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talltoontales · 4 months

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> Hearts -&- Minds <

Prompt: [NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: Couple's Telepathy]

Prompt By: ToonMan (Me)

Started Writing: 05/14/2024

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>Eddy<

I just flew off the couch after that. I mean, I don’t know who wouldn’t if one second you were just chillin, taking a nap on the couch, enjoying your vacation, and then you heard a voice in your head tell you that you leveled up. I mean, it was so…real? It was like the voice was coming from inside my head. God, and now I have a headache. I stand up, suddenly feelin' a sharp pain in my knees. Guess late twenties are the new fifties.

<Lin>

I hate my stupid desk! If I had a dollar for every time I bashed my knees against this thing, I wouldn’t need this boring ass job! Too cheap for desks not from a rundown middle school, too lazy to hire more people so I don’t have to work six days a week, and too uptight to let me wear fucking pants!

I see Niki being nosy again, poking her head over the cubical wall separating us. “What?!” I ask. She quickly cowers back to her own desk like the gossiping roach she is. If she worked as hard at her job as she did at not minding her own business, I wouldn't have had to come in on what was supposed to be the first day of my vacation.

I try to rub the tired out of my eyes. I got my power nap outta the way. I just need to focus on getting this report done so I can go home. I feel my heart speed up a bit when I think about my home. I still can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I moved in with Eddy. Just thinking about that dope of a man just makes me all giggly.

>Eddy<

Here I am again, fridge wide open, scrolling through videos of pets being derps. Curse you, internet, you terrific time waster. Eventually, I force my phone screen down on the counter as I scavenge through the kitchen for a snack. It’s times like these when I wish 3D printing food was a thing. My eyes then wander back to the fridge…

<Lin>

“Ugh!” I groan as my mind wanders between boring work and my oldest love, food. If I knew I was coming in today, I would’ve asked Eddy to make me…honestly anything sounds good at this point. Did I forget to eat breakfast or something?

Before I really knew what was happening, my head jerked back to the top of the cubical wall, expecting to see Niki staring at me again, but she wasn’t. I still couldn’t shake this feeling like something was wrong…

>Eddy<

As I slide the fridge back a bit, I once again wonder when Niki even had the time to make this. I feel the side of the counter until the texture changes from solid wood to flimsy paper. I carefully peel the paper back, revealing a perfectly square hole cut into the side of the counter.

Inside the hole was a decent pile of snack cakes resting on a tarp hammock. My girlfriend may know her way around a tool (Rimshot.MP3), but if she thinks she can hide snacks from me, then…

…I swear if he touched my snack stash…

I stumble backward, landing butt-first on the floor before I try scrambling to my feet. “H-Hey! You’re home—” I turn around to find no one behind me. I slowly got up, peeking my head out of the kitchen, still finding no one. “Hello? Lin?”

<Lin>

Almost done, good thing, too. This chair’s killing me. I swear, it feels like I’m sitting on the floor. Just a little more, Lin, and then a nice soft couch and softer boyfriend await. “Oh!” I chirp, pulling out my phone. I quickly started texting Eddy.

>Eddy<

After doing a full sweep of the apartment, I could only come to one conclusion. My conscience got the better of me. I mean, today was supposed to be a day for me and Lin to just relax, watch daytime TV, and be a mess.

Yet here I am, walkin’ around in my boxers, wastin' the day away while Lin’s probably absolutely miserable at work right now, and I’m stealin' her snacks! You know what? My hardworkin' woman deserves better!

I storm into the kitchen, grab my apron and cookin' bandana from the cupboard, and…struggle to figure out what to make. I mean, if I knew what I wanted to cook, I wouldn’t have been racoonin' in the first place. I hear my phone go off. A text from Lin:

[LIN: Hey, I know it’s still your lazy day, but would you mind going to Zlatan’s and getting some soup for dinner? I really need it after today. I’ll pay you back when I get home.]

Zlatan’s? Zlatan’s?! Nuh-uh! You ain’t paying twenty-five dollars for two bowls of grease with a side of soup and a couple of really good crackers. No, no, no, if you want soup, I’ll give ya soup!

[EDDY: No prob, Bob! See ya soon! <3]

I start throwing ingredients and utensils onto the counters. Time to earn my keep.

<Lin>

I look at his response with probably the dumbest smile on my face. What is wrong with me? We’ve been dating for almost five years, and just thinking about Eddy still makes me feel like a blanket fresh from the dryer. And I still willingly walked into this hellhole? All I ever do is complain to him about my job, and he just sits there and takes it. We finally get to take our first vacation together, and what do I do? Go to work!

I save my work and shut down my computer. As I go to stand up, my knee hits the edge of my desk again, but all it does is further my resolve. I walk out of my cubical only to get blocked by Niki and her stupid rolling chair.

“Heading home?” asks Niki.

“Yep!” I reply as I try to walk around her. Niki rolls back in her chair, letting me move forward but still in my way.

“Before you head out,” says Niki, “I just wanted to say I appreciate you coming in to finish our report, but maaaybe leave your phone in your locker next time. I’d hate for you to keep coming in on your days off to play catch-up.”

All I can do is stare at her. Thoughts racing of all the horrible things I’ve wanted to say to Niki ever since she was hired. Sometimes, I feel like she was hired specifically to get me fired. Every day, it’s backhanded compliments, micromanaging, gossiping about me behind my back to anyone who can’t escape the little—

>Eddy<

“—bitch!” I yell as jog away from the stove, wipin' the boilin' water off my hand. This is not going as planned. Half the ingredients I need I either don’t have or are spoiled. I definitely mismeasured what ingredients I do have, and now the kitchen is a disaster area!

Why? Why?! Why didn’t I just go to Zlatan’s? Sure, their food is horrible in every sense of the word, but at least it’s cheap and quick (Rimshot.MP3). No! Damn it, not the time for that! I need…I need to—

<Lin>

At this point, I don’t even hear Niki talk anymore. I just see her mouth move and know nothing good is coming out of it. She’s this job in a nutshell, holding me back from what actually makes me happy! The floodgates of my brain prepare to burst as I focus in on Niki.

…take a deep breath.

I freeze up at the sound of Eddy’s voice. The world loses focus as his words echo throughout my head. The sound of him breathing, in through the nose and out through the mouth, it’s so clear, as if he was right next to me. I remember all the times I came home a mess, cursing, crying, flinging my shoes at stuff. I remember he’d force me to sit down, holding me the entire time, and he’d just tell me to—

…breath…

My body follows along with the memory, long, deep breaths, as I feel the wave of frustration flush out of me. I refocus myself on the unpleasant sound of Niki still talking. That’s when I realize that’s all she ever seems to do. That’s all she can do. I walk around her. I can hear her say something behind me, probably nothing nice, but I just tune it out. It’s not important anymore.

// // // // // // // // // //

As Lin walks down the hall, the smell of food puts a small grin on her face as she comes to her door. Before she can put her key in, the door swings open, blasting Lin with the scent of freshly cooked food. She looks down to find Eddy dressed up, leaning against the doorframe.

“Welcome home, honey,” says Eddy. He guides his girlfriend into the apartment to a candle-lit table with a bottle of sparkling grape juice, a basket of breadsticks, and a warm pot of dumpling soup.

“Hope you don’t mind," Eddy continues. "I didn’t feel like headin' to Zlatan’s today. Thought I’d whip something up myself, nothin' too special, just a soup I made from stuff taking up space.”

Lin leans down to hug Eddy, putting most of her body weight on him and burring her face in his hair.

“Thank you,” says Lin.

“Tired?” asks Eddy.

“Yes,” answers Lin.

“Wanna sit on the couch while I make you a plate?” asks Eddy.

“Yes,” answers Lin. Eddy pulls Lin forward onto his back and carries her to the couch. While Lin kicks off her shoes and gets comfortable, Eddy prepares two beautiful plates, elegantly making his way back to the living room with both plates in hand.

“Bon appetite, mademoiselle,” says Eddy as he gracefully puts the two plates on the living room table. Before joining Lin on the couch. She turns on the TV, and the two eat, talk, and laugh from noon until late into the night.

>Eddy<

Looking at Lin resting peacefully on my lap, I just…today was just plain great. Even with all that’s happened, I couldn’t imagine a better day off if I tried.

I dunno how to explain it. Me and Lin, we’ve always been solid, but somethin' about today just makes me feel like we really hit the next level as a couple. Maybe I could put that ring my dad gave me to good use after all. I feel Lin’s hand gently press against my cheek.

“Dinner was amazing, babe,” says Lin, “five stars, easy.”

“Eh, it’s no big deal,” I say. Anything for my hardworking woman.

“When did you learn to do that?” asks Lin.

“Do what?” I ask back.

“That thing where you talk with your mouth closed,” says Lin. I wonder if she’s talking about that thing people do with puppets…ventriloquism? “Yeah, that! Planning on doing dinner and a show?”

Oh god! I hope he didn’t buy another weird-looking skeleton thing

I watch as Lin continues to talk, tearing into my knack for Halloween decorations. Not a single word passes her sealed lips as she stares at me with her beautiful eyes. Now she’s curious, a little freaked, completely freaked. Can she…

…Can you hear me?

