#yeah no I’ve done needle felting and this is insane

[batsandbugs]

Bruce Wayne's Headache Classification System Chapter 4

IKEA Verse

AN: I'm so sorry for disappearing for months again, things have been very hectic for me, but I finally got this done so at least I'm starting off the new year strong. No promises as to when the next one comes out. I hope y'all enjoyed this fun little look at the girls. I wish I included them in the first story, but I wasn't thinking at the time. I choose Steph for the POV because I felt her internal snide commentary could help balance Cass's more quiet reserve. There was an alternative ending for this that had Marinette using her powers more, but I decided to go with something softer and mushy. It felt in line with where Marinette would be comfortable showing the depths of her powers and continuing to drive the Batfam insane by not finding out how her powers work.

Chapter 4: Interlude - The Stalking of Daminette, a Treatise by Steph and Cass

Slate grey skies hang heavy over Gotham promising rain. The city isn’t any less busy for it, especially not during the day when most sane people agree, on average, it’s safer to conduct one’s business. Steph thinks that’s boring of them, but eh, she parkours over rooftops and punches goons as a night job, so maybe she’s the crazy one.

Wait. Weather. Grey Skies. Rain on the horizon and all that jazz.

Not the best of circumstances for a stakeout, but they’ve survived worse.

The rooftop they posted themselves on is comfy at least. No bird’s nests, piles of beer bottles, or scattered needles. Not too high they can’t observe the streets below. But not too low to the ground for people to notice they’re hanging out up here. Which is, strictly speaking, not exactly legal.

Also, they don’t want Damian to spot them.

Steph sighs, peering down at the coffee shop she knows Damian is sitting at, but she can’t see. She pops an M&M in her mouth and nudges Cass. “Pass me the binoculars?”

Cass lowers the equipment with a blank face stare. Well, blank face to anyone who wasn’t siblings with her. Steph is familiar with her pseudo-adopted sister’s micro-expressions. This one read clear as day, ‘why didn’t you bring your own?’ 

Steph blows out a frustrated pout, “I forgot, okay? Damian slipped out of the manor all wily and suspiciously and we followed him on a whim. I didn’t think to grab them. Couldn’t figure we’d pull a stakeout on our own little brother.” 

Cass signs, “I had mine with me.”

“Yeah, well we don’t all hide stakeout equipment on us at all times like over-paranoid busybodies!”

“You had snacks on you.”

Without a trace of guilt, Steph grabs another M&M and places it in her mouth. “Snacks are not surveillance equipment. They’re a normal thing to keep in your bag.”

“Your bag also contains mace, a taser, and smoke pellets too.”

“It’s Gotham, sis. That’s just best practice.”   

Cass rolls her eyes, but hands over the binoculars. 

“Yay! Thanks.” Steph places them to her eyes. It takes a second to adjust before she focuses on the cafe down the street. Damian sits at an outdoor table, alone, sipping a drink out of one of those tiny white teacups.

Pshh, what a pretentious little twerp.

“Wonder who he’s meeting?”

“IKEA girl?” Cass says aloud softly since Steph’s looking down the street and can’t read her hands.

Steph grins wildly, searching blindly for another M&M with one hand, holding the binoculars steady with the other. “Oh, I hope so. Timmy’s frantic rambling over her is the most entertained I’ve been all year. And Jay’s spittin’ steam over her little trick on him.” 

“Dick’s worried.” 

Steph waves a hand clutching three pieces of candy with a careless air. “Dick’s always worried, Cass. He’s a serial worrier. He doesn’t know how to do anything but worry.” 

Steph pops the chocolate into her mouth, watching Damian peer up from his phone and scan the street with keen eyes. She’s, like, seventy-two percent sure he doesn’t know they’re watching him. After all, they’re halfway down the street, fifteen stories up, lying belly down on the roof of an office building. But it is Damian. The League and Bruce trained him. Steph’s still convinced the little brat has the psychic power to know when he’s followed. 

“No info.” 

Steph sighs at the short-remark reminder of her family’s tendencies to stick their noses fucking everywhere. “Yeah, well maybe she has decent cyber security for her life. More people need to do it these days.”

Silence. 

Groaning, Steph grabs another few M&Ms out of pure stress. “You went looking too, didn’t you?” 

“Little brother.” 

Good lord, this family. They’re lucky she loves them so much.

“Yeah, yeah, I care about the brat too, doesn’t mean he needs his hand held constantly. He can make his own choices. Including hanging out with people, regardless of if his extremely invasive family managed to compile a dossier on her entire life.” 

“You said we follow.” 

Steph scoffs through a mouth of chocolate, “Yeah, ‘cause he was actin’ sus, just because I think we should leave her alone doesn’t mean I don’t think we should annoy him by stalking his date.” She focuses back on Damian. “Plus,” she mutters. “I don’t want to deal with Bruce bitchin’ about that car chase we pulled with the Volkov Family gang members, so this seemed like the better option.”

It wasn’t their fault the stupid goons running point from the pet shop’s back room decided to run on them.

“We helped,” says Cass resolutely.

“I don’t think B will see it that way.” Steph readjusts the binoculars and notices Damian’s attention sharpening. He looks out onto the sidewalk, eyes focusing on a person drawing closer. “Oh, oh, oh I think she’s here!”

There, approaching the café, in the cutest little yellow dress, a woman approaches and pauses by Damian’s table. Thanks to the high-tech binoculars she can view every emotion flickering across Damian’s face as his newest acquaintance greets him. He places down his cup and vacates his seat, pulling out the opposite chair and allowing the young woman to sit, before retaking his own.

Steph whistles lowly.

“Hmm…” prompts Cass.

“I- I don’t think the others are joking. He- he just pulled out her chair for her.” They are all capable of manners. Alfred made sure of that. Even for those in the family who’d joined later. (The disparity between the manners the Drakes’ taught Tim and the actual behavior expected of a Wayne was night and day and not in a good way. Meanwhile, people like Cass or Damian needed teaching ground up how to interact with people without pulling weapons on them. Quite frankly so did the rest of them, but Alfred was unafraid and whipped them all (metaphorically) into shape.)

So, yeah, manners.

Something they all could do.

But not necessarily likely to be performed by all.

Especially Damian.

Damian is like a feral raccoon who wields a bowie knife when it comes to Untested People. Short. Prickly. Rude in the way where you know you’re getting insulted, but the conversation already turned the corner and you stand there, shell-shocked, that this kid verbally bested you six ways to Sunday.

Of course, Damian isn’t much of a kid nowadays.

Standing as tall as Bruce and starting to shake off the lankiness of his teen years, Damian was growing into, as a posher person might say, 'a fine young man’. Steph still remembers him as that little feral kid, who only smiled when besting others or petting furry creatures. But no, now he’s smiling at other things. Adult things. Things that happened to include pretty French girls.

“She’s dangerous,” says Cass.

Steph pulls down her binoculars to find Cass peering at the seated couple with her phone, camera mode engaged, and zoomed in to see their interactions.

“Why didn’t you use that in the first place?!” Steph asks, annoyed. Reaching towards the candy wrapper her fingers find empty plastic. Damn it.  

 Cass narrows her eyes at her screen, ignoring the question. Steph huffs. Rude.

“What do you mean dangerous?” Replacing the binoculars, she focuses back on the couple. If she didn’t know who Damian was, her eyes would slip over them as another pair of lovebirds, eking out a final moment of good weather before Gotham’s stormy ways crushed the vibe. “She’s a little slip of nothing.”

“So am I.”

Steph rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but you were trained to fight since birth. She looks like the human embodiment of sunshine.” And the woman does. From this angle, she sees both their faces while they talk. The girl, Marinette, has sleek black hair possessing a blueish shine. Striking bright blue eyes and a smile that lit her face like the summer sun contribute to the overall impression this was a very normal, very friendly person.

“Looks are deceiving.”

“Of course, they can, and I’m not sayin’ she’s not sus, but…” she gestures down. “Look at them! This is the most normal I remember Damian acting in his life. Would he do that, could he really do that if he thought she was dangerous?”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me! I’m serious! Sure, she might have powers, so what? Lots of people are magical and metas these days. Doesn’t mean she’s inherently dangerous.”

“No info.”

“Good security.”

“Something to hide.”

“A healthy sense of caution.”

Cass snorts. “She moved to Gotham.”

Steph pauses. And yeah, when you consider where the girl came from (Paris! Freaking Paris) and what she was studying… Moving to Gotham for a fashion degree sounds like moving to Las Vegas to join a nunnery.

“Yeah, okay that’s weird, I fully admit that. But maybe she has, like, I dunno? A danger kink or somethin’?” Steph shrugs. “Which, you know, is kinda good 'cause I think the demon brat has one too, so they’re like a match made for each other.”

Cass shoots her a highly unimpressed look.

“What!? At least I’m trying to think of somethin’ plausible, instead of jumpin’ to the doomsday scenario like the rest of you paranoid weirdos.” She turns back to her binoculars and her long-distance observing. “Listen, doin’ the whole overbearing intrusive family routine maybe isn’t the best way to act the first time Damian has, voluntarily, shown interest in a person more than complimentin’ their fightin’ skills.”

She places the binoculars back up to her eyes and watches Damian and Marinette chat. Damian’s smile hasn’t disappeared yet. In fact, it’s grown even larger. Marinette says something, her accent strong enough to throw Steph off on the exact words, and Damian throws back his head in laughter.

It’s a normal human reaction, laughing with such abandon. But it’s so not for Damian, that Steph’s mouth drops open in shock.

“Please tell me you took a picture of that?” she asks. Dick is so bound to freak the fuck out when he sees this.

“Mh hmm,” Cass hums in agreement.

They probably spend another thirty minutes watching the young couple. Cass takes pictures, and Steph makes commentary whenever Damian or Marinette looks sickeningly sweet. Cass sends the photos over to Steph’s phone, and in turn, she sends them to Dick. Most people would probably find it mind-numbingly boring, but both of them spend hours casing joints and running point of stakeouts before, so less than an hour is easy. But as the top of the hour approaches, the grey skies grow darker, and rumbling thunder appears.

Steph watches Damian blink as if shocked the weather suddenly turned bad.

Shit. Bruce would so kill him for that lack of awareness. “He’s in so deep,” she mutters.

“No covering. Will get wet,” Cass warns about their own situation.

Steph sighs, placing down her binoculars. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Damn it, I wanted to keep watching them.”

Cass tucks the phone into her pocket with a sly smile and signs, “I took plenty of photos. We should go and find cover. Can’t head home yet because we took the bikes.”

“Yeah,” Steph mutters. Quickly though, she grabs the binoculars again and looks back at Damian and Marinette. The couple grabs their umbrellas – smart of them, too bad Steph didn’t think of those when she impulsively decided to follow Damian – and head off down the street. Together.

The date, apparently, isn’t over yet.

“Do we wanna trail them?” she asks Cass. “Any chance you stored umbrellas in that bag of yours?” Half joking, half serious. What? You never know.

Cass shakes her head though. “No, but I do have ponchos. Do you want to follow them? They’ll be heading inside. Damian will surely spot us.”

Steph snorts, highly doubting it. “He’s so damn distracted at the moment, I’m pretty sure an alien invasion could happen down the street and he wouldn’t notice unless little-miss-sunshine started screamin’.” She grins, wide and mischievous. “Pass me a poncho sis. We’re not giving up this hunt yet.”

Despite the high-quality ponchos, they still end up quite soaked. That’s the tradeoff for having an unnoticed trail high above their intended targets. Sharp stabs of water bite at their faces, as they race across the rooftops. Steph’s shirt clings stuck to her body, damp and humid between the poncho and her chest. Damn, a shower is gonna feel soooo good later.

For any normal person, the weather would make it impossible to follow the young couple. Not to mention the distance from the ground. But Steph and Cass were trained by the best hunters in the world, following their prey was simple – if very wet and uncomfortable – matter.

Rain pours from the sky even faster, thunderous noise drowning out all other sounds, and quickly empties the streets below. The typically numb Gotham populace seeking shelter from the crappy weather. Eventually, Marinette and Damian duck into an older building, the overhead awning buckled in from the rain collecting on top. The windows are dimly lit, and a cracked and faded sign flickers reading:

MAGNUS ANTIQUES ~ EST. 1902

Cass and Steph cross over the street with a quick grapple line. Both wouldn’t dare under normal circumstances; it’s the middle of the day and they aren’t even in domino masks. The slip in procedure would hardly endanger them with nobody around, heavy clouds turning the early afternoon dark as dusk, and the rain pouring thick sheets, obscuring even the highest tech cameras. They land on a building next door, and carefully climb down the siding, landing in the alleyway, behind the antique store.

A young man, in his mid-twenties, slouches against the brick wall a few feet down the alley huddled under another old and tattered awning that barely keeps him dry as he vapes. The shop’s back door sits propped open with a crate, and it takes all of a second while the man leans against the old brick façade with his eyes closed enjoying his few minutes of damp peace for Steph and Cass to slip quietly inside through the back door.

Score!

An old, musty smell hits them as they creep through the back entrance. Piles of boxes line the walls, old antiques half-boxed, or laid on shelves. The store is dark and stale. All of old Gotham oozes an aura of grime and darkness to it, like no matter how hard you scrub the walls and floors will never be clean, the shadows grow thicker in corners, and the cold lingers even in the depths of summer. But that might just be the fault of an old store with even older objects inside. Steph’s never put much stock on that old fairy tale of Gotham being cursed and all.

Under a worktable sits a box – of what she could generously call towels but would more accurately call rags – and they wriggle out of the rain-soaked ponchos. Steph stuffs the soaked ponchos in the box and pulls out a handful of the least questionable-looking rags. Handing one to Cass, Steph does her best to sop up the worst of the water.

“I’m gonna get blisters later,” Steph whines softly, her toes wriggling in soaked-through socks.

“You always have blisters, all of us do,” signs Cass, drying the front of her shirt.

“No, we have calluses, we haven’t formed blisters since we were teeny tiny baby vigilantes who didn’t know shit and our bodies thought they had the right to strike about their living conditions.” Steph tries to wrangle the water out of her hair. “We wear waterproof suits though, so my feet don’t get regularly soaked.”

“Well, sorry for not having pocket rainboots too,” Cass signs sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“How unprepared,” Steph shoots back, gaining another eye roll in return.

Steph pulls her hair into a ponytail and wrings out her shirt and feels slightly more human now they’re back on dry land. Cass, with her pixie cut, vigorously scrubs her hair with a towel before it flops out, mostly dry. Lucky.

Quietly, both of them creep out of the back workroom. A glistening crystal doorknob attached to an old wood door sends Steph cringing when it creaks open into the store proper. Dim lighting flickers above, a high wine pitch of electricity crackles in the old wires. Tall shelves chock full of nick-nacks and blasts-from-the-pasts cast the store in even deeper shadows. Heavy rain pounds the building’s walls, mixing with the hum of electricity. Barely any light pierces through the charcoal clouds, which traps the store in an evening aesthetic rather than the middle of the afternoon.

Steph turns to Cass, signing, “Spilt up? Or stick together?”

Cass shakes her head. “Stick together, two chances to spot us are worse than one moving target.” Steph nods in agreement.

The store is quiet, minus the rain and a faint sound of classical music drifting from the front. Steph pads softly over wooden floorboards, which look like they’ll creak if you look at them wrong, and Cass follows behind, silent as a mouse. Rows of shelves stretch from front to back, ladened down with objects, Furniture and old clothes pile up on the sides. It is a chaotic, yet organized mess. None of it’s her style, but she’s sure Tim would enjoy it in here.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they creep from aisle to aisle listening for the low drawl of Damian’s pretentious voice. The store’s chaos turns what should be a straightforward search into a winding maze, but eventually right before they turn a corner, Damian’s distinctive scoff rings through the air and stops Steph and Cass in their tracks before giving the game away.

Ducking into one of those separated booths – the kind most antique stores were made of, creating tiny stores within one big one – a genuine score, because Magnus Antiques only sported a few. Fully cluttered with racks of mothball-smelling vintage clothing, the booth made for a perfect hiding spot, while also allowing them full-view access. Steph swipes a dull scarf off the table and ties it over her head, helping to disguise her distinctive blonde hair, as she hides halfway into a rack of big, dull winter clothing. Cass, using her smaller size and an all-black outfit, gracefully climbs an antique dresser and camouflages with an elaborate black feathered bouquet.

Truly, masters of stealth.

Damian and Marinette walk into view; fully focused on the shelves before them, and completely oblivious to the stalker duo creeping in on their date.

“I can call us a car. We do not need to linger until the storm passes,” Damian says with that highly entitled vibe he always gives off, despite Steph knowing Damian’s pretentiousness is mostly a font these days.

“Oh, come on Damian,” chides Marinette, crouching low to look at the bottom shelf. Her accented lilting voice is soft but carries in the quiet store. “It’s just a little bit of bad weather. There’s no reason to call a person to drive through it, we don’t want anyone hurt in an accident. We can wait it out here.”

Damian’s face contorts, “Here?” Eyeing the shelf full of porcelain dolls with dread – which, you know, totally fair. They were creepy as fuck.

But Marinette rolls her eyes and shifts through the pile on her side. “Yes, here. It’s like a treasure hunt, you never know what you’ll�� find.” She pushes a large black blanket off a cardboard box and smiles wide. “Ooh, see, a whole box full of ribbons and trim.” She fully falls to the floor and starts pulling rolls out of the box.

“Careful, we are likely to find germs.” Damian swipes a finger across the shelf and pulls it away covered in dust. He grimaces. “Or tetanus.”

Marinette giggles, like actually giggles, and not out of politeness either. She genuinely finds Damian’s offbeat, dry-as-a-bone, humor funny. Steph, safely out of sight, rolls her eyes. Oh, good lord, they’re perfectly horrible for each other.

“Says the man willing to climb into a box store air vent shaft at the drop of a hat.” Steph watches as Marinette sets aside a number of trims to buy.

Damian places a hand against his chest, offended. “That was tactical. This is stubborn desperation.”

“We were on the run, sounds a bit like desperation to me.”

“On the run? We were hunting our prey.”

Marinette’s face turns questioning, “Oh I’m sorry, did you not get chased by Jason with a nerf gun through half the store and the back areas? Was I not barely outrunning Dick before I took out the store’s electricity? We won by luck and the skin of our teeth. That does not sound like apex predators to me.”

Damian turns to the shelf he’s standing on, and, with a mutter, Steph barely makes out, says, “We could have taken them.”

“Sure, in a fight,” says Marinette without skipping a beat. And oh, isn’t that interesting. Steph knows the boys don’t tone down their personalities and skills the same way Bruce does (he doesn’t so much as tone down, as does a complete one-eighty, but it works for B, so Steph ain’t hatin’) when out of costume, but even they wouldn’t be so stupid as to act completely like their vigilante selves. It’s still, you know, not a lot, and Marinette probably saw more than most due to the game’s competitive nature. So, for her to say she could take them in a fight, with certainty, means she thinks quite highly of her own skills.

She could totally be overestimating herself.

Or… the rest of the family could be right, and Marinette is very dangerous indeed.

“… but we weren’t trying to take them in a fight, we were trying to outlast them. And anyway, it’s a moot point, we won, they lost, and now they hate me.”

Well, at least she was perceptive, Steph would give her that.

“They don’t hate you,” Damian shoots back.

Marinette rises from the floor holding an old roll of ribbon, bright emerald green, the lettering faded and worn on the cardboard spool. She lets out an inelegant snort, “Fine, Dick is suspicious, Tim is frustrated, and Jason hates me.” 

Oh, she’s very perceptive.

Damian pauses for a second, then tilts his head and smiles thinly. “Yes, it is quite likely Todd does hate you. But he should blame me, not you. I told you what to say. He’s directing his anger all wrong.”  

Steph blinks. That was��� a shocking amount of self-reflection from the demon spawn. All directed towards this tiny little slip of a woman who looked like she could barely harm a fly, much less impress the likes of Damian Wayne. At this point, Steph has to believe this girl is magical because this shit is just unreal.

“Perhaps, but what I said obviously scared him-”

“That’s what we were trying to accomplish,” Damian mutters, mulishly.

“And one day I will learn the context of it, so I can properly apologize.” Steph watches Marinette’s eyes; focused and regretful. “I know I do not have their trust, and I do not have the right, but when I do, I will.”

Damian’s face flickers through emotions faster than a roulette wheel, eventually settling on a variation of soft and amazed Steph’s only seen on a besotted movie protagonist. And barely makes out his words. “I have no doubt you will earn those secrets. Your heart is big enough, and your will strong enough to melt my family’s own.”

Oh.

Oh.  

Steph's mouth falls open in complete shock. Damn… just, damn.

This isn’t just a crush.

This is full-on, head-over-heels, besotted beyond belief, in love.

Damian is implying Marinette is important enough to earn the details of Jason’s death, to know why he was so scared of his family being hurt and dying and him unable to help (yeah, Jason ranted to her about Marinette’s little speech; yeah, it was harsh, but what else could you expect from Damian, he doesn’t do shit by halves). All of that implies she’ll learn of their identities, the biggest secret their family kept under lock and key. Only a handful of Justice League members and assorted friends (and enemies) knew of their full identities.

This is a girl Damian met two and a half days ago.

Steph, nearly so lost in her own shock and incredulity, almost misses Marinette’s reaction.

Face flushed and eyes tilted down, Marinette’s smile conveys embarrassment, joy, and a hint of sadness all at once. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re very sweet?”

Sheepishness seeps into Damian’s face and body, as he raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, a move making him look exactly like Dick. “Most people say the exact opposite, or they are in the middle of cussing me out.”

He’s not wrong.

Marinette's smile grows wider, “Well, I’m-”

“Not most people.” Damian and her finish together with a look building the foundation of an inside joke.

“No, all the more I learn of you,” Damian says, tone fond. “I find you are definitely not most people.”

“I aim to impress,” Marinette says, with a sly and besotted smile, and Steph doesn’t know if she will pass out from the sweetness or vomit, and at this point, it could go fifty-fifty. The woman looks over Damian’s shoulder. “Looks like the rain stopped.” Steph vaguely sees weak rays of light coming from the store’s front. The kind indicating the Gotham sun, a rare and noteworthy presence, has burst through the clouds to shine upon rain-soaked streets. “I should probably head back to my apartment before it starts again; I have a commission project to work on.”

Damian readjusts himself, folding away the soft, besotted emotions until he looks more like himself again. “And I need to return home as well, my father’s back from his business trip and will wish to speak with me.” He winces, “He is most likely already speaking with my brothers, which means I need to run interference before they blow the entire situation out of proportion.”

Marinette smirks, unrepentant and teasing, and for the first time Steph understands why Jason kept ranting ‘she’s just as demented as he is’, “To be fair, we did set Tim on fire, and break the store multiple times.”

Damian smirks right back, and “First off you broke-”

“We, don’t forget your part with the display and tying up a security guard.”

“-second, we set fire around him, he wasn’t hurt. No one got hurt. Except for their pride.” He pauses, and amends, “Well, perhaps that unpleasant woman at the end had an aneurysm with her screaming, but that’s hardly our fault, so it shouldn’t count.”  

Both of them laugh until it fades into a contented silence. Then, Marinette places a dainty hand on Damian’s arm, and says, “This was fun. We could… do it again sometime?” For the first time, uncertainty crosses the young woman’s face.

