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winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years ago

Note

just a wittle request, could you do something where bucky comforts the reader who has mommy issues after she has a panic attack over the thought of turning out like her mother?

Hi there, sorry this took so long! I still haven’t processed my own so I had to take a few breaks. I apologize if this is off the path of what you meant, I’m going off of my own experience but I know it’s different for everyone.

You're nothing like her.

Bucky x reader

Word count: 3219

Warnings: mommy issues, toxic childhood, talk of divorce, panic attack/anxiety, negative self-talk

A/N: This takes place in a timeline where Bucky is retired

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

You did everything you could to avoid it. To avoid her

You left home as soon as you could. When you were in college you were surrounded by people who were homesick, people who wanted to go home, people who finally had to take care of themselves. Things you couldn’t relate to.

You had been supporting yourself most of your life. Not that you had much of a choice. Your dad left when you were younger, your mother blaming it on you. If you had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have left. You, being young, believed her. What else were you supposed to do, growing up in a world that preaches ‘mother knows best’?

Load of bullshit to you.

You knew better now, being an adult, that she didn’t know best. She worked or went out with friends and left you to raise yourself, telling you it was your fault when she neglected her responsibilities. And when you would get upset she would play the victim, crying ‘woe is me’ because you were so ungrateful to the person who raised you after you drove her husband out.

“You know it’s your fault right?” she had snapped at you one night at dinner. There was a graded paper, a B written on the top of it.

“What?”

“You’re the reason he left me. He just couldn’t stand you. You’re the reason why he left and why I’m so miserable now.”

You had felt tears in your eyes.

“Tears, really? Tears aren't going to change the fact that MY husband LEFT.”

Her husband, not your father.

No, you knew better now to know that what she had done and said was wrong. But that didn’t make you forget. It didn’t make it any easier for you.

You went to college, saved up as much as you could, and gave tight-lipped smiles when people asked why you didn’t go home on weekends or vacations. You tried not to talk about her much, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about her.

You had stood at your college graduation, caps thrown and loud laughs and cheers echoing around. There were a bunch of people celebrating around you, taking photos, but you had stood on the outskirts. You had a small smile on your face for everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel empty inside. You hadn’t made many friends, not close friends, but that was a good thing. You could take the photo so no one was left out.

Not so much of a text from her. She hadn’t come, she hadn’t called or anything.

In a twisted way, you were glad that she hadn’t. She couldn’t make a big deal about how you weren’t the top of your class or how you didn’t deserve to be. How you didn’t have a job set up to start the next week even though you already were planning on submitting your resumes. There wasn’t a way to please her, so it was almost better that she wasn’t there.

You had texted her after a few days and she made up some bullshit excuse that she had forgotten to put it on the calendar.

She liked your Instagram photo though. So thoughtful

You worried you would turn out the same way. Or that she had rubbed off on you in some way. You kept to yourself as much as you could, staying in, keeping your emotions to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust people, maybe it was, but more so you were worried that you would seem like you were playing the victim.

You didn’t want to bother anyone or make anyone feel obligated to listen to you. You worried that behind your back they would complain about you being emotional or making everything about you.

You worried they would talk about you the same way you thought about your mother.

People are supposed to look to their parents to teach them what to be, yet you found yourself wanting to avoid everything your parents did to you. They taught you exactly who you didn’t want to be.

Your father left. Your mother hated you.

You didn’t share your opinions because you didn’t want to be told you were wrong. You didn’t want to force your ideas onto anyone. Not like what you said would make a difference anyway, not that it mattered in the first place.

You remembered all of the sentences you would start but not finish because no one had heard you. Trying to jump in a few times and eventually giving up when the conversation had moved onto a new subject. All the times people would interrupt or interject, making you feel like you didn’t have something to say that was worth hearing.

You thought it would get better when you got a job. But the pressure you put on yourself to do well in school was transferred to the job you had gotten. You still were afraid that people saw yourself as your mom used to and that you would never be good enough for anyone. You thought that achievements would make you feel fulfilled.

But if you didn’t believe in yourself, what were a few “job well done's” supposed to do?

It made it hard to get into a relationship. People say that “you have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” but that didn’t feel so true to you. It was more that you didn’t trust yourself to love someone else. You worried about hurting whoever you were with, and you told yourself that if you didn’t get close to anyone, you couldn’t hurt them.

But then you ran into him.

He was on a morning run and you were walking home from a night shift, both too tired to see each other coming. You because you had just finished a shift, him because he was running off the nightmare he had had the night previous. Both of you craving a sleep that seemed just out of reach.

You were very apologetic, as was he, both afraid that you had hurt the other. You avoided his eyes even though they were trained anywhere but your own, as he fiddled with his gloved hands and you scratched the back of your neck.

It was the first time either of you had seen someone as unsure as yourselves

You had parted ways with only each other's names. Bucky and y/n.

The two of you crossed paths a few times in the following weeks, eventually getting each other’s phone numbers and agreeing to meet for coffee rather than hoping the other left at the right time. Eventually, the subtle nervous tics each of you had died down as you got to know each other.

For the most part.

You still overly apologized for everything. If you were a few minutes late, if you spaced out...you took the blame for everything.

Traffic had been bad, a storm and an accident causing you to be 5 minutes late rather than 15 minutes early. You had run into the coffee shop, scanning the restaurant with wide eyes when you saw Bucky sitting there casually.

“I am so so so sorry, I should’ve left earlier, there was an accident, I’m so sorry I’m late -”

“Y/n, don’t worry about it,” he had said, a smile on his face and a slight flash of concern on his face. “Seriously, it’s a couple of minutes. It’s literally fine.”

“No, I’m really sorry, I should’ve known or called or something.”

“Relax. It’s totally fine, I promise,” he had said, concern a little more present on his face. “Are you okay though?”

“What? Yeah, I’m good. How have you been with everything?

You wouldn’t let him talk about you. The same way your mother never let you talk about yourself.

Don’t think about her.

He had started opening up to you but you still kept your personal life under lock and key. Your name, how work was, and your physical well-being was about as personal as you got. Even so, if work had been a shit show or you had to pull an all-nighter would go unspoken. He didn’t need the burden of your personal issues. Not when there was nothing he could do about it.

The past was the past, you just had to learn how to get over yourself.

You couldn’t change what your mother had said over a decade ago.

You worried if you talked about yourself at all then you would be making the situation about you. You worried you would project your anger or sadness onto him. He didn’t deserve that. Plus, it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything, right?

You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get too close. That if he didn’t get close to you, you couldn’t hurt him.

But damn, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t start developing feelings for him. And from the way he had started acting, you thought maybe he was too.

The hugs that were ever so slightly too tight or when he smiled at you a little longer than normal. He had opened up to you about many things in his past, and from the way he talked about it, you could tell he hadn’t talked about it much with anyone else.

You found comfort in your friendship, the way he trusted you. You liked being there for him, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to open up to you. Yet it also made you uneasy that you would ruin it in some way or drive him out.

The same way your mom drove out your father.

Goddamn it don’t think about her.

The closer you got and the closer you and Bucky had gotten, the more nervous you were. That you would turn out like your mother. You were having a harder time keeping to yourself, keeping up the façade that everything was all bright in your world. You wanted to be a light for everyone.

But at some point, days turn to nights and the light gives way to the darkness.

And you weren’t sure how much time you had left before you cracked.

Bucky had started making small moves towards you, and you were trying your best to deflect them in efforts to not fall flat on your face for him. He came over Wednesday nights for a movie and take out with you, and what started as being on two opposite ends of the couch had moved to being next to each other to him having his arm wrapped around you. Sometimes you felt he was a little too close and you would either shift away or get up to grab another drink or ‘use the bathroom’.

When you came back you would make an attempt to sit a bit further away.

Sometimes when Bucky would say goodbye at the end of the night he would hug you. That was nothing new, you were both big on hugs, but lately, he had been hugging you longer or tighter, lingering a few moments longer than could be platonic. You had started ending the hugs earlier, giving him a small squeeze before pulling away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Bucky. It was that you were so scared that you would drive him away, leaving you as soon as you had started calling yourself his.

Which is what brought you here. Bucky had come over for another one of your movie nights and had his arm behind the couch rather than around you. An invitation for you to curl into his side, but he wanted you to make that choice. Eventually, you had found yourself curled up with him, his arm wrapped around you, and you could feel the tension.

You wanted to move away before you found yourself in too deep, but you couldn’t resist. It had been a long day and you found comfort with Bucky. Bucky turned his face slightly towards yours, kissing the side of your temple and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mind told you to shift away, to not let him get too close, but you found yourself turning your head towards Bucky and he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

After a moment you broke away, emotion taking over you. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I - I can’t do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“Why not?” Bucky whispered, looking into your eyes.

Because I’ll hurt you.

I’ll disappoint you.

I’ll drive you away and I can’t lose the best thing that’s happened to me.

You sighed, standing up and moving away from Bucky. You couldn’t say those things to him out loud. Not without the entire story. And you weren’t ready to share all of that with him.

Bucky stood up with you, afraid he had just ruined the friendship or whatever relationship he had with you. “Y/n, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You had already left the room and couldn’t really hear him over the sound of your thoughts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen

I wasn’t supposed to let this happen

How could I be so stupid?

You were feeling tears in your eyes and Bucky followed you, afraid of what he did. Your breathing was picking up and you had started mumbling some of these things to yourself.

“Y/n, what’s happening, what did I do?”

You shook your head “You didn’t do anything, but I need you to leave, please,” you said, trying to hide your emotions. You hated being like this.

“I’m not going anywhere y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Get the fuck out of here Bucky! I don’t want your help!” you snapped suddenly, Bucky looking taken aback before your eyes widened.

“Oh god…”

You shook your head and started crying harder, stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry Bucky please don’t leave I'm so sorry.”

Bucky came forward and hugged you gently and you cried into his shirt. He whispered comforting words into your ear as you tried to breathe, embarrassed at how vulnerable you were being.

Bucky kept his breathing slow and even, trying to get you to match him. He had no idea what was happening but he knew he needed you to calm down before he asked. Whatever it was had to be something deep, and you weren’t in the space to talk about it right now.

He brought you over to sit on the corner of your bed, still hugging you as you cried. You were mumbling out apology after apology but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He kept hugging you, telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that you were safe. He had never seen you so upset, or upset at all to begin with.

After you had calmed down a bit, Bucky asked you again what had happened. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I’ve opened up about so many things to you, right?” he pulled back to look at you.

You nodded slightly.

“And you’ve never judged me for any of it.”

You shook your head this time.

“Then why can’t you let me do the same for you?”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “Y/n, you’ve been the nicest person I’ve ever met. How would you hurt me?”

You were already shaking your head. “No, see, that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna be nice and sweet and...and I’m gonna fall in love with you, and you’re gonna fall in love with me. A-and then I’m gonna let you down over and over again and snap at you for things that aren’t your fault and...and you’ll get sick of it and leave and I’m going to hate myself for it, okay?”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Bucky held your shoulders as they started shaking. You brought a hand to cover your mouth, Bucky hushing you again. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

You took a shaky breath as you ran a hand over your face. “I’m just like her, Bucky. I told myself I would never let myself be like her…”

“Like who?” Bucky asked, blood already boiling at who made you feel like this.

Her.

You weren’t supposed to think about her.

You promised yourself.

“Y/n, stay with me here,” he said, guiding your face back to look at him. “Who?”

“My mother.”

Bucky looked at you for a moment. “What?”

“You know, mothers bring you into the world. They say a mother knows when something is wrong with their kid, that babies are put on their mother’s chest because the skin-to-skin contact starts the bonding process. They’re supposed to protect you, and love you, and take care of you. But then you start to get older and it’s your fault that you were born when you didn’t ask, or your dad left and it’s your fault before you even knew he was gone. All I wanted was to be told what to do and all she would do is tell me what I did wrong. I can’t be like her and the older I get the more scared I am that I’m going to hurt everyone the way that she hurt my father and me.”

You had started crying again as Bucky looked at you, both broken-hearted and furious that someone would make you feel this way. Not to mention it was your own mother.

You took another shaky breath. “I thought the world of her when I was younger. And she barely even gave me the time of day. I keep telling myself that I’m not what she thought of me, but what if I am?” you shook your head again. “And I am so scared that I’m just like her.”

“Y/n, look at me, I need you to look at me when I say this, okay?” he cupped your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he looked into your eyes. “You are nothing like your mother.”

You let out a small sob. “You don’t know her.”

“I don’t need to,” he said firmly. “You are kind and gentle. You work hard and you make sure that everyone is taken care of before you even consider yourself. You aren’t going to scare me away or hurt me.” He wiped fresh tears from your eyes. “You are your own person, your mother has no say in who you get to be. Who you are. You are not your mother, and you never will be.” he said, still holding your gaze.

You held his gaze a little longer, knowing he believed what he was saying. You didn’t, not quite yet, but maybe if he believed in you, you could too. You nodded slightly, giving him the smallest of smiles. “Thank you.”

Bucky returned the small smile. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too,” you said, smiling.

You meant it, and you knew he did too. And maybe one day, you would love who you’d become too.

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tags: @babydaddy-buckybarnes @buckys-blue-eyes @buckys2thicc @broadwaybabe18 @peggycarter-steverogers @im-sick-of-failing @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @mardema @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @thatfangirl42 @strawberrimae @sup--ernova

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sholiofic · 3 years ago

Note

My prompt for the fluffverse: Oeznik giving Sam and Bucky the shovel talk

See Tropical Fluff Verse tag for other installments. (There's no particular chronological order.)

---

It had been a constant, ever since they had been traveling with Zemo, that his butler showed up randomly wherever they went. Sam had never actually caught Zemo making contact with him, or figured out exactly what their method of communicating was; it could be something as normal as regular phone calls, or some completely bonkers Zemo thing, dead drops or burner phones or a private radio transmitter hidden in his teeth or messages written on tree bark in invisible ink, who knew.

In any case, they had arrived in the Colombia house to find the sheets turned down and fresh food in the refrigerator. There was a plausible non-Oeznik-related reason for this (a couple who lived nearby did regular caretaking on the place; they had already stopped in a couple of times to bring supplies and do light housekeeping). But nevertheless, Sam was deeply unsurprised when he came into the kitchen and found Oeznik restocking Zemo's liquor cabinet.

"Want a hand with that?" Sam asked as the elderly butler very slowly transferred one bottle at a time of assorted, probably very expensive cognac and Scotch from a padded crate to the cabinet.

"Very much appreciated," Oeznik said in his scratchy voice. He stepped back and then proceeded to give Sam specific directions about the placement of each individual bottle.

Bucky came in with a crate in each arm. "That's the last of it. Oh, hi, Sam."

"How much alcohol does one middle-aged terrorist need, exactly?" Sam asked. Those crates were bigger than this one.

Oeznik didn't appear put off by the phrasing. "The baron needs to be able to entertain. Those go to the wine cellar."

Bucky heaved a sigh and picked up the crates again.

"There's a wine cellar?" Sam said.

Oeznik pointed to the next bottle in the crate. "That one should be placed beside the fruit liqueurs. No, on the left."

Bucky was back a few minutes later, empty-handed. "Help you out here?"

"We're just finishing up," Sam said, arranging the last bottle to Oeznik's specifications and wondering how this was his life. "Where exactly is his baronial highness, anyway?"

"Napping in our—in his room, last I saw," Bucky said.

What he had started to say, Sam guessed, was "in our room," since they had all been sharing the master bedroom since the first few days they'd been here. It made Sam realize, with a slight drop in his stomach, that he had absolutely no idea how much Oeznik knew about the nature of their relationship, or how much it was safe for the guy to know, for that matter.

Keeping his voice light, Sam said, "God forbid he should lift a finger to help. So you gonna just drop in, leave some booze, and head out again?"

Oeznik shrugged slightly as he carefully, at glacial speed, piled all of the shredded paper padding back inside the crate. "Might I prevail on you to carry this out for me, Mr. Barnes?"

Sam trailed them out into the afternoon heat and humidity, and found that Oeznik had arrived in a vintage delivery truck, pastel blue, in perfectly pristine condition, that looked like it dated to approximately the 1940s. Only a light spray of mud above the wheels marred its gleaming perfection. Bucky put the crate in the back with other empty crates, giving the vehicle an admiring look as he did so.

"You're just gonna leave without talking to him," Sam said.

"There's no need to. Arrangements have been made." Oeznik patted his pockets. "Ah." He found his keys and then turned to the two of them. "Might I have a word, gentlemen, before I go?"

"Yeah?" Sam said. Bucky looked up from an admiring inspection of the gently curving fenders of the truck.

Oeznik cleared his throat, smoothing down his lapels with small fussy movements. "The baron has been through a great deal of upheaval, tragedy, and loss in the past decade."

"Some of it self-inflicted," Sam said.

Oeznik didn't acknowledge this. Instead he went on in his light, cracked voice. "He has come to care for both of you, perhaps more than you know."

Well, way to make him feel like an asshole. Bucky was quiet, his metal hand resting on the truck fender. Sam said carefully, "Does he, er—talk to you about us?"

"I am not unobservant," Oeznik said. "I simply wanted to be sure that you both understand the baron does not give his trust or his ... consideration lightly. And—" His voice darkened a shade. "I will not see him hurt."

There was a brief pause as the butler opened the driver's side door, and Sam traded a swift glance with Bucky, who was wearing a slight frown. Then Sam said, "We aren't going to."

"See that you don't. I would hate to clean up the resulting mess."

"The, er, what?"

The car door slammed. Oeznik raised a hand in a palsied wave, and turned the engine over.

"Hey—"

The vintage delivery truck pulled away, navigating the turns of the house's sweeping crushed-shell drive.

Sam looked at Bucky and said, "Was that a shovel talk?"

"I don't know what that is, but it sounded kind of threatening."

"How threatening, exactly? He's like ... ninety."

"I'm a hundred and seven, Sam."

"Shut it."

"Look, we both know he—"

"Yeah," Sam said shortly, because the Flag-Smashers' death was a can of worms they hadn't opened yet, and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to examine it closely.

"Yeah," Bucky said, his voice soft. "Anyway—"

"Ah, you're out here," said Zemo's voice from the shadowed doorway. They both turned. He was lounging in the entryway, wearing a loose bathrobe open nearly to the waist. His hair was tousled and sweat-dampened from sleep, and something in Sam's chest cracked a little.

Oeznik, I don't know if you'll believe me, but you've got nothing to worry about.

"Your butler was here," Bucky said.

"Yes, I know," Zemo said brightly. "There's fresh swordfish soaking in milk. It reduces the fishy taste, you know. Have you had it with mango?" His voice had the slight over-brightness when he was trying a little too hard to cover some emotion, which made Sam wonder what he was covering, exactly. But his eyes were soft, and the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth was genuine.

"You're so weird," Sam said, but he went from the sun-splashed courtyard into the shadowed foyer, with Bucky on his heels. Zemo put up no resistance when Sam put an arm around his loosely robed waist and kissed him, then passed him neatly to Bucky.

"So that's a yes on swordfish," Zemo said, a little breathlessly, when Bucky was done with him.

"That's a yes on swordfish," Sam said. "And I think we've got a wide selection of booze to go with it, so if you make the drinks, I'll fire up the grill."

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #helmut zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #oeznik #tropical fluff verse

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

The Bet. Rated ( 18 +)

Pairing : Taehyung x Jimin X Jungkook x Reader. ( Foursome ) But you can see that i favor Taehyung a whole lot here ;)

Warnings : Listen, this is a foursome...three hung guys fuck one girl if you’re gonna need warnings I’m gonna just say , unfollow me. :D

Just kidding : Everything is consensual and everyone has a good time . yes and thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re serious? All three of us ? At the same time?” Jungkook’s eyes are even bigger than usual which is really saying something. You squint into them, trying to fathom where that devilish sparkle comes from. it’s so fucking unfair. The dude has eyes like bambi and the twin orbs seem to carry every star in the fucking milkyway.

“Sure...” You slur, only a little drunk but still feeling it. Next to Jungkook his best buddies, Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin stand leaning against the kitchen counter , watching you like you’re the last meal they’ll ever have.

You blink a bit, trying to remember what you were talking about.

Oh, yeah.

The Bet.

“Sure, Jungkook-ah.... you guys win the match this friday and I’ll let you fuck me. All three of you. “

It’s actually pretty stupid, how amusing this whole thing is to you.

Don’t these idiots know who they’re playing this weekend? Astro are national level players.... They’ve played in matches in other countries for fuck sake. the likelihood of Bangtan winning the basketball match on friday is none to none.

“I’m gonna want that in writing, angel.” Kim Taehyung’s deep as fuck voice practically vibrates through your body, his sultry brown eyes heavy with lust as he stares you down .

You gaze at him, the beautiful features clearly crafted to perfection by some god looking to show off. You don’t see beauty like Kim Taehyung on the regular and it feels like a scam, that people get to look at his face for free. A privilege if there ever was one, you think reverently.

But for all his beauty, he’s still very much a stranger to you.

