#they just do little odd jobs for quick cash but their dream is to do jack shit /silly /pos | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Hit It Till It Breaks

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Mafia AU, NSFW, Drug Dealing, Dub-Con/Non-Con Sex, Dub-Con/Non-Con Drug Consumption, Drug Addiction, Manipulation, Humiliation, Degradation, Prostitution, Slight Pet Play

Prompt: Hard At Work

Summary: Growing up, you’d always loved fairy tales and happy endings. You’d always believed that despite how bad things might seem or get, there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. But you’re quickly realizing that this isn’t a fairy tale, that there is no happy ending, and that sometimes, you only go downhill, farther and farther from the light.

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt.

(Thank you as always @sawamooora for helping me keep this a coherent degenerate mess~)

It’s hard to believe that bright eyed girl holding her college diploma in the photo on your nightstand was you not that long ago. And your heart clenches when you remember how hopeful you had been. So excited to venture out and experience life. Ready to enter the job market. Ready to be an adult.

Doors opened and closed. But you hadn’t let it deter you at first. It just wasn’t meant to be. You can’t expect to get the first job you interview for!

But then more and more doors opened, only to be shut in your face.Your rose-tinted glasses began to crack as your funds quickly dwindled, as you lowered your standards, desperately mass applying to any small time company vaguely related to your major, only to be turned away at every step.

And now, here you are, barely able to make rent, barely able to even feed yourself with the little you have from odd part-time jobs you’ve managed to stitch together into some sort of financial life line.

Well, you HAD been barely able to make rent, but your hands tremble when you stare at the letter notifying you that your rent will begin to increase starting next month, mind speeding into a panicked haze as you unsuccessfully try to think of what to do, how you can possibly afford to live even in this dump anymore. And before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re scrambling, stumbling to your bathroom, throwing open your medicine cabinet as you rummage for the little pills that you know will help slow down your racing thoughts and provide much needed clarity.

You swear everything seems clearer as soon as the smooth texture hits your tongue and you can finally breathe, slumping down on the cold tiles of your floor, pill bottle still clutched in your hand as you allow yourself to relax, praying for any ideas to flow through you. And it hits you like a ton of bricks when your grip on the plastic container accidentally loosens and the bottle clangs against the floor.

A humorless chuckle slips past your lips as you stare at the rolling cylinder.

Drug dealing. Fucking drug dealing.

You can’t believe you’re even thinking of going down this route, but your mind flashes back to old roommates, old friends, old classmates who had nonchalantly made a pretty bundle on the side, carelessly tossing around and selling all types of prescription drugs on campus. And you vividly remember how simple they had made it seem, how they had all gotten away with it. Scrumptious meals, pricey alcohol, far beyond a college palette, and beautiful clothing were the only “consequences” for their crimes.

If they could do it, you could too. Or so you’d like to think.

But as naive and ignorant as you are about this line of work, even you know there’s a difference between selling to silly college students on campus, and selling it at a popular nightclub owned by an infamous crime syndicate.

Even as far removed as you are from the more seedy underbelly of the new city you live in, you know of the Seijoh Syndicate. Everyone in town does. It’s hard not to when they literally run and own the entire place.

Oikawa Tooru and the rest of the Seijoh Four run their domain with an iron fist. They’re practically nonexistent, merely a scary story to keep people in line, for those who abide by the laws and keep their noses out of trouble, but an all too real nightmare for those who choose to defy them. And you shudder, remembering the horror stories you had heard of exactly what happens to those who decide to try and start their own nefarious business and practices on Seijoh streets without Oikawa’s permission.

But surely they wouldn’t pay you any mind? Right? Surely a mere girl in her early twenties selling the leftover prescription medicine she has in her cabinets for one night won’t do any harm?

Maybe it’s stupid to go to such a prevalent and well known club, especially one that’s notoriously favored by the Seijoh Four. But you convince yourself that it’s the most crowded venue in the area with a target demographic who’s guaranteed to buy you out, even at the obscene prices you plan on charging. How would anyone even notice you? Where else could you go? What options do you even have?

So despite the nervous pit swelling in your stomach, you soldier on, plastering a cheery smile at the bouncer who easily waves you in without a second glance, slipping into the sweaty mass of bodies, going deeper and deeper until you’re surrounded - skin, bones, and muscles pressing against you on all sides, safe from any prying eyes.

Or so you believe.

You know who the Seijoh Four are. You even know their names. But never have you met them, never have you ever seen a picture of what they each look like. Not that it would help you if you did when you’re so laser focused on finding potential customers, not even bothering to look around to see if anyone’s watching you. So you carry on, unaware of the four sets of eyes looking at you in amusement from their roost high above the writhing crowds.

There’s nothing subtle about the way you sloppily nudge people, practically shoving your pills in stranger’s faces, almost wildly waving your merchandise around you in a desperate attempt to pull in buyers. Sweaty nervous hands fumble as you exchange little plastic baggies for wads of cash and Matsukawa raises a brow in disbelief while Hanamaki cackles when you drop your merch and payment, getting on all fours on the trashed dance floor to recollect your goods.

It might be the most amusing show they’ve had in a while, but Iwaizumi feels a pang of pity at the wild hopeless look in your eyes and he swiftly stands, brusquely telling the other three that he’s going to go down and tell you off with just a warning, only to be stopped when Oikawa smoothly stands to his feet, effectively blocking Iwaizumi’s path.

“Now, now Iwa-chan. Don’t be so hasty. Let me go talk to the cutie. I’ve been so bored recently and she looks like she’ll be fun! Plus you’ll make her cry with that scary face of yours.”

Suddenly the sight of you bumbling around isn’t quite as entertaining as the remaining three men watch the brunette prowl towards you, heavy realization of what’s to come sombering the mood.

You’re frantic, flitting about the throngs of flailing limbs and swaying bodies, frustration from not being able to get through your supplies fast enough weighing at your conscious. Sure, you’ve managed to accrue some cash, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough to even feed yourself for the coming week let alone make a dent in the daunting rent that looms over you. And you can feel hot tears prick at the corner of your eyes when you see that it’s almost closing time and you’re still stuck with more than half your inventory, no closer to figuring out how to survive. So when a hand firmly rests on your shoulder, you whip around, ready to take your anger out on the poor soul who’s managed to catch you at the worst time. But you freeze, vicious words stuck in your mouth when you see the handsome man beaming down at you, a thick wad of rolled up bills haphazardly dangling from his fingers.

“I heard you might have some stuff I’d be interested in.”

You wonder if this is all a dream, if the man in front of you is (ironically a devilishly) handsome angel swooping into save you when he casually asks you how much stuff you still have, how much you’d be willing to sell everything for, not even blinking an eye at your outrageous price tag. You’re so stunned by how quick he is to call it a done deal, not resisting even a bit as he wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you after him, saying some vague comments about wanting to go somewhere a little more private since it’s a bigger trade. All you can think about is how you’ll finally be able to eat something other than instant noodles and not have to worry about rent as you throw yourself back into interviewing, too lost in thoughts to be wary of how you’re being dragged farther and farther away from the rowdy crowd.

But the sound of a door slamming shut behind you jolts you back to reality and Oikawa fights back a laugh at how adorable you are, eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights as your head swivels side to side, dismay and panic making you tremble when you survey the private room you’re in, throat nervously gulping when you notice the three other occupants.

You’re so predictable and Oikawa just rolls his eyes fondly at how you swiftly turn around, trying to lunge towards the door in an attempt to escape, taking his time to leisurely make his way towards you, brown orbs taking in every inch of you as Matsukawa and Hanamaki hold your writhing body in place.

It’s so satisfying watching you crumble to pieces before his very eyes at just the mention of his name, despair and fear swirling beautifully on your face when he continues to introduce the rest of the Seijoh Four. It never gets old, that deliciously addicting feeling of power he feels when people tremble from just a few syllables and he relishes in your pleading apologies and your tears, patiently waiting for you to finish your little sob story, barely listening to the details as he focuses in on how gorgeous you are, broken and vulnerable.

And really, there’s no need for him to pay close attention to your blabbering anyway. It always comes down to one thing…

“So you need money, cutie? How about working for me?”

“Oye! Oikawa-”

“I’m just asking her some questions, Iwa-chan.”

There’s tense silence and your eyes nervously flicker back and forth between the two imposing figures staring each other down, green and brown eyes clashing in a silent argument. But as if they’ve somehow come to a conclusion, Iwaizumi tsks and looks away while Oikawa turns his attention back to you, a sickeningly cheerful grin on his face.

Blood curling fear lances through you and you’re almost grateful for the two pairs of strong arms holding you tight, their grip keeping you from falling to your knees as your legs threaten to give out under the pressure you feel as Oikawa thoughtfully looks at you.

You know the smart answer would be to adamantly say no and promptly figure out a way to leave this moment far behind you, even if it means forfeiting any money you had made tonight. But...a job is a job, right? And surely a job in the Seijoh Syndicate would be more lucrative than anything you’re doing now, right?

Oikawa hides a smile at the way he can see the cogs in your head turn, apprehension turning to curiosity as you stutter out questions about pay and what the job would entail. Desperation is a good look on anyone, but it suits you particularly well and just like that, hook, line, and sinker, he has a new cute live-in maid to replace the recently vacated role.

Working as Oikawa’s maid is more...normal than you would have expected. Not that you’re complaining and other than the embarrassing maid outfit he makes you wear, complete with frilly bow and garters, the chores are mundane. Bring breakfast to him and wake him. Clean his room and do his laundry when he’s away at meetings or jobs. Make sure guests have refreshments when they come over to his large estate, a mansion you now also call home.

If you’re honest, it’s much more relaxing than the multiple part-time jobs you had been juggling previously, and with free board, free food, and the substantial paycheck that regularly makes its way to your bank account, you can see your future brightening up again. When your duties are done for the day, you resume practicing for interviews and keeping up with the industry, feeling emboldened and empowered to finally resume working towards the career path you had always dreamed of.

But the more time you spend with Oikawa, the closer and more entangled in your life the brunette becomes. Alarm bells ring wildly in your head as you’re forced to join him for meals, forced to dress in elaborate gowns and jewelry while you’re waltzed around on his arm, forced to travel around the world with him, and attend to him like a glorified assistant. He’s too charming, too familiar, too bold, and you can’t help but feel like you’re racing towards some inevitable crash as he easily brushes aside any boundaries between the two of you.

You know so many women would kill to be in your shoes and you can understand why, not completely immune to his playful smile and the lilt of his voice yourself. But you know better, know exactly how dangerous it would be to get involved with a man like Oikawa Tooru.

It’s clear from the crimson stains on the clothes he leaves for you to either dispose of, or have cleaned. It’s clear from the wails and sobs of woman after woman he uses and tosses aside like garbage on an almost daily basis. It’s clear from the guns, knives, and weapons, most of which you don’t even know the name of, filling up all the walls, drawers, and cabinets.

So you do your best to keep your distance, building titanium walls around your heart. Always polite, too terrified of what would happen if you pissed him off, but cold enough to deter him from more amorously or intimately testing his boundaries.

And it seems to work as he turns his eyes towards other women, leaving you alone after throwing a few flirty comments and winks your way and ultimately falling in bed with some other poor damsel. But you nervously gulp when it’s just the two of you one night and just as you’re ready to make yourself scarce after turning down his bed and laying out his pajamas, his voice beckons you over and you anxiously bite your lower lip at the sight of pills of all shapes and sizes splayed out across his desk.

Other than your prescription medicine, you don’t have a lot of experience with drugs other than the few blunts here and there during your college years and you had always strictly kept to your recommended doses, never even entertaining the idea of taking more. So the sight in front of you is overwhelming and you hesitantly stare anywhere but at the table surface, anxiously waiting for Oikawa to explain why he called you over. But what you’re not expecting is the warm hand gently grasping your wrist and holding your arm out, small objects being carefully placed in your outstretched palm, and soft coaxing from Oikawa to “give them a try”.

Every part of you is screaming to throw the pills and make a run for it, begging you to come up with some excuse or just outright reject his offer. But it’s as if your body is frozen and he firmly pushes your hand to your mouth, grip tightening enough to make you wince when you hesitate to listen. The slight pain is enough to remind you that you’re not exactly in any position to negotiate and you force yourself to down the pills and gulp down the glass of water he holds to your lips.

The last thing you remember is the unsettling feeling of beginning a descent to an unknown place from which there is no return as Oikawa pulls you to his bed. And then euphoria floods through you as your body slots against his larger frame.

It feels good. Too good. Unnaturally good. But it’s intoxicating and you can’t help but let yourself drown in the hazy waves crashing down upon you, feeling lighter, freer, happier than you have for years. You vaguely register roaming hands, a hot wet mouth, a body on top of yours, something hard pressing against the apex of your thighs, filling you, consuming you in heady pleasure only amplified by the drugs coating your insides.

Bliss. Pleasure. Pure unadulterated joy. And then nothing.

When you come to, the weight of what had happened last night comes crashing down on you, making your foggy mind throb even more and you can feel bile rising inside of you as a toned arm around your waist tightens its hold on you. Oikawa grunts in annoyance when you claw your way out from his hold, scampering on shaky legs to his bathroom, heaving and expelling the contents of your stomach, trying futilely to cleanse yourself of your employer’s touch.

You flinch when you hear footsteps approach, shrinking into the corner of the tiled room, body crouched and curled into a tight ball as you try to save any shred of dignity you still have by hiding your naked body as much as you can from his prying eyes. Salty drops threaten to trail down your face when he hovers over you, sweetly cooing down at you “not to be like this”, “you liked it so much last night”, “come back to bed with me” only to stream down your face when his countenance swiftly changes, handsome face glowering down at you before brusquely turning away and snapping at you to “get on with your work then if you’re going to be an annoying bitch”.

It’s easy to convince yourself that you’re just being smart, just trying to survive as you obediently wash up and don your humiliating uniform, that it isn’t just you being a coward as you submissively go about your usual work day, still sitting with thighs pressed against Oikawa’s legs at meals, making no move to brush off the heavy arm he slings around your shoulders, only slightly flinching when his fingertips teasingly play with the hem of your skirt as he converses with the rest of the Seijoh Four.

But you can’t deny that all you are is a weak fool, desperate to live when you shakily accept the pills he pushes towards you again that night, silently crying yet not doing anything to prevent the inevitable as you swallow any self-respect or pride you had along with the smooth pellets under his watchful gaze, too scared of the glimmer of gunmetal you see on the inside of his jacket to even think of resisting.

And history repeats itself. Over and over again.

Oikawa smiles at how different you are from that skittish creature who fled from his every touch, smirking at how naive and innocent you still are as you try to hide how eager you are for your daily dose, unaware of how he’s slowly been increasing it every night, ignorant of how you unconsciously lean into his touches, pretty lips wrapping around his fingers as he hand feeds you.

Do you know what an animal you are in bed these days? Do you realize how little there is left to differentiate you from one of his filthy whores when you’re so doped up on whatever he gives you, moaning like a pornstar and leaving vicious red claw marks on his skin as you bounce on his cock?

And he knows it’s time to move onto the next phase of your conditioning when there’s not even a speck of shame in your clear eyes when the sunlight begins to filter through the window, knowingly smiling in satisfaction when instead of slinking off to wallow in your regret you shimmy down between his legs and begin to nuzzle and mouth his morning wood, face full of nothing but wanton desire as you take his cock in your mouth.

He doesn’t give you anything that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. He doesn’t so much as even look at you outside of your usual eye contact, not a single flirtatious word slipping past his lips.

You should be grateful. This is what you wanted, right? To keep things strictly professional between the two of you. To not be coerced into the artificial pleasure you’ve been swallowing on a daily basis for the last month now. To not feel like just another warm body for Oikawa to taint.

Your interview notes and open tab of job listings are right there, begging for your attention, practically screaming at you to pursue the life you’ve always dreamed of.

Yet here you are, not even a week later, on your knees in between Oikawa’s legs as he leisurely reclines in his chair, peppering his inner thighs with kisses and rubbing your face against the growing bulge in his trousers, begging and pleading for another dose, feeling utterly empty and cold inside, unable to sleep, unable to focus, unable to function without the nights of hazy ecstasy.

Your heart drops at the long disappointed sigh the brunette releases.

“Drugs are expensive, cutie. I was just being nice and letting you try some new batches we’ve been producing, but now that they’re on the market, I can’t just keep on giving them to you for free.”

He rolls his eyes when you adamantly tell him you’ll pay whatever the price is, a condescending smirk splitting his face from how quick you are to shut up, soul crushed when he reveals the extravagant cost, a price he knows you can’t afford with the salary he’s providing you with.

But he artfully softens his smile as he begins to unbuckle his pants, sliding the fabric down and letting his throbbing cock spring into view, chuckling when it lightly slaps your face as it’s released from its confines, wondering if you’re drooling from the sight of his erection or the pills he’s playfully placing along the length of it.

“I know you don’t have that money, cutie. But I’d be willing to accept other forms of payments.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re rushing to take him in his mouth and he loudly laughs at how obscene you look, slobbering all over his length, fervently bobbing your head up and down, hastily trying to deep throat him to reach the pill strategically placed right at the base of his shaft, lips puckering as you inhale the drugs, swallowing around him in a way that has him groaning as you stuff your face full of chemicals and pre-cum. And it doesn’t take much longer for him to wash your mouth and throat with warm rivulets of sticky white fluids as he watches the goods take effect, his balls tightening and cock straining with arousal as you reach between your legs, fingers playing with your tight dripping hole while your lewd moans vibrate against him.

It’s pathetically endearing how you can’t keep off of him after that, insisting on sitting on his lap during meals, your cute ass grinding against his clothed cock, always dropping to your knees in between chores, warming his cock in your greedy mouth, always asking him how many pills you’ve earned so far. You really are just his little slutty drug addict now, aren’t you?

But he needs you to be more than that, needs you to learn that you belong to anyone who’s willing to give you the high you crave, needs you to realize that you’re just a free use drug addicted whore for anyone and everyone to use.

So despite how tempting it is to just plunge balls deep inside your tight little pussy, he shoves you off of him one night as you try to grind against his body, feigning exhaustion and boredom of your body, watching in amusement at the panicked crazed look that flashes across your face at his words. Well aren’t you a beautiful sight, throwing yourself at his feet and groveling, saying you’ll do anything for another dose.

Anything, huh?

In your defense, even through the daze of your withdrawal, there’s still a wary expression on your face when Matsukawa and Hanamaki enter the room. Maybe you aren’t as broken as Oikawa had thought. But when you see the little baggies filled with the tablets you’ve become far too familiar with twirling between the duo’s fingers, you practically lunge at them and Oikawa finally allows himself the pleasure of reaching into his pants and stroking himself to the debauched sight playing out in front of him.

Maybe he needs to fuck you in front of a mirror more often if this is what you look like from an outside perspective. It’s like you were made to be used, to be just a warm toy for men to use and Oikawa can’t help but think you look best like this, cocks penetrating both your front and back holes, your body squeezed between two bodies. And he fondly smiles at how you have Hanamaki’s face between the palms of your hands, your lips locked in a sloppy kiss as your tongue ravages the strawberry blonde’s mouth, searching for the pills the man had playfully placed on the tip of his tongue in front of your very eyes before winking at you and telling you to come and get them yourself if you wanted them so badly.

