#the only thing that was stolen was my brother’s bike

[mooseonahunt]

We got robbed !

[probablyintensemuses]

Hey, Brother

Armando Aretas

🎧- Story of My Life: One Direction

summary: Armando’s your older brother, here’s how you meet, past and present.

themes: extreme angst and fluff. A bit of violence. But mostly found family and sibling love.

authors note: completely convinced he’d be an amazing older brother. There is a 8 year age gap between reader (20) and Armando (28). Also shout out to my older brother…I wuv you 💞😭 Also yes I know i switched a few things around. Just enjoy it. If you want a part two, lemme know!

Read Part two here

Four Years Ago

Miami Florida University

The night on campus was quiet, the only things to be heard were the comforting trill of crickets and the soft waves of the ocean, only three miles out from the college.

Armando sat idle on his motorcycle, twelve beats away from where he’d been told you, their next victim, worked.

This entire time he’d been killing people in the name of the Aretas family, he couldn’t understand why Mike Lowery, some beat cop came last. And why his mother was resorting to taking his daughter as bait.

What made Mike so important that he deserved a fight for his life, for your life?

“Mamá, no entiendo, ¿por qué ella?” Armando says through his phone.

Isabel sighs on the other end. “Con el tiempo, hijo mío.”

“She’s just a kid.” Armando sighs, pulling out his ipad and looking at your photos again.

From what he gathered, your were a first year nursing student here at MFU, you got great grades, danced for a kpop club, and worked part time at the cafe he was currently parked out side of.

But most importantly, you were Mike Lowery’s daughter.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t matter.

But for some reason, to his mother, it did.

“She's a pawn,’ Isabel hisses. “Mike necesita conocer el dolor de la pérdida; this will show him.”

Armando nods, taking a deep breath, feeling the same incorrigible anger rising up in his pit again at the sound of Mikes name.

This man had stolen everything from him: his family, his dynasty…his father.

Though his didn’t understand his mother’s methods, he’d never question her madness.

This man took everything from them, it’s time he learned that same pain, and as much as he didn’t enjoy hurting innocent… you were the key to getting even.

“Lo haré mamá.” Armando said, watching you finally exit the cafe.

“Muy bien.” Isabel said, hanging up.

Armando pushed off on his bike, riding a bit down the narrow street before hanging a right and turning back around.

Out of his pocket, he pulled out a needle. Whatever was in there was strong enough to knock out a bear, so it should have no problems sending you, a small college freshman, into a deep sleep.

Swiftly, he drives forward, accelerating until he just passes you before he makes an abrupt stop, cutting your path off.

You fall back and onto your ass.

You help as you hit the pavement, lifting your small hands to access the damage that had been caused by you cradling your fall.

You hiss at your bleeding palms before looking up at Armando in sheer disgust.

The heat of your gaze causes Armando to flip up the visor on his helmet, something in your eyes giving him pause.

He wasn’t a vain person in the slightest, but something about your eyes, when he looked in the mirror, they were so similar to his own that it nearly startled him. They were the same shade of chocolate brown covered by thick, dark lashes.

His observation of you quickly dries as your curse at him. “What the hell, dude! You could have killed me!”

Armando doesn’t say anything, instead he offers you a hand.

Reluctantly, you take it.

Just as your nearly up, Armando pricks you with the needle.

Your face drops as you snatch your hand away from him.

You look down at your palm, a single trail of blood dribbling down your wrist from the spot he pricked you at.

“What the fuck,’ you wobble, turning to run down an ally.

Armando watches as you attempt to flee, he knew it wouldn’t be long before you passed out.

And as he predicted, ten steps in and you were slumped against the moist ally ground.

He picks you up, slinging you across his shoulders, carrying you towards his bike and driving off into the night.

Later…

When you awoke, you found yourself bound to a chair in a large, abandoned house. You wiggle against the binds, only scathing your wrist even more.

You scream out, panic rising in your chest as your breaths shorten.

"Help!" You scream. "Someone help me!"

"Help is on the way, princessa.' A slick voice says.

You turn and see a beautiful woman taking slow, slutry steps down the staircase towards you.

"Who the hell are you?" You croak, scooting away from her the best you can in this damn chair.

The woman, grips your chair with one hand, while running another through your curls. "Your fathers la venganza.” She hissed.

“Don’t touch me,’ you bite. “And my father did nothing wrong, you’re lying.”

Isabel grips your chin, hard. You try and wiggle free but it’s no use as she pulls you close.

She turns your head from side to side, the warm evening sun causing a glint in your eyes.

“Always the eyes,’ she mumbles. “He gives all of his children his eyes.”

“What?” You question, breathlessly.

Isabel forcefully lets you go, leaving a sore spot on your chin.

Your mind reels around her words and the weight of them.

She was your father’s revenge, why? And had she been the one to shoot him all those months ago?

And all of his children. Your father only had one child, you.

Looking around the wear house and seeing all the sage and candles burnt, the circles and alters, you could tell that whoever this woman was, she was crazy and you wanted no parts.

The thought was enough to make a few screams come out of you.

You stamp your foot against the ground, “Let me go! Let me the fuck go!”

Isabel rolls her eyes at you, mumbling something in Spanish before she shouts, “Armando, ven a llevarla antes de que la mate yo mismo.”

Quickly, the man for the other night emerges.

“No,’ you scoot back in your chair as far as you could. “No.”

The man, Armando, grabs you out of your chair and drags you up the staircase.

At the top of the staircase, he slices your binds loose but still has a good hold on you.

Now, you by no means are a good fighter, but with your dad being police, you know a few things.

So as Armando unlocks a door, presumably to put you in, you stamp on his foot as hard as you can.

Armando yelps at the sensation, doubling over, giving you enough time to kick him in the legs and send him down on the ground.

As soon as he hits the floor you take off, running down the steps as fast as you can.

In the foyer, you check for the exit in front of you, but the door is locked.

Your head is buzzing, you didn’t have much time as Armando would be up soon, probably ready to kill you, and that Isabel, who knew what she’d do if she caught you.

You had to move fast, and the window behind you, seemed like your best bet.

You scurried over me to it, working frantically as you tore wooden planks off the window.

You about all got your face out the window before strong arms wrap around your waist living and pushing your back.

You scream as you hit the ground, coming face to face with a less than pleased Armando.

“Enough games!” He shouts.

You crawl backwards, afraid he’ll hit you…or worse.

“Okay!’ You whimper. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” You squeak as he towers over your shaking body.

You fully expect him to return the blows you’d given him earlier, but to your surprise he doesn’t. He just grabs you up again and takes you back to that same room.

Shoving you inside he gives you a parting word.

“Do that shit again, and I won’t save you.” He slams the door, leaving you alone in a windowless room, wondering how you’ll end up dead.

In all the enemies your father has had, none of them had mad it a personal mission to kidnap you…so why had they?

Fingers toiling with the dirt around you, it finally clicked.

This was a set up.

You were bait.

And just as fate would have it, you could hear what sounded like your father and Marcus crowding in the foyer downstairs.

You stood up, running towards the door and banging on it like a madwoman.

“Help! Dad! Uncle Marcus!” You shout, slamming your fist against the door.

When the door flies open, you expect to see one or both of them there, but you see Armando.

“Come on.” He grabs you. “Nice and easy.” He places a gun to your temple.

“Stop, why are you doing this?” You whimper, taking careful steps down the stairs.

“Why did your father start it, hm, princesa?” He questions, pulling you in front of your family.

“Dad!” You shout, tears pooling from your eyes.

“Let her go, Armando!’ He shouts, turning to Isabel who stands elated. “She’s a kid.”

“We were all kids once, Mike. It’s why she must have her turn.” Isabel says.

Mike shakes his head, drawing his gun at her, Marcus doing the same to Armando.

“You kill me, he kills her.” Isabel shrugs.

Marcus adds, “then I’ll kill him.”

“Then it’ll be a blood bath.”

You whimper, “please don’t hurt me.”

Armando tightens his grip on you. “Cállate.”

“I just want to go home, daddy.” You cry.

Mikes hand shakes as he hears your pleas. “I know, baby, and we will.”

Isabel smacks her lips. “Liar!” She shouts, lunging at Mike.

Mike dodges the hit, but Marcus’s gun going off starts a cataclysmic event.

Everyone who wants present before suddenly emerging from the darkness and letting off their weapons.

You scream, falling back into Armando, who lifted you off the ground with one hand while shooting with the other, as the chaos erupts around you.

“Marcus!’ Mike yells. “Get Isabel, I’ll get my daughter!”

Marcus sprints, to the best of his ability, after Isabel, while Mike makes full way towards Armando.

In a dark room, Armando drops you, pushing you into a corner.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” He threatens.

You whimper in a comply.

You hear your father, Mike, burst through the doors, calling your name.

You do as Armando says, though, keeping quiet, afraid anything you do or say will get you and Mike hurt…or worse.

You watch from the dark corner as your father searches the room, only seconds later Armando jumps him, landing a blow.

You watch from the sidelines as they traded blows back and forth.

And it hurt to watch your father in a fight, it did, but what hurt most? The words slipping from his mouth.

“Armando,’ he said. “I’m your father.”

Your head was buzzing, spinning.

What the fuck did he mean this man was his son? How was that even possible?

Your heart raced as you watched Armando’s face fall, confusion lacing every corner.

“You’re lying,’ he said lading another blow, bending down and dragging your father out of the room and into the burning hallway.

You weren’t sure if it was adrenaline or curiosity, but you needed to see this through, hear it for yourself.

You push to stand and creep after them.

Armando has your father at the ledge, his shirt balled up working his hands.

“Last chance,’ he croaks, eyes searching. “Who are you?”

“I just told you.”

“Lie again.” Armando growled, wrapping his hand around your fathers neck, applying pressure.

You gasped, stepping forward, but a hand cautioned you to stay hidden.

You turn, finding Marcus’s comforting eyes as he mouths, “Don’t do it.”

"He needs us," you whisper in protest, Marcus's arm staying firm on yours.

"They need this, just wait."

You relax, only a little watching the scene unfold.

"Ask your mother if you don't believe me." Mike croaks.

Armando turns, loosening his grip on Mike, and in a turn of lightning, Isabel appears, mumbling in Spanish.

"Es verdad lo que dice?" Armando questions his mother.

Isabel shrugs. "No es importante. Mátalo.' her eyes drag over to where you and Marcus stand. "Entonces ellos."

Armando shakes his head in frustration. "Es mi papá?"

Isabel's eyes darken, her words fleeing her mouth more rapidly. "

"Is he my father!" Armando shouts.

Something in the way your father laid limp in Armando's graps, the fire and smoke building around you all, and the life you once knew just yesterday crumpling around you had you desperate for the truth.

"Tell him!" You shout.

Isabel pays you no mind when she says, "yes."

Three letters.

One word.

That was all it took for your world to shatter.

You had a brother you hadn't known about, a brother who drugged and kidnapped you.

all of his children have his eyes.

A brother your father had behind you and your mother's back.

The realization made your mind splinter, picking up in your chest with each shortened breath you took.

Tears pooled in your eyes, making the scene in front of you blur and sharpen, wax and wane.

It's not until a shout and commotion caused you to dial back in, where you find Isabel pointing the barrel of her gun directly at your chest.

You're too frozen to move and put your hands up to brace yourself for the pain, for death.

But it never comes.

only the sounds of four shots ringing out and blaring in your ears, that's the only sensation you get.

You move your hands from your eyes and find Isabel falling over the balcony to her death and Armando on the floor, his shirt filling with blood as Mike, Marcus, and Rita crowd around him.

It clicks then for you, he took that bullet for you, he stepped in for you against his mother.

This family was dysfunctional as hell.

"Get over here!' your father calls out to you. "Now!"

You scurry over, tearing off your flannel and placing it on Armando's wound.

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Rita shouts.

"Go with Rita!" Mike shouts towards you.

You nod, locking hands with Rita and rushing out of the burning building.

Once outside, you look behind yourself to find Mike and Marcus dragging Armando's body and placing him on the ground, applying pressure to his wounds.

The rain clouds your vision as you draw closer to the van waiting to take you away and back home.

"Is he going to be okay?" You ask, holding your wet and naked arms.

Rita sighs, ushering you into the car. "I don't think that's something you should have to worry about.' She smiles softly. "Get some rest, kid. Okay?"

You nod and shut the door, feeling the car jerk before it pulls off and away from the chaos.

You fasten your seatbelt and lean your head back against the headrest.

Perhaps Rita was right, maybe worrying about Armando wasn't such a good idea. Maybe it was best for you to shove it down and let your dad deal with it, like he did everything.

Because you didn't think your heart could handle any more than what it was already going through. Thinking about Armando, your father, and Isabel...it would only weigh you down more.

So you decided to leave them all at that building that night, to burn up in the flames.

At least you tried to...

Four Years Later

Miami Florida University

"Please tell me you're coming to this party tonight?" Your friend, Kiesha, asked over the phone.

You chuckle, climbing the last flight of stairs to your apartment. Your father, Mike, had got it for you as gift for being in your last year of college.

“I can’t, sorry.’ You place the key code to your apartment and the door unlocks. “Lots of studying to do.” You half-lie.

“Girl, all you do is study. You know college is not actually for school.” You can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

You drop your bags on the counter, pulling out a pack of ramen noodles and starting a pot of boiling water.

“That’s easy to say for someone who’s only half majoring in, what is it, communications?” You comment.

The line goes silent for a minute before Keisha comes back.

“Wow,’ she scoffs. “I get that you’re stressing out with finals and you know, your dad being a fucking fugitive and all, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

You run a hand through your hair, it getting tangled within your curls towards the end.

“Kiesh,’ you groan.

“Save it. Have fun studying.” She grumbles before hanging up.

“Fuck!’ You shout, turning and tossing your phone down the hallway.

Your grip at your hair and tug slightly, shutting your eyes you feel a hot tear slip out.

It had been a whole week since your father and uncle Marcus were deemed fugitives and accused of doing God knows what. It had been hard for you and Christine.

Knowing your father, you knew the allegations weren’t true, but another cover up, same as Captain Howard.

Still, you know it was bullshit meant nothing to the “adults” in charge. They saw him as guilty, and that seemed to be the end of it.

You turn, wiping away your tears and placing your ramen into the boiling pot of water.

It wasn’t the best, but it was all you could stomach these days, the fear of your family's future causing your appetite to slim.

You twirling the noodles in the water with a pair of chopsticks, watching the five minute timer chime by. It all but captivated you into a trance until a creak against the floor caught your attention.

You turn your head, peering down the hallway you had just thrown your phone. Staring into the darkness, you see a figure moving towards you slowly.

You gasp, grabbing a large knife and holding it out in front of you with shaky hands.

You would call for help, but unfortunately your phone was in harms way.

“Don’t come any closer,’ you squeak.

The figure doesn’t respond, it just trudges closer and closer to you until it’s emerged into your kitchen lighting.

At first, you have to squint real hard to make out who it is, but then, when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, so hauntingly like your own, you know who exactly it is.

Your brother, Armando.

You don't drop the knife, keeping it held high as you slowly approach him. You'd seen how vicious he was, and you weren't taking any chances with him.

Closing the space between you two, you could see that he's in full tactical gear, covered in blood.

He takes another step towards you, you step back, before collapsing onto the ground and passing out.

You rush towards his side. “What the hell!” You rip open his vest, finding all kinds of stab wounds and lacerations littering his body. “Armando!” You shake him.

He doesn’t respond, you shake him again, harder this time, and a tiny black book falls out.

You open the book and find your address on one sheet and another sheet addressed to you.

Don’t hate me, babygirl. I’ll explain everything soon, until then, you two lay low.

Be strong for me.

Love, Dad.

You could scream, you could actually fucking scream right now.

No way this motherfucker sends this other motherfucker to your house for you to nurse back to health.

You crumple up your father’s note, chucking it across the room.

Looking down at Armando, you watch the slow rise and fall of his chest as he lay unconscious.

It was obvious he was loosing blood, and you could let him bleed out and pretend you tried everything.

But then again, he saved your life before…and he didn’t even know you.

Guilt tugged in your chest at the thought.

“Fuck.” You breathed, throwing your head back.

You knew what you had to do.

You figured lifting him would be hard, he was bigger than you by a long shot and was basically deadweight.

You tapped him, shook him, slapped him…hard, but nothing woke him up.

Looks like you’d be operating on the floor.

You stood, gathering your curls in a pineapple on your head, and headed to your bathroom.

You grabbed all the first aid kit supplies you could find, fresh clothes, a blanket and pillow, before heading back out to the main part of your apartment.

You slipped on some gloves, cut open his shirt, and began working on his wounds, dressing them and putting on bandages.

Thank God for nursing school and clinicals.

It took you two bowls of ramen, a Celsius, and a whole heck of a lot of bandages and gorilla glue, but you got Armando mostly patched up.

You wiped the sweat of your forehead grabbing the pillow and blankets you’d grabbed.

You gently lifted his head placing the pillow underneath and the blanket on top of him.

Next to his body you placed the fresh clothes, Gatorade, protein bars, and a bottle of water.

When you finally stood, you felt woozy and in need of a shower and sleep yourself.

But before you crept off to take your shower, you stood over Armando, taking in his features.

His dark hair, his smooth skin, his nose, and lips. He looked like a Spanish version of your father and it was freaking you the fuck out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You walked away hoping your father’s explanation was coming soon because, you may have just saved his life on the conscious fact that he’d done the same for you, but he was still dangerous…and who knows what would happen to you when he wakes up.

The next morning, when you wake up, you creep out of your bedroom, peaking to see if Armando had moved at all.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

You release a heavy sigh, walking over towards his body.

You watch his chest rise and fall, faster than last night.

Good.

At least your dad couldn’t kill you for letting his son die.

You lean in a big closer to Armando, checking out his wounds from a far.

One wound had opened it seemed like.

You turn and grab the gorilla glue and a bandage of your counter.

Completely removing one bandage, you toss it to the side, pinching the skin of his chest while prepping the glue.

You’re just about to glue his would shut again, when his arm shoots up, gripping your wrist.

You scream, falling back on your ass.

Armando’s eyes shoot open and he sits up quick in a panic.

You crawl backwards, away from him, bumping into the cabinet .

Armando groans, rubbing his sore torso and arms.

His eyes skate across the room before they find yours.

He jumps back a little. “¿Qué diablos me hiciste?”

You swallow, holding your knees. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

Armandos eyes widen then narrow. “Did you do this to me?” He says, accessing his bandages.

You hesitate to tell him the truth…would he be mad and hurt you again?

Armando must sense the hesitation. “I’m not going to hurt you,’ he groans, slowly standing up. “It’s just a question.”

You nod, backing away from him. “Yes…I did.”

Armando swipes up the bottle of water, chugging it, tossing it aside, and then going for the Gatorade. “Gracias.” He grumbles, heading towards your bathroom.

You stand, slowly following after him, still keeping some distance between you two.

Armando peers over his should, eyebrow raised. “Mike sent me, if you’re wondering.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here.”

“I never said that.” You clarify, even though he’s not wrong.

“Don’t need to.”

You frown. “Armand—,”

He slams the door shut.

“Great.” You roll your eyes. “Just fucking great.”

You slam your head against the wall, thinking off all the ways you would tell your dad off when you saw him next. But until then, it seemed you and Armando would be roommates.

So you should try and be cordial, right?

[prncssie]

miffy’s note this is something i wrote for kuna a while back and discovered i actually struggle to write him rn so this never got finished but im posting it as is bc this concept will probably never get finished pfft. enjoy her as is c: nothing really happens but mdni as always

nighttime in the summer is a little sweeter than the rest of the year. the stars glimmer brighter, the air feels more crisp, even the moon is illuminated with such a shine you kept help but admire her from miles below.

nighttime in the summer is meant times like these, providing you a sense of safety while you enjoy your youthfulness while you can.

you lean against the silver porsche cayman, sitting idle in the mall parking lot. the owner, pink-haired and bubbly, stands in eyesight, sparking up a conversation excitedly with his friend — a brooding dark haired man you’ve come to learn is megumi.

you can only hear bits and pieces of their conversation over the engines revving around you but nevertheless, their friendship is the same, with yuji excitedly waving his hands to display his thrill and megumi casting him sideways glances. despite the annoyed disposition he gives off, everyone knows he doesn’t really mind. if anything, megumi just considers most people a general inconvenience.

“has anyone ever told you you talk too much?” megumi asks with an unconvincing roll of his eyes. the slight lift of the corners of his mouth give him away as he begins to walk towards you, hands tucked in the pockets of his black shorts, soft and cottony.

it does nothing to deter yuji who just grins, trailing behind him. glint brown eyes glimmer with joy, no matter that he’s being chastised by his own friend. “just you, all the time. you’re such a good friend, megumi. i value our friendship so much.”

megumi pauses midstep to turn and face the other. his eyes are narrowed into slits and he just stands there as the seconds pass, glaring silently. he considered slapping his hand against yuji’s chest but he doesn’t. he simply clicks his tongue and makes his way towards you, grumbling under his breath.

