#the stress of the strike that started really threw me off and has made the last month pretty unbearable

[prozach27]

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[harlequin-hangout]

For a Mortal Chapter 1

Series Master List | Loki Master List

Part 2 >

Pairing: Dom!Loki x f!Reader

Warnings: Self esteem problems, self deprecation, ⚠️abuse (past, not from Loki)⚠️, minor breaking and entering

Contains: Maybe angst, definitely a little fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: This was inspired by this ask by @michelleleewise​. This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so please be kind. I’m hoping to get better, though inspiration doesn’t strike as often as I’d like. I may turn this into an ongoing series, I haven’t completely decided yet. I hope you all like it!!

“FUCK!!”

Your phone hits the bed and bounces to the floor. You threw it harder than you meant to. Sighing through your gritted teeth, you pick up the device. At least the screen wasn’t cracked, but your case had definitely busted when it hit the ground. You had just hung up a call with your boss. The company wasn’t bringing in cash flow, which meant for the second month in a row, you weren’t going to get paid. At least he had told you that you didn’t need to come into the office until there was money again. You take a deep breath and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as if the pressure could stop the stress and the headache it was about to bring on. 

“God, I don’t want to know how much I’m short,��� you think to yourself as you pull the busted case off of your phone and open your banking app. A pit forms in your stomach as you realize your account is overdrawn by $56.41. Well . . . Ramen again tonight. It isn’t the healthiest, but anything is better than being hungry.

It’s been two weeks since your last conversation with anyone in the small startup company you work for. You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, trying to find freelance work while donating plasma just to make sure you can eat has taken its toll on you. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. The caller ID reads “Darren Albright”. Dammit. It’s your boss.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you answer, trying to not let your exhaustion show through in your voice.

“Hey, Y/N, we need to talk. You’ve barely done any work since the last time you were in the office. I feel like I’m just a paycheck to you, and I’m not okay with that. We talked when you came on board, I have decades of experience in production, but this company is still essentially a start-up and Rob and I both work for free, and it’s insulting that you don’t even try to come in to help out. I always go out of my way to help out friends, and I just thought you’d do the same. I’ve offered you gas money to come out here if you need it, we’re all in the same boat here. I’m broke too. I haven’t paid my mortgage for this month, so don’t tell me it isn’t possible.”

You don’t really process the rest of what Darren says as you stare at the wall in disbelief. 

Not working . . . ? You’ve been working for free for over two months. The only difference is you’ve been working from home instead of from the office. You can’t help it if you live an hour away. Hell, it isn’t the same boat. Darren lives in the office, owns the company, and when you were in the office, you mostly saw him playing around on an art app while you worked. You knew you were signing on to a startup, but you’d been reassured that you’d be paid at least something. You mumbled apologies that you don’t really mean as you hang up the phone. First it was his now ex-girlfriend, Crystal, doxxing you online after harassing you for days on end because she somehow got it in her head that you and Darren were sleeping together. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sure, Darren was tall, but he wasn’t your type at all. The bushy beard just didn’t do it for you. Your type was a bit more . . . sleek. Sleek, dark, put together . . . You sigh as you try to fight back your tears. 

What the hell were you doing? Was this even worth it? You’d worked so hard to break into the world of production. You worked with all three of Darren’s companies, and had built the backend for two of them. You spent every day maintaining those backends, running admin, and doing literally anything he called and asked you for, including finding and making proposals for marketing clients, something you’d had to teach yourself just to be able to do the job. You lost your fight as tears start to run down your face. How could he say those things? You’d worked yourself mostly to death trying to make the situation work, and he thinks you’ve done nothing because you aren’t being paid? You choke back a sob, leave your apartment unlocked,  and just run. You run towards the woods and don’t look back. Branches whip at your skin as you break off the narrow walking path, just wanting to be as far away from everything that’s been causing you to nearly break. Finally, coming to a clearing, you drop to your knees and wail at the top of your lungs. Sobs wrack your form as you let out all the emotion that’s been building over the last months. You don’t like being vulnerable around others, so this is the only safe place you know where you can let everything out.

“Why?? Why am I fucking killing myself for someone who obviously doesn’t give a fuck about me?? Why . . . why am I here? Why am I trying so hard? . . . Why did I think I could do this?” You choke, your self doubt taking control. In all honesty, you couldn’t answer those questions. You’d long since seen a point in continuing to follow your dream career, maybe it was just better to get a regular job. You knew you’d hate it, but at least you knew your bills would be paid.

As your sobs quieted, you wiped your tears on your sleeves and slowly made your way back to your apartment. Nightfall had long since passed. When did it get dark? It didn’t really matter, as the numb feeling across your whole body makes it hard to care about much of anything. Locking your front door, you pull off your now dirt-stained clothes and take a deep breath. You didn’t really remember getting back to the apartment, or much since you left. You just wanted this to be over. For the stress to be gone. And more than anything, for support. You look upwards, and for the first time in years, you pray.

“Please, whoever’s listening, I don’t care. Please. PLEASE give me some encouragement. I can’t keep doing this, and I don’t even know if my dreams are worth it anymore. Please . . . Just send me a sign that I shouldn’t give up . . .” You fall ungracefully onto the bed, not bothering to put on the pajamas that lay on your floor. As you fall into a deep sleep, you fail to hear the soft, almost magical hum that floats through the air and miss the soft touch that brushes your temples. A tall figure kneels next to your bed as you start to toss and turn as your mind turns to nightmares.”

You bold upwards in bed, cold sweat drenching your body. You could have sworn that you felt someone’s presence. . . You rub your bleary, sleep-filled eyes as you look at your phone. 3:47am . . . what the hell were you doing awake? You know one thing, though, once you’re up, you need to get something to drink before you can sleep again. You padded towards your kitchen, but an unfamiliar scent stops you dead in your tracks. What was that . . . Fir trees, sandalwood and . . . leather? You cautiously take the last couple steps and peek around the corner. An unlit candle that had definitely NOT been bought by you sat on your counter on top of an emerald green envelope with “Dear Y/N” scrawled on it in an elegant cursive hand. Turning it over in your hand, you break the gold colored wax seal that depicts two snakes intertwined. Where have you seen that before?

Dear Y/N,

I am sorry to hear that you are not receiving the support or recognition that you deserve. I have learned in my long life that sometimes the only ones we can rely on is ourselves, and if these people do not support you, they are not worthy of your greatness. My Dear, your dream, your passion is always worth your efforts. Do it for you, because it is what you desire and you will succeed, I have no doubt. You are a strong, independent, intelligent person . . . for a mortal. Never doubt yourself, My Dear. Should you ever find yourself in need of one who can see your worth, then just light this candle. I wish you all the best in your pursuits and remember . . . You can do whatever you set your mind to. Until we meet . . .

Loki

The name was elegantly scrolled, even if the word choice was a bit odd. The entire letter . . . Loki. Who was he? How did this get in your kitchen? Your windows had been painted shut by the complex, and you were relatively sure you had locked the door behind you when you came back inside . . . Not that it mattered. The numb feeling didn’t seem to want to leave. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about your own personal safety. Maybe a shower would help you relax enough to sleep. After the letter, you couldn’t bring yourself to crawl back into bed. Still . . . You eye the candle, your hands mindlessly tracing the paper in your hands. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have someone . . . I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? My bathroom doesn’t have any windows. There’s no way anyone could see it,”  you think to yourself as you grab the candle and head towards the bathroom.

The steam feels amazing on your skin already as you get the water near scalding in preparation for your shower. If you’re going to do this at 4am, you might as well do it right. You place your towels and bathrobe on the hook on the back of the bathroom door and glance at the candle. You still hadn’t really decided whether or not to light it. It was a deep green and scented like the forest that you ran into to escape the reality of life. That still didn’t account for the leather and sandalwood you’d smelled, though. Fuck it, at least if some random snuck into your bathroom, there was about a 50/50 chance that he’d just put you out of your misery. You flick your lighter and the familiar scent of pine fills the room. You sigh and step into the steam-filled stall, running your fingers through your hair.

“I really wish you wouldn’t think such things about yourself, Darling.”

You freeze as the deep voice fills the room. He spoke softly, almost as if he were your friend. You whip your head around to see a man in a black suit sitting on your toilet, directly across from the entrance to the shower. You almost want to scream but . . . 

“I . . . Do I know you? I mean I know I’ve never met you, but I feel like . . . I mean . . .” You fumble your words. The man’s sudden appearance should have been the thing to catch you off guard, but it was . . . Him. His features were somehow soft, yet stern at the same time. The green of his eyes almost perfectly matched the candle and stationary. His jawline was regal, just like his posture. The suit was well fitted, and you could vaguely make out the tone of his arms. Not to mention, those LEGS. The look of gentle worry that graced his features . . . for some reason, it put you at ease. 

Wait. The eyes. Could this be . . . “Loki?” Your voice is almost a whisper as you stand in the water’s heat, hands tucked gently against your chest. The man gave a soft smile, and what seemed like . . . Relief?

“Yes, My Dear. It’s me. I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me. I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised.” His voice was comforting, yet his tone was that of someone who was undoubtedly in charge. “I must apologize for the sudden entrance, I didn’t expect you to light that thing so soon.” You eyed the man, with both curiosity and apprehension. When you did not speak, he continued. “You are such a clever mortal, though I would guess that your waking memory doesn’t know much of your dreams.”

“N-no, I really don’t remember when I dream, but what does that have to do with anything? Why do you keep calling me ‘Mortal’? It’s almost as if you’re implying that you aren’t.” Loki smirks, one eyebrow raised.

“Little mortal, I am a God. You prayed, and I answered. Isn’t that what you wanted? ‘Whoever’s listening’, I believe, were your exact words?” You stand there, dumbfounded. “I have seen your nightmares and I must say, you are definitely a capable mortal. So determined. You have so much life in you, why would you give it up now?”

“I . . . I mean, if Darren doesn't see all the work I do, if he doesn’t think I’m valuable, then why should I try?”

“Then tell me, why does Mr. Albright deserve your efforts and your loyalty? What has he done? I see a large potential in you, My Dear, and I would like to offer you something. However, first I must confirm my suspicions. If I may?” Loki motions at your temples. After only a couple seconds of hesitation, you kneel in front of the God sitting in your bathroom. The pleased hum doesn’t escape your notice and you smile just faintly enough that you hope he didn’t see. 

Your eyes flash the moment Loki’s cold fingers touch your temple, and suddenly you’re back in your abuser’s house. 

It was winter, and he was drunk. He had lost his phone cord and blamed you he’s screaming, the bourbon on his breath obvious. 

“You’re a shit girlfriend! You’re a shit girlfriend now, and you were a shit girlfriend when I met you, that’s why you were single. Go die!!” As he pushes past you, he punches a hole in the wall, mere inches from your head. You fight to keep your face still and unfeeling, hoping that he’ll go back to his office and leave you to lock yourself in the guest room. 

The scene shifts, and you find yourself in that same guest room. 

You’re bracing against the locked door with all your body weight. No matter how heavy you try to make yourself, you can feel the door start to budge. You make the split second decision to unlock it and let him in, as it will be much worse on you if he has to break in. You retreat into your mind and try to tune him out as he rants and screams about his right to grab your throat. You had fought him in his office when he had grabbed you and tried to sexually assault you. You got away, but at what cost?

Scene after scene flashes before your eyes, each more traumatizing than the last. Finally, Loki comes back into focus in front of you. You hastily grab the trash can beside the toilet and heave into it, bile being the only thing in your system to come up. You cough, and you feel a gentle hand rub your back as you fight to regain your composure.

“Little mortal . . . You’ve been through so much. You are so strong, and are worthy of someone who can see your value. Stand.” You push yourself up, leaning on Loki for support as you steady your face, willing it to neutrality. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Now darling, we’ve moved quite a ways past that. Shower.” You step into the stall, feeling the warmth wash over you. “May I?” The God reaches for the shampoo bottle on the floor of the shower, seemingly unbothered by his suit getting wet. You sit obediently near the shower’s door, and he sits behind you, gently massaging the product into your hair. He takes gentle care to not pull or scrub too hard. You rinse when he tells you to, and hand him the conditioner. As he works the second product into your hair, he sighs. “I did not realize the extent of your abuse. You did not deserve what that ant of a man did to you. Please, take your own wants and needs into consideration when you hear my offer.” 

You chew your lip, unsure of how to respond. Do you even remember how to do things for yourself? You could take care of your own necessities, but this is different. When was the last time you’d done something just because you’d wanted to?

“I . . . I don’t even know what I need, much less want. Not anymore.” Your eyes never leave the floor of the shower. Loki’s movements don’t falter as he carefully chooses his words.

“Darling, I have been inside your mind. I know your wants, your needs, your fears and desires, your passions and your sorrows. You want someone to dominate you, but not for the thrill or gratification. No, your desire is much less selfish than that. You desire trust. You want to trust someone enough that you feel confident handing over control. To trust that they have your best interests at heart, and will always act with your needs taken into account. Rinse.” You stand, silently mulling what he says over in your mind.

“And what if you’re wrong? What if I want to be the one with the reins?” He chuckles, a small smile playing his lips. 

“Then, Y/N, take those wants into account when you make your decision. However, I can guarantee I am not wrong. You would give up control so willingly if someone had your wellbeing in mind. Just like you did for me. With the shower.”

Goddammit. He was right. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing. Was he telling the truth? Could your outlook be so skewed that basic care and consideration is all you really want? 

“Well then, Darling, now it is time for your choice. Come with me. I’ve been watching your drive and your passion for some time, and you are worthy of my attention. Of my care. Come with me, and let me earn the trust that you so crave to share with another being. I promise, you’ll be safe with a God.” You blink in disbelief. Is he offering you a way out? A way to get away from Darren, from the bills, from not always knowing where your next meal was coming from? Was this truely a fresh start?

“And what if I’m not strong enough to build that trust? What if I’m too far gone?” Your voice is soft, uncertain. Loki gently cups your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him.

“Darling, I know you can do it. You can come back from whatever dark place those undeserving insects have left you. You are so, very strong . . . For a Mortal.” You beam and take Loki’s hand. As his Seidr envelops you in a green glow, you think for the first time in forever that maybe, just possibly, everything might be alright.

[mochegato]

Heroic Deeds

Thanks to @boldlyanxious and @ive-fallen-down-the-rabbithole for the idea

 Marinette was going to kill her roommate.  Because that’s why she was in this situation in the first place, her roommate was too busy to pick up his own damn paperwork.  And she was just too “nice” to say no.  And puppy dog eyes should be illegal.  In fact, that was the next house rule.  No puppy dog eyes.  She has never in her life been able to say no to puppy dog eyes and mean it.  Manon, Etta, Ella, Adrien… no more!  Hence forth they were banned.  It was already a rule with the kwami.  It would just have to be instituted as a rule with humans as well.

But until then, she had to deal with this ridiculousness.  This thief that sounded like he was bored out of his mind, like she was inconveniencing him by being held hostage.  Is it too much to ask for him to be more invested in this than she is?  I mean, she may be the one with the gun pointed at her, but he’s the one that’s pointing it and he’s the one that broke into the office to steal whatever documents he was halfheartedly looking for during the day instead of at night when NOBODY WOULD BE THERE.  

But noooo, this jackass had to do it during the day and at the exact moment when she would be there. Really, what was her luck?  Was this punishment for not wearing Tikki constantly anymore?  She was only supposed to be in this office for a total of a whole ninety seconds. Walk in, grab the documents that were supposed to be ready and waiting for her, and walk out.  But instead she was stuck here critiquing this idiot’s ransacking skills, because that ninety seconds is exactly when this blasé thief decided to strike.  

At least Kate was safe, she huffed to herself.  Kate had been lucky enough to have gone to the backroom for the documents just a few seconds before Idiot Man came in.  Hopefully, she had escaped through the backdoor and had contacted the police already.  Because apparently Kate hadn’t pissed off the kwami of luck like Marinette somehow had.  She and Tikki were going to have a very long, very hissy discussion when she got back home.

And this guy wasn’t. Even.  Paying.  Attention. To.  Her.  The gun was pointed in her general direction, but it was like she was the furthest thing from his mind, like she held the same threat level as a kitten.  But that was his mistake, underestimating her, because this kitten had claws.  God, she’s been hanging out with Adrien too much.  She’s beginning to think like him.  She let out a breath and banged her head against the back of the chair she was sitting in out of frustration and disappointment in herself.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he was ignoring her to focus on his search, but he wasn’t really paying attention to that either.  She would think he was high on something if there were any other signs of it.  No, this just was just bored, like he was wasting time, waiting for the police to show up.  Maybe it’s the ski mask he was wearing that was annoying him.  Who wears a ski mask in the summer?  And… did he just check his phone!  Oh, Hell no!  That was the final straw.

She moved before she could overthink it, sliding over the desk she had moved behind when he came in. She plowed into his chest with both feet, catching him completely off guard and knocking him back into the filing cabinet.  

“Hey, get off me!” he yelled, sounding more affronted than worried.  

She twisted around and kicked the gun out of his hand with one leg, following it up with a punch that would have broken his nose if he hadn’t blocked it with his forearm, redirecting her hit.  She stopped her momentum before breaking her hand on the filing cabinet.  She pulled her arm back instead striking her elbow directly into his cheek.

“What the fuck!” he yelled, holding his cheek and looking up at her like she was crazy.

He reached for his gun, but she kicked his arm and raced for it herself, kicking it under a nearby cabinet. “That was my gun!” he gritted out, rounding on her.  At least he finally looked invested in this.

“I noticed,” she smirked at him, delivering a roundhouse kick to the face.  He dodged at the last second and shoved her leg, changing her momentum and sending her flying toward the edge of the table.  She squeezed her eyes shut as she braced herself for the impact. If she timed this right, she could use the table as a springboard to go back at him.  The table was solidly built from thick, heavy wood and metal.  It had to weigh several hundred pounds.  It would be able to take her weight without moving even a centimeter.  She took a breath to prepare, but the impact was significantly softer than she had anticipated and didn’t give her the bounce back she expected, causing her to end up sprawled on the floor instead of springing back at the thief.  

Before she had even registered what happened, she heard a grunt in front of her and the sound of the table scraping against the floor as it moved.  She looked up to a red helmet looking back at her.  Her eyes flicked down quickly to his chest as if she needed the confirmation the bright red bat there gave her.  He stood up quickly, rubbing his shoulder as he approached her. He knelt down in front of her. “You okay?”  His voice was considerably softer than she would have anticipated from the vigilante considered to be the most dangerous of the bats.

She stared at him for a few seconds, shocked by the tone and to see him there in the first place.  She had been expecting the police not a bat. It was daytime, everyone knew they didn’t come out during the day.  The bat signal didn’t work during the day.  “Miss,” he tried again, his voice taking on a concerned edge.

“Oh!  Yes.  Yeah. I’m fine.”  She nodded rapidly and reached down to rub her leg where the thief had pushed her, more to relieve anxiety than because it actually hurt.  

“You’re hurt.”  It was a comment, not a question.

“It’s okay, really,” she tried to assure him, but he was already up and stalking toward the thief who had started edging toward the door.  Marinette mentally scoffed at his stupidity.  She understood underestimating her, she was an unknown and looked tiny.  But Red Hood was a known entity.  His threat level was well established.  Why on Earth wouldn’t the thief have run as soon as he appeared?

“Hood…” he started nervously, holding up his hands as though trying to placate him.

Whatever other argument he was going to try to make died on his lips as Hood picked him up and threw him through the large, plate glass, front window.  He stood at the window for a few seconds, watching the thief run away. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned back to her.  “How badly are you hurt?”  He approached her slowly.  He rolled his shoulder a few times, almost imperceptibly.  If she hadn’t been familiar with trying to hide an injury, she might have missed it.

Marinette smiled at him.  “I’m not. Are you?  Did I hurt your shoulder when I slammed into you?”

“Are you sure?”  He stopped a respectable distance from her.  He seemed to eye her leg suspiciously, but backed off questioning it. “I mean emotionally too.  An incident like that can be stressful for some people.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Please, that wasn’t stressful.  That was annoying.  And you didn’t answer my question.  How is your shoulder?”

Red Hood paused for a few seconds watching her.  “It’s fine.  You weren’t afraid?”

Marinette scoffed.  “No. The most stressful part of this is I’m supposed to be picking up some important documents for my roommate and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get them now.”

“If you didn’t feel afraid of what he would do, why did you attack him?  You could have provoked him into doing something he wasn’t going to do before,” he gently chided her.

Marinette let out an annoyed sigh.  “You sound like my roommate.”

“Sounds like a wise man. Why didn't you listen?” He cocked his head to the side.

She mumbled something into her feet, not making eye contact with him.

He arched his head closer to her.  “What was that?”  She mumbled something again, slightly louder this time, but still not loud enough for him to understand what she said.  “What?”

“Because he pissed me off.  Okay?” she finally yelled in exasperation.

“What did he do to piss you off?” he asked carefully, because if the guy did anything to hurt her, he was going to hunt the asshole down and kill him.

“He was bored,” she growled.  “He was holding me at gunpoint and acting like I was the one that forced him into the situation and it pissed me off, okay.  I mean the audacity!” Red Hood fought laughing at the adorable scrunched up face she made as she talked.  She waved her arms around agitatedly as she spoke.  “You don't want to be here?  Newsflash, asshole!  Neither do I! I mean, if you’re going to threaten me, put some effort into it, you know?  Am I not worth the effort?”

“You are.” Red Hood answered instantly.  “I mean, you seem like you are… from what I can tell.”

“It’s just disrespectful,” she groused, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she leaned against the table.

“Extremely,” he agreed absently, staring at her pouting lips.  “Lucky for you though.  Seems like he underestimated you.  I don’t even think you needed this knight in shining leather to rescue you.”

She huffed out a laugh.  “I already have a knight in shining leather.  Two, actually, if you count my roommate, which I do.  I don’t really need another.”

He motioned like he wanted to take his helmet off but stopped himself.  He positioned his arm on the table she was leaning on, supporting his weight as he leaned closer to her.  “But are they heroes?”  

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.  “I mean… to me,” she added quickly.  She didn’t need anyone making any kind of a connection between her and Chat.

He seemed to contemplate her for a moment before responding.  “You must be quite something to have so many knights willing to fight for you.  But, maybe you can use another, after all they’re not here right now and I am.  I can be your knight in shining Kevlar instead.”

She chuckled, looking down shyly.  When she looked back up, it was through her eyelashes.  “Yes, you are here and during the day too,” she smirked at him.  “I didn’t think you guys could come out during the day.  I thought sun repelled you.”

“You’re thinking of vampires.”

She pretended to study him carefully.  “So you’re stating for the official record that you are not, in fact, vampires then?  Just regular bats.  Interesting.” She looked away nodding as if in thought.  “I’ll have to let my friend know you’re refuting that theory.  She runs a superhero blog.  The vampire Bats theory is one of the more popular posts.”

He chuckled and she could hear the smile through his words. “We aren’t.  Well, I’m not.  Can’t vouch for Robin though.  He’s definitely some kind of cryptid.”

Her face was starting to hurt from trying to contain her smile. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him.  “Although… you could be lying.  After all, you are entirely covered right now… in the middle of the day… in the summer. That’s a lot of leather for a hot day. It kind of looks like you’re hiding from the sun.”  She shrugged her shoulders innocently.

Red Hood stared at her a few more seconds and she was cursing the helmet for an entirely different reason than she usually did.  Right now she was dying to know what kind of face he was making.  Was he smirking?  Was he frowning?  Was he blushing?  Did she make Red Hood blush!  Was he enjoying the interaction or was she annoying him?  He moved over to the window he had thrown the thief through earlier and stopped a few feet from it.  He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his forearm and exposed it to the sun.  “Happy?”

Marinette looked at his forearm for a few seconds, struck by the muscles that were so defined even in his forearms.  The things that man could probably do with his hands… She walked closer and started to reach out to touch his forearm only to snap her hand back at the last second.  Her cheeks blazed brightly.  She cleared her throat lightly.  “For now,” she nodded as casually as she could manage, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“Don’t feel shy, P… rincess,” he smirked at her. “Feel free to feel freely.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, as much to stop herself from reaching out to touch him as embarrassment. “Probably not a good idea to go around groping people you don’t know so….”

“So,” he started quietly, moving closer to her, “you’re saying you want to get to know me better and then you’ll grope me.” He quirked his head to the side as he took another step closer.  “How well do we have to know each other for that?  ‘Cuz, I’d let you do it now, so it’s all up to you.”

Marinette’s cheeks blazed a deep red.  She looked away to collect herself.  While this was fun and Red Hood’s body should be as illegal as his actions, she wasn’t looking to be another notch for him and considering the speed he was moving with someone he just met a few seconds ago, that’s all she would be.  She took a breath and looked back up at him.  “I’m saying… I should find the papers I was sent here for and get them back to my roommate.”

“Let me walk you home.  Make sure the guy doesn’t come back.  I can check the security of your place too to make sure you’re safe,” he offered in a tone that sounded sincere.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Okay?”  He sounded surprised at her answer.  Most women must not say yes to him, which frankly she had a really hard time believing.

“To the walk, not the apartment check,” she corrected him firmly.  “My apartment is safe.”

“Are you sure?  I can…”

“My roommate made sure it’s safe and I trust my roommate more than I trust you,” she cut him off.  “No offense.”

Red Hood was silent for a few seconds before nodding.  “Okay.”

<><><><><> 

Marinette laid down on the couch for a while after getting home replaying the events in her head. No matter how many times she ran through them, they still didn’t make any sense.  The thief didn’t make sense.  Red Hood being there during the day didn’t make sense.  And Red Hood hitting on her… didn’t not make sense, but it definitely dampened the crush she had on him.  

After a little while, her stomach reminded her she had planned to pick up something to eat after picking up the paperwork, which means she hadn’t eaten since the croissant she had at breakfast and it was now dinnertime.  She let out a groan and forced herself up off the couch.  Maybe chopping some vegetables would make her feel better anyway.

She had already started sautéing the onions when the puppy dog eyed man himself finally made it home.  “That smells great, Mari.  Were you able to get the paperwork?”

Marinette blinked at him a few times before narrowing her eyes and pointing the knife she was holding at him.  “You’re not allowed to do puppy dog eyes anymore!”

“What?  Why?  I mean… I don’t… do that,” he trailed off quietly at the glare she was sending him.

“Yes, you do,” she glowered and went back to cutting vegetables for dinner a little more forcefully than she had originally.

“So what happened that was so bad?” he asked carefully.  He moved to sit on the counter, but made sure to keep a fair distance between him and Marinette, or more specifically, her knife.

“The office got robbed!” she exclaimed loudly, waving the knife wildly.  “While I was in it!”

He jumped down off the counter and ran to her.  He grabbed her shoulders and looked her over carefully for any signs of injury.  “Mari!  Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Marinette scoffed.  “No.  I just started trying to take him down when Red Hood interrupted.”

“Red Hood, huh?”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Yes, Red Hood,” she rolled her eyes.  “Shut up.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly and took the knife from her hand first.  Once he was fairly safe from getting stabbed, accidentally or on purpose, he continued.  “Did you flirt with him?”

“What?” Her cheeks flared brightly.  What the hell!  Why was he asking her that?  That was not a conversation she wanted to have.  It was hard enough to have normal conversations with him and his tight shirts and charming smile and piercing eyes, but him encouraging her to flirt with other people was really not a conversation she wanted to have.

“Well you… you like him, right?  You said he was your favorite and he was a dilf, even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any kids,” he said nonchalantly as he swirled the onions in the pan.

“Yeah, because he could be my daddy,” Marinette muttered to herself, but apparently not as quietly as she thought she did, judging by the choking sounds next to her.

“What!”

“What?”  The smug smirk making its way across his face told her that her denial didn’t come across as innocently as she had hoped.  “Shut up, Jason.”

“So he made a good impression then?” He asked somewhat awkwardly, which was bizarre for him. “You might even want to see him again?”

