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justlightlysedated · 3 years

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Kiss prompt 31? So excited at the prospect at maybe getting something new from you! 💜

31) Lips brushing against each other’s briefly, unsure of whether or not to kiss, before someone finally connects in a deep kiss

Alex is studying, reading over the last chapter and taking notes since Mrs. Baxter’s lectures are mostly unintelligible, when someone sits on the seat across from him.

Alex doesn’t look up, because it’s a free library and everyone can sit wherever they want, but after a few minutes of a stare so intense Alex felt it like a literal caress, he looked up and then promptly wished that he hadn’t.

Michael Guerin was sitting down across from him, dressed up like an emo cowboy, which it wasn’t like Alex could talk with the way that he dressed, but the black cowboy hat was a choice that Michael woke up every morning and made, while completely sober.

He doesn’t look away as Alex looks up at him, which is unusual. He just intensifies his gaze like he’s looking for something. Alex just stares at him blankly, for a second before he looks back down at his book.

It’s better, at least for him, to just ignore Michael. If Alex doesn’t give him a reaction, Michael eventually gets bored and leaves him alone, which is all Alex wants.

He gets enough unwanted attention at home.

“Tell me what you know about Ortecho,” Michael says, and Alex’s head snaps up at that, narrowing his eyes, wondering what the hell Michael wants with any of the Ortechos, and Michael leans in closer, tilting his head and looking at Alex curiously, like Alex did something that he hadn’t been expecting.

“What do you want with Liz?” Alex demands, and Michael grins at him, leaning back in his chair.

“Just wondering what makes her tic.”

Alex shakes his head, and looks back down to his notes, dismissing Michael. It’s not like he’s going to tell him anything, and telling Michael to stay away from Liz isn’t going to actually do anything, not when he could guess the reason why Michael was becoming so interested.

He had been in the Crashdown last night when Liz had fought with Kyle and had gotten comforted by Max.

Michael had only been in Roswell for six months, but he already had a reputation that basically warned everyone to stay away from Isobel and Max or else face a confrontation at the end of the knives tucked into the sides of Michael’s boots.

“Really?” Michael says, sounding slightly incredulous. “She’s dating the bigotted asshole who goads you into a fight on a daily basis.”

“Liz has horrible taste in men,” Alex says flatly, not bothering to look up. “That doesn’t make her any less one of my best friends.”

Michael clicks his tongue in disappointment, and then leaves.

Alex ignores the utterly ridiculous feeling of disappointment curling in the pit of his stomach at being left alone, and continues to take notes.

The next day, Alex gets to the Crashdown for his shift and finds Michael leaning back against the lamppost right in front, boots crossed at the ankles, body almost at a forty-five degree angle, hands stuffed in his pockets, the damn black cowboy hat dipped low enough to cover his face.

He almost looks like he’d fallen asleep there, and somehow, Alex doesn’t doubt that it’s possible. Michael has been known to fall asleep in the weirdest places, in the weirdest positions.

Before he can ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, Kyle is bursting out of the doors and heading straight for Michael like a bull.

“What the actual fuck, Guerin?” he says, reaching forward to grab Michael, jostling him enough that his hat falls to the floor. “What makes you think it’s okay to just threaten someone who has never done anything to you? You’re lucky Liz is so nice and forgiving or else-”

Kyle stops talking like he ran out of air, a squeak cutting off the flow of words, his hands dropping from where they’d been clenched in Michael’s black jean jacket, but Michael just pushes, stalking forward and trapping Kyle right against the Crashdown door, the switchblade that had been in his pocket pressed to Kyle’s neck.

“Or else what?” he says, sounding honestly curious.

Kyle swallows hard, and doesn’t seem to be able to find anything to say.

Alex looks over to the inside of the diner, and he sees Liz staring at the scene with wide eyes, and saying something to Mr. Ortecho and shaking her head.

Alex sighs, and looks back to where Michael is still looking at Kyle expectantly.

“Guerin,” Alex says, and Michael tilts his head to the side, towards Alex, but he doesn’t move. “Do you really think that you’d be able to get away with murder with these many witnesses?”

Michael exhales like he’s disappointed, but he steps away from Kyle, turning to give Alex a look, before he moves towards where his hat is still on the floor.

Kyle looks at Alex, and Alex can see the gratitude in his eyes, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t get this twisted,” he tells Kyle venomously. “I didn’t do this for you. I just don’t think that Mr. Ortecho needs to deal with the mess your death will leave behind.”

Kyle swallows hard, and there is something like regret in his gaze before he’s looking away from Alex to where Liz is, and then he just nods his head and leaves, heading towards his car.

“You know,” Michael says, the pout clear in his tone, and Alex sighs, looking up to the sky and wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve someone like Michael Guerin in his life. “Everytime that I think I’ve got you pegged, you go ahead and change it up on me. You don’t like that asshole. The world is better off without his homophobia.”

Alex sighs again, and turns to face Michael.

He wants to ask what Michael’s damage is that he’d immediately turn to knives and murder than literally any other method of problem solving, but at the same time, he really doesn’t want to know.

“Just because Kyle is an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to be gutted like a fish in the middle of the sidewalk.”

Michael gives him a look like Alex is naive and doesn’t know any better, “You are way too nice, Manes. It’s going to end up knocking you on your ass one of these days.”

Alex rolls his eyes, “I prefer that than being a bitter, cynical, knife wielding psycho.”

Michael frowns, putting his guard up so fast that Alex blinks a little in surprise.

“Yeah well, at least I can defend myself if someone who is supposed to be taking care of me comes at me with raised fists, can you say the same?” he hisses through his teeth, and stalks closer to Alex, eyes darting down to where Alex has a bruise on his shoulder from landing against the corner of the table, almost like he knows the bruise is there.

Alex just swallows hard and doesn’t say anything and Michael just scoffs, and then puts his hat on before he’s turning around and walking away.

Alex watches him leave and only moves when Liz comes out to ask him if he’s okay.

Alex is walking out of his last morning class, wondering if he would have time to drop by the Wild Pony and eat lunch with Maria before having to come back for his one thirty class when he spots Michael sitting down in one of the tables that dot the edges of the quad.

Alex slows down to a stop, and then tells himself that he really doesn’t want to deal with Michael and whatever it is that he thinks he knows about Alex, when Michael turns his face and looks right at Alex, tilting his head in a beckoning gesture.

Alex is walking over to him before he’s consciously made the decision to. He slows his footsteps as he gets closer to the table, and he’s not entirely surprised when Michael pulls up a brown paper bag from his lap, with the Crashdown logo at the front and sets it down on top of the table.

“What? No milkshake?” Alex says as he drops his messenger bag down on the floor and takes a seat across from Michael.

Michael leans down and pulls up a milkshake, paper cup wet with condensation and some of the green colored milkshake that’s melted and sliding down from below the lid.

Alex huffs out a breath, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth so that he doesn’t actually smile, and then he gives in and grabs the bag, pulling out what is obviously his lunch.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, after Alex sets everything in front of himself and grabs the burger, wrapper crinkling as he opens it.

Alex stops moving and looks at Michael incredulously.

Michael is avoiding his gaze, so Alex just sets his burger down and shakes his head. “You know, everytime that I think I’ve got you pegged, you go ahead and change it up on me.”

Michael scoffs, and turns to look at Alex, lips quirked up too much to be anything but a smile, “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I just don’t like being called a psycho, and I thought that we understood each other.”

The way he says the word ‘understood’ tells Alex what he’s always feared, that the second that Michael looked at him, when they first met, when Alex had been taking their order, and Michael had been sitting between Max and Isobel in one booth at the Crashdown, he’d seen a kindred spirit.

Alex inclines his head once, and grabs the burger again, “And I don’t like it when people tell me that I’m too nice.”

Michael just inclines his head, copying Alex, and just like that Alex knows that they have another understanding.

“I’ve been thinking about picking up a few classes here next semester,” Michael says after a few minutes of silence where Alex finished half of his burger and most of his fries.

“Because going to Roswell Community College is better than continuing at UNM?”

Michael gives him a surprised look, like he hadn't been expecting Alex to know about that, but Max liked to brag about Michael, almost like a proud dad talking about his favorite son, and Alex had been trapped more than once at the milkshake bar, just listening to Max talk.

Michael just shakes his head and leans back in his seat, playing with the paper wrapper that Alex had peeled off from the straw.

“It’s not about the quality of the education,” he says, sounding derisive. “There are things here that Santa Fe doesn’t have.”

Alex raises one eyebrow in question.

Michael just rolls his eyes and tosses the rolled up piece of paper at Alex, hitting him on the cheek.

Alex just continues to eat his lunch and ignores the heat he can feel flashing across his cheeks.

Alex is sitting at the same spot he always sits in the library, but he's got his foot kicked up on one of the chairs, since the doctor had told him to keep it elevated, and his hoodie was pulled up and low over his forehead so that he could avoid people staring at the bruise that colored the left side of his face.

It was pretty late, and the library was going to close soon, but Alex barely noticed that as he worked on the problems for his Calculus homework with his earbuds securely in place.

He's got one more problem to do, when something metal and shiny clatters on top of his Calculus textbook.

It takes him a second to realize that it's a knife, one of those throwing knives that are all metal, with a hole on the end you're supposed to hold, and another second to realize exactly who it belongs to.

Still, he stupidly looks up into Michael's pissed off face, that grows even more furious as he takes in the bruise on the side of Alex's face.

Alex looks away from him, picking up the knife by sticking the end of his pencil into the hole on the handle and holds it out to Michael.

"You dropped this," he says.

"Take it," Michael says, almost talking over him.

Alex's eyes snap to his face at that, "What?"

Michael just inhales, nostrils flaring slightly as he grabs the knife and then holds it out to Alex, the blade pressed against the palm of his hand.

"Take. It," he repeats, the two words each heavy and blunt.

"What?" Alex repeats incredulously.

"Take it," Michael says one more time. "And the next time he comes at you, defend yourself."

Alex shakes his head once, sharply and then he begins to put his books into his bag, standing up too fast, and almost forgetting all about his badly sprained ankle in the process.

He gasps weakly, and drops his bag to plant his hands down on top of the table to help keep his balance as the pain begins to radiate up his leg.

He breathes through the pain and then pushes away from the table, being careful not to shift his weight to his right leg, and he grabs his bag, ignoring Michael who he can feel like a bomb that's about to go off, and walks out of the library, waving to the librarian Ms. Wayne as he goes.

She gives him a polite smile but Alex can tell that she's worried about him.

Michael doesn't let him get too far.

He speeds up his steps and walks around Alex, stopping right in front of him and forcing Alex to stop or bump into him.

"Take it," Michael says again, but he's not brandishing the knife in his face, almost like he already knows that Alex isn't going to take it, but he still wants to instigate this argument.

"No," Alex says firmly, and just gives Michael a look when Michael grits his teeth and glares.

"My dad is an ex airman who was the Master Sergeant before he was dishonorably discharged. If I came at him with a knife, he'd turn it on me before I could even hope to defend myself. I'm not giving him something else to use against me."

Michael is still glaring but not as intensely as before.

Alex just sighs and keeps speaking, "I'm going to be eighteen in a few weeks, and with the money I have saved I'll be able to get my own place, and I'll be legally an adult, able to take care of myself and he won't be able to touch me ever again."

Michael looks away from Alex, a frown on his face, like he understands Alex's logic, but doesn't like it.

"You can still take the knife," he says, looking back at Alex, something pleading in his gaze. "Just so I can feel better."

Alex shakes his head, "Why is this so important to you?"

Michael gives Alex a look like he's questioning his intelligence, and then he steps closer, and it's not like he wasn't already standing inside of Alex's personal space bubble, but this puts him so close that Alex can feel the sweltering heat that he seems to constantly give off no matter what.

Michael doesn't seem to be satisfied with that and he takes another step closer, so that there is no space between them, and Alex can feel Michael's chest expanding as he breathes in.

Alex inhales shakily and thinks about taking a step backwards, but he's punched in the stomach with Michael's scent, spicy and warm from his fading cologne, but also he can smell sweat and oil and bourbon and something underneath that that reminds Alex of the way the air smells right before a summer rain shower.

It's intoxicating, and Alex is leaning towards the smell before he can stop himself, wanting to know if he sticks his nose against Michael's throat, if the smell will be stronger.

Michael huffs, something too much like a laugh, and Alex's eyes flutter open (when had he even closed them?) and Michael is entirely too close, and from this close, his eyes look so big and dark and hypnotic.

But there is something in his gaze, something that Alex recognizes deep in the pit of his stomach, and Alex feels it click into realization, the reason why Michael wants Alex to keep a knife with him.

It's not just that he wants Alex to be safe because he cares about him, but it's also exactly that, but this time, Alex knows that he means it as something else, something more.

The silent understanding sweeps through him, and he sees the moment that Michael figures it out, because his gaze goes softer, and his lips curve into a small smile.

Alex's eyes drop to Michael's mouth, very obviously, and Michael breathes in sharply.

Alex looks back up into Michael's eyes, and he tilts his chin up, swaying even closer, close enough that their noses brush together.

Alex breathes in shakily, and Michael shuffles even closer, his hands coming up to rest gently on Alex's arms.

Michael tilts his head and their lips brush together so lightly that Alex wouldn't call it a kiss, but he feels it sweeping through him like a wildfire, a sensation so sudden and so sharp that Alex shudders with it.

"Alex," Michael says, voice so low that Alex can barely hear him. "I'm going to kiss you now."

Their lips brush together with every word that he says, and Alex feels dizzy and shivery and his stomach is trembling, and he thinks that he might actually go crazy if Michael doesn't actually kiss him, so instead of waiting for Michael to finally move, Alex does.

He lifts his hands up to Michael's face and holds him still, right before he pushes their mouths together.

Michael inhales sharply, going so still that Alex thinks for a second he did something wrong and then Michael surges against him, digging his fingers into Alex's biceps and parts his mouth against Alex's, pressing the tip of his tongue to Alex's mouth.

Alex opens his mouth to Michael's and loses himself in the kiss, dragging his fingers to the back of Michael's head and into his hair, which feels much softer than he'd imagined.

Alex loses track of time as they kiss, and he feels lightheaded with the lack of air, but everytime that Michael pulls back, Alex pulls him back in, not wanting to stop the kiss.

Michael sways a little and pulls Alex with him, and Alex takes a step to the side, and has to pull away from Michael as pain radiates up his leg because he once again forgot about the sprain.

"Fuck," he says into the space between them, breathing heavily.

Michael tugs him in more securely against him, encouraging Alex to lean his weight on him and not on his foot, and Alex wraps his arms around Michael's neck and leans against him, pressing their foreheads together.

"Let me take you home," Michael says, voice breathless and hoarse, hands restless against Alex's back.

Alex nods his head slowly, as he leans in closer and kisses Michael again.

#an au where michael doesn’t make it back to roswell until after he’s eighteen #taking that tiny feral michael energy and running with it #also this is over 3k how did that even happen #who knows??#also thank you for the prompt #i hope you like this #can you tell ive just reread the aftg series and have been drowning in andriel fics the last two weeks????#this makes me want to write a malex aftg au tbh #tw for the war crime jesse manes #tw for knives even though they're not actually used #let me know if i should tag something else!!#malex fic #malexprompts2021 #long post

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 4

Heyyyyyy y’all, enjoy chapter 4! Check out my masterlist HERE to catch up and read my other fics. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Word count: 3052 After their kiss, Monae seemed to be avoiding him. They arrived and left at the same time almost every day, but she always found her way to her car quickly and was gone before he even stepped out the door. About a week had passed before M’Baku grew sick of it and headed down to her office to confront her on the sudden change of behavior when he almost ran over N’Jadaka.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” asked the prince.

“Nothing.”

“Nigga you walking around here looking like ‘Hulk smash’, what’s wrong?”

M’Baku sighed, not in the mood to deal with N’Jadaka at the moment. He reluctantly gave in, knowing he needed to talk to someone before he did something stupid like barge in on her in her office like he had planned.

“She is not talking to me.”

“Who, Monae? The fuck you do?” His right eyebrow lifted as he eyed M’Baku curiously. The Jabari chief rolled his eyes.

“Nothing! I just- we kissed,” M’Baku sighed. “And she has not spoken to me since.”

“All I’m hearing is you’re a bad kisser,” N’Jadaka smirked.

“...Is your cousin still here?” M’Baku deadpanned.

“Nope, you’re stuck with me and Lil Bit.”

M’Baku started massaging his temples, he could feel the stress headache creeping up on him.

“Fine,” he gave in as he and the prince ducked out of the hallway and into an empty conference room.

“The issue was not my kissing, the issue is that damn ring on her finger. Sometimes she is hot, sometimes she is as cold as the mountains. I know she is engaged, but I cannot help but want to be around her.”

“Damn, you got it bad. What happened to being ‘unattached’ while you’re here? I was just talking to Neicey, the new Black American history teacher, about you and she seems like she’s down for whatever, if you know what I mean. She might be able to help you get Monae off the brain. Here’s her number.” He handed M’Baku a slip of paper. “You do know how to use your phone right?”

M’Baku loved the prince like family, but sometimes he just wanted to punch him in his smug face.

“Yes I know how to use my phone, N’Jadaka.”

“Don't ‘N’Jadaka’ me, I’m trying to help your big ass.”

“You are right,” he conceded with a sigh and looked down at the number in his hand. “You said her name is Niecey?”

“Yup. Go talk to her, she doesn’t have another class until 3. Last time I saw her she was down by the court.” N’Jadaka said while walking backwards and disappearing through the door, leaving M’Baku alone to think about his next moves.

Of course he wanted to pursue Monae, but he knew that would be a dead end with the way she was treating him now. He decided a little fresh air wouldn’t hurt and stuffed her number into his pocket before heading outside to the basketball court.

M’Baku saw her before she saw him, and once again Monae ran straight into him. Without even looking up she knew who it was. She’d know that body and that cologne anywhere.

“M’Baku! Hi, I’m sorry...again,” she tried to laugh off her nervousness.”Anyways, gotta jet!”

“Not so fast,” M’Baku lightly grabbed her arm. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I’m not-” M’Baku cut her off with an eyebrow raise and a look that made her heart beat in her pussy. “Ok fine I am.”

“Why though?” He pulled her in closer and she backed away.

“Because that kiss should never have happened and if I’m around you too much it might happen again.”

He smirked.

“So you avoid me because you cannot keep your hands and lips off me? That is understandable, I have been told I am irresistible.”

She chuckled, neither confirming nor denying his statement.

“Monae, as much as it pains me to say this, we could just stay friends. That way you keep your honor and I get to keep you in my life without you running away every time you see me. Eh?”

Monae was quiet for a moment, contemplating the proposal. Could she really be friends with this man?

“Deal.” She reached her hand out to shake on it and he returned the gesture.

“So where were you ‘jetting’ off to?” M’Baku asked her as they walked towards the front doors of the outreach center.

“Home, actually. I know it’s early but my sister, Jazz, is in town and I want to spend as much time with her as possible before her break is over.”

“Oh, well, have fun and give her my best.”

“Will do.”

And with that, they parted. Monae headed to her car and peeled out of the parking lot while M’Baku watched with a smile on his face. Friends? Who was he kidding?

Shaking all non-platonic thoughts of her out of his head, he finally made his way to the basketball court where he noticed Niecey heading right for him.

“M’Baku, right?” She asked, clearly knowing the answer already.

“Yes, and you must be Niecey.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I am. So N’Jadaka tells me you’ve had your eye on me...I thought you were feeling Monae for a minute there.” she laughed.

“Monae? She is engaged. So, would you like to go to dinner tonight? You pick, my treat.” he tried to play it off and change the subject. Luckily it worked and her face lit up at his proposition.

“Ok, it’s a date.”

_______

“Look, she is a nice girl, but she was so...dull. I had to try way too hard to engage her in conversation.”

“Maybe she was nervous?” Shuri asked, only halfway listening as she examined the communication device designs her highschool aged students came up with.

“For what? It was only dinner,” M’Baku sat down in a huff.

“Some people get nervous around people they like, M’Baku, it’s normal,” the princess said defensively.

“Ohhh, the plot thickens,” said N’Jadaka as he entered the room. “They didn’t like the flowers?”

M’Baku and Shuri answered at the same time.

“What flowers?”

“Shut up!”

“My bad cuz, I thought that’s what- you know what? Imma go-”

“Actually I would like to talk to you after we discuss the princess and her crush.” M’Baku added teasingly.

“They’re not- ugh, fine.”

“How did you meet?” M’Baku asked her, desperate to talk about anything other than his boring date with Neicey.

“I met them at a conference for Teens in Tech at UC Berkeley. They’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, but they barely know I exist and I didn’t send the flowers because I chickened out. There, happy?” she rolled her eyes and went back to her work.

M’Baku grinned, finding her nervousness a nice change of pace from her usual arrogance.

“Ah, young love. I do not miss it,” he mused.

“Oh like your situation is any better? At least my crush is single.”

“At least I can talk to mine,” he said under his breath.

“Not without her fiance coming up to the Center,” Shuri pointed behind M’Baku to a tall thin man in a nice suit heading down the hallway towards them.

“Derrick, my man. How’s it going?” N’Jadaka put on a fake smile and tried to dap him up, but Derrick wasn’t on the same page so it ended up being more of an awkward fist bump.

“Going good, going good. Just here to see my girl,” he turned and stuck his hand out to M’Baku. “I don’t think we’ve met. Derrick Jones, attorney at law.” M’Baku stared at his hand a little too long before shaking it.

“Lord M’Baku, Chief of the Jabari,” he introduced himself with a sly smile.

“Oh a chief? That’s awesome man, I bet all this is boring as hell to you huh?”

“Quite the contrary.”

“Cool...cool...well, I gotta go find Momo. See you all later!”

Shuri gagged as he walked away and they all looked at each other in disgust at the nickname.

“‘Nae’ would be so cute, but ‘Momo’?...For an adult human? Absolutely not, I don't know how she stands that man.” Shuri rambled on about her disdain for Derrick. “Did you see how he deflated when M’Baku introduced himself with his title? He thought being an attorney was such a big deal? Ha!”

M’Baku couldn’t help but laugh and agree with the princess. Even without Monae in the picture the man was insufferable.

“And he didn’t even acknowledge you.” N’Jadaka added, shaking his head.

“Nope, just the men.” Shuri smiled sarcastically before turning to the chief. “If it’s not clear already, I’m on Team M’Baku. Fuck that guy, Monae deserves better. Even if it's not you, she doesn't deserve...that.”

“I agree...and thank you, I knew I would grow on you eventually.”

“Yes well it would’ve gone quicker had you not insulted my intelligence when we first met. This ‘child’ can hold a grudge.”

“Oh I am aware.” They smiled at each other before M’Baku’s assistant found them and interrupted.

“Excuse me, M’Baku?”

“Yes, Deontae.”

“There’s a phone call for you from Abiola, he says it’s urgent. Something about a snow bank...”

“Ah yes, thank you. Udakus, I will see you both later.” M’Baku saluted them in jest and was on his way to handle his business when he overheard two people arguing in a conference room.

“You don’t have to! I make more than enough money!” said a man whose voice M’Baku couldn't quite place. He continued down the hall with Deontae typing away on his tablet, but stopped in his tracks when he heard the other person. They both looked up at each other, recognizing Monae’s voice immediately.

“But I want to! What part of that don’t you get? I like being here with these kids a-and these people. The Wakandans are amazing and-”

“I’m sure they are sweetie, but this neighborhood is dangerous and I don’t like you being here. Do you know how many kids are probably downstairs trying to break into my car as we speak?!”

M’Baku rolled his eyes and he and Deontae shared a look. No matter how nice his car was, it wouldn’t attract anywhere near as much attention as the Wakandan technology in the Center.

His disdain for Derrick grew as he realized he had just mentally defended the useless gadgets of the lowlanders.

“Nobody wants your stupid car Derrick! There are literal hovercrafts in this building, nobody cares about your Audi.”

Deontae stifled a laugh.

“Wow, so it's like that? Why are you lashing out at me?”

“I’m not lashing out at you, I just want to keep my job that I love and you didn’t even ask me about moving first!”

“I figured if you didn’t want to go with me we could do long distance. LA isn’t that far-”

“Yes it is.”

Derrick let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m taking this job whether you're coming or not. You need to figure out your priorities.”

Deontae’s jaw dropped and he wasn’t able to pull it back in time when the door swung open and Derrick pushed past the two of them. When Monae looked up and saw them her face turned to stone. She was horrified that they had just witnessed her in such a vulnerable state.

“My apologies, we were just walking by and-”

“We didn’t hear anything!” Deontae forced out. M’Baku gave him a look and he shrugged. He wasn’t good under pressure.

Monae wiped her eyes and M’Baku felt so helpless. All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and make everything better...that and beat Derrick senseless.

“It’s ok, we were uh, pretty loud,” she said, avoiding eye contact with M’Baku.

“What do you need from me?” He asked her, his voice soft as a pillow. Deontae’s head tilted to the side as he took in the scene before him.

She thought about it for a moment, not able to say what she really wanted, which was to crawl into his big strong arms and never leave.

“Just some time,” she sniffled and cleared her throat. “Are we still on for lunch?”

“Of course-”

“Great, see you then!”

Monae breezed right past them and towards her office, and Deontae turned to see M’Baku’s dejected face.

“Wooooooow,” he started with a laugh. “Woooow… you like her don’t you?”

“Keep your voice down,” M’Baku whisper yelled, looking around for any possible prying ears.

“You got good taste, I’ll give you that. Shitty circumstances though.”

“Yeah, tell me about it…” M’Baku’s shoulders slumped as they made their way back to his office.

--------

“You have barely touched your burrito.”

Monae looked down at her plate and noticed he was right.

“I guess my appetite isn't too big today, too much on my mind.” She sighed and pushed her plate forward.

“I know it might be weird, but as your friend you can always talk to me about anything.” M’Baku knew he didn’t want to talk about Derrick, but he would do anything to make her feel better.

She looked at him for a few moments before she began. “I don’t know how much you heard, but Derrick got a job in LA and wants me to move with him. He’s always hated that I work here for some reason...I just wish he would have discussed it with me first, you know?” She twisted the ring on her finger and bit her lip nervously. M’Baku nodded to show he was listening, but his eye kept being drawn down to her ring. That little silver band with the fancy rocks in it that meant so much to her.

“He just- he means well, he does. He wants what’s best for me-”

“But should that not include what you want?” he asked in earnest, trying very hard to remain friendly. “If he is to be your husband, ask yourself if you can marry a man who doesn’t listen-”

“M’Baku”

“-to what you say you want. What do you see in him? He treats you like a child-”

“M’Baku, stop! Ok, I didn’t ask for this. It’s more complicated than that.”

“It doesn’t have to be…”

She looked at him as a tear escaped.

“It’s been seven years M’Baku, I can’t just throw that away!”

“So you would rather waste a lifetime being miserable all over seven measley years?”

She stared at him with a silent fury in her eyes.

“I knew this was a bad idea.” Monae called the waiter to bring her a to-go box and her check, refusing to let M’Baku pay for her this time.

“Monae, I-”

“Don't bother. I’ve had enough men telling me what to do for one day.”

M’Baku had never meant to make her feel that way, and as she left the restaurant his heart sank.

The walk back to the Center was a blur, as was the rest of the day. M’Baku couldn’t get her words out of his head. He decided to give the one person he knew he could come to with this a call, hoping they would answer.

“My son, how is America treating you? You have not seen any police have you?”

“Just in passing, mama.”

“That is still too close for my liking with those killing machines they carry everywhere. Are you eating? You look thin. I will send some stew with the king next time he goes to the Center.”

M’Baku smiled warmly at his mother’s unnecessary concern. He was eating just fine and hadn’t lost a single pound, but he would never in his right mind turn down his mother’s cooking.

“Thank you mama, I would love that. How are things?”

“I will be happy when you come back and I can retire again. The council is driving me crazy. This week the big issue is snow bank height. Can you imagine? Arguing over damn snow banks.”

He chuckled, missing his mother’s animated voice.

“Now, you have not called me all week. What is wrong?” she abruptly changed the subject.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

She sucked her teeth and he could already picture the look on her face. It’s the same one he gets when he senses bullshit.

“M’Baku, I raised you. I know you, now talk to me.”

He let out a deep sigh, contemplating how much he should tell her.