“i’m getting bored,” you say with a huff. your arms are crossed tightly across your chest as a symbol of your protests. “you guys told me it would be fun and i believed you because you never agree on anything.”

“it will be fun. it’s fun right now but you’re standing here guarding my car instead of doing anything else.” yuji positions himself beside you. he gets a view of the parking lot, full of modded cars blowing hazy exhaust smoke into the night sky.

it was his idea to attend a local car meet and him who first sent the invitation your way. you were only enticed to attend when the rest of your friends agreed to join, as well. frankly, it’s not really your thing to leave the comfort of your home and watch cars do donuts, screeching and leaving skid marks all over the road.

it may be entertaining but it’s not your thing.

“what if your car gets stolen? you’re gonna wish i was here guarding it.”

“no one wants his shitbox. i can promise you that,” the black-haired man snickers. he eyes the cayman with faux disdain.

“don’t be upset my car is better than yours, megs. not everyone can be as good as me.” yuji clamps his hand down on megumi’s shoulder, patting the lean muscles sympathetically.

you think their friendship is strange, often flip-flopping between enemies to acquaintances to besties. if you didn’t know any better, the thought of them being related could have crossed your mind. you know better, though, having already met his brother before. “where’s sukuna?”

yuji shrugs, glancing around the strangers that mill between cars. “i dunno. he’s somewhere. he rode his bike here so he’s probably riding around somewhere.”

“and nobara?”

this time, you both turn to megumi — the one who was in charge of bringing her here as yuji has done for you.

“i’m not her babysitter. i don’t fuckin’ know. maybe she found some guy to french kiss or something. that’s not my business.” megumi gives a small shake of his head. he’s not open to having this conversation; there’s no point. what she does in her free time has nothing to do with him.

this time, you find yourself giggle lightly. it’s drowned out by the growing vibrato of an engine rolling up to approach the three of you. it brings a breeze with it, sparking goosebumps to rise across your skin.

with the season heightening the nighttime temperature, it’s warm enough that you’re able to wear a sleek, athletic skirt. it’s dark gray material is smooth against the tops of your thighs and is accompanied with a tiny pair of shorts attached to the inside, necessary when you consider the short length. you paired it with a thick-strapped camisole, scented with a flowery perfume the wafts through the air when you walk by. you have yet to get hit with a sudden chill since you’ve stepped out of yuji’s car. after all, he enjoys blasting the ac in tandem with the volume of the radio, blasting j. cole through the speakers connected to his phone through airplay.

“i drove around for ten minutes looking for you brats.” a motorcycle comes to a smooth stop a few feet away, humming its gas away. the driver, decked out in gear, wraps a gloved hand around the helmet and tugs it off. his voice is muffled behind the layers of plastic and kevlar.

still, its familiar and your suspicions are confirmed when you spot the same pink hair of the younger itadori, the one who’s standing by your side now. you still remember the day sukuna and yuji dyed their hair after a drunken promise they were forced to uphold at the threat of being called a pussy for months to come. it was recent, merely a few weeks ago.

sukuna has his own genetic differences, though. while the two could be a splitting image, there’s little things that set them apart. yuji, having only recently turned twenty, looks more boyish with rounder eyes and a perma-smile. on the otherhand, sukuna has a much sharper jawline.

the angles of his face are more prominent, giving him a stronger bone structure. his eyes are slimmer and sometimes glint with a color so brown, they almost appear red. when he smiles, it appears like a smirk, with white incisors poking over the bottom of his pillow soft, pink lips.

your stomach twists and turns under the surface.

“have you seen nobara?” yuji tilts his head with his question. his hair, grown out from his last haircut, flops over the tops of his scalp until its waving on the opposite side. “we were just talking about how we don’t know where she is.”

sukuna furrows a brow. he breaks his eye contact temporarily to push the kickstand down and turn his bike off. “no . . .? i’m not looking for that girl.” he swings his leg over the seat of his bike. a thick, black boot makes contact with the asphalt with a weighty thump.

“her lo’ says she’s here.” megumi jumps into the conversation, flashing the bright screen of his phone to display the “find my” app. surely enough, nobara’s silly sleeping face — eyes closed and mouth hanging wide open — is hovering over the same lot you three stand in now.

“then she’s here.” sukuna barks out, that smile-smirk gracing his lips. “fuck are we waiting for?” his eyes find their way to yours and you’re convinced they taunt you, a breath hitching in your throat. every time sukuna comes around, it always gets harder for you breathe.

you’ve known sukuna for a few years now — yuji, megumi, and nobara too. you’ve even come to meet the itadori siblings half brother, choso, who really only

comes around on big holidays due to strain between their parents, to which of neither of their faults.

five years ago, when you first moved to the rolling hills of the suburbs, nobara was the friend you made but not the first person you met. megumi was the first person you met in your accelerated history class but he didn’t come off that welcoming. it wasn’t until nobara introduced you into the long-standing friend group that he even became open to the idea of accepting you into his general circle.

somewhere along the line, after months of establishing a friendship with yuji and spending time after school at his house, you met sukuna, the slightly older brother who could be described as a bit rude and blunt, slightly abrasive. sukuna never had a filter and he speaks as he sees it, through his world view. you suppose it’s that harsh demeanor that draws you to him out of curiosity.

“ ☆ said she’s bored so we were going to race. cops are about to be called anyway; we’re making so much noise.” yuji pulls his car keys out of his pocket and click the little unlock button. behind you, the cylindrical latch jumps up with a shick!

“we are?” megumi reels his head back in confusion but his question falls on deaf ears because you’re asking a question too, with more purpose, whipping your head to stare at yuji.

you look suddenly frightened, eyes widens dan mouth hanging open, gobsmacked. there’s a small twinge of fear that sparks in the base of your warm tummy. “who is about to be called?” you stand on your feet, solid in the fresh white new balances.

you can’t afford that, the three of them know that. your future holds too much to risk, with another year wt your prestigious college approaching at the summer months dwindle away. you’ve never had so much of a blemish on your file in school. you’d never be open to committing a crime in public and sending an infraction to be documented in a report.

you’re convinced your internship would be flushed down the drain if you get even a minor infraction, not to mention the pushback from your parents. though you, yourself, are twenty years old and only return home for the summer, you can only imagine what they’d have to say.

sukuna clicks his tongue with a roll of his eyes. he’s always been a little sassy like that, angling his head in the direction of his yamaha. “relax, princess. if you’re so worried ‘bout your daddy finding out, ride with me. no chance they’re catching me and i don’t have any tags.”

you’re unconvinced, squinting your eyes at the two seater. your attention bounces between the bike and sukuna, wrapped safely in the safety of stiff fabrics to protect him from any possible accidents, breathable enough for him to move comfortably. “i don’t have a helmet, sukuna.”

“i do,” yuji shifts his car keys in his hand until his thumb skims across the smooth depiction of the trunk of his car. the keys jingle around the ring, once silver and tarnished after months of use.

he pops his trunk open and round the back until he’s standing at the tail of the silver caymen, peering into the squared space. yuji plants his hands on his hips and scans the mess, glancing over discarded papers, shoes he’s been meaning to take out for months, and other junk that’s been collected from friends throughout the weeks. “there should be one in here. i keep a spare on me.”

“it might be too big, though. your head is like . . . huge. i don’t know how you’re still so stupid with a bobble head on your shoulders.” megumi chortles. a tanned nike makes contact with a pebble and it goes skittering along a thick white line and disappears beneath yuji’s two-seater.

“it’s sukuna’s, you goof.” yuji’s voice maintains that lightness he always has, reaching into the upper layer of his trunk to dig around. he pulls down a few jackets, nobara’s blanket, and a purple hair tie.

underneath the layers and layers of multicolored fabric lays another helmet, white in color and just as shiny as the one sukuna sports now. it’s a bit more dinged up, covered in scratches and scuffs from being tossed around.

“oh, you got nothing to say because it’s mine now, right?” sukuna raises an amused brow. these days, he’s taken a bit of a liking to megumi, having grown some version of twisted brotherly love that makes him push and push at his buttons, knowing megumi wouldn’t fight back. he couldn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. anyone fighting sukuna is predestined to a losing battle.

megumi knows this, lifting and dropping his shoulders in a careless shrug. “whatever. i’m going to go look for nobara since obviously, no one else cares.”

you can’t help but snort. “don’t pussy out, megu. you were the one who said you’re not her babysitter and now you wanna look for her.”

he casts you a glare on his way out, prolonging his gaze over his shoulder as he turns, digging the heel of his shoe into the black asphalt. “piss off,” he spits out before wandering away with purpose.

small giggles escape the plump gates of your lips as the man’s shadow disappears into the crowd, hazy and cheering as cars race by, occasionally accompanied by a motorcycle or two. it all reminds you of your original conquest, turning your attention to yuji, and just in time too, because he’s tossing the white helmet in your direction without warning.

“yuji, what the fuck?” you’re lucky that you acted fast, even if your fingers fumble clumsily to maintain a firm grip. “you could have said something. were you just going to let it hit me?”

yuji raises his hands apologetically. under the streetlights, his cheeks brighten with a subtle rosy glow. his wordless apology isn’t enough, though, and you’re prepared to scold him some more but sukuna beats you to it, sighing obnoxiously.

“quit your fussing, put the damn thing on, and let’s go. i don’t have all night and i haven’t done shit since i got here.” he takes the initiative to walk up to you and pull it over your head himself. he doesn’t have time to hear you wail and cry about how you don’t know how to do it, how you don’t appreciate how he’s talking to you, or whatever else your princess brain could come up with.

he supposes that’s the side effect that comes with growing up upper middle class, being so accustomed to living the plush and comfortable life that you feel every little thing is an injustice to you. after all, your mom works as a dentist and your dad a physical therapist.

for as long as you can remember, every wish and whim of yours has been granted. your parents went as far as enrolling you in the expensive, competitive dance classes. you spent many weekends at friend’s houses, sleeping over and riding with them to and from competitions when your parents weren’t able to take you themselves. on top of that, you’ve always attended the best private schools your parents could afford, leading you to a gateway of open doors and opportunities you would have otherwise missed out on. you’re a spoiled little thing; sukuna supposes that’s what draws him into you, a sort of fascination, a morbid curiosity.

your grumbles become muffled behind the thick layer of polycarbonate and sukuna smiles. finally, peace. “hey brat,” he turns to his brother — who’s playfully shaking his head, slamming the hood of his trunk shut — “stick with fushiguro. he ain’t smart, either. last thing we need is the both of ‘em locked up overnight. i don’t have the funds to get ‘em out.”

the younger itadori, much better at complying with directions, shakes the mop of hair on his head and tucks his hands in his pockets. “okay fine, i guess. i’ll text you later if something happens and meet you somewhere, i guess.” nevertheless and despite his slight complaint, yuji gets settled into his car and rolls away, headlights illuminating thin clouds of smoke.

all that’s left is you and sukuna, standing in front of each other. for a moment, you consider this could be a sweet sentiment. that is until he knocks the palm of his hand against your helmet, sending your head off balance and derailing what coordination you did have.

“sukuna.” you grit your teeth and deliver a similar blow to his helmet. it lacks the similar strength and yet, his eyes flash with annoyance.

“hit me again and i’ll kill you. do you want a lose helmet or do you want to keep your head.”

you scowl, invisible behind the dark tint. you say nothing in return, partly because your voice is exhausted from having to yell just to be heard. the other part is because arguing with him is pointless. so you just huff, brush past him, and stand by his bike until he’s ready, signifying you’re going to drop the conversation and move on to more important things. what a dick, he is.

you aren’t entirely sure how it happened. one moment you’re sitting on the back of sukuna’s bike, arms wrapped around his waist and pressing your chest against his back. he drives around at much slower speeds than he usually would, for your sake. he takes a few laps around the crowd and occasionally kicks you off to showcase his skills, throwing his weight to the edge of his seat and lifting the front wheel of his bike. this particular part trick gets cheers from the crowd that only encourages his behavior and sends pleasant adrenaline coursing through his vein.

ten minutes later, you’re still off sukuna’s bike but hidden within the empty courtyard of the mall. you’re still under the moonlight, yet no one has bothered to come this far, not interested in the empty marble fountain or the metal seating, all placed strategically on the pavement. your butt is firmly planted on the metal table. the black paint still stands strong against the forces of nature.

your legs are pulled apart to make room for the figure in between you and then some, with calloused hands gently circling around your joints. it’s surprising when you think about the contrast in the way he kisses you, hard and with a fervent hunger. he doesn’t even have to hold your head against his because you’re doing the work for him, looping your arms around sukuna’s neck.

it was inevitable that you’d both end up thisp way, after all the tension was palpable between you. once everyone else left you in the company of each other, your fates were set in stone. plus, there is always something so intoxicating about being with each other this way, bantering or barely talking in front of the group but sneaking off to have secret escapades, much like this one.

you couldn’t count on both hands the amount of times you’ve locked lips with sukuna when no one else was around and if you were lucky, it would venture into something more. now though, you’re outside so the only thing you really can do is kiss each other, connected by strings of saliva.

it started off plain and simple but that didn’t last very long. it only takes a few seconds for the need to take over and sukuna ends up sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. he nibbles on the skin, pulling it back and releasing it. it bounces back into place with a soft juggle, interrupted by the onslaught press sukuna’s lips against yours again.

you’re a whining mess, the heated region between your thighs craving more, wanting his touch. yet, you can’t have it and you know it. there’s too much that could go wrong and if sukuna was going to touch you, then he was going to fuck. it would have an ending, an orgasm from at least one of you that isn’t promised in such an unstable and risqué situation.

“ ‘kuna,” you keen against the soft pads of his pink lips. your eyes flutter in tandem with you cunt, gaping for any friction available.

it’s so funny to him how that switch flips somewhere in your brain that makes you so pliant and only with him. you look at him to make all your decisions, handing over your autonomy and placing it in his hands. when you want something, he can tell. you look at him with a certain glint in your blown out, brown eyes. your mouthiness suddenly halts and you plead in that tone.

“don’t start,” he shushes you by sticking his tongue down your throat, swirling the wet muscle around the cavern of your mouth. your spit combines in a sloppy mess that just barely gathers in the corners of your mouth. “i don’t wanna hear it. don’t ask me shit.”

you frown but it doesn’t last very long, not when sukuna takes your chin between his fingers and lifts your head. his lips make contact with your neck, sinking his teeth into the skin there, too. it makes you gasp with a twitch and sukuna offers his apologies by lapping at the faint marks left in his wake. “and fix your face, spoiled. got you dickmatized so bad you just don’t know what to do, huh?”

you turn your fingers towards the nape of sukuna’s neck, brushing the silky brown undercut. “s - shut up,” you mumble. a small flame of humiliation sparks to life inside you. your senses are slow the wake with sukuna’s light degradation. maybe you only feel that way because it’s true and almost out of character for you.

however, you’re thrown right back into that state of submission when sukuna lifts his head. “and just who are you talking to? you want to try that again?” his eyes have hardened over with a firmness yet he seems entertained by your weak bite back.

you feel a bit stuck as different variants of responses flash through your head at rapid speed. you could apologize, you could double down, you could even dismiss it. no matter what decision you make, there still isn’t much that he could do. you’re in public and that is you’re one solace.

you’re interrupted before you can get a single word you. sukuna’s phone buzzes on the table beside you, lighting up due to the quick text yuji sent from wherever he was. the man standing comfortably between your limbs leans in the direction of his phone, staring at the screen until the text is readable and unlocked.

yuji : bibs here. leave rn

“lucky girl,” he says, red eyes skimming the four words before patting your leg and taking a step back. “yu saved your ass. guess you owe him somethin’.” sukuna reaches for his helmet and pulls it over his head once more. he waits for you to get the clue to do the same but in the meantime, he’s already gone to start his bike and roll it up beside you. “gotta get you outta here. i’ll take you home. get on.”

[moonkake-143]

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 | What's Said is Said

Goblin King!Eddie X AFAB/Fem!Henderson Reader

Edited by the lovely: Jen

(please go and check out her stuff its amazing and without her you wouldn't be reading this right now.)

Content: Slow-burn, one-sided pining from Eddie, love at first sight, angst, swearing, minor injury, blood, minimal to no use of Y/n

Summary: You never believed the story you told your little brother would end up becoming a reality, so when a mysterious man named Eddie claims to be the Goblin King after your brother goes missing, you can't help but be skeptical- but he's handsome, and you can't help but fall under his spell. One thing is for sure, though- you need to find Dustin, no matter the cost.

A/n: This will most likely be the only time I put one of these at the start of the fic. But the start of this is FINALLY here, I'm sorry it took so long to come out me and my editor have been busy and only recently have we gained some free time to finish this chapter. This idea has been on my mind for months and I can't wait for you all to dive into this 80s Labyrinth inspired fic!!

Chapter 1/? {wc: 3.8k}

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

        Hawkins, Indiana was no stranger to bats, especially around fall, so you paid no mind to the one that flew over your head, hanging from the very tree you relaxed under. Lover's Lake was always popular at sundown, but when the sky was still painted blue and the stars had yet to say hello, it was your secret spot, especially when you wanted to escape for a few hours to read. Your current interest was a red leather-bound book that comfortably rested between your hands.

        The title had faded from the cover, but the first page named it The Labyrinth- it was a mysterious novel with no author listed. You had saved it from the depths of your local thrift store where it had collected dust, begging for you to take it home, beckoning you to uncover its secrets. In your free time, you had thrown yourself into the book, unaware of how long you had spent underneath the tree with Dart, your golden retriever, who lay quietly beside you.

        “Give me the child.” Your words carried along the wind as you read, with theatrics fit for a proper dungeon master. At the sound of your voice, Dart’s ears perked up and he tilted his head. His wagging tail gently thumped against the dirt, mixing with the sound of small waves lapping against the bank.

        “Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen.”

        You turned the faded yellow page, a small smile gracing your features as Dart sat up, giving you his full attention.

        “For my will is as strong as yours, and my heart as great.”

        As if listening intently to your story, the bat hung silently overhead, its ears twitching.

        “For you will never have power over me…”

        Before you could finish the scene, a roar of thunder shook the ground, causing you to jump and shut the book with a loud thud. Dark grey clouds littered the once-blue sky, the air heavy and humid.

        The bat which had hung over you flew away, and Dart gave chase, barking in its direction.

        “Dart!” You shouted.

        Shoving the book into your bag, you bolted up from your place under the tree, your fantasy fading as you brushed the dirt from your jeans. As if the rumbling thunder and barking dog weren’t enough, your wristwatch let out a beep that was all too familiar.

        “Shit! Come on, Dart! Mom’s gonna be so pissed!”

        You pulled your bike up from the side of the tree, hopping onto the seat and peddling away. Letting out one last howl as the bat disappeared into the branches, Dart turned to run after you, and before you could even curse the sky, the rain came pouring down.

        Peddling as fast as your legs could manage, you made it into town, turning sharp corners and crossing streets, taking as many shortcuts between houses and through back-alleys as possible to avoid the downpour.

        By the time you had made it to your street and turned into your driveway, you and Dart were thoroughly soaked. Ditching your bike, you followed Dart as he ran into the garage, furiously shaking the water from his fur. Trying to catch your breath, you wiped the rain from your face, your wet clothes clinging to you uncomfortably.

        Closing the garage, you left Dart there to warm up, letting yourself inside to escape the dreary cold. Despite the warmth of the house, you shivered as your doting mother came to greet you, holding your fussy three-year-old little brother.

        “Dustin, look who's here!" She chirped. "Only twenty minutes late!”

        “I know, Mom. I’m sorry, okay?” You huffed, kicking off your wet shoes and socks. “…Put him down so he can walk- you need to stop babying him.”

        “You know I rarely get to go out with the girls…and he's still my little Dusty-Bun.”

        “You go out all the time! I’m always stuck babysitting!”

        “You know I only have you babysit when it doesn't interfere with your plans.” Your mother’s beloved ginger cat, Mews, rubbed against her leg as she held Dustin, who looked between the two of you with interest, his blue eyes staring you down.

        “Well, you didn't even ask!”

        “I assumed you would tell me if you did! I’d like you to have plans, really! You should be going out and having fun at your age- maybe meeting a boy!”

        Pushing past her, you grabbed a towel from the bathroom and stalked to your room, slamming the door shut. Everything was so infuriating. When you pulled your book out, you found that it had gotten wet, and with a huff, you threw your bag into your desk chair. Shivering, you wrung the water from your hair, quickly changing out of your soaked jeans and sweater, and into something warm and more comfortable.

        Wrapping the towel around your shoulders to catch the water still dripping from your hair, you flopped into bed, shutting your eyes and soaking in the rare quietness as raindrops pelted the window. It was nice to be left alone.

