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notiddygothgf · 2 months ago

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14. Taxi

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn't puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah? ❞

★ c.w.: smut. drinking (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: guess who dropped calculussssss!!!! yeah so it didnt wind up working out. i'm like going crazy rn and this story is the only thing keeping me sane. anyway! enjoy this! i had such a blast writing it. most importantly, keep on commenting! you guys keep me goin.

★ w.c: .6.8k

shameless ; chapter index

IT WAS LATE TUESDAY EVENING. Makima was throwing another Newbie welcome party. Your husband had refused to come, saying something about a meeting he had, something about a schedule conflict before kissing your cheek and walking out. You were standing in the lobby of the reception hall, black cocktail dress on, lips painted red, makeup compact open in your palm while you scrutinized your reflection.

It was 7 PM, the party had started an hour ago, and still, no call from Aki. You told yourself you hadn’t gotten dressed up for him, but as you caught a glimpse of the red against your skin, you wondered just a bit what he’d think when he saw you tonight. A trace of a smile slipped across your lips as you brushed a finger along the edge of your liner, thinking about his sharp, quiet gaze, the way he always looked like he was sizing up a storm in his head.

The thought made you shift on your heels, scanning the room. Seven on the dot, and still no Aki. Strange.

You closed the compact, slipping it into your clutch just as a familiar figure sidled up beside you, grinning.

“Well, now this is something,” Himeno teased, her eyes dancing as she took in your appearance. “You’ve actually arrived before your shadow.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at her. “Where is he, anyway?”

Himeno gave a nonchalant shrug, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. “Think you just missed him, actually. Stepped out with Denji not too long ago,” she hummed, her eyes glinting with a playful spark. “Should be back any minute. Why? Missing your boyfriend already?”

So he is here early. Typical.

A smile played on your lips as you leaned against the bar. “Not my boyfriend,” you corrected, though the denial felt softer than you intended. “But… maybe I am.”

Himeno smirked, nudging you with her elbow. “Oh, I see how it is. All dolled up just for him, huh?”

You laughed again, brushing off the comment. “I dressed up for the event. For everyone. Not for him.”

“Right,” Himeno replied, raising her eyebrows with an exaggerated nod. “You just happened to pick out the dress that’ll make Aki’s brain short-circuit when he sees it.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you refused to let her get to you. “He’ll have to behave,” you said, though you weren’t convinced by the words.

The grand hall was alive with a soft golden glow, tall windows adorned with silk drapes framing the nighttime skyline, and chandeliers casting a warm, intimate light over everything below. Tables lined the walls, each decorated with carefully arranged flowers, while guests mingled in clusters, laughter and conversation creating a steady, harmonious hum. There was an elegance to the space that made you feel like you'd stepped into a scene far removed from the typical demands of the job—almost like you were someone else, someone not bound by secrets or silent glances.

Himeno looped her arm through yours as the two of you wandered further inside, catching up on the usual things—how busy work had been, what new, funny things you’d overheard around the office.

Her eyes sparkled knowingly as she looked at you, amused, before an acquaintance of hers called her over. With an apologetic grin, she squeezed your shoulder, murmuring, “I’ll be back. Try not to get too distracted while I’m gone.”

Left on your own, you wandered among the elegantly dressed guests, your heart racing just a bit faster than usual. You could feel some eyes turning your way—polite, indifferent, but still, enough to make you wonder if they knew something you didn’t want them to. Did they sense the quickening of your pulse, the way you searched the crowd almost instinctively? Or worse, could they somehow know about Aki, and the way your thoughts always seemed to find their way back to him?

With Himeno gone, you found yourself adrift, wandering slowly around the room, unsure of where to settle. The crowd was thick with people, faces both familiar and unfamiliar, all talking, laughing, glasses of champagne in hand. As you moved through the clusters of guests, you could feel it—that prickling sensation at the back of your neck. Glances were being cast your way, fleeting and sideways, some lingering a beat too long before they shifted back to their conversations. You tried to convince yourself it was just because of the dress, or maybe because you weren't blending in as easily as you thought, but the feeling lingered.

The more eyes you caught, the harder it was to ignore the creeping suspicion that there was something more behind them. Did they know? You kept your expression serene, calm, but beneath that calm, questions twisted and tangled. Maybe someone had noticed the way you and Aki sometimes gravitated toward each other at work, the rare glances that lasted a fraction too long, the way you'd sometimes linger in doorways as though waiting for him to appear.

And if they did know—what were they thinking? The thought made your stomach clench. There was no denying the potential consequences if people found out, if whispers started. The idea of your connection with Aki being exposed, stripped of the privacy you’d both guarded so carefully, sent a jolt of unease through you. You couldn’t bear the idea of becoming fodder for office gossip, or worse, risking his reputation.

An unbidden thought wormed its way in: Would he still care if people found out? Or would he just carry on, unaffected? You shook it off, annoyed at yourself for even entertaining it. Aki had always been the careful one, the one with more at stake, and you knew he wasn’t the type to let others get in the way of what mattered to him.

But here, surrounded by strangers, you felt uncomfortably bare, like people could see right through you. You felt as if your secret was etched across your face for anyone who bothered to look.

Then, just as you were considering slipping away to find a quiet corner, a voice, smooth and familiar, cut through the noise behind you. “Can I have the honor of bringing you a drink?”

You spun around, and there he was, standing close, his icy blue gaze meeting yours with that easy warmth that managed to quiet every doubt swirling in your head. His smile was subtle, restrained, yet there was a certain spark in his eyes, as though he could see right past the formalities, past the anxiety.

“Aki,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

“Long time, no see, troublemaker,” he replied lightly, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. “You looked like you could use a drink,” he added, holding out a glass. As you took it, your fingers brushed, and for just a second, the world narrowed to that point of contact, every stare, every doubt slipping away, as though he were all that mattered.

“Behave. We’re in public,” You reminded him gently – the way a teenage girl would tell her boyfriend to ‘Stawwwwp’ when he play-fought with her. You were sick, you really were.

He quirked a brow, “I don’t think I did anything remarkable by buying you a drink.”

“People already talk,” You replied. “You don’t think it’s strange that the hardass Captain Hayakawa warmed up to one of his subordinates so quickly despite only having met her in public a handful of times?”

He shrugged as if he couldn’t possibly care less. “Let them talk, then. You look beautiful tonight.”

And, like you were 16 all over again, your cheeks warmed at his words. You took a cheeky little sip of the drink he had brought you – Merlot. Your favorite wine. This close to him, you could smell his cologne – that scent you knew so well, combined with the faintest hint of his detergent, of nicotine. You had spent half of the past few months tangled in his sheets. You would have been able to recognize him with your eyes closed, truly.

“And you’re misbehaving,” You retorted, a tongue-in-cheek comment that you knew he would make you eat when he got you alone.

“Who’s responsible for that?” He answered back without missing so much as a beat. Stepping closer to you, damn near crossing that line between ‘we’re coworkers’ and ‘she and I are having an affair’, he dropped his voice, “That dress looks amazing on you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over your face. The warmth that churned in your gut. “Thank you.”

The two of you began to walk around the room. As you strolled alongside Aki, conversation slipping easily between you, you couldn’t ignore the sense of being watched. It was subtle at first—a flicker of movement in your periphery, a quiet murmur that seemed to fade whenever you glanced around.

But then, you caught sight of them: curious eyes fixed on you, darting quickly away when you noticed, but not quickly enough. Their expressions held that familiar mix of polite interest and quiet judgment, a slight narrowing of brows that sent a wave of unease crawling up your spine.

The stares felt sharper, cutting through the careful facade you were trying so hard to maintain. Your heart raced as a thought wormed its way into your mind: They all know.

You shot a glance at Aki, feeling the heat rise to your face. The easy, flirtatious air you’d shared just moments ago suddenly felt fragile, as if it might shatter under the weight of so many eyes. You swallowed hard, nerves turning to panic. If anyone suspected even a fraction of what lingered between you and Aki, it would spread like wildfire. You couldn’t bear to think about the consequences—for him, for you.

Just as the realization started to sink in, you felt a presence at your side, and there she was—Himeno. Without missing a beat, she slid her arm around yours and Aki’s, drawing both of you closer with an effortless ease that seemed to diffuse the tension around you. Her voice cut through the silence with cheerful bravado, clearly meant to distract any lingering gazes. “There you two are! I was just talking to someone about how great it was being able to catch up with you the other day.”

Himeno cast you a knowing glance, a subtle grin that held an unspoken promise of discretion. With a skill that only she could pull off, she steered the conversation into safer territory, dropping a casual comment about the last mission, something innocuous that allowed you to breathe again.

Then, the three of you kept walking. The onlookers returned to their business.

You managed a laugh, though it felt a bit too high-pitched, a bit too forced. But Himeno kept up the chatter, her presence a welcome buffer as she guided you and Aki through the crowded hall, almost as though she was giving the onlookers a reason to lose interest. Her laughter and bright words cast a shield around the three of you, and for a moment, it worked. The weight of the stares started to lift, the sharpness of their gazes fading into a hum of background noise.

“We’re getting our drink on later, right?” She asked Aki– or you, you weren’t really sure.

“I’m supposed to drive home,” Aki answered.

She pouted, “So what? Call a taxi.”

“I’ll have a few with you,” You said. “But only a few.”

You fell into the flow of conversation as best you could, though it was hard to focus with your nerves still on edge. Every now and then, you caught Aki’s gaze as he glanced at you, brow knit slightly in concern, but you both played along, letting Himeno’s words carry the rhythm.

But then, just as you started to relax, to settle back into the night, you spotted him over Aki’s shoulder. Your husband had arrived, standing at the edge of the crowd, his gaze scanning the room. Your stomach dropped, a sick feeling clawing its way up as you tried to think – then he saw you.

What the hell is he doing here?

Before you could even process the thought, he began walking closer, his face composed, unreadable. Panic set in as you realized the impossible tightrope you were balancing on, and you tried to steady your breathing, to keep your expression neutral. Did he know? Or would he just see you as he always did, like you were any other guest in the room?

You tried to shake off the feeling, to rejoin the conversation, but the momentary calm had vanished. Your thoughts raced as you walked through the crowd, navigating the distance between yourself and your husband like it was a dangerous line.

You turned your back, saying, “You buying?”

“It’s an open bar,” She replied. You tried to look normal, to get lost in the sound of her voice, but it didn’t work, “Miss Makima is buying.”

The moment you heard that unmistakable voice behind you, it felt like your heart froze mid-beat.

“Hi, honey,” your husband’s voice cut through the buzz of the room, smooth and calm. But there was an edge to it, one that sent a jolt of dread straight down your spine.

You saw Aki’s head perk up, and his eyes narrowed, sharpening into thin slits as he turned, locking his gaze on your husband with a quiet, intense focus. His stance shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly—his hands folded neatly behind his back, his expression unreadable yet taut. He looked every bit the Lieutenant Captain he was, poised and formidable, the easy-going demeanor from earlier vanishing in an instant.

"So, you’re the husband I’ve heard so much about!” Himeno chirped, trying to cover the tension with her usual bravado, stepping forward with a bright smile. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and squeezed, as though the gesture could somehow shield you from the impending disaster.

Your husband’s half-lidded gaze shifted briefly to her, though his smile barely reached his eyes. "And you are?” His tone was polite, but you could hear the skepticism in it, that subtle doubt as his gaze lingered over Himeno's shoulder, his eyes landing back on Aki, scrutinizing.

You tried to swallow down the knot tightening in your throat, forcing yourself to maintain a calm expression. “Tanimoto, this is Himeno, one of my coworkers,” you said, gesturing to her with a forced, polite smile. Your heart was racing, a nervous energy simmering under your skin, knowing that everything hung by a thread.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tanimoto nodded, acknowledging Himeno with a quick glance, but his focus quickly returned to Aki, whose steely gaze met his head-on. Neither of them seemed inclined to look away.

This is bad. You felt your pulse spike, every instinct screaming that this was the worst possible situation, an unthinkable confrontation playing out right in front of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Hayakawa,�� you said, gesturing to Aki with a shaky smile, “This is my— my husband, Tanimoto.”

Why was that so hard to say?

Your husband’s expression flickered as he finally extended his hand—only to Aki. The move felt deliberate, his gesture one of formal politeness rather than genuine warmth. Aki glanced down at the outstretched hand, his face unreadable, but made no move to take it.

“Kyoto, right?” Aki asked instead, his tone flat, as if the question itself were a test.

Tanimoto’s brow quirked slightly, but he kept his expression controlled. “Yes. You’re familiar?”

Aki held his gaze, his tone unyielding. “I’m Lieutenant Captain. It’s my job.”

“I’m saying I don’t know what you thought you were doing in Tokyo,” he said, his voice rising. “But word travels in Public Safety. There are rumors about you dancing around with a little Captain, or some shit.”

A flicker of surprise crossed your husband’s face, a slight widening of his eyes as he absorbed the title, the unexpected rank that carried a weight all its own. But he recovered quickly, giving a polite nod. “Of course. My apologies,” he said, with a practiced smoothness.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, the air thick with an unspoken tension that felt fucking electric.

Himeno, sensing the palpable strain, chimed in with a bright smile. “Well, it’s always nice to meet family! We’re so glad you could join us, even if just for a little bit.” Her voice had an airy quality to it, intentionally lighthearted, but you could see the slight worry in her eyes as she glanced between you and Aki.

Tanimoto didn’t answer her right away. He kept his gaze on Aki a beat longer, then turned to you, his smile settling into something unreadable. “Would you mind if I steal my lovely wife away? Just for a moment?”

Himeno’s gaze flicked to you, silently asking if you were alright.

You managed a quick nod, and she gave a cheery, “Of course! We’ll be right here when you get back.” Her tone was bright as always, her words meant as reassurance as she gently released her grip on you.

The moment Himeno stepped back, Tanimoto turned and started toward a quieter area a few feet away, his posture rigid. Your heart thundered as you took a breath, then stepped forward, catching up to him as you plastered on a smile, though the pulse in your throat felt thick, tense.

“I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, neutral.

“Meeting let up early,” he answered, his voice clipped. His gaze scanned the room briefly, as though he were evaluating everything around him. “I came to take you home.”

He was mad.

Your heart dropped, and you barely suppressed the urge to step back. You forced a casual smile, though your chest tightened as you tried to gauge his expression.

"What?" You asked, laughter bubbling up, sounding forced to your own ears. "No, that won’t be necessary."

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder. Aki was still talking to Himeno, but you could feel his blue eyes on you every few seconds, a silent question in his gaze each time it flickered your way. You swallowed, steadying yourself.

"I’m staying. I’ll catch a taxi back," You added, hoping it sounded convincing, though your voice wavered slightly. “The party just started, like, an hour ago.”

Tanimoto’s expression hardened, suspicion flickering over his face as he regarded you. He hesitated, his eyes narrowing as if weighing your words. A long, tense moment passed before he sighed, the sound reluctant, yet resigned. "Alright," he replied slowly. "But don’t be out too late."

He stepped forward to kiss you on the cheek, his lips nearing, and instinctively, you winced, ducking away before he could reach you. His expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked it, a smile slipping over his features like an ill-fitting glove.

This is horrible.

There was a beat of silence, a silent acknowledgment that neither of you addressed. Then he straightened, nodding curtly.

"Well," he said, glancing over at Aki and Himeno, "Excuse me for interrupting. Nice meeting you all."

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way to the exit, his footsteps echoing as he left the hall. You exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding over you as the tension began to dissipate.

Himeno was instantly at your side, her expression half-amused, half-concerned as she watched him disappear. "Thanks for covering," you murmured, your shoulders sagging as you let yourself relax for the first time since he’d arrived.

She gave you a sly grin, patting your arm gently. "No problem," she said, shooting a quick glance at Aki, who was watching you both carefully, his arms crossed, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. "But we’ll need to talk later, girl," she added, her voice low and teasing, though there was a note of worry in her eyes.

Aki’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, a flicker of relief passing over his face. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he would have a lot to say later.

Himeno cleared her throat, “So… would now be a good time to hit up that bar?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” You sighed, turning away from Aki’s piercing gaze. You couldn’t bear to look at him. No, you were ashamed. Polishing off the rest of your wine in one go, you added, “I need something stronger than this.”

As the night went on, the conversation began to flow a little easier – as did the booze. In fact, by the time the party was drawing to a close, the three of you were completely inebriated. Himeno had that pinkish flush to her face that you remembered so well. Aki was practically slumped over after his (??)th cocktail of the night. You were blinking tiredly at Himeno, at whatever story she was telling you that you hadn’t been listening to.