“I met a woman here, but she is engaged to a man who does not treat her well.”

“Engaged? M’Baku I raised you better than that-”

“I know mama, but I did not know at first. Apparently here the women wear rings to signify they are betrothed.”

“Just the women?”

“Yes, it is quite an odd culture.”

“I can see that...well son if you truly have feelings for her and this man does not treat her the way she should be treated, what would it hurt to make your feelings known?”

“That is the thing, mama. She knows, we-” he sighed, knowing this wouldn’t go over well. “We kissed.”

There was silence on the other end of the line before a slow chuckle turned into a belly laugh, leaving him confused and speechless.

“Mama, are you done?”

“I am sorry son,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You just reminded me so much of your baba. You know, we were in a similar situation. He was in your shoes, and I was the young lady. What is her name?”

“Monae.”

“Such a pretty name, I am sure she is just as beautiful.”

“Even more so.”

“Hm, I bet. Anyways, long story short, your baba stole me from my betrothed.”

“He what?!”

“I was supposed to marry Hodari-”

“The head fisherman?”

“That is the one. Our parents had arranged for us to be married, but my heart was not in it. Then along came your baba, all tall and handsome, and I never looked back. My point is, if it is meant to be then it will be, but you cannot just give up if you truly think she feels the same way you do.”

“I do not want to give up, mama, but I do not want to push her away either.”

“Then let her come to you.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @devnicolee

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #m'baku #m'baku x oc #black!oc #m'baku's love

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years

Text

My Only Light

Read on AO3

The first time he says it it’s in a whisper of breath in the cold light of a dreary grey morning. The night before had been no less than a shitshow. In hindsight making a deal with a demon named Dolo, which quite literally means deceit hadn’t been his best thought out plan to date.

But John Constantine isn’t exactly known for always thinking before he acts.

He’d thought he was done for, with the demons six scaly hands wrapped around his throat, his arms immobilized to his side he figured it was finally going to happen. Finally, a demon would get its way and drag him down to hell where he belongs.

And just as he felt the flicking flames of the underworld truly touching his feet, not just the pull that usually haunts him, she showed up. Zatanna in all her magical glory stepped through a portal and blasted the demon with a hit of swirling angry red magic so hard it sent John flying back a few feet as well.

Likely an intentional move considering how upset he knew she’d be that he didn’t just call her in the first place.

Just like that the ground wasn’t swallowing him up and Dolo was nothing more than a pile of dust. John’s vision was blurred and darkened as he attempted to stand, falling back to the ground after even the slightest movement. Whether it was from the blood loss at his neck or the literal hellfire he’d felt he’s not sure, but everything is hazy and dark around him until Zatanna is hovering over him a burst of light in fishnets and a top hat.

“Wasn’t sure you’d get my message,” he said looking up at her forcing his eyes to stay open and look at her shine. His voice came out broken and a little wet, he’s pretty sure there was some internal bleeding involved. Zatanna healed him quickly and sighed once she was finished.

“Of course I did,” Zatanna said looking at him a little fond, a little sad and far more tender than he deserves. “Your fail safe could use an update though,” she added voice much angrier referring to his longtime magical fail safe that sends a message to her whenever he finds himself in a no escape, likely moments away from dying situation he should have called her in the first place for help with. “Maybe don’t make it so I get the message when the claws are already about to decapitate you.” Her voice gets softer with each word.

That was last night, she’s lying in bed beside where he’s propped up on the headboard now her face peaceful not a bit of anger or sadness curling at the edge of her lips. A streak of sunlight peeks through the clouds and the tattered curtains of the hotel room they’d settled in for the night cascading over her bare shoulder. She’s so bright, even exhausted in a trashy hotel room, and John can’t believe he gets to have her.

He reaches out a hand ghosting lightly over her hair brushing it back from her face.

“I’ve walked in darkness my entire life. And I’ve been at home there. But you, Zee? You’ve always been my light,” he says quietly hoping not to wake her. It’s so quiet and still in the room that for moment or two he thinks he’s succeeded until she grumbles lightly shifting closer to him tossing an arm over his waist and tugging, a signal for him to lay back down.

“Wax poetic later, sleep now,” she says eyes never opening. John snorts and slides back down letting himself be fully embraced in her arms and in her light.

Pitch black basements in houses that may or may not be haunted are generally a bad thing, so of course John is currently in one tugging at a light string that’s so old it breaks after one failed pull. The light pouring in from the flickering halls his only guide.

Luckily he moves well in darkness, metaphorically and literally.

He and Zatanna have been investigating a house as a courtesy for an old friend of her father’s. The old woman thought the place was haunted, Zatanna was more convinced the woman was just lonely and living in a house with creaky boards.

Usually he would agree, but when the basement door slams shut from a gust of wind and locks him in he’s not so certain.

He rushes up the stairs tripping in the darkness over a few of them before banging on the door.

“Zee!” he shouts tugging on the door handle the thing not even budging. There’s nothing but silence on the other side, Zatanna likely still in the attic where she’d been headed when he bounded down the steps of the dingy basement. He knocks on the door a few more times shouting her name unsuccessfully.

He huffs and pulls a lighter from his pocket flicking it to life and using it to brighten the space around him when a noise catches his attention to the left. He goes down the few short stairs and points his only light source towards the corner when he hears the sound again from the other side of the room. Another gust of cold air seeps across his skin and knocks out his light.

The sound moves faster now coming from both sides as he frantically attempts to relight his lighter, the damn thing not cooperating. When something rushes across his foot and another something taps at the back of his leg he’s not proud of it and he’ll deny it till his dying day, but he yelps loudly and a little higher pitched than he thought he was capable of scrambling towards the stairs.

The door swings open with a particularly forceful tug as soon as he hits the second step, Zatanna standing there a look of concern on her face and a flashlight in hand shining down on him.

“My literal damn light in the darkness,” he breathes out in relief looking down and seeing nothing nearby that could have been touching him anymore. She smirks at the light comment and pushes the door open further, ensuring it doesn’t jam again.

“I heard a scream,” she says moving the light up and down his body seemingly satisfied that he’s unharmed when she comes down a few steps and moves the flashlight around the basement.

“It was a yelp,” he defends jumping up to the same step she’s on and a little shamefully hiding behind her his hands on her waist. “Something’s down here, luv.” He says it low like he’s trying not to anger whatever it might be.

She shifts the flashlight around the floor when the sound that had startled him in the first place comes again. Two mice scuttle into view looking at them wide eyed for a moment before scurrying off to another corner.

Zatanna purses her lips poorly holding in her laughter.

“Shush,” he says in a huff pointedly stomping up the stairs, Zatanna no longer bothering to try and hold in her giggles. It’s a delightful sound, but he’s just grumpy enough to keep stomping away determined to prove the house is haunted just to save his dignity.

It isn’t.

The chilly November air swirls around them as they huddle close walking through Robinson Park after an all expenses paid dinner courtesy of Gotham’s favorite Bachelor in a bat suit. Gotham City is a bit of a hellhole in many respects, but this park is well kept thanks to the donations of Wayne Industries and one of the cities finer and safer points.

It’s been a long two weeks working with the bat and this is the first night they’ve had to themselves since arriving. They’ll be gone by tomorrow back to San Francisco where they settle these days, it’s the most stable John’s felt in years, maybe in his entire life with her. It feels good.

They settle on a bench John instantly tossing one arm over Zatanna’s shoulders and pulling her close. He uses his other hand to look for a smoke.

“Fuck,” John grumbles patting at all his pockets and coming up empty.

Zatanna reaches into the inside pocket of her own jacket, a black jean jacket covered in patches that’s too big on her and actually used to be John’s once upon a time. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes and shakes them in front of his eyes.

“Did you really think,” she says pulling one from the pack and sticking it between her lips. “That I didn’t know you keep a pack in that pot on the balcony that’s empty because we keep killing all the plants we put in there?” she smirks at him around the cigarette pulling the lighter from the pack and flicking it to life.

“I took the pack out in the hopes that we might successfully plant something in there and in the knowledge that you’re always running out and losing full packs when we’re working,” she continues as she puts the flame to the end of the cigarette.

“You know me so damn well,” he says with his own answering smirk. Once the cigarettes lit she puts the pack and lighter back in her pocket and takes a slow drag. John would never wish his nasty habit on her permanently, but he won’t act like it isn’t one of the sexiest visions in the world to see the smoke curl from her dark painted lips a bit of her magic at the edges of it.

She smiles, genuine at him as she pulls the cigarette away and holds it out for him. He ducks his head quickly placing a light kiss on the two fingers that hold the cigarette before putting his lips around it and pulling back ensuring the lit end doesn’t brush her fingers.

“Too damn well,” she says with a roll of her eyes dropping her hand. He takes his own drag loving the burn of it in his lungs and the sweet taste of her lipstick staining the end.

“My light always with a light for me,” he smiles pulling the cigarette away and placing a quick kiss on her hair.

She rolls her eyes again before settling back under his arm and into his side.

“You get cornier and cornier the older we get,” she says curling a hand into his trench coat for warmth. John just laughs around another drag of his cigarette not arguing the point.

John wakes up screaming.

In an instant Zatanna is pouring into the bedroom her hands on his shoulders, a steadying grip grounding him back to reality.

“You’re okay,” she says soothingly as he gets control of his breath. “You’re okay.”

He looks down at himself covered in sweat and then up at her a vision of goddess-hood in a white t-shirt, dark pants, suspenders and sharp dark eyeliner. Just one look at her settles his frayed nerves a bit more than anything else could.

He doesn’t remember the nightmare, but it must have been a doozy to leave him in the state he is. He does however remember the night before, or parts of it, and winces.

It’d been the anniversary of losing little Astrid at Newcastle, a hard day any year, a day that reminds him of his failures and of how he’s never quite good enough in the end. One drink in her memory had turned into two, which turned into shots and a pool game gone wrong which resulted in the ache in his jaw from the punch he vaguely remembers receiving after trying to haul off with some bloke’s entire wallet. He’d been thrown out of two pubs before some bartender had finally taken pity on him and cut him off, stealing his phone and calling the first number they’d found.

Years ago he’d put numbers before Zatanna’s number to make sure she was always be at the top of his contacts just in case, instead of dead last as she would be alphabetically. It’s one of those moments though were he wishes he’d changed that; wishes that she didn’t have to deal with him like this.

“I’m sorry,” he says grimacing a bit as her hands drop from his shoulders. She looks a little stunned at the words, which just makes them even truer. He fucks up pretty frequently and doesn’t apologize enough if she looks surprised to hear it said out loud. It’s something he needs to work on.

“John,” she starts softly, all kindness and understanding he doesn’t deserve in this moment at all so he cuts her off.

“No, I got fucked up last night and I shouldn’t have and the responsibility of making sure I didn’t drink myself to death shouldn’t have landed on you,” he says firmly looking directly into her bright eyes, almost too bright to look into with his head screaming a headache from every angle. “So, I’m sorry.”

Usually she would have been with him on the day keeping him from doing as he had done the night before, but he’d done a number on their relationship a few months prior and they’ve been distant. The fact that she showed up when a random bartender told her to come pick up his drunk ass means more than he’ll ever be able to express and as usual is more than he deserves.

“You’re forgiven,” she says with a small sad smile. She reaches out pushing his sweaty bangs back from his forehead. “Go wash up, I made one of your good old-fashioned hangover cure breakfasts.” She stands up from where she’d settled on the edge of the bed and pats him on the shoulder as she goes.

The shower helps and the breakfast, despite it nearing two in the afternoon, refreshes him even more. He’ll always be grateful that despite being a stout vegetarian she took the time to learn his hangover breakfast recipes back when they first got together. Zatanna just sits beside him the whole time sipping a coffee quietly and scrolling through her phone.

“Thank you,” he says eventually after pushing his empty plate away. She sits her phone down and turns to him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she shrugs always so damn good and humble. She deserves everything, a simple thanks doesn’t even begin to cover it, but it’s all he has.

“I really do,” he says running a hand across his jaw, the stubble reminding him he should have shaved too while he was washing the sadness and sweat away in the shower. “I’ve been shit these last few months and I know it, but you showed up anyways, so thank you.”

She smiles reaching out and tapping her fingers lightly against his knuckles.

“You’d do the same for me, no matter how shit you are,” she says with a smile and for the first time in days John actually feels good. She moves to pull away, but John stops her flipping his hand and tangling their fingers together.

“I know you hate it when I say it, but you really are my light Zee, more than I ever deserve,” he says squeezing her hand once before letting go. She pulls back and collects his plate pausing next to him as she does. She leans down pressing a kiss into his hair.

“You deserve more than you think,” she says before stepping away and disappearing into the kitchen.

He doesn’t believe it for a second, but he appreciates the sentiment from the best person he’ll ever know anyways.

It’s hell and fire surrounding them again and he’s so goddamn angry.

Things were finally settling into place with the world, with his ever-improving mindset and most importantly and selfishly with them. Now he’s standing in front of a burning pentagram that will take him to hell and he may never come back, Zatanna standing in front of him begging him to not do this alone.

The window of the bar they’ve taken over to do this in bursts, glass shattering all around, a bit cutting at the exposed skin of his hand and neither of them even flinch too focused on one another and the reality of what’s about to happen settling in, hyper aware of the argument they’re about to have and he’s too stubborn to lose. Outside there are shouts of fear and fighting, somewhere every friend they have is fighting every hell beast and monster that’s slithering out of a crack in the universe raining hell down on earth trying to contain it to Metropolis alone before John seals it from the other side.

“It’s the only way, Zee,” he says for at least the fifth time. She knows, but he understands her position he’d be fighting the same fight if it was her making a choice that would likely end with her death.

There’s only three people on their side with magic strong enough to seal an exposed gate to hell, she’s too important to the world and to him to be the one to do it and Doctor Fate is too self-important to do it, which just leaves him.

It’s not the hero moment he asked for, but it’ll have to do to really earn that Justice League membership Bats handed over months ago that had a lot of existing members scratching their heads.

“We can figure out something else,” she says weakly. “I can go with you, we’re stronger together.”

It’s true in a lot of senses and in theory for this particular situation, but this is a one-way ticket most likely and she’s too damn valuable to test a theory.

John steps forward fingers gripping around the suspenders she’s wearing and tugging her close.

“There’s no other way, my love,” he says pressing his forehead to hers. Her hands come up lightly holding onto his bent elbows. “I can close it and you can save the world.” He sighs and moves forward gathering her up in his arms and holding her close. Her arms lock tightly around his waist like she can hold him here with just this.

She could. He can’t let her though.

“I love you,” he says, taking what might be his last chance to tell her everything he feels about her. It’s easier to say it this way with her bright eyes not staring into his and making him change his mind about this. “You are the light in every darkness I’ve ever faced, you’re the whole damn world to me.”

Zatanna’s arms squeeze around him tighter as he pulls back. He leans in kissing her for all he’s worth, pouring every apology he’s never given her, every word he’s said and hasn’t, every touch he’ll miss and every touch that set him alight into it and god does she give right back. She doesn’t need to say a thing back, he feels it all in her kiss. It feels like a goodbye, he hates that it probably is.

“Fuck this,” she says wetly once he pulls away. She doesn’t move to stop him this time though, even if her hands twitch at her sides desperately wanting to.

John chuckles and smirks stepping backwards into the pentagram and flames with his arms spread wide.

“I emphatically agree,” he says before the flames take over and his screams begin. The last thing he sees before the pain takes over is Zatanna wiping away tears a sad laugh escaping her lips at his theatrics.

Miracle of all miracles that can only be explained because of the existence of Zatanna Zatara he makes it back. It takes three days which feels like three hundred years for him, but somehow she finds a loophole, sneaks in and gets him home without so much as a hellhound following them out.

He sleeps for five days straight after she portals them into their shared room in the House of Mystery. When he wakes he’s disappointed to find no get well soon bouquets from Superman and then is hit with a split second of wondering if he dreamed it all when he notices it’s dark outside and Zatanna is nowhere to be found.

But before any fear can overtake him she’s pushing the door open with her hip a tray of food in her hands and she freezes.

“There you are,” she says hopeful and lovely, choking on the words just enough that it would go unnoticed by anyone but him. She sits the tray down on the vanity before throwing herself into his arms on the bed.

“Here I am,” he says disbelieving he’s back here, in this bed with this woman, the only place he ever wants to be. They stay that way for a while just holding onto each other before she eventually leans back.

She looks tired hair pulled up in a swaying ponytail, not a smidge of makeup or jewelry on wearing one of his old torn to shreds Mucous Membrane t-shirts and leggings that look like the galaxy. She’s never looked more beautiful; she’s never been more the personification of the light of his life merely for the fact she’s here and this is real and he’s not dead or stuck in hell running for his very soul for eternity.

He says just that aloud.

“You’re always saying that, John,” she says brushing a hand through his hair briefly before sliding down to settle her fingers lightly on his collarbone just above the tattoo on his chest she’d picked out the design for what feels like a lifetime ago when they were twenty and filled with light. She held onto hers though, even if he lost his along the way. “That I’m your light and I don’t doubt it, but have you ever stopped to consider for a moment that you’re mine too?”

John freezes. He hadn’t. The thought had never once crossed his mind and if it weren’t for the fact that he’s stone cold sober right now and more alert and aware than usual he’d question if he even heard her correctly. As far as he’s concerned John is all shadows and the darkness at the end of a tunnel with only dead ends, he’s no light, no beacon of anything, especially not to the woman who’s always been the glowing candle in his undercurrent of nothingness, the flashlight in every cave he’s been brutally tossed into.

The concept is completely implausible. Yet, here she is saying it.

“I know you’ll never believe it,” she goes on and continues running her fingers delicately along his collarbone. “But it’s the truth, for all the mistakes you make and the mess you tend to bring with you, you’re the most consistent thing in my life. You’re always there when I need you, you’re always the first person I want to be there, you may think you’re all darkness and monsters, but to me that’s never been the case.”

She drops her hand and grabs one of his holding it between both of her own. They’re a little cold, just like always, a stark contrast to the burning scorch his skin always holds.

“You’re my light as much as I’m yours, keep that in mind for me next time you step into a hell portal on a suicide mission will you?” she requests with a light teasing tone. He hears the words beneath it, don’t you dare die on me.

He can’t make any promises on that front and he’s frankly so stunned by the admission he can’t find the words to articulate it, so he settles for moving forward kissing her soft and slow, a complete opposite to the last kiss they’d shared all desperate and filled with farewells. This one is slow and tender saying with his slightly chapped lips and warm tongue that he’ll stay as long as hell allows him.

“I’ll do my best,” he says eventually long after the kiss and a few dozen more his back pressed to her chest her fingers carding through his hair as he trails light paths with his own hands up and down her now bare thighs.

“Good,” she says tugging a little at the ends of his sandy hair understanding what he means. For the first time in a long time he feels like maybe he does have some light left in him too.

#my fic #johnzee #john constantine #zatanna zatara

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queerbutstillhere · 4 years

Text

12. We dated back in highschool then you moved away but now you're back in town.

(for @legitpumpkin an AU in which the Kent's and Wayne's live in the same neighborhood of whatever town you'd like to pick.)

"Hey, did you hear the news?"

Jon looked up, eyebrows knitted together, his tongue was poking out of his mouth from his hyper concentration.

"What?" He asked absently, looking away from his brother back to his laptop, returning to reading his article.

Kon said something about Tim and someone coming back.

"Cool," Jon responded in that same absent tone.

"Jon, you literally did not hear a word I just said did you?"

Jon just shook his head, quickly deleting and rewriting a section.

"Leave him alone, Kon, he has deadlines to meet," Chris inputted from where he was laying on the sofa beside Jon, at an awkward angle so his feet weren't on the younger man.

"Fine. Pardon me for trying to tell him that his former lover is back in town."

"What?" Jon asked, interest mildly peaked now.

"Damian's back home for the summer."

The rapid click-clacking of Jon's keys completely stopped, and he blinked at Kon.

"And Tim says he's thinking about moving back to the States completely."

"Oh-" Jon breathed out.

"You should go talk to him," Chris suggested, pushing at his knee.

"Yeah.... God it's been what, five, six years?"

"Six. Five, since you guys broke up."

Jon hummed, returning to clicking away at his computer.

"Are you still in love with him?" Chris asked, looking at his phone.

"I don't know? It's been five years, Chris, I haven't seen him except maybe in passing once or twice. We don't really talk except occasionally commenting on each other's social media posts."

"Who?"

They all looked up when Lois walked in.

"Damian. He's back home," Kon supplied.

"Oh! Yes. Bruce just invited us over for dinner, actually."

"He what?" All three boys exclaimed at once.

"Yup! At six, which means you three need to be showered and wearing nice clothes!"

"Oh yes, how dare we show up to our childhood best friends house in our jorts and tanktops."

"Kon, we all know Dick would absolutely destroy you for wearing jorts," Chris said with a snort. "I'll go take first shower since busy body over here is still working."

"Look! Once I get this article turned in, I'm officially on break, but this is a pretty big story so I need to make sure it's perfect before I send it to the editors," Jon defended himself to empty air, as Kon and Chris had both already left.

He sighed and returned to typing.

An hour later, everyone was clean and dressed and they all took the short walk down the block to the Wayne's house together. The Wayne residence was the largest, and loudest building in the neighborhood. There were always people coming and going, and always children around, despite the fact that none of Bruce's kids had their own families yet. They could hear yelling inside before they even got to the front door, and Jon smiled at the fond memories that hit him. Clark stepped up and knocked on the door, and within a minute, the door was yanked open by Dick Grayson.

"Hey guys!" He exclaimed with a bright grin, immediately hugging Clark, and then Lois, and then all three of the boys.

"Hello, Dick."

"Come on in! Dad and Alfie are just finishing dinner, I think the others got kicked into the living room at some point, they were being too noisy."

"Aren't they always?" Jon asked with a smile, his writers mind already crafting out how he would report on this evening.

"Hey, now, Jonno," Dick said with a laugh, having to reach up to ruffle Jon's hair. "Man I miss when you were only this tall."

He held a hand down by his waist, shaking his head at the 6"2" man and tsking.

"Anyway! Come on!"

"I'm gonna pop into the kitchen," Lois said, and disappeared. Clark hesitated before following.

The boys just followed Dick deeper into the house where yelling and barking was coming from the family room. They entered and discovered Cassandra and Jason wrestling on the floor. Tim and Damian sat on the furniture, and Ace running around barking in dismay.

"Guys!" Dick protested, crossing his arms.

Cass let go of Jason, who rolled to his feet, sticking his tongue out at her. She immediately blew a raspberry before flipping up.

"Kon!" Tim exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and running to hug his friend.

Jon however, had made eye contact with Damian. And hot. Damn. Jon met Damian when he was 10. He had seen Damian grow up, had personally witnessed the awkward teen years where Damian had been growing into his own body and face. Hell he had dated Damian through the tail end of it. He knew Damian was an attractive person - look at his parents, it was the only logical thing to happen - but he had some how gotten hotter???

Damian would be around twenty-six by now, he was tall, maybe not as tall as Jon, but he couldn't quite be certain from this distance. His face was angular and defined, not quite the sharp features of his father, but more delicate and feminine like Talia. Everything about him screamed neatness, from his trimmed eyebrows, and clean shaven face, to his carefully styled hair and clothing. His hair was a different style the Jon last remembered seeing, shaved short on the sides and longer in the back, styled in a quiff. He was wearing black jeans and a button down, and Jon could see a gold necklace hanging around his throat. His beautiful, full lips curled into a soft smile as he scanned over Jon, before lazily pushing up to his feet. Oh yeah, Jon was definitely still taller.

"Hello, Jonathan," he said with a sweet smile, walking over.

His legs were still long and lanky, and he still walked with an insane amount of grace, a habit he had picked up from when he used to do ballet.

"Hi," Jon breathed out, finding himself completely awestruck.

Damian walked right up to him, hugging him gently. Jon immediately hugged him back, noting that he smelled like vanilla and citrus, but not in a bad way.

"It's good to see you," Damian said softly. His accent had thickened significantly in the past few years, and damn that was hot too.

"Yeah, oh my God, it's been forever." Jon pulled back to look at Damian again, his hand lingering on his arm.

Damian smiled up at him, his green eyes flicking over Jon's face. "Five years, really. Not forever."

"Okay, no, but it is a long time. Where all have you been at?" Jon asked, letting Damian push him out of the room where their siblings were talking loudly.

"I've been all over. Finished my schooling in Switzerland, and then spent sometime traveling around Europe. Then I've been in the Middle East with mother for the past few years. I enjoyed the traveling, but I think I'm ready to be back home."

"Wow. You'll have to tell me all about it!" Jon said, eyes wide with amazement.

Damian chuckled, nodding. "I'm sure we'll have time. You're a journalist now, no?"

"Yeah! Just hit my one year mark with the company I work for right now," Jon said with a proud grin.

"That's good, do you enjoy it?"

"Oh yeah, it always keeps me on my toes. I very rarely get bored with it."

"Okay! Dinner is ready!"

Jon jolted with the suddenness of Bruce's yell. Damian chuckled, looking past Jon at Bruce who was waving them over.

Dinner was nice and loud and noisy and Jon was hit with this painful realization of "Holy Shit Maybe I Am Still In Love With Damian" and he desperately needed to tell his brothers this development, but he didn't know how to do it slyly. So he just sat there in gay turmoil for a whole hour of a dinner. Then, while the others were heading to the living room, Damian snagged his hand and pulled him to the front door, clipping a leash on Ace and then walking outside. Jon followed silently, curious what was going on.

"Do you remember when we used to just go on walks around the neighborhood?"

"I remember sneaking over to your house a couple times in the middle of the night just to go on those walks," Jon answered, watching Ace sniff a bush. "And I remember getting my ass whooped the week my mom found out."

"And yet you kept doing it all through highschool," Damian said with an amused glance towards him.

"What do you expect. I was young, dumb and in love."

Damian chuckled, glancing down the road before crossing it.

"So, fill me in on what you've been up too since I left for Switzerland."

"Oh. Nothing wild, finished college, got my major in journalism, and minor in psychology. Got my job the same month as graduation, moved out in August, and I've just kinda been focusing on work since."

Damian hummed. "You always have been a bit of a busybody."

"Hey!"

Damian just grinned and gently nudged Jon.

"So, shall I just ask the awkward question?"

"What awkward question."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh!" Jon felt his cheeks heat up and then he shrugged. "No, not right now. I dated a few guys in college, but not anyone for a while."

Damian hummed and nodded.

"Uh. What about you?"

"No. With all the traveling, and living in the Middle East..."

Jon nodded in understanding, pausing as Ace darted in front of him. Without thinking he took the leash from Damian and let Ace smell the along the other side of the sidewalk.

"So what are you going to be doing, now that you're back? Working for your dad?"

"No, probably not. I'm going to resume my modeling career, and I'll be working as a environmental ambassador, just little things like that."

"Oh, cool."

Damian hummed, putting his hands in his pockets. They crossed the street and started to head back home.

"So we're totally gonna start hanging out then, right?"

"Well of course, you're one of my best friends," Damian said with a smile.

"Even though I'm your ex?"

"Jon, dating you was some of the best years of my life."

"Oh," Jon said softly, feeling his face heat up.

Damian chuckled and shook his head, smiling at Jon fondly.

Oh yeah, Jon still had feelings for Damian.

Send me a prompt!

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definitelynottony · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could you do prompts #20 and #43??? :)

Of course! This definitely turned into something way longer than I thought it would have lol. The whole story is kind of Billy's way of comforting Steve after their fight but then I added a little bit more at the end to really imply the prompt. Hope you enjoy it!

#20: "How the fuck do you keep getting in my house?"

#43: comfort after a fight

Steve suddenly woke from yet another good dream turned bad. Body hot and slick from sweat, not sure if that's from the good part or the bad parts though. He even left his bat by his bed tonight for some comfort but it didn't help. Maybe it's due to the fact that he had that fight with Nance today? Or cause the kids have been talking about all that D&D crap lately? Or possibly, probably, it's definitely Billy's fault.

Billy Hargrove, god seriously even thinking about him right now sends a chill through Steve. A hurricane in his gut, sets a fire loose in his veins. What he would do if he was here right now, the asshole.

