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#(or a new friend! he's awful and so goddamn weird and i like him already)
theaceace · 10 months
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While Dream was hanging out in the fishbowl, a few dreams and nightmares that (like the rest of the Dreaming) think Hob would be the best thing to happen to Dream in a long time and also that Dream has abandoned them all, go and start bothering Hob in the waking world
But because they're dreams and nightmares, it kind of manifests as (usually awful) hallucinations. Specifically of Dream, a lot of the time (look they're trying to get their lord's attention by needling his human, yes it's stupid, no they don't have any better ideas)
And Hob, with the same attitude that's carried him through 600-odd years is like 'well I guess immortal life is already so goddamn weird this might as well happen' and just rolls with the fact that he is having hallucinations now. Learns some coping mechanisms, gets really good at not reacting to them even when horrible terrible things are happening
So when Dream finally does get back and goes to see Hob, he's just like oh cool I'm seeing things again, thought I got over that like ten years ago, ah well got a lecture to finish, better get on with it and barely even glances at Dream
Dream, of course, reacts to this like 🥺 like the sad wet cat he is, but also maybe this is a bad time. His friend is shaping young minds, he's very important and busy, Dream can come back later
So he pops back into Hob's life that evening when most people are, if not asleep, then at least at home. Hob's in the New Inn (of course) but it's quiet enough that Dream thinks maybe Hob will talk to him this time
Absolutely nothing. Like sitting across from a brick wall (and because Dream tends not to be noticed if he wants, and he very much doesn't want to be perceived while he begs forgiveness from a mortal, people's eyes just kind of skim over him, which isn't helping with Hob's assumption that he's a figment of Hob's imagination)
Dream is feeling very, very cold. None of the gentle things he's been saying to Hob have got anymore reaction than his hand tightening slightly around his marking pen (Hob is waiting for something horrible to happen, as it so often used to when he imagined his stranger, and is getting more and more tense the longer it doesn't)
Eventually they're the only ones left, even the bar staff have gone home because it's Hob's pub and he has a set of keys. So finally, FINALLY Hob looks up and is like 'oh, you're still here. We're still doing this, then' flatly
Dream: I thought I might - (he was going to say apologise) Hob: yes alright get on with it, the sooner you start the sooner you can piss off again (thinking this is a vision here to torment him) Dream: ...very well. I understand, and you need not worry, I shall not trouble you further. Only, let me ask, one final time: do you still wish to live? Hob: (well it's never gone down like this before, at least I'm getting some variety in my waking nightmares) what sort of bloody stupid question is that, obviously yes! Dream: I am. Pleased to hear that. Goodbye, Robert Gadling
So off he goes, leaving a bottle of wine that he pinched out of someone's dreams on the table. Hob scoffs, rolls his eyes and goes to bed
And panics the next day when one of the bar staff asks where the super fancy wine came from, and also who his friend was last night, didn't get a good look at him, but I don't think I've seen him before?
There Hob is. Screaming internally, because he's only gone and fucked it all up and now he's NEVER going to see his friend again
(obviously he does, probably because one of the nightmares finally confesses what they did to Lucienne, who tells Matthew, who speaks both fluent Dumb Human and Dramatic Fucker Dreamlord and manages to get the two of them in the same room long enough to talk it out)
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whoblewboobear · 2 months
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Hey sorry if this is weird to say n I know the tags you left on my post the other day when I was joking abt like. How all roads for Jace lead back to Porter like I know they’re old tags and I meant to reply sooner but I really liked what u had to say esp the part at the end I guess abt like. Is Jace returning to Porter even when we try to give him something new tragic or is he glad he got to experience new life with other people who also got to experience new life through essentially the act of creation. I just thought that was a beautiful sentiment. Like I joke about us being in the Zarajace trenches but I love her so much and i get she’s a minor character but it really does make me sad that she’s never seen as a character whose interiority is worth taken seriously. (I literally checked to see if i was crazy and like for example on ao3 she’s only in like 10 works and one is mine two are yours! and the others are like misc Zaraporterjace or sb content n offhand mentions.) I love her so much. Maybe this is silly but even as ‘always a duo’ can be so personal there is something to like. Imbuing a constellation of people including Zara that also get second rich life when we write abt our little blonde guy that we put in Situations :’)
Anyway keep fighting the good zarajace fight ily we’re stronger together! 💪
It's not weird at all! I got so in the weeds with my tags on your post bc Just the idea that maybe we all doomed Jace by tying him back to porter makes me sad but then there's duality to it of, hey he got agency and maybe he's happy too. They started in such a dark place because of the implications within canon but like- the power that creation holds is so special. In the show, Zara had a lot more to work with and I remember being a little scared to write her because it felt so daunting. She already had agency and personality that felt so clear. Like I look at her and I want to be truthful to the seeds that were planted with how she's portrayed. But it really is that same internal debate of did we doom her and take away some of that agency by tying her to Jace? Or is she happy?
ngl I have both you and @italicized-oh to thank for putting the ZaraJace brainworms in my head bc I- wow. Just like- I came into this a starbreaker girlie and fell ass backwards into ZaraJace best friends to QPR to Lavender Marriage pipeline and I think through that, through Jace and through creation Zara is happy. Plus I love that her paramour is still acknowledge a lot of the time. She has such a deep love for them outside of all the Jace and Porter shenanigans. Maybe when the lens isnt focused on her, she's having a full life in her own right. I like to think that she's fulfilled and she's happy. But goddamn I would love to see and maybe even write some Zara charater studies bc as a vampire loving whore, I'm in love with awe of her 😭
Thank you for such a lovely message~ and godspeed in the ZaraJace trenches bc we're gonna need it lmaooo
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the-puppet-bracket · 10 months
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Spamton propaganda:
"You know someone had to do it.
This guy's whole thing is not wanting to be a puppet anymore, but uh-oh-spaghetti-o! Dude now has physical puppet strings!"
"Making a [SPECIL] deal by placing his [#1 SALE SYSTEM] into a [CLASSIC!] body, Spamton believed he could be more than [HYPERLINK BLOCKED]. But the strings told him otherwise. He lunged at Kris in [LIMITED TIME OFFER], trying with all his [50% OFF!] to be more than a puppet."
"Spam email bot who was exposed to something that drove him mad and he spent the whole rest of his existence trying to cut his strings, only to die (maybe?) when he finally manages it."
"He is the most tortured dumpster man alive. Also, not literally a puppet, but metaphorically!!! There's some mysterious outside force controlling him and limiting what he can say and god, he desperately wants to break free, trying to kill the protagonist (his only friend in years) for the chance of ""being let loose from his strings"". In his secret boss battle, he thinks he'll be free after getting a new body but he isn't, as his new powerful body has literal strings attached. You fight him, because he thinks your soul (long story) will gain him access to freedom. During the pacifist route of the battle, you cut his strings until there's one more left, he's ecstatic, being able to break free from the narrative of the confines of the game. He decides to break his own last string, and he falls to the ground into pieces. It turns out he relied on the strings after so long, and couldn't recover without them. Afterwards, he's deshevaled, hung up by vines in the dark basement that resemble his old strings and he says ""It seems after all I couldn't be anything more than a simple puppet."" This ties back to how Kris, the protagonist of the game is feeling the effects of being controlled by the player and really shows the core focus of the game and it's characters. And that's why I entered him into this poll!
Also he is genuinely so fucking hilarious bro just play Deltarune already what the fuck are you doing the chapters that are out rn are free dawg (play Undertale first though, it's like ten bucks or something you'll be fine)"
"Spamton best blorbo. Very good blorbo. Exquisite blorbo even. He's sad and adhd and insane and weird and I love him and you should too. Pipis"
"he spamt"
"[[NUMBER ONE RATED SALESMAN 1997]]"
"he's living in a goddamn garbage can. let the big shot win. it'll be funny. does he deserve it? that is up to viewer discretion. but he is our beloved tumblr sillyman and as such we need to pay him respect in some manner. <3
(iirc spamton is a puppet? probably. oh well if he doesn't count ignore this i'm not read up on
my deltarune)"
"frankly i'd be surprised if he's not one of the most submitted. anyway his whole Deal is about being a puppet and having other things control him and so he seeks to regain that control through either manipulating the player into murdering half the city or to take the red soul and use it to become a god. yet in his super powerful NEO form he still has strings attached to him (that he won't even notice if he succeeded in the player manipulation thing) and in either case he ultimately becomes an item you use just for stats. guy really isn't a fan of puppetteers"
"you propably knew this was coming lol
Tumblr's favorite awful little puppet desperately fighting to get rid of his strings
the pinocchio references are strong in this one
HA HA HA ... THIS POWER IS
FREEDOM.
I WON'T HAVE TO BE JUST A PUPPET ANY MORE!!!!
...
OR... so... I... thought.
WHAT ARE THESE STRINGS!? WHY AM I NOT [BIG] ENOUGH!? It's still DARK... SO DARK!"
"Tries to become a real boy, ends up as another puppet look guy. He's shady, he's a scammer, he's got cringefail swag and I love him"
"He's just a little fucked-up little guy"
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for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.
Cas isn't a serial texter.
And Dean's a-okay with it.
But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.
*
>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]
Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.
At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.
It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.
Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.
<<< hey [12:09 am]
<<< you OK? [12:09 am]
The response is immediate.
>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]
And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.
>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]
Dean blinks.
<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]
At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.
>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]
Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.
It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.
<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]
>>> :) [12:14 am]
>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]
*
And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.
Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)
*
The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime. 
Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.
Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.
>>> I miss you [6:28 am]
>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]
Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.
<<< what [6:32 am]
<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]
Nothing.
<<< cas? [6:33 am]
<<< dude [6:34 am]
<<< cas???? [6:34 am]
Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.
He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.
>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]
>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]
*
And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.
And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.
"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."
Dean'd swallowed.
"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."
"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."
"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."
*
And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.
And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."
"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.
"He's running off to Miami."
And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me." 
At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.
*
The third time's after their first date.
(Because, well. It happened.
It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.
And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.
"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."
And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.
"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)
When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.
It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.
>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]
>>> already. [11:43 pm]
Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.
<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]
>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]
<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]
<<< me too [11:44 pm]
<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]
Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.
>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]
And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.
<<< good for you [11:46 pm]
He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.
They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.
<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]
>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]
And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.
*
As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.
But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.
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ssahotchhner · 4 years
Text
like real people do
PART TWO
hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:
words: 5837
pairing: hotch x reader
warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words
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Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.
“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”
You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”
“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”
You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.
Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”
“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.
“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.
“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.
Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”
You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”
“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”
“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”
“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.
“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.
“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.” 
“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.
“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.
Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”
“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.
“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”
You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”
“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.
“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”
Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”
Reid winces, “Good luck.”
“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.
You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”
Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.
“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.
You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”
“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”
“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”
“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”
You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”
“Agent--”
“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”
He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.
Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”
“I screwed up, Rossi.” 
“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”
“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”
Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”
Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”
Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.
***
You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.
“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you. 
“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.” 
Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.
***
“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.
“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.
“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”
“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.
“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”
“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.
You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.
***
“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.
“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”
Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.
“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”
He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”
You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”
“We’ll be right there.”
You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”
His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”
“He’s escalated. Why?”
You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”
Hotch nods, “Good work.”
He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.
***
You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.
“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”
When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.
And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.
“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.
“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.
Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”
You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.
***
You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”
“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”
She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”
You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”
“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”
“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”
When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”
“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”
***
“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”
“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.
“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”
“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.
“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”
“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”
“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”
Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”
You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”
Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”
“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”
You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”
“You’re upset.”
You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.
You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”
He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”
You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”
He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”
You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”
And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.
***
Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”
“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”
“Hotch is upset.”
“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.
“About you, obviously.”
You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”
“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”
You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”
“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”
You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”
He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”
“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.
But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”
“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”
“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”
Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”
“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”
You sigh, “I really hate being right.”
***
“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”
It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”
“Manual strangulation.”
“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”
Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”
“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”
“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”
“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”
“That’s what I told them.”
You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”
“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”
“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”
“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”
You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.
“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”
“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”
“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”
“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”
“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”
“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, Penelope.”
You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”
Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”
“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”
You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.
He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.
He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”
You nod, “Makes sense.”
“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”
You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”
He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”
***
This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.
“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.
He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.
“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”
You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”
“I just told you, from class.”
“Did you ever see them outside of class?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”
“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.
You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”
“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.
You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”
“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”
You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”
Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”
Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”
“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”
His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”
“Men like me?”
“Men who know how to get what they want.”
His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”
“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”
He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”
You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”
His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”
“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”
He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”
“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.
“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.
“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”
He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”
“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”
“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”
“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”
“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.
He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”
When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”
And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.
“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”
Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”
You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”
***
“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.
“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”
Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”
Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”
“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”
Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.
***
“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”
You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.
“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”
You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.
When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.
“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.
Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.
His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”
You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”
“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”
“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.
“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”
“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”
Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”
You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”
“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.
“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.
You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.
“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.
“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”
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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years
Text
Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)
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✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader
✧ word count: 9.9k
✧ ao3 mirror
✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me
✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.
✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3
Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.
But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.
What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.
But he held out.
If only for you.
Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…
'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.
He did a lot of watching.
Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.
So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—
Yeah.
It was a lot.
But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?
If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.
He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.
Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.
Not at all.
But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—
What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.
And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.
Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.
It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.
Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.
If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.
And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.
In a completely platonic and not freaky way.
So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.
If only for that.
He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.
If only for that.
Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—
Yeah.
That was enough.
***
It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.
Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.
“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”
Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.
But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.
He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.
So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.
It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.
Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.
“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.
Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.
Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.
“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”
Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.
“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”
“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.
“You’re just figuring that out now?”
Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.
“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”
Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”
“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.
“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”
“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”
Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.
“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.
“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”
“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”
Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.
Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.
“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”
“Your gaming club thing?”
“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”
Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.
Needless to say, he’d refused every time.
It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.
They just weren’t his jam most of the time.
“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.
Still empty.
He sighed.
Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.
Wow.
Meta.
“Jin?”
The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.
“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.
He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.
Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.
“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.
He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.
Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.
“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.
Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.
Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.
It was harder to look.
Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.
Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—
But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?
Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.
You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.
He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.
Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.
It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.
Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.
Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.
It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.
He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.
Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.
Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.
But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.
And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.
And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.
Because it was you.
You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.
The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.
But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.
And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.
Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.
“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.
“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.
“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”
“You sure about that?”
Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.
Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.
“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”
“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.
But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).
“No, really. That would be weird, right?”
Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.
Yeah it was weird.
Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.
But he knew you.
Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.
And you were crying and he had to do something.
“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”
You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.
Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.
“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.
“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.
“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.
Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.
“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”
You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.
“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”
Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.
You were weird too.
For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.
Well.
No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.
Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.
It was almost as comforting as your smile.
“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.
You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”
And you were funny.
He was gonna fucking combust.
“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”
“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.
And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.
The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.
“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.
“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.
Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.
“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”
You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.
Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.
“Seriously?”
The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.
Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.
He hated this job but he needed it.
Were you worth the risk?
Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.
You were everything.
“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”
“Are you always this nice?”
Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.
“Not always…”
“Should I feel special then?”
If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.
“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.
He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.
“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”
“Oh, no you don’t actually—”
You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.
“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”
God you were fucking perfect.
“Can’t argue with that.”
***
Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.
Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.
The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.
Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.
The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.
The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.
On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”
The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.
So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.
— HEY IT’S JIN!
— from the library
— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps
— n e way….
— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good
Most perfect fucking human being to…
Oh my god thank you so much!!!—
Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—
Also send me your order—
so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—
Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—
Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.
Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.
The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.
He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.
Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.
When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.
Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.
“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”
“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.
“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”
He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.
“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”
Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.
“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”
Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”
“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.
“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”
His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.
How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?
Other people were such a mystery to him.
To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.
“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.
“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”
“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”
Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.
“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”
“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”
Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.
“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”
“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”
“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”
***
Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.
He was fine.
He was fine.
Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.
Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.
It was a little overwhelming to say the least.
His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.
But it was fine.
Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.
Like, really fucking easy.
It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.
After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.
“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”
“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”
He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.
Jin.exe has stopped working.
