and the day before, and every other day in the past week. It’s standard for Thomas, and presumably the other three, but for Virgil specifically? It’s the first time in Thomas’s adult life that he’s experienced this level of calm. He could get used to it - if it didn’t come with the itching need to do something about it, to tear back the curtain and drag out the monsters lying in wait, to make himself useful. In combination, he’s left with a light, murky haze of apathy filling in the gaps where his emotions should be, creating the sensation of him slowly rising into the air. He needs to feel something. He wants to feel bad.

So he slides off the desk into the leather chair, closes out of the Evanescence playlist on his laptop, and pulls up the video that has rooted itself in the back corner of his mind. While it was uploading, it was the typical brand of anxiety that made it monopolize his attention. As Joan and Thomas had said, coming out was something you’ll never be done doing; however, this video was as close to a final statement of intent as anything would be. There was no turning back from here, no more lying hiding. And, even this many years on, he was still terrified of the fallout.

However, now that it’s immortalized on the web and thousands of unknowable eyes and ears have consumed it, with comments still rolling in by the dozens, the uneasy feeling wracking his body is of a different nature. Because they love the video, of course they do. The online community that has formed around Thomas never ceases to amaze him. Just a year or two ago he’d have laughed at the idea that he’d choose to scroll through the comments on one of Thomas’s posts, but here he is, once again proving his visions of the future wrong. It’s the most he’s smiled in years (though the competition for that honor has been more heated recently than it was for a long, long time).

He scrolls past multiple “I’m here, I’m queer” jokes, compliments for everyone who took part, proud declarations of identity, and allies sharing their support. Those all warm his heart, but the ones which make him pause are the uplifting coming out stories: people who opened up to friends and found they have more in common than they knew; people who gathered the courage to have the talk with their parents (not in the foolhardy way he had, god no, he has yet to watch through the video without skipping that part); people who found acceptance in their communities, even religious ones, even at school. And more than that, people, total strangers from every corner of the globe, who claim Thomas as an inspiration for them living their truths.

It’s those comments that trigger the uneasy feeling. That, and whenever the word “repression” resounds in his headphones like a high-pitched whistle.

Virgil lives in the negative. He deals not just in apprehension and fear, but in embarrassment, regret, and guilt; and he exaggerates each instance by his nature. But this whirlpool in his gut is the result of more than just one bad memory, one isolated failure. It was a chain of choices that formed the armor which has since fused to his bones; actions taken and opportunities passed over, things said and unsaid, truths suffocated and lies that gained a life of their own,

“You called?”

Virgil slams the laptop shut almost hard enough to shatter the screen. He flicks the desk lamp on, then swivels his chair to face the intruder, shaking his head a few times to part his bangs.

“...Janus.” Not the bad feeling he was looking for.

“You remembered,” he grins, an artificial glimmer in his eyes. He takes a second to adjust his capelet and ensure that the golden clasps on his shirt are perfectly in place. “Forgive me for the lack of professionalism, I had to take care of, a thing.”

From the way he says ‘thing’, Virgil knows exactly who he’s talking about. Some things never change. “You couldn’t have knocked first?”

“I thought we were beyond that point in our relationship,” Janus pouts, putting his hand to his chest. “You’re not going to kick me out, are you?”

“Depends,” Virgil responds, without missing a beat, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and tosses them onto the desk. “Why are you here?”

“To talk.”

“About what?”

“...I was hoping you would take the lead on that front,” Janus says, “You’ve always been so good at that. But if it’s up to me, I suppose I could provide a starting point.” He makes a show of glancing around the dimly lit room, recoiling slightly at the inexplicable smell of lavender and expired Halloween candy, before he locks his gaze on the anxious side with the most neutral smile he can muster. “What are your feelings on last month’s ‘Having Pride’ video?”

Virgil huffs as his body tenses. He wants to say ‘fine’, but then he remembers who he’s talking to. “In all honesty? They’re mixed.”