They keep your daily training a surprise, mixing up who gets to wreck your body each day, how many cocks and rounds of cum you’ll need to pay with, what pills and dosage you get. Always keeping you lost and confused, making sure your mind is just a muddled mess that can only think of reaching your next high by any means necessary.

Hell, even Iwaizumi takes part when he realizes that you’re beyond the point of no return, that Oikawa wasn’t joking when he said that there is no other choice for you anymore. This is your life now. This is who you are now. This is your “happily ever after”. He knows all that, can see all that in the way your dazed eyes only come to life at the sight of your addiction, your otherwise listless body perking up at the sound of the tiny objects rattling in their container. And yet a small sliver of guilt has him growling at you to get on all fours, ensuring your face isn’t visible, turning you into just another body for him to mindlessly use as he pleases.

It’s an uncomfortable position, borderline painful as your knees rock back and forth on the hard floor with every brutal thrust of Iwaizumi’s hips. But you don’t care, the aching pain in your legs just dull background noise as you fixate on the tablets scattered on the floor in front of your face, dropping your entire upper body low to the ground, only your hips raised high as your mouth snaps forward. You’re so close and you mewl as your lips make contact with the first pill, uncaring of the pitiful sight you make licking and lapping the floor, whimpering when a hand firmly grabs you by the hair and roughly pulls your face away from your feast.

“Maybe we should get you a dog bowl, cutie. It’s humiliating even for you to be eating from the dirty floor like that. Hold her hair for me, Iwa-chan.”

You crane your neck back and forth, jaw jutting forward as you frantically fight against the tight grip holding you back, mouth drooling and tongue extending like a ravenous animal. But it’s no use and you whine, too focused on your unfinished “meal” to notice how Oikawa is still standing in front of you, cock pulled out from his pants, his hands rapidly fisting the shaft. And only when thick white spurts glaze the remaining pills do you whip your attention towards him, staring with hopeful wide eyes when he crouches in front of you and grabs your face.

“When Iwa-chan lets go of your hair, you’ll get to have the rest of your treats, but you also have to eat the special seasoning I’ve generously given you, okay? If I see even a speck of it left, you’re not getting anything tomorrow, understand?”

Oikawa laughs at how vigorously you nod your head and with a nod in Iwaizumi’s direction, you’re released and the two men watch on as you lick the floor until it’s sparkling clean, slumping your face in the mess of your own drying saliva as you reach euphoria once more. You wail as Iwaizumi shoves you off a cliff and into floating clouds of bliss with one last thrust, the drugs in your system weaving a comforting cocoon around you that you melt into, unable to escape its soothing pull, giggling in content as his seed fills you to the brim.

There’s silence as Iwaizumi pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before sitting besides Oikawa, joining him as he continues observing your used and drugged up body sprawled across the floor, a dopey smile on your face as cum begins to leak out of your spent pussy.

Minutes pass and Iwaizumi sighs, knowing what Oikawa is waiting for him to ask despite how insistent he has been over the years about not wanting to be involved in this particular side of the business...

“Are you going to have her start working at the brothel soon? She seems just about ready.”

“Not yet. I want to give her a few test runs first before I have her work full-time at that establishment. She’s only been with the four of us, so I’m curious to see how she is with a complete stranger. It’s perfect timing too since Sawamura is coming over for a meeting soon and I know he won’t damage the goods if I gift her to him for a night or two. Plus, she hasn’t completely lost her mind yet so we can get some more use out of her before we toss her aside...”

The brunette rambles on, tone light and airy as if he’s just discussing the weather or a TV show he watched, as if he’s not mere feet away from a woman he’s utterly destroyed and rebuilt into just another brainless profit-making doll.

And Iwaizumi tunes him out, already having heard almost this exact speech countless times by now, unable to even keep track of how many others like you there have been in the past, unwilling to think about how many more there will be in the future. But he snorts at Oikawa’s typical closing line.

“I guess it’s almost time to find a new cute maid.”

#haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #tw: yandere #tw: drugging #tw: drugs #tw: addiction #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon

848 notes · View notes

nctsworld · 4 years ago

Text

pedal to the metal

✩ jaemin x reader | mall au | arcade attendant!jaemin | fluff | 3.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ when the claw machine eats your money, jaemin, the cute arcade attendant, offers to play a game with you in lieu of a refund. little does he expect you to beat him. | based off of @mistymark’s nct mall employees post WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, bit of angst, jaemin is competitive, kissing in the epilogue RATING ⇾ teen+

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

Leaning over the glass counter filled with endless prizes, Jaemin holds out two large plushies, one in each of his hands.

“Pikachu or Spongebob?” He swivels his head to them individually before beaming down at the little girl in front of him.

With the alternating supervision of her parents, she’s been one of the recent regulars at the arcade and finally saved up enough tickets fo a decent prize, deciding to cash them in today. Her face lights up and targets in on one particular plushie, already inching towards it with open hands.

“Pikachu, Pikachu!” she squeals.

The worker’s smile deepens, “Great choice. Couldn’t have picked better myself.”

He laughs airily as she squeezes Pikachu like it’s the last thing she’ll ever love, bouncing up and down with joy. Today, the girl’s mom is with her and she holds her ecstatic daughter close to her leg, rubbing her arm warmly.

“So I guess I’ll see you two next week?” Jaemin asks.

“If she gets over Pikachu as fast as she did with Olaf, then probably yes,” the mom replies with a defeated head shake. “Thanks again, Jaemin. Say bye to the nice boy.”

“Bye, Jaemin!”

The mother and daughter wave good-bye with wide smiles, as did Jaemin. Giving prizes out and seeing the delightful reactions on the recipient’s face was one of the best parts of his job.

Oh, and so was being able to play all the arcade games for free.

For Jaemin, being the arcade attendant at the local mall was a dream come true. He was once in the same place as the little girl—always coming to the same arcade every day after school. Although he loved winning prizes (who doesn’t?), he also prided himself in being the best at every game, knowing all the secrets and strategies like the back of his hand. Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Beatmania, Time Crisis, Super Bike, Pac-Man… You name it, and Jaemin can wipe the floor with anybody. It’s why none of his friends liked to play the games with him, but they still had fun nonetheless.

“That girl is insane!” Chenle exclaims with a point of his thumb, strolling up to the counter. He’s one of Jaemin’s many friends and an everyday mall-goer. Jisung comes up next to him, also a friend and works at the mall’s McDonald’s. The mall was really a second home to them all.

Jisung bobs his head in disbelief. Then, he turns to face their worker friend.

“You’ve gotta admit she’s really good, right?”

The lanky figure cocks an eyebrow. “What are you guys talking about? I was busy giving out a prize to someone.”

The shortest individual of the three widens his eyes. “There was a girl who was just playing Super Bike. She kept kicking everyone’s ass, even us.”

Jisung nods fervently, “I was telling Chenle that she’s probably as good as you, maybe even better.”

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “No one can beat me at Super Bike, you both know that.”

“You haven’t seen her play, though…” Chenle sighs dreamily, perching his chin into his palms, as he drifts off into space and replays the gameplay in his mind.

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Jisung shrugs. He absentmindedly fiddles with the bundle of tickets left by the little girl. “It’s about time someone beat you at one of the games.”

Suddenly, Jaemin snatches the tickets from his hands, startling the younger boy. Said younger boy glances up to meet a pair of slitted, burning eyes. In an instant, Jaemin’s eyes melt and a cocky expression flashes by.

“Like I always say, I never lose.”

He begins to count the tickets, but the thought of someone being better than him makes him lose track.

After he finishes counting the tickets, he casually checks-up on the motorcycle racing simulator to see what all the fuss was about. To his disappointment, he is met with a young boy, playing by himself.

Jaemin makes a mental note to keep an eye and ear out for this mystery Super Bike girl.

A few days pass. You’re at the mall by yourself to kill some time and to procrastinate on studying. You spent a while at the bookstore already, so you decide to do something a little more fun.

At the bustling arcade, you’re quickly drawn towards the claw machine with the mountain of plushies. You know the odds of winning are low, but one round couldn’t hurt. Placing your money into the claw machine, you begin to fiddle with the joystick. However, nothing’s moving.

Your face crinkles in confusion, so you add money again, thinking that maybe it was a one-time fluke. Nope, definitely not a fluke because the claw still doesn’t work. You’re now two dollars down and you didn’t even get the chance to play.

Walking around the arcade, you try to find a worker, but to no avail. You stand in front of the glass counter, waiting for an attendant. While waiting, you’re peering at all the variety of prizes to be won and wish you were skilled and patient enough to obtain such things. It’s no wonder why the claw machine drew you in, at least that game filled you with a false sense of a fast and easy win.

After finishing a supervising round in the arcade, Jaemin notices a girl at the front counter. Actually, scratch that, a stunning girl—one that he hasn’t seen in the arcade before. He’d definitely remember you if you had. The ends of his mouth stretch and he strides towards you with a wind of confidence.

“Hi, do you need help with something?”

Jolting slightly, you’re taken aback by both the handsome figure and the question. You saw him earlier at one of the games, but it never crossed your mind that such a young, attractive guy like that would be the resident arcade attendant. You subconsciously do a double take, eyeing him up and down, causing Jaemin’s grin to become more cheeky.

“Hi, yeah,” You point to where you were previously. “I was trying the claw machine and it took my money, but it didn’t let me play any rounds.”

“Oh?” He scrunches his face and heads toward the machine. You follow behind. “We just fixed it a few weeks ago, that’s weird.”

At the claw machine, Jaemin feels around the machine, checking on the knobs and buttons, and even places a coin into it to test out your claim. He tinkers with the joystick, and realizes you’re right; the machine’s only taking money without allowing any plays.

So he kicks it. Hard.

You break out into a chortle. “Does that actually help?”

“Always works like a charm.”

Another kick, and more chortling.

Jaemin shifts his head towards you and places a hand on his chest. His eyes waver, searching around him as if someone would be listening, and lowers his voice in a hush.

“I’m a secret machine whisperer, you gotta trust me,” he says with a small wink, and you trust him by standing back and resuming to observe him with a fluttering heart.

The attendant tries the machine with money once more, but the kicking evidently didn’t help. This only leads Jaemin to increase the intervals of his kicking. Soon, kicking evolves into desperately shaking the contraption.

Bemused and shaking your head, you comment, “I don’t think your whispering is working very well.”

He attempts one last time, but to nobody’s surprise, it fails. He tapes an out of order sign onto the glass. With hands on his hips, he exhales a lengthy sigh.

“Sorry for your lost money. I can give you a refund.”

“Aw, no. It’s okay, it was only a couple of bucks. I was more so looking forward to playing the game, really.”

A lightbulb goes off in Jaemin’s head.

“Did you wanna play a game with me to make up for it instead?”

Although he enunciates the question slowly, cautious of your reply and potential rejection, there’s a contrasting smug expression on his face. Your teeth tug at your bottom lip, about to answer, but then you pout.

“Aren’t you working right now though?”

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s kind of slow at the moment and I can argue that I’m maintaining the game.”

“Like what you were just doing with the claw machine?”

“Exactly.”

Both of you laugh in unison, gazes converging together. If only the strong sparks flying between you two could somehow fix the claw machine... but then again, you would’ve never had a reason to speak to the beautiful boy in the first place.

“Sure, what game did you have in mind?”

Tapping a finger on his chin, Jaemin runs the possibilities in his head. What’s a game that he can easily impress you with his skills, but is also equally fun for you to play?

“Super Bike?” he offers.

You nod with a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.”

Thankfully, as the two of you arrive at the game, no one’s currently playing. You jump onto the left motorcycle, while Jaemin gets onto the right. He enjoys how you cutely sway back and forth, accustoming yourself to the fake motorbike. He gives you a quick breakdown of the controls, and tells you to focus only on the gas and brake since he’ll choose automatic transmission to make things easier for you. You hum with puffed cheeks, ready to play.

Following Jaemin’s choices of the easiest map level and transmission settings, the race immediately starts.

Jaemin can play Super Bike in his sleep, so he starts off the first half of the lap with his eyes on his screen, then for the second half, he looks over at you for a few moments. You’re glued to your screen. The glint in your eyes sparkles with pure amusement and an edge of competitiveness. He breathes in the enticing sight, especially as you bite your lip with heightened focus.

But then, flashes of red flare upon your face. Jaemin’s heart knocks nervously at his chest because the flashes are coming from the sign above your screen with the words ”RACE LEADER”. He’s dragged straight into the match again, not wanting to lose.

“Have you played this before?” he shouts over the background noises and music.

“Only a few times,” you shrug lightly. Your eyebrows raise as Jaemin catches up, trailing almost nose to nose with the end of your motorcycle, yet the finish line is approaching fast. Narrowing your eyes, you accelerate and curve around the last bit of the map without struggle. Before you know it, you reach the finish line right before Jaemin does.

As the first place win radiates from your screen, you pump your arms in the air and remove yourself from the bike.

On the other hand, Jaemin’s gaze is stuck on the screen, jaw hanging. The big two taunts him with every flicker.

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for the game—”

You’re about to ask for his name, but his odd reaction catches you off-guard. You take a step closer to him until someone cries out:

“That’s Super Bike girl!”

Swinging your head towards the origin of the cry, you see a boy jog over with a wave of his index finger. Chenle’s voice breaks the arcade attendant out of his frozen state. Jaemin whips his head towards you, still on the motorbike.

“You’re Super Bike girl?!” he echoes, eyebrows knitted.

“I already have a nickname around here?” you giggle. “I only played this game once a few days ago.”

Chenle asks him, “Did Biker Girl beat you?”

Jaemin avoids the inquiry, darting his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. The friend passes the question onto you with owl eyes, and you shyly nod.

“Oh, my God, and I missed it?!” He huffs in disappointment, but then recollects himself as he takes a few steps toward you.

“Are you free after seven to come back and play again? Our friends need to witness this. This is history in the making.”

Immediately, Jaemin shoots daggers into Chenle. The daggers definitely have profanities written all over. You catch a glimpse of Jaemin and can practically read every word.

“Uhm,” you lower your voice, despite the fact Jaemin can still hear you. “Your friend looks pretty pissed. I feel kinda bad to just come back to beat him in front of people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about feeling bad,” the attendant’s friend waves his hand carelessly. “He always makes us feel bad when he constantly brags about how he’s the best at every game in here.”

“Is that so?” You glance at the boy on the bike with a new perspective. You could definitely see this guy as cocky, but maybe he’s still sweet underneath the exterior. You also wouldn’t mind seeing him once more before you head home, and now you had a reason.

“Well, count me in. I’ll be back at seven on the dot.”

With a flutter of your fingers, you say your temporary good-byes to the pair of boys and head out of the arcade. Jaemin finally props himself off the motorbike, getting back to work.

Passing by Chenle, he half-jokingly seethes, “I hate you,” into his ear.

Without a care in the world, Chenle frantically messages their group chat to come by the mall later to witness the match of a lifetime.

“Hey, did I miss it?” Mark pants as he puts an arm around Jeno from behind.

“No, you got here right on time. Super Bike girl should be coming any time soon.”

On the backend of the motorbike, Jaemin sits at the edge of it, studying the modest crowd around the racing simulator. Along with Jisung and Chenle, several of Jaemin’s other close friends are here to cheer for his downfall. For those who aren’t there, his friends are equipped with their phones in hand, ready to record the monumental event.

Weaving through the crowd with mumbles of “Excuse me’s,” you reach your destination and appear in front of the arcade worker.

The rising buzz of the crowd fades from your ears and into the background within his presence. You melt at him looking so coolly, bending over the motorbike with folded arms, and give him a warm smile.

“Just because you’ve got a sweet smile, it doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”

You playfully drop your mouth as the people around “Ooooh” in harmony. Your tongue is pressed against your lower teeth as Jaemin spins himself to the front of the bike. You get onto your previous seat from hours ago, grasping onto the fake vehicle as if you owned it.

You watch Jaemin enter the settings in. He’s not underestimating you this time and he executes his promise of not going easy on you—the hardest map and manual transmission are chosen, signaling you to really bring your A-game for this round.

At first, the match is tight. You’re practically side by side on the map, even having the occasional opportunity to push him off track and vice-versa. Changing up techniques, as the second lap rings in, you switch transmission gears and ease on the brake for a brief moment, hugging the curve of the map.

With that move, the red light flashes above him. Jaemin believes, no, he knows he’s going to win. Sweet victory is on the tip of his tongue, he can taste it. Ten seconds are left on the clock, ten seconds left until he beats you and continues to reign king of the game.

But, you suddenly speed past him and the game’s over before he can properly process it.

The screams surrounding you engulf the entirety of the arcade.

Jaemin’s mouth is on the floor as he realizes he lost.

No, his mouth is six feet under because you’re currently entering a nickname into the all-time best rankings. You beat Jaemin’s time on the map, seizing the new first place rank for the game.

Everyone circles you in congratulations, but your eyes are honed in on one individual in the crowd. He hops off the bike, brushes past the crowd, and escapes to the counter, continuing his shift like nothing happened. Hastily, you go after him and find him crouching down behind the glass. He’s unpacking boxes filled with what you assume are prizes.

On your forearms, you lean over the glass counter. “Hey, when does your shift end?”

Your assumption is answered as you see him restock some of the plushies in the transparent container underneath you.

“Why do you want to know? So you can beat me again at another game?” he grumbles, the bitterness blatant in his voice. Nevertheless, you persist.

“‘Cause Super Bike girl wants to get to know the cute Arcade Boy she met today over dinner.”

He pauses and his eyebrows perk up at the words cute and dinner in the same sentence. His ego is still sore, but he’ll bite.

“Is it a date?” he presses further with a disinterested tone, continuing to move the items.

You drag your bottom lip up, drumming your fingers slowly against the glass.

“Only if you want it to be.”

Your words bandage his sore ego quickly, but he wants to bathe in his pity a little while longer. He twists his mouth, fighting against the urge to show you his teeth.

The boy stands up and leans over the counter too. He’s greeted by your strong aura, yet it doesn’t completely reach your eyes; your gaze is soft and gentle. “I get off at nine, so it’s pretty late.”

“That’s okay. I can play games until then—”

You peel yourself off from the glass and properly introduce yourself, holding your hand out. He glances at it for a second, then at your tender look. He gives in and can't help himself from grinning. The arcade attendant reaches for your hand and reciprocates the shake.

“I’m Jaemin.”

That day, Jaemin learned that losing at the arcade games wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

EPILOGUE

Clutching onto Jaemin’s waist underneath his leather jacket with your chin resting on his shoulder, you’re swaying side by side with him on the racing game that brought you two together. It’s his day off today, and both of you thought it’d be cute to spend some time at the arcade before the movie showing later that evening.

“Ease on the gas!” you dictate. He rolls his eyes at your backseat driving.

“No, it’s too early!” he protests and goes against your advice, accelerating further. When that makes him go off-road a bit, you sigh smugly while he groans meekly.

“See, and this is why I’m better at Super Bike than you,” you tease before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Tingles rise to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I’ve played this game a lot longer than you.” It’s the second lap and he’s inching towards the finish line.

“Yeah, but who holds the record?”

After he speeds through it, the list of the best times roll onto the screen. Your nickname still stands proudly at number one from the day you asked him out on a date.

Jaemin smiles at the not-so far memory. He then twists and extends his neck over his shoulder, sharing a sweet kiss with you. Your grip around his waist tightens, your fingers sinking into his skin. His palm raises and cups your face, deepening the kiss.