“...What?”
You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”
He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.
“You think I’m cute…?”
He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”
“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”
“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”
“So wait is this a date?”
Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!
“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”
“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.
It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.
Filled with potential.
Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.
It was you that struck the match.
“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”
Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.
Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.
When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’
It was exactly what he’d hoped.
You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.
It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies
But what if he did it wrong?
What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?
He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.
“You think too much for your own good.”
And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.
Should he lean down now?
Tilt left or right?
What if he clacked your teeth together?
What if—
Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.
His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.
He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.
Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.
Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.
Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”
“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.
“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”
For once Jin had nothing more to add.
And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.
***
“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.
Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.
He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.
The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.
His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.
“Jin, fuck please-”
You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.
“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.
He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.
Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.
He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.
“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.
“Are you fucking serious?”
He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.
In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—
Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.
Wanting him.
What a concept.
He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.
And for once, he finally had the words to do it.
After all, he’d had months to prepare.
It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.
“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.
“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”
You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.
“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”
“What?”
Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.
“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”
You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.
“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”
“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”
The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.
“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”
“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”
His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.
Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.
There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.
“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.
He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.
The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.
He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.
The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.
You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.
Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.
He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.
And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.
Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.
“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”
“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”
You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”
“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”
Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.
“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”
“Ha, yeah….”
A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.
It was such a rare commodity.
But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.
“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.
Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.
That you didn’t want him to leave.
“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.
“Good,” you sighed.
He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.
But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.
He didn’t need to now.
You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.
No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.
Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.
So there was no more need for sleep.
And no need for dreams.
296 notes · View notes
fanficimagery · 4 years
Text
Wildest Dreams.
Imagine it's a couple days before your wedding and your friends start coming in for your last days of freedom. Only you start having second thoughts, old feelings crop up, and you end up having a breakdown.
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Words: 5.1K Warnings: This happens to be an AU with no children and Liz is alive. If a character isn't mentioned, I'm sorry. I had too many characters already.
The Mikaelsons, plus a couple of significant others, are sitting around a fire pit in the backyard of their mansion down in New Orleans after a surprisingly calm family dinner. The only one missing is Rebekah who'd gotten up to answer the door when one of Klaus' minions was dropping off some things inside. But mere seconds later she's returning, a smile gracing her lips as she reads from what appears to be an invitation in her hands.
"You have been cordially invited to witness the celebration of love between Landon Wesley and Y/N Y/L/N," she says as she retakes her seat next to Marcel. "Aw. Our little Y/N grew up so fast."
Elijah, who'd been staring into the fire, suddenly frowns. He sits up a little straighter in his seat. "Y/N is getting married?"
Skimming through the invitation, Rebekah doesn't see her brother's expression. But Klaus, Marcel, Freya, and Keelin do. "Mhm. In two weeks, but she wants me down there a couple days before for a girls thing. She said I could bring whoever I wanted, so Freya and Keelin are coming with."
"Oh. Okay," Keelin huffs. "So I guess we don't get a say in this?"
"Nope. Not at all."
Keelin rolls her eyes, but she's smiling all the while. Freya pats her wife on the back of the hand, chuckling, just as Elijah clears his throat and stands up. "Well if you excuse me, I think I'm going to call it a night."
As Elijah makes his exit, Rebekah finally lifts her head from the invitation. Klaus hides his smirk behind the glass tumbler he's sipping from as everyone else watches Elijah go with their interest piqued.
"Am I the only one who found that weird?" Keelin asks, gesturing towards where Elijah disappeared off to.
Marcel chuckles, shaking his head. "Not at all. Someone please tell me what the deal is there?"
Rebekah sighs. "Y/N holds a special place inside Elijah's heart."
"Dear Y/N is cousin to one Caroline Forbes of Mystic Falls, part of the scooby gang we once loathed." Klaus smirks. "But we never loathed Y/N."
"Not at all." Rebekah now starts to smile. "Y/N was kind, even when her family and friends plotted our deaths. She was the only one whose word we could trust and the only other person who purposely engaged 'lijah in conversation."
"We obviously thought our dear brother had a thing going on with Y/N, but he denied it every time," Klaus says. "It was because she was only seventeen at the time, but it's been years now."
"Y/N is definitely all grown up." Rebekah slowly smirks. "And definitely still asks after Elijah."
Klaus chuckles. "And it appears Elijah still harbors something for our favorite Mystic Falls resident."
"Well damn," Marcel mumbles. "We're so going to this wedding. We haven't had normal people drama in a while."
Keelin raises her glass in salute to Marcel's words. This was definitely going to be an interesting trip.
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The Salvatore brothers have given up the Boarding House for the night so you could meet with your girls. Caroline took care of getting food and drinks, and Bonnie and Elena knew it was best to just stay out of Caroline's way. Because as Maid of Honor, Caroline took her duties a little too seriously.
"Can we eat yet?" Bonnie asks, already munching on a breadstick. "What are we even waiting for?"
"I'm expecting a few more friends," you say. "They're about five minutes out."
"And which friends are these?" Caroline wonders.
"Rebekah." Caroline immediately groans whereas Bonnie and Elena look uncomfortable. "Don't even give me that look," you tell your cousin. "I made Rebekah promise to be on her best behavior and she did so long as none of you made snide comments towards her. And the other two are Freya and Freya's wife Keelin."
"Freya and Keelin? How come we've never heard of them before?" Elena asks.
"Because Freya is a Mikaelson and her story was really sad," you say. "I didn't think I should tell you when I had first found out." All three girls look at you and you sigh, locking your phone and shoving it into your back pocket. "So long story short, Freya is the eldest Mikaelson. She was taken hostage by her aunt, forced to live for one year and then magically sleep for a hundred." Bonnie's eyes widen in shock. "She escaped and sought out her siblings who helped her kill their aunt so she'd finally be free. It took them a while to trust one another, but they eventually did and then Freya met Keelin. I've only spoken to them a handful of times, but they seem like great people. Just give them a chance."
The girls are quiet after learning that, but then Elena can't help but ask, "So is Freya human or..?"
"She's a witch and her wife is a werewolf." The girls all blink in surprise and you sigh. "Please. Just please give me this night and the day of my wedding. I don't need any drama."
Your pleading expression is enough to have the three of them agree and just in time as well. Elena and Caroline alert you and Bonnie that a car is pulling up, and it's not long until Rebekah, Freya, and Keelin and walking right on in.
The tension is obvious when Rebekah says hello to everyone, but the genuine smiles come out when you greet Freya and Keelin for the first time face to face, and then introduce them to Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena. Caroline, having put her best hostess persona, then leads everyone into the dining room.
Caroline and Bonnie are the only two to remain standing as everyone takes their seat, Caroline then dishing out either spaghetti or chicken alfredo while Bonnie serves up the wine. Conversation is a bit stilted, but the moment Bonnie asks Freya a question about magic it's like the flood gates open. You're surprised Freya gives up more of her story so freely and it's like a weight is lifted off your shoulders when Rebekah cracks a joke about how deranged her family is that has everyone laughing.
The food is devoured between the seven of you and by the end of dinner you've finished two bottles of wine. The third wine bottle follows you all into the lounge where more comfortable armchairs are carried in so everyone has a seat of their own after Freya and Keelin take over the loveseat.
"So," Caroline chirps as soon as she's comfortable, "are there any other Mikaelsons we should be expecting?"
Rebekah grins. "Is this your subtle way in trying to figure out if Nik is coming?"
Bonnie and Elena giggle as Caroline scoffs, but everyone sees right through her. Even Freya and Keelin who have no idea of the history between the two blonde vamps. But suddenly Freya stops giggling and leans forward in her seat, looking quite pensive. "Wait. Are you the Caroline that my brother couldn't help but compare every female to? You're that Caroline?"
"Yes. Yes she is," you say and take another sip of your wine.
"Huh. Now I get it." Freya chuckles. "You're cute and feisty, and can apparently keep up with Klaus. I approve." Keelin can't help but nod along as everyone laughs at Caroline's surprised expression.
The surprised expression quickly morphs into smugness, but then Caroline is quick to shake it off. "We're not here to talk about me. We're all here for Y/N. I was just wondering because you know how Damon and Stefan are with Klaus."
You sigh. "Which is why I've talked to them too," you say. "I know everyone has issues with each other, but it's my goddamn wedding and there will be no death threats or neck snapping or so help me I will stake somebody." Your friends and guests are stunned into silence before Keelin snorts, everyone then giving into their laughter quickly after. You too, eventually, and then you groan as you attempt to hide your face in the palms of your hands. "I just- I don't want any issues. I'm already freaking out as it is."
The laughter fades off, sympathetic expressions taking over, and it's Keelin who then leans forward in her seat, reaching for your hand and gripping it in comfort. "It's going to be fine. You have nothing to worry about. If you love- er, uh what's his name?"
"Landon."
"Landon! Yes, Landon," she chuckles. "If you love Landon, you'll be fine." Your smile falters and you don't have to be an onlooker to know that the light in your eyes dims just a little. Your pretty sure everyone's noticed it if the sudden intake of breath is anything to go by. "You do- you do love him, don't you?"
"Yes!" You blurt a little too fast. Your response is a little cringeworthy and you sigh, retaking your hand and slumping in your seat. "I mean we've been together for three years. I love him. I do, but.."
"But he's not 'lijah."
"Rebekah!" Freya is quick to scold.
"What?" The blonde Original shrugs. "You haven't seen them together. You don't understand."
"I'm not one to ever agree with your sister, but she has a point," Elena says. "Y/N and Elijah-"
"But there is no me and Elijah." The girls fall silent at the tone in your voice. "There never was." You retake your glass of wine, chugging the rest of its contents before setting your glass back down. "Now if you guys will excuse me, I need some air."
No one tries to stop you as you go and you end up on the back patio, hopping up onto the brick railing and then leaning your back against the brick pillar. The cold air outside cools your flushed face and you try not to let your mood tumble down the rabbit hole.
You knew inviting the Mikaelsons was bound to bring up the past, but you didn't think it'd affect you quite like it is now. Elijah was, for obvious reasons, a touchy subject with you and your friends knew not to bring him up. But then Rebekah broke the ice and Elena, of all people, just had to agree with her.
"Here. Put this on." You're surprised to see Freya offering you a jacket, but you take it nonetheless and offer her a small smile in thanks. She grins, placing a smoking bowl down on the railing next to her. "Sage," she explains. "It keeps the vampires from hearing."
"God I love magic."
Freya chuckles and then after a moment passes, she says, "I'm sorry about what my sister said in there. They shouldn't bring any of that up so close to your wedding."
You shrug. "It is what it is. And if I'm being honest, she's not totally wrong."
"No?"
You shake your head. "I almost didn't invite Elijah because I knew my stupid crush on him would resurface, but then I thought I'd look like an asshole if I sent out personal invites to everyone else and he saw he didn't receive one." Freya chuckles quietly and you sigh longingly. "And the closer it comes to my wedding, the more I find myself longing for those talks with your brother rather than what Landon has to offer. I miss our talks about history and just life in general," you say. "And the more I listen to Landon talk about the latest Xbox game or the stupid jokes he's heard from his coworkers, it feels like I die a little more every day on the inside."
Freya frowns a little. "I apologize if I'm overstepping, Y/N, but do you honestly love Landon? If you continue to compare him to my brother, you're just setting yourself and Landon up for heartbreak down the line."
"I know. And I love Landon. I do, but I don't think I'm as in love with him as I once thought."
"Y/N.."
The first tear falls and you huff a laugh as you wipe it away. Quietly, you rhetorically ask, "Why couldn't your brother just love me? It'd have made things so much more easier." You're so caught up in your feelings that you don't see Freya tense or her eyes widen in surprise. "I don't even know what I'm saying," you then mumble. "I'm getting married in two days. Maybe I should just lay off the wine until then."
"Uhh, yeah. Maybe." Freya agrees.
You snap out of your spiral then, eyes widening. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry for laying that on you."
"No. Don't be," she laughs. "You needed to vent and I'm glad it was me, an unbiased ear."
"Really?"
"Really. You're fine," Freya assures you. "Now come on. Let's get you inside before we freeze."
As you hop off the railing, heart aching and mind going a mile a minute, you can only hope that your mind clears in time for you to say I do to Landon. It would really be terrible to enter a marriage while longing for someone else.
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The morning of your wedding dawns bright and early, and you immediately know you're in no shape to be getting married. Since Rebekah, Freya, and Keelin have come into Mystic Falls you've put on a brave face for everyone, but now there's no hiding exactly what you're feeling. Because the moment aunt Liz, Caroline, Elena, and Bonnie wake you for your big day with party horns and confetti, you burst into tears.
Immediately the cheerful atmosphere vanishes and the girls are stunned into silence. "I can't do this," you cry. "I can't do this to myself or to Landon. It's not fair to him."
"Oh sweetie." Liz takes a seat next to you on the bed, putting a comforting arm around your shoulders. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
"I'm so sorry, aunt Liz, but I can't- I just can't get married today."
Elena shifts uncomfortably next to the bed. "Y/N, if this is about us bringing up Elijah the other night I'm so sorry."
"No. No, you don't have to be sorry." Sniffling, you wipe at your eyes and look at those in the room. "I will admit to being nervous about seeing Elijah again after only talking about him brought back this stupid crush on him, but the more I thought about it," you trail off, shaking your head. "Can I really marry a human?"
Bonnie frowns. "Y/N, you are a human."
"I know that, Bon, but after everything we've been through.. knowing all that I know, can I actually settle down behind a white picket fence and pray every night that Landon doesn't ever find out about the supernatural? Whether you guys want to admit it or not, Liz and I will always be in danger because of our ties to you guys." Seeing their frowns makes your heart break just a little bit more.
"I don't mean to offend you," you say. "I love you guys alot. But I've put Landon in danger for years now and I can't risk it anymore. Because what happens when he asks for kids? I won't bring a family into our already messy lives."
"Y/N," Caroline murmurs. "The wedding is in nine hours. What are we supposed to do?"
"Compel them to forget or to be okay with the wedding being called off. I don't care. Just please do something."
"What are you going to tell Landon?" Bonnie wonders.
"I'm not sure. If I have to, I'll call in a favor from Klaus. He likes me enough to compel the groom away."
"And the caterers?"
The bedroom door suddenly swings open and Rebekah sighs as she leans against the door jamb. "Don't worry. Us Mikaelsons have a bit of money to throw around. All caterers will be told the wedding is off and to not to mention the money they've already been paid, and Landon's family will find that they're not missing a penny from their bank accounts."
It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. "Thank you, Bex. Thank you so much."
"Don't even worry about it," she assures you with a smile. Then pushing off the door jamb, she pastes on a smile and claps her hands once. "Okay. All vampires and witches with me. We've got a wedding to cancel."
Caroline and Bonnie are quick to rush out of the room, but Elena lingers by the bed. When you meet her gaze, she says, "If you need some time, my family's lake house is empty. You're more than welcome to take a week or two for yourself there. We'll give you some space."
"Thank you, 'Lena. Some space and time actually sounds pretty good."
"Well then it's settled," Liz says. "You go freshen up in the bathroom and I'll pack you a bag. We'll grab some groceries while everyone cancels your wedding, and then I'll drive you down to the lake house. Does that sound like a good plan?"
You offer her a faint grin. "Yeah. It does."
The moment Elena leaves the room, it seems like everything is in a fast forward motion. Liz ushers you to the bathroom where you have a good cry in the shower and then as you're getting dressed you have numerous text messages from your friends coming in to tell you how all the compulsion is going. Damon even offers to compel Landon for you, admitting that he never quite liked the human blood bag and he was glad you had come to your senses before you took the guy's last name. That had earned your first chuckle of the morning and even Liz chuckled when you had read her Damon's text.
Liz helps you put the groceries away at the lake house and then makes you promise to call her should you need anything, no matter the time. And only after you've agreed does she finally leave you all alone.
You send off one last text to your group of friends that your phone is going to be off for the time being and then promptly fall asleep in the master bedroom.