Lin’s eyes go as wide as dinner plates. I guess that’s a yes.

Can you hear me?

I nod in response. The next few seconds feel like minutes, as if we had guns to our heads. Not a word or thought could be heard until we came to the same conclusion.

Holy shit…

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Fun Fact: I actually finished this story Wednesday (05/15). All I had to do was go back through it with a fine-tooth comb, and BOOM, posted that same day. Then I took a "short" nap... Anyway, Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story! If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or comical)). Also, if you have some spare time, check out my blog for more stories like the one above. Stay safe, drink plenty of water, and be kind to yourself and others. ToonMan, AWAY!

#writeblr #realistic fiction #with a hint of supernatural #relationship goals #First time doing first person. How'd I do?#The colors actually mean something this time #Don't give more to a job you hate #writing blog #creative writing #writing #writing prompts #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #short story #short fiction #short stories #couple goals #couple telepathy

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darsiared · 2 years

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OBSESSION

CHAPTER 4 : CHOOSE TO DEFY

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~ 7 years ago ~

"Himitsu! Why are you so stubborn? Why don't you ever listen to anyone?"

The little thirteen year old girl stood in the basement room of her house with her head bowed down looking at her fingers that were coated in different colors of paint. There was paint splattered all over the floor, her little crayons and paint boxes scattered everywhere.

She gripped tightly on the paper sheet in her hand where she drew the picture of the butterfly that she saw the day before during her martial arts training in the field.

Her mother strutted around the room picking everything up and cleaning all the mess that she had made.

"Oh my God! How long have you been here? Don't you know that all the family's cursed tools are stored here in this basement? It's dangerous to be here, what were you thinking?"

"I wanted to draw. I couldn't do it anywhere else." the replied in a timid voice. She knew she had set herself up for a bad scolding by pulling this stunt and will probably be grounded for a month.

She was restricted from drawing or playing or doing anything that might distract her training. So she sneaked inside the house's basement at 2 am to draw the butterfly before she forgot what it looked like.

"You wanted to draw? Don't you remember that you're father told you to never touch your colors and paints again. You are not supposed to indulge in these wasteful activities. You should just concentrate on your training instead. Actually I hid all your colors last time when I caught you drawing inside the bathroom, how did you even find them?" her mother went on scolding her while wiping the sweat off her face with the long sleeve of her dress.

"I know all the places where you hide things. Colors and snacks and my toys. You aren't smart enough to trick me." said Himitsu, grinning at her mother, proud of her own cleverness.

Her mother forced herself to not smile as she was supposed to be scolding her and squinted at her, shaking her head.

"Miss Smarty pants, you only know how to use that little smart brain of yours on pointless things. If only you tried as hard on your training as you do in these mischiefs, your father would be so proud of you."

After wiping the sweat and color of her face, her mom draped Himitsu with her shawl.

"My Goodness. This place is so cold. Not to mention the mosquitoes. How did you even manage to sit here for so long?" her mother frowned at her.

Oh, so that's why she had been so itchy. There were mosquitoes here. Himitsu hadn't realised as she was absorbed in her painting but the itchiness did disturb her a lot.

Now that she looked, her arms were filled with red marks from the bites. She didn't care about it but her heart was filled with warmth as she saw her mother worry and nag about how she might catch some disease.

Himitsu really loved her mother. She couldn't say the same about anyone alse though.

"You won't tell father about it right?" Himitsu asked, knowing full well her mother wouldn't tell anyone.

"I don't know. I might if you don't be a good girl and I catch you again like this." she tried to threaten her.

"That's what you said the last time as well" Himitsu said, smiling to herself.

Her mother sighed and picked her up, then carried her quietly to her bedroom, trying not to wake anyone up. As they reached her room, her mother tucked her into the bed and started to leave, but Himitsu gripped the hem of her dress, trying to stop her.

"Stay here tonight." she asked, her voice quite expectant.

"You know I can't." her mother tried to brush her off.

"Please, Mom. No one will know. The gaurds are all busy with the office work on Monday and Tuesday so security isn't that tight. You can sneak out in the morning through my secret escape route." Himitsu pleaded to her mother.

She might lose her escape route now that mother had found out about it but if it meant that she could stay with her for some time, it was too cheap of a price to pay.

Her mother had a pained expression on her face but she denied her request.

One of the strict rules of her father was that all of his children from a very young age must sleep by themselves and take care of themselves, without their mothers aiding them. According to him, children who grew up pampered in mother's love were weak apparently.

"Himitsu, you know your father doesn't allow this. You need to be brave and stay by yourself. You should - "

"I'm afraid, Mom." Himitsu begged, she didn't even realise herself before now on how desperate she was.

"I can't sleep at night, I hear voices and hallucinate sometimes because of the this." She pointed at the glittering, deep - red locket around her neck that enabled her to see curses and forcefully induced her body to mingle with it's cursed energy to make her capable of using it.

She was never allowed to it take off.

The mother let out a pained sigh and lied down next to her daughter in the futon and hugged her tight.

Himitsu's eyes almost teared up feeling the warmth of being with her mom. Because of her tight training schedule, she had been kept away from her for more than eight years now, only being able to meet her for a few minutes once a week.

She hugged her tight and let her tears slip through. This is happiness, she thought.

"Mitsu, you can't be like that." her mother began, realising small sobs emerging from her daughter. "You can't be scared. You have to grow strong - "

"Why Mom? Why do I have to be stronger? Am I not good enough just as I am?" Himitsu asked, losing control of herself.

She knew that there was no point in arguing about this with her mother as she had no control over it. Out of all the wifes her father had, Himitsu's mother was the only one who lacked cursed energy. On top of that, her only child, Himitsu, also wasn't born with cursed energy.

"Mitsu! You know this argument isn't going to result in anything. Just listen to what your father says and be a good daughter." she said, sounding too tired of having to deal with her daughter's rebellious questions that she couldn't answer.

If only Himitsu submitted and accepted her father's words, life wouldn't be as difficult for both of them.

She knew that she was causing her mother a lot of pain but what wasn't right just wasn't right.

And she couldn't just happily accept having her life drawn out for her based on her father's beliefs. His beliefs that only saw value in her as a tool. Not as his child. Not even as a human. Just a handy tool that he can use and sacrifice when needed.

Now matter how she tried to sugarcoat it. That was the ultimate truth. And it disgusted her.

She looked into her mother's eyes and saw the same sadness in them that she saw in her own eyes everyday in the mirror.

She knew that her time with her mother was limited. And she should spend that time happily, not talking about these depressing things.

But she just couldn't help it.

"Why do I have to do this, mom? This training, this dependence on so many cursed objects, this wierd experimentation on my body, these ridiculous rules!"

Her mother's eyes got even sadder and Himitsu knew that she should really shut up now before she ends up saying something she won't be able to take back.

But her mind was overflowing with all the things that she had to stifle within herself all the time. All the things that she wasn't allowed to ask.

"Mom, why can't I just be with you? Why can't I draw? Why can't I play outside? Why is it important for me to learn Jujutsu if I don't even want to learn it? I don't like it here, I want to run away, Mom."

Her eyes started watering and she felt like her head would burst.

"Let's go, Mom. Let's run away. I know that you're not happy living here either. I've heard you cry in your room when you think no one is watching. You don't want to follow these rules either. Let father and brothers follow their great ambitions. Let's just leave this place and live happily, as normal people, in the normal world, where no one judges you based on your Jujutsu prowess."

Himitsu looked at her mother's angered face and knew that she just crossed a line.

"No. Absolutely not. Don't even think about running away or any other stupid made up fantasy that you've been dreaming. Live a normal life? With normal people? You think it's that easy? Then why didn't I run away before I was forced into a marriage with your father?"

"They are going to track you down and kill you if you betray the clan. That's why. Do you have the strength to fight them off when they come for you? No. That's why you need to grow strong."

"You know why you can't draw and be like other children. Because unlike your brothers you were born without any inherited cursed energy. You are already at a disadvantage. You need to work harder than them to guarantee a good future for yourself. You have to prove that you can be useful even without Jujutsu."

Himitsu could hear the desperation in her mother's voice. She knew that she was just worried for her and wanted to secure her future. A future where she wouldn't be discarded as a failure and forced to live the same life she had been doomed to live.

Her mother sat up straight and held Himitsu's face in her hands, and looked deeply into her eyes.

"Listen, your father says that you have talent. You may not have any cursed energy but you are the most capable among all your siblings. They may be stronger than you right now but your father said that you could become stronger if you trained hard enough and be able to face every kind of enemy, even the ones who are way stronger than you. If you do just as they say you may even be made a sorcerer among them. So you need to make everyone believe that you are dedicated and useful as soon as possible otherwise-"

"Otherwise what, Mom?" Himitsu asked exasperated.

Just do as you are told. Just follow the rules. Just make yourself useful. Himitsu was sick and tired of hearing this her entire life.