Breaking away for a moment, he says, “Yeah, well, I’m the better kisser.”

You sweep your nose against his. “That’s up for debate…”

Your lips meet once more lovingly.

“Can you guys stop making out in the arcade again?” Jisung groans. “Kids are here, you know. Like me.”

Chenle cuts in, “I thought you were glad someone beat Jaemin for once.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect the same person to have her tongue constantly down his throat!”

Still lip-locked, Jaemin and you smile into the next kisses from their remarks while Jisung and Chenle run off to play another game, far away from the new couple.

#jaemin #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #flash tw

975 notes · View notes

neonacity · 3 years ago

Text

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 4: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones.

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal. There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here.

TW: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

CHAPTER 1 / CHAPTER 2 / CHAPTER 3 /

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Hi. Can I have one iced americano, no sugar, with an espresso shot, please?"

My hands froze and hovered momentarily on the drink I was preparing as I heard a male voice say that from the counter. I didn't turn around to check who it was, but my boss—who is currently helping me man the cafe today—was quick enough to dash the pit-pattering of my chest. He hooked the order slip on the board in front of me and my eyes immediately raised to read the name there.

"One to-go, americano for Youngho."

I sighed internally. Whether it be from relief or disappointment though, I don't really know. A part of me wanted to be in denial of my emotions, but I realized you can only go so far if the person you are trying to fool is just yourself.

It's been almost three months since that night that I last saw Jaemin. I wish I didn't know the exact number of days that passed since then, but I do and I couldn't help it. Every little detail of what happened was still marked fresh in my mind, especially the feeling of hollowness that exploded in my chest when I woke up that morning to see them gone.

If not for the chip on the edge of the table left by Jeno as he tried to hold a half delirious Haechan down that night, I could have easily brushed off everything as a fleeting dream. But it isn't. It is a nightmare, at least in my part.

He really meant it when he said he would leave me alone.

There were no calls, no messages, no visits, nothing. It was like he didn't exist at all, the past year spent with him nothing but an imagined illusion.

We were back to being strangers again, exactly like how he wants to. If you think about it, it's selfless of him to do this, but I hate it. I hate it with everything I have.

Why? Because now I have to live through the feeling that I'm the only one suffering from all of that has happened. I couldn't watch the news anymore without thinking about him. For heaven's sake, I couldn't even get an iced coffee order without freezing like a statue because I remember him. I hate it. I hate every single moment without him, as much as I didn't want to admit it.

I placed the plastic cover over the finished drink with a soft sigh before turning to hand it over to the customer. At least I can still manage to put out my well-practiced, service smile.

"Iced Americano for Youngho," I called out into the receiving area as I slipped a straw on the cup sleeve. A tall man looked up and walked over to me to receive it.

"Thank you for coming to Brick and Beans. I hope you visit us again soon," I said in autopilot, my words so well-rehearsed that I didn't even have to think through while delivering them. The customer smiled at me before giving me a wink.

"I sure will. Thanks for this, sweet cheeks." He turned and left the shop, leaving me slightly confused.

My attention was then called by my boss who had just finished wiping down the counter. The man—who really has been more of a father figure than an employer for me—gave me a warm smile and motioned me over.

"Can we talk? I have something to tell you."

I briefly glanced at the clock. It isn't my break time yet, but the store is empty so I guess it will be fine. I shrugged.

"Sure."

"Grab a cake for you and me while you're at it," he nodded towards the pastry fridge before walking towards the nearest empty table. I wordlessly took two slices of basque cheesecake, his favorite, before following him. The man has a mean sweet tooth and we both know it.

He was silent for a little bit as he took the fork to take a bite of his treat. I waited patiently for him to speak, hands politely folded over my lap.

"I'm going to sell the cafe."

I blinked and stared. I wasn't expecting that at all.

"You're… what?"

He sighed and leaned back against his seat. He looked a little sad over what he just said but he managed to offer me a small smile.

"I'm getting older. You know how much I love this place because I started it with my late wife, but I really can't continue to manage it anymore. My children, unfortunately, do not have any plans of continuing the business. And they've been asking me to retire, too."

I nodded slowly, taking the news bit by bit.

"Do you already have a buyer, ahjussi?"

"I do. It is kind of strange, actually. Someone offered to buy off the franchise at such a perfect time. And for a very good price, too."

That made me smile. I've had this job ever since I started college so it makes me a little sad that it's going to have a new owner, but I really am happy for him. I just hope whoever buys it off takes care of it really well. The old man loves this place to bits.

I felt him take a hold of my hands from across the table. I looked up and was met with a fatherly smile.

"Don't worry. You won't lose your job. The new owners said that they aren't planning to change anything here and I told them that they had to take you with them."

That made me almost want to burst into tears. I squeezed his hand back in return.

"Ahjussi... You didn't have to do that. I can always look for another job." Who am I kidding? I know it will be hard for me to land another sideline especially with all the financial hiccups I am already dealing with so this is really sending me over to the edge of tears.

"Nonsense. You are part of this business. You've done so much for this place so you deserve this. Don't worry, they said yes to my condition."

I gave his hands another squeeze and he answered back with a fatherly pat.

"Thank you…"

"You're welcome. Just promise me, when you become a doctor, you'll give me free checkups, okay?"

"No, I won't. Because you will always be healthy and won't need my help at all," I said with a wrinkle of my nose.

That sent the two of us laughing.

"When will the new owners take over?"

"By the end of the month," my eyes rounded with surprise and he nodded in understanding. "I know, I know. It really happened too fast. I can't turn down the offer though. To be honest it was way beyond what the business is worth."

I sighed. "Well… as long as you are sure about them."

"I am. For now, I'll be here for a bit with you. I just need to enjoy my last days here. So just don't mind your old man, okay?"

I grinned.

"Only if you promise to give me a free cake every day you are here."

He reached out to ruffle my hair.

"Deal."

----

It was a slow day at the cafe so my boss decided to turn down the jazz music that usually floats from the speakers in lieu of the television volume. It was an odd hour in the afternoon and I found myself smiling as I watched him flip the channels over to look for a good show to watch while I dried some mugs. Just then, the overhead bell on the door dinged, welcoming with it a pair of uni-looking kids.

My boss looked over, but I was quick to jump to action instead. "I'll take care of it," I mouthed to him, to which he gave me a smile before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

"Hi. Welcome to Brick and Beans. What can I offer you today?"

"We'll have one dirty chai latte and one irish coffee over ice. Make it to go. "

The couple offered their names and I nodded as I punched their orders on my POS. "Would you like some pastries to go with that?"

"No, that's all."

"Got it, you can wait over there to the side. I'll have your drinks with you shortly," I said with a smile. The girl pulled the boy over into the receiving area to continue their conversation.

"So what I'm saying is, we gotta go. Tonight is going to be epic. The bets will be high for sure. We can get some mean cash if we put it in the right car."

The other gave a soft snort and started drumming his fingers against the wood of the counter. I let their conversation act as white noise while I worked behind the bar.

"I don't know. You're not even sure who is going to be there."

"Jeno is in the line-up. That at least is confirmed."

I dropped the metal scooper I was using on the floor with a resounding clang.

The three others in the room looked over to me as I hurriedly picked it up with shaking hands. I gave all parties a sheepish look before turning on my back to continue what I was doing.

This time, I was full-on listening.

"If Jeno's going to be there, then it is a goner. There's no chance for others. It'll be full-on suicide," the boy said thoughtfully. The girl, however, shrugged in reply.

"They said the others might come, too. You know, to make the run a little bit more balanced," she offered.

"You mean the seven?"

"The Four, at least."

"Oh shit."

"Uh-huh. So I'm telling you, we gotta be there man. If we can't bet then fine, but we have to see it. It’s been ages since they actually went on lane."

I didn't really know how I managed to finish what I was doing, not with how hard my heart was beating in my chest. I'm not sure how many Jeno's there are in this part of town, but I am sure as hell that there is only one who is a member of a seven-piece 'group.'

"Here's your order," I said thinly as I pushed the finished drinks over to them by the counter. The boy offered his card and I took it quickly, all the while thinking of what I should do next. The few seconds of me typing away at the terminal was the longest quarter minute of my life.

"Here's your receipt. Thank you for coming and see us again," I said, my voice a little weaker than usual. The couple gave a quick bow before turning to leave, drinks in hand.

There are two ways this could go. I could let them out of that door and have my only possible chance of getting in contact with any of the boys leave with them. Or I could call after them and…

I whipped around to call out to my boss, my figure already halfway out from the bar.

"Ahjussi, I'll be back in five minutes, sorry. I promise I'll be quick!"

He had barely looked up when I started running out the door.

-----

"Excuse me!"

The duo looked back at me, then at each other in confusion as I tried my best to hurry up to them without landing on my face. God, why do they walk so fast? They were just a few seconds ahead when they left the shop! Thankfully, they stopped at my call, giving me a chance to skid before them as I tried to catch my breath.

"Um… Is there a problem? We paid, right?" The boy asked me with an odd look. I waved my hand before finally trying to answer.

"Yes. I uh—"

Well, I obviously didn't plan this out clearly. How do I say this now without sounding like a lunatic?

"I heard your conversation earlier. You were talking about Jeno."

The pair exchanged glances again, this time tinged with suspicion. It was the girl who answered this time.

"Yes, we were. What about it?"

"I… I just want—to maybe know where he is? You were talking about tonight's—"

"The drag race?"

I stopped for half a heartbeat before nodding.

"Yeah. The race. I wanted to come, too, but I don't really know the address."

The boy cocked his brow at me in blatant suspicion. It took all of me to pull out all the basics I learned from drama class back in high school to remain calm before his withering glare.

"You know Jeno but don't know the address? That doesn't make any sense," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If you've been in one before you should have been included in the text blast."

Oh shit.

I could feel my palms growing cold from nervousness. Still, I tried pushing on.

"W-well, I was invited before by one of them. But then things fell apart and I started not getting any of the...texts anymore," I said, not having the slightest idea of what I am saying myself. What's ironic though was that what I just blurted out was sort of a half-truth, too.

Apparently—and miraculously—it also made sense by the look of understanding that dawned on their faces.

"I see…" the girl trailed off. She cleared her throat and looked at her friend before glancing at me again.

"Look, I can give you the address, but promise me that you never got it from me when someone asks, okay?" She asked. The boy looked at her incredulously.

"Are you crazy? She was already shadow banned!"

She shushed him and waved her hand off to shut him up. "Look, this is a girl thing. Don't mess with it. Just go ahead to the car, I'll take care of it."

He scoffed but stalked off towards the direction of the parking lot.

She turned towards me again and pulled her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket. I watched as she unlocked the screen before showing it to me.

"Do you have your phone with ya? Here, take a photo of this address."

I swear I could almost kiss her. I scrambled to get my phone from my back pocket and didn't waste another second to take a snap of her screen.

"Thank you so much."

She nodded in understanding before locking her phone again and shoving it into her pocket. "Hey, a girl's gotta stand up for another. Who was it? Was it Haechan?"

"Um…"

She didn't wait for me to finish.

"Really, whoever it is among them, I can't really blame you. They're all cute, but they do need to be taken down a notch when it comes to girls. Those boys," she tsked. "Dangerous."

Oh…

Oh. She thought I was an ex-fling who wanted to teach one of them a lesson by crashing the race. I let that sink in before a frown settled on my features.

Well, aren't you one? The devil on my shoulder cackled at me sardonically.

"Glad to have helped though. But remember, you didn't get it from me, okay?"

With a wink, she strutted off, leaving me staring at her retreating form.

----

I told myself I simply wanted to see him again.

I reminded myself that for the hundredth time tonight as I parked my car on a free space by a gravel road, my eyes roaming the darkness beyond. The place looked deserted, and I had to do one last check if I really put in the right coordinates on my map before finally turning off my engine. The road beyond was wide but uncemented and to its left is a half unfinished building with metal banisters reaching out to the sky like skeletal arms. I swallowed. Every little thing about the space beyond screams danger.

Which probably means I am in the right place.

I reached out to zip up my jacket and pulled the hoodie over my head before getting out of my car. My sneakers crunched on the gravel as I made my way towards a low wall circling the building beyond.

Just try and take a look. You don't have to talk to him. You can keep your distance.

I repeated that in my head again and again as I approached what I assume to be the entrance. A part of me still wants to berate myself for doing this but I am too far gone to try and play the denial game again. I want, no, I need to see Jaemin's world.

The moment I passed through a crack on the wall, it felt like I stepped into a different world. It opened up into an even wider area, the shadows of a multi-lane road behind the abandoned building beyond. Milling around is a throng of people, some smoking, others sipping on red cups on their hands. Some cars were parked against the wall I just passed, their headlights on with music booming out of their rolled down windows.

I tried to swallow the lump on my throat as I looked around. Already, I felt out of place in the crowd, but I steeled myself to push on, my hands digging deeper into the pockets of my jacket.

"Hey."

I looked up to see a boy around my age wave at me. He was also holding a red cup and what looked like a bundle of paper. My eyes widened as that came into focus when he got closer.

Money.

Wads and wads of cash.

"You put your bets already?" He asked as he stuffed the bills into a small belt bag hidden beneath his oversized shirt. He pulled his phone out then, unlocked the screen, and looked at me, waiting for an answer.

"Uh…"

He gave me an odd look.

"Who are you betting on?" He asked again.

I gave the first name I could only think of.

"Ja-Jaemin," I stuttered.

That earned me a low whistle from him as he typed away at his phone, probably to record my choice of 'player.' "I don't know, man. Dude seems pretty out of it lately, but whatever floats your boat." He stuck out his hand to me then, and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was asking for.

"Oh," I scrambled to grab my purse. I was in the middle of pulling my card from my wallet when I saw his face. Slowly, I put it back to reach out for bills instead.

"Cash only."

I sheepishly handed him the last few hundreds I have. He took them, expertly flipping through each bill to count them off.

"First time, eh?"

I nodded.

I watched as he slipped the money into his already overflowing belt bag, thinking that he would leave after that. Instead he nudged his head towards the direction of the building and motioned me along.

"Come on then. At least try and get a good look at your first race."

I blinked in confusion but ran after him as he started walking away.

We stopped at the front row of the half ring of people that had already gathered in front of the abandoned rafters. Just then, a huge spotlight shone over the road behind it, driving everyone to erupt in cheers. Parked in a single line at the foot of the road are five cars, headlights opening one by one.

"Jaemin's the yellow one," the boy nodded towards the one occupying the third lane. I stared. I know next to nothing about cars, but I know enough to be sure that none of the ones in front of me now are something you can buy from your run-of-the-mill auto dealer. Lowered, with shining reams, and a low motor hum that reverberated to where I was standing, I could only briefly compute in my head how much each of those customized rides must have cost.

I heard the boy beside me snort amusedly. "Your first race and you get to see this. I'm telling you, this happens once in a blue moon," he said with a smirk. I didn't say anything, my gaze never leaving the yellow car.

Slowly though, I noticed the crowd's noise die down dramatically the same time that a petite form walked out from the building. The woman stopped in the middle of the road and raised her hand into the night sky, a small pistol in her grasp.

Everyone has gone so quiet now that you could almost hear a needle dropping. Just then, the resounding bang of a gunshot pierced the air. Few other large spotlights turned on simultaneously, revealing the snaking road ahead that was disguised under the darkness earlier. I gasped. The roaring sound of engines blared beyond and with a new uproar from the crowd, the cars were speeding ahead, leaving trails of light in their wake.

My heart was beating so hard against my chest as I tried my best to follow the speeding cars ahead. I was only able to comprehend the real expanse of the road the moment each ride took over its lanes—the place looked more like an abandoned air dock field more than anything else. I was barely aware of my nails digging on the palms of my hands as my eyes switched from Jaemin’s car and the others, particularly on the deep red one that he was currently toe in toe with. The space between the two were a hair’s breadth away and I could almost swear their sides would collide any second.

That went on until a curve on the road appeared. It was the last turn before the finish line and the crowd turned wilder as the nose of each car tried its best to take the lead. I didn’t even realize that I was holding my breath until the last second when the yellow one took over the inner space of the road before swerving successfully ahead.

Everyone around me erupted in cheers. I gave my own gasp, hands covering my lips before joining the rest.

Jaemin’s yellow lambo parked on the finish line, the rest of the race participants trailing behind. I watched as his door opened, revealing his beautiful wide grin and tousled hair. He was glowing, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline. I was so caught up in the image that I barely noticed Jeno appearing from the red car, followed by Renjun, Mark, and Haechan from the other rides.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I watched with a smile as they huddled over Jaemin, playfully pushing and cajoling him for his win. They looked happy, carefree.

But it seems like they aren’t the only ones who were out there in the road. My gaze moved back to Jaemin's car when I saw his passenger seat open. As if in slow motion, a girl got out of it, wearing the same wide smile the others have. The group hooted at her as she joined their huddle.

That’s when I felt as if time has stopped.

The smile on my face slowly faded as I watched Jaemin wrap his arms around her before pulling her into a tight hug.

---

A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be the second to the last chapter of Jaemin’s side story! I originally wanted to finish it in one go, but I thought it would be nice to release the epilogue on Nana’s birthday! So yes, that’ll be out on the 13th, lol. Thank you so much to those who have continued reading this side fic! <3

Chapter 5 (END)

Taglist: @negincho, @springdaybreaks,

119 notes · View notes

ridiasfangirlings · 3 years ago

Note

Sarumi has a small cafe where Yata receives visitors and sometimes cooks, while Fushimi only prepares food according to her own or classic recipes. Some visitors try to flirt with one of them, but they are quickly besieged by others with the words do not touch, sarumi husbands. Literally.

This kinda reminds me of that short story Gora did where they run the flower shop, just imagine cute Sarumi husbands running a quaint little cafe and being married together. Like say AU where they both have a love of cooking and as kids they bond over that, Fushimi's very particular with his recipes while Yata will cook anything at all as long as it's fun to make. When they move in together after middle school they dream of owning a cafe together, imagine them just like drawing little sketches of what it would look like and all the cool kitchen gadgets they would have. Yata figures he'd run front of the house since Fushimi has no social skills and Fushimi could do all the real high-level cooking but sometimes Yata would cook too and they'd be really popular because all the stuff they make will be amazing. The two of them start working odd jobs to try and save enough cash to buy a place and at the same time maybe they both start realizing that what they feel for the other is something beyond just being 'partners.'

This being Sarumi say they do break apart for a time, Yata's working as a bouncer at Bar Homra and say he gets offered like part time use of the kitchen and thinks this is great, he and Fushimi can use this as the start of their restaurant. Fushimi though thinks Yata's giving up their dream just so he can keep working at his beloved Homra with all his stupid coworkers and his stupid superior Mikoto who Yata's always talking about. Fushimi ends up getting work at the high-end restaurant Scepter 4 instead and for a while he and Yata are totally at odds and enemies both in person and in the kitchen. Eventually with some help from their fed-up coworkers they reconcile and in the meantime Fushimi's saved up enough money that he's able to rent this small cafe building, maybe his boss Munakata uses some internal contacts to get this place for Fushimi at a good rate and tells him to please do as he likes with it. Fushimi wants to ask Yata to come cook with him the way they always planned but he's afraid that Yata will choose Homra instead, Yata meanwhile is worried that Fushimi's keeping something from him and say they have a big misunderstanding where Yata thinks that Fushimi's keeping a secret relationship from him or something. Yata decides to finally confess his feelings that he's been in love with Fushimi since they were kids and Fushimi is the only one he wants to cook with and that gets Fushimi to admit that he's been in love with Misaki all this time and he's found them a cafe where they can finally make their dream come true.