They had that fight only a couple months back now, in November. Ever since then Billy had been, well… Let's just say entirely too friendly. The entire thing left Steve with whiplash. Steve never knew what he was going to get. Some days Billy would ignore him, which would have been fine with Steve. Especially considering he had to get stitches from that damn plate to his head. But it was the other days that got him, those days where Billy would just watch him. Or when he'd corner him when he was alone, in the locker room or in the parking lot. The first time it was to apologize. Whether it was a bat almost crushing his balls or a miraculous change of heart, Billy did apologize to Steve for that night. Said something along the lines of:

"It wasn't anything personal Harrington. I was angry to begin with and you were a pretty punching bag. When you hit back and I saw that fire in ya I- I just got carried away. Okay. I'm sorry, alright?"

Needless to say Steve was so taken aback from the whole outburst that he basically just nodded in understanding. I mean the guy apologized, right? That's what Steve was waiting for (wasn't holding his breath but hopeful?) Plus he sort of just like...complimented him in a weird roundabout way so, yeah. That was that. There was no further discussion, no let's shake hands or let's be friends from now on. Just radio silence for a solid week afterwards.

But then it started, Billy that is. Billy started this new game of cat and mouse, hot and cold. Whatever you want to call it. He drove Steve bonkers with it. In the beginning he waited until he was alone and just started talking. Like they were friends?

"Good game Harrington. You're jump shots were fire today. And your defense game, you're finally planting your feet huh?."

"Uh. Yeah, thanks man. You too I guess, good game."

And that chatter slowly turned into Billy finding him in the hallway:

"Yo Harrington, you dropped this."

"Oh, thanks. Uh, wait this isn't mi-"

Billy had left before Steve finished. Billy handed him a folded note, 'Under bleachers. 1:15'. Steve read it a few times with furrowed brows. This was either the part where Billy finishes the job and kills him or… well Steve didn't have an alternative but at 1:10 he made his way outside to the bleachers. It was his free period so it was either catching up on homework or quenching his curiosity.

"So why exactly am I here?" Steve confronted Billy who was sitting stretch out smoking. He didn't respond to the brunette, just smirked and held out the joint. Steve starred between the roll and Billy but he shrugged and sat beside him and took it.

"I seriously don't get you Hargrove."

"Nothing to get man. Told ya it was nothing personal."

"Yeah but even before that shit you were like, I don't know, hassling me."

"Cause you're fun to mess with princess. You make it too easy man. And the way your face gets, and your eyes get all wide. The shit was priceless pretty boy."

Steve passed the joint back,

"Whatever man. Fuck you."

"That a threat or are you offering Harrington?"

Steve choked on the smoke, eyes like saucers staring at Billy. The blonde smirked with sharp teeth before laughing,

"See, too easy."

"Yeah, no, fuck off man." But Steve kind of laughed too, not that he would admit it. Billy knocked into his shoulder before passing the joint back.

Then that sort of became their thing. Billy would toss his head to Steve in passing or he would stop him and just tease him or compliment him. But that bitterness, the bite that was there before the showdown wasn't there. It was like a completely different person. Or more like Billy was the same person, he just stopped being an ass to Steve. Cause to everyone else, especially Tommy, he was still that brash jerk.

"Hey Harrington! Think with all daddy's money you could just pay people to be your friends instead of being Wheeler's and Byers' little bitch." Tommy H. taunted.

"Seriously Tommy, shut the fuck up." Steve flipped him off trying to walk away from the whole situation.

"Hey Hall! You'd think with a mother like yours you'd have a bigger dick, but I guess you'll just never be half the man she is."

Billy joined Steve's side. That little comment earned him a crowd's worth of 'oo's' and snickers from their peers. Tommy flipped Billy off and tucked his tail. More importantly it earned Billy a smirk and side glance from Steve.

"You didn't have to do that. I know you and Tommy were friends or whatever." Steve stopped when they reached the BMW.

"Didn't do nothing pretty boy. Plus Tommy and I were never friends. Can barely stand that guy man. You, you and me are friends." Billy stated as if he was saying 'the sky is blue' or 'water is wet'. So matter of fact that Steve almost believed him.

"We're not friends though?"

"Wow Stevie, you wound me. I share with you my weed and defend your honor, let you copy my homework and you just toss me aside like the broccoli they give you with Chinese take out."

That sarcasm earned Billy a full on laugh, and it was beautiful. Steve bit his smile back and just shook his head.

"You're actually crazy Hargrove."

"And you're actually gorgeous Harrington."

Steve blinked waiting for the punchline but Billy just kept smirking that sharp grin, licked his lips and Steve totally watched as he did it.

"What…?"

"Thought we were just stating facts amigo."

"Oh, uh… you- you're not so bad yourself? I guess?" Steve floundered but Billy seemed to take it in stride.

"Come on princess. Take me back to your place and I'll ignore your horrible compliment skills and share more of my weed with you."

Billy invited himself and got into Steve's car.

So he guess they were friends now?

Fast forward two months to the present day Steve, sweating and huffing out of a bad dream. A dream that started with him making out nice as can be with his lover, that turned to Nancy yelling at him for being with said lover to Nancy and his boyfriend getting eaten by demidogs. He woke out of the nightmare but it's a bang from downstairs that actually woke him up. So he grabs the nail bat and heads down the staircase. He'd probably be more hesitant if he didn't already have a hunch as to what the noise was, or more appropriately who was making it.

"That you Hargrove?" Steve squinted his eyes in the darkness of his kitchen before switching on the light.

"Yeah it's me pretty boy, don't cream your pants."

"Dude, I could have killed you."

"Yeah, you say that every time man. But, like, your catchphrase is getting kind of old fast especially since you haven't actually killed me yet."

"Well maybe if you stopped sneaking into my damn house I wouldn't have to keep saying it! This is like the fifth time Billy! How the fuck do you keep getting in my house?"

"It really ain't that hard princess. Those locks on the windows ain't much ya'know. Just takes a pocket knife and some lean muscles."

"You're serious? You know you're literally confessing to breaking and entering."

"Didn't break anything."

"What was that bang then?"

"That was your care package."

"Care- what? Billy why did you bring me a fucking care package at two in the morning?" Steve asked with little patience.

"Jesus. I just wanted to be a good fucking boyfriend and comfort you man. Heard you and Wheeler had a fight earlier at lunch. Figured you'd be all bent out of shape about it."

And they might have only been together for a month now but Billy seems to get Steve so well. He sighed before leaning the bat against the wall.

"So what did you bring me?" He grinned crowding into Billy's space. Billy wrapped his arms around Steve's trimmed waist.

"Me, I'm your care package."

"God, I need to get better locks." Steve groaned into Billy shoulder.

"Or you can just give me some keys."

"Not happening Hargrove." He lifted his head just to roll his eyes at the blonde.

"What, you don't trust me? That's-"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Mmm- make me princess."

"I thought you said you came here to make me feel better."

"Oh I am. I'm gonna make you feel so good baby."

Billy growled low, that heat resettled into Steve's body. It hypnotized Steve, forced him to surge into a heated kiss that Billy instantly returned.

"Well what are you waiting for? You know the way around Hargrove."

#mywritings #prompt ask #reply #Harringrove #harringrove fanfic #harringrove au #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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floatservices · 4 years

Text

wrong numbers/right answers

iwaizumi hajime/reader wc: 3.9k

When Hajime had started catching feelings for the mystery number, he'd rationalised that it could never be you. Slowly but surely, his mystery texter had been getting him out the slump Iwaizumi had been feeling over his unrequited feelings, and instead of wondering about you, he was wondering when the next mystery number text would come.

But now you're her and she's you and his brain is going to explode. He doesn't have enough brain cells for this.

Curse this stupid, stinking crush.

“You've been on that damn phone for, what, 30 minutes now?” Iwaizumi growls, waving Oikawa's less than impressive test score across said boy’s face. “What are you, texting a new girlfriend?”

“Iwa-chan, I'm flattered you think I have a new girlfriend!” Oikawa’s ecstatic, typing with one hand and snatching away the sheet away with the other. “But no, I'm just trying to have a good time with our favorite classmate,” Oikawa metaphorically dangles you in front of him, and smirks as his friend’s eyes widen. “Oho, I’ve got your attention now, have I?”

Iwaizumi wrinkles his nose, trying to get the test back. “Shut up, shittykawa. If I knew her better, I'd apologize to her because she has to deal with the likes of you.”

The spiker makes a wild lunge for the test paper, because they came to his house to study, not so his disgraceful excuse of a best friend could tease him about a girl, but Oikawa leans just out of reach, his long arms stretching as far as they could.

“You wound me, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa chuckles, shuffling the paper under the cushion he was sitting on. “My test score wasn’t that bad, anyways-“

“You call a 52% a good grade?!”

“Well, it's a pass, isn’t it? I have more important things on my mind, anyways, like beating Ushiwaka, texting my favorite girl in class, don’t you have something to do? Oh, wait! I forgot that you were-”

“Shittykawa," Iwaizumi cuts in, a seething expression on his face, but Oikawa pays no mind. "If you finish that sentence-“

“-Socially awkward! You can’t even talk to her without blushing! But funny how that doesn’t happen when you talk to anyone else like that, hmm, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime gets up and launches himself across the chabudai, tackling Oikawa, a fist raised.

It’s 8am when Iwaizumi gets a text.

From: ??? To: You rinrin this is you right!?? buddy???!! pls send me ur jpnese lit hw I NEED HELP otherwise tatsuya-sensei will have me impaled bro my entrails will be sacrificed to whoever the hell Yamada Kai was, helpppp!

There’s a string of different crying emojis after that, which Iwaizumi finds adorable. He doesn’t know who this is, but it’s obvious that the poor guy went to Aoba Johsai. The woman who taught Japanese Literature was famous around the school for being a harsh marker and a harsher teacher style. They’d been studying Yamada’s works so far, and Iwaizumi expects whoever sent it was panicking- it was 8, school started 8:30, and English was their second lesson of the day (or it was for tomorrow, because Classes 3-4 didn’t have Literature today, but Iwaizumi assumes it’s today, otherwise they wouldn’t be this distraught.)

He glances at his watch- he had a few minutes to spare. He fishes his work out his bag, and he thanks God he's used his best handwriting (Tatsuya-sensei had caused quite the scene photocopying his work last time, showing off to the entire Class-2 how “insufferably illegible” his print was,) hoping whoever was behind the screen could read it. He takes a quick picture of it, making sure it’s not blurry and the script is clear before sending it off and hurrying out of his house.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You [sent: IMG20151219] you’ve got the wrong number but i’m from seijou too. this is the worksheet you mean?

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You aaa i’m so sorry for sending it to the wrong number!

but yes, it is the right one! thank you so much, i owe you one, mystery man!

Oikawa’s waiting for him outside as always, and Iwaizumi deliberately speeds up so he can walk past. Behind him, Oikawa makes a sort of whine from the back of his throat, quickening his pace to fall in next to him.

“What’s gotten you so cheery?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi realizes he’s been smiling. He replaces it with a scowl, quickly shoving his phone in his pocket so Oikawa can’t get anymore curious.

“It’s no thanks to you.” Iwaizumi quips, and Oikawa pouts.

Iwaizumi only risks a reply when he gets to school, because Oikawa Tooru will never shut up if he sees him texting someone that is so obviously a girl.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You how do you know it's a guy..? for all you know i could be a girl, you know.

He gets a reply soon after.

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You well, if you are a girl, i'm sorry!! i didn't mean anything by it... also i kinda assumed you were a guy because of your handwriting.

He should be offended by that, right? Right. He’s offended by it. He's about to defend himself when his phone buzzes with another message.

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You SHIT I'M SO SORRY THAT WAS RUDE TO SAY!! I BET YOU WON'T TALK TO ME ANYMORE

IT'S UNDERSTANDABLE IF YOU DO...

He blinks, an ungraciously amused smile making it's way onto his face. He leaves his phone alone for the school day, because his teacher has just walked in. He figured he'd reply to you after school, just before volleyball.

It's kind of a mistake, because he comes back to 12 more messages, each message reading a variant of "I'm sorry," the amount of sincerity in each message growing as the hours passed by. He figures it's time to ease the stranger out her misery, and begins typing his reply.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You no need to get worked up on it, lmao you planned on talking to me again?

While waiting, he has enough time to go to the clubroom early and change out of his school uniform to his jersey. He's halfway through fixing one half of his laces when his phone pings.

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You it's because i thought i owed you one.... but i guess if you don't want to talk it's okay lol

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You i hope it's not me that offended you this time. i do want to talk. you seem... cool?

He hits the send button, rereads it, and recoils. That sounds awkward.

Iwaizumi starts typing more.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You besides, you don't know me. how are you gonna give back (whatever. i don't know how! you're the one that wants to owe me.) if you don't even know me?

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You won't it be funner if it's a mystery?

i guess... we could help each other out! anytime we need hw help we just call each other, like a private help line.

(also, why the question mark? of course i'm cool!)

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You i think that sounded less creepy in your head.

(sure, you're cool. [heavy sarcasm, if you can't tell.])

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

is that a no?

(rude!)

Iwaizumi stares at the screen. Well, he didn't really mind. And whoever this was sounded pretty trustworthy, and not a random creep that pretended to be a Seijou student in their free time. His time to deliberate is cut short, because Oikawa slams the clubroom doors open, singing a Christmas carol Iwaizumi didn't recognise, along with Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who were discussing what kind of forfeit Oikawa had to pay today if he didn't set as well as he should; ramen or oden?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You fuck why not

i'll be looking forward to... being helped out? bye.. i'll talk later.

my best friend is here and i'm not ready for him to annoy me straight to satan's asscrack.

Iwaizumi whips the phone away from Oikawa's line of vision, only letting him see his asscrack remark. (It backfired, because Oikawa spends all of the time from putting his shoes on to the start of practice whinging.) The boys slowly file out of the clubroom, Kunimi shutting off the lights as the door softly clicks closed.

Iwaizumi's phone lights up in his blazer pocket, a simple "see you later!" on the screen that brightens the whole room up.

___

It's two weeks later when Iwaizumi needs the help he's been promised. He opens up his chat- they'd just been talking last night about Seijou's annual fair, and what they each were going to do.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You hey english is kicking my ass

can you help a me out please

To: You From Crying Emoji lmao ofc !! what do you need help with

i would let u copy my answers but i feel like you actually have to learn english at some point phone-chan lol

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You the english were on crack when they

made up their language i swear

does the sentence "the star shine brightly" work

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

LMFAO

weh that's a trick question

"shone" is for no object and "shined" is for when here's no object. so like shone works for 'light' and shined can be for like

a car headlight

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You what the hell

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao ikr english is crazy

you also forgot the "d" at the end lol

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You that one is on me that's simple

but the other thing isn't. aren't the both shining anyway? what's the point in having two. i hate this devil language i swear

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

if it helps no one really cares and i think

you could get away with either english has a lot of rules and no one follows them sooooo... it's whatever!!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You

try telling that to fukuoda-sensei i swear that guy has a grudge against me or smthn

To: You

From: Crying Emoji lmao WAHAHAHA i had him last year.... he literally hates fun i don't think i've ever seen him smile

good luck with that phone-chan :P

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You

one last question btw

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

ooh okay shoot!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You what's 好きな食べ物は揚げ出し豆腐 in english

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao ...

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You don't tell me you don't know :(

To: You From Crying Emoji lmao phone-chan, if i say i'll make your agedashi tofu for the festival tmrw will you please stop making vague hints towards it for the rest of the night?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You :)

To: You From Crying Emoji lmao the things i do for you, phone chan!

___

"Iwa-chan, don't eat too much." Oikawa says, blinking as he tries to process the sheer amount of beancurd his friend is wolfing down.

"Says the person who hogged all the milk bread once." Iwaizumi retorts, rolling his eyes. "This is one plate of tofu, unlike when you once wasted 2000 yen to buy the school's entire daily stock of milk bread so you could eat it." He pauses to finish another cube of his favourite food. "And school milk bread doesn't even taste that great."

"It was cheap, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa tries to defend himself. "Makki, Matssun, help me out here!"

Matsukawa only shrugs, and when prompted by Oikawa to give a 'real' answer, he sides with Iwaizumi, apologizing sheepishly.

"Sorry to admit it Captain," He chuckles, "But I don't really like school food anyways."

Iwaizumi shoots Oikawa a teasing smirk, and Oikawa's just about to say something when Hanamaki pipes up.

"I like it," Makki makes a non-committal gesture, and Oikawa looks happy with that. "I mean, sure, school food isn't that great but I think the milk bread is the only good thing about it."

"Like striking gold in a coalmine!" Oikawa nods his approval, and Iwaizumi just sighs. Looking around, he spots you out of the corner of his eye, looking as good as usual and serving a few parents and students. He knows he can't call you because he'd end up sweating through his blazer, so he asks another classmate instead.

"Okuhara-kun," He calls, waving to a boy in his class. "Do you know who made the tofu?"

The boy shakes his head. "Whoever it was came early to drop it off. It had a note with it though."

This gets Iwaizumi's attention. She'd left something for him? "Oh? What did it say?"

"Uh- this is an exact quote, by the way- 'Phone-chan, don't you dare!'" Okuhara replies, drawing out quotation marks in the air. When Iwaizumi lets out a loud laugh, he takes it for disbelief.

"Is it... really that funny?" He questions, looking bemused.

Hajime grins. "Not really."

____

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You you didn't even drop any hints!

all you gave me was a note that told me to go away

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao i knew you'd go looking, phone-chan! my intuition is as good as ever!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You unfair. that was like, my best friend's level of unfair.

so unfair that i'm thinking about moving my best friend back to the top of my favourites list :/

That was a bold faced lie. Oikawa had never been on the top of his favourites list: that was reserved solely for Makki.

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao you wound me!

who is this best friend?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You

not telling lol

you'd know who i was then

To: You

From: Crying Emoji lmao spare hint ma’am?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You you didn't give me any!

and you're the one who wanted to keep it a secret in the first place :/

...but fine.

he's on the volleyball team

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao oikawa!!??

To: Crying Emoji lmao

From: You ... :( yeah

see i told you!

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao actually, i don't know the vb team that well. oikawa's one of the only guys i know because he's popular. and loud

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You oh so i’m not popular?

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao aww phone-chan it’s not like that <3 ur popular in my heart :)

Iwaizumi curses at the blush that follows reading that. He will not allow himself to get flustered over that, it was a joke!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You gee thanks

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao besides i still know the third years! i'm just saying i don't know them that well!!

hanamaki, matsukawa and iwaizumi. they're a close friend group, so i expect one of then is you

When he reads his name, he doesn't know whether to deny it completely, or confirm that it's him. Hajime puts his phone down and paces for a bit, wondering if he's fucked up. When he checks his phone again, chewing on his lip, he guffaws at the message they've left.

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao ...judging from how you're not replying, you are.

but since i don't know which one, i'll decide on calling you phone-chan, yeah?

When Iwaizumi met whoever they were, he was gonna give them a lecture of a lifetime about not being a smartass.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You fine, yeah. i am one of them. but now you owe me a hint too!

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

well, i suppose i do!

i'm one of the girls in the class that actually has oikawa's number. he half forced me to give it to him, actually, but it's still been fun talking with him.

(not as much as talking with you, phone-chan!)

and i also totally get why he's annoying.

Iwaizumi feels a tiny bit of jealously bubbling up- irrational, because he's only been texting them for about half a month. His friend's statement about liking talking with him more than Oikawa makes him a little pleased, because people didn't usually pick his pretty best friend over him (selfish, yeah, but he's tired of girls asking him to deliver chocolates to the setter and befriending him in hopes of getting closer to Tooru.)

But girls who had his number? Only the ones Oikawa actually had an interest in.

The grand total of the people in his class with the brunet's number was three, because as courteous and as flirtatiously he acts, he accepts and turns down people normally, and doesn't like hurting girls as much as his playboy rep boasts (Iwaizumi's always liked that about him.) The three girls he knew of consisted of Aoi, his ex, Reina, who unbeknownst to Oikawa at the time, swang the other way, and...

You.

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao i know that aoi, reina and (name) has his number...

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao well, one of them is certainly me!

we're both down to three, phone-chan. even ground!

Iwaizumi feels the world cave in on himself, reading the message over and over. Aoi was a nice guy, but he was also the same brand of pompous that Hajime disliked and Oikawa had found cute. They’d ended it horribly, so Hajime was decidedly not looking forward to the possible outcome that it was him, so he casts away the thought before it can solidify in his mind’s eye. Reina didn’t even like guys, so if you were you…

Huh. His mouth’s gone dry suddenly.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You cool cool

hey i'm gonna head to bed i gotta emotionally prepare for voluntarily walking into japanese lit class with tatsuya sensei on my ass

sorry to cut it short

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao aw don't worry about it phone-chan <3

good night! and see you tmrw, whether we know it or not!!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You sleep well

Iwaizumi curses during the 5th hour of trying to sleep. Curse this stupid, stinking crush.

___

He wishes he hadn't asked. He's fine with his favorite crying emoji user knowing who he is, but knowing that it's you sort of struck a pang in his heart that couldn't be undone. He can't concentrate in class, and though he fights it because Oikawa's caught on to this habit, he finds himself staring at you instead of listening to the teacher. The whole situation was annoying!

First he thinks you're cute but he'd chalked it up to never working out because Oikawa had managed to snag your number. Then Oikawa assures him that it's platonic and they only talk about school work which is, to say the least, bullshit, because Oikawa can't actually text without getting distracted. His best friend has a tendency to rant about volleyball or start gossiping when his phone is within reach, and it's why his study sessions happen with Hajime next to him (and even with him, Oikawa still manages to get his grubby hands on his phone.) His best friend was absolutely up to something, and it had been killing Iwaizumi that he didn't know what it was.

And then he'd gotten that cute, fated, statistically impossible text from a wrong number, and fallen into a cute flirting-but-not-really routine. They were kind, sweet, and willing to help him with trivial things like homework and make him his favorite food.

It was easier not really knowing who it was! That was mean to admit, sure, but even when Hajime had started catching feelings for the mystery number, he'd rationalised that it could never be you. Slowly but surely, his mystery texter had been getting him out the slump he had been feeling over his unrequited feelings, and instead of wondering about you, he was wondering when the next mystery number text would come.

But now you're her and she's you and his brain is going to explode. He doesn't have enough brain cells for this.

Hajime sighs, looking away from you and back to his worksheet. Algebra stares back at him with no mercy. "I have no brain cells." He mutters, amending his thoughts. In the seat next to him, Oikawa chuckles lightly.

"You've got enough to stare at her, though." He whispers, and Hajime feels his blood boiling. "I swear, when the bell rings, I'm going to-"

The teacher clears her throat loudly. "Iwaizumi-san, if you could refrain from speaking until I've finished..."

Iwaizumi feels his hot rage flood into his cheeks as embarrassment instead. "Of course, sorry sensei."

You catch his eye as he averts his eyes from the teacher, and you smile encouragingly. Hajime thinks the knot in his forehead gets worse. He feels himself go hotter, somehow, and quickly goes back to looking at his math equations. Oikawa's still fucking smirking.

"Denial, Iwa-chan."

There's something fishy in the way that Oikawa texted the group chat about getting lunch. Firstly, Oikawa liked western food for whatever reason, and whenever he asked to go out, he would picked a pricey French place. The rest of the team would debate for about 8 minutes before usually settling on a cheap soba place near the town centre. He'd claimed it was for a post-midterms celebration, and since the Christmas holidays had started, they might as well go somewhere altogether, as a team.

But Oikawa's suggested this expensive ramen place (which... alright, it's not like Oikawa never eats Japanese. But he doesn't prefer it, and Hajime is paranoid about whatever plan his best friend has hatched) and instead of shouting at him to lower the price, Makki and Mattsun agree immediately. Iwaizumi knows Makki is broke this week, after having to buy a replacement volleyball for the one they popped while roughhousing, so he doesn't understand why he'd agree to blowing 2000 yen on a single bowl of ramen.

The rest of the third years decline or agree. Iwaizumi thinks this is for plausible deniability, to make him think it's all alright. But when Oikawa @'s him in chat to confirm for the coming Thursday, he grudgingly agrees. He's wanted to try that ramen place for a while, anyway, and he's putting too much thought into this. It was just lunch with the team. It's fine.

Then the coming Thursday rolls around, and he's been standing outside the ramen place for 5 minutes and no-one is here and he's going to kill Oikawa-

To: [crying baby noises] From: You oikawa i swear to god where the fuck is everyone. i'm going to aim every spike in practice to you i swear. yahaba would help me

To: You From: [crying baby noises] WAHAHAHA it's okay iwa-chan, someone else you like much better than our sweaty volleyball team is coming ☆⌒(ゝ。∂)

To: [crying baby noises] From: You die in a ditch

To: You From: [crying baby noises] you won't be saying that after ur first date! (☆ω☆)

here's her number, since ur gonna need it!

[CRYING BABY NOISES] HAS SENT YOU A CONTACT

Iwaizumi grumbles the entire time he's punching in the number, intending to tell you that you've been set up and you don't need to bother coming, but his phone shows up with an error that he's already got the number saved. He stares at the notification, blinking once, twice, before the elation sets in and-

"Ah, Iwaizumi?" You call his name, walking quickly towards him and giving him a bashful smile. "Sorry I'm late. I wasn't worried because I thought it was just going to be Oikawa talking my ear off, but he texted me to say... well."

He just says your name, blushing but still grinning. You chuckle, and the little display of happiness pushes him to at least try and say something, "Oikawa gave me your number, but..." Iwaizumi trails off.

"He sent yours too." You explain, pulling your phone out and, at last, he's given proof that you're the mystery number and his grin manages to get wider. The cool winter air bites less than it did before. "But I already had it saved."

"Me too." Hajime says, taking a step closer to you and taking a hand tentatively. Your fingers slip between his, and your cheeks are pink from more than just the cold.

"I had a feeling it was you." You admit, still looking at him the way you do in his dreams. "It's nice to finally meet you properly, Phone-chan."

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #this was SO hard to format please like n subscribe SKDVGSLKJFDLSK #this was crossposted to ao3 !#also i should rly write smthn huh. like something actually new

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gwentoryfics · 4 years

Text

Hot for Teacher, Part 7.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

Words | 9.8k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Swearing. Masturbation. Mentions of underage drinking. Uhhhh pining? Lol

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • More Coming Soon

Note | WOW this update took forever, but I feel like this is a super special part of the fic and I hope you all enjoy. PLEASE let me know which of the boys you’re rooting for - I’m trying to make it difficult (can you tell) and I really want to see how you’re all feeling 😏😏 love you, peaches!

Wooseok plops onto Yuto’s couch, tucking his bowl of fresh-out-of-the-oven pizza rolls between his knees as he picks up his gaming controller.

“You know those things are terrible for you.” Yuto criticizes the snack choice as he resumes the video game, skillfully ducking around a corner to avoid being shot.

“Yeah but they’re fucking delicious, so suck my ass.” Wooseok patiently waits for the food to cool off, not ready for the inside of his mouth to get burnt to hell. “Stop stocking your fridge with pizza rolls if you don’t want me to eat them.”

Yuto shoots Wooseok’s avatar twice in the back and once in the head until he collapses. “I only do it because you’d complain about how I ‘never have anything good to eat.’”

“What the fuck, dude? Friendly fire!”

“You literally stood right in front of me and blocked my sight. Make better decisions.”

Wooseok finally bites into his cheesy pepperoni pizza bite as he waits to respawn, and it’s lava on his tongue. With a hiss, he tries to cool his mouth. Eventually says, “Speaking of bad decisions…”

“What did you do this time?”

“Remember how you talked to me about _____…”

“Wooseok, you fucking idiot.” Yuto seethes. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“It was her idea! I literally apologized for, like, making out with her and fingering her and stuff. And she was just like, nah it’s cool, let’s be friends with benefits.” He pops another one in his mouth and it’s just as hot as the last one. “I wasn’t gonna say no to that, so we hooked up. Also I’m not supposed to tell you about it so keep your mouth shut.”

Yuto pauses the game again just so he can look Wooseok in the face and express his full disdain. “Friends with benefits? As in, no romantic feelings?”

“Right.”

“...So does she know that you like her?”

Wooseok frowns. Yeah, he thinks she’s hot as fuck and she’s super cool and fun to be around, but he’s not, like, in love with her or anything. “I’m not even in it that deep! It’s totally fine, and we’re just having fun. So what if I’ve got a little crush.”