Damian’s face, on the other hand, is as eager as Steph has ever seen it. Wow, what must his head and chest feel like with all these new intense emotions bandying about? “Uh, o-of course, yes, this was fun. We’ll… text?”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Marinette leans down and picks up the small pile of trimmings and ribbon she found in the box earlier. The spool of emerald ribbon balanced on top.

“You took the bus in? I can walk you to the stop?” Oh, kid; if he had a tail, it would be wagging.

Marinette tilts her head, “Didn’t you ride in on a motorcycle? Shouldn’t you take advantage of the break in the rain?”

Damian shrugs off the offer, “I drive in far worse than a little rain regularly..” 

“Don’t compromise your safety for my own, I can take care of myself perfectly fine,” Marinette says. 

“I’m sure you can, but I want to,” insists Damian. “I parked near the bus stop’s location, it will be no trouble.”

“Alright then, maybe on the way you can tell me more about that art store you mentioned was down my way, I’m looking for a new set of brushes; mine became damaged in the move.” They walk down the aisle and swiftly out of view and hearing range.

Steph doesn’t move, and neither does Cass until Marinette pays for her purchases, and they hear the door to the shop open and close with a creak and a chiming of bells. A second more passes by, before Steph slips out of the clothes rack, and Cass descends the dresser, and they stand in silence for a moment.

“Whelp,” Steph says, popping the p. “That was certainly something. I don’t quite have the words for it yet, cause my brain’s still rebooting. How about you Cassie?”

Cass shakes her head, then pauses, contemplation playing across her features. “I still think she’s dangerous. Her body has the grace of a fighter, with years of practical experience moving quickly and efficiently. But I don’t think she uses her magic, whatever it may be, to influence Damian.” Cass smiles, now looking like a cat holding a canary between her lips. “That’s all due to him being very, very in love.”

“Great, so I wasn’t the only one seeing literal hearts in Damian’s eyes, cool, cool, cool.” She stretches her arms high above her head, spine popping brutally, as she tries to get feeling back in her limbs after observing the two lovebirds for long. “Well, I’m not in the mood to deal with Bruce and his game of twenty questions, so what say we go eat? How ‘bout the new Italian place that opened near my apartment, worse case it starts raining again and we head back there, we covered and hid the bikes well enough.”

Cass nods and they leave the store, passing by an ancient old man seated at the front desk totally absorbed in a creaking leather tome. Summer sun barely peaking through gaps in the clouds. It hasn’t truly stopped raining yet. The sky drizzles a small smattering of rain, and fog mists up from the pavement. It’s a pleasant change from the chaotic, faint oppressive feel of the antique shop.

Steph’s brain turns over the interactions she witnessed between Damian and Marinette. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. People meet, flirt, and fall in love all the time. But it just is because it’s, well, Damian. Even as a little kid he always seemed so removed, he really wasn’t, but he was good at pretending. Steph never pictured him falling in love, not because he wasn’t capable of it, but because she always thought he’d be too prickly for anyone to break through his walls. And certainly not a civilian who had no clue about their double lives.

Steph hopes everyone comes out on the other side, lives, and emotions relatively intact, and in the meantime, she plans to wring this situation for all the blackmail material it’s worth.

[dumdumsun]

Lost and Found

A/N: Oh, to start writing the sequel or finish my IT fic...

Warnings: bullying

Word Count: 2186

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Chapter Five: Holly, Jolly

“No skates today, sweetie?” Karen asked her daughter who had just reached the end of the staircase. Doc looked up at her mother with a smile, backpack hanging from one shoulder.

“Uh, no... I learned my lesson yesterday.”

“Well, alright. The boys are downstairs.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She nodded and walked past her to get to the basement. As she came to the last step, she saw the boys huddled around the table. El was on the couch with Mike’s walkie, the static whirring from it.

Mike looked up at his sister and nodded in acknowledgement before looking back at his friends. “We just tell our parents we have AV Club after school. That’ll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood.”

“You seriously think that weirdo knows where Will is?”

Doc’s nose flared with the heavy sigh she let through it at the insult Lucas constantly used for El. Mike seemed to have felt the same way about it. “Just trust me on this, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Did you get the supplies?”

“Yeah,” Lucas reached behind him and grabbed his backpack as Doc joined them at the table, Dustin smiling at her in greeting. “Binoculars… from ‘Nam. Army knife… also from ‘Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana… and the wrist rocket.” He listed each item as he placed them on the table, holding the last one up with pride.

“You’re gonna take out the Demogorgan with a slingshot?” Dustin complained.

“First of all, it’s a wrist rocket,” Lucas firmly defended. “And second of all, the Demogorgan’s not real. It’s made up. But if there is something out there, I’m gonna shoot it in the eye,” He pulled his “wrist rocket” back before quickly letting it go, causing the three to flinch. “And blind it.”

Mike sighed and turned to his other friend. “Dustin, what did you get?”

Wordlessly, Dustin grabbed his backpack and poured his supplies out onto the table. The three silently sighed at the pile of junk food now occupying his side of the table. “Well, alrighty. So, we’ve got… Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana, and trail mix.”

“Seriously?” Lucas blinked.

“We need energy for our travels! For stamina! And besides, why do we even need weapons, anyway? We have her.” He motioned to El, whose eyes flicked up to them.

“She shut one door!”

“With her mind! Are you kidding me? That’s insane! Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do,” Dustin moved over near El and moved a blanket that covered a plastic model of the Millennium Falcon and picked it up. “I bet… that she could make this fly!”

Doc rolled her eyes. “Dust, come on…”

He held a finger up and turned to El. “Hey. Hey,” He whispered, the girl staring up at him. “Okay, concentrate. Okay?” He smiled and held the toy out to her before letting go. The model fell to the ground as El stared at him with raised brows. While Doc was amused at Dustin’s failed attempts to show off her powers, Mike was fed up.

“She’s not a dog!” He scolded before turning to his sister. “Doc, what’d you bring?”

Doc set her backpack down and took out two first aid kits, setting them on the table in front of her. “These are my two back-up kits. The first contains gauze, band-aids, face masks, rubbing alcohol, disposable gloves, a pulse oximeter, elastic bandages, cotton balls, a thermometer, medical tape, an ice pack, scissors, tweezers, and hand sanitizer. In the other one is hydrocortisone cream, cough medicine, hydrogen peroxide, antibiotic cream, eye drops, and Tylenol,” The boys gawked as she reached into the small pocket of her bag and took out two items. “Also my backup needle and thread. I can do stitches if I ever need to. I’ve done it for myself more than once.”

Lucas grinned. “See? This is why we wanted her in the Party!”

“She’s a genius.” Dustin happily sighed. Doc stuffed her supplies back into her bag as Mike rolled his eyes.

“She brings that stuff with her everywhere she goes.”

“And do you ever see me sick?” Doc cheekily chirped. “Also, I brought antiseptic wipes. You can never be too safe, guys.”

The boys chuckled before Karen called for the four to head upstairs for school. Lucas and Dustin grabbed their things hurriedly and rushed up the stairs. Doc zipped up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked up to the girl on the couch. El looked up at her as Mike sat in front of her on the floor. “See you later, El.”

“See you…” She whispered, the two reaching out and brushing fingertips. With a smile, Doc nodded and turned around, making her way up the steps.

After checking in on El, Mike joined the three outside. He was pleasantly surprised to see Doc mounting her yellow-and-black bike. It had been an odd change in pace. “No skates today?”

“They aren’t practical today.” She cocked her head to the side before following Dustin down the driveway and into the street.

El had done it all. Over the past few hours, she had played with the walkie, she’d gone through Mike’s toys and games, she’d eaten Dustin’s snacks. She’d even made the Millennium Falcon fly. But being subject to sitting in the basement all day simply would not do. Without hardly any hesitation, she stood from her spot on the floor and climbed the stairs out of the basement.

Her bare feet made contact with the carpeted floor as she silently explored the house. Remembering the living room, she entered and immediately climbed into the La-Z-Boy. Just as Mike had shown her, she popped up the foot rest with ease. To occupy herself, she became interested in the telephone, then the television. However, a certain advertisement sent an unsettling memory into her brain, so she shut it off immediately.

Then she remembered the upstairs.

Her feet led her to the carpeted staircase that she soon ascended. Her eyes moved past Mike’s bedroom and down the hall. There had been a door that was left wide open. Taking a deep breath, El ventured into the bedroom. The first thing to notice about it was that it was yellow. Very yellow. The wallpaper was yellow with white butterflies littering the four sides of the room. Interrupting the butterfly pattern was the occasional framed, autographed poster of Matt Dillon or Michael Jackson, the small pictures of Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn cut out of old magazines and plastered onto the wall, or the artwork done by someone her age. El knew this was Doc’s bedroom when she saw her pair of roller skates just beside her closet. In the corner of the room, beside a full-body mirror, was a small blue couch with yellow pillows. El strode over to it and sat down, bouncing a bit.

When she looked up, she nearly jumped out of her skin at the mannequin torso stand. On the mannequin was a pretty pink dress. A few threads were hanging from it, meaning Doc hadn’t yet finished what she was working on and was most likely interrupted. El’s eyes widened at the mannequin head sitting on her dresser, adorning a blonde wig. Across from her white and yellow bed was her desk, neatly organized and untouched since it was set up. What was above the desk was what had El standing to her feet and going to investigate. It was Doc’s bulletin board filled with pictures. El recognized the family photo that she had seen in the living room. There were also photos of the Wheelers on vacation, on the 4th of July, on Christmas. A few of the photos were of Doc and the Party on her or Mike’s birthday or on Halloween, dressed as crazy characters from silly movies. There were photos of two girls El had never seen. The first had sun-kissed tan skin and chocolate brown hair that was pulled into a high ponytail. The other girl was brown-skinned with wildly curly, sandy brown hair. She also had a beautiful movie star smile. The two stood on either side of Doc, cheering as the girl blew out her birthday candles. They seem so happy, El observed. How she wished she could have a life of female friends and fun. There were plenty of photos of the two girls having a grand time with Doc, but there was a certain photo booth strip that the girl noticed.

It was of Doc and Will. In the first one, the two were smiling, the second was funny faces, the third was of them tightly holding each other. And the fourth was Doc kissing Will’s cheek, the boy blushing and smiling madly at the affection he was receiving. El couldn’t help her own smile that made its way onto her face as she tilted her head.

Doc deeply cared about Will, she observed as well.

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

After the fourth rock she picked up being rejected, Doc had been just about done with the hunt for Lucas’s perfect wrist rocket rock. Huffing, she placed her hands on her hips. She heard Dustin reject Mike’s rock before he prompted a question, “So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like… like Green Lantern?”

“I think she was born with them,” Doc answered. “She seems to have a good hold on them.”

“She slammed one door.” Lucas irritably reminded.

“She ripped it from your hand twice and then locked it. I think she’s pretty skilled.”

“Skilled or not, she’s not a superhero. She’s a weirdo.”

Doc rolled her eyes as Mike shrugged. “What does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos.”

Lucas turned to him with a mocking smile. “If you love her so much, why don’t you marry her?”

“What are you talking about?” Mike deadpanned.

“Mike, seriously?”

“What?”

“You look at her all like… Hi, El! El! El! El!” Lucas hugged Mike before dramatically kneeling in front of him, Dustin and Doc quietly chuckling. “Would you marry me?”

Embarrassed, Mike tried to push his friend away. “Shut up, Lucas.”

“Yeah, shut up, Lucas.”

Their laughter ceased when Troy and James approached them. Doc immediately hid behind her brother, the boy squaring his shoulders. “What are you losers doing back here?”

“Probably having a go at Lost and Found.” James sneered. “Did you have fun with us yesterday, slut?”

“Don’t call her that!” Mike exclaimed. “And it’s not funny, you guys left a cut on her throat. You seriously think that’s funny?”

Troy barked out a laugh. “I would’ve left more than a cut if she hadn’t run off.”

Doc shut her eyes to try and wash away the memory of yesterday, Dustin worriedly glancing over at her. Sighing, Mike turned to her. “Come on. Just ignore them.” He advised and walked forward. Before she could warn him, Troy’s foot was out and Mike tripped over it, falling forward and smacking his chin onto the ground. Dustin and Lucas were instantly at his side, helping him to his feet.

“Watch where you’re going, Frogface.” Troy and James laughed and high-fived before turning and walking away. Clenching her fists, Doc ran past her friends and pushed the two bullies with as much force as she could, sending them to the ground. They both groaned and exclaimed in confusion before looking up. “You little bitch!” Troy hissed as he and James got to their feet. They both took a step forward, but froze at the sight of Doc.

Her eyes were now bloodshot red and blown wide. Though her fists were clenched, what looked to be black veins peeked out the backs of her hands. Her chest heaved with labored breaths as she dared a step forward, the bullies taking two back. She looked like a wild animal.

“Fucking freak…” James muttered before the two quickly walked away.

Doc sighed and released her hands from the fists. Remembering her brother, she turned around to see the three boys staring at her in awe.

“Doc!”

“Oh, my god, you’re a badass!”

“You could’ve kicked their asses!”

Ignoring their excitement, she walked up to Mike and checked his chin, which now had a mark on it from where it smacked the ground. “Are you okay? It’s not really bleeding, but I can use my wipes once we get inside.”

“I’m fine.” Mike sighed before the four turned to watch Troy and James continue away. Dustin looked down at the ground and picked up the rock Mike had hurt himself on, presenting it to the group.

“Hey. How about this one?” He handed the rock to Mike, gently patting his shoulder.

Mike chuckled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, this is it.” He handed the rock to Lucas, who grinned in acceptance.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this is the monster killer!”

Doc couldn’t find it in herself to bond over a rock with the boys. Not when she was fixated on the new hole in the fence, a few inches away from the first and significantly wider than it.

—————————————

Taglist: @yurtletheturtlehenderson @crybabyalex @sapphicsyn @shydestinymoonalexa @nailbatbitch @that-one-multifandom-chick @ariyabella @uncompletemasterpiece @bilesxbilinskixlahey

[banqdanfnfic]

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[teddy06writes]

A Thousand Little Moments (That Help Me Heal)

Requested by @alphamoonlunala9391 "Can you do more parts of What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better please and maybe make the character a god hybrid reader"

and sort of @noctis-yeye

This is the Part three of You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now and What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better

Quackity x reader; Past mentioned Sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, existentialism? kind of? (Charlie being like, 'everything turns to dust so whats the point')

premise: it's like i said in the part two, its just gonna be a bunch of little scenes that happen in the two year gap, plus the wedding that would then happen at the end of part two for the last scene (no I don't really know how proper weddings go, all the ones i've been too were ~weird~ soooo...)

{to the asker who actually went in my inbox to request, I can't make reader a hybrid because its too late in the series to really change it}

{snowchester las nevadas conflict- we don't know her}

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

"(y/n) from Las Nevadas?"

You glanced up from your work to find Charlie at your office door, "Yeah Charlie?"

"This place 'ill be around a while right? No- no explosions like L'manburg?" He slid into the room and dropped into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

You frowned, "How do you know about L'manburg?"

"I told you- I move slow, but I've seen a lot. L'manburg was nice- but then it was gone."

You sighed, "I know... I was there- all three times. L'manburg was my home before Las Nevadas."

"If you and Quackity from Las Nevadas want me to stay here- which it sounds like you do, I want to know: Las Nevadas will be around for a while, right? I don't want it to go to dust like everything else does."

"As much as we can help it Charlie," You glanced down at your desk, "I'm not gonna let another home get destroyed."

~~

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you made it to the top of the needle.

Purpled was still sitting near the edge of the deck where he'd stayed after you'd finished the tour. It seemed the only difference now, was that behind him the sky was dark, and speckled with stars.

"You got room for company kid?" You asked quietly.

He nodded, and you quickly moved to sit next to him, "So what do you think of the place?"

"'s alright." He mumbled.

"Charlie wasn't enough to scare you off?" You chuckled.

He shook his head, "Nah... Where did you find that guy?"

"Sneakin around one of the restaurants." You laughed.

"He's insane."

"Yeah no, probably." You sighed.

Purpled got quiet again, turning to look back out over the city, "Why'd you offer me a spot here? You said it wasn't a job, so why actually offer it to me?"

You frowned, thinking for a moment, "I guess- ever since L'manburg- I don't want to see anyone else suffering on this server, especially not any more of you kids. You deserve to have a place, and people looking out for you Purpled."

"You keep saying that- but why here? How come you two are the only ones that say that?" He snapped.

Shifting to lean against the railing, you sighed again, "Did you hear about Kinoko Kingdom, when it was founded?"

"Yeah. Karl, Sapnap and George did that, didn't they?"

You nodded, "You know we were supposed to marry Sap and Karl once, Quackity and I."

"Really?" He scoffed.

"Really. Cause we'd been dating, and they'd been dating, and then Karl started hitting on Quackity, and in retaliation Sapnap was hitting on me- anyway, it felt perfect and shit right?"

"Mhhhm."

"Well then one day, right before doomsday, Karl up and disappears, and of course we're worried, but there's a war on. So once its all over, Q was devastated, cause everything he built in El Rapids was gone. He'd always wanted to just make a place for us. He disappeared too.

"Sapnap and I split up to look for them, and planned to meet up here. But- they never turned up. One day we come to find out, they went and started there own place-" You stopped, clearing your throat, and shaking your head, "They abandoned us. I don't want anyone else getting abandoned. This server tried to abandon you Purp, but I'm not gonna let them."

When you looked back over at him, there was a small smile on his face, "...Thank you..."

~~

"(y/n)! Guess who showed up today!"

You chuckled as you looked up to find Quackity leading Fundy toward where you sat at one of the tables under the needle with Charlie, "Fundy! It's so good to see you!"

"Hey (y/n)!" He smiled.

"Hello Fundy From L'manburg!" Charlie greeted excitedly.

Fundy's smile seemed to droop, "How did you know that...?"

"He knows a lot more than most people think," You said apologetically, "Anyway, how have you been?"

"Pretty alright, pretty alright." He nodded, sitting down at one of the open seats as Quackity plopped down next to you.

"That's good. It's good to see you're doing better!"

He nodded, "How have things been going over here?"

"Pretty good," Quackity grinned, "It'll be great to have another official partner on property. So far the only big one we've got living here is Purpled."

"You got Purpled to come here? Wow." Fundy chuckled.

You smiled, "Yeah, I think he's starting construction on a new UFO soon. You got any big plans for being here?"

"I'm not sure yet- but I'll figure it out," He smiled, "I've got a feeling that this place will be better than L'manburg ever could have been."

~~ "Babe, I made breakfast!"

You yawned, slowly sitting up at Quackity's call, "What kind of breakfast?"

"Pancakes!"

"And Purpled From Las Nevadas taught me to make the orange juice!" Charlie exclaimed from the kitchen.

You chuckled, getting up and tugging down the sleeves of one of Quackity's long since stolen hoodies.

Out in the kitchen, Charlie was setting a pitcher of orange juice on the table as Purpled set out plates, and Fundy dug around in a cabinet looking for syrup.

You moved over to where Quackity was flipping the last of the pancakes, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Good morning."

"Good morning babe." He chuckled.

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, ignoring the overly exaggerated gaging noise Purpled made, "Keep it to yourself!"

"Keep what to myself Purpled from UFO?" Charlie asked.

"Not you idiot!" You could hear the eye roll in his voice.

Fundy laughed, sitting up and banging his head on the cabinet.

You smiled into Quackity's back, listening to the half chaos behind you happily.

~~ "Hey Ranboo!" You greeted cheerfully as he entered the office, "What brings you here?"

"Hi (y/n), I just wanted to ask you something."

"Mhhm." You nodded as he sat down.

"Well it's Tubbo and Tommy, I'm trying to help them with all the L'manburg Schlatt, Wilbur, stuff-" He broke off with a sigh, "I just don't know what I'm doing. They need help but- I don't even know how to deal with my own issues."

You frowned, "Is it nightmares? About the festival?- or Tommy's exile?"

"Yeah... how did you guess that?"

"I know a thing or two about nightmares," You sighed, "they don't really go away like that. You aren't doing anything wrong by not knowing what to do."

Ranboo stared down at his hands, "I just feel like I should be helping them more."

"You know what helped everyone around here? Creating a home- having a place or people, that helped Fundy and Purpled, and kind of Charlie? I still don't know his deal- Anyway! just be there for them, hell, bring them here, we'll all be here for you guys."

He looked up suddenly, "Why would you guys be- why would you offer us that? We're not in your allegiance."

"I know. But I don't think any of you kids deserve what this server gives you. Bring them here or not, you all have a place here if you want it." You assured him.

"Really?"

"Of course."

~~ "AYYYY Big Q!"

Tommy's yell cut through the semi loud sounds of the crowded apartment.

"Tommy! You came!" Quackity exclaimed, "Hey Tubbo! Hey Ranboo! And is that Michael?"

The piglin squealed, running past him into the apartment, toward Purpled's dog.

He laughed, "Well, come in guys, Fundy's getting the movie thing ready, and Purp and Charlie are getting snacks and things."

Ranboo followed Tommy and Tubbo into the room as Charlie came from the kitchen, carrying the bowel of chips Purpled had told him to bring out, "Hey! It's Tubbo Underscore Beloved From Snowchester! And Ranboo Beloved Underscore From {redacted}! And Tomathy Careful Danger Kraken Innit from L'manburg!"

Purpled, who'd stopped in the kitchen doorway, "Did he just make a bleeped out fucking noise with his mouth?"

"Yeah- yeah no he did." Fundy confirmed.

"Your middle name is Kraken?" You asked, shuffling out with a stack of blankets.

Tommy nodded, "Yup."

You laughed, "That's- kind of ridiculous, why would Philza saddle you with that?"

"Well 'es not my dad is 'e?" Tommy scoffed.

"Wait seriously?" Quackity asked.

Tubbo laughed, "You really thought...?"

You shook your head, "Whatever... Fundy what's the status on that movie?"

"I'm almost done." He reported.

"Right, everyone get comfortable then." You said, dropping the pile of blankets you had been carrying.

Quackity plopped down onto the couch, pulling you to sit with him as Tubbo and Ranboo began to make a nest of blankets between the arm chair where Purpled sat and the couch.

Charlie passed around snacks and Fundy finished setting up the projector as the move began.

~~ You sighed, turning and pressing your face into Quackity's shoulder, "Thank you."

It had been a week since Karl and Sapnap had left Las Nevadas, and your fiancé had insisted that you take time off of managing things.

"For what baby?" He asked softly.

"Everything. I love you."

"I love you too." He murmured.

You smiled softly, looking up at him, "How long until that wedding?"

~~ "You ready?" Charlie asked.

You turned to him, looking up from the paper on which you'd written your vows, "Yeah... I think so."

He grinned, "Let's go then!"

You nodded as he looped his arm through yours and you started toward the doorway.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Las Nevadas!" He announced, "Here we go!"

You chuckled as you started down the isle with him, grinning at Quackity, who stood, looking already close to tears.

Purpled, Fundy, Sam, Tubbo, Tommy and Michael stood in various places around the alter, Foolish glancing down at the book he held open.

As you reached the alter, he started, "Dear people, we are gathered here today to witness the sort of? holy matrimony of (y/n) (y/l/n) and Alex Quackity. If anyone here has any objections to this union speak now, or hold your peace."

There was a silence, Michaels tiny snort being the only sound before Foolish continued, "This journey, which you have started together, will continue on now, as you walk, side by side, step by step, together, now joined in such a way that you can't really get rid of each other without a divorce."