So the two of them get married and with some help from their friends they set the whole cafe up so it looks just like the cafe sketches they used to draw when they lived together. The place has a little apartment above the cafe too so they decide to rent that and live together again and eventually they get married, living mostly happily ever after running their restaurant and living their dream. Fushimi's still totally picky about the food he makes while Yata's still always trying to get him to be more adventurous but they work well together and make their cafe a success. Of course it helps business a lot that the two of them are pretty good-looking too, plenty of people try to flirt with Yata mistaking his exuberance for an open invitation and others try to flirt with Fushimi to see if they could be the one to crack his grumpy outer shell. Regulars learn pretty quick that there's no point in flirting though, because Fushimi and Yata only have eyes for each other (also flirting with Yata may cause a knife to 'accidentally' come flying out of the kitchen, so do it only at your own risk).

#sarumi #Talking K #cooking husbands yes I like #imagine them running the place together and being all casually affectionate *^*#also Yata sneakily adding veggies to all Fushimi's dishes bc you have to add vegetables Saru #and of course they have angst for a while bc it's not Sarumi without angst

26 notes · View notes

shirophantomvox · 3 years ago

Text

Flower Pedals Hisoka x reader Part 2

Part 1

❤️♣️❤️♣️

As the day went on, Hisoka volunteered as a chaperone to your younger cousins. They wanted to play in the water while Hisoka sat under a coconut tree, sipping on a strawberry margarita. It would be pointless for an intoxicated man to be a chaperone but he is quite immune to heavy alcohol. Somehow, the sun’s beautiful reflection made Hisoka look like the man you slowly fell for. His job as a bodyguard for the most dangerous mafia in the country, his ability to speak French like a flipped switch, and of course his bulging muscles. Seeing him interact well with your cousins made him seem father-like. But why did he have to act so egotistical? Why couldn’t he be like the guys you saw on the Hallmark channel? Is being loved that hard to ask for? Then the hurtful incident earlier that day entered your mind once again. You didn’t want to break up with Hisoka but it was the only choice.

A tear ran down your face, something you hadn’t done in a while. A silent weep is something everyone needs to do once in a while but weeping in front of others can feel humiliating. Suddenly, you hear a knock on your door and someone enters without your permission. You quickly wiped your tears away and turned around quickly expecting it to be Hisoka. Instead, it was your beloved uncle smiling with a DVD in one hand and popcorn in the other but once he got a quick glimpse of your sad face, his smile disappeared. This time he didn’t run to your rescue but rather asked what’s wrong from a distance. He already knew it had to do with Hisoka but he was curious to hear more.

“Is it about your boyfriend?”

“Yes…”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Physically, no. Emotionally, yes. He has flirted with many people and disregards that I am there. He used to be all over me and now he acts as if I do not exist!”

“That’s horrible. But I have to break it to you. Some men like it when their significant others are jealous. It’s thrilling to them. If you dislike that, you should tell him.”

“I have! He will not listen to me!”

Your uncle grunted in anger and shook his head. He placed his index finger and thumb under his chin, thinking hard about something. Tears rolled from your eyes and felt like they could not stop.

“Come with me, darling.”

Following behind your uncle like a 5-year-old, he led the way to his newly renovated basement, and in that basement stood something that mimicked a lab. He removed a large blanket that covered a table full of glass test tubes and pink liquid. You were hopelessly confused as to why your uncle was smiling at his little creation.

“Uncle…what is all this?”

“Can you guess?”

“Sorry. I have no idea what it is.”

“It’s a love potion!”

You gasp and step back rather far from him. You frowned, not believing what your uncle has told you. Love potions were depicted and always fictional; they simply don’t exist. Hell, Cupid DOES NOT exist and yet he claims that he has made a love potion?! You have always known your uncle to be a wacky man but NOT THIS wacky! Not only did he have a small test tube of this love potion but he had at least 100 small bottles of it too!

“Uncle….don’t tell me…”

“Maybe Hisoka can take a shot of this…”

“U/N! No! That’s wrong!”

“Huh?”

“If he doesn’t love me anymore, I’ll break up with him. Plain and simple.”

“But y/n!-“

“No buts!”

Gosh, you sound like your aunt!

“Why do you have that anyway? I could have sworn you and auntie madly in love anyway.”

“We are….” He stopped talking for a brief moment as he made his way to the door. He did not want your aunt to overhear him speak or else she’d have his head.

“We’ve had a few tiffs lately and she is being distant. I was thinking of giving her this potion.”

“You can’t just…give her that! What if she’s allergic to any ingredient you put in there?”

“SHHH! It’s not a drug, ok darling? It’s essentially a cupid’s arrow in liquid form.”

“Oh yeah! And Santa Claus is real, right? Come on Unc. I’m going to sleep now.”

“Y/N wait! Wait!” Your uncle ran up the stairs after you to try and have an actual heart-to-heart conversation with you. In reality, The love potion wasn’t anything that would harm Hisoka or your auntie; it was something that everyone had. This “love potion” has many variants in the market already. It has its own juice, pop, and merchandise line. When people gave testimonies about them falling madly in love with their partners, you thought it was an absolute joke!

The day had reached 11 PM. The sun had set for the day and the bright stars shined brightly against the beach. Chrollo and the others had left hours ago probably forgetting that you and Hisoka had tagged along. As you cleared the dinner table, the love potion sat there, in its small slender glass frame. This had been extracted so it could be digested but still, you didn’t go anywhere near it.

“Don’t leave this unattended. If a person drinks too much, they’ll become a fool for you and as romantic as that sounds, it can be VERY overwhelming.”

As you turned the lights off downstairs, the front door barreled open. Your eyes had been adjusted to light for the last few hours; seeing in the dark was nearly impossible. But one thing is for sure, that infamous bubble gum small dashed towards your nostrils.

Hisoka.

The lights turned on once again and this time, they began to flicker a little. Hisoka’s piercing golden eyes were able to grab a hold of yours instantly. It felt like you were paralyzed with sudden fear and anger. So many emotions raged throughout your body; your brain sending many signals to the various parts of your body. Both of your cousins come running in, arms stuck out like airplanes zooming all through the living room. One flew underneath Hisoka’s legs and the other flew many times around you. Their sudden joy made you smile a little; they were so full of joy and hope…that is until they grow up.

“I like your boyfriend, y/n!”

“Yeah! He’s so fun! He taught me how to play Poker!”

“You what?!”

“Hey! She needs to know in case she needs to make some cash.”

“Ok, you two. Up to bed. Mom and Dad are waiting for you.”

Both of your cousins zoom into their rooms making loud airplane noises.

“I must admit, I see potential in those kids. They made their own marshmallows, mingled amongst people their age, and even reminded me when their bedtime was.”

He looked from the staircase to you. “Thank you for—“ he stopped as he looked at your angry face.

“—Are you still mad about earlier?”

“What do you think, jerk?”

“Would you stop playing hard to get? You haven’t given me a kiss today.” He bent down and puckered his lips, expecting you to respond. Instead, you turn the lights off leaving a kiss-less Hisoka in the dark. Hisoka stood in the middle of the dark living room beyond confused at your actions.

Finally! Alone at last. No one to interrupt your thoughts or sleep, just you in your auntie’s guest room. The bed was extra comfy! It was so fluffy that it almost made you get up and inside Hisoka to sleep with you.

“No. He needs to learn his lesson,” you thought to yourself. Besides, a non-married couple sleeping in the same bed together was NOT going to fly in this house. Before you knew it, your eyes were closed for what felt like 20 minutes but were actually 8 hours. The sun beamed through the curtains acting as your silent alarm clock. Stretching your muscles and yawing felt amazing after a good night’s sleep. Checking your phone was a reflex but feeling an odd source of shadows made you freeze. As you slowly turned around, Hisoka was laying in your bed, with his boxers on, smiling, and gawking at you; something he’d never done. You thought rubbing your eyes twice would make him go away, but he was still there in the flesh. Still angry about yesterday's encounter, you stare at him plainly.

“What in the world are you doing here, Hisoka?”

“To be with you, of course, my dear.” His tone was much softer; it felt as if he was barely moving his tongue. His lips slightly puckered as he spoke. Your boyfriend was always mysterious but it can be said that he was never predictable.

“What are you talking about?”

He scoots closer to you; his bare chest rubbing against your right arm. He places his left arm around your neck pulling you closer. So close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He took his index knuckle, placed it under your chin, and lifted.

“Oh, how I missed your face…the sound of your voice…my heart aches for you.”

You blink twice.

Am I dreaming? What is going on here?!

“Hisoka—“

He placed his index finger over your lips; his long nail gently scratches the top part. “Shhh….” Quickly but softly, Hisoka gives you a kiss but not just an ordinary kiss, one that is very breathtaking. His lips were much softer than you remember and a lot moister. He didn’t force anything; he gently moved his lips to make you more comfortable. What felt like a lifetime was truly only 10 seconds and on the 11th, he parted. Gazing into his golden eyes this time made your heart skip a beat. You remained silent, slightly afraid to say a word as he stared into your eyes deeply. This was not his blood-lust look at all but awfully similar. His eyes were half-lidded but they were soft, much softer than you had seen before. Just as you were about to say something, he gently grabs your face and begins to kiss you all around without remorse. This overwhelming amount of affection not only made you bluff but be utterly embarrassed if your aunt and uncle caught you two in this state. It’s more of the family “aww’ ing” than anything else.

“How did Hisoka suddenly do a 360 from last night?”

“Might as well enjoy this while it lasts.”

Hisoka continued to place soft kisses. He began to pepper your lower jaw with them, earning a slightly satisfied grunt from yourself. He then professed his love for you as he kissed you in between phrases. The magician himself was as red as an apple while you were a giggling mess. He moved his lips to another part of your body. His hand kisses felt amazing once more. He moved his way up your arm and to your shoulder.

“You smell terrific, kitten,” he said in a lower huskier voice.

You growl in response; something so embarrassing that you are happy your nosy little cousins did not hear.

“You’re so adorable, kitten. So delicate that I’d be afraid to touch. So beautiful like the colors and aroma omitting from a blossom tree.”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

Before Hisoka said another word, he placed his right hand where the bottom of your head and neck met. He gently caressed it as he pressed his forehead against yours. The soft feeling of his nose moving swiftly against yours felt like ecstasy. Nothing could ruin this moment.

“Hisoka’s a simp!”

Both of you jerked your heads to the door. Through the crack, you could see two curious pairs of eyes, staring into your room. Before Hisoka could leave the bed, you jump over him and march to the door.

“You know, it’s rude to stalk people in their bedrooms.”

“And? It’s rude for you to be staying the night in my beach house and not giving us any money. Hand it over sis.”

You close the door and jump back into bed with your new boyfriend. Hisoka practically had hearts in his eyes. It’s as if he saw no one but you.

Maybe he has changed….

Your uncle’s voice could be heard a distance away and that’s when it hit you.

“Don’t leave this unattended. If a person drinks too much, they’ll become a fool for you and as romantic as that sounds, it can be VERY overwhelming.”

Oh shit! Where is the potion?! No! It was left on the table last night!”

"Really, Unc? I think I can deal with this. After all, he is less insufferable. I’ve always wanted my beau back and I hope he remains this way…falling on his knees before me."

To be continued....

63 notes · View notes

tonystarkhasaheart · 4 years ago

Text

You Know Who I am

Tony Stark X Reader

Word Count: 2,741

Summary: Y/N a stripper who has a day job at Stark Industries and her boss pays her a pretty generous visit

Author's Note: Even though this is my first fanfic it will have 4 parts, hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Part 2 is on it's way soon.

I look up at myself in the mirror, eyes heavy from the weight of my lashes, dark, smokey.. yet sensual. Lips plump and red, a deep red nothing too bright.

I take a moment to glance at the room around me, girls in and out the velvet curtain, changing clothes, spraying perfume and adding last-minute glitter. I look at my phone to check the time 12:46am.

“Hot date tonight?” I hear from my left, I don’t need to turn to see who it is, most of the girls here don’t talk to me, except for Siren. Not her real name of course, but I guess when you have a real-life outside of this you don’t want anyone to know it. I don’t blame her.

I set my phone down and look at her with a gentle smile and turn to the bag I keep under my station between rounds, pulling out my book to read. I can feel Siren’s breathe over my shoulder. “Just some light reading?” She asks.

I laugh lightly “The lightest I’ve read in a while actually.” I smile to myself as I run my fingers over the title on the cover of Quantum Physics and Theories of the Mind.

“Don’t want to spoil it for you” she said scooting back a bit with her hands up feigning surrender.

I smile again, I forgot I actually like her sense of humor “It’s okay,” I look up from the cover, “I already know the ending.”

Before any more words can be exchanged, I hear my stage name being called by the house mom. “Bambi, you’re up sweets!”

“Thank you, Cassandra!” I place my book back in its place and grab my money bag turning to Siren one last time, “Why don’t we ever hang out, outside of here?”

“Because you’re too busy being a smart ass in the real world,” Siren says with a smile.

I wink at her before walking through the velvet curtains where it is almost pitch black, except for the neon lights circulating the room and spotlights on the main stage. I scan the crowd as I listen to my heels click on my way up to the DJ booth. A number of regulars and just as many new faces but the back of one man’s head stood out. I couldn’t quite place it at the quick glance that I got, but he was sitting front and center so it wouldn’t be long before I figured it out.

A dancer by the name of Scarlett was finishing up and I gave the DJ my song. He looked and me and shook his head laughing “You never fail to surprise me” I smile and look back at the stage to see Scarlett doing her best and receiving money from plenty of customers, but she was focused on one, and he looked like he couldn’t care less. Front and center with a profile that could kill, elbow on the arm of his seat with his head in his hand and his sunglasses pointlessly resting on the bridge of his nose. And then it hit me, not only was he like the richest man alive; he was also, indirectly speaking, my boss. Tony Stark.

I had only briefly met him once after my orientation at Stark Industries, so I wasn’t worried about being recognized. It was the fact that he was the man I wanted to wake up to every morning to study his brilliant brain. Now that, that did the trick. I felt heat spread through my body starting at my core and working its way to my neck. I rubbed the back of my neck as I shook off the nerves. I got this, just another customer, just one with a lot more money than most.

As the music faded from Scarlett’s song, I watched her pick up her money and try and shove it in her bag. The DJ started talking to the crowd and hyping up Scarlett as she walked around collecting some final tips. She got on her knees in front of Mr. Stark and leaned in real close. Without a single change in his demeanor, he pulled a single bill from the inside of his suit jacket and handed it to her between his middle and index finger, as if he was trying to shoo her away. But even I could see it was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. She looked at the bill offended and snatched it from his fingers before finishing her way around the stage. Once she was done, she passed me with a huff, practically cussing the billionaire out as she exited the stage to the back with her bag overflowing with money from the other customers. Something about being a ‘cheap micropenis douche who wouldn’t be able to appreciate a good dance if it hit him in the face. I shook my head pushing the waves of my hair over my shoulder as the DJ started to introduce me.

“If you thought Scarlett was good let the bar know and you might be able to get a private dance before she leaves tonight. But you might not want to leave just yet because next, we have our very best. A woman who can turn any type of music into your new favorite song. Here to prove it once again, the seductress herself, Bambi!”

I laugh to myself at the length of his introduction, but it’s true I like a challenge and today I picked a song that I normally wouldn’t have. “Back in Black” by AC/DC started playing and I couldn’t help but notice a certain man in the front’s ears begin to perk up at the first couple of notes. Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me but I swear I even saw him sit up a little straighter.

I took confident, sexy strides towards the front of the stage and swayed my hips in a circle once I got in front of the pole. I held it as I circled it scanning the crowd. I dropped my hips and rose sensual making my ass bounce to the beat before turning my back to the pole and rolling my hips. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Stark lean forward in his chair hands clasped, elbows on his knees. He was invested and I wanted to give him a show.

I started to climb the pole and as I did, he slid his sunglasses off his face, looking directly into my eyes, staring deep into my soul with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. But I knew tonight I wouldn’t get to see the pain or trauma he’s overcome through his eyes because tonight, they were filled with lust.

Lust, passion..Possession.

As I slid down the pole his eyes never left my body. I gracefully landed on the floor and crawled to the edge of the stage. I turned to lay on my back letting the waves of my hair cascade off the edge, I arched my back looking straight at him. In a swift motion, almost a blur, my view was clouded by the storm of papers falling from the sky. Now standing directly over me with his hands firmly pressed against the stage on either side of my face. As lay there on my back I realized what just happened. I just made a billionaire rain hundreds upon my body and his face hovering over mine, was him making his claim on me for the night.

I sensually brought myself back to my knees slightly rolling in the thick layer of money that covered the stage. I twirled my ass in a way I know would make anyone weak and I didn’t have to look back to know he was all in. Crawling my way back to the pole using it to stabilize myself as I try to stand, simultaneously trying not to trip on the stage that I couldn’t see anymore. Now this wasn’t my first time getting rained on at the club, however when I looked down, the most notable difference between now and any other time it’s happened was that it was normally a slew of ones, maybe some fives, occasionally a couple stray twenties. But this... was all hundreds. Strictly Benjamin’s scattered across the whole stage to the point you couldn’t see anyone else’s money that was thrown during my set. I’m definitely going to need a bigger money bag.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Three trash bags, four security guards and five songs later, I just about collected all the money Mr. Stark threw for me. Now usually, we don’t get help picking up our money, unless it’s a VIP room shared by three or more dancers. However, because of the sheer amount of money and the fact that I was the club’s best dancer, they played favorites tonight. Not to mention girls from the back started to pick up bills that had overflowed from the stage onto the floor. Even some of the customers started pocketing some of the cash and honestly, could you blame them?

I immediately gave the bags of money to our house mom so she could cash me out for the night, but as I handed her my bags she told me I had a VIP room and she would put the bags in her safe until I was done. My heart sped up a bit as I hoped it was the very generous billionaire, but what are the odds that he would get a VIP room with me right after throwing a million dollars at me, literally. Technically I could’ve turned it down, I mean I definitely made more than enough money tonight, but part of me wanted to see who it was.

I touched up my makeup, ran a brush through my hair and freshened up a bit before changing my heels to a more comfortable black pair. As I walked through the curtains to the main floor, I could see Siren on stage dancing to “Body Party” by Ciara. I took note that the front row seat was occupied by another man. My heartbeat quickened as I turned towards the VIP rooms down the hall.

The closer I got I could hear the voice I dreamed of waking up next to. I took a deep breath primped my hair and opened the door to the room. His back was turned to me as he talked into his phone. He seemed unamused and inconvenienced. I took the moment to admire his figure as he hung up, not noticing my presence yet. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair, oh how I’d love to lace my fingers through those tresses, before throwing his phone at the coach.

“I heard you were looking for a private dance,” I say as I entering the room further making my presence known.

Unfazed by this discovery, he turned around with that signature smirk. All doubt and suspicions placed aside I was standing in front of the Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist himself, Tony Stark.

“And I heard you were the best,” taking a step closer to me.

“Depends on who you ask,” mimicking his actions.

“I trust my sources,” he said looking me up and down “, they’ve never failed me before.”

