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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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You’re gonna go far, kid [Punk! England x reader]

Synopsis: Ever since coming to England to study, you haven’t had the time to do what made you come in the first place--tourism! The only friend you have is an exchange student from Russia, Ivan, so why not kill two birds with one stone? He schedules a little playdate with Arthur, a local, so he can show you around the hottest spots in London. You two immediately hit it off. Ivan is quick to notice his interest in you, so he starts teasing the poor man and making things hard for him. Camden is the last destination, and there’s no saying when he’ll ever see you again. Will he be able to get over himself and ask you out before the night ends? Note: Attractions are italicized and have a link to a picture. Wordcount: 4,641 The reader is referred to as she/her.

This was the day you had been dreading, and yet, looking forward to. The first part was easy to explain. Picking up your hot latte, you set it down after a quick sip. You didn’t even have time to enjoy it. Not when you were typing away at your keyboard like a speed demon. You promised your friend you would finish your assignment before today’s meet-up, but your procrastination habits were a bitch. Nevertheless, you were eager to uphold your side of the deal, even if it meant stressing your hair out to get it done.

So long as he didn’t show up before you were done, right?

After burning your tongue for the second time that morning, you let out a small groan at the sting you felt but gasped at what you saw outside the window. It was a sound made from genuine terror--rather than the quiet streets of London at seven AM, you spotted a man pressing his face right up to the glass. And he was staring at you, menacingly.

Anybody would’ve been creeped out by the sight, but you knew the guy. “Aha--Ivan! Hey! Morning?” You began rather awkwardly.

He waved in response, and his glower melted away in exchange for a childlike smile. “Dobroye utro, (F/N)! I hope that’s not your assignment you’re doing.” He hummed, placing two hands on the glass to peer at your screen from outside. Oh shit. Glancing briefly at said screen, you turned it away before clicking the upload button.

“Of course not.” You grinned, shutting your laptop immediately after. “I was just... Surfing the net. Checking Instagram. You know?”

“Is that so? I’m gonna check.” He made his way inside. And in no time, he was looming over your shoulder to start browsing through your internet history. You, on the other hand, were sweating balls.

“You’re so funny, (F/N). Who checks Instagram on their computer?”

It seemed like only yesterday he was the oblivious exchange student from Russia who had no concept of social media. He had been a country bumpkin through and through, but a few semesters after befriending you, your influence rubbed off on him. Even you had no idea what went through your head when decided to talk to him, the intimidating new kid who spoke broken English, but there was no turning back now. He was attached to you by the hip and picked up on your habits faster than you could deal.

He only became more of a menace when he discovered Twitter.

A displeased expression contorted at his expression when he saw that there was no evidence of you ‘surfing the net’. Google Docs couldn’t possibly count, after all. “... Hm... Apparently, not you. Why didn’t you finish this yesterday, sunflower? Remember our promise?”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I passed out last night. But hey, I technically finished it before you came, didn’t I?”

He craned his head from side to side in thought. “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, you know what that means.” Ivan coiled his arms around your neck and a sickeningly sweet smile curled up at his lips.

“You will come with me to Moscow for Christmas!”

A chill ran down your spine at the thought. Going to Russia was bad enough. But during Winter? You were never good with the cold. If you could barely handle London, Moscow was out of the question. “Oh God, please no.” He nodded giddily. “I’m never going to Russia. Maybe I’d consider it during Summer, but--anyway, that’s not the point here! I didn’t break any promises so I won’t be turning into a popsicle this year. Got that?”

He pouted. “Aw...”

“You damn sadist.”

“Hehe.”

“I wonder how you even became friends with him. Arthur, was it? Poor dude.” You mumbled, but he didn’t look all too offended.

He tapped his chin and hummed. “Now that you mention it.” Then, he let out a short laugh. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it was a happy little accident.”

“Unfortunate.”

“But don’t worry! I don’t plan on bothering you as much as him today.” Ivan clarified, earning a slow nod from you. Phew. The clock was inching closer to eight and you weren’t much of a morning person, so hearing that was like music to your ears. “That’s why I wanted you to finish your work yesterday. I want him to be the only one making mistakes! It’s interesting to see him mess up and get embarrassed.”

You had to wonder if he was using ‘interesting’ as a synonym for fun because he was clapping. “... Ivan, you really are a sadist.”

The two of you stayed in that café for another hour or so, ordering some breakfast during your stay. Once the table was cleared and the bill was paid, you and he caught a bus to the London eye. You could marvel at the iconic ferris wheel for a few minutes as you walked up to the London aquarium next to it, your first stop. The building was huge to start with, and it didn’t look like they’d be storing fish in there considering how fancy it was. But wasn’t everything in England fancy?

“He should be waiting in the front. Look for a short grouchy man with a bad taste in fashion.” You shot him a weird look, beckoning him to elaborate.

“... And blonde hair.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll try my best.” Glancing around the sea of people filled with tourists, couples, and families, you skimmed the crowd for someone who fitted the description--but to no avail. It was only when they walked up to you both did you find the guy. He had short and choppy blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face, and under his fringe was a pair of lime green eyes staring on with a neutral expression. And did Ivan say he had bad taste?

You couldn’t agree. Yes, his charcoal pants were ripped and he had a bandana tied around his neck with a Union Jack on it. But he still had a kind of style you liked. Under his black leather jacket was a gray shirt, and combined with the piercings in his right ear, you couldn’t help admiring him for a second.

“Arthur! I was wondering if you were trampled because we couldn’t find you.” Ivan began, causing the said man to furrow his brows. And boy, were they thick.

“You just arrived, so don’t start now you twat.” He grumbled. Ivan never teased you for your height, even when you were a little shorter than the Brit. He always found it cute, but you figured it was only because you didn’t care. The Russian always found amusement in poking fun at others, after all. “Anywho, I’m glad I won’t be spending the whole day alone with you.”

Turning to you with a soft smile this time, he held out a hand for you to shake. “Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.”

You shook it, but not without a laugh. It hadn’t even been a minute since meeting him, and his personality seemed to clash violently with his appearance. He sounded so prim and proper, but his outfit screamed punk rock.

“(L/N). (F/N) (L/N).”

He released you from his grip. Placing his hands on his hips with an accusing stare, he felt a grin upturn his lips. “Are you copying me, (F/N)?”

“I don’t know. Do all British people introduce themselves like James Bond?”

Arthur clicked his tongue. “... Not all of them. Just a force of habit.”

“Mhm. Right, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m a student here too and I could only imagine how busy it gets for you--so thanks for coming out today!” He didn’t respond to those comments and simply nodded.

Ivan stayed quiet in the back, but he was probably reading the atmosphere like he always did when he didn’t speak.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde turned on his heel and closed his eyes. “As much as I’d like to stay out here and chat, we can do that in the aquarium. Wouldn’t wanna waste our tickets, do we?”

While the group of three wandered slowly through the establishment, Ivan lingered in the background while you walked in the front with the Brit. For the first ten minutes, you’d look at him expectantly, gesturing for him to join in the conversation. As the mutual, wasn’t he supposed to be the icebreaker? He’d shake his head every time, offering you a smile as if to say, go and make some friends. But soon, this brief spell of irritation morphed into gratitude.

“I’ve been here probably a hundred times, so don’t take it personally when I don’t seem as excited as you.” Turning to him to watch his face as he spoke--which was filtered through a bluish tinge from the Antarctic setting-- you only caught a brief glimpse of it before he turned away. Huh. Maybe it was just you not paying enough attention.

Either way, what came out of your mouth next would surely grab his.

“Don’t worry about it. But hey, this is the first time you’ve been here with me, so look alive, won’t you?” It happened to be a slip of the tongue, something bold and improvised, but luckily, he reacted fairly quickly before the regret set in.

“Oi, you better not be flirting with me already,” Arthur grumbled, feeling another smile come as he heard you chuckle. Since when was he this expressive? He pinned it on the fact that he was starting to have a little fun himself.

“Couldn’t imagine it.” Before he could add anything else, you hopped in front of the penguins and started waving your friend over with great gusto. “Ivan, c’mere. Arthur, mind taking a photo of us?” Once he joined your side, the two of you held up peace signs for the Brit to snap a photo.

“Ivan, change your pose. We can’t have both of you doing the same thing.”

The said man moved his peace sign to the back of your head so he could stick two fingers over it. “Is that better?”

“... Better.” Trailing his emerald eyes to you, he felt his cheeks heat up a touch at the sight of you grinning ear to ear. What the fuck, Arthur. Just take the damn photo. And that was exactly what he did, showing you both right after. Whatever just happened, he boiled it down to him idealizing a stranger. That was right. He had yet to get to know you, so his perception of you couldn’t be any better at this stage.

But there was one thing he couldn’t deny.

“Damn, I look really ugly in this. You two better not post this anywhere.” You settled a hand over the screen to lower it with a nervous laugh. Then, you looked away, and what was that? You looked a little flustered.

You were cute.

Hanging his head to look at the photo, he knitted his brows together. You? Ugly? He couldn’t imagine it.

“... I bet I could take an even uglier one of you.”

Spinning back to him, you folded your arms. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head slowly, and the amusement in his voice made it blatantly obvious he was lying.

“That’s what I thought.”

Walking off at that, Ivan followed. Because he was behind him, he could brush his shoulders against his. Arthur looked up at that, but almost wished he didn’t. Ivan was smiling down at him so shrewdly, it was threatening. Then, he raised a hand to his mouth so he could laugh softly. “Huhu. You like (F/N)~”

His eyes flew open and blood rushed up to his face. “What the hell gave you that impression? I literally just met them!” As adamant as he sounded, he knew deep inside he liked you, but only platonically. Your personality was refreshing, and talking to you was as easy as breathing. Even if it wasn’t platonic attraction, he was endlessly frustrated the other figured it out earlier than he could.

Whatever it was, he was certainly more sociable than usual, even to the point of being a tease. And not to mention the rosy cheeks. Maybe he should’ve just kept his trap shut--otherwise, his huge outburst let Ivan milk the obvious. Fuck. He even started to giggle like a schoolchild.

Giving him a rough shove, he muttered a string of curses under his breath. “I bloody hate your arse, you know that?” He hissed, his face now redder than a tomato. God, why he did have to be born so pale? Every slight change to his complexion was jarring, and it was embarrassing.

“Don’t hate me because I’m right,” Ivan hummed, joining his side as your back came into view. “Once you realize, it’ll be too late. I’m not letting you have (F/N). I will always be (F/N)’s number one.” Lighting up at that, he skipped off to you in the front. “Wait for me, sunflower! Don’t leave me alone with Arthur!”

Arthur stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. How annoying. If he was going to continue being a little tyke, then he figured he’d up his game as well. He didn’t know what that exactly entailed yet, but he’d do it. Ivan didn’t even sound like he wanted anything more than friendship, so what was with that? Pointing a finger at him as he walked off with you, his face scrunched up.

“What did you even call me out for then, you idiot? I’m supposed to be guiding you both!” Picking up his pace at that, he slotted himself between you and him. Flashing you a brief smile, he gave Ivan another push without breaking eye contact. “It’s a tight fit for three, so he’ll stay in the back.”

“Hey, no fair!”

By the time the whole aquarium was toured, you and Arthur were laughing to yourselves while leaving through the exit.

But the joyful atmosphere was short-lived.

The Ferris wheel just outside was the next stop, and the Brit offered to splurge a little to have a carriage without strangers. That way, you could run around as much as you wanted, even if that meant leaving the two men to sit in their lonesome. While Ivan was sitting on the bench in the centre out of his own volition, the same couldn’t be said for him.

Sitting back to back to the other, he pressed his legs firmly together and leaned over in a hunch. Then, he dug his hands through his hair, all while keeping his round eyes fixated on the ground. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, and his head was spinning like a carousel. What was he thinking, taking you here? That was right. This was an iconic destination you couldn’t miss, that was why. He was initially planning on staying back there on the ground, but you were so excited, he couldn’t help but hop on with you.

Fuck. Maybe Ivan was right about him. But he wouldn’t let him know it. Speaking of the guy, he didn’t know if he was sitting there by choice, or just rubbing it in. While he was incapacitated by fear so he couldn’t even stand, he was sitting there because he wanted to.

“You should’ve stayed on the ground if this was going to happen.”

Arthur screwed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around his stomach. “... Shut up.”

“I was just saying.” Ivan murmured, looking at him over his shoulder. Poor guy. He really was down bad, wasn’t he? Down bad for you, that was. Too bad Arthur was hoping he wasn’t convinced--but it was too obvious. So all Ivan wanted was to prove his point, and later on, keep you away from him. But maybe he’d save it until after the ride was over. “... This ride is thirty minutes long. You’ll live.”

He heard the other groan. “Thirty minutes? How long has it been?”

“Mm... Ten.”

“Fuck me.”

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before you would pull away from the railing and return to the company of the two. Arthur had been praying that somehow, you’d leave him alone sitting there, pathetically, but he couldn’t expect something so cold from you. So while he hung his head, he wasn’t surprised to feel your hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” He heard you ask, but he never looked up.

“... Yeah. Just give me a minute.”

“I have. Ten, actually.” Taking a seat beside him, you leaned down to peer at his face, which was a few shades paler than normal. He didn’t even have the energy to respond, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. Concern immediately contorted at your features, especially when he looked so shaken. “Arthur, you look a little sick. What’s wrong? Can you talk?”

He shook his head slowly before managing a weak smile at you. “Sorry, love.” It didn’t even faze him he just called you that. He was far too uncomfortable to feel the embarrassment from a nickname he should’ve saved until a little later.

“I’m not... Too good with heights. Never have been... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His voice was slow and faint, and you were beginning to suspect he was having a panic attack. “... Sorry if I seem a little lame.”

“No, of course not.” You frowned. “Things like this happen. Just breathe with me, okay? You can do it. Just count to ten.”

Arthur took a deep inhale. “... Okay.”

Around ten minutes later of these exchanges, he calmed down some, especially when you kept on reminding him that the carriage was finally descending. Once the ride was over, you had to help him up and walk him out. Now that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, it didn’t take long for him to recover. Even then, you remained rather cautious and stuck with him on your journey to Soho. By the time everyone took their seats in Circolo Popolare, a beautiful Italian restaurant Arthur so kindly booked, you were still looking out for him.

Leaning over to rest your head on the table, you glanced up at his face with a soft smile. “... You okay now?”

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded. You didn’t need to be this observant with him considering he was well now, but he loved your attentiveness. It wasn’t something he was used to. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. Now quit worrying about me, alright?” Rubbing the nape of his neck at that, you couldn’t help lingering on his body language for a moment.

It didn’t matter what he dressed like, or what his personality was. He could be endearing when it came to it, and a total softie too. And the thought made you smile even wider. If he thought you were cute, then you thought he was adorable. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” You slowly turned to Ivan, the action making Arthur tense up a little.

Reaching out to your hand, he took it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

The feeling of his warm fingers around yours made your heart skip a beat. Did he just? Your thoughts manifested into your look of shock, and you darted your eyes over his neutral expression to try and decipher it. Before you could come up with anything, there was a phone in your face, followed by a flash.

“Wha--?”

He turned the screen to you to reveal a photo of you, and in your opinion, it was the least flattering picture anybody had ever taken of you. “I said I’d take an uglier photo of you, didn’t I?” Arthur grinned, the words acting like a cold splash of water to bring you back to reality.

“... You sneaky little shit.” You growled. “Delete that right now!”

“How about no?”

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Arthur.”

“I think you already have, love. You’re smiling right now.”

You stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, you reached out to snatch his phone right out of his hands. Tapping furiously on the screen to get rid of it, you heard his chair scrape back violently as he tried to retrieve it. “Why, you--”

But it was too late. Gone forever. Lost in the abyss of cyberspace. And so, he immediately channelled his frustration by jabbing his fingers into your sides. “If I can’t have that photo of you, at least let me do this!” You burst into a fit of laughter so loud, nearby patrons turned their heads. Only then did he pull away, leaving you to recover through breathless wheezing.

“Fuck you, Arthur.” You whispered, but it was on an affectionate note more than anything. As you glowered at him from your seat, you never noticed Ivan doing the same thing, but he was glaring at the Brit for an entirely different reason. Arthur had to be the most self-aware person out there, and to make a scene in a restaurant like this? He really fell for you, didn’t he?

When he realized Ivan’s scorching gaze burning into him, he froze.

Not just out of how intimidated he was, but the epiphany that he was right all along. Why else was he acting so out of character? The only explanation was this--in the short time of being with you, he may or may not have developed a little crush. But that was no problem, right?

All he needed to do was to ask you out.

But that would prove a task easier said than done, especially when Ivan decided to attach himself to you by the hip after that stunt. That cunning bastard knew what he was doing. After a little window shopping around Bond street and Mayfair, he stuck to you like a tattoo, and kept it up until night fell. While the group walked around Camden, Ivan kept you by his side with a firm grip on your hand.

When you asked why he was suddenly so clingy, he simply justified it with, “It’s dangerous for small people like you to wander around at night!”

But Arthur called bullshit. Especially when the other went ahead and smirked at him right after saying it. Maybe he liked you too, but was refusing to admit it. How hypocritical. If not, then he probably didn’t want you making friends when you were the only friend he had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to back down so easily. Camden may be the last destination for the night, and perhaps, the last time he’d see you again for God knows how long, but it was his trump card.

If this didn’t sweep you off your feet enough to get you to pull away from Ivan, nothing would.

As a town famous for its thriving nightlife and punk culture, it encompassed everything he was passionate about, and he’d give anything to show it to you. So he included a visit to the bar here on the agenda today, one that hosted live music. While you and Ivan got comfortable in your seats, Arthur never made a move to sit down.

It was already dim inside, so you never noticed him leave. The next time you saw him, it was a few minutes later when he was on stage with a few other musicians. Leaning forward with surprise, you watched him strap on a bright red electric guitar. Walking up to the microphone, he adjusted that. No way.

You were still trying to process him being a professional performer, but a lead singer as well?

The second he strummed the strings to start a guitar riff, he opened his mouth to start singing.

Play this while you read

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Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time

And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

His fingers never stopped moving as he belted out note after note. His voice was so different to how he talked, you had to do a double take. He sounded a little more rasp, a little more punk. To say you were impressed was an understatement.

Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance

And no one even knew it was really only you

While he jammed out on stage, he was electric. The energy in the bar exploded, and he had everyone singing along. You could almost see the confidence in him shoot up from the excitable crowd, because he was smirking.

Nice work, you did.

You’re gonna go far, kid!

Turning his head to you as he sung that line, you raised a hand to your mouth. Whether he did that on purpose or not was a mystery. But no words could describe how attractive it was. Hell, it even made you mind blank for a few moments. This was Arthur? He was like an entirely different person! Needless to say, you were completely star struck.

You couldn’t even make out what Ivan was telling you when the music was blaring in your ears. But you didn’t care. Arthur had you caught in a trance with his voice and guitar all until the end. When the song finally ended, the band bowed graciously and threw up hand signs as the audience erupted in applause and cheers.

When he stepped off the stage, you didn’t hesitate to run up to him. There, you practically pounced on him for a tight embrace. “Oh my god, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play so well! And sing, too! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You exasperated, pulling away to be met with his dazzling smile. It was the first time you’ve seen him so energetic, as if performing sparked a fire inside him that burned with youthful intensity.

“I was dying to show you all day. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I had to save the best til’ last, didn’t I?” He grinned, feeling his heart swell up with warmth as he watched you light up.

“Well, good on you! I loved it!” Squeezing him again, you felt his chest shake under his laughs. When you pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. But it felt so natural in the spur of the moment, even he didn’t seem to care.

“Thanks again for today, Arthur. I really appreciate you taking us out today. You completely blew me away.”

The way how you phrased it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. That was right. He still had to ask you out. And with Ivan watching on from afar, this was his chance. The thought reddened his cheeks, but while you had his face in your hands, he couldn’t feel more comfortable. “Is that so? If that’s the case, how about I take you out again?” His expression grew serious. “A proper date, I mean.”

It was your turn to blush, but you managed a quick answer.

“No need to look so serious, love. Of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

He chuckled and leaned in to peck your lips. “Stealing my vocabulary now, are we?”

“Stealing kisses now, are we?”

“Touché.”

Now a third wheel of the group, he breathed out a soft sigh and rested his cheek on his hand. “I guess my job here is done.” It didn’t really look like it, but he had been trying to play the wingman all along. Arthur was always one to go a little crazy when he wanted something, and only more so when he was desperate. So all he gave him was a little push in the right direction.

Maybe he would thank him later, but for now, he’d leave you two be.

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia #aph #aph england #england x reader #aph england x reader #arthur kirkland #request #oneshot #hetalia x reader #Axis Powers Hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア #alfredosauce50 #hetalia fanfic #ivan braginsky #aph russia #aph russia x reader #reader insert #x reader

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laurenwritesfics · 3 years

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Here it comes! Chapter three!

Read the previous chapter HERE. Read the full series on AO3.

Warning(s): alcohol consumption, use of coarse language, description of car accident

CHAPTER THREE: BEFORE THE STORM

The following morning, Frank woke early to check on Mary.

He could tell she’d been crying. Her cheeks were blotchy. One arm was draped over the side of the bed, seemingly still reaching for the book splayed out on the floor. He rested against the door frame, watching her for a moment. When something was wrong, she was a light sleeper. Desperate for a distraction. It would take her a long time to finally drift off. He didn’t want to walk any closer, fearing the noise might wake her. Then –

“I know you’re there.” Mary’s voice was muffled against her pillow.

“It’s too early. Go back to sleep.”

“Can’t.” Her fingers twitched. “I miss Fred.”

“I know. We’ll look again later, okay? Go to sleep.”

“No.”

Frank sighed and shut the bedroom door.

In the kitchen, Frank washed up last night’s leftover plates. Of course, Roberta hadn’t meant for this to happen. He knew that for certain. Wringing his hands on the dish towel, something occurred to him. What if it was Evelyn? He bristled at the thought.

He slung the dish towel over his shoulder and strode into the hallway to pick up the phone.

“Where’s Fred?” He asked tersely.

“It’s not like you to be awake so early. You’re usually passed out from a night at the bar after messing around with those silly boats.”

“Thanks for your concern, Evelyn.”

He could feel her eyes rolling through the receiver.

“To answer your question, I don’t have a clue where he is. Frankly I think it’s offensive that the first person you’d accuse is your own mother.”

Frank scoffed. “Really?”

“Don’t do this again, Francis.” Whenever Evelyn used his full name, he knew she was pissed. “You can’t blame me for everything.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Honestly, I think it will do her the world of good to spend some time away from that damn cat.”

Now Frank was pissed. “Yeah? Well that damn cat has been more like family to her than you’ve ever been. If you care so much about Mary then why don’t you visit? She needs her grandmother.”

“You know she doesn’t like me. It wouldn’t make any difference.”

“The only reason she doesn’t like you is because she doesn’t know you.”

“She lived with me for six months, Francis.” Evelyn didn’t want to admit that Frank had a point.

“Yeah, and she was gonna run away if the court hadn’t changed the guardianship order.” He shifted his weight and threw an arm out in frustration. “Y’know what, I’m not doing this.”

He didn’t bother to say goodbye.

In the few minutes it took to call Evelyn, Mary had stealthily made her way into the kitchen where she was now attempting to climb the counter to reach the cupboards. Frank rushed over and set her down on the tiles.

“Easy there, Spider-Girl. Go sit down, I’ll make you some eggs.”

Mary shuffled reluctantly over to the kitchen table, where she sat hunched over in deep thought. When Frank slid her plate onto the table, she stabbed half-heartedly at the eggs, taking tiny nibbles. The last time she had been like this was when Diane died. She was grieving again, and it tore Frank apart knowing he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Children react differently to loss – some dwell on it and discover the depth of their emotions, others brush over it and seem to just cope because they don’t fully understand the concept – Mary was the kind of girl who could easily get deeply invested in just about anything. The highs were astronomical. The lows were frightening for her. She was so open, so emotionally vulnerable, but when sadness hit her, she completely shut down. It was as if there were two different girls under the same roof.

Frank and Roberta were doing their best to instill a sense of hope, but Mary refused to engage. They didn’t understand, she thought. They couldn’t. As much as she trusted, believed and understood the adults in her life, sometimes they could be frustratingly rational. She knew that they had her best interests at heart, and knew there was every chance Fred would be out there somewhere, but just for once, she wished someone would cry with her. All the comfort in the world couldn’t erase the fact that her best friend was gone. A part of her was missing.

For the sake of maintaining the illusion of normalcy, she had agreed to go to school for at least one more day. If they couldn’t find Fred, then she was going to stay home. Frank didn’t want her to feel isolated. She didn’t need to be put under more stress.

As they drove to school, Mary remained mute. When he dropped her off at the gates, she finally spoke.

“You don’t have to pick me up. I’ll walk home.”

Frank opened his mouth to protest but knew it would be useless.

She slammed her door shut.

He watched her shoulders slump, her feet dragging as she made her way through the yard. It broke his heart.

On the way home, he circled the neighborhood multiple times, rolling down the window to call out for Fred. Still, nothing. He called Roberta. Nothing.

Heading out to the docks, he threw himself into work. He rattled drawers, pored over blueprints, made several phone calls. The afternoon wore on, dissolving into empty stillness. Frank climbed aboard the Celestia – a gleaming yacht that was the pride and joy of a wealthy dentist in Coral Gables – pushed his toolbox aside and broke into the storage drawer where he’d hidden an icebox. He grabbed a beer, popped the bottle cap in the sink and headed back up onto the deck. One day he’d have his own Celestia. Or at least be rich enough to consider it. When he started freelance maintenance work, he was driven purely by passion projects and impulsive agreements with bar patrons. Upon Mary’s arrival, he became a ‘yes man’. He took on anything he could to provide for her, even if it meant working until the early hours or missing Mary’s piano recitals. It didn’t matter how exhausted, frustrated or depressed he was, he struggled through for her.

His thoughts drifted to Diane. What she would be doing now. Mathematics was her life, but it wasn’t her passion. He remembered visiting her one Saturday afternoon, confronted with chaos. Diane flung the door open and greeted him, covered in paint. Mary ran towards him, pressing tiny red hand-prints onto his freshly-laundered shirt. He thought of her first gallery showing. The way she glowed with pride. Mary’s enthusiasm as she held Diane’s hand and introduced them both to as many people as she could. Even those she already knew. It is, of course, impossible to travel back in time and change the course of your personal history. But Frank couldn’t help wondering what might have happened if it was possible. He certainly wouldn’t be day drinking on a yacht feeling like a complete and utter failure. Would Diane think he was? Probably not. They stood by each other unfalteringly. When Mary was old enough to add her first scribbles to a birthday card, she signed it (or rather, Diane did - Mary drew a scraggly flower and a heart) ‘to the world’s best uncle’. Diane embraced him and told him yes, he really was.

He believed it then. Things were different now.

Bleary-eyed, Frank glanced at his watch. Shit. He needed to go home.

He fumbled for his keys and dropped down onto the dock. The sedan rattled to life. If Mary was ever locked out of the house, she would usually walk to Roberta’s for a spare key. If Roberta wasn’t home, she would wait by the front door, kicking up dirt. Now, though, all Frank could picture was Mary walking alone, too hell-bent on sleuthing to realize that she was lost. He swung out of the shipyard and drove down to Mary’s school. She wasn’t waiting in the parking lot. He headed to the reception desk. The secretary had seen her leave with the rest of her class. Frank said a quick ‘thank you’ and ran back to the car. A pang of tipsy dizziness hit him, so he sat in the car for a few minutes, pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked rapidly in a bid to straighten himself out.

He took the long way home. The streets were empty. He pulled into the driveway, got out and peered through the window. The TV was switched off. There were no books strewn across the floor or on the coffee table. He opened the door and called for her. No response. He checked her room. Empty. Frank was starting to panic.

Before he set off again, he cracked open another beer. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did it anyway. The stress – or rather, the self-inflicted guilt - was just too much to handle sober. Then, he called Roberta. “Roberta, it’s Frank. Have you seen Mary?”

“I’m sorry honey, I haven’t. She hasn’t come by.”

“Shit. Where the hell is she? This isn’t like her.”

“Maybe she’s hanging out with a friend? Study group?”

“She doesn’t have any friends.” It sounded harsh, but it was true. “If she’s gone out there on her own looking for Fred…if something’s happened to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Don’t talk like that, Frank. I’m sure she’s fine. She’ll come home.”

“I’m gonna go drive around the neighborhood. If she comes by the house, call me.”

“Of course I will.”

“Thanks, Roberta. I owe you one.”

Without missing a beat, Roberta replied. “No charge.”

It occurred to him then that there was one place he hadn’t looked – the beach.

Frank stumbled into the car and shakily turned the key.

Even through his beer-tinted haze, he couldn’t see her anywhere. Mary’s voice repeated in his head as he drove.

“Slow down! Mom said never go to bed or drive angry.”

He wasn’t angry. He was anxious.

Turning down the winding lane that would eventually lead him to the beach, Frank felt a surge of adrenaline rip through his entire body. He gradually picked up speed. She was there. She had to be.

He was so caught up in his own trail of thought that he didn’t realize the car had started to sway. It was getting later. Darker.

It was starting to rain. The road was getting slicker by the second.

The blinding beam of oncoming headlights caught him off-guard.

He swerved.

The crunch of metal against metal echoed down the quiet lane.

Now he was sober.

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#The Pieces We Leave Behind #Lauren Writes #laurenwritesfics #Gifted #Frank Adler #Mary Adler #Chris Evans #McKenna Grace #Chris Evans fanfiction #Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans smut #Chris Evans fluff #Frank Adler x reader #Frank Adler x Lucy Montgomery #Frank x Lucy #angst #angst fic #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x latina!reader

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gr0vndz3ro · 4 years

Text

Object of Desire

Demon!Bakugou x Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, public, barely plot??, swearing, dirty talk, degradation, choking, mentions/use of alcohol, semi public?, oral, unprotected sex

Word count: 2,459

A/N: im soRRY but ya girl is i n s p i r e d. I started writing this at 5 am and im convinced that is when I get my best writing done, and that's on a fucked up sleep schedule. If you want the same effect I had when I wrote this listen to Leviathan by G-Easy. Art is not mine, if you know the artist let me know pls.

It was late and you were way to drunk to be walking the streets by yourself. Your friends had begged you to come out with them to go partying, you knew you would come to regret it in the morning. You and your friends slammed drinks after drinks without a care in the world, it was Halloween night after all, what else were a bunch of single ladies suppose to do. So this is how you were now carrying a pair of heels by your side, in a dress that was just a little to short, and a headband with fuzzy black ears now digging into your head because you can’t go out without a costume according to your friends.

Your feet patter against the rough concrete, the only thing protecting you from the ground is the pantyhose you threw on earlier in some attempt to be modest. The street lights in your neighbor hood shine a dim yellow light across the street, the only other light coming from decorations from houses you pass. No body was out on the street except for the other occasional drunks, seeing as it was some ungodly hour in the morning.

