#some little things that don’t mean nothin but also make me laugh! haha! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

space-mermaid-writing · 3 years

Text

House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #House Arrest #Chapter 1 #my writing #Clint #clint barton #hawkeye #loki laufeyson #imagine #chef reader #mcu #marvel

91 notes · View notes

idontknowwhattodoherelmfao · 3 years

Text

Deja Vu

Bakugo x fem!Black!reader

Word count; 9.06k

Character count; 40.93k

Genre: Smut

Warnings; AGED UP AU! Everyone is in their 3rd . NSFW, oral (Bakugo receiving), choking, hair-pulling, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (Don't worry, you're on the pill), aftercare, swearing, light degradation.

A/n; Hello, welcome to my first FINISHED fanfiction. I have a LOT of WIPs saved but I actually finished this one a while ago. I have been really insecure about my writing but after sharing me of it with my sister and my friend, they convinced me to at least try and share it with the people of tumblr. Also, I deeply apologize for any mistakes because most of my fanfiction is written really late at night when i simply cant sleep or a good idea pops in my head so I can barely see my keyboard and my brain is fuzzy. Well, I hope you enjoy and I encourage you to request suggest anything such as headcanons, scenarios or just anything really. Again I hope you enjoy babes.

You. step inside your classroom, ready to start your journey of being a hero. Yet, you're imediantly struck by chaos. "That is extremely disrespectful Bakugo!" "Shut up, you damn extra! Not this again!" "Woah! I'm getting serious deja vu! It's like 1st year all over again!" You just stare in silence. No one pays attention to you until one person looks at you, then another. Soon, everyone is staring at you. "It's chaotic in here, huh?" You chuckle nervously. "Yeah, but it's mostly this guy's fault." A yellow-haired boy points to someone sitting weirdly. "Yeah right! Shut up!" The ash-blonde-haired boy yells. After, his crimson eyes stare at you, piercing your soul. "Well, lookin' forward to this year." You laugh. A cotton-candy girl comes up to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. "Yep! A lot of stuff happens, but it's really fun nonetheless!" She exlaims enthusiastically. "So, you're the new kid?" She points for your answer. "I'm (Y/n)! I look forward to this year with you." You wave to everyone. Suddenly, your smile falls and your face goes dead-serious. Everyone's expression melts into concern and nervousness. "Now, everyone tell me your names from seating order, from the back left corner to the front right corner!" You command. Surprisingly, everyone obey's, telling you their name. Well, except for 1 person. "I don't have to tell you shit." The same ash-blonde boy states. "I'm surprised everyone else did tell me. Haha! I was totally playing!" You laugh. You walk over to the boy. "Hey, you got spunk. What is your name?" You ask. Crimson eyes soften a little at the surprise, but they quickly turn cold again. "What are you, deaf? I said, I'm not speaking, extra." He huffs. A spiky red-haired boy puts a hand on your back. "He's Bakugo Katsuki. Don't mind him, he's a little hot-headed." He chuckles nervously. "Don't speak for me!" Bakugo yells. "I gotta say, your mom must be psycic or something. Your name totally matches your personality." You scoff. "You just got here. Enlighten me, what do you think my personality is?" He grins smugly. You scoff again, matching his grin. "Well, when you act like that, it's easy to tell, so don't get cocky. You're obviously really strong, which is why you have the right to brag and show off and all of that." You explain. "Are you insulting him or praising him?" Denki says. "Why can't it be both? Praise and respect for being like this, but at the same time, damn bro." you sit down in the nearest chair, which conveniently is your assigned seat. He scoffs and looks away. "What do you know." He mumbles. You cup your face in your hand to look at him. "Aw, don't get grumpy. I'll feel bad." You fake-whine. "I'm not grumpy! And even if I was, if that were to be enough to make you feel bad, maybe you shouldn't be a hero!" He yells. "Hm. You do know that I was joking right? Well, for the most part anyways. I would feel bad, but if this was a real life situation, trust me. I wouldn't feel nearly bad enough to disobey something for you. So don't worry, ya got nothin' to worry about." You pull your bottom eyelid down teasingly. "Shut the hell up." He grumbles. You comply, as the homeroom teacher comes into the class. You cross your legs into the chair, and you see Iida eyeing you from across the room. His eyes shift to beside you, where you see Bakugo doing the exact same thing. His eyes dart to you, as you quickly undo your feet and rest your head on your chair and let out a heavy sigh. "You do that too?" You look at him. "Copycat." He mutters. "Am not. I always sit like this." You whisper-yell. "Yeah right. You tryna be some kinda wannabe rebel or something?" He chuckles. "Rebel? Now, you just pulled that out your ass, didn't ya?" You ask. "No. You're clearly tryna be disrespectful. It's not a good look for you." He smirks. "Doin' this is disrespectful? Since when? It's always been cute to me." You huff. "Are you forein or something, or are you just a dumbass?" He turns his head to you. "Not exactly foreign, but I spent a generous amount of my life in America. I did this all the time there,

it's not counted as disrespectful, in fact people find it rather cute, so what's your excuse?" You put your hand down. He looks away from you. "Thought so, wannabe rebel." You chuckle. The rest of class is normal, and soon enough, the school lunch bell rings. "Hey, mr teach?" You raise your hand while everyone leaves. Well, except for Bakugo, Mina, Kirishima, and Denki because they were being disrespectful and talking during the lesson. You were wondering why Bakugo was caught and not you. For punishment, the disrespectful students had to pack up chairs and sweep the classroom. "Yes, (L/n)?" The teacher responds. "In a normal highschool, we're allowed to leave campus during lunch. Does that apply here?" You ask, looking around. "Yes, you're allowed to leave at any time as long as you fill out a leave campus paper. They're in the teacher's lounge." He points to the door "Go left, at the first turn, turn left, and 3rd door on your right." he explains. "I don't know if i'm leaving, I was just askin'." You say. "Hm, I dunno. Hm." You put a finger to your chin in thoght. "Hey! I'm heling you guys now!" You point to Bakugo, Mina, Denki, and Kirishima. They all give you s confused look. "What? Why would you wanna do this?" Kirishima asks. "Maybe she's a bit weird in the head. Hehe, our first crazy person. Just the icing on the cake, huh?" Denki jokes. "I'm not crazy, just bored." You pick up a broom. "Yeah, I think she's a bit crazy." Mina whispers. "Heard that." You roll your eyes. "Why're you bein' so quiet, wannabe rebel?" You cock an eyebrow. "Don't call me that!" He yells while raising his fist. "You called me that first." you scoff. "Exactly my point. Who calls someone something they called them first?" He says. "Hm, maybe I can be a trendsetter." You give him a smug smile before sweeping some of the dirt on the floor. Suddenly, Bakugo starts yelling. "You idiots! You're doing this all wrong!" He screams. He points to Denki. "Where the hell are you sweeping, the wall!?" He points to Kirishima "Stop staring into space!" He points to Mina. "And you're not doing anything! When was this a time for music!?" Mina was drumming her hands on a desk while humming. He pointed to you. "And you're-" He stops midsentence. You lean on your broom. "Go on, what am I doing?" Your face looks serious, but he can tell you're fighting your smile. The corners of your mouth twitch as his cheeks turn a very subtle pink, but you picked it up. "Mhm. too bad for you, I don't get caught lacking." You say sing-songy. "Y'know, if you're so serious about cleaning this place, why don't you do it?" Denki suggests. "Well, you're all punished, so I don't think ya'll can just leave." You laugh. "Maybe we can if someone takes over our spots. Ah? Ah?" Denki nudges your shoulder. "Maybe you're right.." Denki's eyes light up, and everyone looks to you. "It would be faster if you were gone, pea-brain." You sneer. "I mean, I'm happy you'd let me leave, but c'mon! Pea-brain?" You laugh, along with Mina and Kirishima. "How mean!" Kirishima says through fighting snickers. "Haha! It's totally true though!" Mina, on the other hand is guffawing and holding her sides. "Your grades are jsut as bad!" Bakugo yells. "Dang, am I just surrounded by idiots? Studying isn't really that hard." You shrug. "Oh please! How good are your grade!?" She points and huffs. "Me? Eh, not half bad if I do say so myself. Usually above average, but math and history is always a struggle. But at least I can manage to have an A average." You shrug. "A...average!?" Mina dramatically throws herself back. "Yeah. If you guys put some sort of effort into your grades, you'd be the same way." You explain. "Shut up, we need to get this done and over with, you trying to keep us here all day and night!?" Bakugo yells. "My thoughts exactly. Great minds think alike I guess." you roll your eyes and begin sweeping again, glaring at Denki and taking his broom. "Hey!" He says, at your snatch. "Honestly, at this point you're just stalling." "Do something useful for once." Bakugo adds. "Jeez, when did you

become so mean?" He walks away. "I became mean when someone pissed me off." You reply. "What did I do?" He raises his voice a little. "Not much, I don't even really know why I'm kinda pissed at you. Maybe it's your piss hair." Mina points and laughs again. "Everyone here is mean to me." He whines. "Let's hurry up and get this oevr with, I'm getting bored again." you start sweeping a bit faster. "If you're bored, why dont you just leave? No one's stopping you." Bakugo says. "Eh, I dunno, just don't wanna leave I guess." You shrug. "You'd really just rather just stay here and clean? You're pretty weird.." Mina groans. "Hey, you're witnessing a rare sight. I don't really get bored often." You chuckle, and sweep the dust and dirt into Bakugo's pile. "You've been silent, wannabe rebel." You tilt your head in front of his face. "I said stop calling me that, dumbass. You must be deaf." He says. "You got all this talk but you're not doing anything. Try insuliting me when you prove you can do something better than me." You spin around and continue sweeping. Mina and Kirishima are silent for a few minutes. "Hey, me and Kirishima are done, we're gonna dip." Mina finally speaks. Kirishima nods. "Ugh, can I go? (Y/n)'s not letting me do anything!" Denki groans. "Because you do it wrong." You explain. "Yeah, we're gonna head to the cafeteria before they're out of Onigiri!" Mina exclaims. "Hope we're not too late." Kirishima rubs his stomache. "Haha! Good luck with being stukck with Bakugo (Y/n)!" Denki waves his hand and they all run out the room. "God, what did thet even do? Wiped an already clean table?" You scoff, sweeping some more while spinning a little. "Why are you here?" Bakugo questions. "And you're gonna call me deaf? I said because I was bored." You laugh, the noise echoing throughout the classroom. "Now, hurry up, I wanna get out of here." You continue sweeping again, but he stands still. "What now? You forget how to sweep? Here, like this." You slowly sweep, while laughing to yourself again. "Shut the hell up. If you wanna get out of here, why don't you? You like me or something?" He gives you the slyest grin as you growl. "No one else here likes you, why should I?" You copy his grin. "We've all been together since first year, you just got here. What do you know?" His grin fades as he sweeps. "Hey, what's your quirk?" You ask. "Huh? What the hell for?" He yells. "I wanna spar with you!" You beam. "Yeah, OkAy." He says sarcastically as he scoffs. "Tell me your quirk first." He says while sweeping. "Hm." You ponder. "Do you not know what your quirk's name is or something?" Bakugo looks at you, and stops sweeping. "No. My quirk is enhancement. I was just thinking if I should tell you or not." You respond, sweeping yourself. "Enhancement" Bakugo wonders." "Yeah, you know, I can make something or someone really strong, blah blah blah. What's yours?" You ask. "Explosion." He grumbles. "Explosion? Now we gotta spar! I know you're strong, so c'mon!" You say, putting the broom down. "..Fine, but pick your broom up! We're not sparring here, and in case you didn't know, I'm still punished." Bakugo grumbles. "Fine, let's hurry this up then. I don't know how much time of lunch is there." You look at the clock. "Usually, there's about a 50 minute lunch break, we've been out for about 20 or maybe 25. 30 at most." You do the math in your head. "You could have just took the time lunch ends and subtracted it by the amount of time you've been wasting here, extra." Bakugo grumbles. "Well, even if it was 30, we'd still have 20 minutes to spar! That's more than enough time for me to beat you!" You say. "I'll kill you." He grumbles, sweeping a bit faster. You join him, and the room is spotless in no time. "Hurry up!" Bakugo yells at you. "Don't yell at me!" You yell back, jogging after him. You end up at some clearing. Bakugo is stretching his arms and cracking his neck. "1, don't set any tree's on fire. 2.." He gives you a glare. "Hope you have another uniform packed." He smiles to wide his gums are showing. You are in shock a little, but

you smile too. "And same to you." You crack your knuckles. "Actually?" you stop. "What." bakugo stops himself as well. "This time, let's not use our quirks." you say. "Why? You scared that mine is better?" He laughs. "No no, nothing like that. It would be better to spar to better our physical skills first, then we can add quirks later." You say. "Alright, let's just get this over with." He rolls his neck. You both come at eachother at the same time, throwing punches, kicks, and blocking for what seems like forever. You see his hand start glowing, signaling he's about to make an explosion. Most likely to propel himelsef towards you, but still. You grab his wrist and hold it up. "Ah! I said no quirks and you agreed." you point to his hand, as the glow fades. Deku comes up to us, a bit shocked at the scene. "Uhm, lunch is over." He nervously says. Bakugo snatches his wrist back from you, and walks away, sucking his teeth. "This isn't over." He brushes past Deku, who immediantly turns back to you. "Hey, were you fighting?" The green-haired boy rushes over. "Yeah, we were." you shrug. "Are you hurt?" He asks. "Why aren't you asking Bakugo this stuff?" You ask. "He was bullying you, right? I can't believe you stepped up to him though-" Your erupting laughter interrupts him. "A-are you okay!?" He waves his hands. "Oh my god! You thought he was bullying me? I came up with the idea of sparring!" You gasp for air. "You were just sparring?" Deku asks for clarification. "Yeah, didn't you notice he wasn't using his quirk? Well, until the very end, but I stopped him." You catch your breath. "O-oh. i'm sorry I misunderstood." You slap him on the back. "It's all good, it's not your fault Bakugo just gives off that vibe! Welp! Time for class, right?" You begin marching towards the forest, Deku nodding and following suit. While you're walking to class, you replay the sparring match in your head. Your brain stops at one scene, when you grabbed his wrist. You didn't see it before, but now that it's replaying, you see his eyes in your small vision. They were softened, but hostile. You giggle at the thought, to which Deku notices. "What are you laughing about?" He asks. "Just how you thought Bakugo was bullying me." You run in front of him, hoping to catch up to Bakugo. "Hey, Bakugo!" You yell for him, he stops and turns around. "What?" He grumps. "When are we gonna spar next? You said it wasn't over." you explain. "After school, what'd you think I meant, dumbass." Bakugo says. "I thought you meant the same time tomarrow or something, don't get your panties in a bunch." You playfully push him. "Should we reschedule that sparring match to right now?" Bakugo growls. "I dunno, I feel up to another round. This time I'm gonna kick your ass." You smirk. "I'll win in a second. Because next time we spar, we're doing quirks and all." He scoffs. "Now now, didn't you hear the phrase the cockiness killed the cat?" You tease. "I'm not cocky, I just know I'm gonna win." He shrugs. "Mhm, I admire the confidence, but it's just gonna be hilarious when I beat you at this point." You snicker at the thought of his face. "Well, get that thought out of your head because it's not happening." Bakugo lightly smacks the back of your head. "Yes it is! But just because you think you're gonna win, don't try to go light on me!" You point at him. He swats your hand away. "Calm down, I wouldn't dream of it. What made you think I would?" He asks. "You seem like those type of people that would 'pkay with their food' when their prey is especially weak." You say. "Well, that's just inefficient. I'm pretty sure we're late, so hurry your ass up!" He yells as he walks faster. "I could use my quirk and we'd be there in a second." You suggest. "What's your stupid quirk gonna do?" He asks. "Enhancement. I could enhance our legs to make us walk or run faster. But, you'd probably crash into a wall at the sudden change of speed. But I could totally carry you!" You beam. "I'm not getting carried." He walks up the stairs. "Would you rather me drag you by the shirt?" You suggest

jokingly. "No, I'm walking myself. I don't need your help to walk to my damn classroom." He says. "Fine, then I will too. It'll look like i'm showing off if i use my quirk without you." You huff. "DO you see anyone here? No one gives a shit if your showing off." Bakugo says. "Well, I'm not budging, but let's hurry up." You say. "Don't tell me what to do!" He yells after you. When you enter class, surprisingly enough, the teacher's not there. "Lucky ducks! Where were you?" Mina says. "WEre you really sweeping all lunch?" Denki asks afterwards. "We w-" "Well anyways!" Mina interrupts. "I'm totally having a party at Yamomo's! I just need a theme or kind of party. Should it be a rave, or maybe a dance battle!" Mina beams. "How're you gonna throw a party if you don't know what it's gonna be?" You ask. "Well, I don't even know if I'm gonna have it at Yamomo's, but most likely, I will. Maybe I can find an abandoned warehouse instead!" She beams. "Maybe we could have some kind of boxing match like how (y/n) and Bakugo were sparring!" Ochako suggests. "No way, Bakugo would beat everyone in a heartbeat, so there'd be no surprise." Denki objects. "Why don't we have some sort of nightclub vibe?" You suggest. "That's perfect! A nightclub! Purple lights, a dj, it'll be PERFECT! You're a GENIUS (y/n)!" Mina swings her arms around you and squeals. "It just came to mind when I thought of a party." You explain. "Okay! I have everything under control! I'll text you the place and time! I'll set up everything!" Mina shreiks. "You sure you can set up a party by yourself?" Kirishima asks. "I got connections. Leave it to me!" She shows a thumbs up. "Hey (Y/n)! I never got your number. Wouldn't want you not coming." She gives you her phone and you type your number in. She texts you a thumbs up for comfirmation. "Okay class, settle down." The math teacher walks in. "Took him long enough" you mutter. The school day goes by easily, and before you know it, the end of the day bell is sounding. "Hey, Bakugo. Are we really gonna spar now? What if we get the text for Mina's party in the middle of it?" You ask. "Knowing her, it probably won't be till late, to 'set the mood'." He turns off his phone and shoves it in his pocket. "We got time." He walks in front of you down the stairs. "Well, okay. The dorms are this way, right?" You point to a nearvy building. "Yeah, but why're you going there?" Bakugo asks. "This is my chance to change into more comfortable clothes for better mobility. Also, my only spare uniform might not be able to fit me after the party." You joke. "You should take this oppertunity too." You suggest as you walk in. After you change, you walk back out, Bakugo's leaning on the side of the building. "Geez, what took you so long?" Bakugo groans. "You just change fast." You stick your tongue out. "And you did your hair?" He scoffs. "Yeah? You didn't?" You say sarcastically. "No winder you took so long, it's like you planned this outfit." He sucks his teeth. "Are you gonna stop staring at my clothes and fight me or what?" You crack your knuckles once more. "Quirks this time, remember?" Bakugo clarifies. "Hell yeah. Wanna time your loss?" You laugh. "Shut up." He grumbles. Suddenly, he's infront of you, his hand glowing. You block, and stumble back a little. "Geez, that was dirty!" You say. "All's fair in fighting and fighting." He chuckles. "Ugh." You groan, as you speed towards him, throwing an enhanced punch at his blocked face. The fight continues on forever, taking small water breaks and continuing. Bakugo is appalled at your raw strength, only helped with your enhancement quirk. You chug your water, noticing his mixed expression of shock, and exhaust. "What time is it?" You check your phone, the time being 10 o'clock. "Damn, we've been sparring for 5 hours? No wonder my muscles are so sore." You stretch your arms a little. Suddenly, yours and Bakugo's phones go off at the same time. "Seems like Mina's got the time and place. I didn't think she was gonna go through with it." You say. "Well, that's that extra for you." Bakugo shoves