Laughs and chuckles filled the wedding hall as Quackity shook his head, "Nope, you're stuck with me babe."

You laughed, "Good."

"Now, would you recite your vows?"

You pulled the paper from your pocket, "I'm going first. So, ever since we started seeing each other, we thought it would be you and me forever. Even after everything we went through, and even after Sapnap and Karl, its still you and me. I would say that its just you and me, but," You looked around at everyone,

"It's not just you and me, it's you and me and these guys. When we started this place, I knew that it would be difficult, especially with all the hurt that the SMP caused us. But, even as I was helping everyone here heal, you were helping me. Because you helped me find this family, and you- you gave me a thousand little moments that made me feel again.

A thousand moments that helped me heal."

[shorkbrian]

Hooked

I cannot stop thinking about!!! Tendou in the desert. Mainly because I went for a walk and found a bunch of creepy stuff, and Tendou would fit right into the creepy-desert-aesthetic. (also..... he’d be the type to have a meth trailer out in the middle of nowhere lol)

(What to expect - bad writing, a dead body, Tendou being weird. No NSFW)

He’s just absolutely batshit crazy. There’s no explanation for his actions.

Like you go for a walk in the mountains, intent on seeing a beautiful, iconic desert sunset, skies dyed pink, purple, orange and red.

It gets dark faster than you anticipated though, and you’re left trying to stumble back to your car in the pitch black night, temperature quickly dropping.

And of course, you aren’t prepared at all. It’s the desert, it isn’t supposed to get cold. So you’re shivering, freezing, skin going numb, starting to feel a bit sluggish as you wonder how the fuck it’s so fucking cold.

There’s a light off in the distance, maybe your car? Had you left the light on?

Stumbling closer, tripping over rocks and trying to avoid cactus, you try to focus on the light, on the outline. It almost looks too high to be your car.

Then you hit the dirt, foot twisting over a rock, causing you to crash onto your side, landing your hip directly onto a cactus. You screech at the stinging pain that stabs into your hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurts to stand up, and you can’t even assess the damage done, because it’s dark and as soon as you try to feel your hip, sharp spines make you cry out, pulling your hand back.

All that’s left for you to do is cry as you make your way towards the light, hoping, praying it’s your car.

As you limp closer, tears dripping down your face at the pain of the cactus spines, the cold, your now-sore ankle, you quickly discern that the light’s source comes from a house.

Specifically, a trailer.

There’s junk everywhere, piles of it, and you trip over a few stray.... well, you can’t really make out what it is, with how dark it is. But you make it to the door.

And yeah, this is super creepy. You’re out in the middle of nowhere, it’s dark, with no flashlight, no jacket. You’re vulnerable, but you’re so freaking cold, and you think there’s blood on your leg from where you’ve been stabbed with the cactus spines.

You need help.

So you gather up the courage, pray that there’s someone home, that it’s not a serial killer, and knock on the door of the trailer.

There’s a loud thump, high pitched, muffled cursing, then some shuffling. The clicking of locks on the door, and then it swings open, revealing a man holding a shotgun.

Well fuck.

He’s lanky, thin and wirey, wild red hair tangled on top of his head. Large, hooded eyes squint at you sleepily, before the man cocks his head.

“You lost?”

“Uhm, yeah..... hi.” You sniffle out, and the man’s eyes visibly widen as he realizes you’re crying, in nothing but a short sleeve shirt and a pair of pants, standing out in the cold.

The inside of the trailer is warm, and it makes your cheeks, ears, and frozen hands tingle as feeling begins returning to them. How had it gotten so cold in the fucking desert?

The man introduces himself as Tendou Satori, deputy of Shiratorizawa county. He’s not lying to you either, has the badge, the uniform - it even explains the shotgun.

He clicks his tongue when you limp inside, as light falls upon your hip and shows your jeans darkened with blood. Tells you to warm up first, sit in front of the heater vent, then he’ll help you with the cactus.

“What’re you doing way out here? City’s kinda far.”

“I was gonna watch the sunset, take pictures ‘n stuff.” You offered, wrapping the blanket he had provided more firmly around yourself. His gaze makes you uncomfortable, and you’re not sure why. It’s not like he’s going to do anything bad, he’s a police deputy.

His eyes are so flat though, still hooded even though he’s very much awake. Maybe that’s just the way he looks, but it’s a bit creepy.

“Didn’t think it’d get dark as fast as it did? Is that why you were wanderin’ around out there?”

You nodded. “Didn’t know it could get so cold either.”

Tendou chuckles, high pitched, and you wince. He sounds like a creepy funhouse clown when he laughs like that. “Ehehe, lots of people get caught off guard by desert weather. Think it’s hot all the time, can’t even imagine that it gets a bit chilly. You’re lucky I’m posted up here, otherwise you’d be a popsicle by morning!”

He was so nonchalant about the idea of you freezing to death, you didn’t know how to respond.

Luckily, you had warmed up enough to stop shaking, teeth no longer clattering together. Tendou told you to stay put while he got supplies to fix up “Your little owie!”

It was much more than a ‘little’ wound.

The trailer was filled with thick awkwardness as Tendou asked you to peel off your pants so he could get to the spines embedded in your skin. He didn’t seem to understand that you felt a little embarrassed, didn’t even turn his back as you slowly pushed them to your ankles, wincing as they dragged over your bloodied hip.

“Ok-ay! Now, this’ll hurt, so try not to scream a whole bunch, right?”

And then he was digging in with tweezers, delicately extracting cactus spines from your puffy, swollen hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurt, badly, and you started crying again, much to your embarrassment. Tendou didn’t seem to mind, kept his eyes fixed on your bloody leg as he quickly tended to it.

“I’ll be done soon, don’t worry. You’ll have to hydrate a bunch after I’m done though.”

“Why does it hurt so much? Are they poisonous?” You yelped as the man tugged on a particularly painful spine, furrowing his brows in concentration as he pulled it out.

“Oh! It’s cause they’re like little meat hooks.” He looked up at you, smiling, holding his most recent extraction with his tweezers so you could see. “They get pretty attached once they get in you, hehe, but I’ll make you better.”

Forty minutes later had Tendou finishing up, finally deeming you cactus-free after a thorough inspection. He had plucked out the large spines with tweezers, before running his hand over your skin, stilling you when you flinched, explaining that he was feeling for the small needles.

You felt insanely uncomfortable, with his hands and face that close to such an intimate area. 

“All do-ne!” The man sang, straightening his back, giving you a gleaming smile. His lips stretched too far over his teeth. “Now, I’ll get you some pants, and some water. You want to sleep in the bed with me? Or on the couch?”

What?

The panicked confusion must be evident on your face, because Tendou cackled, standing up, towering over you. 

“Can’t go back out there, you wanna die? Gotta stay until mornin’.”

“The couch please.” The choice was easy, and Tendou nodded, before disappearing through a doorway into a dark room, coming back with an armful of blankets. He tossed a pair of pajama pants at you from the pile, but you hesitated in putting them on.

“Um.... Mr.? Can I have something to wipe off the blood?” It was crusted on your leg, dried and dark brown now.

Tendou turned from making up the couch, blinked at you slowly, looked at your leg. “Guess I should do that!” 

You had to wait a bit longer, until he had arranged the couch to his liking, before the strange man fetched a wet washcloth to wipe off your leg with.

It was warm, and he was thorough as he sponged off the blood. The way he licked his lips while doing so made you feel a bit uneasy.

When you were finally clean, you tugged on your new pants quickly, finally feeling a bit more comfortable now that you were no longer exposed.

“Wanna eat before you go to bed? I have-” Tendou bent to shuffle through his fridge. “-Oh! I have applesauce! and crackers! Yum Yum!” Both items were held aloft triumphantly. 

Who kept crackers in the fridge?

You just wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m good, thank you though.”

“Okay, beddy-bye time then I guess.” Why did he talk so childishly? 

You tried to relax as he turned out the lights, bidding you good night as he shuffled back through the doorway, apparently into his bedroom.

Tomorrow you’d find your car, and everything would be fine.

-----

Tendou was sitting on the couch when you woke up, your bare feet in his lap.

“Good morning~!” His voice was so loud, you were wincing at the volume, at the sunlight streaming through the dingy curtains, at your first good look at his trailer - he’d kept it dark last night, only turning on one light.

It was clean, well, as clean as a trailer could be. Nothing suspicious or worrisome.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The man questioned, suddenly leaning far too close, his hand sliding up your calf.

“Oh-uhm-” You stuttered, blushing at the proximity, the foreign touch. “I should go find my car...”

Tendou rolled his eyes, backing off quickly. “Too boring. Also too far. It’ll hurt to walk, you won’t be able to make it.”

You raised an eyebrow, immediately testing out his claim, hissing in pain as soon as you moved your leg.

Apparently, it was swollen and sore.

He was right, walking hurt, and you barely hobbled to the little bathroom without Tendou’s assistance. Maybe he could go find your car and bring it here? It had to be close by, you hadn’t been walking for that long last night...

“So!” Tendou clapped his hands, and you started, almost bumping into him as he stood, leaning over you on the couch. “Tell me about yourself, it’s been so long since I’ve had anyone over. You have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Where’s your family? I’ve always wanted someone to keep me company here.”

“Woah, wait, what?”

Tendou chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re going to stay here with me now! I think we should get to know each other a bit, don’t you?”

Staying with him? Here? What was going on?

“Um, Mr.-”

“Tendou... or Satori, your choice.” The man interjected, before moving to flop down next to you on the couch.

“Tendou-” You continued. “-I can’t stay here. I need to find my car, and drive back to the city, back to my home. My roommate will be worried...”

“Home is here.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, it shocked you silent.

“You had a roommate though? How fun!!” He chirped, and you didn’t miss the emphasis on “had”. “You ever have sex with them?”

Tendou had moved in a second, pressed to your side, his face too close to yours, and you panicked.

“I gotta go. Really, I’m sorry, thank you for helping me out last night but I need to get going-” You were on your feet, ignoring the pain lancing through your leg as you hobbled quickly to the door, throwing it open.

A hand tugged on your shirt, pulling you off balance and forcing you to step backwards. 

“You’re leaving? But I did so much for you, you haven’t even paid me back...”

His grip on your shirt was firm, but you wriggled and writhed until he was forced to let go. “I-I promise I’ll pay you when I get to my car. My wallet’s there, you can have everything in it-”

You pushed forward, through the door, barely dodging Tendou’s grabby hands. This wasn’t right, there was something off about him, you needed to get away.

“I don’t want you to go.” But you weren’t listening to his suddenly deep, serious voice. Instead, you were frantically looking around, trying to figure out which way you had come from last night. 

There was nothing but cactus, rocks, and dirt.

“I was wishing for company the other day, y’know? It gets so lonely here, the sheriff isn’t a good conversationalist.”

The sheriff?

You whirled around, Tendou standing in the door, looking off to the side. You followed his gaze, saw the lawn chair, the upturned bucket next to it, two empty bottles of beer. There were more bottles littering the ground.... there was another lawn chair-

-and the fully-dressed body of a sheriff, half-decayed, sat in it.

You didn’t even think to scream; who would hear you out here? All you did was run, adrenaline roaring through your veins and letting you forget about your wounded leg.

“Wait!” Tendou called after you gleefully, bouncing out of the doorway. “You’re hurting his feelings! Ahehehe!!”

The man was deranged.

And you very quickly realized that there was no where to run.

Nowhere to hide.

-----

You couldn’t see your car, or anything that looked familiar. The only sounds in the air was the panting of your own breath, your feet thudding slowly underneath you as your initial shock wore off, as the adrenaline left you, as the pain returned.

It had only been a few minutes since you took off, speeding away from the unhinged madman. You were left wondering if he was really the deputy - maybe he’d killed the deputy, stolen his uniform.

Then you wondered why there was a dead sheriff in his yard. Had no one come looking for him? Where was the sheriff’s car? What was even going on?

It’s warm, the sun beginning to beat down on you relentlessly, and you curse the desert. Curse it’s unbearable heat during the day, it’s frigid temperatures at night. 

“Pretty girl!!! I found you~!” Tendou’s shrill voice had you jerking your head around, frantically trying to see where the man was. Had he been following you? Where was he, there was nothing he could hide behind!

“You want to go for a ride in my fancy car? Is that it? I’ll take you to dinner, then we’ll kiss under the moon!” The man cackled, and you determined that the voice was coming from your left.

But... there was nothing there?

Tentative, painful steps forward, towards his voice. Where was he? If you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t fight him. You needed to know where the creep was.

A careful step.

A careful step.

A careful st-

A terrified scream tore from your lungs as your foot seemingly plunged into thin air, immediately landing you on your butt as you slide down a steep incline.

It was a ravine.

You tumbled down into it’s depths, getting scraped by rocks and brush. Luckily, you slammed into something solid, metal, and it stopped your tumultuous motion.

Gaining your bearings, you stared hard at the door of the police car you’d just collided with, before a hand popped out of the window, waving at you.

“Beep beep!” Tendou snickered, his flat eyes taking in your disheveled appearance. “Let’s mess around, I’ve heard doing it in a car is fun.”

There’s no one around to hear you scream.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Fish

For @whump-advent-calendar‘s day 4-6, Burn/Candles

CW: Referenced medical whump and dehumanization, light burn (accidental), captivity, muzzling, drugging reference, reluctant whumper turned caretaker

Introduction | Siren Song | Cries | Here | Not Sure | Draw Blood | Fish | Signs

---

BAHRAM’S NOTES NOTE TO SELF - SAVE IN EXTERNAL HARD DRIVE. DO NOT LET DR. L SEE.

October 22nd, 20XX 3:45 am Mer in Residence: 19 Days

It’s time to admit I’m more or less keeping a diary at this point as I get to understanding him. So far I’ve written separate notes to myself… for ten or so straight days of the nineteen we’ve had him here, and it’s getting harder to write the official transcriptions the way Dr. L wants me to.

Dr. Lachlan insists I call the mer ‘it’, that it’s to help me distance myself emotionally since it’s such a good mimic of humanity, but I don’t think it’s a damn mimic, I think it’s just… human.

I mean, obviously it’s not HUMAN, but… Miah spelled it out for me, we had an argument about this when he first got here. She gets so angry that he’s getting hurt and you know, I guess I believed Dr. L - mer aren’t my specialty field, I’m a snake man really, I don’t know the first bloody thing about fucking cetaceans. 

Anyway, I said to her at the time, “It’s not human.”

She told me, “Maybe not H-U-M-A-N, but P-E-R-S-O-N,” just like jabbing me in the chest afterward. Also, Miah can fingerspell in a way that really makes you feel like a six year old getting yelled at by your mother, for the record. I can’t describe it any other way. I was ready to just melt away from personal embarrassment before she even finished signing “person.”

That’s not the point of this. 

I didn’t start a diary just to tell myself how right Miah is about all of this, but hey, here we are.

I need some days off so badly.

Miah wasn’t around today, it’s really just been me and the mer - I’m off for four days coming up here, after 20 days of work, and she’s going to come in and do 24-hour watch until I’m back. It’s not so bad - I don’t really know anyone here, and the bed’s comfortable enough. Dr. L’s paying rent on my apartment so I won’t lose it while I’m working, anyway.

I still feel like some low-level henchman, though. Like any moment some asshole in a tank top is going to show up with guns and I’ll just be a faceless evil stepping stone before the boss fight with Dr. L. 

I mean, we all know that Dr. L’s going to be the boss fight, right? Anders would just like lay down or throw Miah in front of himself or something.

No, that’s not fair, he really does love her.

Bahram this is all hypotheticals about a video game. Get back on track, man.

So Miah must have gone shopping or something. She came back with a bag full of these candles from this bookstore she really likes. I mean she came back with an insane amount of books, too, but she had this candle she pulled out and put down on my desk.

She set down the candle - it’s this really nice deep blue and has some kind of like ocean scene painted on the label, like, isn’t that thematic - and smiled at me. “This one reminded me of what we’re doing,” She told me, and her signs were… softer. Her expressions were softer alongside them.

Does that mean… anything? I don’t know. She just put it on my desk and then wandered off. I thanked her but I had to take her shoulder and get her to look at me, first. Maybe her face was a little red.

Maybe not. 

We keep the tank room pretty warm, I’m sort of cold-natured and the mer seems more active when we keep the lights really warm, so… 

I don’t get why she bought me a candle and why she looked away before I could thank her for it. I don’t get it, and I feel like I should, but I don’t. Is she not looking because it wasn’t a big deal, or because it was a big deal, or… what?

I really WOULD sink into the floor if Dr. L or Miah ever saw that I wrote this. Get it together, Bahram. You are not writing a diary about Miah fucking Kirsse. 

It’s been just me and the mer, all day. Dr. L was gone, too, meeting with whoever’s funding this whole thing. She’ll be gone until next week, so there’s no real work getting done, for now. Just blood draws.

She’s showing them its claws she took off. I don’t know why. Honestly, I have such a bad feeling about this, but I needed the cash and nowhere else was hiring for a job that would give me room and board and still time to work on my own research. Not that I’ve done a bit of THAT in a week.

I get too distracted by the mer.

He swims in circles. He stares at nothing, or pokes the plastic coral and ferns we got him, or hides in his cave. I can switch the screens over to watch the camera feed from inside the cave, but he doesn’t do much in there, either. I caught him picking at his scales, and I need to ask Dr. L about that. She took three scales off his tail, which for the record I had nothing to do with (whose record? I’m writing this to myself, and what the fuck does it matter about scales when I’m the one sticking the damn needle in his elbow twice a week), and I caught him sort of whistling sadly and picking at the empty spaces. 

They’ll grow back, Dr. L says. She’s not worried.

I am.

A little.

I’m starting to think Dr. L is lying about a lot of things, and I’m not sure what to do about that. If anything. This is a job, and I get paid better than I’ve ever been paid in my life. So… what do I do?

I could call the hotline and report him. It’s anonymous. 

She’d know I did it.

I don’t know why, but… I don’t want her to know it was me. Cowardice, I guess. Pure bloody cowardice.

But Miah hasn’t emailed the hotline, either. We can’t both be cowards, right?

Anyway.

Tonight was tank cleaning, which is a bloody fucking chore. Anders was around long enough to help me get the mer tranq’d and into the lift and then the rolling tank where he can just sit until I get my work done. Poor thing just lolls around when he’s tranq’d up. Barely blinks. 

Doesn’t stop its fucking crying, though.

We took a lot of blood from him today, too, so he was very weak. Barely moved, just curled himself up small so he was totally in the water and watched me work after Anders left. We’ve got a scrubber machine that does the hard work, I just have to hose some things down and then make sure its filter is still operating correctly. Watch the scrubber. Whole process takes about three hours from start to tank totally refilled, as long as I do it weekly. It’ll take much longer if I let it slide.

Double-checked the camera in the cave, and when I walked out of it I saw the mer’s head was up, watching everything I was doing. He dropped right back down under the water when he saw me looking at him. The muzzle looks so monstrous on him, but more than that, it makes him look like a monster.

Maybe Dr. L doesn’t muzzle him to keep us safe, but to keep me from seeing his expressions while I’m here with him all day.

No, that’s stupid. She doesn’t even think he’s sentient, right?

I finished up, and when I came to roll him back to the lift, I saw he’d popped his head up out of the rolling tank and was looking around the room itself. He hasn’t really looked around at all before this, and he was still tranq’d but maybe I fucked up the dosage? Because he was pretty alert, kind of whistling to himself and giving little chirps and clicks. He sounds like some weird mix of killer whale and fucking otters or something. When he saw me, he flinched back down under the water, but I had this idea.

Dr. L took his claws, and he’s still muzzled except when he’s on the table or when he eats, so like, it’s not like he can hurt me, right?

His eyes had gone to my desk, looking at… I guess all my books and papers and my laptop and everything. Maybe the candle. I waved my hand around until I saw that he was watching me again. With those big eyes it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s looking at, but when I clapped my hands he blinked at me, so I know he can hear it, can see me.

Then - and I swear I’m not lying - he moved himself up out of the water, and put his palms together. His earfins twitched out and back against his scalp, and his white hair dripped water all down his shoulders. 

He cocked his head at me. Then he put his hands together, harder this time. He clapped, and then… he clicked.

I KNEW it. I KNEW clicks were questions. Dr. L said their brains don’t work that way, but I bet they do. Who’s even considered how their brains work? Maybe they’re just like us. All the studying I’ve been doing shows that the scans we’ve done of dead ones are pretty similar in overall size and placement of their center of language. They’ve shown that mer populations have their own dialects if they don’t interact with each other, like the Atlantic transients sound totally different than the Pacific transients, which sound different than the residents that stick close to the coastlines up by Alaska...

Making my own head hurt. I don’t even care about fucking mammals, but I guess I do now. 

“That’s right,” I said when he clapped, not like he can understand but still. I said it, and I clapped again, and he clapped back. “Can you give me your head? I’ll take your muzzle off, yeah? If you don’t bite.”

Dumbest fucking idea ever, but hey. 

I think maybe he knows the word muzzle, because he whistled and shrunk down again, lowering his hands. His ear flaps flattened again. I saw the deep red marks around his neck, from how we have to use the catch-pole to get him out, and I just. I just felt like shit, you know?

I’m shit, that’s what I am, we’re torturing a child, more or less, who hasn’t done a thing to anyone but be by himself because he lost his bloody fucking family. I can’t keep telling myself I’m not the bad guy, you know? 

I’m going to jail if I report him, aren’t I? I helped bring him in, after all. There’s my whole career down the drain.

Is this how it felt when everyone was being shit to monkeys in the 70′s and calling it psychology? Did some of them just go along with it because they thought they had to?

This is not helpful, Bahram.

I sat down at my desk and tried to figure it out. His eyes were on me the whole time. I looked over at Miah’s candle, and looked at the label. Like I said, ocean scene. Fronds and ferns and…

I turned the label to face the mer, and tapped on the image with my finger. “Fish,” I said, feeling dumb as hell. I told myself, it’s a bloody animal, Dr. L would roll around laughing at you for this.

But he came back up out of the water. There was a long moment, and I heard him click, and then a soft, “Sssshhhhhh,” sound came from behind his muzzle. They have lips like ours, although their way of communicating is basically whalesong and relies heavily on underwater acoustics. He’s louder in the tank than out of it, although I guess fear might make him quiet, too.

The recordings I found on youtube they get in the ocean are deafening loud. Their voices travel so well underwater, it’s amazing. People sell fucking CDs with mersong over piano to fall asleep to. 

I poked at the ocean scene on the label again. “Fish,” I said firmly. “Do you want fish?”

He knows fish. 

I KNOW he knows fish because he sat up, held out his right arm, and tapped his elbow with a blunt-edged, broken-off claw before he looked back at me, trembling with fear. He clicked again, twice.

I can’t even tell you how shit I feel, realizing he was asking if I was going to take his blood first. That’s what he meant, it has to be. He poked at the exact spot where he’s bruised up from the needle. 

But it makes sense, right? 

He’s been here twenty days, more or less. Every couple of days, when he’s hungry enough, we bribe him with fish to get the pole on him, take blood or whatever else, and then he eats. 

No, WE don’t take his blood. I take his blood.

He thinks - and he’s fucking thinking, I know he is - that he only eats if we stick a needle in him.

I’m hurting a child.

I’m teaching a child to be hurt.

I’m not religious but this feels like the sort of thing you ask for forgiveness for, doesn’t it? I should call Maman and ask her who I could talk to. I’m going to call Maman or Baba tomorrow.