She smacked him in the shoulder pausing when he flinched heavily.  She stared at him, studying him closely.  That was where Red Hood had been nursing earlier.  Red Hood, who has the same dimensions as Jason.  Red Hood, who had a still healing cut on his forearm in the exact same spot as the one Jason mysteriously showed up with a few days ago.  Red Hood, who knew her roommate was a he.  Red Hood, who reminded her so much of Jason, which is why she liked him so much in the first place.  Red Hood, who was definitely flirting with her as he rescued her while she was the only one… in Jason’s aunt’s office… after saving her from someone who, thinking back, had the same dimensions and eye color as Roy…

“Oh he made an impression,” she said absentmindedly, still staring at his shoulder.

“A… um, a good one?  He did save you, right?  Heroic deeds and all?  Women love a hero,” Jason added casually.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, letting the pieces settle into place.  Finally, her eyes widened in realization.  “You set it up…”

Jason’s face went blank. “I… What?”

“You set it up,” Marinette repeated with more confidence.  “You… Why?”

“What are you talking about?” Jason tried desperately.

She punched him hard in the shoulder.  “Jesus! Fuck, Pixie.  That hurt.” Jason cried out as he rubbed his aching shoulder.

“Good!  What the fuck?  Why would you do that?  Were you trying to scare me?”

“No!  I was… Because… because you liked Red Hood.  I wanted you to meet him,” he said defensively.  He looked away and took a breath.  When he looked back, his voice was quieter, shakier. “You wanted Red Hood and… and I wanted you so…”

“You know, you could have just, I don’t know, popped up on the roof when I was there or showed up when I was walking home.  You didn’t have to stage a robbery!  Think about all that damage Kate has to deal with now!”

“She was remodeling anyway. She needed to demo the entire office so… two birds, you know?”  He shrugged a little too casually to be casual and flipped the onions again.

“And one bat.” He rolled his eyes at her.  “Or you could have just… said something”

“You weren’t interested in me.  You were interested in Red Hood.”

Marinette let out a long sigh.  “I was interested in Red Hood because he reminded me of you.”

His eyes widened in realization.  “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.  And liking him seemed less emotionally damaging than destroying my relationship with you by flirting.”

“You thought I wasn’t interested?”  He looked at her incredulously.  She looked down at her feet, shuffling them awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact, almost like she was afraid of what he was going to say.  He couldn’t allow that to continue.  He turned off the stove and walked up to her slowly, careful not to scare her, just like Red Hood had earlier that day.  He gently cupped her face, softly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to.  He stroked her cheeks tenderly.  

When he finally spoke up again, his voice was loving and reverent.  “Pix, I’m head over heels.  I don’t think you even… no, I know you don’t know how much or you wouldn’t question why I tried talking to you as Red Hood instead.  I love you, Pix.  I love your heart and your humor and your sass and your passion… and your face.  I love that too.  

“And God, your smiles. I love your smile when you’re happy, which is different than your smile when you beat me at UMS, which is different than your smile when you see a little kitten, which is different than your smile when you’re thinking about home, which is different than your smile after you’ve completed a commission, which is different than your smile when I make an amazing joke that you hate.  I love them all and I just want to see any of them, all of them, every day.”

He didn’t realize how close he had gotten to Marinette’s face until he realized the gasp she let out sounded like it was right next to him.  She laid her hands over his wrists.  “Jason…”

“And I really hope I didn’t…”

“Jason!” she interrupted. He looked at her wide eyed.  She smiled reassuringly at him.  “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh God, Pixie, you can’t imagine how happy that would make me,” he smiled down at her, lowering himself so his lips were close enough for her to reach.

She grinned back up at him as she pushed herself up, her lips a few millimeters from his.  “Oh, I think I have an idea,” she whispered before closing the distance.

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[rwrights]

WE'LL BE OKAY - NAT.

summary : nat and you never got along. reasons still unknown, but it was affecting the whole team. steve assigns you both to a mission, with natasha acting harshly. she said something to you before heading off. she got in your head and the aftermath wasn't so pretty.

contents : angst (??) / fluff

warnings : mentions of blood, guns, bullying, cursing and just occasional marvel fight scenes.

NOT PROOFREAD. a/n : my first fic aaaahhh !! i was inspired by a lot of similar fics like this, but mostly by this WANDA FIC WRITTEN BY @/maximons - i suggest you give it a read BCS ITS SO GOOD ARRGH <3

you don’t know how the feud started between you and natasha. you couldn’t tell if it was because of your age or because you were new.

you had quite an age gap with the former assassin, being a striking 24 years old, but according to the russian - you might as well have been 12 years of age.

unlike most of the avengers, you had a decent childhood. it wasn’t filled with trauma, and death, and basically what some of them unfortunately went through. you grew up in the suburbs with your mum and two older siblings. you got all the toys you wanted and everyone loved you! because of that, you were always polite and cheery - it’s what made people like you. you were funny and usually managed to put a smile on people faces ; usually.

natasha found your positivity irking and unnatural. how could someone be so, happy? she felt as if you were shitting rainbows down her throat, and god, did she hate it. how could someone like you even have the guts to be an avenger?

she enjoyed picking fights with you out of nowhere, and as fun as it was at first - the hostility only progressed and became a disruption to the whole team, including you. you tried your best to really become friends with natasha - or at least be civil with her. but the more effort you made, the worse she treated you. all you wanted to do was make it a little easier for the team, you all have enough crap to put up with and the quarreling between the both of you was definitely not needed.

─── donk.

“nat! y/n! conference room one, now!” steve’s loud voice called out through the speakers placed throughout the compound.

you set your book aside before running down to the conference room as you were told. you walked passed natasha, already giving you a sharp glare from afar. she adjusted her speed and basically ran to where away from you. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her as you trailed behind.

you entered the room, greeting everyone politely before sitting down next to wanda, who saved a space for you.

“alright, now that we’re all here..” cap began, walking around the table where you were all sat. “we’ve got a mission for two of you,”

“did you call us here to compete for it? because i am so getting this mission.” natasha stated, pointing at everyone as if she was threatening them. “uh, no.. not exactly. we’ve already assigned the mission to two of you..”

“who?” she asked, wanting to leave the compound immediately and get some action (not the peepee way).

“you and y/n,”

hearing your name, you just froze. you couldn’t help but stare at steve as if he was out of his mind.

“what?!” natasha squeaked. “i’m sorry, but there is no way i’m going with her. it’s probably best if i go on my own!”

“that’s just mean..” you replied quietly, in your seat. you weren’t in the mood to argue, so you tried to contribute as little as possible into this conversation. “cap, if natasha doesn’t want to do the mission with me, i’m totally fine with sitting this one out.”

“oh, don’t suck up and use your y/n reverse psychology on this. it’s not gonna work,” she spat, obviously mad about the whole situation. “nat, i’m being serious. i know how much you’ve been dying to go out, so please. just take it.”

“no, y/n, you’re going with nat. we’ve decided this already.” steve stepped in, trying his best to set his foot down. “steve, i think you know this isn’t going to happen.” natasha glared.

“you either go together or y/n takes someone else.”

“steve! i swear i’m fine!” you argued, seeing how natasha’s ears were practically steaming from anger. “i-”

“no, you know what? fine. enjoy your mission, y/l/n.” she growled as she stormed out of the room. you couldn’t do anything but watch as she slammed the door shut. as much as you wanted to chase after her, you and everyone else in the room knew you’d probably make the situation a thousand times worse for natasha. you sighed and slammed your head on the table in exhaustion.

“we’re sorry, y/n. we thought her need for a mission would make her say yes even with the partnership.” bucky said from the other side of the room. your head shot up almost as quickly as you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“we thought sending you two on a mission together could… make the arguing stop - even by a little.” steve explained, sighing. you laughed at them, did they really think that would work? did they know the obstacles you went through to try to get on her good side? your first few weeks were HELL because of it.

“it’s alright.. clint? what do ya say?”

“always up for a mission, y/l/n.” he smiled, giving you a fistbump.

─── donk.

clint knocked on natasha’s door after the meeting. “nat? it’s me,” he called, nat opening the door a few seconds after.

“can you believe them? they know how much i dislike her and they’d send me on a mission with her? Bozhe mo! (oh my god!)”

“nat, y/n is awesome. it’s been months, it’s getting tiring.”

“oh, please. it took forever to get any of you guys to trust me. doesn’t mean it has to be the same with her.”

“nat, she’s a kid!”

“ugh, don’t say it like that. it makes my thoughts uneasy..” nat replied, mock-gagging. clint glared at her as he playfully shoved her. “you’re so stupid.”

“and oh, i’m going on the mission with her.”

“wait what?! but you’re my best friend, why would you take it!” she exclaimed. “i never say no to a mission, nat. you and i both know that. i thought you did, too.”

“i would’ve taken it, but.. no! i’m not losing this fight.” she huffed as she fell on the bed. “turn the tv on, i need to distract myself.”

he did as he was told and decided to stay and watch with her until dinner.

─── donk.

it was the day of your mission and you were making your way to the hangar. to your surprise, you saw natasha waiting there. you smiled at her only to receive another sharp glare. yeah, what a surprise. you looked away and decided to wait for clint.

not long after he arrived and said his goodbyes to natasha, just as you were going to aboard the ship, she grabbed your wrist and whispered in your ear.

“you’re gonna trip and get yourself shot, y/l/n.”

“what the hell? i’ve barely left and you’re already telling me i’m gonna fuck up?” you retorted, angrily. you weren’t in the right state to panic or stress. especially not before you were leaving. “have fun, y/n.” she smiled, dripping in faux kindness.

you followed clint onto the ship and couldn’t help but shake in fear. great, now you were worried. you didn’t want to fuck up. you weren’t planning to.

“you’ll be okay, y/l/n. i’ve got your back.” clint reassured, seeing the panic clouding on your face.

“thank you..” you mumbled, but natasha’s words never left your head.

─── donk.

“something seems off, clint.” you whispered, looking around and keeping your guard up. “i agree, y/l/n. it’s too quiet.. too easy.” he replied.

just as you were going to reply, someone charged at you from behind, getting a hold of your throat. by instinct, you kicked his shin and flipped him around. “clint!” you called out as you knocked your attacker out.

suddenly, groups of people were coming towards you - fully armed. “clint!” you screamed, pulling your gun out and shooting as many of them as you could. “shit!”

“y/n, it’s a trap!” clint finally replied, making you roll your eyes as you threw your fist at a guy’s temple. “yes, clint, i’m aware!”

“keep your guard up, y/l/n. you can do this!”

“there’s-” kick. “too many-” elbow. “of them!” shoot.

“try to hold out for as long as possible! i’m on my way,”

you looked up to see more men charging at you. “ah fuck,”

you grabbed one of the guns from the guys you managed to knock out and aimed. “clint, i can shoot right?” you asked for permission, not knowing if you were supposed to kill them or just simply knock them out.

“yes, y/n. you can shoot.”

“thank you!”

you silently thanked god for the gun you chose and started shooting at the guards. you quickly threw it away as they ran out of bullets and grabbed two pistols and continued to run and shoot away.

as you focused on getting a certain guard, one of them slid under you, quite literally slipping you off your feet - probably making you twist your ankle, giving one of them an opportunity to get a clean shot of your thigh.

the bullet went through your thigh, making you scream in pain. “fuck!” you shot back at him immediately and slid up onto the wall.

well great, another thing natasha was right about.

“y/n?!” clint called, hearing you scream. the worry in his voice was evident, it managed to make you smile for a second until you dodged another bullet.

“i’m okay!”

no, you weren’t. you could barely stand with your fucked up ankle and the hole in your thigh, but you continued to shoot and fight.

“just.. hurry up, please!”

you used your bad leg to kick a guy down and use him as a ledge. you cursed as you ran out of bullets. there were guns scattered across the floor, thanks to you. you just grabbed the nearest ones and looked back up.

as quickly as you did, a shot went through your shoulder and your abdomen. “gah fuck!” you collapsed on the floor as you tried to control the bleeding. you got up for a second to shoot back at the closest people and went back down. “clint, hurry up!” the pain was too much, the bleeding wouldn’t stop and your ankle looked like a fucking bean. you started to get nauseous, but tried your best to stay up.

“i’m here!” he yelled as he aimed at a few people in front of him. he ran towards you, finally seeing your state. “oh my god!” he kneeled down, putting pressure on your wounds to help with the bleeding, but the blood just kept seeping through “you just said you were okay, idiot!”

“i know, i didn’t want to worry you..” you mumbled. “no, no! y/n, you have to stay awake. come on!” he picked you up and started running away to go back to the ship. “you’re okay, y/n. tell me you’re okay right now.”

“i’m okay.. i’m okay, clint.”

“yeah, yeah, you are.”

you tried making it to the ship, but you were already so tired. “i’m gonna nap, clint..” you said before passing out.

─── donk.

clint alerted steve about you right when you passed out. they were rushing you out to the med bay to perform surgery on your injuries.

“she told me she was okay, steve. i thought she was okay!” clint screamed, he blamed himself for what happened to you. only if he arrived a few seconds before. you wouldn’t have been in the situation you’re in now.

“no, no. this isn’t your fault. neither is it hers, it happens, okay? we put ourselves at risk every time we step out of here. y/n was brave, alright?

wanda rushed down to the medbay, reaching for the door before pulling her back. “wanda, we have to let dr cho do her job right now. she’ll be okay.. y/n will be okay.”

she cried into steve’s shoulder - her best friend was being operated on. you were being operated on! the thought of you getting hurt never crossed her mind because she knew you were strong.

the team soon heard about the incident and let their worries out, obviously caring about you. natasha was confused about the whole hassle.

“vision!” she called out. he turned around and walked towards natasha. “how may i help you?”

“what’s the hassle about? everyone keeps whispering,”

“mr barton and ms y/l/n have returned from their mission, but ms y/l/n has suffered some major injuries and has been in surgery for about an hour now-”

hearing that, she sped to the medbay, thanking vision quickly. she saw wanda, steve and clint waiting around. “no, no, where is she?!” she yelled, making the three of them look at her in shock. “she’s still in-”

she tried running into the room like wanda did, getting pulled back by steve. “natasha, we have to let dr. cho do her job.”

“i need to see her!” she exclaimed, not being able to breathe. “what happened to her? what major injuries?!” she demanded.

“broken ankle, shot through her thigh, shoulder and abdomen..” clint recited, looking down at his feet. “where were you!? how could you let this happen?!” she roared, genuinely shocking them.

why did she suddenly care about you? well, yes, you suffered major injuries, but why was she getting mad?

“natasha! enough!” steve scolded. “this isn’t clint’s fault, and you know it.” he said, sternly. she didn’t reply as she panted. wanda held her hand as support, needing it for herself as well.

─── donk.

an hour later, dr. cho finally walked out of the room. everyone stood up in eagerness.

“is she okay?” steve asked, immediately.

“y/n suffered major blood loss, but we are lucky none of the three bullets hit any major arteries. she has also quite definitely broken her ankle, so i’m putting her on bedrest for at least 6 weeks until you get her up and going again.”

“main point, yes. y/n is okay.”

a smile broke out in all of their faces. “thank you, doc!”

“you may see her now, but she hasn’t woken up yet. don’t be too loud.”

they all walked into your room and stood beside your bed. “she looks so peaceful,”

“she definitely looks better right now than earlier,” clint joked, earning a soft laugh from the three of them. they stood by you for a while until natasha spoke up.

“um.. could- could i be the one who stays with her until she wakes up?”

they looked at the red head in surprise, “are you sure, nat?” steve asked.

“yeah.. i just want to be here.”

“alright,” they smiled softly at her before leaving.

she held your hand and stayed with you, waiting for you to wake up. it took for a while so she managed to fall asleep, holding your hand.

you slowly started coming back, groaning from the late pain you experienced. natasha jumped in shock and saw that you were awake.

“you’re awake!” she whispered, making you turn to her. “natasha? what’s happening?”

“you passed out during your mission. i know i told you you’d slip and get shot.. but i didn’t actually mean slip and get shot, idiot!” she scolded, flicking your forehead. “gah! it was an accident, i was doing fine,”

“no, you have three holes in your body. and not the good ones,”

“nat??” you replied, shocked. “did you just joke around with me?”

“no..”

“you’re holding my hand.. what did they bribe you with?” you asked, quickly getting suspicious. you tried pulling your hand away, but she only held onto you tighter. “nothing! i.. i volunteered. ask steve and wanda! and clint!” she replied, defending herself quickly.

“well, if you volunteered.. what do you want from me? i’m not gonna be leaving the compound for at least 2 months, so you can have all my missions-”

“no, y/n. truthfully, i just really want to apologize.”

“huh”

“i know i’ve made your first few weeks really hard and even after being here for months, i still managed to.. you know.. make it hard for you. in full honesty, i genuinely don’t know why i’ve been so horrible to you. i had a hard time opening up to people - and.. you were just so welcoming and i got scared. not an excuse for my actions, by the way! i was horrible and i’m so sorry.”

“thank you for your apology, i forgive you, nat.” you smiled, squeezing her hand. “i also.. have feelings for you.” natasha added, avoiding eye-contact with you. “you whAT?!”

“i-”

“i like you too! but are- are you serious?”

“yes, y/n… i like you. guess that’s why i was so defensive about.. literally everything.”

“nat.. thank you. for opening up to me. it genuinely means so much - especially after all this fucking time, you asshole.”

“are we okay now?” she asked, hopeful.

“yes, nat. we’re okay.”

[fluffonthebunniestail]

Slip up

Hello lovely people, sorry it's been a while! Also, I've been meaning to change the format to keep reading. Apparently, with what I'm using I cannot do that, but it shall change in due time! Yes, this is another Bakugō fic, I cannot get over myself.

Pairing: Lee!Bakugou/Ler!Kirishima

Summary: Bakugou decided to change up his wardrobe slightly, and that means tighter shirts. With that, Kirishima took it personally.

Warnings: swearing, tickle fic

------

Bakugou was really testing his patients.

And he means really testing it.

For the reason Kirishima has no knowledge of, Katsuki had changed his style in shirts: tight and easily riding up.

This shirts weren't a constant; they would come and go, a switch between those and his usual tank tops.

And in all honesty, Kirishima was a bit distracted. He can't blame himself! Even just opening a cabinet and bam: abs on display. Kirishima then took it as a challenge. For what, he had no idea. It didn't matter.

It was perfect when he and Katsuki was alone due to the classmates going out, and the rest going home.

He looked up from where he was sitting (he was watching something on his phone; half of the time looking at other stuff), and he saw Bakugou walking to the kitchen, getting the pitcher of water from the refrigerator.

Kirishima felt his face heat up at the shirt he was wearing. It was a long-sleeved, tightly fitted black shirt. The hem of it ended just above his navel, and it accentuated the hell out of his figure. Kirishima thought it'd be unmanly to continue to stare any longer without at least striking up a conversation. He got up and walked to the counter Bakugou leaned on pouring water into a cup.

"Hey." He said, a little bit awkwardly to his taste.

"Hey." He responded softly without looking up. Katsuki was a lot more quiet and calmer when it was just the two of them. Yet strangely enough, he was more talkative. Those talks were more personal, and Kirishima loved every single on of them.

"You sleep well?"

"Yeah." He finally looked over, giving him a lopsided smile. Kirishima felt his stomach doing summersaults at the gesture. They began to talk, just talk about whatever came up in their heads. Little annoyances, stresses, and even random stuff on the internet.

Eventually, they began to walk slowly back to the living room. Kirishima didn't know what possessed him to be so bold, but he slipped an arm around Bakugou's shoulder. Surprisingly enough, the blonde didn't shove him off.

Bakugou was taken aback once the hand around his shoulder pulled him down to the carpeted floor, Kirishima following.

"Hey! The fuck are you doing?" The blonde exclaimed as Kirishima straddled him pulling his arms in his. Bakugou sputtered at the movement, and unable to keep the rising heat in his face at bay.

"Sorry but you're really asking for this." He chuckled in response, holding the blonde's hands to his chest.

"For what?" Bakugou asked, voice nearly above a whisper, and eyes transfixed on the other. The tone of voice shocked Kirishima.

"You know."

"What are you doing?" Bakugou whispered, ends of his lips turning into a smile.

"Well," he laughed breathlessly, securing the blonde's hands, pining with the left -hardened- hand, on his own chest, "I wanted to know this for a while now." He got closer to Bakugou's face, seeing his cheeks reddening, and his heart racing beneath the hands placed.

"And what's that?" Katsuki felt himself get a bit giddy, he wasn't the only one.

"Are you ticklish?" Kirishima saw confusion quickly cross over his face.

"Wait wha- BWAHAHAHA!" Bakugou exploded with laughter. Unable to react properly, the immediate and unexpected sensations drilling at his ribs drove him up the wall. He leaned to the left, where his ribs were being attacked, kicking blindly behind the redhead on top. "WHAHA-WHAT ARE YOU DOHOAHAHA!!"

"Damn dude, I wasn't expecting you to be this ticklish." Kirishima chuckled fondly, switching his hand to the right side of the hysterical boy's ribs.

Although there was extreme satisfaction with finding out Bakugou was ticklish, he was more focused on his face. Bakugou had his head back, lost in the overwhelming feeling. His eyes were screwed shut, his nose was scrunched adorably, and his mouth was wide with laughter pouring out. It was such a pure and sweet smile you wouldn't expect from him.

"Kirishihimahahaha...." He giggled as Ejiro poked and lightly scratched at his ribs. His body rolling side to side, at a halfhearted attempt to shake him off. He noticed that Bakugou could have shoved him off at any moment now, but he didn't.

"Yes?"

"Mhmhmpfft- hahaha!" He giggled heavily as Kirishima scratched his nails at the blonde's bare sides. He did a funny dance, wiggling like a worm. "You ahahass!!"

"You're not stopping me." Kirishima pointed out, watching his face get unbelievably more red. He used his index finger nail to slowly scratch up and down the side of Bakugou's stomach. The blonde underneath buck hard and shriek; a wave of light laughter following. "Pretty bad here, huh?" He teased.

"Shuhut- AAHAAGH NOHOHOHO!" The blonde practically screaming with uncontrollable laughter; Kirishima generally drilling his thumb at the side of his stomach. He began to squirm heavily; bucking and screaming. "NOT THEHAHAHAHA!! YOU BAHAHASTAHAHAHAH!" He also started to tug a bit at his trapped hands.

"Alright, I'll be nice." Kirishima chuckled. He stopped, placing his palm on top of the shaking abdomen, nearly bursting out in laughter at the fact it caused Bakugou to giggle. Giggle! He never thought Bakugou was capable of such a cute giggle. "Okay," he cleared his throat, "it's kinda obvious you don't want me to stop. Which is cute, really, but I want the clear to continue."

Below him, Bakugou was catching up with his breath, the red remaining on his cheeks.

"Want me to continue?" Kirishima asked calmy, he got a bashful mumble I'm response. "I need a clear answer."

"Do whatever." He grumbled, looking to the side.

"You sure?" He clarified, he got a light nod. Kirishima just smiled warmly, "on it!" His hand twitched, causing the blond to jump.

He then scratched at the abdomen below in a featherlight manner. He was instantly rewarded with high-pitched giggles and squirming. He scribbled at random places on his stomach; the sides of it, the upper and lower part of his belly, and the center of his stomach that gave him the strongest reaction.

He then began to claw at the center of his belly, dragging out a surprised snort.

"Oh my god, that was so fucking cute." Kirishima laughed, watching the blonde attempt to hide his face in the side of his shoulder, giggling.

"Wahahahihihit- nahahaHAHAHAHA YOU FAHAHAHAK!" He exclaimed when Kirishima began to put pressure on his taut stomach, he squealed then laughed the loudest Kirishima has ever heard. He wiggled his torso, the sensations spreading across his belly making his laughter go at a higher pitch.

"SHITSHITSHIT- AHAHAHAH YOUHUHU ASSHOHOHOHOLE!"

Kirishima could help himself but laugh along with the contagious laughter, especially feeling knees on his back; Bakugou trying to curl into himself. He shook his head back and forth, completely lost in laughter. Kirishima switched it up, going back to light tickling. He stroked one finger at the center of the boy's stomach, making him let out the cutest strangled squeal.

It suddenly stopped, some residential giggles slipping out. He hesitantly looked up at Kirishima who had a mischievous glint to his eyes.

"One more thing I wanna try." He said looking at an expectant and giddy Bakugou, who looked ready to burst into laughter at any second.

He lowered his hand down, spidering above the spiked-blonde's stomach. Much to his amusement, he sucked in his stomach and began to giggle softly.

"I'm not even touching you!" He giggled teasingly, making a mental note to how his tease made him giggle harder. He kept tickling the air above the shaking belly below, the string of giggles never ending.

"Stohohop teahahasing me you fuhuhuhuck!"

"Alright."

Nothing prepared Bakugou for Kirishima to sneak a finger in his navel.

"AAAAAGHAAHA!" He thrashed so harshly, he nearly threw Kirishima off him. The boy in hysterics arched his back; it only succeeded with making it easier for Kirishima to wiggle his finger in the extremely ticklish spot a little more. He reacted harshly.

He was screaming more than laughing; his head thrown back, unable to cope with the harsh tingling feeling that tickled him so intensely inside out. It tickled so, so bad. "I CAHAHAAN'T I CAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

His mind melted, in a daze as he couldn't focused on anything besides him reeling over how much it tickled. He went limp, and allowing himself to just laugh and laugh and laugh.

"This is your tickle spot, isn't it? Holy shit man, you have to be one of the most ticklish person I've ever met." He gave him a break once his laughter quickly got silent. He just tapped around the edges of his belly button, it was still enough for him to laugh. "Wow, you're, like, super ticklish."

"Hehehe! Shut uhuhuhup!!" He let out a near ear-piercing screech when Kirishima tapped at his navel. "Pleahahahahase nohoho!" He was squealing as Kirishima continued, "I'm toouhuahahaha- I'm too ticklihihihish thereahahahaha!!"

"At least you admitted it." He chuckled, letting up. He let go of Bakugou's hands, letting him catch his breath, little titters and giggles slipping out here and there. "That was the cutest shit I've ever seen."

"Ahaha... Gohohod... The hell was that?"

"What?"

"You getting up in my face like that." Bakugou almost mumbled.

"I think you're cute." That statement made Bakugou look up at him shocked, yet skeptical.

"Yeah fucking right."

"It's true!" He added by pinching up and down Bakugou's sides, making him jump and laugh harshly. He grabbed at his wrist.

"Kirihihihi!" He wined. He hiccuped, staring at the redhead incredulously.

"I like you." He blurred out. "Like a lot."

"I guess that's one way to tell me." He laughed breathlessly, panting from his earlier laugh-fest.

"Shit I-", he stopped himself, wiping his hands across his face, "I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have done that I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what got over me, and-"

He was interrupted by Bakugou pulling him down for a kiss.

"I wouldn't have let you do shit if I didn't like you dumbass."

"Oh..." He smiled.

It was a good fucking day.

[touyasdoll]

Some Dom!Hawks x Unfortunate!Reader for ya. Was supposed to write Miruko, but nah. Hawks decided to show up instead. 😅🙄 Needy bastard~

- IR

You had wanted to be a good girl today, but you really, really just couldn’t. You had promised Keigo you would behave if he took you to the office with him, but it seemed like everything in the world was conspiring against you.

You tried to keep calm, counting down and up, naming 5 things and all sorts of little tricks as you went about your day, helping deliver things for your husband and occasionally others. You intended to hang out with some of the analysts or other members of the Support Department for a while, and kept that in mind as the morning went on, but life was not kind to you. By lunch you were done.

People had been snippy, co-workers and civilians alike, coffee was spilt down your shirt when you turned around and crashed into a hovering member of the PR department — she yelled, you bit your lip and apologized, the strap on your favorite pair of shoes broke causing you to collide into a sidekick, gaining the attention of everyone nearby as he “politely scolded” you for “recklessly running around like that”, you were told off by a secretary who wrongly saw you as an intern for going barefoot, you were told off by several people for going barefoot, as if you had a choice when the office was all the way at the other side of the Aerie. All in all, the morning was horrid and as you finally reached his office, you opened the door and threw yourself down on the couch.