“Once or twice is not never,” I scoffed remembering the time my team had to cover a minuscule mistake in one of the details for a new clean air prototype we were working on that could have cost the company millions because one of his “sources” said it looked good enough.

“What are you-” I cut him off, closing the distance between us and reach for his tie to play with between my fingers. The way the fabric felt between my fingers let me know it was no clip-on, job interview tie. It was probably custom-made and imported from France or something ridiculous like that.

“So are we going stand here and banter or did you want that dance. Or was that an excuse to get me alone?”

“You better watch yourself, princess”

“Oh,” I tilted my head to the side challenging his very existence “, or what?”

“You know who I am.”

“Hmm, so maybe I do, but we have rules here,” I push him back on the couch “, Sir.” I smirk before climbing on him and straddling his lap placing my hands on his chest on either side of his arc reactor. I feel him tense slightly as I touched his chest, maybe an insecurity. I scanned his eyes, easily reading everything that fed into my suspicions. He looked as if I would turn and run in fear that he was some sort of monster, at any second just because it was there. I bring one of my hands to his cheek and stroked it in reassurance, silently letting him know I wasn’t going anywhere and not just because he was paying me to be here. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and regained his cockiness. All traces of the vulnerable moment we shared gone as I slid my hand down his neck to rest on his shoulder.

“So, it looks like I’m getting my dance after all,” he said running his hands up my thighs and resting them on my hips.

I started to roll my hips in circles, biting my lip so I wouldn’t enjoy the touch of his hands on my bare skin too much, “It would appear so.”

“What does a girl like you know about AC/DC?”

“I’m offended Mr. Stark, a girl like me?” I grabbed the hair at the base of his neck pulling lightly, tilting his head back. He groaned as I rolled my hips harder for emphasis.

“That’s not what I—fuck.”

I smiled as he squeezed his eyes shut, admiring the twisted expression his face held. I took the hand that was resting on his chest up his neck to his face running my fingers over his lips, they parted instinctively, before cupping his cheek and leaning in close to his ear whispering, “Mr. Stark I’m afraid you know nothing about me and the type of girl I am.”

His hands slid further up my waist gripping me tightly. At least I’d have a couple bruises to remember him by. He opened his eyes and for the split second I saw them, they were pitch black. He growled slightly pulling me into the most animalistic, passionate kiss I have ever shared with anyone. Quick to reciprocate, I wrapped both my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers in his hair, desperately trying to grasp on to any bit of sanity I had left. He bit my lip asking me for the permission that I granted him oh so quickly and without hesitation. He moved swiftly and his presence was so strong I was intoxicated by his scent, he was everywhere and nowhere at once, flooding my senses with everything that was him. I pulled away reluctantly needing to catch my breath. It came out in gasps, but he didn’t miss a beat sliding down to my neck feverishly, desperate to have my flesh between his lips.

“Mr. Stark,” I moaned.

“Call me Tony,” he said.

“I-I can’t,” I gasped, fighting another moan.

“Why not, princess?” barely letting his lips leave my neck even for a second, not seeming fazed by my answer. I could feel the smile on his lips, I couldn’t give in.

“I just, I can’t tell you.” Whatever spell he had me under was about to have me sleep with my boss without him even knowing he was my boss. Not that it wouldn’t be consensual but I still wouldn’t want to raise any problems at work.

He hummed against my neck and licked from the base of my throat to my ear then peppered kisses back to my lips before saying, “You’re trying to hide something from me, but I’ll figure it out.” He started to stand and I slid off of his lap still in his tight embrace. He leaned down kissing the corner of my mouth and whispered in my ear, “You know who I am,” and with that, he straightened his jacket grabbed his phone and left the room.

There I stood lipstick smudged, high off the intoxicating drug that was Anthony Edward Stark.

#tony stark #iron man #tony stark has a heart #robert downey jr #rdj #rdj x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #fanfic #mcu #you know who i am

119 notes · View notes

rosiehunterwolf · 3 years ago

Text

For the Romping and the Roaring- Part 2

My submission for Day 2 of @serpentfever's Inhuman Event!

Link to read on ffn.net (Recommended if you are on mobile or haven't read the first part yet)

Preview:

The hair on the back of her neck raised, sensing the hit a moment before it came, but by then it was too late to dodge, even with her quick reflexes.

Kai’s hand shoved into her chest, and she hit the ground hard. She gasped, more from shock than pain, and then her brother was darting past her, out the door.

She gazed after him, dazed. She had experienced her fair share of fights with her brother, but he had never hit her before. It hadn’t hurt bad- she knew the raw strength he could pack, and that he had been holding back immensely, but it still- it still made her heart race.

“Nya!” Jay yelped, running over to her. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine,” she breathed, her voice shaking hard. She swallowed, trying to force out the tremor.

This hadn’t changed anything. She wasn’t afraid of her brother. Just a bit shocked, that was all. He hadn’t meant to do it, he had just lashed out out of frustration.

He would never hurt her on purpose.

He would never.

(Full chapter under the cut)

Prompts Used: Injury

Word Count: 6,730 (wooo this one hopefully won't crash my browser)

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Dehumanization

“Lloyd, come away from the door. It’s too cold outside.”

Lloyd looked back reluctantly at Nya’s call. Kai peered at him from over the large grocery bag he was carrying.

“She’s right, bud. The last thing we need is for someone to get sick. Medicine is pricey,” he added, frowning at the lightness of his wallet.

Zane carried in another bag beside him and pulled the door shut. Nya walked over to him, ruffling Lloyd’s hair as she passed. “How are we doing on cash?”

“We still got enough for a little while. But not a ton. I guess I underestimated all the stuff we would need.” He frowned, glancing around at their makeshift home, shivering as a chill tickled through the air. “We should’ve gotten more blankets. With winter coming, it’s going to be tough having no heat.”

“We should take turns sleeping with Lloyd. He’s like a little living furnace.”

Kai smirked. “Well, at least that’s one person we shouldn’t have to worry about. I thought he might be more vulnerable because of how small he is, but those dragon and oni genes really seem to be doing something for him.”

“Speaking of which,” Nya sighed, “he nearly set Cole on fire today.”

Kai winced. “Did we lose anything?”

“Just a blanket and part of a shirt.”

Kai shook his head, turning towards the boy. “Lloyd, what did I say about using fire breath indoors?”

Lloyd hardly seemed to hear, gekkering softly as he climbed up a support beam, flapping his wings a few times to propel him up to the rafters. Red eyes glowed eerily down at them, and Kai sighed.

“He’s only getting more restless the longer we’re in here,” Nya growled. “You don’t know what a pain he is when you’re gone.”

Kai crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s been two weeks. We can’t keep him in here forever.”

“We can’t stay here forever,” Cole grunted, looking up from the book he was reading. “We’re already running low on funds. We’re going to have to get jobs, somehow. And we can’t live in an abandoned warehouse for the rest of our lives- already, we’re struggling with the winter coming. Jay’s already got a cold. Sooner or later, one of us is going to freeze to death.”

Kai drummed his fingers along his thigh, turning his gaze to where the lab hybrid was snuggled on the floor in a pile of blankets, near the center of the building, where it was warmest. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s gonna be fine, it’s just a common cold. We’re just letting him sleep it off. But winter’s only just beginning. It’s only going to get worse from here on out.”

“Cole’s right,” Zane said. “We have to try something else.”

“We’re just a bunch of kids,” Nya snapped, her voice tight. “We have no idea what we’re doing.”

“Perhaps it’s time… we start looking for help.”

Three wary gazes shifted to Zane.

Kai narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that? Everybody hates our skins. Who would help us?”

“We don’t know that for sure. Borg told us that the world had it out for us… but he also pretended to care about us when he was really just using us.”

“Are you suggesting we go to the police?!” Nya growled. “Do you want to die?”

“Borg lied about a lot of things. What if he was lying about this, too?”

“And what if he wasn’t?” Kai retorted. “That’s a huge risk, Zane. One we can’t afford to take.”

“It was only a suggestion.”

“I get where you’re coming from, Zane,” Cole sighed, “but they’re right. That’s a big risk, and if we’re chased out, we have nowhere to go this time.”

“So what do we-”

They were interrupted by a shrill shriek, and whipped around to see Jay jerking up into a sitting position, Lloyd half-slumped over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Lloyd, leave Jay alone, he’s resting,” Kai chastised, rushing over to scoop him off of Jay. Lloyd squirmed in his grip, and Kai sighed. “What is wrong with you today?”

“He’s got too much energy for this cramped little place,” Nya told him. “He’s gonna end up hurting someone if we don’t do something about it.”

“Take him outside,” Jay sniffed, “before he burns the whole place down. And besides, he’s the only one of us you guys haven’t let wander since we got here. How is this different from what Borg did to him his whole life?”

“We’re protecting him from Borg,” Kai growled sharply. “If it was up to Borg, he’d be dead right now. I think we’re doing a much better job.”

“I’m not saying we aren’t,” Jay corrected quickly, waving his hands. “But I thought we wanted to give him the freedom he never had.”

“It’s not that simple, Jay,” Nya sighed. “Lloyd’s wanted- we all are, but he’s got the most at risk. If he’s spotted by anyone from Borg- it’s dangerous, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Of course it is. But so is hiding in an abandoned building for the rest of our lives. So is having nothing but a quickly-dwindling stash of money to our name. So is sleeping in a cold building with no heat through the winter. So is keeping a frustrated, fire-breathing brat inside a flammable area for two weeks.”

Lloyd shot a plume of fire at his face, and Jay shrieked, ducking. “See? I told you!” “Nah, he’s just mad at you for calling him a brat,” Nya snickered.

Kai gritted his teeth, pushing Lloyd’s face to the side until he stopped. “Jay does have a point, though. Maybe it’s worth trying to take him out.”

“But Borg-”

“We’ll be really careful,” Kai told her. “I’ll make sure he’s ready, and on his best behavior. You plan out where we’re going to go.”

Cole frowned. “How many of us are going to be going?”

“Two, plus Lloyd, would be ideal. Any more would draw too much attention.”

“Three of us could still be risky,” Cole warned. “Everyone at Borg looking for us will know what we look like. Disguises can only go so far.”

“I don’t want to just send one person out with Lloyd, though. If things go south, we’re going to need to stall for a little bit until we can get away.”

Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure how much I like the odds of two of you against a whole legion of Borg associates.”

“We don’t know for sure there’ll be that many,” Zane reminded. “And it will take a while to call backup.”

“And besides,” Kai added, “I’m not planning on getting noticed. It’s just a precaution if we do.”

Everyone stared expectantly at Cole, who remained silent. Lloyd struggled in his arms, and Kai let him go. The boy bounded over to the badger hybrid, and gripped his leg, looking up pleadingly. Cole looked down at him, his forehead creasing. Closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh.

“Alright, Kai, but I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

---

Kai, in fact, did not know what he was doing.

The plan was so simple in his head- teach Lloyd to blend in by having him get used to disguises and showing him the proper behaviors. They had done a very similar thing every time they had taken Lloyd out on one of their outings, back when they had still been living at Borg Tower. How hard could it be, really?

As it turned out, very hard.

Nya had not been lying about his exuberance. He seemed determined to make every little thing difficult.

“Lloyd, just put on this hat! You’ve done it before, quit being stubborn now!”

Lloyd jerked away from the hat like it was some sort of disease, hissing and batting at it. When Kai tried to pull it over his head, the boy grabbed it in his teeth and started pulling.

“No, no, don’t rip it! Augh, why can’t you just do as you’re told!”

“How’s the training going?” Nya laughed.

Kai turned to glare at her, releasing the hat. “Fine, thank you.”

“Really? Because it looks like your pupil just got away…”

Kai jerked his head back. Lloyd had dragged the hat, by his teeth, across the room, and was now slipping himself under the slab of wood that they had used as a foundation for a bed, which was much too low to the floor for Kai to even dream of fitting under.

He scowled, walking over to where Lloyd had wedged himself into, and stuck his arm underneath it, praying that he didn’t lose any fingers.

Luckily, Lloyd didn’t seem to be in a biting mood, but Kai could feel him cringing back from his touch.

“Come on, Lloyd, just come out of there already-”

He stopped as he realized Nya was giggling. Shooting her a glare, he growled, “What’s so funny?”

“You think you’re gonna have him ready to go by the end of the week?”

“You see if I don’t. You’re gonna be sorry you ever doubted me.”

“Uh-huh. If that’s what you need to tell yourself, I suppose.”

---

“Brr,” Jay huffed, as he and Nya pushed the door shut. “The wind’s really picking up out there.”

“Hopefully it’s just a cold streak,” she agreed. “I don’t want it to be too cold if we’re bringing Lloyd out in a couple days.”

“You guys still on for that?”

“I think so. Kai says he’s making progress with him. I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Hey Nya, Jay,” Cole nodded at them. “You feeling better, bro?”

“Oh, a lot better. Good as new! I think it was just a little cold. I can go back to helping out, now.”

Zane sighed. “We were fortunate, this time. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“Lloyd,” Nya called, pulling a package of gummy bears out of one of the shopping bags. “We got a surprise for you!”

She cast her gaze to the rafters, expecting him to come leaping down, but was surprised when she saw him wriggle out from where he was dozing beside Kai, instead.

She handed him the bag. “Don’t eat them all at once, okay? We’re a little tight on money right now, so you won’t be getting any more for a while.”

The smile he shot her was small, with no teeth, as he took the bag. “Thanks, Nya.”

She frowned at him. The last time she had brought him candy, he had basically been jumping off the walls with excitement, his tail swishing and ears twitching. Now, he was barely even smiling, and stood abruptly still.

Tugging at the seal, his brow furrowed as it didn’t open. When he didn’t immediately tear it open with his fangs, and instead handed it to her so she could open it for him, she knew something was definitely off.

“What’s wrong, Lloyd? Are you feeling alright? Aren’t you happy with it?”

“No, I want it!” he yelped, grabbing for the bag.

She frowned at him, snatching it away. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Lloyd’s ears drooped, his hands dropping to his side. “Kai told me to act like the humans so I could go outside. Did I do bad?”

Nya felt her heart squeeze. “Oh, no, honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. I… I’m just not used to seeing you like this.”

He looked up at her, red eyes hopeful. “I did it right? I acted good?”

Nya took a slow breath. “Yeah, I mean… Lloyd, what exactly did Kai tell you to do?”

Lloyd shrugged. “He said if I smile too much, people can see my fangs.” Peeling back his lips, he pointed to the sharp teeth, as if Nya needed a demonstration. “Seeh?”

“Yes, Lloyd, I see. But why do you need to hide your fangs in here?”

“Kai said I’m prat-practicing,” Lloyd told her matter-of-factly, looking immensely pleased with himself for pronouncing the long word. “So I can be good when we go outside!”

Nya’s stomach felt hard. “What other kinds of things did he tell you to do, Lloyd?”

“He teached me how to not wiggle my ears so much.” He pointed to his ears, making a point of holding them still. “And we talked a lot. He’s showing me to walk on my feet better too, which is kinda wobbly though, and not as fast as using my hands, too. But Kai said I’m doing better than I was! Hey, Nya,” he added, pointing at her face, “you’re doing that thing Kai told me not to do. I can see your fangs!”

Nya unclenched her teeth, working her jaw. “Thanks, bubs. I’m gonna go talk to Kai now, okay? You have some of your gummies.”

Turning to where her brother was slouched against the wall, paging through a magazine, she stormed over to him. He glanced up at her nonchalantly, and Nya felt a surge of frustration in her chest at how calm he was.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why have you been teaching that stuff to Lloyd, Kai? Why is he acting so… weird?”

“You mean normal? It’s great, isn’t it? I gotta admit, it felt like an impossible task at the beginning of the week, but he’s reformed pretty quickly. I think he’s almost ready to go out!”

“It’s not great,” she growled. “You’ve completely changed who he is! There’s a difference between teaching him to stay low and to completely reforming him into human society!”

Kai eyed her testily. “I don’t see what the big deal is. What else were you expecting me to do?”

“I wanted you to hide him, not change his behavior! This isn’t him, Kai!”

“Relax, Nya, it’s just some minor modifications. He’s still our mischievous little brother!” “Really? Because he seemed much less feral to me.”

“Well, yeah! We can’t have him acting out in the middle of the city! I, for one, think this is an improvement. He hasn’t set anything on fire in days.”

“We’re not humans, Kai! We’re different than them, and that’s okay! He has to know that. He has to know what we are! We can’t just try to change him just because it’s what the world wants.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with being like the humans. They’ve gotten off alright, haven’t they? Meanwhile, we’ve spent our whole lives being cheated and used.”

“Just because something’s hard doesn’t mean we should just give up! I can’t believe you, don’t you care about your identity at all?” “I care about surviving. I’m trying to keep us safe! What’s a few little changes if it benefits us in the long run?”

“It might start as just some small changes, Kai, but eventually it’s going to snowball into something bigger.” She felt her voice catch in her throat. “I don’t want to teach him to hide who he is. I want him to be proud. He hasn’t done anything wrong! We left Borg to get away from that, didn’t we? So that we could start our own paths and be who we wanted to be?”

“You wanted to be homeless and poor?”

“Kai!”

“What? You’re upset with me for telling the truth? We ran away from Borg so we could live. It was out of necessity, not even a choice, really.”

“Borg was our captor. He lied to us our whole lives, made us believe he was the only one who cared when he couldn’t be bothered with us at all. If you’re seriously defending him right now-”

“I’m not defending him, of course I’m not!” Kai jumped to his feet, growling. “What kind of psychopath do you think I am? He tried to kill my baby brother! If you think I would be on his side after that-”

“But don’t you see, it’s more than just that! He was hurting all of us, for years. He was a bad person even before he decided to get rid of Lloyd. Now’s our chance to finally be free of all that. Now’s our chance to be ourselves, to-”

“To get captured again, according to you.”

“How could you say that? I want to protect everyone as much as you do, but I also think you are posing a threat to us by imposing on us the same rules Borg did-”

“How dare you compare me to him!” Kai roared. Nya flinched, and she felt the others turn their gazes on them. “I am nothing like that wretch, nothing, I want nothing more than to protect my family from him! I am doing what I must to keep us safe from him, to keep us as far away as possible. I am trying to avoid suspicion, and I don’t care about your sentimental values. I care about surviving!”

If it was anyone else, they would’ve backed down. Kai didn’t break out his roar at just any time, especially not on those he cared about. When he did, you knew he was seriously pissed. No one in their right minds would mess with him when he was mad.

But Nya was his sister, and her temper was just as hot. Although she might not have the strength of a lion behind her, or the fierceness of his roar, she wasn’t going to let her brother scare her.

“You are not protecting us, you are only restricting us, and the sooner you find out that you are just treating us like he did-”

The hair on the back of her neck raised, sensing the hit a moment before it came, but by then it was too late to dodge, even with her quick reflexes.

Kai’s hand shoved into her chest, and she hit the ground hard. She gasped, more from shock than pain, and then her brother was darting past her, out the door.

“Nya!” Jay yelped, running over to her. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine,” she breathed, her voice shaking hard. She swallowed, trying to force out the tremor.

This hadn’t changed anything. She wasn’t afraid of her brother. Just a bit shocked, that was all. He hadn’t meant to do it, he had just lashed out out of frustration. And, although she still believed she was in the right, she had provoked him a bit, if she was being honest.

He would never hurt her on purpose.

He… he would never do that.

He would never.

He…

“Nya?”