This was it. She decided that she would do anything to convince her mother to leave this place. Her mother was the only person that mattered to her and she would do anything to live peacefully with her. If her family really came after them, they would just have to hide for a little while and she was positive that their pursuers would certainly retreat after some time. Betrayal or not, they didn't care enough about two failures of their family to keep searching for long.

Now she just had to manipulate and overwhelm her mother enough to make her come with her. Since security wasn't tight that day, and they hadn't been planning anything before that day, their daily actions must not have raised any suspicion, it was a perfect day for escape.

All that was left was to pull the act off. She knew she could persuade her mother. She had always been able to.

"Otherwise what?" Himitsu said, intentionally raising her voice a little. "Will I too be married off somewhere and left into the hands of an unknown man as his child producing machine? Since I was of no use to them as a tool, so then they are going to breed me like cattle just to see if I can birth strong children and not be a complete waste to have raised? Just like you?"

"Himitsu, no. Stop - "

"Why stop now, Mom? We both know what this clan is like. What makes you think that the same won't happen to me even if I become a sorcerer. That they won't use me as bait and a sacrificial lamb in their missions. What makes you think that they'll value and respect me once I've become 'useful' to them. Wha - "

"Yes, you're right."

The voice was heard in the room coming from the door, and both Himitsu and her mother were shocked to see her father standing there with an unreadable expression on his face.

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thebluewritingbench · 3 years

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if you’re still taking prompts, can you do happiness #1?

Before we launch into 6b next week, here's a small fantasy of a scene that I wish the cw would give us. Happiness #1 from this prompt list again.

“I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

“Alex calls it The Honesty Policy.”

Lena takes the mug of hot chocolate Kara offers, cradling it between her hands. “The Honesty Policy?” she asks, as Kara sits down on the couch beside her.

“I imagine Kelly probably fed it to her,” Kara says. “But she was helping me try to figure out how we could get ourselves… well, back to normal, after everything, and she was really insistent that this one was worth a try.”

“What is it?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. No more secrets,” Kara says, tapping her own collarbone, then fixing her gaze pointedly on Lena. “No more lying. We tell each other things. We’re honest. We trust each other with our secrets.”

Lena nods, looking down into her mug of hot chocolate. The dim lights of Kara’s loft glow orange across her cheekbones, and in the silence, the sounds of late-night passing cars rumble up from the street below. It’s the first time they’ve really spent time truly alone together since… well everything.

There’s still a lot of awkwardness between them; turns out secrets and betrayal and double-crossing—and the fact that forgiveness was barely hatching between them when Kara was banished to the phantom zone—will do that to a friendship. There was the initial hug, of course, after Kara was rescued, when Lena wrapped her arms around Kara and buried her face in Kara’s neck and held her so tightly that Kara was certain she’d never let go, her breath coming in ragged gasps and her whole body quivering. It was somewhat surreal, the warm shock of having Lena in her arms after so many months, her hair against Kara’s cheek, the muted scent of her shampoo. They’d sank to the floor, still holding each as the ship creaked around them, and stayed there for god knows how long in each other arms.

But since then, since that initial wordless embrace that felt as much like coming home as anything, they haven’t known what to say to each other. They work together easily enough, the animosity between Supergirl and Lena finally gone, but it’s more difficult when they’re just Kara and Lena. They’ve forgiven each other, Kara thinks. Or at least agreed to forgive each other, even if there’s still work to be done. But it’s weird. It’s not like they can snap straight back into how things were before.

Hence The Honesty Policy.

“Okay,” Lena says finally. “Yes. No more secrets. A clean start.”

A clean start. It’s what they need, after an entire friendship where one or the other of them has been hiding things. For the first time, everything between them will be out in the open. Nothing left to hide.

It’s oddly freeing.

Kara takes a sip of her hot chocolate. “So, where do we start?”

“Start?”

“I think we should have just an honest conversation. I don’t want this to be awkward anymore, I want to be able to talk to you like we used to. So, in the interest of honesty, tell me something you’ve never told me before. It doesn’t have to be big—” she adds hurriedly, when Lena’s eyes widen in alarm. “Something small. Something tiny you’ve never had reason to tell me.”

Lena nods slowly, thinking. “In the interest of honesty…” she starts. “In the interest of honesty, I… I really think that those bangs were a mistake.”

Kara makes a noise of offended disbelief in the back of her throat. “I—Rude!”

“You said to be honest!” Lena says, biting her lip like she’s holding back a laugh. “They’re growing out now, anyways. It looks much better.”

Kara gives her bangs a self-conscious pat. They’re still at a slightly awkward length, but they’re long enough to blend in semi-decently with the rest of her hair now. “If we’re being honest, then,” she says. “I think that blouse is really ugly.”

Lena looks down at herself. She sounds slightly hurt when she says, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything! It’s—the pattern! The sleeves! The collar! It looks like it’s made of cheap polyester.”

“It’s designer!” Lena pouts.

“Who designed it?”

“Well, I thought that blazer you wore last week was kind of hideous. I didn’t say anything at the time, but in the interest of honesty…”

Kara laughs, and Lena’s irritated expression melts away at her laughter, something in her eyes softening. It’s an expression Kara’s been seeing on her more often, in moments she catches Lena watching her when she thinks Kara isn’t paying attention.

She’s always paying attention to Lena.

“Maybe we should just agree to say that we both have questionable fashion taste sometimes and call it a day,” she says, downing the rest of her hot chocolate and placing the mug on the table.

Lena takes a dainty sip of her own still mostly filled mug. “Fine.”

There’s a long pause, and Kara taps her fingers on her pant leg and tries to think of a new conversation starter. She finally settles on. “In the interest of honesty… how are you holding up?”

Lena shrugs. “I’m okay, I suppose. I’m anxious about Lex—I know it’s only a matter of time before he’s back on our heels. Mostly, I’m just glad to have you back.” She looks over her mug at Kara. “I think that’s more a question I should be asking you, though.”

The look of intense concern in Lena’s eyes makes her feel hot, and Kara squirms slightly, pulling her collar away from her neck with a finger. She wants to say I’m fine, but honesty is the whole point of this exercise. “I’m… still not great. Being back there it… brought up a lot. Brought back a lot. I’m still having a really hard time with it all. It’s—it’s hard to talk about.”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

“I want to talk about with you at some point. I just… don’t want it to ruin every conversation I have, you know? I want some things to be normal, still. I want to pretend things can be normal.”

“That makes sense,” Lena nods. She looks small when she says, “In the—in the interest of honesty, are you still mad?”

“At you?” Lena nods again, and Kara sighs, looking away. “It’s complicated, I guess. A little, maybe? I meant it when I said I forgave you, but there’s still part of me that’s a little angry. You did a lot of things that were… really bad, Lena.”

“I know.”

“Are you still mad at me?” Kara asks, and Lena’s shaking her head before she even finishes the question.

“No. No, I’m done being mad at you. I get it. I get why you hid your identity, and I wish you’d told me sooner, but I’m not angry anymore. I don’t have enough energy to be angry anymore. I’m happier if I don’t hate you.”

“Well, I’m glad for that.”

“I would have done anything to get you back, you know,” Lena says in a rush, words spilling out like she can’t stop them. “You say I did bad things before, but I would have watched the world burn if it meant I could have brought you back.” She looks down at her lap. “Who knows what I would have done if Alex hadn’t been there to stop me.”

“Lena.” Kara reaches over to take her hand. “You know I can’t possibly be mad at you for that.”

“No?”

“Of course not.”

“Okay,” Lena whispers. Kara watches her swirl around the dregs of her hot chocolate and takes a deep breath.

There’s still one more secret between them. One more secret that has the potential to ruin their friendship. Kara thinks they’re both aware of it, on some level. Aware of the way the weight of it shifts their every interaction. The others are aware of it too, have maybe known longer than Kara has. Alex certainly has. It was she who looked Kara in the eye when they were discussing this whole honestly policy and said, “You have to tell her this. You know you do.”

She can’t risk another secret in their relationship.

“Um, in the interest of honesty,” she starts, and finds she can’t quite meet Lena’s eyes. “I have to tell you—in all honesty, I would probably just keep it a secret, if I could, but I don’t think we should do secrets anymore, so I just need to tell you that I, um, have feelings for you.”

Lena straightens. “Feelings?” she says, her voice cautious.

Kara closes her eyes. Takes a breath. Steadies herself. Opens them again. “I’m in love with you,” she says. “Um, nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, but I need… I need you to know.”

“Oh,” breathes Lena. She opens her mouth, and it seem to take several moments for the words to catch up with her. “Well, in—in the interest of honesty, Kara, I’ve—I’ve been in love with you for years.” She gives a wry little half smile. “If we’re being honest.”

“What? You have?”

“Darling,” says Lena. “I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

“The day we met?”

“Why do you think it hurt me so badly when I found out who you were? Why do you think I was so deep in denial about it that I never figured it out myself? Do you really think you were that good at hiding it?”

“I mean, I thought—”

“The disguise. The hair. The glasses.” She puts down her mug, then reaches over and gently tugs the glasses from Kara’s face, folding the arms in and placing them on the table. She brushes a strand of hair behind Kara’s ear. “You mentioned Supergirl far too much as Kara and Kara far too much as Supergirl and one time you told me you flew to my office on a bus.”