        But good things don't last, and your illusion of silence shattered when your mother eventually pushed the door open, her honey blonde hair meticulously curled, with makeup swiped on with precision, and that dress. It sparkled and shined, catching your eye the moment she walked in. It was like you were four again and watching her get ready to go out, trying on different pairs of heels as your dad struggled with his necktie.

        But you remember that you're almost nineteen now and your dad left- he left you and your pregnant mother for a woman half her age. You shook your head, trying to forget those memories, and when you finally tuned back in, your mother was at the end of her usual speech.

        “-back by midnight, I already fed Dustin and put him in his playpen. Make sure to tuck him in, alright? You know he's still scared of thunder. I love you…both of you.”

        The older woman was closer to you then you realized as she leaned down to kiss your forehead, though she left the room quickly, her high heels muffled by the carpeted halls. You heard her walk to the garage, start the car, and disappear into the evening, leaving you alone with your little brother.

        Letting out a frustrated sigh, you went looking for a hairdryer, laying your poor book across your desk and peeling the damp pages apart. Finding your mother's on the bathroom counter, you plugged it into the wall and with a whir, began wafting hot air over the wet book, hoping it wasn't too badly damaged.

        A sudden clap of thunder shook the house, and as you jumped, Dustin shrieked at the top of his lungs. The cry was ear-piercing and nearly drowned out the roar of the hairdryer- you could hardly hear yourself think.

        With a frustrated groan, you switched it off, stomping to the living room. Dustin's playpen sat in the corner, filled with colorful plastic toys and stuffed animals that had once been yours. He stood at the edge of the pen with outstretched arms, red-faced and wailing your name as tears poured down his cheeks, his blanket laying forgotten on the ground.

        Clicking your tongue, you gently picked Dustin up and carried him to your mother's room, with Mews silently watching from the sofa. He clung to you for dear life, his cries shattering your eardrums as another crack of thunder rang out.

        “Come on Dustin, stop crying! You're a big boy now, you can't be afraid of thunder!” Your voice was stern, which only seemed to make him wail louder, snot dripping from his nose.

        Sitting him on his racecar bed, you grabbed a tissue box from your mother's nightstand. Wiping his face, you made him blow his nose, your patience wearing thin as the tears kept coming. After disposing of the tissues, you tucked him under his blanket, sitting on the edge of his bed.

        “Fine, do you want a story?!”

        Sniffling, Dustin nodded, his small hands tightly gripping the blanket.

        “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl whose mother always made her stay home with the baby. The baby was a spoiled child and had everything for himself, so the girl was practically forgotten.”

        Thunder roared and a flash of lightning illuminated the room, making Dustin bolt upright, his eyes glassy and full of fear.

        “But what no one knew was that the King of Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and she too had fallen for him, granting her certain powers.” You waved your hands for effect, trying to distract him.

        A crash of thunder rang out, and Dustin whined fearfully, still sniffling.

        “So one night, when the child had been left to his older sister, she called upon the goblins for help…”

        “Listen!” The nest stirred- they were all awake now, eyes wide and ears pointed in her direction.

        “Wha happen?” Dustin lisped in a small voice, his hand reaching for yours and gripping it tightly.

        “'Say your right words,' the goblins said, 'and we shall take the baby to the Goblin City and you…will be free.'”

        The goblins gasped, their crazed red eyes staring at you from their disgusting nest in the Goblin King’s manor. Some had horns, others had sharp teeth, and some were dressed in remnants of armor, but they all had malevolent eyes, their ears prickling with excitement. They could feel the words that you wished to say but could not voice, felt the meaning, the anger, in the desire.

        “But the girl knew that the Goblin King would keep the baby in his castle forever and ever, turning him into a goblin- and so she suffered in silence.”

        “Isth da king evil?”

        “I don’t know, Dustin…but he loved the girl endlessly." You tucked him in again. "With a heavy heart, he watched the girl endure torture for months- until one day, after coming home from meeting with the Goblin King did she suffer cruel and harsh words from her mother. Ungrateful she was for raising her son, the young girl could bear it no longer...”

        Your voice fell into a mere whisper, and Dustin's brown curls fell against the pillow, his eyelids struggling to stay open.

        The rain pattered against the window, and you sighed when the boy finally let go of your hand, breathing softly and evenly as his arm fell to his side. Just as you had begun to stand, the silence disappeared with a sudden strike of thunder, and Dustin's eyes shot open in terror. He screamed, desperately clinging to you as tears welled up in his eyes again.

        “Hey, it's okay!”

        You could hear Dart barking from the garage as you stood up, wrapping your arms around Dustin. Pacing the room, you hummed a melody to try and calm his frustrating cries, but he dug his face into your shoulder, soaking it with tears.

        “Come on Dustin, stop it!” Your words came out fierce, yet your actions showed otherwise.

        “It’s scawy!”

        “I know it's scary, but you're a big boy, aren't you? You need to fight the fear.”

        You tried to shush him, rocking him back and forth just like you did when he was a newborn, only he was heavier now.

        “Dustin, please be quiet…or I’ll say the words.” You looked away from him, your voice lowered.

        “Wha words...?” He sniffled.

        “I wish...no, I can't...I shouldn't..."

        “Everyone, wake up! Listen!” Every eye, every ear and every goblin was awake now.

        “Is she going to say it?!” An excited goblin asked.

        “If you would shut up, I could find out!”

        “Who are you telling to shut up?!”

        “Both of you- quiet!” Another goblin smacked the bickering pair in the head.

        Dustin hiccupped, and when another roar of thunder shook the house- the loudest of them all- did his wails reach the highest of decibels. He trembled frightfully, tears streaming down his bright red cheeks as he clung to you for dear life, burying his face in your shoulder. With a defeated demeanor, you cried out in mock sacrifice, quoting the story.

        “I can bear it no longer! Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, come and take this child far away from me!”

        “No! Don take me! I be good! Pinky!” He promised.

        “Oh, that's not it!” The goblins let out crestfallen sighs.

        “It didn't even start with ‘I wish’...”

        You clicked your tongue and cuddled him, shaking your head.

        “Oh stop it, you little gremlin- nothing will come get you. But the girl cried…Oh, I wish…I wish...”

        You knew the words but couldn't bear to say them. Anger, jealousy, and sadness filled your thoughts as you looked at your younger brother; the child which you raised, the one that stole the best years of your adolescence from you. His crying slowly ceased and his breath calmed as you held him, the weight on your shoulder heavy. He was some form of asleep, at least for now.

        With a weary sigh, you put Dustin back to bed, gently tucking him under the blanket. As the downpour became a light rain, your mind wandered to your true thoughts- the ones the goblins could clearly see.

        “I wish I could say the words to let the goblins take you away…” You muttered, grateful for the boy's soft snores that covered your frightful words.

        One goblin let out an annoyed huff, trying to spell it out for you.

        “‘I wish the goblins would take you away right now.’ Not so hard, now is it?”

        Rubbing your temples, you headed towards the door.

        The goblins watched tensely, biting their nails with chattering teeth.

        “Did she say it?” A large, dense goblin suddenly asked.

        “Shut up!" They yelled in unison.

        A sudden clap of thunder rang out, causing you to jump. Behind you, Dustin screamed in fright, crying once more, wailing for you- all your hard work wasted.

        Gripping the doorknob, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, saying the wish you had never thought you would utter aloud.

        “I wish the goblins would come and take you away…” Standing in the doorway, you heard his wails hush once again.

        The goblins were so quiet they could hear a pin drop in their nest.

        “...Right now.”

        The door shut behind you, the clouds letting out a final battle cry before plunging the house into complete silence. There were no more cracks of thunder, the rain had stopped, and you didn't hear Dustin anymore.

        As you stood outside the room, you began to worry.

        You flung open the door, eyes darting around your mother’s dark bedroom. It was silent. No whine, no cry, and no calling of your name in the midst of a frightful thunderstorm. You hurried into the room, panic overtaking your features as you pulled back Dustin’s bedsheets, your heart sinking.

        Nothing. He was gone.

        “Dustin?! Come out, this isn't funny!”

        But there was no answer- not from your brother, at least.

        The sound of laughter rang out as something scurried around the room, the closet door slamming open and shut. You spun in its direction. Nothing was there. From the corner of your eye, you saw something crawl under the sheets of your mother's bed, but when you turned to look, it had disappeared into the floor. Your fear only escalated.

        “Dustin! Where are you?!”

        The high-pitched laughter only grew louder as you panicked, anxiety coursing through your veins as you spun around the room, your heart racing in your chest. The wind raged outside as you searched for your little brother, head spinning and eyes whirling. The window panes shook and clattered, a bat slamming against the glass over and over again. You felt ready to pass out. There was too much going on.

        With a roar of thunder, the window shattered. Gasping, you shielding your face from the burst of glass shards that now littered the carpet, the raging wind chilling you to your core. You heard the flapping of wings from somewhere in the room, and when you lowered your arms, you saw the bat. It dropped to the floor in a puff of thick smoke, growing and contorting into a towering figure. Your heart stopped.

        “Jeez, took you long enough to call for me! I thought I would have to meddle a bit more.” The voice was manly, cheery, and full of mirth, the chuckle turning into a bodacious laugh.

        Fear encompassed your body as you stumbled back, tripping over a giggling goblin and falling backwards onto the carpet. A stinging pain sliced through your hands as you landed on shards of glass, but all you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

        The man was captivating, with round brown eyes that seemed almost hungry, and dark hair that framed his angular face, falling around his shoulders in loose curls. His outfit resembled something out of a Renaissance fair, with a flared poet shirt and corset, his dark pants tucked into tall lace-up boots. The long velvet cape over his shoulders sparkled and shined like the night, as if the very stars had been woven into it, extravagantly fluttering in the wind that blew through the broken window.

        “...Where is he?” You found your voice, hands trembling slightly as they balled into bloody fists.

        “Where is who?”

        “My little brother!”

        Stepping closer, the man leaned down to your level. On closer inspection, he had freckles and a fanged grin- his teeth were sharper than any human's. You glared and forced a fire to your eyes, but his held no malice as he looked you over, his gaze landing on your trembling hands.

        “Who are you?! What have you done with Dustin?!” You demanded.

        His hands seized yours and you hissed in pain, the smell of iron hitting you as he held them up, his intense eyes seeming to sparkle. You winced at the sight of the injury- glass bits were embedded into your palms and a large gash ran through the center of your left hand, blood oozing from it.

        The man gently cupped your hands, passing his fingers over the wounds with dark, concentrated eyes. The throbbing pain dissipated as you recoiled, staring down at your injured palms. Before your very eyes, the glass in them crumbled into into sand, disappearing before the grains could hit the floor, and the blood seemed to flow back into your cuts, your skin sealing itself shut.

        Shock, confusion, and panic overtook you as you began to hyperventilate, your heart pounding. How could this be? You felt the glass pierce your hands, you smelled the blood- but not even a scar had been left behind.

        You quivered, hyperaware of how close this man was to you and how he definitely wasn't human.

        “Who are you!? What are you?!”

        “Me? I’m Eddie! You should already know that much, since you're the one who invited me here! I’ve been waiting ages for your call!”

        “Invited? My call?” You stammered. “…No…you’re the Goblin King...?!”

        “The one and only!”

        “No! It was a mistake! I was only telling a story- I didn't mean it! Bring him back!” You scrambled to your feet, shoving Eddie with newfound courageous force. He stumbled, his eyebrows scrunched as he held his ground, dusting off his cape.

        “My dear, what’s said is said- you're the one who wished him away. Story or not, it was in your heart.”

        “But I didn’t mean it! Please give him back!”

        “I’m afraid I can’t do that, but I brought you something better!”

        Eddie plucked a crystal ball out of thin air, its glass catching the glimmering rays of the faded moonlight.

        “Look into it, tell it your deepest wish, and your dreams will come true. Forget about the baby~” The crystal shimmered as it called you, beckoning for you to take it.

        “All my dreams?” You reached out with a slight tremor, your voice soft.

        “Yes, all of them.”

        Blinking, you froze, fingers mere inches from the crystal- how could you forget Dustin? Dustin, your little brother, who was probably terrified, was all alone somewhere far, and here you were ready to forget him. How could you think such a thing?

        “Where is he?! Tell me now!”

        You slapped away his outstretched hand, and the crystal orb tumbled to the ground. It shattered, and you gasped as a snake sprung from the fragments. Threatening to strike at your toes, you jumped from it, and the serpent slithered away into the darkness behind you, disappearing under your mother’s dresser.

        “Your brother is in my manor. If you wish to see him again, you will have to find your way through here.”

        Eddie stepped aside, the scenery outside the window changing from the dreary darkness of Hawkins to a bright landscape with rolling hills, covered in a lush green hedge labyrinth, and at the center lay a grand manor- it was like nothing that you had ever seen before. You stepped towards the window, and your mother's bedroom disappeared from around you.

        Where was this place?

        “I'm in the mood for a little game..." Eddie leaned in, his voice like honey in your ears. "If you do not reach your brother in the next, let's say thirteen hours, he'll remain here for eternity..." An ornate clock appeared behind Eddie, the hands moving before your very eyes. "...But if you can solve my labyrinth before time runs out, then the both of you may return home.”

        You flinched, your cheeks flushed from how close he had been.

        “So, what will you do?” He whispered the question like a prayer, his sparkling chocolate eyes drawing you in, drowning you- but you had to look away, eyeing the manor from your place on top of a grassy hill.

        “It doesn't look that far…” Your voice trailed off.

        He let out a laugh that warmed your very soul, the sound deep and rich, his grin sharp and toothy.

        “It’s farther than you think. But don’t fret- I shall benevolently monitor your progress, Miss Henderson- or should I call you…” He whispered your name as if it was a sin, his lips quipping into a smirk.

        Your eyes widened- you had never told him your name.

        “How did you-?”

        His eyes twinkled mysteriously, the clock chiming as it disappeared from thin air.

        “Good luck sweetheart, you're gonna need it!” With a gust of wind and the flutter of his cloak, Eddie vanished in a cloud of mist, his voice fading from your ears.

        You stared down at the manor, the labyrinth seeming more enormous than it had at first glance.

        But you had to get to the center and find Dustin- even if it meant encountering the peculiar Goblin King again.

        Fighting off a blush, you started walking.

Taglist: (if you want to be added or removed from the list let me know here!)

@sh0wthyself, @fracturedarkness 

[eblu3]

alright I need to explain what the hell has been happening here because I don't think anyone here really understands how bad it's been. here's a timeline:

late 2022: I'm still living in my childhood home with my dad, trying to ease myself into being an adult at a pace that I'm comfortable with, still working my part-time remote job. he falls head over heels for a girl from tampa.

november 2022: dad informs me that he's looking to move to tampa to marry his new gf. this means that I have to move out. I immediately get flustered because I am not enough of a 21 year old to understand how to move into a place yet so it gets backburnered.

january 2023: after a grand total of a single night looking at apartments, dad pulls the trigger for me without asking and signs me up for a $2,000/mo luxury apartment with my brother as my roommate and him as a financial benefactor, hiring movers along the way. my head spins as I realize that I have until the beginning of february to get everything set up. I somehow manage to do it.

february 2023: I move into the apartment. noise issues abound but I get used to them as much as I could. my brother still doesn't have a job, I occasionally poke him to get one because I can't foot 2 grand on top of bills and groceries by myself and dad will only help so much.

march-june 2023: I'm trying. my brother gets a job at a fast food place because everyone's pressuring him to get something and quits after a week because he hates it, yet he still takes the car while I'm not looking and occasionally doordashes. I turn 22, my bike that I've been meaning to learn how to ride gets stolen the same day due to neglect. dad decides to, with the financial support from his new wife, send me all the money that he had been planning to give me over the course of the year so his financial support is out of the picture. my work still won't bring me on full time. my brother eventually gets moved into mom's place because I'm fed up with his antics, but I'm not informed about it until it happens so I don't get any say in the matter or time to prepare. I am officially on borrowed time but shove it to the back of my mind because I am overwhelmed.

september 2023: I am officially out of money and can't pay the rent. I have nowhere else to go except for my mom's house outside of orlando, where she had moved for work earlier that year. I begrudgingly put myself into debt to greystar and let dad pack as much of my stuff as he could into a small u-haul and I move into her place.

october 2023: it's cramped. I am living in a three bedroom household with five people in it. the only space I have to myself is a queen-sized mattress in a room with my brother. I am still paranoid about people looking over my shoulder while I'm doing things so I don't use my computer at all. everyone keeps taking both of the cars and I have no public transit or walkability available to me so I'm essentially trapped in a single-family subdivision most of the time. I pretty much just shut down at this point, only doing the bare minimum to survive. when dad and his wife find out that the landlord is mad at my mom, they quickly move to move me out and into their place where I can hopefully recover.

november 2023: I move to dad's place outside of tampa where I hopefully have a bit more breathing room. it's a struggle to get used to grocery shopping for myself again. it's okay but my trauma responses keep getting triggered by him so it's decided that I need to move out again. my mom, who had recently moved out again to arkansas for work and broken up with my annoyingly conservative stepdad, is struggling to pay the rent, so I end up moving there again. I cross my fingers that this will be the last time in a while, I simply need the time to recover at this point.

december 2023: I move there. I pay half of my salary from my job which still hasn't done anything for me to mom, hopeful that I can just lay low and recover because I am fully out of steam at that point. she's still struggling financially but I don't see how anything could possibly get worse.

january 2024: I decide to ring in the new year by trying to be true to myself. I annoy everyone by constantly posting about a single pokemon I like because I simply have no idea how to control a behavior that I've never really engaged in before.

march 2024: I manage to destroy nearly every friendship I have because I use really crap judgment and choose my words extremely poorly, insulting everyone. I am distraught but force myself to engage in a community that had freaked me out prior because I had nowhere else to go. nothing has changed financially at all for me.

june 2024: mom announces that she is at risk of getting fired and that we need to move into a cheaper place ASAP. my job puts me on performance improvement because my stress and anxiety tank my ability to sleep and work. I apply to a new one, referred to by my mom's new boyfriend, as a hail mary. I get sent into a mental tailspin and try to use the upcoming art fight event as a distraction.

july 2024: I try. I get an interview but it doesn't pan out. mom finds an apartment to get waitlisted on, I'm expected to be the guy that owns it. I am just fully burnt out at this point and people are leaving me again because my stress and depression are boiling over and causing me to wallow in perpetual negativity and touch starvation. not sure what to do next. I write this post.

so uh, if you're wondering why I'm a mess, there you go

[ohwynne]

TIMING: Recent LOCATION: Where two roads meet in town PARTIES: Thea @notstinky and Wynne @ohwynne SUMMARY: Thea and Wynne crash their bikes into each other! Both are very stressed about it! Friendship is formed and Wynne learns about Glee. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Look out for the girl on the bike! Excuse me! I’m so sorry!” The air whipped through Thea’s hair, sending tendrils of black hair in every direction. She couldn’t see from in between the strands but prayed fast and wildly to any god that was both real and would listen to her. There was a fact about cheap bikes that she had forgotten: they were cheap. Prone to failure, her temp bike, meant for use while her beloved (accidentally stolen) green one was being repaired (after a similar incident to the one plaguing her today), had its brakes snap off. Literally, actually, and with a loud crunch, snap off. She was rushing downhill at a pace too fast to be safe. She had tried stopping with her feet only for her shoe to slip off and tumble up the street. Then she’d tried with the other one and gotten the same luck. So, she tried with her heel and instantly recoiled from the ripping pain that seared under her skin. Eventually, mathematically, and with sound reasoning to believe it, she would stop. She hoped she would.

“Look out! Shoeless girl on bike! Get off the sidewalk!” Thea yelled the best she could, but her voice was muffled by the wind and her hair flying into her mouth. Thea was what most people called a bore and what the rest called a nerd. She was the only adult who rode a bike around town in existence who actually wore a helmet (citations might have been needed for this fact but Thea certainly felt like she was the only one preoccupied with safety sometimes). This was because her dad told her to do it once upon a time and she had never forgotten. The most rebellious thing she’d done was forgo the knee and elbow pads. 

No one would ever laugh at her again for wearing a helmet. As Thea flew through the air, like a frisbee at a dog show waiting to be caught, her helmet saved her from getting some very unflattering grass in her hair. A victory, in her books. What wasn’t a victory was the scene: her bike crunched up, tire spinning in the air, and the thing she had crashed into. The person, with their own bike. “Oh my god,” Thea looked up. She’d bit her lip on the way down and scraped up her palms and knees; she was bleeding and it stung but wasn’t anything she couldn’t recover from. “Are you okay?” She asked the other party, wobbling up to her feet. 

—

A certain freedom came with having a bike. It was faster than walking, didn’t require Sully being available to carpool with them and was not as irregular as the bus. Wynne liked biking, even if it was more stressful in Wicked’s Rest than it had been back home. There, days that they’d gone biking had been few and far between, but they had happened. Their parents and brother and Wynne would take some food and cycle around the lake, have a nice meal and return home. It was one of the few ways they’d get away from the estate’s grounds and always something to look forward to.