When you wake up again, it's only a little past one in the afternoon and you decide to make yourself something to eat. You eat and then settle on the couch for a little tv, only to end up outside on the dock and staring out into the water.
The time your wedding was to take place comes and goes, and you can't help but turn your phone on to see if you have any notifications. The only messages you have are from Caroline who assures you that everything's been taken care of and that she thinks you made the right decision. Hearing confirmation from your cousin eases some of your worries and you don't feel as bad about what you did.
By the time night falls, you're snuggled up on the couch and watching the best horror has to offer in order to keep your mind off any romance for the time being. You're in the middle of watching The Conjuring when there's a knock on the front door, startling a yelp out of you. Cursing your overbearing friends and their need to make sure you're really okay, you pause the movie and get up to see who it is.
Only when you open the front door you're more than a little stunned to find Elijah standing there by the top of the porch steps as he turns to face you. There's a moment where you both drink each other in and then your eyes narrow into a glare whereas Elijah's lips stretch into a smile as he steps closer to you.
"Elijah."
"Hello, Y/N."
The butterflies take flight and your heart beats double. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"
He huffs a quiet laugh. "Someone near and dear to me had to make possibly one of the most difficult decisions in their life this morning. Did you really think I wouldn't come to check up on you?"
You do your best not to swoon, smiling softly at him as you shake your head in amusement and open the door wider as an invite. "You're lucky you've already been invited in otherwise we'd be stuck out on the porch. Come on. Let's go take a seat."
Elijah follows you into the living room after shutting the door behind him and you turn off the movie so you can place all your focus on him. There's a fire going in the fireplace, but you still turn on a few lamps so you can see him properly. And when you turn back around it's to see that Elijah already made himself comfortable smack dab in the middle of the couch.
Grinning, you drop in the spot next to him with one leg curled beneath you and the other hanging off the front of the couch so your foot is planted on the floor. "Hi," you muse.
"Is it too soon to ask you what happened?"
Straight to the point as usual, his question makes you faintly cringe. But before he can take the question back, you decide to tell him. "I'm too involved with the supernatural world, Elijah. What kind of person would I be if I had dragged Landon into the mess that is our lives? He deserves to have a normal and happy life."
"And what about you? Don't you deserve to be normal and happy?"
As he speaks, you notice how his gaze drops to your mouth before quickly darting up and looking elsewhere. You try to play it off but you know your damn heart gives you away immediately when he fights off a smile. "Normal and happy is so overrated," you then manage to say. "After all that I've seen and been through, a normal life would be boring."
Elijah finally allows himself to smile. "Is that the only reason why you wouldn't marry him?"
You tense at his knowing gaze, heart beat tripling as it's your turn to avert your gaze. You'd never been good at confronting your feelings head on, especially with the person said feelings are for. So as the seconds tick on by, you can feel your face flushing. You quietly groan. "Do I really have to say it out loud? It's embarrassing."
"Y/N."
"Elijah," you retort. You manage to hold his gaze for three seconds before you break eye contact and sigh. "It was obvious I had a crush on you back when I was seventeen and apparently it's still obvious now."
"I think it's adorable."
"Of course you do." Against your better judgement you reach out to swat at his arm and your breath hitches as he catches your hand and then maneuvers it so he can press a kiss to the back of your hand. You smile sadly. "It's been you since I was seventeen and I don't think anyone can ever compare to the Elijah Mi-mmph."
Elijah stuns you by pulling you into his lap and quickly maneuvering you so your knees are on either side of his lap, his mouth slotting against yours with such ease. There's a moment where you don't know what exactly to do with your hands, but the second his hands tug on the hem of your shirt, your hands find purchase on his shoulders before sliding up the side of his neck.
It's you who breaks the kiss for some much needed air, but you don't go far because Elijah keeps you close. His hand cups the side of your jaw, but his thumb runs gently under your bottom lip. You nip at his thumb, he grins, and then you groan when your predicament finally settles in. Elijah chuckles as you drop your head to his shoulder, your hands clutching at his sides under his suit jacket.
"What are we even doing?"
"I believe you're finally going after what you truly wanted."
"And you? What about you?" You ask, shifting nervously in his lap as you sit back.
"I am making my move," he says as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "before someone else comes in to ask for your hand in marriage." You roll your eyes and he chuckles softly. "Since I made you admit something earlier, I will admit that I too have compared everyone to you. My family knew I held you above all else and they were quick to rub it in my face that you were to wed this evening. And earlier when I got Rebekah's call, I knew this was our chance."
"You're a big 'ol softy, Elijah Mikaelson."
"Only when it comes to you, Y/N Y/L/N."
You can't help but smile at his words, leaning in for a quick kiss. But it's not so quick as Elijah pulls you back in, peppering a few kisses across your mouth and cheeks. You giggle, but then that giggle turns into a groan. "The girls are going to be unbearable."
"Niklaus too, but I'm willing to put up with it as long as I have you by my side." You make a noise and facial expression as if you have to think about it, and Elijah gently squeezes your waist in retaliation which makes your jerk in his hold. "If you're that worried about their reactions, we can go away for a bit until everyone has had enough time to get used to our new situation."
You huff a laugh, but upon seeing Elijah's expression your amusement fades away. "You're serious."
"I am. New Orleans is a bit crowded at the moment and if I remember correctly you've always wanted to see Ireland. So what do you say to a spontaneous vacation with me?"
You blink owlishly at Elijah before your lips stretch into a smile. "Yes!" Your excitement makes him chuckle, but then you're quick to to come down. "My friends won't go for it. They'll continuously ask if I know what I'm doing and want daily updates and everything."
"They won't. And if they do, they'll have Sheriff Forbes to answer to." Your brow furrows in confusion and Elijah smirks. "How do you think I found you all the way out here? I stopped by the Forbes residence and Elizabeth was kind enough to point me in the right direction. It seems we already have one person in our corner."
"Jesus Christ," you huff. "Are we really doing this?"
"Only if you're sure you want to."
You take a moment to think things through, but before that moment can stretch on too long, you say, "Yeah. Let's do this. When do we leave?"
"Whenever you want," he tells you.
"As much as I wanna leave right now, I kind of just want to take you up to bed and get reacquainted with you."
Elijah slowly smiles. "I quite like the way you think, Miss Y/L/N."
"Then what are you waiting for, old man? Take me to bed already."
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SIX MONTHS LATER
Freya and Keelin have just gotten home, a stack of mail on the hall table catching Freya's attention. Her siblings are out as usual, wrecking havoc no doubt, so on her way to the kitchen she grabs up the stack to sort through it.
As Keelin goes about grabbing the wine from the fridge and two glasses, Freya starts to filter out the trash from the stack of mail. Only halfway through the stack, one particular envelope catches her eye.
Freya starts to smile. "It seems like Elijah finally broke his silence."
"Oohh," Keelin coos. "What does he have to say? How is Y/N doing? Because last I heard not even the girls in Mystic Falls know."
Freya opens up the envelope, pulling out a picture and a letter. She smiles brightly upon seeing her brother and Y/N smiling under the Northern Lights- which is utterly adorable, in her opinion- and then goes on to read the letter to herself. Her smile slowly falters as her eyes widen in surprise. "No. They didn't," she breathes in awe. She quickly scans the picture again, her eyes lighting up as she laughs joyously. "They did!"
Keelin startles. "What? What did they do?"
Freya drops the letter and quickly flips around the picture for her wife to see. "They got married!"
"WHAT!?" Keelin practically shouts. "Let me see," she says as she hurries around the kitchen island.
Freya openly laughs now. "They got married under the Northern Lights last month. They'll finally be coming home in a couple of weeks."
Keelin grabs the photo so she can study it itself, her smile blossoming. "Oh my god. They really did get married."
"In the letter, Elijah said only Caroline and her mother know. They're going to come here first so they can figure out living arrangements and then they'll go see everyone else."
"Rebekah is going to be so pissed," Keelin muses.
"I can see it now, she's going to force a small ceremony on them when they're settled in."
"As long as I get to see Elijah smile in person as he is in his wedding photo, I'm all for it. Jesus looks at how adorable they look together."
"I know," Freya says. "I don't think my brother could have found anyone better for himself. We had only met Y/N and I immediately knew they'd be perfect for each other."
"Right?" Keelin then huffs. She looks at the picture one last time before setting the picture down. "We need to blow that up and hang it on the wall. Getting married under the Northern Lights was such a neat idea."
"Mhm. So much better than that Christmas themed wedding she originally had planned."
Keelin chuckles. "I thought I was the only one who thought the Christmas theme was tacky."
"Oh no. Rebekah secretly hated it too, but she didn't want to upset Y/N. She will, however, be upset she missed the Northern Lights wedding."
"I mean I'm pretty bummed, but I'm also excited for them to get home so we can pick their brains and get to the bottom of whatever the hell they were thinking. I'm super stoked for them, but I also want to know who proposed to who and everything!"
"Same here." Freya turns towards her wife, wrapping her arms around her waist while Keelin settles her arms around Freya's neck. "But until then we got family to inform of the couple's new status. Not it!"
"Not i- dammit!" Keelin pouts, she now having to be the one to inform Klaus and Rebekah. "I hate it when you do that."
Freya laughs. "Better luck next time. Now let's go. I can't wait to see their reactions."
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magical-girl-coral · 3 years
Text
It's Gin's Birthday! Here are some HCs
- He made his own version of "the floor is lave!". In the Seireitei it was "the twelve worked there," while in Hueco Mundo it was "Szayelaporro spilled something here." Both times people would fly to the roof, and in both times, Gin will have a shoe thrown to his face.
- Things Gin is forbidden to touch during his pranks: Aizen's tea, Kaname's kitchen, anything that belongs to Unohana, Yumichika's hair products (a request from Kenpachi because the bitching was awful the last time it happened), anything made by the twelve division, anything made by Szayelaporro, Yachiru's candy, Soi Fon's knives, the ninth's yet to be published articles, Rangiku's makeup, Komamura's shampoo, and Jushiro's medicine (even Gin isn't heartless enough to mess with that).
- Gin's a surprisingly good cook. It makes sense once you remember that one, Kaname was one of the people who raised him, and two, he grew up with Rangiku and had to learn how to cook, or they would have died from food poisoning.
- He's an absolute fashion disaster. He wears the plainest and oversized clothes he can find. If it weren't for Rangiku, he would have the Shinigami equivalent of a closet full of hoodies. Just hoodies.
- Gin was lowkey crushed when he found out Shinji had a tongue piercing. It meant he couldn't have one of his own without people thinking he's copying his old captain.
- He's the only person in the entire world that can bring Orihime's Cain Instinct to activate. If you leave them alone in the same room, she will try to strangle him.
- He and Orihime have a fascinating dynamic because it's a battle between Orihime's ability to lower people's threatening aura and Gin's creepiness rubbing off on people. It's a pure unstoppable force v.s immovable object battle.
- Gin mostly gets sick during summer thanks to his sensitivity to heat. When they were kids, Rangiku only got sick during winter so they joked that they knew they would be screwed at the same time, so their bodies took turns of who gets to be sick this time.
- When Gin was a kid and got sick for the first time, Aizen had to trick him into taking medicine by putting them in dried persimmons. Gin understood the trick immediately and refused to ear dried persimmons whenever he was sick since then. Nowadays, a good chase around the barracks is the only way to make him take his cough drops.
- The reason why Gin refuses to take medicine is that he wants his immune system to get stronger on its own. He's constantly on survivor mod and doesn't want to become too weak and pampered. He doesn't have the same attitude when someone else gets sick though, like the hypocrite that he is.
- Jushiro once did the mistake of unexpectedly hugging a third seat Gin, awakening the latter's fight or flight instincts and Jushiro got a swift kick to the stomach as a result. No one tried to hug him since, at least not without warning.
- He has a really weird grasp on human pop culture. He gets to go to the human world on rare occasions and will try to catch a movie to pass the time if he finished his mission early. References with him are a hit and a miss.
- He also suffers from insomnia and is usually awake from one to three in the morning. He tries to do paperwork or read a book to help him fall back asleep, and takes a nap in is his office to complete some of the missing sleep.
- All of Gin's seater officers were originally from different divisions. His third was from the first, his fifth was from the eleventh and his sixth was from the sixth. They were unhappy with their positions, so Gin gave them promotions to make the transfer faster. It made his betrayal all the more painful.
- Gin is cursed with genre awareness. He knows exactly what kind of story he's in and what his role is. He figured it out around the time he became captain when Aizen was doing a Shounen protagonist version of Build a Bear with Ichigo's parents. He saw Aizen create his own downfall and thought "ah, I see. So this is where I stand." The reason why he gave Ichigo the mantel of taking down Aizen and why his last thoughts were in complete calm was because he knew he was going to fail thanks to his role as a side villain. He didn't quit with his revenge because he believed he was too far gone and understood that if he's going down, he might as well try to take the bastard that started it all with him.
(here are some "if he lived" hcs because I need to get these out of my system)
- Gin return the Gotei 13 is an uncomfortable reminder of how no one is invincible. Every time someone is like "we Shinigamis are too strong to be defeated," Gin lets out an awkward cough. This is also one of the reasons the head captain wanted him back; he knows they need Gin to remember to keep their feet on the ground.
- There are a few people (other than Rangiku and Izuru) that befriended Gin after his return:
Jushiro: Kinda felt bad for knowing Gin as a kid and not knowing how Aizen was slowly turning him into a weapon. Also, he needs more members for the Shiro club.
Shunsui: He usually goes along with whatever Jushiro's doing and this is no expectation. He was always pretty neutral about things anyway.
Nanao: She already felt like she had to give him the benefit of the doubt with how much Rangiku was happy with his comeback. They ended up bonding over picking up their drunk friends from bars.
Kenpachi: He finds Gin funny and Yachiru likes his snacks.
Unohana: They had some weird bonding and mutuals understanding as she healed him. Also, him being a captain again is a huge pain in the ass to the Central 46. That already makes her happy.
- I've already talked before about how if Gin had an inner hollow it would be a Kitsune, so I would like to add that his teeth would sharpen as a result and his hair would become softer, almost fur-like. It's because the stronger the hollow, the more one's body gets affected, almost like a type of mutation.
- Gin only broke the rules once with his restrains, and that was so Kaname could visit Kakyo's grave during her birthday.
- Even after Central 46 banned all interactions with Karakura town, Gin continued in contact with Orihime through secret burner phones. Only Rangiku and Izuru are aware of this.
- After his return, his first prank was dying all of Byakuya's clothes, furniture, and hair seaweed green. Byakuya had said something so goddamn insufferable that it snapped Gin out of his depression and straight into mischief. If Byakuya likes his Wakabe ambassador so much, Gin might as well help to bring it up to a whole new level.
- The wounds left by Aizen were so severe that Gin had to wait five years before he could get his right arm back without damaging something in the process. His prosthetic was overseen by Unohana herself to make sure no one was messing with any of the electronics.
- The first thing he did after his restraints were removed was to visit his old hut. He wanted to see it one last time before letting go of the past for good.
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bakubros-boo-thang · 3 years
Text
Thirty seconds: Cameras & Caramel
Bakugou x ‘model’ reader
Warnings: cursing, sfw, mentioning of body type
Quirk: Stopping time ( limited time and limited amount of people)
Summary: When your roommate kinda pushes fate at your doorstep you end up in bed with Bakugou. That wouldn’t be so bad, except for the pervy director, the spotlights and the fact that you are definitely not used to model. Atleast you can make sure you get your 30 seconds of peace....
Art by : Chocalicia
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Bakugou hated these types of things. He knew that being a hero on the rise meant that he had to grow his fanbase. He HAD to be known. He had to show up at random places, on billboards, in magazines and on tv. Not just for the live broadcastings if his fights, but also in random commercials.