No I’m not.

What would I tell them I need to speak to someone about?

What if whoever I speak to calls and reports him, and Dr. L knows it was because of me?

I need to stop thinking about this. 

“No, NOT draw blood,” I said, and he whimpered again, held out his arm further, closer to me, tapped his elbow again. I knew he could still hurt me - their strength is prodigious, the first time we got him out of the tank he nearly pulled Dr. L down into the water with him - but I decided it was worth the risk. 

I kept thinking, he’s more scared of me than I am of him, but you know, of course he is. He’s the one with bruises.

I stretched my own arm out and showed it to him. He flinched back a little, and then leaned forward again, sitting in the little rolling tank that’s barely big enough to hold him. His blunt claws touched my arm, delicate as a feather, clicking as he poked at the sleeve of my sweater. 

“No draw blood,” I said. “Just fish. Eat.” I mimed chewing.

He looked at me and clicked twice, cocking his head, then looked at my candle from Miah, pointing at the ocean scene. “Ffff-sshhhh,” he said, muffled. 

“No, that’s a candle, it just has fish painted on it. Candle. Fire. Yes?”

Blank stare. 

Then, repeated, “Ffff-sssshhh.”

I sighed and pulled out my little lighter. I don’t smoke or anything, but I hate the way matches smell, so I have a lighter on me basically all the time. Plus, having lighters was a pretty good way to make friends back in undergrad when I gave a fuck about that. 

I flicked on the lighter, and the mer chirped, curiously. 

Has it never seen fire before?

Why would it, it lives in the ocean. Don’t be a dumbshit, Bahram.

“Fire,” I said, and held it out a little for a closer look. “Fire.” I tilted it and lit the candle, and the mer leaned forward, rapt, as the wick sparked up to flame and I blew the smaller flame on the lighter out. 

“FFfffff,” The mer said, barely audible. It clicked and held out its hand, and I wasn’t fast enough.

“No, wait stop-”

The mer’s fingertips touched the flame and it let out a deafening loud cry of pain and jerked its hand back down into the water, whimpering at the new kind of hurt, looking at me like it was MY fault, and maybe it was. Eyebrows furrowed, little crease in its forehead, big sad eyes. 

The big sad eyes are wrecking me.

“Well, don’t touch fire and you won’t burn,” I said, shaking my head. “No touch fire. Fire bad. Fire burn.”

He held out his hand to show me. “Ffff-rrrrr.” It was a plaintive little breath of air, not quite a real sound. 

The ends of two fingers were a little dark, that’s all. I could explain that by saying he’d hurt himself in the tank, maybe. I shook my head and pointed at the water, and it put its hand back in there, huffing a little breath of relief, I think. The water probably helped with the sting. 

“Right. Fire bad. No fire.”

“Ffff-rrr... buh-ddd.” 

“Right. Fire bad.” I stood up and walked over behind him, and he tried to turn and watch me but I shook my head and pointed back at the candle and he sort of huffed again and looked away. I felt him tense when my fingers touched the back of his head, but he sat still.

Probably because if he struggles when she goes to take the muzzle off or gets her fingers near his mouth, Dr. L has this electricity stick thing… 

I’m not supposed to mention that in the transcripts.

I’m not supposed to mention how he screams, and he doesn’t sound like a whale or an otter, then. He doesn’t sound like an animal.

He sounds like a child.

He IS a child

He’s just

I’m a fucking

No. I need to focus. This is stuff I can’t tell Dr. L, I need to write it down here where it’s safe.

The muzzle is easy to get off, you just need to be looking right at it, and I unbuckled and pulled it free, feeling a little resistance from how well it stuck to his face. Without it on, there are deep red lines along his cheeks and jaw, not open or bleeding, just irritated. 

He didn't grab at me, or bite. Just watched me with his big eyes as I laid it down on my desk. For a second we were both just quiet, looking at each other. 

Then he pointed at the candle again. “Ffff-sssshh.”

“No,” I said. “Candle. Fire.”

The mer’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, echoing what I did earlier. His hair slapped around. His teeth look like shark’s teeth up close, only there’s a lot less of them. “Nnnn-nnnuh,” He tried, shaking his head again.” Nnn-uh. Ffff-sssshhh.” Then he pointed at his mouth, opening wide, showing me the tongue behind his teeth. “Fffff-sssshhh. Ffff-ssshhh.”

I laughed, covering my mouth - he seems to be scared when we show too much teeth, probably in the ocean it’s a threat and they don’t smile like we do. Which, why would they? 

But, see, I realized that he wasn’t pointing at the candle at all, but at the fish painted on it. Then he moved to look at the bucket of fish he gets as a reward for obedience, and pointed at that, then looked back at me to see if I was paying attention.

Of course I was. I was barely fucking breathing. This is signs of abstract thought process, recognizing that the image of a thing isn’t the thing itself. That he can point at it to represent what he wants. “You want fish? Is that it? You’re hungry? Want to eat some fish?”

The mer blinked and made a sound like a chirp, clapped his hands together. “Rrrrr. Fff-sssshhh.” He pointed at his mouth again. “Ffff-ssshhh. Buh-rrrrmm. Ffffsshh.”

“What did you say?” I whispered. My heart went cold. I can’t describe it any other way.

“Buh-rrrrmmmm. Ffff-sssshh, Buh-rrrmm.”

The bloody thing knows my fucking name. 

He knows we have names and he knows mine and that means-... that means he has one, doesn’t it? If he has a name, if he has

I’m his fucking nightmare aren’t I 

I’m the worst fucking thing that could happen to him, me and Miah and Dr. L and Anders and this is a job but it’s the worst thing that’s happened to him and it’s only

It’s going to get worse for him.

He’s going to die here and he’ll know all our names when he does.

Anyway, so... you know... I brought him a bucket of fish.

What else was I supposed to do? 

He knows my name!

He let me put the muzzle on him again without fighting after he finished, and I got him back in the tank once the water was refreshed, and he’s sleeping off his meal now. I can see him on the feed, curled up inside the cave.

But I’m wide awake, so I thought I’d write this, because…

Because what the hell do I do now?

I can’t tell Miah.

Can I?

 ---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch @whumpfigure @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @whumpywhumper

[morizoras-cave]

Action (Request)

James McAvoy x teen!co-star!reader

Genre: slight angst, fluff

Request Description: okay cool! i've got a request, then: a teen!co-star!reader x james mcavoy where she gets an injury and tries to play it off as if she's fine and james notices and makes sure she gets proper medical attention and comforts her but scolds her about keeping it a secret if that makes sense. thank you!

Warnings: reader gets physically hurt, language, slight insecurity (ish)

(A/N): okay so, i didnt make a fic yesterday and i feel slightly bad, but its cool hahaha. im going home from vacation tomorrow, so ill have a little bit more time

“You don’t know anything!” you trembled, full of emotion. You braced yourself. You were currently filming the scene that you had rehearsed for weeks. Your character was going to be chased down by James’ character, in an attempt to fix their broken familial relationship. It was intense and difficult to shoot.

“Then tell me!” James was just as full of emotion, frustration and desperation painted on his face . He was bracing himself too, you could tell. You shook your head, just as scripted, and when James stepped towards you, you flinched back. “Tell me.”

That was your cue. You grabbed the windowsill of the open window, smoothly swinging out and landing several meters down. James looked out at you from it, and there was a moment where you stared at each other, before you dashed away, and he scrambled to get down the stairs. 

You were already running down the street, panting. Why did your director have to be so realistic? It would pay off. You hoped. 

The door to the house swung open violently and you saw James’ form exit, already sprinting towards you. Dozens of cameras were catching the entire scene.

James was much taller than you, legs and stamina allowing him to catch up quickly. 

“Shit,” you mumbled, looking around desperately. You quickly found the junkyard you were supposed to enter, constructed solely for the movie. You jumped over a white fence, entering the property of another person, to shortcut to the yard. James was right behind you. 

You continued into the junkyard, where you did several more stunts, jumping up and over things, squeezing in between narrow rows of trash. It was going very well, right up until the point where you had to jump from one heap of trash to another. 

You hesitated, both because it was scripted, but also because it was a terrifyingly large jump. I mean, you’d practiced it a ton, so you’d be able to do it, right?

You looked back and saw James there. He gave you a warning look, and you angled your head in response. Then you turned away and ran, jumping over the massive gap. 

You knew right away you wouldn’t make it. The trash gave away under you, sabotaging your jump. Flying through the air, you tried desperately to grasp the edge, so you wouldn’t fall. You almost did it, grabbing an old boot from the pile, when the boot lodged itself out of its position, breaking off your only hold on the pile.

You fell to the ground with a terrifying scream. The dust rose as you hit the earthy floor. 

The crew immediately stopped and several people came to your aid. James ran up to you, face strewn into concern and horror. He grabbed your shoulder and looked you in the eyes. 

“Y/n! Are you okay? That was quite a fall,” he said. You shook your head dismissively. 

God, that was so embarrassing. You had practiced it for weeks, and still managed to fail and waste all of these peoples time! 

“I’m good, it didn’t hurt that much,” you lied. Oh boy, it hurt. Your shoulder and arms hurt and most terrifyingly, your head hurt. But you had already wasted the crew’s time, you couldn’t postpone this by being whiney. 

“You sure?” James asked, seemingly not convinced. You gave him a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained, as it fought through the needle-like, pulsing pain all over your body. 

The director asked if you could do it again and you agreed. You did the stunt right on the second take, and although it hurt like a bitch trying to do all of it after your fall, it was worth it. 

After the scene was short several times (to your anguish), the day was wrapped up and every started getting out of their costumes and getting ready to go home. 

You and James had gotten into the habit of walking back to the hotel together, and chatting along the way, so you grabbed your things and met him by the entrance. 

“Man, that was a hard scene, don’t you think?” James asked and you just hummed, arm wrapped around your stomach in order to cease the pain. “That was quite a fall you took there.” 

“Yeah..” you mumbled, stopping when something wet touched your face. Your brows furrowed and you touched your upper lip. Search your fingers you saw blood, and realized you were having a nose bleed. “Uh-”

“Alright, that’s it,” James said, turning your attention back to him. He looked fed up and, an emotion that was unfamiliar on his features, scared. “I’m driving you to the hospital.” 

“What? No- no!”

“Yes!” he said and without another word, he picked you up, making you groan in embarrassment. 

“James, this is so unnecessary, it’s just a little nosebleed!” you complained, thrashing in his arms, but quickly stopping once you felt how much that hurt. Instead, you tried to stay as still as possible in a comfortable position.

“It’s not, Y/n. You’ve been squirmin’ in pain all day, I can tell,” he said. You knew he’d figured you out, and while you still didn’t think it was worth a hospital visit, you knew you couldn’t argue with James. 

“All right, all right! I’ll go to the hospital, but only if you put me down!” You reasoned. James stopped, considering it for a moment, before lowering you to where you could stand for yourself. Again, the movement hurt you terribly, but you put on a brave face. 

James hitched you and him a taxi, and headed to the hospital as fast as possible in the constant traffic. You sat uncomfortably, holding your stomach and biting your lip to prevent yourself from groaning. 

“Fuck,” you whispered and gritted your teeth. James looked at you broodingly. 

“You shouldn’t hide stuff like that,” he said. You looked up and met his eyes. A sighed escaped your lips. “I’m very disappointed in you for hiding it. You’re obviously in pain, N/n.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to waste everyone’s time.”

“Right, well, next time just waste their fuckin’ time! You realize you could be seriously hurt, right?” James’ voice only portrayed anger, but you could see on his face, clearly, concern and worry. The cars honked distantly outside the car. You said nothing. 

“I fucking mean it, Y/n. You can’t do this shit. Tell me that next time you’ll just say if you’re hurt,” James grabbed your hand and looked at you seriously, “Tell me.” 

A strange deja vu occurred, as your life somewhat resembled the movie. Then you looked at him and nodded, “All right. I promise.” 

James didn’t let go of your hand on the way to the hospital, squeezing it whenever you trembled in pain. When you did get in, he made an embarrassingly big deal out of it, demanding that you get checked out immediately. 

Relatively quickly (probably out of fear for the insane Scottish man you’d arrived with) you were looked at, and it turns out the fall had been quite serious, You’d fractured your arm and dislocated your shoulder. The doctor said you were lucky you hadn’t gotten any trauma to the head. 

When James was finally allowed in your room, you knew he’d gotten the news, because he had the biggest ‘I told you so’ look on his face. He gave you yet another lecture, but mostly he just hugged you and confessed how worried you’d made him. You apologized profusely, of course, because it was an absolute crime to worry such a sweet person. 

The incident had definitely made James more paranoid for the rest of the shooting, asking you each time you’d done a stunt if you were okay. You found it sweet though, and nice that he cared for you. Which he did, because you were like a sister to him, and it was over his dead body he would let you hide your pain from him.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @ireadfanficforfun @snarky--starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel​

[minghellafine]

Full article below.

Spiral is now available on 4K UHD, Blu-ray, DVD, and digitally. The Saw spin-off stars Chris Rock, Samuel L. Jackson, and Max Minghella in the lead roles and is directed by Saw II-IV director Darren Lynn Bousman in his return to helming the horror series. While it exists in the Saw universe, it’s very much its own thing and provides a fresh experience.

ComingSoon Editor-in-Chief Tyler Treese spoke with Spiral star Max Minghella about the film, a possible sequel, his relationship with the Saw franchise, and much more.

Tyler Treese: I really liked Spiral and it’s this great mix of genres as you’ve got the Saw-type horror and the torture scenes, but the first half of the film is very much kind of like a buddy cop movie. Can you speak to that interesting blend of genre that we have?

Max Minghella: I was very excited when I started to realize that that’s the direction the movie was going to go in. I love buddy cop movies. I really miss movies like that. I had been craving it as a movie fan, so I was really relieved by that. And then I thought that the needle thread of the Saw franchise and the identity of that franchise into this other story was so brilliantly handled in very kind of successful, you know what I mean on the page. I can really see how this works and is very much the movie I’d go and see even if I had nothing to do with it.

You couldn’t get a better buddy cop partner than Chris Rock. He just has so much natural charisma. He’s so funny in the first 30 minutes of the film. Can you talk about your chemistry on set and how it was getting to have him as your buddy cop?

Yeah, I mean, it’s an insane privilege and he’s just somebody I love so much in every way. I love him as a actor performer. I loved him as a filmmaker and it was really fun just getting to have meaningful time with somebody you look up to so much and see how they work and pick their brain. I’m sure Chris got very bored of me badgering him with questions all the time, but I had such a good time getting to work with him. We really had fun together.

Before signing onto Spiral, were you a big fan of the Saw franchise, and what was it like coming into such an established series? It just crossed the billion dollar mark. What are the expectations of coming into a series like that?

I think it’s the first franchise thing I’ve done. I love franchises just in general. I love the concept of them. I love how they exist in film culture. I like the challenges of having to keep them alive and what’s about them and it really appeals to me. So that was just exciting, just fundamentally to be a part of a franchise, like you said, and sort of take on that responsibility, I suppose. I also love so much about the DNA of Saw movies, so I love the kind of whodunnit element of them. I love how sort of visceral it is an experience for an audience, especially when you’re watching it. It’s so fun to watch these movies with people. To answer your question about my familiarity with the franchise. I had seen several of them, but the one I’ve always loved, and I think I owned on DVD like way before being involved in this, was Saw II. I love Saw II. I’m a big twist guy, like a big twist fan, and that movie has got a great twist.

Spiral saw the return of Darren Lynn Bousman as the director. How exciting was it to get to work with him? He has helmed so many great Saw films in the past and now he gets to reinvent it here with you and Chris Rock onboard.

Yeah. It was great to have Darren back. He was such a smart choice. To have somebody who was one of the architects of the Saw aesthetic, which is a very specific aesthetic. I don’t think any other movies share this sort of visual technique. So there’s a lovely, I mean, I think the movie is a great blend of the old guard and then the new kids, you know, Chris [Rock] and Sam [Jackson] and Marisol [Nichols], myself, we’re all completely new to the franchise, but then almost everybody else involved has been there for a minute and it’s like a family, you know what I mean? It really does feel very kind of an intimate group of people and very familiar.

You grew up around movies, you’ve gotten to work with so many incredible actors, so I’m sure it’s not super often where you’re like, “Wow, I can’t believe I’m with this guy,” but Samuel L. Jackson. If that’s ever going to happen, it’s probably him. How cool was it getting to work with a legend like him and cross that off your bucket list?

It’s pretty cool and unexpected. This movie was sort of almost always a pinch yourself kind of job, to be honest. There’s very few days on set where I wasn’t like, I can’t believe I’m going to [do this]. Sam Jackson is truly one of the great actors of all time, it’s a pretty ridiculous situation to be in.

One thing I really like about your character is that he has these very valid grievances about police corruption and that’s a true-to-life issue. Spiral spotlights it, but it’s a very real issue and very timely for the society that we’re in. Did having that interesting backstory for the character really help you dive into playing this role?

I love when you have compassion for a villain. I think it’s so much more compelling than when they are impossible to relate to. So that was really important to me that when he said things. It was his own sort of mad logic to him, obviously the way that he goes about practicing his beliefs is completely wrong, but there’s something there sort of relatable I think to what he’s saying. That’s much more interesting always.

We see that in the original series with Jigsaw and Saw always had some social commentary and some interesting morality questions. Can you speak to Spiral also bringing those philosophical elements and how the series has stayed really interesting? It would have been so easy to just be leaning into just the gore element, but instead, you keep that philosophy and having the moral ambiguity.

Like you said, man, it’s so essential to the DNA of these movies. There’s John Kramer and he always had some interesting perspective on things and reasons for doing things. I think it’s essential that that sort of stays in it, even though Spiral is obviously a very different direction. I think for these movies it is its own story and its kind of its own sort of journey in a way, but there are certain things you don’t want to lose and that’s one of them. You want a compelling villain and I think compelling villains aren’t just being idiots with their point of view.

There’s not many people that can say they fought Chris Rock in a fistfight. How fun was that final fight sequence in the film, and you got the punch Chris Rock! How cool is that?

Again, man, it was all so much fun. Everything was so much fun. I just felt like a kid on the playground. It was crazy. I mean all of it’s like the stuff you sort of dream about doing as a kid. I think there’s a line in the movie where, “I started dreaming about this since I was 12 years old,” and I felt that was pretty resonant for me because I really have. I grew up with a Beverly Hills Cop poster above my bed since as long as I’ve been a conscious person. I really like movies like this where the genre movies have real stakes, but have a sense of humor and aren’t pretentious. It’s very specific to what I want to go and see.

Before we get the big reveal of yourself as the villain, we see the villain in a pig mask a lot. Was it actually you wearing the mask in those scenes?

That’s funny, man. You’re the second person to ask me that question. Yes, not always. I mean it depends on what we’re doing. But absolutely. As long as it’s not some big dangerous stunt.

There are some gruesome and really clever traps in Spiral. Did any of those stick out as a particular favorite for you and what was it like getting to see how they’re actually, with the movie magic and all that, how they’re actually concocted?

It’s dope, so cool. It’s really fun. The subway trap is my favorite. I feel it was really brilliant way into the movie, so cinematic, and that set was crazy sort of built that station. That was so cool. I felt like going to Universal’s studio tour thing. That was how I felt.

Saw fans are very passionate. How’s the reception been? You talked about this being your first franchise, how cool was it to enter that fandom?

I’ve got to say, I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t anxious before the film was released. Obviously I felt a huge amount of responsibility to the fans of these movies and didn’t want them to feel let down by the performance. I’ve been so like grateful and moved by how kind of nice that community is. I mean, nice is maybe a weak word to use, but they’re really supportive. They love these movies. They’ve been really supportive of the movie and supportive of us, the new actors, and I’m very relieved and it means a lot.

With the way the film ends, there’s obviously some unfinished business between yourself and Chris Rock’s character. Would you be interested in returning for a sequel?

For sure, if there was an appetite for us to come back. I think we both love to do another one. But we did this without any expectations of anything beyond. I think it’s a very unusual ending and also very unique and exciting one. I haven’t seen something that sort of ends with such a pronounced cliffhanger. So I’m certainly curious to know what’s gonna happen.

For your other projects, you’ve got Babylon coming up, which has just the most incredible star-studded cast. It even has Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I know. That’s cool, right?

It’s really cool. I believe filming starts on that soon. How thrilled are you to just get to work with so many talented actors on one set?

Yeah, man. Amazing. I’m a huge fan of Damien Chazelle and he’s sort of one of my sort of heroes. So I’m really looking forward to getting to be on set with him and see how he works. All of this is sort of like an education, you’re really just trying to work with people you can learn from and hopefully, we’ll make it better. I can’t think of a group of people to be around that’s more talented.

We spoke about passionate fans earlier. The Handmaid’s Tale has so many passionate watchers and Season 4 had a really shocking ending. What are you looking forward to the most in Season 5?

Season 4 is, by some pretty wide margin, my favorite season we’ve shot. I really loved the season. It’s funny because it’s an ensemble show, and as a result,I don’t know what everyone else is doing. I’m not there on set when everyone else is shooting that stuff. I play a pretty small part in the show, so when it comes out, I get to watch it like an audience member and go along for the ride. I just had such an amazing time watching it this year. I was so proud of everybody in the cast and crew. It was tough circumstances, as you can imagine, shooting during a pandemic and especially Elisabeth Moss just was incredible this year, really just took care of everyone and for it to come out as strong as it was, was really amazing. I never thought I’d be so excited to go into Season 5 of a TV show, but I get more and more excited every year as we get further into it and it just keeps staying so strong. It’s amazing. I can’t believe how lucky I am to be on a show that is that good.

It’s kind of rare to see a show building on its quality over time. Usually it peaks in Season 2 or 3, but like you said, Season 4 is the best one yet. It was very exciting as a fan to see how it’s going to continue.

Thank you. It’s amazing and that people are still watching a show and sticking with us. We are all so conscious. It’s sort of pathetic actually, whenever The Handmaid’s Tale cast talk about anything, we’re just all so conscious of how singular this experience is and how we can’t take it for granted. I think stuff like this comes along very, very rarely, and when you’re lucky enough to be a part of something that you like so much and other people seem to like.

Over the past five years, we’ve seen you find success as a screenwriter and a director as well. Working behind the camera and looking at the scenes from that different perspective, does that help your acting as well?

That’s a good question. I dunno. I don’t know if I can do anything about my acting talents, but it comes from a very simple place, man, because I just love movies so much. Just the fact that I don’t really know about anything else. Like if you asked me about where any country is on a map, I would have no idea, but I’m okay with movies. Like I kind of know movies and, and so I get impatient. I’m a bit of a workaholic and I just want to do whatever I can. So it would be on set. So we get to engage creatively and I can do it a little bit. It’s really different. Well, what I think is interesting about it is often have a day where I have to have a call maybe as a producer and then a call as a writer, then a call as a director, then a call as an actor, and each conversation I’m treated quite differently or my job is so different. Switching those hats is I think quite good and keeps you in check and keeps your feet on the ground and keeps you hungry and all that stuff. So I feel very lucky I get to do different things.

When you were growing up, one of your goals was to be a music video director. Is that something that you still want to wind up doing down the line?