“Really?” Janus gasps, with all the subtlety of a piano plummeting from a third-story window. “I’m, quite frankly, astounded to hear that from you. Why?”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Look,” he hisses, “I don’t know what you’re hoping to get out of this, but we are not going there.” He flips up his hood and spins the chair a full 180 degrees. “Good to see you, now get out. Maybe try again another time.”

For a moment, the room goes quiet, music to Virgil’s ears. Then Janus fires back, with words like daggers:

“If you say so. It’s all water under the bridge now. Just, don’t sit there and make yourself out to be the victim.” When he gets no reaction, he gives a final thrust: “I did it for you, remember?”

Virgil’s hands clamp down on the armrests. He tries not to say anything, to just let him have the satisfaction of having the last word and leave. But the last statement out of his mouth devolves into outright mockery as it echoes in his ears, begging to be challenged.

In the blink of an eye, he rises and sharply turns to face his opponent. “You keep on saying that,” he growls, leaning in with his arms crossed atop the back of the chair, “But you and I both know it stopped being true a long time ago - if it ever was true.”

Janus’s eyes narrow. He briefly flashes his fangs, but he bites his tongue. Instead, he plants one hand on the chair, as if throwing down a dueling glove, then shoves it toward the other wall. Virgil catches his balance just before he’s sent tumbling forward, his hood sliding back down.

“Apologies, let’s try that again,” the scaly side smirks. “You were saying?”

Virgil takes a moment to refocus his frustration. “How mature of you,” he mumbles (not that he should have expected better from him). Then he jerks his head up so he can drill his eyes into the snake’s as he continues. “I won’t pretend I wasn’t in on it to start, because believe it or not I’m better than that. Thing is, I realized later that it was a terrible idea, that it would only make things worse in the long run, for all of us. So I asked you to give it up. Did you listen? Of course not. And you never said why you couldn’t, you just-”

“Because you knew,” Janus cuts in, his voice sparking with indignation, everything else about him suddenly stone cold. “You knew exactly why.”

All Virgil can do is stare blankly back at him. While he waits for further clarification, he idly notices the dark smudges fading in under the other side’s eyes.

Janus cocks his head in turn, scanning every inch of Virgil’s clueless face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times. When he fails to find the words, his arm begins moving with a will of its own.

Virgil notices the trembling hand in his peripheral vision right before it lands on his shoulder. He takes an abrupt step back, and from the depths of his subconscious something roars, “Don’t you dare t-”

And it clicks.

END OF PREVIEW

If you want to read the rest, here’s the AO3 link again!

TAGLIST: (massive thanks to @the-taglist-repository!)

@smileyzs @robinwritesshitposts @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @itsabsurd-and-terrifying @potatsanderssides @legendsgates @demoniccheese83 @rainbowbowtie @kieraelieson @star-crossed-shipper @a-fandom-trashdump @just-your-typical-trans-guy @idont-freaking-know @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @ananonsplace @ollyollyoxinfree @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #it seemed the better way #virgil sanders #janus sanders #raven writes

19 notes · View notes

plantvenuss · 5 years ago

Text

Avenging what we lost- [ Steve Rogers x Black! reader ] - 3

[A/N - To be added to the taglist just ask! 🍒💕! the summary may be the same for a few chapters or it might change!]

For previous chapters: Part one, and here for Part two

WARNINGS : None

Summary: Following the release of the readers hospitalization, the reader tries to find out why and who was behind what happened on the 21st of September, 2013. But will they you after the right person? and what happens when it becomes harder than you thought it would be?

1 year ago....

February, 8th 2013.

“You gonna be okay?” Melina, the woman who had been your caretaker for less than a year asked, rubbing your back as the yellow taxi parallel parked in front of you.

The streets were busy, the sound of honking, buzzing cars filled your ears. You breathed in the scent of DC and savored it, the smell of fresh air and soft winter breeze hitting a spot you’d never thought you’d feel again.