He hated those commercials most. With magazines it was just a picture, a second of pretending. With commercials you had to pretend for longer. Professional models were at least professional about it, but those aspiring ones were trying so hard to get more out of the shoot than just a paycheck. They probably went into the shoot just for him. It would be a lie if he never ended up next to a stranger because of that. He had a busy schedule and sometimes he was touch starved. Those moments were the only moments his “work” and private life were combined. The rare private life he had.
You on the other hand had no idea what you were up to. You never wanted to be a model, so you weren’t. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. When searching for a “plus-sized” model in the middle of Tokyo you -a foreigner- stood out and when asked for a one time job, you had politely declined until your roommate had said: “You are here for that once in a lifetime moment, get out of your comfort zone, fuck the insecurities and experience that moment”. So here you were. Wearing a sleeveless top and black sleeping shorts. Laying in a fake bed, on a fake set, bright spotlight hurting you eyes and with a blanket only covering your ass and barely covering your boobs (which looked nude bc of the illusion). Since your friend pushed you to do this, she was the one who did all the talking. You just knew that you were supposed to lay like this, act shocked by your male counterpart and needed to smell his perfume. Something about “Comforting and sexy.” It was a stupid catchphrase. You had been living in Japan for a couple months, studying quirks.... you had only chosen that major, because of your own struggle with your quirk and had no real goal with the study, but the chance to finish up the course in Japan was something you couldn’t pass up. Since Japan was the country with the most development of quirks, it was the perfect choice. You worked a part-time job as a barista on the side and you couldn’t complain. But when you saw him you definitely wanted to complain. The first thing you noticed was the spiky blond hair, then his red piercing eyes and since you didn’t want him to catch you staring at his abs, you decided to use your quirks. The room was filled with eight people including the two of you so it wasn’t that difficult to do. And so you just paused everyone. You knew that you could only keep it up for thirty seconds at most, but in those seconds you could take a good look at him. At the bored expression he had, the way he was only wearing low hanging jeans and those rock-hard abs. You had barely fifteen seconds left to just readjust yourself one last time, trying to ignore your insecurities and give yourself the ultimate poker face, you laid in the position. Time went back on an nobody seemed to have noticed the missing seconds. Bakugou definitely looked slightly confused, which didn’t stop him from walking towards you and yelling to no one in particular: “Let’s get this shit over with, I have things to do.” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “Okay let’s get this thing right in the first take. Bakugou you just came home from a long patrol, you walk over to your s/o who is all curled up in bed and you give her a kiss on her cheek, she wakes up smelling your neck and realizes that you still smell like our cologne. She pulls you towards her and then it’s CUT, since we need to keep this safe for work right? We will film the solo clips of you after this scene. Ready? ACTION.”
Bakugou walked towards you. His face looked kind, maybe even loving in some cocky way though. Confidence was more the right word. You quickly close your eyes knowing you have to be ‘asleep’. 20 seconds later your eyes still haven't opened up, Bakugou was supposed to kiss you awake right? “DUMBASS WHY AREN’T YOU DOING YOUR DAMN JOB.” You couldn’t even respond, he scared you with the way he talked, of course you had heard of him. The hero with the terrible temper, but still experiencing it first-hand kinda sucked. “I... I... I didn’t....” The director cut you off. “CUT, let’s try it again.” Bakugou had already gone back to reshoot the scene. “ACTION.” He walked towards you again. This time you knew the camera would only focus on your face when he ‘kissed’ your cheeks, which he wasn’t planning on actually doing. You didn’t know whether it was him being respectful or him hating you, but it really annoyed you so you decided to give him a little payback. As he faked kissing your cheek you decided to use your quirk and pause only him. You didn’t touch his lips. You did however smell him. He didn’t smell like that disgusting cologne. He smelled like sweat and something burning. A light caramel smell. It was intoxicating. You had forgotten that you had only paused him, so the rest of the crew saw Bakugou standing over you with pouted lips not moving at all. When you realized that you were still pausing him, you quickly released the quirk and here he was all flustered, confused and definitely annoyed at himself for losing his cool. You felt a little guilty, but on the other side this was his payback. No one said anything about the rising hero’s pouted lips though, not wanting to trigger the hero’s anger. “Let’s just try it once more. Action.” Before Bakugou walked back to his starting point he whispered “ err... sorry for acting so creepy. I... I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Now you DID feel horrible. You had to make sure this take worked out.
He walked over to you and actually kissed your cheek. You let go of all your insecurities, ‘Opened’ your eyes and you smiled at him with a smile full of love (mostly due to the fact that you were still intoxicated by his smell and of course his good looks, and maybe that apology did kinda make him seem... likeable), you once again smelled his neck which was far from punishment and the rest was just natural to you. Pushing your hands over to his neck and pulling him in felt amazing. Seeing him lay next to you felt even better and even he couldn’t help but to give you a tiny smile. Probably because you were radiating so much happiness. (Which was definitely not because you were such a good actor). “CUT. This was perfect, there is just one little thing I want to add, but give me two minutes before I explain. You can stay in your positions.” Bakugou looked at you. Just now noticing the way you looked naked. “Are you comfortable like that?” He asked. “Err... not really, but probably because this is my first time doing this.” He clicked his tongue “Tsk you’re not a model?” You shrugged “Nope just a regular barista who’s roommate forced her to end up in this weird commercial for err... cologne right?” Bakugou chuckled, “Yeah goddamn awful cologne.” You couldn’t help but agree. “They made me smell a tester, you definitely didn’t smell like that, fortunately.” He raised his eyebrow “How did I smell then, extra?” But his “extra” didn’t sound as threatening as it usually sounded in the fight videos on his Youtube page. It sounded more like a dare, but before you got the chance to explain the director already started explaining his new idea. “ I know we are not supposed to do anything not safe for work, but sex still sells, so we will just plant a seed.” He couldn’t help but give you a pervy look that made you feel sick to your stomach. “Only thing you two should do is end up under the covers, that's it. Action!” He continued.
“WHAT THE HELL, DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GO UNDER THE BLANKET WITH HER?!” Bakugou screamed. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. You barely knew him, but still hearing him get so angry for having to look at you and sharing that small space with him, definitely did hurt.
“Bakugou, why are you being difficult?” The director sighed. “ Look how you made her look, this girl has never been on a set and you already made her lay nude under a blanket, expecting me to go under that blanket. I’m not a FUCKING PERVERT GODDAMIT!” He was looking so angry, but you had to tell him. You slightly tapped his shoulder. “WHAT?!” He screamed. “Err... Bakugou...” You lifted up the blanket. “I’m not naked.” You couldn’t help but notice the quick scan he gave your body. You couldn’t blame him, especially since you had done the same. “Oh well, still you shouldn’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” You gave him a tiny smile. “Don’t worry I trust you, it’s only for a second right.” He couldn’t help it. You intrigued him. The way you made him forget what he was doing (literally), the way you were sooo out of place, but still seemed to enjoy your time here and the way you just talked to him. “Alright let’s go then ACTION.” And the crew just knew Bakugou’s “action” was just as valid as the director’s.
You continued with the loving looks. Bakugou’s smile was a lot bigger than before, “He can really act.” You thought to yourself. And while you were still holding his neck in your arms, he grabbed the blanket and put it over the two of you in a swift move. Now you were surrounded in the dark. The only thing you could see were his red eyes. “Thanks for making me feel at ease today Bakugou. It was nice of you being cautious whether you should kiss me. Err... I mean kiss my cheek.” You stammered quickly, knowing that this conversation could only take a few seconds. “ No problem Dumbass. I’m still cautious though..” his face was closer now. “About what?” You let out. Feeling butterflies in your stomach, feeling your breathing stagger and your hands getting sweaty. “About whether I should kiss you right now. You’re probably too nervous with everyone around right?” How had he known that you wanted to kiss him? You felt humiliated, but still you had a ace up your sleeve. “Don’t worry about that, I already paused everyone.” You said with a smirk. “WAIT A MINUTE, you DAMN extra were the one to pau...” but he couldn’t finish his sentence. You had already put your lips on his and he had already forgotten all about his anger. That day you found out that you could use your quirk to a much longer extent than 30 seconds.
Authors note: Just a quick story I came up with. Hope you enjoyed it and would appreciate a reblog💚
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robinrequiems · 3 years
Text
ok ig cashier damian is my latest hyper fixiation, so let’s add
• Ight so, on fridays, jon cannot come in all the time, very rarely can he. and when he does. he sees a very cute sleepy damian who also wants to punch him:)
• damian is just a mess. he didn’t have time to fix his appearance because as soon as he got out of school, he had to change in a shitty unsanitary grocery store bathroom.
• it was not fucking fun. it never is. damian is so over it. jon normally sees Damian working on homework quickly before putting it away when Jon or other customers show
• damian cannot be asked to look like a normal human being when he just finished 7 sad hours of school in ANOTHER shitty uniform. he hates uniforms
Jon: you look like you’re gonna fall asleep
Damian: ugh, look who it is, the good boy from metropolis who doesn’t look like a creep at all when he comes here just to talk to me. woo hoo!
Jon: nice to see you too
• jon normally sucked on lollipops when he didn’t want to chew on gum, plus sometimes he chews on gum really aggressively and it hurts his jaw
• but let’s talk abt jonny: star athlete ( I’m a simp for athletes jon, please kill me. he’s a basketball player in this though. he got the height for it anyway ), himbo-vibes, and overall sweetheart.
• at least that’s what everyone else thinks. his life is a cycle. A very miserable cycle. It’s honestly tiring and hurts his head and generally takes his mood down
• but then he drove to bludhaven in his new car and brand new license. and he saw him.
• sure he’s seen moody teenagers working at stores before, but this boy; Damian, by his name tag, was different. He SENSED IT
• jon found that he liked different
• damian.. just didn’t easily talk with Jon like so many did at home. he liked a challenge
• and Damian was his challenge
• so he wasted so much gas and time and money to visit him.
• he was so whipped
• he was attracted to him. just the way he did things. like goddamn. ok.
• then his friends and him took a trip there. it was Saturday, they were gonna leave on Sunday. it was for Kathy’s birthday. He had no idea why she wanted to go here.
• oh. yeah. The idiots taken in for underaged drinking. Jon didn’t drink. ( he was a good boy and designated driver ) so he was just there trying to get the officers to let his friends off the hook
Damian: oh look, guess the good boy isn’t really a good boy.
Jon: Damian—? No! I’m here to get my friends out!
Damian: figures, you’re too innocent to do bad things.
Jon: what did you do then?
Damian: well wouldnt my you like to know
Dick: Damian! There you are! Sorry, I was calling up some parents- who is this?
Damian: Good boy.
Dick: ah.
Jon: Jon Kent.. nice to meet you
Dick: wait. As in Clark Kent?
Jon: yeah? that’s my dad
Dick: aw your dad used to babysit me
Damian: can we go now
Dick: hush Damian, I’m feeling nostalgic
• so Damian learned jons name. And jon got to see Damian in regular clothes, so that was cool
• he also got in trouble and couldn’t see Damian for a month because his parents were upset about what happened.. understandable, but jon was still upset
Tai: soo, that was him?:)
Jon: shut up
• tai accidentally found out about cashier boy, it was very funny for tai. not Jon. he teased jon for being whipped.
• sure jon liked damian for his looks at first. then he liked him for him.
Jon: dad, some guy named dick said hi
Clark: jon it isn’t— wait-
Jon: he said you babysat him
Clark: really? You saw him, how did he look? I haven’t seen him since he was a kid!
Jon: um. good?
Clark: where did you see him?
Jon: ..the police place
• his parents put a tracker on jons phone. now they were so confused why their son kept going to Giant Beagle in bludhaven. it was. weird.
• they just- was he meeting someone?? why was he doing this? WAS HE GETTING DRUGS? wait. no. it’s jon. jon couldn’t even stand the smell of cigarettes
Lois: jon.. honey.
Jon: yeah?
Lois: why do you keep driving to bludhaven? I’m worried about you and want to make sure you aren’t doing anything.. bad. Or dangerous.
• granted, it was very dangerous going out there, but he liked it. he liked the thrill of when he got to walk damian back sometimes! HE WAS GETTING CLOSER TO DAMIAN!
• oh also. it turns out damian gave him a fake number
• rude.
• damian always warned him though. and tried to make jon not walk far. jon was.. jon was a good boy. he would never survive in bludhaven frequently, jt worried humored damian.
• sometimes jon came by during the day. Damian’s Sunday shift was in the evening while his Saturday one was in the morning. jon got to go get lunch with him sometimes if Damian felt like there were enough people around that would know if he got kidnapped or not
Damian: why do you bother talking to me? most get bored of me and my attitude.
Jon: I find it charming. you’re fun to talk to. you feel so real. almost everyone in my life feels artificial and like I’m living in a disney Chanel movie.
Damian: *he laughed* oh?
Jon, loving Damians laugh rn: yeah! it’s like they’re.. androids or somethin’.
Damian: why don’t you just find someone snarky from metropolis?
Jon: it wouldn’t be as fun then.
Jon: i like a challenge.
• getting to know damian was like trying to beat the hardest level in his game. it was mind blowing how many times he basically had to restart. Damian was also like a Rubix cube, but jon will get there. He already has 1 side done on it.
Jon: so you live with your brother?
Damian: yes.
Jon: nice
• jon didn’t pry. Damian and dick had became forgotten after bruces death, a lot of the kids did. they just all disappeared from the media like ghosts.
• so jon didn’t know that dick wasn’t his blood relative, or that Damian was Bruce’s child. no one really did
• it wasn’t like it mattered though anyways
Damian: basketball is lame.
Jon: have you ever played?
Damian: yes. it sucked ass
• jon has helped Damian restocked late at night sometimes. Damian doesn’t like him touching things, but the faster he does it, faster he can go home to get his pets, alfred, and his idiot brother
Damian: you waste a lot of gas coming to see me.
Jon: it’s worth it.
• jon had to get a job. boo. he worked on days he didn’t have practice and sadly, on sundays.
• he was a worker at a small cafe, he was just a waiter there
• and then one day, on a Sunday, Damian came in with a few people. WAIT DAMIAN CAME IN
Jon: DAMIAN
Damian, clearly startled: what the fuck, jon!
Jon: why’re you here! how long are you staying! ARE TOU REALLY HERE!
Maya: is this who you were talking about?
Damian: shut up.. but calm down, idiot.
Damian: .. you got a haircut.
Jon: you- you noticed? sorry I couldn’t come this week. was busy this week and needed to catch up on sleep.
Damian:’it’s fine. I guess I really should give you my number now.
Colin: that was smooth
Jon: really?
Damian: mhm. after you seat us, dumbass.
Jon: oh right
• and Damian did give jon his number
• a real one dw
Maps: he was cute.. he single?
Maya: he wouldn’t be single if Damian just manned up
Colin: they practically just stared at each other the whole time when they thought the other wasn’t looking
Damian: wait he was looking at me?
Maya: oh damians so whipped.
• oh how the cashier is falling for the waiter
• sounds like a hallmark film.
• next week jon did end up visiting him in ‘haven, and drove him home.
• damians feet were hurting and he was tired so he didn’t even bother to argue.
• jon couldn’t come to visit his favorite cashier during winters a lot, he may of liked his new “dangerous” life, but he heard how bad the roses could get from Damian
• damian was a bit sad and moody because of that. but shut up. you don’t know anything dick
Dick: you know.. you should invite him inside
Damian: so you can embarrass me? no thank you.
Dick: me? embarrass you? never. but come on, you have never shown interested in anyone before! I wanna meet him!
Damian: you already did. At the police station. you forget or something?
Dick: .. that wasn’t really the best first meeting. come on. please?
Damian: no.
61 notes · View notes
fruitcoops · 4 years
Note
A Coops Sid's date. Pure fluff
Coops Wedding Part 3 is here! Post-wedding food (finally) and heading home together. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3
Preparations II Part 1 II Part 2
TW for flirty Coops
Sid’s was quite empty for a Thursday night in the summertime, which Sirius was eternally grateful for as they headed to their usual booth, slinging jackets over their chairs and tangling their legs together under the table with identical sighs of relief. Remus reached across the tabletop and laced their fingers together, tracing the lines of Sirius’ palm without looking away from his face.