You would have called a cab if you had any clue what had happened to your phone, you faintly remember your friend taking at the beginning of the night so you couldn’t ditch them. Smart, because you NEVER did stuff like this. You’re considered the “mom” friend of your group. At this point you just wanted to plop down in your bed and forget about tonight.

Suddenly you’re taken out of your thoughts by the sound of foot steps behind you. You end up ignoring it, assuming it’s just another person trying to get home after a long night of partying, like yourself. You keep your pace and decide to take a short cut wanting to get out of your ridiculous “costume”, dipping into an alley you were very familiar with, never realizing how poorly lit it was, seeing as you were never out this late.

Red eyes, unknown to you, watch your every move. A smirk growing on his face as he enters the alley.

Walking down the road, you suddenly start feeling like you’re being watched so you quickly turn around to calm your nerve. Not seeing anyone behind you, you continue on your walk. You make the turn around the corner and confusion takes over as you face to face with a wall. Did I take a wrong turn? I could have sworn this was the right street.. You shrug your shoulders turning around to exit the dead end when you feel your heart stop. The only light in the alley was the moons glow, but that was all you needed to see those vermilion eyes staring into you. You go to let out a scream but are stopped as a hand covers your mouth.

“Hey, hey, we wouldn’t anyone to hear you and think something is wrong...” The man infront of you pauses, breaking your eye contact to let his eyes roam over you. A smirk takes over his face and you can see sharp canines peek out from his lip. He tilts his head to the side and reaches to your head fixing your ears “...now would we kitten”.

Your eyes dart behind him to see if there was any way someone could see what was happening and come help, but you knew deep down, no one was going to make the same mistake you did and walk into an empty dead end. The man infront takes a step toward you slowly closing the gap.

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone huh? Don’t you know there are bad men out walking the street at this hour.” He voice sending chills down your spine as you do everything in you power to keep your eyes off of him. Looking all around you for something, anything to get you out of that alley. You let out a gasp as you feel a hand make its way into your hair, “I asked you a question, you going to answer me?” His eye brow quirked as he waits.

“I was heading home from a party my friends invited me to, we all ended up getting really drunk. I was going to call a cab but I think one of my friends took my phone and she went home with some guy, even though she told me the reason she was taking me out was to get laid.” The truth spilling from you mouth without missing a bet. You hadn’t meant to say a that to the stranger but between the alcohol and his enchanting gaze, you couldn’t stop yourself. Your mouth drops open as you slam a hand to your lips, mortified at what you had just said. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You meant it though. Here I thought you were a good girl but all you want is some dick, such a dirty little slut.” His head dipping into your neck, licking a wet strip from your collarbone to just under you ear, stopping to nibble on your ear lobe. “I can make you feel so good you just got to say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the mans lewd words. All you could think of was to push him off of you but the growing heat in-between your legs prevented you. You felt as his hands traveled you body lightly, sending all types of chills down your spine and into your core. Quickly, you grab his wrists when they dip under your dress to your outer thighs.

“Oh what do have here, are you going to stop me princess. Go ahead tell me to stop, I dare you to try.” You open your mouth but no words come out. You were frozen between the wall and his gaze. You couldn’t find the words to make him stop. But honestly you didn’t want to. The burning trails his fingertips left as they dug into the sensitive skin on your legs was enough to make shiver in anticipation. “That’s what I had thought, now your going to be a good little girl for me now aren’t you? Going to do everything I tell you too”.

“But I-I don’t even know your name” you let out as a feeble attempt to get him to stop.

“It’s Katsuki and you can bet it’ll be the only name you remember when I done with you.”

He shakes his hands from your grasp and moves them to inner thigh, nudging your legs apart. Your leg open without you even thinking and a warm jolt gets sent to your core as you feel him rip open your pantyhose. He moves his head from his assault on your neck down your torso until he is met with your lacey underwear now on view. A blush crosses you face as you watch him lick his lips when he sees how wet you are from how little he has done to you.

“You’re soaked and I haven’t even touched you yet. You really are just a dirty little slut aren’t you.” Now on his knees he brings your legs further apart as he brings his face to your heated core. Locking his eyes with yours, he runs a long strip with his tongue against your clothed core. A wine escapes your lips at the action causing your already damp underwear to now be soaked. His teeth catch hold at the top and rips the garment off of you, you gasp as the cold air hits your newly exposed area. His warm breath fans across you as he sticks out his tongue again. You soon realized the situation you were in and how dirty it made you feel.

“I..I never do stuff like this” trying desperately to clear your image. You look down at the blond between your legs and notice two horns that stick out of each side of his head. Your eyes travel down his body taking in his large build and to the large black and red wings that come out form his back. “W-wait are you supposed to be the devil or something?” His eyes light up underneath you and he smirks

“Oh you have no idea” A load moan rips from your mouth as he plunges his tongue past your lips deep into you. You squirm as you feel it travel up inside of you, what the fuck no normal tongue can do this, but you are taken out of your thoughts as it brushes against your soft spongey wall. Just as quickly as the overwhelming sensation had came it left, his tongue retreating out of you as you let out a whine at lose of contact. “Quiet now, you don't want anyone to hear how desperate you are now do you?”

You nodded your head and bit down on your lip as the familiar feeling sends warm surges to your core. His tongue was going to be the death of you. The things you’d sign away to feel like this forever. The way it moved inside of you like no other, pressing against all the right spots perfectly. With how hard you were biting down on your lip you were sure you would draw blood but it was to good for you to handle. If this is just his tongue imagine if...the dirty thought causes you to clench around him. His moan vibrates against your clit at the feeling making you roll back your eyes at the sensation. The warm knot growing bigger as you felt yourself coming closer by this stranger.

“I-I’m so close” You barely manage to get out, not able to think due to the pure pleasure seeping through you. He lets out a groan against you, giving you permission to come undone. And that final vibration was all you needed to release that building pressure in your core. You bit down most of your moan but a small whimper still manages to make its way out. You feel his tongue leave and lick up every drop that may have escaped.

“You taste so good angel, wouldn’t want any of this to go to waste.” He moves to your thigh leaving light kisses that soon turn into harsh attacks, his sharp teeth grazing your skin. Finally he manages to peel himself away and moves back up to your face, just inches away you can see his once bright red eyes darken with lust. “Now I am going to fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk the rest of the way home.” His hand finds its way around you neck lightly giving it a squeeze “But I bet a little slut like you would love that huh?”

You feel your airway constricting, not only from his hand but the words that he said, a throb surging through your already sensitive core. You hear him shuffle and then move his hand from your neck to the back of your thighs, giving them a squeeze making you jump. He lifts you up with that momentum and you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. A whimper leaves your lips as you feel his head slide against your folds, coating in your slick.

Suddenly he drops you onto him, as he plunges fully into you. You throw your head onto his shoulder, biting at the fabric of his shirt as he stretches you out. You weren’t expecting him to be that big, but he filled you up perfectly. You can feel his smirk against your skin as he lets you adjust to his size. The cold feeling of rough brick against your back as you try to get used to it.

��Pleease… move” you let out, barely louder than a whisper.

“Oh with pleasure” He moves out of you completely, with just his tip at your entrance before slamming back into you. A groan escapes his lips at how tight your walls hug him. “For such a slutty girl you’re so fucking tight kitten”

His movements speed up sending you into a state of euphoria. His dick hitting your g-spot with every rut. He dips his head into your neck, searching for your sensitive spot. As a moan rips from you mouth he knew he had found it, and starts his attacking, earning all kind of noises from you.

His speed was starting to pick up even faster and you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to with stand this. His dick moving in and out of you at an inhuman speed. Sensitive to every move he made, you could feel the way his thick veins rubbed against your walls causing your toes to curl as you felt a burning sensation start to build back up.

“I-I don’t think I c-can last much longer” was all you can say as he slams into you.

“Let everyone know who is making you feel this good, let them know who you belong to now.” He growls against your neck, teeth drawing blood due to his bit.

“You! God, you Katsuki. I’m all yours!” You scream out, pleasure starting to completely take over you, note even caring about your volume. A devilish smirk takes over his face.

“Then cum for me.” His says as he slams deep into you. His words making you come undone for the second time that night. This was so much more intense then the first one, your legs squeezing around him hard as you loose all control. His pace starts to falter as he watches you come apart in front of him causing him to reach his own high. He twitches within you, hot ropes filling you up as he moans at his release.

Your breathing rough as you try to regain your senses. He hold you in place against him and the wall as you catch you breath, as he does the same. Eventually he pulls out of you and lowers you to the ground, your knees wanting to instantly give out but they don’t. You eyes meet his as you realize what has just happened.

“Am I ever going to see you again?” You feel dumb even asking the question, until you hear him chuckle infront front of you.

“You’ll be seeing lots of me” His gaze drops down and you follow it to your wrist. Gasping as you seeing a binding mark on your wrist with a red glow to it. You quickly look and lock eyes with him, the same red glow meeting you. He lowers his head back to your ear once again as his next words send chills down your spine.

“You’re mine now.”

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years

Text

Dancing with Our Hands Tied (3)

Pairing: Pierre Luc Dubois x Reader

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Next week is a fuuuuun chapter. The drama really spices up, I promise. I’m very excited! :)))

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Again, just alcohol consumption

Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter

Sadie’s apology tour continued through the week after her visit. It started with her buying breakfast for you the morning after and it didn’t end until you practically begged her to stop saying sorry.

“Sadie, it’s over,” you grumbled into the phone that Thursday night. “Everyone has nights like that. I’m not mad at you.”

“Well, I’m just worried that you’ll never let me visit again!”

“Definitely not for a very long time.”

“You bitch!” she exclaimed, sending you into a fit of laughter that she joined in with just moments later. After the laughter settled, she sighed softly. “You did thank Pierre, right?”

Your silence answered the question for her.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered to herself. “I cannot believe you couldn’t put your stubbornness aside for one night!”

“It wasn’t me being stubborn,” you defended. “It was me being thrown off guard by a man who is otherwise an asshole to me and not knowing how to react to his kindness, fake or not.”

“I don’t think you know a thing about him.”

“And you do?”

“I know plenty,” she said. “More than you do, I can tell you that.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Try to get to know him yourself.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Fine, then I’m going to try to DM him on Instagram so I can send him a thank you,” she grumbled. You sat up straight on the couch, on high alert.

“You absolutely will not.”

“Then thank him for me,” she barked. “Like a normal person.”

---

Pierre was in a mood and he couldn’t pinpoint where it even started, though he had a feeling that his goal drought was only making it worse. They’d been away for a week and while he didn’t mind roadtrips most of the time, the hotel beds on this one were exceptionally uncomfortable and his missed shots were haunting him at night.

It gave Seth and Josh an excuse to drag him out the day after they returned home.“You need to get your mind off work,” they’d said. And though he protested, he still ended up with his feet sticking to the ground beneath him.

His mind was elsewhere, like it had been all week, and as it wandered, it ended up back to you.

Whenever he thought about the night of Sadie’s incident, he found himself getting more and more agitated by your attitude. It shouldn’t have surprised him, and yet…

“YN’ll be here soon.”

A groan ripped through his chest at Josh’s words. You were the last person he wanted to see after a shitty week on the road.

“You invited her?”

“You know what?” Josh asked. Pierre raised a brow at him. “I’m not even going to entertain this argument with you tonight. And that goes for her too. Tonight, we��re all friends.”

Seth laughed into his drink while Pierre fixed a glare on his teammate. Josh didn’t waiver for even a second.

“I’m getting a drink.”

The bar wasn’t as crowded as it usually was, but Pierre didn’t mind a bit. In fact, he liked it better this way considering the mood he was in. He didn’t feel like being bothered and he wasn’t in the mood to mingle. He wanted to drink away his stress in the booth in the corner with only Josh and Seth to entertain him. And, well, you.

The bartender recognized him as he approached and brought him his usual, though Pierre could tell he’d put a little more liquor in it than normal.

“Did you watch the games?” he asked, eyes narrowed at the man behind the counter.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Listen, man, you’re one of the best. Don’t stress.”

He left Pierre alone then, but the Universe had different plans.

“Duber, is that you?”

He knew that voice.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Standing in front of him was his date to last year’s Cannon Ball, Taylor. He thought he’d never see her again, not after the few hours they spent together, but here she was with a little more lip filler than she’d had then. She placed a manicured hand on his forearm with a smile and Pierre knew he wasn’t getting out of this any time soon.

---

“Are you still mad at me?”

Those were the first words out of Josh’s mouth when you showed up to the bar. He was seated beside Seth, who was sporting a shit eating grin because somehow he’d managed to avoid your wrath.

“No, but you’re lucky I had a week to cool off because if I’d seen you the day after, I would’ve killed you.”

“I told you Pierre’s not a bad guy,” Seth said, elbow nudging into your ribs as you sat on the other side of him. Your eyes cut to him, daring him to open his mouth again, but he kept it shut.

Josh watched you search the bar and realized, shockingly, that it was Pierre you were looking for.

“He’s over at the bar,” he spoke, lifting a finger to point him out. His back was turned, but over his shoulder you could see the blonde hair of whatever girl he was with. “I’m pretty sure he’s with that girl that used to stalk him last year. The one he brought to the team gala last year.”

His body language was all off, you could tell from the moment you laid your eyes on him. His shoulders were squared and he wasn’t even leaning into the girl in front of him, though she didn’t seem to mind a bit. Her fingers tracing up his biceps as she spoke to him. You finally got a look at her face and the memory of her hit you.

“Oh, shit,” you whispered, leaning over to talk to Josh. “I remember her.”

“Yeah, the one that got so drunk he had to carry her home and make sure she got into bed.”

You nodded as the night came back to you. Sure, she was super drunk, but that wasn’t what stuck with you. The thing that stuck out to you about that night was the way Pierre treated her.

Last season, your feud with Pierre was at its worst last season. Whenever he stepped into a room, you had to leave it. Even when Josh asked you to be his date for that event, you almost said no just because you knew it’d be nearly impossible to avoid Pierre. The boys broke you down though, as usual, and you accepted the invite after telling Josh he owed you one.

He so clearly invited her for the sex he’d get at the end of the night. They spent the entire pregame at Boone’s apartment with their hands all over each other and she even went as far as pinching his ass in front of the entire group on the way to the Ubers.

But, even if she was just a fling, he made sure to open all the doors for her and he held her purse when she had too many things in her hands, and even when she didn’t. He spent thirty minutes at the beginning of the night out on the terrace taking pictures for her Instagram. He even stopped drinking when he realized that she was taking advantage of the open bar because, as he told Seth, “I don’t want her getting too sick.”

And, while that night shocked you then, it didn’t any longer after seeing the way he handled Sadie.

“He just mouthed help,” Seth said with a snicker. You looked up and caught the last moment of a helpless look from Pierre. Josh chuckled on the other side of Seth, neither one of them in a rush to help their teammate out.

“Well, are you gonna help him?”

They answered with a harmonized, “Nope.”

You watched him a little bit longer as Seth and Josh carried on beside you. And then it dawned on you. This was your chance to make it up to him. You’d save him from a girl he wants nothing to do with to make up for helping your sister out. Finally, the issue could be put to rest. Hopefully.

“Do you guys want drinks?” The boys relayed their orders without a question and you slipped away to the bar, feet dragging in Pierre’s direction purposefully for the first time ever.

You stepped up to the bar just a few paces behind him and placed your drink order with the bartender. As you waited, you inched over to the 6’ 3” hockey player and ran your fingers up his back. Your touch had him standing at attention immediately. He turned his head, eyes widening as they met yours. You smiled sweetly as you curled your fingers around his bicep and said, “Hi, Luc.”

“Hey,” he said, swallowing thickly. He couldn’t possibly be hearing you right. Luc?

Your eyes cut to the girl in front of him as you tightened your grip on his arm.

“Do you mind?” you asked, though you clearly weren’t going to give her a chance to answer as you steered Pierre towards you and boxed her out of the conversation.

Goosebumps rose along his skin from your touch and he was praying that you wouldn’t notice, or that you’d at least ignore it if you did.

“Thanks.”

“Consider us even,” you spoke with a shrug. “That’s for keeping Sadie alive last weekend.”

“That was no problem,” he said. “You didn’t have to make it up to me.”

“No, I did,” you grunted. The bartender returned, placing your drinks down in front of you while you signed off on the receipt. “I didn’t say thank you, so consider this my thank you. Now we can drop it. Forever.”

---

It was 11:30 p.m. when you gathered your things and stood from the booth to wish everyone a good night. Pierre knew it was coming. You’d been looking at your phone for the past twenty minutes, the conversations around you background noise to the plans you were making. You said your goodbyes. A hug for Josh and Seth, a wave in Pierre’s direction, and then you were gone.

Pierre only stayed another thirty minutes. By the time midnight rolled around, he was drunk. His teammates clearly had a game plan because he wasn’t even thinking about his on-ice performance anymore. When he exited the bar, he found you still standing against the outside walls. Your jaw was set, arms crossed over your chest, clearly perturbed by the fact that you were still waiting for Charlie.

“What are you still doing out here?”

His eyes were glassy and he stumbled over the sidewalk as he sidled up beside you and leaned against the bricks.

“Charlie’s not here yet,” you answered. He noticed your frustration, arms crossed over your chest as you glared out at the street in front of you. He lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch.

“Wasn’t he supposed to be here thirty minutes ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you dating him? Or is it just a booty call type of situation?”

“Can you stop talking about him?”

He continued anyway, pushing himself off the wall to step in front of you, “Why do you go home to him all the time? I mean, it can’t possibly be the sex. Every guy in there, including me, has eyes for you. You could have whoever you want, I bet.”

“Close your eyes then,” you spat, stepping to the side so you could have a clear view of the street again. He rolled his eyes. Even his compliments were shoved to the side. There was no getting through to you. He leaned back up against the wall as you began speaking again. “And, just to be clear, we’re still not friends. You must be delusional to think that I want to talk to you about anything going on in my life, especially my sex life.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Good,” you quipped. “I don’t want to be your friend either.”

Your eyes lit up as Charlie’s car pulled up to the curb and you were practically jogging over to it before he even parked. You slipped into the passenger seat, pecking his lips quickly in an effort to get him to drive away before seeing his neighbor. You were unsuccessful.

“Is that Pierre?” Charlie asked, leaning across the center console to get a better look at his neighbor. He called his name from the open window and Pierre came walking over with a swagger in his step. He ducked down, elbows resting against the bottom of the window, and crowded your space purposely. “You heading home?”

“Yeah, trying to call an Uber.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just get in!”

Your head whipped around so fast that you were surprised you didn’t have whiplash after, but the frantic look that crossed your face wasn’t even registered by the man in the driver’s seat and within seconds, Pierre was sliding into the backseat.

You were silent for the rest of the ride home, listening to the boys talk about hockey. Just hockey. While you checked your make-up in the mirror, you wondered if he was annoyed by the hockey talk. Josh and Seth always hated it. Your eyes cut to him as the thought crossed your mind and you found him already looking at you.

You immediately closed the mirror.

The elevator ride up to their floor was painful. You were eager to slip past Charlie’s front door and get away from Pierre. They exchanged a little more small talk as they fumbled with their keys and the locks. Pierre opened his first and smiled wickedly at the two of you before slipping into his apartment.

“Have a good night, you two,” he said. “Keep it quiet, alright? I have an early morning.”

And then he was gone, disappearing behind his apartment door, before you could talk back.

#pierre luc dubois fic #pierre luc dubois story #pierre luc dubois imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl story #hockey rpf #columbus blue jackets fic #columbus blue jackets imagine #dancing with our hands tied fic #mk writes

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heavenlyhaechan · 4 years

Text

A Fateful Delay

Pairing: Jaehyun x Gn!Reader

Genre: friends to strangers to lovers au, fluff,

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: swearing, kissing, lots of dialogue

Rating: PG-13?

Note: Happy birthday nct aquarius boy 5/5! Forewarning I am an amateur tarot reader, so if it’s not entirely accurate *shrugs* Heavily inspired by Jaehyun’s I like me better cover video. (p.s. you’re a real one if you recognize the book quotes.)

Gate 26, gate 26, gate 26, you repeated in your head, not confident that your half awake mind wouldn’t forget. Heathrow airport was still quite empty at this hour, with only a few other stragglers hanging about. 6:00 am wasn’t exactly the most desirable time for a flight after all.

Here it is, you sighed in relief when you saw a crowd still waiting to board the early flight. You looked down to check that you had your boarding pass before looking up and suddenly being transported back to an older time.

“Jaehyun,” you said it without thinking, prompting him to look up from his phone and make eye contact with you. Recognition flashed across his face almost immediately, along with something else you couldn't quite place.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you reached him, setting your backpack down on the bench beside him.

“I’ve been studying here,” he said. “What about you?”

“Just traveling. I’ve been in Europe for,” you paused to count in your head. “A little over two months now.”

“Alone?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

He whistled. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s been an adventure, that’s for sure.”

You lapsed into silence, your mind still reeling with the fact that you had run into Jaehyun here of all places. And as coincidences like this didn’t happen very often, you quickly resigned yourself to the fact that you would probably never see him again.

Except…

“Flight 2491 from London Heathrow to Incheon International Airport has been delayed 18 hours,” a nasally voice announced over the speaker. Groans erupted all around you as they continued. “Boarding will commence at 12:00 am. If you have any questions or wish to board another flight please come to the front desk. Thank you and have a good day.”

Jaehyun sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

“Good thing I checked my bag,” he said as though he was trying to find a glimpse of good in the situation. You nodded emphatically.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“You know what I need now?”

“What?”

“Coffee.”

——

Once you’d left the airport the two of you entered the first cafe you could find. Unlike Heathrow, this was it’s busiest time of the day. You looked around as you waited, observing the artwork and the office workers that came and went without a second glace in your direction. They must be used to tourists.

“Does this place have a bookstore?” you asked as you peered past the espresso machines. You repeated your question to the barista when you reached the front of the line, and learned that yes, there was a bookstore just down the hall.

“Lets go,” you said once you’d ordered.

“Now?”

“When else?”

“You go,” he said. “I’ll wait for our coffee.”

——

The bookstore was even quieter than the airport, with not a soul to be seen but your own. You ran your finger along the bookcases as you explored, the rough texture and musty scent of the books making you feel at home. Jaehyun found you sitting on the carpeted floor in the aisle between two bookcases, a stack of hardcovers next to you.

“Watcha doing?” he asked as he handed you your coffee and sat down next to you.

“Let me read you some of my favorite lines,” you said in place of an answer.

“Didn’t we read that in high school?” Jaehyun asked as you picked The Sun Also Rises from the top of the pile.

“Yeah,” you said. “Junior year.”

Eventually you found the page you were looking for and read the line: “I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.”

“Damn,” he sighed.

You nodded. “That’s why I decided to come here. To Europe I mean.”

You picked up the next book.

“Okay here’s another one. ‘Brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you go on even though you’re scared.’”

“How are you finding these so fast?” Jaehyun asked, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled.

“I’ve probably read them too many times,” you laughed along with him, ripping your eyes away from the ever endearing marks.

A minute later: “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

“Ouch.”

You laughed again, and he forced himself to smile with you.

“Okay last one. ‘That’s what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway. Don’t you believe in true love?’”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Believe in true love.”

“Yeah, don’t you?”

He sipped his coffee as he considered the question.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I just don’t think I’ll ever find it.”

You were taken aback by that. Jung Jaehyun had always been one of the most desirable people you knew, and from what you could tell the last six years had done nothing but make him even more so. But maybe that wasn’t what mattered.

“Doesn’t it scare you?” Jaehyun interrupted your thoughts.

“What? Love?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean yeah I guess so, but isn’t true love worth the fear?”

Jaehyun smiled again at that, nodding quietly as his gaze moved to focus on the floor between you. You weren’t sure if the nod meant yes, but it brought an end to the conversation anyway.

——

As the morning turned into midday the two of you found yourselves in a quieter part of town. The sky had begun to darken as you walked and it casted a looming shadow over the street, filling you with a strange sense of foreboding.

Soon enough raindrops began to fall, creating dark spots on the concrete beneath your feet. You ducked into the first shop you could find for shelter, not paying any attention to the signs posted outside. Thus you were surprised to see the crystal balls, tarot decks, and palm reading books laid out on the tables inside.

Incense filled the air, and midnight blue and royal purple drapes were hung along the walls, highlighted by shimmering golds and silvers. A woman stood at the counter wearing colors to match. Other than her the store was empty, which didn’t surprise you considering the fact that it was late morning on a Monday in February. Not exactly the height of tourist season.

“Welcome,” the woman said, her voice soft and silvery. “Are you looking for something in particular today?”

“Uh, no,” you looked back at Jaehyun.

“We were just escaping the rain,” he finished for you.

“Well then, perhaps you’d be interested in a reading?”

You felt bad for seeking refuge from the rain but not buying anything, so you agreed. You followed her to the back of the shop with Jaehyun close on your heels. An embroidered curtain was pushed to the side to reveal a small table with a few chairs scattered around it.

“Please take a seat,” she said as she pulled a deck of tarot cards from a drawer in the table. You and Jaehyun sat next to each other on the side closest to the curtain, and she sat across from you.

“So, I want you to think of a question,” she said as she began to shuffle the cards. “It could be about anything really, but please make sure that it’s clear and specific.”

You played with your hands where they rested in your lap, feeling quite put on the spot.

“Take your time,” she smiled at you.

Your mind came up with and then discarded a million questions as the seconds ticked by, but eventually you settled on one.

“Our uh, flight was delayed this morning,” you explained. “Do you, or do the cards think that it was delayed for a reason?”

“Hmm,” she nodded in understanding. First she split the deck in three, then put it back together as a whole in no obvious order, before finally beginning to place the cards on the table.

“Let’s see,” she pondered, looking down at the cards she’d laid out. First she pointed to the world and high priestess cards, both reversed on the table before you.“It looks as though you lack closure, likely because of some feelings that you’ve repressed or kept hidden.” Next she pointed to the hermit and the ace of swords. “But you are searching for the truth, which will soon lead to a breakthrough that will provide you with clarity.”

Now she pointed to the page of wands. “You have been exploring recently, or maybe you still are.” Next to the knight of wands and the knight of cups. “You are fearless right now, and are ready to follow your heart. This will lead to new beginnings,” the fool, “dreams come true,” the ten of cups, “and a unique and deep partnership,” the lovers.

“Taking all of this into consideration, I’d say that yes, it did happen for a reason,” she finished. And although you weren’t one to believe in the superstitious, when she looked up at you with a twinkle in her eye you had a feeling she knew something that you didn’t.

——

Your stomach grumbled as you left the store, which made you realize that you hadn’t actually had a proper meal all day. You hadn’t had time on your way to the airport that morning, and coffee didn’t exactly count as food.

Like he could read your mind Jaehyun pointed out a fish and chips place nearby. It was lunchtime, so the place was bustling. Nevertheless you were quickly escorted to a booth made of dark wood with faux leather seats. It had been placed near a window looking out on the street you had just left behind.

Music played through speakers, battling the rowdy conversation of your fellow diners. Your still complaining stomach prompted you to order without much consideration, confident that you were hungry enough to enjoy whatever you were served.

“Do you believe everything she said back there?” Jaehyun asked as you waited for your food, his nail tracing a crack in the table.

“Yeah?” you phrased it as a question, watching as the group next to you was served. “I mean I wouldn’t usually, but a lot of what she said rang true.”

You lapsed into silence again, and you noticed a newfound awkwardness filling the space between you. An awkwardness that had nothing to do with the time that had passed since you’d last seen each other. You couldn’t stand the feeling, and so no matter how out of character it was for you, you felt that you needed to disrupt it somehow. So you said the thing that had been dancing around in the back of your mind since you’d first laid eyes on Jaehyun that morning.

“I liked you in high school you know.”

“Oh. You did.” He tilted his head, the look in his eyes hard to decipher. It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway.

“Yeah well I mean everyone probably liked you at some point, but,” you bit your tongue, already regretting your words.

“So you liked me because everyone else did?”

“No! I liked you a lot more than everyone else did.”

You only registered the teasing lilt in his voice after you’d finished blurting out the confession, and you felt your whole body go hot as the smile dropped from his face. The pause felt like it lasted for centuries because of your embarrassment.

“Why?” he asked eventually.

“Why what?”

“Did you like me.”

“Um,” you fiddled with your paper napkin to focus your thoughts. You second guessed yourself yet again. Were you really going to spill your guts to him now, here, after all this time?

Fuck it. When else?

“It always seemed to me like you didn’t care what anyone else thought of you, but not in a high and mighty way, you just minded your own business. Everyone either wanted to be you, or be with you in high school, but you didn’t let it affect you. It never got to your head, and you were always equally kind to everyone no matter what.”

Your eyes didn’t leave your hands the entire time you talked. Your fingers shredded your napkin methodically, too embarrassed to even imagine looking him in the eye ever again.

“Plus, you’re not bad to look at,” you said with your last ounce of confidence, before descending back into silence.

Luckily you didn’t need to say anything else, as just then your server arrived with your food. You dug in despite your now roiling nerves, still too scared to look up. If you had, you would have seen the fond look in Jaehyun’s eyes, and the way his dimples couldn’t seem to be tamed.

——

After lunch you walked across the Thames, but were eventually forced to make way for two small children zipping by on their scooters, their faces both full of pure and unadulterated joy. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them go by, remembering when things had been that simple for you too.

“Do you want kids?”

You don’t know why you’d asked. Maybe it was something about the way his eyes had sparkled when he’d moved for them to pass by, or the small smile that still graced his face almost a minute later.

“Me?” he laughed a little after he said it, knowing full well that he was the only person around for you to ask. “I…yeah.”

You nodded, not particularly inclined to say anything more, but he went on anyway.

“Sometimes I think about like, having a house with a big yard, and a dog, and some kids, and just all the people I love with me,” he trailed off. “I guess it sounds kinda cliche to say it out loud.”

“A little,” you chuckled lightheartedly even as your heart leaped in your chest. “But I know what you mean.”

——

Soon enough you stumbled upon a covered market set up along the river selling everything from clothes, to records, to furniture. You wandered into the clothes section while Jaehyun browsed the rows of records.

Eventually you found a mirror and started trying on the most ridiculous accessories you could find. Jaehyun found you adorned with a lime sunhat, sparkling ruby red glasses, and a fluffy green absinthe scarf.

“Why does that kind of work?” he chuckled as he looked you up and down.

“Complementary colors,” you said simply, trying to ignore the way his eyes surveyed your figure. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were serious. They took you in like you were a statue in a museum, something to treat delicately and with reverence.

“I had an idea,” he said as you began to shed your layers of color and ludicrous.

“What kind of idea?”

“I thought maybe we could pick something from all of this,” he waved his arms around, gesturing to the market around you, “and buy it for each other.”

“Like a secret santa?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Meet back here in say, twenty minutes?”

“Sure.”

You set off in opposite directions, not wanting to spy on each other’s search and spoil your own present. Twenty minutes later you met back up where you’d started, before quickly deciding that you needed to find somewhere to sit while you shared what you’d bought. You chose a loveseat in the middle of the furniture section, it’s surface made of navy blue linen.