I got to make a movie that I think exorcised a lot of those demons. So I have to be honest, I have less of a burning desire to sort of work in that space because I felt like I got to sort of express that part of me a little bit. That said, I love music videos. It’s one of my favorite mediums. The tricky thing, and I’m sure most people would tell you this, is that music videos have very, very limited budgets. When I was a kid, this was the year of like Francis Lawrence and Hype Williams where people were getting like $4 or $5 million to make these two-minute clips. Now when I’m sent music video stuff, it’s like the budgets are very, very limited. So you really have to be passionate about it because you’re basically going to have to spend money to make it. So to answer your question I would love to do some music videos, but I think there has to be things that I was really, really married to.

In the past decade and some change we’ve seen superhero films become all the rage. Would you be interested in those types of projects and are there any comic characters that appeal to your acting sensibilities?

I kind of like all kinds of movies. I don’t have a genr that I’m not into. Yeah, I’m totally open to that. I think as long as I felt useful ther., I mean, that’s totally how I approach everything. It’s not so much about the glamor of an opportunity so much as whether I think I could actually contribute something. If I can’t, I don’t think it’s helpful for me to do it, then nobody wins. But if there was a show that I felt like, oh, I could do this and maybe not sink the ship then for sure.

[fishmongeringstudies]

the year i turned twenty i stopped waiting for someone to save my life and started eating more vegetables

in the winter of 2018 i got a root canal done on the molar in the upper left-hand corner of my mouth. it had been on the verge of death for a while now; two years prior to that a visiting government-sponsored school dentist had taken a look at it, frowned, and then spent the next two hours wheedling all the rot out of that tiny black hole with a drill. unfortunately the solution he imposed was both extremely painful and temporary, and so two years after the initial incident i found myself once again at the dentist's (this time at a clinic; school dentists don't like to deal with the extra-gritty stuff and are not paid enough to do so). they stuck a needle in my gum, numbed three-quarters of my mouth, then drilled a hole through the center of my tooth and ripped the withering shred of nerve-tissue right out of it.

my dentist helpfully explained all of the above to me during our consultation session in the same office in which he would rip the top half of my tooth off a week later. he was a balding, smiling man whose speech did not, unlike many medical professionals i had met over the years, have an edge of condescension to it. i liked him. i would have liked him more were he not planning to essentially castrated my tooth.

several weeks later i went to another dentist who specialized in helping people in post-root canal limbo, and she stuck a shiny metal crown on what was left of my molar. we then scheduled a series of check-ups to ensure that the crown had not flown off its liege while i attacked an ice cube or something similarly bad for my teeth and mental health, which stretched on for so long that she became, more or less, my primary dental care physician. at first the check-ups were a month apart. then two. time passed. her hair grew longer and our conversations less awkward; she was beautiful and snarky and looked like she would shoot god without hesitation if he stepped into range of her gun. she wore her hair short, red tinged with gold, in a pixie-cut that fell over half of one eye. for a while i thought i was in love with her.

'do you floss?' she asked me on my second check-up.

'no,' i said.

'well.' she broke off a length of dental floss and began to wind it around her fingers. it looked like a death threat and she looked ready to kill, though her eyes were smiling. 'you should.'

for the first year after having an utterly destroyed tooth brought back from the brink of death via a grisly temporary solution that would, at best, buy me one or two decades of peace, i didn't. i didn't floss because when she did it for me in her tiny examination room my gums bled so much it took hours for me to wash the bitter taste of iron out of my mouth. blood is a nice concept and a nicer motif in writing. but it smells awful, and it's worst on the tongue. so i didn't floss my teeth, and i went through life with the kind of casual detached disinterest with which i had approached most things up until then. at my next check-up she asked once again if i had been flossing and i lied that i had. after poking and prodding around in my mouth for a few minutes and taking a scan for good measure she gave me a look and said dryly, 'you haven't been flossing at all, have you.'

disappointing your parents, your favorite high school english teacher, or even your best friend is nothing compared to the sheer embarrassment that comes from knowing your beautiful dentist asked you to do the bare minimum, and you failed to deliver. her voice was arid but we had known each other for long enough by then for me to detect a thin undercurrent of disappointment. i had done it. i had lost the support of the only person in my life who could be counted on to support me. because i paid her for her services. and she was also very funny in a quiet sarcastic way. and she was beautiful.

having had my ego wounded beyond description i resolved to floss from then on and succeeded in dragging my poor aching gums past the bleeding stage to a point where they were merely post-workout sore. then i lost interest and forgot about the white, sterile-smelling clinic that was a fifteen minutes' drive from my house and the little pack of dental floss on the bathroom counter faded into obscurity. two weeks before my next appointment in 2020, an alarm on my phone went off to inform me of the approaching day of judgment. i panicked.

'have you been flossing?' my dentist asked as i lay back in the faded green chair and she put on a pair of new gloves.

'yeah,' i said.

five minutes later, she removed her army of dentistry equipment from my mouth with a satisfied hum. 'i see that you have.' her eyes were smiling. 'your teeth look fine. i'll just clean them a little for you.'

i celebrated impressing my favorite dentistry professional in singapore by forgetting to floss for the next two months. soon after that i got on a plane to america, and then two more for good measure in case i hadn't grown sick of sitting and burning in my own skin already, and then twelve weeks of insanity ensued, the details of which we are surely all acquainted with by now. late nights, walks in the forest, afternoons spent in the sun. mismatched footsteps and strange acquaintances. an elaborate circus act staffed entirely by misguided but well-meaning teenagers. a ring of fire.

two weeks ago i bought a box of dental floss for ninety-nine cents. i think this might be what the anthropologists call 'adulthood'. i was at target with a friend and we were getting toothpaste, which we had both nearly run out of, when i saw the little flat box of dental floss hanging from a hook on the wall. my teeth weren't particularly disgusting (they haven't been, not since i learned how to brush them properly), but they weren't beautiful. it had been a while since i had been on my own mind. for the last three months, others' pain had been my main priority, and now that we had eliminated most of them from the picture, i found myself with more time in the mornings to stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how, exactly, i was doing.

how are you doing? i asked. and the answer was i felt like shit.

while i've stayed in dormitories before for extended periods of time i always got out of doing laundry by either submitting my dirty clothes to an on-campus service which disappeared them into a hole in the fabric of reality and returned them to you a day later, cleaned and folded outside your room so the first time i did laundry by myself in america, a week after arriving on campus, i felt invincible. buying an iced chai from the cafe on a thursday morning and then settling down to work on my laptop until my first class started at noon, i felt like a character in a career advisory ad, like someone who knew where they were going and how they were going to get there. standing in front of the bathroom mirror of my summer dorm, winding a strand of dental floss around my fingers, i felt like i had aged fifteen years in the span of just one, and that just this once, it was for the better.

according to my adult friends, no one ever fully feels or recognizes that they are an adult. adulthood is an ideal that all grown children strive towards the way body-builders aim for more and more muscle mass until there's nothing left of them but a pair of well-toned biceps. there are several industry-approved ways to be an adult, but there are no suggested ways to feel like one. this is part of the gaping maw of inadequacy our generation has fallen into. this afternoon i melted butter in a pan and beat two eggs, milk, salt, and garlic powder together in a bowl. pouring the egg mixture into the pan i began to scrape the edges frantically towards the center with a spatula. the whole process took no longer than two or three minutes. by the end of it my hand was shaking.

according to my adult friends you just wake up one day and start looking for ways to re-organize your pantry and that's when you realize: i'm getting old, aren't i? and i'm getting old, aren't i? twenty's just the start of what a friend recently told me her parents refer to as 'the decade of pain'. but the beginning of something is included in the timeline of its accomplishments, too, and it takes more blind faith to start something than we give ourselves credit for. i have never used a saucepan up until today. in my younger years i often boiled broccoli or cauliflower in a small pot over an electric stove. but the butter, the eggs, the smell of fat sizzling on a pan- this is new to me. this entire life is new to me.

leaving the familiar warmth of your family home, it suddenly occurs to you how fragile life is. how everything your mother has done for you until now has kept you on the path forward, and now you have been given the keys to the basement you have to remember to buy laundry detergent before you run out. it all comes together like this: the humming laundry machines, the hand towels, the fridge full of fruit and cheese. it keeps you alive.

and it's awful. our generation doesn't know what self-care is because we're too busy trying to care for a world which tries, time and again, to kick us off the carousel of life and move on without its ephemeral teenage charges. we are bad at this 'living' thing because we often forget that we are alive at all. look out the window and the world's burning. look into the kitchen, and- quiet. this past year has done nothing to improve the paintings on the wall. we've all known hopelessness. we've all known what it's like to wake up and feel nothing at all.

and yet my flatmate has a new york times cooking subscription that she says we're welcome to borrow if we want to look up a recipe for something like paella, brownies, whatever. the other day she made shrimp scampi and when she knocked on my door and said 'i made food, if you'd like some' i remember thinking living with other people was worth it if you could sit around a table and twirl pasta noodles around your fork in silence. tomorrow i think i'll go to target again and see if i can find more acai. i miss it. i miss singapore's overpriced acai places and their stupid too-high chairs.

and i am living life clumsily, but who cares? a life is a life; all you have to do is live it. the rest can come later, after the dust has settled on the windowsill.

06.09.21

[iilaminexx]

Male Yandere x Male Reader

Nobody's POV

(Y/n) hummed silently, slinging a heavy grocery bag over his shoulder.  Just moments ago the male had been in a small store, collecting some food for himself.  He realized this morning most of the snacks in his house were already eaten, so he ventured out to buy some more.  His gaze flicked from the ground to the watch evident on his wrist.  Fortunately, he had just enough time to quickly walk home, get changed, then race to school.  

(Y/n) (L/n) was a tall teen, who had (s/m/l) (h/c) hair.  He had a well-built body, considering the fact he was on the swimming team.  Today he wore a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, with a white hoodie, which he soon would swap out for his uniform.

Finally reaching his small apartment, (Y/n) bursts through his door, swiftly placing the bag on the kitchen counter.  If he wanted to make it to school, he'd have to rush.  So that's what he was doing.  Hurrying to his tiny bedroom, (Y/n) hurries to change, creating multiple creases on the button-up dress shirt.  

"No time to eat," (Y/n) grumbles to himself, dashing past the open kitchen.  As well as slamming open the door, (Y/n) snatched up his school bag.  Judging by his messy uniform plus hair, you could tell he had a rough morning.  

(Y/n)'s parents sadly passed when he was nine, so he was forced into a group home.  Growing up he was never adopted, so he was able to stay by himself.  But on one condition, the agents were allowed to check on him once in a while.  Panting slightly, (Y/n) charges toward the school building, luckily living three blocks away.  However, it still took some energy out of him when he was rushing.  

"(Y/n)!"

"Huh?"

"Over Here!" a voice calls, coming from the other side of the street.  Whipping his head around (Y/n) spotted his friend, Marcus, standing ahead of him, on the opposite side of the road.  Marcus was a tall male, with dark brown hair that sometimes fell in front of his emerald green eyes.  Those green eyes had small light brown flecks mixed in, making them look even prettier.  Overall he was an extremely cute guy, just like (Y/n) was. 

"Oh, Hey Marc!" (Y/n) shouts back, making his way toward the teen.  Marcus and (Y/n) had been friends since middle school, both sharing the love of swimming.  Marcus was actually on the swimming team as well, he had joined at the same time (Y/n) did.  

"Hey," Marcus responds, "have you heard about the transfer student?"

"Transfer student?"

"Yep, it's a guy, he's supposed to get here today."

"Woah...How did you find out about this?"

"Word travels fast, and unlike you, I actually listen," Marcus teases, as the pair walked together.  Along the way, the two jabbed at each other, making meaningless jokes.  Eventually reaching the gigantic high school, the duo marched toward the door.  As they stepped inside, their ears were attacked with multiple voices at once.  Students littered the hallway, never leaving their view.

"Holy shit, that's a lot of people..." Marcus huffs, staring at the crowd.  Marcus used to think he wasn't that popular, even though he was famous all over school, for his talent plus looks.  But now he's grown to understand, that if he walked into a room, heads definitely would turn.  Which they did.  Countless others bombarded the male, talking over each other trying to gin his attention.

(Y/n) sighed as many people introduced themselves to him as well, yet still put on a small smile to humor them.  During all the ruckus, the ear-deafening bell erupted, alarming students to make their way to class.  Bidding Marcus goodbye, (Y/n) trudged to class, his bag dangling from his shoulder.  

"Welcome, class!" Mr. Moran exclaims, a smile clear on his face.  

"Today I'd like to introduce the new transfer student, this is Max Salant," He explains, gesturing to the teen beside him.  The newbie was a dark cool blonde, whose eyes were the lightest of brown.  His build matched Marcus's, which meant he was quite muscular.  He wore the same uniform as every other guy in the school did, a simple button-up dress shirt, with black dress pants.  Keeping his eyes on the newbie, (Y/n) started for his seat.  

"Mr. (L/n)! I'd like you to show Max around the school!"

"Wait, what ab-"

"No need to worry, another student will catch you up when you come back!"

"Alrighty then..." (Y/n) mutters, dropping his bag beside his desk.  Before he could start walking, the other boy appeared in front of him, making (Y/n) flinch.  Max had a wide grin on his face, staring at (Y/n) intensely.  "Uhm...Let's get going..."

(After they left the classroom)

"Have any idea's on what club you may join?" (Y/n) questions, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants.  Currently, the two were walking down the hall, as (Y/n) pointing out to rooms, and naming them.

"Yeah, I enjoy art, so I may just join that," answers Max, running a hand through his silky locks.

"You any good?" (Y/n) asks, trying to make a conversation out of it.

"Kind of, I like to think I am, others may not," Max sighs, dropping his hand to his side.  "are you in a club?"

"Yep, I'm on the swim team,"

"That's cool."

"Mhm..."

(Two Months Later) 

The past two months, (Y/n) and Max had begun a friendship, along with Marcus.  Throughout that time, Max joined the art club and even visited (Y/n) when he had swim practice.  There were some moments where he would glare at Marcus, which sorta made (Y/n) nervous.  But of course, he blew it off thinking Max was just playing around.  How wrong was he.

(Y/n) marched down to the art room, in search of Max.  The duo had a project due this Wednesday, and today was Monday, so they needed it done soon.  Sliding open the door, (Y/n) froze, his breathing stopping to a halt.  

"Ma-Marcus..." (Y/n) chokes, gazing at the bloody body lying on the floor.  Spread across the room was the red liquid, splattered on the wall and floor.  Looking around the room once more, (Y/n) spotted a painting.  The painting was of him and Max sketched with the blood of Marcus.

"You made it!"

"Max..." (Y/n) shivers, his gaze still fixated on the art.  "Did you do this?" asks (Y/n) obviously talking about Marcus.

"Mhm! Marcus was getting in the way, don't you think??" Max chuckles as if this was all just a big joke.  

"N-no, Max how could you? Marcus and you were friends!"

"What? Marcus and I were never friends, I only ever wanted you~"

"Oh god...This is so sick, you're crazy!" (Y/n) exclaims, stepping away from the male.  (Y/n) never realized how insane Max was, He may have made some psycho jokes, but that hadn't made (Y.n) notice.   Unfortunately, Marcus had to suffer, for his own stupidity.  Last week, Marcus had brought up how Max was beginning to get creepy.  Yet (Y/n) still didn't listen.  He didn't know why maybe because he grew fond of the boy.

(Y/n) was on the verge of tears, I mean seeing your childhood friend dead in front of you can make you emotional.  Continuing to back step, (Y/n) felt himself walk into a pile of blood.  

Max stalked closer, a knife visible in his hand. "I did this for us, I just want you to love me as I love you~"

"There is no 'us' Max, I'll never love you!" (Y/n) spat, his eyes narrowing, his fear now growing into anger.  (Y/n) had just lost his best friend, because of a psychotic male, preaching that he loves him.  What a day.

"You have no choice in that matter, you and I will be together no matter what," Max growls, suddenly in front of (Y/n).  

(Y/n) backed away, his back making contact with the blood-smeared wall.  Great now he was cornered.  Max pinned him to the wall, his face just centimeters away, allowing (Y/n) to feel his breath fanning his face.  Before he could protest, Max's lips smashed onto his, making (Y/n)'s eyes widen.  (Y/n) had never actually kissed a guy before, still questioning if he wanted to in the end.  Sure he had some feelings toward males at his school, but he never acted upon those feelings.  

(Y/n) attempted pushing him away, only for Max to hold his arms in place.  That was surprising, since (Y/n) thought he was stronger than Max.  Turns out he wasn't.

"I've wanted to do that for the longest time~" Max chortles, finally breaking away from the kiss.  (Y/n) clenched his fist, ripping his arms from Max's strong grip.  "Ah-ah, not so fast."

As (Y/n) strived to scrambled away from Max, a hand grasped onto his shoulder.  Twisting his head around, (Y/n)'s eyes met with a big buff man.  Judging by his attire, which was a black suit, he was probably Max's bodyguard.  "Oh, shit..."

"We'll be together soon enough, (Y/n)~"

(Y/n) felt a sting in his arm, just now noticing the needle being stuck into it.  His eyes slowly fluttered shut, finally succumbing to sleep.  

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut and Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

As promised, Wednesday after work, you and Harry went to the tattoo parlor so you could get your nose pierced. You picked out a white gold stud, and picked out a few hoops you’d want to interchange with once you could.

“This one is so cool, it has diamonds on it. It could be for like special occasions.”

Harry couldn’t wait to see you with the hoop once it was time. He was already parched just thinking about it. You grabbed some thinner hoops for work as well. He watches you look over the naval piercings. He points to a few he likes and you grab one of them. Your name gets called and you go to sit in the chair.

“Which side?”

“Left, please.”

“And you’re doing this so you can have a hoop later, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, so I’ll do it a little lower down. Now, don’t twist this like you would an ear piercing. You need to let this be so it can heal properly.”

“Okay.” You reach out for Harry’s hand as the man cleans up your nose. You close your eyes, and Harry almost thinks to take your picture because he think you look so cute.

“Okay, here we go.”

You grit your teeth and white knuckle Harry’s hand. He places his other hand on your shoulder.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelp as the needle goes into your nose.

“Almost done.” The man reassures you.

Your nostril felt numb, but you were happy with it when he showed it to you in the mirror.

“Looks great, love.”

“Alright, Harry, you ready?”

“Yup.” He hands him a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’d like that on my forearm, where there’s space.”

Harry sits down in a chair as the man cleans up his arm. You sit next him.

“What are you getting?”

Before Harry can answer, the man puts a piece of paper over where Harry wants it and peels it back. You see a very small, very detailed sunflower.

“A sunflower, for my sunflower.” He winks at you.

“Oh, Harry…are you sure?”

“Positive. Will yeh hold my hand?” He smiles.

“Don’t make fun of me.” You pout. “It really hurt.”

“I know baby.” He puts his hand out to you as the man gets to work. You’re amazed that Harry doesn’t even flinch, but he had so many he could hardly feel it anymore.

Thirty or so minutes later it was done. You take a picture of it for him before the man bandages it up. You each pay separately for your things and head out.

“So my nose really looks good?”

“Yup, can’t wait to see the hoop in it though.”

“Six to eight weeks.” You smile. “I can’t believe you got my favorite flower tattooed on you, that was so sweet.”

“S’not weird?”

“Not at all! It’s so special, like, something for the two of us.” He takes your hand in his and kisses it.

//

Harry had confirmed your double date with Rachel and Mariah. The four of you agreed on a trivia night at a local bar. You all meet there Friday night after work. It was a little weird for Harry to be hanging out with someone outside of work, but he got on with Mariah pretty well, so it wasn’t totally awkward.

You and Rachel told stories from college, and Mariah talked about getting into photography. Rachel explains why she wanted to be a high school art teacher.

“I just think kids that age lose a lot of the fun in their lives. Art is important at any age, but when they’re getting ready to go to college, I wanna help them destress with my classes.”

“That’s so cool.” Mariah says and Rachel blushes.

“Mariah, what was it like when you and Harry first met?” You were a tad tipsy.

“Oh god, I was terrified of him.” She laughs and his jaw drops. “But then when he shook my hand and I saw the bright pink color on his nails, I knew wasn’t so scary.” She giggles. “I’ll never forget, after the first two weeks, he comes over to me and he says, ‘I think you’re the only person here other than myself that isn’t a blithering idiot’.” Everyone at the table laughs at her impression of him. It was pretty good.

“I was right though.”

“Very true. God, it’s so annoying when someone else tries to set up a shot for you, isn’t it? Like hello, I have a vision.”

“Exactly! If it was as easy as just snappin’ away, anyone would do it.”

“So was everyone scared of Harry?” Rachel asks.

“I think they were mostly intimidated. Everyone talks to each other and gets together, but H always stuck to himself.”

“Not the type of people I wanted to be chummy with.” He has a disgusted look on his face, thinking of Mykenzie. “I quite like Isaac though, he’s been a good addition.”

“Love Isaac, he always gets us everything we need.”

“He’s always so nice when I come to visit.” You say.

“He’s got a huge crush on Harry.” Mariah giggles.

“Stop it.” Harry says groaning.

“You know he does.”

“Thought he just thought I was cute or somethin’. Didn’t think it was a crush.”

“Well, I’ve never asked him personally, so he could easily just be attracted to you. I’ve heard him talk about it with Julia and Dana.” The sound of Julia’s name makes you want to vomit.

“Jesus, Harry, does everyone at your work have a thing for you?” Rachel asks.

“Everyone except this one.” He winks and nods towards Mariah, making both girls giggle.

Trivia starts and you all pick a stupid team name. You and Rachel were best at coming up with answers. You both knew a lot about pop culture, and luckily there weren’t too many other categories.

“How the fuck did yeh know that?” Was something Harry said quite a bit, and you both just shrugged your shoulders.

“Which Kardashian married an NBA player after dating for thirty days?” The emcee asks.

“Oh that was Khloe.” You tell Rachel to write down. Harry’s jaw drops. “What?”

“You’re obsessed with reality television!”

“Not true! I used to watch Keeping Up when I was in college. It was night to have on in the background when I’d do homework. It’s not a show you have to pay attention to.”

“What was the name of season twenty Bachelor?”

“Ben Higgins.” You, Rachel, and Mariah all say at the same time.

“Jesus Christ.”

“You watch the Bachelor?” Rachel asks her.

“Never miss an episode. You watch?”

“Yeah, we should get together to watch some time.”

“I’d like that.” They smile at each other. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give it a little squeeze.

“What did Leonardo DiCaprio text back to Jennifer Lopez after James Corden texted him from her phone back in 2016?”

“Who the fuck would know-“

“You mean tonight boo boo? Club wise?” You say as Rachel nods and writes it down. You look at Harry whose mouth was hanging wide open. “Do you not watch carpool karaoke ever?”

“Can’t say I do, love.”

“You’re missing out.” You giggle.

“Do you still have that picture of Leo with that quote over his like serious face and it’s in black and white?”

“I do! It’s in a drawer in my office. Makes me laugh when I look at it.”

You were quirky, and Harry rarely got to see these little things come out. He liked it, a lot. You were sort of nerdy in your own right and he thought it was insanely cute.

Your group came in third place, earning you each a coupon for a free app the next time you came to the bar. You all say goodnight, and confirm what time with Rachel you should be over tomorrow to get ready.

//

Your hair was up in messy bun and you had sweats on before you left for Sarah and Rachel’s. You bring your large overnight bag out to the front hall, and go up to the loft to say goodbye to Harry.

“Any plans tonight, baby?”