“It’s not going to be just a crush if you keep sleeping with her.”

“You know, at some point you need to stop parenting me and just let me do what I’m gonna do. Just trust my judgment for once and if I end up being wrong, that’s my problem to deal with.”

“If you’re wrong, then I have to listen to you whine and complain about your broken heart.” Yuto is unrelenting in his disapproval. “You know that she probably won’t reciprocate your feelings if she ever finds out.”

Against his better judgment, Wooseok accidentally holds out hope that she could. “We don’t even know that she won’t. It’s just a hunch that she might like Kino. I could be totally wrong about that.”

“And if she does like Kino?”

Wooseok chews his bottom lip, his brows pinching together. “Then it is what it is.”

“What is that?” Yuto points at Wooseok’s face. “What’s that look? Are you sad? Is this sadness?”

“Shut the fuck up, Yuto,” he grumbles. Yeah, he’d be fucking disappointed if she and Kino turned out to be a thing. But it’s not really up to him to decide who she likes.

Yuto eases up just a little, showing his soft spot for Wooseok. “I can’t let you walk into this mess. You have to stop this. Either quit it with the hook ups, or come clean about liking her.”

“But I-”

“No ‘buts.’ It has to stop. And what the fuck, Wooseok?” Yuto frowns. “You’re supposed to keep this all a secret, but you’re telling me anyway?”

“You know I can’t keep secrets. I just need you, my one and only confidante, to know about this shit. Although I don’t even know if I can call you that anymore,” Wooseok turns the blame to Yuto. “Now that I know you went and told _____ not to get involved with me because I might get hurt.”

Suddenly there’s a knock at Yuto’s door, and he groans, completely ignoring the issue Wooseok just brought up. “Do you think we can pretend I’m not home?”

Wooseok’s petty side comes out and he yells, “Who is it?”

Yuto elbows him. “What the fuck, dude?”

With a shrug, Wooseok defends himself. “You kind of deserved that.”

Through the door, a female speaks. “It’s Nailah, I just need to talk for a second.”

“Ooo, who’s Nailah?” Wooseok prods, a stupid grin on his face as he looks at Yuto.

Yuto tosses his head back, resigning himself to having to get up and socialize. “She lives across the hall with _____, coincidentally.” He makes his way to the door, and Wooseok follows him like a little puppy.

“_____’s your neighbor? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Why would I when I know you’re just gonna try some dumb shit?” He throws open the door, bluntly addressing their visitor. “Yes?”

Nailah seems unbothered by his rude greeting. “Hey, Yuto. I just wanted to extend an invitation. I’m throwing _____ a birthday party at my friend’s place on Saturday, and I figured it’d be cool if you came.” She hands him a hand-written invite.

“_____’s birthday?” Wooseok chimes, inserting himself into the conversation. “Wait I think I know you.”

Nailah nods casually. “Yeah, we ran into each other before, I think. _____ brought me to that party that got busted at your place.”

“Oh shit, yeah.” Wooseok chuckles. “Was a good night ‘til it wasn’t.”

“How much trouble did you get in?”

“It wasn’t awful. I just couldn’t do clubs for a few weeks and I had to write a paper about how I’m going to make more responsible decisions.”

Yuto crosses his arms over his chest. “Clearly that made an impact on you.”

“Shut up.” Wooseok nudges him before changing the subject in a way that doesn’t really change the subject. “Is _____ home?”

“Yeah, but- hey!” Nailah steps back as Wooseok pushes past her, taking all of two strides to reach her apartment door.

“_____!” He knocks on the door, rapping a quick rhythm. “Open up!”

He turns back to Nailah. “Is the party a secret?”

“No, she-”

“_____! I wanna go to your birthday party!” Wooseok knocks again, and this time she opens the door.

She looks a little bewildered to see him, but she’s wearing a smile that’s just honest to God the cutest thing in the whole damn world. “Fine, you can come,” she laughs.

Wooseok tries not to be distracted by the memories of last night, but her messy hair is too much of a reminder. He pushes through the urge to come on to her, but only because he doesn’t wanna make a scene. “Were you not gonna invite me?”

“Of course I was. I was gonna bring your invitation to R&B Ensemble tomorrow.”

“Okay, good.” Wooseok leans against the doorframe, sliding a hand into his pocket in an attempt to look cool. “So your birthday’s Saturday?”

“No, it’s Tuesday.”

“Cool, cool.” He keeps his face fixed in a relaxed expression and delivers a promise that he’s not quite sure how to fulfill. “Look forward to a bomb ass present.”

“Dude, you don’t have to get me anyth-”

“Nope. We’re buds. You’re getting a present. Don’t you worry about that, short stuff.” He’s not at all subtle as he winks at her, and her eyes flash, a flirty grin on her face.

“Watch it,” she whispers, trying not to raise suspicion from Nailah and Yuto.

“It’s fine,” he speaks lowly, not concerned by their audience but still trying to keep a low profile for her sake. He knows he’s going to get a talking-to as soon as he returns to Yuto’s room, anyway. “You look hot today, by the way.”

Without missing a beat, she sasses, “When don’t I?”

“Good point.” He can’t hold back his laughter at her bold statement. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to doing whatever you were doing.”

“Okay,” she giggles. “See you tomorrow.”

He gives a two-finger salute as she closes the door, then turns back to Nailah. “Make sure I’m on the guest list. I’m RSVP-ing right the fuck now.”

“Great.” Nailah just stares at him with wide, questioning eyes. She’ll probably have some questions for _____ after this, but he’s trusting her to handle it however she wants.

Yuto’s got a flame of frustration in his gaze as he stares Wooseok down. “I’ll be there, too.”

And Nailah seems fully unsure of what to make of all of this. She looks between them both for a moment before heading back to her room. “Great. See you goons Saturday.”

Wooseok doesn’t fight the name-calling, and Yuto is far too focused on his idiot of a best friend to be bothered by the insult. He follows Wooseok back into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Before you say anything,” Wooseok defends himself, “I just want to remind you how much I love parties. I heard there was a party and, like, my inner party monster just took over, and I had to make sure I was invited.”

“Quit the bullshit.” Yuto’s calm aura makes him even more intimidating. “What was all of that?”

Wooseok can’t help the sheepish grin that forms on his face as he tries to lighten the mood. “She seemed kind of into me, right?”

“Oh my God I’m going to beat some fucking sense into you.” Yuto threatens, but Wooseok knows it’s empty.

“Whatever.” Wooseok falls back onto the couch. “Are we playing or what?”

With a deep sigh, Yuto joins him. “Let’s do it.”

Hongseok’s favorite place to run is along the water. It’s so peaceful to watch the boats and hear the soft waves of the lake as it laps along the shore. Not to mention, the striking difference between the fluidity of the water next to the sharp, structured skyscrapers is a dichotomy that he finds profoundly intriguing.

Now that the temperatures are dropping, only the truly dedicated still run the lake trail. It’s windy and brisk, but Hongseok has always preferred running in cooler weather, anyway. Feels a little less like he could die of heat stroke.

The rock music coming through his headphones suddenly changes to his ringtone, and he slows to a gentle jog as he checks the phone strapped to his bicep. Hwitaek’s name appears on the screen, and he smiles as he swipes to answer.

“Hwitaek! Hey!” Hongseok falls into a walking pace to make it easier to talk. “Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I know! We’ve both been busy, I guess.” Hwitaek sounds glad that he answered.

“Right, how’s married life?” Now that he thinks about it, Hongseok’s not sure that he’s really talked to Hwitaek too much since the wedding. He headed back to the city before Hwitaek and Jiyoo returned from their honeymoon, so he had to say his goodbye at the reception. They’ve both kind of missed each other since.

“You know it’s really pretty weird, but in a good way. If that makes sense.” Hwitaek chuckles. “I feel like I know Jiyoo better than anybody, and it seemed like we were already so close that marriage wouldn’t really change much. But it really does make the whole relationship feel different. More official, you know.”

“A little slip of paper and a tax break can really do that much, huh.”

“I know you’re skeptical, Hong, but love can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe for us it’s the ceremony, the certificate, the too-expensive dress, the whole nine yards. But you don’t have to avoid relationships just because that’s not the kind of love you want.”

“I’m not avoiding relationships,” Hongseok scoffs. “I’m just busy.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to be able to sleep at night,” Hwitaek concedes.

Hongseok hates to admit it, but there is a seed of truth to what Hwitaek’s saying. He’s never been a fan of traditional love - it just feels ingenuine. Like everyone is following a script, just doing and saying the things they’re supposed to. He wants it to actually mean something when he does a gesture like planning a day together or giving a gift. He’s not going to buy flowers just because that’s what guys do. That’s not how he is.

With a sigh, Hongseok says, “If something happens eventually and I fall deeply in love with whomever it is, then fine. It happens. But I’m in no rush. It was nice enough for me to watch you do the whole marriage thing.”

“So when it does happen, I think you know that I’m expecting to be the best man,” Hwitaek says indignantly. “It’s only fair.”

“Would Jiyoo be okay sending you off to my bachelor party?” Hongseok laughs just imagining the fit she would throw. He was much more of a partier during their college days than Hwitaek was, and he’s positive Jiyoo would prefer for her adult husband to behave himself.

Hwitaek’s voice is noticeably softer as he says, “I’ll do what I want. I don’t need her approval.”

“Is she nearby? Is that why you said that so quietly?”

“Yes and yes. But you’re my best friend so I’ll make it work.”

“A true brother.” Hongseok smiles warmly as he pauses to stretch his legs. Damn, he misses hanging out with Hwitaek.

“So, actually the reason why I called…” Hwitaek smoothly changes the subject. “Um, just out of curiosity - maybe this is none of my business - have you been talking with Minseo at all?”

“Minseo?” The name doesn’t immediately ring a bell.

“Yeah, Jiyoo’s cousin. Kind of tall. Loud. Really nice teeth, though.”

Hongseok struggles to come up with a face to match the name. “I don’t think I know her.”

“Wait, I’ll send a picture. She was just over last night.” A moment later, “Okay, check your phone.”

He pulls the phone out of the case strapped to his arm and opens the message to find a somewhat familiar face resting on Jiyoo’s shoulder.

The face of the girl that convinced him to dance with _____ at the wedding.

She’s the only one who actually knows what happened that night.

Christ.

“I do recognize her.” Hongseok tries to keep his voice steady so as not to give away that he’s hiding a secret. “Why are you asking about her?”

“I was just wondering if something might be going on. Or if she might be pestering you. I don’t know, like I said she’s just kind of a big personality and I just wanted to make sure she’s not, I don’t know, trying to get with you or something.”

“Why would you think that?” Surely that’s incredibly far from the truth, and it strikes him as odd that Hwitaek would have that impression.

“She just keeps asking about you. She wants to know what you were like in college, what your relationship history is like, whether you cook. Just really random stuff and I don’t know why she’d care unless she were into you.”

What Hwitaek doesn’t know is that the only possible reason why she’d be asking all of those questions is because she’s trying to share the information with _____. That’s it. That’s why.

Does that mean _____ has been trying to find out more about him? Has she tasked Minseo with a spy mission?

Hongseok rubs his temple, gripping his phone tightly. He really should tell Hwitaek what’s up, even if he doesn’t want to own up to what happened. Walking towards the water, he finds himself a place in the grass to sit. “She’s not asking for herself. She’s asking for _____.”

Hwitaek, the poor ignorant bastard, asks, “Why would she do that?”

Here it comes. With a single deep breath, he finally sets the truth free. “I slept with her after the reception.”

“With _____?” Hwitaek is audibly shocked. “You slept with Jiyoo’s cousin? At our wedding?”

“After the wedding, okay? Jeez. It’s not like we fucked while you were at the altar.” Hongseok defends himself. “I even made a point to say goodbye to you beforehand to officially end the night, so really the whole situation is completely removed from the ceremony.”

There’s a lot of noise coming over the phone, because Jiyoo very obviously heard Hwitaek say the whole you slept with Jiyoo’s cousin? thing. Hongseok’s head falls back in dread. That’s a whole can of worms he was not prepared to open.

“Just put me on speaker phone and I’ll explain.”

Immediately, Jiyoo’s voice responds. “You slept with _____? My baby cousin?”

Hwitaek jumps to his defense. “Don’t sound so disgusted! Hongseok’s not a bad guy!”

She retorts, “He had a one night stand with my sweet little _____. She’s not that kind of girl.”

“She certainly was that night.” The words come out of Hongseok’s mouth before he can stop them.

“HONGSEOK!” Jiyoo screeches.

He just frowns as he hears Hwitaek frantically try to calm Jiyoo down. “Buckle up, you guys, because the story’s not over.”

“Don’t tell me it happened more than once. Please.” Jiyoo’s voice is lined with an unspoken threat.

“It hasn’t, I swear.” Another sigh as he gears up for the last bit. “We haven’t done anything but talk. But you two should know that she’s one of my students.”

Jiyoo doesn’t say a word, which somehow makes it worse. Hwitaek speaks up instead. “I didn’t even realize that she went to your school.”

“Neither did I.” Hongseok rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms before returning his gaze to the water, shimmering in the bright sunlight. “I wouldn’t have touched her if I knew. But she and I had a conversation, and we agreed that nothing can happen between us again. The class is strictly business. Neither one of us wants to risk getting in trouble with the school for misconduct.”

Sassily, Jiyoo’s voice returns. “So he has a brain after all.”

“Sweetie, come on. Cut him some slack,” Hwitaek pleads. “Yeah, it wasn’t a great idea to sleep with her, but it happened and it’s over. There’s no use getting so worked up about it.”

Even with Hwitaek defending him, Hongseok can’t just sit there and take this. “Stop acting like I’m the villain and she’s some innocent victim. She’s capable of making her own choices. I didn’t force her into anything. It was fully consensual, and now we’re both handling the situation like mature adults.”

That may be a bit of a stretch. He’s done nothing but ridicule her for acting like a child since the semester started. But he’ll stick up for her if it means getting Jiyoo off their case.

“My apologies.” Jiyoo comes off much softer. “I need to take a moment to let this all sink in.”

Hongseok hears her leave the room, and then Hwitaek’s voice is much clearer as he turns off the speakerphone. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll settle down.”

Hongseok lets himself take a deep breath, feeling much safer now that he can talk with only his friend. “I just needed to tell you that. I think Minseo might be digging for more information about me to share with _____, because she knows what happened between us. And she knows that I’m _____’s professor.”

“Are you handling all of this okay? It sounds like a really tricky situation to be in.”

“It’s… hard. It’s really difficult. I’ve been really cold to her just to prevent anyone from thinking I might be biased in any way, but that’s just caused so much tension. And then she just does stuff sometimes that’s so cute…” His memory flashes back to the time she sang Aerosmith in his office, and then the song played in class and she started laughing. It was just so endearing. “Do you think I can stop being attracted to her? That would make everything so much easier.”

“I don’t think there’s a real answer for that, Hong. In my experience, you’re usually just attracted to the people you’re attracted to, and that’s that.” Hwitaek attempts to reassure him, but it’s useless. Especially when he follows up with the most problematic question he could’ve asked: “Do you have feelings for her?”

Hongseok pulls his knees in towards his chest, tucking his head down and effectively curling into a ball. He’s been trying so hard to avoid all of this and now he has no choice but to just confront whatever it is that’s been going on in his head and his heart. He’s felt attracted to her ever since he first laid eyes on her, but could it be anything more than that?

The night they spent together was nothing short of incredible, and he fondly remembers the way she so warmly looked up at him in the moments before he kissed her, the soft touch of her lips overwhelming his senses and driving his desire for more.

Even though the nature of their relationship is obviously very different now, he still sees flickers of that warmth in her. He sees the way she absentmindedly bites her lip when she’s thinking, and the small taste he’s gotten of her ridiculous sense of humor makes him wonder just how great they could be together.

If only she were older.

If only she weren’t his student.

Hongseok can’t even pretend that he wouldn’t be interested in her if the circumstances were different. He knows that under different circumstances he would certainly try to date her, because he already tried the night they were together.

He gave her his phone number with the boutonniere. He gave her the opportunity to reach out and establish something more than just that one night, but she didn’t do it. That’s part of the reason why he was so frustrated to see her in class - it’s one thing that they slept together, but it’s entirely different to know that he expressed an interest in seeing her again and she rejected him.

And now he has to watch her work admirably hard in class once a week and pretend like it doesn’t make his chest ache.

Forever reticent, he seeks a way to keep his thoughts to himself. “Do I have to answer that question?”

“That response says a lot.” Hwitaek sighs. “It might feel better to just get it off your chest and say it out loud.”

“Nope. Saying it just makes it harder to ignore.” Hongseok peeks up from the crook of his elbow, finally starting to feel chilly now that he’s been sitting for so long. He stands and briefly stretches his quads, getting ready to continue his run.

Hwitaek tries to encourage him. “Well the most important thing in this situation is that you just get through the rest of the semester without acting on it. And then she won’t be around anymore, and you’ll be able to move past it.”

“You’re right. I just have to make it to the end of the semester.”

“And that’s not so far away, right? You’re probably about halfway by now.”

“Midterms were about two weeks ago, so yeah, we’re nearly there.”

“See? You’ve got this.” Hwitaek sounds cheery as he motivates his best friend. “I’m rooting for you. I think it’ll all turn out fine. It’ll continue to be difficult for a little bit, but it’ll pass.”

Hongseok lets out a deep sigh, feeling some sense of relief for the first time in months. “I should have told you about this a long time ago. Thanks for looking out for me.”

It seems like Hwitaek is also a bit relieved after this conversation. “I’m glad that we got to talk.”

Hongseok smiles, returning to the path he had been running. “Go take care of Jiyoo, okay? And if you want, it’s okay to tell Minseo that you two know. I’ll leave that up to you. But don’t tell anyone else.”

No matter how hard he tries, Kino simply cannot stop thinking about Saturday night. Something about holding her hand completely captured his whole consciousness and he could think of nothing except the feeling of their fingers intertwined and his lips on her forehead.

He had probably gone too far by kissing her like that, but it just felt right, even though they’re only friends. He just feels so comfortable with her, and it’s easy for him to get wrapped up in the moment. She hasn’t seemed interested in anything more than friendship, especially after that whole dirty voicemail incident, but she also didn’t seem to be bothered by the kiss. If anything, he distinctly remembers the cute way she looked up at him right after he did it, like she was surprised but definitely not opposed.

There’s only one way to find out for sure what she thinks… but he’s not ready to have that conversation yet.

As he waits in the lobby of her dorm building to walk with her to R&B Ensemble, he tries to at least clear his head. He has something important to ask her, and he doesn’t want it to accidentally come out awkward.

He stands there, trying not to pace, and he notices how much lighter he feels the second he spots her coming off of the elevator. She waves cheerfully when she sees him waiting there.

“Hey!” She greets him as she approaches. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Was trying to wrap up that aural skills homework.”

“You know it’s not due until Wednesday, there’s no rush on it,” he chuckles. She’s such a go-getter.

“Well yeah, but tomorrow’s my birthday and I don’t want it to be full of homework. So I’m knocking it out now.”

Kino sucks in a breath and bites his knuckle, grimacing. “Ah, I completely forgot about your birthday, shoot…” It’s a total lie, but he just wants to get her worked up.

She deflates a little, but it’s hardly noticeable. “That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to remember or anything. I probably only brought it up once.”

“_____, I’m teasing! Of course I remember!” Kino nudges her playfully. “You’re like, my closest friend. How could I forget?”

With a shy smile, she loops her arm in his, and they head out into the cold. “That’s right.”

“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?”

“Just class, actually. Nailah’s organizing a party for Saturday, though, and you have to come! I have your official invitation in my backpack. I’ll give it to you when we get to rehearsal.”

“I can totally be there Saturday.” Kino immediately agrees.

“Good. It’ll be a shitty birthday party if you’re not there.” She tugs on his arm, and it makes his cheeks grow warm.

He takes a deep breath now that it’s his turn to extend an invitation. “Okay, so if you don’t have any plans for tomorrow night, you should be able to come to the birthday dinner reservation I have for you and me downtown. Right?” He hates that he can’t keep eye contact, but he just can’t get himself to look at her while it feels like he’s asking her on a date.

But it’s not a date, exactly. It’s just a nice dinner. Between friends. For a birthday.

Totally regular stuff.

She scoffs. “Well I guess I have to if you made a reservation and everything.”

Kino pulls his scarf closer around his chin and jaw, trying to block out some of the cold wind. “I mean you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. Don’t feel like you don’t have a choice…”

“Kino, stop. I’d love to go to dinner with you. It better be a nice place, though. I’m a woman of taste.”

“Says the girl who downed a whole family size bag of salt and vinegar chips in one sitting.” Kino cringes at the memory. Even the smell of the chips made him shrivel up in disgust.

“Okay you’re the one with a suffering palate. Salt and vinegar chips are the bomb.”

“Gross.”

They spend the whole walk to class bickering about food tastes, and it’s a completely pointless conversation, but he’s fully invested because it feels meaningful when it’s her.

When they enter the rehearsal room, they’re both full of smiles and laughter, but his smile fades when he locks eyes with Wooseok. The tall drummer is standing next to Yuto, and he seems less than thrilled to see Kino with _____. He looks a little disappointed, actually.

Kino gets himself set up with the other singers while she heads over to the rhythm section, and Wooseok’s expression changes as he playfully greets her, pulling her into a headlock and messing up her hair. She squirms and laughs, and Kino tries desperately to pretend like their interaction doesn’t bother him.

He stops paying attention until she comes up to him with a little envelope in her hand.

“Here,” she hands it to him. “That’s for Saturday. Wooseok and Yuto are coming, and so is my friend Shinhye. You’ve met her before.”

“Yeah I remember her.” Kino nods.

“And some of Nailah’s friends will be there too, since they’re hosting the party. We all thought it would be a good idea to have the party off campus, since there’ll be booze.” She grins impishly. “It’s gonna be fun.”

Kino laughs. “I bet. I’ll be there for sure.”

“Awesome.” She squeezes his arm. “And honestly, I’m seriously looking forward to dinner tomorrow. It’s super sweet of you to make dinner plans.”

“No problem.” He tells himself to smile confidently so she doesn’t see how flustered he is. “Just make sure you’re wearing something nice and I’ll come get you around 5:45.”

“Sounds great.” With one last squeeze, she heads back to her part of the room.

This time when Kino catches Wooseok’s gaze, he doesn’t stop smiling.

It’s just another class. Just another Tuesday morning. That’s what Hongseok tells himself, anyway. But when she shows up, he immediately realizes that this is actually a very special Tuesday.

Shinhye’s trying to convince her of something, as they walk through the door, but she refuses. And then Shinhye turns to Hongseok.

“Professor Yang! It’s _____’s birthday today,” Shinhye announces as she holds up a piece of silky fabric with ‘Birthday Girl’ embroidered on it. “Can you tell her that she has to wear this sash for class?”

The birthday girl averts her eyes, clearly unwilling to participate in whatever Shinhye’s trying. As flatly as possible, he comes to her rescue with an incredibly practical excuse. “No birthday sashes. It’s a hazard around the power tools.”

A perfect smile breaks across her lips as she finally looks up at him. She holds his gaze for a moment, and it’s really a beat too long before she finally turns back to Shinhye. “See? Now put it away.”

The girls walk off to their spot in the back of the room, and he forces himself to focus on his computer to keep himself from looking back at her. There’s something especially magnetic about her today, but maybe it’s just because he knows that it’s her birthday.

When he has today’s workshop playlist set, he looks around the room and realizes that the birthday sash would have been the least concerning part of her clothing choices. The olive colored v-neck sweater she wears draws his gaze directly to her chest, and he knows today is going to be more challenging than usual.

He wishes he could just avoid her during class, but he needs to make sure all of his students get the help they need. Most of them don’t know anything about sawing, sanding, or the appropriate way to use wood glue, and he needs every kid in this class to leave the room with all of their fingers intact.

Inevitably, he makes his way back to her after weaving through the room and helping other students with their projects along the way. A few pieces of wood that will eventually become the body of her instrument lay on the table in front of her. He helps her select the right grit of sandpaper to sand down the edges of the pieces she finished cutting for the top and bottom of her dulcimer. The last big piece of her project build is to bend the side pieces into the hourglass shape she wants her instrument to have.

He had to bring in his bending iron just for her, since literally every other student wanted to do simple instruments with straight sides. It’s not a difficult process, but it’s a little tedious.

Hongseok picks up one of the side pieces and walks her over to the bending iron. “So the shape that you want is going to require three bends in the wooden piece. Here, here, and here.” With a pencil, he marks the two spots where the wood should curve out towards the top and bottom, and the spot in the middle where it should curve in. “You don’t have to be perfect with this, but work on getting the general shape.”

She just nods attentively. He tries desperately not to look at her for fear that he might accidentally look down her sweater. Thankfully, it’s fairly easy to do as he demonstrates how to use the iron.

With a wide, clean paint brush, he brushes water onto the first spot they’ll bend. “First, you want to make sure that the wood is wet before you bend it. The water turns to steam from the heat of the iron, and that’s what bends the fibers in the wood. You’ll have to reapply water pretty regularly to keep it from getting dry. Then you just rock the wood over the iron like this.” He shows her how to slowly work the wood. “The iron does get really hot, so keep your hands at a safe distance, and just apply a bit of pressure. Not too much, though, or you might crack the wood.”

“Got it.” She nods again, observing.

He takes a moment to get a bit of a bend started, and then hands the wood to her. “It’s going to take some time, so you just need to be patient. Rushing the process will just damage the wood.”

“Okay. I’ll be careful.”

Hongseok’s not sure why, but it almost sounds like she’s reassuring him that she’ll be okay. He wasn’t trying to come across as being protective, because he gives all of his students the same warnings whenever he shows them a new tool. But he just nods. “Give it a try.”

She steps up to the iron, wets the wood, and starts mimicking his rocking movements.

“Keep the edge of the wood parallel with the back of the iron, otherwise the bend is going to be crooked.”

She follows his instructions. “Like this?”

“Exactly. You can even use just a touch more pressure. If you don’t use enough, the wood won’t bend.” He resists the urge to reach over and show her, reminding himself that he needs to keep his distance.

“Just gotta find that happy medium,” she chuckles, and the lighthearted sound makes him smile.

“That’s it.”

She presses down on the wood a little harder, and her form looks good. “How soon should I re-wet it?”

“You can give it a few minutes. So just do that until you’ve got a nice curve going for the lower body, and then you can do the waist and the upper body, in that order. You might not get to all of it today because you want to give the wood some time to cool between each bend.”

He loves sharing his craft with his students, but there’s something different about sharing it with her. It just feels so intimate to share such an important piece of his life with her in this setting, and her genuine interest in the subject only makes him want to share it with her more.

At the end of the day, he knows that it’s only because he’s slept with her. Every little interaction feels sexually and emotionally charged. She’s just so attractive in both looks and personality, and he’s drawn to her over and over again.

But he can’t let himself give in to whatever it is that he’s feeling for her. Hwitaek’s advice rings in his head and he reminds himself that he only needs to get through a few more weeks before the semester is over.

He can avoid the temptation for at least that long.

“Seriously, Kino, this place is amazing,” _____ gushes, taking the last big bite of her steak, savoring each chew and talking with her mouth full. “Jesus, this steak is fucking delicious.”

Kino covers his mouth as he laughs, trying to maintain some semblance of maturity. They’re at an incredibly fancy restaurant, after all - one that he’s certainly spending way too much money at, but it’s worth it for her - and he doesn’t want to make a scene when it’s clear that they’re just two dumb college kids trying to have an experience.

“Maybe you should swallow first before you talk,” he comments.

“That’s what he said.” She doesn’t miss a beat, making it even harder for Kino to keep his composure.

“No,” Kino nudges her leg under the table with his foot, softly lecturing her. “Bad.”

“Kino, are you trying to play footsie with me?” She nudges him back, playfully teasing.

She’s been in particularly high spirits all night, and he’s trying to convince himself that it’s only because of her birthday. Everything has been borderline flirtatious since he picked her up from the dorms.

“Stop it,” Kino gives her a warning look, but he’s still smiling. “You’re just asking for trouble.”

She smiles and takes a sip of her water. “I’m just having fun. Thank you for taking me out tonight, Kino. I’m having a blast.”

“I am, too.” He feels his cheeks unintentionally grow warm.