Jimin and Jungkook live next door and are your friends. You’ve known them for years. Even hooked up with them a couple of times ( individually that is ) . Jungkook’s a sweetheart, kind and generous and Jimin is a bit of a pervert but very gentle.

You like them.

Kim Taehyung’s the one here you don’t really know too well. Taehyung’s the new transfer student, and for all his beauty and popularity he holds himself aloof from others. Polite but somehow intimidating. He doesn’t have a lot of friends save for Jimin and Jungkook and he’s turned down every girl that’s asked him out so far.

In fact you half expected him to make a noise of disgust and walk away when you offered to let the three star players of the basketball team , fuck you in the locker rooms after the match if they won the match on friday.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to straighten up, face showing interest for the first time this entire night, eyes lighting up as he sauntered closer , clearly eager to make you follow through on your promise.

There’s a very familiar voice screaming in the back of your head, going, ‘ what the fuck are you doing you idiot, ‘ but that voice is way too faint. Easily silenced by the lust and anticipation clouding your senses.

You blink at him, affronted.

“You don’t value my word?” You frown deeply. Jimin laughs at that, voice breathy and angelic.

“Not when something like this is at risk.” He teases, eyes fond and eager , but tongue licking his lips as he trails his gaze up and down your body, blatant and shameless in his admiration.

You pout a little, tugging the plush softness of your lower lip between your teeth , too tipsy to notice the way the three men follow the movement, hungry and eager as they stare at your tongue as it peeks out a bit to wet your lips.

“Hmm...okay.” You grab a napkin off the counter, looking around for a pen. But the chances of finding a pen in a frat party is next to none and you frown.

“Here you go angel.” Taehyung taps his chest and you stare. Oh yeah, Taehyung’s wearing a black button down and there’s a shiny pen sticking out of his pocket. You hold your hand out for it but he doesn’t budge. Instead he curls his finger , asking you to come get it yourself.

“So mean.” You pout, voice a little whiny as you move to get it from him. He’s so distressingly tall and you reach up to grab the pen, only to stumble a little, face crashing into his chest.

Strong arms come around your body, grip hard and sturdy and the scent of his cologne makes saliva pool in your mouth. You’re almost drooling because of how fucking good he smells, how warm he feels and god he’s built like a dream. Hard abs, thick arms and broad shoulders. His fingers grip your waist, squeezing hard and you wince a bit because it stings .

“little slut.” He whispers, and you blink , confused. You look up at his face and there’s nothing but fondness there, like he’s praising you.

You press your fists against his chest to push away from him. His hand shoots out gripping your wrist hard before bringing it up to his chest.

“Your pen, angel.” He smirks and you grab it quickly, shaking his grip off your wrist.

You stare down at the napkin in your hand.

“What am i supposed to write here?” You feel completely disoriented. Both Jimin and Jungkook merely smile and its Taehyung who steps forward, eyes glinting.

“Let me help.” he drawled, leaning over the counter and scribbling quickly on the piece of paper. i watched as he straightened away eyes flitting to see what he’d written.

I, ---- , agree to be the perfect little cum dumpster for Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin, for the duration of one night , to be an obedient little slut, doing as asked , when asked without putting up a fight, like the whore that I am....

I felt blood rush to my ears, the words obscene and wrong in my ear.

It was a good thing there was no chance they would win.

I glared at him, signing the paper with a flourish.

“Did you even read it?” He raised an eyebrow.

You nod.

“Read it aloud for me anyway, angel. Just so i can be sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ve never seen you at a match before.” Your best friend looks completely surprised by your presence in the front row , at the game on friday night. You’re here for one reason and one reason only.

To gloat in Kim Taehyung’s face after he faces crushing defeat in the hands of the other team.

Except, that’s not quite what happens.

Astro are good but apparently the only thing your school had needed all along was one Kim fucking Taehyung. He seemed to know exactly what plays the other team was going to use , out maneuvering them each time and you feel the first inkling of regret begin to stir. Throat going just a little dry at half time ,you turn to your friend.

“How’s he beating their ass like that?” You croak out pointing at Taehyung, who’s drinking water . His eyes are searching the crowd and you just know. Instinctively, that he’s looking for you. Feeling hunted, you crouch lower, gripping your friends arm in a death grip.

“Didn’t you know? He used to play for them before he transferred here. “

Your heart takes a straight dive to your knees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the match ends, Bangtan winning by a huge margin, you hightail it out of the stands. You get held up a bit by the crowds, a precious fifteen minutes pent fighting the throng of bodies and you can feel your pulse racing.

The bet said one night. Not tonight.

So maybe you could put it off... maybe you could get some time... just to prepare yourself... getting fucked by three guys at once was definitely NOT on your bucket list and while the idea is thrilling and exciting you just need to get your bearings, get some semblance of clarity in your head.

The halls are deserted , nearly everyone is at the game and you begin running , almost sighing in relief when you reach the final turn in the hallway , opening into the parking lot.

You turn the corner, still running , only to crash straight into a broad , strapping body.

His fucking scent is what hits you first and you panic.

no...no..fuck...

Before you can get away he wraps one arm right around your middle, lifting you clear off the ground , his palm coming down to muffle the scream that bubbles up your throat and the sound of Taehyung’s deep laughter makes your hair stand on end.

“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.” Taehyung sings softly into your ear and you close your eyes in despair.

Now you know that the faint voice you ignored that night was the voice of reason.

It takes you a second to notice that both Jungkook and Jimin are there as well, freshly showered and dressed in sweats looking cheerfully amused.

“Changed your mind, baby?” Jimin teases and Taehyung growls behind you, the sound low and raspy against your ear.

“Like hell she has. Know what I’ve been jerking off to for the past week? Play it for her ...jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook looks entirely too happy as he fumbles with his phone.

Your own voice fills the hallway, soft and sultry and slurring just a little.

“ I,----, agree to be the perfect little cum dumpster for Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin, for the duration of one night , to be an obedient little slut, doing as asked , when asked without putting up a fight, like the whore that I am....”

You whimper because yes...you definitely said that out loud and fuck him for having recorded it when had he even done that.... and yup you definitely signed a paper too.

“ Did you change your mind, angel?” Taehyung asks gently and you hesitate. Your body is already thrumming with anticipation and the idea of putting this off , going through it all over again is unappealing. Why not just get it over with?

Hos bad could it possibly be , right?

You shake your head slowly.

“Good girl.” Taehyung’s arm relaxes a bit, letting you go and you stumble away, moving to Jimin instinctively You know Jimin. Jimin is safe.

The latter gives you a warm hug, pulling you closer.

“I got you, baby.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek,” its just a good time. You’ll have fun. Don’t be scared.” He soothes. Taehyung’s eyes glint devilishly and Jungkook rubs a reassuring hand up and down your arm.

“We’ll take my car. “ Taehyung says coolly, slinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder and dragging him along, , already walking away and you cling to Jimin for security, following the other two to the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung is, apparently filthy rich.

He has a huge dance studio in his house and apparently, he was well prepared. Your eyes fall on the plush mattress on the floor, the condoms nearby and you feel yourself flushing.

You open your mouth , ready to say something...what you’re not so sure, but then Jungkook is grabbing you by the arm, yanking you forward and pressing his lips against yours. You’ve kissed him enough times that it is instinctive for you to put you hand on his shoulder while he holds your waist gently, his tongue licking its way into your mouth as he tilts his face to get a better angle

“Can’t believe you agreed to get your cunt wrecked by three guys at the same time.... It’s just like they say... its always the ones that look innocent. ” Taehyung’s voice is soft against your ear and you can feel him behind you, pressed up against your back.

You shiver when firm hands come around you from the back, Taehyung’s fingers making quick work of the buttons on your blouse. Before you can fully process it, Jimin’s already yanking your skirt and underwear down in one clean move. You feel Taehyung’s long fingers flick your bra open easily and you shiver when the fabric falls away, leaving you fully naked in front of three fully dressed men.

“You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, angel.” Taehyung taunts, pressing closer and rolling his hips into your back, his clothed erection pressing against the cleft of your ass .

You can feel yourself getting wet already, you pussy clenching around nothing, your insides aching . You clench your fists to ground yourself. It was way too early to be feeling this desperate, you think wildly. you won’t survive the night if you get so aroused so quickly.

Taehyung hums hands falling on your waist, cool against your bare skin and he trails his hand down to the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging in with enough force to make you whimper.

“Shut up, you little slut, i barely touched you.” Taehyung snaps, slapping your thigh. Hard.

Jungkook pulls back when you choke a little at the pain. Taehyung points at the younger with a smile.

“Go strip and lie down on the mattress Jungkook-ah. Let’s have her sit on your face for a while.” He says calmly and Jungkook moves to obey quickly. While he strips, Jimin moves to take his place, kissing you gently , hands reaching down to shape your breasts, thumbs rubbing against your nipples till the nubs pucker up, hard and throbbing.

Fingers slip into your pussy, so long and thick that your eyes widen in shock at the intrusion. Taehyung is rough and ruthless, fucking into you with ease.

“Not as tight as i expected. You get around huh , angel?” He asks casually and you feel like your entire body is one fire. Jimin kneads your breasts, tongue licking into your mouth as he moans, tasting you. You can see Jungkook over Jimin’s shoulder, while Taehyung fucks his long, fingers into you , hard and rough. He’s stripped fully now and your eyes drink in the sight of him naked, muscles on display and you tremble, because he looks so fucking good.

“Hmm.. Jungkook looks good huh baby? He’s gonna fuck you so good tonight. All nice and gentle and considerate ... because he’s a good little kid....Not like me. I’m gonna make you fucking limp. “ Taehyung slips one hand around to rub a thumb against your clit, and you clench down around his fingers.

Jimin pulls back.

“You talk too fucking much. Let me fuck her now.” He drawls, eyes dancing as he tugs you closer . You whimper when Taehyung’s finger slip right out, wetness spilling out of you , dripping down your thigh with ease.

Taehyung wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up, before taking a couple of steps and tossing you on the mattress. You bounce for a second, surprised and then before you can get yourself together, Jimin is pushing you up on top of Jungkook.

“Come and straddle my shoulders, beautiful.” Jungkook says sweetly and your thighs feel like jelly. You struggle a bit to do as as asked, sitting on his chest , knees hitting the mattress on either side of his face and he reaches out, gripping your waist and pulling you closer till your pussy is right over his mouth.

“Guk-ah wait. “ You turn around and Jimin is right behind you, kneeling over Jungkook’s chest as well, stroking his cock to full hardness.

Jungkook laughs a little.

“Looks like Jimin hyung wants to fuck you while I eat you out... Spread your thighs a little, baby.” He says.

You glance up at Taehyung, who’s watching you carefully, fingers lazily stripping off his own clothes and you swallow, turning away to the front and spreading your knees a bit more.

You almost lose balance and crash forward, but strong hands grip your arms, keeping you kneeling over the youngest and you stare up at Taehyung, who’s standing right over jungkook, his cock right up against your face. You stare at the hard, thick length of it mouth watering and he laughs knowingly.

“Can always tell a good slut apart from the look in her eyes.” He grins, “ You look like you can’t wait for me to fuck your mouth , angel.”

“No , I-” you’re cut off by the thick cockhead nudging your entrance and you grab Taehyung’s waist to steady yourself, gasping when Jimin slides right into you from behind. The feeling of being filled

“Fuck, Jimin hyung, i can see your cock fucking right into her pretty pink pussy... She’s dripping all over my face.” Jungkook’s awed voice makes your cheek flame and you grip taehyung harder.

“Lick her clit, jungkook’ ah ...make her cum....” Taehyung says causally, before carefully leaning down and gripping your jaw. His fingers dig into your skin , making you open your mouth.

“Your tongue feels a little too dry , angel..” He comments, after slipping two fingers into your mouth.” i like my fuckholes wet and messy.... “ He smiles, leaning closer. You feel jungkook’s tongue flicking rapidly against your clit and your thighs tremble as Jimin fucks into you. Jungkook uses his finger to lightly pinch your clit and you feel yourself get wetter dripping all over his chin and Jimin swears.

“Fuck so fucking wet...” He fucks into you harder, the squelching sound loud and embarrassing in the room.

Taehyung smiles fondly.

“ Knew you’d be the perfect little fuck toy....Hold your tongue out for me....” To far gone to think, you stick your tongue out and he smiles, “ Don’t fucking swallow...” He instructs and your eyes widen when he leans over and opens his mouth, spitting a mouthful of his spit into your tongue. Before you can fully process it , he’s already feeding his thick cock into your mouth, hands reaching back to grip your hair hair yanking your head back.

He uses one hand to keep your head back, the other tracing your throat, feeling the bulge of his dick through the skin of your neck as he shoves his cock right down your throat. Your eyes water, drooling slipping out of the corner of your mouth as you inhale shakily every time he pulls out, gripping his waist to stop your self from collapsing into a heap on the mattress.

The sensation of being fucked by Jimin , and having Jungkook’s tongue all over your clit , flicking the throbbing swollen nub, while Taehyung fucked your mouth raw with sharp powerful thrust is something you won’t forget till the day you fucking die.

“Your cunt’s dripping wet for us...you love this don’t you pretty?” Jungkook teases between licks and Jimin laughs.

“Slutty little kittens like her always like getting their cunt wrecked....” He presses kisses all over your neck and Taehyung merely groans, fingers tightening on your scalp, yanking you closer so he can fuck you deeper.

“Tight little cunt...can’t wait to fucking break it. “ Taehyung hisses and the words tip you over the edge, your pussy clenching around Jimin , who stiffens at the sensation.

“Fuck... I’m coming.” He grunts, gripping your waist hard, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom . Jungkook groans at that.

“About fucking time hyung, “ He sighs, pulling away from your clit, licking the juices spilling out of your fucked out cunt, “ my cock hurts...get the fuck away I need to get in her....fuck.”

You feel your limbs turn to jelly and Taehyung pulls out of your mouth as well as you collapse a bit.

“You okay baby...need a drink of water?” Jimin asks softly and you nod. He moves away to get the bottle and Jungkook crawls up the mattress till you’re straddling his hips.

“Can i fuck you?” He asks hesitantly and you laugh a little at the tone of his voice. Fuck...he looks like he’s asking for banana milk or something. Before you can fully appreciate the duality of the kid, he’s lining himself up against your entrance and thrusting up into you.

“Hang on Jungkook ah... let me join you.” Taehyung says softly . Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him.

“What? i think i deserve to get a turn with that slutty cunt , too right?” He laughed, moving to kneel on the mattress next to you. Jungkook stops moving clearly confused about the mechanics but Taehyung merely grabs your waist and lifts you up.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, he prompts and you do as he says.

“Hyung...” Jungkook whines from the mattress in protest and Taehyung gives him a glare.

“Patience Jungkook-ah..” He says sternly. “ I’m gonna lean back against the wall and you’re going to slip in with me. We’ll fuck her together ..... Make sure she remembers this for a while....” he smirks.

Jimin appears then, fully dressed and with bottle of water. He opens it for you, holding the mouth against your lips and you take big greedy gulps of the liquid.

“Ready to get DP’d baby? Cross that off your bucket list?” Jimin asks with a smirk and you groan.

“I’m not forgiving you for this.” You croak out at him. Your voice scratchy from disuse. You haven’t spoken a word to Taehyung this entire time. Although its clear he’s the one running this entire show. You just can’t bring yourself to say anything to his face. He terrifies you and the worst part is how arousing that fear is.

Jungkook stands up then , stroking his cock impatiently.

“I need to fuck her now. Its not fair that I’m the only one who hasn’t had a turn yet” He pouts petulantly and you swallow, wrapping your arms tighter around Taehyung’s neck. He startles when you bury your nose into his neck, moving your hips a bit till the head of his cock is pressed against your slit.

“I’m ready...” You whisper softly, literally the first words you’ve spoken to him since this started and he swallows.

“Good girl. ” He says gently and you tremble at how deep his voice is. He grips the back of your thighs, spreading you open before gently lowering you down onto his cock . He’s bigger than Jimin and you have to grit your teeth to take in the length of him.

“poor Jungkookie....he looks like he’s gonna cry...” His fingers flutter down to where his cock is fucking into you, tracing the seam of your pussy and scooping up the wetness of your arousal. You groan when he slips two fingers in along with his cock, stretching you out a bit more.

“You can take it.... Your body ...fuck... so tight and so fucking hot...you were built for this... the perfect little doll...”

You feel yourself slipping but then there’s a familiar warm body, pressed up against your back and you sigh as Jungkook grips your waist holding you up steadier, lining his dick up against your pussy.

“Gonna push in, sweetheart.” Jungkook presses a wet kiss against your shoulder.

“Just relax....don’t clench down....relax and your body will do all the work for you angel...relax and you can take both of us in...” Taehyung whispers. You breathe in deep, exhaling harshly. Fear is still simmering on the surface. you’ve never done something like this before.

“Ready...” He prompts and you take a deep breath, letting your limbs go limp on the exhale and Jungkook pushes in , cleaving his way into your body with one smooth stroke.

The pressure is unbearable and you feel like you’re being split apart. But you also feel so incredibly full, both of them lodged so deep inside you that you can feel them in your gut. You let your eyes shut close, dropping your head down on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Ready, kook-ah?” Taehyung says suddenly and you eyes fly open. Ready for what.

Without warning, Jungkook pulls out and just as he pushes back in Taehyung pulls out.

Your entire body clenches at the sensation, pleasure hitting every single inch of you as they set up a rhythm , taking turns to fuck into you and you can only hang on , gripping Taehyung’s shoulders as your body burns hotter and hotter, fire licking up your insides where you feel swollen and tender and fucking ruined.

This time when you cum, you black out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up in an unfamiliar room, showered and wearing a really big white t shirt and a pair of silk boxers and you blush.

God this was embarrassing. You’re feeling surprisingly okay, consider what just happened. A little sore but nothing too terrible.

The knock on the door makes you jump.

“Come in .” You said softly.

Its Taehyung.

“Hey... How are you doing ?” He asks with a little smile, a glass of water in his hand and you feel yourself flushing.

“I... is Jimin around... “ You ask desperately.

“He’s gone home. You sort of passed out so I brought you here.” He was staring at you so intently, you couldn’t quite think clearly.

“Oh well.. I’m fine.. you should drop me home.” You say shrilly.

"i called your mother. Told her you were having a sleepover with my sister. So you can crash here for the night. ”

“Your sister? “ you blink

“Taehee? She’s in pre med....”

“Oh...okay.” you smile awkwardly.

“I’ll leave the door open. I’m in the guest room down the hall.” he says pointing.

that startles you.

You look around curiously, finally noticing the posters and the basket ball jersey in the closet.

“this is your room?”

He nods.

“ I can sleep in the guest room!”

He smiles.

“The bed’s lumpy there.”

You bite your lips, fighting a smile.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Or maybe you just want your sheets to smell like me.” You don’t know where this is coming from. Are you really flirting with Kim Taehyung?

He laughs.