“Yeah, Niall’s comin’ over. Think we’re goin’ to play Madden.”

“Oh great!”

“That’s what you’re wearin’ for your big night out?”

“God no, I’m getting ready with them. Like old times. We pregame a little while doing each other’s hair and make up. We decide on outfits, all that girly stuff.”

“So I don’t even get to see what you’re wearin’ out before you go?” He pouts and puts his hands on your hips as you stand between his legs.

“’Fraid not.” You lean in and kiss his forehead. “I’ll send you a pic though.” You kiss him on the lips. “Have fun with Niall.”

“Have fun with the girls.”

He watches you descend down the stairs. He was very curious to know what you might be wearing. He hoped it wasn’t too sexy since he wouldn’t be there. The thought of a bunch people looking at you didn’t sit right with him, but it was out of his control. He also hated that you wouldn’t be coming back to him tonight. He wanted your drunk cuddles, they were the best.

You drive to Rachel and Sarah’s and hug Sarah and wish her a happy birthday. You all start drinking and get ready. You each take turns posting to your Instagram stories. Giggles and music in the background.

Niall comes over to see Harry, and they both get set up on the sofa.

“How was your date last night?” Harry asks.

“Made her cry tears of joy, finally gave her a key to my place.”

“Good for you mate!” Harry smiles at him. Niall checks his phone and looks at all three of your stories. “What in the fuck was that?”

“Our girls havin’ a grand ol’ time. Look.” Niall shows him Sarah’s story and sees you with your hair half done, curling iron in hand, making a kiss face as Rachel dances behind you. “Like they never stopped livin’ together.” He chuckles.

“Any idea where they’re goin’?”

“Pinz I think.”

//

“Okay, what am I wearing?” Sarah asks.

“We got you this sash that says ‘birthday bitch’ so you have to wear it.” Rachel giggles.

“Guess that means I should wear my red dress to match, huh?” She snatches it. “What did you bring, Y/N?”

“Oh, just my fav party outfit.” You grin. You take out a skin tight quarter sleeve, olive green, midi dress.

“Ohhh shiiiittt.” Rachel says. “She back in town.”

“For one night only.” You wink.

Sarah puts on a short sleeve red dress that flowed around her thighs. Rachel put on a black pencil skirt and white crop top. You all looked great. None of you wore a bra, purposefully, to just make out all of your piercings. You set up your phone to take a few pictures of the three of you. The three of you were feeling sexy, and you were ready to show Sarah a good time.

“Wait, I told Harry I’d send him a picture.”

“Better send one to Niall too.”

“Okay, line up you heteros.” Rachel says sarcastically. You both stick your tongue out at her.

“Y/N, push your boobs up, really put a show on for him.” She giggles.

“Okay, like this?” You push your boobs up and pout your lips.

“Model! Model vibes!” Sarah screams as she takes a shot of tequila.

“Okay, now turn around and look over your shoulder. Gotta show that booty.” You do as she says.

“He’s gonna kill me.” You laugh.

“Why?”

“Because not only am I not wearing a bra, but I don’t have any panties on either.”

“Well, duh, you can’t with that dress.” Sarah defends you. “Okay, my turn.”

You and Rachel snap pictures of the birthday girl. You both send the pictures to your boyfriends. You take some more silly pictures altogether.

“You know what’s crazy? This is my first birthday without Kate in years…”

“Are you upset we didn’t invite her?” Rachel asks.

“Not really.” She shrugs. “I haven’t really missed her to tell you the truth.”

“Me neither.” You admit. “I miss the old times, but I’ve been less stressed without her in my life.”

“Agreed.” Rachel says. “Uber’s here! Let’s hit it.”

//

Niall and Harry’s phones go off at the same time. They look at each other and pause their game.

“Jesus.” Harry’s eyes pop out of his head.

“Holy hell.” Niall says looking at the pictures Sarah sent him.

Harry zooms in on the pictures best he can. You looked incredible. He wanted to tear the dress right off you.

“Mate?” Harry says with his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah?”

“She’s not wearin’ any knickers…”

“Doesn’t look like Sarah’s got a bra on either.”

“Same with Y/N…why would they do that?” Harry looks at him panicked. “I mean, look, not even any knickers!” He shoves the phone his face, but Niall pushes it back.

“Do ya really want me lookin’ at her arse?”

“Right, no, I don’t. And I don’t want anyone else to either. Why would she do this t’me?” He whines.

“To remind ya how fuckin’ lucky ya are.” Niall gets up. “Come on, we better break into the liquor instead of just beer tonight.”

“Good idea.”

//

The three of you get to Pinz, and Sarah is given a free shot and drink of her choice as the bartender sees her sash and ID. You all head to the dance floor once you have your drinks. The music was good tonight, really good. You were all laughing and singing, adding more to your Instagram stories. Niall and Harry couldn’t help but keep refreshing their feeds to see what the three of you were up to.

“They’re havin’ a lot of fun…” Harry says.

“Fuck girl’s nights. We should be allowed to show up.” Niall slurs.

“Even to just roll up and have a shag in the bathroom quick, then I’d be good.”

“Exactly! S’not askin’ too much.” He sighs. “But we can’t. I was told specifically not to show up.”

“Bullshit is what it is.” Harry slurs. How much did they drink?

You go up to the bar to grab the next round of drinks. You bump into someone by accident and apologize.

“Oh, no worries…Y/N?”

“Matt?!” You cross your arms over your chest immediately.

“Hey!”

“Hi, um, how are you?”

“Good! It’s great to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. How are things with school?”

“Good, new semester. Miss working with you all.”

“We miss you too.” You walk up closer to the bar. You lower your hands and flip your hair slightly to get the bartender’s attention.

“Whatya have gorgeous?”

“Three vodka cranberries please.” You push your boobs closer together.

“Got a tab?”

“Nah.”

“Alright, that’ll be ten bucks.”

“But that’s only-“

“Know it’s your friend’s birthday over there.” He winks at you, and you put a ten dollar bill and a couple of singles down on the bar while he makes the drinks. Matt was in awe of you.

“Come here a lot?” You ask him.

“A little yeah. We came here for my birthday like you suggested, so we come out when we can. Guys! This is Y/N!” A few of his friends look at you and their faces flush, they wave hello and you wave back.

“Alright, here ya go.” You hear the bartender say.

“Thanks so much!” You say taking the drinks.

“Get off at two by the way.” You blush and smile at him. “Just a girl’s night, but thanks.” He nods in understanding.

“Well, it was good seeing you. Have fun!” Matt and the bartender watch you walk away.

Rachel and Sarah each take a drink from you. You notice a napkin stuck to yours.

“Oh god!”

“What?” They both ask.

“The bartender gave me his phone number! What should I do? Just throw it out right??”

“Toss it on the floor!” Rachel says. And you do just that. You didn’t want to risk Harry finding anything like that.

The three of you continue to dance and pop your asses to the songs the club was playing. It was a really great time. You each have another round of vodka cranberries, courtesy of Rachel. Harry hadn’t texted you more than a kissy face since you sent him the pictures. You take out your phone and send him a drunk text.

You: having fun w ni?

Harry smirks when he sees it.

Harry: mhm, having fun with the girlies?

You: so much fun!! Miss u

Harry: miss you too baby

You: ur a cutie

Harry had a dopey smile on his face and Niall starts laughing.

“Oi, what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“You’re so gaga over her.” He shakes his head.

“S’not a bad thing.” He pouts.

“Not at all.”

The three of you laugh and sing and are actually quite annoying in the back of the uber on the way back to Rachel and Sarah’s. The three of you set up camp in the living room with air-mattresses, blankets and pillows. Sarah uses the bathroom first to wash her face and change. You sit down and your head feels heavy. You decide to FaceTime Harry, Rachel sits next to you to get in on it.

“Oh check it out, she’s FaceTimin’ me.” He says to Niall. The two had just started a movie. “Hello?”

“Hey!”

“Hi Harry!”

“Hi girls.”

“Where’s my girl?” Niall pouts.

“Birthday girl got first dibs on the bathroom.” You explain. “Whatcha up to?”

“We just started a movie, love.”

“Ohhhh, fun. We’re gonna do that too, just waiting to wash our faces.”

“How was the bar?”

“So much fun! We danced the whole time.”

“I’ll bet. Any guys try to give yeh their number?” He jokes. Your face and Rachel’s lose all color. You both look at each other and laugh nervously. “Wait, did a guy actually try to give you their number?”

“Um…just the bartender.” Harry’s eyebrows raise. “But I didn’t even realize it! He had put a napkin with our drinks and I noticed it. I threw it right on the ground!”

“Why did he give it to you though?”

“Y/N only paid ten buck for the drinks.” Sarah giggles, sitting down with them, only in a large t-shirt. “Oh, hi Niall!”

“Hey baby!”

“You only had to pay ten dollars for three drinks?”

“Mhm.” Your face grows red. Rachel starts giggling. “Stop, you’re not helping.”

“What did you do? Why’d he discount it?”

“He said he knew it was Sarah’s birthday.” You shrug. You burst out laughing. “And I may have pushed my boobs up.” The other two start laughing.

“Y/N, that’s not fu-“

“You know what, I really need to pee. You know how I am when I really need to pee, Harry. I love you, have a fun rest of your night!” You end the call and get up to use the bathroom.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“You cannot get mad at her, mate.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s drunk, clearly. She doesn’t know what she’s sayin’.”

“She purposefully showed off to get a discounted drinks!”

“Like you’ve never done the same thing.”

“Not while I was datin’ someone…”

“Oh Harry.” Niall shakes his head. “Please don’t make this a big deal. If I was a woman that looked like her, like any of ‘em, I’d do the same thing. Relationship or not. Don’t spoil her fun.”

“M’not.” He sighs. “You wouldn’t be mad if Sarah told you somethin’ like that.”

“It’s her birthday, she can do whatever she wants.” He shrugs.

Niall and Harry pass out on the couch, and they both wake up around three in the morning. Niall leaves and goes back home across the street while Harry sleeps in his bed alone. He imagines how lonely it must’ve been for you while he was away. He sleeps in the middle of the bed so it doesn’t feel so large without you.

//

You and the girls stay up until nearly five in the morning. You watch old movies and reminisce on your days in school together. You all pass out snuggled up together like old times. Harry woke up around eleven and you still weren’t home. No texts or anything from you. He sighs, and gets up to make some coffee. Just as he’s walking out to the kitchen, only in his boxers, he here’s your footsteps. He stands leaning against the wall of the outside of the kitchen, arms crossed waiting for you to enter.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, your sweat pants were hanging low on your hips, your dress from last night was rolled up to look like a shirt, and you had your sunglasses on. You drop your bag once you get into the living area, and you jump when you see Harry.

“Christ.” You say, pulling your sunglasses up on the top of your head.

“Fun night?”

“Mhm.” He starts chuckling. “What?”

“What are you wearin’?”

“I woke up sweaty and didn’t wanna wear my shirt home, so I put this back on, and these are your sweatpants, so they’re baggy, and I know I look ridiculous okay?” You walk towards him and go into the kitchen. He follows you. “Need coffee.” You go over to the Keurig.

“Do you remember FaceTimin’ me last night?” He asks with his arms still crossed. Yes.

“Vaguely.” You press the button on the machine after putting your favorite mug underneath.

“Do yeh remember sending me those pictures at the beginning of the night?”

“Course I do.” You turn to look at him. “I looked like a fucking stunner.” He looks down and sees your pebbling nipples through the top of your dress. You cross your arms over yourself.

“So happy everyone got to see your nips last night.”

“No one saw anything. It was dark in the club.”

“You didn’t have any knickers on.”

“And how would you know that? Easily could’ve been wearing a thong.”

“Were you?”

“No.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You can’t wear underwear with this dress, it shows everything.”

“Why would you wear it then?”

“Because I felt like it.” The coffee finishes pouring. You go over to the fridge and grab your creamer, and pour a little in. You bring the mug to your lips and take a small sip. You sigh happily. Harry begins making his own coffee. “Did you and Niall have fun?”

“Yes.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He takes a sip of his black coffee. “Yeh hungover?”

“No, stomach just feels gross. We drank vodka cranberries all night. Way too much sugar.”

“Need breakie?”

“No.” You giggle. “Thanks, we ate. We had some hash-browns and cheesy eggs, that’s why I’m just getting back now.” You finish up your coffee and put your mug in the sink. You yawn and stretch. “I feel like I need to sleep for like ten years.”

You leave the kitchen and start taking your clothes off as you make your way to the bedroom. You were desperate a shower. But Harry was more desperate for you. You feel him wrap his arms around you from behind. You had only taken your top off.

“You’re still not wearin’ knickers.” He says into your ear.

“Nope.” You press back against him, and you feel him growing hard.

“I missed you last night.” He whispers while nipping at your earlobe. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest to his.

“And I bet you missed more seeing me dressed like that?” Your nose brushes against his as he nods. “My poor baby.” You rest your chin on his shoulder as you hug him closer to you. “Let me take a shower, and then I promise I’ll love on you all day.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You kiss him on the cheek and let go of him.

“I can’t shower with you?” He pouts.

“I need to, like, shave and stuff. Just ten minutes, get cozy and wait for me on the bed, okay?”

“Alright.” He sighs like you’ve denied him of the world, and gets on the bed.

You do your thing in the bathroom. You don’t need to wash your hair, so that saves a good chunk of time. Your stomach still feels like shit, but you know it’ll pass. You dry off completely and moisturize your freshly shaven legs. Usually you’re wrapped in a towel, have your robe on, or even have pj’s on after you shower. You and the girls were introduced to tik tok last night, and you kind of want to try the new challenge going around. You just hoped Harry kept his boxers on.

You grab your phone and start the video, showing the audience that you’ve dropped your towel. You open the bathroom door slowly. Harry had an arm behind his head, and the other hand was scrolling through his phone. You giggle as you open the door the rest of the way.

“Hey baby?” He looks over at you, furrowing his brows while he smiles.

“What are you doin’?” He reaches his hands out to you.

“Air drying.”

He gets up off the bed and walks towards you, picking you up, you stop your video and laugh hysterically. He puts you down on the bed, and wonders what’s so funny.

“Were you recordin’ me?”

“I won’t post it if you don’t want me to since you’re like naked.”

“Post it where?”

“Tik tok…”

“Jesus, how old are you?” He chuckles. “Dana and Julia are on that app all the time.”

“It’s actually a lot of fun. The girls and I all downloaded it last night. There’s this challenge going around for couples, so I thought I’d give it a try. Look, watch your face.” You play the video back for him and you both start laughing. “But I won’t post it if you don’t want me to.”

“S’fine, I don’t really care.” He shrugs.

You post the video and add all the hashtags, then put your phone on the night table. You turn over and rest your head on his chest. You drape your leg over his, and he pulls your thigh up closer. He rubs his hand back and forth.

“Ohh, nice and smooth.” He coos. “Not that I really care if you’re hairy.”

“So if I just stopped shaving my legs, you wouldn’t care?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You said it’s for your own comfort right? Do what yeh want. It doesn’t bother me, hair is natural.”

“How progressive of you.” You say facetiously. He looks down at you as he continues to stroke your leg.

Your hand goes up into his hair and he leans in to lightly kiss you. You kiss him back, and you both sink into it. Your mouth opens for him and his tongue slides in tasting you until your tongue meets his. You both let out soft moans. One of his hands is cupping the back of your head, the other leaves your thigh and moves up to your breast, kneading it.

You pull him on top of you, and you feel his hard cock press against your hip, as your kiss deepens even more. It wasn’t often the two of you just made out. You always really liked kissing, to have someone’s lips on yours. Harry had soft lips, always. He was good at pressing them hard against yours, always making yours puffy and swollen after. You loved the shade of his lips too, especially after kissing. They would become this raspberry color. It made you want to bite onto them even more.

Subconsciously that’s what you do. You bite his bottom lip and suck it into your mouth. He groans and grinds himself against your hip. You let go of his lip slowly, really making a show of it as you open your eyes to look up at him.

“Want you.” He says in a whisper.

“Take me.” You whisper back.

He groans again kissing you quick before tugging his boxers down his legs, and tossing them to the floor. He hovers back over you, and you put your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands reaches between your legs to make sure you’re wet. Of course you are. It doesn’t take much with him. He smirks as you spread apart for him. He lines himself up and he slowly pushes inside. You both moan at the initial contact.

Once he’s all the way in, he stays there for a moment, just savoring how your velvety walls feel around him. You tighten out of instinct, and loosen up letting him know he can move. He slowly starts to rock his hips against yours. Your head falls back against the pillow.

“Y’like that?”

“Yes.” You say with your eyes rolling back into your head.

He keeps up the same motion, just rocking in and out of you, his tip hitting your g-spot already. He picks up the pace only a little to give himself some of the friction he’s been craving, but he slows it back down for you because he knows that’s how you like it. One of his hands drops back down to rub slow, but purposeful circles on your clit.

“Ngh, Harry.” You moan softly.

One of your hands moves from his shoulder to the grasp at the hair on the nape of neck. He drops his head to the crook of your neck, kissing you softly. Your breathing was getting heavier. He could feel you starting to tighten against him in preparation for your orgasm.

“Gonna come f’me, angel?” You moan at his words, your eyes fluttering closed. “Go on, I know you can do it. Come all around my cock.” He nips at your neck, and your heels dig into the backs of his thighs.

You let out a large moan of his name, tears pricking at your eyes, and he feels you pulsate around him. He fucks you through it, not letting up on your g-spot or clit. You come really hard, and the sound in the room fills with squelching and skin slapping against skin.

“Gimme another one, come on, let’s see how many we can go for.” Your eyes pop open. You realize he still hadn’t let up on you. You start panting again.

“Harry.” You groan. It was too much. You were so sensitive.

“Don’t hold back baby, just relax. Don’t fight it.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” The way he was talking to you was sending you to another dimension. You release around him again and he groans against you, loving the way it feels.

He leans up a bit and looks down at you with a wicked grin.

“What?” You say trying to catch your breath.

“Can I hit it from the side, love?” Your eyes grow dark with lust and you nod.

He helps you turn your body with him still inside you. One of your legs going up over his shoulders, and the other staying between his own legs. He rocks into you and your back arches immediately.

“Feel good?” He smirks.

“So good.” You clutch at the blankets as he continues to rock in and out of you. “Fuck, Harry.” You grit your teeth. You reach down to rub your swollen clit.

“Jesus.” He moans watching you touch yourself.

“Harry, I…I want you back on top of me, wanna feel your weight on me, please.”

“Anything you want, angel.”

He pulls out of you only for a moment to let you adjust. Both of his eyebrows raise as he watches you flip onto your stomach. You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Go on, I’m okay. Want it this way. Just get fully on top of me. You’ve done it before.”

“Okay…but…if-“

“I promise I’ll tell if you if I’m scared.” You wiggle your butt back at him to let you know you’re getting impatient.

He uses his thumbs to spread you apart, and he lines himself up to enter you again. You feel his chest flush to your back, and he rocks into you slowly. You raise your hips slightly to slip your hand underneath yourself to rub your clit. Harry grabs your other hand with his, and you intertwine. That’s that good shit, you think to yourself. Your hands rest together by your head.

He’s getting in so deep this way, and the way he’s squeezing one of your hips just feels so good. You rub yourself a little faster, and you feel another orgasm coming on. He can feel it coming too.

“That’s it baby, come f’me again.” That was all he needed to say to make your release come. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” You pulse and vibrate around his cock. You wonder how much longer he’ll last.

You both have a pretty decent rhythm going. You push yourself back against him, and his hand moves from your hip to your ass. You squeeze tighter on the hand that’s intertwined with yours. He kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. You arch up into him.

“I love you, Harry.” You groan.

“I love you too, so fuckin’ much. Wanna be able to look at yeh, can we do that?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out so you can flip back over. You grab back at his hand so you can continue to hold onto it. He knows you really like this. His other hand slides up your torso, feeling every inch of your smooth skin. His hand rest gently on your throat, he doesn’t even tighten around you, he just wants it there. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you. He thrusts in deep and stay there so you can grind against him.

“Harry.” You moan. You were overly sensitive at this point, but he was so rock hard inside you, it felt amazing.

“C’mon baby, show me how you do it.”

You nails from your free hand dig into his bicep as your fourth release comes out in waves.

“Shit! Fuck!” You scream. You were completely drenched in sweat now. You felt like you were going to need another shower. “Harry, please.”

“Not done with yeh yet, my love.” You look up at him. What the hell was he trying to do to you? He kisses you hard as he moves his hips in circles.

“Mother of fuck!” You gasp.

“Yeah, you like it when I do that, huh?” You nod your head yes as he continues you stretching you out like this.

You’re down for the count when you feel your legs start to shake again and your back arches fully off the bed. He smirks watching your body writhe underneath him.

“Harry.” You breathe. “It’s too much.”

“Want me to come now?”

“Yes, please. Fill me up.”

He grins at you and squeezes tightly on your hand as he thrusts in and out of you. It doesn’t take much for him to come. The warmth from it all feels incredible. He pulls out once he’s done, and collapses next to you. Your mouth hangs open as you look at him. Your legs felt like jello. It was some intense love making to say the least.

“What was that all about?” You say, reaching for him. He lays his head on your chest.

“Just something maybe you’ll keep in the back of your head next time you flirt with some bartender to get free drinks.” He looks up at you with a smirk, and your jaw drops farther.

Oh he was good, really good. He was telling the truth when he said he missed you. But he didn’t want to make you come over and over just because you both were in a lovey mood. No, he wanted to teach you a lesson. To remind you he was always there, no matter what. That he was the only one worth giving the time of day to. That he was the only one that was ever going to make you feel this way. Well played Mr. Styles, well played.

[monoxidecahedron]

Hamlaf Coffee Shop AU

This is the fic I was talking about in my last post! It’s pure fluff, and I love it. Tell me what you think, reblog and comments are always appreciated! I think I missed the “Alex is a food rider” part, but oh well. Below is the inspiration, done by @shanshala​, who is absolutely amazing.

Lafayette smiled at the coffee shop counter. His hair was tied up in a big poofball bun, he was wearing the signature white shirt and purple apron of the shop that contrasted nicely with his dark skin, and a perfect customer-service smile. He was ready to start his shift.

And then in came human hurricane Alexander Hamilton, the bell tinkling as he shoved the door open, clearly in a rush, cheeks pink from the cold outside. Lafayette felt his customer-service smile drop, replaced by an absolutely lovesick expression.

“Bonjour again, Alexandre,” he said, grinning charmingly at Alexander, who huffed. “I need a black coffee with four expresso shots, nothing else,” he said, hopping from one foot to the other impatiently. Lafayette laughed, going to the coffee machine. “You seem to run on coffee,” he observed, and it was true. Every day without fail he came running in, ordered a black coffee with an insanely unhealthy amount of caffeine, and ran back out in a hurry.

Alexander nodded, not in the mood for small talk. “I do, which is why I need that coffee,” he said. Normally other baristas would be indignant, and in fact several other employees had quit the morning shift just to avoid Alexander. But Lafayette found this incredibly endearing, and he’d volunteered for it, begged for the shift, in fact. He was quite the romantic. But still, he wasn’t in too deep, he told himself; the manager paid him extra to work the shift. So it was practical as well.

Lafayette smiled, writing “Alexandre” in loopy cursive on the cup and handing it over. “Bonne journée, mon Alexandre,” he called after Alex’s retreating figure. Receiving no response, he sighed dramatically, returning to the coffee machine. He didn’t see Alexander admiring the fancy cursive Sharpie on his cup as he turned the corner.