“Well, now~ I’ve heard someone’s been a naughty girl today~”

You froze up at your husband’s words and peered over the pillow you were clutching. You couldn’t help the glare that came to your face as you met his eyes, taking in the sharp look. How could he just…

“Fuck you!” you growled out before burying your face in the pillow and turning your back to him. How dare he assume you were causing trouble?! You had promised and done your best to keep it, even with everyone being terrible! You felt hot tears well up, but stubbornly refused to cry.

“‘Fuck me’?” he bummed out the question in a calm, even tone and you knew you had messed up at hearing it. You should just apologize and explain, prove you were being good all day, but you were too angry to be good. Too hurt. You clutched the pillow tighter, stress gripping it. “Not with that attitude. I don’t tolerate bad little girls who break promises, you know, yet here you are. I suppose we should do something about that.”

You stilled as your heard him stand. Your quick, stealthy husband, making noise as he slowly walked to you, doing a very good job at psyching you out, making the air heavier, tenser, in the room. You felt like prey, not a predator as your Quirk, Kestrel, dubbed you. You didn’t give in to the atmosphere of the room, the aura your husband was putting off as he walked over to you.

“Stand up.”Keigo spoke easily, but there was warning and order in his words. You were on thin ice, but you didn’t care. You had been trying to be a good girl and he didn’t care! If he didn’t care, then you might as well be a bad girl!

“No!” You refused, hunkering down.

“Stand up.”

“No!”

But it did nothing as you were easily plucked from the couch and stood on the floor. You didn’t know what else to do but refuse him, yet Keigo didn’t say a thing else. He carefully removed the pillow from your grip, ignoring your pouting, your glare. You made to walk away but he easily caught you by the wrist and dragged you down, over his lap as he fast down on the couch.

“I don’t tolerate bad little girls who break promises, acting like little brats who can’t have their way.”,he stated lazily, a hand on the back of your neck as another stroked down your spine, over your rear end.

“I was—“

His hand squeezed the back of your neck and you shut up.

“I didn’t say you could talk,”he warned, tone still casual. “And I didn’t teach you bad manners. Did I?” The pressure of him stroking down your spine came again and something within you just suddenly dropped the rest of the way.

You gave off an annoyed little growl, emotions still high. Even if you now used your manners.

“No, Daddy.”

“That’s right. I didn’t teach you bad manners. I also didn’t teach you to misbehave,” His voice pierced something in you and you started to squirm in his hold, trying to stand up. It was fruitless as his arms are tightened around you. He repeated his words from earlier, “Yet here we are. I suppose we should do something about that.”

You gulped, internally cursing your decision to even get out of bed today. Your stomach tightened as you felt a hand tug your pants and panties down. The cool air hitting your bare skin felt like a sting all its own

“And would you look at that~? I have plenty of time. right. now.”

Smack! The first strike came so quick it took you by surprise, despite knowing this was to happen, and you yelped. “No no no! I wasn’t being bad today!”, you cried, squirming in place. “Please, Daddy! I wasn’t being bad!”

“Oh, even if you were good earlier, you definitely haven’t been nice any since you came back here,” he reminded, giving another quick smack and then another. And another. It stung and you knew he wasn’t near done. Kei— Daddy was many things, thorough being one of them.

He was going to punish you and good, mark you up and make you remember who was in charge. He had taken the rest of the afternoon off, hoping to have some fun, but really. Who cared if he spent it tanning your hide and then admiring the view as he worked?

You ended up propped up on the couch, your hands bound since you squirmed so much, face down on that pillow you had gripped, with your ass in the air facing your Daddy, red with the marks and signs of his strikes. He was rather proud of his work, his efforts in teaching you well and making it stick. It had taken you a while to remember to count, making him start all over again. He wasn’t pleased, which is why you had a plug in you after all of that, stretching your sore ass and keeping you open with not nearly enough to clench onto. It was also the reason your neglected pussy was throbbing with need. You whimpered as your body shifted. You were not going to be a brat in Daddy’s office ever again!

Hawks smirked to himself as he went over some submitted paperwork. Maybe when he was done with all his things you would of learnt your lesson and stopped being such a little terror (he knew it wasn’t all your fault, but then you had come in with the attitude…). Then he could remind you how good girls were treated when they behaved for Daddy, starting with that wet cunt, dripping onto his nice clean couch. He was… hmm.

Maybe he has to remind you a little early. He really hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast… He stood up, stretching his wings and arms.

“Babygirl, spread those legs some more. C’mon, open up. That’s right, good girl. Daddy missed lunch.”

— End

Oh shit 😳 that last line fucking took me OUT

[vanderlindemorgans]

Mr. Perfectly Fine

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Two weeks after breaking up with you, you're picking up the pieces of your heart that had been broken by your now ex-boyfriend Javier Peña. You want answers, a clear reason as to why things fell apart. The only problem is that Javier refuses to even acknowledge your existence

Warnings: A little bit of period-typical sexism, but not much, Javier being an asshole, mentions of prostitution, some low level typical Narcos themes

Authors Note: So this idea has been swimming around in my head ever since the song was released last week. I already had a Bad Breakup fic for Javi planned but I’ve decided to extend it into three parts! Also reader speaks in English bc I do not understand a word of Spanish other than that one line in Ultraviolence. None of this is beta read, so there’s bound to be a few mistakes - if I get anything really wrong then let me know. 

Part 2 | MASTERLIST

The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. From the moment someone walked in they could feel it, the stifling air of awkwardness surrounding every single person in the room as they pretended to carry on with their work, averting their eyes to the spectacle presented in front of them, a war of agitation rife between two agents sitting across the room from each other as well as the unfortunate Steve Murphy who just happened to sit between you two. From your end it was simple silent fury, directed right across the room to where your partner, or rather, ex-partner, Javier Peña was seated at his own desk, casually leafing through mountains of paperwork and suspect photos as if you weren’t practically shooting daggers at him from across the way. 

He wasn’t doing anything, and that was exactly the problem - you wanted him to do something, say something, anything, if only it would show that he even gave a damn about the situation at all. But he never did. Every morning when he walked into work carrying a black coffee in his hands, his top shirt buttons hanging loose as they always seemed to be and his hair mustled as if he hadn’t been sleeping properly, he said nothing. He walked past you as if you weren’t even there, ignoring your stares and crashing down at his desk, ready to continue the endless chase for Pablo Escobar. And it infuriated you. Oh lord, how it made you burn. With every refusal of acknowledgement he gave, you became even more tempted to march right over to him and strike him across his stupid handsome face. You never did, of course, and you never would. Physical confrontation just wasn’t your style. Nevertheless, the mere thought of such did bring you a small bit of joy to your broken little soul. 

Things had been going like this for two weeks now. You hadn’t expected much on the first morning back in the office after what had happened between you. A part of you wanted him to come grovelling to you, insisting that he’d made a mistake and begging for you to take him back. That in itself was nothing more than a fantasy: Javier Peña was too proud to grovel. If anything, his behaviour shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest. He was the one who broke up with you over a 27 second phone call, after all. 

Despite taking that into consideration, you thought by now you would have heard something from him. He’d have to talk to you eventually since you two were working the same case. Apparently no, because it appeared that he went out of his way to deliver every piece of correspondence meant for you through to Murphy, letting him act as a sort of unwilling middle man between the two of you. You knew that Steve already felt awkward enough having to be in the same room with the two of you whilst this was all going on, so your sympathy for him deepened when he was thrust into the even more awkward position of messenger. Sometimes you swore he made up fake meetings with Messina to attend to or new leads to investigate just so he could get away from the suffocating air of hate around you and Javi. And really, who could blame him?

You felt your nose twitch in annoyance as you trained your eyes forward to him, periodically looking down at various files of intel to keep up the facade that you were indeed working, though you eyes were across the room for most of the time, searching for any sign of emotion on his face. Nothing, zilch, not a single trace, his expression only showcasing general indifference, as if nothing were wrong at all. You gripped your hand tightly around the edge of your pen, thinking of everything you wished you could say to him. How’s your heart after breaking mine, Javi? For your information, ever since you pulled that bullshit on the phone, I’ve been miserable as all fucking hell. Before all that happened, I wanted to try. I was even ready to try to forgive you after that stupid fight, but you just had to make that call. You know what? I’d actually hate you less if you just acted like you cared a little that we broke up. But noooo, you’re just Mr. Perfectly Fine, what with your ignoring me and your casual cruelty, your always showing up at just the right time, and your insincerity, and the way you think everything fucking revolves around you. Well, I’ll tell you something Javi - I’m done! Absolutely done with you and your shit. Jump off a cliff for all I care!

“I’ll be back later on, gonna go follow up on a few leads” your thoughts were cut off by Javier’s abrupt announcement, your eyes gracing themselves upwards to watch him hastily scoop his jacket off the back of his chair and skulk his way out of the office. Every bitter word you wanted to say to him burned on your tongue, though you only managed to settle on a simple yet seething glare while his eyes glazed over you, rushing himself out of the room as quickly as humanly possible. You noticed Murphy look over his shoulder like he was about to say something but it was too late - Javi was already long gone. 

_______

Letting out a low groan of frustration, you slammed the door to your car shut and threw your head back against the seats headrest, the stress of the job and the emotional weight of the day combining to make you even more tired than you would usually be at the end of a long day. Javier hadn’t been back to the office since he left, leaving both you and Murphy to pick up all the work he’d left in his absence. If that wasn’t infuriating enough, the thought of him running around all of Bogotá just to avoid seeing you brought your anger to new unreachable heights. It was annoying - him not being around should have left your mind to be free to do some actual goddamn work but instead, just as before, every single moment he occupied your mind, living there permanently as if it were his right. How much more infuriating could that man get?

Thankfully, the drive home wasn’t any more of a nuisance than usual, since the apartment complex you shared with the others wasn’t that far from the embassy, so that was a small positive at the very least. Once you’d pulled up to the lot you were feeling a lot more level-headed than you did before, and were mainly looking forward to kicking back in pajamas and watching whatever was on TV with the leftover pizza from the night before. It wouldn’t do much to take your mind off everything with Javi, though, you knew that much. Still, a small bit of bliss was still bliss. 

Your apartment was down the hall from Javier’s, which had made it easier for you two when you were together but now felt like another sore reminder of what had been. Sighing heavily to yourself, you kicked the door to your car shut and stuffed the keys into the pocket of your jeans. A minor annoyance, sure, nothing you couldn’t handle though. You wondered if he would even be back right now. He had to be, right? An idea started to creep into your head at that thought, taking root and festering until you had practically talked yourself into doing it already, descending up the stairs with a sense of purpose behind you. Maybe if you showed up on his doorstep you could force him to confront you, make him look you in the eye. Any sort of acknowledgement to what you two had would be nice at this point, and if you had to take action yourself to get him to do it, then so be it. 

The closer you got to his door the more you felt you should turn back, a feeling of uneasiness beginning to form somewhere deep in your chest. This might be a bad idea. What if you two got into a fight again? As much as you wanted nothing more than to hurl some carefully crafted insults at Javi and his stupid gorgeous face, you weren’t exactly up for a full on battle that could result from it. Would it be better to simply go home and ignore your problems a little more?

Once you were only inches from the door was when you started to hear it. At first it sounded muffled, on account of the fact that there was a physical barrier between you and them, and you weren’t quite sure exactly what you heard at first but when you pressed yourself closer to the door you could hear it all clear as day - a woman moaning loudly on the other side, whimpering out Javi’s name and betraying exactly what was going on within the walls of the apartment. You felt your breath hitch in your chest, the world feeling like it was collapsing around you from the very second you realised why he had left early for the day. Unable to stop yourself, you tore yourself away from the apartment door and ran down the hall to your own place, tears falling at a rapid pace that refused to stop. You didn’t know if the woman in there was an informant, or a prostitute, or some random chick he’d picked up in a bar after ditching work for the day. In the end none of it mattered though. All that mattered is that it wasn’t you in there with him, like it used to be, like it should be, and that fact made you hurt all the more fiercely.

Fumbling with the keys to your apartment, you choked on a low sob working your way through the waterfall of tears in your eyes to try and wrestle the key into the lock. Through your haste, you accidentally let them fall loose from your palms and onto the ground, prompting a loud “fuck!” to ring out from your throat, loud enough for everyone in the neighboring apartments to hear. Not like you really cared about that, to be honest. With your hands shaking, you finally managed to throw the door to your apartment open, slamming it back closed with a thud and leaning back against it with your head in your hands, slowly descending to the ground to finally give in to the wave of sorrow threatening to claim you. 

You’d known his reputation before you started seeing each other, that he slept with all his informants and chased every woman who crossed his path in Colombia. Actually, it had made you hesitant to get involved with him in the first place but once you two had bitten the bullet and finally admitted your damn feelings for each other, Javier had ceased with his wild ways, becoming solely dedicated to you and you alone. And sure, you two weren’t together anymore, there wasn’t anything stopping him from being with other women. It felt like a deeper twist of the knife though, what you’d heard from behind that door, and it practically confirmed the sickening feeling that had been building in you since the first day back in the office after your breakup, when Javi refused to even look you in the eye and acted as if you’d vanished off the face of the planet. He doesn’t care about me anymore. 

Moving on had been that much easier for him. While it took everything in you to get up each day, he was doing absolutely ok. More than ok, if the sounds coming from his apartment were anything to go by. He was even already settling back into his old reputation. You should’ve known it was too good to be true - the manwhore of the DEA, Javier Peña actually wanting to settle down with one woman, actually caring about a girl beyond what she could be in bed. You remembered the raised eyebrows when you two had first gotten together: for most, it just seemed so out of nowhere. You’d ignored them all, remembering all the times you’d be tangled up with Javi on the couch, his head nestled into your neck while your heart raced a mile a minute, hearing every sweet nothing and praise he’d whisper to you. Stupid girl, you should’ve known. 

_______

After such a huge revelation, you thought things might’ve changed. In what way they would, you didn’t really know. Maybe the change would be sudden, such as you finally working up enough of a resolve to actually go confront Javier on his shit. Or maybe you’d take a leaf out of his book and start trying to seem like nothing was wrong at all, maybe go out on a few dates with some other guys. One of the Search Bloc guys had been eyeing you up every time he came over with Carillo to talk strategy, maybe you could go out with him. Though you knew it wouldn’t help - unlike Javier, who was actually more than happy with where you two had left things, you weren’t, and acting like it was just to throw it in his face wasn’t really going to work if he didn’t care enough to look over at you in the first place. And even then, the idea of falling into bed with some random man that you didn’t care for all that much in the name of moving on didn’t seem right to you. 

Nevertheless, you expected some form of change to happen the morning after when you came into work to see Javier sitting at his desk, on the phone to someone you couldn’t care less about. But nope. Nothing had changed. You sat down and stared across the room at him, just like you’d done every day for the past two weeks, and he ignored your stare to continue with writing something down on his notepad, just like usual. 

Maybe the change would be gradual, you thought, staring back over at the man in the midst of your ire with one of your coldest glares. And sure enough, around midday Steve had come up to you asking to retrieve something from the evidence room for him. Apparently he needed to look over something but was too busy with his own work to go fetch it - you knew on some level that his excuse was bullshit as it had been a pretty slow day for all of you but sure, whatever, if it got you out of that room and away from Javi for at least a few blissful moments that was fine by you. 

Reaching out for the door to the evidence room, you pushed it open and admitted yourself into the crowded space, twisting around to slam the door shut firmly behind you. Before you were rows of shelves containing every bit of evidence the DEA had accumulated against Escobar - there wasn’t as much as there probably should have been due to the fire that had broken out at the Palace of Justice years before yet the amount contained in that small room was still impressive in size. Moving between the shelves, you scanned the rows of boxes looking for the one Steve had asked for in particular, taking your time with it as there was a small sense of serenity to being in that room. For once it felt like you could breathe. You didn’t have to sit at a desk across from your ex, you didn’t have to go home to your apartment that was literally across the hall from his, you could be alone and not feel suffocated by his ever-present shadow over your life. Though, in some way you supposed, your own memories could still prove just as suffocating as Javier’s own godforsaken presence.

As if by thinking of him you’d magically summoned him, the man himself strode through the door to the evidence room, appearing to be in quite a hurry however once he noticed you were there he stopped, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before returning to their usual stoic glare. You could barely contain your own disappointment at his sudden appearance, letting your face twist into a low scowl as you watched him walk down the aisle you were standing in, his eyes dashing from row to row searching for any place to look so they could avoid landing on you. Anger bubbled within you, a thousand different sarcastic or otherwise snarky remarks coming to mind that you could throw out at him, every one of them becoming increasingly more scathing the more you thought about it. Letting out a small sigh, you forced yourself to push all those delightful insults to the back of your mind, not wanting to become caught up in any more personal drama than you had to. Get the box and go. It’s that simple. There doesn’t need to be anymore to this. 

A minute later your eyes landed on the fabled box you’d been searching for, shoved into a corner and so out of the way you almost missed it completely. You thought of asking Steve what was in the box that he needed so bad when out of nowhere you heard a familiar voice speak up from behind you.

“Listen, I...about what happened on the phone a few weeks ago-”. 

So, it seems Mr. Perfectly Fine has finally decided to break his silence. In an instant you twisted yourself around to face him, quickly taking in his serious expression and stiff stature before your eyes met for the first time in two weeks.“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to speak to me now? That’s a first. I thought you were steadfast gonna ignore me for the rest of my life” you spat, not allowing him any form of politeness or decorum in your reply. Why should you? He’d ignored you for weeks. He deserved this. 

You watched as Javier tensed at your words, clearly not expecting the bite back that you had given to him. There was some part of his expression that almost looked sheepish in a way, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted this conversation to happen at all. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just-” he started with you rolling your eyes and cutting in almost immediately. “Save it for someone who actually gives a shit. Shouldn’t be hard since you don’t seem to care all too much yourself” you snarled, an action which only made him even more tense. 

“I do care, and I kind of always have fucking cared so if you could calm down a little and stop getting yourself worked up we can actually talk about what happened. Can you do that for me at the bare minimum?” he retorted, a harsh edge appearing in his tone that indicated he was already becoming frustrated with your attitude. You knew Javi’s emotions like the back of your hand - he wasn’t a patient man, and he had no time for snark or sarcasm, though only if it was directed at him. When it came to himself, he was more than happy to indulge in a small bit of pettiness. You didn’t much care at that moment though: as far as you were concerned, he lost the right to a civilised discussion when he broke up with you over the phone and then pretended you were invisible for weeks. It’s not like things can get any worse than they are now, right?

“Oh, sure, sure, we can totally talk. How about I start then?” you fired back, every word simmering with venom and dripping raw with sarcastic edge. Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the shelf to take him in, from the creases in his tie to his tired eyes staring straight into you. Wait, tired? You didn’t realise it until then but he had been looking pretty tired lately, almost like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Then again, his sleep schedule had never been quite stellar, so that wasn’t totally out of the ordinary. And he was probably up all night with that woman I heard him with, you reminded yourself bitterly.  “Look at you, so dignified in your well pressed suit, so smug and self-involved, so far above me in every way, so far above that you won’t even look me in the eye or acknowledge my presence. Tell me, Javier, has it really been that easy to forget about me?” you taunted. “Though I supposed when you’re seducing every whore in Colombia into your bed it would be easy, wouldn’t it?”. 

Javier was caught off guard by your remark, not anticipating that you would go so far as to accuse him of returning to his old ways. “First of all, she was an informant, and I had to leave yesterday to go meet up with her. Things ran into overtime and that’s the reason I wasn’t back. I thought you of all people understood that gathering intel is a vital part to the fight against Escobar?” he replied, that last line at the end being delivered with only a little more underlying snip than the rest yet it was more than enough for you to feel around thirty percent more pissed at him. 

You scoffed at his lies, your lip curling into a snarl at his attempt at patronising you. “Don’t patronise me. I’m well aware of the ins and outs of this job, in case you’ve forgotten I’ve been working with the DEA for eight years now, which is why I’m calling bullshit on your pathetic excuse for a lie. You do realise we live in the same building right? I know you were doing more than having a friendly discussion with her in there, in fact, I quite literally heard you two through the goddamn walls on my way back home. And before you try to spin some shit about how it was necessary for the case, you and I both know that fucking the informant isn’t a standard part of procedure. You don’t see Murphy bedding any of his sources of intel, do you?”. 

“Murphy’s married, princesa” he deadpanned, throwing in that little nickname he had for you that two weeks ago would have made your heart flutter but at this time and in the context he used it only soured your mood further. “That’s besides the point. You’ve been acting like I never even mattered to you at all, and it’s honestly making me wonder if I ever did? Especially since I apparently didn’t deserve the dignity of a proper breakup and got a 27 second phone call instead. Tell me, when did you change your mind? I thought I was supposed to be the one you were waiting for all your life. Guess that was pretty easy to change, wasn’t it?” you snapped.

“Hermosa, can you just fucking listen for one minute?! God, you’re impossible sometimes” Javier shouted, that infamous temper of his rising towards the surface at a rapid rate. It was only a matter of time before he spat something out that he would no doubt regret. In your own haze of anger though, that fact didn’t register with you at all - you only saw red. If you had to scream back at him to finally pull some answers out of the man, then so fucking be it.

“No, how about you listen for once! I know we had that big fight but we could have just talked. The next day when you called me up I was ready to forgive you for being a complete ass. And what did I get instead? ‘I’m sorry, I think we should stop seeing each other’ and a dead dial tone after that. I can tell the only reason you’re apologising today is just so you don’t have to feel like the bad guy in all of this. So what’s the truth? Why were you so ready to throw away a whole relationship over one night of terse words?” you screamed, not caring that you two were at work and anyone could pass by outside and hear you two argue. With the way you both were shouting, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire building could hear your screaming match with Javier. None of that mattered to you though. The only thing that mattered was the truth. 

You weren’t the only one refusing to hold back in any of this: any lingering spark of politeness had vanished in Javi, his eyes turning dark with searing anger you had only seen in him a couple of times before. “You want to know why? You want to fucking know why? It’s because you’re a fucking pain to deal with. You may be a fantastic agent but god you can be so stupid sometimes. You’re too reckless, you throw yourself into danger too willingly with no consideration for anyone else. Did you ever stop to think what would happen to the people who cared about you if you died? Do you even give a shit about the people trying to protect you?” he confessed, fury burning with every word that came out of his mouth, his admittance making you flinch. It was just like he said during your last fight, the one that led to him dumping you in the first place. 

Everything he said from that night came rushing back to you, remembering how furious he’d been at you for what had happened during your last raid together. You could see that underneath it all he was concerned for your safety, a gesture that was usually sweet but frustrated you that night as you felt something more akin to a porcelain doll than a capable agent in his eyes. Just because I’m your girlfriend, doesn’t mean you can treat me like I need to be protected. I can handle myself just fine. That was what you’d said to him that night, which should have been the end of it but somehow as the argument went on things got more and more heated that by the time he’d stormed out of your apartment neither of you could remember what had started it all. 

What took you by surprise was that apparently he was still stewing about this, for some reason not wanting to believe in your capabilities as an agent and that alone made you more pissed at him. “I don’t need to be protected, Javier. I’m a woman, a DEA agent for crying out loud, not a flower! I’m more than capable of handling myself, I was literally trained for this! Nobody else here seems to have a problem with how I approach things so maybe the issue isn’t my method of attack but the fact that you’re a paranoid asshole?”. 

He raised a single eyebrow back at you, looking somewhat skeptical of your claim but more so angry that somehow you two had managed to circle back around to the very thing that had started this whole mess.“Really? Because our last raid you were throwing yourself into the fray as if it were a suicide mission. It was a miracle you only ended up with a minor sprain to the wrist. Those men, the sicario’s, they don’t fucking hold back, one wrong mistake means the difference between life and death” he snapped.“And you know what? After constantly stressing over your safety every minute I was done. If you wanna end up with a bullet between your eyes, be my guest”.

The second those words slipped from his lips, he knew he’d fucked up. As the tears started to form in your eyes you could see him freeze up, his burning temper that had caused him to be so hateful before starting to slowly seep back, replaced with remorse and a hint of panic if you squinted. Although that didn’t matter much right now - his venomous words were rattling around in your brain, acting as a metaphorical hammer that took the final swing towards your damaged heart. Apparently what you heard through the walls the night before hadn’t been enough to break you completely, since there was still enough left of your heart for the rest of it to be shattered by his callous cruelty. 

Forcefully swallowing down your cries, you wanted so badly to disappear from the room. You wanted to melt into the floor, to run away and go find one of Escobar’s men and gloat about all you’d done to try to stop him so you could feel the mercy of a fatal gunshot wound to the head. All the pain you had felt previously paled in comparison to the knife that cut you then, the tight feeling of your throat closing with every word you forced out. “So you were lying. You don’t care about me at all. You...you think I’m stupid. And reckless. And...not able to handle being here…”. 

“Shit, princesa, that’s not what I meant, I-” Javier started, desperately scrambling to fix the mess he’d caused, however, you weren’t going to let him. He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it. Any hope he might have had of making things right was now thrown straight out the window. No more chances. Not anymore. 

“I think that’s exactly what you meant, Javi. Well, you got your wish I guess. I’ll get out of your life for good” your voice wobbled as you spoke, the next few minutes becoming a blur from when you’d pushed past him and ran out of the evidence room, hearing him call your name behind and not bothering to turn back to face him, running through the halls past different agents and members of the DEA, your hand shielding yourself in a pathetic attempt to save face. Somehow you’d managed to make it out to your car, throwing yourself into the driver's seat and jamming the keys into the ignition, your mind going in a million different directions. Your first thought was to go back home, though you knew that you’d have to hear Javi come back later, probably with yet another woman he picked up. You didn’t exactly have any friends in Colombia - with your line of work there hadn’t been exactly a lot of time to sit around and mingle with people, and truth be told you wanted to avoid people at all costs right then. Without any idea as to where you might be going, or what you were going to do, you pulled your car out of the parking lot and slammed on the gas to get you out of there, the world surrounding you not registering to you anymore and every sound becoming a rush against your ears that you paid no mind to. 

One thing was for sure - you weren’t going to give Javier a single drop more of you. Your time, your mind, your energy, your tears, nothing. He’d already proved himself to be a lying sack of shit who didn’t care about you, so as it stood, you wouldn’t care about him either. Like the end of a tragic tale, everything had crashed and burned, and now that you thought about it more, maybe that was how things needed to be. 

Goodbye, Mr Perfectly Fine. I’ve been Miss Misery for the last time. 

Permanent tag list (if you wanna be added shoot me a message):

@greeneyedblondie44​

[bts-weverse-trans]

201125 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - V

V: “I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.25

During V’s photo shoot, he’s wearing a different expression in every photo on the monitor. They create a tension and an anticipation because we have no way of knowing what he might do even one second later. But the result is cool from start to finish. It’s V.

How are you doing these days? It’s been a long time since you were able to see your fans. V: I’m not over-stressing about how I can’t meet the fans face to face right now. I just want to see them when it’s safe to meet. I think now, I can wait until then.

As your song says, “Life Goes On.” You decided to keep going on with your life. V: We have to move on. We can’t feel defeated forever. I felt a lot better after making some songs.

Other than working on “Dynamite,” you’ve spent very little time away from home. How do you pass the time when you’re by yourself? V: I really like just spacing out, so I’ll sit in my room doing nothing for hours. I could try putting on a movie, but then I couldn’t concentrate and would just zone out. When that happens, it’s kind of like I’m living without a thought or care in the world. Maybe I should make a song about all of this someday. Probably call it “Spaced.” (laughs) Anyway, these days I’m looking for ways to keep myself happy.