“Maybe. Good night, ------”

He locks the door behind him as he leaves.

~~~~~~~!~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : how to waste two hours : a memoir by me.

#taehyung smut #jungkook smut #maknaeline smut #bts smut #bts au #bts fics

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years ago

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 3

This fic assumes Mishima isn't a confidant, the reader is the Moon arcana instead, keep this in mind.

word count: 6.3k words, SFW

- Admin Myah

Over the next few weeks spent with Akira, or… Joker, as he seemed to be called when the situation demanded, you learned that the world was much more complicated than you ever could’ve dreamed. Sure, you praised yourself for being a little less of a sheep than the idle-brained teenagers of your everyday life who thought of nothing but gossip, status and appearances, but now you felt insignificant, like you’d been asleep all this time until Akira, Ryuji and Ann had placed six symbolic hands upon you, and shaken you to life. Layers upon layers, he explained the subconscious world that lay beneath, which ached to be revealed, only to those who’d open their eyes.

＊

It’d been a rush, your first time in the Metaverse. You’d insisted to Akira, though he protested, that you wanted to see what all of this near-unbelievable nonsense he was explaining was all about. He’d never taken non-Phantom-Thief confidants into the Metaverse, and he was hesitant, silent for a long while before deciding that your help was worth the risk. After all, he’d already told you everything, and they had no way to erase memories… yet.

You remember Akira taking your hand, the skin on skin contact. Up on the school’s rooftop with Ryuji and Ann flanking you, Akira had told you it was a precaution, to make absolutely sure that you transferred into the Metaverse with them and landed in the same place. You had to be touching one of them, for your safety, and he’d eagerly volunteered. With the cat in his bag seeming to smile at you over his shoulder (an occurrence which made you feel like you were going looney already) he tapped an app icon on his phone, some scary red little square, and with that, your body lifted, began to float, or so it seemed. Red completely consumed your vision, red and black ink like those blobs you’d seen the Phantom Thieves appear from when this all began. You gasped, stumbling back a step as if you could escape the all-encompassing wave, and Akira, sensing your trepidation, squeezed your hand slightly.

The rooftop faded, and you felt like a character from a videogame fast-traveling to their destination. Almost as fast as it appeared, the trippy red and black sludge subsided, and before you sat a dark, dreary scenery. A castle, one that obviously belonged to a malevolent ruler sat amongst a purple sky and the smell of despair.

“What the…” your mouth hung agape for a second, taking in your surroundings before letting your eyes trail down to where your hand met Akira’s. Assuming you no longer needed it, you shook him off gently, not even sparing a glance his way, and his eyebrows creased just the smallest amount, not that you noticed. You were too focused on the giant cat before you, knee-height, with a round, bulbous head. “Is… are you-?!”

“Much more handsome and dashing in this form, wouldn’t you say?” Morgana - now confirmed - gave you a sly look as you leaned down to his height to run your hand along the fur on his head.

“Wow… so cute!” You cooed.

“Hey! Stop it! Stop it! I am a warrior and to be taken seriously!” he whined, shooing away your hands, his fur on end.

“Ha!” a sharp laugh rang out behind you, and you turned to see that Morgana wasn’t the only one who’d made a drastic change. Ryuji was now clad in some kind of leather pirate’s uniform, his demeanor far more fearsome and a skull mask across his face. Ann donned a skin-tight body suit and cat mask, and Akira wore a lavish long coat, red gloves, and a masquerade mask. He looked like a magician from some fairytale, or perhaps the leader of some band of Robin-Hood-inspired band of vigilantes… although you supposed that was kind of what he was now… either way, he would make amazing source material for your main protagonist. Such swagger, a commanding presence… he didn’t seem to exactly be the same Akira you’d met earlier.

＊

The trip to the Metaverse was almost completely uneventful… almost. Just once, when you’d begged Akira to press forward and show you the inside of the castle, something called a “shadow” attacked, and you got to see the band of thieves in action. It was shocking, leaving chills running down your spine. Here were your classmates, people your age with ghost-like spirits materializing at their backs, flipping through the castle’s corridors, shooting guns and slingshots and magic at terrifying beasts. It was all so fast-paced, so stunning, that your body locked up witnessing the battle. A shadow spotted you in the background, defenseless and clearly not part of the Phantom Thief entourage, and taking the petty opportunity only a sore-loser on the ropes would take, struck out against you. You shrieked, your hands uselessly coming up to defend your face as if it would help. Akira’s eyes widened, his reflexes so much faster in this realm, and turned on his heel, diving in front of you to deflect the blast of frosty energy swirling toward you. It bounced off of the side of his large steel dagger and ricoheted back at the shadow. After assessing the situation and asking if you were okay, Akira decided it was time to return you back to the real world. It was too dangerous for someone without a persona to wander here. The thieves would return later, once you were safe at home.

＊

Anyway, now you believed him, you knew everything he was saying, about Kamoshida and his fucked up mind, about confidants, personas and metacognition was real and very much a serious matter. Now all that was left was to decide just how you could help them, what kind of deal you could strike with the clever leader of the Phantom Thieves. Of course, he didn’t expect you to get something and give nothing.

It was decided that you’d offer your knowledge as a writer to help with negotiation and charming shadows in the Metaverse. You’d turn those golden lines you wrote on the pages into real-life lessons, and Akira would learn to seduce shadows, to out-smart them, to persuade them to give up everything they had: their money, precious belongings, even their very selves. He would flirt, threaten, intimidate, any honeyed word or silver-tongued method he could use to make deals with shadows go along more smoothly. Perfect. It would help him out immensely. But, what did you want, he’d asked again.

It felt embarrassing, now that you were put on the spot, forced to disclose it, but although those “golden words” translated well into lessons for others, you found that you couldn’t as easily take your own advice. You struggled with human interaction in your real life, especially of the romantic kind. You could write a healthy relationship out on paper, create the ideal love interest from scratch for a story, but stumbled along words like some socially incompetent fool once it came time to apply that knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, these days even getting true, realistic romantic moments down on paper was a struggle. The well was drying up, writer’s block, as you’d explained it to your online friends. It was near impossible to make something from nothing, and you had nothing. No real romantic experience. You couldn’t help but think this was the route of the problem. Your writing, your precious romance novel would flourish, if only it’s author wasn’t completely clueless.

“Date me…” You mumbled, surprised out how your long moment of pensive introspection had accumulated into this clunky statement.

“What?” Akira let out a breath he’d seemed to be holding the entire time, just watching you think on what method of reciprocity was worth your help. Losing your nerve at the incredulous tone of his voice and the raise of his brows, you shrunk back a bit, ready to defend your words.

“W-wait!” You held a hand out between you. “Not really. I mean…” how to word this…? “Like, fake!” He looked even more confused than before. You released a noise of frustration. “What I mean is, you take me on dates - fake ones - stupid little stuff couples do, for my writing, of course…” You looked toward the ground, suddenly extremely interested in your shoes.

“How does that benefit you in any way?” He smiled, a bit forced, a blush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Well I- I’ve been having writer's block lately. I mean sure, I can give you lines and lessons from my previous works, drabble and things I’ve learned, written down in the past, but I have no fresh material. Stagnation is every writer’s downfall, but I have no experience, I need more to go off of… and then maybe I can even transfer what I discern from our… interactions - er… dates I mean - to you. Does that make sense?” You looked up at him hopefully.

“Uh… no,” Yeah, you knew it didn’t, but that’s all you had for him. His hand shook, much less confident as Akira than Joker, and he shoved it in his pocket.

“It’s hard to explain, I just… that’s my deal. Will you take it?” You clutched your bag a little closer to your body. “We don’t even have to tell anybody. I just want to experience it… going out… with someone…” It sounded a little more pathetic now that you were actually hearing yourself. You both stood in silence, Akira contemplating your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you as a person… it was just… complicated…

“Give me a day to think about it,” he spoke quietly, giving you a polite send off before parting ways.

That night, anxiety set in as you rolled around in your bed restlessly.

Did you sound like a creep? Were you being unreasonable? Was this asking too much of him? Does he think you’re crazy? You’ll probably never hear from him again. He’d probably rather find a way in that crazy Metaverse to erase your memories so he can forget the awkward exchange ever happened. Maybe he’ll kick your shadow’s ass one day.

You debated going to school the next day.

＊

Akira’s night, though not as horrendous as yours, was not a peaceful one. Like so many nights, he found himself awoken to the clink of a ball and chain, dressed in striped rags as he stood and walked to the bars of his cell. The twins were waiting, as always, anger in their eyes.

“Look alive, prisoner!” Caroline spoke.

“Our master would have a word with you!” Justine chimed in. Akira looked up, meeting Igor’s large grin.

“You’ve forsaken a bond, Trickster. One must ask, why?” Igor’s hands splayed over a deck on cards on his desk.

“Huh…? What do you mean?” Sleep lingering in his mind, and confused as to why he was here this time, Akira replied.

“I’ve told you, the bonds you strengthen over time and the new bonds you form, they will be what wins this fight. You can only complete your mission, save all that is, through the support your confidants provide, so why have you abandoned this bond?” Igor’s fingers folded together, hands clasped, a show of disappointment. “Now is not the time to not try hard enough.” Was that a hint of frustration in his tone? If so, he didn’t show it.

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Akira rubbed one eye lazily.

“You’re not trying to understand, worm! Wake up!” Caroline’s fist banged down across the bars, startling Akira slightly. He looked to Igor again, who held up a single card between two fingers. On its face sat two wolves, both howling up at a glittering moon.

“The Moon.” Igor stated plainly. “Illusion, fear, anxiety, intuition, uncertainty, complexity, secrets, the unconscious mind. A friend, a possible lover, someone unsure of themselves and others. Creativity, shadowed by doubt. Someone who supports others but not themselves.” As he spoke, images of your face flashed in Akira’s mind. Igor threw the card into the air, catching it upside-down, letting the wolves fall into the moon, swimming in its glow. “Reversed: release of fear, repressed emotion, clarity, misinterpretations overturned. Someone who can fix what was upright. But you’ve passed over the opportunity.” Igor swipes his free hand in front of the card, and it disappears.

Scenes play out in Akira’s head. Confrontation with shadows, confrontations with real people, but these aren’t real… or rather, haven’t happened yet.

He receives clarity.

The Moon has more to offer than lessons on charisma, seduction, trickery, persuasion. His intuition will grow, his ability to perceive things before they happen, the ability to read and understand people, and be understood in return. Other bonds will grow, empathy will grow. More friends, closer friends, a flash of blue hair, white uniform, red hair, headphones, then a tidy uniform, a Shujin uniform, gloves, a beige jacket, and finally bouncy curls and a soft, high pitched voice. With your help, the Phantom Thieves can grow. Bonds will strengthen. Complexity, Igor had said. More than meets the eye. Was there more to you? You weren’t too bad, obviously intelligent… a bit odd, but kind enough, and he did find you cute… but pretending, a fake relationship? How could a fake bond strengthen

The card reappears, as if out of thin air, and Igor points to one upside down wolf.

“Me.” Joker whispers, as if guided by an unseen force. Igor points to the other wolf.

You.

He awakens with a start, nearly knocking Morgana off the bed. He has an answer for you now.

＊

He finds you at school the next day, huddled in the library and not where you’d said you’d meet him. You’d been dreading this, waiting for the rejection, your hand trembling slightly on the book in your hands. He sits across from you, a look of determination on his face. Waiting for him to speak was torture.

“I’ll do it.” He holds out a hand, waiting for you to shake it, seal the deal. A contact has been signed.

＊

Your first date with Akira is clunky, unpracticed, unprecedented of course. He doesn’t know much about what to do, either, so he takes you to Le Blanc for dinner. Some coffee and curry, maybe a soda and some conversation on the side? It couldn’t be too bad, right? That’s what dudes do, he thought, bring their... pretend sweetheart somewhere for dinner, right? Sojiro is teasing, of course, wondering who this new person was, why Akira was holding their hand. He smirks like a dad proud of his boy, and Akira, too embarrassed under Sojiro’s scrutiny now to sit down and serve you curry, rushes you upstairs.

After being dragged by the hand up rickety old stairs, you end up in Akira’s room alone. You look around, taking in his sparse decorations, humble belongings. It then strikes you that you are, in fact, alone. Alone with a boy in his room, for the first time in your life. You didn’t know how you got here, and so fast. Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe you just needed to calm down. This was part of the process, right? Real couples did this, to get to know each other. He beckons you over, gestures for you to sit on his bed with him. You’re hesitant, but Akira isn’t making a big deal out of it, and you’re not really alone, with Morgana right there, so you sit, as far from him as you could be on the surprisingly soft bed. Struggling for words and new to dates himself, Akira decides to treat you first and foremost like his friend. That makes this all easier.

He spends the next hour or so describing Mementos, his mentor Igor, the twins. He wants you to know everything, and it surprises him. His other confidants, save for the actual Phantom Thieves, don’t know anything about the hidden world their bonds are healing. He describes the arcana to you, the tarot, the way his soul resonates with The Fool, Ryuji The Chariot, Ann The Lovers. His doctor friend is Death, Sojiro the Hierophant. Morgana here is the Magician, and proud of it. He explains how he feels a bond with them, as he now does with you. They make him feel like he can do anything. You’re included in that now. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks. How could he say that so casually? It wasn’t like it was a love confession or whatever, but you had trouble seriously telling your online friends you appreciated having them in your lives without adding a joke or meme in there somewhere. Why did he even need your help? He seemed well spoken. You said so, voicing these opinions aloud.

“Huh.. you know, I actually don’t usually talk this much,” he smiled. “Must just be you.” He was only half teasing. You looked away nervously, feeling the need to change the subject.

“S-so, what am I?” You began to stroke Morgana’s fur, and this time he didn’t seem to mind.

“You mean your soul?” He scooted a bit closer.

“Yeah.” It didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Moon.” He replied softly.

He spent the rest of the night explaining the levels of Mementos, and some of the wicked people whose hearts he’s had the displeasure of seeing inside, but the absolute pleasure of changing. You say you aren’t surprised so many people are walking around so hurt inside or eager to hurt others. When the “date” ends - neither of you having even gotten that promised coffee or curry downstairs - you’re touching, sitting shoulder to shoulder looking at the moon outside his window with Morgana on your lap. The room seems a little warmer, a little less humble. Akira mentions with a sheepish grin that it’s getting late, and offers to walk you home.

Rank Up!

＊

You sit in your bed that night, Akira now having returned to Le Blanc, and think about if this will make good writing material or not. You had to have learned something, right? There was something to be gained from every experience… but you can’t help feeling like you’ve warmed up to the thought of Akira a bit more… not too much, however. You smiled to yourself at the thought of The Fool, tricked into dating the Moon, for all it can offer him.

He’d been so awkward at your front door when he dropped you off. You could tell he had no clue what to do. He was frantically looking around. People in movies kissed their date at this point, cheek or lips, depending on how the date went, right? He confessed that he’s one of those people who truly don’t know anything about romance, like you’d mentioned earlier in one of your conversations. You tell him it’s fine, that you didn’t expect anything, that you just met the other day. He thought he was being clear, dropping hints that he might want to peck your cheek, just a quick gesture to kick off your fake relationship, but maybe he wasn’t as slick as he thought. The hints seemed to go over your head. Maybe he really did need help.

＊

Your second date comes in the form of you begging to go back into the Metaverse for some inspiration. He fights you, bringing up the last time a shadow attacked you, but you are persistent. He gives in, taking you to the highest rung of Mementos, where the shadows are weak and he can keep you safe adequately on his own. It is a date, after all, no Phantom Thieves tagging along. Mementos is a bit more frightening than Kamoshida’s Palace, you mention, and he eases your fear, promising to protect you here, always. You take in his Phantom Thief uniform in more detail as you walk the long corridors of the realm of the subconscious and decide he looks quite handsome in it.

You watch him battle a demon that is the personification of lust, a succubus-like creature dripping with temptation and love, or so it thinks. Joker uses all that you’ve taught him so far, which isn’t much, and cons the false idol of love out of their money. It was quite comical yet a bit sad to watch the shadows expression fall from a cocky to a defeated one, but preformative love you’ve decided, is doomed to lose. The irony flies over your head.

From this experience, watching Joker fight with speed and grace, you settle on a genre for your novel. It will be a high-fantasy romance. Joker will inspire your main character, of course, but the love interest… was still undecided. You started drafting her to look like Ann, act like Ann, give off the energy and power Ann does. Ryuji was an option at first as well to inspire the love interest’s personality, but he was a bit too brash. You wanted someone strong, but soft and elegant at the same time. These characters were loosely based on the Phantom Thieves, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

＊

When you leave the Metaverse, though Akira is a bit exhausted, he takes you to a local casual restaurant to make up for the last time at Le Blanc. There, sitting across the counter from you two is an older gentleman. Yoshida, Akira whispers, is a friend of his, another confidant. The Sun. Yoshida makes small talk, asking politely if you’re with Akira, and you feel your stomach clench. You knew this was fake, the agreement was clear, but hearing it aloud, the awkward ‘we’re just friends’ that was coming made you sweat. It still felt like rejection anyway. When Akira confirms that yes, you are in fact dating, your eyes widen, the coil in your stomach releasing. He smiles, taking your hand. This has to be an act, a show to play up the relationship. He’s just performing his duty, his role, holding up his end of the deal in order to simulate a real relationship and give you worthwhile source material… right?

Either way, you appreciate not being publicly humiliated, and smile back. That night, you write down everything, and what it’s like to not be alone.

Rank Up!

＊

Days pass, Kamoshida coming and going, justice being served, and you spend more and more time with your fake boyfriend. Your parents let him come over, and in your room you let him read some of the old poetry you’ve written, some lame pining drabble from your younger years, and some more recent things you’re proud of. He scours your room, digging up old hobbies and photos. You tell him all about them. He tells you he enjoys learning these things about you. You simply smile. It doesn’t seem to be the reaction he was looking for. Not liking the small frown that adorns his features, you pick the conversation back up, asking if he thinks you’ll ever have a persona. He smiles, maybe someday.

Rank Up!

＊

The Phantom Thieves are gaining fame, only more fodder for your writing. The more you hang out with Akira and his friends, the more real it feels. Your online friends can feel it, too. They sense you changing, talking less of writing and more of Akira. They tease you, of course, but they don’t get it. He’s just a main character… just a muse.

This time, Akira walks home to Le Blanc alone, wondering if he should tell you how he feels. He doesn’t like it, holding up this pretense of a fake relationship, pretending the glances and touches don’t matter. He wants to tell you…

...that he’s slowly falling.

You receive a little gift in the mail the next day. It’s a deck of tarot cards. The return address is blank. You call him to tell him all about it, and end up discussing the pros and cons of each card all night. What a coincidence that you should receive your own deck all of a sudden.

Rank Up!

＊

There are moments where you’re afraid you may be falling, too. There was the time that a blue-haired young man stalked you and your friends through Shibuya, turning corners when you did, always on your trail. When Ryuji finally got fed up and confronted the weirdo, asking why the hell he was following you guys, he’d revealed that his name was Yusuke, a student of a painting master, and that he was simply following inspiration where it lead.

“Your friend there, I was drawn to them,” he points elegantly, like some manga bishounen, past Ryuji and toward you. “I beg of you, allow me to paint your form. Something about your normalcy stands out. What I mean is, there is beauty to be found in not standing out, a silent grace in being so plain.” You could tell Yusuke meant no harm, that he simply may be a bit socially inept with his words, as well, but the way he was talking about you set something in Akira on fire. He stood in front of you, shifting until his body blocked yours from Yusuke’s sight.

“They aren’t plain.” He spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone, and you felt your heartbeat speed up. The hint of jealousy in his voice at Yusuke’s request for you to model for him, and anger at him calling someone he found so fascinating plain was evident.

＊

Yusuke seemed to be in denial in the coming days. Though your little troupe seemed to constantly be bumping into him, offering him sound advice and trying to awaken him to the mire of corruption that was the truth behind his mentor, Ichiryusai Madarame, he refused to see reason. He dove further into his art, but you could tell he was hurting. You used your time with Akira these days to teach him how art, much like film and literature, can reflect false truths and influence people. The deception, corruption and shallowness of the media extended to the art world, as he learned after one or two gallery visits with you.

It was then, in a gallery displaying Yusuke’s work, as you sat in a secluded corner alone discussing ways to take down Madarame, that Akira started to flirt incessantly.

He takes your hand, bringing up romantic tropes in movies he’s seen that seem so forced, one-sided, cliche, uncomfortable. He mentions that he would’ve done better, explains how those scenes would’ve played out if he had any say.

“Is that so?” Your brow raises, amused by how animated this usually quiet boy could be when he was passionate about something.

“Yeah! Of course! What, you don’t see me doing that?” he laughed breathily, going on about how the male lead of some high-school romance film Sojiro rented for him was clumsy, forceful, and didn't give his lover time and space to think about their feelings. “I would’ve treated them much, much better… “ his words trail off, as if lost in thought.

“...Is that so?” You ask again, studying his face and asking yourself how you didn’t notice before how beautiful the hue of his eyes were. You sure as hell were noticing now… steely grey, sharp, deep, purposeful. You’d have to write that down… for research purposes of course. When you pull yourself back to reality, no longer lost in the swirl of his irises, you realize he’s staring at you, and has been for some time.

“Do… can I-” he speaks, throat dry, and scoots himself closer. “May I kiss you…?” His voice is soft, so soft, scared.

“...Yes.” You answer, naturally, impulsively, voice just as soft. When Akira leans forward, and softly presses his apprehensive lips to yours, you feel like you’ve been set on fire. Your mind begins to go crazy, while your body is frozen. It’s not that you didn’t like it, some part of you did. You wanted more, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t real. You didn’t truly like him… right? This kiss was fake, for research purposes… to cure writer’s block…