This pattern continued as it always had; Alexander would rush in, Lafayette would flirt shamelessly with him, and then he’d leave, and Lafayette would pine. Then one day Alexander just…. stopped coming.

“What happened? Do you know where he went?” Lafayette asked Hercules the next day, trying desperately to be casual. He failed, judging by the huge grin on his friend’s face. “Why do you care?” he asked, knowing full well why. “No reason, curious only,” he said, flustered. “Well, I heard he went on vacation,” Hercules said. Lafayette nodded. “Ah.” And so he set about his day, resigned to wait until his Alexandre came back.

And he did. Two weeks later, he came back, hair in a messy bun that somehow seemed to endear him even more to Lafayette. He approached the counter and Lafayette immediately got to work on his order, knowing it by heart after months. “How was your vacation?” he asked flippantly, hoping for a response, even though the more rational part of his brain told him that he’d probably get a grumpy one-word answer in response.

To his surprise, Alexander started talking. “Oh my god, it was horrible! Well, the vacation itself was pretty fun, me and a buddy went down to LA, and yes, it’s way more sunny than the Seattle weather here, I swear I was almost blinded-” Lafayette giggled- “but once I got used to it, it was complete heaven, like, it was actually warm! Can you believe that?” Not stopping for an answer, he continued on. “And the beaches were amazing! But the horrible part was that all the hippies there made the coffee shops assume that I wanted, like, creamer or something,” he said, emphasizing creamer as if it was some instrument of the devil. “And the barista at the coffee shop near the place me and my buddy rented was horrible, just yes or no answers, not friendly at all! The customer service in LA sucks,” he finished. Noticing Lafayette staring at him, he blushed slightly. “Sorry, I know I haven’t been the best customer either,” he said sheepishly. Lafayette began to reassure him that it was no problem, really, but Alexander talked on. “But yeah, really, sorry for that, y’all must go through some shitty people,” he said, still talking at the rapid pace he had been for the past five minutes. “Oh my god, was I talking too much? Sometimes I get overexcited, shoot off at the mouth, I’ve been told it’s very annoying,” he said quietly.

Lafayette wasn’t a very violent person, but at that moment he wanted to punch whoever told him it was annoying. How could anyone possibly say that, with the way Alexander’s eyes shined as he talked and the passionate way he described everything? Lafayette felt like he’d melt any second, he was so smitten. “It is alright, Alexandre,” he said. “I quite enjoy it, actually.” He winked. Alexander flushed, but recovered quickly. “Oh yeah, I forgot- the worst thing about that coffee shop in LA was that the barista was nowhere near as attractive,” he said, grinning. Lafayette blushed. “Is that so? Perhaps time away from me has made you realize you’ve grown attached?”

Alexander grinned. “Exactly.” There was silence for a bit as Lafayette busied himself with adding something extra on his cup, handing it over as Alex’s phone pinged. He pulled it out of his pocket, grabbing the coffee with a hurried “thanks” and rushing out the door, same as always.

Except several hours later, when Alex got off the phone with his boss, he found a number written elegantly beneath his name, in which Lafayette had added a little heart.

And several hours later, Lafayette felt his phone buzz as he cleaned up in preparation to go home.

“Bonjour?” “Hey Laf! This is Alex.”

And several weeks later, the number labeled “❤️Alexandre❤️” texted him, telling him to meet at the park.

And several minutes later he was there, Alexander looking nervous as he sat across the park bench from him, fumbling with his words.

And several hours later, Lafayette left, lovesick smile on his face as he kissed his new boyfriend goodnight.

And years after that first time, he was kissing Alexander again, this time in celebration as a ring glinted on his finger.

Yes, the customer service is trashy eight times out of ten in LA (although there are some really nice people) and yes, it’s set in Seattle because I just thought it fit. And yes, I’ve been there, and yes, the weather is very grey, although I might be biased because I’m used to sunlight.

oh yeah, and the Space Needle is awesome.

[6ftslytherin]

Another fic

Ismelda comes over, but Marie's family is weird.

(Trigger warning for bipobia.)

Marie was on pins and needles. She needed this to go well. Her and Ismelda had been dating since April. Sure. Ismelda had been over once before, but that was as a friend and she didn't have the chance to introduce her to her family. Now things were completely different. Marie would have to introduce them to each other. Unfortunately, her family was being their normal selfs at the moment.

"Guys, are you sure we need a cake?" Marie asked as she watched her parents put together a silver and black three layer cassata cake. "Oh qizi, we're just so excited for you! We didn't think you would have a partner until your mid twenties." her mother Regina said with a small dab of frosting on her cheek. "Marigold, you need to stop being so cute." her father Robert said before kissing the frosting away. "Robbie!" Regina put down the bag of frosting she had been using. She grabbed him and gave him a dip kiss.

"Yeah... Uh... Could you guys... Not be so... Touchy feely while Ismelda is here?" Marie asked as her parents seemed to be posing for a cheesy romance paperback. "What do you mean?" Regina asked while holding Robert's butt. "Ismelda is coming over as my girlfriend for the first time. You guys are used to doing this lovey dovey stuff but we've barely held hands. You're gonna freak her out!" Marie tried to calmly explain. She knew for a fact her and Ismelda had kissed three times, but telling her parents would just get them to want talk about it like school girls.

"I agree. You inherited your swooning powers from me. It's only natural that you would scare the poor girl." Said a handsome blond twenty-something that was reading The Daily Prophet with a cup of tea. Marie set her sight on him next. "And uh... grandpa Ford? I'm not going to ask you to take off the youth illusion, but could you at least not dress like a gigolo?" She asked. "It's not my fault the Italians make a great suit. It's also not my fault I make them look better." He said. Marie scratched at her own hair. "She's going to think we're insane." Marie quietly said. Then she noticed two missing elements.

"Where are Jimmy and Conan? Are they looking for frogs?" She asked. "Probably." Robert said. Marie scratched her hair more. "Why? We are having a guest over and you let them go play in the mud?" She asked. Regina had stopped kneading Robert's dough and walked over to Marie. She put her arms around her in a big hug. "Marie, everything is going to be alright. Flipping out is just going to make you stressed." Marie didn't like to be touched by anyone she wasn't close with. A tight hug from her mom was something that made her feel all warm inside.

Then her dad came over and picked them both up in a bear hug. Not that hard to do since Marie was chronically underweight and her mother was small. He was clearly sniffling. "My baby girl, going out into the world and finding a girlfriend of her own." He said with tears of joy in his eyes. Marie knew what was coming next. She was unable to protect herself from the coming attack. Robert gave Marie a bunch of stubbly kisses on her cheek. "Dad!" She loudly said as she felt her skin becoming irritated. "Could you at least shave before Ismelda gets here?" "I think he looks ruggedly handsome." Regina said.

"Do you need help?" Marie's blood went cold. She looked over to the doorway to see her girlfriend Ismelda. It was easy for Marie's pale skin to show blush. This time she could have been been mistaken for a ripe tomato. She was so embarrassed she didn't notice that her feet were back on the floor. Her legs felt like they had the bones removed. She tried to regain her composer and ignore the urge to chew on her hand.

"I-Is. I-I didn't k-k-know you were h-h-here yet." Marie said, cursing her nervous stutter. "Yeah. They let me in." Ismelda said pointing out the window. Marie was horrified to see her half naked brothers, coated in mud, heading to the outside showers. Marie just about fainted. Why did her brothers have to have such an interest in reptiles? Why did it have to rain last night? Why did her family have to be weirdos?

"Marie!" Marie snapped back to reality. Ismelda was slowly pulling Marie's hand from her mouth. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Ismelda asked. "Y-yeah. I'm fine. My family's j-just a bit m-m-much." Marie said. She felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see her parents looking worried. "Are you okay? Are you overwhelmed? Do you need to sit down?" Regina asked. Her father was holding a chair. Grandpa Ford was holding a glass of water.

Marie scratched her hair. Even if they were goofy, they cared. "I think she just needs to go to her room. I'll take her." Ismelda said as she lightly pulled Marie to the door. "Yeah. I think some privacy would be good." Marie said as she walked out the door with Ismelda.

They got to Marie's room. Ismelda closed the curtains as Marie flopped face first on her bed. She put a pillow over her head. Marie felt Ismelda rubbing her back. For some reason, Ismelda was one of the few people who's touch made Marie feel relaxed. Ismelda always managed to find just the right spot on her lower back. "You doin okay?" Ismelda asked. "Yeah..." Marie said through the pillow.

Marie turned her head for clearer speech. "I'm sorry for that..." "For what?" "My family. They're just like that." "At least your family cares about you. I don't think I've been hugged in years. At least not when my parents didn't need to look like they cared to other people." Marie remembered when she had gone to Ismelda's house. Her parents hadn't even looked up from what they had been doing when Ismelda introduced them. She had said without hesitation that Maire was her girlfriend. All that was said by her father was, "tell us when your done playing queer."

Marie couldn't believe what he had said, but Ismelda explained that they didn't believe she was bisexual. Her sister had been the one to find out first (read her dairy,) and told their parents. They demanded answers. When confronted about her newfound female attraction, she explained she liked men and women. Her parents assumed she was doing it for attention. Her sister however had started to make fun of her for being a lesbian. For some reason they couldn't understand she liked both. Now she keeps a hidden dairy and a decoy she 'hid.' Her real diary was in the form of puzzle box that turned into a book when solved. She was tired of people reading it.

When Marie told Ismelda both her parents were bi themselves she became very interested in meeting them. Must be nice to know older people with the same identity. Where was Marie going to find a middle aged lesbian? The only gay women she knew were her cousin Sabine and her friends. She couldn't consider them her elders in the non-heteronormative community.

Marie rolled on to her back, Ismelda's hand now resting on her lower abdomen. "I think I've calmed down enough." She said. "Good. Though, your cute when you panic. Not that you are panicking. I didn't mean it like that. But the little things you do." Ismelda said as she played with hem of Marie's shirt. Her face turned a bit pinker. "Like when your face gets all red and your ears do too." Marie thought about the same thing happening to Ismelda. Yeah. It was cute. Ismelda started to use her free hand to play with her hair. Also cute. Ismelda started to move in for a kiss.

The door opened, she froze. "Qizi, the cakes done." Regina said as she poked her head in. "Oh." She said, seeing her flushed daughter on the bed and her also flushed girlfriend who was holding the bottom of her shirt while leaning over her. Regina shut the door faster than she had opened it. "Well... When your done we can cut the cake. Internal condoms and dental dams are under the bathroom counter. Use the water based lube. Should be right next to them." She said on the other side of the door before audibly walking away.

At that point all Marie wanted to do was disappear. Her mother thought they were going to need contraceptives?! She appreciated the offer, but Marie did not need them! She put a pillow over her face and screamed. She heard laughing. "Did she think we're 'getting busy?' Oh my god! And you guys keep that stuff in stock?!" Ismelda said as she laughed so hard she was snorting. "Your family is insane, I love it!" Marie removed the pillow. She couldn't help but laugh as well. "Yeah, I love them too." She reached up and finish the kiss Ismelda had started.

"So what kind of cake?" Ismelda asked. "Cassata." "Any reason for that type?" Ismelda asked as she cupped Marie's face. "I might have said it's your favorite. It's their first time making it, so don't get upset if it's not up to your standard." Marie said. "Maybe I'll try the speciality next time. What would that be?" "That would be either kurabye cookies or shekerbura. My dad learned Azerbaijani cooking to impress my grandparents." "No idea what those are." "Kurabye are jam-" Marie was cut off by Ismelda saying, "Actually, I want it to be a surprise. In fact, I want a full course meal with only the finest cooking. Completely a surprise as well." "No problem, but we should probably get downstairs. Before my parents think we really are 'getting busy." "Can't wait to be formally introduced."

Bonus:

"We weren't doing anything." Marie said as she finished her last bite of cake. "I wasn't doing anything either, that's how you got here." Regina said before sipping her tea. "But we're both cis women. How would we conceive?" Marie said, setting down her fork. "Safe sex should be done regardless of what parts you and your partner have." Regina said. Marie groaned as she started to scratch at her hair.

[khiphop-writings]

Promise

Boxer!Jay Park x ER Doctor! Reader

Warnings: Suggestive(?)(not really) lil bit of violence

Word count: 4k

“Okay” you finished gently rubbing the antiseptic and placed a bandage over the fresh stitches you had just done “now, rest and absolutely no physical contact for-” “Y/N you’re needed over here” your coworker interrupted you and you rolled your eyes “2 weeks, you can go over there to book a follow up” you gestured towards the reception desk “okay what’s happening now” you were at the sink washing your hands and prepping a fresh pair of gloves “I just need you to take that patient behind curtain number three I’m busy” Minho handed you the chart once you had your new gloves on and rushed away “let’s see” you opened the thick chart “geez this is huge how often does this person get hurt” you pulled back the cream curtains and you were met with the familiar tattooed man, this time a lip gushing with blood and a swollen eye “seriously??” you threw your arms up in frustration “this is what? The third time this week, the eighth time this month??” “wow are you keeping track of me?” he grinned but it quickly turned into a grimace cause of his lip injury “whatever you’re doing you need to stop this isn’t healthy” you scolded him “but then I wouldn’t get to see you” he reached towards you hand and you quickly dodged it and got your suture kit out “you don’t need to keep injuring yourself if you want to see me” you sighed and began cleaning his bottom lip, he winced when you applied pressure “of course I do, you refused to give me your number the first time” you shook your head “I work in an emergency room for a living, relationships don’t work with me” “then I’ll continue to get hurt these are our dates” you placed the needle through his lip without warning and jerked away from you “that’s cause you won’t shut up now hold still”. 

“So what exactly do you do” you asked mindlessly checking things off in your chart “do you want to see?” he put his jacket on and walked towards you “not really know if you end up looking like this” you used your pen to gesture towards him. “You should come one night I think you’d have fun” you finally met his eyes “well too bad I work every night, tending to idiots like you” you sarcastically frowned “come on you don’t work EVERY night” “and what if I do?” he knew you were lying “okay I don’t work Thursday’s” you sighed “that perfect!” a smile appeared on his face “be careful you’re gonna pop the stitches!” you hit him with his own chart “sorry sorry!” he held his hands up in defense “so give me your number and I’ll text you details” he handed his phone to you and you regretfully complied, entering your number. 

You walked over to the desk, rubbing your neck, it had been a long night. “That took you so long” Minho was sitting across from you in the receptionist seat you knew wasn’t his “Jay Park… again” you rolled your eyes “seriously that the third time I’ve seen him here” “I know he keeps insisting on seeing me”. You went through your charts to make sure everything was in order. “aw that’s kind of sweet, why don’t you go on a date with him?” you looked at him as if he was insane “the man is literally a masochist, who gets hurt like that all the time? an insane person” you answered your own question “Okay but you don’t know that maybe he does…” Minho couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for Jay’s frequent injuries “exactly… but I might’ve agreed to come see him at his work” you gave him an embarrassed look “oh no way… you def like him” he grinned “do not! I’m just curious” you stacked up your charts and began to walk away “yeah sure” Minho called but you just walked away smiling. 

You got out of your car and stared at the unfamiliar brick building, unsure if you should continue, you tried texting Jay but he was suddenly unresponsive. “I’m gonna get killed” you thought as you locked your phone and walked towards the building. You saw a lot of people standing around a table waving cash around, you checked your wallet and hoped you brought enough money, he didn’t tell you you had to pay. You walked up to the table and people were throwing names out along with cash and men were writing the names, counting cash and yelling at people, the whole atmosphere was chaotic. 

You stood around unsure of what to do, trying to find a way out “So who are you betting on?” a strange man asked next to you “bet?” your eyes widened and you looked at him in confusion he started laughing, too loud for your comfort “is this your first time?” “y-yeah” you felt embarrassed “what is this place? Jay never told me” you tried to look around for any clues but failed “Jay?” The man was seemingly in shock “Yeah Jay Park, he’s been coming to my hospital a lot, do you know him?” “of course everyone here knows him” “they do why-” “are you gonna bet or not” “I’ll do $100 on Jay for tonight” the man placed a stack of cash on the table “she won’t be betting tonight” he moved you guys away from the table. You started to walk through the dark hallway towards the main area “why are you betting on Jay?” he just stared at you with an incredulous look on his face“god you are in for such a shock” he ruffled your hair “I’m Hyukwoo by the way” “Y/N” you gave him a nod.

The two of you arrived to the main area and it all started to make sense, you looked around at the audience stands, the dark lighting and right smack dab in the middle, a huge boxing ring lit up by a few bright lights “no shit” you looked at the ring, running your fingers along the ropes. “Are you shocked?” Hyukwoo practically shouted at you, the room was too loud “kind of? But not really?? I don’t know it kind of explains the frequent injuries” you shrugged “what do you mean? Have you met him before?” “Yeah, who do you think stitches him up all the time” you scoffed. It was his turn for his eyes to become wide “no way you’re the cute doctor???” he shut his mouth quickly “the what???” you laughed “I’ve said too much, look they’re about to come out” he turned his head towards the ring and you followed suit. 

The announcer came out microphone in hand, it was all so cliche you couldn’t believe this stuff actually went down like this “tonight we have newcomer Alex” the announcer’s voice boomed and out came a really young looking kid however he looked fearless and scary, the crowd cheered loudly for him. He was shirtless with black boxer shorts on, and his hair in a man bun, one thing you did take note however he didn’t have any gloves on. Your stomach twisted, this was most definitely illegal, the bets, this sketchy looking place, no gloves which meant they could basically pummel each other to death “that explains the busted knuckles one time” your face twisted. “Next up we have, your favorite and mine Jay Park” the announcer stressed out the last syllable of his name for what felt like forever and the crowd roared, out came Jay hands wrapped up, shirtless, in white boxer shorts, hair draped over his face. Your heart began to speed up a little bit, you weren’t sure if it was because you thought he looked nice or if you were anxious about what’s to come. 

Jay started swinging as soon as the whistle blew, he missed the first couple but he finally landed one straight in Alex’s jaw, that knocked him back a bit but Alex started furiously throwing punches at him that he tried his best to dodge but Alex managed to get a few into his ribs. You were very noticeably at the edge of your seat, practically almost falling off, Hyukwoo chuckled and pulled you back “he’s doing great” he whispered in your ear and you finally breathed in what felt like forever. The match ended by Jay trapping his opponent between his legs and Alex had finally tapped out, you breathed a sigh of relief and stood up with the crowd to congratulate him. 

Hyukwoo helped lead you to the locker room and wait for Jay, when his eyes landed on you a shit eating grin formed on his face “wow I can’t believe you actually came” he tried to pull you into a hug but you unknowingly dodged it and began examining him, the doctor in you taking over. “And how’s your breathing I saw he punched you in your chest pretty hard, could you breath for me” you placed your hand on his muscular chest, eyebrows knit in concentration, he placed his hand over yours “hey you’re not working today so don’t worry about it alright?” he swiftly removed your hand from his chest and intertwined your fingers, you blushed, unfamiliar with this sudden touchy-feely behavior. “Let me just-” “no no no let’s go out to eat” he smiled dragging you to his car. 

A few minutes later you were sitting next to Jay, across from Hyukwoo enjoying some burgers “and he literally comes in all the time, even for probable concussions” you laughed explaining how often Jay frequents your hospital “well you can never be too safe” he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment “yeah especially when the doctor is so cute” Hyukwoo raises his eyebrows suggestively “yeah that too” Jay coughs “who? Minho?” you try to hide the blush on your cheek and Jay just laughs. Hyukwoo had to leave early, leaving you and Jay alone, he leaned against your car before you could get in, “sooo” he looped his fingers through your belt loops, pulling you closer, your bodies practically touching “I would really like to see you again, minus Hyukwoo” he smirks. You look down playing with a rock under your shoe “I don’t know… I’m always working you won’t like it” you frowned “I work every night just like you” he argued “how about we let the day time be for us” he holds your chin to make you look at him “okay maybe we can go on one date” you smile.

The following Thursday you found yourself in the same booth as the last time except you were sitting across from Jay this time Hyukwoo nowhere to be found. “Sorry this is the only place that’s open this late” he mumbled “that’s okay I like this place” you gave him a warm smile that seemed to ease his nervousness. After that you fell into comfortable conversation, trying to get to know each other as best as possible. “And so what’s the grossest thing you’ve seen in the ER” you pretended to think for a minute “you” you teased and he threw his head back laughing “what? Sometimes you have nasty cuts” you laughed with him. “But seriously ummm” you paused “ooo okay so one time we had to pull an axe out of this man's stomach and then once we removed it he just didn’t stop bleeding so I had to-” you looked up and Jay looked a little sick, you chuckled “I’ll stop this is clearly too graphic for you” “sorry I just wasn’t expecting it” he sighed “no worries” you nodded and you guys fell silent. “Well so why do you box?” you rested your chin in your palm leaning into him “hm I don’t really know, it's good money, I’m good at it” he shrugged “it’s as nice way to get anger out” he gave you an unsure look “well I have a lot of anger maybe you should teach me one day” you raised your eyebrows playfully “maybe” he smiled.

After three more dates Jay wanted to make you his, officially, which you were hesitant about. Yeah you were falling for him but his career made you extremely anxious. You grew accustomed to the routine you two had created, seeing each other practically every day going on little dates and sometimes just spending the day at either of your guys apartments, Some nights when he had small cuts or bruises, he would show up at your door using it as an excuse to be able to spend the night even though you would have let him anyway. 

You even let Jay take you to his gym to teach you how to box. He strapped you in the protective gear, patting the padded helmet on your head and giving you a kiss on the nose. “Okay so you’re going to want to” he placed his leg in between yours, guiding your foot into a proper stance in front of the red punching bag “yeah stand just like that” then he wrapped his arms around yours lifting them up in front of your face you blushed slightly at the closeness. “okay now keep your elbow straight” his fingertips grazed your elbow and then he tapped lightly signaling you to throw the first punch, it wasn’t hard at all, he heard him hold back a laugh “ugh come on” you turned around hitting him lightly “okay okay let’s try again” he turned you around placing you back into the same stance. 

After a couple of missed punches you finally landed one straight on the punching bag “OH NICE” he shouted picking you up and shaking you “hey don’t congratulate me yet I want to be as good as you” you raised your gloved fist in his face turning back to throw more punches at the bag. “I see why you like this” you said between punches “although I usually just punch minho whenever I’m upset” “maybe we should get you your own” Jay laughed “or maybe I can just come here with you” you grinned “well then I would end up being too distracted by you” he wrapped his arms around you. 

In turn you met him at his apartment, medically prepared first aid kit in tow, you agreed to teach him how to treat his wounds. You were seated on his bathroom counter, Jay placed himself between your legs, you were teaching him each product and what order he would need to apply everything “Okay so this is called…” you held up the brown bottle “peroxide” he responded and you nodded with a smile. “I don’t see why we’re doing this I have you” he ran a finger down your thigh,“well sometimes I’m asleep when you show up I’d like to sleep a full night” you swatted his hand away and leaned forward wiping his cut with the peroxide. “Plus you asked me” you got defensive “maybe it was just so I could get you in this position” he wrapped your legs around his back and picked you up off the counter, he pressed a peck into your lips.

As quickly as things had happened, things fell apart just as quickly.