“That’s—yeah, that’s fair, actually.”

“You’re in love with me? Honestly?” whispers Lena.

“I am. I really, truly am. Why do you think I refused to give up on you when everyone else was ready to?”

“I thought that just how you are. You don’t give up on anyone.”

“I try not to. But you, I could never bear to, even when it seemed like the only logical option to everyone else. Why do you think I waited so long to tell you in the first place? I was so scared to ruin things between us.”

“Why do you think I bought you an entire media empire?” Lena murmurs, and she’s so close, hand fisted in the collar of Kara’s shirt.

Kara giggles. “Why do you think I flew all over Europe to get you lunch?”

Lena laughs, and it’s such a relief to hear her laughter again, to let the conversation flow between them. There’s a bud of hope for the future that’s been sitting in Kara’s chest for years now, and under Lena’s adoring gaze, it starts to open.

“In all honesty,” Kara says, “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Lena slips a hand into her hair, runs her thumb over Kara’s cheekbone. “In all honesty?” She leans in, pressing their foreheads together. “I’d like that.”

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorp fic #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl fanfic #featuring me making fun of the supergirl costume department and also the bangs #and justifying all the sc bullshit i can #and making our girls have an hONEST CONVERSATIOn #is this therapy?#anyways I wrote this as a palate cleanser in between chapters of my WIP so enjoy :D #asks #anon #prompts #bluewritingbench writes #bluewritingbench ficlets

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seijorhi · 4 years

Text

Outrunning Fate

As promised (though I am more than a little late for Shiratorizawa Week), the soulmate AU

Tendou x female reader x Ushijima

TW stalking, possessive behaviour, implied non-con

Soulmates were supposed to be a blessing.

It was a fairytale that you’d grown up hearing about. One person who was supposed to be wholly yours.

Your parents were soulmates, even if you hadn’t always understood the concept, the proof of that remarkable, unshakable bond was always right in front of you. It wasn’t in the big grand gestures, it was little things - the soft, adoring look in your father’s eye as your mother passed him his coffee every morning, the way she always sought out his touch when they were together, even if it was just to twine her fingers with his, or the way that they always seemed to be able to sense when the other was upset, and wordlessly found the perfect way to comfort them.

Your father never had to tell you that he loved your mother, but he did, every single day. He told her too, just to see her smile.

It seemed effortless, easy, as if their love for one another was as natural as breathing. How could you be blamed for looking at your bare wrist, waiting for the day that name would appear in scrawling black ink, feeling that excited fluttering in your chest because you knew one day you’d meet your soulmate and have that perfect, fairytale love all for yourself.

Except it wasn’t like that.

Something went wrong.

***

You’re fifteen and barely paying attention in class when your skin prickles uncomfortably. Your heart leaps into your chest as you tug up the sleeve off your blazer, watching wide eyed with bated breath as a name appears on your wrist.

Tendou Satori.

The beginnings of a smile start to curl at your lips, but it freezes in place as more inky black writing appears below the first.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A second name.

And suddenly, it feels like your perfectly crafted world begins to fall apart. Two soulmates aren’t unheard of, but they’re incredibly rare and you can’t deny that there’s a certain… stigma attached to it.

What kind of a person isn’t satisfied with just one?

This is supposed to be some magical, thrilling moment for you, but instead all you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the growing wave of nausea that rises in the back of your throat. Quickly you yank your sleeve back down and before you can even think to stutter an apology to your bewildered teacher, you’re out of your seat and sprinting down the hallway to the bathroom. You barely make it before hurling up your guts.

After that, you start wearing long sleeves wherever you go.

It’s not that you’re ashamed, you tell yourself as you bite your lip and try your utmost to fade into the background whenever the topic comes up in conversation, it’s just that… other people aren’t always so accepting.

You’ve tried to get used to the disgusted looks, the invasive questions and the insults that follow you wherever you go, but it’s easier said than done. You hate that your cheeks still burn scarlet whenever you catch someone staring at your marks, almost as much as you hate the way you quickly duck your head in shame and race to fix your sleeve.

‘It’s okay, honey. I know it’s not what you expected but… it just means there’s one more person out there waiting to love you with everything they have. You’re twice as lucky as the rest of us,’ your father had told you on that horrible day. You just wished it hadn’t sounded like he was trying to convince himself at the same time.

***

You’re seventeen and the first boy who kisses you tries to shove your hand down his pants because he knows you’ve got two names on your wrist, and that means you’re up for anything, right?

You run home with tears streaming down your face and when you shower that night you scrub at the marks like you’re trying to erase them entirely.

What did having two names mean really? That one wasn’t enough? Would they be content sharing you? Would they even know of the other’s existence?

You could only imagine how horrifying it would be for them, spending months, years waiting for you only to realise that they didn’t really have all of you…

Would they hate you? Could you even blame them if they did?

Sometimes… sometimes you think it might be better if you didn’t have a soulmate at all, instead of this. It’s easier just to ignore it, pretend they don’t exist, pretend that you’re not gonna ruin their lives. Who knows, maybe you’ll be one of those few who never actually meet their soulmates. You can live with that, you think. You have a family who love you, a bunch of close friends who’d die for you - who needs stupid soulmates?

***

It’s the morning after your 18th birthday, your head is still pounding from the alcohol and bad decisions from the night before when your curiosity finally gets the better of you. It’s the modern age, most people live their lives online, you figure you’ll find a facebook page, a twitter account maybe.

Instead, the first item that comes up in your search is a video. It’s a news segment about a volleyball game - some high school team that you’ve never heard of, but you listen to the commentator talk and your heart leaps into your throat because they mention the Ace by name and suddenly there he is. Tall, dark haired and imposing - Ushijima Wakatoshi.

But you don’t even have a moment to breathe, to focus on the absolute beast that is your second soulmate and his terrifying spike because the camera shifts and suddenly there’s another player in focus. Tall, gangly with bright, spiky red hair and a too-wide grin, “-not the only player in the spotlight after today’s match; Shiratorizawa’s middle blocker, the so called ‘Guess Monster’ Tendou Satori-”

You close the browser window and slam your laptop shut.

They’re… friends, or teammates at the very least.

It feels like a bad dream you can’t wake up from. This whole thing is already messy enough, but you can’t get in the middle of that, you refuse to make everything worse for them just because the fates have decided to play a cruel joke on you.

If there were any lingering doubt left in your mind that you’re better off burying your soulmates, they’re well and truly put to bed.

That night, you dream of a cheering crowd, the thwack of a volleyball ricocheting off a vinyl floor and two menacing figures looming over you.

With your final exams around the corner, it’s almost too easy to put the video and your soulmates out of your mind as you throw yourself into studying. Months pass in the blink of an eye and suddenly you’re dressed in black robes and holding your high school diploma. You celebrate with your friends, dancing wildly with a care-free grin long into the night because you know you’re finally getting out of there for good. Tokyo’s a big city, you’ll lose yourself there and nobody, not a single damned soul, will know about the two names that grace your wrist. It’s as close to freedom as you’re ever gonna get - and god that makes you so fucking happy.

Your bags are packed and you’re holding your parents as they sob and then, like that, you’re gone.

Tokyo awaits.

***

It’s not that easy to outrun fate.

Living in Tokyo ain’t cheap, even for the shitty little shoebox apartment you rent while you’re studying. You manage to find a job at one of the Americanised diner style cafes just down the road from where you live two weeks after moving in. It’s popular with students because it’s open till late, the coffee’s good and the waffles are exactly what the doctor ordered after a long night of drinking with your friends. You’re just happy because the pay’s pretty decent and your boss lets you bring in your laptop and textbooks so you can study when it’s not too busy. You’re not nearly as thrilled about the short, revealing blue dress that serves as your uniform, but you know when to pick your battles.

It’s a little after one o’clock on a slow Tuesday night, the cafe’s almost empty and you’re propped up on your elbows along the countertop, absentmindedly thumbing through one of your assigned readings for class tomorrow when you hear the tell-tale chime of the door opening.

You hastily shove your books aside, plastering a wide if not a little artificial smile across your face, you glance up to greet the customers, only to freeze in place.

Your heart skips a beat.

Of all the cafes in the sprawling city, of course your soulmate has to walk into this one.

With his wild, spiked red hair and easy, sloping grin, Tendou’s unmistakable as he strides through the cafe with two other guys you can only assume are his friends. You suppose you should be a little relieved that he barely spares you a glance as the threesome make a beeline for one of the corner booths, but it’s hard to feel anything other than blind panic at the sight of your soulmate only a few feet away. It’s purely out of habit that you reach for your wrist and the skin coloured bandage hiding your traitorous marks, and you allow yourself to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief when you feel it still in place.

A loud cackle bursts through the quiet atmosphere of the cafe and you dart a glance over to see Tendou with his head thrown back laughing at something one of the others has said. There’s an uncomfortable fluttering in your stomach and your cheeks redden just a touch. It’s not an awful sound (not at all), but your pulse is racing and you think you just might be sick because this is all… too much.