But here, in town, there were cars and mopeds and all other kinds of things to be mindful of. Like other cyclists rushing down hills, in their direction. This was a bad combination: Wynne was lost in thought, head stuck on an annoying song that played constantly at work and mulling over what their brother might be up to and then there was the other, an object that would not be stopped. The crash brought them back to earth, in literal and physical sense: their body slammed against the concrete sideways, their bike stuck between their legs. They felt the bruise form on their knee already.

Their head spun for a moment the same way the wheel did, neither bike nor person moving forward. Wynne felt dazed, reached a hand up to their head (they got a vague look at their scraped palm and saw more blood when their fingers pulled back). “Ouch.” They pressed up, one leg still awkwardly stuck to the ground. “I – yeah.” They were in pain, and they weren’t sure what had happened, but they weren’t sure what other answer to give to that question. “Can you help with my bike? They wanted to sit, but the thing was stuck on and between them. “What happened?”

—

“Yes, yes, oh my god…” Thea scrambled to her victim’s sides The bike was stuck between their legs and it would take some twisting and lifting to pull it free. Thea hoped that with her help keeping the bike from crushing their legs, they could escape without further damage. She offered her hand out. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked again, she didn’t want to seem doubtful but she was staring at a bleeding palm to mirror her own scratched one. “Um, well, my brakes stopped working and then I couldn’t stop and I went right into you and…” Thea snapped her helmet off her head and threw it aside, surveying the other person and their bikes. Both of them were in need of repair. Thea really couldn’t afford her own bike repairs let alone someone else’s. “This is my fault,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” She swiped at the dibble of blood escaping the small cut under her lip. 

“I will pay for everything,” Thea offered quickly, before anything else could be said about it. “I mean it! I totally messed up here and I probably damaged your bike and also you, physically, and maybe even emotionally, but uh, okay….if you need therapy after this I don’t think I can afford that so maybe we can do yoga in the park? That’s free.” 

—

With the other’s hand now firmly in their grip, Wynne managed to push themself over the ground, from under the bike. Getting in a sitting position, they stared down at their jeans, at the hole on their knee and the blood slowly pooling underneath the ruined fabric. They weren’t scared of blood, weren’t scared of bleeding this little, but they still felt somewhat like crying. As if the smack on the road had scrambled their nervous system. “Yes, yes, I’m okay,” they said, pulling their leg closer to them. They had seen and felt worse than this. Wynne wasn’t going to sob over falling off their bike. Right? “It’s, no, I should have been paying more attention, you can’t help it if the brakes break. I was off in my own world, so —” They stopped staring at their bike and looked at the other. “It’s on both of us, right?” Wynne had never been very good at blaming others.

The other’s offer to pay for everything made Wynne realize that this damage had to be fixed and that included money. They hated this economy! Why couldn’t such favors be done in return for something else? They stared at their bike again, wondering if they were handy enough to fix it themself. (They were not.) “No, no, I couldn’t ask that of you,” they said, head shaking, watching the other’s bruised lip. This wasn’t some rude person who had hurt them on purpose “That’s not fair, okay? But maybe we can find a bike shop together, and maybe we should try and find some band-aids, right?” Since life had slowed down and Wynne didn’t feel like were constantly on the run, they didn’t carry everything a person could possibly need any more. “Are you okay? Your lip …”

—

Thea wasn’t sure of a lot of things: she didn’t entirely understand taxes and more than once she purchased yogurt thinking she could become the sort of person that ate yogurt and then the yogurt would go bad and she’d have to throw it out. She was sure, however, that most things were her fault: climate change (on account of all the wasted yogurt), world hunger (because of the yogurt again), and this bike accident (not because of the yogurt). Maybe this person was trying to appease her, trying to soothe the anxiety that often radiated from her like the electric buzz of an old light bulb. Maybe they were a kind person who didn’t deserve to be rammed into with a bike. Regardless, nothing worked to soothe Thea’s guilt for existing. Sorry, she wanted to say, if only she had decided to stay indoors and never go out anywhere and never do anything. Thea smiled softly, “that doesn’t change the fact that I’m the one at fault. If I hit a um…like a lamb or something…that’d totally be my fault. Not that you’re a lamb! I don’t mean that.” Thea shook her head violently, trying to reject her own awkward wording. “You’re more like a, uh, like a baby. Like what if I hit a baby? I mean, you’re not a baby—you look like a young adult—but what if I hit a baby?” The thought made her shudder. 

“Not asking,” Thea squeaked. “I’m giving! If you don’t take it I’m going to be haunted by this moment and it’s going to seriously decrease my quality of sleep.” Which already wasn’t very good and, in fact, this moment would still linger in her mind anyway. “Okay,” she mumbled, she reached down and picked up the stranger’s bike; hers was probably a lost cause. “Are you good to walk? I think there’s a shop just down the…” Thea paused, raising a hand up to her lips. Red blood painted the edges of her fingers as her eyes trailed down. “And your knee,” she winced. “Are you okay?” 

—

As the other stumbled over her words, Wynne blinked at them until looking back at their knee. The comparison to a lamb hit home and though there was no way the stranger could possibly know what kind of history they had with lambs and being compared to one, it still didn’t help their already frazzled state of mind. Again, they didn’t blame her: they just felt a little off because of it. “But you didn’t hit a lamb or a baby, you just hit me, and I’m okay. It’s a scratch, it will heal!” It would heal. This was nothing, this blood was nothing. They fought against their trembling lip. “And the bike is just a bike, right?” Material possessions were not the most important thing to Wynne, to whom life – and their continued presence in it – mattered most of all.

The other made it hard to reject her offer, if only because Wynne didn’t want to be responsible for ruining some else’s quality of sleep. That would seriously come to haunt them in return. “Oh. Oh, well, maybe we can see when we get to the shop, okay? It was an accident. And I wasn’t paying attention.” They needed to start paying attention. They watched the other pick up their bike and managed to push themself off the ground, despite really wanting to curl down there and just take a nap. Wynne watched the blood on the other’s face, and then the blood trickling down their leg now that gravity was more in play again. “Yes. A scratch. We will get a bandaid. And something cold for your lip. Okay? Should we get … your bike out of the road?” Just so not more people would get into accidents.

—

“But what if,” Thea argued, as if there was any real logic to it. It was always the what if’s that haunted her. What if she had hit a baby? What if she hit a baby and then the mother came out of the bushes and honked at her like the one time she got too close to a gosling (not the actor; she wished)? “The point isn’t that it heals…” Thea frowned. “It still happened. You still got hurt; that still matters and I still…” she swallowed. This person was being graceful, giving her the space to let it go. If she pushed, like putting something back into a box that was too small for it, she’d rip the edges of politeness. Thea squeezed the handlebars of the stranger’s bike. “Sorry, yeah…” She forced a smile. “You’ll heal up like it’s nothing; it’ll be okay.” But it wouldn’t, it wasn’t. The body fought to survive but the mind didn’t heal like a wound. If the stranger ever flinched the next time a bike approached too quickly, Thea would know the truth of the matter: it wouldn’t heal. Irrevocably, she has changed someone’s life for the worst. It might just have been a new instinct they gained, but wouldn’t it have been better if nothing happened at all? If Thea was better? Smarter? Kinder? Thea’s grip tightened until her knuckles turned white and her palms ached. “The bike is just a bike, yeah.”

“Huh? My bike?” Thea’s attention snapped to her mangled temporary bike— the cursed thing, the ruiner of days, the scrapper of knees. “Right, yeah.” She seethed; the damn thing and her damned stupidity. Thea set down the stranger’s bike gently, dragging hers off the street. Stupid. Horrible. Useless. Her muscles tightened and her nostrils flared. A small growl escaped her lips as she gripped her bike and spun, throwing it as far as she could. She watched it sail through the air, jaw aching and fingers twitching. As soon as the bike disappeared behind a line of bushes, her body relaxed with only a mild ache in the places a transformation threatened under her skin. “Yep!” She turned to the stranger with a cherry expression. “Let’s go now!” She picked up their bike again. “I’m Thea, by the way.” She held out her hand. “Normally I don’t crash into people.” 

—

What if was a very valid question and concern, in every situation ever imaginable. Wynne couldn’t begin to think of it though, evading the what-ifs in their life as if they were marked-off areas, afraid of getting too close to the truth with their doom-thoughts. (What if leaving the commune had killed everyone? What if they were coming for them? What if?) “It didn’t happen, though. It was just me. And I will be fine. It is okay.” Worse things had happened than a split knee. Wynne wanted to live in a world where this was the worst thing that had happened to them in this past year. Where a scratched knee was worth having a mental breakdown over. But they had learned a thing or two about composure back at home, where every faltered step could be taken as a sign of doubt or failure. “Please don’t worry too much, okay? I will worry if you do, and then we will never stop worrying. And I would like to not worry for a day.” They tried to smile. 

And then the other picked up her bike, as if it weighed nothing at all. Wynne didn’t fight to keep their mouth from falling open a little. There was a growl, and then a show of strength that they hadn’t sought after the other. Fair enough. Sometimes people were just very strong. Right? Their mouth remained somewhat agape, though, as they heard the bike crush a few bush branches. “Oh wow, Thea.” They were in awe, not afraid or put off — but just very much impressed. “Are you sure —” She had seemed very certain, actually, when she’d thrown the bike through the air. “I’m Wynne. I also don’t tend to get crashed into.” They shook her hand and gave another smile. “Good to meet ya.”

—

Telling Thea not to worry was a lot like telling a dog not to stare at a passing bunny. Maybe it was possible after some training and a lot of treats, but for right now, Thea was going to worry. She laughed nervously. “Yeah! Okay! No worrying!” Much like a dog would dream that night, paws twitching, imagining a world where they chased that bunny down, Thea would sleep imagining the countless worlds where Wynne was more seriously injured and one world where there was a test she had forgotten to study for, just because that one often haunted her despite its irrelevance. 

“I feel really sore,” Thea confessed, rubbing her arms. She expected her muscles to ache but it was more like her bones did. Seeing Wynne’s awe instantly embarrassed her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown it.” What if she hit someone? More worlds to dream about in the night. “It’s nice to meet you too!” She perked up, pushing Wynne’s bike down the sidewalk. “Do you ride around here often? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Um, but I do usually commute at weird hours. I’m not blessed with a Dolly Parton nine-to-five. Um, but I guess, like, in the song—um, and the movie—it was a shitty job anyway…” Thea laughed nervously again. In the disjointed year of travel and monthly carnage, she felt like she’d forgotten how conversations went. “Do you–uh–like Dolly Parton?”

—

Asking someone not to worry was an impossible request, Wynne knew that distantly, and still they had meant it fully. They didn’t want to cause worry in others, not the concern-type but not this kind, either. This sort of distress. As the other laughed nervously and exclaimed that she wouldn’t worry, they doubted if that was true, but they also weren’t sure what they could do. Wynne would go over this interaction themself, reevaluate their response and their own faults. Maybe that was human existence. “I’m sorry you feel sore. Maybe the shop has something for the pain too?”

They smiled at the returned sentiment, glad to have something to hold onto in this confusing interaction. A swap of names, a nice to meet you, nice to meet you too. Some customs didn’t die, even when bikes crashed into each other. “Oh, yes, when I go to or from my work. I don’t always bike, though, sometimes a friend gives me a ride. I …” They frown. “Don’t know what a Dolly Parton is, but I do work regular hours. Sometimes earlier, though, like from six-to-three? Or until late. I work at a Latte to Love!” Maybe that was a detail best omitted when meeting strangers, but Wynne didn’t think Thea was that bad. Maybe a bit frazzled, but so were they. “Sorry to hear your job is shitty. What do you do?”

—

Thea shook her head; she wasn’t sure if bike shops offered anything for pain but even if they did, her pain wasn’t the sort that could be solved with an Advil. “I’m alright.” She swallowed. “I’ll be alright.” If she said it enough times, it made it true. As evidenced by her daily morning mantra: I am normal and not stinky. Both things were totally true. “You don’t know who Dolly Parton is?” Thea froze, just a few steps from the fated bike shop. “You don’t…” She tried to make it make sense. Maybe she was being gatekeepy—never mind that Dolly Parton was a country legend, maybe Wynne also didn’t know Patsy Cline, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, etc. etc. Maybe country music just wasn't for them; it wasn’t for most people. Thea had a broad music taste, which was a kinder way of saying she had no standards. But even if you didn’t like country music, you knew Dolly Parton. Everyone knew Dolly Parton. “Jolene, Jolene, I’m beggin’ of you please don’t take my man.” She stared at them, signing off-key. “Please don’t take him just because you can.” 

Thea threw her hands up into the air, letting the bike fall before she frantically caught it again. “It’s Dolly!” she exclaimed. “Dolly! She’s got big boobs! Blonde hair? Everyone loves Dolly. I mean, maybe she’s secretly evil—I heard Jenna Ortega spits in peoples’ coffee…” Thea held up her hand. “Don’t ask; it’s a long story. I’m working on bringing the spit mafia down. It all starts with Casey. Anyway, don’t ask.” She sucked in a breath. “But Dolly? The Dolly Parton? Are you going to say you don’t know Led Zeppelin or Fleetwood Mac or Paramore?” Despite the venerated status of both Led Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac, Thea would’ve been more offended if Wynne didn’t know Paramore, which was venerated in her heart. “Dolly Part—Oh sorry, I work as a janitor, hence the shitty, and I love a Latte to Love, great coffee.” She blinked. “Dolly Parton!” 

—

They blinked at the other as she went on and on about Dolly, who Wynne was apparently seriously supposed to know. They vowed to themself to remember the name, so they could look this blonde, big-breasted woman up and listen to these songs. For now, though, their face just flushed and something trembled inside them out of embarrassment. It was all a little much! Falling off their bike, their bike being damaged, their body hurting and now, once more, falling short when it came to pop culture. “I don’t know her, I don’t … I know a blonde woman with big breasts, but she’s called Winifred, and I don’t think she makes music.” Winifred was a woman from back home, so she was definitely not the same person. “And I don’t know that song, nor Jenna Ortega, but that’s really rude! I never spit in people’s coffee and I make a lot of coffees for a lot of people. I also don’t know a Casey?” 

But Thea mentioned something that they did know, so they decided to latch onto that. “I know Fleetwood Mac! With Stevie Nicks? Of that song, Silver Springs.” Ariadne had told them all about it, playing the song for them and then a video of it too. Wynne had thought it very powerful. “I love their song ‘You make loving fun’.” That one reminded them of Ariadne most, whereas Landslide made them indescribably sad. They felt less inclined to cry now that they had something to say about something they knew. That they didn’t know those other bands (or artists?) was omitted. “I will look up Dolly! Okay? I just don’t know a lot of music.” They frowned. “Because I’m Amish. Or well, was Amish. Now I’m a barista.”

—

Thea felt stupid again, she was feeling that a lot around Wynne. Of course it was stupid to insult someone for not knowing who Dolly Parton was when they were Amish. That was like growing up in a cult, or something (Thea didn’t know, she didn’t know much about the Amish except for what existed in Weird Al’s “Amish Paradise”). Although, a part of her mind did consider that even the Amish would know who Dolly Parton was. “I’m so sorry,” she squeaked, her cheeks bursting with crimson. “Y-you know Fleetwood Mac?” But not Dolly Parton? Thea pushed the doors of the bike shop open and ushered them inside, pulling the back along with them. “Silver Springs is kinda deep cut--well, not that deep, but usually people bring up ‘Songbird’ or ‘Landslide’ or ‘Dreams’ or something.” Thea considered what sort of person would know only of Fleetwood Mac and nothing else. At least it was a good band to know about. “‘You Make Loving Fun’?” Thea blinked. Something was going on here, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “My favorite is ‘Rhiannon’--it makes me feel like the cool girl monologue in Gone Girl. You know, Santana Lopez sang ‘Songbird’ on Glee and…” Thea trailed off, clearing her throat. “Actually, it’s probably better if you never learn what Glee is.” 

Thea leaned Wynne’s mangled bike up against the counter. “I’m sorry about the--the Dolly thing.” Thea stuck her hand out again. “Friends?” She smiled. “No hard, Amish feelings? I think you’re really cool and--” I need more friends. “--I’d like to be your friend. So, friends?”

—

“No, it’s okay! You couldn’t know! I don’t look Amish.” Because they weren’t Amish. Some of their dresses did look similar to the ones they’d worn at home, though, but they’d never worn those white caps. Those looked strange. “Silver Springs is my girlfriend’s favorite song. But I love those others as well. Landslide is very sad, though, right?” Wynne smiled at the mention of Rhiannon. “I love that one also! It’s about a Welsh witch. I’m also –” They stopped themself, there. The Amish weren’t Welsh, right? “Um, really fond of Songbird. I don’t know what Gone Girl is? Is it a movie?” Another thing to Google. Just like Glee. “Oh. Is Glee not good? Even if there’s Fleetwood Mac on it?” They’d have to ask Ariadne about that one too. 

Wynne shook their head again. “It’s okay! Really. No hard feelings, Amish or otherwise. And I think you’re very cool too.” They shook the other’s hand. “Friends.”

[tigers-eyes-26]

Just two good Italian boys

Just two good Italian boys. Twins. Mario the older by about 5 minutes. Their mother and father worked in a traveling circus in Italy. From a young age they were taught to do somersaults and aerials. Luigi was a little more reluctant than Mario but they both learned. One of the first acts they were apart was to chase and jump after the monkey who had stolen a key. Eventually they became part of all of the acts. The boys considered all the circus performers as a part of their family. They absorbed every and all learning that was available to them.

Even though their parents had started their life out in the circus they wanted something better for their boys. They scraped and saved enough money to move to Brooklyn New York. Their father started out at as handy man. Their mother eventually owned a restaurant. Both boys where good with their hands. They had built their own bikes to get to and from school. Frequently they would race around in the dirt of new construction sites. They also became pretty good at standing up for themselves and those in their communities. Bullies, purse snatchers, peeping-toms and small-time robbers didn’t stand a chance against the boys’ skills.

They would work any and all odd jobs. Mario was even helping out the local pharmacy deliver prescriptions, that is where Mario got the nickname of Dr. Mario. The old ladies at the retirement home would pinch the cheeks of the little Dr. Mario as he walked in with a bag full of their needed medicines.

As any good boys would they helped their parents with their respective business. Luigi enjoyed spending time cooking with his mother in the back as Mario chatted up the customers he was serving in the front.

As their teen years continued on, they found themselves taking over more and more for their father as he got weaker and weaker from the daily cigars he smoked. They swore to each other to never touch the stuff. They didn’t want to be wheezing like Pa one day.

Being handymen was good for them. They liked to work with their hand, they loved their community, and the feeling of helping others out was the best.  

Mario’s favorite customer was Pauline. She moved to the city to try and become a big show band singer. She had scrapped up enough money to buy the most broken-down apartment that there was. She didn’t trust the landlord to fix anything and always called the brothers in to help.

One day the Ape at the Brooklyn Zoo escaped. It made its way to Pauline’s apartment just as Mario was fixing a leaky pipe. He turned around to flash a smile at her only to be met with her screams. He jumped out of the window and into action.

Mario saved Pauline and instantly became a hero of the newspapers. Their Papa used the good publicity to his advantage. Their handy man company changed from The Saltatore brothers to The Mario Brothers. Luigi protested “People are going to start to think our last name is Mario!” He had been called to fix a car when kidnapping happened and had missed out on the adventure. “Mario Mario what a sham! Can you imagine my name? Luigi Mario?!” 

Little did everyone know there was strange things a foot. How did the Ape Escape? The zoo keepers named the ape Donkey Kong because he was as dumb as an donkey. As the Ape was eating things absentminded like, he bit into a red mushroom. It caused him to grow just enough to break the bars of his cage. Where did that red mushroom come from? After the tussle with Mario, Donkey Kong was put back into the zoo. Many people came to see the Ape that had caused such a commotion in the community. He disappeared again after a month. The tabloids went berserk. NO Ape! Ape and son gone! Zoo baffled! Ape to go after Mario? Apes revenge! There was a search for Donkey Kong but he was nowhere to be found. Where did he go?

The Strangeness continued. As one day The Mario Brothers got a call to fix something in a small corner shop, they had never heard of……

******

“Super Games?” Luigi Read the sign. Mario shrugged in response.

The inside there was many objects with eyes and mouths painted on them. It was the oddest place they had seen and that was saying something considering they grew up in a circus and lived in Brooklyn.

There were heavy things like ball and chain and bombs and Giant bullets. Animals like turtles, raccoons, squirrels, fish, and squids. Plants like Venus fly traps, cacti, and mushrooms. There was paintings of clouds and rainbows and hills.

Luigi got a cold shiver up his spine. “Hello?” Mario called out.

 Japanese man about their age popped up from under the front counter. His hair was shaggy and parted in the middle. He had a blazer over a graphic tee and jeans. “Come! Come!” he beckoned them to the back of the store. He had a huge grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. Luigi reached out to tell Mario about his weird feelings, but Mario was already heading to the back. He sighed and followed suit.