“You first,” Jaehyun said once he’d made himself comfortable next to you.

“Okay but fair warning, this is kind of dumb,” you said before pulling a white mug from behind your back. On its surface was painted a singular peach hued letter J.

“I just had to,” you laughed, relief filling you at the look of amusement on his face as he took it in his hands. “You can use it when you get that house you were talking about.”

His smile softened at that, and he looked up at you with a genuine look of gratitude. “I love it. Seriously. Is it weird how much I love it?”

You laughed again, your cheeks aching with delight.

“Okay my turn,” Jaehyun turned serious again as he leaned down to carefully tuck the cup into his bag. When he straightened up he had a record in his hands. Taking it from him you saw that it was the self titled Hozier album from 2014.

“I remembered that it was your favorite album in high school so I uh, yeah,” he trailed of as you looked back up at him, your eyes as big and sparkling as the full moon.

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Yeah well, maybe I liked you a little bit in high school too.”

Your stomach dropped at his words and you forced yourself to swallow back your surprise.

“Really?” you managed to get out, desperately searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But when he nodded you found nothing but nerves at his years awaited confession.

——

Eventually the two of you found yourselves in a sprawling garden backed by a row of old Victorian houses. Wide walkways created borders between garden beds full of both familiar and unrecognizable plants, the air full of their sweet scent.

You split off to wander on your own for a while before meeting back up at a bench near the back of the garden. Jaehyun presented you with a one of spring’s first daffodils when you reached him, and you bit down on your bottom lip hard as he tucked it behind your ear.

“I bet a lot of people get married here,” he mused a while later, arms propped up on the back of the bench.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

The foolish part of you let your mind imagine yourself having a wedding here. As your eyes traced the slope of his nose you wondered who would be in attendance, what food would be served, what you would be wearing.

“Do you ever think about all the things that had to happen for us to run into each other this morning?” Jaehyun asked. “Like I never thought I’d ever see you again, and even if I did I thought it would be at a reunion or something.”

“And what if our flight hadn’t been delayed?” you considered. You knew what would’ve happened. You would have gotten on that plane without speaking another word to each other. Maybe a brief goodbye in Incheon, but that was certainly the very most. And then you would go your separate ways yet again, passing it off as an innocent coincidence.

“I’m glad it was,” he said as though, yet again, he could read your mind. Or maybe he was just thinking the same thing.

The sun was setting now and his face was lit up by its fiery glow. It turned his deep brown eyes gold and his cheeks rosy. His lips were parted the tiniest bit, like they were trying to grasp onto a word that he couldn’t quite remember.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked.

“Like you,” his jaw clenched as he paused, eyes flickering with uncertainty. “Like you could fall in love with me,” he finished finally.

“Maybe I already have.”

He ripped his eyes from the setting sun in favor of looking at you. The corners of his lips were down turned, and his eyes were set in shadow. You decided you liked them better this way, twin pools of warmth that you could fall into and stay in comfort forever.

“Would it be crazy if I kissed you right now?” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, your lungs not working quite the way they were supposed to. “But you should do it anyway.”

And so he leaned forward that left over inch, and your lips melded together like honey in the golden light of the sun as it sunk beneath the horizon.

——

As night fell upon the city you decided you needed something sweet to end your day. You ended up at a diner near the center of the city, with milkshakes and french fries set on the table between you. You dipped one into your shake and then huffed out a laugh as Jaehyun grimaced.

“It’s good!” you defended yourself. “At least try it before you judge me.”

“Fine.”

He reached forward and dipped a fry into his vanilla milkshake before popping it into his mouth. He considered carefully, eyes never once leaving yours.

“Okay I admit, it’s pretty good.”

You cried out victoriously before he’d even finished his sentence properly, pumping your fists in the air. It was Jaehyun’s turn to laugh now, the indent of his dimples enchanting you for the thousandth time that day.

“Do you think,” Jaehyun began, spinning the shiny silver spoon in his cup around in circles.

“Hm?”

“Are you…happy?”

You blinked. As an adult people would always ask you how your career was going, if you were married, or if you’d bought a house yet, as if life was some kind of grocery list where you had to check off each item in order for you to be complete. He was the first to ask if you were happy.

“I think so,” you leaned down and took another sip of your milkshake to give yourself a chance to think. “I’m not unhappy,” you decided after a moments thought.

“You know what makes me happy?” he asked next.

“What?”

“You.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. A thousand thoughts came to you, but none of them expressed quite what you were feeling. But maybe words weren’t what you needed right now.

You reached across the table, pushing your cups and fries out of the way until you could lean forward free of any obstructions. He met you halfway without you needing to do or say a thing.

This time he tasted sweet and salty, like adventure and familiarity all wrapped into one. Fireworks erupted behind your eyelids as you kissed, disrupting the calm darkness you usually found there. When you pulled away you became starkly aware of the countless eyes on you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The only eyes you cared about were the chocolate ones looking straight into yours.

As you sat back down you noticed the flower that had fallen from behind your ear and on to the table top. Jaehyun noticed it at the same time as you, and carefully he reached forward to pick it up and twirl it between his fingers absentmindedly.

“One of the classes I took while I was here,” he started. “It was just for fun, an extra credit course you know. And at some point we talked about the language of the flowers.”

You watched the flower spin, a yellow blur under the diner’s fluorescent lights. It was mesmerizing, or maybe you were just tired.

“Do you know what the daffodil’s meaning is?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Unequalled love.”

——

You reached gate 26 for the second time that day with nearly half an hour left until midnight. Some of your fellow voyagers sat around in groups, some by themselves. Some lay across the airport benches like cats trying to enjoy their midday nap. There were tired eyes everywhere you looked.

You, on the other hand, felt more awake than you had all day. None of it had felt real, passing more like a dream than real life. You had been tempted to pinch yourself several times that day, and now you finally decided to submit to the urge. You pushed back the sleeve covering your left arm and gave the skin underneath a quick pinch, if only to confirm that you were indeed corporeal.

You sucked in a short breath at the small tinge of pain, but then smiled at the ground at the confirmation that everything that had happened today was in fact real, and not just a figment of your overactive imagination. Jaehyun looked over at you with curious eyes at the small sound. You shook your head at the unspoken question, preferring to not indulge exactly how surreal all of this felt.

“What’s your seat number,” you asked instead.

“Uhhh,” Jaehyun rummaged around in his bag for a second before pulling out his boarding pass. “32F. How about you?”

“32G.”

You stared at each other for a second before Jaehyun burst out laughing.

“You’re telling me that our seats were next to each other this whole time?”

“I think so,” you looked down at your boarding pass once more before joining in on Jaehyun’s disbelieving laughter.

“Well would you look at that,” Jaehyun said, pulling your right hand into his lap and squeezing it gently. “I guess this really was fate.”

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soartfullydone · 3 years

Text

No. 4 - TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed You/Bastion requested by @zacksfairest

Thank you for giving me an excuse to write more Bastion things. I don’t know if this is good, but here I go, fellas!

“After all this time, don’t you trust me, darling?”

Melody should have smiled at Bastion Winalils and answered, “No.” Instead, she’d asked questions, allowing her damned curiosity to take her by the hand and pull her into one of the Jet’s schemes.

This one, she thought, is the one I’ll have to kill him for.

Large, rough hands gripped her arms on both sides. Her bare feet skidded uselessly across the uneven floors as she was half-carried, half-dragged to who-knows-where. A burlap bag covered her head, and they had taken so many turns to get here. At last, she heard a door open. One of the men removed the bag, and the other pushed her forcefully into the room before she could get her bearings. She tripped and fell onto her side.

Melody’s arms and legs weren’t bound, so she scrambled to her feet, wanting to curse at them so filthily their own mothers would shrivel up and die to avoid the words. A pitiful sniffling sound beat her to it. She wasn’t alone in the room.

Other women were crammed into the space with her, each of them youthful, some more than others. Most of them had pure white hair of varying lengths. Plats. Melody spotted a few Silvers and Golds, even a Jet, though the latter’s skin was darker than what was typical of her caste. No Coppers. And, of course, Melody was the only one here who could pass as a Bronze except, unlike the rest of the women here, she was no Ald.

Half the women watched her just as warily as she watched them. The rest were either staring unseeingly at the floor, sobbing into their hands, or trying to not exist.

The oldest profession, Melody grimly reflected. So far, it looks the same here as it does in Sharteshane.

Before any of them could console each other, forge alliances, or put her own survival first, a side door opened, and an olive-skinned man with black hair and blue eyes entered. His clothes were modest, pressed, and shiny in a way only expensive fabrics were. His mouth was shaped in a permanent frown, and he looked both disinterested and unimpressed with the collection of women—some of whom were barely dressed or were completely nude—in the room.

“Quit your sniveling,” he spoke in a reedy tenor. “Save it for the customers. Some of them like to feel useful. Or cruel.” He snapped his fingers. “Aye, we don’t have all day. Line up.”

The women did as they were told. With the room being small for ten women plus the Jet and his two thugs, two lines were formed. Melody’s body was shaking, but she clenched her jaw and fell in line with the others in the back. She would endure inspection with the rest of them.

The Jet wasn’t the one who was actively performing the inspections. Instead, he directed one of his thugs—also Jets—to manhandle the women for him with lazy commands or the careless wave of a paper fan. He’d be considered hopelessly effeminate in Sharteshane and would pay for it in her streets. Here, he was what Melody viewed as the Foreman, the man in charge, the word of god.

He was also the target.

“If the back tooth’s rotted, it hardly matters,” Foreman was saying, not even looking at the Plat woman he was disparaging. “She won’t be doing much smiling, I expect.”

The worst part of the inspection was the purity test. Melody hadn’t anticipated it, and it happened to the first woman before Melody realized what she was watching. Before she could look away. The Plat gasped as the thug reached under her dress, then flinched hard with a broken, pained whimper as he drove his fingers inside her.

Melody didn’t have to see it happen to know that’s what the Plat endured. Every whorehouse conducted their affairs differently, but there were commonalities. A quality of standards one had to follow if one wanted to stay competitive. And here was Alderode, competing with Sharteshane and competing well. Just because the Alds hid all the dirty business in back rooms didn’t make them any less filthy.

The Plat woman “passed.” In Melody’s mind, it meant she’d failed. It meant her virginity would be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Numbly, she could hear Foreman making those very arrangements as another thug led the woman from the room.

I did not sign up for this, Bastion!

Tough, she could almost hear him saying. They have to endure it. Why shouldn’t you?

She fought the urge to run as woman after woman was inspected and taken from the room, some for the bidding, others to start whoring immediately. Belatedly, it dawned on her that she would be the last.

Melody preoccupied herself with thinking how she could fight back. The walls of the room had plenty of Solidity, which, if taken, would likely result in the khert backfiring on her and killing her. If she wanted to Core Leech anything, it would be simpler to remove the Density from the Alds’ arm bones or something, but she didn’t want to resort to that. She had some pride as a wright, and besides, she didn’t know if she could manage all three men at once. Maybe… Maybe she could take the Edge aspect from Foreman’s belt knife and… Bah! It’d be easier to steal the damn thing. She’d get more uses out of it, too.

Pymary wasn’t the answer to everything.

The folded tip of Foreman’s fan swatted her under her chin. Her notable blue eyes found his bored ones, though a degree of intrigue slightly warmed them.

“Thought you were bringing me another semon girl,” Foreman remarked to his thugs. “This one’s missing quite a lot of shit on her.”

“We like variety where I’m from,” Melody replied in accented Tainish. “Though we have our share of seamen, to be sure.”

Foreman snatched back the fan, snapping it open with a flick of his wrist. “My, my, a Sharte! You’re an awfully long way from home.” His tone lifted slightly on the end: a question.

“Got a tip,” said a thug. “Found her near one of our storehouses.”

“And you thought to bring her here?” Foreman sighed. He waved his fan across his face so vigorously that Melody could feel the burst of cool air on her face along with the roasted meat he’d eaten for lunch. Abruptly, he stopped, coming to a decision. “Put her with the exotics then. It’s not like she’ll last any longer than the others.”

Before Foreman was even finished speaking, a thug forced open Melody’s mouth with a bruising grip on her jaw. Other hands roamed her body, and her pulse spiked. She felt murderous, and she tried to fight the feeling down, but then one of the men started hiking up her dress—

“Ach, no need for that!” Foreman snapped, turning back halfway from his withdrawal of the room. “The last thing we need is to advertise we’re putting an illegal’s cunny on the market. Besides, you know Sharteshane. Her own father’s likely had her first. Now, let’s go.”

The moment the thugs reluctantly took their hands off her, Melody lunged forward.

“Please!” she cried as she fell against Foreman, her hands lost in the front of his robes until she found his inner lapels to cling to. Almost kneeling, she peered up at him, tears running unhindered down her cheeks. She barely recognized herself as she fell into more desperate supplications. “Please, don’t do this! I’m not supposed to be here. Let me g—”

Foreman backhanded her. The force of the blow ripped her hands free from him, and she dropped to her knees, catching herself on her palms. Quickly, she balled her hands into fists, clenching one around the small cylinder she now held in her right hand.

“Whores!” Foreman declared, slapping his closed fan against his palm. “They’re the same everywhere.” He sneered and for once spoke directly to her. “You won’t say one word to the customers. You’ll be silent and demure, like a proper Aldish woman. If I hear even a hint of speculation from anyone that you’re from Sharteshane, I’ll cut out your tongue and hand you over to the authorities. Understand, lass?”

Melody didn’t respond. She wasn’t expected to. She was only to obey.

Foreman had already moved on. “Get her in someone’s bed now before she bruises. When it shows, we can charge him extra for it.”

Without another word, the thugs grabbed her by the arms and hauled her away.

Maybe it was the same throughout Alderode, or maybe it was this brothel in particular, but there were no pimps forcing their whores to roam the streets, finding customers and servicing them where they could. Instead, they were positioned in various rooms, often grouped by caste or—in Melody’s case—exotics when they possessed traits that were rarer or “off” within their respective caste. There was a Gold who had fair, blond hair but golden eyes rather than the typical green. Another, that earlier Jet she’d spotted with the warm, brown skin. As for Melody, she didn’t have the brown eyes and light-brown skin a Bronze was expected to have. She fit right in.

All the customers, however, were Jet men, and they roamed from room to room, glasses of wine in hand, searching for the choicest ware to take to bed in a room upstairs.

Every time she felt someone’s eyes on her, lingering too long, her skin crawled. She fought to control her breathing as she tried to figure a way out, but she was unarmed, and there were so many people. Even being a wright didn’t give her much of an advantage. Unlike Sharteshane, Alderode was full of them. Being a woman with experience in spellery wouldn’t surprise them for long; in fact, it may inspire many of them to kill her faster, lest any of the other women decide to get ideas.

It was Foreman who wound up approaching her. The cylinder burned in her hand, but he didn’t demand it back. Merely said, “Come with me,” from behind his fan. She couldn’t get a read on him at all.

She followed him upstairs, her stomach dropping as he took her to a room. The door swung open, and she saw that it wasn’t the grandest in the place by any means, but the furnishings looked cleaned and dusted.

However, the bed was disturbed, as it was also occupied. A Plat woman was there, her dress falling off her arms as her mouth was ravished by a Jet man with chin-length black hair. He was bare-chested with his black pants unfastened. Foreman clicked his tongue, and Bastion Winalils opened his dark eyes. They fell on Melody standing in the doorway, and she could swear his smile was aimed at her even though the Plat was keeping his mouth well-occupied.

“This will be going on your tab, I trust you know,” Foreman pronounced and pushed Melody forward. “Here’s the one you requested. The Plat can stay if you prefer.”

“Ah!” Bastion replied once he came up for air. “If I only had the coin. You can go, darling,” he directed to the Plat woman fondly.

“You know where to find me,” she flirted back.

Melody, disgusted, shifted aside when the Plat woman left the room. Bastion half-followed her out, his languid gait taking him as far as the new prostitute he was paying for, Melody herself. Shadows still clung beneath his eyes, which inspected her with polite interest. Her dress was scandalously short—for Alderode, at least—showing off her legs. Even though they were acting like they were strangers, heat entered his eyes, and Melody reminded herself that this, too, was an act for their audience of one. She ignored the urge to pull down the dress’s hem.

“And does she meet with your approval, my lord?” asked Foreman. “You don’t usually favor semon women.”

“You won’t mind, then, if I double-check.”

It was all the warning Melody had. Bastion took her face in both his hands and brought her mouth to his.

She went completely rigid, the edges of the cylinder biting into her right hand as she clenched both fists. But their audience was still here. Bastion’s lips moved against hers, and she opened her mouth, starting to kiss him back. That simple movement seemed to change everything. Bastion moaned, and his kiss turned rough, consuming. Dimly, Melody heard Foreman mutter something and close the door, leaving them alone, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Bastion’s tongue stroked hers, and she was caught up in the taste of him. The sweet smoke from his pipe. The bitter drink he consumed. The notes were there but faint, saturated by something sharp like mint.

Or maybe like blood. In a rush, Melody came back to herself and bit him.

“Ach!” Bastion drew back, a hand covering his mouth. “How easily I forget. My favorite Sharte is an Epheby, waiting to strike.”

“You’re a bastard!” This time, she did strike. Her knuckles clocked him under his chin, him moving to avoid taking a full punch to the face like she planned. He seized her wrist in a vise-like grip and brought two fingers to the side of her neck. It was enough to make her stop in her tracks.

“Calm down,” Bastion warned. The faint red light of spellery glowing from his fingers reached his eyes, granting them a deadly coldness. “Or I’ll sever your artery and leave here without you.”

“If you were going to do that, doctor, you would have done it. Don’t act like you’re here just for me.”

“That’s exactly why I bothered coming to this shithole, you ungrateful wretch.”

Melody huffed a breath of disbelief and tore herself away from him. Suddenly fatigued, she scrubbed her face and shoved past him toward the bed.

“I warned you this would be dangerous. You were all assurances, as I recall.” He was quiet while Melody stripped the bed of its sheets. “What hap—”

“Like you care. Here.” She threw the cylinder at him, which he managed to snatch out of the air. “This is what you really wanted, right? So take it, and leave me alone.”

Melody occupied herself with her newest project while Bastion examined the cylinder. Alderode was freezing outside. She would need coverings when she escaped. She began measuring the sheets with her hands, tearing them as she went.

Bastion came near her, sitting on the bed to watch her work. “I’ll owe you a hell of a favor for this. I’ve been after his seal for years.”

It was like a peace offering or the closest she might ever hear to an apology coming from him. Melody almost asked why he wanted some brothel-keeper’s seal, but she was done with being curious today. “You could have gotten it yourself. It wasn’t hard. It didn’t demand”—she gestured down at herself—”this.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried, but that man won’t let anyone get too close to him. He possesses a touch aversion, you see.”

“I noticed.” Her face still stung from where Foreman had hit her. She felt Bastion’s gaze find that very spot before sliding away. Melody tore at the sheet just to destroy something.

The silence between them grew awkward. After all, they were in a room inside a whorehouse, the sounds of fucking drifting to them through the walls. It would’ve been funny if Melody didn’t feel so fragile. If she couldn’t still feel and taste Bastion whenever she licked her lips, finding she wasn’t as turned off from it as she thought she would be. Not even after he threatened her.

“Won’t it be suspicious, you being here when he finds it missing?” she started, mentally kicking herself for being the first to speak, but her thoughts were becoming too dangerous with which to keep company.

“Not to worry.” He tossed the seal up in the air and caught it. “Shithole comment aside, this is only my fourth favorite brothel.”

She didn’t laugh. “Right, and you usually just bring your favorites home with you.” Melody glared side-long at him. “I should’ve timed it better. Made you squirm by having to explain to all the vibrant prostitutes that you can’t get it up without a six-titted bird’s permission.”

“Aye, well, you almost had your wish.” Bastion shot a vexed scowl southward. “The Lady is being particularly stingy tonight.”

“Why did you even come, then?”

“Like I said, I could hardly leave it all up to you, darling. I’m painfully aware you have no idea how to whore.”

It always came back to this with the two of them. No matter how much Melody got on Bastion’s nerves or how much he made her want to wring his neck, they always ended back at somewhere level. Easily teasing or mouthing off at the other. Tonight, it was particularly unsettling, and she didn’t know where to place the blame.

Off balance, Melody blurted out, “So are those real pants or a glamour?”

He smiled a beguiling smile. “Would you like to find out?”

“Why bother,” she taunted, “if you can’t do anything about it?”

“Aye, but that’s the perplexing thing.” Bastion stood and leaned over her with predatory keenness. “I felt something when I kissed you. A stirring. It’s happened before, when I’ve looked at you,” he admitted easily, as if it meant and cost him nothing. “But tittybird seems to have no objections if it’s you stoking my desire tonight, and you liked it, didn’t you, my lips on yours.” He placed the tip of his finger on the sheet stretched between her hands. “Don’t I tempt you, even a little? Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be wanted?”

“I want…” began Melody, her gaze caught on his smiling mouth so close to hers.

When she processed his final words, it felt like being buried under six feet of Aldish snow. Tonight, she had felt what it was like for men to want her. For them to put her hands on her without her being able to do anything about it. For them to assess her like she was no better than a Plod used for cheap labor or a saddlehound to keep as a favored pet. She’d had enough.

Firmly, she said, “I want to leave. I want to—” She almost said, go home, but Sharteshane was miles and miles away, and the thought of it didn’t stir up much warmth. In truth, she didn’t have a home.

The smile slid from Bastion’s face. He withdrew, giving her blessed space. Shadows wreathed around him until, suddenly, he appeared to be wearing a red, fur-lined winter cloak.

“Let’s go then,” he said briskly. “We’ll walk a few streets, you playing the part of a proper escort. After that, you’re on your own getting back to the safehouse. I have somewhere to be.”

She expected as much, so why was part of her so disappointed? “Right,” she agreed, lifting the torn sheet so she could wrap it around her. Bastion stopped her with a hand over hers.

“I’ve a better idea,” he offered. “Let’s steal you a cloak and some boots on the way out.”

“And some pants?” she said hopefully.

“Madam Sharte,” Bastion replied, waving a hand to the brothel at large. “Take your pick.”

#whumptober2021 #unsounded #bastion winalils #otp: a little death #sorry i'm not sorry for self-shipping nonsense #tonight i decided i was done with worrying about doing pymary correctly; it's whatever i want it to be now FOR FUN #that opinion will likely change come morning but oh well~ we're having fun #not much is even here anyway lol #[jerry seinfeld voice] is this anything?

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

The Chief | Night Terrors (1)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: The prestigious department of police and investigations in Seoul, Korea, is called to the small town of Cape Springs in rural California. Nothing is quite what it seems here.

Warnings: Blood, violence, you know crime stuff? Fluffy stuff somehow

Genre: Mystery, Crime, Angst, a lil humor, sexual innuendos, BUT I DON’T WRITE SMUT OKAY

Word Count: 7.2k Words (Holy guacamole. This took forever to write.)

A/N: Let me know your thoughts! Any suspects? Just message me if you want to be tagged! I’m sorry there’s literally no Reader in here, but she’s coming in next chapter, I swear. No, you did not stumble upon an x OC fic, and no I did not tag this wrong, just bear with me XD. Please please read this one, it sets up some good background.

Thank you so much to @seokjinsultimatesimp / @kingbewwy for helping with my story planning and ideas!!

Beautiful header by the wonder @dee-ehn / @dnrequests

Other:

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The flight was long. Long, tiring, and utterly boring. Jungkook knew he should have packed something to do on the plane. He had been dependent on the movies in first class and reclining chairs to pass the time. Well, now he was halfway through his fourth movie and sleep was nowhere in sight. Yoongi was quiet across the aisle from him and Taehyung was watching a movie next to him with some snacks he raided from the service cart. Not wanting to bother either of them for entertainment, especially Yoongi, he decided to sit in silence. The movie was getting boring so he turned it off and prayed sleep would arrive.

It did not.

He arrived, jet lagged and lacking 13 hours of sleep.

“Did you sleep?” Taehyung tilted his head as they stood to collect their belongings from the baggage claim. The boy just tiredly shook his head.

“Hah, guess we’ll have to be getting you coffee!” Seokjin chuckled, having slept most of the flight in peace. Yoongi, despite sleeping for the entire 13 hours, still looked exhausted. The others just seemed focused on getting their luggage and leaving. They had a lot of suitcases to store their equipment. Jungkook rolled his eyes at his older counterpart.

“I’m fine.” But as he said it, a huge yawn ripped from his chest. Jin grinned, but didn’t mention it as Jungkook’s ears started turning red with embarrassment.

“Guys, we have to get going.” Namjoon announced.

“Aye aye, chief.” Jimin saluted cheekily. Namjoon just pressed his lips into a thin line, not amused. The younger male just sighed and nudged the police chief. “You really need to loosen up.”

“And you need to remember that we’re here to solve a murder.”

“Even better! It’s several murders!” Taehyung chirped, earning a glare from his superior, Yoongi.

“Aish, you kids.” Hoseok scratched his head. “You shouldn’t be excited that a bunch of people are dead.” He muttered.

“Sorry, hyung, we just rarely get cases that Joonie agrees to investigate. How else am I supposed to keep up with Yoongi if I never get any experience?” Taehyung glared right back at Yoongi. The older man muttered something under his breath and dragged the younger away by his collar.

“Where are they going?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. He was still trying to get used to the group dynamics and while he wasn’t entirely innocent, he tried to fill up that role in the meantime. The other members looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Kookie.” Jimin winked. “He’s probably...teaching Taehyung his place.”

“Oh…” Jungkook tilted his head, trying to make the connections. “So like yelling? Hyung could’ve just done it here. I mean, he does that all the time!”

Jimin exchanged a look with Jin. Jin shook his head, Jimin smiled.

“Kookie, no, Yoongi’s going to-”

“Oh my god, he’s too innocent.” Jin cried, rushing to cover the maknae’s ears.

“Too innocent for what?” A lazy drawl came across the group, making Jin and Jimin jump. Namjoon chuckled and Hoseok pretended to be distracted on his phone, only stealing a quick glance up.

Yoongi’s hair was messy, as if hands ran through them several times. His lips were swollen and he had a large dark spot on his neck, which he quickly covered with his shirt collar when he saw them staring. Taehyung trailed behind him, dazed. He looked relatively the same. Jungkook jumped into action, shoving Jin away.

“Oi! Yoongi-hyung, I know you wanted to teach Tae a lesson, but isn’t that too rough?!” He shouted pointing at the other’s ‘bruise’. Hoseok began giggling and Yoongi turned impossibly red.

“Oh yeah, he taught me a lesson for sure.” Taehyung chuckled. Jungkook gaped, eyes flicking between the two.

“But he didn’t need to beat you up! Why are your lips swollen and there’s obviously a bruise on your neck!”

Yoongi began laughing softly and Taehyung’s ears went red. Namjoon sighed and dragged Jin over to help load the car. Hoseok was quick to follow, leaving Jimin to watch the scene unfold.

“We didn’t beat each other up.” Yoongi explained with a grin.

“So someone else did?!” Jungkook’s nostrils flared with anger. “Where?!”

“Slow down, coffee boy.” Taehyung said, amused by his younger friend. “You wouldn’t be able to fight anyone off.”

“Okay fine, but I could hold my own!”

The two began to open their mouths to respond when Namjoon shouted at the remaining four.

“Get over here! We’ve got a long ride.”

Jungkook rubbed his temples, scrunching his eyebrows up in distress. “Fine, I’ll drop it, but you better tell me soon.” He said in a huff and stomped off to the van, leaving Jimin, Yoongi, and Taehyung to burst out laughing while the youngest pretended not to hear them.

The town of Cape Springs was old. Old as in ‘stuck in a total time warp’ old. It looked like nothing had been updated since 1950. The van felt out of place, despite the various modern vehicles littering the road. Main street was all one story, one street. The boys looked peered curiously out the windows. The town could be considered charming if it weren’t for the murders happening every Saturday.

A stomach growled from somewhere in the van and it set everyone else off.

“You know, I’m kinda hungry, Joonie.” Taehyung said. “I missed breakfast on the plane.” He complained.

“Yeah, me too.” Yoongi agreed reluctantly.

“You slept the entire time, you lazy ass. What are you even using all that energy for?” Hoseok snorted.

“Thinking, you dumbass.” Yoongi retorted. “Unlike what you do all day, I actually use my brain.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Head Investigator.” Hoseok said, clearly annoyed by his comments.

“Yoongi and Taehyung aren’t the only ones.” Namjoon finally gave in, tired of listening to them bicker. It often felt like babysitting children and not a team of well trained detectives, investigators, and policemen.

Then there was the actual child of the group, 24 year old Jungkook. He was far too innocent for someone of that age, to his hyungs, having grown up around the protective nature of the other boys. Jin pulled into an open spot and parked the car. Taehyung and Jimin threw open the door, rushing to get outside and tumbling out in a heap. The other men chuckled at their antics.

“You clumsy idiots!” Yoongi reprimanded, climbing out and helping them up nonetheless. Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Jimin just pouted. The townspeople passing by were quiet, eyes trying not to stare at the obvious newcomers.

“Let’s go to this diner.” Namjoon said, pointing to a faded sign that read Betty’s Diner. Jin’s eyes surveyed the street. Despite their being people with modern clothing and devices, it still felt like they were transported back to the 1950s.

“It’s not like there’s much of an option.” Jungkook pointed out, gesturing around the small mainstreet. It was either Betty’s Diner or Isabella’s Ice Cream Parlour and there was only one that held savory food. Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok fought to get through the doorway at the same time, earning an annoyed look from the locals inside.

“Great, we’re making such a nice first impression.” Yoongi mused, gazing at the four men arguing at the door. Namjoon tried to soothe the wrinkles between his brow as he nodded along.

“You guys are going to give me wrinkles before I’m 40.” The police chief sighed.

When they could finally sit, they were put at a table in the back. The diner had to move several tables and chairs together in order to accommodate. As they ordered, they didn’t even notice the dirty looks they were getting. Seven new, rowdy, men have arrived in town. That could only mean trouble.

“I do not snore.” Namjoon said, offended.

“You do too!” Jin fired back. “I sat next to you for 13 hours and god knows how many nights I’ve spent in your-”

“That’s enough!” He cried, exasperated. The poor man was always under scrutiny from his partners. He loved them all dearly, but dear god it could be a lot to handle. Jin frowned and huffed, looking away.

“One order of french toast and orange juice.” A waiter interrupted, tone harsh. The group turned to him, surprised. The name tag read ‘Hak-kun’.

“Here.” Taehyung raised his hand awkwardly after a brief silence. The waiter let out an annoyed sigh and practically threw the plate down with the glass.

Taehyung cautiously pulled the plate toward him and the other men eyed Hak-kun. The waiter stormed away without another word. The cook was watching him, everyone in the diner was watching him. There was muffled shouting and next thing they see is Hak-kun is when he’s leaving, throwing his uniform apron onto the ground in frustration. The locals stared before going into a muttering frenzy. Anger issues….always fired...psycho...etc etc.

“Should I have gotten pancakes instead?” Taehyung asked after a tense silence. Yoongi narrowed his eyes.