...right?

You were frozen more from guilt than nerves. Weren’t first kisses supposed to feel like little butterflies in your stomach? Did he think he owed you this? Were you taking advantage of him at this point? Did he feel forced to kiss you to keep up his end of the bargain?

Akira deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you, begging you to reciprocate. When you didn’t, lost in your own head, he pulls away, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“W-we… we should head home. I’ll walk you…” he sighs. You both stand, make your way back onto the main street from the museum, and are silent the entire walk home.

You think he’s silent because you’ve forced him to think he needs to kiss you, and now regrets his decision. He thinks you’re silent because he’s just forced a kiss upon you, just like some Chad from a movie who can’t understand boundaries. Neither of you know your silence is for the exact same reasons.

Akira drops you off at home with a quiet ‘goodnight,’ and walks home, clearing his head in the cool night air.

“Stupid… jeez… fuckin’ stupid,” he huffs, repirmanding himself. This wasn’t real. You’d stated that from the beginning. This relationship was to benefit your writing, to help him in the Metaverse, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

It was his fault he let himself develop real feelings. He has no right to be sad, to blame you, to get upset. You’d stated the terms from the very start…

Maybe he really was The Fool.

Rank Up…?

＊

The next few weeks are awkward.

Both of you think it’s your fault.

You go on dates like usual, but they are strictly business. You get writing material, he gets advice, no touching, and certainly no kissing. Yusuke joins the group. Things are great… friendly… strained, tense. Akira wonders what the hell he’s doing, if this bond is even worth it. Weeks pass. He feels your bond with him growing, but not in the way he wishes. It felt like all of his other confidants: visit, gain, rank up, gain power, learn. He wonders if he can keep this up. His heart aches. He wants to touch you more, but can’t, wants to tell you more, but won’t let himself.

＊

One rainy night, he calls you, like he often does when you can’t meet up in person, and tells you he can’t do this anymore. You lie, and say you agree. The guilt won’t let you tell him the truth, that you want to end the farce, move onto something more real. You can sense your feelings for him growing stronger each day, and it’s not fair to him. Without fighting, without the big “it’s not you it’s me you” you’re used to reading about in books, you tell him you respect his decision, and it’s over. When Akira hangs up, he finds himself a bit angry inside. You didn’t even try to fight for the relationship. There was a tiny little part of him that hoped you felt anything for him, that maybe it meant something to you. He cries that night, for the first time in a long time. They are angry tears, frustrated ones.

＊

In your bed, you find yourself sitting upright, dead inside, unfeeling, empty. You feel like a part of you is gone, but can’t pinpoint why. You don’t even notice the tears sliding down your own cheeks as you sift through the pack of tarot cards that mysteriously came into your life. You find The Moon, and play with it, twisting it between your fingers before sending it flying across the room like a paper dart. Did this mean you couldn’t hang out with the Phantom Thieves anymore? Were you losing your only in-real-life friends and… boyfriend(?) all in the same day?

You sifted through the cards and gently set aside the Emperor, the Lovers, the Chariot. Then your hand drifted over the Fool. You held it out in front of your face. A dancing man looking up at the sky with a jesters cap perched upon his head smiled back at you.

The start of a great journey, freedom from constraints. Each day is an adventure. Courage, anything can happen. There is a need to experience new things, to let yourself experience the love you deserve. Be willing to take risks.

A sad, thoughtful smile crosses your lips. You turn the card upside down.

If you disregard the repercussions of your actions, you are the Fool. You cannot see the position you’ve put yourself in. Is everything what it seems to be?

A breath catches in your throat, a wave of nausea hitting you. You scramble for your phone, and dial a number.

Silence, ringing, silence.

“...Yeah…?” Akira sniffles. He’s been crying???

“I want… can we talk… can I come over?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s not, we came home way earlier than usual. You’re just using that as an excuse.” You were feeling a little braver than usual, the spirit of the Fool within you. You heard him thinking, a sigh that came through as static.

“Yeah… fine, I’ll be waiting.” Relief washed over you.

＊

When you knocked on the door after speed-walking to Le Blanc, Sojiro let you in with a warm smile. He obviously didn’t know about your falling out with Akria, yet.

“He’s upstairs,” he gestured, exhaustion evident in his voice. You rushed past, thanking him with a small bow of your head. Only now was the inevitable fear starting to sink in. Akira heard footsteps creaking on the stairs. Sojiro never came up unannounced, and with that realization, his back stiffened. Morgana picked up your scent, excusing himself, passing you on your way up the stairs. He could take a hint.

He stood immediately, stepping toward you, stopping halfway. You shrunk into yourself, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira… I wanted to talk…” you muttered.

“You said that… about what?” He was more than a little pissed, but he was always one to hide his temper well.

“Can we sit…?” You gestured to his small sofa. It didn’t feel right to sit on the bed. He hesitated, before shuffling over and sitting next to you. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Oh, there were so many things, but he wanted to know what you thought was worth apologizing over. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, he dialed back his attitude a tad.

“For… making you enter into the agreement in the first place. Someone’s affections, their love, their touch and body… it’s not something that can be forced. It should never be pretend.” You felt like the biggest hypocrite ever right now. His head shook a bit in disbelief, blinking hard.

“I wasn’t pretending!” His hands flew to his hair, mussing it. “That was the problem.” He sighed heavily.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I wasn’t being forced… are you… you must be the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.” He laughed cynically.

“But-”

“Wait, wait, why did you think I ended our” he put air quotes up, “ ‘fake’ relationship.” He needed this clarification, now. For closure, for redemption, to fix things, whatever may come next.

“Because… because I was forcing you to date me! You were uncomfortable?!” You could feel your voice begin to break, tears clawing to escape. You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself as you did right now.

“Are you serious?” He took both of your hands, looking you in the eyes. You nod. “Answer truthfully. Do you have feelings for me? Real ones?” You bit your lip, that feeling of selfish guilt creeping like bile up your throat. You nod again. “This whole time?” Another nod. He releases you, turning away. “Sheesh, maybe I’m the oblivious one here…” he spoke more to himself than to you. You both sat in tense silence, not sure what to do, what to say.

“Akira…”

“It was real to me,” he moved closer, trapping you against the end of the couch.

“Really?” Your heartbeat was going crazy, and he leaned ever so slightly closer, his hand on the back of the couch for support. “I broke up with you because it was hurting me to pretend I didn’t have real feelings for you, and to think you didn’t want me back, not for real. I thought… that you’d always think of me as just some character for your book.”

“No… Akira… had I known you felt this way…” He leaned in further, your noses bumping slightly, clumsily. This time, he felt no discomfort, no hesitation from your side. His heart fluttered in excitement. You could feel his breath on your warm cheeks.

“May I kiss you?” He asked again, a secondary, unspoken question sitting beneath his words.

“Yes.” Your voice was shaky, but you were sure, for once, of what you wanted. His hand went to your back, cradling you into his chest to lay down flat against the couch. With a passion he’d been holding back, he pressed his lips to yours without reservation. You sunk into the warm, plush feeling, tilting your head at a better angle. He kept the kiss soft, shallow, low pressure, looking for you to give him the signal to stop. When your arms reached upward, snaking around his neck and pulling him harder down into you, he groaned softly, barely audible, before passing his tongue over your lips a single time. You parted your lips, allowing him access, and his hand, pale and trembling, came up and found its way under the hem of your shirt, splayed nervously against the smooth skin there.

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kcatta-wodahs · 4 years ago

Text

MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers

Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.

Lucifer

You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.

“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”

He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”

You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”

As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.

Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.

His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.

But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog

Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.

despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident

Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop.

He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down.

But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.

Mammon

“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”

Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.

Lucifer would kill him.

You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.

“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”

And you sneak out the fucking window.

He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.

He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you.

He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death.

He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.

He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.

And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.

So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?

Leviathan

I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.

‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’

‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back

You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.

You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)

‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’

‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’

He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.

How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?

He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers.

Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL.

Beelzebub

He physically carries you around.

He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”

If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away.

But at the same time, he is very easily bribed.

So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.

But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.

If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.

You like having Beel with you.

Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.

But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead.

“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”

“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”

He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.

Asmodeus

“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”

He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.

GREY HAIRS, MC.

Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!

But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.

He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.

That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.

“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”

Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.

And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.

And you just say “he deserved it” every time.

And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.

Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.

dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.

Satan

At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.

I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.

But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.

Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted

Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).

And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you.

And the thing is, this keeps happening.

You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.

You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”

(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)

Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?

No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”.

No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.

Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.

I thought you hated him. Satan, wait.

You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness.

Belphegor

Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.

He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.

But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.”

Frankly, that’s rude, MC.

And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”

He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?

No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.

And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like

Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????

Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC

“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”

You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”

What the fuck MC

When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.

He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.

But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shitposts #obey me crack #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #bast babbles #my writing #obey me headcanons #gender neutral mc #re-reading this makes me vibrate with the need to destroy things #tldr is that humans are fucked up

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hobipaint · 3 years ago

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Graffiti and Chalk - one.

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, eventual fluff?

↳ word count: 4.7K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of attempted murder.

one | two

a/n: this was supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to make it a two shot because inspiration struck at the twelfth hour. This is based on stigma tae, and has massive massive references to hyyh tae as well!! I'm warning you all. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt: chalk drawings. Beta read by @vaekth and @kookiestarlight who are possibly the most supportive and appreciative people I could have asked for, thank you so much!!

You'd thought that being an officer would mean solving cases for people who genuinely needed help. Not hunting around for a missing pumpkin.

"It's round, large, and I think it was slightly squishy, Y/N," the kid who had run up to you exclaimed again, while making gestures for round, large and squishy.

If the kid weren't this adorable, you'd squish him for being too loud at 8 in the morning.

You unlocked the door to your office, taking in the sight of the homey little cubicle that you maintained alone. Being the sole officer in a neighbourhood should be hard work, but in a neighbourhood where practically everybody is asleep? Not as much.

You sighed as you pulled the kid in - who by now had told you that his name was Sungwoo, and he was eight years old. His mother told him that if he ever lost anything precious he should head to the police, so here he was.

"Can you find my pumpkin?" He peered up at you as you tried to get the coffee machine started- well, as well as you can with a kid in the way. "It's round, large and squishy."

"Round, large, squishy. Got it." You smiled wearily at him, seeing how his eyes lit up at the sight of your notebook- the one he obviously thought you wrote your cases in. You took your espresso in a mug, running over to him before he damaged it. He ran over to it, picking it up, dropping it because of its weight and picking it up again.

"Can you write a message for Peter here?" He asked you, eyes wide and round as he stared at the brown leather bound book.

"Peter? I thought we were talking about your pumpkin?"

He nodded vigorously- strong enough to make you worry if his head would fall over. Flopping his hair to the side messily, he scampered to you as you settled in your chair, opening the last page of your book - where you had kept your post-its. "Peter is pumpkin! It's made of something- mom told me-" he put a hand to his head, trying to force his small head to think of big words, "Is it pushy?"

"Do you mean it is a plushie, Sungwoo?" You said, sighing and writing it down on a post-it note and sticking it on your desk.

"Yeah!" His eyes sparkled, and he bent his head down to the paper you gave him to scribble a hasty note for Peter. Once satisfied, he raised his head, giving the chit two pats before turning to you. "It's missing, Y/N. Can you find it?"

"Of course I can," you reassured him the best you could while half-asleep. The boy suddenly pulled you into a hug, happy tears spilling out of his eyes as he murmured thank you's over and over.

You held him for a few more seconds, understanding the worry that the kid would have over his plushie. You didn't understand why he had to bring it to you, though.

You felt a soft yet insistent buzz in your pant pockets all of a sudden, realizing it was your phone. You pulled yourself away from the crying child, and caressed his head while picking up the call.

"Good morning, Officer L/N." The coarse voice of your chief barked at you.

You sighed, not wanting to deal with any of his tantrums right after you dealt with the case of Peter the Pumpkin. "Good morning, Chief."

"I'm arriving at your office in about ten minutes. We have to discuss something important."

You sighed again, hand grabbing Sungwoo's as you led him outside the office. Time to clean up. "Of course, Sir."

"Why is this place so messy?" was the first thing you had to hear in the form of a greeting. When your chief said ten minutes, he clearly meant half an hour.

You'd spent some time clearing up cookie crumbs from your table, dusting any evidence of your multiple ramen packets, arranging the tables in proper order, lining the chairs up, and stuffing all the stuff you couldn't clear into a closet. It seemed clean enough to you.

"I shall clean it, Sir." You bowed your head once, carefully maintaining your expression so that the chief doesn't think of you as any more insolent than he already does.

"It doesn't reflect well upon the force to have a messy office, Y/N. I'm sure you were taught that," he said, pressing his finger to a certain spot on a table, and raising it up to show you. "Dust in our offices speaks of nonchalance. That is the last thing we'd want anyone to think of us is that we're nonchalant."

"I apologise, sir. I shall rectify it."

"I expect you to. Anyways," he said, dusting his hands and moving to another corner of the office, "that is not what I came here for." He settled into the chair- your chair, with the note for Peter the Pumpkin intact.

You prayed for him to ignore it.

"There's been growing signs of vandalism in the neighbourhood you're patrolling, Y/N," The chief said to you in a gruff tone, looking like an angry cat with his whiskers trembling. He wore a scowl to match the whole look. Luckily, his pondering eyes missed out on the missing pumpkin report. "I want you to catch that person. Why isn't it done yet?"

"They were untraceable, Sir. All we could capture was a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Nothing else. There's only graffiti and chalk all over the places he's been at, Sir. I tried looking for clues-"

"Keep looking, then."

"I'm trying, sir. I have asked the owners of all the shops on the street to hand over any CCTV footage they have of the person so that I can analyze it and try to nab him. It is a futile task till now, though."

The chief rubbed his hand hard on his thigh, the sound of his palm scratching against the coarse trouser fabric reaching you. "They are being a menace, Y/N. A nuisance to those who want peace in this neighbourhood. You are supposed to bring that peace for them, not complain about not being able to get that person. That is your job." He looked you directly in the eye, anger clearly visible. "Or would you wish to leave?"

You twitched in anger, forcing yourself to remain calm. The chief had a penchant for transferring those who were unsuccessful in their cases to different stations- the more transfers, the more incompetent you seemed. You had already begun at a relatively low level, and you couldn't afford going lower. You nodded stiffly.

"Any more complaints, and I'd be forced to transfer you somewhere else and hand this case over to someone competent. And you know it wouldn't be safe for your career, Y/N." He rose up from the chair, heading towards the door. "I want it resolved. Soon."

You bowed your head, in a sense of respect for your senior you'd actually never felt. It was annoying, honestly, and your hatred for this man just grew more and more. You had requested since the day of your graduation from the academy to be put in the forensics department - something that actually was your specialty. But no, here you were, patrolling a neighbourhood where the only problem was a kid scribbling on walls and leaving an alphabet behind.

Taehyung kicked a pebble aside, letting it roll aimlessly along the half-paved, half-broken road. "I'm out of green paint, again."

He glanced at the aluminium shutters he had decided to vandalize- no, beautify- today, deciding that the subtle decor of the florist's shop and the grim outside of the tattoo shop - both needed redecorations. He didn't care who was the owner. He didn't care how many reports they filed about the eerie similarities of the vandal to Mrs. Kim's son - they never cared about him before, so they'd never care about him now. That, he was sure of.

His red paint had been used to make the outer petals of a rose that he had dedicatedly been drawing the previous day, until the owner had yelled from his house above for him to stop. That was early, though. 11 AM was a predictable time for a vandal to walk through the streets, spraying graffiti and dusting chalk over every nook and corner until he was satisfied by the art he had created.

His wristwatch ticked three as he picked up his blue paint can. Just a few hours later, but effective enough for the owner to have fallen asleep - Taehyung could definitely justify that by the snores that echoed behind the shutters.

"Reporting. Reporting. Vandal. Street 13. I repeat. Vandal. Street 13."

The cuckoo clock that your mom had gifted you to decorate the less than neat office struck three just when the report came through. Just when you were about to settle for the night.

You pushed your papers aside, leaving the missing car complaint on your table. Holding your baton, slipping your ID into the pocket of your jeans and dusting crumbs off your chiffon blouse, you picked up the radio.

"Street 13. Officer Y/N reporting."

The gruff voice of your chief growled back at you. "The vandal has been found on camera, finally. The florist's CCTV; he sent a complaint. In fact, he's been wandering the streets for half an hour now, Y/N. Where have you been?"

You were about to form a legible enough response, say that the paperwork he had set for you was what consumed your time, but he beat you to it. Sighing into the phone, he said, "Nevermind that. Get to his location immediately, and capture him." His voice stumbled for a second. "Take the taser, just in case."

"Yes sir," you responded meekly, and disconnected the radio.

You looked around for your keys, going past a board full of cases that were never relevant enough to be solved - especially the one of the missing pumpkin. The types of cases you received here made you shudder, this wasn't why you had spent so much time training at the university. You tucked your radio into your jacket as you pushed it on your shoulders, grabbing onto a half-eaten sandwich to satisfy your hunger along the way.

"I have to get that person before he robs me of a chance at the forensics department forever," you thought while speeding towards the location told to you - while maintaining the speed limit, of course. No space for nonchalance.

You'd wanted to finish all your paperwork today and get back to an analysis you were working on - preferably get a nap too. Capturing a neighbourhood graffiti artist- this isn't what you had wanted to do.

This wasn't what Taehyung had wanted to do.

The paint dried off slowly on the metal surface, a small drop of ink trickling down where Taehyung had stopped. The design wasn't matching what he had thought at all, he thought as he stared at it. Time to switch it up.

He picked up the painting from right where he had stopped it - merging blue into the red petals as he was on his way to the centre of the flower. Painstakingly, he traced lines that would capture the delicate curves of the outlines, serving to further merge into the picture.

His vandalism wasn't ugly drawings, nudity, or someone just spraying 'SUCKAZ!' all over a wall. That is for amateurs. His was nuanced art. Art that he couldn't do in the day. The ones he could never showcase in the galleries. The ones he buried in the deepest recesses of his mind, burning a hole into the boxes he stuffed them into. This was his freedom.