The walk took some time considering the man had to move many of his strange wares. He mumbled to himself in Japanese.

“Sooo… you Mr. Miyamoto?” Mario scratched at his elbow trying to not stare at all the things.

The man smiled turned sharply and grinned even wider. “Yes” he pointed to Mario. “Hero Mario!”

Mario blushed a little he didn’t really like the hero title.

Miyamoto pointed to Luigi who was staying relatively farther back. “Hero Luigi!”

Luigi brightened a little. Surprised that this man even knew his name. “Oh… I.. well… I didn’t.” Luigi stammered.

“Here!” Miyamoto scooted a box over revealing a door on the wall. He took out a shiny skeleton key from his pocket and unlocked the door. “Go in! go in!” It was a room alright and it was tiled like a bathroom, but there wasn’t a sink or a toilet. There was a big green thing in the middle of the room, maybe it could be a bathtub. Did this man want them to remodel the whole bathroom? They could do it, but it would take some time. Miyamoto excitedly shoved the twins closer to the green thing. “Pipe!” This was a pipe?!? It wasn’t like any pipe they had seen. They looked down at the pipe. It looked like it went to the center of the earth.

Before the twins could turn around to ask what this monstrosity of a hole was, they were shoved into the pipe. Their stomachs lurched into their throats. Luigi felt like fainting. Mario tried to claw at the smooth surface of the pipe. They fell for was seemed like an eternity without seeing the end of the pipe. Finally, they saw sunshine at the end of the pipe. Had they fallen through the earth?

Their pipe appeared at the bottom of some clouds over a green grassy field. With a thud the brothers landed in a heap on the ground. Falling from that height should have killed them but it didn’t. Mario sat up first. He scanned the huge field they where in.

“Ma….Mario??? Are…. Are we… D…dead?”

“Non lo so….” Mario turned around to look for anything that would help them. Some miles away was a little town with a red and white castle on a hill behind it.

Mario stood up and dusted himself off. “Lets see if we can get some help.” He offered his hand to his younger brother. Luigi nodded and excepted his hand. They walked toward the castle together. Little did the men know that this was the beginnings of their new life in the strange land…..

*****

The Super Game store closed, and the owner left like he never existed. The search went on for years for the boys. Their father eventually succumb to his vices and their heart broken mother went back to Italy to live with a distant cousin. Pauline never gave up the search even though her family begged her to just let it go. She too vanished without a trace. The community murmured about it all. Maybe it was the Mafia? A Serial Killer? The mystery of it all turned them into a urban legend. People would continue to speak of the Two Good Italian Boys that had lifted the community and then disappeared never to be seen again.

_______________________

Author Notes:

This is my own headcannon, or AU? I wrote this 2 years ago. It was rough, I fixed it up a little. I decided I would post this before the Mario movie came. It is to explain a little why Mario and Luigi is so good at jumping, flips and fighting.

To get their last name I just typed Jumpman into google translate. Saltatore. If any of the Italian is wrong please correct me.

[zeze-tv]

here’s a bit of a long draft for the first chapter of my book.

Five years ago. Before the world as we know it almost got turned upside down. I was taken. You probably have a lot of questions. Are you getting bored? Regretting listening to me? I guess I understand. “Who are you talking to?” A voice comes behind me. I glance to see Ezra behind me. “Survivors” I say. “Probably not many left” Ezra responds. I guess I should explain how we got here. Years ago back in 2027 when I was 14, an alien invasion arrived and people were taken left and right. We heard about it on the news everyday.  Only person you can wholeheartedly trust is God. He’s the reason I’m a survivor. The aliens wanted to take humans because our government was keeping some aliens captive to experiment on. They were killing them, treating them like lab rats. I was scared for my younger siblings, less than a year apart and loved to stay outside. My sister and I are 5 years apart. My brother and I are 6. My heart pounded whenever I saw my younger brother and sister playing outside, their laughter echoed through the backyard. I kept looking up, half-expecting to see a shadow descending from the sky. Every time I saw a plane fly over the house, I felt goosebumps on my skin, and I’d find myself calling them back inside, just to be sure they were safe.

 I remember the day I went missing clearly, I bicycled through the field. Trying to escape my parents, who wanted to give themselves up as a sacrifice for me to live. I hated them for it back then. I used to catch my parents whispering when they would drop me off, casting worried glances in my direction, anger would boil inside me. Why were they so ready to throw their lives away? Living is the most valuable thing God gifted us. I’d tune them out with the TV. Trying to zone out the frustration and confusion I couldn't put into words. Didn’t understand why. I was a kid. I suppose I still am. The bike wobbled beneath me, the handlebars jerking in my shaky grip. I never learned how to ride a bike, so it wasn’t much of a surprise after a few minutes I fell off. Tumbling through the grass. I laid there for 17 seconds.  No more, no less, 17 seconds. Those 17 seconds changed my life. If I had got up, if I had run, I can’t help but wonder if I wouldn’t have been taken. Next thing I knew I saw a UFO landing above me. It first took my bike. Then as I started to float through the air, some technological hand grabbed me. I looked back to see my parents crying and running towards me. Then I arrived in an all white room. With an oxygen tank and a bed.

My footsteps echoed in the silent emptiness when I entered the room, I sank onto the bed, its rough, cold surface was different from the warm, familiar comfort of home. The hum of the oxygen tank was the only sound, a constant reminder of my isolation. I lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the unchanging ceiling. I lived there for a while. They fed us. I closed my eyes to go to sleep but I couldn’t. Sleep eluded me, replaced by an anxious restlessness that gnawed at my insides. I realized that this new reality had stolen not just my home, but my peace of mind. I gained insomnia that night. After being there for so long you noticed a cycle we would circle around Neptune to Jupiter and everything in between.  And after what felt like 18 months is when everything changed. 

I finally opened my eyes to see the lights still off. After being here so long the schedule got easier. I would grab a white jumpsuit, take a shower, tie my hair into a ponytail and wait for the lights to come on so I could take these pills which was basically Breakfast for us. My hair was the hardest part, with no jel it was so hard to slick back my type 4 hair. While I wait I usually look at the paintings on the walls. The aliens tried to add color after 26 people went insane for only seeing white for days. They let us be more free. We have talking times so we don’t go insane from talking to no one. I try to talk to others but I don’t really need to. I pray. Bzzzzzz. The lights make a buzzing sound when they first turn on. I still have to wait for a while before I can leave, others are just now waking. Then my door swings open and we get into lines. Anyone who isn’t in these lines before the red lights turn on will get in trouble. Sometimes the aliens think we’re trying to escape. I wait to get to the front and hear more screams than usual. More people are disobeying. I finally get to the front and see the problem. The pills aren’t only white. There’s also a bottle with many different colors. The sign above them shows drawings telling us to only choose one from the bottle and put the bottle on our sinks. I comply. I take the white pill and walk back to my room. I empty the bottle. There’s blue, yellow, black, red, green, purple, an orange striped one. Purple’s my favorite color so I picked it. I put the rest on the sink and left to go to talking time. After that the day went by normally, I went to sleep and had a dream.

[person-with-a-terrible-username]

Hi there! If you're here, then I linked you to this big ass wall of text cuz I wanted to explain my OCs to you. If you just randomly found this, cool! Feel free to read. (Sorry I don't know how to add read more)

Okay, first an introduction to the setting: imagine a huge city, hidden from the rest of the world,

a vast amount of people from all over the planet, either brought here by curiosity or lured by the idea of a better life, are stuck in a giant struggle to survive under the harsh control of the Cavalanti mafia, a crime family so powerful they now control the government.

Fed up and sick of the lives they have to live, a large handful of this city's population have ganged up to form revolutionary gangs dedicated to taking the Cavalantis down and ruling the city.

This, is New Corritan. The Hidden City.

Our story revolves around one such gang of revolutionaries, a group of odd and strange individuals that started as nothing more than a weird group of friends.

These people are known...

as the HYSTMEN GANG

The story of how these high school pals became a deadly gang started with the story of the faceless pyromaniac, one whose original name was never known, only ever going by the name of his most prominent feature....

Helmet.

Helmet didn't live a life one would call fancy, but it was perfect to him. He lived with his mom, dad, and older brother in New Corritan's suburban district, his mother and father worked on cars for a living, and his brother was the star of his school's beatball (a New Corritan sport) team, all while Helmet rode around on his bike delivering papers.

But nobody lives a peaceful life in New Corritan.

One day, both mother and father came home from work beaten badly, barely able to stand. They told a story of how a Cavalanti gangster came in to have his car repaired on short notice.

Now, the parents were good mechanics, but finding the replacement parts for such a fancy car was above their pay grade, and there ain't a lot they could do about bullet holes either.

So the mobster did what any Cavalanti does to those that don't listen. Unspeakable things were done to each parent, while the other watched.

Enraged beyond belief, Helmet's once tender hearted brother turned to violence.

After tracking the nightclub the mobster owned, the brother and Helmet himself went out to seek an apology...in blood.

A rage never felt before surged through the two brothers that night.

Heads were bashed with borrowed tools, bullets were fired, people were killed, hell. Even money was stolen.

But in the end, the brothers got what they came for.

That night, Helmet's brother helped find a good hiding spot for the money and laid his parents and little brother to rest.

But Helmet woke up early that night...to the smell of smoke.

Fire engulfed the house, screams could be heard, but there was nothing he could do except instinctively put his helmet on. Nowhere to go...except out the window.

Helmet crashed onto the grass and watched his entire life turn to ashes. His family turn into fading screams. His thoughts turn to....where the sound of laughter was coming from.

He saw them, men in Cavalanti colors. Chucking molotovs and laughing...he recognized one of them. He recognized his hair, his beat up bloody suit, but most of all...

He recognized his shitty, beat-up car.

Rage took the wheel.

He didn't care that his only weapon was a welding torch.

He didn't care it was a 3 v 1.

He didn't care what would happen.

He didn't care how he was gonna kill them

He didn't care how painful it was going to be.

After all, that man didn't care either.

By the time Helmet had control of his senses, there were three smoldering, melting bodies at his feet. One still screaming.

The house was just ash now. Same with whatever was left. But before he heard sirens in the distance, Helmet had something he wanted to do.

Still squirming and begging for death, the man who started it all was laid against his front door, along with his colleagues. Using the rest of what the mobsters brought to burn the house and a camera that the jackass brought, he set them aflame and took a picture.

...

It was told that Helmet still roams the city now, mercilessly killing any group of Cavalanti gangsters he finds, burning down their establishments and taking pictures of their charred corpses.

That was, until someone decided to make him part of their plan, a plan that Helmet was immediately sold on.

Now, he prowls the city in search, not for enemies...

But for old friends.

[minjixficrecs]

JJ Maybank fic recs ೄྀ࿐

You Are Ok - JJ Maybank by @collecting-stories

Summary: JJ begins a relationship with the reader, a pastor’s daughter from a fundamentalist church who feels disillusioned by her family, and introduces her to his Outer Banks. When forces outside their control try to pull them apart they’re faced with deciding if this feeling is fleeting or if it’s forever. : ̗̀➛ their masterlist I & II

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Heck’s Masterlist by @thegreatestofheck

̗̀➛ their whole masterlist is *chefs kiss*

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Bend the Rules // JJ Maybank by @obxsummer

summary: being a kook isn’t as nice as it seems and jj’s tired of watching you crumble every morning at the words of your parents. enough is enough in his book, and he’s determined to get you away from that life if it’s the last thing he does.

➛ just check out their fics, you won't regret it ♡

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

SECRETS by @maybank-starkey-obx

Synopsis: (Y/N) is being abused by her dad at home, and John B finds out and let’s her stay with him. Keeping her secret for her and being the only pogue who knows about the abuse. JJ gets jealous and wonders what is going on between you two… but you would rather not tell anyone. : ̗̀➛ this had me in my feels

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Collateral by @hellimagines

Summary: JJ’s stunt with Barry bites him in the ass when the angry drug dealer kidnaps you and decides you’re JJ’s collateral for the stolen money.

̗̀➛ THIS FIC HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Steamy Jokes & Bloody Thieves by @kaynothanks

̗̀➛go read this underrated fic or else...

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

ribs by @wheres-mylove

Summary: Everything that they had from those carefree times was not enough to keep them together. JJ is desperately trying to run away from the past and does not see that he is destroying the future at the same time. On the other hand, (Y/N) has to stop reminiscing about what it used to be. In order to move forward. Alone.

̗̀➛ can proudly recite this fic all day

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Eyes Blue Like the Atlantic by @obx-snippets

Summary: Y/n and JJ have been going strong for over a year but their bond is tested when she gets roped into something that turns into a dangerous situation fast

̗̀➛ *chefs kiss*︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

One Last Sunset by @princessmisery666

Summary: JJ’s so focused on what he doesn’t have he can’t see what’s right in front of him. You spend a whole summer trying to show him but it takes more than surf lessons for him to see that stupid things have good outcomes all the time.

̗̀➛ hella underrated ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ wake by @obxsummer

after jj wakes up in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean, it's clear to the pogues that one person isn't on board with them: you

̗̀➛ this fic will always be a fave

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

succumb by @imaginemegood

summary: something siminlar the scene where sarah is dying on the table and john b is doing cpr and crying thinking she’s dead in the show but with JJ and the reader where it’s the reader almost dying

̗̀➛ never knew i needed this fic until i read it.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

can’t kill a pogue by @jjs-bitch

SUMMARY: turns out being stranded on an island with jj maybank isn’t the worst thing in the world…

̗̀➛ another underrated writer...

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Paradise on earth series by @xreaderbooks

Summary: Y/N Routledge was just an ordinary girl from the wrong side of the island in North Carolina, school is out and a summer full of keggers, surfing, and denying feelings for her brother's best friend awaits her. That is until her older brother John B and her friends find clues to a treasure her and John B's dad spent his entire life searching for.

̗̀➛ this will easily distract you from the real world. fuck priorities :)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Crashed my bike by /innlove (couldn't at their blog for some reason)

summary: how Y/N meets the pogues after moving to the outer banks. 

̗̀➛ you will not regret reading this.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 by @illic1tdreams

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : jj uses you as a bet for money

̗̀➛ hits you in the feels

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Love in the First Degree by @the-maidofgevaudan

summary: JJ is taken with your extensive criminal law knowledge...

̗̀➛ actually fell in love with this omg

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You try to smile it away (Reader x JJ Maybank) by @frost-queen

summary: reader is in a similar home situation as JJ

̗̀➛ had me clench my buttcheeks from the anxiety lol

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Diver Down - JJ Maybank by @in-my-feels-probably

summary: diver down

̗̀➛ obsessed with this oml

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

I’m Not Listening - JJ Maybank by @overly-b part II

summary: hard of hearing reader

̗̀➛ ugh could sell my soul to read for a first time again :(

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

*•.¸♡ perpetual booms ♡¸.•* by @pogueswrld

summary: moving out of New York seemed to be a good idea to y/n's parents, thinking that moving to a small island was much better and safer after the incident. She was proven wrong anyway.

̗̀➛ respectfully, this is criminally underrated

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Dumbasses by @xoxoavenger

summary: JJ and Y/N get handcuffed together, forcing them to work as a team in order to get out of trouble.

̗̀➛ also underrated

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

will update!

[calcifersfireplaceonao3]

Second Chances WIP

This is a bit of the new long-fic I'm working on for Cleon. Meet-cute fluff before shit gets weird and angsty. An AU without zombies, nothing goes wrong that night they both first go to Raccoon City, they meet and fall in love like regular people.

Rating/tags: General, fluff, first kiss

-

“Why didn’t you bring your bike?” He asks, with clear disapproval on the word bike.

“It’s healthy to walk,” she laughs, “besides, gas is going up and I am just a college student. Sometimes I wait tables with my roommate at her job when they’re busy but it doesn’t pay all that great.” 

“In that case,” he hesitates, “Can I walk you home?”

“Sure, it’s the opposite way from your place though.”

“I don’t mind. It’s healthy to walk.” He shares her smile and it looks good on him.

With a speed that only southern summer rain can, the clouds gather and they have to accept that they’re about to get soaked. Debating on making a run for it, Claire laughs, opening up her arms, “well, regretting your offer now?”

Leon’s expression seems for all the world like a plane could drop down to the ground next to him and he wouldn’t notice, the way he’s looking at her, she could be the only person on the planet and it makes her breath catch in her chest. Then the first droplets of rain hit him and he blinks, shaking his head with a grin and Claire gleefully notes how red his face gets as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“No, I don’t mind a little rain.” 

A little turns into quite a lot actually and they’re both near soaked by the time Chris’ house is in sight. “Oh, Chris is home.” Claire notes curiously, “the search and rescue must have gone well.”

Leon walks her up the steps, making sure she gets in alright and he’s got such good manners it makes her smile, if her mom could have met him, yeesh- she’d be planning their wedding already. 

“How… how do you seem so familiar?” Leon asks suddenly, an easy smile giving way to something more intense, shaking his head. “It’s like every time I see you I feel like I’m remembering you more and more.”

Claire feels it too, like she’s been looking to get him to laugh a particular way, predicting his expressions seconds before they cross his face. 

He looks uncomfortable, “Sorry, that was such a corny thing to say.”

“No, me too.” She reassures, “like we used to be friends or something. But I’m pretty sure I’d remember you.” Leon cracks a smile when she winks at him again.

“I was going to do this earlier before you asked me out,” he turns bright red but she shushes him, “here. My number. I have a roommate, so if someone else answers don’t freak out.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, stowing the napkin she’d stolen when he wasn’t looking safely into his wallet. He leans forward and she’s holding her breath, trying not to lean in as well to get closer-

He shakes his head once, light hair falling into his eyes as he looks up at her with the perfect delicious blend of sweet shyness and wanting. She wants to eat him alive. Losing his nerve he smiles ruefully and takes a step back down the narrow staircase.

“Goodnight, Claire.” And she can’t help but feel disappointment even though it doesn’t feel like he’s trying to run from her. She waves, watching him go, deciding whether or not to call out to him before he stops halfway down the steps, shoulders tense. She thinks she might hear him say something like “Screw it” as he turns and bounds up the steps back to her. 

Startled, she laughs- nervous, happy giggles bubbling up as he holds her face gently in his hands and looks at her so seriously, “Claire, can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.”

For all his shyness and how unsure he seemed- Hell. She doesn’t give a damn about the rain, or her brother just behind the door she’s now leaning on, needing something to hold her up; this boy is something else. She should feel trapped with her back pressed to the wooden frame, with his hands still cradling her face but his lips on hers are soft and gentle. His thin shirt is twisted into her fingers as she pulls him closer and he doesn’t resist, letting her crush them closer together. Unable to help herself, Claire smiles, laughing when he pulls away, resting his forehead on hers.

“What?” He whispers and Claire closes her eyes to try and cement the memory of his hand sliding through her hair and pulling free the elastic, the way whatever detergent he uses mixes with the smell of rain.

Opening her eyes she realizes Leon is hesitating, worried, “Nothing, just glad you did that.” Claire catches him by surprise before he can answer, rocking up onto her toes and he wraps his arms around her to pull her close, gasping into her mouth-

Warm air rushes suddenly against her back and she loses her balance, held up now only by Leon’s arms. He immediately sets her down and steps back, clearing his throat as Chris glares exasperated from the now open doorway. Chris shakes his head, mouth in a taut line,

“Jesus Christ, really?” 

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Reaper and the Death Angel Part 3

I really just wanted to focus on Jax and the reader this chapter. I'm learning my county's sign language but ASL will be featured occasional from now on, as someone who wants to work with at risk children, I think that sign should be totally normal and a part of everyday life.

Part 2

Series Masterlist

Warning: It's getting into it now, brief mentions of a mass grave and the gemstone industry. If I miss any, please let me know.

2.7K Words

Comment if you want to be tagged in this series.

First meetings and first troubles.

The front door was open when he pulled into the driveway but he couldn't see you, he was about to get off and come in when you walked out.

He felt as if his breath had been stolen from his chest, then suddenly, he couldn't hear the birds singing or the roar of other bikes. His whole world shrunk down to just you, standing on your front lawn.

At that moment, Jax could swear there was a god.

His legs operated without his say, it was as if you were pulling him in like a siren, daring him to dash himself on the rocks. The other guys were there, he just didn't see them.

"Hello Darlin", you offed him a reserved smile and put your hand out for him to shake.

"Mr Teller?" Your handshake was firm, he felt like he was floundering, he was second-guessing every move he made.

"You are quite the charmer, aren't you?" Your face was impassive, he couldn't tell whether you were flirting with him or insulting him. He knew he felt exposed, your eyes raked over his figure like a scientist dissecting an alien, he saw no desire in your face.

He was utterly lost.

"Excuse me Mr Teller, I have to say hello to everyone." you never offered anything, he always prided himself on being able to read most women like an open book, but you were a mystery and he had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to let it go until he figured you out.

You signed to your Brother.