The three of you were stood outside of the venue. Arms crossed over your body to brace yourself against the cold wind, you replied, “That’s bull.”

“That’s what I said!” Himeno slurred. “I told him to quit playing in my face. It’s a real problem – men, these days.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” You agreed half-assedly, gaze trickling over to your lover, whose eyes were glazed over with a drunken look. He was in no shape to drive back, that was for sure. “Aki, are you driving home?”

“Yeah, I…” He swallowed, swaying slightly on his feet – at six-foot-something, he looked like a skyscraper, bending in the wind. Slowly, like he had to think extra hard about it, he continued, “Yeah… I am.”

“I don’t think so,” Himeno answered before you could say the same thing. “You should call a taxi.”

“Taxis are for wussies,” Aki grumbled beneath his breath. Still, when you cast him a pout, he stepped towards the curb.

So cute.

The wind outside the venue felt sharper against your flushed skin, biting through the remnants of warmth left over from the drinks. You crossed your arms over your chest, bracing against the chill, though the sight of Aki swaying slightly on his feet in his drunken stupor was enough to bring a small smile to your face.

“Come on, Aki. Be sensible,” you coaxed, giving him a soft pout of your own.

He sighed, reluctantly stepping toward the curb to wave a taxi down. It was cute, watching him try to flag one down with all the determination he could muster, though most cars drove past him without so much as slowing down.

Himeno leaned in, nudging you gently. “He doesn’t look so hot. Maybe you should see him home safe?”

You sighed, glancing over at Aki as he cursed at a passing taxi. “You’re probably right.”

He grumbled something incoherent, swaying a bit as another cab sped past him.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “What a night.”

“What a night, indeed, girly.” Himeno pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag before she exhaled into the cold night air. She held the pack toward you, her eyes half-lidded with a mixture of exhaustion and tipsy satisfaction. You declined politely, and she shrugged, tucking it back into her bag.

“So… you cab-hopping with us?” you asked, feeling a bit of reluctance at the thought of her leaving.

She shook her head, her lips curving into a sly grin. “Nah. When you drink on the daily, driving comes naturally.” She waved you off with a lazy salute.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a taxi slowed to a stop at the curb, and Aki staggered up to it, gesturing for you to get in. “It’s for you,” he called, the words a bit slurred. “Get you home safe.”

You stepped closer, folding your arms and giving him a playful look. “I’m coming home with you,” you called back.

His eyes widened, and then, he smirked, one of those warm, lazy smiles that made your heart skip. “I like the sound of that.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Just get in the damn taxi. I wanna say bye, first.”

He pouted but got in, slumping down and muttering to the driver, half-lidded eyes still on you as he settled into the seat.

You turned back to Himeno, laughing softly. “Get home safe, okay?”

She took another drag of her cigarette, her gaze softening a bit. “You too. And make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn’t puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah?”

You grinned. “I’ll see you around?”

“Always,” she replied, giving you a wink as she turned, already headed back inside the venue.

With one last glance, you slipped into the taxi, shutting the door behind you. The driver pulled away, and you relaxed into the seat, feeling the tension of the night start to ebb. Aki was staring out the window, a soft smile on his face, and when he caught sight of you beside him, his expression softened.

As the taxi moved through the quiet streets, Aki’s head lulled to the side, and he let out a small sigh before resting it against your shoulder. You stiffened at first, the unexpected weight and warmth of him surprising. But he looked so peaceful, so unguarded in this moment that you felt the tightness in your shoulders ease.

“Missed you,” he murmured, his voice soft and heavy with drowsiness, each word dragging as if he were only half-awake.

In a rare, unfiltered moment of abandon, he leaned further into you, snuggling against your shoulder shamelessly, letting out a contented hum. You found yourself smiling softly, letting your head rest against his for just a moment, savoring the quiet intimacy that had so rarely been yours to enjoy.

“Aki, don’t be a baby,” You laughed.

Aki pressed a wet kiss to your neck, then another. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress,” He slurred against your skin.

A part of you yearned for nothing more than that. Still, one spare glance over at him, at the way he was practically slumped over you – six feet of man nearly crushing you – and you knew no such thing was happening.

Sure, you thought to yourself.

Five minutes later, you finally managed to steer him through the front door. Once you reached the bed, Aki all but collapsed onto it, sprawling out immediately, limbs splayed as he peered up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze that was both bleary and endearing. You stood over him, shaking your head as you reached for his blazer, fumbling a little with the sleeves as he sat half-propped up, his arms nearly dead weight in your hands.

“Gotta take this off,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, as you tugged the blazer free. He blinked at you, a sleepy smile pulling at his lips.

“Come to bed,” he drawled, his words stretching out as he reached for you, pulling you down so you were inches from him.

“Just a minute,” you promised with a soft laugh, brushing his hand away gently. “I’m just going to take my shoes off. Be right back.”

Reluctantly, he released his hold on you, and you watched him flop back, eyes following you with a warm, bleary gaze as you walked over to his dresser. After a moment’s thought, you pulled open one of the drawers and found an old T-shirt—soft and worn from years of wear—and slipped it out, holding it close as you headed to the bathroom.

Inside, you closed the door behind you, taking a steadying breath as you caught your reflection in the mirror. You looked a little undone, your makeup smudged, hair slightly tousled, but the dress… it still looked good, clinging to you in all the right places. You took one last look, savoring the way you looked tonight, then slipped out of the dress, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. You reached for the T-shirt, pulling it over your head and letting it drape down, its fabric oversized and comfortable against your skin, smelling faintly of him.

The mirror caught your eye again as you reached for his face wash, and with a soft smile, you lathered it up between your hands, then began gently washing away the remnants of your makeup, the cool water a refreshing relief on your skin. Rinsing off the last traces, you looked up at your reflection, a little softer now, a little more natural—and somehow, that felt even better.

With a final glance at the mirror, you turned off the faucet and padded back to the bedroom, where Aki lay sprawled out, just as you’d left him, his eyes now closed. Smiling, you climbed into bed beside him, careful not to disturb him too much, though as soon as you settled, he shifted instinctively, rolling toward you. His arm draped over you, heavy but comforting, and he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“Aki,” you whispered with a grin, your hand brushing gently over his back. “I have to go… my husband…”

He hummed, barely conscious, and mumbled, “Few more minutes…” His hand curled a little tighter around you as if refusing to let go.

You bit back a quiet laugh and let yourself relax, resting one hand on his shoulder as the other threaded through his hair. You traced gentle circles into his scalp, brushing his hair back, and he settled deeper into sleep, his breathing falling into a soft, steady rhythm.

Settling down beside him, you let out a quiet, contented sigh as Aki instinctively rolled toward you, his arm slipping over your waist with a sleepy possessiveness. His face nestled close to your neck, and you could feel the faint warmth of his breath against your skin, soft and steady, a rhythm that seemed to calm your own heartbeat. You stayed still for a moment, just letting yourself savor the feeling of his weight pressing into you, grounding you, his entire presence a heavy warmth against your side.

With a gentle smile, you shifted, letting your hand drift to his hair, fingers sinking into the soft, inky strands that spilled over his forehead and brushed against his closed eyelids. His hair was messy from the night, a few pieces sticking up in places, and the sight filled you with a deep tenderness. Slowly, you began to run your fingers through it, smoothing it back gently, and as you did, you felt him release a soft sigh, his body relaxing even more fully into the mattress.

You let your fingertips trace along his scalp in gentle, rhythmic strokes, moving from his forehead back to the nape of his neck, where the hair grew slightly coarser. He let out a little contented murmur, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shifted closer to you, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if to keep you there. The sound he made was so endearing, so soft, that it made you ache with a fondness that was almost too much to hold inside.

As your hand moved along the curve of his head, brushing back a few loose strands that had fallen over his eyes, you let your thumb trace softly along his temple, feeling the slight warmth of his skin beneath it. He looked so peaceful, his usual furrowed brow now relaxed, his sharp features softened in sleep. You could see the faint shadows under his eyes—traces of all the late nights and worries that weighed on him more than he let on—and it made you wish you could keep him like this, in this tranquil state, where everything was quiet and safe.

You continued petting his hair, your hand moving with a tender slowness, tracing little circles along his scalp, letting your fingertips drift along his hairline. Occasionally, he’d mumble something incoherent in his sleep, his lips barely moving as he settled deeper into slumber, his face nuzzling closer to the crook of your neck. You could feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin, a light, tickling sensation that made you smile.

Minutes stretched on in a warm, quiet haze as you watched him, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips parted slightly in relaxation. At one point, he murmured something close to a whisper, his arm curling around you a little tighter, and you couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him—something warm and grounding that seemed to soothe something deep within you.

As the clock ticked on toward 11 p.m., you felt a small pang of reluctance, knowing you’d have to get up soon, but still, you waited a few moments longer. You let yourself linger, your hand threading through his hair one last time, your thumb brushing over his cheek in a gentle, barely-there caress. Aki let out a final, contented sigh, his breathing deep and even, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest as you realized he was fully, blissfully asleep.

At last, with a soft exhale, you began to ease yourself out of his hold, moving slowly so as not to wake him, your fingers slipping away from his hair. You brushed one last stray lock from his forehead before gently shifting off the bed, giving him one last fond look as he lay there, still wrapped in peaceful dreams – dreams which you could only hope were about you.

407… 408… 409… 410. You drunkenly read the numbers off of the wall as you stumbled towards you and your husband’s hotel room. 413.. 413… 413! Found it.

You opened the door with the key quietly, as if it would make any difference. Your husband could have slept through anything. Gently, you opened the door, and shut it behind you even more gently. When you were sure that he was still asleep, you kicked your heels off – yes, you got into a cab wearing Aki’s tee as a dress to accompany your high heels. Your dress was tucked beneath your arm.

It was dark in the room. So dark, in fact, that you could hardly see your own two legs as they moved towards the bedroom.

Is he here? You thought to yourself. Your heart rate climbed at the prospect of him leaving – perhaps he had sniffed you out, after all?

Just then, someone – your husband, assumedly – flicked the lamp on. He was sat directly beneath it, perched in the loveseat with a book propped open in his hands.

Since when did he read? You thought. And what’s with the freaky lighting?

Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat, you spoke, “You reading in the dark?”

He said nothing. With a shrug, you set your belongings down on the desk.

“Sorry I’m back so late. I had to bring Himeno home,” You huffed out a humorless little laugh. “She drank too much for her own good.”

Again, he said nothing. You froze, eyes locking onto the figure settled beneath the lamp – the figure of the man you used to love. The lamp above him cast shadows across his face, catching on the edges of his cheekbones and making his eyes seem hollowed, calculating.

Slowly, he closed his book, fingers lingering over the cover as he looked up at you, his expression unreadable. There was a hint of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes—disappointment, or maybe anger, simmering just beneath the surface.

“I stayed up to talk to you,” he said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was low, calm, but something about it made you feel small, like a child caught in a lie.

“Oh?” you managed, swallowing down the uneasy feeling that had been growing in your chest. “About what?”

His gaze never left you as he spoke, his voice coldly measured. “I wanted to tell you that you might, by indiscretion, give the world a reason to talk about you.”

“I’m not a committee,” you replied, attempting a casual smile, though it came off more strained than you’d intended. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward, his fingers laced together. “You and Captain Hayakawa attracted attention tonight.” His voice remained even, though you caught a flicker of something sharp in his gaze. “I didn’t notice anything myself, but it seems everyone else did.”

Shit.

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “What on earth are you talking about?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Look, I’ve told you this before, and I’ll say it again. I have no right to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. Your decisions concern only your moral compass. But I wanted to remind you that we are married, bound by god. Only a sin against him can break that bond.”

You felt a swell of frustration, heat rising in your cheeks. “I would hardly consider conversation to be a sin.”

He cocked his head, his eyes narrowed as if dissecting you, trying to catch the slightest falter. “A conversation is just what we see,” he said quietly. “Who knows what could have happened while you were out… gallivanting?”

The accusation, so thinly veiled, made you go rigid. “You’re accusing me, then?” you said, a slight tremor in your voice. “Accusing me of… cheating?”

“I never said that.” His gaze remained steady, unwavering. “Unless, of course, there’s something you’re not telling me?”

The words struck a nerve, and you bit back an exasperated sigh, the tension inside you bubbling over. “You don’t like it when I don’t talk to people, and you don’t like it when I do,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Stop doing that… that thing where you talk circles around me. It’s too late for this.”

The room felt suffocating, his presence weighing heavily on you, pressing down until you couldn’t take it anymore. Turning on your heel, you began to make your way to the bathroom, needing a moment of quiet, a second to breathe. He moved as if to follow, but you held up a hand, not looking back.

“Don’t follow me,” you said, the words barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you.

Without another glance, you walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You took a breath and stared into the mirror. Reaching up, you began to undo your hair, tugging pins free one by one. With each one that dropped onto the counter, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders, and finally, you let your hair fall loose, watching it spill over your shoulders.

The door creaked, and you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror as your husband appeared in the doorway. His silhouette was softened by the dim lighting, but his expression held that same guarded intensity.

“If I’m wrong, then… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. For a brief moment, you saw something else there—maybe regret, maybe exhaustion.

You’re not. You’re completely right. I'm having an affair.

We’re in love.

I want a divorce.

You took a steadying breath, choosing your words carefully, though it was hard to keep the bitterness from your tone. “You are.” Letting the silence settle between you, you finally added, “Can we just… go to bed, please?”

He nodded, exhaling softly as he moved back toward the bedroom. After taking a final glance in the mirror, you followed, feeling an ache that settled somewhere deep inside you, one that even the cool darkness couldn’t soothe.

He had already slid beneath the covers when you came in, lying on his side with his back to you, the silence between you stretching out uncomfortably. You climbed into bed beside him, the mattress dipping as you shifted into your usual place, though tonight it felt almost foreign.

In the quiet, words bubbled up unbidden, slipping past your lips in a murmur to yourself. “Too late.”

“Missed you,” Aki gasped, pressing his palms deep into your lower back, pushing you down a little further. When he thrusted forward, the car jolted.

You thought of his words from earlier – his comment about makeup sex being the best way to reconnect after time apart. And, shit, he was right. As he fucked you open only a few miles away from the hotel where your husband was fast asleep, you couldn’t have agreed more.

You cried out for him, fingers digging into the leather seats of his car. He was so fucking deep – it was driving you crazy.

“Aki,” You breathed out his name – two simple syllables, a trick of the tongue as it rolled off with ease. It felt so good to have him like this after going so long without seeing him. The two of you were entangled in the backseat – you, face down with your back arched all the way up while he took you from behind at an angle so brutal it had you drooling all over leather seats. Your slushies were getting warm in the cupholders, long forgotten.

Every time his hips were flush up against your ass, you could do nothing but claw harder, moan louder, worship him. Desperately, you rutted your hips back.

“Mis– Missed you t-too,” You managed to stutter out.

“Oh, fuck,” He sighed. “Cum with me, baby. I love you.”

You loved him too. More than he knew. So much so, in fact, that you fell over the edge only a moment later with an, “I love you, too!”