“Good! I’m gonna use the bathroom. I bet they’ve got bathroom attendants and everything in a place like this.” She gets up from the table and heads off to the bathroom, the skirt of her dress clinging to every curve as she walks and making Kino way more flustered than he should be. When he had told her to dress up, he hadn’t quite expected her to wear something so… hot.

It’s not a big deal, he sees dancers clad in tight clothing every day. But it’s her, and that makes it different.

While she’s gone, he flags down their waiter. “Excuse me, it’s my friend’s birthday today. Could we get a dessert?”

“We have a chocolate lava cake that she’d likely enjoy. We can even write a Happy Birthday message on the plate for you.”

“That sounds perfect! Thank you.”

As the waiter heads off with his special order, Kino notices _____’s phone on the table, lighting up as multiple messages come in. He’s not a snooper by any means, but when his eye catches Wooseok’s name as the sender, he can’t help but feel curious. She hasn’t said anything more to Kino about Wooseok since the night she came over drunk, but he never pried. He always figured that she’d share whatever she felt comfortable sharing.

The previews of the messages give away everything he needs to know, though - the number of eggplant and winky emojis that comes across is enough to make him feel embarrassed. That has to mean something’s happening between them, right?

A sense of dread suddenly sets in. Maybe this was all too much, and it’s going to come across like he’s romancing her when she’s already involved with somebody else. He doesn’t want to be that guy, if that’s already the case. Ordering that dessert was definitely too much… ah, he definitely shouldn’t have done that…

No, it’s fine. It’s just a cake, and it’s her birthday! He’s just being a good friend. That’s all. He’s just a good friend.

_____ reappears right in the middle of his internal debate. “I was right! There was a lady in there, and she squirted soap into my hands and then dried ‘em off with a cloth towel after I washed up.”

“Wow,” he breathed, forcing out a small chuckle. “That’s fancy.”

“Right?” She takes her seat, and the cake comes out shortly after. There’s no song because this restaurant is clearly too classy to have the waiters sing. But the joy on _____’s face is absolutely precious, and he’s glad that he ordered the cake after all.

“Kino! Did you do this when I was in the bathroom?” She surveys her plate in awe, with the beautiful chocolate sauce message and the strawberry slices atop the chocolate-drizzled lava cake.

“Yeah. We can’t have a real birthday dinner without cake, can we?”

“Kino… This is so sweet…” She looks like she’s getting a little choked up, but she manages a smile. “You’re the best friend I could’ve asked for. Thank you so much for doing all of this for me.”

“You’re welcome, _____. Happy Birthday.” He smiles wide, pretending like his whole chest hadn’t painfully tightened at the word friend.

It’s fine. This is what he wants. He’s just her friend.

After they wrap up their meal and he pays the astronomic check - still worth it for his best friend, he reminds himself - they hop on the bus and head back towards their dorms.

“I’m actually coming to your building,” she announces as the bus pulls up to their stop. “Wooseok said he has a birthday present for me, so I’m going to stop by.”

“Ah, okay.” Kino tries to seem cool about it, but he just has to say something. “He’s seemed pretty flirty with you recently, don’t you think?”

“Wooseok?” She lets out a laugh and they step out onto the sidewalk, heading for the dorm building. “Nah, he’s just like that. He’s playful, you know?”

Kino hums. “Yeah, I guess he is.” He holds the door open for her, and they pile into the elevator together, each pressing buttons for their respective floors.

“Thanks again for tonight, I seriously had so much fun.” She pulls Kino into a tight hug that lasts just a bit longer than it probably should. But he holds her, completely willing to keep her there as long as she wants. When the door opens and she finally pulls away, she parts with the cutest smile. “Next time, don’t wait for a special occasion to get dinner with me.”

He lets himself smile, even though he’s fully aware that he’s filling with false hope. “Okay.”

Wooseok crosses his arms over his chest as he surveys his handiwork. He didn’t mean to make her gift so romantic. When he had considered what to do for her birthday, he thought to himself, you know what’s cool? Fuckin pillow forts. It was supposed to be something fun but like, there’s no way that she’ll see what he’s done and say wow, thanks for this pal, you’re really just a true friend, let me just casually suck your dick now.

Not that a blow job is expected. He just likes to think about it sometimes.

Anyway, he knows nothing sexual is gonna happen between them tonight unless she doesn’t care that his roommate is home. Wooseok had tried to get him to go somewhere else, but Minho was adamant that he was staying in and going to bed early, since his Wednesday 8am class regularly kicks his butt.

Briefly, he considers tearing it all down, but she’s going to be here any moment and he doesn’t want to be empty handed after promising her a cool gift.

Hopefully she’ll like it and it won’t be weird.

Right on cue, there’s a knock at his apartment door, signaling her arrival. Wooseok ducks into the bathroom for just a moment to check his hair before giving himself a weird look in the mirror. Why is he concerned with looking good? He’s not, like, trying to impress her or anything. It’s just casual.

He pushes his hand through his hair once before deciding it’s fine, and he heads for the door. She looks super cute in her dress, her jacket hanging open to reveal the tight fabric clinging to her curves. It immediately makes him think of the time she showed up and handed him her panties - which he safely stored in his underwear drawer, because that just makes sense - and it nearly gets him hard on the spot.

“Hey,” she glows as she smiles up at him.

“Is that dress comfortable?”

She raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Why, you want me to take it off?”

“I’d definitely never say no to that, but… just a sec. Cover your eyes.”

“...Okay.” She gives him a quizzical look before holding her hands up to her eyes. He guides her into the apartment and directs her into the bathroom.

“Just a sec.” He flicks on the light and closes the door.

She laughs from the other side. “What are you doing?”

“Just hang on!” Wooseok shouts as he dips into the bedroom, where Minho is diligently reading his history textbook.

“She here?” Minho doesn’t look up.

Wooseok digs through his drawers, pulling out a clean t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Yeah. She hasn’t seen it yet, though.”

“Girls love that shit. She’s gonna fall head over heels for you as soon as you show her.”

Wooseok’s heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He definitely likes the thought of her falling for him, but there’s also a good chance that this whole gift won’t go over well and she’ll feel like he’s trying to make a move on her, and then she’ll want to call the whole thing off. So he needs to make sure he frames it right. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Good luck, dude.”

“Thanks.”

He emerges from the room and opens the bathroom door just enough to hand the clothing in. “Put this on. You need to be comfy.”

She takes the clothes with a quiet giggle, and then opens the door a few minutes later.

The way his heart jumps into his throat at the sight of her in his shirt is unreal.

His clothes are big on her, of course, since he’s basically a giant, and the way the fabric hangs on her frame is just the most adorable thing that he’s ever seen. He knows immediately that he made a mistake and she should’ve just kept the dress on.

Regardless, he swallows his heart and gives a thumbs-up. “Better?”

She nods with a cute smile. “Very comfy.”

“Good. Close your eyes again.”

“Whyyy?”

“Because it’s a surprise, dipshit.”

As soon as she covers her eyes again, Wooseok pulls her into the living room and angles her to face his masterpiece. He doesn’t let his hands linger on her shoulders any longer than they have to.

“‘Kay. You can look now.”

He’s completely fixated on her as she drops her hands, anxious for her reaction. And when she sees what he’s done, she completely lights up.

“You made a blanket fort?”

“It’s cool, right?” He tentatively asks.

“It’s awesome!” She laughs joyfully. “Can we go in?”

“Nah, we’re just gonna look at it from out here.”

She playfully smacks his chest before approaching the fort, lifting up the sheet to peek inside. “Wow, this is so much cooler than the ones my brother and I would make when we were kids.”

From the outside, it looks like just a couple of sheets draped over various pieces of furniture, but the inside is really where most of his effort went. The fort’s ceiling is lined with twinkling lights, and there are decorative pillows of all shapes and sizes lining the back and sides. Small fake candles are scattered throughout and a fresh bowl of popcorn sits next to his opened laptop.

“Wooseok…” She crawls inside, making herself at home. “This is seriously awesome. I can’t believe you did all of this.”

He follows her in, taking extra care not to bump any of the blankets or chairs out of place with his large frame. “I promised you a cool birthday gift, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.” She looks up at him, and her sweet gaze is a little too much for him.

“So I thought maybe, like, a lowkey movie night would be fun? We can just relax and hang out and watch your favorite movie or something. Or we could pick something we haven’t seen. Your call, birthday girl.”

After a few minutes of browsing online, they eventually pick a movie to put on. It’s a crime thriller that he’s surprised she’s interested in, but she insisted that this is the one she wants. And then the movie starts, and they’re just sitting there side by side, and he’s internally debating whether he should put his arm around her. He knows the right choice is absolutely no, but it’s just so tempting to let her snuggle up next to him.

Wooseok glances down at her to see where she’s at, and he notices that her little eyebrows are pushed together in concern.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Hm?” She looks up at him and throws on a smile. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m alright.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. I just…” She scoots a little closer, curling her legs in towards her body and leaning against him. “It’s nothing.”

Is that the signal? Should he go for it? She’s trying to cuddle with him, right?

Wooseok feels hopelessly lost. This would be so much easier if he didn’t actually have some kind of feelings for her. Even though they both agreed that they’d come clean if any feelings ever cropped up, he just can’t convince himself that it’s a good idea to confess. If he says something, then they’ll stop hooking up, and she’ll probably feel weird about being his tutor and hanging out with him. He can suck it up and pretend like he doesn’t have feelings.

“Woo.” She shortens his name to get his attention. They lock eyes. “You know, you haven’t actually wished me a happy birthday yet.”

“I haven’t?”

She shakes her head minutely, her gaze not moving a centimeter. There’s something deep in her eyes, and he’s probably just reading into it all too much, but it feels like it did the first time he kissed her - like they’re connected and grounded and alive in this moment.

This time, he doesn’t ask for permission.

Wooseok kisses her slowly, as if she might break if he’s not careful. His eyes close as his lips connect with hers, and she’s soft and sweet as always. He fights off the urge to hold her hand, to cup her face. He just wants to kiss her, and that’s what he does.

It’s a long moment before he pulls away from her. She looks happy and he feels like at least for tonight, he’s done a good job.

“Happy Birthday, short stuff.”

Hongseok finishes off his bourbon and looks around, not really sure why he thought it would be a good idea to come back to Andy’s jazz club. He had planned on going to the bar across the street, thinking he might be able to find someone there who could serve as a distraction for the night. He had plenty of hookups when he was at university so he knows how that scene works.

But as soon as he got there, curiosity got the best of him. It’s the Friday after _____’s birthday, which means she’s probably looking for a way to celebrate, right? And she’s snuck into Andy’s before, so why couldn’t she do it again?

Honestly, even if he found her there, he’s not sure if he’d tell her to go home or just be glad to cross paths again.

When he arrived, she was nowhere to be seen. He knows that’s for the best, since she's still not legally old enough to be here, and he shouldn’t be going out of his way to try to interact with her anyway.

The best he can do now is just look for a distraction as he had originally planned.

Hongseok leaves his empty glass at the bar and approaches an attractive woman in a deep red dress. He smooth talks her. He lays it on thick, because he notices right away that she’s eating it all up. He asks her to dance, and she agrees.

The band tonight is great, and they play plenty of music that’s perfect for dancing. The smooth jazz makes for perfect slow dance music, and he clasps her hand in his, his other hand resting on her back and keeping her close. He murmurs everything she wants to hear, his lips brushing the cusp of her ear as he flirts. She’s like putty in his hands.

And when the moment’s right, his lips find hers.

He kisses her like it means something, like he’s not just trying to avoid his problems. And she kisses him back, a delightful breath of fresh air.

Perhaps he can actually break free of _____’s spell.

It’s not long before their kiss becomes more than what is socially acceptable in public, and he suggests that they go back to his place. But she declines, claiming that she’s not that kind of woman, but leaves him with her phone number and a request to meet up for dinner next week.

Not exactly what he had hoped for, but he can't let himself be bothered by the fact that they both want different things. Still, he decides to keep her number, because she is quite beautiful. Who knows if anything will ever happen between them.

The pianist on stage starts a solo, effectively catching Hongseok's attention and driving his gaze to the front of the room. The melody is tender, full of longing, and for just a brief moment he thinks it might be _____ at the piano.

Of course it's not.

That's all the reason Hongseok needs to get the hell out of there.

When did he get in so deep? When did he become so crazy for this girl that he's hoping for any chance just to see her? He has no excuse for acting this way, but he can't help the fact that he's been completely enamored by her from the moment he first spoke to her at the wedding reception.

Hongseok returns to his apartment to settle in for the night, realizing that the only distraction he could possibly get for the night is his music. He lounges on his bed, plucking at the strings of one of his many acoustic guitars, his cat stretched out next to his leg.

His fingers move freely as he tries not to think about her, but is there really much harm in just getting lost in his thoughts?

He remembers the first time he saw her in his classroom, and how differently it hit him than the first time he saw her at the wedding. He remembers how dreadful it felt to see her sitting in the back, yet how thrilling it was to invite her into his hotel room.

He remembers her anger, her joy, her ecstasy. She’s beautiful and fun and sexy and charming, entirely intoxicating.

The memories of their night together visit him once again. He thinks about it far more often than he should, but he’s always told himself that he can at least savor the memory if he can’t let himself be with her again.

As Hongseok lets himself relive that night in his mind, he sets his guitar to the side, his hardening length capturing his attention. His hand slides down the front of his sweatpants, tentatively stroking himself in search of some relief.

The mental image of her naked body very quickly drives him wild. God what he wouldn’t give to be inside of her again, his hands massaging her round ass as he peppers kisses along her throat. He wants to hear her sighs of pleasure, wants to watch the way her lips part as each wave of her orgasm washes over her, her walls pulsing around his cock.

And the feeling of her tongue as it swirled around the head of his cock… he’d never get over it.

It’s like she knew every single one of his buttons. Like she already had full and total control over his pleasure.

Hongseok breaks out of his fantasy just long enough to push his sweatpants down and grab the lube from his nightstand. His hand alone isn’t enough, doesn’t do justice to the incredible wetness of her.

He lets out a groan as he resumes his stroking, his cock twitching delightfully in his hand.

And, completely swept up in the heat of it all, he allows himself to imagine what would happen if he caved.

What if he told her how badly he wanted her, and she said the same? What if he invited her over, and she agreed without hesitation? What if he gave himself just one more chance to taste her, explore her, ruin her…

Love her?

Hongseok lets himself moan as he pumps harder, imagining his cock plunging into her, her nails digging into his back. He can practically hear her voice as it wraps around his name in the most seductive tone he’s ever heard, and all he wants is to give her everything she could ever ask of him.

He wants to bite her skin, squeeze her curves, bury himself so deeply in her that he completely loses himself.

Hot ropes shoot from his cock onto his v-neck shirt as he thinks of nothing but her, and once his breathing returns to normal he finally realizes just how fucked he is.

It feels harmless, but he knows that fantasizing about her will only continue to chip away at his already weakening willpower, and eventually he’s going to end up doing something incredibly dumb.

After pulling off his dirty shirt and cleaning himself up, he returns to his bed, picking up his guitar once more. Unfortunately, not even his release is enough to get his mind off of her, so really he’s just back to square one.

He remembers how he played in his office for her, how she watched him in awe. He wonders if she feels music just as deeply as he does, if she feels the same connection to the melodies she plays and hears.

She had asked if he could drum while he played, and his attempt had been mostly unsuccessful. He was sorely out of practice at the time, but he's been working on it since then.

He fingers a tune, taps his fingers on the face of the guitar, bumps his palm against the wood. If only she could hear him now, she'd surely be impressed.

And then - he has an idea.

The rest of his night is spent in the makeshift recording studio he's created inside of his closet with his best guitar, his microphone, and the desire to create something just for her.

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 8.

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years

Text

Crocodile Tears

Yandere!Shindou x fem!reader

Warnings: yandere, smuuuut, Dark/triggering themes, dubious consent, angst, Shindou being the rapscallion that he probably is

A/N: I have a few yandere requests for Shindou that are pretty similar and idk I got this idea and so uhhhhh :))) (aged up 18+)

You hugged your pillow tightly and tried not to think about him. You tried not to think about those sweet smiles he used to offer you, how he would always open your car door for you, or how he used to make you feel like you were the only person on the planet. It had been two weeks since you broke up with your boyfriend and though you were doing very well, finding anything and everything to distract yourself, during long periods of time when you had nothing else going on his dark black eyes would find their way back into your mind.

You’ve dropped all contact with him; you’ve blocked him on all of your social media, deleted every photo of him so you wouldn’t have any reason to lament over your lost relationship, and changed the lock on your doors. That was for the best. You had tried to break things of several times with him but he always had a way to convince you not to leave but you were finally to get out and you were relieved… Still, you weren’t at ease, not with yourself and not with knowing that he was out there… stewing.

And it hurt. You were fine— you. were. fine! but still it felt like a part of you, a part that you’ve poured so much of your love in for so long, had been ripped away from you! You kept telling yourself that it was for the best and sure it was but that didn’t stop your heart from aching nor the tears rolling down from your cheeks and on to your momentary companion, the pillow.

A knock at your front door caught your attention. You’d been expecting company but not so soon. You quickly dry your eyes and leapt to the mirror, giving your hair a little shake before opening the door. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Y/N…” needless to say, it wasn’t who you were expecting. You heart pounded against your rib cage as your ex, Yo Shindou, towered over you. “Can we talk?”

Damn him. Damn those sweet eyes, his cute nose, his tousled hair… he shows up with his hands tucked into his sweater pockets looking like a lost puppy!!! What were you supposed to say?!

“We can’t see each other anymore, Yo…”

You made a move to close the door but his foot stuck through the threshold. You sighed and let the door be pushed in with Shindou returning with tears in his eyes. “Please, Y/N. I just… I need to understand what really happened. I’m just,” he sniffed, “so confused.”

That pang in your chest, the reoccurring guilt, and the inevitable excitement at seeing the man you loved after so long had you bowing your head and opening the door wider and in walked the crocodile.

“How have you been?” He asked.

“Fine.”

You sat down on the couch, keeping the pillow in between the two of you. Shindou smiled sadly at you and reached for your hand. Out of habit, your fingers intertwined with his. “I’ve missed you, babe.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. You knew that if you did, it would be all over for you just like how it had been countless other times. “...yeah.”

“You haven’t been returning my calls. Haven’t you missed me too?” He gave your hand a squeeze.

“Of course I have… it’s been really weird without you but you know that we can’t keep doing this… you know this is wrong…”

“No, Y/N, I don’t know. I don’t understand why you think we’re wrong. I know that we’ve both made mistakes but I really thought that our love was stronger than this. You were my girl. My forever…”

“God Yo, I really am not in the mood to have this discussion right now but fine! I caught you going through my phone, you always get pissy whenever I go somewhere without you, and you get so fucking jealous! It’s unreal! That time you went to my agency to check to see if I actually was there? That was weird, Shindou! And quite frankly, not healthy! And I’ve tried talking to you about this so many times and when I do, you act like you know what I’m saying but then you do it all over again!”

The tears came rushing back into his eyes. “I know,” he said, “I’ve been a real jerk about everything and I’m sorry. I just can’t help myself sometimes, Y/N. I love you so damn much that sometimes it hurts and I can act a little wild and I don’t realize what I’m doing or saying but I understand now that my actions have repercussions. Just, please, babe, please understand that… I can’t live without you.”

Shindou removed the pillow from between the two of you and scooted closer so your legs were touching. He tugged a strand of your hair. “Babyyy,” he cooed.

If your heart could shatter anymore that it already had, it would. You were hurting and the source of your heartbreak was right in front of you telling you what you wanted to hear but did not need. This feeling wasn’t fair! Not for you nor him.

You cleared your throat and involuntarily leaned into his touch. “I guess I could’ve been less, I don’t know, brutal… I’m sorry I ghosted you after everything but I didn’t know any other way… I have to be honest, you’ve scared me more than a couple times and that with my own feelings about all of this has been really hard for me too. I’m really sorry I hurt you, Yo. I’m hurt too. This sucks… so much but I don’t know. I think we could really use the space and then maybe we can see where we’re at in a couple months or something…”

You felt guilty snuggling up against him but he was warm and his scent was so nice and he was… familiar. It was wrong and you knew it was but he had always been a comfort to you. After all, you loved him.

But you didn’t see his smirk.

He wrapped an arm around you. You hardly noticed it happening. You were used him, used to his touch. His fingers brushed against your cheek down to your chin and tilted your head so you had to look at him.

“Did you get a new shampoo? You smell nice.” His thumb met your lips, drawing them out so they parted slightly. “You know you’ll always be my girl, right?”

Before you could even answer his lips were encasing yours; sweet but forceful, hot but soft, a surprise but just what you wanted, what you craved. You kissed him back running your hands through his unruly hair and tugged, a part of you wishing to pull him off of you while the other part of you knowing that he loved it.

He groaned deeply into this kiss and bit down on your bottom lip, warranting a small gasp from you which he took advantage of by rolling his tongue over yours. “Yeah,” he grinned and kissed you again, “yeah you’ll always be my girl.”

His hands wandered down and up your shirt, exploring your body, squeezing your sides, teasing your nipples. He knew how to play you, how to completely turn you on to him and as his hands trailed down your body, stopping to tickle your hip, and he did exactly that. His kisses trailed to your neck, savoring your sweet scent before dragging his tongue along the sensitive crook that made you squirm underneath him.

He chuckled, “tell me you still love me, angel.”

He aroused your puckered nipples, tweaking and pinching them. You let out a breathy sigh and rolled your hips up your front was pressed up against his hardened member. Even feeling him through your pajamas made feel so hot for him. You hated it. You hated that you wanted him. “I… do…” you let out a breathy sigh.

He pressed himself against you, rubbing up your pelvis, grinding against you. His teeth raked across skin making your stomach flutter and stirring you under your pants. His fingers traced down to the light dampening cloth and started to rub you between your lips. “And tell me you miss my fingers.”

He activated his quirk making his fingers vibrate for you. You shuddered in response. “F-fuck…”

“And tell me you miss my cock,” he growled before biting down hard on your neck.

“Fuck! No!” You whimpered and bucked your hips up. You pushed his shoulder and knocked him back. You couldn’t let him leave a mark on you!

Seemingly unphased, he simply wiped his lips and looked down at you, a hot-disheveled mess laying on the couch. He laid a hand down next to the curve of your waist and leveled his head with yours. “You don’t have to be scared of me, sweetheart,” he purred, “I only wanna take care of you. I only wanna make you cry in the best sort of way.”

“You’re the world’s greatest narcissist!” You spat. What the hell were you doing? This was not okay!

At first he looked hurt but his expression quickly changed to something different. Something darker. That grin. “Oh, I had no idea that I was internationally recognized.”

He reached his fingers back down but you slapped them away. “If you really just came here just so you could fuck me you can get lost right now.”

“Nooo, babe,” he grabbed your cheeks and forced you to look into his eyes, “If there’s anything you’re not, it’s vapid. I’m here because I’m in love with you and I haven’t left yet because you still love me. I’m here because we’re meant to be! That being said, the people wanna know: who have you been fucking?”

Dumbstruck, your mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” slowly, he started to massage your scalp, already caging you underneath him again, “you left me because you thought you found someone else, huh? So tell me Miss Y/N, who was it? I won’t be mad with you if you just tell me.”

“Yo Shindou, don’t come at me with your horrible accusations. I’ve never cheated on you!”

“Don’t tell me it was that amateur rookie, Chargebolt, or whatever the fuck unoriginal trash hero name he’s got. That little punk can’t seem to keep his hands to himself whenever he’s around…”

Your face flushed thinking about Kaminari. You rolled your eyes. “Denki’s just an old friend from school and he’s like that with literally everyone! And you know what! I don’t have to defend myself to you anymore.”

“Honestly I can’t say it doesn’t make sense. You hadn’t let me touch you much in weeks. Were you really getting your fix from that idiot?” Again his hands went down to your pajamas, this time sliding passed your elastic waistband. “Does he use his quirk on you, babe?” His fingers started to vibrate, making your body tense from the terribly wonderful sensation. “And does it feel as good as mine?”

“Yo…”

“Huh?” Slowly his fingers rubbed up and down your slit. You spread your legs from him as he teased you around your nub. “Did you moan his name just like you moan mine?”

“Yo… baby…” you sighed and grabbed onto his shoulders starting to ride the sensational waves he was sending through your body.

“Or can nobody make you feel as good as I can?” Two of his long fingers slid into you and you moaned out loud while his tremmering thumb rubbed your clit.

“He’s not… I’m not… ~ahha ahh, Yoo~,” you could already feel the coil up inside. You dug your nails into his shoulder and knitted brows together, letting out an embarrassing mewl.

He stopped his quirk but his fingers continued to thrust into you, denying you your release. “Yeah baby? It sounded like you had something to say?”

You swallowed your moan and closed your eyes. “Shindou, I don’t think you shhh- ~ohhh god~!”

He started his quirk up again and you clenched around his heinous fingers. “What’s that?” He snickered, “baby you’re gonna have to speak up! Are you trying to tell me that nobody can work you like me? You don’t have to be ashamed… you can tell me.”

You arched your back in response. He used that as an opportunity to wrap his free arm around your waist and pull you up against him so he could plunge into you deeper. You bit your lip and let out squeak, feeling the familiar pulsations build up again.

“Yeah?” He bowed his head and nibbled on your earlobe. “Spit it out, doll. We don’t have all night.”

“Mmmmphuuuhhh,” you couldn’t think, you could only feel and you were feeling him. Your toes curled as you began to spill out, becoming undone by the cocky sonofabitch finger fucking your pussy. He kissed your neck and didn’t stop until you were overwhelmed and shaking underneath him, crying out when your climax reached its peak.

“Awww,” he laughed, “my poor girl, you came so fast! Someone’s really been neglecting your needs, huh?” He raised your legs up and swiftly tore your pants away. “I guess we’re gonna have to make up for lost time,m?”

“Shindou,” you breathed, “please listen… we really… really can’t be doing this…”

“Hmm?” He lifted your shirt and began kissing your stomach. “And why is that? You think your boyfriend is gonna find you here falling apart for me?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend-!”

“Lift up your arms,” he commanded. Beside yourself, you do what you were told and let your shirt get stripped away from you. He groaned in appreciation before returning to nipping you down your body. “But you have me, sweetheart.”

He planted his lips against your shaking thighs, savoring the sound of your whimpers as his fingers began massaging you again. He has always liked hearing you squeak and he earned those pathetic noises from you when he started to suck on your soft skin, painting you in violet-red ovals. His tongue teased your clit and and you began to feel his quirk activate inside you again.

“Mmm, you taste as good as ever,” his tongue appreciatively swirled around you. Your cunt twitches as he alternated between using flat and pointed strokes. He’s soft on you but you’re already so sensitive that even hmthe gentle strokes of his tongue had you writhing underneath him. You found yourself in a spasmed daze as you run your hands through his hair and ride his tongue towards your second orgasm. You became a moaning mess, violently shaking against his power.

“God, Yo Shindou,” you cried, “that… you’re… so goood.”

“I know, angel,” he raised his head and winked at you. “Only for you though.”

With bated breath, you watched him lick his fingers clean before his pulled his shirt and sweater off. Jesus fucking Christ, his toned stomach nearly hurt to look at and by the look on his face, you could tell he knew that you loved to look at him. He grabbed your hand and placed his against his chest. You could feel his heart thrumming. “Only for you,” he reiterated.

You slid your fingers down his stomach and he flexed at your gentle touch.

“You want it, right babydoll?” His hands followed yours down to his belt buckle. “You wanna feel my cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Say so,” he undid his buckle. You pulled on his pants. It was so wrong. You tried to stay away from him, you tried to keep him out of your life but he waltzes into your house and suddenly you lose your mind!

“I wanna feel your cock…”

“Deep inside of you?”

“Deep inside of me, Shindou.”

Smirking, he hauled you on top of him and kissed you fiercely. He ran his hands down your back causing goosebumps to erupt across your arms and legs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down, easily slipping his throbbing shaft into your sopping wet heat.

“Ohhhh fucking hell,” he hissed out, “I’ve missed you so damn much!” His lips trailed over your collar bone, sheathing in and out of you. His cock felt fantastic, filling up your crevices and you rolled your hips and rode the man you promised yourself you’d never see again.