"Is anyone hearing impaired?" He shook his head.

At least you didn't have to speak and sign simultaneously.

"Hello all, welcome to our home. I asked my Brother not to rope anyone into unpaid labour but it's clear he can't help himself. I am grateful for your help, although the only things I need to be unpacked are all my books. You are more than welcome to explore the grounds and the house, as long as the door isn't locked, please make yourself at home."

"Mr Teller, would you like to help me unpack my books?" You chose to ignore the looks he was getting.

"Please Darlin, call me Jax." you smiled at him but it wasn't big enough for him to learn anything.

"Ok Jax, thank you."

You had taken the time to take them all in, it was clear they were on their best behaviour. Your Brother had already given you any information on their personality that you needed, you had a feeling you would have favourites way the end of the day.

"Are you always this proper?" Sam was right, you already didn't like Tragger.

"Of course, I don't know any of you. Why would I be familiar?" your tone became more pointed.

"Just a few things before you guys head in. Do not wear shoes in my home, if I catch you wearing shoes, I will make you wash my floorboards. If you smoke tobacco in my home, you will never be welcome inside again, this is not a comfort issue this is a health concern." Everyone seemed to accept that.

"If you wish to smoke, there is an ashtray by the back door, I ask that you please go to the back of the property, you will see a covered stone bench where you can sit down. If I ever find any cigarette butts I will take them and test them for DNA and you will never be allowed on the property again, this is classed as a nature reserve and I can not have our precious native animals consuming litter." Your intention was to seem harsh and overbearing, you had no idea if you could trust these please to do what you asked.

"I agree with my Sister, so don't come crying to me if you don't listen and she follows through." You looked around and saw a lot of stunned faces.

Good, I have the upper hand.

"Any questions?" No one spoke up, you hoped you had made yourself clear.

You waved your hand at Jax to direct him to the moving truck.

He was pretty sure he was in love.

"Everything is labelled well, the boxes and the bookshelves are colour coded. Books at the top of the box go on the top shelves and so on. I'm more than happy to help you anytime you need, but I'll be in the room unpacking myself so you won't have far to go to ask."

You spoke at an even pace, maybe a little fast but Jax appreciated the added detail. He was struck by the darkness of your eyes, it was like staring into a black night sky.

"Ok?" you were looking at him with concern, he realised that he had been staring at you slack-jawed for God knows how long.

"Yeah sorry, I'm not really a morning person." he got a sympathetic smile, it made his chest feel warm.

"Honestly neither am I. I don't feel like an actual human till at least ten, and that's after like six coffees." Jax could see a bit of your personality now, he liked what he saw.

You directed him to what boxes to lift and then how to stack them so you wouldn't have to make too many trips from the door to your library. He watched your face intently and didn't miss the microscopic look of fascination on your face when you watched him lift heavy box after heavy box. But again, he didn't see desire, he felt like you were trying to get a look at his insides through his skin. It wasn't unpleasant or uncomfortable, he just felt very exposed. If he had to guess, he would say you weren't even fully aware of it.

The library was beautiful. It was two stories with a railing where the ground floor ceiling would have been. The bookshelves were white, and unlike what he had seen of the rest of the house, it was carpet rather than wood.

There was a massive floor to ceiling bay window looking out into the grove of trees on the property. There was a lounge and a chair in the centre of the room, and cases filled with what looked like rocks and very old books in the open spaces. He didn't miss the deep breath you took when you walked in, he could already detect the telltale smell of old paper and glue.

"What made you ask Sam to prospect?"

Wow, you didn't bother with small talk.

"I don't know, I liked him and thought he would be a good fit." Jax was reminded of your frankness over the phone and thought he would treat you with the same respect.

"Actually, he almost sent a guy to the ER after he tried to attack my Mother so we kind of had to ask him." You giggled behind your hand.

Oh, he liked that sound.

"Sorry, I shouldn't laugh. Samual can be prone to unnecessary violence in those circumstances." The ting of your phone pulled you away. He could see the excitement coming over you.

"I'm sorry, that's William. He's come to drop off my dogs." you were rushing out the door before he could respond.

He followed you to your driveway, he watched you give Billy a quick hug before fussing over the two medium-sized Pitbulls that were wagging their butts with excitement.

What a smile.

Jax almost felt bad just watching you, like he was seeing something that wasn't meant for him, at least not yet. Happy was moving from foot to foot when you called him over. He watched you introduce him to your dogs, he could see that you were delighted by Happy's interest in them.

"Sorry about that Jax, it's only been a few days since I've seen them but it feels like forever. If it's ok with you we can head back upstairs and keep packing?"

You didn't even need to ask.

****

The library has been set up by the mid-afternoon, you and Jax got along great. He would ask questions about all the books he was unpacking and then his attention drifted to the display cabinet in the middle of the room.

"What are all these?" It was so strange, the tingle of excitement was gone and you were back to being cool and impassive.

"Rocks and minerals, I've spent a lot of time right next to gem mines and the locals are always very grateful for the work we do so they give us things to take home." Jax wondered why you closed up so quickly.

"What did you do in all these places?" You paused from unpacking and looked over at him.

"Nothing fun, with gemstones often comes civil war and death. When jewellery companies buy these bits of land, they want to come across as caring about the country so if they find a mass grave, they hire people like me so they like look like they give a shit." He could almost feel your rage, but you still seemed totally unaffected.

"I'm guessing you're not a big jewellery person then?" You emphatically shook your head.

"Some, I like precious metals as long as I know that they've been mined ethically but I can't look at a precious stone no matter where it comes from." From the small amount your Brother had said about your work, Jax could understand that you have seen a lot of suffering.

The last book was put on the shelf and you were directing Jax to the kitchen.

"Now, in this house, if you don't help prepare the food you don't eat. I'm no one's maid. I'll show you what needs to be done and answer any questions you have, no matter how silly you think they are."

You made sure everyone was looking at you and listening.

"There will be no 'I don't know what I'm doing' or nonsense like that. I hate it when people insult their own intelligence, if you genuinely can't do it I will find something you can do."

You could see that some of them were very unimpressed; Gemma, on the other hand, looked like she would burst out into song.

You're going to fit right in.

"All good?" there were some nods and grunts and you started to show them around the kitchen. When everyone knew their job and were paying attention to their task, you pulled Gemma into the greenhouse room.

"Sammy tells me you like to garden so I figured you could work in here for the afternoon? I just need these seeds sowed and those seedlings put into those pots." Gemma assessed the space and got to work. You were a little too busy to stop and speak to everyone individually and Gemma got the impression you didn't really like being around people.

"Thank you, Ma'am." Gemma walked over to you from the pot she was tending.

"I can tell the guys are going to like you but you've got to relax a bit, no one's going to bite you." Her tone didn't leave much room for protest.

"And please call me Gemma, Ma'am makes me feel like an old maid." You smiled at her. You knew how these subcultures worked, getting the matriarch's approval was very important, especially for other women.

"Thank you Gemma."

****

Dinner prep went really well, and everyone did what was asked of them without slacking. You made sure to thank each person and complement their work, you could tell that some of them weren't used to being told they did a good job.

"Mr Ortiz, can you please come and help me with the bread dough?"

Juice practically ran over to you.

"You don't need to be so polite, Juice is fine." what struck you about Juice was how gentle he seemed, you wondered if he was a good fit for the life of an Outlaw Club.

"Ok Juice. All I need you to do here is fold in the butter, to a bit at a time and make sure it's all mixed before you add more" You showed him how to do it then watched him do it so you knew he understood.

"You're very good at that" you made sure you sounded genuine.

"Well, I'm a mechanic so I hope so."

He was shy

"There are plenty of mechanics who can't cook for shit. Don't dismiss yourself, baking is hard." Juice was turning a little red so you left him to collect himself.

You walked over to the stove to talk to Happy.

"How's your mum doing." Happy kept stirring the pot while he spoke to you.

"Much better, thanks to you. I know you won't admit it but paying the bill really helped."

You cast him a coy glance.

"Not on pain of death."

You moved on to Chibs next.

"Do you like spicy food?" He was browning some spices for a curry, it seemed like he had done it before.

"Aye Lass, my favourite is the butter chicken for the Indian place on 5th."

"Well you're doing great."

Jax was after Chibs, having finished cutting up the vegetables he was sitting reading a book from the library.

"Can you please help me with the dinner table?" Jax got up and followed you into the other room.

It was simple, there was a large round table in the middle and some indoor plants around the space. You explained to him how to extend it out while you pulled more chairs from a cupboard.

"Do you have a thing for King Arthur?" you gave him a funny look.

"I went through that phase in high school, I like this table because the sections spin so no one is reaching over to grab food."

You showed Jax how parts of the table spun when pushed.

"That makes a lot more sense."

****

Everyone was sitting down eating, there wasn't much talking which you took as a good sign.

"Is everyone enjoying the food?" There were nods and fulled mouthed yeses all around.

"I didn't even know half this stuff existed?" Tig has pilled his plate high with everything that was on the table.

"Well, I would have done something a lot more simple but Little Brother did the shopping and it's all his favourites."

Gemma laughed

"What exactly are we eating?" Clay sounded kind of put out.

You went through each one, pointing out where they came from and a bit about how you learnt the recipe.

"There are some clean containers ready to go, I'll bring them over and you can all get some left-overs, Sam can bring the containers back here when you're done with them."

The was a bit of a rush in the air, you turned to Gemma.

"Let me guess, when it comes to food it's either the quick or the dead?" Everyone started to laugh, Juice almost choked on some soup.

****

There weren't many left-overs to speak of, but you two hid in the kitchen while they fought over the scraps, per Gemma's advice.

"What do you think of the Club?" You knew this was coming sooner or later.

"All good things so far, everyone has been very nice." Gemma seemed to take you at your word but something was still a little off

Momma bear

"We should bring in the dessert, they should be done by now" She went to the fridge to get it out and carried it into the other room.

Dessert was another quiet affair, you couldn't tell if they were really enjoying themselves or just getting tired.

"If everyone is done, I think we'll call it a night. I'm ready to fall asleep at the table."

They helped you clean up before they left, each one thanking you for the food and for letting them into your home. Jax was the last to leave, he told everyone he wanted to thank you especially for all the work you've done for the Club.

"Thank you again for everything you did over the last year, I think you saved us from some pretty bad situations." he was looking from your face to his feet like a teenage boy.

"I had to keep Sammy safe, helping the Club was just a bonus." Sam had long gone to bed by the time you two were done talking.

He was putting on his shoes to leave when you said your final goodbye.

"May I give you a hug? You're the reason Sam's so happy so I think you've earnt it."

Jax opened his arms and pulled you into an embrace.

You had never felt so safe with a person you met less than 24 hours ago.

You didn't have the energy to consider the implications.

Part 4

[qianinterprises]

Summer '78

Pairing | bully!Jeno x chubby!Reader

Warning(s) | bullying, harsh words, cussing, sexual assault, name calling, fat shaming, poor shaming, face slapping, angst, hurtful comments, yelling, the Dreamies are not nice people (I know I did Jaemin wrong, I'm sorry)

Synopsis | Jeno was a bully, and you were his primary victim. Nothing should have changed, but Jeno began getting tired of bullying the girl he was in love with simply because she didn't conform to societies beauty standards. So she was chubby? So what?! His friends didn't see it that was.

Genre | ANGST, retro-flashback

Author’s Notes | So I wrote this a while back for an event of NCTA, which was basically writing a retro fic. This fic is very different than the fics I usually write. For one, it is told in Jeno's perspective rather than the readers. For two, this is a "chubby fic." Meaning the reader is seen in the fic as having a larger body weight, which, may I add here, is not a problem, nor should it ever be. If you are being bullied for anything, please don't let it go unreported. Report it as many times as you have to because bullying is not ok, whether it's done at school, at home, or anywhere else. Also, there is a possibility that there will be a part two, I have had some people (before posting it here) request a part two but I'm on the fence about that, but perhaps a part two will show some change and growth on Jeno's part. So we'll see. Tell me your opinions though! I hope you enjoy~

Word Count | 3.5k

Taglist | @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @nschitty

A group of six boys sat around a table talking and laughing until a loud crash resounded through the snack shack that brought their attention to a waitress on the floor, yellow heels scattered behind her, empty tray in her hands and spilled drinks everywhere as well as on a girl by the table the waitress had fallen at.

“Clutz,” one of the boys, Jeno, mumbled, shaking his head.

“Fatass,” Jeno’s best friend, Jaemin responded.

The other four muttered something along the lines of agreement as they watched the waitress cowering on the floor with a bright red face as the girl now covered in cola shrieked about her ruined clothing and hair.

Jaemin got up from his seat angrily.

“What the hell are you doing to my girlfriend!” he yelled, approaching the pair.

“Jaeminnie! She poured soda all over me!” the girl pouted, running into Jaemins arms.

Jeno rolled his eyes.

Jeno shook his head. Out of all of the boys in their biker gang, Jaemin just had to be the most gullible, falling for the Queen Bee of the high school who used him for nothing more than his money and face.

“She ruined my shirt,” Jeno heard the girl whine.

Jaemin embraced her tighter.

“You’ll have to pay for her clothing, fatty!” Jaemin demanded.

The waitress was someone Jeno recognized. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). She had been one of his best friends when he was a shy ten year old trying to fit in. They both befriended Jaemin and the rest of their group and somewhere along the way, he’d gotten muscular and tall while she’d gotten chubby. With Jeno’s looks, he’d always been popular with girls, but when he became interested in them as more than friends, he’d dumped the girl in favor of girlfriends.

She was a bullied girl wearing outdated clothing that made adequate grades. A nobody. She didn’t fit into any groups. She drifted through high school being shoved against lockers while her books were thrown across the hallway and what little lunch money she had was stolen. More often than not, Jeno or one of the other guys was the perpetrator.

“I can’t…” (y/n) muttered, looking down at the floor.

Jaemin kicked the carrying tray away from her, making the girl flinch.

Something in Jeno’s heart snapped against his chest, but he’d never allow it to escape. He watched tears gather in the corner of the girl's eyes and Jeno fought the urge to pull her to his chest.

Feelings began to stir their first year in high school when he and (y/n) had been seated side-by-side in homeroom and he’d leaned over to tease her about her recent, awkwardly styled hair when he’d met the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

The feelings made his stomach twist in knots and his body tingled. Feelings and sensations that only grew stronger when their skin brushed or when her angelic voice met his ears.

The feelings were what drove him to brash treatment. His hands shoving her shoulders against the lockers as he demanded for her money. Fingers harshly tugging at the ends of her hair. His voice yelling horrible things at her just to hear her speak back.

He couldn’t tell anyone how he was feeling either. Dating the chubby girl would cause him to lose whatever popularity he had obtained along with his pride and his gang. Their leader couldn’t be seen as the weak punk who decided to date the chubby girl from a poor family.

Jaemin sneered down at the blushing girl, taunting her loudly and Jeno watched her feeble attempt at hiding her face.

“Jaemin! Let’s go. Chubby over here isn’t worth our time,” Jeno called loudly, voice filled with authority that had Jaemin immediately moving away from the girl.

“Fine. But she owes us free meals for a week! Those clothes were expensive!” Jaemin whined.

He kissed his girlfriend's cheek and walked to the door to wait on the rest of the gang who were stuffing their last few fries in their mouths or finishing off their milkshakes.

“Let’s roll,” Jaemin called, a grin on his face.

Jeno shook his head at how fast the male changed perspectives. He grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair, sliding his arms into it and let it snap against his back.

The last few members finished their plates, leaving them on the table before grabbing their own jackets and following Jaemin out the door. Jeno took the end, stopping by the waitress on the floor.

“Maybe get some heels your fat feet can walk in, huh Dollface?” he sneered.

Her face flew red again and he rolled his eyes.

“And you should stop blushing. You look like a tomato. Vegetables aren’t attractive. Although it’s fitting. Tomatoes are plump.”

He walked out the door without another word, heart hammering painfully in his ears. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but that was a problem. He couldn’t think chubby girls were beautiful. What would his friends think?

The loud purr of an engine met his ears and he sighed happily, most of his regret getting washed away, uprooted by the smell of motor oil and tires.

Jeno’s ride was a cherry red 1960 Harley-Davidson motorcycle with shiny silver wheels that didn’t match the rusted gas tank or muffler that Jeno was now saving to restore among other things. The black leather seat was slightly cracked from wear over the years and the breaks didn’t always work great. His headlight needed a new spark plug and the oil line leaked. Still, with all of these issues, he loved his bike. Each new issue gave him something to work on at night in his father's tiny little garage when all he wanted was grease on his chest and a wrench in his hand.

“Let’s go Jeno! I wanna ride!” Donghyuck moaned from his spot on his own bike, revving the engine with his right hand.

Jeno rolled his eyes at Donghyuck’s whining. Out of all of them, he was the one that loved traveling the most. They’d gone all the way up the coast the day they’d let Donghyuck lead them.

Jeno nodded and threw his leg over his bike, kicking the kick start lever and sighing happily as the bike roared to life beneath him. He pushed off his kickstand and allowed it to roll forward.

“Let’s go!” he called.

He rolled to the front of the group before revving the engine and turning onto the main road leaving the beachside snack shack behind.

~

When Jeno pulled into the driveway of his house, he parked his motorcycle beside his elder brother's black and gold Harley, letting the kickstand rest against the dirt driveway and dismounted..

He made his way into the house where his older brother, Jaehyun, was sitting alone in the living room flipping through channels.

Jeno’s heart hurt. All through the ride, he thought about (y/n) and the pained look in her eyes every time someone teased her. He knew it wasn’t right to bully her, especially for something as shallow as her weight or her clothes, but when the girls Jeno dated began mocking her, Jeno joined in, and pretty soon, she was alone. It hurt that Jeno could have stopped it. He could have kept her as a friend instead of ditching her, and now, here he was, hopelessly in love with the girl he bullied and too afraid to stand up to his friends out of fear that they would dump him.

“I have a problem,” he groaned, flopping down on the couch.

Jaehyun turned the small box television off and turned his attention to Jeno. Jeno rolled his head back on the plush green sofa and sighed.

“There’s this girl I like…” he started.

Jaehyun groaned in disinterest.

“So tell her. Not like you can’t get any girl. I heard you’re one of the kings of your class,” he replied.

Jeno whined. It was true. He could virtually have anyone he wanted, yet the one person he couldn’t have was the one he desired.

“I can’t. My friends wouldn’t approve and she’d never go for me… not after everything I’ve done,” he muttered hopelessly.

“Why do you care so much what your punk friends think? Do what you want, not what they want you to do.”

Jeno sighed. It wasn’t that easy and Jaehyun should know that.

“She’d never go out with me anyway and I can never tell her!” Jeno whined, hoping his brother would understand.

He was far too ashamed to come out and say exactly why she wouldn’t. “There’s girls that don’t like you?” Jaehyun asked, clearly shocked.

Jeno nodded sullenly.

“Just one…”

That seemed to make the links click in Jaehyun’s mind and Jeno wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“You don’t mean you like the poor girl you always bully, do you?”

So Jaehyun knew about that. No wonder his brother had grown distant since Jeno had started high school.

“Um… yes…” he mumbled.

Jaehyun shuffled around on the beige chair he was sitting on before one of his dirty socks was being chucked at Jeno’s head.

“Hey!” Jeno snapped.

“You don’t treat people like that! You and your friends are assholes! That poor girl won’t forgive you for what you’ve done to her!” Jaehyun yelled.

Jeno wanted to yell back, but he knew Jaehyun was right. He was an asshole.

“What do I do to get her to like me… I don’t know how to stop this mess…” he mumbled. Jaehyun groaned and grabbed the large remote, flipping the television back on.

“You make things right. Stop bullying the girl and apologize like you mean it. Even then, it may be too late,” Jaehyun answered before his attention was back into the heavy box television.

Jeno sighed. He knew his brother was right.

~

The next afternoon, Jeno pulled his motorcycle into the parking lot of the snack shack, parking alongside Jisungs rusting brown one he refused to let Jaemin or Jeno strip and repaint.

Jeno dismounted and walked into the shack. His friends were crowded around their usual table, talking loudly.

Jeno walked over to the table and slid into the booth beside Renjun.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

Jaemin was cackling and fishing ice out of his soda glass.

“(y/n) is on our table today!” he smirked.

Jeno’s heart dropped. That meant they’d be extra cruel to her today and Jeno really couldn’t do anything to tell her or his friends how he felt. The universe must really hate him.

Jaemin got the ice out of his cola glass and held it in his palm, his faze shifting to where (y/n) was shuffling around in her red striped shirt and black pants, wearing those same yellow heels.

“What are you gonna-”

Jeno was cut off as Jaemin smirked and launched the ice cube across the table, getting enough air to fly across the room until it dived down into the low cut v-line of (y/n)’s striped shirt.

“Yes! 10 points!” Jaemin cheered loudly.

(y/n) squeaked at the sudden intrusion of ice, a sound that Jeno found oddly adorable, even if it wasn’t a good kind of squeak.