You’d left them in the past along with whatever fairytale fantasies you thought having a soulmate would bring. You… you’re happy being alone and coping just fine without either one of them! They were a dream - a distant possibility you’d long since locked away, you weren’t supposed to ever actually see them!

At least it’s only Tendou, you think you might actually combust if they were both here. Still, there’s a faint tremor in your hand as you brush a lock of hair out of your face and try to regain control of your breathing.

As much as you’d like to run, or preferably, have the earth suddenly open up and swallow you whole, you know you can’t. For one, you’re the only server left until close and your boss might be easy going but somehow you doubt he’d let you keep your job after a stunt like that. More importantly, you have a sinking suspicion that causing a fuss will only draw his attention and that’s the last thing you want. He doesn’t know who you are, your mark is safely tucked away under your bandages, this will be fine.

It’s an hour and a half until close, he and his friends will get some food, eat, drink and chat amongst themselves and then you can kick them out and it’ll all be over. You barely have to interact with him. For all he knows you’re just a server in a random cafe - this will be fine.

Robotically you force your legs to move, carrying you towards your oblivious soulmate. You’re pretty sure that your smile’s a little off and you haven’t quite managed to quell the shaking in your hands as you reach for your notepad, flipping it open.

It’s the best you can do, especially when there’s a voice inside your head that’s all but begging for you to turn around and pretend this whole thing never happened.

Tendou appears to be thoroughly engrossed in whatever story he’s telling his friends, waving his arms around wildly when you reach their table. Normally you’d clear your throat politely and wait for them to settle down before introducing yourself and asking for their order, but when you open your mouth - nothing comes out. It’s like your whole throat has suddenly dried up and you’re just standing there gaping like an idiot, but Tendou hasn’t even noticed.

The ashy blonde to his left, however, does. His eyes flicker to you and you swear that you can see the faintest trace of amusement as he takes you in. He smirks, quickly shoving an elbow into the redhead’s side and jerking his chin in your direction.

“Hey loudmouth, pipe down would you?”

Your breath catches as he turns around to look up at you and grins, “Ah, sorry. Didn’t see ya there!”

The other two have picked up their menus again, but for whatever reason just as Tendou’s gaze starts to slide off of you, something catches his attention and stops him in his tracks. Like a magpie spotting something shiny in the distance, those big, droopy red eyes suddenly widen and zero back in with unnerving interest. Frozen with that fake, half hearted smile painted across your lips you feel strangely like a bug caught under a microscope as Tendou studies you - there’s really no other way to describe it. His head tilts to the side and he makes a low noise from the back of his throat that almost sounds pleased.

He can’t know, there’s no possible way, but if he doesn’t then why the hell is he staring at you like that?

It’s all you can do to remain rooted in place, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs that you’re sure they have to be able to hear it too. Whatever he’s searching for he apparently finds because his grin widens and he leans back in his seat and chuckles. “Why’d you look so nervous, we’re not gonna bite - promise!”

The other guy at the table rolls his eyes, “Tendou, don’t scare the pretty waitress, she’s just trying to do her job,” he chastises, offering you an apologetic smile that does little to ease your nerves. “Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

You swallow and hum in faint acknowledgment, and he takes that as a sign to begin his order.

You were hoping that they were just going to get some drinks and be out of your hair, but as he starts listing off various snacks and appetizers to share and the ashy blonde throws out a few more, it looks like your nightmare is only just beginning.

You nod dutifully, writing it all down. The cook is just going to love you for this, but there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. “Anything else?” you ask in a voice that just barely passes for what your boss deems ‘customer service appropriate’, decidedly not looking towards the redhead who is still staring at you.

He hasn’t looked at the menu once since you walked over, actually you doubt he’s looked at the menu at all, but it doesn’t seem to matter because he pipes up regardless, “Yep, one of those thickshakes, you know - the really good strawberry one, annnd-”

“Y/N, order up!!”

Your soul leaves your body at the exact same moment that Tendou’s pupils dilate and snap to your wrist.

The pen in your hand is shaking, your grip so tight that it’s a wonder the flimsy plastic doesn’t shatter as you turn to glance over your shoulder. The cook is leaning out across the overpass, staring at you with a scowl and vaguely you register the hot plate of food in front of him which can’t have been sitting there for more than a minute at the most. You give a weak nod, earning you a dismissive grunt in response, before turning back to the table.

All three of them are staring wide eyed and open mouthed at you.

Fuck.

They know. They have to know.

You should have legged it when you had the chance.

Breathe. Smile. Play dumb. This is fine.

“A-anything el-”

“Somethin’ wrong with your wrist?” Tendou asks slowly, eyeing the bandage like he wants nothing more than to snatch it up and rip it away from you. His fingers flex and you don’t even have time to brace before they’re shooting out towards you-

A hand catches his forearm before he can touch you - it’s his friend, the dark haired one with the crew cut, who’s currently staring down the erratic redhead with a distinct frown.

It’s the blonde who speaks up, “Sorry, he’s had a few drinks tonight. The idiot sometimes forgets his manners in public.”

The music is still playing in the background, somebody laughs at the table a few down from theirs, but in this little pocket, trapped between the three of them with the tension thick enough to slice with a knife, the silence is oppressive.

And then Tendou’s attention shifts back to you and your stomach flips - it’s like the floor has disappeared beneath your feet and you’re suddenly careening through the empty air with no hope in hell of slowing down.

He looks… well, mad is the wrong word. Tendou is technically smiling, but his grin stretched slightly too wide, his eyes a little too intense. There’s an emotion you can’t name etched across his pale features, and it’s unsettling… it scares you a little, if you’re being honest.

You swallow and take a tiny, shaking breath. “I-it’s fine. I tripped last week and sprained it.”

“Clumsy, are you?” he asks, prying himself free of his friend’s grip.

A laugh forces its way out, grating and too sharp to be believable. “Yeah, I guess. Your food won’t be too long, if you need anything else, just- just let me know.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond as you all but flee the table. You’re shaking and almost in tears by the time you reach the kitchen, the cook takes one look at you, a grumpy admonishment on the tip of his tongue, and falters.

They stay until close, and you avoid them like the plague.

Hours later, lying tucked up in your bed your skin still prickles from the thought of Tendou’s piercing stare. Maybe if you’d kept some kind of a level head through it all instead of acting like a flustered school girl, he might have just passed it all off as a coincidence.

But you hadn’t, had you?

It wasn’t just that he knew who you were to him (and to Ushijima) but that after all your blushing and stammering, the pitiful attempts at hiding your soulmate marks and the way you all but ran from him the very first moment you could, he had to know that you knew as well. That despite coming face to face with your soulmate, you lied - you rejected him.

You mom once told you that the first time she laid eyes on her soulmate the world stopped spinning and all she felt was joy. Maybe there’s something wrong with you after all, because despite the insistent tug in your heart, you just feel sick. Despite being exhausted after your long shift, sleep that night doesn’t come easy.

It’s two days later that you find yourself back in the cafe, working a rare day shift on your only week-days off from classes. You keep glancing up at the door every few minutes, half dreading the possibility that any moment, Tendou and his friends are going to walk in, but they don’t.

Ushijima does, a little after the lunch rush dies down.

He looks so out of place against the vibrant backdrop of the 50’s style diner, all serious and stoic, that if he were anybody else you might think he was lost.

But he isn’t lost, because he’s staring right at you.

You don’t notice one of your co-workers sliding up to you until they laugh and playfully nudge your side. “Ah, I see the eye candy is back. Try and pick up your jaw, Y/N,” they tease.

Back?

Instead of finding an empty table to sit himself down at (and give you a minute to mentally prepare) Ushijima is making his way straight over to the counter, unsmiling and huge. How was he even bigger in person?! He could crush you with his thighs alone!

“He’s been here before?” you ask quietly, unable to draw your gaze away from him.

Your co-worker snorts. “Yeah, he came in last night, he even asked for you by name. Seemed kinda disappointed when I told him you weren’t on until today. You holding out on me, Y/N? I thought we were closer than that. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you start dating a hot ass dude!”

They slip away with a wink before you even have a chance to respond and you’re left floundering as Ushijima approaches. Your mouth is dry, your pulse racing. Just like with Tendou, you have no escape, nowhere you can run or hide.

He asked for you by name.

Fuck. You should have quit when you had the chance.

Ushijima isn’t smiling. Where Tendou had been beaming with chaotic energy from the moment he walked in, your second soulmate seems almost stony as he stares at you with serious olive eyes. You honestly can’t tell if he’s frowning or if that’s just the way his face is, but it makes your gut twist regardless.

It might also be the fact that he’s towering over you without even trying to. He has to be at least 6’3” but it’s not just his height that’s imposing - he’s brawny and muscular and, yeah, huge. Briefly you remember the news clip you’d seen of him, the terrifying brute force behind his spike.

He seems to be waiting for you to speak, so you swallow down the lump in your throat and try to remember how to breathe like a normal person. “Hi, can I get you anything?”

Something briefly flickers across his face, but otherwise his expression remains distressingly neutral. “… I would like some tea.”