Taehyung picked up the black can. Fixing the nozzle in the proper direction, he shook the bottle- once, twice. The paint came out in spurts at first, before settling into a steady spray. Black always enhances everything, doesn't it? Enhancement that never seemed beautiful - it was just there to make it stand out. Be noticed. Be shamed. Be suspected. Look deadly, or even look dead. Even the most innocent faces look devious with black. What's to say his flower would still look alive?

The black slowly spiralled across the expanse of the shutter, coiling over and over in what Taehyung thought could be the leaves. The thorns that held the flower back from reaching the epitome of beauty- at least, outwardly beauty. He detested how overhyped a rose was- just as destructible as all other flowers. Where's the beauty in something temporary?

The green paint can had been used up last time when he had sprayed ivy all over the fashion boutique's doors- all of which had been washed away. A shame, Taehyung thought, and picked up his airbrush. Filling a little green into the small holder, he tested it a few times on the footpath - he'd scrub chalk all over it later on, he still needed to add more to beautify the shops. He carefully painted leaves all over the black he had sprayed, letting them flatten out against the metal at the back and form a protective layer around the rose. Unnecessary by all means.

He then switched to a darker green, picking up the airbrush once again to add some subtlety in the leaves. He watched the spray slowly settle right where he wanted it - paint, unlike his life, was something he had full control of. It was liberating.

Standing back and twirling the can over and over in his hand, Taehyung was somewhat satisfied with what he made. A rose. Simple, overrated. Just like flowers. The leaves stood out more to him, along with the thorns; their prickly points being the focus of the picture. Perfect.

He picked up his personal favorite - a small can of black paint who's nozzle had been crafted by him. Stooping down to the corner of the shutter, he slowly sprayed across it. Black settling on silver gray, one single alphabet. V.

That's it. He was done. Just an hour's work.

He turned to the tattoo artist's shop, the shutter a colourful mess littered with messy black stains and drawings the owner probably thought was hip. Taehyung cringed. How was it possible for an artist to be that bad at decorating their own shop? He walked a few steps back, admiring the size of it and thinking of what he could fill there. Something that would really annoy a tattoo artist- he deserved it after having ruined the shutter like that. Picking up a blade, Taehyung set to scrape away the skulls- which, he found, were stickers. Gross. Peeling them off, he set to chip away at the paint- the soft thunk, thunk of the blade slapping against the metal echoed around him. Hopefully, not too loud.

The metal loudly protested as Taehyung pressed his blade against what seemed to be an outline of a body, done with black, and some random inscriptions that he could notice were wearing away. This had to be really old.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. The blade kept pushing at the layers of colour, forcing them off the metal. He could see glints of silver shining underneath it, dim under the streetlight.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. He kept pushing at the paint, tongue poking out as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had to do it now. There was no other time for him to do this. Now. Now. Now.

The silver suddenly glinted more brightly- a shade impossible under the dull, flickering yellow of the streetlights. White lights created a halo of sorts around him, and Taehyung knew his time was up. He smiled. At least one place got the beauty they deserved.

"Hands up!" A voice yelled behind him, and he could hear a click that definitely sounded like a taser gun.

Looking up, he cursed loudly at everyone and anyone. He could have finished it tonight. His work would have been done, and he would have been on his way. He turned around, annoyance sparking in his eyes with sarcastic acceptance lining his lips in the way they curled. "You found me," he murmured, before letting himself get slammed against the very shutters he was painting.

Fate played wonderful games, and for now, you were its newest loser.

"Name." You spoke, your voice monotone yet clear.

"You know me, Y/N. Don't pretend you don't." Taehyung crooned, smirking while he rotated the glass that rested atop the table.

Your annoyance only grew. When you were told that there was a vandal in the streets, you didn't expect it to be a familiar face.

Kim Taehyung was known to you. Someone who had lived right next door. Someone who had been known as a lovable, obedient boy by the neighbours- you still remembered how your mother would gush about him. Someone you knew, and once, cared for.

Someone who was later only known as the kid who flung a bottle on his stepfather's face and was sentenced for five years - which, in fact, was a misjudgement. He was innocent, and the video of him attacking the man was manipulated. Fake. Edited. Whatever you chose wouldn't be enough to change anything in the past.

Taehyung had come out of jail a changed man, weeping openly in the streets when he heard of his family's fate- what he had heard, though, was something you were unaware of. Two years had since passed, and you no longer heard your mother talking about the Kim's boy. He had simply vanished, for you. No traces anywhere.

But here he was. Kim Taehyung. Alive, breathing. Smirking. And spinning a glass over and over.

"Give that to me." You said, snatching the glass away from him and keeping it aside. Settling into your chair, you pulled your laptop closer once again, mustering the most serious look you can. "I'm not playing around, Taehyung. Talk properly. Behave. You're already in a rough spot."

Taehyung laughed; a mirthless, almost painful laughter. "I can't see how anything can be bad here, officer. With all due respect, of course." He straightened up, still keeping that smirk on his face.

You exhaled your breath slowly, holding back all the words you wanted to hurl at him. "Name?"

"Kim Taehyung."

You typed it in, feeling the way each letter pad was pushed down before you moved over it- momentary, but fulfilling. "Age."

"As of today, 25."

"Job."

"Nothing. Add the official vandal of Street 13 if you want."

You raised an eyebrow, fingers abruptly coming to a stop. "Behave."

"No job, officer." Taehyung said, settling further ahead in his seat and pausing, before speaking again. "Why do you need this though? I already have a criminal record, don't I?"

You turned your face to him, the sudden change in light exposure hurting your eyes. The hurt they felt couldn't possibly fathom the depths of pain you saw churning in Taehyung's eyes, like pits of fire. They were seemingly blank, but you had known him. Known him long enough to know that this wasn't who he used to be. This wasn't him.

"Once you were proven innocent, your record was wiped clean. The manipulators were given the charges that you had." You looked at him while saying this, trying to notice any emotions that would make way to his face. None. No twitching lips, no annoyance in his eyebrows. Just his eyes that seethed anger. "Family?"

"None."

You raised an eyebrow. "None?"

Taehyung groaned, getting up from the chair and turning around, hands on his waist. "Don't make me repeat all that shit again. You know it, Y/N."

"Sit back down, Taehyung." You said, irritated by his tantrums. It was four in the morning, for God's sake. You didn't have the energy to deal with him. "I need details if you want to get out of this without any charges."

"Dead. Most of them. Those who aren't, disowned me as soon as I got into jail. Something about not wanting to be related to a criminal." He said lowly, a gruff tone to his voice as he spoke the last words.

You hummed lowly, not knowing what to say. How do you possibly respond to something like this? You weren't trained for interrogation at university. You specialized in forensics. This wasn't supposed to be your job.

"I'm sorry that happened, Taehyung." You managed after a few moments of silence.

"Don't be." He shrugged, then looked up. "You don't mean it."

"I still need a reason as to why you are destroying the places around here with your graffiti and chalk drawings, Taehyung." You ignored him and continued, rising from your chair to let your sore limbs relax. "Unfortunately, I can't let you leave till you give me a reason."

Taehyung stayed mum, much to your annoyance.

You slammed your hand on the table, a loud slap that stung your hand, but also Taehyung's ears, it seemed. "Reasons. Now."

"I just wanted to."

"Wanted to? So you were voluntarily damaging someone else's property?"

He raised his head to look at you; once, twice. Then with a resigned sigh, he responded. "Yeah. But I was beautifying it."

"A beautification they never asked for?" You said, as Taehyung groaned behind you.

"No one gives a damn, Y/N-"

"The police do." You say, preparing to send a message to your chief over the radio. "Got him."

"The police didn't care when I was innocent in that case, Y/N. Stop pretending like they'll care for me when I'm actually guilty of something."

"That case was mishandled."

"Yeah, Y/N. It was mishandled. But only for you." You turned to him, shocked at the venom that suddenly laced his voice.

In the few seconds that you had turned away from him, his eyes had turned bloodshot. Red rimmed the remaining white of his eyes. "You wouldn't know what it is to be locked up for harming people you loved, Y/N. You wouldn't understand that pain," he murmured, loud enough for you to hear him in the echoes of the office.

You wanted to scream at him. Tell him how he had hurt you. Remind him of all the things you had forced yourself to forget over seven years. The way your heart still hurt for him.

"You're right. I won't understand. So sit here, and explain yourself." You pulled your chair back, seating yourself in it and gazing up at him expectantly.

He was just staring at you- you couldn't say whether his gaze held expectations or disdain. Then, shaking his head, "You're still just as stubborn, aren't you," he said, softly smiling as he slipped into his chair. "Adamant, and so, so confusing."

"You don't know me anymore, Taehyung. Don't pretend. Anyways," you said, turning to your laptop again. "I need-"

"No." He stood up once again- why was he standing? "Answer me, now."

He rested his arms on the table, chest leaning forward to balance himself- and now, you could see the changes he had brought in himself. In place of lean muscle there were defined biceps you could see being flexed. In place of short hair was curly locks that fell until his crown, now hanging over. In place of a cheeky grin that sent your blood rushing to your cheeks was a pair of lips, set tight in one line that sent chills down your spine. There was warmth to him, yes, but it was different. This wasn't the Taehyung you knew.

"You knew that I was back." Your eyes moved back to look into his. And you noticed more changes. Instead of a carefree twinkle, there was dark, brooding black filling his pupils. "You knew. I'd seen you that night."

The night when you had seen him falling to his knees, soaking himself in the rain as he gave his tears as a tribute to the gushing skies. The night he returned. The night you thought he didn't know you.

"I'd seen you after that as well. That day at the convenience store, I'd seen you buying candies. You still buy the same kind, don't you? Lemon flavoured."

The night you gave up on your dreams to become an analyst in the forensic lab for the police. The night where you stared up to question everything you did as your feet soaked in the snow. Two years ago. The night he thought he knew you.

"You're hurting me by not remembering us, Y/N."

"We were nothing to begin with." You cleared your throat, settling further back into your chair. "You asked me on a date, and stood me up. We're nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Taehyung opened his mouth to speak again, but leaned back, standing tall, straight. You almost missed his warmth - no. This wasn't the warmth of a person you had cared for.

"It's so cold outside, Y/N, why haven't you turned on the heater?" Your chief's voice filled the room after a few minutes of absolute silence. Taehyung had taken to leaning on the wall, now, maintaining an anxious distance. "Did you get the man?"

You simply pointed towards Taehyung, watching the chief's face flash with recognition, brows hastily furrowing as a frown formed on his face.

"Kim Taehyung?" Your chief asked, coming up to the two of you. "Is it really you? Are you the vandal?"

Taehyung remained silent, head hung.

The chief inhaled, then exhaled; loud enough for you to hear him - "It is you, isn't it. What happened after the attempted murder case?"

"Proven false, Sir." You informed your superior. For some odd reason, you felt like you had to come to Taehyung's defense.

"I am aware of that, Y/N." The chief said, looking Taehyung up and down. As reported, he was in the navy blue sweatshirt and ripped jeans- and you could see in the clear light of your office that he had ripped the holes into them himself. Something he did before to look fashionable, he used to say.

"I don't really want to put any charges on you, Taehyung. Why did you do it?"

Taehyung spoke, voice gravelly. "It was liberating, Sir."

"You broke the law, though."

"The law broke me, Sir."

The chief took another deep breath and settled onto the chair where Taehyung was sitting just a few moments ago. His wrinkled skin seemed to age even more. Taehyung was close with the chief as a student, that you knew- you had seen him going multiple times to his office to get clarifications after class. You wondered how the chief felt - did he feel the same sting of recognition you had felt?

"I don't want you to get any charges, Taehyung," he said, before laughing and adding, "all these years, and I still have my student in my head."

He stood up and turned to face Taehyung again, worry reflecting in his eyes as he held him by the shoulders. "You're still the Taehyung I know, right?"

Taehyung looked away, down, his face coming in your line of vision - you could see the small rivulets that flowed from the pool of emotions in his eye, down the lines that worry, anger and disbelief had formed on his face. Sniffing softly, he turned back to the chief. "Yes, Sir."

The chief visibly relaxed, his arms coming down to his sleeves, gripping Taehyung. "Good. I hope it remains that way."

He returned to his stern stance, and faced you. "I suggest you keep him here for the night, Y/N." he looked outside, the sky just turning sapphire. "I shall return in the morning to talk. Get some rest while you're at it. And Taehyung? Eat something."

The chief swiftly departed the office, and Taehyung slumped into the chair. "Seven years, and the old man still remembers me," he laughed mirthlessly, lips twisting in an amused smile. "Always appreciated him."

"And so did he," you mentioned. Taehyung was always brought up as a comparison for your batch of officers to emulate. Even when he was in jail, he was remembered among you as a diligent student and worker. "'Remember his good', he used to say. He always remembered you."

"And you?" He suddenly looked at you. His eyes were no longer bloodshot - there were small remnants of anger, but all you could see was wistfulness. "Did you remember me, Y/N?"

a/n: yup, I stopped there. Do leave some feedback if you liked it- in the comments, or as an ask! Also, if you wish to be tagged for the next part, you can ask for that too! Thank you for giving your time to this fic,, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! love, hazel💞

masterlist

116 notes · View notes

moral-turpitudes · 4 years ago

Text

Little White Lies:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Unsupportive/Jealous Family Members, Fighting, Swearing, Fluff, etc.

Word Count: 4,266

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon, you can find it here. (this was such a fun request, I hope I did it justice lol)

Summary: From dealing with unsupportive and envious family members, to being caught in a lie, Y/N is forced to face her family and confront her feelings about her boss, all thanks to a wedding invitation.

“What do you mean you’re working as a secretary? I put in a perfectly good recommendation for you last month at the hospital!” Y/N’s father yelled as she made her way into the living room of her parents house. The old walls poorly concealing their loud arguing.

“Did you stop and think about how maybe I don’t want to follow in you and Margaret’s footsteps? I thought you’d at least be happy I’ve found something I like! But no, it’s not good enough for you aye? Nothing I do ever is...” Y/N yelled back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“Let’s face it, you and mum both like Margaret better because she has a “respectable job” as a doctor just like you. You pushed her off to the best schools, and only approve of her boyfriend because he’s a classy businessman.” She said lighting a cigarette.

“See? You’re already picking up bad habits Y/N. We just want the best for you.” Her mother said, plucking the cigarette out of her fingers and throwing it into the fireplace as her father looked to the ground with his arms folded.

“A secretary job is respectable. I keep the company from crashing down half the time.” She said.

“And what company is that? One where they shove you in a dark room to type papers all day?” Her mother scoffed back.

“Shelby Company Limited. It’s quite nice actually.” She said with a smirk.

“Isn’t that where the Peaky Blinders run the streets? I bet you’re dating one of them for christ’s sake!” Her father yelled, turning away from his daughter in disgust.

“What if I am?” She asked, balling her hands into fists at her sides.

“Who is it? I’ll get you transferred out in no time. No daughter of mine is working as a damn secretary in fucking Small Heath.” He said.

“Thomas Shelby.” She said, his name escaping her lips before she could think about what she’d done.

Her father tensed up at his name. His face paling in complexion as he sat down, his wife eyeing him with concern.

“The Thomas Shelby?” He asked, more quietly than before as if he was being watched.

“Mhmm. What is there a problem?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“No...are you sure it’s him? He practically owns half of Birmingham. Although his reputation is not something I’m fond of...I guess if you legally work for him that’s...respectable.” He said, his tone softer and more accepting than earlier.

“Right, so now that I’m dating an infamous businessman, I’m more respectable as a secretary? Why the sudden change? I’m doing quite well on my own with this job.” She said as she observed his rigid body language. He hesitated to speak, remembering when the two older Shelby’s came in half-alive after being shot up by a rival gang.

“Well, given his reputation and my practice, I may have had a few run-ins with him at the hospital. It’s common knowledge not to get in their way but I did. I made him and his bastard of an older brother stay a week to heal after saving their asses.” He said, an annoyed look on his face.

“He threatened your father Y/N. We couldn’t even tell the coppers. But...please don’t get too proud over your position there darling. Your words could come back to you and he could find someone else by sundown.” Her mother said with a nice tone, trying but failing to take the sting out of her words.

She’d always been jealous it seemed. Seeing her daughters getting to achieve things that she couldn’t. Being led to a life of homemaking and hosting parties for her wealthy doctor of a husband. They never amassed the wealth like the Shelby family had, but they were able to afford a decent sized house in London, if that was any indication of her family’s status.

After a long, tense silence, she decided to leave. Saying a quick and frustrated goodbye to her parents before heading back to Small Heath. Her heart racing at the realization that she just openly told her parents she was dating her boss. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if it were true, but alas it was nothing but a white lie. She had always been quiet on the subject despite them getting along well. Polly could see a connection, which she’d mentioned to her over tea various times, but she always shrugged it off. And now she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to tell him the truth.

As a few weeks passed, she continued with her clerical duties. Filing papers and reporting things to Thomas as usual. Until she got a call from home once again, requesting her presence immediately.

“Why do you all need me here anyway? I could be working right now.” Y/N said, impatiently tapping her foot on the lavish rug lining the hardwood floors of the living room.

“We wanted to give you this.” Her father said, flicking an envelope at her that she barely had time to catch.

The envelope was a light green color - her older sister Margaret’s favorite - with an intricately written invitation inside.

“Thomas Shelby and Y/N Y/L/N,

We cordially invite you to attend the union of Matthew Reynolds and Margaret Y/L/N. Formal attire will be expected at both the ceremony and reception.”

Her eyes grew wide at the invitation as she realized her parents must’ve told her sister about Thomas. Knowing nothing she did was ever kept private, unfortunately. But in that moment she knew she messed up, thinking about how she’d have to tell them it was all a lie. That she wasn’t dating the infamous gang leader. A feeling of panic and embarrassment washed over her as she realized the gravity of the situation.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her mother said.

“Y-yeah. Wasn’t expecting Margaret to invite me, let alone um...Thomas to her wedding. Are you all attending?” She asked nervously.

“Well of course! We can’t miss our best daughters wedding day.” Her mother said, not knowing how her words cut into Y/N.

“You’re loved as well. Your mother didn’t mean that. No one would dare disrespect a woman associated with Thomas Shelby. Right dear?” He said, hastily reassuring his daughter and looking at his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh darling I didn’t mean it like that. We love both of you. I’m sorry...I’ll do better I promise.” She said giving her daughter a light hug.

“Please do. I’ll see you at the wedding.” Y/N said harshly, leaving the house in a hurry as she clutched the green envelope in her hand.

A week had passed since she’d set the invitation on her desk at work. The paper easily seen from anyone near her desk as not many envelopes were that color. It cost too much to make them given the financial troubles of the past few years, but of course her sister could afford it.

It was midnight though when Thomas walked by her desk out of habit, the lamp still on while Y/N had left for the night. The faint yellow glow illuminating the envelope as he raised an eyebrow at it. He quickly picked it up, reading the intricate handwriting on the letter inside as he noticed his name next to hers.

The next morning, Y/N walked to her desk to see that the invitation was missing. Her stomach doing flips as she wondered where it had gone.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Thomas said as he leaned against the doorframe, his tailored suit catching her off-guard for a moment as she glanced at the man her heart ached after. Polly giving her a questionable glance and a small, knowing smirk as she walked reluctantly into his office.

He knew. He knew about the letter and she was dumb enough to leave it there last night. Dumb enough to lie to her parents. Dumb enough to harbor any feelings for the man who certainly wouldn’t admit any himself.

“Y/N...” He said, his low voice ripping her from her racing thoughts as she stood by the door.

“Y-yeah sorry. Busy morning. What do you need Tommy?” She asked, nervously fiddling with her hands.

“I need to discuss something with you. Please sit.” He said, walking over to his plethora of whiskey glasses and filling two of them with the brown liquid he loved so much. If anything, he’d probably marry a bottle of whiskey if he could.

“What is it you want to discuss?” Y/N asked, sipping from her glass as it burned its way down her throat.

“I found this on your desk. I know it wasn’t my business to go taking things, but I couldn’t help but notice my name was mentioned with yours...so now...it is my business.” He said, observing how she grew uncomfortable under his gaze, drinking more as she shifted in her seat.

“It’s a long story.” She said blankly while setting the glass down, wanting to flee out the door never to come back.

“And for once I have the time.” He said leaning backing in his chair and lighting one of his many cigarettes.

Y/N sighed and relaxed back into her seat, her heart skipping a beat as she thought of the best way to explain it to him.

“Alright...so my family is a bit backwards as you know. And happen to just adore my older sister Margaret. They funded her schooling, attended her graduations and awards ceremonies, and they uh...like that she’s dating - I mean - engaged to a businessman now. He’s what they consider successful.”

“Successful aye? What...they don’t think some razor-gang from Birmingham is successful?” He asked.

“No.” She answered, looking out the window as she continued.

“Anyway, when I visited them, they started saying things about the company and how my job wasn’t respectable. I tried to shut them down but um, my father accused me of dating one of ya, like it was a disgrace to the family. So I panicked and said that I wasn’t dating just any of them, I was dating you.” She said, looking down at the nearly empty glass in her trembling hands.

“What’d he say to that aye?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his usually stoic face.

“Oh his whole demeanor changed. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. He um...said he knew of you. Said he treated you and Arthur for a week after a bad night on the job.” She said, nervous he’d go after her father.

“Aye I remember him. A bit mouthy that one.” He said.

“You threatened him though. Why?” She asked, her nervousness turning to a bit of anger at the thought of him harming her parents, even if they weren’t the best.

“They wanted to report it to the coppers. And as you know now, we don’t deal too kindly with snitches. So I had to threaten him. To keep the peace.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke towards her.