Have you found anything? V: Well, I’m listening to LPs lately. It’s getting to be Christmas season and I love snow, so I bought two or three Christmas LPs to listen to. I’m also listening to old jazz songs by Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. Frank Sinatra is cool, like chilled wine; Sammy Davis Jr. is crazy talented. (laughs)

So that’s the type of performer you find cool. V: Those two were also a big inspiration to me while we were working on “Dynamite.” Sinatra has all this jazzy body language, but he also threw some disco in there. And I imagined how Sammy Davis Jr. might dance if there were a mic on stage and he had to dance around it. They were a lot of help when I was finding a way to be upbeat and cool at the same time in “Dynamite.”

I guess making “Dynamite” must have been some consolation even when you couldn’t meet fans due to COVID-19. V: We couldn’t put on a concert and couldn’t see ARMY, so we were feeling more and more drained. It seemed like an endless battle. We really wanted to see ARMY feeling better, so we had to get back up on stage and make another album so that together we could beat this thing. I want to be the friend who’s always cheering ARMY on, but there aren’t many ways to make them feel better.

How was the whole “Dynamite” experience? You made it to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 and also had a chance to perform in a variety of different styles. V: Shooting the Tiny Desk Concert was a very natural process, which was nice. But actually, with the situation being what it is, we couldn’t really feel much. The day the news came out was of course thrilling. It was great, actually, all of us calling each other and some of us laughing and others crying: “We haven’t gone down the wrong path after all! Turns out we had a chance—it really was possible!”

While you were performing in “Dynamite,” you were also the visual director for BE. I’m sure you were unimaginably busy taking photos, but were you able to communicate well with the other members? V: We communicated smoothly, and I listened to all of their concept ideas and I organized everything around that. If we tried something too natural, it wouldn’t be conceptual enough, so we did our best to strike a balance.

You had everyone sitting in the middle, with the set arranged symmetrically around you. V: That was made possible thanks to everyone having their own ideas. There was no overlap between items, which actually allowed us to create a sense of unity by placing all these different props symmetrically. It wasn’t intended to be symmetrical; each member really did choose something unique.

In your room, you included a violin and a photograph. V: That’s a picture I took. I like photos and drawings, but if I had used any art then I would’ve been using that one particular artist’s work, so I thought I’d better use one of my own photos. I ended up choosing the violin because I learned how to play it but also because I enjoy classical and jazz.

So how do you feel it turned out? V: I made it, so naturally I like it. (laughs) Part of me thinks I should’ve tried something more conceptual. BE was supposed to give off sort of a magazine or poster feel since we didn’t shoot many of those, but it ended up having more of a natural feel to it. But I did think that the next time we try to make a photoshoot conceptual we should move away from that natural look a bit. The group explained their ideas clearly and they were simple enough to do, so I think it all went really smoothly.

It sounds like there were no problems choosing the songs for BE. How did you feel recording your parts on the other members’ songs? V: I like “Dis-ease,” which Hobi hyung wrote, but stylistically it was challenging. It’s really far from my own style so it took a long time to get used to. “Fly to My Room” used to be my favorite song, but it was also the hardest to sing. It was okay at first, until Jimin jumped in.

What about Jimin? V: Because I had to keep up with Jimin, the song went up maybe three keys. I thought I would die. (laughs) It started out as my favorite song, but it was just way too hard to sing.

But why did you have to sing that way? V: Jimin said he was sorry, that he couldn’t go any lower. (laughs) When I first heard the demo version, the key was perfect for me, so I thought it would sound great and I should definitely do it. But then Jimin said he wanted to do it too, so I said, “Great, let’s do it together.” Turns out we went up three keys. So I said, “Hey, what’s the deal? Should I just give up?” But, well, somehow it all worked out in the end. It was a happy ending. (laughs)

People might be able to hear that part better because it’s so much higher. (laughs) The tone of your combined voices and the way they contrast is really impressive. V: Yes, but all that aside, it was quite the struggle. (laughs) And the chorus is really long. I think it repeats, what, four times?

Yes, it feels like the chorus never ends. The production style is very unique. I like how the emotion is carried through the whole way. V: I agree, but it’s so long. The chorus turned out crazy, like I was kind of beating the melody into people’s ears. (laughs) The chorus is good, but the whole song’s melody is really catchy. Whenever I heard the beat, I was totally into it. The way the vocals pick up on the beat and the melody was so original and fun, I just had to do it.

What instructions did you give to the other members when they were singing on your song, “Blue & Grey”? V: I didn’t really have to give them instructions much. I told them it would be nice if they could think of all their problems and then try healing those wounds with their voices, since if they focus on those emotions, there’ll be more feeling in the song. They all did a good job expressing the emotions I wasn’t able to.

It seems like you intended “Blue & Grey” to be a melancholy song. I heard you had originally planned to put it on your mixtape. V: I wrote “Blue & Grey” when I was at my lowest point, when I was actually asking whether I could keep going with my work or not. Even the fun parts of work became a chore, and my whole life felt aimless. “Where do I go from here? I can’t even see the end of the tunnel.” Those kinds of thoughts hit me hard.

Was there a reason for that? V: It was when work was a major challenge. When I’m happy, I want to work, and when I’m happy I can put on a smile and see the fans, but there was just so much work to do. I’m an easygoing, you know, laid-back person, but I was stretched too thin and I was starting to sputter. What I mean is, I was having a really tough time, and thinking, “What’s waiting for me at the end? It’s important to be successful, but I’m also trying to be happy, so how come I’m not happy right now?” That’s when I started to write “Blue & Grey.”

So writing the song was sort of your way of bringing yourself some peace of mind. V: There was a time I was going through something like this. I was having the toughest time, but I couldn’t keep carrying that feeling around with me. Instead, I could use it as a kind of fertilizer. So I took care of that feeling by constantly writing it down in my notes. I just kept writing everything down, and when finally I felt like I wanted to try writing a song, I did. After the song was finished, I felt a sense of accomplishment, and that’s how I was able to let go of “Blue & Grey.” That was one way I wanted to try getting over my problem.

The songs you make or sing solo on all have similar images: night; loneliness; snow. V: I like nighttime and the late-night air, and when it snows, too. I liked those things since way back when, but lately I feel things like snow and the night air keep me alive. They may just be another part of normal life to other people, but to me, they represent very special moments.

That makes me think of the ending from “Blue & Grey”: “After secretly sending my words up into the air / Now I fall asleep at dawn.” V: I don’t really sleep well. I toss and turn and get caught up in a lot of thoughts. Even when I turn out all the lights, I can see everything clearly. I close my eyes, but all my thoughts spread wide open. Then I’m sleepy at work, and staring off into space when I’m alone, with bags under my eyes, but if I want to avoid that then I really have to sleep. Except, with the way I am, it doesn’t allow for it. I wrote about that in the first and second verses; a feeling like, “When I’m stuck thinking like this, everything is grey, and I’m all blue.” I wrote these feelings out as a song, and now that I’m thinking about it again, I’m actually over it. I feel a lot lighter. I sent my words out into the air, and now I fall asleep at dawn. You’re supposed to sleep at night, but I’m sleeping in the morning again. So I say “good night,” but it’s not actually a good night. “I pass out because I’m exhausted” kind of thing. It’s the emotions I felt in those moments that I wanted to express.

What do you hope hearing about that feeling will do for listeners? V: Rather than just some stranger telling them to cheer up, I think it’s better to say something like, “You seem depressed lately,” or, “Seems like these days it’s tough for you to perk up.” “Blue & Grey” is the same: “You’re depressed lately? Me too. We’re in the same boat. Wanna talk about how you’re feeling? You wanna feel better, right? I know, but sometimes it feels like you’re being washed away by a whirlpool of stress.” I want the listeners to hear me saying that to them.

It’s important to express your emotions right away when they’re so overwhelming. V: Yes. I usually write a lot of songs when I’m feeling emotional, but these days I have so many different things to do that I can’t really write anything. I tried to write something before when I had a little time, but nothing came out because the feelings I had were already gone. So I tell myself, “You gotta write a lot when you’ve got the feels!” (laughs) And then I open my notes app and come back to old notes, like, “Ah, so that’s how I was feeling back then? I see. Well, that’s how I used to be, I guess.” So I tried to write “Blue & Grey” quickly, as soon as a big feeling came on.

Then it’s important to revisit those feelings when you’re producing a song or choosing which songs to release? V: If you can’t bring the feeling back, you can’t make the song, either. I release a song if I feel it expresses who I was and how I felt at the time when I wrote it. Even if we record it perfectly, if the result sounds artificial, I would rather release another, more honest sounding song instead, even if it’s not perfect.

Are those the kinds of songs you selected for your mixtape? V: Um … I don’t know. This is my first mixtape, you know, so I feel a ton of pressure about it. I’m thinking all the time about what kind of album I should make so that I can feel satisfied with it. The title track is the title track, but everyone also says to just leave it as it is, but I keep getting the urge to keep putting in more and more.

You usually write and choose songs based on your emotions. Maybe the pressure to make your first mixtape comes from you having a hard time with that. V: I think it still has a long way to go. Maybe it’s because it’s my first mixtape, but it’s so hard. And I feel like it’s a little lazy. People tell me just to put it out and see how it does, but I’d rather know what needs to be fixed before I release it. I also don’t want the title track to be depressing. I want it to be positive and help people beat those depressed feelings. But it’s not easy.

That sounds a lot like what the members conveyed with “Life Goes On.” V: I think we showed the current situation in a very straightforward and honest way. We’re still going, going, going. And the going is tough. But it doesn’t end here. I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together. I hope we’ll all be happy in the future and keep on doing our own best, cherishing our hope for our happy future.

Trans © Weverse

[ha-hatdog]

all in a day's work / daisuke kambe

somebod requested a badass reader? sorry for this very late update. online classes is kicking my butt. you wanted either a scenario or a headcanon so i decided to make both. long scenario/headcanom mashup ahead.

requsted by anon: Hii!! I just want to say first of all, that I just discovered your blog and I just fell in love with it, keep going you’re amazing❤️❤️ soo can I ask for a Headcanon or scenario (it’s up to you) where Haru has a female friend who works in modern crimes prevention and is really badass (like she knows how to fight and all that stuff), so one day she helps Daisuke and Haru in a investigation in which a fight starts and Daisuke gets impressed by her abilities and develops a crush on her (????)

UNEDITED

__

It was another mundane morning for the the Modern Crimes department. The room was oddly colder, and the civil servants occupying the compact and simple space secluded themselves with their own businesses. Mahoro Saeki sat on the couch partaking in an unhealthy snack she had shipped from a foreign country, Kamei Shinnosuke was browsing through the internet and more than once using to his advantage the global connection that comes with his access to the computer in order to satisfy his habits and indecent hobbies, Yumoto Teppei tuning in to the occuring horse race in an international channel in his device, Nakamoto Chosuke merrily bading his time reading through documents of recent illegal activities assigned to his care, Kiyomizu Yukihiro fiddling with yet another craft he made out of wood and glue, Kato Haru awaiting the telephone to sound off and have another indiviual summon him for a petty crime, and Kambe Daisuke seated far from the othere, legs crossed and chin resting on his knuckles as he appraised the tranquil area.

Haru slammed his hands on his desk and threw his head, moaning in disdain. "Why isn't the phone ringing?" Whined he as his posture was regained after a moment or so. His eyes, lit with pure frustration and impatience, glared at the telephone, as though threatening without verbalizing his objective would somehow make it ring. "Come on, ring, you stupid phone. How come you always ring whenever I don't want you to and don't when I do?"

"It's a slow day." Remarked Kamei, not takint his eyes off his computer as he regarded his colleague. "Try to enjoy it. You can have all your action some other day."

Haru leaned against his chair, back sliding against the backrest and the back of his neck hitting the edge of his leverage. "Not everyone has weird hobby to keep themselves entertained." Countered Haru, and a pout formed on the blond male's lips at the comment. "This job is what keeps me from going insane."

The offended male turned his swivel chair to face Haru, face scrunched with the same attribute he exuded, "Oi, don't say it like that. It's bad if you describe it like that."

"It's weird without even having to add the adjective." Saeki chimed in between her chewing, humming as the flavor of the chip formerly cinched in the possession of her fingers travelled to her taste buds.

Kamei whipped around to her position, shoulders tensr with the taste of truth and reality, both of which ignored in favor of living in bliss. "It's nor weird. It's perfectly normal for men to be looking at those . . . sort of inappropriate . . . videos." His words trailed off as he came to realization that his own defense betrayed him.

"I agree, but not at work." Haru simply retorted. "Would you want to see me cooking a whole feast inside the precint?"

Kamei looked up in ponder, mouth curling as his thought process stuttered before he presented his inquiry, "Do we get to taste the food you made though?"

Haru stared at the blond man with an impervious mask decorating his appearance, unimpressed with how the man broached the metaphorical event served to him. "Never mind." Shaking his head with amicable dismay, Haru turned his seat to a half circle, arms taking space upon the the armrests. His line of sight crossed over the facile yet minimalistic design of their room, the dull colors of the walls an addition to his disinterest until it landed on a brooding and well vested man.

The referred individual had boredom etched all over his striking features, the lack of events occuring in the Modern Crimes he could invest his time in had him in a bad mood although showcasing it to his colleagues was not his cup of tea. He and Haru were different, and how they handle themselves in this patience consuming day was one of them.

"I'm surprised you're still here." Haru conveyed with a vestige of astonishment. Truly the older man had no such ability that could understand the complexity of his wealthy counteepart. Most days, whenever days were a little too slow for his liking, he would up and retreat back to his home (mansion seems more of an appropriate term to refer to his household) but lately, he had been spending more time in the precinct, and Haru did not know how he should react to this development, or devolvement. His comment floated in the density formulating inside the office, and everybody present swiveled their heads to await his response. "I thought you'd be back in your house now. No cases today, it seems. No games to entertain yourself with today."

"Tell me something I have yet to know, Inspector Kato." Retorted Daisuke, and a tick mark grew on Haru's forehead, but his displeasure to his rude counter was ignored as Daisuke brought his fingers to his ear. He spoke, enough for others to hear his statements. "HEUSC, locate the nearest and most recent crimes occuring within the area."

Haru rose from his seat, alarmed. "Oi, what do you think you're doing?"

Daisuke did not respond to Haru and awaited his butler's relay of information. It did not take more than a few seconds until it has accumulated enough information to submit to his master. "A few streets away, a murder of two took place in a bar called Denyr. Investigation is in process currently."

Daisuke removed his hand from his earpiece and looked towards a flabbergasted. "You heard HEUSC. Let's get going." Daisuke stood up from the couch, dusting himself off before making his way towards the door.

"Wait a minute," Clamored Haru, and Daisuke looked over his shoulder to gaze at him. Haru gritted his teeth, irritated. "You can't just up and go and do whatever you want! This is not your call! We weren't called so we'll just disturb everyone else who's already there."

"Aren't cops allowed to interfere in crimes or disturbance in peace whenever they want? It's their job." Said Daisuke. "And besides, you're just as eager as I am to do something other than waste the entire day waiting for the phone to ring." Then he frowned. "Unless, I'm mistaken, of course. I have no qualms leaving you here. I'm sure you'll be useful for warming up your chair for tomorrow."

Haru growled at him. "You stupid . . . " He grunted and took his jacket off his chair. "Fine! I'll go with you, just to keep you in check!"

“Wait a minute,” Exclaimed Saeki, causing Haru and Daisuke to turn just as the latter had began turning the doorknob. The pink haired female abandoned her seat in favor of giving them a standing and patronizing narrowed glower. “Haru, aren’t you forgetting something today?”

Haru looked up in thought, trying to recall what Saeki was implying. Nothing significant manifested in his line of thought and he turned to his colleague with a frown conjuring in his mien. “Uh, I don’t think I’m forgetting anything.” Answered Haru.

Daisuke grunted, displeased by the interrupting. “Then let’s get going.”

Daisuke pushed the door open and stepped outside. Haru was following suit, shrugging his jacket on when Saeki called out for them once more, particularly the older officer. She had her arms crossed, an unamused pout forming on her brims. “Haru, don’t be stupid!” Clamored she. “I can’t believe you forgot what today is!”

Haru let out an exasperated sigh. “I honestly can’t remember what makes today so important.” Said he. “What is it?”

Kamei rolled his swivel chair back, making sure to reveal himself from any obstructions blocking his form. “Eh? You of all people forgot (Your Name) is coming back?” He conveyed and whistled right after. “That’s surprising, and disappointing. I’m sure she won’t be thrilled knowing you’ll be the last one welcoming her back after her hospitalization – her best friend, her partner in crime.”

Haru’s face fell upon acquiring the information relayed to him. His mind refreshed, finally remembering the time when you took your time from resting in the hospital just to tell him you were soon to be discharged after the outcome of you recklessly electing to throw yourself in front of him when the perpetrator pulled the trigger and shot a bullet his way. You were fortunate enough to have the cylindrical metal projectile imbedded nowhere near any of your vital veins, but due to your blood loss as well as the stacking strain and stress in your body forced you to be admitted in the care of the hospital. Haru was sure you were not supposed to move when you selected to take your phone and call him because he can hear the nurse in the other line scolding you, telling you to end the connection and to rest easy for the remaining week. He could only miss you more – he knew how much you hated doing anything but police work. Haru couldn’t believe he forgot about that since he distinctly remember hardly being able to be consumed by sleep when excitement for your return filled him.

“Shit, it’s today.” Cursed Haru as his shoulders dropped. He slapped his palm against his forehead, groaning. “My God – how can I forget? I’m the worst partner ever.”

Daisuke glanced at Haru, bemused. This was the first time he had heard over this (Your Name) woman. To him, Haru was always a lone wolf who preferred to be alone in his work unless he was required to have a companion with him. Or maybe because it was loyalty to his said partner kept him from going to missions with another. Daisuke looked back at Saeki and Kamei, “Who’s (Your Name)?”

Haru wanted nothing more than to hide your existence from Daisuke. You already had so much in your plate and having a rich bastard interpolating with it was more than you can handle, especially after being hospitalized for quite a while. But it was inevitable for the two of you to meet seeing as Daisuke seemed to be taking a strong liking with playing cop and were in the same department as him. So resigning with the concept of keeping you away from Daisuke, Haru let out a deep sigh. “(Your Name) is another cop in our department. She’s my partner.”

Daisuke blinked at him. “Someone can actually put up with you?”

Haru angrily show his fist to Daisuke, irritation swathing his figure. “What was that? I should be the one saying something that! I don’t know how Suzue-san can put up with your rich ass!”

“Maybe if you’re rich, you’ll know.” Countered Daisuke.

Before Haru could grab hold of Daisuke’s collar, the latter efficiently evaded his attempt to do so and stalked off into the corridor, adjusting his pristine suit as he ventured away. “If you want to stay here and wait for your partner, fine by me. I can go alone and handle the murders all by myself.” He said without looking back to meet Haru’s hardened gaze. “I’m sure this (Your Name) person is more important than the safety of other Japanese citizens.”

“O-Oi, I haven’t even decided yet! Don’t assume I’m not going!” As much as Haru wanted to be the first person to greet you back to work, he too loved justice and cared about the people who wanted to live in peace. Clicking his tongue out of annoyance, he turned to everyone left in the room, and all of them returned his gaze with bemused expressions. “Kambe and I will be quick. We’ll just drop by the crime scene and then cime back. I’m sure I’ll be able to return here before (Your Name) can. If not, tell her I’ll be back soon.”

***

daisuke was never inclined to pursue a romantic relationship. ever since witnessing his mother died, his life had been reserved into finding the truth. but little did he know, his perspective in love and romance will change, and hary will most certainly freak the fuck out

the two police officers arrived in the crime scene in a short amount of time. with how daisuke was speeding, it was understandable they would get there fast and very understandable how haru's whole life flashed right before his eyes. daisuke was actually tempted to go even faster but opposed to it after a while as he did not want to deal more with haru's tantrum after he recovered.

of course when they arrived there, the detectives assigned to the case shooed them off because they're not part of the investigations.

daisuke knew how to deal with them, of course. he brandished stacks of yen to include them in the case and the detectives were like 👀 because you know, who doesn't want extra cash?

haru didn't bother complaning anymore and just went to work. he wanted to get back to the station as soon as possible and welcome you first. best friend efforts, get a best friend like haru.

haru: "i scout the ground floor, you go upstairs - AND NO SPENDING MONEY YOU RICH BASTARD"

daisuke:

haru:

daisuke:

haru:

daisuke:

haru:

haru: "and - "

daisuke left before haru could finish his sentence. really daisuke just stayed and didn't answer him just so he could piss haru off. it worked nonetheless and daisuke can hear haru cursing at him as he walked upstairs

but we all know whatever daisuke does pisses haru off so so it didn't matter.

daisuke went up to the second floor if the bar and he saw how thrashed the place was

overturned tables, fallen chairs, broken bottles, reeks of alcohol, smears and pools of blood but everything seemed pleasant to look at compared to the two corpses that laid out on the floor with police tapes around them. it looked like a small massacre occured in there, and thay surely was the case

head smashed, chunks of flesh scattered, broken skulls but daisuke merely stared at them blankly

he wasn't disgusted nor disturbed. seeing his own mother's corpse was enough for him to deem gore as just another normal addition to his life

like another detective, daisuke began looking for clues. he searched the entire place like the good and professional detective he is -

who am i kidding - the first thing he did once he sees the condition of the second floor was, or course, ask HEUSC for information. screw asking them from fellow detectives when daisuke has his own ai butler

ahh perks of being a kambe

daisuke: "heusc, tell me the exact number of people that attended this bar between nine am to twelve in the afternoon"

heusc: "understood"

it did not take long until heusc responded

heusc: "the exact number of people who attended genyr is twenty seven. twelve in the ground floor, twelve in the ground floor, fifteen in the second. there are two dead bodies found in the second floor - "

daisuke snapped his head to the ceiling as soon as he heard a soft creak emit from over him

daisuke stared at the ceiling for about a moment before askint heusc - "look at the footage from the surveillance cameras surrounding the the bar. how many people fled outside?"

daisuke heard another creek above him, and this time he was sure he wasn't alone

and his unknown companion would love to have him in the same state as the corpses

and heusc replied: "twenty four"

daisuke closed his eyes, "is that so?"

heusc: "one person remains inside the building"

daisuke dropped his communication with his ai and positioned himself to a clean posture, back straight and hands tucked inside his pockets

daisuke: "you can come out now. no use hiding. i know you're here"

no response

daisuke clicked his tongue, "i heard you moving around in the ceiling the entire time i'm here and it's only been two minutes. you're not as discreet as you think you are. reveal yourself now and i'd consider lessening your time in jail."

still, silence greeted him

daisuke was growing irritated by the lack of answer given to him.

daisuke: "a coworker of mine needs to be back at the station right now for a reunion with his girlfriend - " daisuke paused as he imagined haru having a girlfriend. " - so let's keep this short and simple. surrender and as i have promised earlier, i will try to get you lesser years in prison"

but daisuke was not intending to keep this promise. even he knows giving a generous offer to criminals would weaken their resolve

but again, there was no answer

but he expected this

he always does to every case he gets handed with, or forced his hands to

daisuke observed the ceiling through a blank lense before sighing "if this is how you want things to go down, then so be it"

daisuke touched his earring and deliberately increased the volume of his voice as he spoke to heusc - "heusc, purchase the bar and its neighboring buildings and set a bomb for twenty minutes. tell the others to get out of here as soon as possible" he sneered at the ceiling. "i don't mind dying inside this bar with the suspect. it's the norm for a police officer to risk theit lives in the name of justice"

he sounded like haru for a moment there

heusc responded immediately: "understood, sir. balance: unlimited"

it was after that statement did a response come to light

the ceiling above daisuke broke as a firm kick broke through the fragile material

daisuke jumped away before a slim figure of a man dropped down from the hole

before daisuke could move, the man dashed pass him and out of the room, his oustretchrd hand barely grazing the bloodied clothes he wore

daisuke didn't waste time and recovered from his stunned state before following after the perpetrator

daisuke kept losing track of the man from time to the time and when he got down to the grounr floor, he saw no sign of him

nobody was present inside the bar anymore per order of heusc and money

all except for haru of course who immediately ran out of the place he was scouring and back to the main room

daisuke knew he heard heusc's order to leave the building but

haru will always be haru

haru, upon seeing daisuke's solemn state, asked: "what happened"

daisuke: "the man - did you see him?"