You nod - it’s like pulling teeth. “Yeah, sure. We uh, we actually have a few different kinds…”

He makes a rough noise of acknowledgement and then… pauses. Instead of the menu, Ushijima studies you. His lips twitch into the faintest hint of a… smile? You can’t quite tell, but it looks out of place regardless. “I will have whichever you recommend.”

You can’t seem to be able to form words, so you settle with nodding, gesturing for him to take a seat while he waits.

His eyes don’t shift from you, nor does he make any attempt to mask the fact that he’s staring right at you. When his tea is ready, you all but beg your co-worker to take it to him.

“Trouble in paradise?” they ask, waggling their eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” you mutter, but they take the tea regardless, and you busy yourself in wiping down tables and pretending that you can’t see the scowl from the volleyball player burning across the diner.

It really isn’t.

Even after tucking any thought of meeting your soulmates away there was always some tiny part of you - a part you were always so desperate to ignore - that wondered how it would feel to meet them, to be loved by them…

But while your heart squeezes with every glance, it’s not warm, dizzying bliss that floods your system and sends blood rushing to your cheeks. You don’t know what the feeling is that curls in your stomach and claws its way up your spine, but it’s nothing good.

Something went wrong with you, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Ushijima stays for an hour, finishes his tea and makes his way back to the counter to pay.

He's wearing a grey hoodie, running gear underneath, and when he hands you the money, passing it directly into hands, his sleeve rides up. There, plain as day, is his soulmate mark.

Your name, written in black ink on Ushijima's wrist, forever marking you as his.

You jerk, flinching away from him, but he doesn’t make a move to cover it.

“You cannot run from us, Y/N. We are your soulmates, we’re bound together.” His voice is little more than a murmur, but there’s an edge to it, sharp and pointed. Not so much a statement as a fact, as undeniable as your name on his skin, on Tendou’s.

He says it like it’s a promise, staring into your eyes with that impenetrable gaze and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

“Why are you so determined to fight it?”

You swallow, taking the cash from his hand and punching it into the till. “I’m sorry, whoever you think I am…” you trail off, finally raising your eyes to meet his penetrating stare. You’re quietly proud of the way your voice doesn’t shake, even as your heart races like a hummingbird in your chest and your palms sweat. “I’m not.”

The only sign that Ushijima hears you at all is the subtle furrowing of his brow and a distinctly displeased hum from the back of his throat.

“I hope you enjoyed your tea.” The cutting barb slips from your lips before you can stop them, but there’s a certain vindictive satisfaction you get in watching his eyes widen, the brief hurt that flickers across his face.

Of course, it only lasts a fraction of a second before his features school into a blank mask and he nods.

“Perhaps I will try another the next time I see you.”

And with a short bow, he walks away.

You leave your apron behind when you finish your shift at the diner, and you don’t come back.

There will be other jobs.

***

It’s not enough.

They start showing around campus.

The first time you catch sight of Tendou, you’re running between classing, cursing the ridiculous schedule that has you attending two back to back lectures on opposite sides of the campus. It’s just a glance - a flicker of red in the corner of your eye. The only reason you stop at all is because you're so focused on not being late that you fail to see the crack in the path until you’re tripping over it. The books in your hand go flying as you sprawl across the pavement.

“Huh, you really weren’t kidding about being clumsy, were ya?”

A pale hand stretches out before you, and just like with Ushijima, Tendou doesn’t bother hiding the soulmate mark as he grins down at you with those wide, creepy eyes.

You ignore it entirely, waving it away as you pick yourself up with a grunt. The skin on one of your palms is grazed, and you’re pretty sure that your knees are too, but all in all it could be worse. It’s more your pride that smarts, that and the fact that of all people to see you trip, it has to be him.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby. I’m only try’na help you!”

You scowl, snatching your textbooks out of his offered hands. “I’m not your baby, Tendou,” you mutter.

You regret the words immediately. His grin slowly widens and he makes a sound, somewhere between a shudder and a moan - it’s almost pornogaphic and wholly inappropriate and it sends blood rushing to your cheeks, but you don’t have time to think about it.

“I’m already late, just-” you break off with a sigh, readjusting the strap of your backpack, staring resolutely at the ground. “I’m not what you want, what… what either of you want. Just leave me alone, okay?!”

Tendou doesn’t say a word as you walk away, but just like always you feel the burning stare following you until you’re out of sight.

Somewhat stupidly, you think that’ll be the end of it. The gloves are off - you might not have said it in as many words, but there’s no point denying it any longer. They are your soulmates and it doesn’t change a thing.

There is something wrong with your bond.

But they don’t see it like that.

They figure out your schedule, take it in turns to wait outside your classes, ambushing you whenever you’re alone.

“I have a game tomorrow,” Ushijima tells you on a rainy Thursday afternoon as he follows you home. “I would like for you to come.”

It doesn’t seem to bother him that you walk a few steps ahead (or try to at least - his legs are ridiculously long) with your head bent down, ignoring the steady rainfall that threatens to saturate you. Tendou usually fights for your attention, grabs at your hands, your waist, any part he can reach just to touch you, but Ushiwaka seems content to merely be near - so long as you stray too far.

“I have exams to study for.”

He hums noncommittally, “Tendou will be there.”

All the more reason not to go.

The silence between you two is heavy.

“It would make me… happy, if you came,” he tries again.

Your eyes squeeze shut for just a moment. You hate it when he does this, when he acts like you’re the one being stubborn. Like you haven’t told him, told them both to stop a thousand times before. Like they haven’t ignored it at every turn, blatantly refused to acknowledge that you don’t want them like they want you.

Shouldn’t ‘no’ have been enough?

You’ve considered reporting it to campus security, or even the police, maybe trying to get a restraining order or something like that, but what would you even say - ‘Please Officer, sir, my soulmates are stalking me’? Yeah, that’ll go down a real fucking treat.

“Why…” you trail off with a sigh, forcing yourself to stop walking.

This time he does reach for you, taking your hand in his. It’s warm and rough from years of volleyball and hard work, and you hate that it’s already so familiar. His expression is as stoic as ever, but there’s a quiet reverence in his eyes as he looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe you’re really there with him. You suppose in another light, it might almost look romantic, the two of you holding hands under his umbrella, lost in your own little world as the rain pours down around you.

He seems to be waiting for you to finish your thought, so you buck up whatever dregs of courage you still have and try again, “Why can’t you just… move on? I don’t want this- this thing, whatever it is between us.” You sigh, tugging your hand back, “I just want to be alone, why can’t you respect that?!”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment, staring at you, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the back of your palm.

But then he shrugs, easily, as if you’re merely discussing the weather and not their continued overbearing and unwanted presence in your life. “We love you. More than anything, and despite your… reservations, we belong together, what other reason does there need to be?” He pauses, his gaze softening just a fraction, “You’ll come around eventually,” he adds.

A tiny part of you crumples at that. What’s the use in arguing with a brick wall?

***

It’s a minor relief when you walk out of your last lecture for the day the following afternoon. It might be because it’s a Friday and you, for once, have absolutely no plans for the weekend, but realistically it’s more to do with the fact that you know no one is waiting for you outside. Ushijima has his volleyball game, and Tendou will be there with him, cheering from the sidelines.

You should be happier, really, but there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been there since Ushijima left you at your door last night.

They’re not going to stop.

Instead of listening to the professor talk, you’ve spent the last three hours searching university transfers. You love Tokyo University, you love Tokyo - the big, bustling city you’d gladly lose yourself in again and again, but it can’t be your home, not when they’re here too.

There’s a University in Kyoto, it has a similar program to the one you’re already in. It’s a surprisingly easy process to change - your grades are decent enough, all you have to is apply. One simple click of a button. It’ll take a few weeks for it all to go through, which’ll give you enough time to figure out how you’re gonna upend your entire life without them realising - assuming of course that Kyoto university accepts the request.

If you soulmates won’t let you go, you’ll run, and you’ll keep running. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe one day you’ll look back at them and feel that same love for them that you’d seen in your parents instead of that black, cloying unease that twists at your guts, but so long as they don’t give the choice, what options do you have?

You’re not stupid, this… thing that they’re doing, the stalking, monopolising your time, trying to drive your friends away, it’s not the end game. What happens when they get tired of you ignoring them?

“Hey, Y/N wait up!”

For a moment your heart seizes, but it calms almost immediately when you realise the voice isn’t the one you’re afraid of.

You turn to find one of the guys from your last lecture walking over. He’s kinda cute, in a lost puppy kind of way, and he’s nice, for the three conversations you’ve actually had with him. Honestly you’re a little surprised he actually knows your name (considering you’ve definitely forgotten his) but you smile back regardless. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You doing anything tonight?”

Netflix and crashing early, but you’re hardly about to tell him that, “Not much, why?”

He smiles, and for a moment you’re taken aback by just how utterly endearing it is. He really is cute. “Me and a few friends are having a party tonight, you’re uh, you’re welcome to come. Y’know, if you’re not doing anything,” he says with a laugh, throwing in a wink for good measure.