Even while on top of him, he had full control over your body, gripping your ass and thrusting upwards, fucking you harder with every mewl you would give him.

“Tell me who you ruined your cunt. Tell me you’re not gonna find anyone else you can fuck you as well as I can. Don’t deny it, Y/N. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you panted, running your hands through your hair. He’s always loved when your arms were stretched up in front him so he could see your everything and you could tell nothing has changed with his appreciative growls. He wrapped his hands around you and stood up. You squealed and wrapped your legs around him, scared and thrilled by the sudden elevation.

“I’ve got you, angel,” he assured, placing you down on the couch’s arm. He pushed your back and yanked your legs closer, deepening his penetration.

“God could you get any more gorgeous?” His hands began vibrating again and he pressed them down on your stomach enhancing every boiling sensational fiber in your body. You were ignited, in love or in just; so overwhelmed, you couldn’t tell! You moaned for him, and cried his name as his hands his quaking hands squeezed your sides.

“Ohhhh,” he chuckled, “with those pretty little noises comin’ out of your mouth, apparently you can.”

With that, you broke, coming completely undone in front of him, clenching around his unforgiving cock, tears streaming down your face from your over stimulation. You choked out strangled sobs until he finally pulled himself out. He looked like the devil while he stroked himself over you and his seed shot out onto your chest.

He grinned down at the ness he’s made of you. His hands rubbed his essence around your naked trembling body, the implications of what he’d done, you didn’t want to think about.

By the time your thoughts are finally composed, Shindou already had you wrapped up in his arms flesh up against his naked body. His hands never stopped touching you even while you lay languidly against him. Satisfied but defeated you let out sigh.

“You can’t ever leave me again, Y/N. I won’t allow it.”

Pensive, you let him stroke your hair like you’re some sort of doll. Maybe you were a doll how you’d just let him fuck you like that, even if you weren’t sure you wanted him to before he started touching. “Shindou, I’m sorry but…”

Your phone on the table cut you off. You glared at it. You already knew who it was.

“But… what?” His glade was dangerous. He didn't look away from you when he asked, “you gonna answer that?”

Slowly you shake your head. Shindou clicked his tongue and reached over to grab it.

“You were gonna ask me to leave, weren’t you?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He checked to see that if it was who he thought it was calling.

Caller ID: Denki with a little heart next to it.

“Alright cutie, I’ll tell you what- If you haven’t been fucking anyone then I’ll leave you alone for the night. But if you have then we’ll all have to face the repercussions. Do we have a deal?”

“Shindou, please don’t answer that.”

He scoffed and shook his head. Click.

“Hey honey, I’m running a little late tonight!” You could hear Kaminari’s voice through the phone. Shindou only smirked at you. “I was just wondering what kinda shake you wanted me to get ya! A little apology for lagging!”

Shindou looked at you and licked his lips. “Her favorite is strawberry.”

It was silent over the line. Terribly silent.

“Denki, you’re about to learn what happens when you touch my girl.”

He put the phone on speaker. You heard Denki’s bated breathing and a flood of questions rang out through the phone but Shindou just laughed over them. He pinned your hands back against the couch. Overwhelmed with panic, you can’t find the words to object. Still, when your body started to shake, you succumb to your, and Shindou’s, pleasure… over and over and over...

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction n @wickedlewicked @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita a @captain-sin-allmight-queen n @diisasterbii @iceformer r @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @rubyred-imagines imagines @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @davalia @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

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jenovahh · 4 years

Text

The Honey Pot - Ch. 4 - Lord Zenos

“It’s h-him...” You hear the referee whisper behind you in fear, their words temporarily jolting you back to the moment as you see that Nael is slowly amassing a large pool of blood on the floor.

Before you can even turn to try and do what first aid you know, Zenos’ velvety voice reaches you, as if he doesn’t even have to raise it. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” He chuckles, cocking his hip as he gazes at you through half lidded eyes. “Father had said I should try to instill loyalty within our ranks by not killing those who fail me...I was ready to try, mind you. Until she had, quite literally, tried to stab you in the back.”

“Please...she’s bleeding out,” You begin, but he silences you with a look, one that sends lightning racing across your skin.

“She has worn out her use.” He drawls, hopping the railing to land on the ground floor as if it were nothing. Down here you can see how tall he truly is, the snug fit of his waistcoat betraying the musculature beneath. He was fit, that much was certain, and he towered over the crowd as he stared you down. A sword of Doman origin hung at his hip, surprising, given that Garleans preferred gunblades, as it was a weapon that originated in Garlemald. Beginning to move toward you, your eyes widened as the crowd didn’t give him a wide berth; they damn near parted like the Ruby Sea.

Clenching your fists, you gritted your teeth. “She’s still...you’re just going to let her die?” You snarl, giving another glance to the dying woman behind you.

“I am.” Zenos answers easily enough with a smile. As handsome as it is, his callous nature grates on you far more. Sparing him one last glance you make a dive for Nael, unable to get close enough as you feel the air rush around you, bringing the knife from your boot to quickly block the blade that would’ve cut your arm off.

In the ring now, you can truly see his bulk, feel his strength as you defend his entire blade with nothing but a pocket knife. His expression is neutral, but you can see a fire within his blue eyes as he levels you with his stare. “So you dared disobey me…” He breathes, breath minty and cool as it ghosts across your face. Icy blue eyes race across your features, almost analytically. “But it seems the speed I had witnessed earlier was not a fluke.”

Suddenly the pressure is gone, standing to his full height before you as he sheathes his blade. Looking over your head, he seems to make eye contact with someone. “Save the girl. If she hasn’t lost enough blood by now.” You practically still at the complete shift in his tone; you hadn’t noticed he had a teasing, lilting note to his voice when he spoke directly to you. Speaking to whatever lackey he was looking at, it was if he was giving orders to something lower than a dog.

“Normally, I would not reward such disobedience…” he drawls, bringing your attention back to him. He moves to step even closer, almost as if to see how near you will let him be. His eyes race across you again, this time more appreciatively. “But...you are special. My beast.”

Eyebrows furrowing, you watch as he brushes past you, hopping out the ring in one smooth motion. “Beast?” you murmur angrily, unsure if you like how easily he turned his back toward you. He strides over to where Hollow Glacier and Swywyda are standing, trembling in fear. They jolt as Zenos whips out a business card, its black gloss shining in the low light. “She is yours, is she not? Contact this number, and you will be compensated. Perhaps, quite handsomely for such a find. She was wasted on you.”

Swywyda looks ready to open her eager mouth to say something in defense of the Marauders, but Hollow is quick to save their skins by hastily taking the card from Zenos’ hands. “O-Of course. Thank you for your generosity.” He bows, shoving Swywyda hard to bow as well.

Turning to face you once again, Zenos arches a delicate eyebrow. “Well?” he prompts, gesturing to the door. “Hurry along, before I change my mind.” His voice has regained that lilting note to it once again, but the order is implicit. You can’t explain the urge to resist this man’s every order, but fight against it as you hop out the ring in the same smooth motion. The crowd parts for you too now, in a perfect line that leads to Zenos, and you find yourself wondering if it is out of fear for him being the Galvus heir…

Or for the sheer power you can tell rolls beneath the surface.

You give one final look back to Hollow and Swywyda, waving a small goodbye before jogging to catch up with Zenos’ long strides. He’s already outside by the time you reach him, the chauffeur holding the door to a luxury car open. Swallowing thickly, you watch as he gets in with all the grace of a dancer, the slightly older man giving you an expectant look as you give a deep sigh. Stepping inside, the leather seats are plush and warm, the door shutting behind you before you can even get comfortable.

Zenos is blessedly on the opposite side, hands steepled primly in his lap as you fumble to put your seatbelt on. “Concerned with other’s lives and your own safety...one might think you weren’t meant for the life of a street gang.” He comments smoothly, his eyes boring into you as you feel the click of the seatbelt.

Doing your best to keep your heartbeat under control, you meet his unnerving stare head on. “When you go flying face first through the windshield, we’ll see who’s meant for life at all.” You reply, hoping your voice is as steady as it sounded in your head. You nearly blanch as Zenos roars with laughter, before he takes advantage of your restrained state to lean into your space. You wince as your back presses harshly into the door, nowhere to go as the Galvus heir’s breath mingles with yours.

Now out of the warehouse, you can finally breathe him in, and boy does he smell lovely. Your eyes rake across his form much like he did yours earlier, noticing the finer points of his body. His golden hair reaches just barely past his chest, obviously well kept. His entire outfit is clearly tailored to fit, not a button too tight for someone who has bulky muscle. Everything about him is imposing, and even were he not the heir to one of the biggest drug dealers this side of the Ruby Sea, people would respect him regardless.

“Tell me, my beast…”

At that you bare your fangs, letting your ire be known. “What’s with that? My name is Honey. Not beast.” You hiss, growing angrier at his smirk.

“Your name doesn’t matter.” He states simply, and you have to remind yourself of your mission fairly quickly to keep from decking him in the face. “Not in the Hunt.”

“The Hunt?” You repeat, wishing he’d just go back to his side of the car already.

“I know you could sense me, my beast. Could feel the danger I presented.” He purrs, the sounds rich and deep. You find yourself a bit more captivated than you thought as he continues to speak. “You could sense me as easily as I could sense you. From the very moment you walked into that sham of a contest, I knew you were different.” You gasp as one of his fingers gently traces your jaw before capturing your chin in his hand, tilting it to the side. You try to jerk away reflexively, but his raw strength holds you in place. Leaning closer still, you squirm as you can feel him chuckle. “Even now, you try to fight back. I like it.”

Finally, he pulls away, eyes swirling with a myriad of so many emotions you find yourself unsure what to think. “Normally you would be shoved into a suitable rank after one of these little tournaments...but I think we both know your skill far exceeds even the most skilled fighters within our...business.” He says this almost thoughtfully, reclining against the door.

He won’t stop staring. Won’t stop appraising you like some Twelve’s damned piece of meat. “Take a picture.” You snap, crossing your arms and staring out the window like a petulant child. You don’t have to face him to feel his amusement at your behavior.

“We will have that taken care of once we reach my home.” You whip back around at that, feeling his amusement grow exponentially. “Did I not say you were different? Your skill has earned you a far more prestigious spot than wasting away in the barracks with such lowlives…I must still sample your skills myself, but I think for appearances, you will make a fine bodyguard.” Giving nothing but a quirk of your brow, you’re content to spend the rest of the car ride in silence.

The city passes by relatively quickly, your eyes drawing a mental map as you can see yourself visibly enter a different tax bracket. Passing over the Tasogare bridge, you watch in muted wonder as the car sails through the Kogane Dori; a strip where big shots like the Galvuses did their more legal dealings. You had never been on this side of town before, for the reasons of Kugane not being your hometown as well as being too poor to come here. You can feel Zenos’ eyes upon you as your eyes get their fill of the towering structures that line the streets, trying to mask your own curiosity to no avail.

“You will be afforded a far more comfortable life than you are used to.” Zenos speaks and you throw him an annoyed look, to which he doesn’t even flinch.

“You sure are talkative.” You grumble. From what you had been told the Galvus heir cared for no one but himself and only lived for the thrill of the kill. That he seemed so intent on engaging in conversation with you had thrown off your plans entirely.

“To you.” He practically croons, his velvety voice slipping over your skin. “So far, you are worth my time. Disappoint me, and well, I certainly have no use talking to a corpse.” The delivery of that statement alone is far smoother than it has any business being. Far too self assured as if he has no problem killing you, and he doesn’t just mean as a mere matter of skill. Pursing your lips together, you catch his gaze from the corner of your eye, letting him hold your attention for a few moments.

“I suppose it would be hard to talk when you’re dead, wouldn’t it?” You snark back, somehow unable to help yourself. Even with Lyse and Y’shtola you are not so quick to snap back, treating your close friends much kinder.

Something in this man makes you want to snap and bite and snarl.

His smirk broadens once again, the emotions in his eyes unreadable as he runs a hand through the length of his golden hair. “Some might say such confidence would border on cockiness, my beast. For your sake, let’s hope you can meet your own expectations.” He chuckles lowly, and you get a terrible sense of dread.

The city passes by for a number of minutes until the chauffeur pulls into the basement of a familiar high rise on the Kugane skyline; the blood red lights of Magitek Industries gleaming onto the city below. The garage lights up as the car drives further into its depths, the lights subsequently shutting off behind you. Unsurprising, given that the Galvuses are one of the forerunners in Magitek technology.

Pulling to a stop, the chauffeur lets Zenos out of the car first before circling the car to open your door. Whispering a quiet thank you (which seems to surprise the man by his upraised eyebrows) you quickly and quietly follow behind what is slowly starting to feel like your captor. His strides are long, which is expected for someone of his height, and from behind you muse on how someone could manage to have the perfect amount of height and bulk in such an attractive package.

At least the Galvus heir didn’t hurt to look at. Not that that was any of your concern.

“You must stay here tonight unfortunately, until I have adequately tested your skills. While I am certainly not doubtful of your prowess, even I still have to answer to my father.” The way he says father is with such distaste, you note. Bored, but as if he can hardly keep himself from grounding it out between clenched teeth. Tucking that knowledge away you frown as he steps into an elevator, forced to follow him in despite sharing the close quarters of his car earlier.

The ride is quiet save for your shared breathing, your blood feeling like it's almost jumping in your veins just by being near him. You can’t tell if it wants you to flee or to tackle him down.

What is he...

The elevator dings, and the floor you are deposited upon is somewhat dark. Once again the lights flash on as you follow him down the long corridor, the heels of your boots clicking against the fine tile. Reaching a door, Zenos quickly places his hand near an access point which merrily beeps, the door next to it sliding open in a loud whirr of machinery. “These will be your rooms, for now.” He drones, having regained that bored edge to his voice.

“You will find a bathroom to clean yourself in the corner over there and anything else you will be needing for your stay is already stocked within the room.” Glancing quickly over the room, you find what he says to be true, the suite looking more like something out of a four star hotel than sleeping quarters for a gang. Walking past you, you stare long and hard at his broad back as he stops at the door. “I, however, will be going home for the evening. Someone will be here shortly after sunrise to prepare you for my arrival tomorrow.”

Looking over his shoulder, he smiles in a way that is almost disconcerting. “If you need anything between then and now, there is a phone on the nightstand, near the bed.” Holding a hand up you spot your cellphone in it, your eyes widening as you wonder when he could’ve possibly palmed it off you. “I’ll be keeping this. Whether you pass or fail tomorrow, it will be destroyed.”

“Hey! You can’t just destroy my phone! What about,”

“What? Missing your ‘friends’ at that dump already?” He taunts, giving the phone a light shake.

“Hardly.” You snort, clenching your fists tight.

“Well then, my beast, who possibly could be within this phone that you treasure so dearly…?” He muses, tuning the phone toward his face and giving the lock button a press. Fear races down your spine for a split moment before you squash it down, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Who said anything about anyone?” You growl, doing everything within your power to hold yourself back. “I just got a buncha shit in there I wanted to keep.” You lie, praying he buys it.

“Is that so…” He murmurs, twirling the phone this way and that. You gasp as he drops it to the floor from his hand, the heel of his shoe stomping down on the screen forcefully. The phone gives a sick crackle and hiss before sputtering out. “And now you don't. Rest well, my beast.”

It is a few moments as you stand there dumbfounded as he turns to walk out the door, before your mind catches up with your body already moving forward, powered by rage. “How dare you, you bastard!” You yell but the door shuts in your face, locked as well when you try to open it. You can feel his amusement radiating from the other side, your fists hardly feeling the pain as you bang on the door. Even through the sturdy metal you can hear his footsteps quietly walk away, and you wonder if he can hear the tears streaming down your face.

Dropping to your knees, you swiftly pick up the crushed remains of your phone, shards of glass falling from what remains of the screen. Your vision is blinded by the tears pooling in your eyes, the leather of your gloves rough as you drag them across your face to stop the tracks of your tears. “M-Minfilia…” With trembling hands you pop out the fixture on the side, unable to even sigh with relief as the small card within remains intact.

Standing, you trudge to where the bed is pushed against the wall, it’s overly plush covers looking only somewhat inviting. Finally dragging your gaze to the window, you are pulled from your sorrow by the view of the city, having never been this high up in a skyscraper. The city glitters before you so prettily, taking your breath away as you clutch the small card tightly within your hand.

What now? Captain Merlwyb had expected for you to get taken in by the Galvuses yes, but it seems as if they did not account for just how close the Galvus heir would want to keep you. The plan still involved you being able to move around independently, to not be under such close watch of the Galvus heir. If he saw your skills tomorrow, then surely…

You had to throw the fight.

Even entertaining the thought pulled your lips downward in a frown, but you could think of no other way to try and salvage your mission. You were sure that your superiors thought you were safe and out of harm’s way…

Little did they know you had leapt right into the jaws of the very beast the Galvus heir thought you to be.

Your stomach churns uncomfortably at your self-imposed stress, and at that moment you think you could do with a nice warm shower to take your mind off things. Stripping down, you hurry into what feels like a luxury bathroom, grumbling for a few moments as you figure out how to work the shower to a comfortable temperature. Sure enough does the water wash the night’s events away, cleansing both body and soul.

You let the water cascade over your skin as your thoughts plague you once again, drifting back to Zenos, as much as you hated the fact. There was no way around it; he was the very crux of your mission to topple the crime overlord that was his father. But nothing could’ve prepared you for how quickly he took to you; you had expected him to at least treat you no better than the dirt under his feet.

Yet he had personally saved you. A fact that strikes you only now under the stream of the water. Zenos yae Galvus, heir to Galvus Industries, had saved you. There was no way that Hollow Glacier or Swywyda would’ve made it in time to aid you, and even you doubted your ability to dodge quick enough with how close she was when you had turned to face Nael. Was he truly that impressed by your ability, to go out of his way to protect you?

Too bad that you’ll have to let him down in the morning you think, noticing the water doesn’t seem to run cold. Shutting it off, you gingerly step out, grabbing perhaps the fluffiest towel you’ve ever held. Fumbling through the drawers you manage to find some clothes suitable enough to be pajamas. The bed is as lavish as the rest of the room unsurprisingly, its cushy covers seeming to pull you into a sweet embrace.

An embrace so sweet, it is already morning when you next open your eyes.

You only feel moderately rested, considering that while you were no night owl, even you don’t get up at sunrise. You make a point to get a solid hit in on Zenos for making you rise at god awful hours of the morning, for surely even the son of a CEO didn’t need to get up at daybreak.

Trudging back to the bathroom you quickly brush your teeth and splash water on your face, style your hair suitable enough to where it shouldn't get accidentally stepped on or tugged. You had already set out some work out clothes the night prior for you to change into, the cotton loose and breathable as it settles on your skin. Dressed and prepped for the day, you feel antsy without your phone, feeling a sense of disconnect from your life.

Unthinking, you run your foot lightly over the small card that sits in your tennis shoes, praying that Zenos will not go as far as making you undress to find anything else hidden on your person. Soon enough is there a knock at the door, an Au’ra man dressed in a suit holding out a breakfast tray. “Good morning. Lord Zenos has requested you eat your breakfast in a timely manner and meet him in the gym within the hour.”

Delicately taking the tray, you watch as the man places a small device on top of your tray before you can retreat back into the moderate safety of your room. “Use this device to page me when you have finished eating and I’ll be back to take you to him.” With nothing more to say, he steps back and begins to stride down the hallway. You watch him until he disappears around the corner, quirking a singular eyebrow. “Lord?” You mumble, stepping back into your room to sit at the small table.

Uncovering the tray, you sigh at the nearly overwhelming amount of protein that covers the plate. Dzo Eggs and sausages of varying types are littered across the plate, with only a bowl of mixed fruit and juice to compliment it. You won’t deny that after not eating for about twelve bells it does look mouthwatering, and dig in as you watch the sun gleam on the glassy panes of the Kugane skyline. You admit, for someone who must seem like a hooligan that a rich boy picked up off the street, the Galvuses are at least hospitable, seeming to spare no luxury in your stay so far. The food is clearly cooked by a master chef, and for a moment you forget yourself once you finish the meal ready to sit down with a good book and continue to enjoy the sunrise.

Sadly your eyes drift over the alarm clock sitting on the desk, its glaring numbers reminding you of your situation. While you feel the sudden urge to make the bastard wait, you still have a mission to complete. Reaching for the device it takes a bit of finagling, but you eventually figure out how to page the earlier housekeep to retrieve you from your room.

“Hello again, Miss.” He greets, watching with a trained neutral expression as you step out into the hall. “Lord Zenos awaits you in the communal gym that is for use amongst the...clients here.” He informs as he quickly strolls down the hall, sighing as you hurry your pace to keep up. You’re hardly able to give a long glance at anything as you pass by, having to focus on not losing the housekeep lest you fall behind and get lost.

So far it seems like any normal office building to someone none the wiser, with multiple people of multiple races going about their day. Following the Au’ra man into the elevator, you take a few calming breaths, hands clammy as you think about how you’re going to convince Zenos you’re not as great as he hoped. The silence from your guide doesn’t help to ease your nerves, your anxiety rising as you both step from the elevator onto a much more intimate floor. Walking down the hall you can hear the echo of grunting and combat, the sound getting louder as you finally reach the doors of the communal gym.

It is far bigger than you expected, the walls lined with only the finest machinery gil can buy as well as multiple types of practice weaponry. As you step in your presence goes unnoticed at first, the various men and women caught up in their training. There are very few Garleans present you realize, meaning that perhaps the higher ups have an even more personal gym for their own use.

Across the way, Zenos stands, his skin dewy with sweat as he somehow manages to elegant down half of his water bottle. His hair is pulled into a high ponytail, the style accentuating his already sharp features and even sharper eyes as they take note of your presence and burn bright with anticipation. “My beast. You’ve come.” He grins, the action looking almost unnatural for how devious it looks.

“Yeah, well you didn’t give me much choice did you? Abducting me and all…” You sigh, rolling your neck nonchalantly as the entire gym’s eyes focus on you. You try to brush it off by heading to the wall where several cubbies rise from the floor to the ceiling, if only for appearances seeing as you brought nothing along with you.

“Come now. Even your blood must sing, ready for our duel.” He purrs, the sound going right up your spine in what feels like should be all the wrong ways, yet somehow feels right. You stare at him for a moment from the corner of your eye, inwardly praying that he doesn’t know he’s right.

Praying harder that he won’t be too angry when you intentionally hold back.

“It did no such thing.” You answer coolly, turning to face him fully as you give cock your hip to the side. “I’m ready to get this over with.”

If he notices your change in demeanor he does not show it, remaining silent for a few moments. “Very well then. Let us dance, my beast.” He motions for you to follow, the few gang members hurrying off the open space on the floor. Everyone crowds along the walls, even going as far to sit on the machines where there is space, clearly not wanting to miss what will be the beat down of the century.

Standing there with him now, you finally feel the intimidation the crowd felt last night. Wearing nothing but a snug workout shirt and matching pants, he almost looks as if he is someone you would spot in any average gym, save the fact that he has a face fit for the runway. You both stand there measuring each other up for moments, before he slowly brings up his fists, you doing the same out of reflex. You curse yourself for being unable to even hold yourself incorrectly as he begins to circle you, your body instinctively mirroring his movement.

Just by looking at him you can see his perfect form, with not a muscle out of place. He is clearly waiting for you to make the first move, making you purse your lips at how to best proceed. He certainly won’t give you an opening, and you can’t make one without showing your skill.

Patience is not one of his virtues it seems, as it seems he tired of waiting and strikes first. The blow is nothing extraordinary, coming from malms away even with his speed, but you force yourself to merely raise your arms up and block it, wincing at the sheer force he exerts. He swings again, advancing on you with rapid blows that force you on the defensive. You do your best to maintain your distance but he seems to grow angrier with each hit he lands, swinging harder, faster to where his advance is brutal.

“Fight.” He growls, sweeping his leg out behind yours to send you falling backwards. You quickly use your momentum to turn and roll out of the way of his kick, watching as his blue eyes grow almost manic as he pursues you. “Fight. Me.” He snarls, golden hair whipping with his movement, and for a moment you feel fear at the crazed look in his eye.

“Fight!” He lands a solid hit on your jaw that makes you see stars, but it's thankfully not hard enough that the bone is broken. “Why do you not fight?!” He all but roars, landing another decent hit to your gut. You whimper through the pain but move yourself out of his reach again. “Do you want to die?” His voice is like ice and the room feels like it to, the gym entirely silent as they watch their heir smack this smaller woman around.

“Maybe you should just hit harder--” Your taunt is cut off by an elbow to your rib, a cry of pain ripped from your throat as you meet his eyes like a scolded child, trembling at the malice you see there.

“A disappointment.” His voice is bored as he lands another hit, pulling another pained whine from you as you struggle to stand. “A failure.” He spits, knocking you down on your back. Standing over you, he reaches down to grab you by the front of your shirt, his strength allowing him to pick you up with one arm. “And to think…” he trails off, eyes jumping across your bruised face.

“I should’ve expected such from a savage.”

At that, your world stills.

“What...did you call me?” You cough out, hands slowly reaching up to clutch his wrist.

“I don't repeat myself, savage--” Your fist is in his face before he can finish, his hand releasing you instantly. Roaring you feel adrenaline shoot through your body as your hands reach out for him, hands grabbing at his shirt, feet spreading to plant yourself firmly on the ground. With a show of strength you yell as you grab Zenos and throw him onto his back, the gym echoing with the hard thud as he lands.

Blinded by rage, you move to kick at him to which he quickly rolls out the way, his reflexes as quick as yours though he looks noticeably stunned as you rush at him. Instinct guides you through your fury as you duel with the Garlean man before you, unable to feel the pain from his earlier blows as you fight. His shock quickly turns to steel as he turns back onto the offensive, however you do not merely take his hits, opting to dodge them to try and get some of your own in.

He won’t let you, his large frame abnormally nimble as he evades your fists. He laughs, the sound as manic as you would expect, but it only angers you more. His smile makes you see red, and it is then you have no other desire than to put this man in his place.

You close your eyes.

Hear…

The gym is still silent. Your heart bangs like a drum. Zenos’ fist sails through the air.

Feel…

The floor feels solid beneath you as you once again spread your legs in preparation. You quell your rage just enough to take a deep breath, feeling reason guide your actions.

Think…

There are no thoughts save for the sole wish to take Zenos yae Galvus and his father down.

You take his blow to your shoulder, gritting your teeth at the impact, but that sacrifice is all you needed to get a decent grab on his arm and shirt again. With satisfaction you watch his eyes go wide as you channel his own momentum against him and spin him behind you, tripping him along the way so that he lands painfully on his back. In a second you are upon him, hand still fisted in his shirt, your other hand upraised in a fist as you kneel on his chest, reared back for if he even thinks about moving.

Leaning in close, you bare your teeth. “Never...call me a savage again, you Garlean scum.” You growl lowly, ignoring the several gasps you hear across the room.

Zenos stares dumbfounded from the floor, the very picture of disbelief. He hasn’t made to move, only staring at you somewhat blankly as if his mind is catching up with the rest of him. Your chest heaves with exertion, grip loosening as the adrenaline slowly drains from your system. Pain courses through your body slowly until you are hardly able to sit up at all, let alone keep Zenos pinned to the ground.

You begin to slump over before a strong hand catches you immediately, your crystal eyes meeting with stunning blue. He says nothing as you yank yourself from his hold, his body shifting beneath yours as he sits up. “You were holding back.”

You can’t school your expression fast enough to not give yourself away, and you feel like that alone will be your downfall in this whole undercover nonsense. “You don’t even hit that hard.” You grumble as you force yourself to stand, locking your jaw as to not show on your face how your muscles scream at you. “Are we done now?” You hiss through clenched teeth, moving to head out the door.

“And just where are you going?” You hear Zenos question, hearing his footsteps behind you.

“To shower. It’s what you usually do after a workout, ain’t it?” You snap, throwing him a nasty look before continuing to trudge toward the door. Taking another step your leg cramps and pain races upward as you begin to fall downward. Zenos’ hand is there to catch you before you can even hit the floor, his grip strangely fierce.

“I believe you will be needing more than a shower, my beast.” He purrs, none too gently pulling you up to your feet.

“Let me go,” You yelp as you go crashing back down onto the floor, flashing him a vehement look as he gazes down at you.