“Obviously. Who eats french toast for lunch?” He scoffed.

“Pancakes aren’t exactly a lunch food either.” Jin piped up.

“But at least they fit into a category.” Yoongi started, ready to rant. “They know their place. They’re a breakfast food! French toast is like in mealtime limbo. Nobody ever wants french toast just for breakfast; they can also have it for lunch and dinner!”

Jimin was in a fit of laughter at the usually subdued man’s outburst.

“Think they poisoned it?” Jungkook playfully nudged Taehyung who grumbled something under his breath. It sounded an awful lot like ‘They might’ve’. Lunch continued as normal. Yoongi sat in silence for the rest of the time while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin made the group laugh with their antics.

The police station was dusty. Old and dusty, looking like a ghost town. Namjoon peered inside, glancing around to see a bored desk attendant. He waved, but the attendant even spare him a glance. Jin cleared his throat. The attendant jumped, looking up with dazed eyes.

“Oh, hello? Has there been an emergency?” He asked with a questioning gaze. The seven men shifted awkwardly.

“Uh, hello, we’re from the Bangtan police department. Were you not expecting us? We can come back at another time-” Namjoon began and the man quickly stood.

“No! Not at all! Sorry, it’s been slow recently.”

The men exchanged glances.

“But...there have been a lot of murders recently, have there not?” Yoongi tilted his head. The man was sweating and they couldn’t tell if it was because it was hot or because he was guilty of something. Of course, Yoongi and Taehyung tended to intimidate people, it was part of their job, so that could also be the issue.

“Yes! That’s why you’re here. Uh, I’ll grab the chief.” The man quickly left, rushing into the back. He opened a door into the backroom and loud talking could be heard before it was muffled once more by the door.

Namjoon looked lazily down at his watch, Jungkook tapped his foot nervously, Yoongi was whispering with Taehyung, Jimin was giggling about something with Hoseok, and Jin kept his eyes trained on the door.

A pudgy man walked through the door, a faded blue officer uniform on. He took in the men standing in his station, then looked uneasily back at the attendant. They exchanged looks and then the attendant scurried back to the desk, shrinking in his seat. The chief smiled at the men.

“Hello boys!” He said cheerfully. “Welcome, welcome! When did you get in?” He ushered them into the back where there were empty desks lined up next to each other. Dust hung in the air, only seen in the thin streams of light coming through the slats in the windows.

“We arrived a few hours ago, we ate at Betty’s Diner.” Namjoon said. The others nodded along with the statement. The police chief’s eyes sparkled.

“Ah, great food yeah?”

“Definitely!” Taehyung piped up, only to be nudged hard by Yoongi. Despite being part of Yoongi’s investigative team, he had trouble reading the room. The chief seemed cheerful but there was an odd cloud of tension.

“What’s your name, sir?” Namjoon cut in.

“Oh right, you can call me Officer Nam.” He held out his hand and Jin reached forward, shaking it.

“Officer Kim Seokjin, but I go by Jin.” Jin introduced himself.

“You can call me Namjoon.” The younger man smiled, taking Officer Nam’s hand after Jin and gave him a firm shake. Before the office could respond, the other men were taking his hand, shaking it and introducing themselves.

“Officer Min, head of investigations.”

“Oh don’t mind the grump, I’m Officer Kim, but just call me Taehyung. This dumbo is Yoongi.” The energetic man shook Officer Nam’s hand several times excitedly.

“Hoseok.” The other officer was formally trained. He gave Nam a firm handshake, his grip like iron.

“I’m Jimin, pleasure to meet you sir.” The smaller man smiled widely. Officer Nam returned the smile warily. “That’s Jungkook.” He nodded towards the younger boy who had fallen silent. “He’s training with us, he’s mostly here to observe the process.”

“Sorry, we can be a bit much in the beginning.” Jin said. It didn’t take a detective to see that Officer Nam was overwhelmed.

“Oh it’s quite alright. There hasn’t been much we’ve been able to figure out much information with these murders. People are on edge, ya know? They clam up, won’t talk much.” Officer Nam explained. “We often leave it to our intern to handle public affairs, she’s more versed in...talkin’ to people.”

“Intern?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, speaking for the first time. The officer seemed surprised to see him standing there, but nodded nonetheless.

“She’s studyin’ to be an interrogation officer and needs some experience with a more experienced crew than us. The town is usually quiet.”

“I see.” Namjoon murmured.

“She won’t get in yer way!” Nam exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s just a little shy.”

“Where is she?” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, she should be clocking in right about...now.” The office glanced at his watch. As if on cue, the door squeaked open.

“Officer Nam? I’m here!” A soft voice called into the station. The men whirled around to see a small girl. She looked almost fragile with dark hair and a lithe frame. She looked startled to see the seven brooding men. “Sorry!” She squeaked, ready to flee the room.

“Actually!” Officer Nam interrupted, halting her in her tracks. “Come here, I want to introduce you to Bangtan Police.”

She tentatively walked in. She looked like prey walking into a lion’s den; and she could’ve been with the way they were looking at her.

“Yes?” She shakily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“This is Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook. They’re from The Bangtan Police Department and I’d like you to spend the remaining time in your work study with them to help solve this case.”

“W-why?” She turned, alarmed, to look at her superior.

“Because they have much more experience and you haven’t gotten much experience with us here.” He explained, his gaze filled with something akin to fatherly love. “Now, introduce yourself.” He nudged her towards them.

The girl looked up hesitantly. Her gaze flickered away quickly, despite the encouraging smiles on their faces.

“I’m Hae-won.” She murmured. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and I hope we can work well together.”

The boys were already swooning, hearts beating loudly. Once the chief left to discuss details with Namjoon, the boys split off to look around. Jungkook immediately took a place next to Hae-won.

“Hey, Hae-won.” He grinned. She flushed and looked away. He was reminded of Y/N, but Hae-won was 10x shyer it seemed. “Wanna show me around?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Now come on, how are you going to be an interrogation officer if people can barely hear you? Speak up.” He teased. Hae-won looked up startled, eyes wide.

“Oh right, yeah, that.” She murmured, more to herself than anything, but Jungkook heard it.

“Do you not want to be an interrogation officer? That’s perfectly fine, y’know?” Jungkook paid no mind to her confused expression. “It’s not perfect for everyone.”

“Hm.” She didn’t seem amused, just lost in thought. She seemed to notice the awkward pause, however, because she tugged on his arm. “Right, let me show you my favorite part of this station!”

As Jungkook was dragged away, Yoongi spoke with Jin.

“The people here are...odd.” the paler man spoke.

“It’s a small town, Yoongles.” Jin said.

“I guess...and don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“Yoongles.” The man scoffed. Jin swatted his arm.

“Now, is that anyway to talk to your hyung?” The older man teased.

In the corner, Taehyung and Jimin were looking around the empty station.

“Where is everyone?” Taehyung scrunched his nose, trying not to sneeze as a plume of dust flew into his face. Jimin ran his finger along the edge of a desk, tilting his head as he looked at the fine layer of grime on his finger.

“Not sure. Maybe it’s just an off day.” Jimin shrugged, wiping his finger off on his pants.

“I mean, why have all these desks if you don’t use them?”

“Hae-won suggested we get them.” Officer Nam said, arms crossed as he appeared in the doorway. Taehyung jumped, goosebumps running up his arms as Jimin tapped his foot nervously.

“Why?” The detective asked.

“She said ‘just in case’.” The officer mimicked the young girl. They surveyed the room. Eight desks.

“Hm. Interesting.”

Officer Nam just shrugged nonchalantly. “That girl can be a little weird sometimes. She’s too eager, too soft for this line of work.”

“I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it.” Taehyung suddenly felt the need to defend the poor girl. Officer Nam’s lips slid into a sleazy grin.

“I see.” He said.

“Let’s split up.” Namjoon announced upon arrival. The alleyway was in a rather shady part of the town. There was fresh blood on the stones, a smear on the pavement, an arc of blood across the wall. None of them even flinched, not even Hae-won.

“I’ll take Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin.” Jin said. “Let’s look over the crime scene.”

Taehyung nodded, pulling out his camera to take pictures. Yoongi crouched near the blood smear on the pavement and Jimin wandered around, handing them gloves and then running his hands over every seam in the wall.

Namjoon took Hae-won, Hoseok, and Jungkook to interview witnesses and the surrounding townspeople.

Jimin knelt on the ground, hand running over a soft texture. Curious, he carefully picked up the object. In his hand was a soft tie, one that looked oddly familiar. He lifted it to the air, examining it in the fading sunlight. It looked new, not exactly a week old. It was possible that it was planted there, but he needed to bring it in nonetheless. The pink haired man took out a ziploc bag and placed the tie inside of it before sealing it up once more.

“Who was the victim and how was she found?” Hoseok asked, holding a notepad and pen. Officer Nam scratched his head for a minute before walking over to the spot.

“Right here.” He gestured to where a pool of blood was at the end of the blood streak. “She was leanin’ up against this wall, throat slit as y’know.”

“Mhm.” There was the scratch of the cheap pen against the notepad as Hoseok wrote down his words. “What was her name?”

“Mun-hee.”

“Great. Thank you for your cooperation, if you have any further information, please do tell us.” Hoseok dipped his head. Hae-won observed from a distance, standing next to Namjoon as he explained the process to her.

“So Hoseok here is going to ask the most important question first and then go on to specifics. Pleasantries aren’t too necessary until the end. He’ll close with a polite statement and leave.” The chief said as they watched the interaction. “In fact, here he comes now.”

Hoseok waved at the two and winked at Hae-won. “Didya learn anything?”

“Uh, yeah.” Hae-won smiled anxiously under his gaze and he laughed. Namjoon pulled at them to regroup with the others as night drew nearer.

The next day, they decided to have a formal meeting to discuss the situation.

“So, we have Mun-hee, killed and placed in the exact same way as Jane Doe.” Jin laid out the facts. “She even looked a bit like Jane Doe. Were they relatives?”

“No.” Hoseok shook his head.

“I found a tie at the scene.” Jimin held up the plastic bag. Hae-won looked on curiously. Now Jimin had their attention. “It looks familiar, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“That’s from Betty’s Diner.” Hae-won interrupted. “I recognize it and I think it’s Hak-kun’s.”

“Why?” Namjoon turned to look at the small girl. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Well, he didn’t show up for work so I’m guessing he quit. He called me before that to say he lost his tie and broke down because his boss scolded him for forgetting to wear it.” She mused to herself before straightening again. “Those are just speculations.”

The chief of Bangtan smiled at her with a nod of approval. Even Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, Taehyung mimicked his expression. She was wary of the two of them. It always felt like they could see right through her.

“Listen, it’s Friday. The killer strikes again tomorrow and if it’s Hak-kun, then we need to bring him into custody.” Yoongi said factually.

“Are you seriously going to gamble people’s lives? What if it’s not him? Then we have no one watching out for the killer because we’re all trying to watch him.” Hoseok looked appalled at the suggestion.

“Listen, I’m fine with that. We could see if there’s a pattern.” Yoongi shrugged.

“There are people’s lives at risk here!” Hoseok shouted, slamming a fist onto the table. The other members jumped, surprised to see Hoseok so worked up.

“Jeez, you cops always get so worked up about people’s lives.” Yoongi said with a groan.

“You’re technically a cop too, ya know?” The man sighed and slouched in his chair, defeated.

“He has a point.” Taehyung piped up, earning a glare from his mentor. Instead of cowering back, as per usual, he jutted out his chin and continued. “Besides, don’t you think these murders are just too...delicate? Too well thought out for someone who’s doing this simply out of a moment of anger.”

“We still can’t discount the fact that his tie was found at the crime scene. That’s damning evidence.” Jin jumped in.

There was a tense silence, Yoongi and Taehyung exchanging warring glares and Jin now staring intensely at Hoseok. A muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitched uncontrollably. Namjoon’s gaze swept the room before he slowly stood, hands pressing to the table.

“I say we bring him in for questioning. We don’t have to guard him if we just put him in a cell overnight.” He said, trying to reach a conclusion both sides would agree with. Jimin, who hadn’t spoken his opinion, just watched as the team was already divided.

“Doesn’t it feel like the killer is toying with us?” He murmured, but with the silence in the room, everyone heard.

“What do you mean by that, Jiminie?” Hoseok turned his attention away from Jin. His movement stirred the other members to look at him, Hae-won remained silent.

“Mun-hee is found in the exact same situation as Jane Doe, as if the killer expected us and wanted to put on a show. A show of power. They’re saying ‘look, I did it once, I can do it again, and stump you every time.’ A subtle fuck you.” Jimin’s eyes darkened. The other men visibly stiffened, looking around nervously.

“But how would they know?” Namjoon asked.

“Small town, word spreads fast.” Taehyung said dryly.

“That doesn’t narrow anything down.” Jin sighed, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

“Well, actually,” Jungkook piped up. The attention turned to him and he swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Eye witness accounts say they saw a ‘strange man’ walking around.” He spoke, tapping his pen against the notepad in front of him. They pondered over this discovery.

“Hak-kun fits that.” Taehyung muttered, saying what was on the others’ minds.

“Just because he’s a man?” Hae-won scoffed, a sudden hard tone to her voice that had Jungkook turning to look at her, surprised. She quickly cleared her throat, returning to the quiet voice she usually had. “I mean, I just, I don’t know if that’s enough information, but with his tie, I think it’s a good idea to investigate him.”

“Right.” Namjoon nodded, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Well, we’ll bring him in, get a warrant for his arrest, there’s substantial evidence, and interview him. Any objections?”

The six men’s eyes scanned the room before they all nodded. They waited, staring expectantly at Hae-won. She flushed a bright red from being thrusted into the spotlight.

“Y-yeah. That sounds great.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. They all smiled fondly at her.

“Saturday, the countdown begins.” Jin mused, picking up his watch from his bedside table.

“You’re setting a bad example, joking about these murders.” Namjoon sighed, rolling over, throwing an arm around the older man. The tips of Jin’s ears went red, goosebumps rolling up and down his body.

“Joonie, some people have a sense of humor.” He snorted, turning over to face the man next to him. He placed his hands on either side of Namjoon’s face and slowly leaned in. The chief met the distance, lips brushing Jin’s. Then the chief smiled, pulling away to look at his second in command. He loved this man.

“I have a great sense of humor, I fell in love with you after all.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended or touched by your proclamation of love.” Jin huffed, shifting to sit up, hotel blankets pooling around his waist.

“You’re unfair, Jin.” Namjoon murmured. “So handsome and, fuck.” He sighed, obviously conflicted.

“We already know I’m the handsomest, Joonie.”

“But how did you end up with a mess like me? Sometimes you handle the children better than me, and I’m supposed to be the police chief!”

“They just need a little mothering. And don’t underestimate yourself, I’m sure a person like Y/N would throw herself at you if she got the chance, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Jin laughed, getting up and pulling on his suit.

It was sort of a uniform, black linen pants and a white button up. This was paired with a navy blue suit jacket that had his badge in the pocket. He went to the bathroom to comb his hair and brush his teeth, mumbling something about there being a lack of room service at this motel. Namjoon just chuckled at his grumbling and got dressed as well. He wore black pants, like Jin, and a white button up shirt, except his suit jacket was a faded brown.

“You always bring up Y/N, it’s almost like you like her too.” Namjoon pointed an accusing finger at his partner.

“And what if I did?”

“Well it would be unfair because I met her first.”

“You can’t just claim women, Joonie.” He rolled his eyes and opened the heavy hotel room door.

“I’ll do what I want.”

“You say that now, but we all know she has you whipped.”

“Who has who whipped?” Jungkook’s curious voice echoed through the hallway. Jin spun on his heel to face the maknae.

“Now look what you’ve done.” Jin glared at Namjoon who just shrugged innocently.

“I’m just kidding.” Jungkook sighed. “I’m not as innocent as you guys think I am.” He wandered down the stairs, finally getting tired of acting dumb, the Chief and Second in Command now following him.

“Elaborate.” Namjoon demanded.

“Oh please, you guys actually bought that I was that oblivious?” He sat down, ignoring the other men at the table whose conversation came to a halt at the sight of them.

“Well, I-” Jin’s face was red.

“Come on, I know Taehyung and Yoongi are practically eye fucking each other every minute and quite literally fucking each other every night. Please keep it down guys.” The youngest pointed a finger at the two men sitting next to each other. They looked away with a huff, but their faces were red.

“And You two.” He turned to Namjoon and Jin. “You make me sick, really. You’re so cute and reliable. Then you go and flaunt your cuteness to everyone. We all see it! Hoseok and Jimin-guys, just ask each other out already!”

There was a long silence. Jungkook shrunk back in his seat, bravado gone, now worried he took it a little too far.

“Kookie, you’re not aware of the full story here.” Namjoon chuckled after a tense moment, the noise echoed by the other men at the table.

“You really want to tell him?” Jin eyed Joon warily.

“It’s time he knows.” Taehyung sighed.

“What? Know what?” Jungkook felt the bubble of envy in his stomach. They kept so many things from him; little secret, jokes. One time they forgot to invite Jungkook to his own surprise party.

“Well,” Jimin reached out and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “We’re actually...all together already.”

“Oh.” The younger’s voice was soft, trying not to betray the emotions flowing through him. They were all dating? And without him? Was he fucking seventh wheeling??? “Without me?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

Jin started laughing his windshield wiper laugh as Hoseok smiled. Taehyung and Yoongi exchanged glances.

“That was an unexpected answer.” Yoongi muttered under his breath.

“That’s what we wanted to talk about this morning.” Jimin said soothingly, touch relaxing Jungkook easily. “We want you to join us.”

“R-really?”

“Yes.” Taehyung nodded quickly.

“Is that a yes?” Hoseok asked, watching Jungkook’s mouth open and close. The sounds of the guests around him went underwater. He couldn’t hear anything, emotions spiraling out of control. All six of them? It was insane. But then he couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else.

“Yes.” He said quietly. “Yes!” He said again, louder. Namjoon smiled, cupping his chin with his slender fingers.

“Then, may I?” He asked for permission softly.

Jungkook simply nodded and Namjoon tentatively placed his lips against his. It was quick, brief, one might even think it was an accident if it hadn’t been for Namjoon’s hand on his chin.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby, it’s just that...this is a small town. That’s why we’re trying not to be very open.”

“Oh, I see.” Jungkook refused to pout. He wanted to have some big romantic story, but that would have to wait. They were trying to solve a series of murders, dammit.

“We should get going.” Yoongi glanced at his watch and the others agreed, standing and taking their suit jackets off the backs of their chairs.

The morning breakfast rush had dissipated, now only the metal containers of bacon and eggs left. The place was just as dusty as the police station and it made Jungkook’s nose twitch with the urge to sneeze.

“Why is everything so dusty here?” Jimin complained, rubbing his nose with his sleeve.

“Yeah, it’s making me-” Taehyung was interrupted by the loud sneeze that escaped his mouth.

“Bless you.” Yoongi responded immediately, rubbing Taehyung’s back caringly.

It was the first sign of affection Yoongi had openly given Taehyung. They were alone, for one, and for two, Taehyung seemed a little down today, just a little sad.

“Let’s get going, Hak-kun should be in his apartment still, according to the schedule Hae-won gave us.” Jin checked his phone to pull up the screenshot.

“Why does she have his schedule?” Jimin asked innocently.

“It’s a small town, who knows?” Yoongi pressed his lips into a thin line.

Knock knock knock. Namjoon waited patiently, his partners waiting near the car so as to not scare Hak-kun off. There was the sound of footsteps and a loud groan. The door opened a crack, stopped by the chain inside.

“Who are you?” The voice was gruff.

“I’m Kim Namjoon from the Bangtan Police Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the murders of Jane Doe, Mun-hee, and others.”

“Okay one second.” The voice was more awake this time as he shut the door. The chain rattled on the other side and then the door opened fully. A man stood in clothes that looked like he’d slept in them. Namjoon immediately recognized him as their rude waiter.

“Had a rough night?” He tried to be pleasant.

“Yeah, slept in the car again. The damn heater broke in my apartment.” The man grumbled, stepping aside to let him in. When Namjoon walked in, already tense, his eyes had to adjust to the darkness.

Despite the thin streams of light shining through the slats in his windows, the room was in utter darkness. As he adjusted, he could make out piles of clothing on the floor, dishes in the sink, unwashed, and cups littering the floor. There was also an odd assortment of broken items in the corner of the room, hidden in the darkness.

It looked like someone threw a rager in this house and then left. The brown haired police chief was surprised anyone could be this messy. Like, he was messy, yes, but he would never let himself degenerate to this state.

“What do you need to know?” Hak-kun somehow found a place to sit on the couch, but it had a dent carved in it and Namjoon was sure that was the only place you could sit on that couch.

“Actually, we have a warrant for your arrest due to substantial evidence implicating you in the murder of Mun-hee.” Namjoon dug around his pockets and took out the papers.

“Oh, I see.” Hak-kun’s eyes didn’t quite meet Namjoon’s. He looked around, jaw clenching in signs of annoyance.

“What’s that?” The chief asked, pointing to the broken objects in the corner of the room. The man’s nostrils flared in anger.

“I just get mad sometimes and things happen, okay?” He snapped. “I’ll go with you willingly, I have nothing to hide.” Hak-kun stood and dusted off his pants, though they were already dirty with food stains.

Namjoon grimaced and nodded, in a hurry to leave the dirty apartment.

Audio recording #1:

MYG: Is it alright if we record this?

HK: Yeah, it’s fine.

MYG: Great, okay, please tell us how you are connected to Mun-hee.

HK: Mun-hee...ah, Mun-hee. We went to school together. Wait, can I get a glass of water or something? I have a splitting headache.

MYG: Of course.

KTH: So you knew her?

HK: Hah, well, we grew up together. It was often just us, this stupid town, the old schools. A lot of kids come here because it’s the closest school around these parts, but only a couple actually live here.

MYG: Who else lives here?

HK: Hm, there was me, Mun-hee, Joo-Eun, and another girl, her name is slipping my mind.

KTH: You grew up with these people, though, how do you not know their names?

HK: She was always easily forgettable. She’s not much trouble though, I remember her being a nice girl...until, nevermind.

MYG: Until what?

HK: It’s not my place to say.

KTH: Well it would do you good to say it.

MYG (muffled): Taehyung get it together.

HK: I don’t want to talk about it.

MYG: That’s alright, Hak-kun, I can call you that, right?

HK: Yeah.

MYG: What do you remember about last saturday?

HK: Not much. I remember I drank some weird shit at the party-

MYG: The same one Mun-hee went to?

HK: Yes.

MYG: And why were you there, Hak-kun.

HK: Mun-hee is, was, my friend, sir. I would never do anything to hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering. Listen, I know you guys are trying your best, but just drop it. I have nothing to do with it. That tie went missing long before Mun-hee’s body was found. I’ve obviously been framed and you stupid ass-

MYG: Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Thank you for coming, Sir. Please calm down or we’ll be forced to detain you.

HK: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, ASSHO-

Beep.

“Well that was certainly insightful.” Yoongi mumbled, glancing over to where Hak-kun sat, dejected, in his cell. Taehyung sighed and played the tape again, taking more notes of the important information along with his personal thoughts.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this.” Namjoon eyed the two with a raised eyebrow.

“Joonie, he was a difficult person to interview. I could tell he was annoyed the entire time except when he spoke of Mun-hee.” Taehyung frowned, flipping through his notes. “Here, I wrote down ‘aggressively making eye contact and frowning.’”

“Are those seriously your notes?” Yoongi looked through his notes which were pages longer. “Do I need to train you in note taking as well?”

“No! I just, I don’t notice as much as you, oh wise Yoongles.” Taehyung crossed his arms, pouting. Yoongi just softened his expression.

“You can always tell me what’s wrong.” He placed a tentative hand on Taehyung’s arm.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Hae-won’s soft voice hovered in the air. She was closing the door of the security room behind her.

Jin often handled the security room, but he trusted her to watch Hak-kun while he went to the bathroom. Jin slipped back in as she stepped into the room with the others.

Yoongi immediately dropped his hand, to the disappointment of Taehyung, and straightened. A cold look once again cast over his face. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to let you know that I have to head back early to finish up some school work.” She explained with a gentle smile.

“Okay, rest up and study well.” Namjoon nodded and she dipped her head, heading out the door. They all stared fondly at her retreating form. “The same goes for the rest of you.”

They had spent all day just interviewing and wrestling answers out of Hak-kun and yet they came up empty every time. Maybe he was truly innocent and they were trying to convict a good man. This was the kind of case where things could get really messy if they kept going on intuition instead of hard facts.

“Let’s wrap it up and head back to the hotel. Jin, are you coming?” Namjoon called as the others filed out of the station.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna check some things and then I’ll be back in no time.”

Trusting his second in command, Namjoon left.

The first sunlight was filtering through the windows of an empty cell. A glass of water was on the ground next to the cot, tipped over, the ground wet beneath it.

“How could he have escaped? Where did he go?”

Hands reached out to the unsuspecting man.

“Do you have a headache? You look in pain.” The voice said, hiding the glinting blade in the moonlight.

“Who are you?”

“Just a nice person. I have something that could really help.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, just some medication for headaches. It works wonders.”

“Pass it here.”

The man is passed out soon enough and the shadowy figure grabs the keys off one of the hooks in the back and unlocks his cell. Then the figure dragged him out, put him in his car, slit his throat, and placed his face down at the dashboard. They were back home in 10 minutes, bloodlust satisfied.

“The feed is just looping. How did I not notice this before?” Jin mumbled, head in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay, the killer was...tricky.” Namjoon comforted his lover.

“Boss.” Jungkook piped up, holding a phone in the air. “It’s for you.”

The chief of police stood and walked over with purposeful steps. It was easy to see why he was the chief. He was sure of himself, walked with purpose, passion, and he always looked like he had a mission.

“Mhm?” He murmured. “This is he. What? How did it get there? Okay, okay, I’ll send my best men out to investigate. Please hang in there and don’t touch anything.” He hung up, rushing to throw on his suit jacket. “Hak-kun��s body was just found.”

“Where?” Jimin stood as well and the others followed suit.

“In his car. No one disturbed him, claimed he slept in his car all the time and no one thought much of it. It’s just...so odd.” Namjoon sighed.

“Why?” Yoongi tilted his head. Their fearless leader wasn’t usually thrown by anything, always keeping a cool facade. But here he seemed to be cracking.

“His car was found across town.” He raced out the door, watching the others pile in and Jin took the driver’s seat. “I just feel like this case is getting away from us. We’re obviously missing something.” The chief stared out the window, thinking intensely. The other members knew not to make too much noise.

“Do you think...it’s time to bring someone else in?” Taehyung asked quietly.

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook said defensively.

“I mean,” Taehyung shot the younger boy a look that shut him up. “That we may need more of a specialist in here. There’s one thing we haven’t been able to look at.”

“And that is?” Yoongi closed his eyes lazily as he leaned back in his seat.

“Blood. We haven’t been able to test the blood.”

“Well, we only know one reliable person who can do that and she’s probably very busy.” Jin scolded the younger males. “But it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s just take a look and then we can decide.”

The street they pulled up to was quiet, not a person in sight. The leaves shifted in the breeze, skittering across the ground. It made for an uneasy sight. They stepped out and Jin locked the car.

Jimin handed out gloves and then he went around, feeling over the creases of the blue car, completely ignoring the dead body inside.

“Found anything interesting?” Jungkook called.

“Nope.” Jimin responded flatly, concentrated. He peered inside, seeing the blood pooling on the dashboard and dripping into Hak-kun’s lap.

“I think it’s definitely the same killer. He has the same neck slice.” He felt over the windows. Not a single scratch. “No signs of forced entry or struggle with the car.” He dictated as Hoseok took careful notes.

“I see no bruising visible on the victim, wait.” He crawled onto the back of the car, peering through the back window. “I see some purple markings on the back of the victim.”

The shadowy figure dragged Hak-kun, his back bumping over every curve, spine taking the brunt of the blows. He moaned in pain, starting to stir. The figure panicked. They need to get this over with quickly.

“Anything else?” Hoseok asked.

“No, I’d have to see the inside.” Jimin sighed, brushing some hair out of his face.

“We’ll see what we can do to get the keys.” Namjoon nodded at Hoseok to write that down.

“This case has me stumped, Namjoon. Obviously, the killer must be drugging them, how else can they get away with all this with no struggle?” Jimin stretched his arms.

“It’s confusing to me too, but I’m sure we’ll find out something soon enough.”

“Namjoon, I think we all know who we need to call.” Yoongi set a firm hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and the police chief’s shoulders drooped.

“But I don’t want to bother her, besides I think we can figure it out, right?”

“This is her job, It’s time to man up and call Y/N.”

A/N p.2: Hey guys! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! Any predictions yet? I’m sorry this took so long, I was in a creative block

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medeafive · 3 years

Text

Blood and Stone - 29

Masterpost

Prague has never smelled so much of vampires. It’s in every street, behind every corner, and she follows the smell as she speeds on her motorcycle towards the screams, through the cold night air. She smells blood, too, human and vampire, though the screams are harder to distinguish. They’re coming closer, right side of the street, and when she sees the broken windows and the glass on the street, she knows exactly where to go.

The strong wooden door has been kicked down with more than human force and she heads straight for the stairs, gun drawn. The screaming has stopped but the smell of blood intensifies with every step. The doors on the second floor are all barred and intact, though heavily scratched, so she heads up one more. The door on the left is ripped to pieces, blood splattered into the hallway. She presses against the wall, keeping her breathing down, peeking in.

There’s a severed arm in the hallway but worse, she hears faint breathing. Oh no. Not again. Steps. She braces herself-

The vampire tries to sink his fangs into her arm and she slashes his face with her knife, he screeches and presses his hands to the graying skin and she takes the opportunity to kick him in the chest, sending him flying down the hallway with a cracking sound, hitting the floor hard. His fangs are bloody, his eyes very dark, not a fledgling anymore. His clothes are shredded, dirty, barely covering the pale white skin. He’s probably one of those lone vampires roaming the countryside, hiding from detection by Schmidt’s goons, hoping to make it long enough on his own to be considered worthy, taking the lucky opportunity of a siege to ensure his own survival and drink as much blood on the way as he can. But now, he’s run into her.

She jumps at him as he scrambles up, sinking the knife into his shoulder, twisting it as he shrieks, she knocks out his right fang. His claws cut through the air and she has to retreat, shield her face. He hisses at her with his bloody fangs and attacks her. She rolls out underneath him, slashing his calf, he howls and drops to one knee, she grabs his head from behind and slashes his throat quickly but not deep enough, he pulls her to the floor with him, her armor creaks miserably under his claws but she delivers a clean uppercut, punches out the second fang and blocks his jaw while his claws try to break through her breast plate, she gets her hands on his knife and stabs him under the chin. It's not silver but it gives her enough time to grab her own knife from the floor, she bats his arms away, gets on top of him and drives it through his chest until the tip of the blade sinks into the wooden floor.