You loved him with your entire body and soul.

a/n: im not gonna say much, but i will say that i hope you enjoyed this fluffy little chapter! the next one will be a much harder read. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki fluff #aki smut #denji #aki hayakawa

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grandisknight · 5 months ago

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ykw seeing the stuff about zayne and his parents reminds me of how when they were younger, zayne would come over to grandma’s to have dinner with caleb and mc before… so guess what

headcanon time ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎

a scenario where young fem!mc, young!caleb, and young!zayne end up spending the weekend together under particular cirumstances

(semi)tags: mostly fluff, a pinch of angst if you squint, light-hearted, she/her pronouns for mc, takes place when they’re kids, not beta read bc it’s just a lil drabble

standing at the doorsteps of a familiar residence, zayne was quieter than usual, gaze downcast in harmony because once again his parents have to go overseas—it’s another case of them needing doctors in their speciality so of course they answered the call, though it would be for a couple of days…

normally zayne wouldn’t mind too much, is used to his parents traveling the world for their work but this time it’s closer to his birthday, and for once he was hoping they could sit down together to have presents and whatnot

but he understands all the same, his parents promise they’ll have a weekend of fun once they come back so it’ll be alright, they’ll make sure to call him on the day of (also have prepared his gift in advance for him, though he’ll find that out later)

so they decide leave him in grandma’s care for the duration they’re gone, it’s in the neighborhood and grandma josephine is basically second family at this point

zayne’s parents give josephine a knowing look of apology once more when the elderly woman greets them at the steps, but she only waves them off and welcomes zayne in with open and warm arms as usual (they know he’ll be in good hands through and through)

zayne’s parents send him off with one last hug and kiss, a slightly ruffle to his hair before they had to catch their flight and zayne just quietly waved at them as josephine leads him inside

“come now, i’m making dinner so the food won’t be ready for a bit; leave your bags at the stairs, we can bring it to your room later,” josephine would gently tell him, patting his shoulder before heading back to the kitchen to continue her meal prep

zayne nods, heads towards the bottom of the staircase where he hears two voices from a distance, muffled at first before it draws closer

“you cheated!” a girl would pout, a tinge of hurt in her voice

“no waay pipsqueak, it’s not my fault i had the better cards” and the boy, closer to zayne’s age, would snicker

finally, mc and caleb come into view from the top of the stairs, both which are excited to see their friend has a paid visit (they only found out today, having eavesdropped on josephine’s phone call)

“zayne! you’re really here?!” mc bouncing down the stairs, almost tumbling from excitement and caleb carefully walking behind, making sure she doesn’t fall

“mhm,” zayne would confirm calmly, watching the two stop just a step before him

“i heard from gran your parents are goin’ away for a bit,” caleb points out, revealing he knew more than what mc had heard and her brows raise in ‘ooh!’ realization

zayne’s hands around his bag tighten at the mention, after all he’s still a young boy and a bit emotional so naturally being reminded of the circumstances makes him a bit sad

“yeah. so i’ll be here for a while.” zayne does his best to be nonchalant, but mc noticed all the same

mc, tilting her head and reaching out to press the cheek that seemed to be sulking, “don’t worry, we’re here for you! i’ll teach you how to play these new cards gran got me”

“should he really be learning from someone who lost twice in a row?” caleb would snicker, earning an elbow to the side and a frowning mc

“what matters is that we’ll have fun together,” mc ignores the taunt entirely, reaches out her hand to zayne in earnest “and that’ll start now, c’mon!”

caleb would take zayne’s bag then, tossing it over his shoulder and offering him a grin, “yeah, let’s go, see if we’ll have a new reigning champ to add to pipsqueak’s losing streak”

“ugh, caleb!” mc would yell after the boy who had already began ascending the steps once more, and when they see zayne stood there, frozen in slight disbelief, she would tug his hand forward and firmly clasp it with hers

“lets go, birthday boy, i’ll go easy on you, it’ll be my present to you,” mc would say, gently tugging zayne along

to which, zayne hadn’t noticed how warm his hand felt until then, and the smile on his face that slowly began to unfurl as he nodded, led by mc and into a night of playing games and banter until the kids were called for dinner by josephine

#love and deepspace #zayne #caleb #grandisknight musings #gklnd #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace scenarios #love and deepspace imagines #lads zayne #lnds zayne #lnd zayne #l&ds zayne #lads caleb #lnds caleb #lnd caleb #l&ds caleb

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 1 year ago

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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ i thought about this plot over and over, and I hesitated publishing it since i don’t want to deviate so much from everything but i said fuck it, so now ere i am, greeting y’all with ‘wassup villain’

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @shuna-boin

⚠️ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⚠️ Mommy issues, mention of death,, profane language, plot progression. Pronouns keep shifting bc Miles thinks you’re a guy. A bit confusing? Anyways, congrats with your debut. I’ve got uh.. A little surprise? Enjoy.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

"Park behind the building B, McLaren. I’ll have to deal with a separate matter, for now, call backup."

"Yes, miss."

Ring. Ring.

Your head pivots at the sound of your phone’s ringing, eagerly answering the call without having to look into the ID, knowing a thing or two about a certain someone’s timing.

“What’s going on so early in the morning?” Your father haggardly asks. You could already smell the stench of his morning breath from the car.

“We have trespassers in the Warehouse.” You start. “Two of them, partners. The duo we know as the Prowlers.”

“What?” You hear the morning grogginess laced in his voice. “Who leaked the information?”

“I’ve updated Morrison and he’s currently investigating the black market. I suspect a traitor.”

“Evidence?”

“There’d been no reports of outsiders entering the vicinity. All employees have been given fake addresses and all of their gadgets have been monitored— and so far, no one’s been flagged, so my guess is.. A higher up who’s sold us out.”

There you go.

“… I’ll look into it.” Your father mumbles. “Make sure that nothing is released into the media. The election is coming soon, we don’t want to do anything that’ll stir the public.”

“Understood.”

And the call ends just like that.

You blankly look at the road ahead of you, skin itching from the tightness and texture of your leather coat. Laid before your lap was a flat screen, in it were nine boxes— each playing a variety of scenes brought to you by the hidden cameras. Across every box, two swift figures maneuvered past the rooms with incredible ease. Several workers and scientists were sprawled across the jagged floors, motionless like corpses. You grimaced at the possibility of them being dead, but after seeing the thick gas emanating throughout every crevice of the building, you safely assumed that they were simply knocked out.

The Warehouse housed one of your father's investments; an Oscorp-Alchemax experiment funded by the elites, done underground and tested on prisoners to find some sort of super serum. When the new money folks thrusted themselves into the world of High society, most of the higher elites came to applaud the idea of one man.

Harry Osborn.

As a kid, you grew up aspiring to be like Harry. Always so friendly and approachable to anyone and everyone he’s ever met.

He did it so effortlessly that you recognized his niceness as a talent.

Harry came from second generation money— hailing this scientific empire called Oscorp. Having been brought up by his father, Norman, who was an industrialist, Harry was all things sciencey.

After his father's death, Harry sought out a blueprint of his father's past works, finding a journal containing the records of several hypotheses in regard to a variety of drugs. A sort of instruction to turn into a superhuman being, he claims, that his father had put into mind but never really practiced.

A handful of the higher-ups adored the impressionable idea, one of its primary investors being your father. You never really understood his reasons, but when the drug seemingly began showing fruitful results, your father set you up under Antonne's name to supervise Warehouse 317 after Harry entrusted your family to house the experiment.

So at that moment, you weren't you.

And Miles wasn't Miles.

He didn’t know what he was doing here. But he never bothered to really ask since his Uncle seemed tense all throughout the journey.

When Aaron told him to strap up for a sudden mission, he wasn't expecting a raid— nor was he expecting him to bring him to a hidden laboratory containing all these alien-like fuckeries. From glass beakers to drums filled to the brim with some sort of neon liquid, it all varied in levels of strangeness. Everywhere he looked, he could find the same circular, yellow warning sticker staring right back at him. Behind his digital mask, he skims past the unconscious workers— checking every crevice to see if anyone had escaped the incapacitating agent.

“According to the drive, the stuff are located in the north building.” His uncle’s voice snaps him out of the haze. “I’ll be heading there. I’m sure you can fend for yourself?”

“F’course I can,” Miles answered. “I can knock a bitch or two out with these.” He grinned while unfoldding his claw.

“You kiss your mama with that mouth? Watch yo tongue.”

“Yes, sir.”

Aaron pats his shoulder. “Record the evidence, I’ll go find the blueprints.”

With a single nod, Miles sets off with his mission in mind. When the holographic interface materializes from his wrist-mounted control panel, he activates the scanner with a light tap. The digitalized purple light cascades over the room, gathering physical data with each passing step.

He prided in his cut-edge tech— developed into great usage by his and his uncle’s hands. In a way, it reassured him that he had epically great potential, despite the current crisis going on in the city. But of course, his greatest pride was the fact that you liked the idea of the Prowler. That alone harbored him confidence he never knew he had.

Miles never initially thought of himself as a hero, no matter how much he’s worked to save the lower class of New York. Heroes existed in the confines of comic books and kids’ TV shows. He wasn’t super, and he wasn’t a hero either. The term was black and white. Narcissistic, as you would put it.

But he liked playing along to the idea of being a superhero to you.

He wanted you to gawk and admire his vigilante identity. He wanted you to look at the TV early in the morning with a mug of coffee in your hands, pointing at the screen with a squeal, ‘It’s the Prowler!’

Most of all, he wanted you to know about it eventually.

When he passes by the computers, Miles heads straight for the manila folders, unraveling his gauntlet just to grasp the files better.

[ 11 | 10 | 2020 ]

•[𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: #𝟷𝟷𝟹𝟸] 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟻𝟼

𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.

𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

With the slightest jolt of his palm, the paper crumbles, and behind it sat another file. He peers through it diligently, only to find a name signed at the bottom.

And it crumples from the clamp of his fist.

Anthony Primo-Chávez.

The surname, Primo-Chávez, was the household name of the family who owns the Primm Hotel, and a single mention of it alone only reignited the anger he was sparing for the upcoming plans. All of the rage he kept to himself was seeping out the cracks of his still-grieving heart, and the grief remained a permanent scar.

And with a whisper of the wind, the warehouse falls into darkness.

There was this chill crawling up his back, and it haunted him. And in the silence that surrounded him, he calls out for his uncle.

And it echoes, and echoes. No one replies. Only the silence answered to his desperate calls. At that point, all that he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating out of his chest— a sort of morbid reminder that he was still alive. It made him wonder if that was all his father heard when he was trapped beneath the fallen carcass all those years ago. Just like that carcass, in the midst of all that darkness, screams begin to bellow.

Oh. One of the scientists have woken up.

But all Miles could picture was all what could’ve happened that night, when everything fell apart. Did they scream like this? Call out for help like this? Did his father struggle to breathe like this?

A lone light shines above the metal rails— a watch window, large and square, gleaming in this daunt violent that flickered and flickered. There was a figure there, dark, willowy, and invasive in the way it stared.

Unmoving, watching. A gaze that lingered like the chill running down his back.

What did they do in here?

Like a croak, the question bubbles up his throat and releases.

“Who are you?”

Like a growl, the voice changer emits the query a too many tones lower. At that question, the being tilts its head.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Velvety, low, exhausted— and it oozed from the broadcaster mic like a tease. You stared at the Prowler, almost amused by his size. From above, he seemed much tinier, like less of a threat. You feel your breath cascade against the lenses of your gas mask, sweat sticking to the leather of your gloves. There, you see the digitalized magenta and the gleam of his steel claws, as though he meant to intimidate. You stood partially befuddled at the fact that the vigilante everyone revered and loathed was likely a teenager.

“… You don’t know what this place is, don’t you?”

Ｂ　Ｏ　Ｏ　Ｍ.

The wall beside him crumbles into dust.

Miles shields himself from the impact, the cement’s fumes blinding his sights. Upon the activation of his night vision, he searches in behind the violet screen, finding only his uncle emerging from the smoke and debris, rushing with a USB in his hands. Behind him, a flock of guards came rushing in with their ray guns— flames of red bursting into a shower as the man signaled him to run.

Miles casts a quick glance at the window above.

No one’s there.

“ＥＶＡＣＵＡＴＥＡＬＬＥＭＰＬＯＹＥＥＳ

ＩＭＭＥＤＩＡＴＥＬＹ. ＩＭＭＥＤＩＡＴＥＬＹ.”

The digital voice commands along with a blaring alarm.

The warehouse that housed this elaborate labyrinth, it continued on and on like a maze. Bland green tiles and white walls, glass screens— like a pattern he immediately grew to dislike. It all went on and on like a fever dream, but Miles’ head was ringing with the sight of the man he saw up the window.

And he lays it all out in his mind, trying to piece it altogether.

Ｂ　Ｏ　Ｏ　Ｍ．

The walls click and collapse, and the floors shake, but Miles doesn’t look back. The sound of the guards’ heavy stomps cease though, eventually replaced with a sort of screech that irked his ears.

It was unfamiliar to him. He’s faced over a hundred bad people, but only the sight of that being unsettled him more than the rest.

“Up ahead!”

He watches as his Uncle heads right out the window with a fall, the shards ricocheting behind him like specs of snow as he throws a carabiner right back at Miles to snatch. His fingers thinly reach for the cord when he’s suddenly assaulted to the ground with a powerful force.

Ｃ　Ｒ　Ａ　Ｓ　Ｈ.

“Agh!” He grumbles in pain, rolling down to the ground. But even then, it wasn’t the pain that made every hair on his limb stand, it was the sound of your heeled boots clicking against the tiles, and the sound of your metal blade scraping against the wall.

“Mornin’, Prowler.”

Exhaustion made the delivery deeper. He senses it in you, and you sense it him. Though he was unaware of what your head was actually filled of, I’ve got a lecture at nine, I still have to do my literature essay, and I want to sleep. Miles wasn’t all that interested at all in what your mind bore. To be fair, from where he was, Miles only saw this figure towering over him with a long knife poking out its sleeve. Some gas mask, and a black leather coat. Even then as you stood above him, he could only watch as you fixed your gloves, pulling farther beneath your sleeve.

“It’s an honor to meet you like this.”

Fwip. With a crisp cut, the cord that connected him to his partner was severed. You throw it out the window along with the metal piece. “I’m not so usually cruel, but you’re trespassing my family’s property—“

“So this is your family’s property.” He stands back up, hands aching to fight. “Primo-Chávez. As I recognized.”

He claws at you, but instead, the metal meets the end of your unsheathed blade with a clink!

“You’re smart.” And when you pull away, he stumbles backward. “Let’s see if that’ll save you.”

Crack! The walls quivered as Miles narrowly avoided the blade aimed for his neck. He raises his gauntlets, lunging right at you with swift punches, to which you countered gracefully with quick blocks. Eventually, he manages to take hold of your shoulders, shoving you back with feet tangled like knots. You lower down and hook your heel over his ankle, pulling with force as he falters.

You crack your neck, pressing your heel over his shoulder to keep him down. “I’ll be honest with you, I think you’re awfully underwhelming.” You lean down to his level, musing yourself in the way he heaved.

“But I can forgive all that.” Your fingers fiddle with the strap of his backpack. “You’re useful in a way—“

With a gauntlet over your neck, he slams you against the wall.

“I ain’t working for nobody,” He churned. “And I definitely won’t be fucking working for people like you.”

“I never said you had to work for me.” You calmly replied despite his grip. “You just have to make better decisions from now on.”

“Fuck you mean by that?”

From the ache your neck bore, you knew it was gonna leave a bruise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”

He furrows his brows at that statement, holding himself back as he taunts. “… I wonder how your father is going to abandon you once I set this little investment of his on fire.”

Rather than the silence or panic he hoped, Miles heard you laugh.

“Do it.” You playfully suggest. “Do it, and kill all the other interns, employees, and guards in here.” Despite your façade, he could still sense the smirk creeping up your lips. “Then think to yourself, ask yourself; are you any better than my family?”

That alone catches him by surprise.

“… You’ve got a lot to learn.”

“What do you m—“ Before he could even finish off his sentence, a powerful strike ricochets into his stomach, sending him off to the other wall. A loud grunt emanates from his lips, hands gripping the lower of his belly as you set your foot down. “The next time we meet, do promise me that you’ll be much more of a promising opponent. Today was.. Eventless.” Your gaze sets sights on the camera hidden in the corner.

“For now, I’ll have to let someone else do the job.”

As though on cue, you see his partner rush in with the broken cord in his hand. The same broken cord you’d thrown out. Without another word, he lunges at you with lightning speed, and the way you collide with the glass wall sends ripples across the corridor.

“You goddamn son of a bitch.”

“Long time no see.”

Ｃ　Ｒ　Ａ　Ｓ　Ｈ.

And from then on, Miles watches as this figure and his uncle battled amidst the labyrinth. But your words struck him hard, ‘Long time no see’— what did that mean? Did his uncle have a sort of connection to the elites, or has he worked for the upper class before?

With how his punches flew, Miles sensed this sort of undying rage that crackled with the quiver of his Uncle’s fist.

Why did this battle seem so natural? Like the two of them know each other’s moves too well.

“I see you’ve resigned.” You curtly brought up, grunting as he mercilessly charges at you. “And seems like you’ve brought a little something with you.” Upon the mention of Miles, Aaron struck back with a blow, feigning ignorance at your words. Despite your state, you managed to put up a great fight. “Why did you bring him here? He doesn’t seem fit for the job—“

“Stop the small talk, Antonne.”

Antonne.

Anthony Primo-Chávez.

“I’m simply being polite,” You grinned. “It’s been a while, don’t you think so too?”

With that alone, Miles somehow confirmed that the figure was the heir of the hotel in the flesh. The man responsible for the deaths of many— the man responsible for the death of his father. But something felt wrong, like a sense that was gnawing at his guts.

He couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly.

Just of now, Miles realizes that he had no place here, at least, not yet. But he was just as confused as the other guy, why did his uncle bring him here if it was too dangerous?

“Is your sister also a piece of shit like you?”