Everything felt new, your mind felt fresh- it felt like it somehow expanded and you were open to more knowledge that you could’ve never reached before. You named it the “post-accident high.” because you thought that everyone who had experienced such severe “accidents.” felt this way. That the trauma was so severe that it shook the core of the soul. And the body not knowing how to react to such drastic changes, made changes of its own to adapt: renewing the mind

You nodded as the driver loaded your things in the trunk. ”Although I don’t really remember some things.” you commented jokingly, which made the both of you giggle.

You turned to her, the necklace she had given you on your birthday swinging with the movement of your body. You gave her a soft smile and placed your hand on top of her forearm.

“Are you?” You asked back, becoming serious, and she gave you a stunned look, her eyebrows furrowing, eyes looking around as if you had been talking to someone else before she gave an answer.

She opened her mouth but stopped, wrapping her arms around herself as the whisk cold air blew again. She smiled a sad smile, watching the cars drive by as she continued to stand there with her arms wrapped around herself.

She nodded after a while of silence, like she was appreciating the scene in front of her- the kind of nod you give when you’re satisfied with everything.

“Yeah. I am.”

Finally, she turned and placed her hand on top of yours and exhaled, a short breath enough for it to make the air that escaped her lips turn to fog and dissolve into the air.

You placed your hands on top of hers, the feeling that this moment would only last a short second sitting in the pit of the both of your stomachs.

Although you were not brave enough to admit it, you were going to miss parts you could remember about her. You were going to miss how she put up with your bullshit all of the time, how she would always come in with a brighter smile even after you yelled at her and told her to fuck off countless times. You never meant for all of that, the yelling, the cursing the temper tantrums, it was just that she reminded you so much of your brother, Marcus.

So well put together, so patient and tolerant with all of your shit, you were almost starting to believe that Marcus’ soul was put into the the body of this woman to taunt you.

And you couldn’t help but get angry. It wasn’t his fault, none of what happened that day was anybody’s fault but your own, and you had come to terms with that not too long ago. But you couldn’t dismiss the anger you felt. How could he just leave you here all alone like this? with scars etched all over your body, it disgusted you. You were supposed to protect each other, you were supposed to protect him.

But your pride was too high to admit that to her, how much she reminded you of your brother, even with all of the 3rd degree burns that were patched up and hidden away so the rest of the world couldn’t see you, or hear your stories.

“How about this.” You began, the idea of letting her go so soon breaking your heart. Not now, not when you had such a connection with her.

Slipping your hand away from hers you turned, the taxi driver impatiently seated in his car, waiting for you to say your goodbyes.

“how about we grab a coffee one of these days?” you asked, gulping, waiting to be disappointed.

She smiled brighter, her smile almost bringing the sun out, she nodded and you limped toward the taxi with her help, you said your goodbye’s and the taxi sped off, merging into the Washington traffic. But when you turned to look around, even after sitting in a queue of red lights and honking cars, she was still there, waiting.

June 20th, 2014.

Today....

“Any updates on the missing files?” Steve asked as he crouched over Natasha’s desk, she shook her head, no, as she continued to type at an impeccable speed, her eyes managing to keep up with whatever her fingers were feeding the computer with.

“I’m trying to hack their feed, trying to see if anyone was in that file room before you.”

Steve nodded, fixing his posture and standing up right, grabbing one of the files he took from the base off of Natasha’s desk, skimming through it.

“Good. Let me know if you find anything.” turning on his heels Natasha’s words stopped him from moving any further, “I’m in.” she said, and Steve turned around faster than he’s ever done before.

“Whoever this is,” Natasha spoke after a while of static buzzed through the computers speakers. “meddled with the feed, so I can’t identify the face. Only the times they were in and out.”

Steve huffed, dropping the file back on top of the neat stack of files, Natasha turned towards him with her lips pressed tightly, the feeling of failure seeping into her veins.

“We need to talk.”

He peered over his shoulder and scoffed as the door clicked behind Steve, kicking his feet off of his desk he stood, in one swift motion, his back still turned on Steve.

Steve took this as a sign to move forward, he placed his shield on the couch that was placed in the center of the room and moved his way towards Fury’s desk, he took Fury’s silence as a notion to speak but he chose to remain silent.