She blinked, realizing Jay was extending a hand to her. She took it, and let Jay pull her to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No!” she hissed fiercely, and Jay flinched. Gentler, she added, “I’m fine. Kai would never do that.”

Jay didn’t meet her gaze, only gripped her hand tighter.

“Where did he go?” she asked the others, after her breathing had returned to a somewhat normal state.

“Straight out the door,” Zane replied. “No one saw which way he went.”

Nya glanced around the room, stopping when she realized Kai wasn’t the only one missing. “Where’s Lloyd?”

Zane pointed quietly under one of their makeshift beds. A pair of red eyes glowed from underneath.

Nya crouched down, reaching her hand in. “We didn’t mean to scare you, Lloyd. Come on out, it’s alright now.”

Lloyd burrowed deeper under the bed. Nya sighed, giving up. She knew he would only come out when he was ready.

“Should I go after Kai?” Cole asked, frowning.

Zane shook his head. “I think it’s best to give him some space to blow off some steam.”

“I just hope he’s careful. If he’s too full of anger to pay attention to what he’s doing…”Jay’s tail drooped. “The last thing we need is for anyone to get spotted now.”

“We’re pretty far out here,” Cole assured him. “If we were closer to the city, I’d be worried, but Kai’d have to get pretty far to get anywhere within the distance I think the Borg employees would be searching.”

“I hope you’re right,” Nya sighed. “One day, his temper is going to get him- or one of us- into a situation he can’t get out of.”

---

The next couple days were incredibly tense. Kai came back a few hours later, not speaking to anyone and going straight to bed. He and Nya hardly spoke to each other, and when they did, their interactions were short and argumentative. The others were careful to stay out of it, not picking any sides. Kai had a feeling that they were pretty uncomfortable around him, though.

He hadn’t meant to hit Nya. She was his sister. Even though she was being stupid and sentimental, he still loved her and never would want to hurt her. But it wasn’t like he had seriously wounded her, either. It had just been a little scuffle. He knew that Nya knew that, and that she was only mad about the argument. The others, however… they were overreacting. He didn’t understand, after all their years together, how they could seriously think he would harm one of them.

That’s what the point of all of this was, wasn’t it? To protect them? Why couldn’t anyone else see that?

He was sick of all this. Sick of all the fighting, sick of struggling and hiding all the time. He just wished they could be normal.

Although Nya wanted anything but that, it seemed.

He understood what she was saying, in a sense- they were different. But was it really so bad to want to change who you were if it meant a life of peace and safety?

Kai just didn’t know anymore. He was tired of being the one who had to decide. He missed when they were younger, and Borg had made all the decisions for them.

Not that he wanted Borg to be in charge of them anymore- but the sentiment still stood.

But life had a way of being against them.

Wishes weren’t going to fix anything.

---

When the scheduled day for Lloyd’s venture into the town rolled around, the circumstances hadn’t improved much. They had originally planned for him and Nya to accompany Lloyd- a decision he was regretting now, with the tension still between them. He almost considered asking one of the others to take his place, but decided against it. He wanted to be there with Lloyd- he had been the one who had spent all the time training him, after all. And he didn’t dare ask Nya to change her mind about going- she would probably argue just for the sake of it, and it wasn’t worth the confrontation right now. Things were already bad enough as it was.

As they wrapped Lloyd up in his winter gear, he complied much more easily than usual, and three of them set out quietly.

“Where are we gonna go?” Kai asked Nya as they approached the bus stop.

“I was thinking we could go downtown, more towards where the little shops are. The people there are pretty nice, and it’s usually bustling, so it’ll be easy to blend in with the crowds.”

“How many stops down is that,” he frowned, fingering through the bills in his wallet.

Nya watched him anxiously. “Not too far. We can walk, if that’s better.”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you-” “I told you, it’s fine!” Nya jerked her gaze away sharply. “Excuse me for trying to be considerate, then.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. It’s too cold to walk.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to be caring or not.”

Kai growled. “Me neither.”

Lloyd squirmed by their feet, and Nya sighed. “Can we not do this, now?” She pointed down the street, to where the bus was rolling up. “The bus is here, anyway.”

Kai told the bus driver where they wanted to go, slipping him the proper payment, and the three of them piled on, taking a spot near the back, even though the bus was mostly empty. Kai knew, from his previous trips, that it would get more crowded the closer they got to town, and sitting in the back meant not many people would be looking at them.

Lloyd stared out the window for most of the ride, his wide eyes taking in the landscape rolling past. Kai watched too, and as the bus drove them deeper into the city, he saw the shining buildings, with trees and patches of greenery dispersed in between them. With winter arriving, most of the trees were skeletal, but some still had a spattering of leaves, coming in bright golds, soft reds, and blazing oranges. It wasn’t something Kai got to see often in his lifetime, in person, at least. The changing of the fall leaves was a very finicky and brief time of the year in Ninjago City, and he had been lucky if one of his outside visits fell during this time.

Deeper into the city, the buildings thickened, rows of homes filing in orderly lines. Blues, olives, tans, grays, whites- each one had its own unique charm, but they all felt like they belonged.

One house in particular caught his eye, though- one that stood out from all the rest. Its walls were a bright red, and the lawn was wildly overgrown. Too many chairs were crammed onto the small porch, paint chipping on the door. It was an eyesore compared to the rest of the neighborhood.

Being too unique was problematic, he supposed.

By now, they were getting into the thick of the city. Beautiful buildings soared above them, colorful graffiti decorated walls and bridges. Most noticeable of all, however, were the people. A father with his daughter sitting on his shoulders, an elderly couple each holding a hand of their grandson as they swung him between them. A young couple walking down the street, chatting, with their hands casually intertwined, a group of teenage boys, laughing and racing each other down the street on their skateboards.

Everyone had one thing in common- they looked happy, content, at peace.

Kai hoped they appreciated what they had.

For the first time since they had boarded the bus, he glanced over at Nya. She was staring out the window too, but her gaze wasn’t directed at the scenery beyond, like his, but instead at Lloyd’s reflection in the glass.

The bus screeched to a halt, arriving at their stop, and the three of them hopped out, thanking the driver.

Walking down the street, they found themselves in a charming little section of town, the shops modest but plentiful. Nya was right, there was plenty of activity to help hide them. All the footsteps and voices around him swamped Kai’s ears, and he shook his head, trying to press them flatter against his head. This was only a milder section of the city, he was going to have to get used to all the sounds of the urban environment if they were going to adapt to this place.

Kai wondered how Lloyd would be affected by the environment- the young boy had proven himself to have a strong sense of hearing as well, and had never been a fan of being swarmed.

But either Lloyd’s hat was muffling his senses, or he was simply too enamored by the shops to care. With every shop they went in- from t-shirts, to souvenirs, antiques, jewelry, fabrics, and a bakery, Lloyd always seemed to find some little shiny trinket or another. They couldn’t buy him much, but Lloyd seemed perfectly content with just looking, already moving onto the next object of interest within a minute or two, anyway.

They did actually make a purchase at the confectionary, though, letting Lloyd pick out a piece of candy. He had gone with a rainbow lollipop, a purchase Kai was pleased with, because it would actually last him a while, giving him and Nya time to pick up a few more essentials before heading back to the warehouse.

Emphasis on few.

“We don’t really need the new jacket, I know we have a needle and thread I can use to patch it up on my own.”

“Yeah, well what about all those protein bars, do you really need all those?” Kai asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“They’re a good source of nutrients!” “Yeah, and they’re expensive. There’s gotta be a generic brand one you can get for cheaper.”

“These are the only ones I can get Lloyd to eat.”

“Well, he’s going to have to learn to adapt to our budget-”

“Buy them with this!” Lloyd purred, slipping a stack of bills into his hand.

Kai and Nya froze, slowly turning to look at him.

“Lloyd,” he asked slowly, “where did you get this?”

“I found it.”

No duh, Kai bit back. “Found it where?”

“Someone left it. At the store.”

“Lloyd!” Nya cried, sounding close to hysterics. “You can’t just take people’s money! You can’t take any of people’s things without permission. That’s stealing!” “They left it there,” Lloyd grumbled, kicking his foot. “I thought they were done with it. They should be more careful with their things. I’m careful with my things.”

Kai snorted a laugh, and Nya stared at him incredulously. “You can’t seriously think this is funny? He stole!”

“Oh, come on, Nya, he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“It’s still a crime.”

“He’s four!” “Doesn’t mean you should encourage him.”

“I wasn’t. In case you’re forgetting, he was the one who took it, not me.”

“But you don’t care.”

“I never said that!” “I’m your sister, I can tell.”

“Alright, alright, so maybe I wouldn’t mind a little extra cash. So what? We need it. Probably more than whoever was foolish enough to lose this.” “Kai! I can’t believe you!” “What? It’s not like we even know where to take it! Lloyd,” he turned to the boy, his voice sharp. “Where did you find the money? Which store?”

Lloyd was looking significantly less cheerful now, his eyes wary as he took a step back from them. “I dunno. Can’t remember.”

“See?” Kai snapped at Nya. “We couldn’t return it if we wanted to!” “So you’re just going to pocket it?”

“Where else would you have me take it? Like I told you, we need it more than the rich, privileged people around here.” Blood was roaring in Kai’s ears now, his breath coming in heavy pants. Why was there so much noise buzzing in his ears? There were people, so many people, and all that noise, mixing with his frustration, was making his heart slam against his chest in a dizzying rage.

“Just because they have more than us doesn’t make it right.”

“It makes it understandable.”

“I can’t believe we’re back to this again!”

“Back to what?”

“You’re trying to change Lloyd’s behavior again! I told you it would escalate- in only a few days, you’ve gone from having him hide his goofball side, to make him think stealing is okay, just because we’re in a rough patch!”

“You think I want to do this? I know it’s wrong! But sometimes an opportunity presents itself, and you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“We can’t just throw our values and everything about ourselves out the window just because things are difficult right now, Kai.”

“We haven’t really been given much choice, have we? In another week or two, we’ll have gone completely bankrupt, then what are we gonna do, huh?”

Nya paused for a moment, her breath hitching. “We’ll… we’ll figure something out. But this isn’t the answer.”

“Oh yeah? Let me know when you find one.” Turning away from her, he slipped the cash into his pocket. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was starting to feel lightheaded, now. He needed to end this.

“Kai, please, the last thing we need is another charge on our backs.”

“Going back to the shop to return this- even if we knew which shop to go to- would only put more suspicion on our backs. If we keep it, no one will probably ever even notice it’s missing.”

“But they could have security footage-” Nya stopped dead, the color draining from her cheeks.

“What?”

“Where’s Lloyd?”

---

Lloyd was running.

Ducking and weaving between the people roaming the streets, he tried his best to avoid running into them, but once or twice, his hand brushed against them, and he flinched away, hating the way the unfamiliar touch felt on his skin.

There were too many people here. He hated this feeling, being crowded around on all sides, like he couldn’t breathe. He just wanted to get out of here.

That was pretty impossible, though, when he had no idea where he was.

He shouldn’t have run off. Kai and Nya were going to be furious.

But… he just hadn’t been able to take it anymore.

He had been so happy when he had first brought them the money. He had thought he was helping, and that now they would be able to get more stuff and stop looking so worried all the time. But it had only made them start fighting again. Their raised voices had rung loud in his ears, too loud, and their smoldering gazes had scared him. That hadn’t been Kai and Nya- the big siblings he knew and loved. That had been something different, something Lloyd didn’t like one bit.

He hated it, every time they fought- every time the ugly side of them came out. But this time had been so much worse, because this time it was his fault, it had been him who messed things up by taking something he wasn’t supposed to.

He had just wanted to make them proud.

But maybe they would be better off without him.

He just wanted things to be the way they used to be, back when no one had fought or yelled at each other, when everyone had been happy, hanging out in their fun little room, giving him badger rides and letting him pick whatever movie he wanted.

But that had also been the time when he had spent his nights locked up alone, when strange people in long coats and scary masks would poke and prod him, and he wanted nothing more but to see his family again, but Dr. Borg wouldn’t let him.

But that was the way things had always been, hadn’t they? There was no perfect world.

At least not for monsters, like Lloyd.

Lloyd stumbled, his head reeling. All these thoughts were a little too much to take in.

Glancing around, he spotted an alleyway leading off of the streets. The perfect opportunity to get away from all the noises and people and clear his head.

Nearly crying in relief, he slipped into the comfort of the darkness.

---

“He was just here!” “Oh no, he must’ve run off again! You know how upset he gets when we fight!”

“Shit,” Kai muttered, his bubbling anger quickly giving way to panic. “He must’ve gone to look for somewhere to hide.”

“Dammit, he could be anywhere by now,” Nya whimpered, pressing her fingers to her temples. “This is all our fault!”

His frustration with her dying, Kai put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him. He can’t have gotten far, I should be able to pick up his scent.”

Nya glanced around, surveying their surroundings. “Just try to be subtle about it. There are a lot of people here.”

It was harder to track Lloyd’s scent without getting down to the ground, and the many other crisscrossing scents in the area added to the complexity, but, luckily for them, Lloyd’s oni and dragon blood made for a distinctive tang that Kai was able to pick up on after only a minute, despite all the distractions.

They followed the trail for a few minutes, Nya hovering behind him anxiously as he went. After a while, Kai was starting to get worried he had somehow made a mistake, when they reached a busy market street.

Shaking his head, he pushed his way into the throng.

Immediately, he was overwhelmed with at least a dozen more scents, and he lost Lloyd’s for a moment. Desperately trying to pick it up again, Kai felt like he was floundering, all the scents and sounds making him stumble.

Nya grabbed his shoulder, steadying him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… fine, it’s just… there’s a lot of people here.” He put a hand on his head. “It’s a lot.”

“Can you still smell Lloyd?”

“I don’t know.”

Nya turned to a shopping bag she was holding, rummaging through it until she found what she was looking for and pulled it out. Popping the cap, she handed him the bottle of water. “Here. This might help.”

Downing a few sips of the cold, fresh, liquid, Kai felt his heart rate slow slightly, the fog in his brain dissipating a bit. “Thanks, Nya.”

Turning back to his surroundings, he searched for Lloyd’s scent again. This time, he caught it rather quickly, and the two of them hurried down the street a little ways, until it led to a dark alleyway.

Kai slowed his pace, his steps wary. “Lloyd? Are you here?”

There was silence, for a moment, then a soft whimper replied him. Kai froze. “Lloyd?”

Nya pushed in front of him, and Kai caught sight of his sister’s pupils dilating to her night vision.

“See anything?”

Nya didn’t respond, and Kai blinked rapidly, urging his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. When he could finally see better, he looked over at her. Nya was standing frozen, her face white, as she stared down the alley.

Kai followed her gaze, and promptly felt his stomach lurch.

Although he couldn’t see nearly as well as Nya in the dark setting, it was well enough to identify the figure curled up in the back of the alley as Lloyd, pale and quivering as he grimaced at his leg, stretched out at an ugly looking angle, all twisted and bloody.

“Lloyd!” Nya screamed, running towards him as Kai gagged, trying hard not to puke at the scene. He tried to shake action back into his limbs, beginning to follow Nya where she was crouched over at Lloyd’s side, crying softly-

Kai froze, scenting the air. The overwhelming reek of blood and pain filled his nose, and he was still left muddled from the chaos of the busy market a moment ago, but…

Over all of that, he swore he could smell something else, something that seemed important.

“Nya, do you… do you smell that?”

“What?” Nya choked, wiping at her eyes. “Kai, he’s… it’s bad, come help me!” Kai was about to abandon the mysterious scent, when all of a sudden, it clicked.

Cold dread trickled down his spine. “Nya, look out, it’s-”

His words were cut off as something slammed against him, sending him to the ground, winded. Nets were thrown over him, and he felt strong yanks on his arms and legs as sharp rope dug into his wrists and ankles.

Blinding panic crashed through him as the full implication of what was happening hit him. No, no no, he couldn’t get captured, he couldn’t be brought back there, Lloyd couldn’t be brought back there, they would-

Kai threw back his head and roared as loudly as he could, hoping that someone, anyone would hear and come save him-

Sharp metal clashed against his jaw, sending spikes of agony through him as something was wrestled around his head. He tried to cry out again, but realized that he couldn’t move his mouth anymore, the metal device jamming it shut.

He could hear Nya’s screams from somewhere behind him, which abruptly cut off as she met his same fate. Muzzles, he realized with horror, the image of Lloyd, chained in that little room on that day they had first escaped flashing through his head.

Borg had found them. And now they were going to pay.

#ninjago #NinjagoInhumanAuWeek #For the Romping and the Roaring #R&R #Part 2 #woooo cliffhangers hope ya like those #not that you have to wait long for the next part #but i thought i was being clever #XD #rosie writes #my fic

24 notes · View notes

captainsimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Titanic || H.S

Part Three || “Harry”

“I hear the states are quite bigger than just New York, dear...”

Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.

Mornings were as warm as freshly made bread and salted butter for Harry, inviting and comforting, with that perfect combination sitting on his tongue in absolute delight. He’d chow down happily as each morning customer ordered their regulars, his mother rushing from one side to the other as the orders came in. And once he swallowed his last piece, he rolled his sleeves up to pull yet another tray of bread that had been baking since the early morning hours.

The family bakery was located in a very crowded part of the city, where thousands walked by each day, good and bad, gossiping about anything and everything. And although Harry’s family bakery wasn’t the only one on the street, it was the one that received the most praise. With dough made with love and an end product that was easily pulled apart, Harry’s family bakery won first place in all good graces.

And with such precision in every bite and every cake decorated in such an exquisite manner that they were rated number one in The Times for attention to detail and amazing taste, the family bakery was ready to branch out. They had a plan to save as much money as they could - and although being loved by many and receiving great reviews - they had very little of that. Most of the money the family earned went to rent, new shoes, and ingredients. The plan involved the Styles Bakery becoming some sort of franchise, and since they had London’s attention, it was possible.

The Styles Bakery would extend through other parts of London, and ever since Harry’s grandparents moved to the states with his aunt and her children, America was added to the equation.

“Mum, could you get the bread out? My hands are full!” Harry called out, arms struggling to carry glass jars full of jelly. He carefully climbed the ladder on the wall and began stacking, looking over his shoulder to make sure his mother heard his request. She quickly came out from the back room, padding her hands against her apron, and proceeded to remove the bread. She placed it on the counter carefully, all the while watching her son as he balanced himself on the ladder.

“Quite busy, are we?” she asked, rushing over to hold the ladder under him. Harry placed the last of his jars on the shelves.

“We need to get this place ready for the photographer! We need those photos by tonight so I can bring them with me on the trip.”

“I know, honey. And thank you for doing this, but I don’t want you to fall and get hurt just because you were in a rush,” she said, helping Harry as he climbed down. “We have more than enough time.”

“Time?” Harry said with a tiny laugh, “Grandad said that if we don’t get these plans and photographs to the landlord in two weeks time, then we have to search outside of New York.”

She smiled at him, “I hear the states are quite bigger than just New York, dear.”

Harry rolled his eyes, retreated back to the stockroom, and grabbed even more full jars. But as he returned, he continued the conversation. “But it’s where all the business and people are!”

But still, his mother laughed. “People exist outside urban areas as well.”