Sister?

“She’s a little more pacifist than all of us.”

You lie so naturally, it was like second-nature to you— as though it was your second, utterly ridiculous hobby next to scheming. To play the part of Antonne was excruciating enough, but it was enjoyable in a way. You haven’t seen the Prowler for about four years— last seeing him when you were twelve, when he worked for the Fisks until his abrupt resignation. Next thing you and the elite knew, the mercenary who once worked for the high-class was now a vigilante working against them.

No one particularly knew the reason why. You somewhat guessed what it was.

And when the both of you crashed past the danger zone, you knew that the situation was way beyond your grasps from this point on, and the best you could hope for was a perfect gamble.

The man grabs all that he could in his anger, from glass beakers to steel rods, he figures splashing you with whatever thing he could find can help in making you perish from his sights.

You fight back, without the usage of anything else except the blade, only until Aaron repeatedly smashes your head inside a closed-off frozen cage. The two of you fall right in, breaking some sort of container in the process.

“What the fuck?”

Like a flame, it sears your skin— causing you to panic and recklessly pat away at the tar-like substance enveloping you in its sticky embrace. Without even a shriek, it consumes your system entirely, sending you down on your knees.

And the next thing you know, everything else fades into black.

Aaron pulls away, in shock of the dark matter unveiling before him. Immediately, he places a hand over Miles’ eyes, ushering him away.

From afar, they could hear the police sirens coming.

“Let’s— let’s go.” Aaron hurriedly commands.

“Uncle Aaron.”

Miles exhaustively calls out to him.

“Uncle Aaron!”

As his mask unfolds, Miles squints as the sunlight seeping from the tall trees welcomes him, shielding his face with his hands while trudging across the stones to meet his Uncle’s steps. Aaron pauses for a moment, taking only one look back.

“Why’d you bring me there?” Miles directly starts. “I wasn’t strong enough to be there— who was that guy? How- How did you suddenly know about the location of the warehouse, how did— I don’t— I-I have school in three hours, I don’t get why you had to bring me along—“

“That girl you’re seeing,” Aaron intervenes without a waste of breath. “What’s her last name?”

Miles takes a step back, furrowing his brows.

“[L/n].”

Aaron nods. “… It’s the same as the file.”

“What?”

“Bring her to dinner.”

Now everything further confused him, what did you have to do with all of this?

“I-I can’t bring her to dinner yet— what do you mean part of the f— we haven’t even gone on a date yet!”

The date set for tomorrow. The trick-or-treating date Miles had always longed for. Aaron tosses his hand upward. “Just make it quick and let me meet her.” He commands in a rush, pacing his steps faster. “We’ve got to get moving before they find us.”

“But— I don’t get it. What does [Y/n] have to do with all of this?"

Aaron stops for a moment, looking up before heaving a long, jagged sigh.

“… I got a file last night. Sent by an anonymous number. Someone managed to take a picture of you and your girl earlier when you were walking her home.”

Hearing this, a bundle of worries begin to churn in Miles’ mind. This whole night enough was messy for him, and he couldn’t understand why things were getting so complicated. Like what Antonne said earlier, it was ingrained into his mind, Aren’t you supposed to be smart?

“Along with the pictures, I got sent a file. [Y/n] [L/n], is..” Aaron consequently looks into his nephew’s eyes, a sort of hesitation imbued in his system. “Somewhat connected to the Primos.”

Miles halts entirely, and over and over, like how he’s always asked for the last hour. “What?”

“I.. I’ll just tell you when we get home.”

It was many years ago, when your mother endowed this habit of sitting you down by her vanity just to comb your hair and fix you up like a doll.

At that time, you were a tiny little girl with tiny little legs that were unable to reach the floor, instead opting to dangle them with light kicks from your seat— thinking you were some kind of mermaid. During those times, you could only spot at least the whole of your head staring right back at you, but rather than yourself, you marveled at the sight of your mother and her clothes.

The colors she wore were patterned in dates. Mauve, pink, white, and sometimes vermilion in special occasions. Those were the days she used to pick out your clothes for you, and whenever you complained about the color being too bright or dull, your mother would claim that she'd know your colors the best.

As you got older, and when you started dressing for yourself, in the colors you liked, and in the sort of mauve and pink that suited you, you watched as your mother would stare at you from afar with an irate frown, and silently, you'd think to yourself.

Even in the way I rebel against you, you still see yourself in me, because when you look at me, you see only a mirror of your younger self grimacing in disgust. You'd come so far to convince yourself that you're at the height of your being, but your daughter and your child-self only sees mediocrity.

…

“Miss?”

A flurry of people. Lots of talking. You despised that.

“Miss, are you awake?”

“[Y/n], wake up this instant!”

And at your father’s instruction, your eyes peel open almost immediately. You’re greeted with the sight of the ceiling, and your skin covered in warmth. You look at yourself, finding bruises all over your arms, still wearing your white dress shirt and formal pants. Silently, you force yourself to sit up despite the ache you felt, wincing as you spot several faces surrounding you. There was your father, pacing back and forth, certainly distressed about something; Antonne, with his arms crossed, sitting by the edge of your bed; some physician, silently standing by the side with her hands clasped together; and Harry Osborn standing alongside her.

“What’s going on in here?” You haphazardly asked.

“You almost died.” Antonne stirs the silence. “The Warehouse was set on fire, and you were still inside.”

“The warehouse was set on fire!?” You jolt up, only now realizing the dirty looks from your father. “That’s impossible, how could—“

“There were traces of gasoline.” Emerging from the doors, your father approaches you with a sort of chagrin in his glare. “Since you failed to capture or at least slow down the perpetrators, that happened.”

“… You’re placing the blame on me?” You ask, hardly believing your ears.

“We’re not—“ Just as Harry’s about to speak, your father intervenes. “Yes, we are. Because of your incompetence, we lost millions worth of money in damages!”

“Sir, calm down.”

“Father, this is what I’ve been telling you about.” Antonne pinches the bridge of his nose. “She’s sixteen! How could she have possibly fought against a mercenary!?”

“I did better than you.” Poison spewed from your lips, losing all sort of rationality. “This has never happened before. Whenever there was something any of you asked me to do, I did my very best. How could I possibly perform my best when I lacked sleep and I was dependent on coffee!?”

“Your brother is right.”

Hearing that alone was a nightmare.

“Although you’re talented in upkeep and information, you’re too young to fight against an ex-assassin.”

You helplessly scramble off the bed. “Daddy, you’re being unfair.”

Daddy. It’s like you were a ten-year-old fighting for his attention once again. You looked at Antonne, and then your father, shifting in complacency. “I worked for three years, ceaselessly. Even if it meant giving up my weekends and studying so hard that it made my nose bleed. I got the job done, even if no one paid me or thanked me, I still did everything.”

“We’ve lost a lot of resources,” Harry begins. “And we’ve been brought back to square one because of the fire.”

Before Harry could even finish off his explanation, you lift a finger and point at him accusingly. “This is because one of your people decided to leak information—“ In between your rant, Antonne attempts to soothe you. “Had it not been for the fact that you decided to let untrusted people into the faction, we wouldn— stop it, Antonne— we wouldn’t be dealing with this sort of thing. Mother warned you about it, and you brushed off her every warning— STOP IT, ANTONNE!” You finally yelled out. Your brother ceases, lifting his hands off of you after he sees that you’re shaking.

What’s wrong with me?

Why am I being more emotional than usual?

The way the rage consumed you left you in dismay. At a short moment of epiphany, you run your hands across your face and, like a switch, all of your emotions reboot.

“I apologize. I spoke out of line.”

That line alone was chilling.

“I’m sorry, [Y/n].” The tender way Harry called out your name was unfathomable. “I know it’s upsetting that your job is being taken away from you, and you have every right to get upset. However, for your sake and your health, you can pass on these responsibilities to Montrell for now.”

“Montrell’s in London.” You add. “He can’t possibly take over—“

“He’s not in London.” Antonne confesses. You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. “What are you talking about?”

“… It was going to be a surprise but..”

Oh no.

“Oh,” You blankly state, your mind rioting. “I see.”

“It’s an unplanned decision, really,” Your father explains. “Montrell also has no idea that you’ve taken Antonne’s place in taking care of the hotel for the last three years. It’d be better for you, as well, to take a break.”

You wanted to scream, break down, curse at everyone.

“I’m sorry for being too harsh on you, [Y/n].” Harry eases, placing a hand over your shoulder. “However, you have to understand that it’s also for the best.”

“I understand.” Fuck you, and fuck all of you.

“We’ll leave you to rest for now.” Yeah, leave me the fuck alone before I melt the fuck down.

As they step out, all the tension in the room leave along with the squeak of their fine, leather dress shoes. You’re left with the silent physician, whose presence you’d completely forgotten despite the wildness of her dark curls. She shifts uncomfortably, parting her lips to speak, only to find that she didn’t know what to say.

“What is it?” You ask, lowering your voice so as to not intimidate. Prompting to break the silence in her place.

The woman blinks at you, somewhat relieved by your words.

“Can I be direct, Miss?” She sternly asks.

“It’ll be better off that way, frankly.”

She leans a little closer, tugging on the sleeve of your arm. “When you first got here, your body was riddled with cuts, bruises, and broken bones around— oh, can I touch you?”

You squirm. “I’m not a relic.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Most of the rich people I’ve worked with were usually snobby douches who think their skin shed gold.” She subtly laughs, raising the fabric up higher. “Initially, I believed you were exactly that kind of rich kid, but after seeing what happened, you don’t seem like anything they say.”

You raise a brow. “.. Have we met each other before?”

She looked at you as though you’d just insulted her, her eyes about to pop off her thick-rimmed glasses.

“.. I work at Alchemax. I’m the head of the research team in the particle accelerator project— we’ve spoken many, many times before.”

“.. You’re not my physician?”

Her lips tighten into a line. “I take what I said back. You’re exactly like all those other rich kids.”

“W-well, I’m sorry.” You grumbled. “I work with a hundred different people almost every single day, my mind usually shuts down when I’m at work.”

“Well, your father did just drag me out of the line and forced me to fix you up since they didn’t want to risk calling for a doctor who doesn’t know that you’re parading as your brother.” She spoke so quickly, it made you rethink what she just said three times. “Anyways— I needed to tell you that under my observations, you’ve healed yourself in a supernaturally fast rate that it’s groundbreaking.”

“What?”

“Six hours ago, you had broken bones in here,” She points her fingers at your shoulder. “Here,” Followed by your thigh. “And here.” Then your calf. “But after seeing your little drama session with your father, you were able to move yourself without any sort of pain. Initially, I concluded that you must’ve had some very high pain tolerance, but I noticed that so many of your cuts and bruises have all been healed, and that,” Her fingers trace a line over your neck. “That was red as hell just moments ago. Now, it’s gone.”

Oh, the mark you got from Prowler Jr after he choked the hell out of you.

You liked calling him that. Prowler Jr— a smaller, rustier protégée of the Prowler you grew up with.

“.. I wonder why so.”

There was a wily grin on her face that unsettled you tremendously.

“Well, without your father looking, I ran a test on you.”

“You what?”

Without even a single second to lose, the woman takes out few samples from her bag, laying them all out before you with a couple of handwritten documents.

“Here.” She states so proudly.

You marveled at all that she’s written— unfortunately for you, her handwriting was so messily done that you couldn’t understand a single damn thing.

“… You could get sued for this, you know that?”

“Your father wouldn’t. Unlike his children, he can’t find a replacement for me.”

Your mouth hung in disbelief at what you just heard. Rather than acknowledging the insult, however, she plucks out a print of what you assumed were tiny splotches of black tar on a petri dish.

“What the hell is that?”

“I got that swabbed out of your mouth.”

“Oh fuck, I thought I’d dieted enough for the performance!”

“It’s not sweets, sweetheart.” She answered defeatedly, clearly full of your unsure-weaponized-incompetence. “It’s a mysterious symbiote that we’ve recently caught hold of four months ago, and during your fight with the Prowler, it forged itself into your system.” Her fingers trace down your arm, grasping the center of your wrist while grinning. “And it can make you do this.”

As she squeezes your hand, a black matter ejects from your palm. You jolt away, slapping her hand off as you curse.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?”

“The symbiote.” She casually replies. “Isn’t it amazing?”

It retreats like a slimey being, pushing itself back into your skin as though it’d all been a mere hallucination.

“You mean to tell me there’s some alien slime living inside my body!?”

“Well, yes—“

“GET IT OUT OF ME!”

She winces at the loudness of your voice, moving back an inch away. “That’ll take a while for me to dissect. You have to come to my lab tomorrow if you want me to find a way to pull that away from you.”

“I can’t go tomorrow.” You had a date with Miles, and that alone was reasonable enough to miss anything and everything else. “I-I have practice for the fundraiser on Sunday, and I’m still the hostess, so I have to make sure that the preparations are seamless.”

“… I have a comment, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it since you probably hear it all the time.”

“What? That I’m just like my mother?”

She scrunches her nose. “I was going to say that you’re too young to be acting so old.” The woman turns away, beginning to pack up her things again. “You’re sixteen. You should be going out to parties, creating fake IDs, sneaking out to make out with your boyfriend— whatever other shit girls your age like to do.”

You try your hardest not to react at the last mention, since that was definitely what you just did a few hours before. You begin to rub your hands, the friction warming you up as your shoulders shrug.

“Well, as much as I want to do all that, I’ve got too much to do.”

“You won’t be sixteen forever, Miss.” She tosses the bag over her shoulder. “Take that from me. I’m forty-six, and I’ve went through a lot. I’d give everything to be your age again.”

As you watch her head for the door, you call out to her one last time.

“.. Call me [Y/n]. I don’t like it when people way older than me call me ‘miss’.”

She raised her brows. “Alright then, [Y/n].” Your name rolls off her tongue gently.

“How about you? What do I call you?”

With a hand over the knob, the woman beamed.

“.. I’m Olivia Octavius, but you can call me Liv.”

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skyward-floored · 8 months ago

Text

This is an earlier version of my fic Murkier Waters, which I’d saved because I thought Legend’s perspective was interesting, even if it didn’t end up working for the end product. It ends at an odd moment and is kinda messy so pleeeeaaaase read the actual fic for much better writing (and an ending lol).

Anyway, voila. Fishy Legend from a different POV.

————————————————————

“I think we’re lost.”

Legend groaned at Hyrule’s words, watching as the traveler looked around at the trees above them. He stepped into a particularly moist section of dirt while he wasn’t looking, which splashed mud on his boots, and he failed to hold back a sigh.

“I told you we should’ve turned left at that last pond,” Legend grumbled, and Hyrule shrugged with an apologetic smile, a bird cawing loudly in the distance.

Hyrule had sensed a great fairy somewhere in the vicinity, and Legend had tagged along with him, half out of curiosity, and half to make sure his successor didn’t get completely lost. He’d rather failed on that second point though, and they were now miles away from the others in a swamp unfamiliar to them both, getting more lost by the second.

He hated not having a map.

“You don’t think this is the swamp that the Smithy said still had some poison spots in it, do you?” Hyrule asked as he stepped over a puddle, and Legend hummed, looking around.

“How many swamps can there possibly be around here? I haven’t seen anything poisonous-looking though, so maybe Four was wrong,” he replied.

Hyrule nodded, waving a bug away from his face. “Yeah... maybe whatever was left here finally got cleansed or something.”

“Maybe.”

They continued forwards through the muck, swatting away bugs and avoiding one or two birds that swooped past. They had to fight off a couple of keese at one point, but that was the only thing that actively antagonized them, and their walk was fairly uneventful.

Legend wasn’t sure how long they’d been going when the forest opened up, a small lake coming into view through the trees, tall banks on all sides except the one they were standing on. The opposite shore was easily visible, but the water itself shone with an unnatural shimmer, the depths murky and dark.

“Guess we found our poison water,” Hyrule said with a frown, looking across the oily-colored liquid. Legend grabbed a stick and poked it into the water for a minute before pulling it out and inspecting it, but the wood hadn’t corroded at all, and appeared unharmed apart from the slick now coating it.

“Well it doesn’t seem like acid at least,” Legend hummed, giving the water a suspicious look. “I still don’t think we should cross it though.”

Hyrule didn’t appear to have heard him, suddenly perking up as he stared across the shore. His eyes shimmered a little, and Legend raised an eyebrow, leaning over and looking at him.

“Traveler?”

“I think the fairy fountain is over there,” Hyrule replied excitedly, squinting across the lake. “I can feel the magic way more clearly now!”