His once-perfect bowtie hung loose around his neck, crooked even when untied; Sirius tugged one end, skewing it a bit more. “Cutie.”
“You are,” Remus said with a slight smile.
Just as Sirius was about to fire back with something equally sappy and romantic, a shadow fell over the side of the table. “Hey, guys, what can I get for you?” Nate asked as he dug his notepad out of his apron. “The usual?”
“Sounds great. How’ve you been, Nate?”
Nate shrugged. “Not bad, not bad. The summer rush is helping me save up for grad school, which is nice.” He gestured to their suit jackets with his pen. “Special occasion?”
“Yeah, we just got back from a wedding,” Remus said casually.
“Really? Whose?”
“Ours.”
Nate’s pen clattered onto the table as his jaw fell open; he glanced between them, speechless, and Sirius bit his lip to hold down his laughter. “You—your wh—you got married?”
They shushed him in unison and he held both hands over his mouth. “It was a small ceremony, just friends and family. We’re waiting to see how long it takes the media to find out.”
“That’s incredible,” Nate whispered, sniffling. “Oh my god. Fuck, congratulations.”
Sirius grinned, feeling the happiness bubble up in his chest again. “Thanks, man. It’s still sinking in, to be honest.”
“No, yeah, absolutely.” Nate shook his head for a moment before picking his notepad back up with a quiet huff. “Jesus. This is amazing. Pizzas are on the house for the newlyweds, okay?”
“Aw, Nate, you don’t have to—”
“It’s restaurant policy,” he interrupted, already moving toward the kitchen. “I can’t break the rules!”
“That’s not a rule,” Remus muttered as Nate disappeared behind the swinging doors. “That kid’s about to get the nicest tip of his goddamn life.”
“Mhmm.” Sirius guided Remus’ face back to him with a finger under his chin and kissed him slowly, sighing at the softness of his lips. He tasted like champagne, with a little bit of sweetness left from the wedding cake. “Sugar.”
“Is that a new nickname?” Remus asked as he transferred some weight to his elbows for a better angle.
“Could be. D’you like it?”
“Hmm.” A warm palm covered the side of Sirius’ neck. “It’s not bad. ‘Sweetheart’ works fine for me, though.”
“How about ‘husband’? ‘Husband’ sounds pretty good. Mon mari.” Remus blushed and tilted his face to the side, rubbing their cheeks together for a moment. “Quoi? C’est bien?”
Remus rolled his eyes, but he was hiding a smile. “You know I’m weak for the French.”
“I do.” Sirius kissed the inside of his wrist lightly. “Hey, that’s the second time I’ve said that today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. First time was better, though.”
Remus laughed and pulled him in for another kiss, combing the pads of his fingers through the curls just above Sirius’ ear. They stopped when the kitchen doors creaked open, but kept their foreheads together until Nate arrived with their food.
“Enjoy,” he said, practically glowing with excitement as he handed them napkins and utensils. “Congrats, again. I’m really happy for you guys. Have an amazing night.”
“Will do.” Remus smiled as he hurried back to the register, then reached for a slice of pizza and practically shoved the entire thing into his mouth. “Fucking hell, this is good.”
Sirius groaned in agreement, letting his eyes fall closed as the soft crust warmed him from the inside out. “This is the best part of my day.”
“Is it?”
“Yep. We’re married, we’re done with the party, and now there’s actual food to eat.” He held his fingers up to count. “Checking all my boxes.”
“Good point.” Remus stole a piece of pepperoni off one of his slices and Sirius made a noise of protest, only to pull a face when Remus set a bit of pineapple on the edge. “What? It’s a fair trade.”
Sirius glared playfully at him over the next slice, then hurried to catch the long string of cheese that slid free from the rest of the slice with a muffled yelp of distress.
“Do you need a hand?” Remus asked, clearly amused as he passed him an extra napkin.
“Uh-uh. I got it.” It took a second, but Sirius managed to get it all into his mouth without snorting pizza sauce through his nose as they both broke down laughing. “Another successful mission.”
“You’ve got pizza grease on your lip,” Remus said, reaching over to dab at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.”
“Thanks, love.”
They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, too focused on the hot food that they could finally enjoy without interruption; Sirius glanced at the wall clock and was astounded to see they had made it over ten hours since their last proper meal. No wonder he was so hungry.
“It felt weird sleeping alone last night,” Remus remarked once their plates were clean and Sirius wasn’t in immediate danger of getting hangry.
“I know, right?” Under the table, Sirius ran the side of his foot up Remus’ calf. “Super strange. We haven’t slept separately in months.”
“Mhmm.” Remus’ pupils dilated, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just from the low light. “It was fun staying the night with the cubs, though.”
“Yeah?” Sirius pressed a little harder on the inside of his knee and Remus gripped his napkin.
Amber eyes flickered around the restaurant before settling on Sirius. “Baby. What are you doing?”
Sirius shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Really?” Remus raised an eyebrow and Sirius’ breath hitched as a hand squeezed the top of his thigh.
“I think we should head home.”
“Good plan.”
Thanks to Nate and his made-up rules, there was no bill to settle, but they left a tip anyway and made sure to say goodbyes to the familiar staff as they headed back to the car. If Sirius let Remus go through the door first for the express purpose of coping a feel without being seen by the other patrons, that wasn’t anyone’s business but their own.
“You are such a—” Remus’ teasing insult was cut short by hands curling into the front of his shirt and pulling him over the console as lips connected to his own in a far less chaste manner than before. “Well. Alright, then. Home?”
“Home,” Sirius confirmed, grinning as he started the car. It was impossible to not feel smug when he managed to bring that particular shade of pink to Remus’ neck and ears. Despite the anticipation in his stomach, he took the longer route, watching the shining lights of the city turn Remus’ face every color of the rainbow. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Remus glanced over and rested his temple on the window, tracing a small circle on the back of Sirius’ hand; a small smile tilted his mouth in that perfect, off-center way. “We’re married. That’s super fucking cool.”
“It is,” Sirius laughed. His cheeks were starting to hurt in the best way. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”
“And I’ll never get tired of saying it.”
They reached the house a few minutes later, and Sirius’ heart leapt when he saw the front steps. “Wait!” he called, scrambling out of the car and grabbing Remus around the waist before he could go to the front door.
“What?” Remus asked, looking mildly alarmed until Sirius swept him into his arms. “Wh—really?”
“Please?” He pressed a quick kiss to Remus’ nose, then another to his forehead, again and again until Remus was laughing too hard to speak. “Please, please, please—”
“Okay, okay!” He draped his arms around Sirius’ neck and held on tight as he walked up the steps. “Do you have the keys?”
“Back pocket.” Remus reached around to get them and Sirius jumped when he felt a light smack as well. “Oh?”
Remus just kissed his cheek and unlocked the door, pushing it open with one hand. Hattie was having a sleepover with the Dumais’ for the night, thankfully; Sirius shuddered to think of what would happen if she collided with his legs in this vulnerable state.
“Ready?” Remus asked quietly, snuggling closer against his chest.
Sirius took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold, careful not to knock Remus into either side of the frame. He had crossed that little line a thousand times, maybe a million, but as they entered the dark house in dance-wrinkled suits with matching rings on their fingers, he felt a new chapter in the story of their life open up. The first of that particular volume, in fact.
He had the feeling it would be a good one.
200 notes · View notes
ja3hyuk · 3 years
Text
nothing but games
—lee minhyung —
—word count: 1.2k—
[NSFW:choking,language,rough sex]
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you and mark had been friends for years, i mean since like what? 4th grade? crazy, right? every weekend you two would meet up to play video games and one or the others homes. usually mario kart or call of duty, sometimes just dance, all the basics.
one friday on the way out of school you feel a hand grab your arm, it was mark. you turn and smile, “hey asshole that hurt” you giggle aswell as he does. you and mark do your stupid little handshake which was made in 6th grade by the two of you, mainly mark. lame. as expected... “you. me. mario kart at mine. tonight at 8. you in?” mark says excitedly. “lemme check my schedule, i’m a busy girl you know...” you say and you both laugh knowing you never hang out with anyone besides mark. “sounds like a plan, see you soon dumbass” you go separate ways to your cars.
6:39 pm-
“what the fuck am i gonna dude? all my cute stuff is dirty.” you say as you’re digging through your dresser. you finally settle on a plaid purple skirt and a black cropped top. cute and simple.
7:42 pm-
*new message*
y/n
“hey i’m out front :)”
“shit okay, fuck she’s early, fuck, shit” says mark, frantically throwing his mess into the coat closet across from the couch.
you make your way to the front door and before you can even knock, it opens, and you see mark standing before you, wearing gray sweatpants and a black v-neck shirt. you had never really had a thing for mark, i mean yeah he’s hot but like it’s weird since you’ve known him for so long, at least that’s what YOU thought.
“wow you look pretty” says mark as he hugs you. “thank you, i guess” laughing at his big eyes focused on you. you both walk over to the couch and sit in your same old spots, mark on the left, you on the right. “you want a drink?” mark asks. “whatcha got?” “raspberry vodka” mark replies “sign me the fuck up!” you yell as he cheers. drunk mario kart was something you both had always wanted to try but had never gotten the chance and i guess tonight was the night.
2 shots deep-
“don’t pick peach again, mark. you know i hate her.” you say as mark is dying laughing with his cursor over princess peach. mark chokes on his own air as he selects, you guessed it, princess peach. you play about 3 rounds, you and mark are 2-1 and he’s being a sore loser. as usual. but the loser penalty is two shots so he’s a little tipsy and not too upset.
6 shots deep-
“oneee more rounddd pleaaassee” mark slurs at you. “noooo mark i’m tired.” you say with a pout. mark loves it when you pout like that, you’re irresistible. if you couldn’t already guess, mark has THE fattest crush on you. it’s slightly obvious to others but to you, it’s huge. it’s been this way for 2 years.
11:25 pm-
you lay you’re head on marks shoulder as he stroked your hair, as best friends usually do. but to mark, it’s different. he stops for a second and you look up, maybe it’s just the alcohol but fuck... he looks good. “hey quit drooling unless you want me to kiss you” he smirks at you. “well...” you say with a laugh following. “wait dude really??” mark jolts up and says in excitement, “one kiss can’t hurt” you say, little did you know...
mark grabs your chin and tilts your face up to meet his as he places a soft small kiss on your lips. you sit up and put your arms around his neck kissing him again passionately, you continue kissing until you’re on top of him on the couch, closer than you’ve ever been. out of breath already, mark begins putting his hands up your black crop top. when you realize what he’s doing, you stop kissing him. “what? did i do something wrong?? fuck i’m so sor-“ “let’s go upstairs” you say, cutting him off. mark is smiling hard as fuck from excitement. this is all he’s wanted for so long. you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you up the stairs, still kissing of course. you get to his room and he lays you on the bed, sweetly.
11:46 pm-
“goddamn... “ mark mutters under his breath making you crack a smile. he takes his shirt off and begins helping you with yours. cupping your face in one hand, removing your bra with another, mark is in control of you now.
his lips trail down your body leaving a few vibrant purple bruises. he started at your neck, then down your chest, now down to your wrists and now to your hips. he suddenly stops in awe, “is this really happening??? what the fuck???” he thinks to himself for a second, not too long once the realization hit though... “are you sure you wanna do this?” he asks in a raspy voice. “yeah, i am.” you respond quickly and sharply just ready for what’s about to happen.
mark slowly goes down on you, you shiver at his tongue and are shocked at the fact he knows exactly how to use it. pushing your legs up to your chest combined with his quick pace, mark is making it hard to not to finish so fast. “mark don’t stop” you moan “wasn’t planning on it, princess” he smirks. finally you finish in an orchestra of breaths and curses, but quickly mark stands up, and by the size of what’s showing in the gray sweatpants... fuck. nothing could prepare you for this.
mark flips you over onto your knees, as he grips your ass with one hand and your throat in the other, he pounds into you furiously. “h-holyy fffuck” you moan as he speeds up. “mmark please” you manage to get out surprisingly, his grip on your neck is so tight you could barely speak but, you liked it. “yeah that’s right. cum for me baby.” mark moans loudly as he thrusts. “i’m gonna-“ your sentence was cut short because of the overstimulation of mark reaching for your clit. you crash, and mark wasn’t too far behind. heavy breaths are the only noises to be heard as you look up and see a sweaty, drooling mark lee above you. goddamnit he’s so fucking hot.
mark stands up and walks you to the bathroom to clean you up as well as himself. “thank you” he says. “thank you? for what?” you giggle, “for making my dream come true” he winks at you and you both laugh, he leans forward and places a small giggle filled kiss on your shoulder. “i love you so much.” he coos, “i love you more, stupid” you reply. <3
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gotnofucks · 4 years
Text
Sweet Tooth
Paring: Lee Bodecker x Reader
Summary: Sheriff, you and his sweet tooth.
Words: 2.2k
Warning: Smut, weird smut, mushy smut, 18+ ONLY
A/N: Goddamn you all! I didn’t know I’d be writing another Bodecker after finishing SMS but damn are you all relentless. Here is your soft!chubby!sheriff. Combining two requests here. Hope you Hoe-deckers like it.
MASTERLIST
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You drove to your fiancé’s house, smoothening the dress once you got out. You had put a lot of time in styling your hair today. Lee would be meeting your parents for the first time, and you were already nervous about it. Your father had not been happy to know that you were marrying a man who didn’t even bother to ask his permission. Things only went south when you pointed out that the only permission he needed to marry you was yours.
You were hoping your mother would mediate the meeting tonight and were glad your brother couldn’t make it, because that meeting would have spelled disaster. You were only doing this tonight because it was customary to do so, and because you couldn’t put it off anymore. Earrings dangling in your ear, you bounced inside the house.
“Lee, I’m here.” You said. You loved his house, with the fluffy rugs and candy wrappers between the couch cushions that crinkled when you got handsy over them. This would soon be your home too; you’ll be moving in your stuff in the next few weeks. Navigating the hall, you reached Lee’s bedroom and saw the door ajar. He was standing in front of the mirror, looking at himself. You don’t think he had even noticed you walk in, so intensely did he stare at his reflection.
“Honey?” You called and his eyes met yours in the mirror, sadness floating in them.
“Why are you marrying me?” He asked.
You tilted your head, not knowing what was going on.
“Lee? Hon, what’s wrong?” You asked as you saw him looking in the mirror again. You had never seen him look so vulnerable, and the look in his eyes tugged at your heart. You set your bag down on the table and joined him in front of the mirror, holding his hand. His face was flushed, and you felt like he was seconds away from breaking down.
“Why are you marrying me?” He asked again and you breathed deeply.
“Because I love you.” You answered him, putting a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, nose bumping your palm.
“How can you love me? I mean, look at me!” He exclaimed, pushing away and spreading his arms, showing his body. “You deserve someone handsome, someone who doesn’t have a lump of mass hanging on his front.”
Your exhaled, finally understanding the situation. It was not the first time his insecurities had come into play, but so far, they had been well hidden and rare. You’d see him tighten his hold on your hand when you’d walk across other men in parks, or how he would tighten his belt more than necessary when meeting your friends. You would see him throwing away his chocolates and candies, trying to be like ‘other men’.
You knew you would have to deal with this delicately because Lee was a proud man. He had a hard exterior that shaded his soft inside, and one wrong move could bruise his tender ego. Pursing your lips at him, you deliberately moved into his space, letting your body rub against his soft belly. Yours arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him down, letting your mouth meet his in a deep kiss.
“Lee Bodecker, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. I love you because you carry a blanket in your car because you know I get cold easily. I love you because you massage my feet after I remove my heels. I love you because you carry me in your arms wherever I wish. I love you because you kiss me in a way that gives me a taste of heaven. I love all of you Lee, including this mass of lump as you called it because its you.”