“I wouldn’t say peace. Fear would be a better word.” She said, sipping the last of her whiskey.

“It’s worked out for me so far.” He said.

“Yes it has Tommy...but I have one question.” She said.

“Mhmm?”

“Are you wanting to go to this bullshit wedding or not?” She asked bluntly, hoping her interrogation would be over soon.

“That depends. Are you going? You don’t seem too fond of your family.” He said.

“I’m only going out of love.” She said.

“Well in that case, I am too.” He said, jotting down the address to the ceremony on his calendar with a star on the day, his heart racing despite his cold exterior. He’d harbored feelings for her too, and Polly could see it, often questioning him when Y/N would leave for the night, but he always blew her off due to peaky business.

“Wait...you actually want to go to such a horrid thing...with me?” She asked.

“And pass up a date with my favorite secretary? Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, a small smirk hinting at his lips which seemed almost out-of-place.

“Date? Are you sure this isn’t some small business deal? You aren’t just agreeing for money or to pity me?” She asked.

“No Y/N...I’m agreeing because I like you. Always have...just never had the time to tell you till now. Now go back to your work before Polly gets even more suspicious.” He said, admitting his feelings like it was nothing as she stood there dumbfounded.

“R-right.” She said sheepishly as she made her way back to her desk, a small smile on her face as Polly watched her. Knowing something had finally gone down between them.

A week into their newfound relationship, the day had finally come and Thomas escorted her inside the wedding chapel, her black dress complimenting his suit nicely. Her mother scoffing as she sat near her, wondering why the hell she’d wear a black dress to a wedding.

“You know black is for funerals...didn’t I teach you anything?” She asked quietly to where only Y/N could hear.

“I’m just marking the death of any peace that was left between this family. I know you both will start hounding me with questions in no time now that Margaret’s spoken for.” She said quietly, staring into her mother’s cold eyes. There’s always been a tension between them, but it seemed even a joyous occasion such as this couldn’t cut it.

“You alright love?” He asked, holding her hand in his as she stared blankly at the alter, waiting for the ceremony to start.

“It’s just my mother. She can’t put aside our differences for one fucking day.” She said quietly. Her mother leaning over to insert herself into the conversation.

“It’s nice meeting you Mr. Shelby. You’re more than welcome to sit with us at the reception.” Her mother said as she watched her daughter talk to the infamous blinder.

“Thank you Mrs. Y/L/N, we’d love to. Right Y/N?” He asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Love is one word for it I suppose.” She said, her jaw tensing as she saw her father approaching their seats.

“Glad to see you again Mr. Shelby, given this time it’s under better circumstances.” He said, shaking his hand firmly.

“Indeed it is Mr. Y/L/N.” He said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and sticking it between his lips.

Her father soon resigned himself from the tense situation by sitting near his wife, who was eyeing the dashing blinder who smoked where he pleased.

“Can you believe she’s dating him? They look like they’ve only just started.” She whispered to her husband.

“If I have to accept him for professional reasons, you can accept him for our daughter. Enough with the snide remarks. Our lives might as well be at stake if he were to hear us...his threat still stands.” He said, knowing that his youngest daughter and her mother always had a tense relationship since her birth. It wasn’t particularly successful, only saving them in the knick of time from complications. Little did he know he was more so the heart of the family, albeit a dysfunctional one.

“They’re talking about me I know it.” Y/N said, fidgeting with her hands as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Margaret taking more than her sweet time getting ready.

“Let them talk then. It can only hurt you if you let it.” He said.

“Now, she better be dressed to the nines because this is the longest I’ve ever waited for a wedding ceremony.” He added, seeing a smirk forming on her face.

“Oh just you wait.” She said jokingly. The music catching everyone’s attention as they all looked on, and surely enough she was dressed to the nines, the whole tailoring industry probably coming together to complete the lavish gown.

“What is this the royal fucking wedding?” She asked, hearing him chuckle quietly under his breath.

As Margaret neared the altar with her father handing her off with a kiss on the cheek, she took a look at her fiancé and then turned toward Y/N, giving her a small smirk that made her stomach churn.

“What was that for?” Thomas whispered quietly, noticing the interaction.

“She’s rubbing salt in an old wound. She’s as bad as my mother.” She said, flicking her off silently. Thomas quickly placed his hand over hers to stop her from escalating the already tense situation. Her mother giving her a scolding look that she ignored, her blood boiling with the fact she was flaunting her status in front of her.

It seemed like forever before the vows ended, the tired crowd clapping and dispersing after the couple ran happily out the door of the church and to the nearby reception. With Y/N and Thomas lagging behind, not wanting to enter the horrendous venue.

“We can leave the reception early if you’d like. Maybe go somewhere more entertaining.” He suggested as they watched the couple parade around the room. Her sister quickly bringing her husband over to where they were standing.

“Y/N, love I’m happy you made it! We were scared you weren’t going to show.” She said giving her younger sister a careful hug as not to disturb her dress.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister...I can’t exactly avoid you forever.” She said a small smile on her lips.

“You never told me you snagged such a......man. Where did you two meet?” She asked, shaking Thomas’ hand as her husband did the same. Margaret wary of the cold stare he gave her and Matthew.

“At work.” Y/N said shortly, not appreciating her attitude.

“Look at that, my baby sister finally has a job. What is it? A teacher? a factory worker? a nurse perhaps?” Margaret asked.

“A secretary.” Y/N said, staring the bride down the best she could hoping her gaze could silence her before she made a show of it all.

“A secretary? Hmm. Well that’s good I guess. Just be careful though, those secretaries have to sleep their way to the top you know.” She said. Y/N’s face burning as she turned away from Thomas, wanting to run out and never look back.

Thomas cleared his throat and put his hand on the small of her back as she tensed her jaw, reluctantly turning back to her snake of a sister.

“How would you know? Is that how you got to your position?” She snapped back, the anger rising in her chest. She wished she could have captured her sisters expression in a photograph, her words finally cutting into her like she wanted.

“I assure you she isn’t doing anything of the sort. In fact, she’s an integral part of the company already. But if I were you I wouldn’t say too much else.” Thomas said, a dark tone to his voice as he kept a level head between the sibling rivalry that was happening by the second.

“Oh and who are you to threaten me? What’s this company you speak of? My parents never mentioned it.” She said, her husband whispering in her ear that they had to go. The poor man hated the situation just as much as Y/N.

“That was probably to protect you Margaret. You see...you’ve always been a bit reckless with new information. So I doubt you knew what father got himself into.” Y/N said.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, grabbing a glass of expensive champagne as the server walked by.

“He got in my way...and no one gets in Thomas Shelby’s way. It cost me some of my men. So, like I said, if I were you...I wouldn’t say much else.” He threatened again, her fiancé swallowing hard as he led his flustered wife away to mingle with the other guests.

“Why can’t you both get along?” Her father asked, walking over to the pair.

“I’ve done my part with both her and mum. But...I’m not staying where I’m not valued. I love you all but, we have to go. Send Margaret and Matthew our....warmest regards, yeah?” She asked taking Thomas’ hand and leading him out the door. Her father stood there with a tense look on his face, knowing his family had gotten themselves on bad terms with the Shelby’s once again.

With frantic footsteps she walked to the car, tears flooding down her face as she got in herself, not bothering to wait for him to open the door.

“You didn’t have to stick up for me, but thank you.” She said wiping her tears away as he started the car.

“Yeah.” He said, lighting a cigarette before taking off. He wasn’t much for accepting thanks, at least since the war.

“Are they like that all time?” He asked after a long pause.

“Mhmm. Now you see why I don’t see them unless I have to. They just remind me of everything I’m not.” She said, looking out the window at the evening sky.

“That I do. I’ll be sending them something later, don’t worry.” He said.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her stomach dropping as she pictured him killing her family.

“You’re not going to kill them are you?” She asked.

“No...they’re not worth my time. At least not now anyway. And besides...I wouldn’t want to hurt you more than they already have.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips.

“Tommy look, I know my father got in your way on a mission and I know he made you stay longer than you wanted to...but you can’t blame him for doing his job. He was trying to help. He may not be the best, although he’s far nicer than my mother and sister, so if anything, please spare him at least. That’s all I ask.” She said.

“Like I said, they’re not worth my time now, love. If they continue bashing you and my family for how we do business I’ll let you know first alright? But I can’t let them off without a warning, so I’ll send them a letter alright?” He said.

“Well it better be good then. That’s the last I want to hear of this feud. I can deliver it to them if it will help...to make a point at least.” She said.

“Take this then, it won’t be good.” He said giving her a handgun from his jacket.

“I’m not shooting my family Tommy!” She said loudly as they approached the Garrison.

“It’s not for them. It’s for you. They’re not the nicest people and I want you safe. Especially since you work for us now. If they hurt one of us they hurt all of us alright? I know that’s not what you want to hear but it’s how this business works. Now...let’s go have some fun aye.” He said, helping her out of the car and into the bar that was teeming with people from the shop.

“Oi! How’d the wedding go? You’re both home early.” Arthur asked, handing them both a glass of whiskey.

“Terrible. Tommy’s writing a letter tomorrow to put them on their toes.” She said.

“Did they say summin’ about ya?” He asked.

“Yes...and about the company.” Thomas added.

“I thought we told him last time that we’d blind him.” Arthur said, an angry look in his eyes.

“Aye we did. But that didn’t account for her mother and sister. They have a way with words don’t they love?” Thomas asked.

“Mhmm. I’m delivering it, maybe then they’ll take what they say more seriously next time.” She said.

“We can only hope.” Thomas said, snaking an arm around her waist as they spent the rest of the night at the Garrison before going to their respected homes, too worried about the mission to do anything else.

The next week, Thomas signed the end of the letter, his hand cramping from the amount of things he’d written. Wanting to make sure his threat came off clear as day.

“Here Tommy, put this in with it.” Y/N said, handing him a lone razor blade, making him raise an eyebrow.

“Just in case they want to make anymore remarks, they can do us a favor and blind themselves. Like you said, they’re not worth your time now.” She said with a small smirk.

He took a sip of his whiskey and pointed to her with a grin, ushering her to come over to him.

“I like how you think.” He said, pulling her close and kissing her lips ever so lightly. The feeling between them almost electric as they departed.

“I’ll go take care of this, you go on with your business.” She said, as he handed her the letter.

“You know how to shoot?” He asked.

“Mhmm. Been practicing with John.” She said with a smirk.

“Alright, love you.” He said, as he caught himself muttering those words out sooner than he wanted to. But the truth was he couldn’t stand to see her go, not without knowing she was safe.

She stood there for a moment, looking at him as a smile spread across her face.

“I love you too.” She said before walking out the door to drive to the dreaded house she grew up in. Hoping this letter would keep them at bay for once in her life. Knowing her only chance at freedom from her family’s binds were through the doors of the shop and in the arms of the man she loved.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #katiesanons #katiesrequests #katiesfics #katieswiplist #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x y/n

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peachyteez · 4 years ago

Text

angel nurse ≫ DAY(6) SIX, ARE YOU HAPPY?

this fox hybrid was brought into the recovery facility covered in scratches, whip marks, blood, and every other injury you could imagine. due to this, yeosang has trouble trusting humans, as he was afraid they could just hurt him all over again. until he meets jiyu, his “angel nurse”.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight, @everrrlasting, @bls-luv-me, @atzgiggle, @arohabyeol, @rainbowmagicpixecorn, @soverystupid, @ayetothezee, @kingalls00, @sanstreasure0305, @sparklingmallow, @peachseok

✧ notes: courtesy of a certain someone for the day6 reference :)

back。| next。

“yeosang, hello,” jiyu peeked in with a smile and wave. behind her were four other hybrids. they peeked out from behind her and made eye contact with the fox hybrid.

yeosang waved back, suddenly feeling wary again with the new presences in the room, even if they were his own kind. maybe i’m more shy than i thought...

“just like i promised, i brought these four babies with me today,” she teased, earning a ‘hey!’ from mingi.

yeosang now understood why jiyu wasn’t so worried for the bunny hybrid as other people were; the bunny was at least six feet tall, towering above the other predator hybrids. except for the golden–retriever, he seemed to be the same height.

seonghwa slowly approached yeosang and stared at him. he’s heard so much about this fox hybrid being his “twin”, now he wanted to see for himself.

yeosang, on the other hand, remembered jiyu’s comment from the previous day about him being similar to the wolf hybrid. just how similar were they for her to associate them with each other?

the two tilted their heads in the same direction as they observed each other. both of their eyes widened and they pointed to each other. “you’re me,” they both said, before slapping a hand over their mouths. they both seemed so fascinated, and slightly terrified, that they were mirroring each other right from the getgo.

hongjoong, yunho, mingi, and jiyu watched the scene in awe. jiyu didn’t realize they were that similar. “pfft—” they all stifled their laughter.

the other three could now understand why jiyu called yeosang his twin by just looking at him. the two possessed the same intimidating face but once they opened their mouths, they were just soft little kids on the inside.

“a–are you sure you guys weren’t separated at birth?” yunho asked, trying to suppress his chuckles feom spilling out.

“i’m an only child, i swear!” they both shouted before staring at each other in awe once again.

jiyu couldn’t hold it in anymore and she burst out into laughter that brought a smile to everyone’s faces. “o–oh my god, t–this is priceless!” she managed to squeeze out in between her laughter. “i–i knew you guys were similar to a certain extent...b–but this blows my expectations!”

yeosang shyly scratched the back of his neck and looekd away; his cheeks and the tips of his human ears flushed pink. seonghwa mirrored his expression as he turned towards jiyu.

“j–jeez, it’s not that funny,” he mumbled, seeing the other three trying to suppress their chuckles and snickers as well.

“‘i’m an only child!’” hongjoong mimicked as he chuckled. “seems like you and the fox hybrid are soulmates at the moment.”

jiyu calmed down and took a few breaths to stabilize herself. “anyways, yeosang. that’s seonghwa. the tiger hybrid is hongjoong, the golden–retriever is yunho, and the bunny is mingi. they’re all my little fur balls.”

‘d–did she call is fur balls?’ the four sweatdropped as the same thought ran through their minds.

“guys, this is yeosang. remember to be careful if you play with him since his wounds are still healing,” she reminded them.

yeosang quickly glanced at hongjoong. he was always curious about the tiger hybrid from seojin’s stories. by the looks of it, he seemed like he was indeed thriving; the genuine smile said it all. as a matter of fact, all of their smiles spoke for them.

“ji,” yeonjun called as he poked his head into the room. “can you help me sort these papers? i need to process them into the system but they’re all mixed,” he asked, carrying in a three, thick folders filled with various documents.

“jeez, who hated you enough to give you that?” she joked, yelping when yeonjun poked her side. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” she chuckled. “yeah, i’ll help you. come in here.” she cleared the table so they could work on re–organizing the documents.

yeosang observed her from his bed, almost forgetting the presence of the other four with them.

“what are you thinking about?” yunho asked, making the fox hybrid flinch at the sudden reminder than he wasn’t alone.

“n–nothing...just...she’s really nice,” he mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers. “i was kind of mean to her the first few days but yet she still came back to talk to me.”

seonghwa nodded, stealing a quick glance at her as she flipped through the papers. “yeah...she didn’t give up on us either, no matter how violent or stubborn we were.”

“it’s her charm, though!” yunho piped up.

“yeah, but she’s too nice sometimes...she could end up helping the wrong people,” yeosang mindlessly mumbled. there were a lot of malicious people out there, there was always a possibility of it happening.

the four sweatdropped again as they remembered the various incidents of jiyu showing her “scary” side when it came to protecting the ones she loved; when she changed into a whole different person in front of yunho’s former owners, and when she tracked down mingi’s former owner and managed to retrieve his adoption forms.

“i–i don’t think we have to worry about that,” mingi sheepishly laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

yeosang didn’t question it. after all, he didn’t know her as well as they did.

“this might be an insensitive question,” hongjoong said from the window, “but where will you go after leaving here?”

yeosang grew silent at the question. truthfully, he didn’t even know himself. he could follow the facility protocol of having to be transferred to the adoption floor, and potentially finding a new family.

the only problem was...he couldn’t see himself with another family. it had taken him so long to trust jiyu, he didn’t want to imagine trying again with other people. he knew they’d grow impatient with his personality and just throw him out, heck, maybe even return him.

“...i’m not sure. probably just go with the flow and be put up for adoption.”

the four wordlessly glanced at each other. he didn’t sound convincing; rather, it sounded like he was convincing himself to go along with the facility protocol. seonghwa and hongjoong were in his shoes at one point.

seonghwa quietly sighed. “do you feel happy with jiyu?” he asked.

“...define happy,” yeosang mumbled, looking at each and every one of them. “is that how you all feel with her?”

yunho and mingi enthusiastically nodded. “she makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside!” mingi declared. “it’s a really good feeling. i could never imagine someone else adopting me.”

“that’s one way of putting it,” hongjoong chuckled at the bunny hybrid before looking at yeosang. “but yes, it’s a warm feeling. she provides us with everything we all lacked in our previous homes,” hongjoong said, quickly peeking in jiyu and yeonjun’s direction. “it’s like...you feel safe around her. like nothing could ever hurt you again.”

and yeosang wasn’t going to lie. he did feel that. he felt all the warmness and fuzziness thst mingi described, he felt safe like nothing would harm him again; but most of all, he felt cared for. he felt appreciated.

his old owners only appreciated him for his monetary value, but with jiyu, he felt a different type of appreciation. like she cared about him for him; the fox hybrid that was shy around others, the fox hybrid that loved drawing little made–up characters called hehetmon.

“i think he found his answer,” seonghwa chuckled.

“what was the point in asking me all that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “to test me?”

yunho shoved a paper up to his face, making yeosang flinch and fall back into the bed. d–did i just flinch from paper? that’s a new low for me.

“yunho! be careful!” hongjoong quietly scolded the puppy.

“oops...sorry,” yunho sheepishly apologized before handing yeosang the paper instead. “this was all of our ideas!” he smiled.

yeosang read the contents of the paper and he almost made his heart rate monitor go haywire from the emotions he felt. the four panicked at the sporatic beeping sounds.

jiyu and yeonjun’s heads snapped up at the sound, concern written across their face. “what’s the matter, yeosang?” she asked, hastily approaching him. recognizing the form in his hands, she lightly gasped.

“well, this is awkward...u–um, you weren’t supposed to see that yet—”

the four sheepishly looked to the ground. had they messed up?

“c–can i really?” yeosang quietly asked, his eyes never leaving the paper. “can–can i really go home with you?”

in his hands was yet again, another filled out adoption form.

seeing the form was the final push for him, the final piece of the puzzle. that he really did feel happy with jiyu. and that he was hesitant about being adopted by other people because he was so used to jiyu’s presence around him. like mingi had said, he couldn’t imagine being adopted by anyone else.

jiyu gently smiled. “i didn’t want to force it onto you so i never said anything,” she explained before putting a hand in his head. “but we all discussed about it two nights ago about bringing you home with us. although, after today,” she playfully glared at the four hybrids were peeking out from behind yeonjun, “i think they grew a little impatient about bringing the topic up.”

yeosang felt a rush of emotions. maybe fate really did feel bad for him and decided to not throw him under the bus. maybe fate really was nice, after all.

“i–if it’s not too much trouble,” he shyly mumbled, “th–then i accept your offer,” he said, a small smile spreading across his face. jiyu smiled back; this was the first time she’s seen him smile.

“seonghwa’s twin’s coming home!” hongjoong jokingly declared, patting seonghwa’s back. yunho and mingi cheered along.

seonghwa sighed, but no one could deny the smile he was trying to hide. “i’m not going to try.”

yeonjun looked back. “so how long am i going to be used as a shield?”

#9th member of ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #kang yeosang #kang yeosang imagines #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #ateez yeosang #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #ateez au

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harryhandstan · 4 years ago

Text

a styles family christmas

I’m sorry this is late and shorter than I wanted but I couldn’t let the year end without a little holiday celebration from my favorite family! Linking the other parts of the series below so you can re-visit them if you choose but please don’t feel like you have to. Enjoy!

Thank you to @tbslenthusiast, @bfharry, and @iconicharry for the encouragement to finish this!! also miss zoey @milfzaynmalik is to thank for the super fluffy ending thank you love!

I Want Your Belly - Wonderful and Warm - Washed Away in You - Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

word count: 3.1k

writing tag | masterlist

The crackle of Sterling’s whimpers filtering through the baby monitor wakes you. You’re slipping your feet into your slippers before you realize that Harry’s side of the bed is empty, his voice joining the growing distress of your son.

“S’all this about, bub? Too early to be makin’ so much noise, son.”

You can tell even through the speaker of the monitor that Harry’s still half asleep. Sterling’s cries become slightly muffled, you’re sure by Harry holding his son to his chest now to try to soothe him.

“Let’s see if daddy can figure out what’s wrong before we have to wake mumma, hmm?”

By the time you make it down the hall to Sterling’s room, Harry’s already got him changed and mostly re-dressed in his Christmas pajamas, delicately trapping one of Sterling’s feet to put the red sock back on his foot that probably came loose while Harry was changing him. Your son was much like their father, never one to stay still for long.

“Getting pretty good at this dad thing, H. That may be a new diaper changing record for you.”

Harry flashes you a sleepy smile, placing kisses on each of Sterling’s cheeks as he coos happily up at the two of you.

“Look what you did, bub. Told ya y’were being too loud,” He drums his fingers along Sterling’s tummy before bending to kiss your cheek the same sweet way he did his son’s, “Sorry, love. Meant to turn the monitor off so we wouldn’t wake you.”

“It’s okay, it’s time for him to eat again so the alarm would’ve woken me anyway.”

He helps you get everything set up to nurse, gently gripping your shoulders before kissing your cheek again, “You feed bubs, I’ll go make coffee and breakfast.”

You nod an agreement and he’s already made it out the door, preparing to make his way down the stairs before the statement registers in your brain, “Wait what? Why? Harry..it’s 4 a.m.”

He pokes his head back around the doorway, “S’Christmas morning. Don’t you want coffee before we do presents?”

You sigh, keeping your grip tight on Sterling as you let your head fall back to rest against the chair.