“Oh. Well that’s great,” Legend drawled. “Except for the fact that there’s a poisonous lake in between it and us, and even if it wasn’t poisonous, you can’t swim.”

Hyrule waved him off, rifling in his bag a moment before pulling out a pair of boots.

“Doesn’t matter, I can walk across water with these, poison or not,” he said with a smile, already slipping off his other pair and putting on the new ones. “It’ll be easy!”

“Well how am I going to get across?” Legend said grumpily, admiring Hyrule’s boots. He could tell they were magic just looking at them, despite their unassuming appearance. Well-made too, magic interwoven as the shoes had been put together, allowing the wearer to walk across water.

...He wanted a pair.

Hyrule looked at him in surprise. “You mean you don’t have any items that’ll help you get across?”

Legend kicked at the mud, mentally going through the list he had of all of his items. Of course he did. He had at least six different ones. Did Hyrule have no faith in him?

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well then come on! Let’s go!” Hyrule said with a smile, and without further ado began walking across the water, faint ripples emanating out from where his feet stepped on the surface.

“I need a pair of boots like that,” Legend grumbled jealously, then pulled out his ice rod to freeze a path he could walk across.

If he was alone, he’d just allow his mermaid transformation to take over and swim across, but he didn’t trust the murky water underneath him one bit. Hyrule didn’t know about his curse yet anyway, and he’d prefer to keep the number of people aware of it as small as possible. Though Hyrule would probably take it in stride, knowing him.

Either way, Legend wanted his feet on something solid, and the ice rod was perfect for that.

He was just glad he’d packed his snowshoe ring.

Hyrule was a small distance ahead of him by the time Legend was ready, and he smirked to himself as he watched the traveler, an idea forming in his head. Legend cracked his knuckles, then suddenly bolted forwards, freezing a path as he ran and quickly catching up to the other boy.

“See you on the other side!” he called behind him, and he heard Hyrule let out an indignant noise, the sound of his boots slapping against the water alerting him to the fact that the traveler was trying to catch up. Legend smirked, and flicked his wrist, slightly curving the ice and making it easier for him to gain speed as he charged across it.

Hyrule was fast though, and soon caught up, then passed him, hair flying in the wind as they raced towards the opposite shore. He didn’t waste his breath on words, merely shooting Legend a cheeky grin as he shot past, and Legend adjusted his cap with a competitive scowl.

He wished he could safely use his Pegasus boots on the ice as he watched Hyrule pull even further ahead, but he’d quickly slip out of control, even with his snowshoe ring.

But Legend was still fast without his boots and managed to put on a burst of speed, quickly pulling up next to the traveler.

Hyrule let out a breathless laugh, and Legend grinned back as they ran, sunlight sparkling off ice and water alike. He and the traveler were neck-and-neck as they raced, and Legend felt his annoyance at the day so far fade with every step he took, keeping pace with Hyrule as they raced across a likely-poisonous lake together.

It’d been too long since he’d goofed off like this.

The shore drew nearer and nearer, Hyrule and Legend both sprinting as fast they could, and Legend was sure that Hyrule was just barely going to beat him —

— Until a scaly green hand shot out of the water, grabbing Hyrule by the ankle and pulling him into the lake.

Legend’s happiness evaporated as Hyrule cried out in surprise, his yell cut off as he was dragged under. Legend jumped forwards and reached out for him mere seconds too late, catching sight of the fear in Hyrule’s eyes before he was lost to his sight in the murk.

“Traveler!” Legend shouted, voice cracking with panic, “Link!”

The water didn’t so much as ripple.

Legend stared for a only a couple more seconds, mind whirling, then he shoved his ice rod into his pack as he bit back a curse.

Hyrule couldn’t swim. Hyrule couldn’t swim and even if he could, some kind of monster had dragged him deep into likely-poisonous water, nullifying the power of his boots and very likely currently trying to eat him.

And Legend could easily save him with the magic in his bones.

Legend hesitated at the thought, looking at the oddly-colored water. He didn’t know what it would do to him if he transformed in its depths, what effects it might have on him if he swam around and breathed it in.

But Hyrule was down there.

Legend looked at the murky water one last time as he drew his sword, then took a deep breath and dove in without further hesitation.

The water slipped around him like a slick of oil, the familiar magic of his tail twisting around his legs as soon as he was submerged. Legend took the few moments while it did its job to look around, squinting as he searched for Hyrule, but saw no sign of him.

Legend’s legs finished painfully merging into a powerful cerulean tail, courtesy of the item he’d picked up all those years ago that had become as much apart of him as his regular magic. He shook out his fins, and finally saw something thrashing nearby. Swimming rapidly towards it, Legend spotted Hyrule struggling with a scaled creature of some kind, his face panicked as he held his breath.

Legend growled and prepared to strike at the monster, but then he took a deep breath.

And it burned.

The water was like fire the moment it filtered through his gills, sending flames searing all throughout his chest.

Legend gasped, but that only made it worse, more of the oily water pulled into his system, the taste of it sickening. He barely felt like he’d taken a breath, and each consecutive one felt worse then the last, stinging needles of ice spreading through his veins as he struggled to breathe.

Ah. Right. Poison water.

Which he was now breathing in, in no small volume.

He coughed, starting to feel sick, but then he heard a hiss and Legend was reminded he wasn’t the only thing in the lake. He managed to swing his sword at the monster despite the ache spreading through his muscles, and it screeched, slipping away with Hyrule still in its grasp.

Legend chased after it, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest and the burning of his lungs, squinting through the murk.

He could barely see anything, surprising since his transformation usually granted him much clearer underwater vision. But despite the gloom and barely-there streams of sunlight filtering through the water, Legend finally caught sight of two glowing eyes, and he couldn’t help but return the hiss the creature sent towards him.

It was hard to fully make out, but he could just barely see green scales and red fins, glowing eyes and grasping claws that were still clinging to Hyrule, the traveler struggling weakly in their clutches as he tried desperately to escape.

A Zora. The corrupted version that lived in his and Hyrule’s lands.

...Obviously a long way from home, considering they were in Four’s era.

Legend swung his sword as the Zora abruptly released Hyrule and charged at him, eyes blazing. A shrill screech gurgled outwards, and Legend pinned his webbed ears back at the noise.

Claws slashed at his face and Legend reeled backwards, but he was satisfied to see a cut on the Zora’s chest. Black blood billowed through the water from both this and his earlier strike, and Legend was careful to avoid it as it spread, the dark cloud as black as ink.

This water was bad enough on its own— infected monster blood was the last thing he needed.

As if to remind him what he was swimming in, a sickening feeling abruptly swept through Legend, and he breathed in a shallow gasp. The taste of the water was all in his mouth, he could feel it and smell it and taste it and it was awful and Legend had to fight back the urge to be sick.

He gritted his teeth as his vision wavered a bit, coughing and fighting past the heaviness sinking into his limbs. Every breath he took he felt worse, every bit of water that rushed through his gills making his head grow thicker and limbs like lead.

If he was doing so badly, he could only imagine the state Hyrule was in, and hoped the traveler had managed to hold his breath so far.

If he hadn’t...

Legend shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on that. He needed to finish this.

Now.

The Zora screeched, and Legend watched as it streaked towards him, green scales blending into the water. Legend twisted away from it as it lunged, swinging his sword around, but claws gouged into his side even as his weapon struck the monster.

His side screamed in pain as his muscles ached, his lungs were on fire, but Legend threw himself forwards anyway, plunging his sword right into the middle of the Zora.

The monster let out an earsplitting keening noise, thrashing to get away from Legend’s sword, but he held tight until its thrashing slowed, then stopped. The beast abruptly fell limp, beginning to sink before it exploded into purplish dust.

Legend didn’t stick around to watch, darting for where he could see Hyrule struggling to reach the surface.

Hyrule saw him approach and his eyes went wide, eyes darting over his tail and scales, webbed hands and gills. He tried to back away, but Legend held out a pleading hand towards him.

“It’s me,” Legend warbled, ignoring how it hurt to talk, and Hyrule stared at him another few moments, gaze softening as recognition lit up in his eyes.

Then he clutched at his throat, bubbles trailing up from his lips.

Legend didn’t hesitate any longer, noting the blood in the water wafting from Hyrule’s ankle. He slung the traveler’s arm over his shoulders, and Hyrule didn’t resist, clinging to his arm rather tightly, and he began to swim for the surface. The Zora had dragged them deep, nearly to the bottom, and it was quite a ways upwards to go.

Legend’s tail seemed unusually heavy as he swam, and he found himself slowing considerably, struggling to focus on his goal.

The sunlight above began to smear, a high-pitched whine ringing in his ears, and Legend desperately pumped his tail, fighting to get him and Hyrule out of the horrible water. But his tail had gone numb, and the ache of his muscles and the fire in his veins and throat and side and everywhere were too much.

He wasn’t going to make it.

Legend gritted his teeth, and put all his remaining energy into giving Hyrule one last desperate shove towards the surface, feeling a spark of hope as Hyrule’s head appeared to breach.

Then he felt himself begin to sink, too weak to keep himself going.

Legend looked through half-lidded eyes at the blood he knew was his, wafting around his tail and shimmering in the weak sunlight. Even the smallest of breaths hurt, lungs and gills aching with fire, and Legend‘s eyes slipped closed, despite how he resisted.

He didn’t want to die like this, or at all, really... but he was content that he’d at least saved Hyrule from a similar fate.

At least he won’t drown... Legend thought as pain and darkness overwhelmed him, and his world disappeared into shadow.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu hyrule #mermaid legend #downfall duo #linked universe fic #fic #writing from the floor #ta dah

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kybercrystals94 · 3 months ago

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Quiet

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 30 - Prompt: Recovery

Rated: G | Words: 527

“Hunter?” Omega stands in the doorway of his room, her familiar shadow silhouetted in the darkness.

He wasn’t asleep. He can’t sleep. All of this feels strange, surreal. Clones don’t have houses with rooms and beds. This was never how it was meant to be, even if it’s been what Hunter’s always wanted. His family, safe and protected. This is their new reality, their new normal.

But his room is so quiet and lonely. It makes him feel pathetic and small to lie awake for that reason, and even worse that he is relieved that Omega disrupted it - because she wouldn’t be here if something wasn’t wrong.

“I’m awake, kid,” he tells her, sitting up on his elbows. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Omega admits, creeping into the room and perching on the edge of his bed.

Hunter hums, sitting up the rest of the way. “That makes two of us.”

Omega releases an exasperated huff. “Haha,” she deadpans.

Hunter chuckles, then moves over and pats the spot next to him. Omega immediately climbs up, tucking herself under his arm. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks her.

“Yeah,” Omega says, fingers nervously twining together. “I feel fine. And I should be fine…it’s just…are houses always so quiet?”

“I think so,” Hunter says, as though he hasn’t been wondering the same thing all night.

“Do you like it?” Omega asks.

Hunter rests his chin on her head. “Not really.”

“Me neither.”

“But we’ll get used to it. It will become normal.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll record Wrecker snoring for you, and you can play it all night long.”

Omega giggles. “I guess Crosshair doesn’t have to worry about it being too quiet.”

“We better not tell him how good we have it.”

Omega shifts against him, turning to look at the empty bed on the other side of the room. “When Echo comes to visit, you won’t be alone. That’ll be nice.”

“That’s true.”

“How often do you think he’ll come?”

“I don’t know.” Hunter looks at the empty bed. “But I don’t think he’d mind if you used it while he’s gone, until we get used to the quiet.”

Omega sits up. “Really?” and she sounds so hopeful that Hunter’s heart aches. She was all alone on Kamino and on Tantiss…he should have known that even safe in their own little home, being alone would be a hard adjustment for her.

For all of them.

Alone had meant being lost and away from each other for so long.

“Go get your blankets and pillow,” Hunter tells her, nudging her off his bed.

Omega hurries out of the room. When she returns a moment later, her arms are laden with her blankets and pillow, Lula and Trooper peeking out of the folds of fabric.

Hunter smiles as she proceeds to make a little nest on Echo’s bed, arranging everything the way she had it in her little gunner’s mount room, Lula and Trooper keeping vigil.

She may have grown and matured in the months she was away, but she’s still their little girl.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @merkitty49 @blackseafoam @illogicaalbraindump @skellymom

#whumptober2024 #no.30 #recovery #Star Wars: the bad batch #fic #emotional whump #soft whump #soft hunter #tbb hunter #tbb omega #post season 3

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grantgustluv · 1 year ago

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his champion - lando norris (social media au)

pairings: lando norris x fem!footballer!reader

author’s notes: just pretend it’s the same person in all the pictures ahahah

read the imagine to this on my page

part 2 out later tonight ahhhhhh just finishing editing it <3333

lando.jpg

liked by yn.jpg, ynln4, lionesses, f1 and 673,484 others

lando.jpg my champion🧡

tagged yn.jpg and ynln4

view all 864 comments

daniel3.jpg can’t wait to post all the sickening photos of you two

-> lando.jpg i’m scared

-> yn.jpg me too

-> daniel3.jpg i’ve had to hide this secret for way too long

user1 mother

user2 lando is so lucky jeez

yn.jpg love you lan🧡

charlesleclerc @daniel3.jpg i’ll join you on that

user3 can lando fight???

-> daniel3.jpg no he can’t

-> lando.jpg RUDE

daniel3.jpg

liked by yn.jpg, landonorris, f1 and 356,821 others

daniel3.jpg still not over the fact that mr norizz pulled a right baller but we move…so here’s some shots of my favourite number 4 and lando

tagged ynln4 and landonorris

view all 642 comments

ynln4 aww danny, you’re my favourite number 3

-> racheldaly3 i’m gonna ignore that thanks

user1 she’s barbie and he’s just ken

charlesleclerc i think i gagged when i saw her celebration

-> ynln4 don’t lie charlie, you said that it was a good idea

-> charlesleclerc i guess it was quite cute

-> ynln4 HA HA

user2 i love y/n and charles’ friendship

landonorris @daniel3.jpg should i be concerned that you take pictures of us whilst we’re not looking?

-> daniel3.jpg no, just make sure to check under the bed before you go to sleep

-> landonorris erm

-> ynln4 new fear unlocked: danny ric hiding under my bed with his camera

landonorris god she’s gorgeous

-> ynln4 i love you🧡

landonorris i’m so lucky

-> ynln4 i’m the lucky one

landonorris and for all of you asking if i can fight, yes i can

-> danielricciardo lie

user3 i love how we all joke about lando being madly in love but y/n is just a much in love with him as he is with her (it makes me sick)

ynln4

liked by england, f1, landonorris, lionesses and 7,124,485 others

ynln4 dream come true🤍🧡

tagged lionesses and england

view all 356,212 comments

landonorris incredibly proud of you baby, i am so in love with you🧡

-> ynln4 i love you so much lan🧡

-> danielricciardo barf

-> landonorris if you don’t like it then leave

user1 the orange heart is theirs and theirs only

lionesses our number 4

lionesses it’s the beginning of change, you and the rest of the girls are inspirations

user2 SHES SO AMAZING

landonorris

liked by f1, tomholland2013, england, masonmount, alessiarusso99 and 9,862,914 others

landonorris forever sounds perfect with you

📸 @daniel3.jpg

tagged ynln4

ynln4 my love

daniel3.jpg pleasure helping you out mate

-> daniel3.jpg look at your socks though hahahah

lionesses @f1 look at our number 4s

-> f1 your biggest supporters @landonorris @ynln4

charlesleclerc congratulations you two❤️

landonorris also thanks to @alessiarusso99 and @ellatoone for helping pick out the ring

alessiarusso99 tags on being the maid of honour

-> ellatoone slow down less, think that’ll be me thank you very much

-> charlesleclerc you’ve both got it wrong, it’s me

comments have been limited on this post

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #football #lionesses #football imagine #imagine #lando norris x female reader #england

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lloydssluts · 7 months ago

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Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge

Welcome to the Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge, hosted by the Lloyd Hansen server.

About 2 years ago, we got our first taste of Lloyd Hansen through Netflix’s trailers. From then on, we were hooked. To celebrate this anniversary, we invite writers to join our challenge and create their own Lloyd Hansen fics!

This challenge is 18+ ONLY. Minors are not allowed to engage in any way, shape, or form. It is open to everyone—not just members of our server, although we encourage you to join us if you haven’t already.

All fics will be about Lloyd Hansen. We do not allow incest (stepcest is permitted), underage, or scat play. Fics should be reader inserts* and as inclusive as possible. Any genre (dark, smut, angst, fluff) is allowed. *For any other specifications or adjustments, reach out to one of the mods or send an ask. This is not a strict requirement.