But his smile fades a little as he catches a glimpse of something behind you. You frown at the odd reaction, turning instinctively to see what drew his attention when a weight drapes across your shoulders and you find yourself being pulled into a sideways embrace.

“There you are, baby! I was starting to think you’d gotten lost,” a familiar voice drawls. “Who’s your friend?”

You can’t see Tendou’s expression as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but from the way your classmate blanches you can imagine that it’s not pleasant. Still you have to give him credit, he only falters for a second before he’s rubbing the back of his neck and offering a sheepish smile, “Oh, hey, uh… yeah, I’m-”

“Punching a little above your weight, dont’cha think?” Tendou cuts him off with a snort, nuzzling in just a little closer. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear, “I thought Ushiwaka told you about the game tonight.”

You shiver, although whether it’s from his softly edged words or the kiss he presses against your cheek, you’re not entirely sure. “He did, I-I told him that I had to study…”

Tendou laughs, squeezing you tighter, “Psh, is that all? Baby, we can help you study later. C’mon, or we’re gonna miss the start of the game.”

And like that he’s tugging you away. With Tendou’s arm wrapped snugly around you, you don’t even have a chance to turn around and apologise to the guy. He’s done it purposefully, a reminder you suppose of who you belong to - though for your classmate’s benefit or yours you honestly don’t know.

Ushijima’s already on the court by the time Tendou and you arrive at your seats (front row of course) but he glances over as you both settle down and his lips quirk into the faintest hint of a smile.

It would make me… happy, if you came, he’d said.

You don’t miss the razor sharp, anticipatory gleam in his eyes, though.

He destroys the competition. You still remember that brief clip you’d seen years ago of his brutal spike - it seems like time has only served to make it more lethal. The rest of his team is undeniably good, you doubt Ushijima would join a club made up of anything less than the best, but still, he’s in his element and without a single doubt the strongest on the court.

For every point he scores, Tendou cheers wildly. Halfway through the second set you can see that every player on the other side hates Ushijima - if the scowls and muttered snarls they’re shooting his way are anything to go by. You can’t exactly say you blame them for it either. They’re demoralised and angry, frustrated by the huge Ace and his indomitable force and even though he’s not a part of the team, Tendou revels in it. There’s a song he starts to sing, some inane jig that flows too naturally to have been made up on the spot. You can almost imagine him on the court beside Ushiwaka, singing it after stealing point after point from the other team. The two of them must have made a formidable team on the court.

They still do, you suppose.

You’ve never been one for volleyball, or sports in general, but even you can’t deny the sense of feral anticipation in the air as Ushijima steps up to serve on match point. Tendou has his hand wrapped tightly around yours, leaning forward in his seat to watch the spectacle. You can’t say you blame him.

You might hate him, but you can’t deny that his serves are a sight to behold. Your heart thumps as he throws the balls up, runs and launches himself into the air. His legs are arched, his form perfect and you still can’t quite believe how high he manages to get considering his size -

And then he hits the ball, palm slamming into the leather with a resounding smack - it flies over the net, damn near knocks the poor Libero off his feet as he tries to save it, but even that isn’t enough to stop it. The ball ricochets off his receive, spinning into the crowd and just like that - it’s all over.

Ushijima roars in victory, and Tendou turns to you, red eyes wild and delighted. You don’t have a moment to breathe, much less prepare yourself before his lips are crashing against your own.

The deafening cheers of the stadium fade out.

You can feel his racing pulse as he clutches you close, the unrepentant enthusiasm that pours through him as his tongue dances across your bottom lip, begging for entry. You’re stuck still, frozen in place as your soulmate steals his first kiss.

Somehow when you pictured this moment as a little girl, you didn’t imagine that it would be fear that floods your veins, that the soft, breathless laugh that Tendou gives as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours would scare you instead of making you feel safe and loved.

They walk you home together. It’s unnerving enough with just one of them, but with both your soulmates flanking you you’re more on edge than usual.

Or maybe it’s the slightly weird energy you can sense between the two of them. Tendou hasn’t stopped grinning since he kissed you and Ushijima still seems a little wired from his win. He hasn’t said much since the three of you left the stadium, but he’s holding you closer than normal, an arm slung low across your back, his fingers brushing possessively along your hip.

God, Kyoto can’t happen fast enough.

There’s a lump in your throat as you reach your apartment. They’d offered to take you out for dinner after the game finished - to celebrate Ushiwaka’s crushing victory over ‘those poor assholes’ as Tendou had put it - but despite the pit of hunger in your stomach, you’d politely refused. The less time spent with them the better.

Surprisingly, both Tendou and Ushijima had taken it in stride without so much as a peep.

But now you’re at the front door, keys in hand and Ushijima still has his arm draped around you. It’s not like they haven’t been in this position before, but despite all their gentle cajoling (well, gentle is relative - Tendou whines petulantly and Ushijhima just seems to hover silently like an overgrown bat) they’ve never actually been inside your apartment.

It’s your one sanctuary, and you very much want to keep it that way.

“Y’know, ‘Toshi and I’ve been thinking,” Tendou begins, snatching the keys out of your hand before you can stop him, chuckling and swatting at you when you try and grab them back. “Me ‘n the big guy, we really do love you, baby - head over heels, heart racing, butterflies in your stomach kinda love. It’s kinda sappy, actually. You have no idea how happy you’ve made us.”

The key slides into the lock and he twists it, pushing your door wide open. His eyes flash to yours and he grins, bowing as he gestures towards the open apartment. Your open apartment.

An invitation.

You blanch. “Um, I-I don’t think-”

Stupid of you to think you ever had a choice in the matter - Ushijima’s arm is an iron wall against your back, pushing you forward as he crosses the threshold.

Tendou follows behind the two of you, and the click of the door shutting behind you echoes far too loudly in your small apartment. He tosses the keys into the little dish on the kitchen counter - where they always go when you’re at home - and winks at you.

“I mean we are your soulmates so I ‘spose it’s kind of a given.” He shrugs, leaning back against the countertop, folding his arms over his chest. “But we can’t help but notice that you seem a little… uneasy around us. And I get it, baby, really I do. You’re just a little shy - it’s cool.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as Ushijima’s fingers curl around your jaw and he tilts your face to the side to meet his intense stare, “You’re being unnecessarily stubborn,” he elaborates.

A flicker of amusement dances in Tendou’s eyes at his bluntness. “We tried it your way - taking it slow and steady, trying to ease you in but, well… I think we can all agree your way isn’t working all that great.”

Your eyes snap back to him, “What?”

His grin widens, “So we figured it’s time we try it our way. We’ve been so good, baby! D’ya have any idea how hard it’s been to hold ourselves back?”

Ushijima’s grip is unrelenting, but that doesn’t stop you from frantically trying to fight your way out of it as Tendou pushes off the counter and stalks over to the two of you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, “Been waiting so long for this. Wanted to fuck you on the tables back in the diner in that cute lil’ uniform of yours.” He smirks down at you, his pupils blown wide and dripping with lust.

No. No, no, no! You shake your head frantically as he closes in, “Stop, wait! Let me go, LET ME GO! I-I don’t want-”

Your panicked words are cut off as Ushijima suddenly spins you around to face him. His hand cups your cheek, enveloping it entirely, and his broad thumb strokes the soft skin gently. “We’re not going to hurt you, little one. You just need to see - to feel what we feel for you.”

Whatever retort you have is swallowed up as he closes the gap between you and kisses you. He’s demanding - unrelenting - forcing your mouth open so that his tongue can taste yours. Distantly you register Tendou slotting in behind you, the unmistakable bulge that presses against your ass as he attaches himself to your neck. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs between kisses, fingers sliding to the hem of your top. “Let your soulmates take care of you, hm?”

It’s not like you’ve ever had a choice in the matter.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere tendou x reader #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere tendou satori #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #yandere tendou satori x reader #my fic #my writing #yandere imagines #yandere fic #tendou x reader #ushijima x reader #yandere hq #soulmate au #yandere soulmates #tw stalking #tw implied noncon #its 4 am im going to sleep

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Her substitute (1) - Need you

Title: Her substitute (1)

Summary: Once you were her best friend. Now her widower seeks shelter in your arms.

Square Filled: Cordell Walker

Ship: Cordell Walker x fem!Reader, Cordell Walker x Emily Walker (widowed)

Characters: Stella Walker

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of a loved one, grief, unrequited love, smut, protected sex, scared of feelings, guilt, sneaking around, secret affair

A/N: This is partially an AU. Cordell didn’t go undercover. Emily and the reader’s boyfriend died together on their way to Y/N’s birthday party. And the reader is Cordell’s partner for the sake of my story. His partner from the show will have an appearance either way.

Word Count: 1,7 k

Created for: @walker-bingo

Her substitute masterlist

2021 Walker Bingo masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Once upon a time life was good to you, great even.

Life was all you ever dreamed of. Until. One day. Your world exploded.

One day your best friend, the woman you considered family, and your boyfriend got killed after you tried to arrest an unforgiving man. You and your partner lost the people you love on the same day.

While you tried to pick up the pieces and put your life back together, Cordell preferred to despair, and to use you as an outlet for his pain, grief, and frustration.