“Harry, I promise I will love and appreciate anything you got me just as much, if not more, when I’ve had a little more sleep.”

“Who says all the presents under the tree are for you, princess. Some of them are for Sterling and you and I both know it takes at least an hour to settle him back down after an early feeding so..thought we’d do Christmas early while he’s more alert.”

“What do you mean some..we only got him one thing. We agreed we wouldn’t go overboard with his first Christmas since he’s so young, remember?”

“I remember it as more of a suggestion than an agreement, really.”

The grin that spreads across his face tells you all you need to know. He definitely went overboard to spoil you both and your eyes grow misty with tears at what you’ll see when you venture downstairs later.

“I know how grumpy you get when you don’t get enough sleep though, so if y’really wanna wait til’ later..”

“We can do it now,” You interrupt, “But I just don’t want you to be disappointed when you don’t get a big reaction from Sterling, alright? You have to remember he’s only 7 weeks old.”

His face lights up, child-like wonder written across his features. He crosses the room quickly to smack you with another kiss, to the top of your head this time, “Meet you downstairs in a bit!”

You giggle at the way his feet shuffle almost too quickly back across the carpet and he trips over his own feet, catching himself and assuring you he’s fine before continuing down the stairs.

It’s only 20 minutes after that you join him in the kitchen, but you can tell he’s used every second of it to stay busy. There’s a plate of food already waiting for you and he offers you a mug of coffee, letting you transfer Sterling to his shoulder so he can burp him while you enjoy your breakfast.

“You didn’t make anything for yourself?”

“M’too excited to eat,” He shakes his head, “I’ll have something after.”

“Alright then, if you can wait then so can I,” You put your fork down, taking a long sip of your coffee before setting the mug back on the table. You offer him your hand, and for a second you think he may refuse, urge you to sit back down and enjoy your meal first. He doesn’t though, the buzz of elation at you seeing what he got for you overrides any other emotion and he grips your hand tightly in his, squeezing once before letting you pull him into the living room.

The only light provided in the room comes from the glow of the lights on your tree. They perfectly illuminate the shock on your face at the sight of how many presents have joined the pile since the night before.

“Harry, how did you have time to do all this? You’ve been busy or with us in all your off time lately.”

“Shh..they aren’t all from me,” He’s sitting on the floor in front of the tree, and he pats the spot next to him, inviting you to join him. He looks down at where Sterling sits in his lap when he says, “Had some help from Santa.”

That earns him a big smile from his son, who can’t take his bright eyes off of Harry. They drift to you for a second when you plop yourself next to the two of them.

“Seriously..I know you had help cause there’s no way you wrapped all these yourself.”

He covers Sterling’s ears, rolling his eyes at your slight insult, “Fine. If you must know, Auntie Sham helped me. I had them all sent to her and she wrapped them for me. I picked them up from her before I came home yesterday and snuck them in from the car after you fell asleep.”

“Sham? My best friend Sham? I just talked to her last night and she didn’t mention any of this to me!”

“‘Course she didn’t. Made her promise she wouldn’t tell. You’re too nosy for me to hide them here, too smart too. You would’ve figured it out a month ago if I hadn't asked Sham to help.”

“A month? The two of you have been scheming against me for a whole month?” He dodges the playful swat you attempt to throw his way, catches your arm instead to settle it against his chest. He uses it as leverage to pull you closer to his face, a firm kiss pressed to your lips. You melt against him, any irritation that may have been building fading away. You make a mental note to shoot Sham a text later to thank her.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he reaches with the arm that isn’t clutching tight to Sterling to grab a small box wrapped with simple red paper, adorned with green ribbon and a bow. This one is more messily wrapped than the others, and if you had to guess, Harry did it himself.

“Baby gets the first present.” He holds the box close to Sterling’s little hands. He has been grabbing at things more lately, discovering his hands and learning to use them. Thankfully they hadn’t quite learned to grip too tightly yet, since they mostly ended up in yours or Harry’s hair when either of you held him.

He tosses a matching box over to you and you catch it. You watch Sterling closely, see his sweet hands as they wrap around the box Harry offered him.

“Harry? Remember what I said earlier about Sterling being 7 weeks old so that present is most likely about to..end up in his mouth.” You chuckle as you watch that exact thing happen and Harry scrambling to move the box away from his son’s mouth, leaning in to ensure none of the paper got left behind. He breathes a sigh of relief when he inspects the package and finds that everything's still intact, maybe just a bit more wet than before.

“Let daddy help you, bub,” He nods to the one in your hands, “Open up, babe.”

You do, tearing away the paper and waiting for Harry to open the one for Sterling. You pull the top off the white box, revealing a bracelet made from the same beads as Harry’s teal Eliou necklace he owns. You look up to see a much smaller version being slipped onto Sterling’s wrist.

“I seeing you eyein’ my necklace when I wear it, but I also know you prefer bracelets so I had the designer make a set for you and bubs, so we can all match.”

“Oh, Harry, I love it so much! It really is gorgeous, thank you!” You turn your wrist around to get the full view of it fitting perfectly against your skin. You wipe a few tears when they escape from your eyes before exclaiming, “Okay! Your turn!”

You pass him an envelope labeled with his name and he raises his eyebrows at you as he takes it.

“Starting out a little small, are we?”

You shrug, “Depends on your definition of small.”

He’s gently pulling at the opening and before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “Just open it!”

“I am! I am! Just didn’t want to rip the card inside.” He works faster now, fingers tugging the edge of the card out and gasping when the airplane ticket falls out and lands in front of him.

“Is this what I think it is?” He snatches the piece of paper up, eyes scanning frantically over the words to find the destination, “How did you know when to schedule it for?”

“I know how homesick you’ve been lately, and how much you wanted more of your family to be able to meet Sterling so I thought we’d go to them instead of the other way around. Jeff helped me, said next week would be best. If you don’t want to do it then though we can..”

“No, this is perfect, except..”

“Except?”

“I also talked to Jeff about taking some time off to visit family. Yours instead of mine though. I see now why he had next week blocked off.”

“Wait..is that why my mom said ‘see you soon’ when we FaceTimed her last week? Did she know already?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t mind havin’ us around for a week or so.”

He reads over his ticket again, laughing when he sees the end date of the trip you scheduled, “We’re gonna have a busy two weeks.”

“Great minds think alike, I guess.”

His hand reaches the short distance to cup your jaw, thumb swiping away more happy tears that have spilled at the idea of getting to show off Sterling to yours and Harry’s family. He smiles proudly down at Sterling before returning his gaze back to you.

“Yeah, guess they do.”

You both work through opening the rest of the presents labeled for Sterling as fast as you can, knowing it won’t be long before he’s ready for his mid-morning nap. You both make goofy faces and silly noises to keep Sterling engaged with each of the gifts you tear open for him. You can see him fading though, eyes trying to slip closed between each gift.

“I know there’s only a few more left, but I think we should save them for later, H. He’s getting tired.”

“Guess I did go a little overboard, huh?”

“No, Harry, everything is perfect, really. You did amazing.”

“I’ll take him back up to his bed, get him settled.”

“I’ll do it,” You’re already up, gently lifting him from Harry’s arms, “I’ll come back down and we can open the rest of ours together while he naps.”

“Or we could nap while he does..isn’t that what they say? Sleep when the baby sleeps?”

“That’s what we’ve been told, yeah. Never really works out for us though, does it?”

There’s always too much to be done in between; anything from a sink full of dishes to be washed or a few loads of laundry to be done. It was a nice idea though, and when Harry is able to be home he’s helping with as much of it as he can, urging you to do the resting instead.

He shakes his head, “No, it doesn’t but..s’Christmas. There’s no rush today, right? We can just..relax.”

You shoot him a look and you both fall into a fit of giggles, knowing there’s no such thing now that you have Sterling. Not that he was a particularly fussy or difficult baby, but he was just that..a baby that took up all your time and attention and didn’t care what day it may be or how tired his parents were.

“No harm in trying.” You shrug, keeping a tight hold on the mostly asleep babe resting on your shoulder as you make your way up the stairs, Harry following close behind, ready to catch you if your clumsy feet were to trip on the way up.

“Tryin’? Guarantee y’ll be snoring by the time your head hits your pillow in about 5 minutes.”

You don’t even have the energy to playfully scold him for his teasing, a yawn stretching across your face only confirming his theory. You’ve made it back to the doorway of Sterling’s room and you turn back to face Harry, a dreamy smile working it’s way across your lips. He clears the space still standing between the two of you easily, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a hug.

Harry’s careful not to squeeze too tight, to add the right amount of pressure in the embrace so you know how much he loves and appreciates you. You’re the one who deepens it, still keeping a firm hold to your son but pressing yourself as close as possible to his chest. His hand rests on the small of your back as he reaches around you to turn the doorknob to guide you through the doorway. In his haste to help, he’s pushed the door more roughly than he intended. The creak of the door startles Sterling, and you both wince at what you know is coming; your son’s cry rings loud through his room, breaking the silence you had already adjusted to. You do your best to pacify him, pacing a few times, shushing and rubbing his back in an attempt to quiet him.

You don’t even notice Harry’s absence until he’s back, a chestnut colored teddy bear held in his right hand. It’s the one present that the two of you picked out and agreed on, the one thing Sterling actively tried to reach for when it was opened earlier in the morning. Harry swears it looks just like one he had owned when he was younger and he wanted his son to grow up with a similar comfort. Sterling had stared at it for 10 minutes, no matter how you and Harry had tried to pull his attention away with other things you had opened for him. Currently, Sterling’s louder cries had diminished to softer ones, but still hadn’t completely stopped.

You speak quietly into his ear, almost a whisper when you say, “Look what daddy went back downstairs and got for you, angel. Don’t let him convince you he picked it out though.”

“Mumma’s a terrible liar,” Harry sing-songs at Sterling, flashing a look of disbelief up towards you, “Can’t believe you’d lie to our boy like that on Christmas.”

“It’s not a lie!” You’re still keeping your voice low so as not to disturb the baby again, “I showed it to you online weeks before we found that one in the store!”

“Y’sure? Cause I remember you being distracted by how cute the baby shoes were. I had to convince you not to spend $50 on a pair of boots he wouldn’t even be able to wear until next year!”

“I..well..they were on sale! He’d look so cute running around in boots next year!”

“You think he’ll be running by next year?” There’s a genuine fear in his voice at that thought, the idea of his baby growing up that fast.

“Maybe. He’ll be a year old next Christmas so it’s a definite possibility, especially if he takes after you.”

His voice is somber when he speaks again, “I can’t imagine him being anything other than the tiny baby he is now.”

“Babies grow, H,” The statement comes out more sarcastic than you intended, so you add, “Whether we want him to or not. We can always have another one too, you know.”

“You’re already thinking about another baby? Now?

“Well, not this second, no. But eventually. Like to maybe give you a little girl if you want one. Or any other boy is fine too. I’d be happy either way.”

“I’d take a girl.” He smirks at you, taking the now sleeping Sterling from you, placing a kiss to his forehead before bending to transfer him carefully into his crib. You both hold your breath as Sterling stretches, another tiny mewl at not being held anymore. His eyes stay closed though, and the two of you release a sigh of relief at the sound of his soft snores.

“Yeah?” You work one arm around his waist as he bends to tuck the teddy bear next to Sterling. He knows it can’t stay there while he naps, but for now he hopes it’ll bring his son even more comfort than he’s already feeling, at least for the few minutes more that he’ll be standing there to watch over him.

“Yeah,” He nods, still looking down when he continues, “As long as she turns out just like you, I’d love a lil girl.”

You don’t know what to say to that; don’t know how to tell him that one of your nightly prayers is that Sterling will turn out just like him. Big-hearted and kind with soft brown curls and that bright smile that could charm anyone. You would tell him later, but for now all you can do is stare lovingly back at him, blinking a few times to clear the tears. A love this big was something that had only ever existed in your dreams, and now you were being reminded of how real and true it was, your only response is to wrap your other arm around him and hug him tightly. You know he’ll be able to interpret the hug as a sign of your admiration for what he’s just said, for the wish that he hopes was just spoken into existence for the future.

When he does lift his eyes back up to study your face, his next breath is simply used to tell you, “Merry Christmas, darlin’”

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #dad!harry #my writing

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cassava-49 · 4 years ago

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Death 1

Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7

The water looks so inviting mostly after all that has happened to you. Marinette felt numb, not really caring whether or not people, other than her family, would care. She didn't feel like the bubbly girl that she was since the start. She didn't feel the responsibility of being Ladybug surge through. All that filled her head was how everyone in class turned against her because of Lila's lies.

"Marinette can you stop being so jealous and possessive and manipulative for once!" Alya shouted at her. "Alya, can you stop blaming Marinette for once!" Adrien shouted back. "I know that Lila's lying and I know Marinette's telling the truth. Can you stop! For once, stop thinking that Lila's such a perfect angel!" he added. "Adrien, just stop, please," Marinette pleaded him. "I-i-it's a-alright Alya, Ma-ma-marinette didn't mean to," Lila cried, hiding her victorious grin. "Sh, sh, don't worry Lila, but it's not okay," Alya comforted her. "Dude, you should apologize," Nino said to the pair. The two then scowled at their ex-best friends, but before they could retaliate, Natalie appeared to the scene. "Adrien," she sternly called. He flinched, knowing what will happen. He then took Marinette by the wrist and walked towards the exit with Natalie following behind. "I'm sorry Adrien," Marinette said as he got into the car, he then gave her a sad smile and a curt nod.

That night she waited for his call. Anxiety teasing through her body, finally after dinner, she heard her phone ring. She immediately answered it and heard Adrien's shaky voice on the other line. "What happened? How did it go?" she asked. "H-he, m-my father," he stuttered. "He's pulling me out of school," he said. "What! Why?" she asked, worry slowly sunk in. "He said that you're a bad influence and so is the school, he's sending me to New York," he replied. "I-I'm so sorry Adrien," she replied, feeling the tears attempting to escape. "It's alright, it was my choice anyway. It was either going to school but ignore you, or go to a different country but be able to contact you," he replied. "If I chose the former, it would break my heart seeing you, and it's not like I have any other friends," he added. "Promise that we'll keep in touch," she whispered. "I promise, but I've got to go now, I need to do something," he answered. "Yeah, sure, good night," she replied. "Good night," he responded.

Once the call ended she summoned her transformation to vent out by swing across the city. She arrived at their rendezvous point to find a crying Chat. Without hesitation she walked to him and wrapped her arms around him. "Chat, are you ok?" she asked. "My lady," came his response. She then sat beside him as she let go. "What's wrong?" she queried. "I'm leaving," he replied. "Why?" she asked. No please, not Chat, I can't lose them both at the same time, she thought. "My father, he wants to transfer me to New York," he answered. "That's why I have to give up being Chat Noir. I'm sorry," he said in between sobs. "When?" she pressed. "Tomorrow, he already got the papers done this morning, with all his connections and money, I never doubted it," he let out a strained chuckle. "I planned to give up my miraculous after patrol. One last taste of being Chat Noir. Never had I wanted an akuma attack so badly," he cried. He then felt Ladybug pull him up to his feet. "Let's go have one last run together, until you come back," she said with tears in her eyes as she wiped his. He gave out a small smile as they raced on the rooftops of Paris.

After their run they heard a blast, making both of them smile and eagerly defeated the akuma. With five minutes remaining, they raced on the Paris rooftops with Ladybug leading. Ladybug grabbed his arm and pulled him onto her balcony. "Why are we at Marinette's?" Chat asked. "I want to tell you who I am," she replied. "A-are you sure?" he asked. "I've never been more sure. I want you to know," she replied as both of their transformations fall. If they were not crying earlier, they were crying now, crouched down in each others arms. Adrien Agreste WAS Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng WAS Ladybug. They smiled at each other and hand in hand entered her room The two then spent their time in her room as Plagg floated next to Adrien, knowing that he'll miss his presence. It was one in the morning when Ladybug returned Adrien to his room with a longing kiss goodbye, promising to be together once he's back.

That was our plan, Marinette thought as she leaned on the railing if the bridge. The bridge where she and Adrien bought ice-cream from André's. This was the bridge where she and Kagami became friends. This was the bridge where she shared her ice-cream with Luka. Unfortunately, Adrien's plane crashed in the Atlantic, the cause was still unknown. If he had the horse miraculous, he would have survived, she thought again. Ever since his death, she gave up her miraculous giving it to the new ladybug holder as she apologized to Tikki. She also told her parents the truth and asked them to be part of the order of the guardians, and taught them the secrets to the miraculous.

It's been weeks since Kagami and Luka became the new Lady Luck and Monsieur Noir of Paris, they still reminded Paris about the original Chat Noir and Ladybug, who will always remain in their hearts, they even asked the mayor to make their debut Ladybug and Chat Noir's day. As for Lila, she began making more lies as to why Ladybug quitted like, "She felt too much pressure and wanted me to become the new ladybug but I had to refuse since I didn't feel worthy and it would be too obvious because I'm the new Ladybug since I'm her best friend, but I helped in picking out the new recruits."

Lies, lies, it was all lies, Marinette was the one who gave Kagami and Luka the cat and ladybug miraculous. It hurts, it hurts, so much. With one last look at the stars, she fell into the icy cold water of the Seine. She didn't feel anything else, until her head collided with a sharp rock at the bottom.

...

Marinette woke up with a massive headache. She found herself in an hospital ward, but her clothes were what she had been wearing when she tried to commit suicide. She watched her parents stare animatedly at her but said nothing. She then realised something, her parents were not looking at her, but something behind her. She followed their line of sight to find herself. She had her head wrapped up in bandages, her hair was down, a pipe was in her throat for food. Her nose also had the typical dexterous to help her breath, another was connected to her large intestine for excretion. That was when she knew, she was in her astro form. Her soul left her vegetable body and is free to wander since she was in a coma.

She got up and began walking towards her parents. Their tear strained eyes watched her wistfully, hoping that she would wake up soon. Her grandfather's bread was in a basket next to her bed. Her Nona's helmet was found in one of the chairs, signifying that she was there. She touched her father's cheek, only to have her hand pass through his face. She was a ghost, or a spirit, either way she was neither dead nor alive. She went to her mother who was walking towards her body taking her hand, she felt warmth, a sign that she can still feel and not exactly dead. She watched as the monitor showed that her heart beat was normal and resting.

All of a sudden her classmates, along with Lila were inside her room. All with devastated faces, even Lila, which surprised her. Alya and Nino was crying along with Rose, Mylène, Chloé and basically everyone was crying except for Lila who still had shock written all over her face. Although the same couldn't be said for her parents. Tom got up as Sabine moved closer to Marinette's body. "Leave," he said. "What? Why? Marinette is our friend, we have to be here for her," Alya exclaimed. "Really, so you have no idea as to why she committed suicide?" Tom asked with a growl this time. "Isn't it obvious? It's because Adrien died," she answered. This time Sabine got up and threw her Marinette's note. Alya dropped to her knees as she read it out loud, causing everyone to cry harder. There she explained that Adrien was not the reason as to why she died. He was the reason as to why she still lived even though he passed, but she said that she could not take it anymore, all the bullying, all the rumours, all the lies and the threats. After reading the note, Alya turned to Lila asking for an answer. But this time she was crying, was it guilt or were they real.

"Get out," a growl erupted from behind them, to find Marinette's grandfather. "I-I'm so so-" Alya tried to say. "Don't give us your half assed apology, the damage has been done, now get out!" Sabine shouted. They all but rushed out of the room with Marinette's ghost. Once the door was closed they all turned to Lila for an explanation and as if some divine intervention, Jagged Stone appeared with his mascara dripping down with his tears as he pushed past the teens to enter her room.

"Mr. Stone?" Kim asked. "What! Can't you see I'm in a hurry to see my niece!" he exclaimed. "Niece? But isn't it just Marinette in there?" he asked. "Just Marinette," he says in a low voice. "Just Marinette! This is my niece we're taking about, the sweetest, kindest girl I'll every meet!" he exclaimed as Penny arrived. "But what about Lila?" Kim asked. "Lila? Lila! That crazed girl who thinks I have a kitten and deliberately bullied my niece! She's here? Where is she!" he exclaimed with outrage only to be held back by Penny.

If Marinette was still alive, she would have enjoyed watching Lila's lies crumble down, but now she doesn't feel anything. "What a mess?" she heard someone say from behind. She turned to find a boy around her age standing beside her. Not really minding, since he couldn't see her, she returned her attention towards Jagged and her classmates. But she turned her attention back to the boy when she saw a nurse pass through him. "Y-you're a ghost?" she asked catching his attention. "You can see me?" he asked. Now looking at him she thought that he resembled Adrien, like a lot. He was blond with green eyes, a head taller wearing a grey Polo shirt with a black vest she tie. "I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she introduced herself unconsciously. The boy stared at her and replied, "I'm Felix Graham de Vanilly." They turned their attention back to the commotion as they watched Alya punch Lila letting out her anger once she found out the truth.

"I'm sorry, they're my classmates," she huffed. "What's the deal with the girl in the glasses and the Italian?" he asked. She sighed and replied, "It's actually a very long sob story. Are you sure you want to hear it?" she asked. Felix smiled and replied, "There's nothing wrong with a long story, it's not like I'm going anywhere." Marinette smiled as Felix lead her away from the commotion as she began telling him her story.

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onlyfreds · 4 years ago

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Breaking Free | F.W.

Title: Breaking Free (High School Musical Au!)

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: Fred and Y/N first meet at a New Year’s Party. When Y/N ends up being transferred in the same school as Fred and they have callbacks for the school’s musical, will they be able to escape the status quo and break free?

A/N: This maybe the longest fic I’ve ever written with a whopping 3k. And tagging @thisismynerdyself since I know she loves HSM.

Fred Weasley couldn’t believe it. It was her, Y/N L/N, the girl who sang with him during the New Years’ Eve party. But he had to make sure.