He sagged against you, heart right below your ear as his arms circled you, pulling you harder into him and his head resting on yours. You let your hands run through his hair, caress his head then back and in the end squeeze his butt. That got him to laugh a little, and if he sniffled you didn’t mention it.
“You love me then, even if I eat enough candies to stick my teeth together?” He asked.
You looked at him with a smile that made his heart flutter like an excited butterfly.
“I love you for it. I’d much rather you eat those sugar lollies if they keep you from the bottle. Not to mention you have by far the most deliciously kissable lips in this fucking town.”
His lips began twitching, eyes returning to their mischievous glint that you loved. He bent down to give you one of those delicious kisses, his mouth tasting of chocolate. You moaned and ground yourself against him, his bulge hardening against your thigh. Pulling away he growled, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip and you squealed, the taste of him and blood filling your mouth.
“What will your papa say when he knows you’re marrying a man who’s had you in every possible position before marriage, eh?” He teased and you pulled on his collar to lick his neck.
“Don’t worry, we’ll tell them we’re marrying because I comprised your virtue.”
He started laughing, a happy laughing that made his belly jiggle. Kissing your nose, he cupped your face, running his fingers through your now ruined hair.
“And what if your mommy finds me…lacking?”
You could feel how much it bothered him, the thought of your parents. He had been trying to learn everything about them, to earn their approval despite you telling him it didn’t matter. But you would be damned if you let anyone make the love of your life feel inadequate.
“Lee, I’m marrying you, not their opinion. They can pronounce you the Devil and I will sin the rest of my life away so I make way home to hell and you after I die. I love you my dear, with every last part of me.”
Love and passion rose in you like a giant wave and you impulsively tossed away your earrings. You neared him, his face a look of awe.
“You know what, we’ve put off this meeting for months. Maybe a few more days won’t hurt.”
He kissed you hard, humming in agreement and picking you up by the waist and carrying you to his bed. Your bed.
“How can I ever thank you for being in my life” He murmured, and you smirked.
“You can start by worshiping the lumps of flesh on my body” You said, letting your dress fall away to reveal your bare body. His eyes darkened and he unbuttoned his shirt, unveiling what was to you a body made to provide comfort and pleasure. You fondled him, carefully, softly, teasingly. He worshiped you and later that night you showed him how much you appreciate him.
+++++
You writhed, moaning as Lee’s tongue weaved magic between your legs. Whoever said marriage got boring after a while had never met Lee Bodecker. The noises he made turned you on almost as much as his tongue thrusting in your heat and you clawed at your husband’s back, fingers tangling in his hair.
“Oh god, oh fuck Lee!” You shout and fell off the cliff, heat bursting from you. Lee lapped at your juice, slurping like a man thirsty in desert. You panted with a satisfied, completely sexed up look on your face. His chin was dripping with your essence and you clenched around nothing.
“Fuck!” Lee suddenly exclaimed, looking with wide eyes at your still drenched pussy. You jumped up, wondering if you got your period but found no blood on your thighs.
“What?” You asked and Lee stuttered, running a hand through his damp hair.
“I uh, I lost the jolly rancher.” He said and you blinked.
“What?”
“I lost the jolly rancher. Inside you.”
You struggled for a moment to understand what he said before screeching. You jumped off the bed and started bouncing on your toes, trying to dislodge the candy from your cunt.
“What the fuck Lee! Why would you put a candy in me? Get it out. Get it out!” You shout and you husband paced around you, trying to bend his head and see if it fell out of you.
“I like the taste of it on you!” He said in defense and you growled in anger. He looked at your helplessly, watching you jump and bounce until he finally took your hand and tugged you to a stop.
“Lay back on the bed, let me search.” He said and you shot him a look before doing as he said. Spreading your legs his fingers probed your entrance, wiggling inside you. You suppressed a moan, reminding yourself that this was not for pleasure. Your spongy flesh within quivered at his touch and you ground your teeth, curses hissed at him from between them.
“How deep are you?” He asked in frustration, eyes level with your most intimate part. You almost suggested he should go get his flashlight when his fingers brushed against a small object inside you. Carefully plucking it between his thumb and finger, he pulled out the wet candy and showed it to you triumphantly.
“You bastard, what if we didn’t find it? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would have been to ask a doctor to remove it!” You complained but Lee didn’t give a fuck. His eyes heated over, becoming almost liquid as he pinned you down with his stare. You whimpered pathetically when he placed the candy before his lips, tongue coming out to swirl around it and then popping it in his mouth, licking his fingers clean of the remaining juice.
“They can make as many new flavors as they want, but god if the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted is you.” He bent over you, mouth meeting yours and his tongue transferred the candy to you, the flavor of it mixing with the natural musk of you and Lee’s lips. You moaned indecently, anger dissipating as heat bloomed between your legs again.
God bless the moment you agreed to marry this horny bastard.
+++++
You thought you were being sneaky, but your husband was not a Sheriff for nothing. He could smell a lie from miles away, and as he glared at you with folded arms you felt like a child being scolded.
“Did you steal from me?” He asked again and you shook your head like before, widening your eyes in a show of innocence. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.
“I’m sure you must have forgotten.” You commented and Lee banged his fists on the table.
“You know I count my candies! You stole them. I left 9 in the drawer, now there are 6.” He accused and you stood up, mimicking him and banging the table too, angry as well.
“You can’t prove shit! What’s your evidence?” You countered and Lee growled. He came around the table and tugged you to his chest, eyes gleaming dangerously.
“I know that when I leave home you drink my juice and top the rest with water. I know when you tamper with my secret stash because you fucking left bite marks in the chocolate bar. You are a shitty criminal my wife.”
He glowered at you and you finally pouted in surrender. You hugged him, letting your ear rest over his heart. One finger tracing patterns on his chest you peeked up at him, eyes wide and innocent.
“You always eat them alone. I want some too, but you are bad at sharing.” You said. Lee looked down at your thoughtfully, a snort escaping him and he nuzzled your head. Rocking you in his arms he lifted you on the table, grabbing your knees and spreading them apart, stepping between your open legs.
“You insane woman, I’m sharing my life with you. If you wanted my candy you only needed to ask.” Saying that he brought out a candy from his pocket and unwrapping it popped it in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on it, a moan escaping you at the tangy taste and Lee’s eyes darkened with lust, knowing that expression from when you suck on him. It was stupid really, but he felt jealous of the candy in your mouth. He licked his lips as he watched you suck, pants tightening.
It was like you could read his thoughts and you giggled. Pushing the candy to one side of your mouth so your cheek bulged out, you pulled Lee into a kiss, his tongue quickly sweeping inside to lick at the sweet.
“You don’t need to be jealous Sheriff. These candies may be tasty, but lord knows my favorite lolly lies in your pants”
+++++
Drabbles Masterlist
579 notes · View notes
Text
Love Cuts Deep
Chapter 5- It’s All Good, Mostly
Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)
Summary : After dealing with the Winter Soldier and getting your shit rocked. You, Sam, and Steve with an unconscious Bucky, are deciding on what to do next.
Warning: angst, fluffy moments shoved in here
Masterlist
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After making a hasty escape to an abandoned dying old warehouse in Berlin, you helped Steve pin Bucky’s metal arm to a steel compressor in hopes that once he woke up, he’d be your Bucky again.
Who knows how deep Hydra’s talons are pierced into him?
Listening to the dull roaring of a search helicopter in the near distance, you lean against the wide garage doorframe separating the room Bucky’s in from the rest of the cavernous steel warehouse. A deep frown staining your features as you study his sleeping form that’s slumped over a wooden box while his body leans against the steel contraption.
The man who joined your little chaotic trio stands on guard a couple feet behind you as Steve keeps watch over by the buildings entrance that’s decently close to the rest of you. So far you’ve all been here for about forty minutes by now, keeping to yourself as you protectively watch over Bucky while he dries from his dip in the river with Steve and that broken helicopter.
“You’re Y/N, right?” Inquirers Sam from behind you; blinking tiredly, you slowly turn around while keeping your back leaned against the wall of the large doorframe.
Arms folded and appearing less then enthusiastic, you nod in acknowledgment, “That’s me.”
Revealing a friendly smile, he looks at the ground before meeting your stoic gaze, “Been a rough couple of days, huh.” Muses Sam in an attempt at lightening up the mood.
“Been a rough couple of decades.” You bluntly retort back before closing your eyes and leaning your weary head against the wall.
Sam mouths a silent “oh, right” before folding his arms together and clearing his throat, apparently he’s not done, “So, uh...I’m not trying to be weird or anything, but uh....last time I saw you. You were laying on the ground dead, blood trailing out from your head....unless my eyes are playing with me.” Explains Sam before letting out a nervous chuckle, “Or you’re actually a ghost.”
Opening your eyes, you shift your gaze over to Sam, “I was, yes.....well, technically I wasn’t actually dead, my heartbeat just slows dramatically while my body heals together again. ” He stops smiling as you shrug, “Regeneration. I can heal quickly.”
Mouth forming a surprised O, he nods, “Damn. Aren’t you just full of surprises.” Jokes Sam as you crack the tiniest of amused smiles.
“Keeps me moving.”
For a few moments you get uninterrupted peace before he decides to start up another conversation, much to your already agitated state. Though this time his voice is more serious as he takes a step closer to your side, “He must mean an awful lot to you if you’re willing to follow him this far.”
Returning your somber gaze back onto Bucky, you sigh, “I knew him when I worked for Hydra, he was my partner for many missions over the decades.” Sam’s dark eyes flash over to you in curiosity as you continue, “After the fall of Hydra, I searched for him for a little while. Clearly my efforts were not in vain. And now, after all this time.....I can admit freely that I love him.”
Sam’s brows raise in surprise at this spout of news, he had no idea you and Bucky were anything like that, “Huh.....well uh, sorry all this happened to you two.”
You shrug while throwing him a friendly half smile, eyes softening as you look at Bucky, “As long as he’s alive and I keep my freedom. I don’t care what happens. I’m done with the people of this world, we’re both done with them.”
“The worlds not done with you two just yet.” Adds Sam with a concerned fatherly tone.
You sigh, “So it would seem.”
A moment later Bucky stirs, his head bobs slowly upward as he takes in a deep breath, blue eyes opening before turning left to look at the steel contraption holding his arm in place; Sam yells for Steve as you walk closer to Bucky.
Quickly, Steve and Sam arrive right after you, your brows furrow in anxious concern as Bucky keeps tiredly slumped over while seated on the smallish wooden crate. His eyes find yours as he looks to the ground again before muttering a raspy, “Y/N.” Causing a spark of hope to ignite inside your heart.
Steve stands to your left, suspiciously eyeing up his old friend, “Which Bucky are we talking to?”
Bucky blinks in thought for a short moment before an adorable smile tugs at the corners of his plush lips, “You’re moms name was Sarah.” He pauses for another small second as a larger smile reveals itself freely now, “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”
Listening to your lover genuinely chuckle at a fond memory from so long ago fills your soul with happiness. Steve shares a relieved glance with you, gaze quickly returning back to Bucky, “Can’t read that in a museum.” You quip with a smile.
“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Doubts Sam, still a bit unconvinced and full of cautious reluctance from the wild beat down him, you, and Steve endured to get Bucky here safely and in one piece.
Pursing his lips together, Bucky’s shadowed eyes search for yours, “What did I do?” He hesitantly mutters, greatly dreading that answer.
“Enough.” Quickly answers Steve.
Bucky shuts his eyes tight before lowering his head in shame, “Oh, God, I knew this would happen.” Mumbles your lover as his head comes back up to meet the three of you, “Everything Hydra put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”
Biting your lip anxiously, you dread what he might ask you soon enough, then just as expected he does just that; eyes finding yours, Bucky’s face reveals a deep frown, “Y/N. How did we get out.”
Suddenly you feel rather small as the three men turn curious yet wary glances in your direction; Sam knows and Steve have an assumption, but Bucky doesn’t know the gory details. Shifting uncomfortably, you train your eyes on the floor, “Not important.”
Looking like he’s about to protest for an answer, Steve suddenly speaks up to break the tension, “Who was he?” Referring to the man who caused all of this.
“I don’t know.”
“People are dead. The bombing, the setup....the doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than “I don’t know”. Presses Steve as Bucky’s face shifts into concentrated thought.
“He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.” Explains Bucky as his eyes flash over to yours, it wasn’t just him they kept locked away under the ice.
Steve’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “Why would he need to know that?”
Hugging your sides, you hum, giving Steve a dreadful knowing look, “Because he’s not the only Winter Soldier.”
——
Leaning on the white, paint chipped wall to Bucky’s right, he sits on the wooden box with his hands laced together. Steve against the wall in front of him, arms crossed and a hard expression adorning his dirt smudged features, “Who were they?”
“They’re most elite death squad. More kills second to only one in all of Hydra’s history.” Admits Bucky with an unenthusiastic sigh, “And that was before the serum.”
“Who was the first?” Asks Steve.
“Me.” You begrudgingly mutter as the three boys look over to you, all expressing various shades of interest, pity, fear, and amazement. Yeah you’re not proud about it either.
Noticing the building awkwardness, and how your eyes stare daggers at the dirty floor, Sam joins the conversation, “They all turn out like you?” Eyes set on Bucky.
Sighing, Bucky looks at nothing particularly interesting to his left, “Worse.”
“The doctor, could he control them?” Wonders Steve.
Eyes shifting back down to the floor, Bucky mutters, “Enough.”
“Said he wanted to see an empire fall.” Says Steve, reciting the doctors words as he tries to think up why.
“With these guys he could do it.” You add after a brief moment, “They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight....infiltrated, assassinate, destabilize. They could take a whole country down in one night, you’d never see them coming.”
Bucky nods in silent agreement as Steve weighs the options while Sam wanders over to his side, “This would have been a lot easier a week ago.” He whispers, though you can still hear them anyway.
“If we call Tony...” Quietly suggests Steve.
“No he won’t believe us.”
“Even if he did...”
“Who knows if the Accords would let him help.” Finishes Sam.
The two men stand silently for a moment, thinking hard about the right course of action as their brows furrow thoughtfully before Steve whispers a half defeated, “We’re on our own.”
Sam then gives him a positive look, “Maybe not.” As Steve sends him a doubtful glance while Sam simply smirks with a knowing tilt of his head, “I know a guy.”
——
Standing in an old run down junk yard on the far outskirts of Berlin, your back pressed against an old milk truck as Steve and Sam search for a useable car that can hold two super soldiers, an ex military pilot, and a grumpy sixty two year old assassin.
Bucky wanders away from their bickering and slowly walks over to you as your gaze stays firmly trained onto the gravelly earth below. Soon enough his dark shoes are blocking your staring contest with the ground, “Y/N please talk to me.” Pleads Bucky as you gingerly raise your gaze to meet his soft one, “Tell me what’s wrong. Please? I know that look, something happened while I was him didn’t it?”
Biting your lower lip anxiously, you breath a heavy sigh before weakly shrugging, “I don’t wanna talk about it. You’re not exactly gonna like it.”
Understanding the warning and how noticeably uncomfortable you are, Bucky frowns, though he reaches his hands to gently touch your tense shoulders anyway, “It doesn’t matter. We tell each other everything, promise?”
Staring into his soft gaze with the tiniest bit of hope, you reluctantly nod as he trails his hands down your arms to gently grasp your shaking fingers with his, huh, you didn’t even notice you were shaking. You swallow thickly before giving his hands a reassuring squeeze, “When the doctor got into your head....no matter how much I screamed and begged him to stop, or you to snap out of it. Nothing worked. You broke out of the glass cage and then I broke out of mine, then uh..” You pause a moment, swallowing nervously before whispering, “...the doctor ordered you to kill me.”
Bucky’s eyes immediately sadden as you share a weak smile before continuing on, “I couldn’t kill you. Even though I had the chance to....I couldn’t. But the Winter Soldier wouldn’t stop unless I did. So I let him think you killed me.” You watch as his lip quivers, heart thudding rapidly in his chest as he looks down at the earth in shame and regret. So much hate for what he had done even if he doesn’t remember anything.