You tried to attend every match you could and you gave him a thorough check up whenever you could, it just made you so nervous even though he was undeniably good. You would never express to him your uneasiness, he loved boxing and you don’t expect him to stop it for you, that would be unfair but it just made you want to throw up sometimes. Every time someone bursted through the doors on a late night, your heart raced and you always had to check to make sure it wasn’t your boyfriend. 

“Good job” you clapped your hands lightly, you met Jay at your usual after match spot, he pulled you into his arms swinging you around “that was seriously one of my bests ugh that was great” he grinned widely “yeah you were really great out there” you patted down his sweaty hair “do you want to go to our usual place?” you asked as he grabbed his bag “of course” he took your hand in his “ugh wow I still can’t get over how great that-” Jay hunched over coughing a bit “are you alright” you rubbed his back “did anything come out when you coughed? A color-” “stop Y/N seriously stop” he moved away from you “do you have to baby me all the time? This shit happens it’s normal after getting a few hits” his words hit you like a truck “well excuse me for caring about you” you bit back tears “no- that’s not what I meant” he tried to grab your wrists but you pulled away “no I know exactly what you mean” you sighed walking away. 

You woke up and surprisingly found Jay next to you in your bed, you only remembered crying yourself to sleep, not him coming home with you. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder but you moved away from his touch “Y/N please” he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in close so you couldn't move away. “That was so stupid of me to say, I know you’re a doctor and its just instinct, I actually really do appreciate your care” you stayed silent so he could continue “I don’t know what came over me I was just all really excited about winning and I didn’t want to think about things that could drag the mood down” “are you saying I drag the mood down” you spat “no of course not, it’s just if something bad were to happen to me I didn’t want it to be in that moment.” You finally turned around to face him “I’ll try to hold back” you ran your hand up and down his muscular forearm “no please” he placed a kiss on your cheek “don’t” one on your other cheek “hold back” and finally a kiss on your lips “I really like not having to go to the hospital to see you and I get a free check up” he mumbled into your neck “now will you give me a check up doctor?” he gave you a smirk.

Things seemed to go downhill since that day. After another attempted check up a couple weeks later and him lashing out in the same way except you didn’t wake up next to him that morning. 

[To: Jay]: Hey… I’m sorry about last night can we meet up?

[From: Jay]: Sorry :( I have a huge match to prep for later this week

[To: Jay]: Oh… okay well if it’s on a night that I’m not working let me know so I can watch! :) 

[From: Jay]: Sure.

You went to work extremely distracted, constantly checking your phone for an update. When your phone locked and you were met with your reflection you finally heard Minho “Y/N did you hear what I said?” you looked up sheepishly “no sorry” “come on let’s go get some coffee”.

You hadn’t told him everything that happened just that you were currently in a “weird spot”, he knew there was more to it but he didn't want to push you. “Okay I’m taking your phone for the rest of the night” he pried it out of your clutch “you’re a doctor focus” he nudged your arm. 

“How are you and Jay doing?” Minho asked one day while you two were trying to rest in the on call room “umm” you trailed off. “I actually haven’t seen him in a while” your voice was quiet “really? What happened?” he rolled over to face you “I guess I’m too pushy, the doctor in me always wants to check up on him and we talked about and I thought we got over it but I guess not” you frowned “He can’t date a doctor and not expect that to happen” Minho scoffed “he says it ruins the mood” “oh Y/N I’m so sorry” he opened up his blanket and you squeezed into the twin bed with him, he rubbed your arm “I’m sure things will get better soon” he whispered.

You hadn’t seen Jay for about a week after that, his texts were short and he never told you when his matches were. It was impossible to get a hold of him and it was very much distracting you at work. It wasn’t until you started to cut a patient's circulation off with a blood pressure monitor minho decided enough was enough.

-Minho Pov-

“Hi is this Jay?” he tried to say as sternly as possible, gathering up all his courage. “No he’s training right now but I can take a message?” a man said from the other end “Well I don’t know if you know who Y/N is but he’s completely cut her off and it’s affecting her heavy, I need him to figure his shit out and talk to her” there was a moment of silence until the other man spoke up “wow I had no idea… I’ll talk to him for sure thank you” minho nodded even though he couldn’t be seen and hung up.

It was a very quiet night in the ER you were tending to your last patients when suddenly the EMT’s burst through the doors rushing past you with a gurney “I've got an unconscious male, seems to have taken multiple hits, Y/N I need your help on this” on of the EMT says as he placed the gurney behind a curtain, pulling out an ambu bag. This type of thing was normal for you, you were always calm in these situations, that was until you actually saw the unconscious man, you clipboard clattered to the floor and your ears began to ring, you felt dizzy, hoped, prayed it was a dream. “Y/N please pump his chest” the EMT placed the ambu bag on Minsik’s face and waited for you to get beside him. Your body moved unconsciously doing the actions it’s known to do by heart, that was all you could do, in your head you were screaming at him trying to tell him how stupid he was. Tears began to fall down your face and you began to pump his chest harder “I can’t…. we can’t lose him” you strained out “we’re not going to” minho stroked your hair, you had no idea when he had gotten there “keep going you’re doing great” he was frantically checking Jay’s pulse for any sign. Your hands hurt from pumping so much and your vision was blurry, you were so tired, you wanted this to end “I’m feeling something keep going Y/N” Minho perked up keeping his thumb on Jay’s wrist. You pushed yourself to keep going no matter how much it hurt “come on you idiot don’t leave me please” a second wave of tears began to flood “please please” at this point you weren’t sure if your pumping was hurting or helping him. Five minutes felt like eternity, five minutes had passed and that’s when Jay finally jerked up taking a deep breath, for some reason you were still pumping until Minho took your shaking hands in his pulling you to his chest “He’s alright look, he’s gonna make it” he whispered into your ear but you just continued to sob until your tears ran out. 

The next time you saw Jay you felt like punching him straight in the face, however when you looked at the man all hooked up to the machines and in a hospital gown you grew extremely sad. You immediately ran to his side wrapping him in your arms, last night you thought you wouldn’t be able to feel this again “you’re an idiot you’re such a fucking idiot” you sobbed loudly  into his chest “I know, I know” he whispered caressing your head.

A/N: Hi! how is everyone! I hope you guys liked this, please note I really know nothing about the medical field this is just me w my research lol. Requests are open please let me know what you think about this!

[hisan-miren]

Redacted File

The First Date Pt 3

The two ate their meal in relative silence- although Mina did see fit to steal one of his sweet potatoes and quickly snatched it up before he could do anything.  He stared at her for a few seconds, completely flabbergasted (which was a hilarious look on him) before he snatched up her umeboshi (since she’d eaten all of her tempura.)  It quickly devolved into the two trying to steal even more of each other’s food and general tomfoolery and laughter after that.  They made sure to pick up anything they dropped or spilled in the chaos, knowing full well that Raios’ mother would thoroughly chew them out if they didn’t.  When the food (and cleanup) was finished, Raios loaded their tableware back on the tray to be taken away later, and the two moved to sit out on the walkway facing the garden.

“So, what comes after this?” Raios asked, half-grumbling.

“Well, I think it generally goes that you propose, I accept, and then we get married and live happily ever after,” Mina replied.

“I didn’t mean our relationship, you idiot!” Raios snapped, his face turning bright red.  “I meant this date!  I’m not exactly a fountain of knowledge when it comes to this!”

“Well-…”  Mina flopped over on her side, laying across Raios’ lap and causing him to panic very briefly, “we could always go to your roo-”

“Rejected,” Raios spat, a cold and angry demeanor taking back over.  “What is with you and my room anyways?  If you try to recommend it one more time, I’m seriously going to smack you.”

“Got it.  Won’t do it again,” she replied, a bit shocked by how genuinely angry he seemed to be at the mere idea of it.  Shocked, but not perturbed.  She’d try again next time.

“Pick something else.”  He still seemed pretty pissed, but his tone had lost a bit of its edge.

“… Isn’t this fine?”

“Huh?”

“Being like this,” she replied, motioning to their position.  “Or did you want to the one using my lap?” she teased.

“Hu- wh- No!  That’s not what I meant at all!” Raios spluttered, cheeks turning dark again. “And this isn’t what I meant! Aren’t people supposed to do things?!”

“This is doing something though,” Mina replied calmly. “And I am plenty satisfied to just stay like this and chat for a few hours.”

“My legs will fall asleep,” Raios complained.

“Then we can switch!  In an hour you can use my lap.”

“Somehow I get the sense that this isn’t exactly what usually happens on a first date.”

“Well yeah,” Mina replied.  “Usually, the boyfriend isn’t grounded.  We made the most of what we could, and it was fine.  I mean, we’re not breaking any records, but I don’t want to set our relationship to the pace of others’.”  Mina made herself comfortable again on his lap and stared up at him, starting yet another staring contest.  She was content to keep going too until Raios eventually sighed and leaned over.  She was so confused about what was going on that she didn’t realize what had happened until the sensation left her lips. She just stared up at him wide-eyed and quietly covered her mouth.  There was a silence and then she raised a finger.  “One more time.”

“Huh?”

“Do it again.  I wasn’t ready.”

“No,” he replied, seeming pretty adamant this time.

“Oh come on!”  She covered her face as she felt her cheeks start to actually physically burn. She kicked her feet against the wood floor and started to roll around in Raios’ lap, trying to remember not to let herself fall.  “Just one more!  Come on, please?!”

“I know you, it definitely won’t be ‘just one more’,” Raios replied flatly.

“You’re so mean!” Mina whined.

“Yup, I’m mean, horrible, awful- feel free to call me all the names you want, you’re not getting another one.”  Mina gave one last futile, dying groan of disappointment and laid flat on Raios’ lap again.

“I didn’t think you’d do it.”

“You underestimated me.”

“Clearly.”  Raios watched, slightly amused, as her face began to turn red again and she quickly tried to re-cover her face.  “Ughhhhh… Let’s just end it here for today. I don’t think I can function after that.”

“You sure?”

“Not at all, but I think I’m going to be completely useless the rest of the day.  Also my self-control just went in the garbage.”

“Huh?!  Your self-control?!” Raios asked.

“I’m gonna die.  I’m legitimately going to die.”

“You’re not gonna die from a kiss,” Raios ground out.

“I am so gonna die.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a drama queen.”

“And I didn’t realize you were such a tease!”

“Well there’s a lot more where that came from,” he replied, grinning smugly.  She looked up at him only to cover her face again.

“Okay, now I’m gonna die.”

“I’m not playing this game.”

“GREAT!  Because I’m already losing!”  Raios just sighed and leaned back while his girlfriend silently freaked out in his lap. “Ugh…  It should be illegal to be that hot…” Mina grumbled to herself.

“I’d be a lot more legal if you took off your rose-tinted glasses.”

“No thanks, I’m happy where they are.”

“You are just-…”  Raios gave a sigh that was somewhere between ‘annoyed’ and ‘exasperated’.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘incorrigible’,” Mina replied cheekily.

“That’s definitely the word I was looking for.”

“Ready to switch yet?”

“We’re not switching,” Raios replied flatly. “You’ll just use it to kiss me.”

“You saw through it…” Mina grumbled, clicking her tongue and crossing her arms in irritation.  “Then at least give me your hand.  That’s the least you can do.”  She huffed and pouted until Raios eventually felt he had no other recourse but to give into her demands.  He sighed and picked one of his hands off the wooden floor and offered it to her. Mina’s demeanor immediately turned from sullen and dour to gleeful and bright.  Her two smaller hands immediately latched on, and her cheek quickly found its way into her palm.

“What in reverse world is so fun about this?” Raios grumbled. Mina’s thought process was completely beyond him most of the time, but he found this sort of behavior especially weird.  It wasn’t like this was the first time.  She’d done stuff like this to flirt with him even before they started going out, but he didn’t really understand this need for closeness she seemed to have.  He understood wanting to hold hands and be close, but hers seemed to border on outright cuddling.  He didn’t mind, but he didn’t quite get it either.  They sat in silence like that for a while; she spent time feeling out the callouses on his fingers and tracing the wrinkled creases of his palm like she was trying to memorize every inch of it.  A while passed like that without speaking, and eventually Mina sat up and chose to latch herself to Raios’ arm instead.  “I’ve been meaning to ask for a bit, but you’re the type that likes cuddling, aren’t you?”

“If I say ‘yes’, can we cuddle?” she asked hopefully.

“Absolutely not,” Raios replied flatly.  “What if one of my family walked by?  We’re in the garden.  At least pretend to have a bit of shame.”

“But if we weren’t somewhere with other people around?” she asked, eyes glinting with mischief.  

“…I’d think about it…” he replied quietly.

“Alright!” Mina cheered, pumping her fist.

“I didn’t say ‘yes’!” Raios snapped, a bit flustered.

“It’s just as good,” Mina replied.

They sat there and chatted for a while longer, continuing their game of pushing and pulling every now and then until the sun was halfway to the horizon. Raios looked up and judged that it was probably around 5:00pm.  Mina probably had to get home soon.

“Come on, get up,” Raios said, shrugging the arm that she was still very much latched onto.

“Don’t wanna,” Mina pouted.

“Get up,” Raios ground out.  “I gotta take you home.”

“I thought you were grounded,” Mina replied skeptically.

“You honestly think the old hag would allow me to not walk you home?”

“… Fair point.”  Mina reluctantly released him and stood up to stretch.  “We can work out the details of our next date on the way. I wonder where we should go~”

“Ever the opportunist,” Raios sighed, slowly getting up and working the pins and needles out.  The couple made their way over to the entryway, making sure to stop by the kitchen where Raios’ mother would be.  He popped his head in and got his mother’s attention.  She put down the dish she was using to taste the soup, a little surprised that her son had come to find her.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I’m taking Mina home,” Raios said.

“You know you can’t leave the house, correct?”

“You would really have me not accompany her to ensure she gets home safely?” Raios growled.  Mina was a force of nature.  No one messed with her if they were trying to have a good and decent day.  But it was the principle of the matter.  Mrs. Minori’s placid face slowly morphed into a sly smile, and she turned back to the soup in front of her.

“If you’re not back in 30 minutes, I’m sending your sister after you.”

“I’ll come right back,” he replied quickly.  That was the last thing he wanted.  His sister would interrogate him the entire way back and drive him insane.  Dinner was already going to be bad enough, he didn’t need it to happen without the distraction of food (and he was sure their parents would conveniently ignore her jabs in an attempt to satiate their own curiosity.)  

“D’you get permission?” Mina asked.

“Yup, but I gotta be kinda quick otherwise aneki will be sent for me.  Being alone with her would be the most obnoxious thing in the world.”

“I’m not envious.”

“Must be nice being an only child.”  Mina just shrugged and started slipping her geta on.  Raios quickly followed, suit and the two left to go to her place.

“So, where should we go next time?” Mina asked.  

“A date on the mainland is a bit hard since it’d take most of the day to get there,” Raios mused, “but we might be able to get on a ferry to one of the nearby islands that has more to do.”  He looked over to find Mina pouting which completely bewildered him.  “What? Why are you making that face?”

“Those’re fine ‘n all, but I want something quieter,” she grumbled.

“So what, you just wanna hang out on the beach on the quiet side of the island or something?”  Her eyes lit up, and Raios once again came to the conclusion that there was no understanding his girlfriend.  He sighed in resignation.  “I guess that’s what we’ll be doing then.”  Mina clapped her hands and giggled in glee before once again latching onto his arm.  Raios didn’t even bother trying to get her off this time.  If someone saw them, then they saw them.  

It didn’t take long to arrive at Mina’s house, even with the awkward way she was hanging off him, and Raios stopped at the door.

“Alright, let go.  It’s time for you to go home.”  Mina grumbled under her breath and stubbornly clung to his sleeve.  “Come on, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“It’s too long…”

“It’s the day after tomorrow!” Raios snapped.

“I wish we could just skip to being married already,” Mina pouted, moving to grip the collar of his yukata.

“That’s gonna be a bit,” Raios replied, feeling a bit sheepish. “We’re not even old enough.”  Mina pouted, feeling disheartened when faced with the truth.  “Quit that. You’re being ridiculous.  At least consider for a moment the idea that you may be happier with someone else.”

“Not happening,” Mina growled at him.  “It’s definitely gotta be you.”  Then, Mina violently tugged on him pulling him downwards and caught him completely off guard.  The one Raios had given her had been soft and fleeting.  One of his many ways of gently telling her he loved her and appreciated her. The kiss Mina gave Raios was longer and firmer, and she didn’t even give him a chance to try and lead it.  When she finally let go of him, he covered his mouth with his arm and stumbled back, a violent blush covering his entire face and creeping down his neck.  Mina was almost sure she saw steam coming out of his ears too.

“YOU-!!”  Mina just flashed him a smug smile and stuck her tongue out at him.

“See you Monday~” Mina said, waving to him as she went inside, feeling like she’d set off a whole warehouse’s worth of fireworks.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 20

First

Previous

Next

~~~

The next day, she walked through the bad part of town (was there really a bad part of town in a place like this?). With the horse miraculous the whole ‘walking’ thing wasn’t quite necessary, but she was waiting for something.

She checked her reflection in a mirror and made sure that her earpiece was completely invisible and continued on.

People avoided her like the plague. If you were wearing a costume you were either a rogue or a vigilante. In this part of town they were both equally bad. The best option was to avoid them and hope you don’t find out.

So, when she saw people approaching her, her brain shorted out a little bit. They were all obviously affiliated with each other. They were wearing the same suits, even had the same general build. Did their boss get mad at them? At her? Did they have some sort of grudge?

Then she saw the needle in the closest’s hand.

She made a squeaking noise in the back of her throat and turned on her heel. To her horror, she saw more people in those same suits. Great. Brilliant, even. They’d surrounded her and were blocking her only two exits.

She could use a portal, sure, but she didn’t want everyone to know her powers. The less people knew about her new persona the better.

“Feeellas,” she said awkwardly as they neared her, hands up in surrender. “Listen, listen, you rea -- eeee!”

She had been cut off when one lunged for her. She backed up as quickly as she could, eyes locked on the needle in his hand, only to feel a hand clamp around her shoulder.

Her head whipped around and the man gave an apologetic smile as he held up a syringe.

“Ah, bon,” she hissed.

She didn’t register a gradual drop of consciousness, didn’t even feel the needle puncture her skin. One second she was struggling to get out of the man’s grip, the next she was tied in a chair, a bag over her head.

She could hear people screaming in her ear but it all came out as fuzz.

“Quoi?” She murmured to herself.

The bag was whipped off her head at the sound and she blinked a few times as she tried her hardest to understand what was going on through all the fog.

She was in a warehouse of some sort, that much was obvious from the high ceilings and boxes. For some reason, though, only one light was on; the one right above her shone brightly, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of her.

Her brain cleared when she felt the cold barrel of a gun touch the back of her head. Her pupils dilated in fear. Even if it wouldn’t kill her, a shot to the head would definitely leave her incapacitated for the next few days.

A person stepped into her vision.

She looked up at the face of Harley Quinn and gave a weak smile. “Hey, miss, if you wanted to thank me this wasn’t at all necessary.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Thanks for your help, darlin’, but that’s not what you’re here for.”

“Then why?” She asked, trying to subtly tip her head back and see who had a gun to her head.

She heard the safety click and froze. She slowly trained her gaze back on the woman in front of her, but she never heard the safety turn back on.

The intention was clear: one more chance.

The smile that stretched across the woman’s face was so calculated and cold that she felt a shiver run through her. “I just have a few questions for you.”

She looked up at the woman in front of her and knew instantly that lying would be a fatal mistake. While she definitely gave off the impression of someone who had a few screws loose, her eyes were far too sharp for that to be completely true. At the very least, she’d been a very smart person before she had gone off the deep end. There was nothing saying that she didn’t keep those smarts when she’d changed.

So, no lies. This should be fun.

She swallowed thickly. “Of course.”

“One: why did you help me?”

“I was in the area, I saw you fighting Robin, I wanted to help you out.”

“Okay, that’s how, but why?”

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “You’re pretty high up in the crime world, I thought it would be a good idea to get on your good side.”

Harley raised her eyebrows. She must not have detected a lie, because in all technicality there wasn’t one, so she moved on: “Two: how do you know Robin?”

She blinked a few times.

“He went easy on you at first, it’s not normal for him.”

She gave a small shrug. “We’d met before. Didn’t go great on either of our ends but definitely not for me.”

Harley nodded. “Three: why can’t I take off your mask?”

Oh, thank kwami. Something she could answer having to think of a lie. “Miraculi don’t let you take them off without a fight. Especially this one, because it doubles as a mask.”

“Miraculi?” The woman’s cold smile dropped slightly in her confusion.

Great. She’d been wrong. Apparently they weren’t all that well-known in America. She could have hidden that information by just saying it was a part of her powers. Still, she couldn’t start lying now, so she just said: “It’s a France thing, apparently. It just grants me my powers.”

“And how do those powers work?”

She gave a small shrug. “I can open portals anywhere I can see or visualize perfectly. Like, I can make a portal across the room and send another to my house, but I can’t make one ‘just outside’ because I don’t know where I am.”

Harley nodded slowly. “Last question: why are you on this side?”

The girl closed her eyes to think, then looked up at the woman. “Necessity,” she said simply.

She looked at the person behind Marinette and tipped her head to the side. “She wasn’t lying.”

“She’s still hiding things,” said a man’s voice.

“She’d be stupid not to.”

There was a long silence and Marinette’s forehead beaded with sweat.

The safety clicked and the gun left her skin. She breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in her chair as much as her restraints allowed.

Harley smiled. “Have you already had your debut? You said you had already fought Robin once before...”

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “I’ve not really done anything outside of fight him while like this. I kind of wanted to do some sort of major thing to debut.”

“Weeeell,” she began.

The man behind her sighed. “Harley. Don’t.”

“Whaaat? I like her,” she pouted.

The man groaned.

The woman grinned and leaned down to be at eye level. “Listen, darlin’, we’re planning to crash the Wayne Gala. You want in?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. The Wayne Gala? She cursed in French. She was lucky she hadn’t yet made prototypes for the outfits, because she was going to have to rework them to make running easier.

“Um... don’t speak French, darlin’.”

“Oh. I was just saying that sounds fun! Can’t wait!” (It was true, the context had just been much different.)

The woman walked around her. “Great! Let me just untie you...”

“No need.” She winked and opened a portal under herself and went crashing to the ground a few feet away. The chair broke under her from the force and she grinned as she pushed the splinters away from herself.

“Are you okay?” Came Batman’s voice in her ear, and Harley unknowingly echoed him.

“Yeah, these suits are pretty durable,” she answered both, then looked up at her captors. Whoever the guy was, he wasn’t the Joker. Still, he had the very distinct look of a villain. She frowned slightly as she tried to place his face, then shrugged to herself. She’d describe him to the bats later.

She stood and picked up the rope holding her, then pouted at the pair. “You used my own weapon to tie me?”

“Sorry, darlin’,” said Harley, not sounding at all sorry. “It was what we had on hand.”

She reattached her lasso to her waist. “Alright. I’m gonna head out. Next time, if you want to contact me, could you just send a guy to tell me so?”

Harley grinned. “No promises.”

She sighed and shook her head slightly, then opened a portal back to the grocers rooftop. She sent a tiny wink before slipping through.

~~~

You know I got five plants at the beginning of this and named each of them after a different Wayne, then I said ‘hey, whichever one(s) is/are dead by the end of three weeks will die in the fic’ and all of them are still alive. The plants have spoken

~

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