“If you want to refuse my help, that’s fine by me, my beast. So far you are the only dog that seems to snap at the heels of it’s master.” He chuckles, crouching down so that he can be closer to your face. “I don’t appreciate you trying to hold back for whatever reason...but if I must insult you for the challenge I crave, so be it...savage.”

You can see your own hate reflected in his condescending stare, vowing to do more than throw him to the ground the next time you get the chance. Perhaps down a flight of stairs.

“I’ve seen all I need to. I will have someone come and bring you to the estate.” Those words alone douse you like a bucket of cold water, snuffing out the flame of your rage.

“E-Estate?” You stammer as you watch him head out the door.

“Of course. I’ve decided you will be kept as my bodyguard. Congratulations.” With that he steps out and strolls down the hallway, leaving the gym as quiet as he had kept it.

“...Fuck.”

#zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #zenos #Final Fantasy XIV #my writings #THP

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fanficparker · 5 years

Text

Faking, Falling > Part 2

Harrison Osterfield x Reader (Fake dating! Unrequited love switcheroo!)

Word count: ~2.3k words

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Fuckboy attitude

Summary: Harrison has some walls he wants to break but ends up repairing them again & again.

<< PART 1 [ MASTERLIST ] PART 3 >>

Ting

The light sound of clinking wine glasses, followed by soft laughs filled the room, a lot less busy than it was on weekends.

"You are really late Harrison, we were expecting you to flake out!" Claire chuckled, walking towards Harrison, her smooth tanned legs shimmering in the yellow light. Before Harrison could remove the wine glass from his lips and answer, she snatched it from his hand and sipped the liquid. It didn't even take her a minute to throw her legs over Harrison's and sit on his lap.

"Sorry babe, I was thirsty," she simply said, ignoring her old question and Harrison was no more bothered to answer it as her sitting on his lap was more of a headache for him.

"I will get myself a beer then," he tried to move but she pushed him back.

"Please babe take me home..." She whined like a child wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Harrison's friends scrunched their nose giving him the 'no PDA' look. He nodded ignoring the beautiful girl whose presence was mentally strangling him. To be honest, he wasn't interested to go anywhere with her. Claire was already drunk much before Harrison joined them in the pub, he was sure she had already undressed and dressed twice with some other guy or guys. Her dress was creased and her hair looked like sex hair. He didn't want her hands on his body, who knows if she even washed them after whatever she did. The thought of Claire's maybe dirty hands made the bile rise up to his throat. But he didn't want to look disrespectful or create any scene. It isn't like Claire never slept with him before, but he didn't want her anymore.

Slowly and slowly he felt drunker than any of the days he was actually drunk. He hasn't even properly taken a sip of alcohol but his head was already spinning. He could no more tell what his friends were talking about or hear the music. Maybe it was because of the pair of boys standing at the corner, their backs facing him. Both were shorter than him and had brown curls. Just one of them had thicker curls than the other and maybe his shade of brown was much closer to red. Damn, he wanted it to be Tom and Harry. They must be Tom and Harry. He hasn't met any of the Hollands or Tuwaine for a long time. He wished with all his heart that they were them. He waited for them to turn to face him. He felt weird. He felt hopeless yet hopeful. He never shifted his gaze from the boys. Maybe, maybe someone told them of his weird gaze because they shifted and turned, finally.

No.

It wasn't them. They were someone else, just had similar hair. They squinted their eyes making Harrison turn to the other side only to face his new friends.

Friends...

Sometimes he asked himself why he was even considering them friends. They weren't anything like Tom or Tuwaine or the twins. But the latter were now no more his friends. The spinning in his head was no more alone, his throat and chest were burning too. He tapped Claire's shoulder but she still didn't move.

"Get up. Get the fuck up!" He whispered in her ear with gritted teeth, almost threatening her. Claire didn't say anything else and removed herself from him. He ignored the questions his 'friends' were asking and walked out of the pub.

No one followed him, and he didn't expect either.

At least he could breathe air. Instead of getting in his car, he decided to walk along the pavement. He shoved his hands inside his jeans pocket, he felt the chill breeze touching his cheeks but it only made the burning sensation bearable. He kept walking until he saw the café, the café he had spent the most time in. It was small and closed but one of the finest in London.

He peeked through the glass, the lights from the street lamps showed the setup. His head drifted back to memories... The memories... The memories when he and Tuwaine would tease Tom and Harry with the breakfast pouring their least favourite syrup on their waffles or pancakes while Sam was the one shaking his head at the stupidity. No one cared if people watched them, made faces for their nuisances, all that mattered was they were friends, more like brothers enjoying in their typical 'div' manner. Sometimes Harrison's sister Charlotte used to join them, but she had her head inside the phone, Sam's girlfriend joined frequently, sometimes more friends and sometimes Shelly used to join them too...

Shelly...

He puffed air remembering her face making the fog stick to the window panes. He rubbed it off with his palm, but this time instead of looking inside he focused on his own reflection.

He looked different. The mirror could tell he had changed from outside, but what it couldn't tell was how much he had changed from inside.

He thought he hated the old him. But he was wrong. He hated what he has become. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, calming his heart rate. He didn't want to go to his lonely flat. It's been a while he slept in his family house or ate with them. He missed how much he wanted to pat his dog Monty, how much he wanted to play with him or smile at the breakfast table when his mom made him breakfast accompanied with a little smiley she drew using ketchup or honey.

He checked the time. It was already 1:30 am. The new Harrison would never call his family at this time, he hated when they asked too many questions. But he missed the old him. He didn't waste any time and called his mom telling her that he was coming home and that there was nothing to worry about. He didn't care his family home was the complete opposite of where he was right now, he just drove there and it felt comforting.

* * *

You exhaled deeply, sipping your coffee.

"Is that Harrison's car?"

Yes, it was his car. You saw him through the open window. You instantly checked the time on your phone.

8:20 am...

Wasn't he supposed to reach there by six?! That's the only reason you had to stay late yesterday...

The curiosity in you got you up and you found yourself following him behind in your car.

All you remember was searching for the perfect opportunity when he was vulnerable. You were ready to roll your dice. You parked your car just behind him and followed him slowly as he hurriedly rushed inside the building.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

George wasn't yelling but he surely sounded frustrated.

"I just got... stuck in the traffic." Harrison moved his hand through his unruly, uncombed hair, something he did when he knew his excuse was scarily dumb.

He just felt too comfortable and safe sleeping in his family home. He knew he was already an hour late but still waited to eat breakfast with his family and petted his dog. But his mom didn't make that smiley with ketchup on his breakfast this time... Nor his sister talked about any new meme she stumbled across or about her new friends or a crush or something hilarious that happened in a party she attended. They did smile at him and were nice to him. But they weren't them... Maybe... maybe because he wasn't himself.

"It's two and a half hours past six. The photographers were really pissed. It's dangerous for my reputation. How am I supposed to face them again? Should I shut this project?" George slid into the chair, hands on his face. Harrison was always a bit late, but a 'bit' and this time it was literally too much especially when George had invited some prestigious photographers for magazines and advertising.

Harrison could see everything taking a worse turn, his own reputation seemed to be in danger right now. And then he saw you through his peripheral vision. He didn't care whether he considered you stalking but the fact that you were always punctual (and hence trustworthy for George) was something he could use.

"My car first stuck in the traffic and then got punctured, Y/n was right there. You can ask her!" He pointed at your direction as George's head shot up.

Harrison made a pleading expression with his face. Lips shut tight but a bit pouted, eyebrows bent and focused in the middle. He knew you were someone who would literally help anyone in trouble and he was shameless about using you.

But what he didn't know was you were into a game and were ready to help anyone maybe, expect him.

You gave him a smile and he felt assured. He straightened his posture and a proud smile tugged on his lips.

"Is it so Y/n?" George looked at you and you walked to both of them.

"I mean I would really help Harrison with his punctured car if I was there. I got out of the home after 8 myself and found him speeding. I have no idea. And basically, Cath drives via highway and is still on time, I don't know how Harrison got stuck in the traffic. Is it so Harrison?"

All this time Harrison looked at you wide-eyed, jaw slack. He was sure you would say yes, but wow... He had no idea what to say back, he kept shifting his gaze from George to you and you to George.

"Well, I gotta do my work so excuse me." And you moved away from the drama with a smirk on your face. Smirking was no more his thing now.

* * *

You were relaxing at your table when Harrison stormed in.

"Are you possessed or something?" He said with an annoyed expression. "You really could have simply said yes and you said---"

"The truth?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Uh-ah" He was once again devoid of replies, mouth slightly open. Still, he tried his best to defend himself.

"But-but... You could have lied. Now George will think I am a liar." He was unsure of his own words, he threw his hands to look justified, to hide how much your words were able to manipulate him, make him look weak.

"Become a liar myself to save your lying ass. Sounds fair." You pretended as if his presence or absence didn't matter making you read the magazine than looking at him.

"It affected my self-esteem." He said quietly which made you look at him.

"Like you cared for mine at Rick's party. I didn't ask you to lie, to pretend as if... as if you like me. And how did you treat me?"

This time you weren't acting...

"It's old Y/n. No one remembers---"

"I remember! Wished someone did that to you. You would know how it felt." You made your way out, not noticing how your little words completely swept away all the colour from his face.

***

Days went by and you were happy that you were really not at all giving Harrison any of your attention, although after the little conversation he didn't actually bother you much. Maybe your little plan was working. But you weren't satisfied with your work, you wanted all your venom for him. You wanted to hate him utterly and wanted him to know that you hated him.

Maybe you could do something terrible like he did?

But then won't you both be the same?

But what he did, is it worth to be forgiven or for god sake forgotten?

You thought about it all weekend, reaching no conclusion in specific.

There's isn't just any article available on the internet to teach you how to hate someone.

The more you thought about it, the more you asked yourself the question, is your goal is to show him hate or make him realise what he did deserve the hate?

There weren't many days left for the shoot to get over. You won't have to deal with him anymore. Why waste this precious time thinking about him? But you really can't completely get him out of your mind at the same time.

And then it hit like a switch. Simon who is also your assistant had a good fight over something with Harrison. And Simon was also the one who just a week ago asked you on a date. Why don't you date your enemy's enemy? Especially when Simon is nothing like Harrison...

***

All-day during the work you tried your best to be near Simon and when finally, in the lunchtime he looked relaxed you decided it was the best time to talk.

"I really thought about what you said. I mean I really thought about you..."

He gave you a confused look.

"Thought about what exactly?"

"I mean you are really nice and sweet and I think I can manage my time and think about... You know that... date?"

Fuck. This wasn't supposed to be this direct. What if he's no more interested. You sank on your seat, about to die from embarrassment when Simon chuckled... More like happily giggled.

"I am really really happy that you thought about it. I will love to follow up."

There was the biggest smile on his lips which in turn made you smile.

Fuck that time when Harrison made you smile with his fake ones. Fuck him.

"So tonight?" He asked.

"Tonight." You replied almost trying not to smile more.

Now all you have to do is go on this date and also in some way make Harrison know how much his enemy was better than him...

_________________________

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geminioriginalsimagines · 5 years

Text

Crush

Requests: “Please!!! I am begging you, darling best writer in the whole of Tumblrverse. Write a smut based on that gif where Kai licks his lips and has blood on his face and used magic to pull someone closer. Cause Holy Crap!!!! That was a TOTAL Turn on...” “any kai smuts on the way???? and also umm can you do a smut based off kai with like his coat cause he looks like a god with coats or even jackets on (:” (Credits to gif owners! Because DAMN) Warning! Visual smut ahead! Also very long!

"I have to say that there's been a record. Mystic Falls hasn't had any trouble with The Grill in like two months." Y/N zipped by her co-workers who were cooking an extremely large order. She couldn't help but look over a chef's shoulder and watch what they were preparing. "Is that for a party? Or a family?" She couldn't help but wonder aloud. The cook turned his head with a laugh to follow. He explained that it was all for one person. "Damn." Was all she replied with.

Y/N worked hard as a waitress. And she loved it. "All for table five? I'll need all ten of you guys to carry it back there." She rolled her eyes. Whatever, as long as the customer was happy and they were all getting paid it wasn't a problem. The order might be large, but Y/N started carrying trays back.

What was strange was that the new guy, who was put on host and waiter duty, never showed up in the kitchen to help or to return with more orders. The dining room was a little too quiet for Y/N's liking. Maybe he screwed something-

From the kitchen doors, Y/N could see that her new co-worker was clearly killed and in the hands of a tall stranger. Her eyes were large, her throat told her to scream. But nothing other than her heavy breathing escaped her enlarged nostrils. The man was wiping blood off of his face...her co-worker's blood and he was licking it off of his fingers.

Y/N was noticed, when he turned his face toward her she wanted so badly to run the other way, back into the kitchen and find something to defend herself. Other than the stranger, the dining room was empty. She also found herself with another problem, her hand was shaking so much that the tray of food fell at her feet. The beer glasses split and liquid was all over the floor. Boy was that going to be a sticky mess she'd have to clean up depending on her near death.

Her mouth dropped open, the rather handsome stranger with smeared blood on his face turned himself toward her with a bit of a sadistic grin. When he spoke, she could swear it was a rumble of thunder. "Mmm, aren't you so afraid?" He fixed the messy sleeve over his wrist and wiped the rest of the blood off of his face, sticking his wet fingers into his mouth and humming. "He was a little bland."

Y/N couldn't even muster a 'holy shit' but she had to admit in her overactive mind that he was rather attractive and whatever he was trying to do was working on her. This shouldn't be attractive. She wasn't like this. All she wanted was to get paid and get through college, not in this situation at work. "That nagging voice in my head says not to hurt you. But my stomach says too. I'm just so hungry and upset." His lips jutted out, he was pouting. And boy was he good at it. "I was hoping you'd taste a lot better."

Y/N's throat burned so much, something came out. "P-please don't hurt me." Her head wagged back and forth, she wanted so badly to just run by the man and never see him again. Then she realized he took a step closer but there was still the space of the whole room between them.

"Oh doll, I have a better idea." There was that sadistic grin again. The one that made her heart flip and it shouldn't. She shouldn't think this was attractive but she couldn't deny it. In her own twisted way, there she was unable to move because she was scared and curious. "Why don't you come here? Come to me, Sweetheart." He spoke lowly. Low with a hint of a growl. One that bad her gut develop an anchor to it.

But she refused. She wagged her head hesitantly back and forth. The man raised his brows and then tilted his head to the side. "I'll give you one more chance before I make you. Now let's try again. Come here." He spoke slow, longing. But she wagged her head back and forth. He was someone her parents told her to stay away from as a child. She wasn't going to give into him with her co-worker's corpse on the floor. Not at all actually. This man didn't need to get his way.

The stranger took another step forward and raised his hand. Y/N wasn't sure what he was doing. Was he going to try and hit her? "Motus." He growled. She started floating across the room to him, her feet couldn't stop her. Nothing could stop the fact she was in motion because this man was beckoning her to him. She started to panic, but everything was cut short when she was facing his large hand.

It was decorated with two rather shiny and large rings. There were a few seconds of silence before her mind was filled with his scent. His musk mixed with a hint of a dominating cologne that she couldn't put her finger on. He was intoxicating and the cologne added to the fire in her lungs and throat. So she decided to look away from his harsh gaze to his hand that was still raised. "You are very disobedient." He commented. His other hand rose to his chin, pulling her gaze to his again. He looked harsh but he also had the most beautiful eyes she had ever saw in her life.

"Who am I to judge though?" In mere seconds his harsh gaze turned into something happy. He was laughing and showing off those perfect teeth he kept hidden. His brows were raised and his smile was so wide his eyes turned to slits. Was he a mad man? The answer was yes. Her gut told her yes. "Mmm." He hummed and then contained his laughter. "You won't make me feel bad if I scare you."

She cringed. Y/N actually cringed, she wanted far away from him yet he was drawing her in. "Do all females look at me the way you do?" This was a more intimate moment, he was getting closer and closer. His breath smelled like spearmint. Oh boy was he perfect. When Y/N didn't answer he was clearly annoyed but he answered for her. "You're supposed to say duh."

All Y/N could do was swallow the lump in her throat. "L-let me go please." That wasn't as confident as she liked. Now he'd never take her seriously. Now both of his hands cupped her cheeks. Her skin was on fire and he took her breath away. The cool metal rings took a bit of the sting away, but that didn't ease the anchor in her stomach.

"To kill you or not to kill you? I need a list of pros and cons. But my oh my, you have no idea what's going on. It wouldn't be fair to you if I had you choose without knowing now would it-" There was an interruption from the door. Y/N was relieved, so relieved she could pass out. Someone had come to her rescue.

It was yet another very young man who nodded toward the door. "You can leave. I'll take care of him." Boy did Y/N run as fast as her little legs could carry her. Running made the fire in her throat rise higher than before. But at least she was heading for the safety of her home.

She saw him again...at The Grill. After it closed, he was there again. From the doorway he was waving, it was rather flirty which made her co-workers wonder if she was seeing somebody. "Is he here for you? You didn't tell us you were seeing someone." One of the cooks leaned over her shoulder. Y/N could feel the lump in her throat again. What did he want with her? Their first encounter was over a week ago.

Why now? "I'm not seeing anybody. He was here about a week ago. Uh...you can go home. I'll finish closing and get rid of him." She offered her co-worker. So they accepted the offer and untied their apron from their waist and hung it on a rack in the back. Y/N could only pray the stranger didn't hurt her friend as he tried to leave. But she let out a sigh of relief when the man stepped aside and let the cook leave without any harm.

Y/N tried focusing on scrubbing the counter-top. People had spilled drinks throughout the day and dropped food. It was just a mess. "Is there any way I can help?" Her hand suffocated the wet cloth and when she got startled, the stranger laughed. "I want to place an order." He took a seat on one of the stools. Y/N started backing away with the wet cloth as her only defense. "Except I don't want food. I want you."

There she went again, wagging her head back and forth, aggravating him. "You really are a scared little thing aren't you?" He tapped his fingers against the counter-top. Y/N watched carefully as he poured salt packets onto the counter.

"H-hey!" She started to stop him but he only laughed and looked up through his eyelashes with that grin on his face. He raised that same hand that had magically called her over to him, and now it was...making the salt float? Each grain was dancing around his fingers. Y/N wiped her eyes and blinked but it didn't work. She wasn't seeing things.

"At least hear me out, beautiful." His nickname for her made her swallow. "I always get what I want. I want you. Its weird, I can't stop thinking about you. Ever since I was dealt with last week. I realized I was a little much." No kidding. "But that doesn't mean I'm sorry for it. I've never been so curious about a human before." He rambled. "That's a little weird right?"

For once Y/N agreed with him. "Except its normal for me. I debated on tracking you down. I had some of your hair..." He started chuckling. "Wrapped around my finger, literally, from when I touched you. I was going to do a simple locator spell and follow you around. But there's this pair of brothers that thought that would frighten such an innocent girl." Boy did he talk alot. "But now I know where you work. I can catch you here whenever I please." The salt fell into a crumpled pile under his hands.

The stranger reached over the counter, into her apron and pulled the pen out of the pocket with that stupid grin on his face. Without taking his eyes off of her, he reached into the napkin dispenser and started writing something on it. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back a smile and then pushed the napkin across the counter to her. Y/N collected the thin fabric in her shaky hand. 'Kai' was written at the top along with a phone number.

"Text me, or hey better yet call me. Hold on, sometimes I don't know how to go about this. You have a Twitter?" Why was he so casual? "Cobrakai1972. Live tweets and all. I know lots of girls these days like a man who's handy with his Twitter." His left eye closed in a very seductive wink as he pushed himself up and off of the stool. "If you're curious enough its your call." He was inviting her. And boy was she debating on calling the number in her hand. Kai, his name had a ring to it. Kai...Kai-she kept repeating it in her head.

"You probably have a crush on her." Was all Damon said without glancing over at the Heretic twiddling his thumbs. "And showing her magic..." Damon shook his head before taking in his drink. "Not a good idea. But I won't hold it against you considering I killed you and you didn't live long enough as a mutt to know."

Kai glanced over through his lashes and watched the vampire continue drinking. "She's...perfect. I gave her my number and I'm on edge. Every time my phone makes a noise I hope its her but its Twitter notifications from fifteen year old girls." He wiped a hand through his hair.

"Granted you did scare her, Parker. You're lucky Stefan was there to save your ass last week otherwise you would have hurt the girl you're crushing on." Damon tsked and wagged his finger. "As for the fifteen year old girls, I'm just going to be honest here and tell you you're not the ugliest guy I've ever seen. I'm only being nice to you so I can make Elena happy when she wakes up. You remember that when you remember my compliment."

"Got it." Kai steepled his fingers under his chin. Damon noticed the Heretic was glancing nervously at his phone. "Damn it. You know I was just going to feed on her." He laughed. "And here I am stalking her at work because I can't even stand to see her interact with a customer." His raked another hand through his hair. "What's wrong with me?"

Damon sat in the chair across from Kai and tapped his chin. "It would be easier to find out what's right with you. And that's a very short list. With two bullet points." Damon sat back and played with the glass in his hand. "But as for what's wrong with you...its more like a grocery list. The basics, eggs, milk, bread. Water-" Kai glanced at him. "My point is that you've got...some sort of basics. Give her some time. Stop trying to scare her. Don't be...you."

"What do you mean?"

"You...you're too forward all the time. Most girls don't like somebody who just shows up at work and plays with salt on the table and randomly hands her his number. Or showing up and killing a co-worker or two and then dragging her across the room with magic. No, Kai you have to wait till you get her hooked first and then you get comfortable. Then you start with the magic or being confident." Damon crossed his leg over his knee. "Civil. Yeah...be civil."

Kai rested his hand under his chin and started digging deep. "I should start over? Introduce myself? Ask for her name?"

"Her name is Y/N. You're welcome. Drink there all the time with Ric. There's only one problem to your plan here though." Damon hissed. "She's Ric's niece."

Kai surprised Damon when he face-palmed himself. "Great. Just great. Damn it."

"There's always a chance though, Parker." Why was Damon even feeling so positive today? "If you make her happy, Ric might accept it."

"Make her happy?"

"That doesn't mean you keep harassing her at work. That means show up with flowers. Or ask her to see a movie. Get to know each other. Show her you aren't the creepy guy that keep showing up at The Grill. Tell her you're sorry, that you want to start over-" But Kai wasn't even listening.

"I'll go see her tomorrow." Damon was now the one to face-palm. Had he taught Kai nothing?

The Grill had been sort of lonely for the past few days. Some of Y/N's co-workers who she really enjoyed were sick. And Y/N's mind drifted back to Kai. She hadn't seen him in a while either. Her lunch break consisted of eating food that one of the cooks made her, and sipping on her Coke while scrolling through her phone.

Her mind wandered to the contact list. After Kai had given her his number, she had been debating all week whether or not to call. So she made him a contact in her phone. There she was staring at the call button again. But a voice from behind her made her jump and lock her phone quickly. "Y/N, I figured it was your lunch break." It was only her uncle.

"Hey, Uncle Ric." She waved and finished the last few bites of her sandwich. "I was about to get back to work in a few minutes."

Her uncle took a seat across from her and grabbed her hands. "Look I just have to talk to you about something. Because you're my only niece. Which makes you my favorite niece. And I'm concerned for you." Y/N furrowed her brows and took a sip of her drink. "Word gets around here. A guy named Kai coming around to see you?" Her heart fluttered at his name. It made her straighten her back.

"Yeah, he's...weird. What about it?" Her uncle squeezed her hands and pursed his lips together. "What's wrong?"

"I want you to stay away from him, Y/N. I have a rough past with him and he's got...problems. Just promise me you'll stay away from him?" How could she say no to her sweet uncle? Her only favorite uncle?

Y/N nodded. "Of course." But she didn't dare tell her uncle she put two and two together. She knew exactly who Kai was, from research and sneaking into her uncle's office, reading journal entries. From watching Kai use 'magic' to kill a man in cold blood. He was a Heretic, a sociopath, a psycho. The list continued with some rather foul names coming from her uncle after that.

Her uncle pushed himself away from the table and kissed her forehead. "This is why I love you, Y/N. So be good. I love you."

"Love you too." Her face was red when she looked over at the door and Kai was there. He waved, his seductive grin on his lips. Y/N looked around, her uncle had used the back door. So he didn't have to pass Kai.

Kai couldn't hide the fact that he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and try her out for a while. But he didn't. He watched her clean her table and throw away her trash. Customers approached her, young guys touching her elbow or ordering their food from her. It made his chest burn. Was he jealous? Was that the word to use? That she was his, he wanted nobody else to even look at her?

"You're ignoring me now?" Y/N sort of felt bad. But she knew her uncle meant well and she didn't blame him for wanting her to stay away from Kai. Who knew what he could do to her? Kai's voice was soft, distant, upset. "What did I do?"

"N-nothing. I'm just working." She wiped down the counter before him again. "Nothing's wrong. Just think its best to stay away from each other. I've been keeping what I've seen you do from so many people and you're dangerous. So if you don't hurt me, I won't tell anybody."

Kai's face dropped some. "Y/N if I wanted to hurt you I would have already." Who had gotten a hold of her? Why wasn't she looking at him? The way he said her name gave her goosebumps. "Y/N?"

"Its nothing, Kai. I'm working and I have customers to get to. So if you're ordering something then do it and your food will be out in a second." But Kai was silent, sadness written in his face. His lips pursed together. Little did she know he was trying to ask her out, but he didn't do it fast enough. She brushed by him with her pen and notepad in hand and left him raking his fingers through his hair.

Y/N had just finished brushing her hair and teeth, put on her pajamas and started un-tucking her freshly made bed. She pulled the blanket back and started to climb in. A tap on her window called her attention. "What in the world." She sighed and headed for the window. There was another knock, it was louder this time. She fixed her shirt before opening the window and jumping back two feet, with a loud scream to follow.

Kai jumped as well, almost falling off of her windowsill. She held her chest to recover from her heart attack. "Jesus Kai what are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" He was dangerous, she had to remember that. She had to remember he could come through the window and strangle her if she wasn't careful.

"I watched you when you left The Grill. You make me curious."

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "You shouldn't be here. My uncle could be home any minute."

"I know your uncle. Ric, yeah great guy. Just wants me dead. Long story." Kai focused on not falling off of the sill he was perched on. "If you could invite me inside, that's be great. Don't act surprised either. I know you put two and two together very well, and so could I."

She was taken aback. "Get in here." She grabbed his arm before he fell. Except he fell backward into her window and tumbled to the floor. He was a little shaky on his legs when he pushed himself up but he recovered.

"Piece of advice, be careful who you invite in." He helped her lock her window.

"Noted."

They sat in silence for a while until Y/N headed for the T.V. across the room and turned it on. Kai was sort of confused. "Why so loud?" He raised his voice over the volume of the T.V.

Y/N spun around and grinned a little bit. It was a major character change for Kai to comprehend. "My uncle's coming home anytime now. Do you really think I haven't been thinking about you either?"

Kai was starting to catch on. "Well let's see if you're still as disobedient as before." He called to her with his curling index finger. But she stood on the tips of her toes and wagged her head. "Motus." His hand went up, pulling her right to him.

She stared up at him with her index finger in her mouth. Kai bit his bottom lip and then swiped his tongue across it. That same hand he performed his spell on was now shoving her backward onto her bed.

He stood above her, shrugging his pitch black jacket off of his shoulders. The one that Y/N had saw him in the other day at The Grill after her uncle left. The one that made her want to ride him all day. He folded it with a knowing smirk on his face. And then he tossed it to the end of her bed.

"You are a very lucky girl Y/N." He crawled between her legs. "Do you have an idea why?"

Y/N bit her lip and shook her head. "Why is that?"

"Because I'm feeling good today." Y/N raised her brows. "I feel like a decent person. Decent enough to show you the best time." He trailed his fingers across her lips.

"Is that so? I'd like to say that I'm not so lucky." She pouted.

"Hmm?" He focused in on her mouth.

"You look a lot more attractive with blood on your face. See I think you've ruined me. I'm not a person that likes blood. But when I saw you the night we met, I can't help but think about it." She stuck her index finger in his mouth. He was so close to her, their noses were almost touching. He was intoxicating.

And his breath smelled like mint, her favorite scent. Kai responded, sucking on her finger, swiping his tongue around it. The lust he felt for the girl multiplied by a hundred. "Do it." She whispered. She encouraged him to bite her finger. "I know what you are. Don't hide it from me." She had to curl her legs around his waist, to hold onto him. Kai debated it, but he wasn't that strong enough to say no.