Her face flamed red and she hurried back to put her notepad down on the chef’s counter before moving back to their table.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” she asked, her voice having gone up an octave from embarrassment.

“I want a chocolate milkshake,” Renjun answered.

(y/n) jotted it down and moved to look at the rest.

“I want a burger that’s charred on one side, but not too charred. Don’t bring me burnt meat or I’ll make your fatass eat it,” Jaemin said.

Jeno sighed at his friend, shaking his head subtly.

“I want a burger with a dollop of ketchup and three pickles. Don’t you dare give me any more or less than three pickles,” Donghyuck ordered.

Jeno rolled his eyes. Donghyuck didn’t even like pickles.

She glanced at Jisung and Chenle, both who were contently sipping their cola’s and completely ignoring her existence, so, after scribbling down everyone else’s orders, she turned her eyes to Jeno.

“Coke with ten pieces of ice and a burger.”

(y/n) nodded, writing all of the information down and shuffled off to the counter again.

“Do we really have to be that mean to her? She looked like she was going to cry,” Renjun muttered.

Jaemin rolled his eyes.

Jeno nodded in agreement to Renjun. Her face was sullen and her eyes glistened with tears that hadn’t fallen. His heart sank at the thought that maybe something had happened at home or that their words had finally gotten to her. In all the time they’d been bullying her, she never once said anything much to them, and they’d never seen her cry.

“Do you think we should lay off her?” he suggested.

Donghyuck and Jaemin snorted at the same time.

“Why would we do that?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno shook his head. His friends could be such assholes sometimes. They wouldn’t even stop for someone that seems to be almost crying, they just use it to play more games. More buttons to press.

“If you’re so worried, Jeno, go check on her,” Chenle challenged.

“Yeah, go check on her!” Jaemin cackled.

Jeno shook his head and sighed, getting out of the booth. He knew very well what they expected him to do, or at least, what they wanted him to do, but he didn’t know if he could take calling her names anymore. Not when it felt like his soul was screaming at him not to.

He didn’t have much of a choice as he made his way over to her, however. He couldn’t control what his friends wanted and what he was obligated to give.

He moved up behind her and while her back was turned, he brought his hand down hard on her butt as his friends cackled loudly from their table. Jeno’s ears burned in embarrassment and guilt. If his mother knew what he’d just done, she’d be dragging him out of the snack shack by his ear.

He didn’t really know what to expect from (y/n). What he didn’t expect however, was her body whirling around rapidly, her hand raising angrily, and the sharp stinging sensation across his cheek.

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO YOU, AND YET ALL YOU ARE YOUR ASSHOLE BUDDIES WANNA DO IS BULLY ME! WELL PISS OFF! I DON’T NEED THIS!” she screamed.

Jeno’s eyes widened. This was new…

“YOU ARE A BUNCH OF PUNKASS BOYS WITH NOTHING BETTER TO DO, BUT I SWEAR THE NEXT TIME I HEAR A COMMENT ABOUT MY WEIGHT, CLOTHES, OR HAIR, OR ANYONE TOUCHEs ME, I WILL SHOVE MY FAT FOOT UP YOUR BUTTHOLE!” she screamed angrily.

The cackling from the table had stopped as the boys gaped at their waitress in shock.

“AND YOU IDIOTS CAN GET YOUR OWN DAMN BURGERS!”

The snack shack had gone deathly quiet. Jeno stood as still as a statue, face still stinging, but not quite as painful now. The outburst from this usually quiet and reserved girl shocked him to his very core, but it also made him feel worse. Sure, the ice throwing, name calling, and excessively stupid orders had added fuel to the fire, but it was Jeno’s action that had thrown her over the edge.

“I-I’m… sorry…” he stammered out.

“DON’T SAY SORRY TO ME AFTER THE HELL YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH!” she screamed.

Jeno’s heart pounded in his chest and his eyes gazed at her fearfully.

“I think it’s time you go home, (y/n), calm down and come back tomorrow,” the owner of the snack shack said, walking out of his office.

(y/n) nodded and let out a sniffle. Jeno didn’t know when she’d started crying. She grabbed the bag the owner handed her before running out of the shack.

“And you, young man. You and your boys get out of my shack. You’re all banned for a week. Come back in here acting like that and you’ll be banned permanently,” he said, eyes fixed angrily on Jeno.

Jeno turned to look back at his gang and sighed, waving a hand for them all to follow.

~

After the incident, Jeno hadn’t felt much like going on a ride with the rest of the gang. They were all perfectly fine, cackling and talking about the outburst, but Jeno couldn’t stomach it. The way she’d screamed. How upset she’d looked. He was done being a bully. Now he just needed to figure out how to go from bully to courting her, if that were even possible.

He parked his bike beside Jaehyun’s again, happy to see his brother was home and not at the rusty body shop he worked at.

He ran into the house, taking the front steps two at a time, and when he was inside, he made his way to the room he shared with Jaehyun.

“I need to borrow your boombox!” he yelled at the male.

Jaehyun, clearly not expecting the sudden intrusion, jumped off the small bed, stuffing the adult rated magazine he’d been “reading” under his mattress. Jeno rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time to find ways to ruin Jaehyun’s relationship with his girlfriend or rat him out to their mother.

“I. need. Your. boom. Box!” he enunciated.

Jaehyun stared at him incredulously.

“Uh… Why?” he asked.

Jeno shook his head angrily and shoved past Jaehyun to siffle through his side of the room searching for the large, heavy, cassette playing boombox his brother had bought a month ago.

“I need it to fix my (y/n) situation!” Jeno explained as he searched.

Jaehyun groaned.

“Movies aren’t real! That won’t work!”

Jeno ignored him. The guy always showed up at the window of the girl he was hoping to impress and the girl always forgave him. It’d work. It had to.

Jeno grabbed the large boombox from beneath Jaehyun’s bed, groaning at the weight. He heard Jaehyun sigh.

“Good luck then.”

Jeno didn’t need it. This would work. It had to work.

~

The ride to (y/n)’s house had proven to be a bit difficult as he struggled to hold the boombox against him. The box was large and heavy, with a small cassette player at the top that already had his chosen tape resting inside it.

The trip over was one of many stops and repositionings in an attempt not to drop the box that could very well make everything alright. He could just imagine her grinning in glee and running down to meet him, forgiving him for everything he’d ever done to hurt her.

By the time he got to her house, dusk was falling. He had maybe ten minutes before darkness engulfed the sky. Ten minutes in which he’d be tasked with making everything better.

He moved around the side of the common two story house and found (y/n)’s window easily. She appeared to be dancing to the music playing from the vinyl record player he could almost see perched by the window. It brought a smile to his lips. She looked so happy and carefree.

He could watch her all night, but he was here for a reason. He had to apologize for everything he’d ever done and confess.

He found a rock likely from her driveway by her window in the grass and picked it up. It was only one so he had to make it count.

He pressed play on the cassette player portion of the boombox and ‘It’s sad to belong’ came flowing out melodically from the speakers.

”Met you on a springtime day,”

He threw the rock hard against her window, flinching as he heard the rock bounce off. He was surprised it hadn’t broken the window.

”You were mindin’ your life and I was mindin’ mine too. The window opened and Jeno’s heart hammered in his chest.

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n)! I am so in love with you it hurts. I am so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you! All the bullying. All the teasing. I’m so sorry. You’re not fat or ugly! You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen! I just couldn’t show it! But I don’t care what my friends think! I love you! I want to be with you! I want to court you! Please forgive me!” he pleaded, not giving the girl a chance to say anything.

When he finished speaking, the song was nearing an end and his body was shaking. The girl looked almost close to tears again and Jeno grew hopeful that in any second, she’d run downstairs and jump into his arms.

“Yes it’s sad to belong to someone else when the right one comes along.”

“You love me huh? Well you have a funny way of showing it,” she sneered.

The window slammed shut and the drapes were immediately dropped, leaving Jeno alone in the darkness of the evening, his hopes dashed across the grass.

He’d waited too long to apologize.

[seiyasabi]

Trouble In Paradise

(This is a Yandere Kyoutani x Cute Fem Reader x Yandere (Platonic) Older Bro Iwa-chan  fic :)) This takes place after high school, in a universe where everyone still plays volleyball. 

TW; Jealousy!, turns into dubcon/noncon!!!!, !unwanted choking!, As I’ve said in the past-every character I write for (in my head) are like two feet taller than you!, Possessive behaviour!, he’s highkey soft for u but is still a bastard lol (love him), marking kink!, creampie!, daddy kink!, mentions of Oikawa lowkey being a Yandere too, etc.. 

Kyoutan deserves the world ;)) I love him ajadskhafkah also, sorry if my use of ‘chan’ is cringey, I think it’s funny af tbh, and since I’m Japanese, I’ll do what I want lmao. Anyways, sorry if this sucks, I tried like 5 different ways to write this, and this was the only one that ended up being somewhat decent. ) 

Skipping to the loud gym, your skirt swishes against the fat of your thighs. Your cute ass can be seen peeking out from under the pleated fabric, leaving those around you to coo at your pretty self. Without meaning to, you catch the eye of those around you. 

Seeing the gym’s doors, you push them open with an excited vigour, happy to finally be with your big brother and boyfriend. 

Immediately when you enter, you see Oikawa being swarmed with his fanclub, leaving a straight shot to the rest of the team. Spotting your bad-boy bf, you squeal in delight, gunning at him at top speed. He’s currently sitting on the bleachers, your brother seemingly scolding him for his RBF and bad attitude, but his eyes snap up in an instant, recognising your voice from anywhere. 

An uncharacteristic smile is present on his pierced face, standing to his feet, he readies himself to catch you and twirl you around. That’s a plus of being in shape; picking up your supes cute gf whenever you please! 

That is, until a certain pretty boy steps in the way. 

Tooru has his arms out, in a stance that will allow him to catch you with ease. Before you could slow down and avoid him, he yoinks you up and off of the floor, holding you in a tight embrace, “(Your Name)-chan! I knew you’d come visit me! I’ve been waiting all day for you, Cutie!” The glares from your boyfriend and brother are instantaneous. 

Iwa looks ready to scalp the brunet, whilst Ken looks ready to scrap-possibly even catch a body. Oikawa’s fans look absolutely bloodthirsty, jealous of your cute self being in the arms of the equally cute male. 

Pouting, you push at the pretty boy’s chest, “Put me down! I’m not here for you!” He coos at you, moving in to kiss you on the cheek, only for you to push him away by his face, “Stop it, you’re being weird! Put me down, I wanna see Ken-Chan!” 

By this point, your boyfriend and brother have made their way to you, ready to rip him to shreds, “Put my sister down, Shittykawa! Don’t be a perv!” He karate chops the starlet on the head, causing him to drop you in surprise. 

“Iwa-Chan! You’re so mean to me! Now look what you did, (Your Name)-Chan is hurt-” Kentarou catches you in an instant, cradling you in his scarred arms. Oikawa’s mouth gapes in shock, brain not computing the fact that the dyed haired male moved at lightning speed. 

“No, she ain’t,” He gruffs out, smooching you on the cheek. You giggle, hugging the tatted male tightly. Your (size) breasts smoosh against his buff chest, as you start to pepper kisses all over his face, “She ain’t ever gettin’ hurt if I’m here,” He places a kiss on your lips, relishing how you immediately kiss back. 

“Ken-Chan! I missed you so much!” He rolls his eyes, the tips of his ears turning red. Readjusting his hold on you, he cradles your ass instead of your thighs, causing you to gasp, “Kyoutan, don’t be a perv!” 

He smirks, readying himself to respond, only for your brother to beat you to it, “Yeah, ‘Kyoutan,’ don’t be perving on my little sister!” Redirecting his smug look, he sticks his tongue out at your fuming sibling. 

“Bite me.”

The look on Hajime’s face is priceless, “Biting you isn’t the only thing you need to worry about-” 

“Haji,” His attention immediately snaps to your sweet face, which is currently pouting, “Don’t threaten him! He’s precious to me!” Before Kyoutani can say something smart, you rest your head against his neck, practically nuzzling him, which also shuts him up. 

The spikey haired ace is immediately offended, “I-wha-(Nickname), aren’t I precious to you? Aren’t I your most wonderful older brother?” You giggle, nodding your head. 

“Yes! But Ken-Chan is baby-”

“(Nickname)-Chan, aren’t I baby?! I feel so left out!” Oikawa and his fangirls are off to the side, watching the interaction. Whilst Oinks looks positively offended and left out, the girls are angry that you’ve stolen the captain’s attention. 

“No, you’re the ugly side character,” Hajime states nonchalantly. 

“Yea, yer uglier than the dirt under (Your Name)’s shoe,” Offended noises and indignant hand movements follow their words, as his fans start to shout in anger and shock. 

You lightly whack Kyoutani on the shoulder, scolding him with your eyes, “Haji, Kyoutan, don’t be mean! Tooru is pretty,” The setter preens in delight, “But, he’s dumb. So, he’s the dumb, but pretty, character!” 

His hands grasp his chest as if you’d stabbed him, “(Nickname)-Chan, my heart, it’s breaking-” He fake gags, causing your brother and boyfriend to roll their eyes, “The only way to fix it…. Is to get a kiss!” He bolts towards you, causing you to shriek in surprise. Placing you on your feet, you’re quickly placed behind the dyed haired man, ‘Mad Dog’ making an appearance. 

Practically frothing at the mouth, he snarls at Oikawa, whilst Hajime sticks out his foot, effectively tripping him. Once falling, the pierced male yanks him up by his shirt collar, and hauls him up to his feet. Now face to face with the scary male, Oikawa gulps in fear, “I’ll kill ya, put ya in the ground, Pretty Boy. Once yer dead, Iwaizumi’ll dance over yer corpse.”

“Yes, I think I will,” Hearing his bestie agree with the sentiment, Oinks finally realises that he messed around too much. 

“Now, yer gonna apologise to (Your Name), or I’ll shave yer head,” Now fully standing, Kyoutani moves out of the way, allowing the setter to apologise face-to-face. 

Dropping to his hands and knees, he starts to bow at you as if you’re royalty, “I’m sorry, (Your Name)-Chan! I promise I didn’t mean to offend you! Please don’t let Mad Dog-Chan and Iwa-Chan kill me!” Giggling at his over the top words, you nod your head. 

“It’s okay, Tooru-Chan,” You pat his head reassuringly, “I know you love your fangirls more than me,” This causes the gym to erupt into cheers, as the other girls start to swarm the male. You can hear him scream in fear, but are quickly pulled away from the crime scene, and taken out to the car park. 

Your brother holds you close to him, glaring at your boyfriend who looks equally as angry. There’s a heavy silence between the three of you, as you’re squished into a hug by your brother. 

“Haji, why’re you holding me so tight? Don’t you have to get back to practice?” He doesn’t answer, instead speaking to your boyfriend. 

“Take her home, Kyoutani. I’ll deal with him now, you can deal with him later,” He nods, taking you from your older brother’s arms, and practically carrying you to his motorcycle. Setting you on the back of the bike, he opens the back hatch of the bike, and pulls out your pastel pink helmet. Placing it onto your head tenderly, he flips the eye cover up, allowing you to see him clearly for a moment. 

Smiling up at him (he can only see your eyes crinkle), you speak, “Hi!” His pissed off face immediately dissolves, causing him to smile at your cute self. 

“Hi, Baby,” Grabbing his rough hands, you interlace your fingers between his. 

“Aren’t you going to practice, Kyo-Ken?” He rolls his eyes, but gives your hands a squeeze. 

“Nah, I gotta take my Baby Girl home, so I can show her who she belongs to,” He gives you a wink, leaving you to splutter in surprise. 

“You-you can’t say that in public!” Chuckling, he releases your hands and flips your eye cover down, before chucking on his own helmet, and settling on the front of the bike. 

Pulling Your arms around his waist, he waits for you to settle against him. He relishes your tight hold, as you practically cling onto him for dear life. 

Starting up the engine, he kicks up the kick stand, and speeds off to your shared apartment. 

-

Your body bounces off of the mattress, as you let out a small scream. A giggle escapes your lips, as you smile up at Kyoutani, “Ken-Ken, are you still mad?” He nods, his hands pulling off your cropped sweater, and pushing up your skirt to expose your pastel yellow panties. 

“That ugly bastard should’a know better than t’a put his disgusting hands on ya,” He practically growls, undoing your bra and letting your pretty tits flop out. Kissing up your neck, he sucks hickies onto the previously unblemished skin. A small moan leaves your lips at the feeling, as he starts to pinch and twist your nipples. 

“Daddy!” He releases your neck with a ‘pop,’ smirking down at you. 

“Yes, Princess? Do ya need something?” He rubs the skin on the inside of your thighs, purposefully missing your dampening cunny, “Do ya need yer Daddy to touch yer Princess parts?” 

Nodding, you plead with him, “Yes! Please touch me!” 

Chuckling, he pulls your panties off of you, letting the cool air of your shared room caress your cunny. Running a single finger up your slit, he barely taps your clit, causing your hips to jerk up and off of the mattress, “Yer such a sensitive baby, I love ya so much.”

“I love you too, Daddy! Please fuck me!” He hums, mulling over your words. 

“Want me to show everyone who ya belong to?” You nod your head rapidly. 

“Yes! Yes, please!” Kissing you on the lips sloppily, he reaches down to pull out his cock from his Adidas sport shorts. His tip is pierced, and when he rubs it against your clit, you practically see stars. 

“My good, cute, polite girl,” He gathers your slick on his tip, before he pushes in. Your walls burn as you try to accommodate to his thick size, practically sucking the air from your lungs. A wanton moan is heard from you, as he waits for you to accept him comfortably, “Relax, Princess. Let me int’a yer pretty cunny.” 

“Da-Daddy,” Your arms wrap around him, clawing at his shirt covered back, “You’re too big!” He shushes you softly, rubbing your clit with two fingers. Your juices slowly drip out of you and onto his cock. After a moment, he begins to move, practically rearranging your guts. 

“You’ve taken me before, Princess. I know ya can do it, just let me in,” He starts to thrust into you at a medium speed, rubbing your clit at the same pace. Your eyes glaze over, practically rolling into the back of your head. 

His cock is heavy and girthy inside of your slick walls, spearing you open with each thrust. Moans and keens leave your throat, as you grip onto him. Your hips meet his, your juices spraying onto the both of you. 

“Look at my pretty baby, so fucked out already,” He uses the hand that’s not on your clit to grasp your throat, causing your body to go rigid and eyes to go wide. 

“Ken-” He shuts you up with a kiss, swallowing your words. You try to push his hand off, but it’s to no avail. He continues to fuck into you, your cunny still sucking him in, even as you’re scared of his actions. 

“Fuck, yer practically milking me for all I’ve got,” He removes his lips from yours, his grip becoming a bit tighter, “Ya want yer Daddy to cum in ya? Yea ya do.”

Now, you’re really pushing against him. You’re not on the pill, “Ken, pull out!” He shushes you, rubbing on your clit even harder than before, trying to make you cum before him. Kentarou relishes the small tears at the corner of your eyes, loving how cute you look. 

Without you wanting to, you cum with a small gush of liquid, a whine echoing through your chest. He follows not long after you, filling you to the brim with his virile cum. 

With a grunt and a huff, he pulls out of you, loving how his cum looks leaking out of you. Removing his hand from your throat, he looks down once more, realising that you don’t look very happy. 

“You didn’t listen to me,” You rub the hand mark around your neck, as you sit up, moving away from him. 

“Awe, don’t be like that, Baby,” He reaches out for you, but you move away from him. 

“I don’t want to be near you right now, Kyoutani. You didn’t stop…” Moving off of the bed, you stand to your feet. Going to your dresser, you grab a week’s worth of clothes, including your work uniform. Pulling on a new shirt, you fix your previous outfit, as you start to cry. 

“Wait-I-ya-ya aren’t leaving me, are ya?” For once, the spitfire male is at a loss for words. 

“No, I just need time away from you. You say that Tooru is bad, but you hurt me a lot just now. I’m calling Haji, and I’m going to stay with him for a little while,” Your brother has your daily items there, just because you’d sleep over sometimes, so you aren’t too worried about not having soap and such. 

Grabbing your phone from your purse by your bedroom door, you call him, Ken watching you with wide eyes, “Haji, please pick me up. Kyoutani and I got into a fight.”

-

Hajime helps you into his car, before turning to the still shocked male you call your boyfriend. He hasn’t said a word, if anything, he looks shocked beyond anything else. 

Shutting the car door, your brother finally speaks, “I knew you were no good for her. Your jealousy got the better of you.”

“I didn’t mean to, it-it just-”

“Got out of control?” Your brother raises an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest, “Yeah, I’ve noticed. You hurt my little sister,” He moves closer to the dyed haired man, eyes flashing with anger, “You choked her out. Why? Because Oikawa made you jealous? Despicable.”