his phone in his pocket. "The party is in 2 hours, and you take forever to change apparently so I suggest you get started now." He growls. "What about..? Fine." You give up. Mina and Momo arrive at your dorm. "OH. My. GOD!" Mina squeals. "What is it? And aren't you supposed to be at the party?" You ask. "I went shopping with Yamomo for...your dress~!" Mina says sing-songy. "She picked it out." Momo hands you the dress, covered in a bag. "Uh, you didn't have to do this." You scratch the back of your head. "You're the new kid, so we wanted to help you get ready!" Mina beams. "Go on, try it on! I think it'll look great on you now that I'm getting a good look of you." Momo says, a finger to her chin. "Fine. Come in, sorry it's a bit messy." You say, walking towards your bathroom. "Don't forget to take a shower, you smell sweaty!" Mina teases. "And how do you call this dirty? One outfit is on the floor?" Mina picks it up and puts it in the hamper. You feel like a completely new person in the shower, washing away your sweat, filth, and problems. You also wash your hair, remembering you forgot to do it last week. You get out and reveal the dress, your eyes widening at the red beauty. You try it on and look in the mirror. "Uhm," You call out to Mina and Momo. "Is this really what you're supposed to wear to a nightclub?" You ask, steppinf out of the bathroom. Mina and Momo gasp at your appearance in the dress. "Oh my god! Yes!" Mina rushes over, examinging you from every angle. "Is that the answer to my question? Aren't you supposed to dance at a nightclub?" You ask. "Yeah. You aren't just wearing the dress. Don't worry, you'll be able to dance the night away." Mina reassures you. "You sure? It's a bit tight." You tug at it around your thighs. "It's not tight, it's just...y'know, like a pencil skirt. it's just fitting." Mina explains. "I don't think pencil skirts are made for dancing." You laugh. "Well, I'm probably not gonna dance anyways. And if i did, I'm probably not gonna be breakdancing or anything, huh?" You chuckle. "That's the spirit." Mina gives you a thumbs up. "So, you said this wasn't the full outfit?" You sheepishly grin. "Yep! Don't worry, babe, just leave it to us." Mina smiles greatly and Momo gives a warm small smile. "Alright, but if you're gonna do my hair, be gentle." You tangle your fingers in your black sea of curls. "Don't worry, my head is sensitive too." She scratches her hair. Soon enough, you look like you had a full glow-up. Mina and Momo snapping pictures to put on their story, also taking photo's of eachother and themselves. "The party's at midnight, right?" You check your phone again. "Yeah, it's friday night so we don't have to worry about waking up early for school!" Mina says enthusiastically. "And since it's at one of my guest houses, we can even have a sleepover." Momo suggests. "C'mon, we wouldn't wanna be late." Mina says. "What are we even celebrating?" You ask. "Nothing. Sometimes, a party celebrating nothing is just what you need!" Mina says. "I...guess that makes sense..?" You laugh. You get in Momo's convertible, vibing as you pass the aux around. It feels like you've been in the car for such a short time, as you pull up to her guest house's driveway. You swear you can hear the music booming from where you were standing. You walk in, and are greeted with booming music, bright and dim lights, and decorations everywhere. "Tada!" Mina squeals. "How'd you do all this?" You gasp in awe. "I knew a guy." She says proudly. We hear another car pull up, and we greet the people coming one by one. "Wow, this party is amazing!" Kirishima looks around, getting lost in the crowd. At this point, people you didn't even know were arriving. You assumed Mina and Momo's friends, and people the other classmates invited. Bakugo comes in and eyes you up and down. "Hm, I thought you wouldn't be here for another hour, slowpoke." He smirks. "Maybe you should higher your expectations then." You flash him a fake-mean look as you both walk to a wall. "Ha, just 2 hours ago we were fighting behind the dorms, and

now we're at a party." You laugh at the randomness. "I am actually surprised you were here before me though." He says with a phony shocked expression. You shove him playfully. "Well, guess I have Mina and Momo to thank for beating you. Maybe I should dedicate my trophy to them." You teasingly ponder aloud. His expression changed to a mix of irritation and laughter. Mina suddenly drags you away, to dance with her in the middle of the floor. At first you were embarrassed, but once you were feeling the beat, you forgot all about the people eyeing you and cheering you on. You were having a total blast, singing and dancing to the busting music. She said she mixed hers and Jirous playlist together, and you compliment their taste in music, and you and Mina begin dancing together. You and Mina stop, panting and laughing as she compliments your dancing skills. "I'm gonna get a drink." You point to the food and bevarages table and she nods. You walk through the crowd, hearing some cheers and compliments towards you, even some whistles. You drink some water, and lean on the wall watching as Mina continues dancing with Ochaco. Suddenly, you feel a yank and you're dragged away, and into a room. You hear the door slam as you're met with your back on a wall. You grunt on impact. Everything happened in a blur, so when you can focus your eyes again, You look around for a split second, realizing you're in some kind of office. But, you're met with fires of red. "Why the hell are you wearing that?" A booming familiar voice rings through your eardrums. "Bakugo? What do you mean?" You say, stunned that the words actually came out of your mouth. "I'll repeat myself just this once; Why the hell are you wearing that?" He says. You're absolutely shocked. "Well, you didn't seem to have a problem with it when you first saw me with it!" You say. "Well, that was before you decided to give everyone here a fucking 'show'!" His grip gets a little tighter on your shoulders. What? What did he mean by show? You weren't even paying attention to yourself or anyone else while you were dancing, did you really..? "W-well, even if I did, what's that got to do with you?" You recollect yourself. His grip on your shoulders tighten even more, making you groan a little. "If you were gonna do that, why the hell would you wear this?" He looks you up and down again. "I don't even know what I did, and it's not like I plan my dance moves!" Your voice raises a little. "You don't even know what you just did in front of everyone?" He looks shocked, not even the sightest bit irritated anymore. His grip seems to loosen and tighten at the same time. You get a little anxious, as he comes a little closer. "What do you see in your head when I say the word 'show' in the same context I just did?" He says. You gulp as you imagine it. "Yep, you just did that, in front of the whole class, plus others. It's pretty rich that you didn't even realize it though." Bakugo chuckles a little, but it quickly fades. "T-that's impossible, my body..can't do that." You try to huff, but you're too nervous to do a solid one. "How humble." He loosens his grip and backs away, making you breath deeper. But suddenly, one of his hands grabs your right thigh as he brings it up to his waist, and snakes his other hand onto your back, right above your butt. You're now pinned on the wall. "But you and I both at least have some idea of what this body of yours is capable of." He growls, his face just whispers away from yours. You take another deep breath, but it's more of a gasp. You lean your head up onto the wall, taking a deep gulp. Bakugo watches as the little bubble trails down your throat. "Well, if you really don't know.." He licks his lips as he watches another bubble travel downwards. "Want to find out?" He catches the third bubble, licking it. You snap your head in surprise as he gives you a teasing smirk. His left arm snakes down further, grabbing your ass as his right moves your thigh higher. Your head is spiraling, and you open your mouth to speak, but you're interrupted by an intruder of the

mouth. You couldn't help the moan from escaping as he tastes you, licking his lips afterward. Your lidded eyes meet his, but they quickly move down to his mouth, and then to his eyes again. "I'm just glad you aren't wearing lip gloss or lipstick." He mumbles, before giving you another tongue kiss. You wrap your left leg around his waist, as his right knee bends to touch you. He can feel your folds clench at his touch, which forces the smallest gasp from you. "If you only did that show for me, I wouldn't be pissed at you." He furrows his brows at you. "Why?" You manage to say. "You're that dense, huh? Maybe words won't go through your brain." His right hand leaves your thigh, and grabs some of your hair behind your head. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your mouth, open from your decreshending breaths. "So maybe this will." He licks the opening of your mouth, his tongue sliding in before turning it into a kiss. His mouth leaves yours just barely, before both of your tongues stick out, crashing onto eachother like waves, as your lips connect once again. These kisses were different, more passionate, including the unique sound they made compared to the others. When your lips disconnect as a finale, he unwraps your leg from his waist and lets go of your butt. His lidded eyes give you a (Not a command, but not a wish either, I couldn't find a word for it lmao.) as he sits down in the nearest chair, his right hand now cupping his face as he waits for you. You get a little shaky, but you oblige, moving towards him. You lower to your knees as he watches your thighs get thicker from the press of your lower legs. You move towards him more, as your hands go onto his knees. You erotically slide your hands up his thighs, as if you really were giving him a show on his own. Two index fingers dance towards the center of his pants, where a mountain stands. Bakugo lightly groans as he feels his pants getting more confined. Your hands lightly struggle at the tight button, but you manage to quickly undo it. Bakugo's large dick springs up at attention, precum almost dripping. You lean over it, and a few hairs cloud your vision. You tuck them behind you ear as you notice Bakugo's facial expression, seemingly annoyed. You put him to your mouth as you rub his tip with your index finger. He nods with a small groan, and you give his dick a small lick. You lick all of the sides at least once before sliding his dick into your mouth. You flatten your tongue as you fit more of his cock into your mouth, spilling a louder groan from Bakugo. Alas, your curls kept moving. They didn't exactly pose a problem to you, but the thick fingers that carded through your hair said otherwise. You stop to look at him. "Just wanted a view." His smirk grows. You continued, but using your tongue as it swirls around his tip. Bakugo's large hand clenched a handful of your hair, forcing you to take his dick. You moan at the slight pain and force. You rise your head to his tip, before stopping. His facial expression changes to confusion, which you take as your cue. You swiftly take as much of his dick as you can, and hold your head there. The shock forces a loud erotic moan from Bakugo, followed by curses, and his thick cum flowing into your mouth and onto your face, satisfying you. Bakugo's covering his red face with his huge hand, panting along with you. "I...didn't expect that." Bakugo pants. "I...hah...said to...higher your expectations of me..didn't I?" You wipe your chin and lick your lips. "God, I should just face-fuck you right now." He exhales deeply, catching his breath. "Then why don't you?" You ask. "Because as much as I'd love to shove this cock down your little throat, I also want to make you feel good." He uses a finger to lift up your chin, and close your mouth. You both stand up, and Bakugo lightly pushes you onto a table and stands over you, both of his arms by your sides, pinning you there. "I bet while you were giving your show out there, all the guys- hell, maybe even some of the girls- wanted to rip this dress off of you." Bakugo chuckles to

himself. "You said that your body couldn't do a show like that. Remember what I said? If you didn't know, wanna find out?" He recaps, and you nod. "Well? What's your answer to that?" He asks genuinly. You chuckle. "You're really gonna wait until you got your dick wet to ask me that? Psh, and you called me dense." Your chuckle erupts to a laugh. Bakugo clenches your hair again. "Just answer the damn question." He growls. "Yeah, I wanna find out." You reply confidently. He gives you a slightly surprised and confused look, to which you answer by swiping 2 fingers along his member. He lightly grabs your neck, forcing your head down onto the desk. A noise you didn't know you had in you echoes throughout the room. Even Bakugo's shocked by it, and he's the one who forced it out. But he quickly catches on. "Ah, somebody's got a little kink, huh?" His hand grabs your hair again roughly, a similar moan coming out as he lifts your head up and moves his mouth towards your ear. "You like to be fucked niiice and rough, don't you?" The low rumble in his voice makes you shiver. "You like to be teased, even though you act like you don't, huh?" He sneaks a touch at your folds through your panties. You lightly moan at the sudden act as your head moves upwards and your thighs clench together, as Bakugo's hand barely escapes your thighs crashing together. "You like...the pain with the pleasure, don't you?" He bites your ear before licking and peppering kisses onto it. Your breaths grow heavier as your body heats up. He continues with the teasing, forcing your legs open, putting his knee between your legs and carressing your inner thigh, and pressing onto your clit as he nibbles on your ear some more. He slips off shoes, then your pantyhose, and then your panties as his teases get harsher. Suddenly, two thick fingers of his slip between your velvety folds. You moan as your walls try to fend off the intruder, as he steadily pumps his fingers into you with rhythm. "God, you're so tight." He groans, as his dick twitches. Your breaths are still heavy, but more apparent. "Oh, god, fuck." Your head is thrown back onto the desk. Bakugo's firey eyes burn into yours. "This feels nice, doesn't it?" He says. You let out a whiny "Mhm." To which Bakugo chuckles. "It feels nice, sure, but I want to make you feel good, no, amazing, the best you've ever felt." His slides turn into thrusts as his fingers quicken their pace. "F-fuck." You moan grows long. You couldn't help but roll your hips and grab one of your breasts, trying to rush your release. "Ke-hah-ep going." You're barely able to keep those words together. "Now, don't rush yourself. I was gonna be the one to make you feel good." He hits just below the spot you've been longing for, and you can feel yourself coming close, just a little bit more. If that wasn't enough, he curls the tips of his fingers to hit your sweet spot, right on the money, and he can tell too, noticing how your body quivers and your eyes closed tightly. Suddenly, his fingers exit your folds. You give him a confused look, panted breaths taking over your words. "Sorry princess, but when you cum, I'm gonna be inside you." You watch as Bakugo seperates his fingers, watching as your slick webs between them. "Didn't think you could be this wet." Bakugo chuckles. Suddenly, he puts the two fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off. When his fingers leave his mouth, a string of slick falls from his mouth as well. You swallow at the sight. He gets up and grasps your neck, forcing your head down again, making the same noise, but slightly more lewd from the teasing. "Haha, you slut." He chuckles while exhaling deeply. He runs his hands down your frame, admiring your curves. He pumps himself a few times, reminding himself of how you just treated his dick. He grabs your thigh, observing how your flesh molded into his hand. He's moves his hand, but you catch his wrist. "Wait." You say, sitting up. He backs away with a confused look, and you stand up from the table. You stretch your arms a bit, but you suddenly push him, your enhancing quirk

making it powerful enough to crash him onto a couch. "Wha-" He has no time to react as he watches you push him again to lay him parrallel to the couch. He wasn't expecting this, and he couldn't deny the facts, it made his dick that much harder. It twitched at your boldness. You straddle him, lining his cock to your throbbing and oversensitive pussy. "Being bold, huh (Y/n)?" His confused open mouth grew into a smirk. "Mhm. Watch just how bold I can be.." you moan as his tip enters you, taking a bit before you bottom yourself out, your pussy swallowing him whole. Long moans exit both of your mouths, as you put your arms behind your back to support yourself as you slowly roll your hips, giving Bakugo a good view of you gushing onto his dick. "Fuck, you're even wetter and tighter than before." Bakugo says through groans and gritted teeth. You laugh breathily as you roll your hips rhythymically, beign engulfed in ecstacy. Suddenly, Bakugo's hand grasps your neck as he forces you down onto the couch, him now towering over you, his cock twitching inside of you. "B-bakugo." You moan. "You really are bold. But you're doing the opposite of what I said you'd do. Remember?" His grip tightens onto your neck, as you nod profusely. "Also, drop the last name. It's Katsuki. Got that?" He chuckles. "Katsuki." You repeat, thinking it sounds familiar. He sucks his teeth. "You're begging with your eyes, you slut." He begins thrusting into you, lifting one of your thighs with his free hand to drill deeper. His thrusts grew quick and harder quickly as he pounds into you, a gasp or moan coming out of you with each individual thrust. His hand around your neck just added to the pain and pleasure you felt. "K-katsuki!" You have a shaky smile with tears in your eyes. "What's wrong-fuck- too rough?" He tries to hide his pleasure as well, but it's getting harder for him as his dick slides perfectly, your walls adjusted to him instantly, as if it was waiting for his cock only. "Damn, it's like you were -shit- made for me." Expletives interrupt his sentences as he stops trying to hide his pleasure as his hips meet yours. His smile is the widest you've ever seen, showing his gums. He moves your other thigh up, allowing him to go even deeper. "K-katsuki..fuck!" Your moans seem to get breathier and a bit more highpitched. "Don't worry, I know where to go." He assures you, as he flawlessly hits your sweet spot, just like with his magical fingers. "Yes! Right there, fuuuck~!" You put your hands on his arm as his grip gets even tighter onto your neck, and as he ruthelessly abuses that spot, rubbing on it fast. Your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head as his pace gets even quicker. "Keep going, Katsuki, so close, so fucking close just keep going!" Your fingers don't know what to do as you try to grip the couch, your hair, but they stay at his shoulders, your fingernails digging into his skin only makes him pound harder. "Go ahead, cum on this dick, (Y/n)." He grunts loudly, feeling himself become undone as well. "It's...too good." All you can see is white as you reach your high, your back arching, your eyes completely into the back of your head, and your insides being painted white. His long erotic moan matched yours, as you panted and came down from your peaks simultaniously. While you were seeing white, however, you were getting visions, memories of stuff you didn't remember. It was you and Katsuki, as children, playing together, him coming to your house with his mom when you were little, and you playing competitive sports outside as your moms talked. You remembered everything from when you were little, and started questioning how you could forget. You also saw something else, you going away, when you moved to America. When you said goodbye to Katsuki, and shared a hug, that no one else was gonna get. "K-katsuki.." you pant, giving him a nostalgic look. "So, you've remembered." He chuckles through panted breaths. "Took ya long enough." He says. "Huh?" You give a confused look. "I wouldn't have sex with someone I just met hours ago. And knowing

you, you wouldn't either." He moves from on top of you, sitting down next to you. It sparked a question in your mind. Why did you have sex with him, if you didn't remember him? Maybe it was your subconcious that knew him. You yawn, now completely down from your high. "I gotta say, it was fun getting to know you all over again and play along." Katsuki laughs. "And your quirk improved dramatically. Remember when we were little, when my explosions were really small, and you used to enhance my quirk to make explosions like I do now?" He recalls. "Yeah, I was probably the only one who you've ever complimented before." You lay your head on his lap. "Damn, you really spent me." You yawn as he takes his phone out, "Hell yeah I did." He sucks his teeth as he begins texting someone. "Who're you texting?" You say. "Just go to sleep, I'm texting Mina, the pink-haired chick you were twerking with in front of everyone." He says, his face going back to annoyed. "Geez man, I didn't know." You suck your teeth yourself. "Well, I got to fuck you, so I guess I can't stay mad." He shuts off his phone and pets your head. "We gotta get cleaned up, I'm not sleeping like this." He grumbles. "Sleep? Who said anything about that?" You tilt your head. "The way I did you tonight? Yeah, you're not gonna be able to go home." Bakugo laughs "What did you think I texted Mina about? I told her to send everyone home and that we're spending the night." He says. "Wouldn't you text Momo about-" You're interrupted by his phone chiming. He checks it and begins laughing. "Phaha! Guess what? We weren't the only ones fucking." He shows you his phone, and you see what he texted Mina first. "Why'd you just flat out tell her we had sex!?" You say, scrolling down to read he reply. "Psh, Todoroki and Momo? Even Deku and Ochaco?!" You laugh. "Yeah, I thought Deku would remain a virgin his whole life. Crazy, huh?" He chuckles. "Also, Mina been knew we woulda fucked. Look." He shows you another message. "Soooo tonights the night, huh😏? Use protection⛑️! Or don't, but no kids😤!" The message reads. You roll your eyes. "So everyone knew that we had history together but me, right?" You groan. "Pretty much." He laughs again. Suddenly, his phone chimes again. "OK, the guests r gone, all of the wasted temporary residents r all 🛀 ☝️ and 😴, ur turn. the 🛀 is nice and 🏃! i also brought a stretcher for (y/n) because i know she'll need it lmfaoo🚶" it reads. "Translation; the party people are gone, everyone else who fucked is washed up and asleep, so we can take our time." Bakugo sighs. "That extra does the damn most." He facepalms. "Wow, how reliable. But shouldn't we be asking Momo for permission to sleep here?" You ask, and your answer comes with another chime of his phone, the new message reading "i already asked and yamomo understood completely so the house is all urs 4 2nite. yw i know im the best😌" "Geez, she couldn't stand to use grammar every once in a while?" You laugh and roll your eyes. "C'mon." He stands up. You move to get up, but he ends up picking you up. "Wha-? Hey! Put me down!" You lightly hit his back. "Don't bother, you can't walk." He says. "Who says?" you grunt. "Fine, try." He puts you down on your feet gently, but you immediantly crash dwon onto your butt, which is also feeing sore from his tight ass-grabbing. He chuckles. "How come it took me to try standing up for my legs to start feeling sore?" You groan. "Told ya. It's not my fault you like it rough." He teases as he picks you up and slings you over his shoulder. This time you don't fight, just making a pouty face and groaning from embarrassment and your sore legs. You lock eye contact as Mina patrols the main area. She uses body language to tell you she heard almost everything, and you shoot her a dirty look as she laughs and continues patrolling. You're surprised with a bath that's ready for you, courtesy of Mina. Maybe you can't stay too mad. He takes off your clothes and sets you in the bath, as you relax and rest your head on the could outer ring. Bakugo's eyes dart to your neck, dark