He took out his phone, despite Mcgonagall warning them not to, and called the number Y/N had given him.

Sure enough, her phone ran, confirming her identity. But at the cost of getting his and Y/N’s phone confiscated and the both of them landing a detention.

Once Homeroom had ended, Fred waited for her outside the classroom.

“Hey!” He greeted as she walked out.

She looked up at him, a smile making its way onto her lips, “Hey! I didn’t know you went here.” She said as they started to walk down the hall.

Fred chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “I didn’t even know you lived here.”

Y/N giggled, “I just moved this winter because the company had to transfer my mum. But now, she made the company promise not to transfer her until I graduate.”

“That’s great!” Fred said enthusiastically.

The two of them stopped in front of a sign-up sheet for the Winter Musical.

“You should join. Since you’re such a good singer.” Y/N suggested as she glanced at Fred.

“Oh,’ Fred suddenly muttered, “I-I can’t, the one that was singing with you was a whole different side of me.”

The girl giggled, “In short, your friends don’t know.”

Fred laughed as he relaxed. Feeling relieved that Y/N had understood him, “Yeah,” he said, “They don’t know.”

Pansy Parkinson, the leader of East High’s theater clique and Draco Malfoy’s partner, came skipping in. Signing her name on all of the spaces for the audition.

She gave a sickly-sweet smile to Fred and Y/N, “Hi!” She said to Y/N, “I would invite you to audition for the musical but.” She glanced at the sheet, “All the spots are taken.”

Y/N chuckled nervously, “It’s fine. I wasn’t planning on joining any extra-curriculars anyway. Since I am new and all.”

On that happy note, Pansy skipped off, probably to look for Draco.

“I’m sorry about her.” Fred immediately apologized as Pansy was out of earshot, “She’s always like that.”

Y/N smiled genuinely at the ginger, “It’s okay. There were a lot of them at my old school anyway.”

Later that night, as Fred laid in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. Not that he was complaining, of course.

Truth be told, he couldn’t stop thinking about her ever since he met her at the Ski Lodge during the party.

For some reason, he was infatuated, no, he was in love with her.

The next day, Fred skips one of his basketball practices (even if the coach, Oliver Wood, would throw him across the court if he had caught him). Secretly heading over to the auditorium where the musical auditions were being held. Only to bump into an equally curious Y/N.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked him, not expecting him to be there.

“Um, to um, watch the auditions.” Fred stuttered out, making Y/N giggle at how cute he was.

They sat in the back row to keep away from prying eyes as they watched the auditions.

It would be an understatement to say that the pair was mildly disgusted with the performance of Pansy and Draco.

Mcgonagall called for anyone else who would want to audition.

“I want to audition.” Y/N whispered excitedly to Fred.

“Then go audition.” Fred encouraged her.

She looked at him, “But, I need a partner.”

Fred’s eyes widen, “No, I can’t sing with you.” He tried to tell her but she was already walking over.

“I want to audition Professor.” She said, causing Mcgongall to look at her.

“I’m sorry dear.” The professor looked at her sympathetically, “But the solo auditions are long over.”

“I’m going to sing with her.” Fred suddenly said, coming out of his hiding spot, wearing the most defeated look on his face.

Mcgongall tried to mask her surprise, “I’m sorry Mr. Weasley and Ms. L/N but I already called for the pair auditions and you are too late.”

“But Professor, she has a great voice.” Fred tried to reason.

“You guys can audition for the Spring Musical.” She said.

“But Professor- “Fred tried.

“The next musical.” Mcgonagall said sternly, leaving no more room for discussion.

Fred looked apologetically to Y/N, “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips, “It’s fine. There’s always the next musical anyway.”

They then heard a small thud and as they looked over at the direction of the stage, they saw Hermione, the pianist, frantically trying to pick up papers that flew out of her grasp.

Fred and Y/N ran over to Hermione and helped her pick up the papers.

“So, you wrote the play?” Fred asked trying to break the awkward silence that was lingering between the trio.

Hermione nodded, “Yeah.” She answered in a quiet voice.

“Then you’re the playmaker of the play.” He said.

Hermione gave him a confused look, “Playmaker?”

Fred nodded, “Yeah, it’s like you’re the brains behind the operation. Without you, the play wouldn’t be happening at all.”

Hermione smiled, “Do you guys want to hear how the song should really go. Not Pansy and Draco’s version.” She offered.

Y/N smiled, “Sure.”

Hermione started to play the song, Fred and Y/N singing along in perfect harmony.

“Weasley, L/N!” Mcgongall said as she came out of her hiding spot, causing the trio to jump slightly. She offered a kind smile, “You have a callback.”

Hermione had given them the music sheet for their callback song.

The next day, Pansy’s scream seemed to echo across the whole school.

Draco took a deep breath despite his partner’s distress and started to read the note. “Callbacks for the Winter Musical, Thursday 2 to 3 pm. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, Fred Weasley and Y/N L/N.”

Pansy screamed again as George and the rest of the basketball team entered the school, “Fred and Y/N have a callback!”

George laughed as he heard it, “Fred? Has a callback? You’re kidding.” But the smile on his face disappeared as he took a look at the sheet and saw his twin’s name on it.

He quickly rushed out in search for Fred.

“We’ve got to do something about this.” Pansy said, stomping her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum, as she dragged Draco to who knows where.

George and Y/N’s best friend, Angelina, met up in the chemistry lab.

“They both have callbacks.” George ranted, “We have to do something about it.”

Angelina thought about it for a moment, “I have a plan.” She said as she whispered their plot into George’s ear.

The ginger looked at her with a smile, “You’re absolutely brilliant!”

The plan came into motion the next day.

George and Angelina came to school early to make sure everything was ready.

The two then went their separate ways moments later to execute their operation.

George and the rest of the basketball team cornered Fred as he was about to leave the court.

As they were drilling Fred, one of his teammates took out a small webcam that was connected to Angelina’s laptop making sure everything was being captured.

“You’re already neglecting the team because of Y/N, because of the stupid callbacks.” George said to Fred, knowing what he would respond.

Meanwhile, in the chemistry lab, Angelina was having Y/N watch the scene that was unfolding down with the boys.

“Then I’ll forget about Y/N.” Fred said in his confusion and rage, “I’ll forget about Y/N and the callbacks.”

Y/N heart was shattered. She thought that there was already something more than friendship between her and Fred. But she was wrong. She was blinded by love and it resulted in a broken heart.

“I’m sorry.” Angelina said, knowing her friend’s obliviousness to the whole plan.

Y/N stood up, taking her best friend’s hand, “It’s okay.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I should’ve realized sooner anyway.”

Angelina nodded, feeling slightly guilty upon seeing her friend’s heart being broken into pieces, “Do you want to go to lunch?”

Y/N shook her head, “No. I think that I’ll just stay here for a bit.”

Angelina looked at Y/N reluctantly, pursing her lips, contemplating if she should tell her the truth. But thought against it as she left the lab.

Y/N looked out the window to see Fred being lifted on his teammates’ shoulders as they cheered.

Her heart ached so much for him. At night, she couldn’t stop imagining how life would be if they were in a relationship. How it would feel like watching him play, cheering for him as he winked at her, proud to have her as his girlfriend.

But it was just a fairytale. A dream she lived in when she was awake.

But this was reality and reality was no fairytale.

She tore her eyes away from the window, walking down the halls, mind filled with nothing but Fred, heart broken into pieces.

Just my luck she thought as she suddenly bumped into Fred at the locker area.

“Hey!” Fred said, greeting her with his signature smile.

She avoided his gaze, causing him to suspect something.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Y/N looked up, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, “Nothing.”

“Oh, and about the callbacks- “Fred started to say before he was interrupted.

“Let’s forget about it.” Y/N suddenly said.

“What?” the ginger asked, confusion coating his voice.

She looked down at her feet, “Let’s forget about it.” She repeated, trying to keep herself from breaking down in front of him.

“Why?” He questioned, trying to figure out what was happening to the sweet, bubbly girl he knew.

“That’s what you would want.” Y/N said as she walked past Fred, failing to control the tears from falling from her eyes. And leaving a very confused Fred standing there.

It’s been a week since that incident. Fred and Y/N’s mood seemed to be deflated to the point that even their friends noticed it.

George and Angelina discussed the problem, and they both agreed that they should tell the pair the truth.

George, Lee and Ron went up to the rooftop garden and they found Fred there.

“Hey!” George said as the three of them sat down next to Fred.

“Leave me alone.” Fred muttered, staring blankly into space, trying to figure out what he done wrong with the girl he adored.

“Just give us a moment Fred.” Lee pleaded.

“Just listen to what we have to say.” Ron added.

Fred nodded, thinking it wasn’t of any importance.

“Angelina and I maybe behind the reason why Y/N has been avoiding you lately.” George said, slowly breaking the news to Fred.

Fred turned to properly look at his twin, now giving him his full attention, “What?!”

George explained what plan he and Angelina had formulated. Fred wore a frown on his face the whole time instead of his signature smile that made Y/N fall for him in the first place.

Once the three of his friends had finished recounting the story. Fred immediately ran down the stairs.

In the chemistry lab, Angelina, Hermione and Ginny were the ones to tell Y/N the truth.

After they had told her everything, Y/N placed her attention on the whiteboard where she was studying for the triathlon.

“Y/N?” Angelina said tentatively.

“I’m okay.” The girl said.

“About the callbacks?” Ginny asked.

Y/N sighed, “They aren’t important. We should focus on the triathlon.”

Y/N still avoided Fred especially at the attempts wherein the boy would try to talk to her.

It was after class, Y/N laid on her stomach on the bed, texting with Hermione on her phone. When she heard her mum opened the door and upon hearing Fred’s voice, she slowly walked down the stairs hiding from view.

“Can I talk to Y/N?” Fred asked.

Her mother closed the door slightly looking at her daughter as Y/N mouthed, “Tell him I’m doing homework and stuff.” Before she dashed up the stairs.

“She’s doing homework and stuff.” Y/N’s mum said, turning to Fred.

Fred nodded, “Well, can you tell her I dropped by?”

Her mother smiled, “Of course.”

As Fred started to leave, he noticed that the balcony behind the house led directly to Y/N’s room.

He climbed the nearest tree and hopped onto her balcony, seeing Y/N with her back turned to him.

He took out his phone and called her, as soon as she picked up the phone and heard his voice, Fred suddenly said, “Wait, don’t put down the phone. I’m sorry okay. I never meant to say all that. I can’t bear to lose you from my life. Not being able to talk to you this past week has been torture for me. So, can you please find it in your heart to forgive me?”

When he received no answer from her, he began to sing the reprise of the song he sang with her during New Year’s Eve, This could be the start of something new. It feels so right to be here with you. And now looking in your eyes, I feel in my heart The start of something new

Y/N turns around and sees him on her balcony, she drops the call and walks over to him with a small smile on her face because she realizes that Fred really cares.

“I’m sorry too.” She said, joining him on outside of her room, “for leaving you without an explanation.”

He smiled, “It’s okay. So, will you still do the callbacks with me?”

She smiled up at him, “Of course.”

The friends of the two were happy when they saw that Fred and Y/N were back. After class, Y/N went down to the basketball court to visit Fred.

“What are you doing here?” Fred asked with a smile as he passed her the ball.

“I came to see you.” Y/N answered as she threw the ball into the hoop, shooting a perfect three-pointer.

“Not bad.” The ginger praised her.

She giggled, “Well, I did score 40 points during a game.”

Fred gave her a look of surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah. And on the same day I invented the space shuttle and microwave popcorn.”

“Microwave popcorn.” Fred laughed as he hugged Y/N from behind, spinning her around as her giggles echoed off the walls.

Somebody cleared their throat causing Fred to let go of Y/N, it was the team’s basketball coach, Oliver Wood.

He raised a brow at the two, giving them a questioning look.

Fred placed an arm around Y/N’s waist, causing butterflies to erupt in her stomach as he said, “Hey coach! This is my friend.”

Y/N smiled as she held out her hand, “I’m Y/N.”

Oliver just nodded, “Well, Y/N, if you don’t mind, we have practice to attend to.”

The girl nodded, handing the basketball back to Fred, “Well see you.” She said, running out of the court.

“You didn’t have to be rude.” Fred said, dribbling the ball.

“That girl is distracting you.” Oliver reasoned.

“That’s girl’s name is Y/N.” Fred answered back.

“It’s because of her you’re in the callbacks. You supposed to be the playmaker, not a singer.” Oliver said.

Fred stopped dribbling the ball, “Why can’t I be both?” Fred asked angrily before they proceeded to practice in silence.

Pansy had managed to put into motion a plan that will stop both Fred and Y/N from attending the callbacks.

“The callbacks have been moved to Friday.” Hermione said, bursting into the room where Fred and Y/N were practicing with the presence of George and Angelina.

“But the big game is on Friday.” George said.

“The triathlon is also on Friday.” Angelina said.

Fred and Y/N exchanged a look before the five of them started to formulate a plan.

The three groups went on their separate ways that Friday. Pansy and Draco going to get ready for the callbacks. Fred and the basketball team going to the court. And Angelina and Y/N going to the lab for their triathlon.

Pansy thought that she could win? Then she’s messed with the wrong people.

Right after Y/N answered a question at the triathlon, scoring another point. She and her best friend exchanged a look as she sat down.

“Time for an orderly exit from the gym.” Angelina said she pressed a key on her laptop which caused the lights to flicker in the court.

“Players please conduct an orderly exit from the gym.” The voice of the announcer boomed through the speakers as Fred and George exchanged a smile.

“There goes Angie’s signal.” George said clapping Fred on the shoulder before running out of the gym.

Angelina pressed another key on her laptop, causing on the potions to emit smoke and have them all evacuated to the auditorium.

Pansy and Draco had just finished their performance, when the students both from the gym and the lab started piling in.

Fred and Y/N met on stage. “You ready?” Fred asked.

Y/N looked nervously around at the amount of people who were watching them, biting her lip.

“I can’t Fred. Not with all these people.” She said.

He cupped her cheek, turning her face so she could look at him, “Hey, just imagine there not here. Just the two of us. Just focus on me.”

She nodded as Fred motioned for Hermione to start playing the piano.

They started to sing, Y/N felt like she was set free as her stage fright melted away with every second, she was on the stage with Fred. They both felt confident, they both felt like that they could take on the world. Together.

“You know the world can see us in a way that’s different from who we are.” The couple sang the last line together, looking at each other loving as the audience gave them a standing ovation.

Fred kissed Y/N on the cheek. “Be my girlfriend?” He asked quietly.

Y/N smiled, “I would love nothing more.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

@lumosandnoxwriting @whizboingies @wand3ringr0s3

#fredweasley #fredweasleyimagines #fred weasley fanfiction #fredweasleyfanfic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley smut #fred weasley and george weasley #fredweasleyastroybolton highschoolmusical #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #high school musical au #weasley #troy bolton #gabriella montez #fredweasleyoneshots #hp imagine #hp one shot

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appleflavoredkitkats · 4 years ago

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What about other ppl in the smp, like Eret, Niki, Jack? Do they go to Las Nevadas? Are Eret and Fundy still friends?

HEYO THANK YOU FOR ASKING MORE ABT THE AU BC I DEEPLY APPRECIATE IT <33 /g

tw: gambling, drinking, self-neglect, slight eating disorder, mentions of past violence

/dsmp /rp

i'd like to this this au is set in a period after wilbur's resurrection and dream's prison escape where the entire smp is like. well, we're fucked— time to get wasted now!

quackity would originally look down upon eret, puffy, h, and punz because of the entire monarchy fiasco, but after knowing how rich eret was, quackity would let them slide. they don't seem to be a threat of power anyway, so why should he care? i also think eret might've helped supplied las nevadas too, maybe just simple materials here and there thanks to fundy's requests.

fundy has talked to eret multiple times whenever he visits. eret is good at stopping themselves from getting too addicted to alcohol or gambling, so they would be sober or healthy enough for fundy to have conversations with. eret has even probably had sleepovers with fundy because eret is still genuinely concerned about his wellbeing, you know? because to eret, it feels odd that fundy doesn't seem as lively as he used to be, even if he is still quite enthusiastic when he works, it still isn't the same.

eret often asks fundy about family. i think that's the main thing they always talk about— family, and found family. eret has found a family with the knights he's hired and giving shelter to all of the ex-members of the eggpire. eret's main concern is fundy, and if he could ever forgive them for missing the adoption. and fundy doesn't really know actually, because he is still quite hurt about it, but he's definitely moved on. he still values eret as a good friend, and eret reciprocates, and i guess that's what matters to him.

but in terms of family, fundy doesn't really know if he wants to label anything as family due to his trust issues. he often vents to eret about these problems, especially in the earlier stages of las nevadas. he's scared that if he ever labels something as family, they'd just leave him anyway, so he prefers not having a family. but eret still insists its important for fundy to have some type of support system, but this is where fundy tends to change the topic, and eret can't do anything but hopelessly nod along.

but there's a time that definitely changed! there's a time eret did hangout with fundy, do a simple sleepover like old times, and they woke up once to quackity and schlatt entering fundy's room with a tray of food. eret asked them what the food was for, especially since this didn't happen last time eret was here, but quackity replies that he kind of got used to it out of habit, especially since fundy doesn't really notice that he skips meals every now and then.

and eret is kind of surprised they care?? in a good way of course, because they're all. oh, fundy HAS found a better family to care for him. quackity and schlatt bids eret a good day before leaving, and eret approaches the tray of food quietly. there's a note placed atop. on the note, there's a to-do list for fundy with simple things like “remember to eat” or “remember to take breaks” or “lessen your cigarette intake”, and on the back, there seems to be a long note left by quackity. eret didn't want to invade fundy's privacy too much, but they did remember glancing at a small note that said “you are loved. take care of yourself, and never forget that” written somewhere on the paper.

NOW FOR NIKI! niki does visit, she visits a LOT, and she loves the upbeat vibes of las nevadas, anything with popping colors and enthusiastic moods are such a turn on for her, and she just loves to stay there for multiple days on end. the syndicate would be often concerned about her wellbeing, but niki ensures she doesn't really get too drunk or gamble too much.

(the drinking statement is debatable because, surprisingly, niki has a high tolerance for alcohol, so she drinks a LOT. where was this when she was having her villain arc?)

she's honestly just happy to be there, and she just likes to dance and groove! there's a thrill in las nevadas she never really experienced much in her life, and she's happy she can basically vibe here without worrying about betrayal or death every five seconds.

on the dance floor, she has danced with a couple of people. the first one she does dance with accidentally is schlatt, who seems to be Very Awkward when it comes to dancing. he honestly wasn't even supposed to be there— niki thinks he might've lost a bet or something? but niki still tried to make do with what she was given.

the most interesting conversations niki has had in her life has got to be the ones she has on the dance floor. when it came to schlatt, he was mumbling a lot, very awkward and tense knowing the state of their relationship during the manberg era, but niki puts that aside. because there's no point on lingering on the past for too long— she's talked to puffy and the syndicate about this far too many times— so she grabs schlatt and twirls him around like nothing has happened. he never really got to apologize, but he did give niki a fun dance, and you know what? it was fun! so that's all that matters.

quackity was the second one she's danced with, and quackity is the opposite of schlatt. he was charming, enthusiastic, extremely extroverted, and niki definitely enjoyed it! but to niki, she knows quackity isn't always this upbeat, or this loud and obnoxiously in your face, so when a slower song plays, she asks quackity if he can just shuffle alongside her slowly and follow her mellow footsteps. he calms, and she calms, and the conversations had dwindled into something more familiar. after a certain while, quackity admits that he's missed this, he's missed being vulnerable, he's missed being genuine, he's missed being soft and laidback, so niki tells him thst he's allowed to be that way for the rest of the dance.

and last person she's danced with was fundy. and fundy, she's definitely talked with before the dance, but she also calls in eret to join them. they boogie to an upbeat rhythm, dancing as if this feeling of euphoria and happiness was something they've experienced all their lives. niki knows that, often, whenever they meet up, there's always something that reminds them of their past faults, so they never got to be the way they were before the wars. so now, niki tries her best to make it different. that fun they had when they pranked tommy in the past, or find foxes together, or build weird statues— she will try her best reincarnate those feelings of pure happiness through stupid dance moves and stupid jokes because she misses it, and she will try her best to fix the friendship so that it'll be same, perfect thing it once was.

jack is pretty complicated, because i don't know much about jack, but i'd say he is one of quackity's... less responsible business partners. knowing jack, fundy and schlatt try their best to not get quackity to jump on his ass because quackity often gets mad at the ridiculous deals and offers jack gives.

i'd say that jack is just... having a pretty rough time. fundy and schlatt denote that he's kind of lonely, and his demeanor is very similar to quackity's wherein he uses irritation and/charm to mask the hurt they experience. and quackity... does soften up to that. he knows what it's like to feel alone and be left alone by people out of nowhere, so quackity decides to give jack another kind of offer: jack transfers ownership of their hotel back to tommy, and quackity will give jack a job offer to work at las nevadas' hotel. in that way, quackity doesn't need to make multiple exchanges with jack's business; he just needs jack to work for him lmao

so yeah, it's kind of a lax job. the hotel isn't the most booked all the time, but jack does enjoy managing the front desk since quackity actually allows him to get mad at shitty customers lmao. jack doesn't stay there 24/7 of course—if he wants to leave, he can just depend on fundy's redstone to do the work—but he does like working there because nobody looks down upon him. he feels like he has something he can do that he can do well, and nobody is looking at him as if he was inferior. sure, quackity and him are still not on the best terms, but jack doesn't feel like he's being belittled at all.

i'd say jack and sam kind of are friends too? because while schlatt, quackity, and fundy have their own thing, sam and jack manage las nevadas more on the sidelines, but they relate at the fact that they just casually do their own thing in las nevadas. it doesn't feel too awful or violent or belittling— it just feels normal.

sometimes, jack would visit the bar right after it closes to just. drink and talk to sam about... well, anything, really. these talks would typically last through the day, and they're kinda just glad they have found someone to talk to about, well, anything. it's hard to find a feeling of normalcy in the dream smp, let alone a feeling of peace and serenity, so even if they find this chill ambiance in a bar or a casino, they both still revel in the feeling of peace. they're happy with it, so they'll do whatever they can to maintain it.

#mcyt #dream smp #fundy #eret #jack manifold #nihachu #quackity #jschlatt #famberg las nevadas au #long post

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