Harry saw how his mother would continue to innocently twist his words for the better, and no matter how negative he seemed to speak, his mother always could sprinkle the positives inside. For a while longer, they stacked jars, rearranged chairs, and cleaned the windows while waiting for the photographer. Once he arrived, he set up and did the bakery justice. From just the angles alone, Harry could see that the photographs would come out perfectly. They paid him extra for such an expedited order, promised to pick them up early tomorrow morning, and closed up the bakery a little after two in the afternoon.

Harry quickly ventured out to the still-empty pubs around town, a small pack of cigarettes he usually kept hidden behind the sacks of flour in the stockroom now hidden in his coat pocket, and joined as many small poker games he could find. With such deserted pubs at this time of the day, the men were less rowdy and more sober. This way Harry could collect as much pocket change he could in time for his voyage. The time flew by as he hopped from one pub to another, but he was still determined to make some more cash. But as his eyelids began to droop and his mind narrowly missed the ‘full house’ he was holding, Harry won, wrapped it all up, and started home.

He wasn’t a heavy gambler but he was known to succeed in a few tournaments when his family desperately needed to make rent. With such a dangerous alternative, Harry and his sister hid the fact that they would apply for odd jobs outside of the general area they lived, bringing in money under their mother’s nose - anything to keep the family afloat.

But after a few hours in the comfort of his home, he ventured out into the world once again. He traveled around his known parts of the city, a few blocks here and there, most alleyways, and greeted many people. Once his feet began feeling sore and the tips of his shoes stubbed his toes, he went into a pub for a quick drink. He enjoyed its taste, sort of salty and sweet at the same time. He ordered the same and decided to focus on his surroundings during each sip, watching every bartender and every customer walk to and from the bar. All he could think about while looking at everyone’s joyful faces was that tomorrow he would be waiting at the docks and boarding the grandest ship in the world. Perhaps he’d be lucky enough to taste the alcohol they were transporting and serving, but it was a long-shot thought. The third class most likely was not going to offer up the finest things, but it sure beat the streets of rat-infested London. But as Harry recalled his schooling and the little travelers who brought the plague, he settled for calling Titanic’s possible rats more upper-class than the ones below the bar he was currently lounging in. The simple third class ticket hidden safely away in his bedside drawer was a somewhat important telling, like it was something that represented a rise in Harry’s world.

He ordered his third drink, this time carefully watching a young couple across the room who shared the drink they just ordered. They laughed along with the piano player, hands intertwined, simultaneously tapping their thighs to the beat in unison. Such synchronization was therapeutic and Harry wondered how they met - if they knew they were right for each other, if they ever fought, how many children they had, or whether they were truly happy as their movements portrayed. All these unanswered questions did not need to have an answer for Harry to accept the wonder.

The sound of Harry’s sliding barstool startled the sleeping man next to him. Harry paid the bartender, gave the sleeping man a double pat on the shoulder, and left. He was only a few blocks away from home, but he decided to walk slower than usual. Tomorrow’s plan formulated itself and Harry didn’t have to think twice about it - he would wake up early, dress casual but clean, make sure his boots had their laces, and double-check his packing. And the one-way ticket would burn a hole in his pocket as he boarded, waving goodbye to his mother and sister who weren’t granted tickets themselves. They would wave sadly, tearing up slightly but just enough for Harry to see, and would come back home to run the bakery themselves for a few months.

It was worth the distance once Harry landed in America, for their entire lives would change. In America, Harry would buy that spot of land they had all been saving for over the last fifteen years. He would clean, build, anything he had to do as long as that spot of land showcased the first of a long chain of Styles Bakery’s. A bakery where Americans of all races, all religions, all everything and anything would get to savor the sweet taste of a busy London street.

Once he got home he wrapped himself up with three heavy blankets, drank a cup of tea, and rested his eyes for a moment. He was already giddy with joy, restless as to what awaited him tomorrow. The chance to step on American soil and the Titanic - all within a week - barely allowed Harry a wink of deep sleep.

The American dream wasn’t really what Harry strived for or wished to achieve, but he definitely thought it probable. He had the money, he had the determination, he had the contacts. But it was quite unsettling to think about the negative consequences of such a drastic move and not knowing if everything was going to fall into place.

Harry’s eyes began to feel heavier and heavier as his mind kept racing, but he knew one thing for sure. Whether his family’s dream was to be recognized and accomplished, it was luck and luck alone that would ultimately determine his new American fate. Harry breathed a heavy sigh and ducked his chin deeper into the blankets, neck slightly tilted and arms hugging his upper torso.

47 notes · View notes

malfoyfarms · 5 years ago

Text

Room for One More

“Hey hi! I love your work! I was wondering if you could do a JJ or John B x Reader. Where everyone ends up falling asleep on the boat after a party or something and the reader has night terrors so they comfort her? (I totally get if this is too difficult. I just need fluff. 💖) xx” -nonnie

“Could you write something about planning to run away with jj?” -nonnie

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 1.0k

T/W: Nightmares, soft JJ

A/N: hi i changed it a little bit, but i hope u still like it.

Today hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary for any of the Pogues. Kiara was working at The Wreck, JJ and Pope delivering groceries, John B being handy at the Cameron residence, and Y/n continued to sell beverages off the cart to all the rich old golfers. The group of teens then ended their day by meeting at the Chateau to discuss some type of adventure going on in a few days.

Y/n had been the first to retreat from the group which was odd, but not surprised as she appeared to the house with a tired body. The girl always seemed to have bountiful energy, even after working 10 hour shifts in the hot sun, but apparently not today. Her trusty blonde followed right behind her as she trekked on her way home.

“Y/n/n, where are you going? This is your house?” JJ asked, confused as to why the girl kept walking. She silently shook her head, too exhausted to speak. This was her fourth 10 hour shift in a row, not to mention working a couple janitorial shifts after hours at the country club.

She reached her arm back to take his hand as she entered the woods, bobbing and weaving until she reached an old tree. JJ stood in amazement as she scaled the tree with ease, unlocking the small lock with the key around her neck, and finally entering a treehouse.

“Well are you coming?” She questioned with a smirk on her face. JJ was quick to follow her, taking in her little safety space. There was what looked like it used to be a couch cushion, a pillow and a few blankets, being used to make a bed. To the right was a small book shelf with a couple books, one picture frame and a cash box. “My parents started to steal my tips from work, so I started to hide them. Plus my sisters were driving me crazy, so I ended up here.”

“Wait like you live here?”

“No silly goose, I just take vacations from paradise,” she chuckled. She pulled the blonde to lay next to her on the make-shift bed, using his body as a heater and source of relief.

Not many hours later JJ was awakened by Y/n’s quick jet from sleep. She shot up with panicked breathing and sweat beaded around her face. Her clammy hand reached out to feel if the boy was still there, and the moment she felt his hands snake around her waist, she relaxed but didn’t let up the shakes. The jolts running through her body were like clockwork, just when one started at her hands, one ended at her toes.

JJ pulled her back down to lay flat next to him, connecting their hands in the space between them. He pulsated squeezes to her hands, trying to overcome her tremors. She eventually rolled over, causing JJ’s arm to wrap around hers while neatly placing her head on his shoulder.

“Nightmare?” He asked softly. Y/n’s eyes moved to look up at him.

“No, it’s more the lack of one. It’s a constant recurring dream of life being exceptionally ordinary.” The conversation about her dream seemed to light a fire within her. Y/n sat up with force, pulling JJ with her. “Once we graduate, we just work for a living. Same jobs in and out. Maybe start a family, which in turn is just more mouths to feed. I’ll probably live with my parents until they kick it, what’s the fun in that? I have a go bag prepped. For the day it becomes too much ya know? Hopefully I’ll have enough money saved to get me somewhere, but even if I don’t it’ll be the thrill of not knowing where my next meal or sleep will be.”

“You’d really wanna run away from all this? What happened to pogues for life?” She could feel the tension in his voice. The two kids had been friends for ages and he was a little upset about just now hearing it for the first time.

“Well think about it Jayj, John B and Sarah will probably get married and move a little more towards Figure 8. They won’t go full kook, but enough to live comfortably. Pope and Ki? Hell, who knows what those two will accomplish,” she chuckled softly. “As for me? I’m not going to college, who knows if I’ll finish high school for crying out loud. Maybe I’ll get my EMT certification, but you know me. I can’t sit and be an EMT for the next 30 years of my life. It’s a vicious cycle. ”

JJ pulled the rambling girl towards him, placing a kiss on the corner of her eye. He watched her eyes flicker and hands move in excitement as she talked about all the crazy things she could do if she ran away.

“I don’t think I’d leave forever though, maybe just take a break and do some soul searching? I would feel guilty if I left forever. Missing my siblings grow up, missing you out the roof.” Y/n leaned back, finally done with her rambling, almost feeling sad knowing that she was to go back to work again here in just a few short hours.

“Hold up, you think I’m letting you go on by yourself? Oh hell no. I hope you have room for one more because I’m coming with you.”

Her smile grew astronomically when she heard him say that.

“You’d really come with me?”

“We could go to Charleston, or maybe Georgia. Hell I’d follow you up to Boston if you wanted.”

She smiled at him. Her legs and arms wrapped around his torso, clinging to JJ. He slowly moved himself back to lying down.

The thought of the two of them running away, starting a new life, or just possibly taking a quick adventure seemed risky but thrilling. JJ had always known Y/n as an antsy girl, but he never imagined she’d be itching to get out. He was hopelessly in love with her, and if that meant hopping on a ferry off the island, then so be it. As Y/n slept on his chest, JJ started to romanticize the thought of a new adventure. Just him and his girl, taking on a new place, together. The thought left smiles on his face as he fell asleep shortly after.

#outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #john b routledge #john b imagine #john b x reader #jj x reader #pope heyward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #pogue life #hms pogue #rafe cameron

317 notes · View notes

waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years ago

Text

Fortune’s Rule, Part 3

Ok, I thought this was going to be a 3-parter but, once again... it got away from me. So this is the third part and I’m almost entirely sure it’s the second last part.

Part One Part Two

Pairing: Damian Priest x OFC

Word Count: 3,902

Content advisory: The smut has arrived!

Indeed, for the rest of the night, you’re lost in your thoughts. ‘Damian’ you repeat in your head, thinking of how well the name seems to suit him but not knowing why. Damian with his long dark hair and tattoos, and that knowing, sinful smile. You haven’t been attracted to anyone since Johnnie and even that had more or less fizzled out by… you try not to think about it but the images come to you anyway.

It’s the same sort of thing that you dream about, the sensation of being back in the woods, cold and desperate, clinging to the bag of money that still sustains you, shivering at the thought that your boyfriend and best friend might be dying in the water or that they might survive and know that you abandoned them. It’s like you can almost hear them dragging themselves towards you, broken steps from broken bodies.

“Excuse me?” a sharp voice snaps you back to reality.

“Yes,” you stammer, “I’m sorry.”

“Two PBR,” the young man says, his voice making it clear that he’s repeating this.

You nod and turn around to get the chilled bottles out of the fridge but when you stand again, your body freezes and one of the bottles slips right out of your hand and shatters on the floor. For a second, you see Cynthia in the alley across the street, next to Damian’s store, slowly advancing from the shadows in the same terrible state she is in your dreams.

But then a man emerges from the alley, adjusting his belt to make it clear what he was just doing. He sports a vest covered with badges and short, crimson hair but he is nothing like Cynthia. He jogs to catch up with a small group of punks and they all take off together, which leaves you in shock, standing in a rapidly expanding puddle of beer laced with broken glass.

You sheepishly take a third beer from the fridge and hand them to the customer, not even bothering to count the money he drops on the bar before grabbing a couple of towels to soak up the mess. It takes that plus an entire roll of paper towels and a thorough mopping to clean up the mess and even then, you’re not certain you got all of it. The scent of cheap beer is in your nostrils for the rest of the night.

Of course, this would be the night that you have customers lingering until nearly two, stretching out the time before you can take Damian up on his offer. But the sign in his shop stays lit, like a beacon letting you know you can find your way there no matter how late you come. So you let the customers stay and serve them as long as they ask. And when they’re gone you make yourself go through the closing rituals to the last detail.

When you go to shut down the lights, you feel yourself shiver a little and you could swear that you see a shadow moving somewhere in the back but you turn and rush out of the place, locking the doors and closing the security gate before rushing to find out what your dark stranger has to tell you.

You’re frightened by the screech of tires, a car Plotinus down the road well above the speed limit, loaded with kids blasting some sort of trap beats and hollering at you for interrupting their ride. You could swear that you looked down the street when you started to cross and saw nothing. Shaken, you instinctively grip your bag to your side and scurry the rest of the way to the shop door, ringing the bell as a handwritten sign instructs.

There’s a loud buzz and you push open the door, much heavier than it looks, to find yourself in a dimly lit cavern of strange and slightly ominous artefacts, jars of leaves and roots, rough crystals and many, many books in a wide range of languages you’ve never seen before.

“So you decided to come,” the familiar voice greets you from behind the cash. He’s bent over, arms folded on the counter, sharp eyes fixed on you with that same, inscrutable smile that seems his natural state.

“I guess I was curious.”

You shuffle forward slowly, surprised that even stooped the way he is, he’s still taller than you. It’s like he’s a human projected on a screen, huge and frightening.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” he soothes. “Or what I have to offer.”

Your first instinct is to insist that you’re not scared but you know damn well it’s obvious you are. You give him a weak smile.

“I don’t know if I believe in any of this,” you mumble.

“It doesn’t need you to believe in it.” He rises and pulls aside a sheer curtain that leads to a back room glowing with crimson light. “Follow me.”

A street-smart person, the sort of person you’d like to think you are, would tell him to go fuck himself and head for the door. Who knows what he’s got waiting back there? Certainly not you, who couldn’t put up a fight against him under any circumstances, with every dollar to your name slung over your shoulder. He could skin you alive and it’s doubtful no one would ever hear your screams.

Damian raises his eyebrow a little and steps back to allow you to pass. And you do, entering the room so that your back is to him, so that you wouldn’t even see an attack coming.

He circles around you, eyes fixed on your body the entire time. You grip the strap of your bag involuntarily. If he’s a charlatan peddling hoodoo, there’s no reason to think he would have a problem with direct theft.

“I’m not going to steal your money,” he tells you. “I told you, this is on the house.”

He takes a seat at a round table at the center of the room and motions for you to take the chair opposite him. You follow his direction as he picks up a deck of cards, running them thoughtfully through his large but surprisingly graceful hands.

“Take these,” he says, placing the cards in front of you. “I want you to shuffle them and when you’re done, I want you to cut them into three piles from right to left.”

The cards are awkward in your hands, larger than a playing deck, and you feel clumsy as you move them around, trying desperately not to drop any.

“How long do I shuffle them for?”

“Until it feels like you should stop.”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes at this but you keep shuffling, pleased as you get the hang of it and then, suddenly, your mind just tells you to stop. It’s like you hear a literal voice and your hands stop moving without you even having to think about it. You lay the deck out in thirds and he nods to show you that you’re doing it right before picking them up.

He pauses, running his palm over the cards before laying them out in an odd pattern. He stops and starts several times, reacting like he’s reading a book, except that the book is you and you can’t tell if he likes what he sees.

“So I was right about the accident,” he says quietly, his eyes still studying the strange images in front of him. “That’s a bad injury you’re carrying.”

“It hurts sometimes. It’s not so bad.”

He shakes his head and locks his eyes on yours. “You don’t believe that.”

He runs his fingers over one particular triad of cards, nodding as he does.

“But you did get some money from it.”

“Insurance,” you croak.

He shakes his head more emphatically. “No, you’re not telling the truth. This didn’t come from any legal means. You did something bad to get it. Maybe that’s why that bag always feels so heavy.”

“It feels heavy because I have everything that’s mine in it.”

“You live alone like a hermit. You work at a job that pays you under the table, I think. You’re cut off from everyone and everything. And what you have you carry with you everywhere.”

“I told you that last part. And the rest is stuff you could have guessed just from watching me.”

“You think I’ve been watching you?”

You stiffen because the truth is that you’ve been watching him, wondering about him, wanting to speak to him with something like the casual confidence he has speaking to you.

“Well I have,” he adds with a quick wink.

You feel your whole body flush and look down to hide the excitement that you know is in your eyes.

“When I say you’re carrying everything with you, I’m not just talking about a bag of money.”

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me now? Or question me?”

“Psychoanalysis never gets a person as far as I can get. And I don’t have to question you because everything is right here.” He waves his hand over the table. “I just have to put the pieces together. I told you, it’s a gift.”

You purse your lips and he looks down at the cards again. Occasionally, he’ll draw a new one and place it over top of others.

“If you’re going to get where you need to go, you have to let go of all this.” He looks at your tense face and clarifies, “And, no, I don’t mean your money. The money doesn’t really mean anything.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never been without it.”

“Fair enough. I’ve always been able to get what I need. But you can’t. No matter how careful you are with that bag of loot, you’re not going anywhere until you confront what’s really weighing you down.”

This time, you do roll your eyes because it’s starting to sound like he’s recruiting you to a cult.

“Those nightmares are going to continue and they’re going to get worse, you know.”

For the first time, you sit bolt upright and let out a little gasp.

“The cards aren’t telling me what it is, not yet. Which means it’s pretty dark.”

“So how do I deal with it.”

Damian reaches across the table and takes one of your hands in his, turning it upward so that he can see your palm. You assume he’s reading it but instead he strokes along your fingers and between them, his touch like a moth’s wings. He hisses as he feels you tremble at the stimulation. It’s like he’s opening something up in you, delicately brushing aside the stitches that hold you together. He works his fingers up from your hand, over your wrist, never exerting any greater pressure, exhaling in a long, soft sigh as he trails his fingertips up the inside of your arm, coming to rest in the hollow of your elbow. Lifting his hand away, he stares deep into you, and it’s like he’s pushing and pulling the breath into and out of you with his own, at the same languid pace.

Placing your arm back on the table, he cuts a glance to the side of the room. Following his gaze, you’re surprised to see a couple of sinks with chairs in front of them, hairdressers’ stations.

He smiles when he sees your confusion. “The place was a hair salon before I bought it.”

“And you decided to leave those here in case the fortune telling business got slow?”

“Maybe,” he laughs. “Actually, I like them. They help.”

“They help you see the future?”

He turns back to you, his expression dead serious. “They help me help others.”

He stands and takes both your hands, guiding you back to your feet.

“In order for people to overcome their obstacles, they need to cleanse themselves and release what’s inside them, or else they’ll never be able to understand what it is.”

“Is that what you think I need?”

He steps close to you so that you can smell his skin, musky with layers of herbs like the ones he sells, wicked, magical scents that make your skin prickle. He doesn’t speak, but touches your head, running his fingers through your head and over your scalp, pressing slightly on certain points as he strokes all the way down to the base of your neck. He repeats the action and as he does, you swear you can feel the circulation increasing. Your forehead throbs but it’s not like before; it’s like there’s something leaking out of you.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Let it out.”

Your head falls back but he cradles it there, his free hand continuing to trace patterns on your skin. At first, it’s like he’s putting you to sleep but then it starts to feel like he’s waking you up, that you’re becoming more alert than you have been in a long time. The scent of him seems to thicken and grow earthier, greener, wetter, but you realize it’s not him at all. It’s the forest and the river and once again you’re cold and alone. Tears leak from your eyes. All you want is the power to say that one word: Help.

And then you’re back in the red-lit room. Damian is standing flush against you, cupping your face in his hands and regarding you with a knowing expression.

“Come,” he whispers and leads you to one of the hairdressers’ stations.