She remembers how darkness crept into Pierce's eyes when he died, flooding the white eyes with dark blood, but Pierce was an old vampire, not like this one. This one, his eyes are already dark, you'd never see it. Pierce is the only vampire she has killed whose eyes weren't red or black.

Okay. Now to the less pretty part.

She still hears the faint breathing. She already knew it wasn't the now dead vampire but the confirmation still hits her uncomfortably. She gets up and passes down the hallway into the apartment.

The crumpled body with the ripped off arm is in the living room, sucked almost entirely dry, definitely not breathing anymore. Faint whimpers coming from what must be the bedroom. Natasha heads there, knife gripped tight, controlling her breathing.

The woman is on the bedroom floor, bleeding from scratches on her arms, thighs and chest, trembling and whimpering, trying to crawl somewhere and just rolling in on herself. She has all the signs, the shaking, the sweating, the blown and twitching pupils. She smells like it, too. Natasha crouches down, carefully turning her head to bare the side of her neck. The woman startles but she can't really see, eyes darting around unfocused, fingers closing around thin air. Natasha stays back as good as she can, sweeping the hair back. The woman chokes with a sob. She must be in a lot of pain. The red bite mark on her neck is unmistakable.

"Please," the woman whispers, blindly flailing around without any force. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Natasha replies. She doesn't feel any hate anymore, it's just what it is, but if she lets this woman turn, she'll rip apart the people downstairs in a few hours. It's not her fault. It just has to be done.

"No!" the woman shrieks. "No, please, don't-"

The silver knife sinks into her chest, piercing her heart, and the begging stops, her arms drop heavily on the floor, empty eyes staring towards the ceiling. Natasha takes a deep breath, twisting the knife, then grabs the woman's head by her hair and cuts her head off with one vampire blood-fueled swing.

Now it's truly quiet. Lots of blood. The window is broken, cold December air streaming in. Maybe the smell will attract more vampires, scavengers, but she can't stick around when there are so many more places like this, so many more helpless victims, so many more vampires. She surveys the apartment once more, finding no survivors, retrieves her gun and then jumps through the window, three floors down, rolling through the impact, the armor protecting her from the glass shards, and before she knows it, she's back on the motorcycle, speeding towards the next unspeakable horror.

It's been a week. It had started slowly, more and more vampires, more and more attacks, and now every fucking night is a nightmare. A real bloodbath. Every vampire on their own is easy to kill, especially now that the vampire strength still hasn't worn off, but for every single one she kills, there are a dozen more the next night. A steady stream that only ever increases.

She's so in thought the falling thing almost hits her, throws her off the bike, but she zips out just barely. When she's steady enough to look up, she sees a window close on the fourth floor, wooden shutters slamming. Oh yeah. Driving through the city at night murdering people, very popular. That's also part of it.

She drives on anyway, catching a whiff of something around Nové Malešice and following it West. The area around the cemetery is deserted, as always, a popular superstition, so she turns South, stopping near the old prison when the smell becomes intense. A figure emerges from the shadows as she climbs off the bike. Sure, it has a few scratches from when she crashed into a bunch of vampires but it's not like she ruined it, no matter what Fury complains about. It's Sam.

He nods towards her blood covered armor and she shrugs, checking that her gun is still there. "Don't ask."

He shakes his head, looking up towards a dark window. "It's a group, five of them. Thought I'd better wait for backup."

"My phone broke two fights ago," she replies. "Are they in there?"

"Made sure they wouldn't leave," Sam confirms. "Actually, I was waiting for your friend but it looks like he's still busy."

It's beginning to annoy her she had a fucking baby with that guy and they still can't bring themselves to call him anything else than your friend. Nobody has mentioned the baby either, not even once, and she can't really complain about that but it still irks her. All the chiding looks, the quiet judgment, the barely hidden disgust. First, she had the benefit of the doubt when they didn't know how intimate she and James were, and then she was pregnant and dying and wasn't going to get too much criticism, or maybe she just wasn't well enough to notice, but now she has neither and she's just waiting until someone dares say something instead of it being clear on their faces, in their eyes.

"Don't need him," she replies. "Let's go."

It's actually less messy than the previous fight. Sam shoots two before the vampires notice them and she gets the jump on another. Most of all, she doesn't have to kill humans again. It's not a difficult fight, at least for two people.

She takes the moment outside for a breather, staring at the cloudy sky as she grips the bloody jagged knife. This is only going to get worse. More vampires streaming in than they can kill. And then the black cloaks. Well, the ones who aren't already here. Sam joins her. "You okay?"

She nods. She's not even tired. Just weary. "Where are we going next?"

Sam checks his phone. "I don't know. Looks like your friend is still busy."

"Don't call him that," she snaps, regretting it instantly.

"What am I supposed to call him?" Sam asks calmly. "Your boyfriend?"

She doesn't reply. This is all stupid, she knows it. It felt like it would all be okay once she survived the pregnancy but it's the opposite, now she has to deal with the monster baby and the vampire invasion and her own relationship to a fucking vampire, none of it having gotten any easier. Chiding Sam for politely ignoring the nature of her relationship with James doesn't help a thing.

"Look, I know you like him, seriously," Sam adds. "He likes you, too. And I don't blame you for that or anything but- don't you ever think it's wrong ?"

It's never felt that way. But who is she to tell? Her morals are questionable at best. She knows what she's done. She also knows that she has already killed two people tonight, two humans on the verge of turning, and meanwhile she's running around still high on vampire blood and doesn't even really feel bad about it, if she's honest. At least not as bad as she should. Like she would still know what's right or wrong.

"Killing vampires is what feels right, doesn't it?" Sam asks. "Like tonight. You didn't stop for a second to think about whether one of them has feelings, you instantly knew they're bloodsucking monsters and you killed them. Seeing your- your friend's claws on your skin, that felt revoltingly wrong."

She only really has one reply, one counter argument, and she hadn't wanted to use it because it'll only make it worse but now, it slips out. "You're just jealous."

"I'm not jealous and you know that," Sam swats away easily. "I just can't help the feeling that one day, he's going to rip you to pieces. Maybe it'll be Schmidt's mind control, maybe it'll be his true nature coming through, maybe it'll just be an accident. Doesn't really make a difference. Actually, you're lucky if Schmidt kills him before it comes to that."

She shudders. Yes, she knows the prospects are grim. She knows James is still a vampire, still wants to drink her blood, she's dancing on knife's edge and hoping he miraculously has the self-control not to do it. Sam is right, he could slip at any moment, even by accident. She just can't bring herself to get off the knife. "What am I supposed to do? Dump him?"

Sam sighs. "Bobbi says he- he bit you."

She groans loudly. So much for secrets. "Not like that, it wasn't- I'm not turning-"

"I know," Sam interrupts. "I know. But don't tempt him. Don't let him get too relaxed, too close with you."

Dropping into American euphemisms again. "I'm not sleeping with him anymore, if that's what you're asking."

"Good." Sam rubs his nose. "Just, he's in your room a lot."

He doesn't really believe her. And he's not completely wrong, maybe she would sleep with James again if he wasn't- profoundly not in control of his body. Which is exactly Sam's point. "He sleeps in the chair. Sleeps a lot, actually."

"I mean, it's your business," Sam retreats. "But that's a dangerous game you're playing."

"Yeah, because everything else we do is so fucking safe," she returns. "Come on, let's go to Malá Strana, there must be more than enough vampires around."

The castle side of the river is even worse. She hardly gets to get on her bike between fights, between shooting and stabbing and beheading. Vampires everywhere. She excels at fighting, of course, so it's not all that hard on her. Her constitution doesn't fail her even once. Compared to everything else she put her body through, this is easy.

She kills some and she saves some. Humans, that is. She kills every single vampire she comes across. For the humans, it's often too late.

She has just shot three vampires when she smells blood in the dark back room, human blood. More vampire blood, too. She takes a deep breath and kicks the barred door down.

There are vampire corpses inside, their mangled composition making it impossible to tell their number at first glance. The human smell is stronger. She's about to go through the next door when a man appears, arm wrapped in a fresh bandage, bleeding. Human. He still smells human. He looks wary when he sees her but he doesn't hide. "You weren't bitten," she states.

The man shakes his head. He's young, actually, though she couldn't tell at first. This war ages all of them. "I fought against them. The rest… it was a blur, and then they were dead."

He smells human so she'll believe him. By now, she knows what they smell like when they're about to turn. "I shot those outside. You should patch that up better or the smell will attract more."

The man bites his lip. "You should know- I saw it outside. It had a black cloak."

That could have been just James. Or it could be the Viper already, in which case they're fucked. "Was it a man?"

"Yes." The man shakes his head. "I think. No, I'm certain."

"What did he look like?" she asks. Maybe it's that Karpov guy from Russia. Or the Strucker guy from Germany. Probably not Schmidt himself, the red skin would be too recognizable.

"Dark hair," the man says. "Long. I mean, for a man."

Yep, that's her guy. "Don't worry about that one. I know him."

"You know him?" the man repeats, horrified.

"He didn't kill you, did he?" she asks back. "And you smell like a fucking buffet. Really, you should patch that up better."

The man recoils from her. "Get away from me. You- you monster ."

"Learn to kill your own fucking vampires," she returns. "Without spreading your bloody smell all over the street."

"Wow," James remarks. "You smell like a thousand deaths."

Yeah, she has all sorts of vampire blood all over. Some human, too, even though she tried to avoid it. "More like a hundred. You should get back to the tower, sun's coming up."

James grins, stepping into her space, looking for her own smell in the puddle. Or maybe he's trying to keep the different smells apart. "You know I like to live dangerously."

He smells of vampire blood, too, though it seems to have gotten less messy for him. "Not much living if you burn to a crisp."

"Make sure Steve gets home safely," he says. "Haven't seen him for a while."

She snorts, getting on her toes. "Yeah, sure. Big muscle man needs to be walked home."

"Thanks," he replies unironically. "Letting him run around just feels unresponsible."

"Yeah, yeah." She kisses his cold cheek. "Get inside already, I'm not nursing you back to health again."

He snorts. "I'll be fine, I promise. Okay, I'll see you at the Tower, or are you doing the daytime raids?"

Fury's idea, but they haven't tried it yet. She sighs, stepping back. "Nah. Should probably sleep."

"Yeah, you should," he agrees, already eyeing the next roof. "Okay. Take care. Don't forget Steve."

Steve with the good smell is starting to annoy her. James' cloak swooshes and he's up on the roof, throwing her a last look before jumping into the cold night air, disappearing.

Okay. She really should get Steve home, everything else would be petty. Clint is waiting down the street, also looking quite annoyed, and disgusted. She snorts, heading towards him. "Shut the fuck up."

"Didn't say anything," Clint returns, checking dents on his bow.

"Your face says it all," she replies, trying to remember where she last left the motorcycle. "Do you know where that Steve guy is?"

"It's like watching you cuddle a tiger," Clint states, ignoring the question. "Sure, you'll say he hasn't eaten anyone for a while and he's really nice or whatever but it's still a fucking tiger. One day, without warning, without reason, it'll rip your fucking face off."

"Spare me your circus tales," she replies. "At least the tiger is really fucking good at hunting vampires."

"No reason to cuddle him," Clint counters. "And to answer your question, no, I have no idea where Golden Boy is."

She'll have to track down his smell then. "I'm not asking you to like it. Actually, someone threw something at me tonight. Out of a window, while I was driving down the street."

"A rock?" Clint asks.

"I don't know what it was, didn't stop," she replies. "Do you ever think… if this ever ends, we're fucking done? Absolutely useless and widely despised?"

"It won't end, though," Clint returns. "But don't worry about it, we'll all be dead in the next week or two."

Natasha snorts. "Well, in that case, might as well go cuddle my tiger."

#blood and stone #buckynat #vampire au #natasha romanoff #black widow #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sam wilson #clint barton #fanfic #my writing

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peachymarkeu · 4 years

Text

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: NCT 127 x OC

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: Fluff, Angst & Suggestive

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: What is it like being an 18 year old girl that had just moved into her new apartment and then suddenly meeting the people she would consider to be her brothers while being away from her parents?

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1: 𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓻

I woke up from my very long nap and searched for my phone. It was 4 in the afternoon and I haven't started to unpack my things. I sat in the corner of my bed contemplating whether I should let my laziness consume me and fix my things tomorrow morning or just do it right away. I decided to just get it done so that I wouldn't have to do anything tomorrow. I got up from the bed and started to unpack my things from my luggage. I turned on some music again just to hype me up while fixing my things.

Angel by NCT127 is now playing on Spotify

One by one, I started to place my dresses in hangers, folded my t-shirts so they were all neatly placed inside my closet. I also arranged my shoes inside the shoe cubbies and placed my other stuff orderly inside the drawers. It took me roughly an hour to finish everything since I haven’t moved in all of my stuff. My parents told me that they will be the one to bring my other stuff over on another day.

5:30 it said on the clock and I started to feel quite hungry. I went to the kitchen to search for something to cook or to eat. I opened the refrigerator and found nothing, opened the cabinets and saw nothing but cobwebs and dust.

‘Well that’s great.’ i thought to myself. Now I have no choice but to go out and buy food from the grocery store. I rolled my eyes and went to my bedroom to change into some decent clothes.

It was quite chilly outside so I decided to wear blue jeans and a white turtleneck. I put on some white Nike socks and my Nike Air-Force 1’s. I topped it all off with a big furry coat so that I’m sure I won’t be freezing while I was out. My hair was tied in a ponytail so that the wind wouldn’t blow my hair and make it all messy.

I grabbed my keys and a hot pack and started to head out. I put on my earphones and started to listen to my playlist. Since it was rush hour, more people were seen on the streets. The sidewalks were illuminated by colorful lights from signs that are welcoming customers. To be honest, I kind of enjoyed being outside at this time. It gives me a very warm feeling seeing people around me in such a wonderful city. After a few crosses and blocks I reached the small grocery store.

“Annyeonghaseyo! Welcome to SG27.” the sales lady greeted me as I entered the store. I gave her a small smile and a bow to acknowledge her greeting.

I went straight to the rack where they kept all of the shopping baskets and carts and decided to grab a cart so that I could fit all the things that I needed to buy. I then went through the aisle and bought food, toiletries and other household items that I needed for the apartment. While strolling through the food aisle an idea popped into my head.

‘Maybe I should give something to neighbors and befriend them?’ I said in my mind and proceeded to call my Eomma and ask what ingredients I needed in order to make homemade kimchi.

Ring...Ring...Ring…

“Eomma!” I called out to her through the phone.

“Oh, wae Yuna-yah” she replied

“Eomma, what are the ingredients that I need to make homemade kimchi? I wanted to make some and give them to my neighbors.” I asked her

“Aigoo my daughter is so sweet. Listen carefully and list down everything that I will say ok?” she then listed down every ingredient that I needed.

“...and chilli powder, that’s all you need. You remember how to make it right? You used to help me whenever I made them for my coworkers.” she said to me which made me remember all the time I would help her in the kitchen which made me smile.

“Nae Eomma don’t worry I got this” I replied.

“Ok finish up buying your things and head home already it's getting late.” my Eomma said.

“Mhm…” and I ended the call.

I continued buying everything that I needed and filled up my whole cart. I went to the sales lady near the exit of the grocery store and checked out the things that I bought.

“Cash or credit?” the sales lady asked.

I gave her my card and she processed the payment and gave me my shopping bags. They were pretty heavy but I managed to carry them back to my apartment complex. As I entered the building, I dropped the shopping bags near the couch in the lobby and stretched out my arms and legs. Exhaustion was really evident in my face which made me really embarrassed knowing how haggard I looked. A few seconds later a group of people wearing black bubble coats and facemasks entered. It creeped me out seeing these tall figures, with faces well covered as if they were trying to get away from murder or some crime. I didnt realize that I was staring until someone tapped my shoulder.

“Um... excuse me, are you going to sit down? If you are going to not please move, you are blocking the seats.” the fair woman told me.

“Oh-uh sorry” I apologized and grabbed my shopping bags and went to the elevator.

As I entered the elevator the scariest thing happened to me. One by one, the mysterious tall figures entered the elevator.

‘What the fuck, Holy Shit, this is not ok. I just moved here and now I'm going to die. What are they? A mafia? No.. No.. a cult? Please save me’ I was screaming in my mind while being pushed to the very corner of the elevator.

I wasn’t able to press my floor button but say that it was already pressed along with the 5th floor. I’m not even exaggerating, this might be the longest elevator ride I’ve ever been on. I couldn’t breathe for a second with all the anxiety that was crawling up my body.

“5th floor” the lady elevator voice said.

4 of them got off the elevator and before the doors closed the last person said something to the others.

“Rest well guys, we’ve got a long day tomorrow”

‘Hold up that sounds really familiar. I know I’ve heard that voice somewhere’ i said in my mind.

We waited a few seconds again until we reached our floor. Once the doors opened I was the first one to get out of the elevator and turned to the left. I told myself not to look back but I did anyway. I saw the 5 other tall figures go the same way I did. I quicken my pace, scared of why they were following me. I looked back again and they were still following me so I started to jog to my door. When I reached my door I searched for my keys in my pockets while they were getting closer and closer.

‘Come on, come on’ i thought to myself.

They were literally a few feet near me when I found my keys and opened my door. In a rush I started to throw the shopping bags into the apartment one by one. Easy to say that luck was not on my side because the very last bag ripped in the bottom and everything inside it was now on the floor. I spaced out for like 3 seconds then...

“Yah!” one of the tall figures shouted. He then went to where I was very quickly with their long legs.

I got so scared that I left the things on the floor and went straight inside of my apartment leaving my things on the floor. Before shutting the door I saw a glimpse of the tall figure's face.

‘Wait… Jaehyun Oppa…?’

BAAM! The door closed.

#taeyong #taeil #johnny #doyoung #yuta #jaehyun #jungwoo #mark #haechan #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #NCT127 #NCT #10thFloorBrothers

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dalamjisung · 5 years

Text

what you want ❋ bambam

word count: 4213

genre: angst, college!au

pairing: reader x bambam

description: people have been feeding you lies about the boy in your class. it’s time to learn the truth by yourself

Everyone knows him before he even says his name. Well, before he even says his nickname; his name is too long and too foreign for most. It starts with his clothes; all designer brands and fashion forward, with their bright colors and bedazzles. Then, the accessories come next, shinning more than the street lamps in the Main Ave. But it is mostly his attitude that confirms his identity; from his smirk and brooding eyes, to even the way he walks, going around as if he owns the place and everyone in it. He screams young and rich; and indeed he is. BamBam is probably the richest kid you know, and he is not afraid to flaunt it.

You two have been in the same college for two years now, and in the same class for about a month, since the beginning of the semester, and lo and behold, BamBam is yet to learn your name. He is everything you despise; arrogant, stupid, and inconsiderate– or at least, you heard him to be like that. You’ve never interacted with the boy with the few exceptions of homework exchange in the class group chat, and you hope to stay that way; you aren’t interested in whatever hookup tales and travel stories he has to tell, your life is hard enough as it is, trying to balance work and school, you didn’t have to feel bad about being broke, either.

The problem is that you were really good friends with Jackson, a Chinese exchange upperclassmen, and he, in turn, is really good friends with BamBam. You are also friends with Youngjae and Jinyoung, two great guys that happen to also be friends with BamBam. It made you cautious, if anything, since every time you want to vent about the stupidities of the Thai boy, you have to make sure that it isn’t to his friends, not wanting to put them in a very uncomfortable position– and that is really hard, considering the fact that BamBam is good friends with everyone.

It isn’t until the day before your Literature midterm that you lose it. The college is already in pure chaos thanks to the exams, and people are being even more inconsiderate than usual, but you don’t have it in you to complain– you are too shy to say anything. Even though you are the class’ representative, it is really hard for you to be the center of attentions; it makes you incredibly uncomfortable to have all eyes on you, and you signed up for the class rep. position as a way to challenge yourself to be more out there. It had been Jackson’s idea, and he’s helping you out ever since.

“Excuse me.”

You look up from where you are standing just to come face to face with Kim Yugyeom, aka BamBam’s best friend.

“Yes?” You ask, voice wavering a little bit. You have to admit; this boy’s height is enough to intimidate you, now adding the beauty on top of it all is just too much.

“You’re the class representative, right?” He asks with a wide smile.

“…yeah,” You nod slowly. What’s the catch? “What can I help you with, Yugyeom?”

“Oh, you even know my name,” He teases, throwing you a wink. “I just need help with the new topic in Psychology… I wasn’t in school last week and I’m afraid that if I don’t catch up now, I never will.”

“Oh,” Your eyes go wide. You never said anything to anyone, but you’ve also heard things about Kim Yugyeom, and they were the same, if not worse, them the things you’ve heard about BamBam. You wanted to say no, and just save yourself from the disaster that this is bound to turn into, but you can’t– this is your job, after all. “Sure. I-I can help you, I think…”

“Great!” He smiles even wider and for a second you think his cheeks are about to rip. “Would today at 5PM work? At the coffee shop in front of the dance building”

“Yeah,” You sigh, already throwing your plans to re-watch Friends out of the window. “I guess it does.”

“Thank you so much, class rep!” Yugyeom gives you two thumbs up and his eyes are almost disappearing under the big smile on his face. Suddenly, his face falls, and his eyes are not two squints anymore, but two huge brown orbs staring at you intently. “Ah! I forgot to ask! I have a friend who was also gone and is also struggling with the new topic… is it alright if he comes with?”

“Of course, who–“

Before you can ask, Yugyeom is already gone, running through the halls squealing in excitement. You sigh, tiredly, already knowing who to blame for this.

[y/n: how could you betray me like this?]

[jackson: idk what you’re talking about]

[y/n: fess up, heathen]

[y/n: you were the one that told yugyeom to ask me for help]

[jackson: goddammit he told you, didn’t he?]

[y/n: he didn’t have to -_-]

[y/n: yugyeom doesn’t care about school, but he does care about his hyungs]

[jackson: lol what?]

[y/n: what?]

[jackson: who told you that?]

[jackson: yugyeom is the biggest nerd I’ve ever met]

[jackson: and I’m friends with YOU]

You roll your eyes at that. Sure, you like getting good grades, and sure, you might not be the most socially active person, but you wouldn’t call yourself a nerd. And you wouldn’t call Yugyeom a nerd, either… at least not from what you’ve been told. Well, I guess people can be wrong.

Shrugging it off, you try to focus on the rest of your classes, but you can’t. If you had it wrong about Yugyeom, what else could you possibly have been misinformed? Shaking it off, you start making your way to the coffee shop, hoping to get there a little earlier than Yugyeom and his friend to collect yourself and prepare your notes.

You realize your efforts were in vain when you see the two boys through the window, with a couple of girls laughing at something they said. Your eyes didn’t miss the pile of books and notes on the table and you smile a little; maybe you were wrong about them, and maybe that is okay. Maybe the friend he brought is a nice guy, and maybe you could make new friends, and maybe– just maybe– Jackson is right; they are worth a shot.

The door jingles when you walk in and you smile when you see Mark behind the counter.

“Y/N,” He calls loudly, and you walk over just for him to give you a cup of coffee. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came over to help Yugyeom and his friend with some work they missed when they were out last week,” You shrug, and Mark eyes go wide.

“Uh, I thought you didn’t like BamBam…” Mark goes off slowly, a little confused with the situation.

“What?” You laugh. “I said Yugyeom.”

“You’re in for a surprise,” It’s all Mark says before walking away to help another customer.

Just as you are about to call him back, Yugyeom walks over to you and grabs your heavy bag.

“Over here, Y/N,” He smiles and guides you to the table you saw him before. “Girls, it was nice meeting you, but now we have to get back to studying.”

“We’ll see you guys at the party Friday,” One of them says and leaves, chuckling with her friend.

“Y/N, thank you so much for agreeing to help us out,” Yugyeom starts, as you focused on getting your books out of your bag. “This is BamBam, by the way, I’m not sure if you two ever met.”

You’re in for a surprise.

This is it; you were going to kill Mark Tuan.

“Nice to meet you,” BamBam smiles and sure, it’s adorable and innocent looking, but you aren’t about to be fooled. “I’m BamBam.”

“I know,” You say shortly, ignoring the hand. “I am sure everyone knows.”

BamBam’s brows go up high and his eyes get wide.

“Sure…” He says uncomfortably. “Should we start?”

You smile awkwardly at that and tell them to open their books. The evening goes by quickly– Yugyeom and BamBam, as much as you hate saying it, are great students. They pay attention and seem to grasp the subject quickly, even taking notes and asking questions. BamBam is not as enthusiastic as Yugyeom, but you can clearly see he is trying his best. Maybe I was wrong, you sigh in defeat, looking at the dark street as you wait for them to finish a worksheet you gave them. Maybe he is not that bad… maybe people are wrong about him.

“Finished!” BamBam announces with a bright grin. You take a quick look to find that most of his answers were correct, with the exception of a couple. He would’ve been one of the highest scores in the class had he been there on the day of the quiz.

“Well, congrats,” You smile a bit and he mirrors you. “You got it mostly right. I don’t think you need my help any further.”

“What about me?” Yugyeom hands your the worksheet and you laugh joyously as you read it over. “You got them all right,” You chuckle, honestly happy about the progress of the two boys. “You guys are good to go.”

They do a weird handshake and then look at you again. “Thank you so much for helping us, Y/N,” Yugyeom smiles. “Now we’re all caught up with the class.”

“And to celebrate,” BamBam smirks and you can feel something change; a switch in the air, per se, and suddenly there is a slight tension looming over you guys. “Why don’t you come to the party on Friday? It’s over at Jaebeom hyung’s and–“

“I’ll pass,” Your smile is gone now, and all you can think of is the huge amount of people that would certainly be there– the bodies, the loud music, the smell… all of those together are not a good combination for you. “But thanks, BamBam.”

“Why?” He laughs, and it feels a little odd, almost as if he is laughing at you. “It’ll be fun, come on!”

“Bam, I think she’s not into that kind of stuff,” Yugyeom tried to reason.

“Yeah, it’s really not for me,” You shrug. “But thanks, anyways.”

“No, don’t knock it ‘till you try it!” BamBam says a little too loudly and you wince, retreating into yourself. “I promise we’ll make it worth your while; you need to relax a little, Y/N!”

And without even knowing, BamBam crossed a line you aren’t sure he can uncross. Mark, hearing all of it as he got ready to leave, made his way over to your table in hopes of smoothing things down, but you were too wind up.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” You are seething, and any normal person could see it.

“I said you need to relax,” To top it all, BamBam rolls his eyes at you, and you have to hold back from choking him unconscious. “You know, you are always talking about school and all and I just think that if you go to the party, you’ll have fun… for once!”

“I do have fun,” You mumble through gritted teeth, and you see the exact moment BamBam noticed your clenched fists. “And it might not be your concept of fun, but I enjoy it nonetheless. Not all of us shit money and fuck everything that walks; I have things I need to worry about, unlike you. You don’t even know me, what gives you the right to judge me?”

Mark gasps from behind you, and his hands are on yours, pulling you way from BamBam, but the latter holds you by the elbow with a strong grip. You can’t quite get a good look at him because of his hair, but you could feel it; BamBam was pissed and his anger was overpowering.

“That’s very hypocritical of you,” He whispers in your ear. “Class rep.”

Mark drags you out of there before you can answer, but in all honesty, you weren’t sure you could– he was right, after all.

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

The week goes by quickly and Friday approaches as if it was a very important day– and it could be, if you consider movie night with Jackson and Jinyoung a special occasion that occurs every week. What you get, though, when you arrive at their place, is not what you are expecting.

Jackson looks out of the ordinary good; he has a nice shirt on and his hair is sleeked back. Jinyoung is sitting on the couch looking like he always does, yet still looking incredible. They were clearly waiting for you, since you barely have time to put the snack bag down before your friends are pushing you out the door and inside a taxi. You squeeze in the back, confused and slightly amused, as you hear Jackson spit out the final address.

“Isn’t that Jaebeom’s address?” You mutter out loud, and just as you connect the dots, the car is moving. “Guys, no.”

“Yes.” They say in unison.

“Enough is enough, Y/N,” Jackson states. “We’ve always let you be because we know you get really anxious about parties and new people, but Mark told us what happened a few days ago. Look, it was not right for BamBam to just tell you all of that, he doesn’t know half of your story, but you need to stop this.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You live your life studying and working– which is great! Don’t get us wrong, we’re not saying for you to drop all of your responsibilities and party all the time,” Jinyoung shrugs. “But you are 21… You are living your prime days doing homework. That’s not living. We’ve always been here for you, and we will always be here for you, life goes beyond school. You have to admit, BamBam was right– it’s time to have fun.”

You groan, pained to hear those words. “I know he was right,” You mumble, looking out of the window. “I know I’m a hypocritical bitch. Anything else you want to rub in my face, Jinyoung?”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” He gasps. “What the hell did BamBam say to you?”

You shake your head in disappointment. Not at the boys; they had a point. You really needed to live beyond your dorm walls and have some fun, as much as you hated hearing that; it hurt on a level that you never wanted to reach. You were disappointed in yourself. It wasn’t always like this, and the fact that you allowed yourself to fall back into this routine killed you. You weren’t happy, you knew that, but you were content, and for a second, that seemed better than being vulnerable.

“Just some stuff,” You finally answer. “He wasn’t wrong, though.”

“But apparently we were,” Jackson sighs, worried eyes set on you. He could read you like a book. “I’m sorry, Y/N, we don’t know the full picture, and we thought this would be a good idea but–”

Well isn’t this ironic?

“We can go back if you want?” Jinyoung frowns, ready to tell the driver to go back. He could see the hurt in your face, and it killed him to see you like this. They hated that you were always cooped up in your room on the weekends, complaining about your loud neighbors and watching dramas online, but seeing you hurt is way worse. “We don’t want you to change, love; we just want to show you something new.”

You nod slowly. “Sure,” You say, taking a deep breath. “I need to go to that party, anyways…”

“You do?!” They look at each other incredulously.

“Yeah,” You sigh, closing your eyes and enjoying the cold feeling of the glass window on your forehead. “I need to apologize to someone.”

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

The events that follow were expected. Jinyoung is whisked away by an excited Yugyeom, whom in return receives a slap to the head. Jackson lasts a little longer with you; holding your hand in a comforting way whenever he noticed you were getting too overwhelmed. Mark and Youngjae join you two, surprised and happy with your presence. They’ve been doing this for so long, you think. And I never knew. Your friends never talked about parties with you, and you never wondered why until today.

“We never wanted to make you uncomfortable,” Youngjae explains once you ask. “We party a lot, to be honest, and we always wanted you to come, but you made it very clear you hate things like this so…”

Your face falls at that. They always stayed in whenever you asked, and you never even gave them the chance to ask you to come out. You felt like the worst friend in the world.

“I’m sorry,” You say and his eyes go wide. “Next time I promise I’ll come with. I want to have fun with you guys, too.”

“Ya, seriously?” Youngjae smiles wide, surprised. “You can’t take it back!”

“I won’t!” You promise, laughing with your friend. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bad friend, Youngjae.”