*haru, confused noises*: "what man? who?"

daisuke: "the man who killed the peple upstairs - he was still here and he ran down, didn't you hear him?"

haru: "no, i didn't - " his sentence was cut off when a figure suddenly lunged at him

lo and behold the criminal who was hiding behind an overturned couch

haru and the man tumbled down to the ground, fists and feet swinging wildly. daisuke watched as haru struggled to acquire dominance over the situation

daisuke: "heusc, identity of the killer"

heusc: "sakatoshi matona, a former bouncer for genyr until he was let go without reason"

haru strung out profanities and grunts as he and the matona rolled on the floor, trying to pin the other down. with a boost of strength, matona managed to get the upper hand and he put all his weight on haru. his hands found haru's neck and began strangling him

daisuke was like aren't you cop? win you idiot in the inside and haru was like aren't you a cop? help me you bastard in the inside. just the norm for the reckless and seemingly suicidal cops

haru: "gwet hiff op opp mii"

heusc: "transalation: get him off of me"

daisuke took action after that. he pulled matona off of haru and immediately socked him on the face

matona stumbled back but daisuke underestimated the time he would tske to recover and he tumbled back as the criminal retaliated with a punch of his own

daisuke dodged the assault but in the process, temporarily losing his posture. matona took this as an opportunity to continue his line of attacks, landing a few good hits on daisuke but majority of the time, he failed

daisuke recovered from the initial shock matona has inflicted him with and returned to momentum ane he was preparing his attack when bam - haru kato

my day be so fine then boom - haru kato

daisuke's eyes widened when haru, after standing up, tried to lock matona's arms to prevent him from moving anymore but instead, his chest met with an elbow

air was taken away from him and haru staggered backwards, clutching his chest and matona seized him

daisuke cursed and shot forward to help him but stopped when matona took haru's gun away from him and pointed it towards haru

matona: "stand back or i'll shoot"

haru raised his hands in surrender but daisuke did not

and haru was: ?????!!!!! tryna get me killed????!!!!

daisuke: "i can keep my promise, you know"

matona pointed the gun at daisuke

matona: "how can you when you're just a lowly cop?"

daisuke took out his cigar and lit up

daisuke: "yes, because a lowly cop can just buy buildings with a single command from an ai"

matona growled "rich, snobby, uncaring, and a liar. you're just the same like the people i killed"

daisuke opened his mouth to reply when a feminine voice cuts in

"finally, a confession. now we can get this over with"

before anyone could react appropriately, matona felt a hand take hold of his stolen gun and tore it away from his grasp before a heel sunk into his stomach, causing him to spit out blood

daisuke saw her, a woman standing with such grace, confidence, and strength with a gun in her hand and a smirk on her brims

daisuke couldn't move not from shock, but with admiration

who was this woman?

and what was this thudding in his chest

doki doki

his face was hot, very hot

and so was the woman

"( YOUR NAME )???"

daisuke turned and saw haru gawking at you

haru: (@[]@!!)

daisuke: （－－）

also daisuke: is that really (your name)? haru's partner? haru's girlfriend?

daisuke: hmp hmp（｀ー´）

you turned to both of them and daisuke was blown away with you that he nearly fell

he thinks you're very pretty

V E R Y

doki doki

you smiled widely at them: "haru, it's so nice to see you again" and then you turned to daisuke

daisuke froze and his cigar dropped

you glanced back at haru: "you already replaced me?"

haru: "tf no! rich boy here wanted to plays cops for a while so he went to our department. you know me, i could never replace you"

daisuke glared at haru

it waa obvious he was trying hard not to upset you (though you didn't look like the type who would get easily offended)

plus he's pushing a single and narrow minded narrative about him towards you. what if you hate him?

but you didn't and merely smiled at him, ignoring the criminal trembling from the pain of your kick

you: "my name is (your name)"

daisuke.exe has stopped working

jk that won't happen to daisuke

for now at least

daisuke: "kambe daisuke"

you, smiling: "nice to meet you, kambe daisuke!"

haru: "how did you find us here?"

you: "was gon get a drink before i head to the station but then i saw police tapes and stuff"

haru looked alarmed: "YOU WERE GOING TO DRINK RIGHT AFTER YOU GOT RELEASED FROM THE HOSPITAL"

you turned away from them, facing matona: "you can continue scolding me after we arrest this killer, haru. sorry in advance for haru, daisuke. he can be pretty overbearing and protective"

daisuke: "i can tell"

haru was offended okay?

you were already teaming up with daisuke to tease? betrayal.

haru: "how dare you (your name) - "

you did not let haru to finish his sentence and starter beating the shit out of matona like DAMN GHORL

daisuke and haru watched from a distance as you expertly used the gun to your advantage without pulling the trigger. you used the metal to hit him in fragile parts of his body in order to limit his movement

daisuke gawked at you

he has never seen such fluid execution for an arrest

daisuke looked: O-O

haru, seeing him, smugly crossed his arms and said: "you get to see how amazing (your name) is as a cop. she's my partner"

just as he said that, you pinned the criminal down on the ground, gun discarded, your one hand straining his arm behind his back and the other pinning his other hand on the ground

you: "i just got out of the hospital. how did i still win?"

daisuke suddenly frowned

oh, right. she's haru's girlfriend.

several minutes later, you successfully managed to arrest sakatoshi matona and the other detectives came to take him. but of course, you made sure you, daisuke, and haru were getting the recognition

like hell you were letting someone else get the glory for your efforts

you returned to daisuke and haru, smiling

they were talkiny when you hugged haru from behind

you: "haru i missed youuuu. it was lonely without your annoying butt looking out after me all the time"

haru flushed red

haru: "if you didn't catch the bullet for me then - "

you: "and let you get shot instead? nu uh, no way. i would take any bullet for you. right, daisuke?"

he felt speechless when you regarded him

daisuke didn't know what else to say to you so he said: "yes, i agree"

but somehow the the thought of you getting shot angered him

haru looked at daisuke, thinking: he acting kinda sus rn

you turned to haru and the two of you began catching up, smiling and laughing

you two looked comfortable so with each other. you two were carbon copies of one another, except you were ten times better, sorry haru

you two were made for each other

no wonder you're his girlfriend

you: "how's everyone in the precinct?"

haru: "still the same. everyone missed you"

daisuke: "are you two together?"

haru: 👁👄👁

you: *long ass laughing emoji*

haru turned very red, shouting: "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT IDEA"

daisuke: "you said you were partners - "

you: "i didn't know you liked me that way, haru - "

haru: "NO I DON'T KAMBE WAS JUST BEING A DUMBASS"

you tittered and turned to daisuke: "no, we're not together, kambe-san" you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "sorry if i scared you"

daisuke felt relief wash over him

daisuke: "i was just wondering. you and haru seemed very close so i was just making sure i wasn't misunderstanding"

daisuke froze with wide eyes when you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek

and you whispered to him: "gotta work on being discreet when you look at me. i can practically see you chasing after me in the future with how you were looking at me. i'm flattered you find me that fascinating"

you turned to the shook haru: "i like this one, haru. we should bring him along with our cases"

you regarded them both: "anyways, i'll be heading over to the station first. i can write up the report and have man behind bars quickly. don't worry though, i'll make all three of us have the glory. i trust that you two can finish up here without me?"

the two men wanted to say something but both of them were stunned. you just kissed daisuke on the cheek and your best friend saw it. daisuke's eyes were wide and haru had his jaw dropping down

they still didn't say anything when you bid them farewell and just watched as you went to a police car with another cop where matona was and sped off

daisuke can feel his heart hammering against his chest

what was this feeling? it was so strange and . . . it's just strange, but he was not oppossed to thie feeling

in fact, he wanted more of it. as long as it came from you, it was fine

haru, however, was not

haru looked like he had seen the most horrifying thing ever

B E T R A Y E D

his best friend and this cop wannabe?

D I S G U S T H A N G

daisuke cleared his throat and turned to haru to say something but was met with a finger pointed at his face and haru looking vexed

haru: "you - "

the bar and the buildings nearby exploded beforw haru could say anything more. everyone except for daisuke was startled and sunk down on the ground

daisuke was not though. and he remained standing. not for the reason he forgot about the bomb he instructed heusc to plant but because

- you kissed him and he was self destructing

daisuke held back the smile threatening to tear through his face

haru: "w-what was t-t-th - "

daisuke: "i forgot about the bomb, sorry"

[cinnamonest]

Makoto Naegi (DR) - Yandere Profile

Me? Producing non-genshin profiles? Releasing two profiles in one day? It’s more likely than you think!

I’ll probably do my boi Hajime eventually too. I got several dangan requests so I’m gonna start with this one and do those gradually too.

Makoto is the perfect classic, traditional yandere. He fits every trope and aspect of the archetype so well, so I just had to make him a delusional, split persona type. It's a bit ooc of course but I just see him being that type to really snap and have a whole new persona underneath. Bless him. I love soft sweet boys and turning them into nasty lil obsessive gremlins. Also I couldn't decide on a setting/version of him, so I talk mostly about a normal Makoto in normal school life, but also what he'd be like during the killing game as well as a side of Mastermind Makoto bc I'm a sucker for mastermind AUs. Note, he's 18 or older in all of these, of course.

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Tws: stalking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, nsfw mentions, mentions of permanent mutilation, voyeurism Tws: (below cut) - voyeurism mention, noncon, Makoto being awful Additional warnings: very minor spoilers for Danganronpa 1

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Bounces between lucidity and delusion. DR1 Makoto is probably largely influenced by the stress of, you know, threat of imminent death, but even outside of such a situation, he'd be a very well hidden yandere. He's just so sweet! So gentle! You can't really seem him as threatening at all, so a lot of subtle things might go unnoticed, like how touchy he can be, how his stares linger, how people seem to avoid you when he's around. However, while the yandere side isn't obvious, the crush certainly is. He's a blushing boy, will get flustered the moment you speak to him, is constantly stumbling over his words, nervously scratching the back of his head, looking all over everywhere except at you, eyes darting away.

Obsessive. It defines his yandere side. Everything is about the obsession, the worship, it's overwhelming. The desire to kidnap you is partially protective, sure, but really? He also just wants you close, he wants you all to himself, he could just be happy looking at you forever. Stalker for sure. He's a classic style stalker, one to take lots and lots of pictures. His phone is handy for the ones that need more of a... secretive approach, but for the ones that he can take safely, from a distance, or the ones of you sleeping, they look best in polaroids.

He would definitely be one to steal things, particularly clothes. Wait until you go to do your laundry, and when you're there he'll do something like pull the fire alarm, cause something to fall over, and wait for everyone else to leave or investigate before slipping in - surely you won't notice just a few pieces of clothes missing, right? Just some gym clothes you worked out in, they smell so much like you, and some underwear you won't miss. They're just cute is all. Not for any perverted purposes, nope. He'd have a shrine, too. He'd steal creepy shit like soda cans you threw away, pens you held. He'd use his phone or one of those cameras from the mono machine to get as many photos as possible, running over them late at night, going through each one and rubbing one out to every photo he can get of your soft, innocent expression.

Deceptively intelligent. It's his number one trick. He comes off as a very... average person in pretty much every way, it's literally his character trope at first, but as we know, he's actually particularly intelligent and perceptive. Most people don't realize this, though, and it gives him an advantage. He is aware that he's perceived as a bit of an innocent, naive airhead, and will utilize that perception, which allows him to get away with quite a bit by feigning ignorance or innocence.

A split personality bouncer. Classic yandere style. Sweet, innocent, happy, but if you just keep fucking pushing the limits he'll - no, forget that, it's ok, he understands :)  ....THAT kind of yandere. He spends the majority of the time on the sweet side, but, especially as time goes on, can easily snap to a much meaner, darker persona, but it's not how he is the majority of the time. It's only brought out by excess stress from all of the... complication of things involving you.

Speaking of how he has all the makings of a classic yandere, delusional regarding love as well. Highly convinced that you'll love him eventually, convinced that everyone is out to take you away from him, and convinced that he knows what's best for you. Perhaps a bit surprisingly, he falls into this delusion pretty easily and quickly. He's likely got a bit of an inferiority complex given, you know, being the "normal" person among some of the best people in their fields. He likes the idea of anything that can give him a sense of importance, of value, of being needed, and he chooses to project that into your protection.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Normal schoolboy Makoto, well, he'd have to find a way. He wants to, really, the moment he meets you, but how can he do that? He lives in a dorm. If you went missing, surely they'd investigate the dorms right? He'd ultimately probably end up running away with you, finding some way to get by while he keeps you safely locked up in some tiny apartment somewhere.

As for the how, he would take a very traditional method. Ask you to meet him at a certain place and time behind the school, and you'll never see it coming, be it chloroform or a blunt object or whatever he chooses. You wouldn't suspect someone as sweet as him to ever be planning anything of the sort. He feels bad for hurting you, but it's for a greater purpose. Within minutes he'll have you stuffed in a sports bag or instrument case or something of the like, carrying you off, and no one will no where you could have gone.

Will definitely be that one that gets interviewed by the news on TV, the best friend of the poor girl that went missing, and he's all sniffly and teary while talking about how much he misses you, how he's so worried about you. He's actually a very good actor when he really, really needs to be. It's also his way of atonement, in a sense. If he can show how much he cares about you, even if it's in a situation where he's lying, it makes him feel better.

DR1 Makoto, well, he'll be virtually immediate. Don't you understand the gravity of the situation? You could DIE! He can't let that happen. You may be insistent that it's ok, that you want to all try and work together, but in his mind, you just don't understand how serious this all is. You're just too naive. The only solution is immediate action. He'll be gentle about it, probably lacing your tea or coffee with something he found laying around in the nurse's office to make you just a little bit sleepy, so dazed you won't even realize he's guiding you back to a room that isn't yours, won't even hear yourself being tied up.

If the others ask what happened to you, well, he'll say he has no idea. They'll likely assume you're simply dead. After all, if a body isn't discovered, how would there be a trial? They search and search but no one ever finds a body. How strange.

He might simply tell them you're paranoid and holed up in your room. It's ok, though, you trust him to bring you food, so they don't need to worry about you. As for the trials, well, you can't participate in those if you're unconscious, now can you?

As for MM! Makoto, well... Who's to say this isn't his way of kidnapping you? You're separated from that awful awful outside world. That's The whole point of it all, all of this was for you. To isolate you, and the game is simply to strike some fear in you, make you understand how evil and traitorous humans are. You'll never want to leave. And of course, he intends to play until there are two students left. Unfortunately for the others, the winners have already been... predetermined.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

Unfortunately for you, Makoto is one of those yans that is perfectly ok with your life consisting of being tied, 24/7, in one place. He'd keep you restrained at all times, with something soft of course! He doesn't want to hurt you, but it's for your own safety.

DR1 Makoto would constantly be coming back to the room to check on you, make sure you haven't left, make sure you're ok. He'd neglect all of his free time opportunities to talk to others and opt to come be with you instead.

Normal Makoto would invest in some special security measures, namely, a very special shock collar that he bought off of some sketchy site. It's made for humans! It has a lock with a code and everything. You honestly wonder why there's even a market for such a thing. It's not just light shocks, no, it has settings. It syncs to his phone, with a built in remote app, one he can push and it'll give you a nice shock of whatever level he sets it at.

However, the collar is also synched to a field of range that it will detect your location in. It's set perfectly to the boundaries of your little home. If you were to step outside the door or the window... Well, it's not going to kill you, but you'll be out cold, and he'll get a notification telling him you tried to leave. The first time, maybe, you can calm him down and convince him it was an accident, you tripped and crashed against the door and it just ever so lightly pushed you over the boundary. He'll believe it... Once.

Unfortunately, he's also one of the ones who sees no issue in permanent bodily modifications to deter you from leaving. He's not like some of the previous yans I've discussed, though, because it's not out of sadism or a lack of care for your feelings, it's a delusion thing. He'll be so sweet about it, reassure you that it's ok, it's for your own good, you're too precious and innocent and the outside world will hurt you, but this way you're safe from yourself and your own naivete. He'll be so, so careful and take such good care of you, he'll give you something strong so that you don't feel any pain at all.

He's also perfectly fine with you living in a constant drugged state, out of your mind, drowsy and completely unaware of anything in the world except him. And things are better that way - really, you can't say you're not happy, you seem so content like this. You don't complain, you don't get angry, you just giggle and smile and loll your head back and forth. You don't fight him. You just smile.

In other words, regarding escape, you might as well give up. Your only real chance is being rescued by someone else, someone who might just notice his increasingly odd behaviors, but if they believe you're dead, which he will go to great lengths to ensure you do, it's unlikely to happen. Any attempts will just be met with a sweet smile, a little laugh at how dumb you are to think that would really work, and quickly taking you back, where his demeanor might get significantly angrier once he can really let loose.

MM! Makoto is an equally unrealistic chance, the worst of all, really. It's just not happening. He'll also likely convince you, much like as the DR1 and V3 did, that the world outside is nearly destroyed, or somehow unlivable, that you're lucky to be here, and that this is the only place where you're safe. 

If you try, he'll crack down on however the hell you managed to escape because... how would you even go about that? I mean, the whole environment was designed to be inescapable, and if a whole class of students couldn't find a way out, it's unlikely you will either. Any attempts will likely be dumb and unsuccessful enough that he can't even get mad, it's just amusing.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Oh, easy. We see in Chapter one of DR1 just how easily he will bend to the will of a girl he likes and nearly end up getting himself falsely accused of murder and all, so safe to say he's pretty easily manipulatable and if you're looking to survive, you can use that to your advantage. However, really, you're better off manipulating him into being a meatshield - he'll guard you 24/7 and be more than willing to die. Poor baby. 

However, if he catches onto manipulation once, and it doesn't involve your safety, he'll learn pretty quick. Deep down he's a highly intelligent young man, and you may find the tables turning pretty quickly - he can easily manipulate your paranoia and mortal fear, convincing you that if you just stay with him, you'll be safe, convincing you that everyone else is out to get you, convincing you that this or that person is plotting to kill you. He's so sweet and innocent looking, you'll believe every word.

Bonus: If he were the mastermind, he'd be so deceitful and do it so well, you'd never know. An excellent actor through and through. In a way, it's not acting at all - he loves you and wants you to be safe. This is all so that you'll just understand that you need to be kept away from the outside world - you're actually perfectly safe, he's taken measures to ensure that, but you'd have no way of knowing. Even if you feel like those cameras in the rooms at night almost seem like they're staring right at you.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Very few. He'll baby you and prevent you from doing most things for yourself. He'll be one to try and keep you entertained, though, most likely get you some kind of tablet or laptop you can use to write, let you play all of his games, let you watch anything, and get you any kind of materials for any hobbies you have, provided he's deemed it non-dangerous. So, given all of that, you don't need to do anything else, right? He'll see anything more as just you pushing your limits, because you're trying to be difficult again. Complaints go in one ear and out the other.

DR1 would be the worst Makoto to have, because he can't provide you with much, and can't lock you in from the outside... so, his primary go-to is gonna be keeping you completely restrained all the time. Don't worry, though, he assures you that once you guys get out of here, he'll take you away to a much nicer place with much more to do! But for now, you'll be getting very acquainted with his ceiling, left with nothing to do but stare up at it. He'll try to be around as much as he can though, and won't leave you for too long, only leaving when necessary. And for the trials you'll just... have a little nap, so it'll feel like no time really passed at all.

Ironically, MM! Makoto gives you the most leniency. He'll make sure anything dangerous is taken away, but then, he'll let you roam the abandoned, hollow shell of the school, whenever he has to work on something, which isn't too often. Of course, this is partially because he's got an eye on you via cameras every waking moment, so really, you feel his presence even when he isn't there.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

For a normal Makoto, he'd be one to give you a "schedule" to help you adjust. He doesn't want you getting depressed and laying in bed all day, it's bad for your health! He wants you happy and lively and that way you can have more fun together! He'll give you a list of very simple tasks to complete throughout the day. If you don't do them, that's ok, you can do them together when he comes back, but they will get done. Other than that, of course, no running away, no attacking him, and you know, just try to be a bit grateful and nice.

If you make him mad enough, he needs time to cool down, and he presumes you do, too. He's one to pull psychological things -- locking you in a dark, dark room with no light or sound for a long enough time, all alone, ignoring your cries and whimpers until he knows you've learned. But once you have, and if he sees the results have turned out as expected, he'll be sweet and affectionate when he takes you out, and tell you he's glad you see things his way now.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Normal Makoto, once again, we have a very classic yandere trope. He's delusional and in love and anyone who gets in the way will suffer. He's, again, very deceptively intelligent, and he can easily commit a murder, even a string of murders, that no one would ever be able to put together, and certainly that no one would ever suspect someone like him of committing. You could say it's like a talent of his. He has no guilt or remorse, either, and no value for the lives of people who are his enemies.

DR1 Makoto, He's limited to two people, unfortunately. If he had it his way, he would kill them all. But still, that's enough to win. He'll bide his time, setting things up so that hopefully, the more intelligent students get eliminated early. He has masterful ways of pulling strings here and there, planting ideas in people's heads, off handed comments that might just inspire a killing. Once there's only idiots left, well, once two of them go missing, in the most elaborate, confusing murders in the game thus far, they'll never figure it out. 

Of course, he'll certainly find a way around the rules. He'll force the mastermind to have no choice but to let you both live. Injured students can't participate in trials if they're out cold, no? So if you have some minor bone breakage, get drugged conveniently before a trial begins, you can't participate. And if you didn't participate, it would really be upsetting to everyone watching if Monokuma killed off a student who couldn't even partake in the trial. After all, they might have been able to turn it around! So really, the mastermind has to let you both live.

Or maybe, he'll convince you to do it with him. Force the weapon into your hand, force it down on the poor poor victim, holding your hand in his. Monokuma can't prove you weren't putting some exertion into it, that it was all his force. Therefore, really, you both killed them. Therefore, the trial is against you both. Therefore... He can get rid of everyone in the way, all at once, with only one left to go - the person behind that bear. And he will find a way - you'd be foolish to underestimate his capabilities. After all, you always thought he was just a lil empty headed guy, shy and flustered, and look how wrong that was.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

In the "developing stages" of obsession, not so much. He's generally a sweet, easy-going guy, even a little bit of a doormat if we're being honest.

Normally, he gets pouty-mad, not violent-mad. Almost what some might call a girl-sort-of-mad, the kind where he huffs and pouts and pretends to ignore you. It's either kinda cute or infuriating, depending on your mood or how you view it. In that state, all you have to do is give him what he wants, of summon a quick apology, and he'll bounce back to normal and loving and affectionate nearly immediately. It's part of an immature streak he has.

He has his snap moments, and will snarl and growl at you with the most furious expression for just a mere moment -- but he snaps back to sweet and soft as quickly as he changed the first time. It's a little bit of mental whiplash for you, really. You almost feel like you imagined it. In those moments, though, he may just for those few instants get a little violent.

If he's truly furious, he gets quiet. It's a little terrifying, really, you know something is coming, and it's not pleasant. He'll likely just grab you and slowly, tortuously drag you to whatever he has planned. He'll give you a very grim, cold expression, and coldly tell you this is what you deserve, and if that's locking you up, he'll tell you you can come back out when you're ready to behave.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. He's a worshipper. He can't even believe he gets to be in your presence, even look at you, he's unworthy and it's all so overwhelming.

It... Gets annoying pretty quickly, actually. He's not gonna sit around and degrade himself all that much unlike SOME certain lucky students cough cough, but he'll constantly grovel and remind you how perfect you are. He's not good enough for you, he doesn't deserve you... a bit ironic to hear, since that certainly didn't seem to stop him from taking you away against your will, but there's a lot of hypocrisies that don't really line up with Makoto. 

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Highly so, but also deluded into thinking you do pretty easily. Even if you're screaming and yelling, he just thinks you're having a bad day, throwing a tantrum. He thinks you do love him, if you're in the later stages of things. Anything that conflicts with this delusion is explainable otherwise, usually the default being that, as usual, you're just being difficult, but that's ok -- he really loves you anyway.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Ironically, what makes him unique compared to my other yanderes is that he's more fitting for the traditional yandere type - a very cute-faced, psycho sweetheart type. He's highly prone to the classic yandere tropes and attitudes, as well as the mental and emotional instability traditionally associated with yanderes - smiling no matter what, even as he does awful things, but also snapping to a dark, angry state over the smallest things.

Guilt tripping. It's his specialty. He's so cute, so sweet, you wouldn't want to make him cry and make him sad... Would you? You're not that cruel, are you? You wouldn't throw away everything he's done for you and leave him all alone with no one... Right? He'll easily manipulate you this way, it's his specialty.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

The thing about those soft sweet boys that are just so innocent? Half the time they're the nastiest, horniest little pervs there are. He's sweet, he'll help you with everything you need! You're struggling to reach that shelf so he'll just put his hands on your hips and squeeze you and lift you up! But he'll stumble a bit, and when you come down you'll kinda land on him just a bit, chest pressed up against his face, and you'll be the one embarrassed - but it's ok. He says he knows you didn't mean to. And he's so sheepish and embarrassed about it himself, clearly it must have been unintentional.

And he's so innocent and kind, you know he doesn't mean to be so touchy, doesn't mean to cling to you so much, so you can brush it off. After all, he's just so nice, you wouldn't want to offend him.

Will jerk off on every single thing he has of you. Every little polaroid, every article of clothing he's stolen, every little thing. It's gross. He's gross. By the time you're kidnapped you might even find some of your clothes that went missing, and they're hard as a rock. Ew.

Like a lot of yans, will get significantly bolder once he has you all to himself. Much more touchy, much more suggestive, boldly, openly horny and just, constantly begging you to just fuck already, whining and even rutting into you if you're still in denial.

MM! Makoto will also 100% watch you get undressed through the cameras every night. Save the video feed and just watch it over and over again, taking in every little detail. Cum all over each little video, watching it drip down the screen. He can almost pretend it's actually dripping down your face, and not just the image of it.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

I... within the first hour of your confinement you're gonna know what this boy's dick feels like. He has no restraint. He just loves you so much! Hell, you might even wake up to him just, grinding into you, jerking off to you. You're just so pretty. You can't expect him to be too restrained, you know? He's so overcome by love for you that he can't help it.

High-level delusional. Will make up every reason in the world as to why you might be rejecting. You're nervous, it's ok, he'll help you get over it. You're insecure, and he'll help you get around that too. Ultimately, in the end, you're not getting out of it, nor putting it off at all really. It'll be the first thing you do to start off your new little lifestyle.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

D/S dynamic

Except... in a really weird way. It's the sub without the dom. Or not really submissive at all. It's a very bizarre dynamic you'll have going on - the way he talks to you is so submissive, so sweet, constantly asking you if you feel good, constantly whimpering and making the cutest little noises, constantly worshipping you, you'd almost forget he has you tied up and is forcing you through it. He acts submissive in his own way, and yet he's completely controlling you. In fact, you're pretty certain he wouldn't actually let you top him in any way, and any attempts to do so will be met with him denying you, telling you to just let him do what he wants take care of you. His attitude and words are submissive, yet he insists on controlling you completely. It's, again, bizarre in its own way, but what isn’t bizarre with this man.

Oral fixation

A guilty one for him, with his whole service attitude and all, because he really likes to be on the receiving end of it. Cumming down your throat is fine and all, but really he's one to pull out and cum all over your face. Bonus points if you wear lip gloss to smear all over his dick, wear glasses he can get cum on, or anything that makes it feel special.

In his rare angry, more dominant moments, he can get kind of rough with it. If he's really mad at you, hearing you choke is a rather satisfying feeling.

Paizuri/Thigh fucking/outercourse

The boy's seen too much porn. Just, pleeeeeeease let him cum on your tits. Please. He begs for it over and over, doesn't matter if you tell him yours are too big or too small, he just really wants to cum on them. He just wants to feel your smooth skin on his dick you know? Maybe he can get the tip in your mouth while you do it too!

And while you're at it... Let him fuck your thighs. Please? Just hold your legs together, not hard right? There's just something about actually seeing his dick against you that makes it so nice, and so temptingly close to your holes. But if you've agreed to it as a way of preventing actual sex, it might just... accidentally go in anyway. It was just too slippery... but now, he's already fucking you so... might as well keep doing that instead.

Cockwarming/activity-sex

Our boy likes his vidya. And you know all those jokes and references to, you know, getting sucked off under the table while he plays games....? He just... really, really would like that. It's a big fantasy for him. He's probably the type of guy to be way too into league of legends dammit and he just, would love to have to try to be quiet, try to get off down your throat while trying not to alert anyone that can hear through his mic. Or just sit on his dick, it's heavenly, he'll gradually just lost control and start losing his game, before eventually cutting it off and exiting altogether in favor of rutting up into you. He likes it, but he doesn't have a whole lot of self-control to actually do it for long before giving up and just fucking you.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He's one of the ones that really wants it, he thinks it would be so cute, so precious, and of course the benefit of it tying you to him. He might be one to get a bit jealous, though. He likes your attention, and can be a little bit immature about it. Unfortunately, though, he's not actually aware of his own immaturity, so this can present a problem.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

(Insert "iiiiits punishment time!" joke here)

If he's in this mode, an angry mood, his demeanor for sex changes significantly. The weird pseudo sub attitude isn't really there, it's more of a quiet neutrality, a frustrated, but calculated anger that brings out the worst in him. It's honestly frightening for you in and of itself because it's such a dark expression and rough voice and so unfamiliar that it would freak you out just to see him like that.

The go-to is impact pain. In this rare-ish mood, he can actually change pretty significantly -- normally, he'd never dream of hurting you, would feel awful if he did, and would not enjoy it in any way, but now? He kinda... feels like you deserve it, and he'll undeniably get off to it a bit. Something about watching you cry and squirm really helps alleviate the anger. He'll be soft about it later, wipe away your tears and softly murmur nice things... but he won't apologize. You deserved it. If it's that bad, then you'll just have to not do it again.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

A thigh boy. Let him use your lap as a pillow, and he'll be a very happy boy indeed. He likes feeling them wrapped around his hips, or his head, likes squeezing the flesh in his hands, likes running his hands up and down.

[kim-miyeon]

Hell Above- Chapter Fourteen

PAIRINGS: Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader

WARNINGS: Series contains mature content. read at your own discretion. Mafia!AU, explicit language, sexual scenes, fighting scenes, abuse, pregnancy, family issues, angst, 18+

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

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Fine, Maybe I’ll Pretend Right Now, But I Swear To God I’m Gonna Change The World

 “Y/N”

 Minho looked at you as he saw your eyes grow dark. Orbs blackened and the intense rage had swept over the room. You have had enough. Death is our option.

“Execution?” You whispered, loud enough to be heard and eyes shooting daggers at you grandfather. Minho watched you, still near you trying to watch your every move as you threw your gun to the ground in anger. You jerked Minho’s arm away from you and clenched your jaw. 

“Death? I stand before you now, Grandfather. Without my weapon, fully vulnerable.” 

Your grandfather rose and you watched as the blood from his arm seeped slowly through the dark gray suit he wore. A bullet that couldn’t kill him but made a mark that you were ever so capable to finish him off. Wondering to yourself, if you should but knowing the consequence is you were to kill your own flesh. Because if you were to kill such a man with power, hell would rise above you. He had every ability to strike you down and hide his efforts away . That was the way it was, corrupt and cruel against those who stood no chance. Even as leader, you were nothing because he stood before you as the last remaining Lee from the generation before. He was a previous leader, and until he passed you would not have your rightful place. So killing you had to keep an emerging leader at sea. Minho was a contender and even so was just as powerless. Your grandfather grabbed a slight hold of his weapon and you smirked.