He eases your aching body into one of the chairs and adjusts it so that you’re reclined with your head tipped back into the sink. You feel the water on your skin but it’s the strangest sensation, like it’s the exact same temperature, so perfect and comfortable you feel like you could enjoy it forever.

Damian runs his hands gently through your hair, separating it and working through the tangles with the precision of a surgeon. He moves your head from side to side, manipulating the knots in your neck and smoothing everything up and out into the water.

Then you feel something thick and balmy, something that smells like rosemary and lavender and sage, things you remember from your grandmother’s garden, lifetimes ago. He works the substance through your hair, into your scalp, the pressure of his touch slightly heavier now, like he’s coaxing something to the surface.

He rinses you clean and presses your hair into a towel and finally you open your eyes, only to have him run his hand over your face.

“No, just relax. Let yourself enjoy it.”

In your whole life, you’ve never had a man wash your hair before. But no man has ever made you feel the things you’re feeling now before. So you close your eyes again as he moves away.

For a few seconds, you don’t know where he’s gone, but then you feel his hands on your thighs, just above your knees, the heat from them radiating upward. You immediately tense but he presses his hands down a little more firmly.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “Let me help you”

His hands slide up, lifting your shirt so that your stomach is exposed. You flinch again and then you feel his breath against your abdomen, the light touch of his lips trailing over the skin while he wraps his hands around the small of your back and lifts a little. With his tongue, he draws a line from just below your breastbone all the way down to the low-slung waist of your denim shorts, pausing slightly to press a soft kiss on the edge of your navel that makes you shiver.

He unbuttons your shorts, kissing the hollow between your hips and flicking his tongue over it. You glance down and his eyes are fixed on yours. He stops moving.

“Put your head back. Let yourself go.”

You want to tell him that you’d like to be an active part of what’s happening but the look in his eyes makes you think that he has something in mind and you want to know what it is. So you let your head rest and close your eyes, focusing only on the feeling of the man between your legs.

He slides your shorts and panties down in one smooth movement and runs his palms up your thighs. Then he leans in again, his breath hot against your pussy, and even that has you releasing a few needy sounds and lifting your hips, trying to get him to dive in.

Instead, he lowers his head a little and kisses all along the folds of flesh, exploring them with his lips and tongue, humming in satisfaction when he feels your body react, or when another sound escapes you. He presses his tongue at the very back of your opening and slowly draws it along, all the way up to your swollen clit, which he captures between his lips and sucks gently for a second before releasing it again.

It’s like the rest of your body isn’t even there and that the only part of you that’s real is your starving core. Every sensation you can feel is coming from his attention and the rest of you is floating in some sort of suspended animation. He rests his hands on your hips, pressing his thumbs into the depressions next to the bone and even that seems to build your excitement. Then he starts to push his tongue inside you, pressing against every nerve at your entrance firmly and with unerring precision.

As he does this, you feel like part of you has escaped. It’s like you’re standing over your own body, looking down at the still figure of a woman, throat flushed, gasping for air, crying out feebly for something.

Damian flattens his tongue and works it around your clit again, soft strokes at first, then swirling it in tight circles and then flicking the engorged bead enough to make you feel like you’re about to explode before he returns hungrily to your dripping folds, massaging the fleshy mound just above your clit with those long fingers.

He rocks back and forth, shifting between your pulsing labia and clit until your whole body is trembling, something you seem able to see from your vantage point hovering overhead. You’re clutching at the arms of the chair, at the edge of the sink, at anything. Your cries are getting shorter and sharper as the tension increases.

This time, he doesn’t shift positions. He works on you determinedly until your orgasm erupts and as it does, it’s like the whole of your body opens and some sort of energy flows out, something hot and light and wonderful that continues for ages. And it’s not like you haven’t had lots of orgasms but this is something completely different. It’s like your body has melted against this man’s mouth, like the orgasm isn’t going to stop although, finally, it subsides and your body closes itself up again.

You’re so weak you can’t even move. When he appears next to you, offering a bottle of water, he has to help you sit up before he tilts the bottle so that you can drink from it.

“Take it easy,” he murmurs, wrapping one massive arm around your shoulders to keep you steady. “You’ll be ok in a couple of minutes.”

Your head hurts but it’s a different pain, softer and more diffused, like something you could forget once you had something else to focus on. Damian, meanwhile, has pulled up a chair and is watching you, arms resting on his knees. And still there’s that coy smile.

“I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting…” you stutter. “Thank you?”

His smile broadens and he runs his hand lightly down the side of your neck. “I told you, you need to relax a bit so that whatever you’ve got inside there can escape.”

You shudder. “I’m not sure I want it escaping.”

“I’ll tell you again: it’s the only way you can deal with it.”

“Does that mean you want me to tell you all my dark secrets?”

“Maybe I know them already.”

You straighten up, a little of your wits returning to you. “I don’t know if you’re that good at reading minds.”

He stands and helps you up, resting his hands on your shoulders. As you get back on your feet, you notice an impressive erection in his pants. You step so that you’re pressed against him and run your hands up his chest, sighing in appreciation when he cups your head in his hands, gently removing the towel and allowing his fingers to weave themselves in your still damp hair.

You mirror the gesture, gripping his dark locks and pulling him down into a kiss. You have to stand on your toes even with him lowering his head, but he steadies you with a hand on your back and gladly returns the kiss, grunting a little when you grind your hips against the bulge in his pants. The intensity builds so that it almost feels like he’s fucking you with his tongue again, like he could make you come like this if he really wanted to, even though it’s physically impossible.

Finally, you pull away, dizzy again, and grip the waistband of his jeans.

“Why don’t I help you with that?” You pant.

He shakes his head and it seems so contradictory to what just happened that it takes you a moment to register that he’s saying no. You dive in for another kiss, which he enthusiastically returns, making you bold enough to rub your hand insistently over his bulge.

He pulls back, shaking his head once again and lifting your hands off him.

“I don’t do that on a first date,” he tells you.

“Are you serious?” He can’t be. You can still taste your pussy on his breath.His hard-on is straining against his pants.

“Yeah I’m serious. I’ll do what I just did for you but for the other… It’s a rule I have.”

“Do you have a rule against me getting on my knees for you?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “actually I do.”

You roll your eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Some women would think that’s a pretty good arrangement.”

“Well this woman is wondering if she gets a second ‘date.’”

He grins. “You know where to find me sweetheart.”

“Does that mean you want to see me again?”

“I’d love to see you again. But you know that.”

The truth is that you feel like you don’t know anything about this man who seems to know everything about you. He walks you out to the front of the store and bids you goodbye letting his lips trail down your neck and along your collarbone, finishing with a soft, slow kiss to the hollow of your throat.

“Catch you later,” he whispers.

The door closes behind you and you make your way down the stairs, once again feeling unsteady. As you reach the sidewalk, the neon sign shuts off. Whatever business he’d planned on doing tonight ended with you. You linger a few moments, hoping that the door will open and he’ll either tell you to come back or walk down to meet you and take you somewhere that he can work more of his witchcraft on you.

Nothing happens. It stays dark and quiet.

#nxt imagine #nxt fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #damian priest fanfic #damian priest imagine #wayward wrestle writing #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine

24 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

For Better And Through Worse

Rodney Skinner (The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Romance

Summary: Y/N is a simple girl with big dreams. She works hard towards her goal of travelling the world, seeing all it has to offer. She’s also a devoted student, one with the hopes of one day fulfilling yet another dream of becoming a fashion designer and leaving the town her and her sister have been stuck working in. Her stars align and fate smiles down upon her one day when a rather mysterious man makes his way in the café she works at.

Requested by Anon. Hello there! I’m so terribly sorry to be posting your request so late, dear. I hope the fic makes the wait worth it. This is the first time I’ve been introduced to this character and this movie in its entirety and I absolutely loved it! Thank you so much for the request and for your patience. Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

“Close that book, Y/N! Your shift’s starting!“ My manager scares me half to death when his voice suddenly booms throughout the empty diner.

It’s close to one in the morning and I’m stuck with the shitty overnight shift tonight because my older sister wasn’t feeling well. I arrived early while my friend still hadn’t finished his shift and decided to kill time productively by studying behind the cash register. Even though my shift has started, there is no real reason for me to abandon my book considering how dead the place is. Dead, eerie and unsettling. It’s 24/7 diner in the middle of seemingly nowhere. Well, our town in general is a big ‘nowhere’. If you came here on vacation - no you didn’t. You probably got lost along the way to a different destination. If you live here - good luck, hope you get out soon.

A young, 5′2 girl with only a can of pepper spray to defend herself with left in a café working the shift from one to eight AM. That’s simply ludicrous! I can hardly believe my manager has the audacity to leave like this. Not even a ‘call if you need anything’ out of politeness. Nothing! He doesn’t like any of the workers here so I don’t take it personal but he’s EXTRA mean to me because my sister turned his offer of a date down. It’s a surprise he hasn’t fired the both of us yet. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know if he’d be doing damage or doing us a favor by firing us.

I wait for the jerk to leave before reopening my book and proceeding with my reading. I can’t contain the smile that automatically appears on my face whenever my mind wanders into the contents of the pages. Seeing the pictures of the fashion creations gives me hope that one day I’ll be standing in front of a mannequin that will be displaying a piece I’ve designed. A piece won’t be enough though. I want an entire clothing line. Several even! The fiery passion in me won’t be easily satisfied - I have a vivid goal in mind and I won’t rest until I have it in my hands, until I’m looking at my clothes in the windows of shops and in magazines.

I unintentionally stop reading let myself daydream - well, it’s more like dreaming with open eyes considering it’s one AM. My imagination is sometimes so real it scares me. It all feels like I can reach out and grab it, hold it close, live it for a little while. However, that ideal life is soon ended by the sound of the bell that hangs above the door of the café ringing. I come flying down from my daydreaming cloud with a startled jump. My heart is beating quickly for no real reason other than the fact that there’s a person here at this hour. Knowing the type of town this one is, they are either one of the local drunks or not local at all. An outsider. The ones that everyone assumes are criminals on the run.

I couldn’t blame them if they said that about this guy. Mysterious, shady, suspicious - all adjectives that describe him perfectly. His sudden presence makes me uneasy. Many outsiders who choose to stick around for a bit frequent this bar, therefore I know some of them. This one I have never seen before. He almost looks unreal - a walking doll. He’s got an abnormally pale, sheet white complexion, a top hat and sunglasses. Sunglasses?! At the dead of an already pitch black night. I’m surprised he hasn’t stumbled into something yet. Maybe he has, what do I know.

“Good evening. One beer please.“ He says, hopping onto a bar stool and resting his elbows on the counter top of the bar that some ways down from the cash register - the two counters are connected.

“Coming right up.“ That’s the usual response I give to customers but I’ve never said it so hesitantly. He’s not being creepy or anything, he’s not even doing the staring most customers do which while uncomfortable, I still have to tolerate. The only truly off-putting thing about him is his appearance and the fact that he’s here at this hour. Drinking beer.

I keep my gaze on him out of the corner of my eye as I go fetch a cold beer bottle from the fridge behind the bar. I typically do waitressing, but I know my way around the bar as well. I see him reach for yesterday’s paper one of the previous customers has left there. He’s still distracted by it when I approach him and put a coaster down in front of him as well as the beer bottle, mumbling a quick: “Here you go.”

He lifts his head only enough to give me a nod with a small smile. From that proximity, the color of his skin looks more like paint, which is even more unsettling. He has also taken off his sunglasses, his eyes now free to make direct contact with mine which makes me pause for a second before asking the second routine question, “Anything else?”

“Uh, yes....“ His eyes go down to my nametag, “Y/N, could you tell me where this address is?“ He slides a piece of paper over closer to me.

I reluctantly nod and look at the note he’s handed me. The letters are written in poor handwriting but I can still decipher the majority of what’s written. “This address is from the next town over, sir.” I inform him with a tightlipped smile that’s my way of sort of apologizing for the inconvenience.

He nods slowly, “Well, how far is this town exactly?” He furrows his brows at me and takes out a pen, taking the note back so he could write something at the back of it.

“It’s a city compared to this one. It’s a two hour drive from here.“ I tilt my head to the side, discreetly looking at what he’s writing down.

“Thank you.“ He puts the note and pen away, “By the way, don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?“ He gives me puzzled look.

I scoff and shrug my shoulders, “Working, as you can see. I’m covering this shift for someone else, I don’t usually work it.” I respond nonchalantly.

“No, I mean what are you doing working here at all?“ He points at me,��“That dress, it’s self-made, right?“

Ok that’s off-putting. Either he is clairvoyant or it’s so obvious that an amateur has made it that he couldn’t help but notice and point it out. All I can give as an answer is a slight nod, a baffled expression on my face.

“That’s what I thought. It’s incredible.“ He probably realizes that he has caught me off-guard and has confused me, so he shakes his head with a small chuckle and a wave of his glove covered hand. “I saw the book you were reading on my way in. Fashion and design. So you’re an aspiring clothing designer?“

I feel relief wash over me as the confused furrow and pursed lips are replaced by a relaxed smile. I take the few steps back to where I was previously sitting and where I’ve left the book. I hand it to him once I return for him to see. “Yes, but the course here is expensive and I can’t afford it without this job.”

He nods slowly as his eyes carefully scans the pages he turns. “Impressive, so a goal-getter as well.”

I can’t help but giggle, “And a traveler at heart. I also need the money for that...” I open the book to it’s last page and show him the list I have written of places I’d like to visit.

His eyes widen a bit in amazement as they go down the neatly written list. “You know, I’ve visited some of these places. I plan on visiting the rest as well. I could use a partner.” He winks at me playfully.

I roll my eyes, “As I said, I can’t afford it. You think I’d still be in this town if I could?” I say rather bitterly. Feels like the subject is an open wound and talking about it is the same as pouring salt on it.

“Who says you’ll have to pay a penny. I said I’d like some company, you’ll be paying me with your presence.“ His gaze is firm on mine, his tone suggesting he isn’t kidding around. I unintentionally let my disbelief morph into a ‘bullshit’ expression of distrust that causes him to raise his hands up as if surrendering, “No funny business, though I know what this looks like to you. Trust me, I wouldn’t offer that to just anybody. I sense how strongly you wish to fulfill your dreams. I see it all in your eyes, there’s a flame behind them. And...I’m gonna be honest, I’ve done many less than honorable things in my life. But when I see a chance to do good, I want to take it. Now it’s on you, take it or leave it.“

I’m stunned and frozen. I can’t even answer him. I’m just standing here with my mouth hanging open and eyes wide, staring at him awaiting for him to burst out laughing at any moment like ‘Did you really believe that?!’ But he doesn’t. He remains serious and after what feels like forever smirks, putting a hundred bucks next to the untouched beer bottle.

“If you change your mind...I swing back the same time tomorrow.“

Before I can even shake free from my shock he has already left. I didn’t even get the chance to tell him I won’t be here the same time tomorrow. I feel my heart sink as my mind races, two sides of me battling - one that wants to take the chance that’s being offered to me and the other scolding me for even considering it.

Dumb or not I’m rooting for the first side.

Eyes don’t lie. Just like he read me so well just by looking at mine, I read him by looking at his. All he said was true, not a doubt in my mind about it. He meant all he said and for some odd reason I believe him despite him being a complete stranger. I don’t even know his name, for goodness’ sake! But I want to go with him. The hard part for me would be leaving my family behind though.

Well, I have a little less than twenty four hours and a seemingly never-ending uneventful shift ahead of me to ponder it.

* * *

I can’t believe any of this - not what I’ve done, not what I’m doing and most definitely not what I’m about to do.

I have packed my bags and snuck out of the house, running at full speed to the café. When I arrived I was breathless, with a heart beating faster than a galloping horse.

I’m now waiting for the man. The stranger. The person who could be anyone or anything - including dangerous - but right now all he is to me is my path to success, the person who’ll guide me to achieving my goals.

I’m about to go running away with this man, off to God knows where. No one guarantees he won’t do harm to me. I can’t be 100% certain this won’t end badly for me. All I can do is take this chance if I want to. And I really REALLY want to.

Just as the clock strikes 1:25 AM, an old car pulls up at the curb in front of the café. I’m standing in the shadows, away from any windows to avoid being spotted by the worker who’s on the dead shift as I call it. The way the car has parked it’s positioned directly underneath a street lamp, almost like it’s under a spotlight. The door to the drivers side opens to reveal the same man from last night. When he steps out in the lamp’s light he looks to be glowing, his unusually pale complexion shinning in the light.

“Y/N!“ I call out to him, startling him for once instead of the other way around.

He stops and looks around, taking the sunglasses off and narrowing his eyes at his surroundings. I chuckle to myself and step within the line of light, “My name’s Y/N. You already know that.” His eyes land on me and a smile spreads across his face as well as mine. “I don’t know yours though.”

He takes a step towards me, “Rodney. Rodney Skinner. Though, please don’t let that name throw you off. It was given to me for far less sadistic reasons than you may be imagining right now.”

I can’t help but laugh, “All I ask is for you to not skin me alive.”

He gives me a small bow, “I shall respect your request. Now...“ he straightens his posture and turns to motion to his car, “To freedom and adventure?”

I don’t know what takes over me and drives me to close the space between us, but it is also to blame for the fact that I pressed my lips against him. Even after realizing what I have done, I don’t pull away. I don’t see my doing as wrong - in fact, I feel like I’m doing all the right things for myself tonight. He responds to the kiss after a second or two of stunned hesitation.

The little kid in me can’t wait for this journey to commence anymore so I pull away abruptly, giving him a bright, wide smile and my eyes bright. I watch as he comes back to the present moment and nods, mumbling as if to himself a quick, “Right...” before circling around the car and opening the passenger side door.

I gladly take a seat and fasten the seatbelt while Rodney takes my suitcase and backpack and puts them in the trunk of the car. Here it is, I’m seconds away from the biggest step in my life so far. A dangerous and risky step for sure, but the sense of freedom I feel is worth it all. The joy and excitement I feel as the car starts moving is all I need to keep looking forward and keep my mind off my family’s reaction when they find my goodbye note.

“By the way, what’s at that address you showed me yesterday?“ I ask to keep myself distracted from the aforementioned thought which is stronger than I thought it would be.

“Ah, a friend of mine, Nemo. He holds the vehicle of our travels. Tell me...“ his hand nonchalantly rests on top of mine between the seats causing me to blush, “have you ever traveled by a submarine?“

I physically jolt at the absurdness of the question, “You’re not serious!” I turn to look at him, my free hand covering my mouth which is hung open in disbelief.

He laughs, taking the hand he’s holding and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to my knuckles which relaxes me. “I’m deadly serious, Y/N. Speaking of Nemo though, do you know of any good barbecue places in that town? He loves a good barbecue.”

I grimace, “No and I’d much rather never know or enter one.” He gives me a quick puzzled glance, careful not to take his eyes off the road for too long, “I’m a vegetarian.” I clarify with a snicker.

I see the realization be processed and show on his face, followed by a laugh when he says, “Oh Nemo’s gonna love ya.”

I don’t know if that was sarcasm or ironic. I just know one thing - I have so much ahead of me at the moment. Travelling, studying, meeting new people, seeing a submarine, for the love of God! And even a potential romantic relationship. The future has never looked so bright for me, and this is all thanks to this abnormal yet hypnotic man next to me.

Freedom and adventure, here we come!

26 notes · View notes