“You were never a bad friend, Y/N,” He smiles. “We understand. Movie nights are fun in a different way; they are comfortable and cozy, and if that’s what you needed, we were happy to provide. But sometimes you need some excitement, and that’s what parties are for… we didn’t want to pressure you, so we never said anything. We just waited until you were ready– and I guess you are now.”

You nod, hugging him tight, before wandering off alone, in search of the person you went there to see. You end up in the kitchen, and you think that maybe fetching yourself a beer won’t hurt too much.

“Here,” You hear someone say from behind you, and your cheeks brighten once you realize you were noticeably lost. “You’re looking for beer, right?”

“Ah,” You turn around and smile. “Yes. Thanks, Yugyeom.”

“Didn’t think I’d see you here after what happened in the coffee shop,” He deadpans, and you can feel it once again. The tension. “You know, I always thought you were pretty cool, Y/N. The hyungs talk about you a lot, and I always saw you as this funny person, even though you don’t talk much.”

You don’t say anything. You know exactly where this is going and you allow it; you deserve it.

“I never pegged you as a judgmental person,” He chuckles. “Mainly because everyone judges you. I don’t know, I thought you’d be all that Jackson hyung told me… but I was wrong. I guess we really don’t know you, after all.”

“That’s not fair,” You chuckle. “I get what you’re saying, and I’m sorry. This is what I came here to do; apologize. But what you’re doing is not fair.”

“How so?” He smiles a bit.

“I judged unfairly, and for that I apologize,” You say, voice seeping honesty. “But you’re doing the exact same. I had a reason to react the way I did, the same way BamBam had a reason to react the way he did. You’re taking sides, Yugyeom.” “Well, of course I am,” He shrugs. “BamBam is my best friend.”

You laugh at that– a full blown laugh, with your head back and happy giggles in the end. “That does make sense. I am happy he has someone like you, Yugyeom.”

And with those words, the bright smiled boy you met before was back. “Thanks, Y/N. Now, if you must know, BamBam is in the back porch. Things got a little too much for him in here, so he went there to get some air.”

“Thanks Yugy,” You say and before you can leave, he grabs your hand.

“Once you get sorted out with BamBam,” He chuckles. “Can we be friends? Jackson hyung told me some hilarious stories about you, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now…”

“Of course we can,” You smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”

“Good or bad?” He shouts, surprising you. “Say good, please.”

“Bye Yugyeom!”

Finding the back porch was harder than you thought, but you manage. You see his jacket before you see him, and in your defense, you couldn’t really not see the bedazzled black jacket on the ground. BamBam is right next to it, though, laying down on the wooden floor, and you panic. Is he alright? Did he drink too much? What–

“Whoever you are,” He says, and his voice is nothing but tired. “Either come here, or leave.”

“Oh, sorry,” You mumble, and his head snaps in your direction. “Do you mind chatting for a bit?”

“Why?” He chuckles humorlessly. “So you can tell me all the things I did wrong? I don’t think so, sweetheart, now why don’t you–“

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that before now please–“

“No,” You stand your ground, even though you felt as if your heart was about to beat out of your chest. “I’m really sorry, BamBam. I shouldn’t have believed all of those things people told me; I was stupid and naive. And I shouldn’t have snapped at you back in the coffee shop, but I just thought that–“

“That I was a complete idiot with no purpose in life,” He says harshly. “Sounds about right?”

“Y-Yeah, but–“

“But you realized you were wrong and now you want to apologize so we can be friends.”

“How’d you know?” You ask, voice wavering more than you’d like to admit.

“You’re not the first,” He sighs, frowning. “It seems like there is always a problem with me. And don’t try to deny it– I can see you shaking your head.”

“Well,” You start carefully. “You do come off as a little bit… spoiled.”

BamBam laughs and pats the empty space next to him. Just as you sit down, you hear him talking slowly, as if he, too, needed to process it all.

“People think I’m this billionaire’s son that doesn’t care about anything but my reputation,” He starts. “But they don’t know half of it. I skip class, I party a lot, so that means I don’t care about school, right?”

“I mean–“

“I’m at the top of the Dean’s list with a full scholarship,” BamBam says curtly, his voice as sharp as a knife. “And if I’m not wrong, you are right under me.”

To say that you were surprised was an understatement.

“But how do you carry the scholarship when you are barely even on campus?” You ask.

“Who said that? Because the only time I can recall missing class was last week, when I had a business meeting, and my first semester during Freshman year, when I had to fly home for my brother’s wedding.” As BamBam explained things to you, you couldn’t help but notice his hands, fidgeting with each other; is he nervous?

“The truth is, I’ve noticed you for a while now,” He mumbles with a shy smile, his cheeks blushing, and you swear you’ve never seen such an adorable man before. “People always assume the wrong thing about you, too, so I thought that– I don’t know, I thought that you’d get me. Jackson hyung and Jinyoung hyung always tell me these great things about you, and how you never back down even when you’re struggling and I thought that maybe we could be friends… or something more.”

What?

“But then you’ve never even looked at me,” The sadness you felt from his voice was killing you. “You barely even talked to me, even when you had to talk to everyone for that one field trip… I have to admit, I was kind of hurt. The girl I was crushing on hated my guts, and I didn’t even know why.”

“BamBam,” You gasp, reaching to touch his arm, but he is quick to evade your hand. When his eyes met yours, you swear you were about to break down; the vulnerability, the hurt, the anger. You could see everything. “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” He smiles a tight closed-lip smile and you feel your heart breaking. “I’m tired of stuck up people trying to prove they are better then me. I run my own business, that is, by the way, going really well. I have amazing grades in school. I have friends that I can count as if they were my own family. I don’t need anything else.”

“You might not need it,” You say as he gets up. “But you want it. I know you do.”

“What I want clearly doesn’t matter,” He scoffs, walking to the door. “I’m going inside. You should go soon; I know you hate crowded places.”

You feel a weight on your shoulders, and then he’s gone.

When Jinyoung finds you, about an hour later, you were still crying.

When Jinyoung takes you home, with promises of a better tomorrow, you are still wearing BamBam’s jacket.

And when Jinyoung finally leaves, worried and defeated, you are already asleep, hand clutching the jacket that you refused to leave behind.

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

aaaahhh my first true angst! it felt weird to leave it like that, so I will probably write a part 2! what do you all think? part 2 or nah? Let me know! Love you all and thanks for the endless support <3

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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years

Note

How u think kai will react if he raised his hand during argument&his s/o flinched thinking thst he will hit her? He didn't know but s/o was abused by her*hero*parents for being quircklss&went through inhuman experiments to activate it.They abandoned her in orphan announcing their*precious daughter*died while the truth thy didnt want her 2 bring shame 2 them.Kai discovered that latter bc those info are top hero secrets&she didnt tell him thinking kai will hate her if he found shes hero's daughter

HAHAHA, HOW WOULD KAI REACT?! KAI CHISAKI?! OVERHAUL. REACT TO THIS?!

My god; he would be enraged, completely surrounded by hatred and desire of execution of these two worms considered to be your biological parents.

Discussions between you two were normal; you are a couple, it happens; but even knowing that Kai would never lay a finger to hurt you, you couldn't help but squirm in terror and guard youself with your arms at the moment he raised his hands to only emphasize his point in the argument.

He immediately stopped talking as soon as he saw your scared look; sadly, he knew that expression way too well; and ended the argument right then and there.

Hearing your back story was enough for making his blood boil in a way it never had before but he maintained his composure for your sake.

Now, really, you only increased like, 100x more his hatred for heroes... Congrats.

"They're all sick. This hero syndrome has to be cured, look at what happens when we let those verms in the street... Absolutely disgusting."

Chisaki would become a little more affectionate after this just for ease your nerves. But when he is certain that you're at peace again...

That's when the real show begins...

The hero entered his home completely exausted due to his busy day at the agency as he took off his boots and called for his wife. When he heard no response he went in allert; knowing that she had taken a day off, she must had stayed in home.

He called once again checking every room in his big mansion. When he entered the living room he went rigid when he saw, not his wife, but a man in a green jacket holding one of his extremely expensive cups looking at the window.

Frightening and cold golden eyes; that seemed to pierce his soul; found them qs he finally spoke

"You're late." He spited the words before the hero felt something strongly hit the back of his neck, causing him to pass out immediately.

The man awakened feeling extremely sore as he heard his wife pleading for him to wake up. When he finally got back to reality, he noticed that both of them were chained tightly with their backs against each other.

"W-we were kidnapped dear...!" She whispered in fear "Use your quirk to get us out before the raptors come back, hurry!" She pleaded.

"Alright don't worry, we will be out of here in no time."

Suddenly, a bullet came out of no wear and hitted him straight on his chest, causing the woman to scream if her husband was okay.

"I wouldn't move around too much if I were in your shoes..." spoke a man covered in a plague mask and white hoodie aproaching the trembling couple, never once lowering down his gun.

The man winced in pain before trying to use his quirk to attack the shooter.

Sickes bitch

"W-what?" The man spoke in shook "W-what happened with my quirk?! What ylu did to me your fucker?!"

"Language." Spoke coldly the man before merciless shooting the woman's leg.

The female hero cried in pain letting out a few curses at the stranger.

"For two heroes, both of you are completely useless and disposable, aren't you?" A hushed voice spoke in the shadows of the cold building.

"What do you want from us, damn villain?" Struggled the man in the chains.

The young yakusa boss lifted himself from his place on the dark and slowly walked toward the frightened couple; looking at them with murderous, wide, psychotic eyes; following right after them two mans with also plague masks covering their faces.

Actually now that they notice, there was eight in total... all of them around.

"W-wait a second-!" Said the woman in realization "You're that young leader of Shie Hassaikai! That young yakusa group, his name is Overhaul!" Chisaki didn't seem to even listened the woman, opting to look down in nothing but disgust at the quivering man in front of him.

"Despicable, you and your wife are just disgusting... Not only carry in your veins the hero syndrome but also did something that I can't just let slide..."

"We didn't even once got into the yakusa young man, I swear on all of my career-!"

"Your words are simply equal to trash to me so don't even need to spend your breath." Interrupted the villain, extending his open hand at his side.

A black thing that was on the shoulder of a much taller man gave it to him what seemed like an really old newspaper. When the young leader grabbed, he immediately oppen it on one od the pages, reading out loud.

"'Today, unfortunately, we announce the loss of our beloved, quirkless yet respected only child (Y/N) ... While we were just enjoying the few but precious family moments together, a despicable villain attacked us and took her life during the combat. We, with pure grudge and thirsting for justice, have put the evil factor in behind the bars, but still it does not fill the void that our beloved deceased daughter left us ... rest and peace my sweet (Y/N), we will always have you in our hearts.'" Chisaki read all of what was written in pure rage.

"You two are quite the actors, to have to say that on a jornal." The man wearing a white hoodie spoke coldly.

"Actors?" Laughed nervously the woman "Our daughter died during a villain's fight long ago... She was quirkless, couldn't even protect herse-"

"I don't even need to use my quirk to identify your lies woman." Spoke the man on Overhaul's side "Those are beautiful words but clearly false."

"You really think we are that dUMB YOU PUNks?!" Screamed Mimic in offense.

"What will be your orders boss?" A blond with green shirt spoke in pure sadistic exciment.

Overhaul raised his hand, demanding silence with his gesture, as he messed in his jacket pocket before pulling out a small picture.

He abruptly shoved both of the old newspaper; which had the photo of the supposed deceased child; and a picture that he had took it of you.

"Don't you verms think that these two are a A BIT too similiar?!" He couldn't contain his wrath and shouted at both at them making both heroes flinch in fear.

"Abandoned by you both in a shelter just because they couldn't reach your expectations of being what you two are..." Spoke coldly Chrono aiming his gun close to the womans forehead.

Overhaul gave the paper back to Mimic and right after, saving the photo back in his pocket.

"Usually I don't like dirting my hands, but you two are a real special case..." he started to lower his gloves down.

"Wait a second, please!" Pleaded the man almost tearing up "H-How about a deal? Me and my wife can give you all of our money we earned as heroes! Think about about it!" The woman gave her husband a glare due to his offer.

Greddy woman... despicable. They didn't remind him any of you... thankfully.

"How much you're willing to gave us?" Spoke in interest Mimic.

"Anything really! Just let us go and don't mention about... her to anyone." Chisaki wanted to rip this man's head out of his body at the way your "father" mentioned you.

"Give them all of your credits cards and you passwords. Now." Demanded the quivering man at his wife who hesitantly showed where it was in her purse.

Chrono took all of them, right after giving Kai a silently sign that it was real and he got them right.

"Everyone, except Chrono and Mimic, get out of here and wait outside." Commanded Overhaul which everyman respind with an "yes sir."

Right after Nemoto closed the door, Mimic unchained the couple, but just as them got up to their feet, Kurono headlocked the woman as Chisaki punched the man with all his force, making him hit the floor.

"HON-" Chrono pressed the gun in the women's temple.

"Shut your mouth if you don't want your brain to explode it with this damn bullet."

Overhaul marched his way and grabbed the man's collar shirt staring at him what only could be described as a death glare.

"B-but our deal-!"

"Yo punk, we accepted the money but we didn't say anything about letting you go." Said Mimic checking all of the credit cards while holding a phone.

"You didn't really think I would let go that easy did you?" Groaned Chisaki "After everthing you and your project of a wife did to my angel..."

"Y-your what-" the man couldn't even complete his question when Chisaki merciless touched his forehead and overhauled him on the spot.

The woman screamed in terror. Trying to get out of her captor's hold.

"Don't worry I didn't forget about you... disgusting." Overhaul muttered as he rubbed his hand.

"MONSTER! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" the woman shouted not even caring about the gun glued to the side of her head anymore.

"You really are just as dumb as your husband here. I will bring him back, his punishment isn't over..." he looked at her with threatening eyes "Monster huh? Look at both of you, damn hypocrites... Listen closely." He approached the woman who trembles in fear and hate at the villain.

"For every moment of pain; physically and emotionally; for every single tear that escaped from my angel's eyes due to your actions... I will kill; torture even; you both and bring you back over and over again until I am deeply satisfied..." the woman started to sobbing in fear as she pleaded for forgiveness and beged for let them go.

"Isn't it glorius? Feeling completely vulnerable, useless and totally submissive at the power at someone else's hands? I am not the person who you should be begging for forgiveness, but I guess you let that chance slip years ago, didn't you? What a great mother..." he spoke in pure sadistic sarcasm.

In a quick move Chisaki comanded that Chrono let go of the woman, making her hit the cold ground. And just before her eyes could've had catch it, he touched her face with all of his hand and overhauled her.

"Despicable creatures..." mumbled Chisaki as he saw the mess on the ground. He made his way to your once father when Chrono called his attention holding his cellphone for Kai to see.

"It's (Y/N), she's asking how are you doing and if we will take too long to come back. What should I respond?"

"Hey Overhaul? Isn't tommorow or after the day when you meet her or something?"Asked Mimic pointed one of the many credit cards at his boss. Subconsciously giving the young villain an idea.

"Tell her is going to take a little more than we expected, my job here isn't totally complete... But tell that I have a surprise for her so just be patient." Chrono nodded as Mimic snickered.

"Getting lucky with your partner Overhaul?"

"Shut your mouth Mimic."

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha character x reader #bnha villains x reader #bnha #bnha imagine scenario #bnha characters #bnha villains #overhaul #chisaki kai #I LOVED WRITING THIS #my writing #zuffer writings

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hopeless-ro-simptic · 4 years

Text

The Death of A Demon - Pt 3

I swear I am working on my other fics and stuff, but I already have like 20 parts written for this and I just wanna keep posting it since it’s my baby. Sorry if you don’t like OC fics.

Warnings: Anxiety, thoughts of self harm/suicide, threats, not much to warn for this chapter.

Word Count: 2.6 k

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Back to current day

It was barely a day later. Feral had seen it on the news, the devilish hero that came all the way from Spain in the hero exchange program. The way that all of the girls fawned over him as he smiled and waved to the crowds gathered outside the gated airport. She had recognized his dark features immediately, hair pushed back from his chiseled face, a light scruffy dusting of facial hair accentuating everything he wanted. He was wearing a business suit when he had landed at the private airport that the big named hero’s tended to use, but even without his costume, she knew exactly who he was. The number 1 hero in Spain, Diablo, had come to Japan under the guise that he was working with the Hero’s commission to help locate and stop the League of Villains. Feral knew better though, she knew what, or rather who, he was really here for.

To bring her home.

After years of being on the run, constantly watching over her shoulder, making sure to stay out of the media and to avoid anything whatsoever that could get her caught, Feral had finally made a mistake. She had finally shown up on Diablo’s radar.

He had been immediately caught up in a press conference, smiling his perfect white teeth to the camera, canines bigger than a normal person’s which Feral knew only made him that much more popular with the ladies, talking about the goals for this hero exchange and what he could bring to the table in tracking down and dealing with the league.

“What would you say to the villain Shigaraki Tomura if he was watching this right now?” One of the reporters asked. She looked absolutely enamored with him, looked like she was going to start squealing like a school girl any minute. Especially when he turned his full attention to her and gave her a very obvious once over. Feral was pretty sure the reporter blushed.

Red eyes slid over from the reporter’s face, looking directly into the camera, staring into Feral’s soul as she watched. His oh so charming smile hiding the truth behind it. Hiding just how ruthless this so called ‘hero’ really was.

“I’d tell them that: no matter where they hide, no matter where they go, I will find them.”

Her bags were already packed. She had already triple counted her money she had plenty of it to get her out of the country, to start over. As much as she hated the idea of leaving the one place that was finally starting to feel like home, she couldn’t stay here. He would fine tooth comb the entire country until he found her. He would stop at nothing.

“Is there anything you are going to miss about Spain while you are here?”

Feral could here the background noise of the TV as she double checked everything that she had. She needed to make sure there was no trace of her left behind. Nothing.

“… Barcelona is beautiful this time of year.”

Feral’s hands were shaking, her heartbeat too loud as she turned and stared back into the cheeky smile on the camera. Her mind racing with memories from too long ago, of a mission where they had effectively turned their beloved city into a cage, impossible for anyone to escape. In one fell swoop he had cut off all routes of escape. Of course he had. Feral was stupid to think that he wouldn’t have a plan in place to stop her from running. There was almost no way that she was getting out of the country now. Not without making a very obvious scene. Not without him being able to track her down to her next location just as easily.

She needed a backup. She needed some kind of protection. Something to get rid of him. To keep him off her trail.

Someone.

Fumbling with her phone she pulled up the message from just the day before that she had long forgotten. Looking at the pictures and back at the TV a plan forming in her mind. He was officially brought here to help with the league. Meaning that the Japanese government is fully expecting him to work on it and show results of some sort. Meaning that the league has to now deal with a new Hero that they most likely no nothing about. A Hero that they would want to get rid of just as much as she does.

As much as she really didn’t want to, they were her best chance, and she was theirs.

She just had to track them down, but that was the easy part. She tore through her bags, landing on a particular item, one that she probably should have thrown away years ago but she was just too attached to get rid of. She pulled it out and looked at the torn-up leather jacket, the one that was singed in multiple places, ripped in others and just plain worn out all around.

Everyone has a particular scent, one that is completely and 100% unique to them, and they leave it on basically everything they touch, though it fades significantly over time. The good news is that Feral had a pretty recent run in with a particular fire user, one that had pinned her up against a wall in his most recent attempt to kill her, only for her to easily over power him in strength, his flames not getting hot enough before she could get away.

She had been too tired to wash her jacket afterwards which meant that it still reeked with his scent. While Feral had a decent sense of smell normally, it got even better when she shifted, to the point of a dogs. As long as she got somewhere close to where Dabi has been in the last few days, she could pick up a trail and track him down.

----

She had been right in her assumptions. Dabi was shockingly easy to find. Everyone had habits. Things they go back to again and again. Dabi’s happened to be a liquor store in the wrong kind of neighborhood. One that wasn’t going to turn him in any time soon even if they did recognize him through his rather weak disguise. When was the boy going to learn that a turtle neck, a mask and a hoodie was not the most inconspicuous way to walk around when your on the countries most wanted list. Still the workers at the liquor store had turned a blind eye to the shady things that happened around them for years. Feral would know. It was the same liquor store that she shopped at.

Right next to the alley way that he had tried to kill her in last week.

Funny how they both just kept coming back.

As soon as she picked up his scent she tracked it back, weaving in and out of alley ways and halfway across the slums of the city, to what seemed to be a condemned bar. There were several other scents coming and going from the area, all of them seeming to be pretty recent. Feral recognized this must be the leagues current hideout and decided the best course of action.

She can’t just walk in there. At least not with Dabi there, she would need to wait until he at least left and then sneak in. He would just alert the others and they might be less inclined to agree to an alliance if one of their members is so against it. Feral wasn’t 100% sure about how their group worked, but she knew Dabi was considered an important member. One that probably had a lot of sway in the group.

If she could get the leader, Shigaraki Tomura, to agree with her, to understand that she would be valuable to them, she was pretty sure Dabi would have to fall in line and play nice. At least until this was all done.

So she waited. And waited. And waited. For what felt like days, when in reality was only several hours. She had watched a small blonde girl skip into the building, double checking that no one was watching her (she clearly did a bad job) before sliding through the door. She had even watched as another blonde, a tall male with what seemed to have some kind of scarring on his forehead peak his head out of the second story window that seemed to have previously been boarded up with a cigarette between his fingers as he chatted away on the phone. Unbeknownst of the brunette two stories below him keeping a watchful eye on the building. Feral couldn’t help but wonder if she was trusting the right people.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, well into the darkness of the night, Dabi stepped out onto the street. A lit cigarette between his lips, his hood pulled over his face. He barely glanced around before shambling off down the street, away from the building. Feral watched as he turned a corner three blocks down before she finally moved.

She had barely taken a step out from her hiding spot when the world disappeared from under her.

----

It felt like a weird dream, one moment she was outside, the next she was frozen in time and space, floating in a sea of blue glass, unable to move, until finally, she was breathing fresh air again, only this time standing in the middle of what seemed to be a dimly lit bar, surrounded by some of Japan’s most wanted.

All of them looking more than ready to kill her. Shame that most of them can’t. Most of them.

Her eyes stayed focused on the on in charge. The blue-haired villain standing directly in front of her, a wide smile on his face, which was mostly covered by a severed hand. She couldn’t help but glance down at his hands, hands that wore no gloves, a smile spreading across her own face.

Maybe she should just have him kill her. End it all right here. Wouldn’t that be nice?

“I know you. You’re that werewolf quirk that was on the news.” The petite blonde leaning against the wall next to the door blocking the escape was the first to speak, her eyes widening in what seemed like glee. Feral recognized her from the wanted signs. Toga Himiko

She was still partially shifted, her red eyes glowing for anther moment before she let her body relax, it shifting back into her normal state, a hint of interest in Shigaraki’s face.

She stayed quiet, not sure just how much information she was willing to give them just yet. It seemed a least someone in here had a brain, as Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed onto the collar around her neck, his eyes trailing down the chain that disappeared about a foot down, ghosting away occasionally swinging back and forth just slightly like something was moving it, tugging it.

“That’s not your quirk. Werewolf. It’s something more than that isn’t it.” The mist villain known as Kurogiri was standing behind the bar, polishing a glass casually seemed to mimic Shigaraki’s thoughts, the leader grunting in agreement.

Glancing around Feral meet the eyes of the others in the room, gauging them as she did. There was the man in the black and grey full body suit, a mask pull firmly around his head, he was sitting at the bar. Known as Twice. His quirk was multiplication of some sort. She didn’t understand the logistics but it seemed simple enough.

“What are you looking at? Wanna go freakshow?” Crazy, but a strong ally.

Feral ignored his comment, her eyes flicking to the lizard man in the room who was leaning with his back to the bar behind Shigaraki looking pissed off. Spinner. She was pretty sure he was a Stain fanatic. There wasn’t much information on him from what she had seen, other than he seemed to be able to do things that lizards could do. He was an unknown.

Lastly her eyes slid up to the masked magician standing at her side, his grip loose on her left shoulder, seemingly innocent but she knew better. Mr. Compress. The one with the condensing quirk that turned objects and people into marbles. The one that snuck up on her. He was powerful. A good ally to have, a terrible foe. She had seen how he used his quirk in shaky out of focus videos. A complete mastery of it from what it seemed like.

She couldn’t help but flash him a smile before her eyes focused back on Shigaraki who was still waiting for an answer.

“My quirk is known as Hellhound. A little different than werewolf but they had the right idea.”

“And what are you doing here, Hellhound?”

“I want to join up. Form an alliance. I have something you need and I could use the extra… hands.” Twice snorted at her little joke, Shigaraki’s face turning into a frown, looking like a bratty child.

“And what is it that you think we need so badly as to trust you?”

“Information, on the new hero that has shown up on your doorstop. Diablo. He will hunt you down. He’s rather good at it actually. His quirk is Devil, which sounds simple, sure, but it goes much deeper than you think. And he has friends. Very. Problematic. Friends.” She enunciated the last few words. Her eyes drilling into Shirataki’s as he watched her skeptically.

She would tell him almost anything he wanted to know. As long as it meant they helped her.

“Go on.”

“His quirk almost gives him invulnerability. He’s going to be very hard to kill. Actually pretty sure, you are one of the few people that can kill him. Not to mention he’s strong. Not All Might strong, but he could easily break every bone in your body. He’s faster than your average hero. He’s just an overall powerhouse really. But what you should be most concerned about is his… friend. He’s got someone on his side that rivals All Might in both speed and strength. Someone not unlike your precious Nomu’s. Someone who will kill without hesitation. Though if we play our cards right you won’t ever have to meet them.”

“Why would they kill us? Heroes don’t kill, they put us in prison. It’s why they are so weak. Is it different in Spain?” Toga had been all but scoffing at the idea.

“Legally speaking, no, but the Spanish government is in cahoots with Diablo. They have basically given his free reign to use his friend to deal with problems to big for a simple prison cell. I’m pretty sure the league counts as one of those problems.”

“But he is in Japan. He has to work under Japanese laws.” Twice was the one to jump in this time.

“If you think that for one second he care’s about your laws, you are vastly mistaken. He’s a Hero. But I never said he was a good person.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait. How do you know all of this? Who are you? He didn’t show up until you were on the news.” Spinner narrowed accusing eyes at the athletic female.

Feral rolled her eyes. Time for the 20 questions games about her life. This wasn’t going to be fun. She once again had the thought run through her head, that it would be much faster to just kill her. Get it over with.

“Because, He’s my brother.”

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otterbeesfanficblog · 4 years

Text

When neutron stars collide

(Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

A/n: I just want to say out right that sometimes while writing I get carried away, and also I don’t really stop to look for mistakes because... I’m lazy? I also don’t have a scheduled time for writing this stuff, I just write when the feeling comes and goes so... sorry if you hate waiting ^^; And you know what I just noticed while writing this Authors note? Bakugo’s name is still wrong in the title but I’m not changing it bc I don’t care at this point. I’m stupid and I know it.

Part 5: You Would Be Angry Too...

Part 1: Steps Before The Starting Line Part 2: When A Star Chooses To Shine Part 3: Compare And Contrast Part 4: From Where We Stand

"We're not so sure, she's still so... quiet. No one will want her like this and our numbers will go down." One of the employee's states, unknowing of the small ears listening around the corner.

The woman he was talking to sighs, nodding her head to agree with him.

"I can't find anything she's actually interested in, whenever I see her slightly liking something and I encourage her to continue, she throws it out and goes into a silent protest."

The man sighs and rolls his eyes.

"You'd think she's dead in the head at this point, no families going to take in some retarded kid willingly."

"Tsukami!" The woman says in a scolding tone. "Don't say that she's just a 5-year-old girl--"

"A 5-year-old girl who has no quirk or personality, she might as well be a doll we put on a shelf."

Having heard enough slander from her so-called 'caretakers', Y/n took it upon herself to take the little number of clothes she had in small, tattered backpack and leaves.

She couldn't find it in herself to feel sad, or angry. She felt empty and didn't know what to feel, walking down the streets and looking at the world from a new perspective.

She liked this, being able to see the world.

"I wish I had a family to do this with..." She stopped next to an alleyway, saying this out loud and looking down to the ground.

"Oh, but maybe you can."

Startled, Y/n stumbled away from the alley were the voice came from, and looking in she saw a tall man. Despite the man being so close, she couldn't at all remember his face.

Tall, suit... large mask?

She couldn't remember.

The scene quickly changed, one of which she was hiding inside a tipped over dumpster, crying while trying to be silent. She knew never to trust a stranger, and that man... he didn't hurt her or show any signs of doing so... but in her heart, she knew something was wrong with him.

"Do not be afraid, Young one. I am here to help."

She'd heard his voice many times from the TV stationed in the 'caretakers' break room, but seeing him up close made so much sense as to why so many people loved him.

"B-but... the bad men--"

Before the tall suited man could take her, an explosion happened a few buildings away from where she stood. A group of villains were thrifting and stealing as much as possible before authorities arrived.

One of them saw her, saying that he would make an example out of her despite his group telling him not to wasted time on a kid.

When he picked her up, she felt as if there was a bubble in her chest ready to burst, and when he gave her a sickening grin, the bubble burst.

She didn't really remember much of what happened, only hearing the man and a few other close villains scream in pain, and she was dropped and there were stars in the air around her.

Then she found herself running into alley where she found a small gap between the buildings and rushed in, see and hiding in a tipped over dumpster, not knowing what else to do when the all famous All Might showed up.

"They won't get you," All Might said, showing her a smile that she didn't know she would learn to hate, at that time it treasures her.

There was another explosion heard, and All Might quickly turned his head to the sound, only looking back at Y/n when she whimpered. Her hands covered her ears and she shook afraid of what was to come.

"You must stay here, Young one, it is the safest place for now." All Might knew that if he tried to take Y/n to a safe place a few things could go wrong.

She could get even more scared and lose control of her quirk again, she could be spotted by the villains and they would be relentless in getting her, the villains could get away while he tried to find a safe place for her.

His hands were tied, and as much as he hated the idea of leaving her here alone, the space between the buildings was hard to find. It was small, quiet, and you wouldn't know it was here unless you were looking for it.

"Stay... Here?" Y/n questioned softly, not liking the idea of staying where she was. It was cold and when she had the lid closed it was dark.

Looking into her eyes, All Might kneeled in front of her and place a hand over his heart.

"You must stay here, and I promise I will come back."

"You promise to come back? Promise to come back and keep me safe?"

All Might gave a solid nod.

"I promise."

-----

You're eyes flutter open and you groan at the reoccurring dream.

"What a bullshit promise..."

Pushing up the bin lid, you squint your eyes at the incoming sunlight and yawn, rubbing your eyes. You flinch as a creaky noise comes from your throat and your stomach, which in turn makes you place a hand over your stomach and crawl around the side of the bin and look to your food pile.

Or, lack thereof.

"Shit... Riji always helps me get food..."

You stand and stretch out your back, sighing when it lets out a satisfying pop.

"But, I haven't seen him for a week..."

Looking up out of the little hole through your makeshift roof, you let your mind go blank as you look at the relatively blue sky.