markings telling exactly where his hends went. It was like your own litte version of a hickey, which put a smile on his face. "Who knew you had a choking kink? that was a real surprise to me." He smiles meanly as you hide your face in embarrassment. "I didn't know." You groan in sheer embarrassment. "Relax, I won't be choking you gain anytime soon." He gumbles in slight annoyance. "But what if a villain does?" You ask. "Shit, I forgot about that. Haha! Just imagine that villains stupid face when you let out a moan because of him choking you." He chuckles. "Wouldn't you get jealous? Another man, maybe a woman, choking me?" You turn to face him. "Well, it's my job to beat their ass regardless so they're gonna end up dead anyways. 1, for being a villain, and 2, for putting their hands on my girl." He explains. You didn't need his hand, you almost choked on the word girl. "Yeah, I said it." He pours some shampoo in his hand, lathering them together and scrubbing your hair. "You gonna deny it?" He grumbles. "No, just didn't think you'd say it first." You admit. "Well, surprise surprise, I'm not the same kid I was back then." He sucks his teeth. "You kinda are. You always sucked your teeth like that and you have the samer personality if we're speaking vaguely." You explain. "Well, I changed a lot, idiot. What do you know?" He massages your head with his yet again, magical fingers. "I know that the only reason you're not yelling is because you're thinking of everyone sleeping. Funny, you weren't when you got a taste of me." You say matter-of-factly. "You always were a smartass. I don't even know why I ever liked you." He grumbles. "Yeah, that's probably gonna stay a mystery. I don't know why I like you either, you were always an annoyingly smart guy for yourself." You grumble as he rinses your hair and you wash yourself. Bakugo briefly leaves and comes back with an oversized t-shirt and underwear. You change into them while sitting on the toilet seat, and Bakugo's eyes widen a little as he comes to a realization. "Hey, that's my shirt! The bitch stole my shirt! How the hell'd she even get into my dorm!?" Bakugo yells. "I have my ways!" You can hear Mina call out to him. "God, she's lucky I'm tired." He groans as he scratches the back of his head. "And she's lucky that you look good in it." He smirks as he looks you up and down seductively. "What, round 2?" You ask. "No, I put all my energy into round 1." He sighs. "Good, so did I." You let out a big exhale. "Now your turn." You signal him to get in. "I'll wash myself, you're obviously in no condition to." Bakugo says. "I can." You huff. "Please, you'd have to crawl to get over here." He rolls his eyes. Your eyes drift to the sink as you see your favorite scent of lotion. You look to your knees, they were beginning to get ashy, so you grabbed the bottle and began applying it to your skin. Bakugo's watches as you massage your legs, like they weren't on fire now. He observed as your hands moved up and down your legs almost as a signal, and he actually started considering a round 2. He shook the thoughts out of his head as he washed himself quickly, and got out himself and changed. After brushing your teeth with the spare toothbrushes-Geez, Mina and Momo really thought of EVERYTHING, huh?- Bakugo carried you to your-of course she would- shared room. It wasn't until he was laying next to you, settling into bed, when the smell of your lotion hit him. Like a million bricks. He recognized it quickly, his favorite smell in the whole world. "Mmm." He hums as he brings you closer to him. "Is this..?" He asks. "It was just there. I know you like it," you said, teasing his nose with the smell. "Apple Spice." You say in unison. He hugs you, putting his nose in your shoulder as he inhales the smell deeply. "God, I haven't smelt this in so long. you used to wear it all the time when we were little." He sighs. "When I moved, I never stopped." You hug him back, snuggling into his chest. His breathing slowed, and you could tell he was about to fall asleep."(Y/n)...?" He sleepily says. His words

are slurred, and his eyes are closed. "Mm?" You hum, getting sleepy yourself. "I love you." He says, pulling you closer to him. The softest 'I love you' you've ever heard in your damn life. "I love you too." you replied softly. You thought that'd be the end, but Bakugo kept repeating it. "I love you so much, so fucking much, I love you." His repeats grew softer, as you repeated him the same amount of time he repeats himself. "So fucking much." are his last words before his breathing slows and silence follows you sigh of relief. "Finally, thought he'd never shut up." you laugh in your head, as you follow suit, saying a final 'I love you' be before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

Fin

#BlackinBNHA #Bakugo x reader #Bakugo x black reader #Bakugoxreader smut #Smut #SoftBakugo #Soft Bakugo

53 notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 4 years

Text

off the grid | one

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 3384

chapter warnings: cussing / mature language, slight flirting, nothin’ too cray

notes: as mentioned on ‘perfectly wrong,’ i tend to write short chapters, but that means there will be quite a few chapters ahead.

> series masterlist <

The jetlag must have hit you bad because the sun is shining in brightly through the windows and it's about to be 1PM.

"Aw, fuck." You say to yourself as you sit up and rub your face to wake yourself up. You feel like you've been hit by a truck, but there was no way you were going to spend your day sleeping and getting yourself on track. Time is of the essence.

You head downstairs to the bathroom to wash up and start getting yourself ready for today. The TV is on a random channel while you toast yourself some bread to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You didn't feel too hungry, solely because you were more excited to get out there and try the local food.

As you finish up your sandwich, you start to make your way back upstairs to get into your outfit, but you suddenly stop when you hear a voice outside in the hallway. At first, it didn't cause any alarm because it sounded distant enough to make you think it wasn't coming towards your way. However, that quickly changes when the voice is right outside the door and is clear as day.

"Yo, Yana! Open up!" The knocks came suddenly on the door. You hesitated, wondering if Yana had also just left without giving anyone a heads up because who in the hell was this man pounding on her door at this time? The day barely started for you. "Yana! Come on! Quit playing around before I knock this door down myself!" You definitely didn't want that, so you cross your arms tightly near your chest as you walk to the door. You reach for the door handle to swing it open, revealing a somewhat flustered male standing in front of you with a huge tupperware of food in his hands.

"Uh, hi? Can I help you?"

"You're not.. Yana?" His eyebrows furrowed. He welcomes himself in, almost causing you to trip over yourself as you move aside, checking the bathroom and quickly glancing up and around the loft.

"Last time I checked, I sure wasn't." You shut the door and cross your arms tightly as you watch him stand there. You couldn't help but notice how attractive he was - standing at a good 5'9-5'10, fair skin, grey, ash-blonde hair that was parted down the middle, with some layers falling around the front of his face. His lips were pink and plump, and you couldn't help but gaze at his beautiful eyes, which for sure had grey tinted lenses in at the moment. You could see his resemblance to Yana. He seemed way too unreal though, in a good way. You quickly checked your appearance in the mirror through the bathroom, making sure your hair wasn't a mess or that you weren't a mess in general. But lo and behold, you were still in your Hello Kitty pajama shirt and shorts.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like that. I'm Yana's brother, Jimin. Park Jimin." He softly smiles at you and shows off his pearly whites, his hand on the nape of his neck as he quickly checks you out from head to toe. "Nice jammies."

"Well, I wasn't necessarily expecting an intrusion at this time." You wrap your arms around your chest to cover up Hello Kitty as much as you can.

"Right, sorry. She wasn't answering my calls or texts so I came over here to check on her, plus my mom asked me to bring this over. Any idea where she might be since you're apparently occupying her space now?"

"She didn't tell you anything?" His right eyebrow raises.

"No? Care to fill me in?"

"She put her loft up on a home exchange website, so we decided to swap homes for a bit. She's down at my apartment in California right n-"

"California? Since when? How long is she going to be there for?" He laughed a bit. "You're talking about my sister Yana, right? She doesn't go anywhere. She barely even leaves her house."

"I'm pretty sure we're talking about the same Yana." You pursed your lips into a fine line before chiming in again. "I just got here yesterday afternoon, so I'm sure she's still getting herself situated. We're switching back after Christmas."

"Why didn't she say anything?" You can tell the question wasn't necessarily directed towards you and moreso just Jimin thinking out loud, but you respond anyway. He has such a soft demeanor that you don't feel threatened by him being around you at all, even if this whole thing was accidental.

"I don't.. know? I'm really sorry, I don't know what to tell you." You shrugged. You felt bad Yana's own brother was out of the loop, but you get it. You were in the same spot as she was. You just had to do what you had to do without anyone holding you back sometimes.

"Nah, no worries. I'll get a hold of her somehow." He shakes his head and makes his way to the kitchen. He places the tupperware he has in his hands in the fridge, then toothlessly smiles back at you as it closes. "Since you're here, help yourself to my mom's food."

"Mm, are you sure? I mean I don't want to-"

He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. "Seriously, Yana isn't here to eat it and it shouldn't go to waste."

"Why don't you eat it?"

"Because I have my own at home." He smiled. "You're not going to get out of this one, you know?"

"Thank you. Or, um, thanks to your mom." You rub your arm as you chuckle nervously while following him to the door. The fuck Y/N, don't start acting up around him now.

"Sorry about that again." He turns to smile at you again, hands now deep in his pockets. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Y/N."

"Nice to meet you." Jimin nods and chuckles. "I promise I don't just barge into people's homes like that."

"Mhm, your sister must think you're a handful."

"If anything, she's the handful, clearly." He cocks his head to the side. "California, huh?"

"The golden state." You shrug and chuckle. Really, Y/N? The golden state?

"I bet." Is all he says before he starts to back away from the door. "Well, I don't want to take more time out of your day. You must have some plans to get through. Thanks again, Y/N."

"Yeah, no problem." You watch as he walks down the hallway. As he descends down the steps, you gently shut the door and walk upstairs to finish getting ready so you can finally start your first adventure. To where? You don't know and that's a-okay.

[Y/N] 1:56pm: Hey Yana, I hope you're settled in! Your brother came here to drop off some food and to check on you. I may have told him you were in California, but I didn't say anything else after that. I'm sorry :( Hopefully that doesn't cause issues. Let me know if you need anything.

[Yana] 2:05pm: Hey! Haha no worries, I'm struggling a little with the sleep schedule but I'll be fine. Thanks for letting me know! Was he mad?

[Y/N] 2:07pm: No, he just couldn't believe you were out there since he claims you don't leave the house often. Haha.

[Yana] 2:08pm: Wow, he said that? Very Jimin like. He's 25 years old going on 80 so he shouldn't be one to talk. Agh, can't live with him, can't live without him. I'll deal with it. Hope my little brother didn't bother you too much after that! Many apologies if he did!

From what you gather, Yana is super sweet and you can tell she has a close relationship with her brother. You were quite surprised Jimin was her little brother, simply due his slightly overprotective nature and how he threatened to break down the door. Nonetheless, Jimin seemed to be concerned for his sister's wellbeing and you could tell he was sad when he realized she wasn't going to be around for awhile. You truly hope you didn't mess anything up or cause any issues for her plans though. It reminds you of your own friends and how you'll probably get the same earful in the next couple of hours. Until then though, you stick to the plan and tuck your phone deep into your bag before navigating the nearby streets to do some exploring.

Meanwhile, Jimin tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter as he enters the apartment he shares with his two bestfriends.

"You find her?" Taehyung sits on the couch with one foot up. He's holding a cup of tea in his hand while watching a movie on TV.

"Yana?"

"I'm sorry, were you looking for someone else besides your sister?" Taehyung asks sarcastically, which Jimin ignores.

"No, but I met Y/N." Jimin flatly responds as he plops onto the couch next to him and pulls up Yana's number to get a hold of her.

"Who is Y/N?"

"She's living at Yana's."

"Wait, what? She has a roommate now?" Taehyung looked at him, completely and utterly confused with this whole conversation.

"Nope. My sister is apparently in California cause she swapped homes with her."

"That's a thing?"

"I guess so." Taehyung watches as Jimin puts the phone to his ear.

"Yana, what the hell?" Jimin says into the phone as he stands up and walks towards his room.

"Calm down, fool. Why did you barge into my place like that? Perfect impression to give Y/N while she's still settling down."

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to California for the holidays?" He ran his hand through his hair. As guessed, he indeed had a very close relationship to his sister. Knowing she wouldn't be around for Christmas made him a pretty sad. He knew Yana had been wanting to get away for a bit, especially with the personal things she had going on, but he had wished she talked to him about what was going on first. He wanted to help in any way that he could.

"Because I knew if I did, you'd try and stop me."

"N-no!" He stuttered. "No, I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would've. Or, you would have tried to come with."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Chim, I just really want my own time in a new setting, away from everything that's familiar. Just for a bit." Jimin sighed. He wasn't going to argue.

"Alright, I get it. Please just stay safe out there, okay?"

"Yeah, I will. I'm surprised you haven't ran to mom yet." He chuckled.

"Jeez, is that what you think of me? A tattle-tale?"

"Mm, sometimes." She laughed. "You can be quite the baby."

"Hey, woah! This wasn't supposed to be about me." He grabbed his chest, feeling a little attacked by his sister. "Look, I'm not gonna say anything but eventually she's gonna notice. You know her."

"Then let her, I'll deal with it then."

"Alright, go for it." Jimin threw his hand up in defeat like Yana can see him somehow. Mom wasn't scary; if anything, she was always super supportive. However, Jimin and Yana both knew she'd be nothing but a worried mess knowing Yana was out in California on her own. "Let me know if you need anything from me, okay? Watch out for yourself down there."

"I will. I'll talk to you later, I'm gonna try to get on with my day before all I do is sleep. I love you."

"Love you too." Yana hangs up the phone, sighing at the mess she created with her luggage sprawled out in the room. She tried digging for something more appropriate for the Los Angeles weather at the moment, in which the sun was shining warmly but the surrounding morning air was cold. She headed back into the living room to scroll through her phone and figure out what to do with her day. She could go for some good coffee and breakfast right now, but where? Something walkable? She figured she could also uber around until she got used to the public transportation around here.

Some pancakes, eggs and—

Knock, knock, knock.

Yana sprung her head up to face the door, unsure of who could be here this early. She too was wondering if you had just left without notice, or if it could be the mailman delivering a package. But, this early? Is this how they did it in California? She peeks through the peephole to see a rather tall figure, wearing a beanie, hoodie, sweats, a coat and sneakers. He held two cups of coffee in his hands as he waited patiently for the door to be swung open.

"Hi." Yana said, cocking her head to the side as she held onto the door knob. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why she was answering the door and not his bestfriend.

"Hi, I'm sorry. Is Y/N here?" Yana chuckled and shook her head. Figures. They were exactly on the same page with this swap.

"No, I'm sorry. She's in Seoul." His eyes widened.

"Seoul? As in South Korea Seoul?" She nodded.

"Yeah, we swapped homes for the month. Sorry, I'm guessing she didn't tell you anything." He shook his head. "Come in. I'm Yana." She smiled, having him return the smile back.

"Namjoon." He steps in and directly goes for the kitchen to place the coffee cups down. "Help yourself to the coffee I brought over."

"Thanks." She smiled softly.

"So, when exactly did this swap happen?"

"I just got here not too long ago, actually. Y/N just got situated too."

"Damn, that recent?" Namjoon shook his head. "I don't get why she just upped and left like that."

"I'm sorry, I'm sure it wasn't anything personal."

"No need to apologize." He chuckled. "I'm kind of just thinking out loud here. It's a little random, that's all. I'm sure I'll hear the reasoning soon." He leaned his back against the counter. Yana thought he was really attractive, with the way he leaned back against the counter, buff arms crossed at the chest. She knew her reasoning for agreeing to the swap, especially with the troubles she's had with her ex, Jackson. But, to be honest, she wouldn't mind running into this man every so often. He showed off his dimple when he smiled and chuckled earlier, giving off some sort of calmness to his personality.

"Yeah, I'm sure you will."

"Did you guys know each other for awhile or something?"

"Nope, met completely out of the blue on the home exchange site."

"Nice." He nodded. He was just confused and almost shocked that you left without briefing him and Yoongi. Not that you owed them any explanation, but you've all been so transparent with each other due to the nature of your relationship. Why did you go off so far? Why didn't you let them tag along? What kind of Hannah Montana ass life are you living? "Definitely not something Y/N would do." Namjoon did a little head tilt.

"Are you her.. significant other?"

"God, no." He made a sour face. "We've been close since high school. Me, her and our other friend Yoongi. It's always been us three." She nodded.

"That's sweet." He smiled at her toothlessly, keeping his gaze on her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She felt her cheeks heat up, so she couldn't help but break the staring game by looking down at the floor.

"Sorry, you must have things to do. I'll get going." He pushed off on the counter.

"I was actually just trying to figure out what I could do with my day. Any recommendations?"

"Tons. Depends on what you're looking to do to start off your first day in LA." She chuckled.

"Not too much since the jetlag will hit me sometime soon."

"I can show you around if you'd like? It's honestly not easy getting around here without a car. Uber is cool and all but those surcharges can get to you." She smiled but hesitated to answer. They had literally just met, but she didn't feel any weird vibes coming from him. If anything, he was already showing how down to earth and laid back he was. "Only if you'd like, of course. I promise I don't bite or anything." She chuckled.

"Actually, yeah. I'm down for that. I just need to go get ready."

"Take your time." Namjoon hung over the kitchen counter to go through his phone as Yana walked away. He figured he could help her get some breakfast and take her down to Santa Monica, for starters.

Later that afternoon, Namjoon brought Yana back home to rest up early. There were only so many things you could do from early on and he could tell she was getting pretty tired even though she tried her hardest to keep up, which made him feel bad. He got to his apartment that he shared with Yoongi and threw his beanie and keys off to the side of the dining table.

“Yoongi-ah!” He called out for Yoongi. The boy came out of his room, looking like he had just woken up from a deep nap.

“Why are you yelling for me?”

“Did you know Y/N was in Seoul?”

“Our Y/N? In Seoul?”

“Yes, that’s what I just asked.” Yoongi scratched his head and sat down on the couch, head tilting back to rest on it.

“No. The fuck? Since when?”

“Like a day or whatever ago, I don’t really want to calculate the time difference right now.”

“Why is she there?”

“Dunno. Wanna find out?” Yoongi scrolled through his phone and shook his head.

“They’re 15 hours ahead, so it’s like 8:30 AM there. I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She’s probably ti-” Namjoon instantly went into the Favorites tab of his phone to quickly pull up your contact info and call you. “Alright, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” The first time he called you through Facetime, you didn't pick up. So he tries again, completely ignoring the whole time difference shpeel from Yoongs.

"What?" You asked groggily on the other line, eyes still closed while you had the phone staring up at the ceiling so Namjoon couldn't see you.

"How's Seoul?"

"Namjoon, leave me alone. It's 8AM."

"You’re usually up by that time when you’re here, get up out of that bed.”

“Clearly, I’m not home. You just said it.” You groaned.

“I told you she would be mad.” Yoongi peeks his head into the small Facetime frame on Namjoon’s phone. “Just for the record Y/N, I told him not to call you.”

“Why didn't you tell me?! I brought coffee only to find Yana at your apartment.” Namjoon continues to ignore all cues.

"You met her and she had coffee. Sounds like a win-win to me."

"Why didn't you say anything?" He whined.

"Because I knew if I did, you and Yoongi would try and come along."

"Ah, wait, wait. Is that so bad?!" Yoongi chimed in, a little hurt from that statement.

"I love you both dearly, but I really just wanted this to be solo-dolo." Namjoon sighed.

"Are you okay at least?"

"Yes, I promise. I'd be even more fine if you both let me get a little bit more sleep."

"You didn't do this because of Romeo, did you?"

"I'd be lying if I said no. Look, for the most part, I just wanted to get away from LA for a bit. Get away from work and all the other stressors that home has been bringing. Okay?”

"I get it."

"Now stop going to my house and scaring Yana, you giant."

"I took her around today."

"Don't start with the funny business, Joonie."

"And what if the funny business comes to me instead?" He pulled the camera close to his face, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. ‘You’re ugly,’ You hear Yoongi faintly say in the background, who is now completely out of the frame.

"Bye." You hang up and turn over to try and head back to sleep. Let's get this straight - you love Namjoon and Yoongi. You've done a lot of things together and you always look for their company. But, there were things you needed to get past on your own. The work stress and the impostor syndrome, keeping up with LA, your ex and the on and off years you've been putting yourself through all the hurt.

You felt like you really couldn't blame anyone but yourself, especially with Romeo and how he had been treating you. He had been treating you like a convenience and he never showed any effort. Yet, you always gave in because this was a man you loved for nearly the past 5 years.

It was just time. You were done. You had to remind yourself who you were.

#bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #jimin #park jimin #off the grid #otg #writing #jimin x reader

117 notes · View notes

bittywitches · 4 years

Text

A random Dialogue I came up with in my head while trying to fall asleep the night before. // G.D

Been having trouble writing lately and ended up just daydreaming (night dreaming?) abt Grayson one night, so I thought I’d try and just get it out and write something. Enjoy :)

You’re sitting in your bedroom, laying on your back with your laptop sitting on your stomach. You’re cuddled up with your jumbo-oversized teddy bear, your head resting on it’s furry stomach and your elbows lazily resting against it’s fat squishy legs. A google doc is opened on your screen, and you’re trying to half-assedly write a response for your final project on why Duke Orsino actually was gay in Twelfth Night, along with many of the other supporting characters, despite what most old white bardolators may tell you.

You feel a vibration near your leg, and you tilt your head to the side to see someone calling your phone. You pick it up, and your eyes widen when you see that it's a facetime call from Grayson Dolan. This was, of course, a shock, considering you and Grayson weren’t even that close friends, you only occasionally texted each other anymore, barely ever called, and literally NEVER facetimed. You guys had barely spoken to each other since quarantine had started, so it was definitely a surprise.

Your eyes flicker to your laptop screen, seeing that it’s around 9pm. Not too late that it’s sketchy or anything, but still pretty late for it to be strange.

You place your laptop down beside you and situp, leaning back against your headboard, quickly tying your hair up into a quick messy bun to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You slide the green phone icon across your screen.

Grayson’s face appears on your phone. He’s wearing a cute oversized fuzzy hoodie. His short hair is a bit frizzy, and it still takes you by surprise because you’re so used to seeing his long flowy locks.

“Heyy,” Grayson says, smiling at you. From behind his screen, Grayson sets himself down onto the living room couch, laying back on the arm.

“Hey.” You respond.

“What’re you up to?”

“Uhh, not much. Just working on final assignments and whatnot.”

“Oh, yea, school’s almost over for you, right?”

“Yep, just a few more weeks.”

“Bet you’re excited to finally get time off.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, tired of being stressed all the time.”

“Makes sense.”

An awkward silence fills both your rooms.

“Soo…” Grayson lays his head on the side of his couch.

“What’s up? Why’d you call?” You ask him.

“Oh, no reason. Just bored and felt like talking to someone.”

“Ethan not home?”

“Nah, he went out skateboarding with some friends.”

“This late?”

“It’s not that late. Just went to the park nearby.”

“Sounds fun. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard.”

“Yea?”

“Mhm. Maybe E can teach me sometime.”

“Hey, I know how to skateboard too. And I’d definitely be a much better teacher.”

You laugh. “Alright, next time we meet up you can teach me how to skateboard.”

“It’s a date.”

You both give a lighthearted chuckle, but then things turn quiet again.

“Erm, hold on.” You place your phone down on your bed.

“Where’re you goin’?”

“Gonna put my phone on a pillow so I don’t have to keep holding it,” You say, grabbing your nearest one and doing your best to balance your phone on top of it.

“Is that a giant teddy bear?” From the angle of your phone, Grayson can see your big stuffed animal sitting behind you.

“Haha, yea.” You lean back down on it briefly to give him a better idea of the size. “He’s my cuddle buddy.”

“That’s cute.”

“Our relationship has gotten a lot stronger since quarantine started.” You peck the bear on the nose. Grayson laughs.

“I’m happy for you guys.” You giggle, sitting back up.

“Why thank you.” You turn your attention back to your laptop quickly, and Grayson follows your line of vision.

“So what subject is this final for?”

“English.” You sigh. “Which sucks, because I’m shit at it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh but it is. I always do incredibly bad, I’m literally the worst.”

“Well you’re definitely not the worst, because I exist.”

“Well yeah but it’s not your fault that you can’t read.”

“Hey, I can read!”

“Sorry, It’s not your fault that you’re ass at reading. It is however my fault that I can’t write for shit.”

He laughs. “Fine, sure.”

You giggle. “Sorry. Just a bit stressed.”

“No big deal.”

Silence again. Usually now would be the time you’d make some excuse and cut the call. But for some reason unknown to you, you didn’t want to do that. You want to fill it.

“Oh, I watched your guys’ last video.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell me you guys weren’t just trying to look like douchebags with your literal 100 grand.”

“Aughhh,” He groans, rubbing his face with the hand not holding his phone. “I swear we really weren’t.”

“Uhuh.”

“I realize that it may not look like that,”

“Oh really?”

“Considering we actually had wads of cash,”

“Mhmmm.”

“But we weren't, I swear. We just thought it’d be funny for a stupid little video.”

“Okay then.”

“Hey!”

“Not judging.”

“Since when do you watch our videos anyways?”

You gave him a side-look. “What do you mean? You think I don’t?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Just assumed…”

“You’re my friend. ‘Course I do.”

He smiles.

“Plus they are pretty fun. Like to have them on in the background when I work sometimes..”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I mean, all the ones since quarantine we’ve had to be pretty creative with. Since we’re stuck at home and all.”

“You guys don’t give yourselves enough credit. I love what you come up with. It’s cool to just listen to you both ramble about stuff.”

“...Are you saying you also listen to the podcast?”

Your eyes shoot back to him. He was actually joking, but seeing your guilty expression lead to the smug sort of look on his face.

“You guys have very satisfying voices, okay?”

“Uhuh.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Either way, thanks. It means a lot that you do. I never really know if people we’re friends with like our stuff, so it’s good to know that at least someone does.”

You smile, and he returns it.

You suddenly hear a ding coming from his side.

“Oh shit almost forgot about my toast-” You see Grayson’s phone wobble as he gets up to head for the kitchen.

“Avocado?”

“You know it.” “Dang, I don’t think I’ve had avocado toast since…” You pause. “Huh. I guess since I accidentally ran into you at that one restaurant and we happened to get food together.”

“What-” He rights the phone so it’s facing him again. “That was ages ago!”

“Yea, I know.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

“You may think so.”

“Alright, so after I teach you how to skateboard, I’m gonna have to take you out for food.”

You laugh. “Is that a set in stone thing?”

“Oh definitely.”

He sets his food down on a table, and you watch as he tries to balance his phone up against something. He sits down, then takes a bit before looking back up at you.

“So when’s this due?”

“Uhh, tomorrow night.”

“You almost done?”

“Er..” You look at your half written page. “...sort of.”

“So no,” he chuckles, and you do too.

“I’ll finish it, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t say I was.”

“Well that’s ru-”

“Because I know you’ll finish it,” He interrupts you, and you roll your eyes. “You always do.”

You sigh, setting your elbow down on your knee and resting your face on your hand. You watch him silently for a bit, and he takes a few more bites before realizing your eyes on him.

“What?” He says, food still in his mouth.

“Nothin’,”

“Yea?”

“Yea, just… kinda just miss you.” You finally blurt out.

He stops chewing suddenly, and looks at his phone with a very intent look. He expects you to say more, but you don’t, looking back at your laptop screen.

He swallows, then sets his toast down. “Kinda just miss you too.”

You smile, trying to hide it by squishing the palm of your hand into your face, not taking your eyes off of the illuminated laptop.

“Why don’t we hang out anymore?”

“Because we’re legally not allowed to.” You finally look back at your phone, grabbing it from it’s pillow stand and then flopping down onto your bear’s belly.

He rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Before that.”

You shrug. “Dunno. We never really did to begin with.”

“Sure we did, there was the restaurant, and…” He trails off, looking far away at some corner of the room.

“I mean we hung out with other friends. And we talked sometimes.” You shrug again. “Not really much else though.”

He runs a hand through his short hair. “Why not?”

You laugh. “Bro, I don’t know! You never asked!”

“Well I fuckin wanted to!” He rubs his face with both his hands as he chuckles.

“Really?” Your laughter dies down now, a softer tone taking on your voice.

“Duh, of course.” He tilts his head as his soft eyes look at you. “You’re really fucking cool, and I really wanted to get to know you better, but it felt weird to just randomly come out of no where and be like ‘hey, wanna hang out?’ like that shit usually comes naturally, yknow?”

“Well, we don’t really hang out in the same circles, so I don’t know how it would.”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe…” He sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know if you wanted to be friends or anything, so..”

“Well that’s frustrating.” You slump your shoulders down, relaxing more into your bed. “I really wanted to be friends. Just didn’t wanna seem fucking… annoying or anything.”

“Oh my god why are we like this.”

“I don’t fucking know!!” You both burst out laughing, and you momentarily drop your phone to rub the tears out of your eyes.

“Okay, it’s settled then.” You hear his voice and pick your phone up off your stomach to face it towards your face again, now sitting up.

“What is?”

“After quarantine and everything is over I’m definitely taking you out for food and skateboarding.”

You grin. “Okay. Sounds amazing.”

“Great.” There’s quiet again, but it’s not awkward anymore, both of your gleeful grins speak volumes over it.

“Okay.”

You giggle. “Okay, I should go. Should probably actually try and get this thing done.”

“Right. I’ll… call you tomorrow?”

You bite your tongue. “Yeah.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

You cut the call, and let your arms fall down to your sides as you fall back on your bed and grin up at the ceiling. You squeeze your eyes shut, just breathing in and out to calm yourself down from the little rush. Though the buzz of your phone once again catches your attention.

You get up and look at it, seeing it’s a text from Grayson.

Grayson D.: Just realized you probably don’t have a skateboard…

You bit your lip, and flopped down onto your belly now, your legs up in the air as you text him back.

Y/N: You’d be right 😅

Your eyes eagerly watch the three dots bouncing on the screen.

Grayson D.: Would you wanna borrow one of mine?

Y/N: I’m totally good with getting my own, but idk where

Grayson D.: Well there’s this shop near my house…

Assignment long forgotten, you and Grayson end up talking well into the night.

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins concept #dolan twins imagine #ethan dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #dolan twins

225 notes · View notes

pynkhues · 4 years

Note

C&C prompts!!!!! someone is sick?? preferably someone who is a horrific patient and it's early enough in that the whole little family unit is still trying to find their footing together and the whole thing's a mess???

Attempting this challenge has been a real reminder that I am no good at short things, haha, but look! 2k isn’t too bad for me?????

(I hope you like it 😘)

Set in The Center & Circumference Universe.

(Early in the relationship, as requested ;-))

It goes like this:

Elizabeth sneezes.

She sneezes and it ain’t some cute little ladylike nothin’ sneeze neither. It’s some loud, fucked-up-sinus, mucous-mouthed thing that echoes around the warehouse and makes everyone stop working, and shit, even Demon looks taken aback. Rio bites his tongue, gaze sliding from him back to Elizabeth, who suddenly stands up taller to meet his look, squares her shoulders, and he has the sudden, vivid memory of Jane doing this at the foot of their bed last week.

“What?”

And yeah, Jane had said that too.

Elizabeth though, she’s got this indignant edge to her voice that means she’s getting defensive, like her hair ain’t frizzing at her sweaty temples, like her skin ain’t flushed, peaked, her eyes ain’t starting to water, and he’d known it this morning before she’d left ahead of him for school run, but okay - - maybe he’d let himself believe her. Maybe he’d let her bat those baby blues at him, let her distract him by leaving the top couple of buttons undone on her ugly floral blouse so he could see the flushed curve of her breast, let her tell him - -

Rio works his jaw, huffs out a breath.

“You said you were good.”

“I am good,” she says right away, voice a little too loud, like he won’t hear the hoarseness that way and when Rio squints at her, she flails out a wobbly hand. “It’s allergies.”

He pops an eyebrow at that.

“In July?”

Behind him, Demon snorts on a laugh, and he sees Elizabeth’s focus snap to him, her own jaw rock, the flush at her cheeks deepening. She shifts her weight, side-to-side, and that ain’t good either, because she looks halfway to wobbling too far and topplin’ over, but still, she blinks.

Takes too long to blink.

Like her eyes close and she doesn’t entirely wanna reopen them.

She does though, just enough to glare.

“Not all allergies are seasonal,” she says, and her voice cracks a little at the end, and he can see it – how much she needs to sit down, and he’s of half a mind to get her arm over his shoulder and drag her over to a seat, but also is she really tryna play him like this?

It’s the latter thought that wins out, because - - whatever. He’ll catch her if she passes out.

“So it ain’t got nothin’ to do with last week?” he asks, and shit, it’s like some game of chicken, because Elizabeth firms her look, wets her lips, tilts up her chin.

“I’d tell you if it was.”

And this has pretty clearly proven she wouldn’t, but still, Rio rolls his shoulders back, and turns on his heel, starts walking again to the meeting room in the back where they’re supposed to be hearing a pitch from some new associate, because fine, if this is what they’re doing, it ain’t no skin off his nose. And okay, maybe they set up in the meeting and he spends most of the time watching her, because her skin’s less flushed now and more paper pale, and maybe she wobbles a little in her seat as she trains glazed eyes on the kid pitchin’ them the idea for smugglin’ hormone pills to Cleveland across Lake Erie, and maybe she tries to subtly swipe at her damp forehead as she curls her hair behind her ears and maybe he can hear her swallowing coughs, and maybe he should’ve taken her home before she passed out, but, y’know, he said he’d catch her, and he did, so he can’t really be faulted for that.

Last week went something like this:

Danny sneezed.

Danny sneezed then Jane sneezed then Emma, Marcus, Kenny, and Rio was vaguely reminded of sitting in front of the TV and watching A Christmas Carol as a kid himself, seeing the ghost of Christmas past, present, future in symptoms across the five of them while he and Elizabeth both wrangled tissue boxes and kiddie aspirin, cough syrup and glassy eyed tears over Frozen, Frozen 2, Wreck It Ralph, Frozen, Moana, Frozen, Zooptopia, Moana, Frozen.

(He might have thrown the bluray of that fuckin’ movie out before Annie came over with extra supplies and cooingly installed Disney+ on their TV, and shit, he’s had a lot of reasons to kill her before, but they all pale in comparison).

And okay, maybe it was a thing, because they were still pretty new to all of this and Rio didn’t need to be as good at math as he was to know that handlin’ five sick kids was gonna be worse than one, but still. He doesn’t think he’ll ever feel as close to burnin’ a house down as he did tryna handle three sobbing, snuffling kids at once, and they’d gotten well and the handover had happened and he’d maybe never been happier to give a mostly-better Marcus back to Laura and see the rest of them (also mostly-better) off to Elizabeth’s dumbass ex, and piling into bed after.

Him and Elizabeth hadn’t even fucked, they’d just collapsed back onto the mattress and looked at each other.

“If you get sick, I’m leaving you.”

He can’t remember which one of them said it.

It goes something like this:

Elizabeth sneezes.

Elizabeth sneezes and Rio throws a tissue box at her bedridden form as he works on his laptop in the reading chair in the corner, his own legs propped up on the ottoman he’s dragged up from the living room, as he works on the specs for the associate’s Cleveland pitch.

“Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, you know that?” she asks him, nose so blocked at this point her voice comes out somehow both hoarse and reedy, and Rio glances up at her over the top of his laptop, biting back a grin.

Thing is, she really does look like hell. The bags beneath her eyes are so purple they almost look like bruises, her skin so pale it’s almost translucent. He’d managed to get her into her favourite, ugliest pyjamas when he’d hauled her back into the house, and she looks comfy, between them and the approximately 800 blankets she’d demanded he pull out to cover her.

She’d sweat the fever out pretty quick, and he’d made awkward but proficient work of takin’ care of her – wiping her brow, feedin’ her flu medicine, and making thin, tasteless soup he somehow hadn’t managed to completely fuck up (then again, the only ingredients had been stock, salt and slivered vegetables) – and hours had gone by and she’d slept and glowered and offered frail excuses, and now - -

Well.

“Ain’t what you said last night,” he hums, clicking through the spreadsheet, and he feels more than sees Elizabeth’s eyeroll in reply.

“I said bedside manner, not - - in-bed manner,” she sniffs, before pulling out a tissue and blowing her nose, and Rio glances up at her red cheeks and wet eyelashes and grins.

“Figured what we did counted more as bed-side.”

And maybe it was semantics, but whatever. It was fun in the moment of it, rememberin’ both their toes curled in this carpet, her body bent like an L atop their sheets, ass up towards him, and - -

“Bed-over,” Elizabeth corrects, and it surprises him enough that Rio barks on a laugh, glancing up at her again, grinning when he spots the subdued but still-a-little-playful look in her eye.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that, huh?”

The look on her face is as close to affectionate as she ever gets, and he shifts a little in his seat, feels himself warm beneath it, as she flops back into their pillows, still snuffling. He can pretty much smell the sweat on them at this point, and he wonders vaguely if he can change the sheets before he slips in tonight, because shit, they are damp, and he’s spent enough time hovering over the kids’ feverishly moist beds over the last week to like the idea of somethin’ a little crisper, when Elizabeth suddenly says:

“You stayed though. So that’s - - you know. That’s some sort of bedside manner.”

His gaze darts up, takes in her pink, mottled cheeks, her crooked nose, her dimpled chin, and her voice was high. Light and airy in that way she ain’t, and there’s a knot between his shoulders when he shrugs.

“Well, we got a mortgage now,” he drawls, eyes skirting back down to the spreadsheet on his laptop screen but not taking any of the figures in.

“A big one,” Elizabeth agrees, like they don’t both know they’ve paid it outright, and Rio hums, willing her complicity in the moment of it, because fuck, if that ain’t just - -

Easier.

And he can’t really think about what that means, not really, but maybe he doesn’t have to, because suddenly Elizabeth says:

“I bet you’re terrible when you’re sick.”

Rio jerks his head up, eyebrows raised, and Elizabeth snuffles, closing her eyes briefly, shuffling back into their pillows. The air around her is thick, her body tired, slumped, but glowing with the sheen of her fevered sweat. He wets his lips, works his jaw, meets her eye.

“You’re probably like the - - the poster child for man flu,” she adds, which is a little rich comin’ from the woman who passed out halfway through a meeting. Rio arches an eyebrow back at her, and somewhere in the pocket of his jeans, his cell buzzes. Somewhere outside of here, he can hear afternoon traffic and a neighbour yell. He can hear a lot of things, but he can’t see anything that ain’t Elizabeth, awkward and beautiful and a straight up fuckin’ mess, sprawled out in their bed.

“You talk to every man who takes care of you that way, or just me, huh?”

And her head jerks at that, neck forcing at an odd angle, shoulder shoving up to suffocate the pillow against the bedhead.

“All of them,” she decides after a moment, and Rio snorts on a laugh, closing his laptop and putting it aside. The knot between his shoulders is settling, and he ain’t exactly taking in the specs anyway (he thinks the deal’s a no-go, but he figured lookin’ it over was the least he could do for the kid, given one of his potential bosses rolled out of her fuckin’ body halfway through his pitch), so he starts towards the bed, planning on folding in directly beside her, when Elizabeth shakes her head, pushing him gently away.

“No,” she says. “I’m not - - I - - ”

She’s fumbling for the words, and Rio looks at her, taking her in all over again, seeing the uncertainty not the set of her, and so he ignores her, returning her gentle shove with one of his own and lying down in their bed, and he can’t explain it. The feeling in his chest when she casts wide eyes at him.

“What?” he grunts, and she opens her mouth once, twice, says:

“I - - Dean - - ”

Her mouth clamps shut.

She stares at him, and Rio stares back, watching her mandible clench, her lips twitch, her bambi eyes blink. After a moment, she shakes her head, wriggles down in the bed.

“You’ll only have yourself to blame if you get sick.”

Rio snorts.

“Darlin’, we both know I probably already got it.”

She rolls her eyes then, but keeps wriggling down until they’re eye level again, and Rio leans over, just enough to hook a finger beneath her chin, flick it up over the dimple there, and he watches as her tired eyes glaze over or - - maybe not. Maybe they’re just overtaken somehow. By somethin’ that just makes her look at him in a way he still ain’t used to. Naked almost, open and tired and warm.

“Probably,” she agrees quietly, and she turns into him. Rio’s fingers lift from her chin to brush over her wet lips.

“’Sides,” he tells her. “Where else would I wanna sleep?”

Like they don’t have at least five other bedrooms in this house.

Like there ain’t the promise of something warmer, cleaner, fresher, safer somewhere in this house, but he don’t want it.

This is his bed.

She’s his - -

“Fine,” she says, pointedly closing her eyes, and Rio does the same, and maybe he pretends he doesn’t notice the way she shuffles – ever so slightly – closer before they both fall asleep.