Witnessing him deal with this heavy news breaks your heart in two, ripping your hands from his, he’s instantly caught in a huge bear hug from you. Quickly his strong arms wrap protectively around your waist as he pulls you into his chest, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry.” Mumbles Bucky against your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck.
“It was the only way. You would have done the same if you were in my shoes. No hard feelings okay Buck, I love you and that’s all that matters.”
Suddenly he pulls away from your neck to gaze lovingly into your dreary yet beautiful eyes, raspy voice above a whisper, “You love me?” He asks in astonishment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his kissable pink lips.
Breaking out into a beaming grin, you slowly nod, “Of course I do. Guess I should have told you before all this shit happened.....didn’t find the time.”
Chuckling, Bucky presses his forehead flush with yours, “Y/N, I love you so fucking much.” Reveals your lover before swiftly pulling you in for a heated embrace.
His lips move masterfully against your own in the bright mid sun of the day, bringing a sense of great joy and warmth bursting into your chest as he kisses you with the love of a thousand beautiful moons in the starry night sky. But all too soon are you interrupted by the sudden whistle from Sam as he steals away this brief affectionate moment.
Breaking from the kiss, you and Bucky turn to face the irritating man as he smiles a bright satisfied grin, “Come on you two love birds, we found a keeper out back!” Before beckoning you both over with an enthusiastically dramatic wave of his hands.
Holding tightly onto Bucky, you practically growl, “I’m gonna break his arm.”
Quickly turning to face you he hums, “We’re wanted criminals remember, no breaking anyone. Got it.” Snickers Bucky cheekily as you lightly peck his cheek.
“What’s another thing added to the list?” You muse before letting him go and walking towards wherever Steve and Sam are, Bucky following close behind.
——
Seated to Bucky’s immediate left, shoulders smooshed against each other, you make a face as Steve and the blonde woman Sharon, get out of their respective vehicles. Eyes flickering over to Sam, who’s conveniently seated in the passenger seat, you frown in annoyance, “You’d think we could have gotten a bigger car.”
“It’s all they had.” Replies Sam with the ghost of a humored smile as he watches the two blondes stand beside one another while Sharon pops open the trunk to reveal his suit and Steve’s shield.
“I could have just stolen a bigger car.” You mutter to yourself as Bucky stifles a laugh.
More long moments go by, causing you to shift uncomfortably as you hopelessly try to find a suitable position in the cramped ugly old blue buggy. Noticing your discomfort and his own for that matter, Bucky stares at the back of Sam’s head, “Can you move your seat up?”
“No.” Deadpans Sam while you throw him a glare through the side mirror. Huffing in irritation, you shuffle closer to the left door as Bucky shifts a bit for some more leg room; Sam no doubt absolutely loving this.
Rolling your eyes, the three of you continue watching Steve and Sharon talk about whatever happens to be important at the moment, soon they stop and give each other an unsure look before Steve randomly pulls her in for a smooch. Your brows immediately raise in surprise while Sam and Bucky give him proud brotherly smiles when he looks back at the buggy. Face falling in slight embarrassment for being caught.
Soon after he drives the three of you to some airport parking garage, the ride goes decently smooth with the exception of being practically squashed between the car door and Bucky’s beefy ass. Rolling past a white van, Steve parks the little buggy about two parking spaces away before everyone files out.
You watch as he walks over to greet a man as a brunette woman accompanies his left side; your eyes travel cautiously between the two as you seat yourself on the edge of the buggy’s roof while Bucky leans his elbows against the top near your one hand placed there for support.
Soon the first man opens up the sliding van door to reveal a dark haired guy who immediately flinches and awakens with a start. He squints at the intrusion of sunlight before slowly making his way out of the vans door, “What time zone is this?” He questions, obviously dealing with some sort of jet lag.
The first guy nods towards Steve, “Come on. Come on.” Pushing him towards the one and only....
“Captain America!” Softly exclaims the man in excitement, eyes bright with bewilderment as he quickly shakes hands with Steve who mutters, “Mr. Lang.” In acknowledgment.
“It’s an honor.” Says this Lang guy while he continues to excessively shake his hand, “I’m shaking your hand to long. Wow! This is awesome!” Mr. Lang pulls away before pointing at Steve while he turns to the first man and the brunette, “Captain America. Hey, I know you, too. You’re great!” The woman hands him a bright pursed lip grin as Mr. Lang turns back to Steve.
“Jeez. Ah, look, I wanna say, I don’t know a lot of super people, so....thinks for thanking of me.” He quickly mutters with those exact words, a second later his eyes shift over to Sam, “Hey, man!”
Sam nods, “What’s up, Tic Tac?”
“Uh, good to see you. Look, what happened last time when I...”
“It was a great audition, but it’ll never happen again.” Muses Sam as you look over your shoulder to send Bucky a curious look that is well returned.
“They tell you what we’re up against?” Interjects Steve, bringing the central objective back on the table.
Mr. Lang’s brows furrow in thought as he mutters, “Something about some psycho-assassins?” Yeah, that’s one way to put it.
“We’re outside the law on this one. So if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.” Warns Steve.
Mr. Lang shrugs, “Yeah, well, what else is new?”
“We should get moving.” Urges Bucky as you nod.
The first man speaks up again, “We got a chopper lined up.”
Suddenly warning sirens sound out loudly throughout the airport as a German voice advises everyone to leave the premises immediately; understanding exactly what’s being said you gain everyone’s attention, “They’re evacuating the airport.”
Their faces show deep concern, as they turns to face one another, “Stark.”
“Stark?” Questions Sam.
Steve reluctantly nods before addressing the rest of the team, “Suit up.”
-
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Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 3 of 27: Honesty
Summary:  Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?
CHAPTER 2
A/N: I’ve come to the realization that I’ve changed so much in this story during the past few days and added some chapters that it can probably already count as a slow-burn fic. I guess. Not sure. Have fun! Thanks for the lovely feedback! I love you all to death <3
Words: 3583 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing
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It was weird being back at Hogwarts. Something about it still didn’t feel right. After the war, it was unimaginable for you to come back here and finish school. But they took their time and closed it off for over a year. The school got rebuilt, the victims buried, the survivors tried to heal and move on. On the first anniversary of the end of the war, McGonagall – the new headmistress of Hogwarts – publicly announced that the school would open for the coming year and the seventh graders were given the chance to repeat their year.
You were excited about coming back and seeing your friends again, gaining a little bit of normalcy. School, homework, petty drama – you wanted nothing more than to be busy with all of those things. Yet something felt different when you stood in the Great Hall for the first time after your arrival. Something had changed. You had changed.
“You’re daydreaming again, Y/N.”
Ginny’s voice pulled you back into reality. Your best friend sat across from you with her eyebrows raised, chewing on a croissant.
“Tired,” you replied and smiled briefly.
“From what?”, she asked. “You left super early last night!”
“Yeah, because it was super boring.”
The redhead shook her head. “It was not! There was a fight between two Hufflepuffs and that’s the best indicator for a fun party.”
You chuckled. “Is it though?!”
“Or,” suddenly she put down her croissant. A devious smile appeared on her face and she began talking with a lowered voice: “Did you leave the party early with your date to –”
“I beg you to not finish that sentence, please!”
Ginny laughed. “Oh come on! McLaggen is kinda cute!”
“He’s awful.”
“He doesn’t need a good character to –”
“Ginny!” You playfully threw an apple at her. She caught it, laughing. “You’re the worst,” you said and shook your head.
Just when you wanted to change the topic, someone else started walked in. You stopped midsentence, staring at the couple who were coming down the hall, holding hands.
Ginny saw them too and she knew what you were about to do next. “Don’t, Y/N,” she said softly. “Stay here. At some point, you’ll have to face them. They’re our friends. He’s my brother. We have classes together now.”
You knew she was right. Yet, running away still seemed like a better option to you. Ginny sensed that, reached over the table and squeezed your hand. “Stay,” she repeated.
Ron and Hermione sat down right beside you, cheerfully wishing you a good morning. You didn’t reply but smiled at Harry instead who sat down next to Ginny and gave her a kiss. They were a cute couple and you were happy for the both of them. They finally found each other.
The four began to talk right away. It was still exciting to be in the same year as them, to finally share classes and spend so much time together. Well, not for you to be honest. You could happily live without seeing Ron every day.
You tuned out their conversation after a while, still debating whether or not you should leave the table. Your eyes drifted over the other students in the Great Hall and got stuck at the Slytherins. Not many people sat there as most of them had already finished breakfast. Before you knew what you were doing, you noticed he wasn’t here.
You felt a little sting of disappointment and frowned. Where did this came from? As if you cared about seeing Malfoy.
Saying that you didn’t replay that kiss in your mind over and over again would have been a lie. When you left the small room last night, you felt dizzy and confused. Yet you repeatedly told yourself that the kiss meant nothing. It happened so you didn’t get caught. Good god, it was Draco Malfoy, probably the last person in this school you wanted to kiss (well, besides McLaggen). So no. This kiss didn’t mean anything.
“Y/N?”, you turned your head when Hermione said your name.
“Why are you staring at the Slytherins?”, she asked.
You shrugged but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “No reason. I was thinking.”
She frowned. Ginny and Harry looked at each other in confusion.
“So? What is it?”, you asked.
“Right, um, we wanted to ask if you’d like to come play Quidditch with us?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you play Quidditch?”
“Ron taught me over the summer,” she smiled at her boyfriend. “Besides, they have to try out for the team in two weeks anyways so why not practice a little.”
You looked at Ron who stared at his plate. He probably felt as comfortable with the thought of you playing together as you did. The way he avoided your eyes made you angry though.
“No, sorry”, you quickly said and suddenly stood up. “Homework.” This was it. You had to leave.
 ***
You gritted your teeth angrily as you made your way up the stairs. God, you still hated him for how he treated you three months ago. You were supposed to be friends and he fucked it all up. Now you could barely stand the sight of him and every encounter left you feeling like you needed to punch a brick wall.
Being so lost in your thoughts, you almost ran around the corner, crashing into someone.
“Watch it, Y/L/N!”
Great.
“Watch it yourself, Malfoy!”, you snapped.
Draco Malfoy stood in front of you, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other gripping your arm to prevent you from falling down. It must have been out of instinct because as soon as he realized he was touching you, he let go as if you were a hot plate.
“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he stated dryly.
“Shut up,” you mumbled, lowering the tone of your voice a little. “And let me through.”
He did neither. “Did McLaggen find you after all?!”
“None of your business, Malfoy!” With that, you pushed him aside and continued walking down the corridor. You were too mad for Malfoys bullshit.
“Y/L/N!” Apparently he was particular talkative this morning.
You ignored him.
“I couldn’t care less for your obvious boy troubles –”
Who did he think he was?!
“– however, I still have something that belongs to you.”
This made you stop dead in your tracks and turn around. “What?”, you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
He smirked. “Your shoe.”
Oh. Oops.
Annoyed, you shrugged. “So give it back to me.”
“It’s in the Slytherin common room.”
“I’d rather die than go down there.”
“I’d change the attitude if I were you. After all, you want something from me,” his voice grew colder.
You were unimpressed by that. “Make me,” you shot back.
There it was again – that look on his face. The same look he had yesterday as he gazed over your body in the small room. It made you shiver – and for a second you weren’t sure if it was the good or the bad kind of shiver.
Then he smirked again: “Quidditch field. Tonight after dinner.” And while he already started walking backwards he added: “I’d rather die than be caught talking to a Gryffindor.”
Goddamn Slytherins.
***
It was unusually cold for a September night. You shivered and zipped up your jacket, regretting that you didn’t bring a scarf. No student or teacher seemed to be outside at this time, only the occasional crow flying above your head and the rustling of leaves accompanied you on your way to the Quidditch field.
The reason why Malfoy chose the Quidditch field of all places to give you back your shoe was beyond your knowledge. Yet you didn’t complain. In about half an hour, your friends would join you. Before the war, this was one of your favourite spots to just hang out and talk.
When you arrived on the field, it took you a while to spot Malfoy. He sat way up on the bleachers. You groaned and made your way up the stairs. Malfoy didn’t notice that you came as he was busy writing something in a small green notebook. Huh. Interesting.
He flinched when you sat down beside him and quickly closed the book.
“What are you writing?”, you asked curiously.
Malfoy pretended not to hear your question and instead reached inside his bag. “Here,” he pulled out your shoe, handing it to you.
“Thanks,” you put in the small bag you brought. “So what are you writing?”
He looked at you with an annoyed expression. “You have what you want so you can go.”
“You’re no fun, Malfoy.”
“Says the Gryffindor.”
“Excuse me?”, you raised an eyebrow. “We’re more fun than all the Slytherins combined.”
“Right,” he scoffed.
Still, you didn’t move or leave so with a sigh, he added: “Do you have no friends to bother?”
You grinned. “I do. In fact, they’ll be here in –”, you took a look at your watch, “– twenty minutes.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”
“Why did you tell me to meet you here?”
“I was gonna be here anyways,” he shrugged. “Easier to make you come to me.”
You ignored his sly remark. “You were going to be here anyways? Alone?”
Another shrug.
Leaning back, you watched Malfoy from the side. He had dark circles under his eyes and kept his gaze focused on the field, his fingers playing with the sides of the notebook. Something (beside you sitting next to him) bothered him.
“So what was up with you this morning?”, he broke the silence.
You raised an eyebrow. “As if you care.”
“No,” he admitted. “But you’re obviously not leaving until your friends come and that question might make you stop staring at me.”
You chuckled softly. Then you realized that he was actually waiting for an answer. “Nothing important.”
“I figured.”
“You’re a jerk.”
“Probably,” Malfoy stated without any emotion in his voice.
You were silent for a few seconds. Part of you wanted to get up and leave. After all, Malfoy was probably the last one you could trust. He didn’t care and it was literally none of his business. You didn’t even like each other. Keeping it simple and vague was probably the best approach: “Dumb stuff, really. Like you said – boy troubles.”
Malfoy shifted without noticing it, turning his body more towards you, leaning in a little. “Well, now I’m curious. Who managed to make Y/L/N this mad and can he teach me?”
“I don’t know if you’re keen on Ron being your teacher,” the sentence just slipped out. You regretted it right away.
Malfoys eyes widened. “No fucking way.” Then he began to smirk – that evil, ‘I’m-better-than-you’-smirk he had perfected over the years.
Your face felt like it was on fire and you were glad it was getting dark already. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the blush. “Oh, be quiet!”
“Weasley?”, he scoffed, not believing it. He stared at you with quite the interest now. There seemed to be a lot more to you than he would have guessed. “How the fuck did that happen? Isn’t he dating the … isn’t he dating Granger?”
You knew what he wanted to call her but were surprised that he stopped himself. That never happened before.
“Yes, he is,” you mumbled and gave him a suggestive look.
This caused Malfoy to laugh. It was a dry, short laugh. He leaned back a little. “You’re kidding, right? Fucking hell, Weasel managed to not only screw you but do so while dating Granger?”
“I like how eloquently you phrased that,” you said sarcastically.
He ignored you. “How did that happen?”
“Okay, first of all”, you began, “… they weren’t dating when it happened. I’m not a homewrecker, that’s probably more of a Slytherin thing.”
“Does she know?”
“Know what?”
“Does Granger know you two f–”
“Geez, Malfoy, watch your language,” you interrupted him quickly, before you added: “And no.”
“So cheating isn’t a Gryffindor thing but lying is?”, Malfoy concluded, smirking again. “Good to know.”
“Oh, shut up,” you raised your chin. You were right about this in the beginning – you shouldn’t have told him anything. How were you supposed to get this right? Even though there was no reason for you to explain yourself to him, you still felt the need to: “They were going through a crisis and broke up and well … I spent a few weeks with their family and I always considered Ron a good friend but … but something happened. And then he ended things with me and got back together with Granger. Well, he got back together with her first and announced it in front of everyone, including me.”
“That’s how he told you that you two were over?”