You knew Riji had a life of his own, you weren't really sure what that entailed but now that you had school you wouldn't really know. You saw him when you got back after the first day of school from the talk with Bakugo, but you hadn't seen him at all after that.

Speaking of Bakugo, you were shocked when he came to you with an answer the next day. He completely took the reigns and told you what to do like you were a dog, and you bit back at him every so often but otherwise he was helping you. You two normally talked and studied in your free time in school, he hadn't at all talked to you about outside of school study lessons.

Well, that was until a couple of days ago.

You were almost given a heart attack when he told you that you were coming over to his house, and he said it without hesitation and no room for argument. He gave you the address and time, but you told him you weren't familiar with the streets and such so you wouldn't be able to find it.

Which was true to an extent, you didn't really understand how house addresses worked, you did however know how government-owned buildings worked.

Of course, this made him lash out and call you dumb, which you told him was fair. You asked him if he knew where the local library was, stating that you visit and get books from there all the time. He made a comment about how if you loved books so much that you often hung out at the library, why the hell did you ask him to study with you.

You explained again that it wasn't just studying that you were doing with him, it was training and talking over ways to improve both of your similar quirks.

He kept the time the same, yelling at you to not be late as he would meet you there. If you were late he said he would just leave and you can forget about going to his house, which deep down made you nervous.

You can't remember the last time you were actually inside a proper house, you've squatted in houses for sale a few times before, but all those houses were stripped of anything considered homely.

You were actually pretty excited to see his home, you wondered if his home matched his personality, if so, you had to prepare yourself not to laugh.

Today was the day you would go to his house actually, so switching into the somewhat clean clothes given to you a while back by Riji, you ventured out of your home and onto the sidewalks with a brisk pace. Looking into store windows, you searched for any visible clocks to tell you what time it actually was.

Looking in the window of a clothing store, you say a clock on the far wall. You squint to see it, not really seeing the numbers but seeing the hands well enough.

Bakugo told you to meet him at the library at 11:30 am, you saw the big hand positioned slightly to the left of the top, while the smaller was a little past the where you think the 3 on a clock would be making somewhat of an obtuse angle.

Looking down at your hands you invasion a clock up close, moving your hands to the positions where the clock hands were in the store.

It took you a moment, but once you thought you hade it, your eyes went wide and you went to the store door. You ripped it open quickly, apologizing to the store clerk as you stared with wide eyes at the clock.

"Shit!! He's gonna kill me!!"

You speed out of the store, unknowingly leaving a trail of stardust behind.

It was 11:24, you literally had 6 minutes to get to him before he would have even more reason to beat your ass than he already did.

You hadn't really thought you would sleep in like that, you were going to have to finally get rid of that piece of junk next to your dumpster you so dumbly liked to call an alarm clock. Which, in fairness, it was.

Emphasis on was, you found it in the trash for a reason.

You were breathing heavily as you weaved through people on the street, quickly apologizing to anyone you bumped on your way. You knew the way to the library well enough so you made a B line for it, using your quirk to make you go faster.

People stared as you rushed past them at such a quick speed they barely saw you, but they also stared in awe at the trail of stardust you were leaving behind.

You were there quicker than you expected, but apparently not quick enough as you saw a familiar head of ash blonde hair walking away from the library.

"Bakugo, wait!"

You called out, you didn't stop running at him to catch up. Said boy stopped walking and glanced back at you, and with no time to react at all his eyes went wide as you hit his chest full force, sending you both to the ground harshly.

He to the brunt of it, the air gets knocked out of his lungs as he groaned. You laid on his chest breathing heavily, calming down slightly at the sweet smell of his clothing. Sitting up and practically straddling him, your chest still heaving as you looked down on him with a tired smile.

"I made it!"

It took him a moment to focus himself again, but once he did you were leaning back on his lap as he held you by the front of your shirt, glaring at you with slightly pink cheeks. You thought it was because you hit him to the ground too hard that the blood rushed to his head, but actually he hated how much he liked your warm skin.

"WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM, YOU IDIOT?! FIRST YOU SHOW UP LATE, THEN YOU TACKLE ME TO THE GROUND LIKE SOME RABID DOG!!!"

You grab ahold of his wrists and look at him with frowned brows.

"Oh, come on! I wasn't that late! And besides, I couldn't slow myself down!"

"It didn't look like you even tried to!" He yelled in your face.

"That's not the point!" You counter.

He lets go of you, letting you fully drop to your back on the ground as he shoves the rest of your body off him, dusting himself off aggressively. Though, thinking about it, what didn't this boy do aggressively?

"Dumbass! I was already regretting this, but now I don't think I want to even do this anymore."

You get up quickly and roll your eyes at him.

"Oh, please. You're the one who set this up."

"Because you're dumbass is still weak as shit!" He then quickly turned around and started stomping his away down the sidewalk, you were quick to follow behind.

"So..." You break the silence, looking at him as you both walked side by side. "What are we doing today?"

"Training." He said in a brash tone, but you just smiled.

"Finally, I thought it was gonna be all books with you."

He glares your way, yelling as he always did.

"Shut up! You're fighting style is weak as shit and you're out of shape!"

You roll your eyes and look at him from the corner of your eye with a sly smirk, slowly bringing up a hand to cover your mouth slightly.

"Oh? Last I remember you were too busy with that childhood dick measuring contest to see anything from me."

You could practically see steam leaving his mouth as he towered over you, yelling in your face but it only made you smile. You didn't really know when it happened, but you realized teasing him was very fun.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU SHIT STAR GIRL!!"

"Speaking of that fight," You ignore him. "what is with you two anyway? I can see why he's kinda scared of you, but I can also see why he pisses you off." You glare off to the side just thinking about Midoriya. "He's on my shit list, but I just wanna know your side of the story."

He clicks his tongue in irritation and looks forward.

"Mind your own damn business."

"Awe, come on!" You whine childishly, grabbing at the base of his black shirt and tugging a bit. "I'll tell you something personal about me if you tell me."

"I don't give a fuck about your personal business," He growls, grabbing the wrist that was on his shirt and pushing you off. "it's called staying in my lane, you should try it sometime."

You huff in annoyance, but you had a feeling his side of the story would be hard to hear from to begin with. So, taken to what he said, you walked quietly beside him which surprised him for a while.

It didn't take more than 20-25 minutes to get to his house, but once you were there you felt all ounces of confidence leave you.

"I-It's....h-how... WHY IS YOUR HOUSE SO HUGE?!"

Bakugo flinched at you turning at yelling at him, his face flushing a bit in embarrassment though he wasn't sure why. You stared at him with shock and slight awe, you (literally) practically had stars in your eyes you looked up at him.

"Are you actually some kind of rich kid?!"

"Huh?!?!!" He glares at you and yells in your face. "I'm not rich!!"

"But, your house!!"

"It's average, idiot!"

He growls and stomps his way up to the front door, and you feel your heart sink to the floor. You would have to pretend that you lived in a house like his too, that all of this was normal.

That having a real door to a real house, that you personally owned, and having all the real things that came with this house was normal...

You watched as he unlocked the door with a key he pulled from his pocket, your brows frowning as you looked down at yourself. Baggy shirt, somewhat baggy shorts, ripped up shoes that actually look like trash... which all of what you had was...

Would he not like you if he found out? Bakugo didn't really seem the type to discriminate amongst class or really anything for that matter, he took on everything the same, something he can beat. But... he also looks and acts like the type of person who hates liars...

"Oi!"

You flinch, raising your head to see Bakugo glaring at you from halfway inside his door.

"Are you coming in or what? I'm not standing here all day while you weirdly gawk at my house."

Take a deep breath in, you give a strained and awkward smile.

"I-I'm coming."

Walking in past him, he closed the door behind you. Because you were so tense, you almost jumped out of your skin when Bakugo yelled from behind you at a volume you didn't expect.

"I'M BACK!"

You slightly glare back at him for yelling, your heart beating quickly in your now pulsing ears. All he gave you back was a glare and a shrug.

"My house." He muttered, and you rolled your eyes, but then jumped out of your skin again as someone else yelled.

"YOUR HOUSE MY ASS, KATSUKI!!"

Bakugo went stiff at the voice, you turned back to face whoever yelled.

It was a very young attractive looking woman who seemed to bare the same ash blond explosive hair as Bakugo. She also shared his pricing red eyes which glared daggers into the boy behind you but quickly turned soft and gentle as her glance turned to you.

It was all silent for a moment as she stared at you with a smile, then her face flushed red and quickly came up to you, cupping your face in her hands and squishing your cheeks together.

"Ah! You're so beautiful! Your skin is practically glowing! And your eyes shine like stars!"

Her smile disappeared as she glared at Bakugo who had moved from behind you to beside you, glaring at his... mother?

"You didn't tell me you were bringing a girl over!! You haven't even done your chores yet!"

Bakugo's face flushed as his glare hardened, all while your face was still cupped within his mother's very soft and warm hands... which you weren't complaining about at all.

"What the hell does it matter she's a girl!?! And I said I would do them after!!"

"You did not tell me that, and as your mother, I need to know everything about the people you bring to MY house!!"

You felt a chill in your spine as she said this, making your doubt of Bakugo not liking your homeless double.

"Please you two, she only just got here. She must be overwhelmed."

You leaned a little past Bakugo's mother, her hands still cupping your face as you looked behind her. There stood who you could only assume was Bakugo's dad, he had brown hair and eyes and had the same hairstyle as Bakugo and his mother.

Out of all the Bakugo's you've met now, he seemed the only one who knew how to be calm.

Bakugo's mother let go of your face and instead pulled at Bakugo's ear, which he growled at and grabbed her wrist tightly.

"Do your chores!"

"Shut up, hag, I'll do them after!! Now let go!!"

She let go but quickly smacked him over the head.

You didn't really know you had done it, but your back was now pressed up against the door and you started to sweat as they fought.

You'd heard and seen many different family dynamics, living on the streets gave you ample time to people watch. You had seen children fight back at their parents before, mostly just toddlers throwing tantrums though.

You'd also heard the old, and the quite dumb, phrase "respect your elders".

You've cussed out your fair share of authority figures before, that wasn't new. You were, however, shocked that Bakugo would even have the balls to yell at his birth giver like that. Not to say some parents don't deserve a good cuss or two, but ... if his mother was your mother?

... You wouldn't.

"You'll do them now! Now go before I ground your ass and send your girlfriend home, treating you like the brat you are!"

He growled again at her, practically quaking with anger, but he stomped past her to another room, grinding his teeth.

Once he was gone, his mother turned to you with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you, I didn't really expect Katsuki to ever get a girlfriend with his attitude."

Your face flushed out of pure nervousness of saying the wrong thing and getting kicked out.

"U-uh, me and Bakugo... we aren't dating--"

"Damn it!" She sighed out, throwing her head make which made you flinch wondering if she was gonna put you out.

Bakugo's father sighed and walked over, placing his hand on his wife's lower back while giving you an equal to yours nervous smile.

"I'm sorry, this is probably not what you were planing when you came here."

You shook your head and waved your hands.

"O-oh, no, it's okay! I'm just... I've never been to a fancy house like this before... nor have I ever been to my friends' house or met their family."

"Eh?" Bakugo's mother raised a brow at you in confusion as both parents looked at you slightly shocked. "Fancy... house?"

"W-why don't you come to sit in the living room while you wait for Katsuki to finish up?"

You nod and are about to follow him when Bakugo walls back into the hallway with what looked like a vacuum, he glares at you which makes you quickly stop walking.

"Take your damn shoes off, idiot! Are you trying to make my job harder?!"

"Huh??"

You feel the sweat on your face as you look down at the little step in front of the door, you had seen this many times at the houses you squatted in. There was always a little step in the doorway, but since the houses were always empty you always thought it was a design thing.

It wasn't until you got to U.A. that you suddenly realized all the social etiquette you never learned because, well, you didn't have a home or parents to teach you these things.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you realized that your shoes may look like the trash they were, but you also weren't wearing any socks.

"U-Uhm... I... I don't have any socks on..." You look up through your lashes at the Bakugo family, almost feeling ashamed of your meet assistance in front of them.

"What the hell is--" Bakugo was quickly cut off by his mother.

"Katsuki! Chores!!" Bakugo shrugged and glared at his mother, pointing at your feet.

"She--"

"Now!!" She cut him off again, pointing down the hall. He let out a long sigh and stomped his way out of the hallway and into a different room.

"It's fine, eh... oh," Bakugo's father looked at you in surprise, you looked at him curiously. "We... don't know your name."

"Oh," You give them an awkward smile after toeing off your shoes at the entrance bowing to them as a silent apology for the lack of respectfulness for social etiquette.

"My name is Uchukyuzo Y/n, but you can call me Y/n... feels more... natural...?"

Bakugo's father nodded at you with a gentle smile, Bakugo's mother was quiet but also gave you a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n." His father spoke. "follow me."

"I'll get some water for ya, sweetie." Bakugo's mother said, patting your shoulder and disappearing into what you assumed was the kitchen.

You heard the vacuum Bakugo had startup as you shyly sat down on the couch with its back to a wall, Bakugo's father sat across from you and smiled at you with closed eyes and a gentle look.

"It really is nice to meet you, Y/n. Bakugo often mutters about your when he's home, always talking about what you two were to do next together."

"Yes," Bakugo's mother came in with stacked cups and a pitcher of water, setting it down on the small table in front of you and pouring you some water as she continued. "You can only imagine our surprise to know that he was tutoring someone."

You felt yourself flush a little, bowing your head, and quietly thanking her as you stiffly took the glass of water and took sips.

"It's... not really tutoring, at least... I don't think. Bakugo and I have... sort of similar quirks, so, I approached him about maybe partnering up and learning from each other."

Bakugo's mother sat down next to her husband, leaning back comfortably on the couch as she smirked at you in a mischievous way.

"Similar quirks, huh?"

You nod, placing the cup back down on the table. Luckily for you, the crash you had with Bakugo stored up a lot of energy that you could give an example.

Lifting your hands, you cupped them into a small ball shape, allowing the energy to build up in the small pocket in your hands. Then you pulled your hands flat, one high and one just below, allowing the energy to release in a bright burst of light.

Since it was a small, contained explosion, the flash of light was like the flash of a camera. What was left was the colorful and sparkling glow of the energy that was left behind, your hands were warm as the star-like sparkles fell around your hands.

"I can store energy in my body and release it like an exploding star, taking in and putting pressure on the energy, then releasing it in a bust of light that tends to leave trails of light behind."

You look back up at the parents, they started at you with impressed expressions and you shyly scratch at the back of your head.

"A-and since Bakugo can make explosions as well, I thought I could benefit from learning from him and that... he could learn something from me?"

"Oh please," His mother grins at you. "He may act like it, but he's far from perfect."

"Eh? I-I know that..." You reply looking down at your hands in your lap, clenching and unflinching them while looking at your palms. "I admire his drive, in a lot of ways, he and I are the same."

"You seem to be as good as, if not better, than Katsuki." Bakugo's mother cut in, getting you to look at her as both parents look on at you.

"Oh, I don't really want to be better than anyone..." You look around the room you were in.

Bookshelves filled with books, a few potted plants, from where you were sitting you could just barely seen a nice looking kitchen. It was no secret this house was beautiful, something you never really lived in before.

You smiled sadly around the room.

"You know... I've always wanted to live in a house."

"Eh?!" You flinch and look to Bakugo's parents, who both equally looked horrified at what you said. You panic and shake your head, waving your hands about.

"I mean! I mean live in a house like this! It's nice a-and big! Bakugo told me there's a backyard too! I, uh, I... don't have those..."

You grin sheepishly, looking down at your feet that curled an unfurled.

"I'm sorry if I'm being rude... I..." You look up at the parents.

Bakugo's father looked at you with a sad expression, but and expression it looked like he was trying to fight for your sake. Bakugo's mother held a gentleness that made your resolve start crack more and more.

The little voice in your head started to make your eyes sting and feel glossy.

Tell them, they look like people who could help? Why don't I ever ask for help? Why do I have to do this all on my own? I can tell them. I'm allowed to. I know I am. I'm allowed to feel sad about where I am. I don't always have to be strong.

"I-I..." You felt a lump forming in your throat, your brow starting to twitch and your lips turned down in a frown. Your fists were clenched on your lap.

Were you actually going to finally ask someone for help to get you off the streets and into an actual home? With food and water and clothes and somewhere to bathe, was this it?

"I-I uhm..."

"Y/n," You looked up from your lap and stared at Bakugo's mother, who was looking you dead in the eyes with her own pricing ruby eyes. "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

snap!

You felt a tear run down your face and you felt your eyes go wide, your mouth opening as if you were on auto-piolet.

"... W-what I said before... about not having a.. a home like this... I... I don't have a h-"

"I'M DONE!"

Your shoots down to your lap and you leet out a breath you didn't know you were holding. At the sound of Bakugo's voice, you dropped your head and whipped your eyes quickly, and all heads in the living room turned to where Bakugo was standing with his arms crossed.

He first glared at his mother, then glared over to you, which turned to confusion as he saw your slightly red eyes.

"What the hells up with you?"

"KATSUKI BAKUGO!!" His mother stood and shouted at him in pure anger.

As a kid with present adult figures in your life, you knew the sounds of when you were in trouble and when you were in trouble. Bakugo was surprised to hear her genuine anger, his father was also looking at him with a stern stare.

"What?!" He yelled back, but before she could answer you stand to your feet and waved your hands, putting up a fake smile.

"S-So you're done, does that me we can get started?"

He nodded at you, his parents looking at you with worry.

"Y/n," Bakugo's father spoke softly. "You can stay and talk with-"

"B-Bakugo planned this whole day for us to train, so, wouldn't want that plan to go to waste, right?" You give him a strained smile, leaning down and grabbing the water you had. Downing it in one huge gulp, which hurt your chest by the way, and you quickly walked beside Bakugo.

"S-show me the way... Bakubro!" You faked excitement.

Every part of you now was screaming at you to leave the room and situation, the conversation was not something you wanted to have today.

Why the hell would you even think of telling someone?! Do you know what would happen then? You'd be sent to a foster home, which you already know is worse than where you are now, are you serious!? You're not stupid, Y/n! You didn't go through 10 years of living on the streets alone surviving on being soft to people you just met!!

Your inner voice scolded you plus tenfold, and without really knowing it, you were hiding behind Bakugo, away from the looks of his now frightened parents.

It was silent for a bit, Bakugo not knowing what the hell was going on other than that you looked close to crying and his parents were angry at him for something. Were you snitching on him for being so 'mean' to you? That can't be it, right? You didn't really react badly at all to his attitude.

In fact, it was one of the things he liked about you. You took his shit and sent it back.

So, what had you like this.

"... Can we go now..?"

Your voice was so quiet, Bakugo had never heard you speak so softly, and looking at your slightly upset face, he didn't like it at all.

With a click of his tongue, turned down the hall and walked towards a door in the back.

"Hurry up... idiot."

You didn't say anything back and stuck to his heels like glue, leaving behind two parents who were on the verge of calling the police or child services.

What had you been through to have to keep quiet about it?

-----

What you thought was going to be a simple training section in his backyard, actually turned into a 2-hour long training lesson with him.

You both started out with stretching, luckily for you, Bakugo didn't ask what the conversation was about that you had with his parents. He corrected your form many times, asked if you were even trying or if you knew what stretching was.

Moving on you went to a small work-out session, from running in place to jumping jacks, squats, lunges, all that jazz. He allowed you small breaks every so often, tell you that if you go all out on your first time you'll vomit, and he didn't want to deal with that.

You internally took that as a sign of him caring about you.

Next, you went to hand to hand training with him, which he gave you no mercy on. He downed you so many times that you had grass stains all over your already trash clothes, but he was actually teaching you along the way.

With your size, he thought you how to use that to your advantage. He got him down a couple of times with his help, but any victory you had over him was lost quickly as he told you a fight doesn't just stop when you have him on the ground.

After those two hours, he now has you both back at some ending work out stuff.

Both you and he were on your elbows and toes at the moment, facing each other while planking. Both of you were covered in sweat which fell from your face every so often, he was actually smart in switching his clothes before. He changed when he was doing chores as he was in a black tank top and loose shorts.

You were to hold the plank for a minute, then break, then go to your side, break, then your other side, break then repeat.

You were heaving at this point but you weren't upset about it, in fact, you were quite thankful for the tired feeling falling over you. Not only would this benefit you in the long run, but also, you wouldn't have to stay awake thinking all night.

"Break."

You look up from your plank at Bakugo who was now on his knees.

"Huh?" You still held your plank, your stomach and legs shaking a small bit.

He growled and leaned over, smacking you on the head which made you fall face-first to the ground.

"I said break, idiot!"

You let out a sigh and slightly snuggle into the ground, then you hold your top half up on your elbows and look at Bakugo.

"Thanks for this Bakubro." You wink and send him finger guns, which he rolls his eyes and mutters a curse.

"Shut up."

You laugh a little and roll onto your back with a sigh, looking at the slightly less bright sky.

"Now that we have had a training montage together," You throw your head back to look at him upside down while still laying in the grass. "have I unlocked your character backstory yet?"

"The hell are you talking about?" Bakugo growled, now sitting down with one leg crossed and the other straight out, which happened to be right next to your right side as he leaned back on his hands.

You laughed and looked back at the sky.

"Come on, you know. I want to know why you have so much beef with broccoli boy, it can't really be a secret since he likes to tell his sob story all the time."

You rolled back over, placing your hand over Bakugo's leg, making it so you were leaning it like a pillow as you looked up at him.

"No kidding, I saw him crying, like, two days ago about something. I didn't because I'm still mad at him, and also people trying in public make me uncomfy." You point and place your cheek on his leg.

He shakes you off his leg, his cheeks a little pink at your closeness to him, and he rolls his eyes.

"You're fucking weird."

"Watch your fuckin' language." You playfully growl at him, pushing your self up into a normal sitting position across from him, crossing one leg over the other as you stare at him. "But seriously, why the rivalry?"

"Why the hell are you so interested, anyway?" He crossed his arms and glared at you. "Do you really have nothing better to do then encroach on other people's business?"

You pretend to think really hard on it, then innocently shake your head like a child, smiling at him expectingly.

It was silent as you both stared at each other for legit 3 minutes.

"Ugh, fine!" He growls, throwing his arms out and glaring off, making no attempts to look at you. "That damn nerd used to be a fuckin' nobody! Just some lowly nerd in the back of the class with nothing special about him, not even a quirk! Then, all of a sudden, he gets a quirk and doesn't even have the guts to use it on me!! Like, he thinks I can't take it! Like I'm weak!"

You listen to his words carefully, knowing you just got him to open up about something that looks like he would never tell anyone.

"I'm third in the class! That damn nerd is getting all the praise! Even one on one with fuckin' All Might himself!!" He starts yelling now, glaring at the ground below him. "Now he thinks he can tell me that he suddenly got his quirk from someone!? He thinks I'm royalty stupid to fall for that!"

"So that's what it's about..." You mutter softly, not meaning for him to hear but not really upset that he did when his head snapped up to you.

"Huh?!"

"Your expectations... the world's expectations, I know how it feels to want to be above it all."

He glares at you, and for once this whole day, you weren't afraid of if your words upset him and he kicked you out. You wanted him to know you're driven too.

"I asked you to train me because it's not just our quirks that are the same, you want to go above and beyond what people and yourself think you can do. I do too. I'm starting from the bottom, Bakugo," You laugh bitterly, scratching the back of your neck as you look at the ground. "literally the bottom. You're starting somewhere unfamiliar... Must be tough, huh?"

He glares harder then grabs the front of your shirt pulling you closer to his face, his breath hitting yours as he growls at you.

"Are you making fun of me?!"

"Not at all," You lean forward to making yourself a little more comfortable in his hold. "I'm acknowledging how much pressure you have put on you and how much you're putting on yourself. It's like looking in a mirror."

"I'm not weak!" He shouts, you place your hands on his thighs and push yourself up. He still held tight to your shirt, but now you were eye level with him.

"I never said you were, that's why I like you. You may be an asshole, but you're still a good guy, Bakugo... You know that, right?"

He throws you off him to the side, standing quickly and brushing himself off. You laid on your side look up at him, first with a slight sternness then with a smile.

"You talk weak," He says, his back turned to you. You stand and brush yourself off, walking to his side and looking up at him.

"Maybe I am, but do you really think that?"

He clicks his tongue and walks to the back door leading inside, you follow quickly but he shoves a towel in your face. You were confused, but then he pointed down at your feet.

"I'm not cleaning up your dirty ass footprints."

He then walks away to what you think you remember was the kitchen. You chuckle and wipe your feet, which you hadn't even noticed got really dirty. After you thoroughly scrubbed your feet, you intended to follow Bakugo to the kitchen, but stop by the living room doorway.

Inside was Bakugo's parents talking quietly to each other while the tv close to them was on and on a low volume, most likely to cover their conversation. You were going to leave them be when you saw something familiar on the tv screen.

Walking into the room, you got closer to the tv, inadvertently showing your presents to the parents.

"Oh, Y/n, are you and Bakugo finished with training today?" Bakugo's father asked, but you didn't turn to look at him, eyes glued to the tv as you saw buildings you know you've seen before.

"... Yeah," You answer slowly, not turning from the tv. "What channel is this?"

"The news?" Bakugo's mother said, also looking at the tv. "Why?"

"Can you turn it up, please?" You finally turned from the tv to give Bakugo's mother a small pleading look. She complied, picking up the remote and turning up the volume.

You caught a glimpse of Bakugo coming in the room with two tall glasses of water before turning back to the tv.

"Yes, and we are now reporting live in what seems to be a villain attack. There seems to be only one villain who has taken hostages and has stolen money from local stores."

The tv then shows the store you were just at this morning with broken windows, then turned to a scene in which make your eyes go wide.

The first thing you see is a large black inky figure, which was picking up and throwing cars and anything big enough to cause damage at bystanders. You then saw a group of people huddled in a grey like a bubble that you remember all too well.

"...Riji?" You mutter, you brows frowning as you watch a few heroes try to get close, then quickly retreat at the sight of the inky figure creating large thick ink walls between them.

"As you can see, we have heroes on the scene, but they can't get close. The black ink substance seems to be admitting some kind of mass-energy that has already caused two heroes to have sudden cardiac arrests."

You didn't stay standing there any longer, backing up slowly then turning and running for the front door, completely ignoring the calls of the Bakugo family.

With how fast you were running and how fast your heart was beating, you knew you had enough energy to get there quickly. And you did, you were there faster than you knew it and already bringing with energy.

Police and heroes alike were making sure no one got too close, you ran up to there blockade and they were quick to stop you.

"Sorry kid, but you need to stay back!" A hero told you, looking over his shoulder every so often at the sound of crashing. You glared at him and moved to look past him, getting only a small look at Riji holding the bubble they were in.

"My friend is in there! He created that bubble! I can help!"

"No!" The hero countered. "It's too dangerous for a child to--"

You didn't stay to listen to his protest.

Your eyes went black and your body glowed and shimmered, crouching you jumped high over the hero's head and once back on the ground charge the villain, ignoring the try of the hero. Your eyes glowed like the start night sky as you ran straight past some heroes who tried to stop you, running straight into the villain's form.

You were expecting some kind of resistance at the wall of black ink that formed the villain, but there was none. You did however feel a huge jolt of energy flowing through you now, your body glowing brighter as you felt yourself brim with energy just waiting to be released.

"Y/N!"

You quickly turn your head, only to see Riji struggling to hold his bubble with the amount of power surging around. His quirk allowed him to make indestructible bubbles the are basically shields of an unbreakable mass, however, the bigger the bubble, the hardened to hold. It takes strength and consideration to hold them, that's what he had told you when he first showed you.

"Riji! Can you hold it a little longer?" You yell to him, bouncing at your feet as you feel the power around you almost making the energy in your body pour out.

He nods.

"Not for much longer!"

"I've got this!" You scream back, running full head into the eye of the storm of this villains form.

He couldn't just be a mass of inky blackness, he had to have a body somewhere.

And luckily for you, you ran straight into it.

The man in front of you grunts as he hits the ground, the darkness not going away as he looks up and stares at you in shock.

"What the-- a kid?? How did you--?"

You were blinding to look at now, all that could be seen of you was your glowing eyes, that didn't hold any black anymore, now only glowed a bright white. You smirked down at him tackled him, pushing him to his stomach and sitting on his back. You smiled at his attempts to get away from your grasp but screamed in pain as you heard the steam of his flesh burning.

"Want to know what it feels like to be in the middle of a star when it explodes?" You say, leaning down to his ear you laugh. "Well, you're about to."

Then, you let go of the power you were holding.

-----

All Bakugo could see from his spot in the crowd after he ran after you was the large inky villain, heroes arguing over the girl the ran in and how they were meant to get her out to saver her.

He wondered for a moment if it was his fault that she ran in without a second thought.

Had he put too much pressure on her during training? She said she wanted his help and his help alone so, he thought he was doing fine. She never really complained about learning and hanging out from him, in fact, he thought she enjoyed it.

But after what he told him before she left.

"I'm acknowledging how much pressure you have put on you and how much you're putting on yourself. It's like looking in a mirror."

She didn't do this to prove something, did she?

"Idiot, you better not be dead..." Bakugo muttered out, glaring at the large mass of ink.

Suddenly, he felt the air around quickly heat up, and a bright light explodes from the mass. Everyone around gasped and covered their eyes, the heat around making everyone begin to sweat. Once the light dimmed and was fading with the heat, all that was left was gently falling specks of stardust-like light.

In the middle of this gentle fall of stardust snowflakes, was a large bubble full of the victims of the attack, and dragging out a man was the girl Bakugo had learned to respect as an equal.

She looked exhausted, her feet stumbling every step or so with her eyelids half-closed. She had what looked like glistening tears coming from her eyes like a subtle drip fountain, there were also small cuts and visible bruising on her body.

With what strength she had left she placed the villain down, and as he tried to get up she places her now glowing hand on the back of his neck which made him hiss in slight pain.

"I wouldn't even think it, sir. You're not going anywhere." She glowered down at the villain as cops and heroes alike rushed over to take the villain into custody.

Bakugo started making his way over to her when he was pushed to the side by reports.

"Oi!" He growled at them, but they surrounded Y/n to the point he could really only see her exhausted face.

"Young lady! Do you know how dangerous that was?!" The hero who tried to stop her before now stood scolding her, the cameras of reports taking it all in great detail.

Y/n herself gave him a tired glare and shrug.

"Just as dangerous as it would be for any other hero."

"Exactly! You're hurt!"

"So?"

"Do you know how stupid that was?!"

Y/n grit her teeth, now puffing you her chest in anger.

"I did your job better than you! If you want to call hero work, by all means! I saved them!"

The hero glared down at her, Bakugo watched Y/n stand her ground once more in front for an authority which seemed to be something she did frequently.

"You're a child!"

Y/n's cheeks flushed with anger.

"As if my age matters!? You seem to forget your precious hawks hero ain't exactly an old clown like the rest of the top ten are, you saying his work is pointless because he's young?!"