He closed his eyes, he let the monster he was consume him. A network of patterns spiraled across his face, they made Y/N gasp but they turned her on no doubt. His eyes were dark when he opened them. Almost as dark as the jacket he threw at the end of the bed. Y/N huffed, encouraging her finger to trace the daggers just under his lip. "Please." It was soft and intimate. The madman who she was crushing on was about to bite her.

Kai bit down, slowly and just enough to break the skin. He suckled the blood off of the tip of her finger. Y/N held the cry that was aching to be released. She didn't expect it to feel as sore as it did. He was a predator, it was supposed to hurt. He released her finger, Y/N traced his lips, smearing the blood around his lip. "I'll make you my evil queen. How does that sound?"

"I don't even know why I like the sound of it. But I really like it." What was he doing to her? Tainting her mind. She worked at tracing his cheek, just where she saw the bloodstains of her co-worker two weeks ago. She bit her lip, he was her work of art. He licked his lips while his intense stare held her captive. Oh he was such a bad influence.

"I think you're finding yourself." He whispered. The same tooth that dug into her finger now pricked his lip, making it bleed. The blood dripped down his lip and onto his chin. "Clock's ticking if you wanna get rid of that pin prick I gave you." He grinned.

He wanted her to drink his blood? Kai noticed how hesitant she was and kissed her anyway. The copper taste between them seemed to connect them. The uncomfortable ache in her wounded finger seemed to dull away. The blood smeared against his lips and cheek made him look dominant, crazy. And Y/N wasn't aware that she was into the psycho types. (The reader is all of us lmao.)

Kai moaned, the sound rumbled from his chest where Y/N rested her hand. Her other hand played with the hairs on the back of his neck. His hands started pushing her shirt up, higher and higher. "You've got nothing on underneath." He quietly groaned in her ear. He sucked at her chin, her jaw, her earlobe. She allowed him to push the shirt up and over her head.

She was so perfect it made Kai's whole body ache. His lips closed around one of her nipples, pulling and teasing, swiping his tongue across it. "Two weeks does a lot to a man." He grumbled, tracing his tongue down her stomach. "I escaped hell-" He laughed. "And here I am in pursuit of a girl I had no idea existed." Mmm, Y/N loved when he lowered his voice.

"Oh?" She moaned. Kai rubbed his hands down her chest, his ring catching on her hardened nipple. She reached for Kai's hair, that perfect dark hair. She completely messed it up, the way it was put up with a little curl at the end of the strand. "Bummer."

"What do you mean?" He looked up from working his tongue against her stomach.

"I messed up your hair. Bummer for me." Kai grinned and pushed his lips against her soft flesh.

"Mmm, I don't mind. Mess it up for me." He groaned.

Y/N tilted her head back, her eyes closed. Focusing in on the feeling of his soft tongue caressing her. When she looked down, she noticed Kai pushing that one strand of hair off of his forehead. "No keep it. I love your hair."

Kai bit his lip to hide his smile. "Bonus." He crawled back up her body, reaching between them and pushing her shorts down her legs. "Something tells me that your sudden interest in blood compelled you to choose your new underwear." He teased the front of them, pressing into her clit. "Bonus times two." He grinned and leaned in, rubbing his nose against hers.

He started working his way down her stomach, but Y/N pulled him back. "I like nipple play better." Kai furrowed his brows but couldn't hide the smile on his face. That beautiful, wide smile that made her forget he was a madman.

"Damn, jackpot." He wrapped her legs around his waist. She aided him in pushing his hips into hers. His lips pulled at her nipples, taking turns, going back and forth. When she touched the collar of his shirt, his body ignited. The excitement that collected in his stomach fueled the fire in his pants. The way she held his face, or gently touched the back of his neck. Goosebumps formed on his body where he never even felt them before.

He cried out some when Y/N ran her nails roughly through his hair. Moaning when he suckled a good spot. The way her hips met with his...Kai looked up and took a deep breath before kissing her. He needed air but the other half of his body needed her. He had no idea why she was so special, but his monster craved her.

When she reached between their bodies and unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, he knew he was on fire. She was glowing and he was on fire. What set him off even more was when she pushed her panties to the side and called him closer with her index finger. "If you're going to do it, do it now."

He just couldn't, the evil part of him that had escaped Hell told him to do it. While the other part of him...the part of little humanity he died with told him to enjoy the moment more. But he had to respond to the devil. So he did it, he connected them roughly. Grasping her face and sucking at her neck.

Her gentle fingers reached for the collar of his shirt again, pulling him closer. Her moans all she could release. She stared up at him in awe. He was poison, she wasn't. Yes he injected everything he had to offer and corrupted her brain. Everything her uncle told her, she was started to forget. Kai wasn't so bad, he was poison, but he was the good kind. The kind she was into.

He was the bad boy, the one nobody liked. And that made her crave his poison even more. Y/N could tell he was fighting to keep control. But she didn't want control. Her fingers traced the dried blood on his lips and over his cheeks, moaning as she did so. Her hair splayed across her pillow, her hands running over his back.

Kai almost stopped her from unbuttoning his shirt. But when she gave him that look, the one that made him crumble, he gave in and helped her brush the thin material over his shoulders. Y/N didn't know where to explore next. Kai was a predator, a killing machine made out of pure muscle. Her back arched into him as he worked at pushing his pants down the rest of the length of his legs.

His mouth grabbed a hold of her right nipple, her hands raking through his hair. Soft and gentle in contrast to the rough speed he was being encouraged to move at.

His arms kept her encased in a blanket of his warmth. It was rather addicting. She couldn't get enough of how he smelled. Musky, he smelled natural with a hint of a spicy cologne. She tilted her head back, wrapped her legs around his waist and let him have her.

Their position was intimate. She was his now, she didn't think Kai was ever going to let her live this down. She didn't want to. His lips attacked her neck, claiming her with large purple marks that she'd have to hide from her uncle. Kai couldn't help himself. He believed there was a goddess under him. And that if he let her go she'd just disappear. Two weeks craving one person made the rest of his life difficult.

Y/N swore up and down, grumbling words in Kai's ear. He was having her and he couldn't believe it. "Y/N-" He whispered against her throat. Her hands encouraged him, gently stroking the back of his neck and then moving to his strong, hard shoulders.

Kai knew she was close. Anticipating her orgasm made him close, picturing her under him. Sweaty and out of breath. Chanting his name. Y/N held his chin, kissing away the blood stains lovingly. This was going to trigger his new leaf. This was when Kai felt he could be better. That he wanted to be better but he'd tell nobody else.

"Kai, Kai-" She chanted with large eyes. Knowing eyes. She knew she was about to come undone. So she prepared herself, locking her legs tighter around his waist and arching her back into him. Kai took her lips in his, grumbling against her and then sucking her into a dirty, needy kiss. Her hand connected with his jaw as he made her cum, her eyes closing and holding onto his shoulder.

Kai wrapped his arms around her, nipping her bottom lip in hopes to subdue how he felt. But he finished with her. His control was scarce, he rarely had none which was why he was surprised he had made it this far with her. He closed his eyes and held onto her.

"Kai-" She whispered, hoarse and tired. Kai pushed himself off of her on shaky arms. "I needed that." She rolled over onto her stomach, hugging her pillow. She was acting like a girl who had just found love. Kai thought it was strange. But even he had to admit she was glowing. Kai helped her fix her panties and found his briefs on the floor, pulling them up his legs. "What are you doing?"

Y/N watched him cover her with the jacket he came to her in. It was warm, soft, it smelled like him. That musky smell that drove her insane. "Are you leaving?" She sounded hurt.

"No." He answered shortly. "I don't leave after. It doesn't add to the effect now, does it?" His grin returned and he took his place next to her under the covers. They faced each other, staring. Y/N fixed the jacket, pulling her arms through it and cuddling with it.

Kai's arms were open, he was available. Y/N took her chance and pressed herself against him, letting him hold her. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head.

"Y/N I brought home some-" Their attention was directed up to her uncle. Ric had a look of horror plastered across his face. He pursed his lips together. "I-I thought I told you to stay away from him?"

Y/N pushed herself out of Kai's arms and sat up, wrapping the jacket around her body. "I can explain. Its a really long story."

"I'd kick him out but he's...he's aggressive...and a psycho-" Ric looked like he had seen a ghost.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Kai who was waving at her uncle. "He wasn't aggressive a few minutes ago." Her face turned red. Ric ran a hand through his hair.

"Did he hurt you? Are there any marks?"

"No, of course not."

"Oh boy, I failed you as an uncle. You're...he could have killed you Y/N!"

"Could have." Kai licked his lips. "If I wanted her dead she would be." Ric looked like he could cry. Kai lifted his arms, resting them behind his head. "Its all good over here. More than good."

There was a moment of silence before Ric closed the door. "He's mad at me." Y/N lay herself across Kai's chest. "And this shouldn't be okay. I shouldn't feel okay with this."

"Mmm, yeah but doesn't it feel good to be a rebel kid for once?" She had to admit. It felt exhilarating.

So I found the imagines !!!! On my PC so I’m going to re upload them!

#kai #dom!kai #kai parker #kai parker smut #kai parker x reader smut #kai parker drabble #kai parker tvd #kai parker imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries masterlist #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries smut #kai parker the vampire diaries #TVD #geminioriginalsimagines #geminioriginalsimaginesmasterlist

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diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader-”The One That Got Away” Part 1

The terrorist attack targeting Wayne National Bank nearly three years ago left only one survivor behind: Y/N almost died from the injuries, but she was lucky enough to wake up at the hospital days later. It was so hard to cope with the news: on top of losing her eyesight, the young woman lost her co-workers also and strangely enough the one responsible for the entire tragedy wasn’t The Clown Prince of Crime.

“They told me you’re here again,” you smile and there’s no answer. “Are you going to come in or do you want me to bring you something to eat? We’re closing soon, it’s almost 10pm.”

The blind Y/N extends the cane until it touches the recipient of her visit.

“I understand that you’re shy and there’s nothing wrong with it; you just need to tell me.”

“I’m not shy,” the deep tone interrupts.

“So are you coming in this time?” Y/N asks while the man grunts and she correctly guesses he’s getting up from his spot. “Follow me,” you encourage and he pulls the hoodie on his face, steadily walking behind the woman leading the way. “Today we have chicken soup and spaghetti with red sauce. That that I want to brag, but it turned out pretty good,” you giggle to lighten up the atmosphere: you’re aware it’s not easy for some living on the streets to acknowledge they require help.

“Mina!” you shout as you enter the spacious room. “Another portion please!”

“Sure thing!” the assistant’s energetic reply is perceived from beyond the counter.

“You can take a sit at any table, she’ll bring the food shortly,” you let him know and then loudly inquire: “Who else is here?”

“I’m here,” Silvia answers, slurping on her hot soup.

“Me too,” you hear Walter. “I also see Dave, Russell, Angie. The rest I’m not sure,” the 70 years old informs, pointing at the newcomer.

“Hey new guy, you have a name?” Angie licks her fork, digging in the pile of pasta afterwards.

The man is silent for a few moments, then mutters through his teeth:

“Jay.”

“You’re lucky there’s still food left, son! It’s crazy busy all the time,” Dave huffs. “This is the best Soup Kitchen in Gotham, and the lady standing in front of you a true angel!” one of the regulars states with such conviction it prompts cheers from the others left in the cafeteria at the end of the busy day.

“If only,” you laugh amused at the affirmation.

“Here you go; enjoy,“ Mina brings over a bowl of soup and a plate full of spaghetti to the man that’s been lurking around for the past two months but didn’t step into the building until today. Jay mumbles something resembling a “thanks” and by the sounds he makes slurping on the hot liquid one could say it’s very appreciated.

The volunteers would tell you if they spotted him outside the premises and you would usually take food to him, offering a place at a table which he refused; not the first or the last to show restrain when shown kindness.

You’re a bit surprised he decided to finally join the crowd; maybe he doesn’t like being around people.

“Mina, are you ok closing with John and Sandy? I have to open the bakery in the morning,” you explain although it’s not necessary.

“Yes, of course; told you should have went home an hour ago. They’re almost done with the dishes and we won’t have that much left to do after the last guests finish their meal. We’ll be fine, don’t worry. OK?” the young woman gives you a soft nudge towards the door and you feel the ground with the cane, eager to take a shower after the long day.

“Good night then,” you smile,” see you guys soon.”

“Good night!” several voices respond back.

The apartment is just three blocks away, conveniently situated on the top of the bakery you own: “Sweet Temptations” is one of the most popular bakeries in Gotham, slowly becoming a contender for the first position.

Once outside you stop for a few moments to enjoy the silence and the soft breeze on your cheeks before reprising your walk. Police cars alarms start blaring in the distance and you sigh, annoyed: quietness never lasts for too long in this damned city.

You turn left on Glissan Avenue and halt, carefully listening: you could swear you discerned some snickering ahead of you. Maybe not?...

A few more feet and your cane is abruptly yanked out of your hand, almost making you lose balance:

“Hey pretty girl, can I get a kiss in exchange for the stick?”

You straighten your shoulders, frowning:

“Randy, is that you?!”

“Umm…it’s possible,” he chuckles and you feel the air around, trying to find his body.

“I’m exhausted and not in the mood for your crap!” you admonish and want to continue but you get interrupted:

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You know my brother’s an idiot!...Hey…Hey!!!! What the…,” the other young man yells and the noise of a loud punch and broken bone startles you. “Hey, leave my brother alone!!!!...Oh shit!” the turmoil of a struggle and more ruckus indicating a fight make you frantically search for your cell in the purse.

“What’s going on?” you ask, scared at the moans of pain.

“I think he broke my nose,” Randy manages to utter still dizzy from the unexpected attack. His sibling Steve is trying to defend himself from the aggressor, apparently without too much success since the thud reaching your ears indicates he got thrown on the concrete pavement.

“If…if you’re The Batman, I can assure you I’m not in any kind of danger!” you pant, scared about whatever the hell is happening. “I know them, please stop!”

“It’s not…it’s not The Batman…” Randy gags, the taste of his own blood making him nauseated.

“I’m calling 911!” the cell phone is taken out of the bag and Randy shrieks:

“He’s running away…”

“Please don’t call the cops,” Steve mutters, not having the strength to get up yet. “I’m sure they’re not gonna like the fact that two teenagers fresh out of the juvie already got involved into an altercation.”

“I can testify you got assaulted!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t see anything,” Steve groans while his brother helps him up. “They might twist it against us and I don’t want to go back to detention.”

“Me neither,” Randy grumbles, wiping his bloody nose with the sleeve of his jacket.

“Did you see who it was?” you inquire, placing the phone in your pocket; you sure don’t want to create any more trouble for them.

“No,” the cane is returned to the anxious Y/N. “His mug was covered with a hoodie.”

***************

Next morning, 5:43am

The bell dinging makes you aware someone entered the bakery.

“I’m sorry, we’re still closed until 6am,” you announce to the customer while brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

“Hello Y/N, it’s me”, the familiar voice makes you smile.

“Good morning Mister Wayne; your box is ready,” you slide the package on the other side of the counter.

“Thank God! I hate early corporate meetings and this amazing stuff makes me wake up a bit, enough to seem like I’m interested, you know?” he soundlessly yawns and you burst out laughing.

“I’m glad it helps. Coffee?”

“Please!”

“The usual?”

“Naaah. Surprise me,” Bruce smirks and watches Y/N quite fascinated as she puts together his drink. Even if she can’t see, she moves with such ease and he takes a remorseful deep breath, wishing he could share his thoughts.

“Here you go Mister Wayne, triple shot. I think you need it today,” you hand over his cup and he takes a sip, smacking his lips in the process.

“This is very good,” Bruce praises your skills because lingering around the bakery for a few minutes it’s so much better that the dreadful meeting he’s about to attend. He takes a big stack of money from the inside pocket of his suit and hands it over to you.

“Are these…are these hundreds?!” you inquire, puzzled.

The lack of an answer confirms it.

“Mister Wayne, you don’t have to do this each time you come in. This is just... a lot again and the total for your box is only 46 dollars.”

“If I want to leave a tip, then I will. Share with your employees,” the stubborn heir suggests because this is how he usually convinces you to accept the money.

You want to protest but he keeps rambling on:

“There are also two checks in there: one for my monthly contribution to your charity, the other one you could say it’s an investment. Entirely up to you of course, but I would love for you to expand your business: a location next to the Wayne Tower would make me very happy. Every time I’m there pretending to be working I could run and get me a delicious treat to make my day better. ”

You blankly stare at him, deciding to speak up.

“Mister Wayne…You don’t have to do this… It wasn’t your fault…”

Bruce is grateful you can’t see his painful grimace at the candid words meant to alleviate the guilt of an event he failed to predict as both the main shareholder of Gotham National Bank and as his alter ego.

“You are not responsible for the lives that were lost. You just owned the bank, nothing more. It was very unfortunate, but please stop blaming yourself.”

He doesn’t comment yet, oddly enough paying attention to Y/N’s advice.

“You might not realize it, but you make this city a better place Mister Wayne; your generous donations truly make a difference. With your aid, my charity allows me to literally assist hundreds of those in need. That wouldn’t be possible without you. Take The Batman too for example; because of him this town is safer: he can’t get rid of all the rotten evil eating away at its core, but his watchful eye is a tremendous boost of hope for the rest of us. One person can’t do everything and he is not accountable for every bad action he cannot stop. You’re not more responsible than he is for the fate of others.”

Bruce sniffles, somehow relieved by the sudden monologue.

“You’re a good man, Mister Wayne. The tabloids might depict you as a carefree playboy, still they should mention your achievements also. Or at least bring up some details about that nice cologne you wear,” you giggle and his body relaxes at the small joke after being tense throughout the whole speech.

“It’s Dior,” he admits with a grin meant to alleviate the seriousness of what you just told him. And Bruce certainly appreciates it since he had no idea how much he craved to hear a confirmation of his own flaw: he is human after all, either as the rich billionaire or as The Batman. “Thank you…” he briefly touches your fingers while taking the box from the counter.

“I meant it Mister Wayne.”

“I know…” he sighs. “Think about the business proposal, OK?”

“I will,” you promise although you are not convinced it’s such a great plan on top of the numerous projects you’re involved in.

“I’ll see you next week,” Bruce promises and exits the pastry shop, abandoning its owner until their upcoming rendezvous.

You feel sorry for him, you really do. You hope what you told him stuck in the back of his mind: remorse is a strong poison Bruce Wayne should stay away from at any cost, especially when he’s in the center of attention due to his social position. Plus, he’s not liable for the tragedy that occurred nearly three years ago, even if he believes otherwise…

You were working as a teller at Wayne National Bank for eight months and that day was nothing special until the shift was almost over. The 25 year old Y/N went downstairs with her drawer in order to go over her daily transactions and make sure there were no discrepancies. Moments later, a powerful explosion shook the building and leveled it out in a matter of seconds, taking down walls and people alike as it sunk into rubble.

The only survivor was you since you happened to be in the vault; the metal crate protected you from the blast and you were lucky the emergency response team dug you out from under the debris in time: Y/N nearly perished and woke up at the hospital days later blind and unable to cope with the news: on top of losing her eye-sight, she lost her co-workers too.

Bruce Wayne felt responsible: he took pride in having the most sophisticated and advanced security system in place, yet nothing is fool proof, including the engineers that built it and sold out the secrets to the wrong people for the right price.

The terrorist attack was claimed by the Triple Star gang, another one of their attempts to take over Gotham in the never-ending battle for the top spot with The Joker. And Gotham’s citizens got caught in the crossfire. Again.

Bruce paid for everyone’s funerals and handsomely rewarded the grieving families along with his public apologies; the media tried to shred him to pieces, dragging his name in the mud again. It all died out once the family members of those killed in the attack sided with the billionaire: there’s nothing more off-putting to the press than dust settling over sensationalism without backup evidence.

You used the share you received from your ex-employer to open the bakery and start the kitchen soup, both venues flourishing under your patronage. Bruce was a constant customer and donor from day one, which aided raise awareness to the point of Y/N becoming some sort of local celebrity: despite her blindness after surviving catastrophe, she found the strength to rise above the shattered pieces of her life and help the less fortunate, which gained her the nickname of Angel of Gotham.

“Y/N,” Shane gets you out of trance, “do you want the chocolate croissants on top shelves today?”

“Yes, by the apple fritters and blueberry muffins,” you answer while the rest of the opening shift brings out the trays with freshly baked pastries from the kitchen.

The bell dings and Andy rushes in, frantically repeating:

“I know I’m late! I know I’m late!”

“AGAIN!!!” almost everyone teases in the same time, the choir urging more clumsy excuses:

“I know, ok? I’m deeply sorry. My car died out!”

“AGAIN!!!” the crew mocks and the poor guy sniffles, flustered to the maximum and you decide to give him a break.

“It’s fine; go wash your hands.”

“Y/N,” Andy halts in front of you. “Mister Wayne’s limo is parked outside and his chauffeur said he wants to talk to you.”

“He’s still here?!” you grab your stick and walk around the counter, heading outside the bakery.

“This way Miss,” the driver holds the limousine’s door opened until you get inside, slamming it shut as soon as you are next to your former boss. But something is off… the man doesn’t smell like Bruce’s cologne.

“Mister Wayne?...” you hesitantly mumble and the weird chuckle makes you cringe.

“Nope. Just rented a limo like his and waited until he left so I can take over. Luckily enough we saw an employee rushing in and he had no clue that the rich, pretty boy is not the one requesting a meeting.”

You panic and try to exit the car but it’s already moving and the door won’t open.

“Calm down, would you? If I wanted to hurt you I would have already done it.”

You exhale, nervously adjusting yourself in the comfortable seat.

“Who are you?” Y/N carefully stirs the conversation.

“A philanthropist interested in bestowing my fortune upon those in need,” the strange snickering comes to an end. “Here’s my business card,” your hands are placed on the person’s face without any warning. “Well, can you guess?”

“Umm…” you gulp, anxiously touching the skin. “Maybe mid-thirties…”

“Wow, that’s pretty good,” the man snorts, somewhat amused. “Go on.”

“Handsome…”

“Nailed it!!” he snarls and it gives you goosebumps.

“Green hair…”

His crazy silver grin diminishes a bit.

“Blue eyes,” and your eyes focusing on his astonish The Joker which is not an easy thing to accomplish.

“You…you can see!” he growls and your hands slide off his face. The King of Gotham had you on surveillance for months before he made contact today and nothing indicated the revelation he witnessed by pure chance.

“I was wondering if you‘ll show up,” your change in attitude baffles the usual emotionless King of Gotham. “Are you interested in money laundering throughout my charity?” you cold tone skips to the main topic. “Others have asked and no, I don’t do that; I don’t care about how much it would put back in my account. Dirty money has no place in my…”

“Says the perfect Angel lying to the world about her handicap,” The Joker sarcastically cuts you out.

“I’m not lying,” you mutter. “My vision comes and goes, it’s a neurological anomaly after the injury I sustained. I was warned that might happen and frankly I don’t have to announce it on TV or to my doctor when I’m blind and when I’m not. It’s easier to deal with it since at one point I might find myself in the blackness forever.”

“Interesting,“ The Joker huffs, crossing his legs. “I couldn’t care less about your sneaky ways; I’m not here to negotiate a deal. I’m here to get what I want. Money laundry will bring you more funds to do whatever the hell you do, help people and all that,” J flares his arms around, done with the charade.

“Yes, I help them and you kill them,” Y/N gives The Clown a mean glare. “Or beat them up for no reason,” you hint at the two teenagers he attacked since you actually saw him do it.

“Somebody gotta keep the balance,” he jokes about it like it’s some kind of funny topic.

“Mister Joker, I am here to help people and that’s it, “an apparent serene Y/N grumbles even if her heart is pounding out of her chest. “Can you please drop me off at the back entrance of my bakery? If I go missing or end up dead, people will notice. My disappearance or demise wouldn’t go unnoticed and you don’t need more unwanted attention, do you?” you play the best card you have because frankly you have zero aces in your sleeve.

The Joker sucks on his teeth, debating upon this dumfounding outcome that didn’t ruin his day; from time to time he loves a good challenge and the opportunity basically jumped at him so to speak. He gets easily bored and shit, this little project isn’t boring at all. Turned out to be quite interesting.

“Hey Frost!” The Joker shouts. “Let’s take McGillivray Street and return this lost Angel to her business. We don’t want a poor blind woman to get lost in this huge city; we’ll consider this our good deed for the year!”

“Of course sir,” the henchman switches lanes and you strive to remain composed because showing weakness could mean disaster while in the company of the unpredictable psychopath.

The limo takes a left and in a few seconds you reach your destination since Frost basically just slowly drove around the block. The fancy vehicle stops and you get out, preparing to bail when The Joker interrogates:

“Who are you really, hm?” J suspiciously squints his eyes.

You bent over to look at him, cautiously choosing your words:

“I’m the one that got away, Mister Joker. The only one.”

He puffs, signaling you to close the door.

“Good for you, sugar. We’ll keep in touch,” and he yanks the door out of your hand since he doesn’t have patience to wait for you to close it.

Oh my God, you think and reprise your stroll, sensing the concrete with the walking stick. What was that?! you shiver, just a few feet away from the back entrance of the pastry shop. How am I… but you can’t continue the argument since a van slams the breaks right by you, five guys quickly running out and pulling you inside.

“Did you see that boss?” Frost inquires, still waiting at the red light while watching the rearview mirror. “It was so fast nobody noticed.”

“It’s them,” The Joker sneers.

“Do we… … do anything?” Jonny throws the option out there for the heck of it.

“Do you have to fucking ask??!!” his boss shouts. “This is my goddamned town, not theirs! I decide who lives or dies, who gets kidnapped and who doesn’t. ME, not the Triple Star gang!!! I am sick of them interfering with my plans!”

“Call for reinforcements and discreetly follow?”

“No, tell the guys waiting to escort us on Andresen Avenue to intercept the van and follow it. We need a plan.”

“Yes sir,” Frost smirks, craving to take on another invigorating assignment since today was quite a dull day.

Back in the van, the men keeping you captive in between them didn’t articulate a single sentence yet. They have no clue you can see so they didn’t bother cover your head with a cloth. You know The King of Gotham is not present but you have to go on with it; what other choice do you have in this dangerous situation?

“Mister… Mister Joker?” you plead. “I’m sure we can…”

“The Joker?!” somebody laughs, finally talking and everyone snickers like it’s the best stand –up comedy act they ever heard. “No honey: this is the competition.” **************

Five days afterwards, 6pm

Everyone at the soup kitchen is eating in silence, the usual cheerful chit chatting absent from the premises: Y/N has been missing for five days, gone without a trace and despite all the efforts, her whereabouts are still unknown.

“Something bad happened,” Mike shakes his head, worried. “I can feel it,” he wipes his teary eyes.

“She wouldn’t just abandon everything and flee…” Clara whispers to her fellow table mates. “I’ve been homeless for a long time and this is the first place I found some real help, you know? Thanks to her I have a job interview next week,” the woman’s voice breaks. “Nobody would give me a chance and she put in a good word; I might have an opportunity to actually…” Clara blows her nose in a tissue, unable to finish her confession.

“We’re in the same boat,” George turns around from the nearby table and his eyes get big when he recognized who the man entering the establishment is. “Holy…”

The Joker is holding Y/N in his arms, both looking like they escaped a war: dusty, ripped clothes and visible bruises to match the unusual view seen by the 137 souls eating there for the moment. You are unconscious and a few people try to get up, startled.

“SIT DOWN!!!” The Joker screams, lifting you higher in his arms.

“Mister Joker, we gotta go!” Frost advises while keeping the door opened; the other goons temporarily blocked the traffic at The Clown’s orders. A few onlookers on the street are already dialing 911 and J is aware he can’t linger, but he won’t ignore an outburst either:

“Tell everyone The Devil brought your Angel back !! ME, not The Batman!!!” the insane green haired man barks. “Not all heroes wear capes, huh?!” he addresses everyone as he places you on an empty bench and hurries outside, taking one last glance behind to see a weary Y/N barely opening her eyes that cannot focus.

And The Joker knows that after the events he whiteness too, The Angel of Gotham is in complete darkness again.