There is no word count requirement. However, you must use a “read more” break, no matter the length. Use appropriate warnings.

The deadline for the challenge is July 22nd, 2024. This is not a strict deadline at all!

You will choose a dialogue that the character has said in the film and transform it from the original context. Certain prompts are open to changing as long as you note that somewhere. Once you’ve chosen a prompt and sent us an ask with it, it will be crossed off from the list. Prompts are on a first-come, first-serve basis! You can select up to 5 prompts.

Need feedback or advice? Feel free to message either one of the mods (@hansensgirl or @cuttlefjsh), or visit our server to discuss your fic with other members.

TAG YOUR FICS WITH THE TAG #Lloyd Hansen Server WC24

Happy writing!

Asterisks + ‘[…]’ indicates a prompt is open for change.

Should we try again?

Boring.

“Mostly, it’s loss which teaches us about the worth of things.” That’s Arthur Schopenhauer. He was a German philosopher, a pessimist. He saw the value in suffering.

Damn it. Phones on silent when I’m working, please.

Still just flirting. But… [...] getting there. *

Well, no one goes to Harvard to play football.

I like to be the exception. What’s up?

Gimme a name.

Could be fun.

Well, I’m gonna need a full green light on this one. Open checkbook.

I’d rather you punch me in the dick.

We’ll find somebody [...] loves and squeeze. *

Have I ever done you wrong, [...]? *

Professionally maybe. Lloyd Hansen, Hansen Government Services.

Aw, does it? Good.

You know my work. That’ll make this next part a lot easier.

You know what makes me sad, [...]? *

Five and a half.

Who likes cats?

Let’s talk about the mess your [...] made. *

Oh, [...] made a big one. And judging by your shallow breathing and puckered asshole*, I can only assume you know why I’m here.

But see, that’s the beauty of the private sector. I don’t care about reasons.

My guess is you’re helping [...] already. So this shouldn’t put too much of a dent in your day. *

But your file, well, that’s chock-full of nuggets, some of which might make you rethink your fussy attitude.

You gonna answer it?

Hey, sunshine. Lloyd Hansen here. I’m the one running this op.

The one where I get exactly what I want.

Okay, that’s fair. Well, why don’t you come on in, and we can chat? My assistant will get lunch. You like sushi?

Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page.

Looks like you need a new phone.

Don’t say “preternatural” to me. It’s an asshole word.

And that, [...], is exactly what bad ethics and zero impulse control will get you. *

I can kill anybody.

Well, we’ll see.

We need to ground in *Vienna.

How do you feel about your license?

Who’s up for some *Tafelspitz?

Hey, sunshine.

What gave it away?

Ballsy.

Nice try, pumpkin.

What size shoe are you?

Can someone get me a Vicodin, please?

On the run, scared shit less.

You know all those rules you guys are always trying to work your way around? They don’t mean dick to me.

Shut up and go sit in the corner.

Oh. How about that?

Forget about the Vicodin.

That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.

Goldilocks, would you be a lamb and excuse us?

Shhh. Please.

Now, whatever I just did to your *ears, it’s not even torture. I just made it up on the spot. Just came to me. And that’s how this is gonna go.

Should we try again?

Maybe we should get the *girl back in here.

Well, that was unexpected.

Make him dead.

My God, how hard is it to shoot somebody?

What I do can’t be taught.

You know what I love about you?

Yahtzee.

No, success qualifies as success.

You wanna make an omelette, you gotta *kill some people.

You know, in English, we call this a *happy ending. However, if you say one more word, you may not see it that way.

Lock everything down.

Get me eyes on the bridge.

You’re making me destroy a historic building here!

Wait! Please don’t shoot! Look what you did to my hand.

Give me that, you little shit.

Now you pick those feet up, or you’re gonna get dead real quick.

Now, listen. You shut up, and you don’t move.

Now, I’m gonna stop you right there, cupcake.

What do you say we wrap this up?

I mean, I’m having a blast, but it’s way past the kid’s bedtime, don’t you think?

You’re gonna throw me that gun, or the little one gets a new face. *

It’s really a shame this isn’t gonna work out between us.

Now normally, at this point in the night, I wouldn’t be sticking around.

With the house lights about to come on, I’d find a desperate, ugly chick to lick my wounds and split, but you have been a pebble in my shoe since the very beginning.

And now I just don’t think I can walk away.

Guess what I’m thinking right now.

I think I’m better than you.

Still getting used to it.

Let’s see if these moves fuck.

#lloyd hansen server #Lloyd Hansen Server WC24 #writing challenge #lloyd hansen #the gray man #chris evans #x reader #creator challenge #writing prompt

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months ago

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4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - Three Minutes: Sean Archer x Reader

Tagging: @soultrysworld @mysticcandymiracle @kmc1989 @emilyjr @toasted-stiletto

Welcome to Nightvale - You and Sean bond over a book.

The First Time (NSFW) - Sean and you sleep together for the first time.

The Only One (NSFW) - You're the only woman Sean has been with sober.

Dirty Weekend - You and Sean spent the entire weekend in bed together.

Familes - Sean meets your family for the first time.

Emergency Contact - You realise you don't have anyone to put down as an emergency contact.

Dirty (NSFW) - Sean comes home after a day in the community garden and things get a little heated.

Make A Wish - Sean is triggered on his birthday when he sees a familiar face in the paper.

Sunday Morning (NSFW) - You give Sean a very memorable Sunday morning.

It’s Sean that ends up buying the pregnancy test from the bodega down the street. Sean that ends up searching on his phone which ones are the most reliable because there’s seven different types and he has no clue where to start. Sean that opens the box and reads the instructions because you’re too occupied with throwing up, to navigate the complexities of the leaflet.

“You’ve been sick for more than a week.” He tells you as he pushes the test across the kitchen table towards you. “I think it’s time to find out for sure.”

He waits on the opposite side of the bathroom door while you take care of business. Part of him is nervous, the other excited, the two of you haven’t talked about having kids. The truth is it’s never come up because the both of you tend to live in the moment, you fighting fires, him with his sobriety. You’ve never talked about what the future looks like beyond a marriage.

When you step out the bathroom he looks at you expectantly before you set the test down on the counter.

“Three minutes.” You say.

It’s the longest three minutes of his life.

His heart sinks when you pick up the test and read it out loud, he can tell your disappointed too from the way your body seems to sag with the news.

“I guess it is just stomach flu.” You say sadly before tossing the test in the trash and tucking yourself against him on the couch for the rest of the night.

“We should discuss it properly when you’re feeling better.” He says, his lips brushing over your temple but you’re already fast asleep, your head resting gently on his shoulder.

It’s a week later that he’s summoned to the hospital by his father. You’ve passed out during a training exercise on the rig, toppled off the damn thing and hit your head.

“She’s alright.” Dean reassures him when he meets his son in the E.D. “She has a mild concussion so you’ll have to keep an eye on her and the baby for the next few days.”

“The baby?” Sean repeats, unsure he’s heard correctly.

“He’s doing fine.” Dean assures him, his hand coming to rest on Sean’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “They both are.”

“He?” Sean says, his eyes stinging.

It’s then that it dawns on Dean that his son had no idea you were carrying his child.

“We took a pregnancy test last week.” Sean tells him, using the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes. “It was negative…”

“Well they can give false negatives for a number of reasons.” Dean says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Faulty test, antihistamines, urine’s too diluted…”

“Water,” Sean realises as he goes over that time period in his head. “It was the only thing she could keep down when she was sick.”

“That’ll do it.” Dean tells him before he steers his son towards the bay you’re residing in. “Can you at least pretend to be surprised when she tells you? I can’t believe I messed up like that.”

Sean doesn’t get a chance to answer because his dad is already drawing back the curtain and there you are sitting in a hospital bed, clutching a sonogram of his son between your hands.

“Sean.” You say as you hold it up. “We’re having a baby.”

Love Sean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#sean archer #sean archer x reader #chicago med

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siconetribal · 8 months ago

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Put it on My Tab (15)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Terrible drivers, Picking on someone not your size, Jason being cute while trying to look cool, Stupid cupid strikes again

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me. @vbecker10 , thanks for always listening and helping with all my idea rambles! This story sold have been stuck off not for you.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

The evening traffic was not horrible, Jason had anticipated that it would be worse. The only terrible thing was the expensive brightly colored car that had cut him off when he tried to turn into the parking lot. Had it not been for his quick reflexes, he would have been forcefully acquainted with the pavement. He glared at the car as it took up two spots from poor parking.

There’s no shortage of dumbasses here. He purposely parked a few spots away from the crazy driver when a well dressed woman came stomping over. Her mouth was moving and her eyebrows were furrowed, but he could not hear a thing thanks to the music that was currently playing through his helmet speakers. I’m guessing she’s pissed and trying to blame me for her shitty driving. He watched her arms flail about, motioning to the car that nearly hit him and his motorcycle. When she gave it a rough nudge in an attempt to knock it over, he frowned. Standing up at his full height, he looked down at the woman who stumbled a few steps back when she saw just how much bigger he was than her. He scoffed at her attempt to try and paint him as the villain, but the lack of an audience only made her look even more ridiculous.

Huffing and puffing, she turned on her pointy heel and stormed into the cafe. Jason could only shake his head in response to the crazy person, grabbing something from one of his saddlebags. He carefully placed it in his jacket pocket, making his way inside and into the line. Normally he would’ve taken his helmet off by now, but he wanted to surprise a certain barista. What was not planned for was the rude customer causing a scene, the same person who nearly hit him with a care. Seeing as no one wanted to step up, Jason took matters into his own hands.

“Why don’t you call him? Since you say you know him so well, call him. Let him know that you’re harassing his employee for doing her job and following his rules implemented in his establishment.” He cut into the conversation, stepping forward as others made room for him. The look of shock on Y/N’s face when he removed the helmet was plenty of reward for his noble act, but he was selfish and wanted to do more. He wanted to see more of her reactions, but first he needed to get rid of the eyesore.

The woman flinched at first, but when he removed the helmet her attitude completely changed for a third time. He noticed the flushed color on her face from all her shouting was quickly softening as she stood taller and fixed her clothing. It was painfully obvious that she found him attractive now that she saw his face and it took a good level of control to not roll his eyes and curse her out for making a mess wherever she went.

“I know how this might look just walking in, but she has been quite insolent this entire time. I am merely trying to teach her her place.” She was calmer, but her tone was cloyingly sweet. It made him feel suffocated and uncomfortable.

Don’t do it. She’ll tack on to Y/N and that’ll only cause more problems. “Not from what I’ve seen since you walked up here. Did you forget you nearly hit a biker with your car and cursed them out? Hi, that biker was me. Now, get your drink and sit quietly or leave, or you can call the owner and he can check the CC footage to see what happened. You pick,” he kept his tone leveled and firm. Any attempt of her flirting with him was clearly useless and he was not going to even entertain being anything except cold and disinterested. Her face paled and she ran off to the pick-up counter,

“Thanks for the help. I’m sorry you had to step in like that.” The genuine smile of relief she gave him was a direct shot to his heart. It injected warmth into his veins and filled his chest with immeasurable pride. There was also an ache underneath it all, but he pushed all of it aside to focus on the conversation.

“Don’t mention it, I told you, I save damsels in distress. You just happen to be in distress more often than most.” He smirked and winked at her, earning an eye roll in response. “I’ll have to insist you clock out for the rest of the day though. You look exhausted and after all of that, you deserve a free night at the least.” The two other employees were quick to jump in and assist him in trying to get Y/N out. Seeing as they had it under control he simply stepped aside and waited for her to come around after clocking out when his ears perked up at a particular word used to describe him. She’ll correct it, there’s no point in expecting anything else. Though he was smiling, that odd sting from earlier was back. Yup, any moment now. He sighed, waiting…and waiting. Only to hear the door open and close with no argument from Y/N. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged out into the chilly autumn night.

Wait, she didn’t correct them?! Does she not mind it? Well now, I guess I’m just meant to play the role. Her coworkers waved and wished them a good night. Y/N refused to look back while Jason was grinning to himself. The first time he played the role of her boyfriend was way back when she was being harassed by some older guy who slipped something into her drink. Now he was being mistaken for it and it made him chuckle.

“What are you laughing at, oh great capeless crusader?” She scoffed, turning to face him as soon they were outside the doors. “Well, whatever drink you wanted to get is cancelled now. Sorry about that, you can head to some other coffee shop if you want. You don’t have to spend time with me or anything, I’ll just cross the street and play at the gaming lounge.” She pointed to the strip mall which he went to on that fateful day thanks to the IP address.

“And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I just bailed on you like that?” The grin on his face only grew into a smug smirk as she scowled back at him.

“The kind I actually have, nonexistent.” She managed to retort.

“So you’re single.” He mumbled to himself. Good to know. He logged the bit of information away as he looked across the street at the dying strip mall. Slipping his hands into his jacket pockets, he felt the smooth wrapping and paused for a moment. “I came all the way here to give you this.” He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sandwich bag with a zipper lock that held three dark squares in it. It was the brownies she had joked about earlier. “I’ve gotta make up for my lack of texting somehow.” He handed the baggie over to her and watched her carefully hold it in both her hands, wide eyed and smiling. Another direct hit to his heart at the purity and innocence of her happiness.

Y/N carefully cradled the confections in her hand, afraid to smush them even just a little bit. It was a simple gesture that made all the stress and frustration from the day quickly melt away. She really did want a brownie after talking to him about it, but the last thing she would have thought was him bringing her some. “Did you make these?”

“Yeah, I dabble in baking from time to time. I live on my own and living off of fast food has lost its appeal.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They aren’t anything super fancy, I didn’t wanna risk putting in something you can’t have or you just won’t like.” Y/N ducked her head in hopes to hide the blush that was warming her cheeks as she gently placed the treats into her bag. She knew her initial judgment of him was not the kindest due to the coffee fiasco, but he proved himself to be someone more respectable and straightforward.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to though. But if it helps, you did earn some points.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get. So, did you really want to go to the lounge or is there a chance I can sway your decision?”

“Oh, what do you have in mind?” Y/N felt her facial temperature was more regulated at this point so she looked up at his face once more. He’s really too handsome for his own good. The price to pay for seeing it so often is pretty steep though.

“Maybe dinner, my treat? There’s a really great diner not too far from here. I always hit it up when I’m in the area.” She carefully considered his offer, looking over at the lounge. It had been a while since she last logged on and her usual buddy was nowhere to be found. She was hoping to possibly catch him tonight, but she knew there was no promise that he would be online. Biting at her lower lip, she tilted her head side-to-side as she debated on what to do.

There’s a slim chance that Arkham_Knight might be online, but he could just message me and I can check on it later. Hottie Toddie over here actually brought me brownies and helped me with a horrible customer. She took a deep breath and turned her attention fully to Jason. “Sure, let’s go to the diner. But uhm, how are we going to get there? You came here on a motorcycle, right?” I'll log in tomorrow, we usually meet during the week anyway.

“Yeah, we’d just ride my bike. Why?”

“I’ve never been on one. All I know is you sit on it like you do any bike.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze falling to the ground once more.

“I promise I’m a skilled rider, you just need to climb on behind and hold on tight.”

“Hold on tight? To what?”

“To me.” He offered her his hand. Seconds ticked by like minutes as he watched her look between him and his hands. Though he was very cool and confident in what he was saying, he was a mess inside. She could easily reject him and this would be an embarrassing mess. The thought of her declining felt wrong. He wanted her to say yes, he was wishing for her to say yes. The waiting was making him nervous and he was grateful that his gloves hid the cold sweat on his palms. “So, what’ll it be?” There's no reason for me to get nervous.

“Mmm, ok.” He swallowed the sigh of relief that threatened to come out as she placed her hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around and instantly noticed how much larger his hand was compared to hers.

“I’ll keep it slow, I don’t wanna scare you on your first ride. You’ll be wearing the helmet, too. It’s not far, so you don’t need to worry about me.” He rambled a little as he led her to his prized vehicle. “You can keep your bag in one of the side bags here.” He popped one open for her and she quickly deposited her items in it. As soon as she was done, he slipped the helmet over her head. It was a bit loose, but he fastened it as tightly as he could under her chin.

When the world suddenly grew muffled, Y/N nearly panicked. Thankfully the weight of the safety accessory helped her realize she was not fainting from exhaustion.

“Woah, this is a lot heavier than I expected. Are you sure it’s safe for you to not wear one? We could just call a taxi or take the bus?” She offered, fiddling the way it fit on her head. It's this hour a fish feels in a fish bowl? I kinda feel like I'm swimming in it. “It’s moving around a lot.”