It goes something like this:

Rio sneezes.

Rio sneezes and Elizabeth fuckin’ laughs.

#beth x rio #my fic #the center and circumference #beth boland #rio #welcome to my ama #mego42

63 notes · View notes

ofmythsandmadness · 4 years

Text

laughing like there’s any other answer (part two)

part two to ‘laughing like there’s any good reason to smile’.

SUMMARY - maybe he should have ignored the voices above his room. pretended he was sleeping, or out, or mysterious murdered and unable to acknowledge that she was back, drunk again, and still laughing. but alas, the heart wants what it wants and it rarely thinks things through.

WARNINGS - egregious usage of the word ‘toothpaste’ at one point, some foul language, the avoidance of a lot of questions. one mention of throwing up (but it’s v quick and literally just two words and we skate past it, nothing graphic). also, poor onomatopoeia usage, as though i wasn’t an english fanatic in high school. WORD COUNT - 3790. diego hargreeves x female insert.

A/N - this was meant to be just a quick happy writ. and now it’s a bittersweet (more bitter than sweet) mess that’s just making this story more complicated, haha. but it’s fine, she says, nervously laughing like she hadn’t just mucked up the singular happy piece she’s ever written. i’m not sure how i’m doing, thanks for asking. :)

“IT’S ALL SO STUPID, DIEGO, BECAUSE PEOPLE COULD LIKE YOU.”

After the events of last week, Diego was certain he would never see her again.

Maybe he’d see her, but not her, her. Not the drunk-off-her-ass, mumbling about nonsense and threatening to throw herself out of cars woman, who laughed like she hadn’t a care in the world and called him really dumb, nonsensical nicknames for no reason at all. The one that he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter what he did; she haunted him even without being dead, and he was honestly impressed because that was a hard gift to master so fast.

No, that was a rare sighting of a weird miracle - like a double rainbow, just way less exciting and hopeful.

But as the week progressed, he had not heard from her at all. She was a ghost. He couldn’t find her anywhere, not at least where she would normally be. Diego was certain she wasn’t dead, because he would have heard about that, but apart from the most morbid of options, he was out of clues as to where she could possibly be.

He had not been sure how he felt about that. At first, the absence of her presence was a nice break, and he could do as he pleased without any arguments - but as the days went on and his dreams about the other night got stronger, he found himself curious. More than curious; worried. He didn’t want to have their last conversation be that bullshit.

“I like you, you know that?”

A week after they last spoke, and Diego was trying his very best to not care. It was a Tuesday, and Tuesdays were the days he ‘got off’. The stolen - ahem, borrowed - police scanner sat beside him, crackling every so often, but it didn’t say much more than the usual, professional bullshit that didn’t need his input on. He’d wait the night out, see if anything exciting happened, but he had a feeling it’d be a quiet night.

Diego stared at the punching bag in front of him, watching it sway every so gently. Sometimes he imagined a face on it, most times he didn’t, it was just fun to hit and slash. He probably shouldn’t, the little shits were expensive and Al hated his ass already, but-

THWANK.

To hell with it, anyways.

Two more knives joined their friends, quivering. But they didn’t stay long; Diego yanked them out of the soft flesh of the bag, groaning as he sank back down onto the chair. He threw them again, and then again, creating a sad pattern he often enjoyed after the work was done.

THWANK.

The silver metal glinted in the lamplight, cold and bright. The tip dug into the pad of his index finger; he ignored it and twirled the knife anyways.

THWANK.

An old song played in the back of his mind. He didn’t remember the words, but he remembered enough for it to be annoying as hell, repeating the few phrases over and over like a broken record. Diego tried to think of something else, replace the half-assed memory, and yet still the song played on. His only option was to try to listen to anything else, anything at all, but -

-THWANK.

It was quiet in the gym. The only people there were Al and himself, and neither were making much noise. He only knew the former was still there because of his groaning footsteps as he walked the worn wood above Diego’s head, and the occasional curse thrown out like a bullet towards nothing in particular. But the music of the daytime was gone, and with it had gone the hubbub of conversations, grunts and groans and whatever else atmospheric nonsense he normally got.

THWANK.

He didn’t like the quiet much. And he certainly did not like it then, with the stupid song stuck - why couldn’t he remember the name of it, or anything about it? Just a couple bars of an oldie he didn’t even like...some name with an ‘F’, maybe. A shithead singing out his poor heart for a love never returned back to him...why couldn’t there be any other song stuck?

Diego groaned and threw another knife. He poised another in his long fingers, twirling the handle without much thought before pulling back and -

“-what the hell don’t you get, huh?”

He froze. The knife fell from his hand; he fumbled to pick it up a second later, awkward and absent-minded. So focused on whatever Al was bitchin’ about then, he hardly realised he had squeezed too hard, and then-

“-OW!”

Diego roared with all the sound of a mouse, throwing himself off the chair and towards the small bathroom. The wound wasn’t deep, but it stung bright red and painful, scratching out his stupidness across his tender palm. He should have been more careful, he was always so careful with the things-

“-look...I know he’s here, mister!”

He paused again, scratch forgotten. That definitely was not Al.

“I don’t giv’a crap. We’re closed.”

“Uh...so why is this sign saying it’s open?”

“What - no, you just did that!”

Diego could scream. He would scream, if he wasn’t going to lose his job and home to Al’s pissed off ass - but he definitely, really wanted to, frustration bouncing around in his head like a toddler with a tantrum. Gone were all the thoughts of where Y/N was; all he could think about then, was stopping Y/N as soon as he possibly could.

He hurriedly wrapped gauze around his bleeding palm (which really didn’t do much, it just made the wound look worse) and left the bathroom. Taking the stair steps two at a time, it took him merely thirty seconds to get up to the main area.

“What the hell’s going on?”

“Ah - see, I knew you had him hidden away somewhere!”

Al spun around and fixed his glare on Diego. “You know this lunatic?”

He sighed and nodded (not because he wanted to, but because he had to - there was no way she would walk away from this quietly). “Yeah, I know her. I’ll take care of it, Al.”

“You know, I put up with every single one of your stupid stunts, but I don’t appreciate-”

“-yeah, yeah, I know. I know,” Diego nodded, pretending to listen without hearing a single word of his boss’ speech. “I got it. C’mon.”

Y/N perked up then and stumbled over to him with the biggest smile he might have seen her ever wear in his whole life. If he wasn’t so pissed off…

“What happened to your hand, dear boy?”

He quickly retracted his grip, hiding the injured limb from her sight. “Nothin’.”

“Diego, I’m not stupid.”

“You sure? Cause turning up here, in the middle of the goddamn night on a Tuesday-”

-she yanked her arm away from his tight grip and carried on without him. Even as he protested and hurried behind her, somehow she remained faster, racing down the stairs with the grace of a newborn deer. All limbs and stumbles, but not a care in the world as she shouted something back at him he couldn’t quite catch.

“You can’t just be here.”

“And why not? I mean, you’ve shown up at my place without-”

“-that’s different.”

She stopped then and turned just as he reached her. Both chests heaved, and her eyes darted about his face as though piecing together a mosaic. He just watched her.

“And why is it different, my dainty...dear...Diego?”

“I...I-”

“-gotcha,” she whispered, before pushing the door in with a laugh. “Gotcha, ha - you just got beat by me - how does that feel? How does that feel?”

Diego groaned. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a loser,” she crowed back. But her interest quickly strayed from him, eyes tracing the walls of the tiny space. “You know, I’ve never been here before.”

“Yeah, well-”

“-I like it! I was worried it’d suck total ass, but honestly, out of aaaall the guys’ rooms I’ve seen, this...this is pre-tty close to the top.”

He wasn’t sure whether to take it as a real compliment or not, but at least she didn’t seem interested in a response. It gave him the chance to head back into the bathroom and collect the gauze he had left all over the ground.

“Don’t you have,” he grunted, peeling off the fabric to reveal the sliced palm underneath, “work tomorrow?”

“Work, shmork.”

His teeth gritted. It wasn’t a bad cut, not at all - but it always had to be the shallowest that hurt the most. “Thought you were married to that shit.”

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“Holy shi-give a man a warning,” he retorted, stepping back as much as he could. Though, in the tiny bathroom, there wasn’t much of that - the backs of his legs hit the shower curtain, and she just looked on with a sloppy smile and lidded eyes. “How’d you move so quietly--”

She waved off his question and pushed into the tiny room. “You’re gonna make a mess, trying to deal with that. Let me, loser.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy. And I’ve got the hands of a surgeon, with or without,” she grinned, refusing even the slightest rebuttal in her triumphant claims. Without any hesitation, she reached for the bottle of peroxide and promptly poured it down his hand like it was water off a duck’s back. Her expression didn’t shift when Diego shouted in pain; she just kept up the swift work with his hand as her hostage.

“You’re a dick.”

“And you’re a little baby.”

“Rude.”

She stuck her tongue out his way.

“You don’t need to-ow,” he hissed, when the gauze tightened too far against his palm. “I could have done it, asshole.”

Y/N’s smile slipped a little at that, and for a moment she didn’t respond; her hands just worked the white bandages around his own, and pressed it together. Finally, once the task was done though, her eyes lifted to his again.

“Sometimes, we need the most help, even when we insist on the opposite.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. I might have made it up. But it sounded real nice, didn’t it?”

Diego just nodded.

“Can I…” her breath hitched, and somehow, she got even closer than before; he could make out every individual lash glint in the bathroom light, and the way her lips were swollen and a little bruised - he guessed from the constant worrying between her teeth. “Can I ask you a question, Diego?”

He nodded again.

Her hand ever so lightly grazed over his own; fingers tracing up with the delicacy of a flower. “Do you…”

His breath caught in his throat. Gone were all the frustrations at her of before; all he could think about was her, on repeat in his mind like an EDM song, blaring her name as explosions echoed in the distance. Wasn’t it just seconds before, that she was torturing him with peroxide? Why couldn’t he think about anything but her eyes, and lips, the way she just --

“W-what?”

“Do you have any toothpaste?”

Diego blinked, then again, unsure if he had just misheard her. “What?”

“Toothpaste. Y’know, the shit ta clean your teeth?” Her head cocked, her eyes singing laughter, “don’t tell me those pearlies are magic-”

“-I have toothpaste - why the hell do you need toothpaste?”

Once more, she looked like she was in on a joke he just didn’t get. “To brush my teeth with...duh. You think I’m just gonna scrub my tongue with a plain toothbrush? Jeez, Diego, how-”

-he cut her off with a grunt that really didn’t sound like any word in the English language and swung past. In the back of his head, he was murdering his subconscious and wishing the idiot would stop acting for itself. “Here,” he said, passing her the tube. “Knock yourself out.”

Y/N’s smile grew wider. “Kinky. But I’d rather just brush my teeth.”

“Jes-what does that even mean?!”

Diego, sadly, would never find out. He was left to simply watch her cross the room again, brandishing the tube with great pride in search of her purse - “I threw up on the way here,” she explained, “and I had my toothbrush, but no toothpaste! And I remembered, Diego has nice teeth, and obviously toothpaste is a necessity, so he must have toothpaste! I think that’s why I told the guy to drop me here, actually.”

“There - you know you’re making no sense, right?”

She shrugged, swooping past where he still stood again. She pulled a toothbrush out of its thin black case and started applying his toothpaste. He watched her, unsure what to do as she took over his bathroom and mumbled through an intense brushing session. Before he could even try to understand her, though, he realised something.

“Do you just carry around a toothbrush, wherever you go?”

Her motions paused for a second before resuming. It was so quick, a normal person would have just skipped right over it, but Diego gripped tight to maybe his only clue towards his personal investigation as to ‘what the hell she was doing there, and why’.

“I - I mwearn,” she paused, spitting out and resuming her brushing, “I dwown’t arwawys - swowry, wone swec.”

He waited.

“Sorry. I was saying, I don’t always have a toothbrush on me, but I did today, I had to pick up my stuff and I guess I just left this little guy in my bag. Which was lucky, right?”

Diego ignored her end question and pressed on. “Where were you picking up your stuff from? You’re moving?”

“Oh, ha - no, nothing like that. Just from a friend.” With a snap, the toothbrush had returned to its case and she was yet again pushing right past. That time, though, Diego followed.

“A friend?”

“You do know the definition of that word, right? I can-”

“-a friend that makes you get wasted after visiting with?”

Y/N pushed herself up her leaning, hands clutched tight to her tiny bag. Her smile still remained, but it wasn’t the easy one of just moments before; it was strained, forced onto unwilling cheeks like a suit of armour.

“I’m not wasted, dear, dapper, Diego. Far from it. If I was wasted, I’d be so much stupider than I am right now. I mean, I can-”

“-this the same friend from last week, too?”

“What? What are you-” Y/N swallowed. Her eyes slipped from his to her purse, watching her hands scrabble at the silver handle like it was her last lifeline. “Are you - I don’t get this routine, dude. I just needed toothpaste! I hate bad breath, don’t you?”

Diego stepped over and grabbed her hands in his uninjured one, pausing the frantic picking at the bag. It dropped with a solemn thud; neither looked down to it.

“What was that for?” She asked, quiet that time.

“You’re not here cause you needed toothpaste.”

“Do you want me to reimburse you for it? Cause I think I might have a dime somewhere, I don’t know how much you want but I’ll pay you back for the tiny, TINY amount of your precious paste I used.”

Diego groaned. For a moment, that flash of frustration flared up again and he was tempted to give up this at all. But it was easily quelled when he looked up again, seeing the worried look she badly covered up with a smile.

“Why’re you here, Y/N?”

“What d’y…” her bottom lip was tugged up into the grasp of her hungry teeth; they worried and nibbled without relief. “D’you want me to go?”

“No. No, I don’t want you to go.”

“Then just let it be, darling,” she sang softly, “and let’s let the toothpaste incident die.”

“No, cause…” his hand pressed softly into her palm, intertwining their fingers with a gentleness he himself didn’t know he possessed. “This is the second time now, you’ve come or called me after getting drunk off your ass, which really isn’t your style. I mean, you’re a freakin’ workaholic. It’s a Tuesday night. You’d be fast asleep right now.”

Her eyes shifted to just behind him, avoiding his soft stare. “You been stalking me or somethin’, my dear?”

“No, but I know you. You’re too caught up in making sure everyone thinks you’re Miss Perfect to be late for shit. Let alone hungover.”

“Well…” she sighed, a sad little sound that barely echoed from her own lips. She seemed to contemplate his words, tossing them over before throwing them away and moving right along. “You really think of me like that? You think everyone does?”

Diego frowned. “Like what?”

“Miss Perfect? Miss - miss -” her hand grew a little clammy in his grasp; she was getting nervous, and he supposed the alcohol wasn’t helping. “-you think of me as a stick in the mud, Diego? I’m not interesting or exciting, just a plain Jane who-”

“-I think you’re fascinating,” he murmured, even without thinking. He almost regretted the words the second they slipped from his mouth; her gaze snapped to his, wide-eyed and confused, and he could just see the cogs working behind her head. He wasn’t even sure where the words came from, or why they had - he hadn’t thought about anything past getting our where she was, and yet…

“You don’t even like me.”

Diego sighed and held her hand a little tighter. His injured palm came to rest over them, squeezing even with the twinge of pain. “Course I like you. You said that last week.”

“Did I?” She laughed, but it was shrill and pitiful. A mere shell of the glorious sounds that had filled his car days prior; if he hadn’t pressed every sound to his memory permanently, he’d have never known she was the same person. “I - doesn’t sound like me. Are you pulling my leg, Diego?”

He ignored her awkward question, pressing on. “That was the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh. You know that? And we’ve known each other for a while.”

“I’ve laughed before, dummy.”

“That’s - those - those’re bullshit laughs, professional garbage,” he responded, each word growing a little bit stronger. “I heard you laugh your ass off to nothing at all in my car last week, and it was be...n-nice. That’s the shit I know that’s real. Not this game you’re playin’ with yourself.”

Y/N still wouldn’t look at him, no matter how he pressed against her hand, or stared her down. Her eyes rested on a space past him, but they grew sadder by the second, losing that little spark of drunken happiness she had forced to build before.

“The Y/N I know,” Diego continued, made bold by a feeling he didn’t recognise, “doesn’t take shit from anybody. You don’t think twice; you just do. You trust your gut and it’s almost always right. Sure, sometimes you screw up, but…”

“...not sometimes, dear. Always.”

“No, not-”

“-dear me, I don’t know why I came here,” she muttered, and within a single pull, she was free and pushing away from him. “Sorry, Diego, I mean - it’s a Tuesday! You’ve got your little black-leather Batman fantasy and I’ve got work tomorrow. You know, I’ve been prepping for this meeting and it’s going to be good, I just need to finish those blasted points…”

She rattled on about nothing at all, repeating phrases and half-mumbling the words as she gathered her dropped belongings up. Her jacket, the bag that had fallen between them before, and something he couldn’t quite catch that had slipped out with it.

And Diego, stupidly, just watched.

“You be careful, okay? And-” she paused then, swaying ever so slightly in the windless room, “-just watch yourself. It’s a shitty world, and I can’t have the one person that - that - well, I don’t know where I’m going with this thought, it’s going to stop now. Ha...yeah, no. Just be safe, and make sure you get your six to nine hours or whatever bull...shit…” A sob ended the sentence, soft and sad and joined right after by a loud sniffle.

Diego still watched in silence.

“I know you don’t like me,” she muttered, voice growing raspy from presumably, tears building behind shitty defenses, “and that’s okay. But I...I appreciate you putting up with me. You’re a good guy, Diego. And that’s good. That’s nice. I think you might just be the last goddamn nice guy in this whole city...hm. Should get you a medal, or something. That’d make a good t-shirt…”

He watched her cross and head up the stairs, staggering on one but regaining her balance quickly. And just as she opened the door-

“-you can’t go home by yourself.”

Y/N stopped still and took in his words. She nodded slowly. “Sure...you’re...um, yeah. I’ll call my si...or...my friend, she’s at my place so...uh-huh.”

“C’mon, I’ll just-”

“-you’ve done enough for me tonight, dear,” she smiled, and he could just make out the glint of a tear on her cheek. “Let’s see if your boss won’t do me a favour, too.”

“Y/N.”

She mock-glared, though the expression wasn’t held long. “Diego - see, I can do that too.”

“Let me take you home.”

“This is good, trust me. I’ll...she has my car, so I’ll just call it in. I’ll be gone in four shakes of a scout’s tail, or…that’s not right.” She smiled. “Doesn’t matter. Thanks for the toothpaste, darling boy.”

“B-be safe...”

“I will,” she promised, still smiling like there was any reason to. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to waste anymore of your time, not going to make you have to save me...yeah. See you, Diego.”

She shut the door then, leaving him alone in the heavy silence.

Moments later, he heard the familiar voices above him again.

“Sir, sorry, if you don’t mind…”

“Great Scott, girl - did he do this to you?!”

“Oh, Diego? No, he’s a lovely boy and he was actually being very sweet, I just...I was just thinking about my grandma, and I...I need to make a call?”

The conversation continued, with Al trying his best to console Y/N, and her repeating - even on the phone - that she would be just fine, and that ‘she was awfully sorry for her behaviour, she’s not really the sort to play such sad pranks but desperate times called for bad measures’. Eventually, then, the voices faded, with her wishing him a cheery goodbye and footsteps clunking against the ceiling.

And it was only as her steps died into silence and the door clanged shut, that Diego unfroze from his standing position and realised what a deep, deep, ‘idiot’s only’ grave he had just dug for himself.

#the umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves oneshot #tua x reader #diego hargreeves reader insert #part two

102 notes · View notes

lunasilvermorny · 4 years

Text

Festival Fun SQ - Part 1 - It’s already all over the place, and we’re just starting.

Okay, let’s do this!

Ooooh, I love this loading screen.

2 out of 4 pairings are actually together in the headcanon, so I approve!

Ah, yes. We all know that every love story always starts with... gardening? Anyway, JC, can you pick up the pace already?

I promised myself I’ll try to be patient, but...

Okay, okay.

Positive attitude. Let’s continue...

Ahhhhh.... Care to elaborate a bit, MC?

I feel like we need a bit more context.

Jesus Christ, who did you murder?

So, it’s been a while since I played this game...

But you all see that dragon in the task-bar, right?

Charlie, what did you do?

Charlie: First the task-bar, then the world!