“Why wait another week to bury me, when you could end it all now? Shoot me.” You spoke confidently and saw your grandfather grow hesitant before he raised his weapon. You felt no fear in that moment as the adrenaline ran through your veins. You knew how to dodge a bullet, how to escape harm's way. Minho grew anxious as he watched your grandfather, raising his weapon to aim. You then felt Minho’s arm reach around your front and pull you quickly behind him as he drew his weapon and aimed at your grandfather. Your gaze pulled as you watched both men aim their guns at each other and you grew worried immediately. 

“Minho…” You whispered. 

“Minho. Move.” Your grandfather demanded. Your head began to pound with anxiety. Minho sternly looked back at your grandfather as he held you back when you tried to move.

“No.” Minho gritted.

“Minho stand down.” Your grandfather’s tone rose and Minho cocked back his gun and held it at your grandfather.

“MINHO!” Your grandfather shouted.

“NO!” Minho shot his gun at the ceiling causing you and your grandfather to dodge in fear. You had your hands over your head, crouched down and Minho didn’t move an inch. You looked up and saw Minho breathing deeply and staring at your grandfather in anger, and hatred. It was a sight you had never seen. One that had been long overdue.

“My whole life. I have given you my whole life. I’ve bled and cried because you. You took everything from me. You--” Minho choked up and began to well tears in his eyes as your grandfather rose slowly to stand again, “My mother didn’t deserve to die.”

“Minho-“ Your grandfather softly pleaded.

“Your greed and obsession with being the best has caused you to lose everyone around you and you don’t even care.” Minho then grabbed your hand from behind him and you stood up as he began to slowly shift his way towards the entrance, still aiming his gun at your grandfather.

“I will not partake in your wishes anymore, Grandfather. I have watched you hurt Y/N too many times.” You listened to Minho’s words as he kept shifting you towards the entrance door.

“The Lee family was built to last beyond you two. The Hwang family emerged to strike us down. And you still wish to sleep with your enemy. as long as I live, there will never be peace between the families.” Your grandfather spoke and you caught a glimpse at his eyes, just soulless.

“Come on.” Minho whispered as you two made it to the entrance door and were about to run off before your grandfather yelled out to you as you looked at him.

“You walk out that door, you watch your every turn.” 

You looked at Minho and you two ran off into the dark hallway, you in front and Minho behind as you made your way out of the chamber. Once in the light you searched for HYunjin’s car and Minho approached behind you. 

“Where is Hyunjin?” he asked as you saw a car approach and you two began running towards it. Once Hyunjin pulled up next to you, both of you got in the car and you wasted no time.

‘HYUNJIN DRIVE!” You yelled as he began to accelerate the car and you watched as you guys sped away from the building and where you had just left. YOu leaned your head back against the chair and then realized what had happened. You turned around to Minho in the back seat and you went at it. 

“ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?” You shouted and he looked at you in shock.

“What is your problem?” He loudly answered.

“What happened?” Hyunjin asked curiously as you continued lashing out at Minho.

“MINHO, DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU’VE DONE? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” You exclaimed.

“He was GOING TO KILL YOU!” 

“What?” Hyunjin softly said looking at you quickly. 

“YOU SHOULD OF LET HIM! I HAD HIM.” You retorted and felt the car come to a halt.

You felt the car jerk you to the front as Hyunjin stopped and looked at you. 

“You were going to let him kill you?” Hyunjin looked at you in complete dismay. You watched his eyes grow weak and sad as you felt the entire mood changed and you sighed.

“No. Minho protected me.” You softly said.

“I had to.” You heard Minho’s soft voice from the back echo and you looked up and saw him hanging his head low. 

“He didn’t hesitate to pull his trigger. He was going to shoot you. I couldn’t let him hurt you again.” You felt your inner child wanting to cry at his words. Years of feeling put down and helpless were healing. Minho stood over you and defended you. 

“At what cost?” You softly remarked and Minoh looked up at you and you sighed, “He’s going to come for me and you know it.”

“Come for you?” Hyunjin repeated and you looked at him as he continued, “What happened in there?”

*******************************************************************************************

“So he ordered the massacre?” 

It was almost a scene from a movie. Extremely rare and almost sacrilegious watching the table of the conference room filled with those of opposing families. You and Hyunjin stood at the front as Jisung had just summarize the information you gave to the boys. 

“ We always knew it was Chan’s father who carried out the massacre. Uncle took the blame for his little brother because he had too.” Jisung continued and you looked over at Hyunjin who lowered his head.

“He cared for his brother, but it meant nothing.” Changbin stated. 

“Chan has always been very obsessive over the title of leader. He always said it was an honor.” Jisung said back as you grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist and he looked at you. 

“Where is Chan?” You asked and Hyunjin opened his mouth before Changbin interrupted. 

“Compromised.” 

“He helped Yeji to get information on you.” Hyunjin looked at you and you nodded.

“That family line is easy to bribe hmm.” Felix teased, earning a small glare from Jisung. 

“So what’s the plan? What happens now?” Seungmin asked and you sighed looking at Minho quickly. 

“He’s going to come for me, when I least expect it.” 

“What?” Hyunjin gasped, unaware of this new news

“He will take me. I don’t know what he will do but he is going to try and kill me and the baby.” You looked down at the table, earning a worrying sigh from Hyunjin. 

“Baby?” Changbin stated and you looked at him and he shook his head, “Fuck you two really have turned this thing into shit” 

“So what do you think we should do?” Felix questioned. 

“Changbin you’re good with weapons and medicine, no?” You asked and he nodded. 

“I mean I dabble in the art of it. Why?” 

“Faking my death.” You said and Minho dropped his arms.

“Fake your death? Is that your brilliant plan?”  He asked and you looked at him.

“Grandfather won’t quit until he knows I’m dead.” You started and pointed at Minho, “ And he’s going to want you to finish me.” 

“I’m not going to shoot you Y/N.”

“If I’m “dead” grandfather will make you leader and you will be able to infiltrate the network and find out how we can end all this corruption.” You explained and Minho looked at you distressed and you sighed. 

“We need a bullet that won’t enter your body.” Hyunjin said and you looked at him as he started at you in worry. 

“ I can’t create a prototype bullet that won't enter your body.” 

“Then I’ll have to get shot. Can it stimulate me enough to slow my heart rate?”

“Yes it can--.”

“Can it damage the baby?” Hyunjin interjected and Changbin sighed and blew it out his mouth. 

“I can’t confidently say no, I have never used it on pregnant women.”

“I don’t know Y/N.. it’s-” Hyunjin started and you cut him off.

“We are doing it” Everyone grew silent and you groaned in annoyance. 

“Guys if we want to end a war we didn’t start we have to sacrifice.” 

“At what cost?” Felix said and you looked at him as he looked uneasy back at you. 

“Excuse me Y/N” You didn’t realize a soldier had walked in and you looked up at him and nodded.

“Yes”

“There’s a phone call for you” He stood by and waited for your acceptant nod as you stood straight up and looked around the table and then to Hyunjin, who looked the most stressed. His anxiety heightens, his face white. He didn’t feel comfortable with this decision and it broke your heart cause you knew that this was the only viable way. Your grandfather will never quit attacking you and looking for you if he knew a child of both Hwang and Lee blood existed. He had power that you could overthrow if everyone teamed up to let it happen. Minho could infiltrate the corrupted network of leaders who followed your grandfather. 

“We are doing it. It’s my call” You sternly said as you walked towards the exit door and out into the lobby, leaving the men in the room.

*******************************************************************************************

The pounding of your heart was in your ears as you looked at Hyunjin. He stood in front of you, gun pointed at Minho. His eyes were dark, like he craved this. You felt hazy, nothing in that moment felt real. Your knees grew sore from being in the gravel. You looked up to the side of you and saw Minho. His eyes, sad and hurting. You thought he would cry. But how could he in this moment. But the gun in his hand at you didn’t feel staged anymore. Nothing felt right. You were beginning to question your sanity. Had all of this been a lie? Were you once again fooled? Your grandfather’s claps interrupted your thought process as you turned to him as he chuckled.

“All three of you. In one vicinity. How delightful it is to see sucha scene, and how pathetic it is to see the son of Hyun-woo sacrificing his life yet again for a woman.” Hyunjin clenched his jaw as he looked at you and you stared back. He was hard to read, something that never was difficult before. He looked busy in his mind, thinking about something deeply. You turned to Minho and he looked down at you as you tried to read him. Blank. You felt your heart beat quicken and the pit of your stomach felt light. Where were they? Why were the not with you?

“Since I have you three here, I might as well use this to my advantage.” your grandfather stepped closer and looked at Minho.

“Shoot her.” 

“Don’t you dare.”

“Shoot her Minho.” 

“Minho I swear to god, don’t you dare pull that trigger.” 

“No?” Your grandfather looked at Hyunjin and he smiled at him. “ Then you pull it Hyunjin. Pull yours.” 

You looked at the scene and felt tears brim your eyes. Nothing felt right and this was not the plan. You looked to Hyunjin and then Minho. Minho began to shake and you pleaded with your eyes. 

“I don’t care who pulls the trigger, it means nothing to me. One of you has to die anyways…” 

“You heard him Y/N.” Minho said softly and you looked at him in fear as he cocked his gun back and you saw the light escape his eyes, full blown rage. 

“One of us has to die.”

You raised your body straight up from the bed and began to gasp hard and felt your sweat dripping from your forehead. Your lungs felt tight and you couldn’t breathe. You felt the body next to you shoot up and a hand laid on your back. 

“Baby. Baby..” Hyunjin’s voice drowning in the back as you felt your panic attack wash over you and your eyes widened as he clasped his hands on you cheeks and made you face him 

“Baby, breathe. Honey, I need you to breathe.” 

You tried to catch a breath and you couldn’t, then you felt Hyunjin’s thumb stroke over your cheek as you failed to realize tears were falling from your eyes. You gripped his wrists and he placed his forehead on yours and connected your eyes. 

“Inhale... “ He spoke softly and inhaled breath as you stared back into his eyes following his commands. Trying sto intake air at a slow rate. 

“Exhale..” 

You breathe the air out staggering and followed Hyunjin’s breathing as he kept repeating it. Inhale. Exhale. Tears uncontrollably falling from your face and you felt the need to have him closer. You needed his skin and his warmth. You wrapped your arms around him as he began to stroke you mid back and cooed in your ear. 

“I’m here love. I’m right here.”

You cried into his bare shoulder, feeling his fingertips glide across your clothes back, lifting the edge of your shirt intimately. He placed kisses on your neck and shoulder as he comforted you. 

“It was a bad dream. Just a bad dream love.” 

You held him close and felt your breathing begin to sync up with his. He kept shushing you and  rocked you back and forth, his fingertips drawing comforting circles on you skin. He was your rock. This is what it was. You knew that life would be fine without him but to imagine a world where he wasn’t wit you like this made you sick. Through the good the bad, and the ugly. He stood by your side in these moments and never ran away. He always held you close, two hearts as one. Because with him, it was bliss, a piece of heaven. Every moment with him erased what life was , the revolving piece of hell that towered over you.. Suffocating. Hyunjin was your escape, your angel sent from above. You needed him. 

You pulled back and he once again placed his hand over your cheek, thumb stroking over the fallen tears. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your lips and you closed your eyes, letting the sensations overtake you, your heart calming down and coming back to normal. 

“You’re stressed out.” He whispered. 

You were. “I’m not.”

“You’re afraid.” He kissed you again and you shook your head. 

You were mortified. “I’m okay.”

“Y/N. That’s the third time this week.” 

You sighed and nodded. He was right. Tomorrow would be the day of the battle. Your execution. He was coming for you somehow, someway. You didn’t know what to expect, what was to come.. 

“I don’t know what he’s going to do to me.” You bit your lip giving up on trying to act tough.

“He won’t lay a hand on you.” Hyunjin grazed his fingertips up your arm as he stroked you. 

“What if I die..” 

“You won’’t.” 

“But what if I do-” 

“Y/N. I have spent my whole life searching for a purpose to live. I have allowed myself to submit to the order of being the leader of a mafia I don’t want. Meeting you, being with you, loving you, gives me purpose. I can not allow this man to put a stop to what is right. From what matters to me.” 

“You will not die tomorrow and I will make sure of it. I will protect you like I always have and I will never let you go.”

This was it. You knew it. This was the last time. The last night you and Hyunjin would have to feel drowned by the lives of those before you. The last time you two will have to live alive created for you. Your chance was now and you were going to take it, regardless of the consequences.

“Hyunjin..” 

He hummed in response and you looked at him.

“Make love to me.” 

Hyunjin stared at you for a moment and you looked into his brown orbs. He was so soft, so small. You trailed your hands up his neck and touched the ends of his soft blonde hair. He leaned forward and kissed your lips ever so softly. You felt every line on his lips as he molded into your mouth. His hands rubbed up your back as he leaned you back against the mattress and towered over you. Hyunjin kissed you with extreme passion, every move sent electricity down your spine. 

Hyunjin grounded his hips against your pelvis and you moaned into his lips as he sucked in air. You felt his member grow hard through the thin material of his boxers and you chuckled. Hyunjin pulled back with lust soaked eyes and smiled softly before playing kissed along your jawline and down your bare neck. His hands reached down to your hips and played with the hem of your shirt. You arched your back into his bare chest as he slowly glided his hands up the skin of your stomach and close to your breasts before his large hands clasped over your breast and rubbed you slowly. You hated the clothes between you so you took the initiative to remove your sleep shirt and have your chest exposed to him. Hyunjin groaned looking at your naked chest and began to pepper kisses around the top of your chest and over your boobs. His tongue extended and slowly licked over your nipple making the tingle shoot up your chest and you arched your back in pleasure again. He smirked against your skin as he began to pepper kisses down your stomach and above the lining of your sleeping shorts. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Hyunjin whispered looking at you as he used his hands to slide the shorts down your legs. You bit your lip in anticipation and you watched as Hyunjin was ready to go down on you but you lifted his head and pulled him closer to you for a kiss.

“I want to feel you inside me.” You whispered against his lips and he pulled back in a bit of shock but then agreed.

He pulled his boxers down and you watched as he pushed you gently back down to the bed. Hyunjin spread your legs open and wrapped them around his waist as he glided the head of his cock up and down your slit. He hissed at the warmth and wetness you gave as he coated his head with your juices. Hyunjin looked at you as he inserted himself into you, stretching you out. Your mouth agape as you moaned at the fullness he provided, Hyunjin collapsed his body on yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. Hyunjin began to thrusts his hips into you slowly, making you feel every vein and rigid ness of his member as he grazed your inner walls. You moaned into his ear as he grunted into you. He pulled himself up to look at you, strands of his blonde locks were taking from his tiny ponytail. He bent down to kiss you still pumping into you, a bit faster but every thrust had a meaningful moment. He wasn’t fucking you, he was giving all of himself to you. This was the most vulnerable and intimate way Hyunjin could show you his love.

You grasped him harder as he began to hit your g spot a few times.  “Fuck Hyun, do that again.” 

“You like that love?” He thrusted harder into you and you whined.

“God damn, Hyunjin.” 

“You feel so good around me, love. You always feel so good around me.”

Hyunjin was so close to you, the way he pounded into you was so hot. Your body temperature rising and your skin grew flush. The tip of his dick and the angle you two were in was enough for him to graze against your sweet spot time after time and you were clawing at his back, be going for release. 

“Oh my god Hyunjin, you’re gonna make me cum.” 

“Hyunjin then buried his lips near your ear as he thrusted at the same speed, your moans frowning louder and more frequent.

“I want you to cum around my dick baby girl. I want you to quiver and shake against me. Tell me how god I make you feel. How good I’ll always make you feel.” 

His words sent chills down your back and near your pussy. You felt yourself begin to clench around him as he whispered to the feeling.

“Ahh. AHH” you screamed and Hyunjin fucked into you harder as your walls tighten against him and squeezed him harder as he picked up the pace. You felt your body give out as Hyunjin kept thrusting into you at the same speed. Your orgasm flushed through you and began to pick right back up as he over stimulated you, chasing his own orgasm. 

“OH MY FUCK-“ you cried out as he pulled you to the side and began to thrust into you at a new angle. You groaned and Hyunjin whimpered. 

“Fuck i wanna cum too.”

“Please daddy, cum inside me.” 

Hyunjin lifted your leg up a bit still thrusting into you an you felt your second orgasm come as your walls began to clench again. You leaned your head back and cried out.

“Hyunjin fuck me oh my god.” 

Hyunjin then began to thrust more sloppily and you felt the spurts of his cum shot into you as he laid his head against your shoulder blade, and your orgasm washed over you. 

You both were breathing heavily and Hyunjin was thrusting into you lazily and slow as he gripped your chin and pulled you in for a soft kiss. You two stayed like that for a moment. This was it.

He wrapped his arm around you pulling you closer than ever before. His heart beating hard against your back and his breath down your neck. You moaned and snuggled closer to him as you closed your eyes and interlocked your hands together.

“This is it.” He said and you smiled and nodded, “This is the last time you and I will ever live like this.” 

“I wouldn’t want to have loved anyone else.”  You smiled and kissed his fingers and heard he smile

“Sorry you fell in love with your enemy.” He laughed and you chucked too at it and turns over to face him. You looked at his eyes and he looked back at you and you smiled.

“Hyunjin, I love you more than anything else in this world. And if something bad happens tomorrow, just know that you have been the most amazing part of my life.” Your words struck a nerve with Hyunjin, he felt compelled to pull you into his chest closer and kiss your forehead. You snuggled close and closed your eyes and he rubbed your naked back.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I promise.”

A/N: Everyone, we have reached the final two chapters of this series. Two more weeks left of this beautiful series. I think I might cry. But I am in the process of thinking about my next move... not sure what to do. But as always thank you for reading, loving, and just giving me the validation as a writer and human I need, I live for you all every week and I am so glad you came on this journey. Until next week loves. 

Taglist:   @hyunfeji @zenzedana @datura-inoxia@minaamhh @ninjaleeknow @beethiin @hyunsxle @hwangful @huntressfrost25 @exonations @p0t4t0don14ll​ @beaann​

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself. 

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that. 

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys. 

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present. 

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!” 

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed. 

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel. 

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing. 

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?” 

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.” 

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance. 

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch. 

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were. 

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?” 

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars). 

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside. 

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.” 

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking. 

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person. 

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien, 

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!” 

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her? 

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 23 – The Clock Ticks Life Away

Chapter 1     Chapter 22

Stupid hormones.  That was the only thing she could think.  Stupid hormones taking over her brain.  Hormones and frustration and stress from the impending fashion show. Of course Dick didn’t put his friend up to that.  Roy was just trying to protect his friend.  An incredibly assholish way to do it, but he was trying to look out for his friend.  Whatever Dick had been talking to him about, it had nothing to do what Roy did.  

Dick would never do that to her.  Dick had never lied to her, never treated her like he suspected her.  It was just her hormones and frustration at him being gone so often making her see things that weren’t there, which was extremely unfair of her.  He was only gone because of work.  He had to leave.  He didn’t want to.  He’d made that clear when he was with her.

She took a deep breath and smoothed the fabric over her baby bump.  She could do this.  Luckily, she hadn’t done or said anything bad.  But they still needed to talk about it, to clear the air and she had to be the one to take the first step because she was the one that broke it, well Roy broke it but she needed to tell Dick about it and see his reaction.  She clutched the container of chocolate cookies closer to her as she made her way into the Wayne Enterprises building and froze as soon as she made it past the front doors.  

She had entered this building so often, she knew the paths to Tim’s and Lucius’ offices better than she knew the path to her own studio.  But that wasn’t her destination today.  With a guilty twinge she realized she didn’t know the path she wanted to take.  She’d never been there before.  She let out a reproachful sigh and made her way to the reception desk.  “Hey, Teri,” she gave the front guard a smile.

Teri returned it with a bright smile, lighting up at seeing her.  “Hey, Miss. Dupain-Cheng.  How are you doing today?  Anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah.  I… um… can you tell me how to get to Dick’s office?” She kept her voice even, keeping the embarrassment out of it.  How could she have never visited his office?  They’d been together for six months now.

Teri gave her a confused look.  “I’m sorry?”

“Dick Grayson.  I wanted to surprise him but I realized I’ve… I’ve forgotten how to get there,” she elaborated.

Instead of clearing up, Teri’s confused look got deeper. “Mr. Grayson doesn’t work here, Miss. Dupain-Cheng.  He never has. Only Mr. Wayne and Mr. Drake work here from the family.”

Marinette stared at her blank faced.  That wasn’t right.  That… No, no, no.  He said… he told her…  She suddenly dropped the container of cookies and gasped for breath, having forgotten to breathe for the past few seconds.  She plastered on a fake smile.  “Sorry.  I thought Tim set him up with something to experiment.  He must have meant somewhere else.  Thank you, Teri,” she rushed to get out.  She grabbed the container of cookies and started heading to the exit. She paused and turned around. “Here, Teri.  You work too hard.  You deserve these.”  She tossed the cookies on the counter and took off out of the office as quickly as she could without drawing too much attention.

Teri watched after her.  Her confused expression morphed into a deep concern.  She picked up the phone to call up to Mr. Drake’s office. Miss Dupain-Cheng did not look okay and she thought Mr. Drake would want to know immediately so he could check on her. “Mr. Drake’s office,” the curt voice responded.

“Hey Tam.  This is Teri at the front desk.  I just had a strange incident with Miss Dupain-Cheng and I thought Mr. Drake might want to know.”

Tam was silent for a moment, weighing her options. “Mr. Drake is in a meeting right now, but I will let him know you want to talk to him as soon as it is over.”

“Thank you, Tam,” Teri answered gratefully.

<><><><><> 

He lied.  He lied.  He lied. He lied.  The mantra repeated itself in her mind over and over again. He’d lied to her.  Every time he said he had to leave for days at a time for work, it was a lie.  Every time he was late for something because of work, it was a lie.  Every time he left early because work called, it was a lie. Every time he promised to be somewhere then missed it because of work, it was a lie.  His words were lies.

She had been patient and understanding with all the absences because it was for work. He didn’t want to miss out on things, he had to.  He didn’t have a choice.  But that was all a lie.  He had a choice.  He wanted to leave.  He wanted to miss everything. What he didn’t want was to be with her.

She watched the clock as it ticked the time away. And he was late… again… after he promised he wouldn’t be anymore.  His promises were lies.  The time fell away and Marinette’s composure fell with it.  Which of his words could she trust?  Was there anything about their relationship that she could trust? Where had he been going when he left? What had he been doing that was so much more important than her and the babies?  That was so important he had to lie to her about it?

She eyed the clock again doing a quick calculation. Forty-five minutes.  He was forty-five minutes late with no warning, no call, no estimation of when he might get there.  Again.  Because why? Because she wasn’t worth the consideration?  Her mind was spinning, her heart was racing, her patience and understanding were gone, and her ire was rising.

At the forty-eight minute mark the front doors slammed open and Dick rushed into the room in a whirlwind of apologies and remorse. “I’m so sorry!  I’m so, so sorry.  I couldn’t get away.  I’m so sorry. Something came up at the last minute and I had to deal with it and then we had to reconfigure everything when… one of the men on the team ended up with a broken jaw somehow.”

“You’re late.”  

Her voice was deceptively calm.  There was a coolness to it that Dick wasn’t used to hearing from her.  Even when she was upset, she didn’t take that tone.  He knew he deserved it, but the unexpectedness unsettled him.  He braced himself for her to get angrier, because it was only going to get worse the more he spoke.  But there was no way around it.  They finally cracked it.  Donna put together the clues last night and now they knew.  They knew when the Court was going to strike and where.  They even knew the how.  Now they just needed to compile the evidence against everyone helping them and stop it. It was almost over.  They were almost done.  Just this one more thing and he was free.  “I know.  I know. But like I said, something came up and we had to figure out details for a trip we need to go on starting tomorrow.” Dick winced.

“You’re leaving… again.”  As predicted, her voice got colder even as a tone of incredulity snuck in in response to his announcement.

“I am.  I hope this is the last one.  I know the timing is terrible.  But I have to go,” he tried to placate her.  He knew it was bad, terrible really, but hopefully it was the worst of it. After this, if everything went right, after this, he could relax and focus entirely on her.

“For work…” she clarified with a sharp edge.

He gave her a curious look.  She knew that was why, or thought she knew that was why.  Why was she asking for clarification on that? “… Yes”

“Where is it you work again?”  Her voice was dangerously innocent.

He eyed her cautiously.  Where was this going?  “You already know.”

“Do I?”  The innocent tone in her voice was offset by the narrowed, accusatory eyes and pursed lips. Dick held his breath.  She knew.  She had to know.  “Why don’t you remind me?  Because I thought it was Wayne Enterprises.  Isn’t that what you told me?  You worked for Bruce at Wayne Enterprises.  In security.  I could have sworn that’s what you said.  Isn’t that right?”

“Mari…” his voice was timid.  They couldn’t have this conversation.  She couldn’t find out now.  Not now.

“Because when I went there today to talk to you to clear the air after yesterday, after your friend decided it was a good idea to test me by hitting on me, badly I might add, and see if I’d cheat on you…”

Dick’s whole body suddenly snapped up straight.  “Who did what now?” he growled, Roy’s broken jaw suddenly making a lot more sense and vastly not enough.  He asked Roy to stop being an asshole to her, not step it up. When he saw Roy again, it wouldn’t just be his jaw that was broken.

“I’m assuming with your permission,” she continued unperturbed.

“With my what?” he asked incredulously.

“And I went to Wayne Enterprises to apologize for getting upset by the situation, which is stupid really, because I had a right to be upset about it.  They told me you don’t work there.  You never have.  You lied to me.  All those times you left for work, you lied.” Her voice started to sound broken.  Tears started welling in her eyes.  She was barely keeping them in, but she refused to cry right now.  Now wasn’t the time for tears, it was the time for answers.  She needed answers.  She needed something true to hold onto because right now?  Right now, she was drifting into nothingness.

“Mari…” he tried to sooth her.

“So I have to wonder, where you were all those times. Where were you going when you were abandoning me?  Where were you going when you forgot about me?  What were you doing that was more important?”  She threw her hands out, begging him for a reason, an explanation, some comfort.  She was lost. She was stumbling in the dark and she needed reassurance.  She needed him to come back.

“Mari, I promise you…” he started breathlessly.

“Your promises don’t mean much right now,” she growled.

“Mari, I promise you it was important,” he tried again, his voice pleading with her.  The promises comment hurt, but it was deserved, an indication of the damage he had done to their relationship.

“That’s what you said before.  So explain it to me.  What were you doing?  Where were you going?  This is your chance.” she demanded, cutting off his inner monologue.

He opened his mouth, but what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t say anything yet.  “Mari, I can’t.”  His eyes were imploring her to understand.  He wasn’t the bad guy.  He wasn’t using her.  He wasn’t just blowing her off.  This was for her, not against her.

“No,” she answered harshly, “this is your chance right now.  Explain it to me.  Was it all lies?”

“No!” God, why was it all falling apart.  Everything terrorizing doubt and nightmare was coming true.  She knew before he could explain and now she didn’t trust him.  “No.  Mari, I love you.”

She shook her head like she wanted to believe it but couldn’t.  “But you’re still leaving tomorrow for what a day, a week, a month?”

“A few weeks,” he admitted begrudgingly.

“During which time we won’t be able to talk at all,” she continued.

“I can’t.”  That was the line he wasn’t willing to cross.  If they got compromised, he refused to allow any link to Marinette, any link they could follow to find and harm her.

“And you won’t tell me why.”  Her voice was accusing and angry but her eyes betrayed how hurt she was.

He opened his mouth to give a longer explanation, but immediately closed it.  There was none to give, not yet.  “No.”

She drew in a long, shuttering breath.  He wasn’t willing to tell her.  He was willing to just watch her walk away rather than just tell her.  Whatever it was, it was more important than her and always would be. Was that something she was willing to live with?  Always being less important than God knows what?  Maybe, if she was honest.  She might be willing to live with that, but she wasn’t willing to let her children live with that.  She couldn’t just think of herself anymore.  She had to think of what was best for them.  “Just go,” she croaked, her voice breaking along with her heart.  “Go on your trip to wherever it is you go with whoever it is you spend time with.  Go where you really want to be.  Just leave, like you clearly want to anyway.”