“It isn’t like that! We-we were having se-” He holds up a hand, stopping your boyfriend from continuing. 

“I don’t want to hear it. Just know that if you come near her without her allowing you to be in her presence, I’ll kill you. I never wanted you to be with her, and you just proved my fears correct.”

Realisation dawns on Kyoutani, “Wait- is this why ya wanted me to come home with her? So I could fuck up?” 

Hajime smirks, “Of course. My little sister is too good for you. Now, fuck off, before I do something you won’t like.” 

Ken watches as you go, tears brimming his eyes. He should’ve known your brother would find you too precious to be with him. He most likely asked Oikawa to help him, seeing as the pretty boy was in the car with you, looking as perfect as ever. 

He fucked up, and now Hajime has won their rivalry. 

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Chrome & Leather - Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC, Brother Bucky x OFC, Eventual Billy Russo x OFC

Chapter Warnings: Mention of Smut, Cussing, Angst, Violence, Minor Death

Word Count: 4189

Chapter Summary: The engagement is celebrated amongst family and friends the same night of the proposal but not everyone is happy about the news. Winnie finds out the next day about the tension between the sisters and makes Becca promise to talk things out that evening with Jessie. Secrets are revealed about the family debt and why Becca what to the extent she did. The debt always comes with a price to pay but what’s the cost?

A/N: This is my first fic with an original female character,  Jessie Barnes. Face claim for Jessie Barnes is model Jessy Hartel, Images of her are slightly altered to give her blue eyes for my OFC by @happygowriting​

A/N 2: Please read the warnings. DNI if under 18 years old. I’ve been so nervous to release this chapter because it is now going to be more towards drama for a little bit.

Picture below of Steve with his Jessie tattoo is by the talented @nix-akimbo​

To read more of my work here is my Masterlist

Thank you to my beta @music-culture-mythology​​​​​ for looking this over for me.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​

I will only be doing mini tag-lists for mutuals that interact with me. To stay up to date with my writing follow my side-blog and turn on the notifications for @saiyanprincessswanie-sideblog​​​​

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Before heading to the bar, Jessie and Steve made their way to Winnie's house to share the good news with her. She deserved to hear about the engagement from them instead of the town gossip. As Steve’s bike pulled into the driveway they saw Winnie on her porch taking in the cool breeze that the evening brought. Together they walked hand in hand up to the porch to greet her.

“Well if I knew you kids were going to stop by I would have made a pie.” Winnie got up from her chair and hugged them both. 

“Oh mom, we don’t need anything. Actually, we need to tell you something,” Jessie admitted as she looked between Steve and her mom.

“My god, are you having a baby?” Winnie asked as her hand went to her chest. 

“No!” Both Steve and Jessie exclaimed in unison. 

Winnie was concerned now as she watched them both. “Well, what is it? Is everything okay?”

Jessie flashed her left hand at her mom. “We’re engaged,” she excitedly said.

Winnie looked at Jessie’s hand and then Steve. Tears started to fall from her eyes as Winnie wrapped her arms around them both, hugging them tightly. “I can’t believe my baby is getting married. I mean it’s about damn time you asked her Steven.”

Steve let out a chuckle as Winnie winked at him. “I wanted to make sure I could provide for your daughter. Jessie deserves the world and now that I have the means, I can give it to her.”

“Money isn’t everything Steven, but I have no doubt you will take care of my little girl.” Winnie smiled as Jessie wrapped her arms around Steve. “You know, your ma would’ve been so proud of the man you’ve become. Sarah and I knew that you both would end up together. A love like yours, well it’s what we call true love. Just know Steve, you've already been a part of this family for a long time and this makes my heart happy to call you my son-in-law.” 

Jessie watched as Steve wiped his eyes at what her mom said. She knew just hearing that his mom and Winnie were both proud of him meant the world to him. Even though Steve had been considered a part of the Barnes clan, getting married would officially mean he had a family for life. 

“Not to drop this news and run ma, but we're meeting Bucky and everyone at the tavern,” Jessie mentioned.

Winnie nodded as she pulled them both into a hug one more time. “I would like to throw a luncheon this weekend to celebrate the engagement. Nothing too big so don’t worry. We can talk about it tomorrow morning. Now go have some fun.” 

They waved goodbye as they got back onto the Harley and headed off to see their friends.

Finally arriving at the tavern Steve and Jessie saw their friends at a table in the back corner. Bucky sat with his arm draped around Nat, Laura leaned against Clint, while Wanda, Tony, John, and Thor all talked amongst themselves. As they passed Sam at the bar Steve asked him to join everyone at the table. 

Approaching everyone Steve held Jessie’s hand as he spoke, “I’m glad you all showed up on short notice we have news to share. Tonight I asked Jessie to marry me and she said yes.” Everyone gasped as Jessie lifted her hand to show their friends. Nat and Wanda quickly got up to congratulate Jessie and stare at her ring. The men all stood to congratulate Steve and tease him.

Bucky was the first to pull Steve into a hug. “About time you asked her punk. Just don’t fuck this up cause I swear if you break her heart I’m gonna hurt you.” Bucky let him go and smiled at his friend.

“I don’t plan on it jerk. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

Bucky nodded at his friend and turned to Jessie, pulling her in for a hug. “I know you have been dreaming of this since you were little. You both deserve all the happiness in the world.” He pulled her back just enough to look Jessie in her teary blue eyes. “I can’t believe my little sister is marrying my best friend.” 

“At least I’m marrying a good guy. Could be worse.” Jessie chuckled as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She searched the small crowd for her sister but didn’t see her amongst everyone.

Bucky let her go and could sense the disappointment from her. “I’m sorry Becca didn’t come. I wouldn’t worry about it though as I might have told ma what happened in the market with Brock.” Jessie looked at him in shock. If their ma was involved then Becca would stand no chance of being angry for long. 

Sam had offered up a round of free drinks for his friends as they discussed when the wedding might take place and where they were thinking. It was revealed that Steve had gone to Bucky to ask for his blessing to marry Jessie since her father was not around. That alone meant a lot to Jessie. 

As they continued to talk amongst themselves they didn’t see the anger rolling off of Billy who was sitting on the other side of the bar. Throwing down some bills on the table Billy left discreetly. By 11 pm everyone decided to call it a night as work would be waiting for them in the morning. 

Steve and Jessie waved goodbye to everyone as they pulled out of the bar parking lot. Lost in thought Jessie paid no attention to where Steve was heading until he pulled up to a tattoo parlor. 

“What are we doing here?” Jessie asked curiously as she got off the bike.

Steve hopped off the bike and grabbed her hand as he pulled her inside. “I figured since you’ve been my best girl for as long as I can remember and now that we’re engaged I wanted to get a little ink.”

“Okay, but of what?” Jessie tilted her head as Steve grinned at her.

“I want your name tattooed above my heart. Since you already own it I might as well make it official.” Steve kissed her lips gently but pulled away when the tattoo artist approached them.. Steve told the man that he wanted “Jessie” above his heart. 

An hour later they were at home and crawling into bed. Jessie’s fingers danced around the tattoo on his chest. This gesture on top of being engaged really meant he was hers. Steve gently rolled Jessie onto her back and softly kissed her lips as his hand made its way in between her legs. His fingers found she was already dripping with her arousal. Spreading her legs more he pumped his hard cock a few times and pushed into her with ease. They made love to one another, taking each other apart slowly and building each other up to an intense orgasm. Tonight was all about celebrating the start of their future together and their love for one another. As they lay in bed in each other’s arms, tangled in their sheets they both fell asleep unaware of what the day would bring.

Becca woke to a banging on her front door at 7 am. A groan left her lips as she crawled out of bed and padded to the door. Opening it up to yell at the person she inwardly cursed as Winnie pushed past her and walked towards the living room.

“Rebecca Barnes, we need to talk right now,” Winnie spoke as she sat down in a chair.

Becca followed her into the living and dropped onto the couch.“Ma, do you even know what time it is?”

“I don’t care what time it is. What I want to know is why you were seen talking to your ex at the market? Is this why you aren’t talking to your sister?” Winnie asked.

Dropping her head in her hands Becca cursed. “Did Jessie tell you that?” 

“As a matter of fact no she didn’t. Your brother did and he is worried about you.”

“Ma, there is nothing to be worried about.”

“Don’t pull that with me. Did you forget how that monster beat you? Why are you letting him come between you and your sister who stood by your side? What did you get yourself into?” Winnie furiously questioned her daughter knowing that there was something more to it that would make her talk with Brock.

Becca could feel both anger and sadness wash over her. “I know what he did to me. You don’t need to remind me of that. You don’t need to know what is going on. I'm an adult. All you need to know is that I have it under control.”

“Then start acting like an adult. If you don’t want to talk to me about this then fine. At least talk to your sister and work things out. Jessie doesn’t deserve your anger especially since she is now engaged.” 

Becca looked at her mother in shock, taking in what she said. “What? When?”

Winnie stood from her seat. “Last night Steve proposed. They went to the tavern to celebrate. I take it you weren’t there. See what you miss out on when you get mixed up with Brock.” At that comment, Becca started to tear up. Winnie walked the short distance to her daughter, sat down, and hugged her. “I love you, Rebecca. Please work things out with your sister tonight.”

Becca hugged her mom closely. “I will. I promise. I’m sorry ma.”

Winnie pulled back and warmly smiled at her. “Nothing to be sorry for my dear.” Winnie got off the couch and left. 

Her ma was right. Becca needed to confide in someone about what she got herself into. Tonight she planned to talk to Jessie after they closed the diner.

The day was flying by due to it being the end of the work week for most folks in town. Jessie and Becca arrived for their shift at 1 pm, swiftly joining both Wanda and Sharon who were busy serving people during the lunch shift while Pietro was taking over the kitchen service. Their crew worked perfectly in sync with one another as they made sure everyone that was in their dining room was always checked on and taken care of. By 1:30 pm Wanda and Sharon were clocking out for the day leaving the two sisters to do what they do best.

Jessie tried to give her sister distance and only spoke to her when it was necessary. The last thing she wanted to do was make Becca angry again before they had the chance to work things out. Throughout the shift, she was congratulated on the engagement with Steve. She couldn’t help but smile the more the day rolled along. The thought of finally being engaged to the man she loved made her feel like she was on cloud nine. 

By the time 10 pm rolled around it was finally closing time for the women. They had cleaned after the last customer left at 9:40 pm so now Jessie was tidying up as Becca counted the money in the office. 

“The kitchen is all cleaned for the evening,“ Pietro spoke as he walked into the dining room.

Jessie looked up and smiled at her friend. “That’s great. Why don’t you go ahead and head home for the night.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah, plus Becca and I have some talking to do. We might be here for a little while.” Pietro gave her a hug goodbye and left, leaving Jessie to continue to work. Finally finishing up in the dining room Jessie took a seat at the counter and texted Steve.

Jessie: Hey babe, everything is done cleaning-wise.  I’m waiting to talk to Becca. I’m a little nervous so wish me luck.

Steve: You got this sweetheart. Once you are done I’ll come to get you. Bucky, Thor, Tony, Clint, John, and I are hanging at the shop down the road. Message me when you are done.

Jessie: I will, love you.

Steve: Love you too

As Jessie tucked her phone in her pocket Becca came out from the office. Becca walked over to the counter and sat a couple of seats away from her sister. They sat in silence for a moment before Becca spoke. “I want to apologize for the way I treated you a couple of days ago. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.”

“I appreciate that Becca,” Jessie said as she studied her sister’s face. She could see the hurt in Becca’s eyes. “What is going on with you and Brock?”

“It’s complicated Jessie.” Becca looked down at her hands in her lap trying to avoid Jessie’s eyes. 

Jessie blew out a sigh as she tried to keep her composure. “Look, Becca whatever it is, just know I have your back. Obviously, you have a good reason for talking to him and I’m just trying to find out why. You might be my big sister but I worry about you. I want you to be safe. So please, just tell me what it is so I can help.”

Tears fell from Becca’s eyes as she looked up at Jessie. “I didn’t want to borrow money from him, I swear. I got a letter in the mail around the time the guys opened their garage. The letter had stated that pa’s bad debts were being called in full by someone named Jigsaw. Apparently, pa borrowed money from Alexander Pierce to bet on the horses at the track in the next county over. The diner was in need of new kitchen appliances and upgrades. The hope was the winnings at the track would cover the expenses but pa lost. Pierce then offered to help with the diner but in return, pa would have to pay Pierce back with interest. If the debt wasn’t paid Pierce would take over the diner and sell it. Then Pierce died and pa had his heart attack a few years later. I thought the debt was settled until I was contacted by someone named Jigsaw. Apparently, they took over the debt and said it had to be paid in full. Even though Steve, Bucky, you, and I were paying on what we thought were all of ma’s debts there was still this larger debt. I’m not sure if ma knew or not how bad it was. The letter went on to say that the diner was expected to be sold to settle everything out. I knew that couldn’t happen. Ma would be devastated if this happened. I mean hell, pa and her started that business together. I knew that the four of us couldn’t afford this debt so I decided to borrow from Brock. I figured he has loaned out money to people before and I was hoping that maybe he could help.”

Jessie sat in disbelief at what her sister was telling her. How did she not know how bad these debts really were. If Jessie only knew that ma and Becca were facing this she would have sold her own house to help ease the burden. 

Becca sighed as she continued on. “Once I had the money from Brock I asked him about Jigsaw. Brock was able to make contact with him and get me an account to wire the money to. After that I thought I was in the clear, all I had to do was pay Brock back. But a few months of paying him back Brock approached me and told me he wanted to get back together again. That if I did he would forgive my debts to him. Of course, I denied him and he got mad. Said he was giving me a month to pay him back. When you walked in on us talking he was threatening to hurt you. Brock said he would make an example of you and if I still didn’t pay up he would hurt mom. I should have told you, I’m sorry Jessie.” Becca was now sobbing as the weight of the world was finally off her shoulders. 

Jessie got out of her seat, walked over to Becca, and wrapped her arms around her. Jessie could feel the anger radiate through her at the thought of Brock pulling this. She held Becca close as she tried to soothe her. “We’ll figure this out, Becca. I promise you that we will get Brock paid off and out of our lives for good.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, kitten.” Brock’s deep voice cut in, making both women turn around and look at him as he strolled into the diner. 

Jessie stood in front of Becca as she stared down Brock who stopped a few feet from them. “It’s after hours Brock. If I were you I would turn around and leave before I call the cops.” Her fists clenched and unclenched several times as she tried to keep her anger from boiling over.

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “I’ve always loved that spitfire attitude of yours. It’s a shame someone else made you off-limits or else I would’ve had my fingers in your pie long ago.”

Jessie pulled her phone out of her pocket and was about to dial 9-1-1 when a gun clicked. Her eyes snapped up to see the barrel of the gun aimed at them. 

“Put the phone on the counter and slide it to me now or someone is going to be hurt.” Brock’s dark expression made Jessie’s stomach drop. Complying with him she slid the phone towards him. “Now since I’m here I want to make a withdrawal.”

“Last I checked we weren’t a bank and the diner doesn’t hold a lot of money.” Jessie sassed back at him. 

Brock took a few steps towards the women and stood toe-to-toe with Jessie. His hand quickly slapped her hard across the face, sending her into the counter. Jessie felt as if her cheek exploded as her hand lightly touched the hot skin. As Becca stood to come to her sister’s defense Brock pointed the gun in her face.

“I know for a fact you have that money you raised with your pie sales in that safe. So we are going to grab that with no further problems.” Becca started to back up slowly towards the hallway that led to the office. Brock grabbed Jessie by her long hair hard causing her to scream in pain as he dragged her down the hall with them. 

Jessie’s hands flew to where his hand was fisted in her hair as she tried to alleviate the hold on her. She stumbled, trying to keep up with Brock as she heard Becca plead with him to not hurt them. As they reached the office Becca went inside and started to open the safe. Jessie tried to get Brock to release her again but his grip never relented. 

He pulled Jessie close so they were eye to eye. “Stop struggling, you are only going to make this worse for you and your sister.” The barrel of the gun moved from her temple down her jawline. Jessie started to shake with fear. Would he be dumb enough to kill her?

“Stop it, Brock.” Becca pleaded as she took all the money out of the safe and placed it in a bag for him. “Look here is everything that you asked for. Please just let my sister go.”

Brock looked from Jessie to Becca. “Bring the bag to the dining room.” He stepped back with Jessie, allowing for Becca to walk by and towards the dining room. The gun now hung by his side and Jessie started forming a plan in her head.

Jessie wasn’t sure what Brock had planned for them but whatever it was there was no way she wasn’t going to fight back. As soon as Becca exited the hallway Jessie pushed her body weight into Brock, sending them both into the wall. Jessie threw her arm between his legs hard, hitting him square in the nuts. 

“Bitch!” Brock howled as his grip loosened and he let her go, his hands flying to where she hit him.

Quickly she ran out of the hallway and was just making her way around the counter. “Run Becca!” Jessie screamed at her sister as she was tackled to the ground by Brock. He straddled her waist as he hit Jessie with the butt of the gun. Her head instantly felt like it was going to explode as she continued to struggle with him. 

Becca ran over to them, trying to pull Brock off Jessie but he reeled back and punched Becca, sending her to the floor a few feet away. Jessie was mad and screaming curse words at him when her eyes locked onto the hand holding the gun. She dove for it and tried to pull it from him. There was no way she would let him get away with this abuse. Jessie leaned up high enough to bite Brock’s hand so hard that she drew blood and he dropped the gun to the floor.

“You stupid bitch! I don’t care what he says I will fucking kill you.” Brock yelled as both his hands wrapped around Jessie’s throat and squeezed. Jessie's feet kicked underneath him, trying to get him off of her so she could breathe but his weight held her body down. Her hands tried to pull his larger ones off her neck but Jessie was no match for him. 

Jessie could feel herself become lightheaded as his grip seemed to dig harder into her neck. Her eyes looked to her right side and she caught the gleam of the gun. Her right hand let go of his hands as she started to reach for it. The world was slowly growing darker by the second. This was how she was going to die. At the hands of this insane man. Would Steve ever find out? Was Brock going to murder them both? Her hand continued to reach for the gun and when Brock’s eyes followed her gaze he briefly let up just enough for her to reach it. Now it was the struggle for the gun as his hands let go of her neck and he tried to pry the weapon from her.

Becca was back off the ground and pulling at Brock once again. Jessie was trying to push the gun left towards his body as he tried to push it away. Brock’s fingers were getting tangled with Jessie’s as they all screamed for control of the situation. Jessie closed her eyes as she tried to put the last of her energy into fighting him. 

Then the gun went off… 

There was nothing but silence at first. It was as if time stood still. Then there was a choked gasp.

Jessie’s eyes flew open and locked onto Becca’s as she stumbled backward away clutching her stomach. Brock quickly got off of Jessie and looked down at a bleeding Becca. He grabbed the money that was on the floor and ran out of the diner as Jessie crawled over to her sister.

“Oh my god, Becca. What have I done?” She looked down on Becca who was bleeding heavily from her wound. Jessie saw her phone on the ground and quickly dialed 9-1-1. Jessie knelt next to her sister and placed her hands over the wound. She was shouting at the emergency dispatcher telling them what happened and their location. As soon as the dispatcher said help was on the way Jessie cradled Becca close to her. “We just have to keep pressure on this wound. The ambulance will be here soon. I just need you to hold on.”

Becca reached a bloodied hand up to Jessie’s face making Jessie look down at her. “It’s okay Jessie. It’s not your fault.”

Jessie began sobbing as she felt Becca cough a few times. She watched as her sister struggled to keep her eyes open. “I shouldn’t have fought him. Please just hang on. Just fight this for me.”

“Jessie, this isn’t your fault. It will be okay.” Becca took a stuttered breath again. Becca’s eyes fluttered as she fought to stay awake. The sound of sirens was growing louder by the second. 

“Don’t talk like that. Help is almost here. Please hang on for me,” Jessie pleaded.

Becca’s eyes start to glaze over. “I’m so proud of you.” Becca gasped, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” Becca took her final breath, dying in her sister’s arms.

Jessie screams echoed in the diner as she tried to wake her sister. “No! Please, wake up for me. Don’t leave me. Please, Becca!” Jessie cried out in anguish, begging for her sister to breathe. She begged God to let her sister survive this. Jessie pulled Becca’s body close to her chest, slowly rocking them back and forth. This was not real. This was a nightmare that she couldn’t wake from.

Chapter 9

[serene-elysium]

My brother and I have only recently gotten back into biking, it's been a fun new little bonding thing, and one of our neighbours apparently saw where we hide the bikes (which we've had for YEARS without problems, so the only way someone would know their location is if they saw us put them back) and went with wire cutters and fucking stole my deceased father's bike

Like of all the bikes to take, they specifically moved mine out of the way to take my dad's old one (the one my brother has been using)

I am actually so goddamn angry. I would have been unhappy about any of them being stolen, but hearing my brother say "they took dad's bike" fucking got me. I'm heartbroken.