(Future me: I get it, it’s a clubs thing... I’m sharing some of my original notes too, okay? Just roll with it...)

Hagrid: Nothin’ like child-labor, I always say.

Just wait till 2020, mate.

No one is laughing now...

You’re talking to Luna... obviously, class would be the best part for her.

I can see her and Rowan squealing in excitement already.

Wait a minute, Rowan’s going to be here, right? Right, JC?!

It’s a year-5 achievement. You better make sure he’s there!

Well, that’s a huge leap... I think you added 10 levels by mistake.

Not that I'm complaining, but...

It caught me off guard.

Why do I feel like Tonks is contemplating their friendship as Luna’s talking?

I can’t be the only one that immediately thought of the "There’s a horse in the hospital” bit by John Mulaney.

Either Tonks has the biggest “bro” attitude out there, or she lives vicariously through MC.

Damn, so bitter...

But he’s 100% right, to be fair.

JC, lamp-shading it won’t make it less creepy, you know. I hated how everyone ganged up on her in the Valentine’s Day SQ. I really hope it will be a bit more subtle this time.

You mean the one where you’re still not a romantic option?

Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s cool they added Jae and Chiara, but I don’t get why Badeea is an option but Liz isn’t. It’s not like Badeea is super popular in the fandom. I really hope some day my girl Liz would get the love she deserves.

Wait, wait, wait, wait... Stop, stop, stop.

This is happening during year 5, right?

Okay, I actually really like it because in my headcanon Barnaby remains good friends with Ismelda and Merula, so it fits perfectly.

Okay, let’s get back to the plot.

Is Badeea painting a Puffskein in the background?

(Once again the background sub-plot is more interesting than the main plot.)

Wow, the change in attitude once MC arrives is... Yikes.

Sure, JC. Merula likes MC. Very convincing.

Stop making me relate to Ismelda!

Again, I feel like I’m going to mention it a lot - it’s a year-5 SQ, JC!

You better not shove year-6 Ben down my throat.

Also, Rowan is nowhere to be found... You’re so damn lazy!

My angel deserves so much better than this... At least now I know that JC doesn’t give a shit about players that aren’t up-to-date with the latest chapters...

But why, though? I get why Penny, but Merula is not popular and she never showed any kind of social-initiative before. She wants to be the strongest witch, but it doesn’t have anything to do with a popularity-based title.

If I remember correctly. she criticized MC in one of the previous SQs for listening to Penny and said that power is more important than popularity.

So why would she want to win something that is completely dependent on a popularity status?

Oh right, it’s a JC game. There is no logic or consistency. Sorry. Carry on...

I was so bored, I didn’t even notice the “neither” choice...

Okay, let’s just be a supportive friend, then.

I mean, if it’s between Penny and Merula, then it’s a no-brainer.

But literally anyone else, and my answer would change. (Chiara FTW!)

Awww, see what I mean by her being a bro?

So damn supportive when she's not screwing everything up.

I-

I gotta say, I like this little Ravenclaw gathering.

I wish there were more activities for MC and the other characters from her house. Because even though Tulip is not technically a part of this, it’s still nice to have a scene with Talbott, Andre and Badeea.

Also, this skunk spell... Tulip is going to abuse it, I guarantee it.

To be fair, just making all the outfits is enough work already.

But wait, isn’t he a dateable option as well? I’m confused.

I said it before, but in these type of SQs, Andre is the best!

Of course she understands, mate. You deserve way more than you’re getting out of this whole deal, trust me.

Haha, Tulip’s blank stare in the background... Cue the “They ask you how you are, and you just have to say you're fine, when you're not really fine...” meme.

Can we all embrace a collective headcanon where Andre’s actually getting compensation for all his hard work?

Luna has enough money to spare, there’s no way this bloke is not getting paid for this.

That’s usually how it works, mate.

No, no, no... Please don’t make it that everyone’s pushing her into a corner again, it was so awkward!

I can’t go through it again...

Also, it’s Luna. She chooses her dates, not the other way around.

Called it!

Though, to be fair, who didn’t see it coming?

Guess...

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

Wow, they really didn’t give me a lot to work with, huh?

Well, the post is long enough, so... Hopefully there will be enough interesting stuff happening in the next post.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #festival fun sq #hphm mc #hphm year 5 #luna silver #andre egwu #badeea ali #talbott winger #tulip kasaru #nymphadora tonks #charlie weasley #rubeus hagrid

45 notes · View notes

mammon-money · 5 years

Text

(Obey Me x Fem!MC)

(Hello 😈 I've written slight unfinished stories before but this is my first time actually finishing one to post, so I hope you like it! )

You're unable to sleep as you toss and turn around your bed, still not use to Devildom. Mammon runs in trying to hide from Lucifer and ends up staying :)

Word count: 2250

Mammon × MC

“Ugh...” she groaned as she tossed in her bed for what felt like, and probably was, the hundredth time that night. It was now the middle of the night and she still had a hard time adapting to the Devildom atmosphere, even though she had already been here for about a month now.

As she lays there, facing the door, she hears it quickly and abruptly swing open. her eyes widen as it closes quickly, yet quietly. She sees a dark figure leaning against the door, grabbing his chest and gasping for air as he’s slowly sliding down.

“Mammon..?” she hesitantly sat up in her bed, staring at him.

“Oh MC...” he freezes, shooting his eyes open, “I was hopin’ ya weren’t gonna be awake...”

“Mammon, it's three in the morning, what happened?” she throws the covers off of herself and rushes to Mammon’s side, kneeling next to his defeated body and placing one hand on his shoulder and one on the lower part of the arm holding his chest.

He slowly calms at her touch, catching his breath and lowering his arm to his lap. “Well, haha... ya see,” after staring ahead oh himself for what seemed like forever, he began to answer her question. “I just got home and Lucifer was waitin’ for me.” he laughs to himself as he scratches the back of his neck with an awkward gesture.

She let go of his arm when he raised it up and moved back a little. “Why were you out so late? You know we have school tomorrow.” She realized that it was already past midnight, “Well, later today I guess.”

“Right, right. Sorry if I woke ya MC.” He looked down.

“No, no, it’s okay! I haven’t been able to get any sleep.” Now she was the one awkwardly laughing.

“Uh, MC?” Mammon broke her away from her awkward state and looked her in the eyes. “I, uh... can you maybe put some pants on or somethin'?” Mammon shot his gaze away and began to blush even more than before. The room was so dark that he hoped she hadn’t noticed.

She shocked and threw her hands over her mouth. She was so worried about Mammon that she had completely forgotten that she didn't have any pants on. She was wearing a large black t-shirt that Beelzebub had given to her to wear as pajamas since she came here with nothing but the clothes she was wearing.

"I- I'm- aaah!" She was a blushing mess, stammering as she rushed to her dresser and then to her bathroom to put on the gray and white pinstriped pajama shorts she had grabbed.

Mammon was giggling to himself, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he blushed while watching her run around her room like a chicken with it's head cut off.

She walked out of the bathroom, crossing her arms and glaring at Mammon. "What's so funny??"

"You can calm down, I didn't see anythin'. I was just makin' sure ya knew..." Mammon sat up straight.

She shot her head towards the ringing D.D.D. she had left on her nightstand. Mammon immediately stood up, curious as to who was calling her at this hour.

"Hey, what's up?" she answered quickly

"What's up with me? What's up with you! Are you okay? I heard you scream along with some rustling around in your room when I walked by on the way to the kitchen." It was Beel on the other line.

"haha yeah, I'm good. Thanks for checking up on me Beel." Mammon perked up at the sound of his brother's name coming out of her mouth.

"Are you sure? I can stop by your room on the way back up if you'd like." Mammon was now practically circling around her as the conversation continued on.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Goodnight Beel." She was about to hang up when Beelzebub spoke up once again.

"Oh, Mammon's not with you by any chance, is he? I just ran into Lucifer in the hallway and he said Mammon got home late but ran and hid from him."

She looked up a Mammon, who was still trying to get her attention away from the phone; not succeeding at the least.

"No, I haven't seen Mammon all night. He's not here." Mammon paused at the sound of his name in their conversation. That means now Beel was looking for him along with Lucifer.

"Oh, alright," Beel continued, "Lucifer says if he finds out Mammon is hiding out in there you'll both be in big trouble. and he also wants you to get back to sleep. Night." Beelzebub hung up the phone and she threw her phone on the bed.

She looked right up at mammon, who looked almost guilty now for getting her involved. "How come you didn't go straight to your own room?"

"If I went to my own room Lucifer would kill me! And it's not like he'd ever think to look in here for me anyway... right?"

"Mammon you idiot, you're in here 24/7! Not to mention that the two of us are practically glued together at the sides!" Mammon began to blush at the thought of always spending time with her.

"Anyway," she continued, "Luc said that we'll both be dead if he catches you hiding out in here. We need to get up for school in a couple of hours anyway so... why don't you just chill out in here for the rest of the night?" She was blushing so bright that she thought she looked like a red glowstick in the dark room. She had just hoped Mammon didn't see the image she portrayed of herself in her head, especially since he was just staring her down now.

"Wh- what? I mean, sure, yeah... Sure I'll stay." Mammon was blushing just as much as she was, blank-minded and speechless at the fact that she even asked him to stay.

After a while of just taking, it got silent. She was hanging upside down off the side of her bed to face Mammon, while he was sitting on the sofa not that far.

"Ya know, I really hope Lucifer went to bed." they both laughed.

"Mammon it's time to get ready now, your uniform is in your room, right?" she sat up on the bed.

"Shit! I completely forgot about that! Aaaahhgg!" Mammon threw his head back on the sofa and covered his eyes with one hand. "Lucifer better be sleepin' by now 'cause I gotta go get that."

"You can stay here while I get ready and then when I leave the room for breakfast you can make a break for it." Mammon started to blush again.

"Really? I can stay until then?" his eyes widened as she got up and walked over to him.

"Of course silly," she let out a slight giggle as she cupped his face. "That's what I said you could do in the first place" she planted a small kiss to his forehead.

Both of them paused. They were blushing for the hundredth time that night.

"Alright, well," she let go and began to nervously back away and collect her things. "I'm gonna take a quick bath and start to get ready"

"Yeah, o-okay" Mammon sat there baffled. He couldn't believe what just happened. He also didn't know what to do.

On the other hand, she bent over the bathroom counter and stared at her flushed self in the mirror. "What were you THINKING!" She had just kissed Mammon out of impulse and he did nothing about it! She didn't know whether to freak out over the fact that she had done it in the first place or the fact that he didn't even respond.

She sighed as she got into the bath, trying not to think about anything at all.

Mammon pulled out his D.D.D. in order to distract himself when he noticed a few missed messages and calls. One from Beel asking where he is, and all the rest from Lucifer.

Lucifer: Mammon where are you?

Lucifer: You are aware that you cannot hide forever, correct?

Lucifer: Once I find you you know there will be hell to pay

Lucifer: And if I find out you're in MC's room they'll be hell to pay for both.

Mammon felt a shiver down his spine. He didn't understand why it was even that big of a deal how late he got home. It's not like he was bothering anyone.

"What's your problem?" He looked up and saw her standing there. She was fresh out of the bath in her uniform, towel-drying her hair.

"Oh, it's nothin'. Just checked my phone for the first time in a while and there's a ton of missed calls and messages from Lucifer."

"Ah, well, "she sat down at her vanity and began to do her makeup. "don't let ol' Luc ruin your fun." He smiled at her through the reflection of the vanity mirror.

"Hey..." Mammon's voice trailed off. "Why'd ya kiss me?"

She slowly turned to him "what do you mean why?"

He was even more confused. Mammon was trying to keep his hopes low but she was making it harder than ever.

"Mammon, I don't know if you're aware, but I like you."

"Y-you wh-what?" Mammon jumped up off the sofa.

She laughed at his reaction. "Yes, I like you!"

Mammon ran over the vanity where she was now standing, picking her up and spinning her around. "I can't believe this!"

"Shh!" she giggled as he spun her, "Don't be so loud! Luc will hear you!"

He paused his tracks and set her down. "I like you too, MC! I have for a while..." He began to blush.

"I've liked you too Mammon, I was kinda hoping you'd make the first move though." she chuckled to herself, continuing her makeup.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry 'bout that." he rubbed the back of his neck as he sat back down.

"MC?" He chirped up again.

"Yeah?" she was now curling the ends of her long hair.

"Would you, uh- wanna be my girlfriend?" he was blushing yet again, but staring right at her reflection.

"of course Mammon," she turned in her chair and faced him, smiling, "I would love to be your girlfriend."

Mammon had now slipped into his room to get ready while she waited in the hallway.

"Oh, MC," Satan had come out of his room to go down for breakfast early. "What are you doing out in the hallway- and so early at that..?" A look of confusion covered her face.

"Oh, I'm waiting for mammon since we usually walk down together." she smiled.

"I see. Although I was under the impression that he never came home last night."

"He must've come home, he told me to meet me outside his room this morning for him like always." she felt Satan's gaze looking straight through her, as if trying to pick out the truth.

"Well then, carry on." he smiled and continued on his way to the dining table.

she felt a load of pressure lift off her chest. Soon after, Mammon came out. He had rushed to get ready and his tie was barely even considered a tie at that point.

She laughed and began to re-tie his tie.

"Well, you two seem awfully close this morning." Lucifer's voice had startled them.

"Oh, h-hey Lucifer," they both stood straight up and faced him.

"Good morning, Mammon. I presume you got some sleep last night? Considering you got back so late..." They knew he was pressuring them.

"Yep, of course."

"And good morning, MC. I would like to believe the same of you?" He looked her up and down.

"Good morning Lucifer," she took a small bow at the mention of his name. "It's been a little had to sleep since I've been living in Devildom, but I'll get used to it." she smiled at him.

Lucifer nodded, seemingly pleased with that answer. "Well then, I'll see you at breakfast." He continued on his way to the table. The others had passed during the conversation.

After Lucifer was out of sight, she grabbed Mammon's tie, pulling him down to her level. "H-hey, whaddya doin'?"

She smiled and gave him a little peck on the lips. "C'mon, let's get down to breakfast before we're in even more trouble."

"Ooo, MC! You're dressed up today!" Asmodeus drew attention to the two of them as they sat down in their seats.

"Haha, Thank you Asmo, you're too kind." she gave him a little wink as she served herself her food."

"So, what's the occasion?" Asmo wouldn't stop pestering until he got his deserved answer.

"Nothing in particular, just woke up early and had time. You know how it is."

"Uh-huh, sure." he rolled his eyes.

"You and Mammon are super close today too." Leviathan now inserted himself into the conversation.

"No, we're not, Levi!" Mammon yelled across the table.

"Deny it all you want Mammon, We all see it!" Asmo shot back

The morning brotherly squabbles made her happy. she began to laugh, and all the brothers slowly hushed while they turned and look towards her.

"Whaddya laughing at!?" Mammon blushed and the other boys began to giggle.

"I'm just happy to have you guys." Everyone smiled at her and she felt like she belonged there.

It was definitely best to tell them about Mammon and her another day.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know if it's too wordy or jumpy! I'd like to improve my writing so I can hopefully write another fic for you guys! 😈💕

#obey me #shall we date #shall we date obey me #shall we date? obey me #mammon #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon x oc #mammon x y/n #obey me fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #obey me fanfiction #mammon fanfiction #otome

228 notes · View notes

dreamingofscully · 4 years

Photo

5x12. “Bad Blood” - X-Files Rewatch

This post is going to be a bit different than all the others. Because Bad Blood is just so special. Above pictures are (some of) the funniest contrasts in the stories told by Scully (left) and Mulder (right). I’ll include others in my summary below the cut!

"That's not the way it happened at all. I mean, what are you afraid of? That if you tell it the way it really happened, that you'll look like an idiot, like me?" - Mulder, to Scully

Here's some opinion as opposed to observation. Bad Blood is maybe the best episode. It is just so brilliant. It's fantastic to see the story from both Mulder and Scully's perspectives, and see them in a more humorous and exaggerated light. They are both inaccurate in their own ways, but I think overall Scully's side is probably more correct, Mulder's being coloured by wanting to exaggerate his side because he loves LOVES trolling Scully and he's a bit miffed at her inaccuracies.

The teaser has to be the absolute best of the whole show. Well, except for all things.

Their facial expressions this entire episode.

Mulder kicking the garbage can. XD I love love LOVE this. Throughout the whole show you see him lashing out with physical violence when he's frustrated, and you see it manifested in such a light-hearted manner here.

"I didn't do the ... (She makes a stabbing motion) with the thing."

Gillian covering her face trying not to laugh. Do we have bad blood bloopers? I'm sure they are wonderous.

***

SCULLY’S VERSION

"C'mon Scully, get those little legs moving."

Mulder admiring the dead guy's clothes. He's so innappropriate haha.

Leaning close over the dead body.

Mulder's jealousy over Scully's flirtation with the Sheriff.

"Dana" LOL

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What am I even looking for?" - Scully (Mulder puts his hands on her shoulders.) "I don't know." - Mulder

Some Sheriff Hartwell flirtation analysis/relationship analysis

Scully enjoying attention from an attractive guy. We saw in Chinga, trying to get Mulder to react to her subtle hints of giving a gift to a "guy". He didn't take the hint. I'm SURE she's exaggerating her attraction in the story to make Mulder jealous. Also possibly still pissed at him, wanting to get a reaction out of him. A meaningless fling would take some of her pain away, perhaps, because he doesn't really matter to her - there are no emotions beyond lust. She enjoys being desired, as would any woman. Pursuing something with Mulder is dangerous because of how strong her feelings are. After Emily - she's hesitant to risk anything, to take any chances emotionally, because of how much pain it caused her to love someone only to lose them so shortly afterwards.

During Mulder's tale, he tells Scully "Never say I never did nothin' for ya", giving her some alone time with the Sheriff. indicating he's still not thinking he and Scully could ever be together. He thinks she deserves a normal guy, or at least someone who isn't him.

I love the autopsy scenes. Scully talking about stomach contents like it sounds delicious, then ordering the same thing later. Scully is WEIRD you guys, and I love it. Someone like this just ... doesn't stop being weird. Doesn't change specialties so drastically. She LOVES this shit you guys.

"I just put money in the magic fingers!"

Jumping on the bed with her and laughing evilly. Poor Scully.

When Scully figures out the pizza was laced, her concerned gasp and "Mulder!"

Doctoring him in the room, touching his face when he's lying on the floor.

"Shaft!" LOL

Standing close when they argue about her version.

*** MULDER’S VERSION

Scully's look making Mulder feel like a moron. He's so nice and concilliatory in his version, haha.

"Well, it's obviously not a vampire." - Scully "Well, why not?" - Mulder "Because they don't exist?" - Scully

“Hoo boy.” - Scully, at Sheriff Hartwell

Mulder giving the Sheriff buck teeth. 😆 Jealous much?

Prattling off knowledge about the history of vampires. He knows how to stretch out a tale - keeps delaying telling Scully about the meaning of the shoelaces.

Scully's "Why skip ahead? What happened then? (silence) Mulder? You shot out the tires, and what then?" XD Mulder (AND the Sheriff) can't shoot, which is where the trope comes from perhaps? Contrast with Scully's incredible marksmanship from the previous episode.

Mulder's puppy dog eyes when he comes to Scully's room all muddy.

"What do you mean you want me to do another autopsy?! And why do I have to do it right now?! I just spent hours on my feet doing an autopsy, all for you. I do it all for you, Mulder. You know, I haven't eaten since 6:00 this morning, and all that was, was a half a cream cheese bagel, and it wasn't even real cream cheese, it was light cream cheese. And now you want me to run off and do another autopsy? What the hell happened to you?"

"Finally you left" ouch. 😥 Mulder's pretty bitter about the Sheriff so he's definitely making Scully look worse than she is. TBF Scully made Mulder look pretty random and nonsensical in hers.

Mulder using Scully's room/bathroom. In his tanktop + boxers. *heart eyes* Also, they agree on pizza toppings. IT'S MEANT TO BE!!!

Concedes that he ate her dinner. 😆

Her "Creep" in Mulder's version of the phone call Scully got at the morgue, haha.

*** AFTER THEIR STORIES

Walking close in the cemetery. Putting his arm around her neck when giving her the alone time with the Sheriff.

Drugged Scully.

Mulder riding the coffin.

Examining her neck at the end. Where des he put his hands after that??