“That’s not fair,” Dick cried.  “I don’t want to leave.  I have to.”

“Why?” she begged him.  Tears she could no longer hold in, despite her best efforts, were starting to fall.  “Why do you have to leave?”

“I’m protecting my family,” he screamed out in frustration. He winced, immediately wishing he could take it back.

“No,” she seethed.  Her face switched from pleading tears to anger in an instant.  Her quivering lips now taunt, glassy eyes now hard. “I spent three years getting terrorized, living through Hell because of that reasoning.  That is the only defense Gabriel would give.  It’s still the defense he gives, ‘I was protecting my family,’ like that makes everything he did okay.”

He knew that.  He knew better.  That phrase brought back all the attacks she’d had to go through, all the deaths she watched and experienced herself, and the perfect trauma that was Chat Blanc.  It triggered massive anxiety attacks for her, or in this case, fury.  “’I was protecting my family’ does not absolve all sins.  It does not make things okay.  So, I’m going to need more than that.”

Dick opened his mouth and immediately closed it. Even if he wanted to tell her he was about to go into a dangerous, potentially deadly mission, he couldn’t tell her here.  There was nothing he could do right now, no way he could fix it.  He would tell her after he got back, but he couldn’t tell her right now.  He couldn’t add that stress onto her.  He just needed her to trust him for a little bit longer.  He just needed a bit of faith.  Hadn’t he earned that?  Was that too much to ask?  He screwed up with the lie, but hadn’t everything else proved he was worth a bit of faith?  “I can’t give you more than that.  Not yet. Give me a few weeks…” he begged lowly.

She groaned and pulled on her hair in frustration. “Damn it, Dick!  Why…”

“Marinette Du…” a voice from the doorway called out before trailing off uncomfortably.

Marinette and Dick immediately stopped arguing and shrank back from each other, still breathing hard.  Marinette fought back the new wave of tears and shook her head to change focus.  She chuckled stiffly and offered a wide, strained smile.  “Sorry.  This must be so awkward.  This is…” she looked away, eyes darting over to Dick for a moment before returning to the nurse.  “Sorry about this.  Let’s just go back, please.”

“I can…” Dick started starting to move towards the door to the doctor’s offices.

“No!” Marinette cut him off coldly.  “You have more important things to do.  An important trip to prepare for.”  She turned and walked back through the doors to the offices behind.  

The nurse looked back and forth between the door and Dick a few times before scurrying after Marinette with an awkward, “Right then.”

Dick growled and kicked one of the waiting room chairs, accidentally sending it flying across the room.  This is not how this was supposed to end.  This was not how their story was supposed to go.  And there was nothing he could do.  He couldn’t fix this right now.  He had to leave her like this until he got back.  Damn it!  Why couldn’t the universe have waited a few weeks?  As soon as the Court’s plot was stopped or maybe as soon as the twins were born, he could tell her everything.  

Why did it have to happen now?  He needed to be somewhere else.  He needed to focus on the trip.  He couldn’t focus on this now.  If the mission fell through now they’d lose all their progress.  It would all be for nothing, all the lost time, all the missed appointments, all the times he’d disappointed Marinette, for nothing.  It couldn’t be for nothing.  He had to make it worthwhile.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone going off. Dick reluctantly pulled out his phone and looked at the caller, Tim.  He sighed.  “What’s up, Tim?” he asked with a defeated sigh.

“She knows!” Tim yelled at him desperately. “Marinette found out you don’t work here.”

“Yeah, no fucking kidding,” Dick grumbled leaning against his motorcycle.

“You saw her already?”  Dick could hear Tim’s grimace through the phone.

“Yeah.”

“Things go badly?” Tim’s voice was appropriately tentative, like he already knew the answer but felt the need to ask anyway.

“No, it went peachy,” Dick snapped.  “She loved that I lied to her, that I’ve been lying to her since we met, and couldn’t explain why.”

Tim hesitated for a few seconds before offering a heartfelt, “I’m sorry, Dick.”

“Yeah, me too,” he sighed, trying to fight back his own tears.

“What are you going to do?”

“Stop this plot then fix this.”

“… In… Is that the order you want to do it in?” Tim asked cautiously.

“We need to stop the plot now.  We lose this, we lose everything.  It has to be now,” Dick answered resolutely.

Tim sighed and didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Jason was right.  You’re such a fucking dumbass,” Tim said angrily before hanging up on him.

Chapter 24

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

[remmushound]

Part 12 of my bay/rise crossover! @brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88

It hurt. Everything hurt and he didn't know where he was and he felt sick. He bellowed out into the cold, dark room. He cried again, this time louder as he tried to stand on instead legs. His head spun. Powerful bounds around his wrists and ankles held him down, and moving sent electricity down the length of his body that made him roar. Something on his face covered his eyes— not his mask, something far darker. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t move— he couldn’t hear anything other than his own echo. He was alone.

****

“... come to find out it wasn’t really a car show. It was a destruction derby and I… he just wanted to use my car to win it so he could get another trophy.”

“I cannot understand how upsetting that must have been for you.” Splinter’s head was low as he watched the steam rise off of his tea, “I am certain you treasure your creations just as much as my Donatello. I am sure your father meant no harm, but even the best of intentions can come off as… less than that. When my son was having diffuclties as leader, he said and did many things that upset his brothers.”

“Really? My Raph’s never done anything like that.”

“Your Raphael?” Splinter looked to Donatello curiously as he sipped his tea.

“Yeah. I mean, he has his moments but he’s usually pretty chill toward us— the stress of being the leader leader gets to him sometimes but—“

Splinter choked on his tea. He dropped the cup in favor of covering his mouth during the intense coughing fit that followed. The cup shattered on the ground and spilled tea all across the cold stone of the lairs floor.

Donatello sipped his tea calmly. “You okay, buddy?”

Splinter waved that he was fine as he slowly recovered from the fit. Donatello helped himself to another buiscit.

“Ah— my apologizes, Donatello. Your words just started me is all.”

“Ok.” Donatello didn't ask why. “These are really good buiscit.”

“Thank you, but a… clarification question if I may?”

“Ok.”

“You did just state that your Raphael was your leader, correct?”

“Yeah? He’s the oldest, so leader by proxy. Why?”

“I apologize— when I stated my son was having some difficulties, I should’ve clarified it was Leonardo. The leader of my sons…”

“Gasp. Now it is my turn to choke.” Donatello put his cup to his lips and purposely inhaled some of it. He immediately fell to coughing just Splinter. “ACK! GAG! CHOKING NOISES!”

“You really are a curious fellow.” Splinter hid his mouth with another cough as he laughed. The mutant’s ears pricked to attention at the sound of a disturbance from the opposite side of the lair. “I believe we are not alone.”

Donatello wiped his mouth and looked behind him trying to see whatever Splinter had seen.

“Stay here.” Splinter gave Donatello a pat on the shoulder as he ran past.

Donatello gasped, and then squealed. “OH AM GOSH! A positive touch from a parent aged adult! Dreams really do come true!”

Donatello drank the rest of his tea happily, starting to wiggle in his seat to try and get his nervous energy out. All of the anxiety flooded right back into him when he heard Splinter’s loud scream.

“Splinter!” Donatello was on his feet and running before his mind could catch up, initially on the rats trail but quickly turning paces when he spotted a broom in a corner. He grabbed it, holding it like it was his own staff, and sprinted finally into the room Splinter had entered.

The rat had his own staff at the ready, backed into a corner with his eyes locked on the beast that filled a great deal of the room. The snapping turtle's jaws were frothing over with white foam in his panic, his tail lashing like a whip to further show the agitation of the red beast. Around his wrists and ankles were ropes that had once held him down, now snapped at the base and swinging as he struck out wildly and blindly toward the assumed attacker. Raphael couldn’t see them— his eyes were covered with a tight blindfold that made him lash his head back and forth trying to find any stimuli to tell him where he was.

Donatello recognized the fearful motions immediately— he’d lived with Raphael all his life and learned to recognize the motions his brother would go through for fear or anger or pain, and this wasn’t the second. But one so unused to recognizing the different cues that the snapping mutant had could easily misinterpret any one of them as an anger response.

Splinter brought his staff down at the bridge of Raphael’s shell trying to force him into a corner. Raphael roared in response and swiped a counter strike, just barely missing the staff's quick motions as it hit him in several more places though it was more like gentle, guiding taps.

“Wait— nonono!”

Raphael made a sharp movement when he heard Donatello’s voice and tried to search for it, colliding with Splinter and making the rat stumble slightly before he found a more secure footing.

“Raph, it’s me!” Donatello ran forward, trying to reach for the blindfold, but the moment he touched Raphael, the mutant shouted and slammed a massive fist into Donatello’s stomach.

Donatello stumbled back into the wall, gagging and clutching as he stomach as he tried to both catch the breath that had been knocked from him and try not to throw up. He did, of course, have plating over his plastron just as his brothers did— it was just covered with soft skin instead of hard keratin—but the bone only served to make the pain worse somehow as Raphael’s fist collided with enough force to knock a grown man off his feet.

Raphael immediately recognized who he had hit and started to panic even more.

“Don-nee?” His head thrashed back and forth trying to shake off the blindfold obscuring his vision.

Donatello tried to call out to him, but only a wheeze was produced.

“Donatello, stay where you are.” Splinter took a defensive pose in front of Donatello.

“Nah…” Donatello tried finally, pushing himself off the wall and trying to stumble to his brother's aid, but Splinter’s tail directed him back. “Don’t hurt—“

“I’m not.”

“But he doesn’t know that!”

Splinter jabbed the tip of his staff into Raphael’s chest, making the savage mutant grunt and try to grab at whoever kept poking him.

“I swear… ah…” Donatello felt his way across the wall trying to get behind Raphael without being hurt again or singled out— if he could separate his noise from the racket Splinter was making, then maybe— “I’m… so gonna beat those other turtles shells… if I have any spoons left by time they get back. RAFFEREL!”

Raphael grunted and turned quickly at the sound of the voice.

“Listen to me! Your name is Hamato Red, but when you were nine and me and Leo were eight and Mikey was seven we all chose names we thought were cooler from an old library book April gave us, and you became Hamato Sanzio Raphael.”

Raphael listened intently, his breathing still labored and body tensed, but all senses locked onto Donatello. Splinter stopped his assault to listen as well.

“And when we were little hatchlings and you’d go into your fits, dad always calmed you down with the Chūgoku lullaby. And Leo and Mikey and I were always jealous because you got your own lullaby, but every night Splinter would sing the Takeda lullaby to all of us before we went to sleep. Do you remember the Chūgoku lullaby?”

Raphael didn't respond.

“Come on. You know how it goes! Nenneko shasshari mase, neta ko no kawasi… okite naku ko no… nenkororo, tsura nikusa, nekororon, nenkororon…”

As Donatello went slowly through the lullaby, Raphael started to chur softly and sway. Halfway through he started to hum along, and once Donatello was sure Raphael was calm, he approached Raphael without stopping the song. Donatello reached gently to Raphael’s head, hesitating as the great beast flinched but quickly recovering enough to take off the blindfold.

As Raphael blinked in the sudden light, Donatello gently fell to unbinding the ropes from Raphael’s wrists, and the song wrapped up perfectly as he removed the final knot.

“There we are.”

“Don!”

Donatello screamed as he was yanked into a hug, then fell to growing as Raphael rubbed his cheek against Donatello’s battle shell.

“Oh come on Raph you know I’m afraid of togetherness—“

Raphael moved to rest his head on top of Donatello’s, holding the softshell tightly to his plastron. “You’re okay…”

“Of course I’m okay you idiot you threw yourself on top of me!”

Raphael kissed the top of Donatello’s head and continued to hum happily while the softshell struggled for his freedom.

“Oh, really? Really with the kiss? You were just trying to kill me two seconds ago!” Despite his words, Donatello’s heart flooded with warmth at the snapping turtles quick rebound from beast to brother.

“Donnie, I don’t feel good…” Raphael sniffled.

“What kind of don’t feel good?”

“Like I’m gonna be sick.” Raphael stuck his tongue out, “And my back hurts- it is bad—?”

Donatello grabbed Raphael’s face before he could turn around to look at the bandages, forcing the snapper to look back at him. “He probably just gave you oxycodone to help with the pain.”

“Oh okay.” Raphael nodded, not quite understanding but trusting his brother's judgement. “But uh. Who is ‘he’?”

“I may be able to help best.”

Raphael gave a confused grunt and turned around, pulling Donatello along with him as he saw Splinter for the first time.

“Hey, pops got taller! Good for him.”

“That’s not dad you idiot— well it is kinda— but not our dad!”

Raphael blinked. “Raph is confused!”

Splinter laughed, finally letting his staff back down into a relaxed position and resting on it. “I’m going to need so much more tea.”

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Our First Defeat

Chapter 1: You’ve Cut Me to the Bone

Uh, oh- guess what time it is? That’s right chicks, dicks, and everyone in betwix(t)....

It’s ‘another series that should’ve just been a straightforward one shot’ time!!!!

This is probably going to be at least a four parter, so buckle up buttercups.

Warnings: Smut, infidelity, oral, cum play, longing, ANGST, Lewis being a shitty husband to Katherine, run-on sentences, feels, probably OOC Nixy-poo, childhood f2l mention, mentions of prom sex so underage I guess(?), potty words, rich people parties, reader is tipsy when they boink but so is Nix and it’s pre-established desire so idk man

Special thanks to @sunsetmando​ for being my constant idea sounding board and cheerleader and to @liebgotttme​ and @mrsalwayswrite​ for their unfalteringly supportive praise despite my constant self-inflicted shit talking!

Title and chapter names will come from the first defeat by noah gundereson

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Say what you wanted to about Doris and Stan Nixon, but they sure threw one hell of a party.

 Waiters in sharp suits, sparkling crystal glasses filled with golden champagne, marble floors polished to a near reflective shine- nothing but the very best for the engagement party for Mrs. Nixon’s baby boy.

If your heart hadn’t already become calloused from heartbreak, you probably would burst into tears.

You’d known the Nixons all of your life, and with Nixon being a year and a half your senior and his younger sister being three years your junior, the three of you had little choice to become anything other than close. Even when Lewis had grown old enough to get sick of girls and their games of dress up and make-believe, you and he still managed to get along.

 You were both the oldest children in your families, and for a while you had also attended the same advanced reading course offered by your private elementary school’s librarian. Your shared love of books had bonded you nearly as much as your shared birth orders, and it wasn’t uncommon for your parents to find you both nose deep in one of your father’s large tomes of mythology.

 It surprised no one that the two of you became close as you got older. 

What did strike both of your families as odd was just how close you two stayed- especially when you both started attending your respective boy’s and girl’s boarding schools. You’d been each other’s penpals, school dance dates, and summer trip companions.

 After your Junior prom, you’d lost your virginities to each other after polishing off two bottles of lethally strong port wine. Nixon, sex-drunk and just plain old drunk-drunk, had insisted that he’d done ‘other things’ with girls- that he wasn’t really a virgin but he’d yet to actually do the act. 

As if he was worried that you’d make fun of him.

 As if you’d think less of him for it.

 Of course, things had changed once college came around.

He became busy with his studies, and you had thrown yourself into attaining your nursing credentials. He’d gotten a fair share of girlfriends and you’d had a few relationships of your own.

 When your families would get together for holidays and birthdays, the two of you would inevitably sneak off and fuck until one of you decided that someone was going to notice your absences.

 Then, after rejoining everyone else for an appropriately deemed amount of time, you’d rush off again to repeat the cycle. Sex with Lewis was everything you’d been told you shouldn't want- hard and desperate and just left of dirty but God did you love it. You loved the way your bodies fit together, the way his breath felt on your neck as he held onto you so tightly that you thought he might leave bruises. The way he kissed you as if he were drinking the air from your lungs, like he needed your lips in order to breathe, to live.

 More than anything, you loved the ease that existed between you two- the way you both helped the other redress and how he would take your face in his hands and call you sweet things as he gave you languid kisses before giving you a wicked grin and guiding you both back to the party.

 It wasn’t ideal, and more often than not you’d feel hollow again after a few days, but your trysts with Lew were the closest thing you had to a consistent relationship.

 When Pearl Harbor happened, you’d made the decision to enlist as a field nurse. Nixon had begun to attend an Officer’s school, so you’d already started to resign yourself to the fact that this fling of yours could never be anything more than just that, a fling. Apparently he had, too.

 You’d felt like you had been punched in the stomach when you heard about Katherine.

 He hadn’t even told you that he was seriously seeing someone, let alone considering marrying anyone.

It had hurt more than you wanted to admit.

How you managed to keep a straight face when his mother proudly told you and your mother about the engagement, you’ll never know.

 All you did know was that he’d made a choice, and it wasn’t you.

And you had to get over it.

 Even so, it had still taken both your mother and your father to convince you to come to this party tonight. Your brother and sister had been allowed to stay home- they were still considered too young to attend such frivolous events. 

Lucky bastards.

 But you’d let your mother dress you in a velvet gown of indigo-violet decorated with rhinestones across the bodice and sleeves, allowed your younger sister to braid your hair in a halo around your head (despite your mother’s plea for you to wear it in a more fashionable and mature style) and even gotten a grumble of a compliment from your sulking teenage brother and greeted the Nixon’s with the same amount of warmth you always had.

 If nothing else, finishing school had taught you well when it came to hiding your true feelings.

 Katherine was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, her hair shiny and her skin perfect and her body curvy and tight in all the right places. Her sky blue dress draped across her form perfectly, as if it had been made for her.

Her hands were graceful and delicate- the perfect canvas for the huge diamond ring Nix had bestowed upon her.

 To make matters worse? You liked her.

She was smart and well-spoken, with a habit of interrupting someone mid-sentence but that wasn’t enough to make you dislike her.

 “Lew’s sung your praises for years,” Katherine had smiled smally after you’d introduced yourself to her. “it’s wonderful to finally put a face to the name….”

“It’s all lies, most likely,” you assured with a grin, a sudden realization hitting you. “Speaking of Little Lew—”

Katherine rolls her eyes and offers a conspiratory whisper.

“Pretty sure he’s stress smoking somewhere upstairs. I’ve been trying to get him to quit—”

You snort at that. “Then you are far braver than most, and you have my respect.”

 You look over your shoulder, frowning as you took in the scene.

Turning back to Katherine, you give her a nod.

“I’ll hurry him along,” you murmur softly. “Drag him down by the ear if I’ve got to—”

“Consider my respect earned in kind, then.”

Sharing a smile, you politely excuse yourself and slip away up the stairs.

 You had a feeling that you knew exactly where Nix was hiding.

~

The formal library was dark wood and warm leather, with deep seats and cigar smoke stained books that sat on shelves so high that even the tallest man needed to utilize the built-in ladder to reach the top.

As children, you and Lewis had spent countless hours reading of far-away lands and exotic adventures, darting back and forth between whatever book you’d decided on and the grand globe by the window to trace your fingers over countries neither of you would probably ever actually visit.

This room held your sweetest memories, as well as some of your racier ones.

 Finding Lewis in here was only fitting.

 He looked unbearably handsome- sat on the windowsill with the wind fluttering his hair across his forehead while the moon lit up his profile and made him look like some exquisite marble statue.

The cigarette between his lips reminded you of all the times he’d smoke after fucking you, the way he’d exhale the smoke into your parted lips before kissing you so deeply your toes would curl.

 “I could get used to this,” he’d said, after one of your last trysts.

“What, smoking yourself to death in your dad’s library?”

He’d shot you a glare before attacking your neck with kisses that left you giggling from how they tickled your skin.

“No, Smartass,” Lewis said as he nudged your nose with his, a lazy smile clear on his face when he lifted his head away from you enough to meet your eyes. “This, with you. Not having to rush off before your mom comes looking for you. It’s nice….”

 That felt like a lifetime ago.

 “If you frown at the moon any longer,” you call out, smirking at the way he startles before realizing it’s just you. “You’re gonna get a wrinkle before all the wedding photos.”

 He shoots you a look, shaking his head before turning to stub out the cigarette in the silver ashtray.

“Not even gonna lull me into a false sense of security before giving me shit, huh?”

With a practiced ease, he gently slides the window back into place and locks it, fanning the lingering wafts of smoke from around his face before turning to fully face you.

 A familiar smile crosses his face that has you rolling your eyes.

“Well, I’ve gotta get all I can out of my system- now that you’ve gone and replaced me.”

 With another withering look, Lew comes up and kisses your cheek before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and another around your waist to lower you into a dipped hug.

 “Hey now,” he grumbles into the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your neck and causing you to shiver. “I think you’re underestimating your talents if you think anyone can fling smartass comments my way better than you- oh!”

 Twisting you back up so you’re both standing, he pushes the door to the library closed to get to the bookshelf behind it. 

 With curiosity, you watch him pull a book from the shelf and present it to you with a flourish.

“A gift for you, my lady.”

 Rolling your eyes, you take the book in your hands and peer at the cover.

 You recognize the title immediately as a Poirot mystery, a grin breaking across your lips as you realize it’s one of your favorites- a collection of short stories featuring the Belgian detective and Captain Hastings.

 As you open the book, you suck in a breath when you see the scrawl of Agatha Christie’s signature across the title page, and upon further inspection, you realize it’s a first edition.

 “Holy shit, Lew…” you whisper, running your fingertip across the indents in the paper her heavy-handed scrawl. “Where’d this come from? How’d you know….?”

 Looking up at Lewis again, you are slightly embarrassed by the amused expression on his face, deciding to look back down rather than acknowledge how clearly he was watching your reaction.

 “Well,” he begins, stepping behind you to squeeze your shoulders. “It came from a bookshop, believe it or not—”

 “Lewis—”

 “And as for the how….Blanche told me in one of her letters.”

 That gives you pause again- the reminder that you and he hadn’t written anything to each other in quite some time.

 Clearing your throat, you set the book down on one of the desks and bring a hand up to rest over one of his. “That’s very…..thank you.”

 You feel him press a quick peck to the crown on your head, something you were fine with until you left the pressure of his lips lingering there.

 “I hope, uh…hoped you’d also take it as a sort of, er- peace offering, of sorts….”

 You feel your shoulders tense at that. The blood in your veins suddenly feels cold and dead.

You’d hoped he wouldn’t do anything like this- wouldn’t bring any of this up.

 “I’m sure I don't know what you’re talking about—”

“Yes you do.”

 Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you turn around to face him. 

 “There’s nothing to offer peace for,” it’s taking more effort than you like to keep your voice even. “What you do with your life is none of my business.”

 “It doesn’t change the fact that you should’ve heard about it from me,” he says quietly, and as his breath fans across your face you can pick up the sweet bite of whiskey beneath the smell of cigarette smoke. “That was….I should’ve been the one to tell you—”

 “I don’t see why you felt you had to.” You give him a tight smile, working hard to keep yourself from scowling. “It’s not like we made any promises to each other….which I thought was the whole appeal of me, if I’m being honest.”

 Lewis brings his hands up to brush against your jaw, the unexpectedly soft touch making you shudder before you can stop yourself

 “You’ve got to have known that I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Y/N—”

 “Don’t say that,” you hiss under your breath, biting the insides of your lip and shaking your head. “That’s unfair, you can’t do this- it’s wildly unfair to Katherine, it’s not fair to me—”

 Lewis scoffed at that, a rueful smirk twisting his face as he let his eyes trail down your face.

 “‘Unfair’....what’s unfair is asking me to go down there and pretend like everything’s hunky-dory when you’re here, looking like everything I’ve ever wanted in my goddamned life and expecting me to act like I wasn’t wishing you were on my arm instead—”

 “Jesus Christ, Lewis, that’s enough—” you cross your arms across your chest as you step back out of his touch and turn to look at the wall of books. “What’s the matter with you? I’ve always known you could be an asshole, but this is cruel, even for you—”

 “How am I being an asshole?” he snaps, taking your shoulders and turning you back to face him, his frown deep and imploring. “Because I’m being honest? Huh? ‘Cause I’m telling you the truth—?”

 “Because you’re telling me the truth now!” you say venomously, letting your own face morph into a scowl. “Tonight, the fucking night where we’re all here to celebrate you and Katherine getting married! You can’t just expect me to not respect that—”

 “What if I told you I didn’t even want to marry her—?”

“Lower your voice!”

 You don’t realize how close you’ve gotten to each other until you accidentally scuff your toes against the side of his polished shoe, something that shocks you out of your anger like a cold splash of water.

 His cheeks are rosy with both drink and frustration, and you’re pretty sure that your face is flushed as well. Closing your eyes, you sigh and hang your head.

 “If you didn’t want this,” you say a bit more calmly. “Then why did you ask her in the first place?”

 You startle slightly at the feeling of him taking your hand, opening your eyes to watch him bring it to his clean-shaven cheek and hold it there. His eyes look tired, sad almost.

 “Because I’m being shipped out soon,” he sighs heavily, twisting his head enough to press a kiss to your palm as the air whooshes out of your lungs in a pained sigh. “Because it’s what’s expected of me.”

Meeting your hesitant gaze, he offers a sad little smile and a shrug.

“Because it couldn’t be you, I didn’t really care who it was—” 

 Quickly, you take back control of the hand he’s holding and put your fingertips gently over his lips, your throat feeling tight at the admission.

“Don’t,” you whisper shakily. “Don’t finish that sentence….”

 Taking your hand again, he moves it away from his mouth.

 “Why not?” he says back just as quietly, eyes scanning your face. “Am I being an asshole?”

 You shake your head, chest tightening as you take in his confession. “You’re breaking my heart all over again.”

 He nods, his jaw clenching as he studies you. “I keep doing that, don’t I?”

 When you don’t show any sign of amusement at his comment, he encourages you to wrap an arm around his neck as he pulls you into another borderline inappropriate embrace. A hug that was better suited for two lovers rather than two friends grieving a future that was entirely hypothetical.

 His lips press to the side of your throat, inhaling the smell of your skin deeply and slowly.

“I don’t mean to,” he whispers, splaying his large hand across the small of your back. “I really want you to know that.”

 You stay silent, focusing all of your energy into not crying.

 Even if he had asked you to marry him, you would’ve had to say no.

Married women were unwelcome in all branches of military nursing- and you had worked too hard to ever consider giving that dream up.

Not even for Lewis Nixon….although you probably would’ve thought about it harder.

 “I sometimes wish we’d never kissed,” you say with emotion in your voice, letting him hold you even closer at your hushed admission. “I wish I didn’t care about you, then we wouldn’t have to be like this…”

 “I don’t,” he mumbled against your skin. “I wouldn’t take any of this back- even if I could.”

 You shake your head sadly as you bring your other arm around his shoulders to more fully embrace him.

“That’s because you’re a masochist almost as much as you are a sadist—”

 He groans at that, taking his face from your neck to press his cheek against yours.

“I knew getting you those Freud books was a mistake….”

 This time you allow yourself to sigh a laugh. “Only because they seem to hit the nail on the head when it comes to explaining why you are how you are.”

 “An asshole?”

 “Yeah, Lew.” you gently break free of his embrace and smooth your hands down the front of his tuxedo- straightening his bowtie on the way. “Now you’re getting it.”

 He looks as if he’s going to say something else, but you force a smile on your face and shake your head.

“C’mon, Mr. Nixon,” you say with a nod. “Your public awaits you. Best not keep them waiting.”

 “Y/N—” He calls as you turn on your heel and walk to open the door.

 “I’ll see you down there, Lewis.”

 With that admonishing reminder, you open the door and hurry to find the restroom in order to collect yourself.

Dinner was going to be hell.

~

Of course, Doris sat you beside where Lewis was seated in the middle of the table- Katherine on his left and you on his right.

 “Surrounded by his favorite girls,” Mrs. Nixon had cooed, standing behind Lewis’s chair and squeezing his shoulders excitedly. “What a lucky man you are….”