“I’ll be fine, just don't move your head too much. Now, just follow my lead. You’ll need to sit real close and hold on to me.” She watched as he effortlessly straddled the bike, her gaze dropping to his muscular thighs that became more prominent now that he was on it.

Quit staring , she scolded herself and looked further down at her own two feet. It's a good thing I’m wearing pants. She nervously inched closer to the vehicle and hesitated before swinging a leg over. She teetered a little from the added weight to her head but managed to keep her balance and sat safely behind him. Her heart jumped into a bit of overdrive when she realized she was unable to touch the pavement when he straightened the bike. Reflexively she wrapped her arms around him and gripped as tight as she could without trying to hurt him. Though that fear was hard to believe now that she was reminded of just how solid he was. Now her heart was racing for an entirely different reason. She only hoped he was unable to feel or hear it.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultist

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readthephible · 5 days ago

Text

Take A Chance On Me (Revised) — Chapter 1 💋🥂

exclusive tumblr preview!! this fic has been on and off consuming my life for like 6 years now? so it means a lot to me. i would love any feedback anyone is willing to give. also, i plan on starting to post this on ao3 once i have a good chunk of the chapters written so i can be ahead, as well as work out some plot things. enjoy! story and tags under the cut!

Chapter One: A Favor

Chapter Notes: THE POSTING OF THE REVISION HAS BEGUN. enjoy, and remember i use he/they for PJ, and in this chapter, they/them for dan <3

Rain poured onto the concrete in a merciless downpour, hitting the glass windows of the coffee shop Phil was currently seated at.

Wet shoes squeaked against the tiles of the room, which Phil could only assume were PJ’s. He didn’t even need to look up to confirm—the person was sliding into the booth across from Phil, pulling his bag off of his shoulders and setting it down beside them.

"There you are,” Phil said.

PJ's voice was wheezy as he blurted out, "Sorry."

His eyes drifted from the trails of rain falling down his friend’s forehead, and instead to the watch on his wrist, tugging his sleeve back to look at it closer.

“It’s fine,” he said, “It’s not like I had to ask Marianne to fill in for a meeting or anything.”

“Shit,” PJ sighed, shaking his head at himself.

“You’re good. I wasn’t looking forward to going anyway, at least now I have a reasonable excuse,” Phil said passively, watching PJ suddenly lighten, bursting into a smile.

"Good, good, now I know I was late, so let's just get to the main thing I want to chat about," PJ said, "I need your help on a job decision."

"Let's hear it," Phil said, and tugged his sleeve back up, watching the waitress come by. They each ordered themselves a coffee and began to talk.

"So, I have been looking into a management position," PJ started to explain, "It will be at a new...hold on."

PJ magically pulled out a map of London from his bag, making Phil crease his eyebrows and tilt his head.

"There are two bars that are being merged together," he pointed out, "This one…”

“You’re wanting a new management position…at a bar.”

“I’m not done yet!” PJ cried defensively, eyes practically begging Phil to continue paying attention.

Trying to make sense of the map, Phil watched as PJ's fingers moved across the smooth paper. The streets twisted and turned mindlessly around, buildings aligning them in all different shapes and sizes.

"And this one. And a new club is going to be right...here," they made a circle with a pen.

"Right next to the station?" Phil asked, "Really?"

"Yeah," PJ replied, "It's a big building, and I guess something happened to whatever was there before. They say it will be much easier to visit, blah blah blah...I honestly think it might just be for tourist attraction."

Phil studied the map, "And the two older ones?"

"Probably being sold to be made into more new apartments no one can afford," PJ sighed, "Anyway, not the point."

A loud whip-like sound made Phil jump as he saw PJ place down another large piece of paper, which appeared to be blueprints.

"So these are the plans for the new club," PJ continued as they spread out the page, “It will be called...The Cat and Bear."

A waitress' red lips were pursed as she placed two mugs of coffee down onto the paper, PJ yelping and picking up coasters to put underneath them. She apologized awkwardly and walked away, but Phil thanked her, picking up his mug and sitting back against the booth.

"The Cat and Bear," Phil repeated, sipping his coffee, “That’ll stand out from every other ancient pub in London.”

"This is the entrance, right?" PJ asked to check if Phil was listening. Their fingers danced across the paper as they emphasized every detail. He uncapped a marker, labeling each part of the building with symbols and letters as they spoke, "Bathrooms are here, in the front, and there's some in the back...and then there's..."

"What is the actual job part, PJ?" Phil asked with a chuckle.

The sweet taste of coffee burned Phil's tongue as PJ looked up with his creativity shining through his captivating eyes, a look not unfamiliar to Phil in the slightest. He kept explaining a whole lot more, then asked, "Are you following?"

"Yeah, yeah," Phil said as he placed his mug down, "But what is the position you are looking for? And that huge empty area you haven't marked yet?"

PJ grew a smile from ear to ear.

"Stage production."

"Stage production," Phil repeated, his tone unsure. "There's going to be a job for stage production. At a bar."

"Not just a bar, a club...well, a burlesque—kind of—club," PJ corrected himself as more papers went flying across the table again, "Hear me out. They need someone to manage the production—backdrops, stage materials, lighting, music, and I'll kind of be like an agent to the performers."

"And who is it that will be performing?" Phil asked.

"Drag queens!" PJ yelled excitedly.

PJ and Phil looked around the diner to see a bunch of people staring at them.

"Drag queens," Phil said, sounding unamused.

"I'd get to manage all of the theater tech geek stuff," PJ explained, "And the queens. So, what do you think?"

Phil deeply sighed and widened his eyes, picking up his mug and taking a long sip.

"Your professional opinion," PJ requested.

Phil cleared his throat and said, "My professional opinion is no."

PJ took the first sip of their coffee, cringing at how the liquid had gotten cold from ignoring it.

"No?"

"No," Phil repeated, then shook his head, “Since it’s new, you can’t do any research on things like their profit history, turnover rates, company policies…the closest would be some Linkedin stalking of any execs or investors you know for sure are involved in this new business. You said they're merging, so there's probably going to be rivalry, and...no offense, but they're drag queens, so…”

Phil clenched his teeth and cringed, finding it hard to be brutally honest to his friend.

"I know it may be risky, but..." PJ reasoned, "I need to be creative, Phil! Feel like I’m in charge of something like you are! This nine to five office job isn't good enough anymore."

Phil rubbed his jaw as he spoke, "I wouldn't recommend it, Peej. How much money will you be making?"

"Not much, from the beginning..." PJ admitted, "But it'll get better, don't you think, Phil?"

"I dunno," he muttered.

PJ pouted, looking off as they said, "I really want to do more creative stuff. Something new and fun. Particularly audio and video...but managing actual performers will be cool too, like in the movies."

"Well, this is London, Peej," Phil chuckled, "Not Hollywood. I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but you asked for my opinion, and I gave it to you."

"How much was this actually related to your career?"

"Not much."

"Okay, then why don't you do more of your career?" PJ asked, Phil looking offended for a second, "Sorry mate, not what I meant. I meant, do more of your thing...can you look into the business and economic part of it? Do some of your PR magic, see how good the people I'll be working with are?"

"Fine. I'll call some people, get some data, and let you know."

—

Both for PJ’s sake and because his company happened to be doing markedly well, Phil invested in The Cat and Bear, which nearly secured PJ for the position with little question of their qualifications. Other executives saw that he had a close connection to another successful company, and thus boosted his chances of being onboarded.

The club was due to be finished in the middle of summer, the project shortened by resources provided by Phil’s company. He’d maintained a more hands-off approach with the venture, trusting that PJ and/or any of his own employees would inform him of any issues. In May, PJ convinced Phil to visit The Cat and Bear to show him around.

From the outside, the club was completely finished, but once they entered, Phil could see where there was still room for improvement—many places lacked paint, flooring, and furniture. The sparse decorations made the interior look like a sad fixer-upper, but at least the bar, stage, dressing room, and bathrooms were built.

"Welcome...to The Cat and Bear," PJ said dramatically, opening the door for Phil to enter. Phil nodded, walking in and looking around as PJ followed behind him and asked, "Why are you all dressed up, mate?"

"I'm technically working," Phil explained, looking down at his clothing. He compared his business casual outfit to PJ's fully casual outfit, a graphic tee and colorful jacket, curious to ask, "Will this be okay?"

"Don't worry about it, you're just going to be the only dressed up one here," PJ told him. Right as he said so, Phil noticed the only people around them were construction workers, painters, and other people busy on their own tasks. They were installing lights, painting walls silver, pulling up old flooring—so much was going on at once.

PJ gave Phil a lengthy tour of the place, getting especially enthusiastic when showing him how the stage lights and curtains worked. He let him backstage to see the dressing room and where his office was, with cardboard boxes already on the desk.

"Sophie is supposed to come help me decorate soon," PJ told him, "This office, I mean, I'm not sure about the dressing room, but probably. She’s around here somewhere.”

"Have you met any of the queens yet?" Phil asked curiously.

PJ sighed awkwardly, "Uh, no, actually."

"Peej, you guys open super soon!"

"I know, but I kinda just picked the queens that were already planning on transferring here. Some of them moved closer to different clubs, on the other side of the city, or back home, I guess. It’s not the time to be picky, according to some other talent managers I’ve talked to," PJ said, "I've made a Facebook group and talked to a few, and that's about it."

Phil sat down on a chair in front of PJ's desk as they continued to talk, allowing him to ramble about his excitement for this new job and all of the ideas they had planned, until they heard a knock at the office door.

"Come in," PJ called out.

"Mr. Liguori?" the person called out in a silly tone—definitely Sophie. She peeked her head in the room, a pencil resting on her ear. “Oh, hi, Phil.”

“Hey, Sophie,” Phil greeted, then gestured toward PJ, “The ‘Mr. Liguori’ is here.”

PJ just laughed, “What’s up?”

"Um, the queens are here?" Sophie said matter-of-factly.

"Shit!” PJ seethed, looking at his watch, “It’s time already?!”

What a great manager PJ already was.

"That's no problem though, I'll go—um—come on, Phil," PJ said, “Looks like you won’t be the only dressed up one, then!”

Phil followed behind him into the open area right in front of the hallway. There stood a group of performers, and as they gossipped and chatted, Phil looked over the small crowd.

One of them specifically caught his eye. She—or Phil should probably correct himself to say they, because he truly didn’t know—were wearing a pretty, brunette wig, hair cascading down their shoulders.

From only a few moments of staring, Phil picked up on a warm, inviting energy they had. When they laughed with their friends, an adorable, deep dimple paired well with a bright smile, lighting up the room so effortlessly.

Phil hated that he was so far away from them.

PJ then clapped his hands together, looking around the room. It temporarily swayed his attention, but the underlying magnetic pull towards the brunette was hard to distract himself from.

One of PJ’s new employees, Phil reminded himself, so stop ogling at…the most beautiful one of the whole group? Yes, Phil confirmed with a darting of his eyes across the crowd, they definitely were.

"You all look absolutely stunning," PJ said, earning a bunch of claps, thank yous, and a couple shouts of "I know" that made him chuckle.

Phil had been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed Sophie and some other employees following behind them. He stepped off to the side to give PJ the floor, but more so to make it less obvious he was stealing glances at the brunette any chance he got.

"Hello, everyone. Forgive me, I lost track of time. I figured I should introduce myself. I'm PJ, the manager of stage production and talent. Most likely, I was the one you’ve been in contact with about working here. And this is Phil.”

Phil awkwardly waved. Some of the performers seemed to give genuine waves, while others gave more silly or sassy ones. The brunette had a bit of a smirk on their face, waving elegantly.

“His company has been our biggest supporter in the process of getting this club open. He is our biggest investor, so let’s make sure that we return the favor and work hard to give our thanks for all the resources he’s provided,” PJ said, and the performers clapped and waved at him.

“We'll still go ahead and take promotion photos for the website today, and I'll be creating us an Instagram page as well," PJ said, "Later on, I’d like to have a professional headshot session with everyone as well, so stay tuned for that, but this is mainly just to get media coverage for our opening weekend.”

The performers all nodded, continuing to give almost all of their attention to PJ. Phil’s attention, however, was fixed back on the brunette, who had joined in on the casual glances. They were wearing a mesh dress with long sleeves and an abstract pattern. Their friends were trying to whisper to them, but they continuously shrugged them off.

As he looked around at the group again, Phil realized that he was a bit envious of the confidence they exuded. After the effort of a drastic change, it was at a level he didn’t think he’d ever personally reached before.

It was reassuring that it was a safe space for everyone to feel like they could be as unique, queer, or weird as their heart desired, their appearances showcasing the most genuine aspects of themselves. But Phil felt out of place, intimidated by their larger-than-life personas.

Phil wasn't confident. Not really. He was clumsy and awkward, and he’d probably injure himself or someone else if he ever tried to walk in heels. Maybe he'd like makeup, but he had no idea where to start or how to steady his shaky hands. The queens did it all with such precision. His application would be messy and uncoordinated, it wouldn't look nice on him the way it did on them.

And it looked really nice on one in particular. Phil hoped his staring wasn’t obvious, but almost couldn’t help himself.

“Believe it or not, there are some places on the lot with good lighting for photos, and we brought some equipment, too. Sophie and I will be the photographers, while others can look out for minor tweaks. Alright, let’s get started!”

PJ took their camera from Sophie and arranged everyone in different places around the club, specifically the few completed areas. To Phil’s surprise, a few of the performers went up to shake his hand and thank him. Phil was able to reciprocate the greeting, but found himself in a daze. The performer he was interested in was one of the first to be photographed, which prevented him from greeting them. He could stare at them modeling all day, but to keep his composure, he tried to simply exist in the same room.

Phil awkwardly stood off to the side again, finding it easy for his mind to wander.

It seemed like PJ would be occupied for a while, and realistically, he didn’t have any reason to hang around. But if he could find a reason…

“Hey, Peej?” Phil asked, walking up to him as he was nicely directing an employee to move something out of the way. “Do you need me to help out with anything?”

“Oh, did you have anything at work you needed to attend to?”

“Not currently, no.”

“If you could get Soph and I coffees?” PJ said more quietly, mindlessly adjusting camera settings.

Of course it had to be something that required him to leave.

Awkwardly, Phil answered with, “Oh. Okay. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Other than that, I think we’re good. Thanks for coming by.”

He glanced at the one performer one more time before leaving to get their coffees.

#phan #dan and phil #phanfics #phanfiction #phandom #daniel howell #phil lester #tacom #drag fic #danisnotonfire #amazingphil #rpf #youtube rpf #my writing #my fics #ao3 #q #phandometrics #p

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year ago

Text

@steddiemas Day 31: New Year's Eve Traditions & Activities

We made it to the end!!! Tell me that picture doesn't look like Steve and Eddie's arms!!!

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Season 4, Canon Divergent, Everybody Lives (obviously), New Year's Eve, New Year's Eve Kiss, New Year's Eve Fluff, Humor

wc: 1480 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Let me get this straight,” Steve says, resting his forearms on the candy counter of Family Video. After a quick glance around to make sure the store is still empty (it is and has been since their shift started four hours ago), Steve continues. “You won’t be my New Year’s kiss because you have to scarf down 12 grapes in 12 seconds.”

“That’s correct.”

“That makes no sense!”

“Maybe if you stopped whining and actually listened to why, you’d understand” Robin chimes in.

Steve looks up and scowls before flicking her knee that’s dangling off the candy counter. She shouldn’t even be up there in the first place — especially not with her damn shoes on. It’s going to take an extra ten minutes to clean the damn thing now that she’s scuffed it up.

“Fine,” he sighs, turning his attention back to Eddie. “Why do you have to scarf down 12 grapes instead of kissing me, your boyfriend?”

Robin snorts, nearly choking on a piece of licorice. Serves her right, Steve thinks as he wordlessly passes her a cup of water.

“I’m so happy you asked,” Eddie beams as he leans against the counter like Steve. Their forearms brush as Eddie situates himself, elbows pressing into the glass as he nestles his chin in the palm of his hands. “See an old wise tale in my culture says that eating 12 grapes at the 12 strokes of midnight brings good luck in the new year.”

“Do you even believe in luck?”

Eddie hums in consideration, “Not really, no. But I’m not going to tempt fate. Especially when I have too much to lose in the new year if I fuck it up.”

Before Steve has time to ask a follow-up question, his lips are on Eddie’s. Warm and slightly chapped. Tasting like tobacco and an overwhelming serving of cherry thanks to the stupid licorice he’s been devouring with Robin. He barely has time to close his eyes and lean into the kiss before Eddie pulls away with a simper and a cute flush spreading across his cheeks that he tries to hide with a lock of his hair.