Everyone watching was taken back, especially the hero scolding her, before he could come back at her though, a reporter watching and recording all this cut in to talk with her.

"You're so young, yet you rushed in headfirst. Did you know what danger you were in?"

Y/n turned and glared at the woman, then glared into the camera that was turned directly to her face. She could feel herself getting overwhelmed, sure she wanted to make her voice heard but... to many eyes were watching.

"Did you know how dangerous it was when you came to record this shit?" Y/n asked the woman back harshly, the reporter flinching back a little as Y/n turned into the camera head-on and glared into it.

"And for those of you just watching at home just waiting to say some shit behind a screen about me being stupid for doing this, I want you all to know something,"

She snatched the mic from the reporter as her eyes started to shine with stars.

"Think you could do better? because I don't see all the 'help' you self proclaimed heroes are doing. So before you come for me, take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself: If you were in my shoes, you could even take two steps?"

Y/n now furious, tired, in pain, and overall done with the day, grabbed the mic held in her hands and snapped it in half like a twig. Throwing it to the ground and making her way past the crowd, who all quickly made way for her to walk.

Bakugo however didn't move, the only one to stand in her path as she came to a stop in front of him. Looking up at him in the eyes, all Y/n could do was sigh and bow her head.

"I'm sorry..." It was so quietly said, Bakugo could barely hear it. She brushed past him gently, making her way away from the crowd of people watching you. Cops and heroes silently argued if they should stop her and question her, which they should have.

But Bakugo watched Y/n warp her arms around herself, walking barefoot down the streets past people, head down and back slouched.

Bakugo's mind was set, and a path in his mind clicked and was created at that moment.

Y/n and Bakugo really were two sides of the same coin.

-----

You walked around for a while, trying to get everyone off your tail so you could go back to your dumpster and forget this day ever happened.

You were more than exhausted and just wanted to close your eyes, slightly frustrated that you wouldn't be eating for the night either.

You sigh and run a hand down your face, turning the corner into your alley.

"Ugh, and Bakugo's probably pissed at me for running off on him like that..."

You stopped walking when you saw someone standing at the other side of the alley, it was definitely not Riji since he was apparently stuck with the police the last you saw of him. You stood stock still, watching the person standing across from you.

Then there were two.

Three.

Five.

Your tired body felt a shiver up your spine, a heavy feeling behind you.

Before you could do anything though, your head was shoved into the alley wall beside you while your arms were locked behind your back. As your head spun and pounded from the impact of the wall, the petty part of you finished counting.

Six.

"Nice performance on the news today, girly," I was the sound of a woman's voice behind you, you watched it slightly blurred vision as the other people came walking down the alley to meet with you. "It was a real star-shower."

You gave out a weak and bitter laugh, your voice came out cracking and weak.

"That's called a meteor shower, dumb bitch. I may be homeless, but I guess I'm more educated than--"

You were pulled from the wall tossed to the ground, your hands freed too late as you landed head first on the ground. And when you tried to sit up, you got a hard foot to the back that shoved you back down.

"That was one of our best you jailed, you little cunt," The woman spoke again, your face turned to the side as you saw her combat boots come into view. She leaned down, catching your eyes.

She then grabbed you by the head and forced you head back in a way that made your neck crack painfully while you let out a small cry of pain.

"Just who do you think you are, little girl?"

You grunt and breath heavily, sucking in as much air as you could. Your head pounded and you could feel a small trickle of blood fall over your left eyes, your ribs aching from the pressure of the foot in your back.

"Clearly someone who's better than 'one of your best's."

She growled and shoved your head into the ground again, making you cry out again as you felt your nose start to bleed. She pulled your head up again to face her and her goons.

"You just don't quit do you?"

"Nah," you say quietly. "Quitting ain't my style."

"Well, maybe any early death is." She grinned at you, then her eye suddenly glowed a neon, radioactive green.

You saw her raise her right hand, the one not holding your head, and it leaked with the same neon color as her eyes. The neon liquid from her hand hissed angrily as it hit the pavement below you and you knew.

"Acid..." You mutter out, apparently enough for her to hear. She laughed and nodded her head at the rest of her goons, who laughed along with her.

She turned back to you with an evil grin and an insane look in her eyes.

"Smart. Ya know, kid, if you hadn't been such a problem, I would've liked taken you into my gang."

You gave a breathy laugh with hurt your throat which was at this point dry, closing your eyes and shaking your head as much as you could in her grasp.

"Thanks but... no thanks..." You opened your eyes and looked her dead on. "I don't work with losers like you freaks, and besides... If a 15-year-old beat your 'best' you can't be shit, hun."

She growled and it was like time slowed, her glowing acid hand made its way straight to your face. You closed your eyes and awaited the painful death that seemed to be coming your way.

You knew you would die one day, though, you had at least hoped that you would have made it a bit further than 15.

Maybe 19... 20s asking too much.

You felt her hand wrap around your face and you waited, but... nothing came. Slowing opening your good eye, you and saw her hand and eyes were no longer glowing, and her face was covered in confusion.

"What the--!"

She was cut off by a cloth wrapping around her face and quickly shoving her into the ground, and it wasn't long until the weight of the foot on your back was released as well. You heard quarl above you, the goons yelling about not seeing who it was or where they were.

You, too tired and in pain to move, stayed laying on the ground, staring at the knocked out woman in front of you.

Then, it stopped. No more fighting, no more grunts of pain, only the sounds of someone's footsteps. Even as they came close to you, you didn't move.

The footsteps stopped, then you saw the knocked out woman being dragged out of your sight. You let your aching chest fill with air before you pressed your hands to the ground, pushing yourself up from the ground on to your hands and knees.

This was enough to take the breath you just breathed away, and you sat back tiredly on your heels. You head faced down, you couldn't bring yourself to look up yet, the pain you felt all over was stronger than your curiosity of the stranger who saved you.

Well, that was until you heard his voice.

"Why did I know when I saw you, you would be trouble?"

You slowly lifted your head, and standing in front of you was the night-time hero and your highschool teacher, Eraserhead.

You give what you can only assume is the most pathetic smile in the world to him, your hand not even leaving your side but waving a small wave to him.

"Howdy teach."

He sighs, walking over to you before kneeling down. He seemed to look you over, looking at the damage done to you as you sigh.

"Guess this can't really count as just an after school activity, right?" You weakly joke, but he didn't change his neutral expression at all.

"We didn't have classes today, Uchukyuzo." He states in a monotoned voice, finally taking his goggles off to look you in the eyes. "You must be stupid."

"Yeah..." You let your head drift to the sit, slightly nodding to your homeroom teacher. "You're not wrong..."

"You do realize you can no longer live like this, correct?"

This got you, you frowned your brows but quickly regretted it from the pain that came from just moving your face.

"Wha... what do you mean?"

He sighed, standing up he grabbed your arms gently enough to not hurt you, but with enough force to help you stand. You hiss and slightly whimper in pain at this swift move, but allowed him to take you by the shoulders and guide you slowly threw the alley.

"You've being moved to a facility until we can find you a real home."

Though you felt pain coursing through you, you smacked his hands off you and stumped over to the alley wall in pain gasping a little but then turning and glaring up at his neutral face.

"What...?"

"Uchukyuzo," He said in a stern voice. "You can't actually expect a school like U.A. to ignore the fact that you live in an alley, sleep in a dumpster, and eat stole or savaged food while dressed in clothes from the trash."

You lean you back on the wall, face him fully now, you glare even harder than before.

"You were watching me."

"Ever since you got into the school," Aizawa confessed.

You growled weakly, like an injured animal still trying to fight as it's cornered.

"I thought the Principle said it was classified."

"It is," he confirmed. "to students and others not staffed or properly responsible for the students. You expect only Nezu to know? Homeless or not, we've never taken in a student with no record of anything except for a date of birth that took far too long to find."

You looked off to the side, sighing as the weight of the day started to come back to you.

The worry of not seeing Riji, the emotional ride you hade with Bakugo, the training with Bakugo, the villain and apparently the villains gang, and now...

"You're ripping me away from the only place I've called home for 10 years..."

Turning to face Aizawa again, who didn't cave under your look.

"Do you know that's what you're doing?"

"This isn't a home." He stated as if it were nothing.

"Maybe not to you but it is to me!!" You scream, not even caring about the pain that ripped through your dry throat. "Where else am I supposed to go, huh?! To the foster care that didn't give a rats ass about me and only wanted profit?! Only to be given to a family that want a pat on the back for 'saving' an unwanted kid, is that the kind of 'home' you want me to be in!?"

He clicked his tongue and looked off to the side, which made your blood boil even more.

"That's it!?"

"You aren't the only one with a sob story." He looked down at you, and your eyes began to glow as you glared at him with every bit of anger and energy left in you.

"You think I don't know that!? Do you think I don't hate myself day in and day out about all the things I complain about?! I may have a fucked up way of living but I get I'm not the only one! But this is my story! My life! I can't give up!"

You felt your body start to lose strength as the glow around you faded and you looked down.

"I can't let go of this... not yet..."

"Y/n," You look up at Aizawa, who was now closer to you. He placed a hand on your hand in a gentle manner, looking you in the eyes as he spoke.

"You deserve a better life than this. You've worked hard to get where you are today, and I'm not at all downplaying it. But even I have to ask for help sometimes..."

Your eyelids droop and you felt his words hit you harder than they would have if you were at your best. You were so used to covering up your feelings by forcing it away with something you deemed more important, but now... at your lowest, you couldn't find it in you to fight his words.

"Let us help you now."

Your head dropped, but since Aizawa was so close to you, your head landed on his stomach. His hand moved from atop your head to the nape of your neck as you let out a tired sigh. You felt small tires drip from your eyelashes, ones soaking into the man's clothing or landing on your bare feet.

"If you were me... you would be angry too... right?" You questioned out loud, not really knowing if you genuinely wanted an answer or not.

But it's not as if you got that answer anyway, as your vision went black and your body went numb.

-----

Aizawa carried you over to the car that was meant to take you to the U.A. own building where you would be living for a while, and as he sat in the back with you, your head on his lap, he watched your face.

Aizawa did like to sleep more than the fact that it gave him time to rest his overworked eyes or his tired body, it also gave him time to not have to feel anything.

When you sleep, it's almost as if time stops, just for you. No emotions, at least, the good sleep had no emotions.

Looking at your relaxed face, face patched up by some of the people helping to gather what little things you had to bring with them, you looked so peaceful.

You were in the sleep that had no dreams, no feelings or actions, just darkness as your body healed.

While you slept on his lap, he looked out the window and thought over what his answer to your question would have been if he were to answer at all.

"If you were me... you would be angry too... right?"

"Kid," He muttered quietly to himself, glancing down at you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I don't need to be you... I already am angry too."

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #mha x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #x female reader

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libermachinae · 4 years

Text

Drops in a Bucket, Splashes on the Ground

Also available on AO3! Tags: Mature, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Gen, Whirl (Transformers), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Whirl is Primus AU, Angst, would you believe me if i said i didnt set out to write another angst fic, whirl's just like that Wordcount: 4202 Notes: I would highly recommend you read "Bullets" or at least be familiar with Whirl's abuse of Rotorstorm before reading this fic. The scene containing graphic violence begins with "Tacticians always struggle..." and the scene referencing abuse begins "He shoves his way..." Please feel free to reach out if you need any further information.

~*~

“And I guess old Primus makes five.”

“Hah! No, no, no. That’s not Primus… you’re Primus.”

~*~

Whirl has never been intimidated before. Not so intentionally, not by bots whose forged bodies have been piled on with armor and weaponry, no expenses spared by the ganglords. The Heavies rolled up on treads that left gouges in the streets, painful marks that tomorrow’s taxes will go to fixing, and their transformations took a full five seconds as excess plating moved out of the way while their protoforms tried to bend per their original configurations. They wear identical red visors and dark gray masks: faces, certainly, but only in the barest sense of the word, enough to separate them from lowlifes without affording them identity. It is impossible to tell one from the other and Whirl knows, intrinsically, that it will not matter.

~*~

Rung is the only one who doesn’t flinch. Whirl stands over Adaptus’ body, freshly relieved of what they can all agree was a spectacularly ugly head, and puts away his gun.

“Right,” he says, with a meaningful glance out the window. “Want to agree none of us heard that?”

“Whirl!” Rodimus shouts. “You can’t just kill a god!”

The body explodes into a pile of dust.

“Sure I can,” Whirl says, shaking it off his foot even as he leans down to inspect the scrapple. “Hey Ratch, can you rig me to explode next time I get shot?”

“Is it true?” Nautica asks, doing her intellect a massive disservice by stepping in front of the unhinged bot with a blaster.

“Obviously not,” Ratchet says. “He was lying.”

Whirl nods.

“Yeah. You think I would keep it a secret from any of you if I was a god? You think Cyclonus would ever hear the end of it? Nah.” He stands, kicking pile and sending a spray of metallic dust into the air. “Awesome way to go, though, can’t say I’m not jealous.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to kill him for it.”

“So, you’re not Primus?” Nautica asks. She hasn’t moved, her arms crossed in front of her. If Whirl had been her creator (and he isn’t, he already has his claws full with a nest of scraplets), he would have been pretty proud of her right now.

“Nope!” he says. “I’ve never vouched for the universe before, but that kind of joke would take on an extra level of cruel, don’t you think?”

“Got to agree with Whirl, here,” Rodimus says, a hand on Nautica’s shoulder drawing her back. “I could buy pretty much anyone else. Maybe not Rung, but, say, Velocity? She could be Primus. Or Roller. I guess not Megatron, since we saw him come online, but—”

“The point, Rodimus,” Ratchet deadpans.

“The point is, not Whirl,” Rodimus said, sweeping his hands up to gesture at him. “I get Primus is disappointed in us. We are a textbook example of why a race of sentient war machines should never be left to their own devices, combined with a case study on how to avoid learning from every mistake you’ve ever made. But I really don’t think that disappointment would translate to actively hunting us for sport. Isn’t Primus supposed to be all about forgiveness and loving your cellmate?”

“Right,” Whirl says, clacking his pincers together in his approximation of a snap. “An angry god is so cliché.”

“I don’t think anyone knows what Primus believed,” Rung says. Oh no. He’s taken off his glasses. “I don’t see any reason he couldn’t be Whirl.”

“How about we start where the part where gods don’t exist, and Whirl does?” Ratchet suggests.

“I… I am Solomus, though.”

The whole group turns to the offending voice. Whirl goes for his gun and Rodimus knocks it out of his hand, a stern finger silently telling him not to kill any more gods. As if being an ex-Matrix bearer gives him some sort of say.

Tyrest has not stopped touching his gaudy mantelpiece, poking at the holes. It wouldn’t be so disturbing, except he’s staring at Whirl while he does it.

“Primus, don’t you remember?” he asks.

“Hey, let’s watch the fragging language.”

“Adaptus wanted to send our creations to pointless war,” Tyrest goes on. “Violence for the sake of violence, conquests built on the backs of others. We fought him.” He steps forward and reaches for Whirl. “Together, we—”

Whirl jerks back with his claws extended out.

“I will cut your hand off, I swear to—I swear.”

He is saved from any more interrogation by the ground violently rumbling underneath them.

“Okay, so regardless of whatever’s Whirl’s deal is, we do still have at least one Primus to worry about,” Rodimus says, looking out the window at the approximation of what Whirl, personally, had always assumed god would look like. “Solomus, you still got your teleporting rigged up?”

~*~

No one ever considered giving The Institute a waiting room, so Whirl stands to one side of the hallway while the butchers discuss his case. He knows his proposal intrigues them: they have never had an opportunity to shadowplay a willing subject before. What is there to learn from a brain that does not fight them every step of the way? What backdoors exist that every other victim kept hidden? Whirl does not care about the potential scientific advancements his offer provides. He just wants to stop dreaming of gears, lose the phantom aches of his fingers. He wants to look in a mirror and see nothing: not himself, not a monster. Just an object, fulfilling its purpose.

The scientists who walk by him in the halls stare. Everyone stares, but the look they give him is different. They do not find him exceptional, nor do they feel for him pity or contempt. He is no marvel. He is a creation, perfectly engineered to suit its purpose, every detail minded with care to ensure it all works together as an ideal mechanism. He wishes he could see himself through their eyes.

The door beside him slides open and a bot he has never seen before steps out. His helm comes up no higher than Whirl’s waist and his large yellow optics do not look up from his datapad.

“Whirl of Polyhex, the panel has elected to reject your petition,” he says. “I am to remind—”

“What?” Whirl startles; his new head shoots upward, forcing him into an angle that is both unnatural and instinctual. “Why? Ice Pick said he could—”

“I am to remind you that you have signed a nondisclosure agreement; failure to comply will result in penalty of death.” The little bot flares his plating, the click of a motor lock setting it in place. “You will now submit to full stasis and be escorted back to your home.”

The jack comes from behind.

~*~

“This is my hab suite.”

Whirl knows the tonal difference between a bullet hitting living metal and a wall. He scowls and gives up, waving Cyclonus inside.

“My room’s a mess,” he says. “Think I’m gonna crash here for a while.”

Cyclonus comes in and sits beside Whirl on the berth. When the door slides shut, they are visible only by their biolights: Whirl closed the shutters when he came in, the stars too much like blinking numbers. Cyclonus is a surprisingly quiet machine. His presence comes with none of the usual hisses and clicks one would normally get with their kind, like each component was designed specifically to work with those around it. Compared to Whirl, whose body is a wreck of pieces that almost fit together, clinking and scraping through their standard functions, he practically doesn’t exist.

“This is slagged, huh?” Whirl asks.

Cyclonus thinks on it a moment, then there is a shift of plating as he nods. Is it an admission, a confession? Pri—frag, Whirl doesn’t want to have to start thinking about that.

“Sorry,” he says.

“You don’t need to—”

“Scrap, you’re right. What am I doing?” Whirl laughs. “I’m infallible now, right? It’s all been part of my grand plan for Cybertron. I should be saying you’re welcome; you should be thanking me.”

Cyclonus sighs, a rush of air out his vents.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks.

Whirl pokes and pinches at his own plating, trying to make sense of it.

“Yeah,” he says. “Start praying, and keep Megatron far away from me.”

~*~

He’s spent two days in the holding cell before he realizes no one else is coming for him.

That Orion Pax… he’s good, and Whirl’s not sure whether it’s the kind that gets people hired or gets people killed. Not that it matters, not that he cares. The Senate’s going to crush all of them one by one, like little cans of oil under a rolling tank. He thought being a tread would come with some measure of relief; instead, it just landed him in a hole.

He digs a claw tip into the wall, another score among a small collection. He has been trying to reconstruct the miner’s face, what it looked like in the split second between recognizing he had been struck and realizing there was more to come. He can’t relish a memory if he can’t keep it, and he’s already struggling well enough to accomplish the former. This assignment was supposed to be a release. Look down at the big thinker and imagine in his place Senator Proteus, Sentinel Prime, the faceless Functionist Council. Tell himself that this is what it would feel like to rip their plating open until their priceless energon spilled onto a dirty floor.

The face, though, it’s escaping him. How can he fell anything about a person with no face? What relief is there to be found in beating the slag out of a nobody? He is trying so hard to adapt, but it’s like his processor is working against him, reminding him how far he got before he was reeled back in. The silhouette of his sketch is familiar.

His claws hurt where he has worn the tip blunt, and the portrait is still incomplete.

~*~

“I don’t make Matrixes,” he insists. The group was polite enough to knock once they found him, but they’re failing to pick up the hint that he wants all of them to go away, right now, and leave him alone forever.

“Well, Epistemus says you can,” Rodimus says, dentae blocked together. “Why do all the other gods have their memories back, but not you?”

“I dunno, maybe Needles can stick me and figure it out.”

It’s almost cute, the way Rewind steps protectively in front of Chromedome.

“Rodimus,” Rung says, trying to get between them, “this isn’t helping.”

“Thank you,” Whirl says. “Now can we get to the part where we storm the planet, guns a-blazin’?”

“That won’t help either.” Rung turns to look at him. “Your memories haven’t been deleted, Whirl. Somehow, there should still be some part of you that remembers creating the Matrix.”

“The Functionists probably took it out,” Whirl says.

“That’s not how mnemosurgery works.”

“Says the dropout.”

“You told me once about your earliest memory,” Rung says. Whirl should be furious that he’s doing this here, in front of people who have no business knowing what’s in his head, but he’s more interested in the way Rung has taken off his glasses and is squinting up at him. “What happened just before it?”

They did not bring Ratchet, a testament to the fact that they will not leave before he gives them answers. He could start lying again, or find another way to forgo the question, but something about Cyclonus’ presence at his back helps him settle down the compulsion. Everybody lies about their forging. Everybody wants to say it was overseen by the Prime, or that they settled into their form like resin poured into a mold, instant and perfect. Whirl has a set of seven stories he deploys on rotation, ranging from heroic to beautifully tragic, and he spends a moment picking through them, trying to remember which was the real one.

“I showed up at the Functionsts’ place to get my docs in order,” he says. “I was… I was trying to get Polyhexian citizenship.” Awful city, but he had always sworn the energon tasted better there than anywhere else.

“But you said you were forged in Polyhex,” Rung says.

“Yeah. It was easier that way.” Whirl puts a claw to his head. “I… augh, nope. No, this is stupid.”

“Whirl—”

“No, I’m done,” he says, pushing Rung away. “Fully done, Rung. That’s right. You were god’s therapist, and he fired you. I’m gonna go take out a planet.”

~*~

Tacticians always struggle with where to put Whirl on a battlefield. On the one hand, he’s an attack helicopter, equipped with long-range cannons and advanced aiming modules. Keeping him in the sky is the perfect way to set up a terrible surprise for Cons on the ground. On the other, he’s Whirl, and facing him head-on can be just as chilling and or fatal.

In the end it rarely matters which call they make because, as stated before, he’s Whirl. He will do whatever he damn well feels like. Right now, that means skimming over the top of the battlefield, sights trained on the odd dot who tries to disgorge themselves from the fighting mass. He is supposed to be providing support to the ground troops, peppering the Decepticon line so they can break through, but no one is going to complain about a few more dead soldiers.

A truck breaks free and he pitches down, giving chase, machine guns firing before he’s got a lock on. The ground explodes in shrapnel as they try to serpentine out of the way, but he keeps firing and soon enough their paths cross.

He riddles them. Their roof is already a puckered, punctured mass of warped metal before their back tires blow and they go skidding and flip onto their side. Their plating shuffles, uncoordinated, as they try to transform, and Whirl goes for the underbelly, shattering the exposed protoform in a burst of pink energon. They slump with their legs disengaged. There is a buzzing, crunching noise as the dying t-cog tries to settle into either mode, then a jet of smoke erupts from the body. The engine has seized, locking it in a permanent limbo.

Whirl spins around to track down his next prey. He loves his job. The Autobots have a need, and he fills it with a gusto that only occasionally gets him in trouble. He’s no hitmech: he lacks the finesse, the style. But he can rain irreverent murder down from the sky, send Cons fleeing just long enough to make them think they had a chance, and he can do it without questioning an order. The war needs people like him.

Two soldiers are trying to escape together, one with their arm over the other’s shoulder, a sparkling stump of a leg between them. Whirl gets low, following them until the roar of his rotors is unmistakable, until they cannot help but turn and he sees their optics. Then he fires.

The wounded one falls first, knocked onto their front and grasping uselessly until their hand is blown off and they go still. The other gets their legs knocked off and goes spinning, landing on their head with a crunch. Whirl keeps advancing, keeps firing, tearing open their plating and reducing their inner working to molten slag, spattering the ground with used energon. They flop, over and over, until Whirl gets bored of the show and hauls off, leaving them almost indistinguishable from the carnage of the land itself.

Whirl hovers over the fighting and looks down while he scans for a target. This high up, visuals are useless for determining Bots from Cons. Little Cybertronians run around, whacking and shooting at each other, falling down, down, down. The metal under their pedes is slippery pink with energon. It splashes against their plating, over their insignias, until they are all just little wandering targets.

Whirl has his job, and he loves it, and he does it well.

~*~

He should feel something, but his spark is a void as he tosses the rest of the guns into the shuttle, all the stuff he held off using because he wasn’t ready to get kicked off the ship. He is not coming back from this. He knows it, so better to take it all.

He’s just fastened the locker when he hears the footsteps on the hatch and looks up. It’s Tailgate, of course. Tailgate, who has a pack hanging from one shoulder and a gun holstered at his side. It’s a shrimpy thing, something Cyclonus taught him to shoot in case they ever got separated, more useful for making noise than taking down an aggressor. It has room for one round of ammo and Whirl doubts he brought a bullet more.

He comes aboard without saying anything and stops beside world, continuing to say nothing. The hand on his pack is clenching: he’s being brave. He’s also waiting for some grand speech, some sacred insight to the nature of their quest and their places in the universe. Well, tough. He should know Whirl better than Primus.

He lifts a claw to shove Tailgate backward and down the hatch, but it stops an inch before Tailgate’s plating. What does it matter? Cyclonus can’t kill him where he’s going and Tailgate himself is just a drop in the bucket. Standing there with his chest puffed out, optic band steely and focused, he looks like any other Cybertronian, never mind a few years left behind.

Whirl retracts his claw. Tailgate nods at him.

Another drop in the bucket.

~*~

He shoves his way to the front row, slamming himself into his chosen seat just ahead of a little spy plane who had been angling for the same spot.

“Buzz off,” he says. Never mind the spy plane outranks him. This is his big day! He got here early so he could get this seat, right in front, though he can barely hold it as the audience fills in around him, so many Bots he does not know and who do not matter. The only one he cares about it up on the stage, smiling with an air of detached cooperation, off in his own head again like he always was. Whirl thought they had made progress on that, but some habits were just too hard to break.

The opening speech is long and predictably boring, lots of talk about this base he has never been on before. Whirl’s engine clicks in agitation. When bots give him dirty looks, he sneers.

“Chronic fanbelt lockup, ever heard of it?” he hisses at them, adding in a few extra ticks for good measure. They go back to minding their own business, but Whirl still catches the optics glancing at him, and his engine goes from annoyed click to angry hum. He knows what they see.

Luckily, the speaker eventually gets over himself and moves on.

“Rotorstorm, will you please step forward?”

Whirl is on his feet before the other copter has a chance to rise, his cheering rising well above the swell of the crowd. He shouts, he stomps his feet, and he bangs his claws together until the bots on either side of him wince, and he gets even louder when he knows Rotorstorm has noticed him.

“Go on, get up there!” he shouts. “You earned this, didn’t you?” The rest of the crowd has calmed down, but he stays standing, arms dropped to his sides. He stares at Rotorstorm as he crosses the stage, shoulders pressed back, each step placed so precisely in front of the last that it must be calculated. He waits until Rotorstorm has reached the edge to sit back down, and then still his optic is pointed, refusing to let Rotorstorm look anywhere else. Rotorstorm’s own optics are wide, though the rest of his expression is slack. His biolights are steady, his ventilations manual and even. He’s perfect.

“Rotorstorm,” the presenter says, “I hope you will forgive us; this is an honor that is long overdue. During the Simanzi Massacre, you singlehandedly scouted a pass through Mount Helix that allowed for the rapid evacuation of the 9th Battalion. Your commanding officers estimate that your decisive actions saved upwards of one thousand Autobot lives.” Whirl’s engine is silent. He’s drinking in every word. “Today, we present you with the Novic Medal for Outstanding Honor. ‘Til all are one.” Rotorstorm ducks his helm as the award is magnetized to the right of his cockpit, finally breaking his optic contact with Whirl.

“’Til all are one,” he repeats, though most of the crowd does not hear him over Whirl’s cheers.

Rotorstorm turns without looking up and returns to his seat. The next recipient is called forward and Whirl walks out.

~*~

He can’t do it. He’ll blame it on the way Tailgate’s plating quietly rattles or Cyclonus’ entire personality as he starts to board, but he shuts off the shuttle’s engine and disembarks with them trailing behind. He retreats to his hab suite, and though he does not invite them he’s glad when they make it inside before the door closes.

“Nobody in the mutiny is allowed to have any of my stuff. I don’t care if Thunderclash is dying again and my innermost energon is the only compatible fuel in the galactic sector, he can’t have it.”

Tailgate nods along, his fingers in a death grip around Whirl’s pincer.

“And when you guys are talking about me later, no one call me anything but Whirl. I’m serious. I don’t know about anything I did before that, so what could it matter?” He looks up at the ceiling. “In fact, don’t tell anyone about the Primus thing. No point.”

Cyclonus is a solid, immobile presence on his other side.

“Am I forgetting anything? Oh, tell Roadbuster I’ll be waiting for him in the pit.”

“Do gods go to the Afterspark?” It’s not clear who Tailgate is asking.

“I definitely don’t plan to stick around and watch over you or whatever. Think I’ve had enough of this universe.” He chuckles, a strained sound. “Yeah. So, that’s it. Better get this show on the road, huh?”

“We’ll be with you the entire time,” Tailgate promises.

“For as long as you want us,” Cyclonus amends.

“Yeah, I know.” He shrugs, laughs again. “I’m not even really scared of the whole dying thing. I’d made peace with that. Whenever there was something I needed to do, I took care of it, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it if the right bullet finally found its mark.” He glances between them. “Now, though… you two better behave, I swear. I’m making it your Primus-sworn duty to take care of and listen to each other, okay?”

Cyclonus nods, and the way he takes it so seriously makes Whirl almost glad he’s on his way out. He couldn’t handle being looked at like that all the time, and especially it’s the way they reach across his lap and entwine their hands that really does him in. He hates them dearly.

“Okay,” he says, winding up his t-cog for the big spin. “Okay, twelve Matrixes. No problem.”

~*~

Whirl times the blinking numbers to the rotations of his spark. 1,600 exactly. He’s done it.

He leans back in his chair but cannot stop staring at the little device in his hands. It is perfect. After years of researching, studying, trying, and failing, the pieces have come together to allow him to create this one perfect thing. He loves it, and a dangerous feeling of pride fills his spark, the kind that has so long been missing from his work in the Aerial Corps. If there is a Primus (and he’s still not sure, whatever the Functionists insist), this is what he built Whirl to do.

He gets up from his desk and walks across his small living space to a shelf. Nearing capacity, it has just enough room for him to push a few previous attempts aside to make room for the latest version. Surrounded by its brethren, it becomes lost almost immediately amid the sea of blinking lights, indistinguishable even from those he considers lesser. Some defects are more obvious than others: one has sat at the same time since the moment he brought it online, while another counts one klik backward for every two forward. But most are just slightly imperfect, necessary steps to get to this point, and he loves them all dearly.

He stands back. It feels like the work of a lifetime, these clocks, though he knows he took up the pursuit relatively recently. It’s just hard to remember how he filled his time before he had this project to work on, and he is again grateful he discovered it at all.

It is a gift to be able to create, he thinks, to cast a broad eye over his creations. The numbers blink at him, all out of tune, and he lets himself imagine being content doing just this for the rest of his life.

#maccadams #transformers #idw #whirl #abuse tw #death tw #my writing #oneshot #drops in a bucket #tbh im just so glad this is done #put too much time into it

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