 They had only just served the soup and already you wanted to crawl out of your skin.

The only things that saved you were wine and the endless stream of one-sided conversation from Katherine’s young cousin Marcus, who sat to your right.

 He couldn’t have been more than sixteen- eyes wide and battle-hungry as he prattled on about the training courses he planned on enrolling in so that he could go to Japan and take revenge for the lives lost during Pearl Harbor. It served as a good distraction from the feeling of Lew’s eyes on your profile, silently begging you to turn and look at him.

 You didn’t give in.

 Marcus’s heart was in the right place, and it wasn’t his fault that you were trying to drown your distress in the sea of white wine you were creating inside of your belly. 

But you had the feeling that if you had to listen to any more talk of what his brother had told him about the Navy and how prestigious their ships were, you were going to smack your head against the table until you passed out.

 The only person who seemed to pick up on your distress was Lewis, and right now you were pretty committed to ignoring his attempts of conversation- hoping that by doing so you were strong-arming him into actually talking to Katherine, who was being so charming and well mannered that you felt like you were suffocating.

 As you brought your fourth glass of wine to your lips, Lew decided to speak rather than just look.

 “Think maybe you should slow down, Y/N?” Lewis says it quietly enough that only you and Katherine can hear him, and when you turn to face him you catch the sight of the other woman suppressing a chuckle into her glass of sparkling water. 

A drop of resentment stains your previously high regard for her- her slight amusement being amplified to condescension in your current bitter state.

 “Don’t worry ‘bout me, Little Lewie,” you say with a light slur in your voice- one that only those who truly knew you would be able to detect. 

As a child, you’d had a slight speech impediment that you’d grown out of with proper training and practice. It was only when you were overly tired or when you drank that it slipped back into your speech.

You could feel that now, its presence heavy on your tongue.

“Just gettin’ it outta my system while I’ve still got the chance……”

 When you're able to find his eyes with your own, you see the concern shining in them and suddenly feel like you want to cry. 

 You can’t help but think that this could’ve been yours- your engagement party, your future.

You’d say that the ring on Katherine’s finger could’ve been yours as well, but if you were being honest you found it too gaudy and flashy for your taste.

Lewis probably would’ve known that, too….would’ve chosen something significantly smaller and much more simple to present to you while down on one knee.

 But he’s not mine, should’ve stopped thinking of him as mine a long time ago.

 Without another word to him you slid your chair back from the table and stood, nodding appreciatively to the butler who instantly appeared to scoot the chair back into place.

Your mother, who was sitting closer to the door, gave you a worried look as you made to walk past her, silently asking if you were alright.

 With a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you gently placed your hand on her shoulder in false reassurement that you were just fine. You mouth the word ‘bathroom’, as you passed her and exited the dining room.

 How you managed not to run up the staircase in search of somewhere you could let your mask of contentment fall away, you have no idea.

But you did. Your finishing school teachers would’ve been proud.

 Rushing through the library you knew better than the back of your hand, you quickly found the small, slightly hidden room behind a sculpture that held all the wealth of paper and writing supplies.

 The door barely shuts behind you before you suck in a shaking breath, face hot with tears you were refusing to shed. Each exhale sounds as if it’s being punched out of you, hands reaching out into the dark to feel for the wall so you can find the small footstool to sit upon.

 You were right, you couldn’t do this.

 It was too much, despite how desperately you’d tried to callous over the raw part of your heart that still ached for him. Resting your head in your hands, you try to slow your breathing, to muffle to sobs begging to be freed from your chest.

 The sound of the door clicking open has you shooting to your feet in surprise, the wine in your blood making itself known as you teeter slightly and you have to brace your hand against the wall to steady yourself.

The snap of the light being turned on makes you squint at the sudden brightness, the sight of Lewis breathing heavily as he leans against the door to close it behind him making your heart race even faster.

 “You shouldn’t-” you have to sniff quickly before finishing your admonishment. “You really shouldn’t be here, Lewis.” 

 He nods, his Adam's apple jumping in his throat as he swallows, eyes trailing up and down your body. “I know.”

Even as he says it, Lewis starts walking towards you. “I should go….”

 Your own breathing has become deep and heavy, lips parted to accommodate the sudden desperate need for more air in your lungs.

Mind having failed you, you search for the right words to send him away- to tell him that what’s about to happen is wrong and that you’re just making it harder on yourselves in the long run.

But all you can think as he reaches you, his hands coming up to hold your face with an unmistaken intention, is that you are going to explode if he doesn’t kiss you right now.

 Lucky for you, his thoughts seem to be similarly inclined.

 He kisses you so hard that you think your lips will bruise, his hands pulling your face so desperately close that his eyelashes tickle your cheeks as his eyes squeeze shut.

As you moan somewhere deep in your throat, Lewis opens his mouth to swallow the sound. His hair is soft in your hands, your fingers fisting and pulling at it until he makes a groan of his own.

 You allow yourself to rise up on your toes to make his head tilt back slightly, gasping into his lips when he suddenly uses his grip on your face to pull your mouth back from his.

He licks his bottom lip, whispering your name so you open your eyes and look at him with a heavy-lidded gaze.

 “I-I don’t want to go without one more….” he seems to be at a loss for words, which for Lewis Nixon is truly unusual. But you think you can read his frustrated silence.

Your eyes search his dark ones, uncurling your fists from his roots to bring your thumbs to his forehead and smooth the concerned furrow in his brow.

 “Okay,” you whisper, coming down off of your toes to brush your nose against his. “Then do it.”

 As if your words were a racing gun’s shot, Lewis hungrily kisses you again- backing you up against the wall and clutching at you with carnal desperation.

You lose yourself in his fervor, scratching your nails down the back of his neck just shy of leaving a mark and moving to loosen his bowtie.

 He catches your hands and pins them beside your head, squeezing them in a silent request to keep them there. You nod into the kiss, gasping for breath when he tears his mouth from yours and drops to his knees before you.

Looking down your body at him, you pant lewdly as you watch his hands disappear beneath the skirt of your dress and hurriedly pull your underpants down around your ankles. 

 The only patience he shows is in his careful assistance of helping your step out of them, but then he is immediately returning to his pilgrimage to the warm place between your thighs- bunching the deep violet-blue fabric in one fist while his other hand encourages your thigh up and over his shoulder.

He kisses you down there just as thoroughly as he had your mouth, licking the hot petals greedily to part the way to your clit before attacking it noisily and skillfully. Your head makes a dull sound as it lolls back to hit the wall, your hips surging forward at the gentle and unintentional scrape of his teeth against the soft flesh.

In an apologetic motion, the hand holding your dress beside your waist rubbing its thumb soothingly across your side. 

You allow one of your hands to drop from beside your head to rest over his, your sigh of forgiveness getting lost in a breathy keen of pleasure.

 “Shit,” you sigh, bowing your head forward to watch him look up at you from between your legs. “Jesus Christ, Lewis!”

 Rather than take his mouth from you to reply, he elects to moan into your sex, the vibration striking somewhere deep inside of you that has your thighs quaking. Your eyes drift closed as he continues to suckle on you, the sound of him inhaling sharply through his nose making you feel dizzy with heady desire.

It had been almost a year since he’d last gone down on you- only because that was the last time you were afforded enough time for such foreplay. 

 And he’d only gotten better at it.

 With careful yet distracted motions, he maneuvers the hand covering his so you are now holding your skirt up and out of the way for him. You open your eyes at the same moment you feel his fingers curl inside of you, an airy mewl slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

 “I’m gonna cum,” you mumble stupidly down at him, finally bringing your other hand down to fist in his hair again as you begin to see the white-hot orgasm creeping into the sides of your vision. “Too soon….I’m sorry, it’s too soon—!”

 His intentional humming around your bud paired with the cruelly perfect crook of his fingers sends your careening over the precipice of pleasure.

Your body shakes and your hips buck uncontrollably as he refuses to relent his near fervent milking of your orgasm.

 You keep expecting him to stop, to pull away from you and start to seek his own release. 

But he just doesn’t stop.

 “What’re you doing?” you ask brokenly, keening into another moan as he slips one more finger inside of you. “Get up here and—ohhh!”

 “Again, “ you hear him grunt into you with a near frantic tone. “Give me one more….”

 You’re absolutely lost as he ushers you into another orgasm, mouth feeling dry from the open mouth panting you’ve had to resort to in order to remain lucid.

 “I need you,” you whimper pathetically, your eyes open and unseeing as you gasp for breath in a vain attempt at cooling the fire burning in your body. “Please, I need you inside me….please, Lewis!”

 It feels like he’s only just unsealed his lips from your sex when suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and his hand is cupped around the back of your head, kissing you languidly as your thrumming ears pick up on the soft sounds of fabric being untucked and trousers being shoved open and down.

 Before you can manage to find the coordination to bring your hands down to help him free his cock, you feel him bringing the same thigh that had been over his shoulder up to hook around his hip.

 With a familiarity that aches in both your heart and your core, you wrap your arm around his shoulders and nod into the kiss, just as you had that first time in your dorm room after the night of your Junior prom.

After one more soft peck, Lewis sheaths himself fully inside of you.

 Your face twists at the abrupt fullness that stretches your sex to the sweet-stinging point that you ache for more often than you liked to admit, eyes flashing open in euphoric alarm as the man you’d loved since you were fifteen fucked into you with a punishing pace.

 Apparently, he was just as desperate for you as you had been for him.

 It’s now he who is making desperate noises that have to be muffled, his face buried into the slope where your shoulder meets your neck. 

At some point, he’s managed to undo the button at the top of the back of your dress, nosing the fabric around your collarbones open so he can latch his lips to the flesh at the curve of your shoulder- worrying at the skin with tongue, teeth, and lips.

 If you were in a teasing mood, you’d accuse him of having an oral fixation. 

Lewis would make another comment about how much he regretted giving you the books by Sigmund Freud. 

You’d try to offer some witty retort, only to be cut off by him pinching at your clit and biting at your lip.

 It was so easy, everything with him just felt so good and comfortable and warmly familiar.

 As if he can hear your thoughts, he presses his temple to yours so his lips are at your ear.

 “It should be you,” he nearly whines. “I’ve only ever wanted you—”

 The sob that bursts past your lips is so bitter and childish that even Lewis seems to notice through his haze, pulling his head back in time to catch sight of the tears rolling down your cheeks.

 “I’m sorry,” he grunts as he kisses the tears off of your skin. “I love you and I’m sorry.”

 Just as your first moan had been, your first deep sob is captured by his mouth. Your lips are salty and you can feel from his shaking lips that he’s struggling to keep his own upset at bay.

 The hand that was holding your thigh wraps around it to press a thumb against your clit, and you can’t stop the stream of babbling that follows the movement.

 You can’t shut up about how much you love him and how angry you are with him and how badly you wished things were different.

 “I know,” he mumbles to each admonishment and devotion you utter, his voice becoming tight as you intentionally squeeze down on him with everything that you’d got. “I know, I know, Please love me anyway, I know.”

 It’s the sound of Lewis coming undone that sends you into your second orgasm, holding on for dear life as he brokenly thrusts into you a few more times before yanking himself away to spill himself onto the wall beside you- bracing his arm there as you blindly reach down to stroke him as well.

 You both stand there, breathing as if you’d both just sprinted across the fields behind his house.

 Using the wall as a support, you turn to face him and press your forehead to his sweaty temple, the hand of the arm against the wall moving to rest atop your head as he shudders and stills in your hand.

“Good,” you breathlessly praise him as you gently release his cock. “So fucking good….”

 As you bring your hand to your mouth to suck it clean, Lewis curses lowly as his eyes follow the movement, like you’ve hurt him somehow.

Before you can reach your hand down to get more, Nix grabs your wrist and holds it in the air.

 “Don’t you dare,” he whooshes out with an exhale, turning his head to kiss you deeply enough that you know he can taste himself. “I’m gonna fucking cum again if you do shit like that…”

 You give him a small smile, pecking a quicker kiss on his lips.

“Didn’t think you’d be open to letting me lick it from you directly.”

 His wicked smile is lazy, wrapping his arm around your waist as you make to push yourself away and twisting your bodies so he’s now the one leaning against the wall with you pressed against him.

 ‘Not yet,” he pleads into the crook of your neck. “Please, not just yet.”

 And, because you’re a terrible and weak person, you stay.

 When his fingers start to undo the buttons holding your dress together in the back, you shake your head.

 “One more,” he murmurs as your dress starts to fall loose around your shoulders. “Just once more….”

 Despite knowing how much you’re going to hate yourself for doing so, you nod and lower your arms so your dress pools around your feet.

 “Okay,” you whisper. “Just once more.” ~ ~ ~ (HELLO I LOVE YOU AND SORRY FOR ANOTHER SERIES WHEN I HAVE ONLY EVER ACTUALLY FINISHED ONE BUT THIS IS WHO I AM AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT THEN I AGREE WITH YOU, TBH)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

also let me know if you want to be added to le taglist bc i am a silly lily who will forget unless i’m constantly reminded

also also here’s the dress i used for reference bc what are outfits

[hogarthwrites]

the three of us [request]

pairing: young sam drake/reader (m/f), 28 year old sam drake/reader (m/f)

genre: angst, fluff, found family

warnings: teen pregnancy, child birth, menstruation/period mention

words: 3,337

summary:

An unexpected announcement, a future suddenly so unsure. Your relationship with Sam is tested as you’re at a crossroads between enjoying the last year of your adolescence or taking on responsibility.

note:

this was a request by @profoundapricotclodopera <3 i hope you like it!! 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had your period. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to miss some months and the school nurse had told you it was normal for an eighteen year old to skip every now and then. 

The bathroom tiles were cold as you sat on the floor, waiting for the test tube on the sink counter to give you your result. It wasn’t hard to convince your mom you weren’t feeling well so she could let you stay home. As soon as she left, you took out the pregnancy test you bought after school the day before.

Your heart beat loudly as the timer went off and you shakily stood up. There it was: the solution mixed with your urine had turned a sinister red. Positive.

No, no, no, no. You couldn’t be pregnant, you told yourself. You and Sam did everything right, you were careful, but still…

The test was still red. Maybe it was wrong? It’s not like you had any other symptoms like morning sickness or cravings. You chucked the water into the toilet and threw out the test. 

What would you tell Sam? How would he even react? You haven’t even been together for a year, and it frightened you to think that a kid will just scare him off. You didn’t want to think about what your mother would say.

Sam looked exhausted when he climbed through your window that night. He gave you a hug before flopping down on the bed.

“I waited for you at the school,” he mumbled. “Jeanie said you were sick.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t call. I really wasn’t feeling too great,” you sat on the bed next to him and stroked his hair. “I’m feeling better now, though. I promise.”

“I’m glad,” he took your hand in his, sleepily kissing your fingertips.

“Tired?”

Sam simply nodded. He worked two jobs, and sometimes he’d come by to see you just to fall asleep then leave early enough not to get caught by your mother.

“Sam…”

“What is it?” He mumbled into the pillow.

“I haven’t had my period yet.”

He sat up and raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s happened before, though.”

“Yeah, but not for six months.”

“What are you trying to say?” He sat up now, sleep gone from his mind.

“I don’t know, Sam!” You buried your face in your knees. 

“You don’t think…?” His voice quivered. “But I was so careful.”

“I took a test, Sam,” you looked up at him, feeling the hot tears stream down your cheeks.

“No.” Sam stood up, backing away from the bed. “No. It’s probably a broken test.”

You started sobbing, maybe a little too loud that Sam moved back to you to calm you down, also worried your mother might wake up.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he wiped your cheeks. “Say, why don’t we go to the clinic tomorrow? I’m sure they can tell you if you actually are…”

“Pregnant?” You sniffed.

Sam pursed his lips and nodded.

“I-I’m here, alright?” He pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead. You simply buried your face in his chest as he lay you both down on the bed until you fell asleep.

Sam didn’t know how to feel as he took out the money he’s been saving up from the jar he usually hid under his desk to help pay for your check up that day. He didn’t want to believe what you were saying last night, telling himself that the people at the clinic will say otherwise.

Don’t worry. It’s nothing. He was always so careful with you and you swore you were on the pill, so it was probably just a terrible mistake. Unless…

“Sam?” You stood at the doorway of his room. He was still staring at the bills in his hand, unable to speak. “Um, I’m ready to go.”

He held your hand as you walked up to the front desk, where an older woman sympathetically looked at the both of you. You knew what she was thinking. So young…

He held your hand as you sat at the waiting area, glancing at other couples who were much older. They looked happy, but you sat there with Sam wanting to disappear. Time seemed to crawl ever so slowly as you waited for your name to get called, the clock ticking loudly, or was that your heart beating loudly?

You placed a hand on your tummy, wondering if there was an actual baby inside. If there was, would you want to keep it? After all, it was yours and Sam’s.

Sam gave your hand a squeeze, breaking you out of your trance and you looked into his brown eyes, just as nervous as yours.

“They’re calling you,” his voice cracked as he spoke.

“Okay,” you nodded. 

You stood up, knees shaking, feeling Sam’s fingers slip from yours as you followed the nurse. He kept his eyes on you as you walked away.

Sam couldn’t take it. He couldn’t sit in a waiting lobby surrounded by happy couples while he felt like he was waiting for a death sentence. No, that was a little too much. Having a kid isn’t the end of the world, is it? Maybe it is when you’ve just turned nineteen.

He went out in the cold Boston air and took out his pack of Lucky Strike’s and smoked a cigarette. Then another. Then another. Why the hell was it taking so long?

A couple came out of the clinic, the woman was rubbing her swollen stomach and happily smiled at the man she was with. For a second, he let himself imagine being that happy with you and it felt nice until he remembered he could barely support himself.

The doctor asked you so many questions: Are you sexually active? When was your last period? When was the last time you had sex? Did you use protection? Have you taken a pregnancy test?

She asked you to get an ultrasound, much to your dismay. You were sure she was wrong. I’m a good kid, you told yourself. This doesn’t happen to good kids.

As soon as the cold gel hit your stomach, you felt like you blacked out. You felt the doctor move the contraption around your stomach, but you could barely hear what she was saying.  Something about fingers? Fingers?

You looked at the monitor, and almost as if your soul fell back into your body, you regained your senses. There it was: a whole baby inside your stomach. The doctor pointed out the fingers and the toes said you were six months pregnant.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, feeling overwhelmed.

“Do you wanna know the sex?” The doctor asked.

You thought to yourself, still unsure if you still wanted to keep the child, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to know what sex it was.

“Sure,” you nodded.

“It’s a girl.”

Sam took your hand as you stepped out of the clinic, still dazed. The bad feeling at the pit of his stomach grew as he watched you reach into your jacket pocket and pull out a photograph.

“Girl,” was simply what you said as you handed it to him.

He felt numb as he looked at the black and white image in his hand. There it was. The end of his life as he knew it. He thought about the three jobs he was working just to make ends meet, then about Nathan who was still in the orphanage. How the fuck was he going to take care of you, his brother, and now a baby?

“Are… Are you keeping it?” He gave you back the photo. “Um, I mean her.”

“I don’t know,” you pocketed it again and pushed past him. “I don’t even know if I’m going to pass my midterms, Sam, what more this?”

“I can’t be a dad yet!” He said out loud, starting after you.

“I can’t be a parent yet either, but here we are!”

You stopped dead in your tracks and sat on the ground, burying your face in your knees. You sniffled again and again as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Let’s talk about this,” you felt Sam’s hand on your back.

“Take me home,” you muttered.

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

You decided not to tell your mother until you had decided what you wanted. You went to school the next day as if nothing was wrong, but making sure you got a nurse’s note for phys ed. PMS cramps, you had said. A whole lie.

Sam was respectful when you told him you needed time, just at least for the weekend where you spent a lot of time in bed just thinking. Just a year ago you went to watch For Keeps with your mom, thinking that could never happen to me. After all, you knew what you were doing. What went wrong?

Pills aren't always effective. That's what the doctor said. It made you angry to think no one ever talked to you about the precautions. How were you supposed to know that?

You looked at the ultrasound photo whenever you were alone and let your mind wander, imagining raising the child with Sam. It would be hard, sure, but in your mind, as long as he was by your side, you could do anything. But then…

I can’t be a dad yet!

It was selfish of you to choose for him. After all, it was still his kid too. It hurt to imagine, but even if Sam didn’t stay, you still wanted to keep the child.

Sam smoked more and more. The first few puffs always felt so good, so right, but he felt disgusted whenever he was done with a cigarette. Life has always been rough for him, but this was the most stressful thing he's been through.

He couldn’t imagine being a dad. He’s never had a father figure in his life, not when his own father was never home and when he was, he always came home drunk and barely spoke to his wife and sons. No fucking way he was going to be like that asshole. However...

He thought about you. He didn’t understand what it was, but he’s never felt that way with anyone else before and he’s dated so many others before. It was weird, but the thought of having a kid that was half you, half him tickled him. Was that what you wanted too, he wondered.

“I’m keeping the baby,” you announced the next time you met at an empty playground after Sam’s last shift of the day.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” he dug his sneakers into the sand. 

“I know…” You sighed. “I know you don’t want to be a parent, but with or without you, I’m raising this child.”

Sam stared at you for a moment, catching you off-guard as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in to kiss you. You melted into his arms, realising you haven’t kissed him in a while, and you missed it.

He rested his forehead on yours, cupping your cheek. 

“I’m not going anywhere, alright?” He whispered.

“Sam,” you started to cry again, feeling like a tonne of bricks was lifted off your shoulder. You'd expected him to get mad, to run away, but instead he stayed.

He put his hands on your stomach. “It’s going to be hell, but I’m willing to go through it with you.”

Hell was an understatement. Your legs, hips, and your back hurt, and you were just so done with being pregnant. All you wanted was for the baby to pop out already, but the last few weeks just seemed to drag on. 

It wasn’t any easier for Sam. He worked longer just to make ends meet despite moving in with you and your mother, he still felt like he was responsible to help pay for your check ups. He only got to see his little brother once since you found out you were pregnant, and even though Nathan was excited to be an uncle, Sam felt a bit different.

Dad. He was going to be a dad and it scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to be like his old man, but he knew next to nothing about being a parent. He didn’t even feel comfortable with moving in with you until your stomach started swelling larger by the day.

“We haven’t picked out a name,” you mentioned one night as you sat in bed, playing with plastic dinosaurs on your tummy. Sam lay on his stomach, reading a book but he looked up in thought.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he mumbled. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Catherine?”

Sam made a face. “That’s a nun’s name.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

“I think I’ll leave the baby names to you.”

He took your hand and buried his face in the pillow, tired from the day’s work. He sleepily rubbed your hand with his thumb until he fell asleep. You watched him sleep, finally deciding on a name.

You’ve read enough books to know childbirth was painful, and at first, it felt like normal cramps. So far so good, right? You tried to tell yourself it was going to be fine, but as the hours passed and you were staring up at the fluorescent light in your hospital room, the pain just kept getting worse. 

Deep breaths, that’s what the nurses, the doctors, your mother said. You didn’t know how many breaths you’ve taken already, but it wasn’t helping at all. Contraction, rest, contraction, you were tired and all you wanted was to be done with the whole ordeal.

Sam wasn’t faring any better, pacing back and forth and constantly asking if you needed anything. He stayed by your side when you started pushing, trying to hold back terrified tears as he heard you cry and scream in pain, meanwhile holding onto his hand so hard that it hurt. 

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he softly said as you took deep breaths between pushing. 

“Okay?” You looked at him angrily. “I’m in so much fucking pain, Samuel. This isn’t okay.”

“Just a little more,” the doctor announced. “Push!”

You felt like you were gonna black out as you gave one last push, and the first thing you saw was Sam’s relieved face and he smiled softly.

“You did it,” he cupped your cheek, brushing away your tears. “She’s beautiful.”

“What?” You whispered, confused. You heard a baby crying and soon a warm bundle was placed in your arms.

She had Sam’s eyes and nose, and was at a perfect 7 lbs. When she cried, you cried. 

“What are you going to name her?” The nurse approached you.

Sam didn’t know how to feel as he stood by, watching you bond with your newborn. He wanted to hold her, but he was scared at the thought of accidentally hurting her. He was officially a parent.

“Sam… Samantha…” He heard you say and he looked up to meet your eyes. 

“I want to name her Samantha,” you smiled up at him.

Samantha was more like her father in more ways than one. Not only did she look so much like him, she was just as rambunctious and adventurous as Sam, climbing everything she could even at the young age of ten. 

“That’s normal,” Sam would say. “I taught Nathan to climb at that age. She’ll be fine.”

It took a lot of convincing, but you eventually gave in, knowing that she was happy running around looking for treasure that Sam left around the house before going to work. 

Sam was terrified when Samantha was born, always so scared about making ends meet. Your mother was more than welcoming to let you all stay with her, but he kept thinking about Nathan, still stuck at the orphanage. It was hard the first few years; a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of fighting, a lot of making up, but ten years down the line, he was just glad it worked out. 

His mind lingered to his mother, Cassandra. He’d lost her when he was around Samantha’s age and he always wondered what it would’ve been like if Cassandra had stayed and took him and Nathan on adventures with her. Seeing his own kid have the same spirit that she had made him wonder and it led him to Cassandra’s journal that he kept in a box in his closet for years.

Cassandra’s journal had so many mysteries that were left unsolved, so many that he’d wanted to chase after but were put on hold so he could raise Samantha with you. Maybe it was time…

“Panama?!” You looked at Sam in disbelief when he told you what was on his mind. “And in a prison too. Sam, that’s dangerous!”

“It’ll just be me and Nathan in the prison. And I swear if I can find this treasure, we’d be able to have our own home and everything, Samantha can go to a better school...” he tried to explain but you shook your head.

“And if anything happened to you?”

He took a few steps towards you and took your hands in his. “Look, I’ll come back. We made it this far, nothing bad’s going to happen.”

“What are we going to tell Samantha?” You sighed.

“The truth,” he shrugged.

“I don’t know, Sam,” you turned away. “This might be too much.”

“She’s so smart and adventurous. I know she’s going to understand.”

You sighed again. He made a few points. You needed the money and you didn’t want to lie to Samantha, especially if Sam left for a few months. You hoped and prayed to God it would be just a few months.

“Okay,” you turned back to see Sam looking relieved. “I trust you, Samuel.”

“We’re going to find long lost pirate treasure?” Samantha’s eyes lit up at Sam’s story.

“Sure, kid,” Sam chuckled as he ruffled her hair. “But I have to go find the first clue with Uncle Nathan first, alright?”

“Then you’ll take me?” She pouted.

“As long as you promise you’ll be good while I’m gone.”

“I pinky promise and I cross my heart and hope to die,” Samantha held up her pinky to cross with Sam’s. “Where do you think we’ll go, Sam?”

“Hmm,” he looked up in thought. “I don’t know, but probably somewhere far away.”

“The loot of a thousand worlds!” She dramatically said, flopping down on her pillow. “You’re the coolest.”

“No, you are,” Sam laughed as he tucked her in. He brushed back her curly brown locks, similar to his. He was going to miss her, but he knew he wouldn’t be at peace with himself if he didn’t start looking for Avery’s treasure soon. 

“Good night, Sam,” Samantha yawned.

“Good night, peanut,” Sam kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

You were grinning at him as he closed the door to her room, proud of the person he’s become. 

“What’s the verdict?” He asked as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you in. “Are you in on the treasure hunt?”

“Well,” you sighed. “As much as I want to, you know I could never say ‘no’ to you, Sam.”

“Do I know it,” he winked and leaned in to kiss you but you placed a finger on his lips.

“You better come back,” you gave him a stern look.

“Come on, baby, you know I will.”

“Pinky promise,” you held up your pinky and Sam laughed.

“Boy, do I have a lot of promises to keep.”

You held your pinky up higher. “Promise me, Sam.”

He had a smug smirk as he crossed his pinky with yours. “I pinky promise I’ll come home.”

“Or else.”

“Or else,” he chuckled. “Now, can I get a kiss?”

“I could never say no to that” you pulled him in for a kiss