“What if I said not kissing me at midnight is bad luck?” Steve tries.

“Well, then I guess I could try to do both.”

“Absolutely not,” Robin says, butting back into the conversation. “I am not calling the paramedics one second into the new year because you two decided to be major dinguses. Just let Eddie eat his grapes and kiss him after.”

“But it’s not the same,” Steve bemoans. He lets his body go slack, chest, and head thunking against the counter with a gentle force that should keep him from bruising. Looking up through his eyelashes, he gives Eddie his best attempt at making his eyes wide and innocent in a way that’ll make him break. “I haven’t had a midnight kiss in years. I just thought this year was going to be different.”

“Join the club,” Robin says, knocking her knee against his outstretched forearm.

“Oh no, trouble in romance land, Birdie?” Eddie asks, completely ignoring Steve’s terrible attempt at guilt-tripping him.

Robin sighs, tipping her head back until it thunks against the wall. The neon Family Video sign shakes under the vibration but thankfully doesn’t fall. That’s a mess Steve doesn’t want to have to clean up.

“I thought when Vickie broke up with her douchebag boyfriend things would fall into place but nothing has happened. There’s only so many hints I can drop before I accept the fact that she’s not into me.”

“But she is into you,” Steve says. If there’s one way to get him out of his own pity party, it's dragging Robin out of her own.

“Yeah well, my last four dateless weekends say otherwise.”

“Maybe you should eat the grapes too,” Eddie says. “Freak says if you eat them under a table it’ll bring good luck in your love life.”

Steve can’t help but snort. “How’s that working out for him?”

“Well, he has a girlfriend up in Maine where his grandparents live so you tell me,” Eddie challenges.

“At this point, I’ll try anything. I can’t go another year without kissing a girl,” Robin whines. “Any other good luck charms I should know about?”

“Argyle said his family wears different color underwear for different types of luck. Red for love, obviously.”

“Red underwear and grapes. Got it.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “I guess we’re making a stop at Bradley’s before we head home. Does it matter if they’re red or green grapes?”

“Nope. A grape is a grape. The important thing is eating them fast.”

“Right,” Steve nods as if he understands even though he’s still incredibly skeptical about this whole charade. Kissing Eddie sounds so much better than nearly choking on grapes, but whatever. If it makes Eddie happy, well, he’ll compromise. “Might be good to have the phone nearby then. Just in case we forget how to chew.”

“Wait we? Are you eating grapes too?” Eddie asks, already bouncing on his feet in anticipation.

Okay, yeah, eating a few grapes is worth the look on his face right now.

“Can’t let you and Robin take all the good luck,” he shrugs.

Eddie grins before launching himself at the counter. He practically vaults over the damn thing but his belt gets caught and he goes stumbling into Steve’s arms instead. It’s not the first time they’ve fallen together like this, and it definitely won’t be the last given his clumsiness, but Steve doesn’t mind. Especially not when Eddie pushes himself up and sears a kiss on his waiting lips.

“Promise I’ll make the first kiss of the new year worth the wait.”

🍇 🎆 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

As the kids start counting down from 30, Steve scrambles to pass out the giant green grapes he and Robin picked up the day before. The kids are uninterested in the tradition, but Eddie ropes Jonathan and Nancy into his antics. Argyle didn’t need convincing, already eager to cross off as many New Year’s superstitions as he could — which is why he ran around the block with an empty suitcase half an hour ago.

Robin b-lines for the dining room table the minute she has 12 grapes in her palm and it’s only a matter of seconds before Eddie’s tugging Steve after her.

“Eds,” he shouts, nearly spilling his grapes in the process. “What are you doing?”

“Getting us under the table!”

“I thought that’s for good luck in love.”

“It is,” Eddie says, ducking as he squishes in next to Robin.

“But you already have me.”

“Wow, Steve. Someone’s full of themselves,” Robin teases.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I just want to make sure the universe gives me enough luck to keep you,” Eddie says, bashfully, before giving Steve’s wrist another yank. “Now get under here before you ruin the magic!”

Steve wants to tell Eddie that he doesn’t need some silly superstition to keep him. He’s not going anywhere, not if he can help it. But the kids are really shouting now, already down to five seconds and Steve can see the slight panic in Eddie’s brown eyes so he scrambles under the table instead.

“3! 2! 1! Happy—“

“Eat, eat, eat!” Eddie shouts, drowning out the cheers of the kids in the living room.

Steve shoves the first grape into his mouth and gets to chewing, watching as Eddie shoves at least three and Robin tries her best to work through her own pile of grapes as fast and carefully as she can. It’s a chaotic flurry, especially when one of Eddie’s grapes falls and goes rolling, but Steve saves it without getting out from the table and pops it in Eddie’s mouth for him. He wants to say “for extra good luck” but he’s too busy trying not to choke on his own mouthful of grapes.

Christ, why did they have to be so big and crunchy?

In the end, all three of them manage to successfully eat their grapes before 12:01 hits. To celebrate, Eddie drags Steve back out from under the table. Back on their feet, Eddie dramatically dips him in his arms before giving him the cheesiest kiss they’ve ever shared — loud “mwah” included.

“That’s the big kiss you promised me?” Steve asks, laughing as Eddie pulls him back into a standing position.

“Well, I had other plans but there’s too many witnesses for how I really want to kiss you,” Eddie teases, before leaning in closer. “I’ll show you later.”

Steve smiles as he gets his hands around Eddie. This time he’s the one who pulls him close, bodies flush as he stares into those beautiful brown eyes he hardly even looked at a year ago. “I think this is going to be a good year.”

“’87, baby.”

#steddiemas #stwgdailyprompt #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #steve fic #eddie munson #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #robin buckley #robin buckley fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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olderthannetfic · 13 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/769202203199225856/i-know-this-subject-is-tired-but-i-have-a?source=share

Hi! I’m the anon who sent this ask. I wasn’t going to respond originally (I found out my cat probably has cancer the same day this was posted, and it slipped my mind for a while). I also figured OTNF was sick enough of the debate that my response would probably be deleted, haha. (Sorry, OTNF.) But I’ve seen people putting words in my mouth on a recent post so I wanted to clarify:

For everyone asking how having two versions of the same fic up could be “spammy”: I guess, for me, when I’m thinking of the story I want to tell as a whole, it’s because there’s no difference between drafts for me. That’s the same story. The plot itself is not being changed. It being edited slightly differently or having a couple extra scenes doesn’t change that it’s the same story. (It’s like getting vanilla ice cream vs vanilla ice cream with vanilla seeds in it—it’s same damn thing, just slightly visually different.) And, personally, I struggle to justify fixing grammar/wording and adding a couple scenes to better clarify things as being worth posting as an entirely new fic. It feels like I, as a writer, am lying to my readers about posting something new when the story is 95% the same as the previous, completed version. And I realise a lot of readers probably wouldn’t feel cheated or lied to. It’s just something that I can’t really get over. Maybe that’ll change with time.

For the people saying that I meant that posting hundreds of short fics in a tag instead of in an anthology would clog the tags: no?? I don’t know how you came to that conclusion? This has nothing to do with that. The fic that inspired the previous ask was a, very old, novel-length one I'd rewritten a few years ago; short fics hadn't crossed my mind at all.

Anyway. OTNF, I hope you and YoungerThanNetFic are doing well and have had a good start to your year!

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fordohyon · 1 year ago

Note

Hii!! I saw you wanted a xikers imagine soo how about xikers reaction when you makeup and wearing a pretty dress in front of them for the first time, but the security have a crush on you? Do it in your style 🥹🥹💕💕

ok, so im a little stupid so im guessing like security guard so let me know if this was what u had in mind, i hope u enjoy tho 😋🫡 please tell me if there are any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes so i can fix them

maknae line will be posted later on, i’ll tag you when i do 🤞

THE SECURITY HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?

PAIRING - hyungline!xikers (individual) x fem!reader

WARNING(S) - not sure, pls lmk if there are any

WORDCOUNT - 1.7k (scenarios average 200-300 words)

a/n: jinsiks and hyunwoos are so long?? I was planning for all of them to be around 200-300 though jinsik and hyunwoos is about 400,,

민재

Minjae

It's only been 3 months since you started dating and most of your dates were inside your apartment or his, he hasn’t seen you with makeup or any sort of fancy clothing. As a way to celebrate your 3rd monthary, you opted to go on a fancy date, of course, you had to get all dolled up for this moment. "Babe?!" You heard Minjae shout. "I'm in my room!" A sigh of relief could practically be heard by your neighbors. "We have to be there by four thir... Woah... You look amazing!" he exclaimed, cheeks and ears tinted with a soft cherry color. "I... I mean, as always! I, uh, you know! I just... you're gorgeous." the boy continued, though a stuttering mess. "Don't worry. I get what you mean, you look striking yourself! Shall we go now?" You said while applying your lipstick on.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as he placed a gentle hand on the small of your back. You both stepped out into the lobby and made your way towards the exit, Minjae seeing the relatively new guard who’s been eyeing you since he started his job at your apartment block “Hi ma’am, would you mind grabbing a drink with me when you’re free? undoubtedly ignoring your boyfriend who’s right beside you. “Aaah… Sir, I have a boyfriend-” you informed the guard, “Which is I, I’m her boyfriend.” Minjae interrupted, clearly jealous, well not that he’s insecure. “Oh, well.. uh, enjoy your date.” The guard awkwardly laughed out. “Thank you-” “We will.” the jealous boy spurts out.

“You’re jealous?” you questioned. Finding him cute. “Well, I can’t say I'm not,” he spoke out before kissing your lips, smudging your lipstick in the process before burying his head into your neck. “What a baby, I love you, and only you.” and of course, you go on about your day and continue the date.

준민

Junmin

You had finally gotten the opportunity to go all out with your makeup and outfit considering you’re going to be spending the whole day with him. Your phone rings as you open your drawers filled with makeup, catching a glimpse of the caller, noticing that it's your boyfriend you press the call button. “Hi, darling, I'll be there in 5?” he says, unsure if you’d be okay with him going earlier than you expected. “Alright, hurry up… I wanna see my glorious boyfriend!” you utter whilst you pick up your phone to open your camera, “Oh- Wow! You look stunning… I’ll be there as soon as possible! Bye!!” he exclaims before hanging up the call. Gathering all of your makeup that’ll probably smear and placing it in your empty pouch. The doorbell buzz spirals to your room. Walking towards the door and grabbing your bag just as you open the door.

“Hi, You’re enchanting.” he compliments you once again, “Thank you… Shall we go?” you smile, asking him, and soon after you receive the response “Certainly”,

A few hours after you‘ve left and eaten. Both you and your boyfriend have decided to go shopping for new clothes, with Junmin of course. Although he’s just following wherever you go, Junmin can’t ignore the stares that the security that you’ve been passing by plenty of times. Who eventually came up and gave you a paper with a number on it, presumably the security guards’. “Darling, throw it… please?” unpretentiously, you’re gonna throw it away, you already have a lovely and amazing boyfriend, though it is fun to tease him from time to time. “Hm… I’ll think about it.” you taunt him, seeing his brows furrow and his lips forming a pout. You take this as a chance to kiss his lips, seeing his ears getting red and his eyes going blank makes you smile from ear to ear. “You’re cute. So cute. I love you and of course, I’ll throw it.”

수민

SUMIN

Both you and Sumin love picking out each other's outfits when you go out, however, today it's different. The two of you have agreed on not showing each others' looks before meeting up, you haven't necessarily worn much makeup with him, and this was a chance to surprise him with a look he hasn't seen you in before. Just as you zip your pants up you hear someone knock at your door, trudging towards the door, albeit checking the peephole first, noticing the blond hair you figure that, that's your boyfriend. Opening the door the first thing you see is his gorgeous smile makes you melt, you hear him clear his throat before saying "My princess.. you're breathtaking. Should we go?"

"The Art Museum, right?" You question, receiving a hum from the blond.

Before entering the museum Sumin had caught the guard staring at you, he didn't think of it as anything, or at least before the guard came up to you and asked if you were single. Receiving the most obvious answer, which is no. Sumin who was staring at the security with slightly creased brows, pulling Sumin away, his eyebrows now slightly relaxed, “What was that?!” He questioned, voice laced with disarray. “Not sure either, my prince,” You let out as you raise your brows.

You and Sumin go on about your day hopefully, with no more interruptions, you both have long forgotten the scenario that happened a few hours ago.

진식

JINSIK

Jinsik didn’t know how important this event was till you went to his apartment wearing elegant clothing and makeup, his messy morning hair and pajamas looking extra cute “You’re beautiful, though if you don’t mind me asking, where you’re going?” He asks, “Do you mind going with me? I have to be there by 9 am,” Your eyes dilate as you check your watch. “Should I uh… Just wear a suit?” He stutters, after receiving a nod from you he checks his clock and instantly runs to his bathroom. Waltzing over to his couch and taking your pocket mirror out to check if your makeup is smudged.

It’s been about 10 minutes and your boyfriend Is still sprinting around the place, brushing his hair as he walks up to you “Can you help me with my hair, please?” Jinsik looks at you, trying to see what your answer would be on your face. “Yes dear, I will. Though you have to hurry.” His face lights up, giving you the widest smile after.

You’re now driving to the event parking. You tell them your name and take your ticket. Your car circles around the parking lot checking to see any available parking spaces that are closer to the entrance with Jinsik helping you. “Dearest, there’s one over there!” He exclaimed as he pointed his finger towards the spot he was talking about. “Shall we go inside? I have to introduce you to my coworkers! They’ve been wondering who my plus one is!” You ramble excitedly, “Yes we shall.” He kisses your nose and gets out of the car, opening your door for you.

You’re now in the venue with your boyfriend. You introduce him to some of your close co-workers. All telling you how you have a handsome boyfriend who’s fit for your beautiful self, how you’re the perfect pair, and joking around saying they feel so single around the both of you. You approach the security guard you’re acquainted with while your boyfriend gets some sweets. “Hey… I didn’t know you’d be here!” He gasped, he didn’t know about your boyfriend which led him to ask, “Are you free anytime soon? Let’s go out, just the two of us.” Fortunately for you, your boyfriend heard. “Ah- Sir, she’s unfortunately taken, by me,” Jinsik said as he found himself having a burst of confidence but later cringing at himself. “Bye, Sir!” You murmured as your boyfriend pulled you towards your seats. “I love you, dear,” You enunciate as you kiss his lips, feeling him smile into the kiss. “I love you too, dearest,”

정훈

HYUNWOO

You had dressed up and put makeup on today due to your Christmas party. You show up at his place all dressed up, “You’re astonishing” He says, ears red as this was his first time seeing you dolled up. “Hi baby,” you mutter as you kiss him softly.

“Let’s stay here for a while, if you don’t mind, it's a bit too early to go there right now,” you suggest, of course, Hyunwoo doesn’t mind. “Honey, you’re so lovely,” He lets out as he kisses you, he just can't keep himself together when you’re all pretty like this. Not that you’re only pretty today but considering that this is his first time seeing you like this he just can’t help staring at you.

You’ve been watching for at least an hour and you’ve determined it’s time to go, “Baby, we should go now.” you whisper, weakly after sitting the whole hour. Holding your phone up and checking the camera if your makeup has smirched. “Right, let me get my keys first.” Your boyfriend says, kissing you once again. He leads you to his car opens the door for you and gets into his seat afterward.

He has already memorized the shortcuts to your building making it quicker to get there. Unlocking the door and kissing you before you go has been a thing Hyunwoo always does. Usually, he’d go back to his place and wait till you text him to pick you up but today he decided to stay at the mall nearby and wait for you. He had called you a few minutes after finding a place to stay in the mall, informing you that he was staying in the mall near your office.

At least an hour and a half has passed and you’ve finally texted him saying you’ll meet him at the front of the mall, instantly going to the front of the mall. He immediately finds you and he moves toward you. “Baby… Can you answer this number for me and tell them I have a boyfriend?” You huffed out, obviously annoyed. “Ah- Alright…” You give him your phone as the number keeps on ringing.

“Hello? Who’s this?” Hyunwoo questions. “Y/n, how come you forgot already? This is the security guard, you know, the one you always talk to…? I got your number to tell you I want to go on a date with you, though I’ve already told you this a while ago” “Well I’m sorry to say this but this isn’t Y/n, quite obvious already from my voice. I don’t sound anything like her, and she’s not single,” He asserts, voice tinted with jealousy. That’s all it took for the number to hang up. “Block the number, please” Hyunwoo pleas, “Well I wasn’t planning on keeping his number anyways”

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