You nodded. “Yup.”
“Phew,” Malfoy let out a whistle. “Wow. I must admit, I’m impressed.”
“Sure you are.”
Suddenly Malfoys facial expression changed from amusement to confusion. “So what’s the big deal now? You two screwed a few times and now he’s playing house with Granger again.”
You sent him another suggestive glance which caused him to let out another laugh.
“Please don’t tell me you got feelings for the Weasel,” he said in complete disbelief. Then his eyes suddenly began to wander further down and you realized he was looking at your … body. Rude. Before you got the chance to put him in his place, he simply said: “You can do a lot better, y’know.”
Oh. This was unexpected. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks again and felt actually a little flattered by his words. Yet, they confused you. Why would he give a Gryffindor a compliment?! Was there a hidden insult in it? Maybe a slight undertone you didn’t notice?
“It goes without saying that this conversation stays between us,” you cleared your throat. “No one knows about this whole mess except Ginny. And you.”
Malfoy nodded. “You put an awful lot of trust in me.”
“Don’t disappoint me then.”
The two of you were quiet for a few moments. It was almost completely dark by now and a nervous glance to your watch made you aware that Ginny and the rest of her friends might appear any second now. The silence grew uncomfortable after a while.
“What’s up with that whole engagement thing, you mentioned yesterday?”, you wanted to know, remembering that weird comment of him. “And don’t act all mysterious again. I told you my mess now you have to share yours.”
Malfoy snorted. “Ask away.”
This was easier than expected. “Are you dating the little Greengrass?” Totally understandable if he was – Astoria was the perfect mixture of smart and drop dead gorgeous. A lot of guys were into her.
“No.”
“She called you ‘honey’.”
“Yes.”
You frowned. “I’m confused.”
“Do I really have to explain to you how pureblood marriages work?”, Malfoy said with a mocking undertone.
“Of course not. I just thought we left that behind us when the war ended”, you remarked.
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “As if hundreds of years of tradition can be forgotten with one war.”
“So you’re forced to marry her?”, you tried to understand the situation better.
“No, it’s an arranged marriage which is not even official yet,” Malfoy shifted slightly. “Mother would like it because the Greengrass family is still respected and …”
“… rich.”
He glanced at you quickly. “We lost a lot.”
“I bet,” you scoffed.
Abruptly, Malfoy got up and grabbed his bag. “I should leave.”
Out of instinct, you extended your hand to reach for him but stopped just inches in front of his arm. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that”, you apologized. Feelings of guilt and pity appeared inside of you as you didn’t expect him to be so openly hurt by what you said. “I heard … well, everyone heard about the trials and your parents and all that. Sorry.”
Malfoy hesitated but then sat down again. His whole demeanour had changed in just seconds. He had almost been … approachable but now the look in his eyes was as cold as ice again.
You cleared your throat. “Do you want to marry her?”
He didn’t answer right away. You wondered what went through his head in this moment.
“I don’t ask myself that.”
The answer didn’t surprise you. “Why not?”, you tried to dig deeper.
Again, a few seconds passed before he mumbled: “No, I don’t want to marry her. I hardly know her.”
“Hmm,” you nodded. “Does she want to marry you?”
“I don’t know”, he gave a half shrug. “She had a thing with Zabini over the summer so I guess … I’m probably not her first choice.”
The answer to all of his problems seemed so easy, you thought. Yet it would be met with much apprehension. Traditional pureblood families like his were difficult when it came to this stuff.
Knowing what his reaction would be, you still had to say it: “So don’t get engaged.” Before he could reply, you raised your hand. “Yeah, I know, traditions and all that bullshit. Why don’t you just start breaking traditions?”
Malfoy shook his head. “My family works a little different than yours.
“Not that different to be honest”, you whispered under your breath.
He heard you and you were met with a very confused look. When you didn’t elaborate, he continued talking: “Anyways, I can’t. I could try to postpone but I’d need a very convincing reason.”
“Like?”
“Another girl from a good family.”
“And?”
“And what?”
A grin appeared on your face. “There are at least ten girls I can name right away who’d love to get a shot with you.”
Seriously, even most of the Gryffindor girls your age had been crushing on Malfoy at least once. He was very attractive and clever and that whole ‘bad boy’-act made quite a few girls weak in their knees. You had noticed this too but being so close friends with Ginny and Harry those thoughts never found room to grow inside of you. In your mind, Malfoy had always been an arrogant jerk. Still is, you corrected yourself quietly.
“Have you spoken with them since I became a –”
… a Death Eater, you finished the sentence in your head. Looking at the young man in front of you, wearing his school scarf while sitting in a sports stadium, the whole concept of him being a dangerous criminal just seemed absurd to you.
“Besides it’s a dumb idea”, he continued. “It would be a fake relationship and no one in their right mind would agree to that.” He let out a dry laugh. “Only a Gryffindor can think of something like that.”
In that moment, your eyes met. Never before did you notice the unusual colors in them like you did now. The piercing grey reminded you of storm clouds on an autumns day. Yeah, a fake relationship. Who in their right mind would … Unless …
The sudden thought that appeared in your mind made you flinch. He seemed to be thinking the same when he quickly broke the eye contact, straightening up and staring over at the field.
You got up in a rush, swinging your back over your shoulder. To your big relief, Ginny and your friends had just entered the Quidditch field. Their laughter echoed through the whole area.
„I should go. There’s Ginny.”
He nodded. “Right.”
“Thanks for the shoe.” Could this situation be any more awkward?! You doubted it. Hastily you turned around and almost stumbled over your own feet when you made our way back to the stairs. Something else came suddenly to your mind.
“Oh, and Malfoy?”, you stopped. He didn’t turn to look at you but you knew he heard you by the way he slightly moved his head. “I know a lot of fucked up stuff happened and pureblood families are the worst but … but don’t spend the rest of the year sitting here alone. I bet that there are still quite a few of your Slytherin friends that want to spend time with you.”
There was nothing you expected him to say in response to that so it surprised you when he suddenly said your name. “Y/L/N?”
“Yes?”
“Get over Weasley. It’s beneath you.”
You were glad he didn’t see the big grin on your face.
 ***
Ginny was surprised to see you coming down the stairs and running across the field. She wondered what you did up there and frowned when he saw a guy sitting there with the all too familiar white-blond hair.
“Is that Malfoy up there? Were you talking to him?”, she wanted to know when you finally reached the group.
“Oh, um,” you stuttered. “We ran into each other.
Ginny squinted her eyes. “Right”, she doubted. “How did you –”
Bang! You let out a short scream at the sudden noise.
“Sorry!” Someone shouted and a very distressed looking Seamus Finnigan appeared behind dark smoke.
“What the hell did you do?” Ginny squeaked and with that she forgot all about Malfoy.
You looked back up to where he was sitting just a minute ago. He was gone now. A weird feeling was left inside of you after the rather unusual conversation you had with the Slytherin. You shook your head, trying to get rid of it and turned your full attention back to your friends.
***
I hope you like it! I’d love to hear what you thought about it! <3
CHAPTER 4
“Choose Me Instead”-Masterlist HP-Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701​, @youareinllve​, @sjmahoney​, @detroitobsessed​, @takura-rin​, @jadam268​, @wynterwind​, @mina672 , @renaissance-confiance​, @harpoon999​, @doitforthevine67​, @rinasrights​, @flowerpowerpixie​, @gold-flowing​, @starkssnarks​, @bookcornerkins​, @harpersmariano​, @markedsweetly​, @iraniq​, @pointlesscoconut​, @hvrcruxes​, @pillowjj​, @idkatee​, @jungjxxhyun, @magicwithaknife​, @graystherapy​
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vegalocity · 3 years
Note
Kiss 9- first kiss for Amnesia Spicynoodles? (Whether as Red Boy and Xiaotian or Red Son and MK, your choice).
Affection meme
9. first kiss
Goddamn i gotta get back on that AU
That's actually a very clever shorthand for the difference between 'the Son of the Monkey King' and 'The Monkie Kid' Anon hope you don't mind me using it!
Also since this is technically the first real THING i'm writing for this Au it got a lil crazy
--
It was.... weird... falling into this rhythm with Red Son.
Even he'd seemed surprised at how quickly he'd agreed to join their team while they were hunting down the weapon that could finally end the Lady Bone Demon. Sure he'd reasoned that he was doing it for the sake of his father, that their family had been taken advantage of by that demon, and this was little more than 'enemy of my enemy' but barely time at all had passed before he may as well have joined simply because he wanted to.
There weren't a lot of bunks on Sandy's Hovership, and at the start of all of this, everyone was so on edge (and in Monkey King's case injured) that it just made more sense to sleep whenever it struck rather than sort out bedroom options and who bunked with whom.
Which had lead to some interesting things so far, such as Monkey King tending to curl up against Tang as he was reading or something and taking a nap right there and how Tang seemed like... wayyy too comfortable with it despite how he'd first reacted to seeing him on New Years.
Pigsy was ALWAYS crabby in the mornings, but he was getting exponentially more frustrated after waking up for something or another he never seemed to be able to relay when he woke (probably some frustrating reoccurring dream that keeps blotting out when he wakes up, MK didn't remember his dreams much either so he could relate)
And about thee days in of Red Son working with them, he'd knocked out during some down time, and while he was sitting near him. The ship rumbled, Red Son hadn't woken, but he slid to the side until he was leaned against MK's shoulder. and... It was comfy. Red Son was warm, and soft.
And before he'd known it he was being startled awake by Xiaojiao making delighted cooing noises and the flash of her camera. And when he jostled Red Son woke up as well. He'd met his gaze for a second and his artist brain noted that his eyes were a rather lovely shade of amber, not even fiery orange or honey brown, but pure, precious stone amber.
and for a moment it had felt... nostalgic... in a way he couldn't place. and the puzzled look on Red Son's face mirrored his confusion at the sudden thought, before the demon slammed up the walls again and pushed MK away, face burning bright red.
But from there it had spiraled.
It was just so... easy? he supposed would be the word. It was almost startling how easy it was to fall into this rhythm with Red Son. Not a few months ago he was a nominal enemy, yet here they were finding themselves sitting next to eachother more often than not, sometimes close enough for shoulders to brush, their unconscious bodies rolling over at once to tangle together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
At one point they were facing a demon that had cast one of those 'greatest fear' spells over the lot of them, and before it had hit he'd felt Red Son slip his hand into his own with a small startled gasp. And before the world went black and he was covered by spiders and the looming specter of his own failures he'd squeezed back.
That had actually happened just hours ago, and MK's hand was still tingly. Everyone was a little shaken up from that one. (Monkey King had holed himself away in one of the few bedrooms there were and he sounded physically pained when MK had tried to check in on him and he'd answered that he'd rather be alone. he was pretty sure Tang was allowed in, and he tried not to take that personally. It was probably a whole 'Mentor doesn't want his student to see him freaked out' thing. If he didn't stop taking everything so damn personally he'd be a sucker for the next fear spell or whatever.) And unlike the others, Red Son didn't have any loved ones on this ship to help reassure him.
So... if their... something or another... that had been developing was gonna mean anything, that probably meant it should fall on him.
Red Son was where he'd expected him to be, half buried in engine guts in Sandy's work area, his hands were shaking and there was a far off look in his eye.
MK had to physically lift him and drag him away, and it was a lot harder without the Mystic Monkie Strength, but he managed.
in fact he'd gotten all the way to the kitchen area and Red Son had stopped struggling in his arms screeching to be let go (yet never trying to flare his fire and forcing MK to drop him) before his stamina gave out and he had to deposit Red Son in one of the chairs.
"Noodle boy i swear this truce will end in an INSTANT if you do not explain yourself-"
"You're freaking out."
"YES I AM! You would be too if your current ally just lifted you up from what you were doing and carried you to the deserted part of the ship because even the Pig is too on edge to be in here!"
"I mean from this afternoon. Red son, you've been pale as a sheet since we got out of there and your hands are STILL shaking." He watched as he hurriedly hid them in his pockets. "You need to talk to someone. And it may as well be me."
"I- I don't need to talk about ANYTHING! Presumptuous Noodle Boy... Bold of you to assume I'd just pour my heart out at some perceived internal detriment which you have no proof even exists!" The bluster and casual insults were considerably less convincing than they were when they were enemies...
...maybe he was just starting to see through them better.
Red Son pulled his hands back onto the table, as a sort of subtle show of how fine he totally was, and clenched his fists to keep them from continuing to shake.
"Red..." The nickname felt... natural. He couldn't quite explain why, but he supposed they'd been Something-or-Another-ing long enough to make it reasonable. Red Son's glare abated and was replaced quickly with a shocked expression. But he didn't shout to not be called something so short, so MK considered that a signal to continue. So he continued with what felt natural and placed a hand over his clenched fist.
The defensive anger was all but gone. And that puzzled, yet slightly awed look he kept sharing with Red Son during moments like these replaced it and those amber eyes darted down to their linked hands, as if he didn't quite know what to do next.
Eventually Red Son came to a decision, and MK let him fiddle around with his grip until their hands were linked properly. And it felt... it was that weird sense of nostalgia again. And as everything else neither of them could quite explain it felt right. familiar. Natural.
"It's not really worth talking about." Red Son responded after the moment passed. yet he didn't pull his hand away. "I know better than to believe what it had showed me."
"Red-"
"I mean, I SHOULD know better, right?" He looked away from MK then, but squeezed his hand a little tighter. "I mean- they're my parents. and they agreed me coming along with you all to take down the Lady Bone Demon was the best course of action. I know they wouldn't disown me because they believed I was becoming more aligned with you all than with the family. That just because we're friends doesn't mean I'm somehow betraying them!" Red Son was working through it in his head, and he didn't seem to really realize that he'd admitted to seeing MK as a friend, so he just squeezed his hand a little tighter and filed that away to celebrate later.
"It's irrational, and it's ridiculous that I actually feared the idea."
"It's not ridiculous, If you think it's irrational then it probably is, but it's not ridiculous. " Red Son looked back at him then and raised a brow. "I mean, who isn't afraid that they're letting their parents down in some way?" He remembered how nervous Xiaojiao was about the idea of disappointing her family, and he was always worried that he'd disappointed his fath-....
What was he thinking about again?.... right, Xiaojiao and her parents.
Red Son took his attention again and the confusion zipped right out of his mind. he gently detangled his hand from MK's and was moving to stand.
"I suppose you're right. And... In that regard I should probably thank you for allowing me the chance to properly process."
"Anytime, Red."
He stood as well, with nowhere else to go, he supposed he'd probably just go out onto the deck and do a little one-man training, heavens knew he needed it.
Red Son put a hand on his shoulder before either of them could pull away and when he turned back to face the demon-
Red Son was looking at him with intent. determination. And it was only then that MK realized that maybe holding someone's hand while they talked about some Real Shit with you, constantly sitting next to each other so as to be closer, falling asleep on each other, and sometimes when you wake up you glance at their mouth wondering how easy it would be to just...
Maybe that wasn't just all friendship overtures.
And maybe they'd had a name for their little something-or-another already.
Neither of them were ever very good at this whole 'self control' thing anyway.
Red Son was just as warm as he'd anticipated. His calloused fingers hooking under his chin as if to keep MK in place. And it was... chaste. Nothing like the fierce passionate devouring of another's mouth that he'd anticipated a demon to go for (that he'd daydreamed about) Almost... child-like. As if Red Son hadn't kissed anyone since before he hit Demon Puberty and didn't know how to do it right. And the action alone made MK feel very much like a child as well. Which was ridiculous he was a grownass man and Red Son was a fully matured demon, and the shortest most chaste little peck made him feel like a squeaky voiced kid.
When they parted he peeked his eyes open just a bit, and it seemed like Red Son had realized the same thing, the two of them shared a soft chuckle.
But then Red Son started to pull away, and that wouldn't do. MK wrapped his arms around the demon's shoulders and properly kissed him this time.
And it didn't feel quite as natural, but it did feel right.
So that was what mattered.
--
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