“What is it, Rogers?” He asked, his dominant voice bouncing off of the walls. Steve exhaled through his nose, his stubbornness getting the best of him, he swayed on his feet before his eyes flicked up to meet the back of Fury’s head.

“We have missing files and you don’t seem to care.” He croaked out, Fury’s body suddenly turned to this accusation, almost like he jumped at the idea to argue.

“Did I say I didn’t care?” He bounced back, finally meeting Steve’s eyes for the first time since he stepped into the room.

“You’re not exactly acting like you do.” Steve sassed back, if there was ever a time to be sassy, the time was now. Those files were important to S.H.I.E.L.D and now that they’ve been stolen, without any possible trace, the existence of S.H.I.E.L.D is at stake.

“So you’ve come to my office, to tell me how I should and shouldn’t give a damn?”

“No-” Steve pursed his lips into a tight line and tucked his two thumbs into the hilt of his uniform. He turned his head towards fury, his blue eyes boring a sense of urgency behind them, he knows he could catch whoever took the files, hell he wanted to catch whoever did this, all he wanted was for Fury to feel the same.

“All I’m asking is for you to help, send some agents, send a tech team- just send someone. It’s just me and Romanoff down there, and as much as I’d like to believe we can get it done on our own this time,” Steve raised his shoulders and Fury gave him a look of understanding and defeat after a moment.

It marked hour 3 when the loading bar successfully chimed, your head shot up from your desk and you rubbed your cold hands together. Wasting no time your hands moved towards the mouse and you began navigating what you could get your hands on.

“Come on, gimme something.” You urged on, your leg jittering up and down in anticipation. It took you months of planning to get your hands on these things, and you were hoping all of your good work was not put in for nothing.

Just when your hope was beginning to crack you came across a double file, which of course had its sets of passwords because it was S.H.I.E.L.D, but you had no problem getting past those, when you did your hands froze.

You pressed harder against the mouse, the beds of your fingers crushing the material under it, you grit your teeth, your heart beating faster than ever as you read the file over and over again just to make sure you were reading it correctly.

‘S.H.I.E.L.D INITIATIVE, PROJECT SEP 21ST-13 D.C’

‘There must’ve been some kind of file error, surely this couldn’t have been under the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D?’ you thought as you continued to hover the mouse over the file, your fingers shaking with anticipation. You shouldn’t feel this excited about knowing who was behind the attack against your family, but you can’t help it, you’ve finally been able to pin a face to this, after months. And that face was S.H.I.E.L.D.S.

Pulling yourself together you opened the file and the screen glitched for a second, the darkest black you’ve ever seen over-taking your screen as the sound of the computer increased to a piercing shriek, but it was over quicker then you could react. The screen lit up again, and your computer was bombarded with notes, weapon blueprints and potential “attack” dates, all written in some sort of code that you’d never come across before.

You did everything you could, tried to figure out the coding, tried to figure out any hidden features the weapons had, hell you even tried to figure out who triggered the launch for the bomb to go off in the first place, but after around half an hour, the file shut down and re-set its password.

You had figured out, a short while after you had failed to retrieve any useful information that would bring you to a lead, that whoever coded this file must have been the expert among experts, because they were able to hide the fact that after a specific time, you were locked out of each file, depending on the files importance.

Deciding to wrap it up for a day you pinned the hard-drive to your desktop when something caught your eye. This file stood out the most, instead of a mini folder as the image for the file itself it was a small, square bar with extremely small green coding against it, you thought nothing of it, deciding that it was probably a file about getting through HYDRA’S computer system, you decided to leave it alone, until your eyes came across the files name.

‘PROJEKT: [Y / N] [L / N] - 29203 SERUM # 5′

Turns out the night was going to be longer than you thought.

#steve rogers x black!reader #x black reader #avengers x black!reader #captain america x black! reader #captain america #black widow #nick fury #chapter 3 #Chris Evans

47 notes · View notes