"That is ... essentially, exactly the way it happened." - Mulder "Essentially." - Scully

The ending with Skinner must be EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY FINISH A CASE. Which makes it funnier. 😆

#xfiles #x-files #x-files rewatch #x files rewatch #mulder and scully #msr #msrheadcanon #fox mulder #dana scully #season 5 #vince gilligan #top 10 episodes

133 notes · View notes

ichigo-kamome · 3 years

Text

Start Over - Imagine Dragons - Sakuatsu One Shot

Okay HI GUYS so first post

(wow how cool)

I wanted to do a little writing exercise and shuffle a playlist I really enjoy and then write for characters based on the song. So, Start Over by Imagine Dragons was my first song <3 here’s a link to the song!! https://open.spotify.com/track/2Iug43iQrHN8CbGsUd2tEt?si=CrDSFtEpRKe1UkYojJwWiQ&dl_branch=1

This is just going to be a quick one shot because I can only listen to a song on repeat so many times before wanting to scream, so it stops whenever I get annoyed of the song :) ig this is angst with like a good ending? IDEK HAHA BUT ENJOY!!

oh and there is a bit of language in this? :,D also I didn’t edit this because I didn’t have time to so my apologies for unintentional grammar mistakes and misspellings! :,>

The plane was filled with hardly any noise at all, but in Atsumu’s mind there was a storm of noise, emotion, and words. So many words. Words he was told, words he said, words he shouldn’t have said, words he should have said.

Actions. Ones he did take, ones he didn’t take, all of them ran through his mind faster than the plane was soaring in the air. The silence around him felt entirely deafening, and there was nothing he could do in this moment but sit there and replay the memories of the past night.

He was more than aware that he had royally messed up. Sakusa Kyoomi had informed him of that. Yet, his own ego rendered him completely blind the moment he heard such words.

“You care so much about appearances, yet you refuse to work on your own. Becoming a better version of yourself on the court is something you’re more than willing to do, but outside of that? Where the public eye is blind to? Well, so are you.”

Those words replayed countless times, echoing off walls and coming back to him. It was all he could think about. How he had done Omi wrong, and how all he wanted to do was fix their situation.

However, that wasn’t exactly possible in the present situation.

Miya Atsumu was on an airplane with no cell service, and he would be stuck there for multiple hours. It felt like hell, having to sit there for so long with his own thoughts and the words that he heard last night. The words that were true. Then again, it wasn’t all a bad thing that he had to reflect on the situation.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was also left alone with his own thoughts, emotions, the words that were spoken last night. This odd feeling of the presence and absence of regret plagued him in his isolation. He knew that what he said needed to get to Atsumu in some way.

Lately, the setter had been so concerned with who he was on the court that he had forgotten to examine his character off the court. Of course, this led to mistakes, apologies, more mistakes, more apologies, an endless cycle of hurting those around him, and Sakusa left alone many nights in which he shouldn’t have been. The pain he felt wasn’t sharp, however. It was more of a dull, emotionless pain that caused him to feel somewhat repulsed.

“Ya shouldn’t be hangin’ around someone who makes you feel like trash, right? So, I’ll do the honors and kindly fuck off for a while. See how ya like it, Omi.” He still was dumbfounded by those words. He knew Miya to be someone who would sometimes speak first without fully evaluating how it would effect the other party, but he didn’t realize just what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of those comments.

Sakusa and Atsumu had a relatively healthy relationship. Of course, they had their disagreements, but there had never been an explicit moment in which Sakusa could remember that Miya would have the chance to lash out so harshly.

That’s a good thing, at least. It’s only happened once. He thought.

But, how long until it happens again?

Omi felt his heart sink and he sighed, trying not to think too much about that right now.

What if there isn’t an “again”?

---

Again. A word Sakusa didn’t seem to be fond of in the recent weeks. Atsumu had always made the same mistakes, again. He had always been out too late with other people, again. He had always come home the next morning, again. Apologized, again. Said he’s never do it, again.

But now, the word had new meaning. If there was no again for Atsumu to hurt him, would that mean that he had moved on? Would that mean his leaving was final and there wouldn’t be any risk to get hurt again?

There was always a risk to get hurt. Sakusa knew that full well. And, he knew there was a risk to get hurt repeatedly. However, if there was no risk, that meant there was no Atsumu. While he didn’t like risk, he didn’t like the idea of never being able to say “I love you,” again to his best friend.

Miya Atsumu had been gone for a couple weeks for training in another country. He had been so far, and yet all he wanted to do was go back home to the people he cared about.

He had messed up so many times. He had his “fall” and realized he sure as hell didn’t like how lonely it was on the bottom. The people he had neglected to care about recently weren’t there, and everything that came along with promise was so far from that. He didn’t want to be there and longer, and knew he had to change his habits and lifestyle outside of the court to better himself and lend more towards those he truly cared for.

One of those people being Sakusa Kiyoomi.

God, I need to call him before my flight back home, was all he could think. He was sitting in the airport with less than 5 minutes until he was to board. I have time, he thought.

He grabbed his phone and dialed Sakusa’s number by instinct. Omi <3 read the contact. He hesitated only slightly. Maybe this is better to settle in person. A phone call isn’t the best way to discuss this, especially when I only have so much time.

He sucked in a deep breath. There was no way he could do this properly

“But, I hafta at least try.”

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Damn, Omi, pick up...

Four

Five.

“Hello?” He heard at last.

“OMI!” Atsumu practically shouted in the middle of the air port. People turned their heads towards him dramatically, some looking aggravated, some confused, some about to laugh. He didn’t care. The noise in his mind had already been that loud, so he had hardly noticed the stark contrast when he spoke at such a loud volume.

“Ow, okay, no need to shout. It’s a phone call, I’m right here. Why did you call?” Omi said monotonously. Atsumu felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and all at once he wanted to hit the large red button on his phone screen and pretend he never called and their argument never happened and everything was okay. However, that would get them nowhere. That’s not what Atsumu wanted.

“Heya, uhm, I don’t exacly have a lot of time?”

“Mm. Figures.”

“But all I’ve been able ta think about lately is how ya were so right.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi wished he had been recording this call, because he might not ever hear those words again. Before, it was always ‘I was wrong,’ never, ‘you were right.’

“And I’ve been treatin’ like so much less than ya deserve. Yer one of my favorite people, Omi, and I have don’t nothin to show that ta ya.”

Silence for the first time in two weeks.

“I wanna do better by ya. And, I don’t have a lot of time ta get into details because I board the plane shortly... and I don’t expect an immediate answer from ya, but, can try again?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t push your luck, you heard me the first time. Get home safely.”

“Oh. And, of course, we can talk more about it later and everything, because I still have a lot ta say and I wanna hear what you hafta say too because what you wanna say is important to me an-”

“Miya?”

“Yes?” he sucked in a breath, holding it in the absence of conversation.

A pause.

“Get home safely. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Yeah, you got it. Me too.”

“Goodbye. See you soon.” A beep.

“Bye, Omi. Cya soon.”

#sakuatsu #oneshot #haikyuu #unedited #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #haikyu #haikyuu fanfiction #angst #idk what i'm doing honestly #but i'm kind of proud of this ngl #maybe i should do this more often #or maybe it will never happen again #good luck trying to figure it out #haha ty for reading <3 #Spotify

3 notes · View notes

slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Text

Mayor Buckman x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: (This is set right after the events of the last drabble, Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbian!Reader except this is a completely different reader and we follow Buckman after he left that drabble) You multitask running a bar on a Friday night, fending off Hank (An OC I guess?) who’s self-proclaimed love for you can be a real hassle, and comforting the mayor on a bad night.

Warnings: Reader gets harassed, but its not a threatening kind of harassment. Hank’s just annoying and you can handle it.

~~~

“Hank, go home.”

“But love! - love, stop wiping down the tables. St- Stop it. I- I’m trying to profess my love to you baby!” The man falters, as you continue to finish wiping off a table and move on to the next empty one to take the empty glasses. “Come, come on… “

“No time, Hank.” You roll your eyes, getting back behind the bench, putting the glasses by the sink and, just as the man raises his finger as if asking to talk again you drop down to your knees to grab a new rag. “Very busy!”

“Honey, I love you!”

“So, so, busy!” For god’s sake, Hank! Get the hint!

“But! -“

“Excuse me Hank, thank you. Y/N, rum if you please?”

Hank looks unsure, stepping back and letting Mayor Buckman sit down in the stool he was blocking as you get up and flash the harasser a ‘Oh, what can I do???’ kind of smile and shrug combo. Hank looks at the mayor, looking almost defeated. He’s been up to this business all day, it’s about time he gives up! “Mayor!”

“Coming right up, Mr Mayor.” Quickly turning to get the bottle off the shelf and a clean glass, you ignore whatever Hank’s now doing for a moment. You’re sure he’s looking wounded again and mopey but that’s not really your problem, now is it? Finishing up pouring a nice big pint for the mayor, you turn around and see both men doing the exact same thing- the picture of vanquishment. Two sad sacks sitting side by side with their elbows on the bench. Hank, holding his pounding head and Buckman rubbing his eyes.

It honestly makes you want to laugh a little bit; But, you’re a professional. And as bartender, you are also the town therapist.

“Your rum.” You set down the drink in front of Buckman and he quickly wraps his hands around it, dragging it towards him. Staying busy, you start washing the dirty glasses from before with no need to plan your next movements table-wise. You’ve been doing this for years, so you have a system. In a moment, you’ll hit tables 2, 4 and 6 to ask if the parties there need refills, then see off tables 7 and 5 who were just having dinner and then have nothing much to do since all the parties are going to need are refills from then on.

So plenty of drunk therapy time.

Drying the glasses, you turn around back to the bar to see Hank drop his face into the wooden bench and Buckman finish his drink and push the glass back, tapping the rim for more. Well, I know whats wrong with Hank… Sighing, you tilt your head at him. “What’s up, Mr Mayor? Paperwork getting you down again?”

“No… “He rubs under his nose. “Just… ah… women troubles, I suppose… “Buckman rolls his eyes

Hanks sits up straight, pouts with a splinter in his nose and hits the bench. “Talk to me about it, brother.”

“Calm down there Hank.” You deadpan, before tapping your nose and looking meaningfully at him and returning to your mayor as Hank finds for the splinter and winces. Your furrow your eyebrows sympathetically to Buckman as you put down the glass you were drying and pour him more rum. “Sorry to hear that sir. Granny Boone and you are having trouble?”

“Nothing that we haven’t always had.”

… Oh.

OH. Oh.

You clear your throat, trying not to give anything away to Hank who’s listening. You know all about Boones lover; you should have known it was about her. The lady comes in here every now and then to drink and she let slip once about what’s going on between the 3 of them, and it was big news for you to hear - still is, actually, -, your jaw nearly hit the floor when she said it, but you moved on. Such is your creed as a barkeep; Besides, that was definitely not the craziest, and most certainly not the most horrible secret, that you’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing about in this post.

“Uhm, you mean, the other woman?” Buckman’s eyes blow open and he opens his mouth to shut you up as Hank raises an eyebrow in surprise and curiosity. You wink and smirk when Hank is looking at Buckman instead of you, leaning on the bench and hoping he gets the hint. “Theodosia? Your perfect purebread? Gorgeous, silky black main?”

Hank makes an ‘Oh’ face and nods; That makes more sense, doesn’t it? A horse. Horses are always getting between wives and their husbands. And its not a surprise at all that, with a horse like Theodosia, Buckman would show favouritism. Right?

Hm. I’m so clever.

Feeling Hank calm down beside him, Buckman relaxes also and looks at your cautiously, cradling his glass again. “Yeah, Boone just doesn’t get a man’s relationship with his horse. There ain’t nothin’ I can say to explain it to her.”

You shrug, getting out a glass and holding it out to Hank, raising your eyebrows. He nods and smiles widely at you, so you pour him some rum as well and slide it over to him. “Well, I myself don’t understand your predicament truly- I mean, I’m not involved. But I am sorry for it.” What do you say in a situation like this? ‘Tough break, bro’? “Sucky, truly, ah…” Nope, that’s worse. “Sucky… “Don’t say it again! “Uhm, I mean… Tough… tough break, bro?”

Oh my god.

You take a deep breath and compose yourself, holding the bar. When you open your eyes to give Buckman a half smile so he knows its okay to laugh at you, you’re surprised to see he doesn’t look ready to make fun of you at all. He’s looking at you rather kindly, actually- maybe not like he feels much better about his situation because of your words, but maybe like the effort you made was cute.

Smiling, he pats your hand. “I appreciate the effort, Y/N.”

You grin brightly back. “No problem!”

Hank looks between the two of you a couple times, mouth setting in a firm frown and a look of displeasure deeply creases his forehead. Leaning forward, he sticks himself right close to Buckman so their arms touch and he’s definitely within the little bubble you the Mayor found yourselves in. Buckman doesn’t move. “Hey Y/N.”

“Yes Frank?”

“Hank!”

Oh right! Rats. Back to life. Wake up, Y/N! That breaks you out of the moment. You turn and smile apologetically at Hank, pouting and just all around looking completely mopey about the situation. “Oh! Sorry Hank, haha. Another drink, is it?”

Damn the mayor and his cuteness- Because that’s all that was. A moment of appreciation.

You blow air out of your cheeks as you turn for the rum again without an answer from Hank, widening your eyes at the same time. Better be, at least…

“Uh, yeah, sure darlin’! And, to remind you sweetheart! -Of our date! Tomorrow! I made us plans I did, at Granny Boone’s bed and breakfast! We’ll have brunch- all fancy like. OH! Sorry, Mr Mayor, should I not talk about her?” You roll your eyes, laughing just enough that air puffs out of your mouth and your shoulders jump once at Hank’s lack of subtlety. Turning around, you even catch the boy looking wide eyed, with high concerned eyebrows at Buckman, grabbing his arm. Buckman’s giving him a pinched smile, peeling his hand off of him and assuring him its absolutely fine.

At least, you think. He’s not on Buckman’s lap anymore.

Or pulled the mayor up onto his lap. You make a sudden sour face, pouring rum yet again, and shudder. Ugh, you’ve been there, unfortunately. Its not the most pleasant place to be. Or maybe that extra lump was just for me… God almighty Y/N, stop thinking about Hank’s lump, it’ll give you nightmares.

“Here you go, Hank.” Crossing your arms on the bench on leaning on them, you wink. “And don’t you worry; There’s no need to get all to get all bent outta shape over George- I’m just, appreciating the view.”

Hank’s mouth drops open and at your use of the mayor’s first name, jumping to conclusions that you knew he would, making you start to laugh. But you grin and have to look away to protect your face - your blush, -, at Buckman’s reaction to your words. Your, what could be, possibly, if you s q u i n t, flirt. His eyebrows have risen in surprise, but there is nothing innocent about how he’s smirking. “’George’?!-“

Immediately you sober up, cutting off the flirty attitude before you lose yourself, or say something you, and Buckman would regret. You take a deep breath, yank your rag off your shoulder with a finesse the practise of something unbelievably mundane over and over gets you and head towards tables 2, 4 and 6. “And we’re not going on any brunch tomorrow Hank, Jesus. Get it together.”

#Mayor Buckman x Reader Drabble #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Drabble #Mayor Buckman #Granny Boone

28 notes · View notes

jubilantwriter · 3 years

Text

No Idiots Were Harmed in the Making of His Reality

(AO3) (First) (Epilogue)

Summary: The gang goes to an unnamed popular fast food joint after Pico commits mass murder in the name of protecting his duo of idiots. And this is the thanks he gets.

Or: An unfortunate fast food employee gets the misfortune of meeting the trio in their finest hour.

Word Count: 2127

////

There’s only so much a job description can prepare one for. For instance: making burgers, serving customers, taking orders, so on and so forth. That’s what this minimum wage job suggested she would be doing. But it didn’t come with the fine print. It didn’t tell her that she’d be making burgers, sandwiches, chicken nuggets, fries, so on and so forth under pressure as customers ranged from dead-inside but patient patrons to Karen levels of impatient and entitled. There’s caveats, little sidebars, unmentioned stressors that go overlooked because her job is solely to serve the people shitty, shitty burgers.

And it barely even helps her pay rent. The things she’s seen on the job only serves to make her wonder how long it’ll take for her to become either bitter and jaded or completely desensitized by the bullshit this hellish existence can throw at her. Maybe it’ll be a mix of both.

The door opens and swings shut with a heavy, muted thud. Cashier Girl looks up, already exhausted two hours into her shift as she catches sight of the next batch of cus-

Oh. Oh no. Oh no, they look like trouble.

A tall, bubbly young lady in a figure hugging dress smiles sweetly in that, “I’m going to try really hard not to create problems on purpose for you”, sort of way, which happens to be Cashier Girl’s favorite kind of customer. Granted, this girl looks nothing like trouble. She looks like the exact opposite of trouble. But the two men she has in tow makes Cashier Girl think twice about lowering her guard around the pretty girl.

Standing next to her is some dude with cyan-colored hair, a red cap turned backwards in a very dudebro kind of way. He dresses sloppily, like he just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever happened to be in reach, which also just so happened to be the same clothes he wore the day before. His clearly white shirt is stained with something… she hopes is nothing but the results of him being a messy eater. Or maybe he got into a knife fight and won? That has to be the answer for the mysterious, rusty stains and splatters on the right side of his shirt.

However, the one who really sets off her anxiety radar is the taller young man standing next to the cyan shortie. The guy is covered in blood. Not only that, but she’s pretty sure he’s toting at least two guns on his person. And to top it off, he’s wearing a sweater vest and a turtleneck in this kind of weather! Granted, it is a bit chilly, but that level of layering just feels like overkill. He glowers with his arms folded over his chest, clearly hating everything about this experience. Is that dried blood on his face? That is absolutely dried blood all over his face.

Cashier Girl sucks in a deep breath through her teeth and puts on a well practiced smile. “Hello! May I take your order?”

“Yes please! Um,” the lady in red nudges the shorter man with a smile, “what were we going to order again?”

“Beep!”

...Beep?

“Oh! Right! Can we get the 2 for $5 deal?”

She could understand all of that from a single beep?! “Of course! And what would you like?”

“Badoop.” The cyan-haired man nudges the blood covered ginger, and boy, did it look like Little Boy Blue was poking a stick at an angry bear. “Skdeep!”

Having been in the industry for a long, two years has given Cashier Girl the ability to see when someone is about to take a dive into the deep end fairly quickly. The ginger twitches an eye, lips pulled into a snarl as he breathes out a little too deeply. Not quite like a sigh, but like a bull about to charge headfirst into a china shop on purpose. He sucks in a harsh breath through gritted teeth and hunches his shoulders up. Oh wow, he’s really restraining himself.

“Just get me…” And of course Probably a Murderer understood everything Little Boy Blue said. “The nugs and burg.”

With the way he’s restraining himself, she wants to believe that he once worked in the same industry as her. No wonder he’s a murderer. Good for him, good for him. Doing what the rest of them can’t do.

“Alright! And is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Hmm.” Pretty Miss Sunshine looks over to Little Boy Blue who shakes his head before turning back to face Cashier Girl. “I think that’s it!”

“Alright, your total comes to $5.40.”

“Beep!” Little Boy Blue pipes up excitedly and starts digging around in, what she assumes is, his back pocket. The short man pulls out a crumpled, moist-looking five dollar bill. He straightens it out, and Cashier Girl swears that a good quarter of the bill is stained with blood. Probably a Murderer must have noticed the blood too, because he suddenly stiffens and glares at Little Boy Blue.

“...Boyfriend.” Oh shit, are they dating? Is Miss Sunshine just a lady friend of theirs? “Isn’t that the fuckin’ money I lent to you a couple weeks back?”

Oh damn. Cashier Girl looks between Blue and Murderer, Blue either oblivious to Murderer’s growing rage or too wildly confident that the bloodstained ginger won’t actually hurt him. As interesting as the tension may be, she still needs the forty cents to complete their order.

“Sir-”

“Ba beep!” Boy Blue nods vigorously, but she knows it’s not towards her. Murderer lets out a long, aggrieved sigh as he massages his temples.

“So. You’re tellin’ me.” He points to the money on the counter and back at Boy Blue. “You spent… how long at my apartment? Botherin’ me for some extra cash for food, refusin’ to leave for a good few hours, and then completely forgettin’ about gettin' the fuckin’ food you were supposed to get? After I gave you the goddamn money?”

“Oh, I remember that day!” Pretty Miss Sunshine speaks up a little too cheerily given the mood. “We were supposed to get some Chinese takeout, so Boyfriend disappeared for a bit to ask you for some extra money since he was short some.” Wait, are they all dating each other? What the hell? “But Boyfriend came back looking all happy and without any food, and when I asked where the food was, he said he totally forgot! We ended up just using Daddy’s credit card since I remembered I still had it, so we still got food in the end.” Miss Sunshine beams brightly at the flabbergasted Murderer. “You don’t need to worry about that!”

“That’s not what I was pissed about!” For a yell worthy statement, Murderer does an awfully good job at keeping his voice reasonably leveled in this shitty fast food restaurant. “And you had a credit card this entire time?! Why do you fucks keep comin’ over to my place to ask for cash?!”

“Ohhh, well, Daddy took it back after he found out I still had it. But now I’m borrowing from Mommy instead-”

“Oh, so you just have another credit card you could be usin’ instead of my money-”

“Excuse me,” Cashier Girl says as politely as possible, seeing how Murderer’s hand is twitching over one of his guns, “but you still haven’t paid the full amount.”

“Boop!” Boy Blue quickly begins to dig through his pockets, his confident smirk slowly morphing into a stricken grimace as his movements grow more frantic. “Sk-skido, bap de doop-”

“Do not fuckin’ tell me you do not have forty fuckin’ cents.”

Ohhhh shit. Cashier Girl feels torn between wanting to see Murderer fucking snap because man, they really are just running his patience into the GROUND, and wanting her goddamn forty cents so that she can move on with these customers. Murderer’s face turns a bright shade of red as he inhales a deep breath through his nostrils and breathes out heavily through gritted teeth once more, the process repeating a few times before he reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a ratty wallet that’s literally being held together with duct tape. Quietly, they all watch as he shakes some coins out and carefully counts out forty cents exactly.

“There,” he says softly in that tone she recognizes from parents who are this close to losing their absolute shit towards their children, “five fucking dollars and forty cents.”

Cashier Girl looks up and sees Miss Sunshine finally starting to sweat just a bit. Still, she keeps up her cheerful demeanor as she addresses Cashier Girl. “I think we’re good now, right?”

“Uh, yes!” She takes the money and tries to get a read on Murderer to see if this shift will be her last one, but he’s got his arms crossed as he stares directly ahead. The stony expression can only spell doom for the two standing next to him. “Your number is 69,” haha nice, “and your order will be out shortly!”

“Babeep! Pi-!” Blue probably tries to make the same comment that Cashier Girl internally made to Murderer, but he’s quickly shut down by the dark glare Murderer shoots down. He quickly laughs nervously and clears his throat, rubbing his arm as he looks away sheepishly. “H-hm… bop.” Blue takes the receipt and nods his thanks, going over to stand by one of the dividers with Miss Sunshine in tow. Murderer, however, remains where he stands, now making uncomfortable eye-contact with her. Anger still rolls off of him in waves, but she’s starting to wonder if being angry is just his default.

“Oi,” he begins, and she quickly glances behind him to see if there are any other customers behind him. None. She’s not sure if she’s disappointed or a bit glad that there’s no one standing behind him. “Honest opinion - you think this joint is a good enough reward for savin’ their asses?”

Oh boy. Cashier Girl has no idea what he means by “savin’ their asses”, but if he means it literally then… She sucks in a breath through her teeth and tries not to grimace. He grunts in response and squeezes his eyes shut with a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, thought so. Really shouldn’t have taken them at their word when they said, ‘their treat’. Ain’t nothin’ been their treat so far.”

Oof. That’s right. That five was originally his that Boy Blue was supposed to pay back, and the forty cents were definitely his. The guy basically treated himself by force. They both share a silent look before he sighs heavily. As much as she’d kind of like to hear more of this dude’s story and why he’s even friends (datemates? They did call Little Boy Blue, “Boyfriend”, after all) with them, she still has a job to do, and chatting with customers for longer than a certain, nondescript time could get her in trouble. However, much to her relief, the ginger takes the initiative wordlessly and wanders back to the pair, sulking in his blood soaked clothes.

Despite clearly looking like a group of troublemakers (especially Murderer), the three keep to themselves, Blue and Sunshine chatting amongst themselves and nudging Murderer every once in a while in some dangerous gambit to get his attention. Each time they do that, he grips his arms tightly, before stiffly looking over to them as they jabber on about something Cashier Girl can’t hear. All he does is nod and look away, intent on focusing on some spot on the wall and practice what she assumes is deep breathing exercises. For a dude covered in blood, he’s doing a real good job at showing restraint.

Finally, their number is called. Little Boy Blue grabs the bag with glee and nods his thanks to her co-worker before heading back to the group. He practically thrusts the bag into Murderer’s face, and the ginger looks ready to bite his hand off when he catches sight of Blue and Sunshine’s faces. They both look so… genuinely hopeful? Like some shitty nuggets and a burger will be enough to quell his fury. Cashier Girl is about to suck in a sharp breath when his expression softens. He takes the bag and almost manages a smile, before seeing the blood on Little Boy Blue’s clothes and hardening his expression back into an annoyed glower.

They all leave without much fanfare. The door slams behind them as she hums to herself, thinking back to this strange group of people who made less trouble than she expected. A smirk rises to her face before she schools it for the next batch of customers.

At least she knows now why he still hangs out with those friends of his. What a softie.

#friday night funkin #fnf #fnf boyfriend #fnf girlfriend #fnf pico #this was posted to ao3 a looong time ago so it's about time i posted it here #cashier girl my beloveeeeed #a working class hero she is #my friend wanted to see this scene and gosh da r n it #so did i #so here it is #he's so mad

5 notes · View notes

bigbrotherlouis · 4 years

Note

for director’s cut: the raleigh/airport scene in ‘i can’t find nothin’...’ if you would like to!!!!

ANGELA you’re gonna make me talk about sex scenes on main?! let’s DO IT

(director’s cut meme)

andrei understands, on some level, why they have to fly commercial, (i’m always going to make players fly commercial in fic if i can. direct action.) even with a job like theirs, but in practicality, when he’s wandering around the raleigh airport at six am after their flight out is delayed, he doesn’t.

marty’s laughing at him in the way that means he’s trying to be subtle about it, but andrei’s too grumpy to care. (this was for la.) it’s too fucking early and the line for coffee is too fucking long.

“it’s too early,” he whines. marty flips over the book in his hands to read the back cover.

“boo fuckin’ hoo, bud.”

“i’m tired.” and again, in russian, “я устал.”

“не— не— i don’t care,” (i couldn’t remember how to phrase this properly and i didn’t want to look it up, plus it’s funny) marty snaps back. “it’s your own fault for watching tv until one in the morning.”

“it was gossip girl,” he mutters. “important american culture.” (in one of my transition workshops where we learned to handle moving countries, we watched mean girls as an example of american culture. true story.)

“uh huh, and degrassi is exactly how canadian high school was like.” (didn’t like the flow on this sentence but i couldn’t figure out how else to phrase it. oh well.)

andrei is, like, ninety percent sure marty didn’t finish high school in canada, but he’s not willing to take the chance that he’s wrong and get teased about it. “please, can we go to starbucks now? давай, давай.” [let’s go, let’s go] (translation is always a struggle, and even more so when it’s a different alphabet like russian. i decided to include translations when context isn’t immediately clear for the reader’s comfort. also, this is something my family does-- use a different language when we want to stress something, like svechy stressing that he wants to leave)

“talking in russian won’t get me to go any faster, svechy,” marty says, placid for the early morning, and shoves a book into andrei’s hands. “here. read this and distract yourself.”

“i don’t read until i awake.” (svechy’s syntax was hard for me to write, because i want it to be clear, true to character, and respectful all at once which is hard to balance. it’s why svech’s grammar can sometimes seem a little inconsistent-- sometimes, i chose respect and readability over true to characterization. also, transliteration of accents can make people seem childish or dumb which is absolutely not what i want!)

“sucks to suck.”

andrei grumbles under his breath, a mixture of russian and english and some of sebastian’s favourite swedish (this should be finnish. oops.) curses thrown in there too, absently drumming his fingers on the cover of the book he’s still holding. marty is paying him no attention, which almost bothers him as much as the lack of caffeine does.

he’s cocking his head to read the spines of the books in the airport store when he feels the heat of someone step behind him, too close for politeness, and he’s whirling before he can even really think about it. (there really aren’t a lot of places spies can meet up by accident without getting too repetitive, especially in something that’s supposed to be silly and short, but an airport felt plausible.)

“whoa,” says joel, stepping back out of andrei’s elbows. “easy there.”

“joel?”

“in the flesh,” he says with a grin, and andrei’s thinking about how twice is a coincidence but three times is a pattern when (this is me lampshading their constant meetups because i didn’t feel like expounding on it LOL)— “is that twilight?”

“i— what?”

“the book you’re reading.”

andrei looks down at his hands and then scowls in the general direction of the shelves. fucking marty. (this is the whole reason they’re in the bookstore. for me to make this joke about svech holding twilight.)

joel tips his head to the side and grins wider. “didn’t peg (haha peg) you for a vampire guy, but i can see it. wait, fuck, are you from transylvania?” (apologies to americans but this is a little jab at your general geography abilities)

“no, not in in russia,” he says absently. “siberia, yes. transylvania, no. why you here?”

“well, i just like to lurk around airports for fun. you see interesting people like this.”

“really.”

joel snorts. “no, i have a flight, dumbass. i’m a business bitch.” (my rule of thumb for writing joel’s dialogue is to think of the most ridiculous thing i can imagine a person saying in any given circumstance and then assigning him that line.)

“a business bitch?”

“yeah, dude. makin’ money moves n’shit.”

“you’re not following me?” andrei asks, aiming for teasing, pretending it’s not a real question. (more lampshading. i was lazy.) joel makes his eyes go wide and innocent, and mostly doesn’t succeed.

“andrew,” he says, outraged. “are you accusing me of being a stalker?”

“yes.”

“oh, so you’re definitely team edward. (this joke fell into my lap) i see how it is. can’t a bro say hi to his bro in an airport, especially after getting a decent brojob the last time they saw each other?”

andrei mouths the word brojob (i crack up every time this term is used and joel would absolutely say it) and then shakes his head. “no.”

“tough crowd. what are you doing here, buddy?”

“waiting for marty to finish so we can go to starbucks. too early and he is too slow.”

“yeah?” joel looks over at where marty is now examining the overpriced souvenirs with a very careful air, taking them off the shelves and putting them gently back. (i was very into this image) “wanna go stand in line with me?” (high romance there, bee)

strictly speaking, marty and andrei are supposed to be together when travelling, just in case someone gets snatched. it’s happened before, but andrei really, really wants something to drink before they fly out to fucking vancouver, or wherever they’re going. he can’t even remember. besides, if joel was going to snatch him, he would’ve done it earlier, in the hotel when andrei was fucked out and happy. he shrugs. (listen. i didn’t want to do any worldbuilding because it was a fun au so i did the bare minimum.)

“sure. marty, i go to stand in line,” he yells and marty waves a hand without looking up. the line stretches down the hallway, too many people patiently waiting for a rush. (i’m so familiar with this and it makes me sad just writing about it) andrei can’t fault them; he’s tired too, which is why he doesn’t realise that joel’s pulling him towards the bathrooms instead of the coffee shop, pushing him into the family stall and shoving the door closed. (i’m gonna be honest: i have absolutely no idea why i made this a sex scene. like none. i remember being halfway through and being like “....i’m writing?? airport sex??” but i don’t remember why i decided it was a good idea.)

for a second, andrei thinks this is when he gets kidnapped and killed, a rival taking him out in the crowded airport where no one can see. the bulgarian maneuver would’ve been a lot less conspicuous, but oh well. (this is referring to the bulgarian assassins who killed a journalist in the 80s? i think? with a poison-tipped umbrella and i’m just now realising that’s probably not common knowledge)

instead, joel clicks the lock in place and presses up close, plastered to the front of andrei.

“wha—” says andrei, but it’s swallowed up in joel’s mouth, swallowed up in the kiss that joel gives him. he kisses back, of course he does, because it’s a fucking good kiss. joel hums, coaxing his mouth open for a minute and then biting on his lower lip before pulling away. he doesn’t go far, hands skimming down andrei’s body until he drops to his knees on the dirty bathroom floor.

“we are in a toilet,” andrei hisses. “in an airport.” (svech has the practical response)

joel shrugs, giving him the biggest shit-eating grin as he undoes his belt. (joel is never not going to be smug) “guess you have to be fast, then. besides, i owe you one.”

technically, he still got off last time, even if it was pretty basic, it’s not like andrei’s going to say no, not when joel is looking so eager and mischievous.

“don’t make too much noise,” instructs joel, (i realised after i posted the fic that both blowjobs start with someone giving instructions and i’m gonna say it’s because it’s a literary parallel and not because i don’t know how to transition into sexual acts) and then he’s got his mouth on andrei’s dick and andrei can’t think of anything else to say. he bangs his head against the door and clamps a hand over his mouth, digging his fingers of his other hand into the wood behind him.

joel is good enough that andrei’s not going to last long, not like this, getting off on the secrecy of it all. (read: i just didn’t want to write a lot. but also i think svechy has an exhibitionist streak in him and joel definitely does) it’s a tiny bit shameful in the way that makes him groan into his palm, makes him rock his hips into joel’s hot mouth. joel just hums around andrei’s dick and that’s— okay, that’s a lot. andrei’s gonna get a splinter under his nails from digging so hard, or maybe he’s gonna die on the spot, or like something because joel pulls off to just go right back in again and fuck. (fun fact! i’ve never had sex i don’t know what i’m writing)

“fuck,” he hisses through the meat of his hand. “fuck!”

it’s too loud, probably, and joel’s eyes flick up to his with a warning.

“sorry,” andrei breathes. joel pinches his thigh, sharp enough to sting, and embarrassingly, that’s what makes him come with a noise between a breath and a whine.

“baller,” (joel pick something less sexy to say i dare you) joel says smugly when andrei comes back to earth, enough of a douche move that andrei can’t help but roll his eyes. he flicks joel on the cheek.

“you suck.”

he grins. “well, yeah. obviously.” (low hanging fruit but he’d say it so i wrote it)

“idiot,” andrei mutters and then tugs on joel’s shoulders until he stands up, pulls him in until he can nudge at joel’s jaw with his nose. “i help you?”

joel shakes his head, his hair tickling the side of andrei’s cheek. “nah, i like it when you owe me. hey, does it count as being part of the mile high club if we’re still on the ground?” (i was literally in the middle of posting this fic to ao3 before i realised i had not made a mile high joke which was unacceptable. typed it right into the text box)

“no?”

“damn. it’s on my bucket list.”

“you so weird,” andrei tells him, not managing to keep the fondness out of his voice, and then yawns so hard his jaw cracks. “i’ll pay you back with a drink.”

“oh my god,” says joel and then pinches andrei in the side so he twitches. “i just gave you the best airport blowjob—”

“only airport blowjob.”

“the best fucking airport blowjob of your life, and you’re thinking about drinks? fuckin’ ridiculous, andrew.”

“not andrew, yo-el.” (this is svech getting back at joel as best he can. trying to give it as good as he gets it. establishing banter!!)

“sure, bro,” joel mumbles and andrei shoves at him so he can get his pants back on, fumbling with the door. “next time better be fuckin’ phenomenal. you owe me big time.”

“excuse me, you said it was payback. we equal.”

“maybe i changed my mind,” joel says with a grin, bumping him with his hip.

“maybe i disappear forever,” he replies, halfway between teasing and halfway to serious. joel reaches up to fix his snapback (this is also for la.) and shrugs.

“nah, you’re too sweet to do that.”

“i’m not sweet.”

“uh huh, bro. keep tellin’ yourself that shit.”

the line’s gone down, incredibly, and they’re close enough to the counter that andrei has to start thinking about what to order. he should probably get something for marty, or risk getting whined at all flight.

“yo,” says joel when they’re two people away from the barista. “you got digits?”

andrei hesitates and then holds up his hands, wriggling his fingers. “uh. yes?” (it’s probably more in character for real life joel to ask for instagram instead but this joke made me laugh so much that i couldn’t bear to leave it out. also it’s a little fun second language moment)

joel blinks at him for a long second and then breaks out into a wide smile, shaking his head. “nah, not those. i mean, like, a phone number.”

“i don’t have a phone,” he mutters and then pulls one out of his pocket. (YES this is a tumblr post ripoff but svech wasn’t just going to give it up so easily so in it went) “okay, give.”

he dutifully types out the sequence joel rattles off and then sends a smiley face to the number when joel makes him text.

“cool. now we can text instead of ambushing each other in public.”

“that not me,” andrei tells him. “all you.”

“you’re jumpy and it’s cute.”

“i’ll delete your number. block it.” he warns and joel waves a hand.

“yeah, yeah,” he says cheerfully and then leans over to tell the barista what he wants to drink. it’s the most ridiculous sugary concoction, hardly any coffee, and andrei stares at him in horror. (this is projection for my horror at some of the things i’ve seen in american coffee shops. that’s just. so much sugar. also prime chirping opportunity to show their personalities and dynamic a little)

“you gonna drink that?” he asks and joel frowns a little. “is just sugar. candy.”

“yeah, so? it tastes so good.”

“you not gonna have teeth.” he orders two cold brews and pays. “you gonna die early from sugar.”

“somehow,” joel says with a sparkle in his eye, “i don’t think it’s gonna be the sugar that’ll nerf me in the end.” (minor foreshadowing here! also lmao @ the thought of joel saying nerf)

he gets his vanilla bean java chip unicorn whatever frappuccino— literally, what the fuck— and takes a satisfied sip.

“disgusting,” says andrei. “no more kissing for you.”

“aw, bud, how am i gonna practice? you said i needed it.” (it’s not stated in the fic but joel learned how to flirt from watching tk and patty and i think it shows)

“lost cause,” he tells him airily. he’s about to suggest something— he’s not even sure what— when someone appears over joel’s shoulder.

“farabee,” the guy says. he looks stern, but that might be the impressive beard. or the death glare he’s levelling andrei’s way. “where the fuck have you been?”

joel brandishes his drink. “caffeinating it up, g. stayin’ alert and awake.” (real life joel has said this at least once to claude, and i will stand by that statement)

g’s frown gets deeper. “we’re going to miss our flight.”

“nah, we’ve got time— oh, shit. yeah, we gotta bounce, bruh, but i’ll catch you later? text me.” (inelegant departure but my goal was to not overthink things in this fic, like i’m prone to do, so i left it) he almost literally get pulled away by his elbow, towed by his ginger friend through the airport so he can enthusiastically wave his goodbye.

“well,” marty says out of nowhere, reaching for his cold brew and making andrei jump. “there’s good news and bad news.”

“okay.”

“the good news is that he’s cute and somehow into your stupid face.” he takes a long drink, conscious that andrei is about to hit him for making him wait and enjoying it very much. (he’s dramatic and also i wanted to draw out the surprise a little) andrei needs new teammates.

“the bad news?” he prompts.

“the bad news,” repeats marty, grimacing. “the bad news is that he’s definitely in the same line of work as us.”([john mulaney voice] the other shoe just dropped.)

everything in andrei’s head grinds to a stop. “uh. what?”

“i recognize his handler. giroux, french canadian division.” (i’m gonna work g into fic when i can bc i love him)

“joel’s american,” he says absently and marty takes another drink, shrugging.

“so philly’s an international cooperation team. (this was my way of making the international aspect of the spy teams make sense, and also to not have this be enemies-to-lovers, as much as i love that trope) can’t imagine that ever happening.” he gives svech a look which, yes, andrei knows they work together because of a treaty or whatever, but still. he wants marty to be wrong about joel, for so many reasons.

mainly because he doesn’t like feeling like he’s been conned, not when he’s so good at doing the conning, and this is a big one. (it’s not my fic if there’s not at least a little angst!)

“fuck,” he says glumly. marty pats him on the shoulder.

“well,” he says. “at least he’s cute.” (marty’s trying to show his support for svech here! he just wants good things for his friend :)))

that was so fun to do, thank you so much for asking! ily!! <3 <3 <3

#personal issues #fic talk #hockey fic #hockey #hockey bros #my fic #long post #selkiefinalist

6 notes · View notes