He can be gentle and cruel within a heartbeat.

Emily was the love of his life but Jason was just someone you spend your days with to fill your empty life. Sometimes he calls you cold or heartless only as you gave Jason’s belongings to the Salvation Army after one year of grieving.

Cordell can never know the reason for your fast recovery…he can never know…

“I need you—“ it always starts with these three words, followed by a desperate look and his hands. God his large hands reach out for you to touch, caress and grope. “Baby Girl.”

“We talked about this, Cordell,” you weakly press your hands against his chest, shaking your head ever so slightly. “I can’t do this. We are partners and she was my best friend.”

“Didn’t stop you from fucking her widower not six months after she got killed,” here we go. The sweet and desperate Cordell is gone, replaced by a blank nerve wanting to hurt and drag you down. “Only as you got over Jason like he meant nothing to you doesn’t mean I can just stop grieving.”

“Then why do you come here to fuck me?” he takes off his cowboy hat, nervously playing with it. “Cordell, we shouldn’t do this. It’s no good for you or me. What if your kids find out?”

“All I can think about is to have you underneath me, pinned to the mattress and my cock so deep inside it hurts,” he drops his hat, steps over it to grasp for you. “I want you, baby girl.”

“Shit—” pinned to the wall seconds later you find yourself falling for your best friend’s widower all over again. It’s not a secret you were in love with Cordell before Emily even met him. He just never showed interest in asking you out and when Emily came into the picture, you backed off like the good friend you were.

“Say you need me,” he buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent deeply. “Baby girl, tell me that you need me and that you want to feel me.”

“Cordell, fuck baby,” you whimper his name, ignore the guilt eating your soul up once again. All you can focus on are his hands grip your waist to hoist you up, holding you midair until you sling your legs around his waistline hands cradling his face to kiss him deeply. “I need you.” It’s not a lie. You always needed him; he just didn’t know it.

“I need you too,” he kisses you fiercely, almost desperate to forget all the pain and his empty bed at home when he tugs at your clothes or moans your name. “Give in, baby girl.”

You are a mess, both of you. While you let Cordell strip you bare, not just your body but your soul and heart, he pants, moans, and whines on top of you.

It doesn’t take long for him to slide into you and pin your hands above your head to make sure you know this isn’t love-making.

Two sides of the very same coin hit you where it hurts the most. Every. Single. Time. He doesn’t take his time to be gentle and loving. Its raw, unadulterated lust driving him into you.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he watches your lips part and your eyes dilate when he starts to move his hips. “Look at me.” It’s a command you follow immediately. He holds your wrists pinned to the mattress to make sure you can't touch him gently. “Good girl, always so good for me.”

“Cordell, you need to—” his lips kiss your protest away, force moans and tiny whimpers out of you. “Please.”

“Just tell me you need me as much as I need you, Y/N,” he finally says your name, not baby girl, and you nod, ashamed you let the widower of your best friend fuck you like a whore on cheap sheets.

“I need you,” you choke the words out, looking away, not wanting to hold his gaze when the familiar burn is back, the one pushing you violently over the edge only to leave you hollow in the end.

“Look at you, so responsive,” his hands finally let go of your wrists to roughly cup your breasts. His thumbs toy with your nipples leave them hard and throbbing. “Those tits, so pretty,” he dives in, suckles one nipple into his hot mouth to push you closer to the edge.

He moves slow, deliberate, plays your body like an instrument. You are in trance, only feel his body press yours to the mattress, mind blank once again.

Another deep thrust makes you moan his name loudly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you grasp for his shoulders to bring Cordell closer to your heated body to hold him, even if it’s only for this fleeting moment. “Cordell.”

“So tight and warm for me,” his hands grip your thighs to spread you wider. He loves to watch his huge cock disappear in your pussy, the one only he owns. “You take me so well and deep, baby girl.”

You cry out in pleasure, back arching off the bed when his cock hits that spot taking your breath away. His large hands cup your ass, squeeze it tightly.

Cordell holds himself inside your body, stops moving to feel you clench tightly around his thick length. Just staring down at you.

“Cord, what’s wrong?” you whimper breathlessly.

“Just wanted to feel you cum before I fill this cunt up,” his pace becomes brutal after your orgasm.

He moans, eyes glued to your face as he tries to pretend you are only a warm body he can use, a toy to fulfill a primal need, not the woman he could fall for…

“Oh—” you watch him move on top of you, memorize his features, the way his hair is glued to his sweaty forehead, and those obscene veins in his arms, popping out. “I want you to cum, let me feel it, Cordell. Fuck me.”

“Fuck, you—shit Y/N,” he groans, hips jerking violently before he allows himself to let go.

When it’s over he rolls off you to dispose of the condom, already looking for his clothes on the floor.

You have a routine. He comes to your apartment, convinces you to let him fuck you, and leaves you alone and cold moments after your high.

Tonight, you wrap yourself into a sheet and turn around to not watch Cordell hastily put his clothes back on. You would give the world for him to stay the night, but you know he will leave soon.

As usual, you take deep breaths to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Thank you,” he says, and you feel like a fool all over again.

“I got a job offer in New York,” you casually say. “Do you remember? I always wanted to be with the FBI. Three years ago, they didn’t have a position for me, but last week, I got a call.”

“Oh—” is all you get. You can hear the ruffling of clothing, and then the door opens. “You should take their offer. Being my partner is a dead end. A girl like you shouldn’t stay a Texas Ranger,” the coldness in his voice breaks your heart.

“Yeah, maybe I should,” you clear your throat while you try not to cry. “I will call them on Monday. Have a great—” the door closes before you can say another word. “Figures…”

“FBI?” Stella blanches. “You want to go to New York to work with the FBI, Y/N?” she cries. “You can’t leave me too. Why is everyone leaving me?”

“Stella bear, nothing is decided yet,” you sit next to her on the steps, patting her thigh. “They called me two weeks ago, and I just thought I should at least fly to New York to talk to them. Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffles. “What did dad say? You are his partner, Y/N. He needs you,” you sling one arm around Stella’s shoulders, hiding she just added another crack to your fragile heart. “We need you. You are family to us. Mom loved you.”

“I loved your mom too, Stella bear,” giggling at the awful nickname Stella leans her head against your shoulder, and you feel the guilt overwhelm you once again. If only the girl knew you are banging her father. “She was my best friend and your dad is my friend too.”

“Y/N?” Cordell walks toward his house with long steps. “Is there an emergency? Do you need my help? It’s Sunday.”

“Your mom invited me for dinner, and I met Stella in town and drove her home. If you don’t want me here, I understand,” you try to keep the sadness out of your voice.

“Grandma wants a family dinner, dad,” Stella grumbles. “If I must spend time with my lame brother and you, I want Y/N to join us. At least she’s cool.”

“Cool?” Cordell smirks, glancing down at you. “I remember there was a time when she had braces and was a shy little mouse.”

“Y/N shy? I don’t believe a single word, dad,” she nudges your side. “Right, Y/N. You never were shy.”

“I hate to admit it, but I was a little shy. Your mom helped me break out of my shell and become the woman I am today. I miss her,” you sniff, watching Cordell sit next to his daughter.

“Emily, she always talked about you. How you helped her get better grades,” Cordell says. “She loved you too, Y/N.”

When you sit at his table half an hour later, watching Cordell with his family you decide your last encounter was the last time. You won’t risk messing his family up even more...

“We can’t do this again, Cordell,” you sigh when he leans in your doorframe, that look in his eyes again. “I told you after the dinner with your family we should stay only friends.”

“Y/N, we are friends but—” he cups your cheek with one hand, thumb swiping over your lips, “I need you, baby girl…”

>> Part 2

Walker Tags

@mimzy1994, @rach-12, @jaredpadaleckisbride

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

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#Her substitute (1) - Need you #cordell walker #cordell x reader #walkerbingo #cordell walker x reader #cordell walker fanfiction #cordell walker x fem!reader #smut #grief #loss of a loved one

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort?

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

"I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language.

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

#sebastian zöllner #sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zollner x y/n #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner x you #sebastian zöllner x reader #sebastian zöllner headcanon #sebastian zollner #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruehl #ich und kaminski #ich und Kaminski fanfiction #tw: depression #tw: self deprecation

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Streets

His phone pinged with another comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: You should fuck her.

Kurt had to do a double take. Surely there was no way Bobby had just asked him to make a whole sex tape.

There were other ways to become famous, Kurt thought.

But he was desperate. And Bobby needed content.

Warning: some choking, sexual encounter

As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

You knew if you were late to work one more time you would be fired and then you wouldn’t be able to make rent this week, and then the crippling feeling of adulting and being a massive failure would hit you during a 3 am binge of cheap wine. You’d already promised your roommate you’d pay them back but it just seemed like a shitty week.

Your car wouldn’t start, unsurprisingly, since it had been making all sorts of noises the day before. Add it to the list of things you’d have to inevitably pay for.

You sighed, bringing your phone out and going through the apps. Lyft? Too expensive right now. Uber? Too many creeps. Spree? It was some new rideshare app you never really paid attention to until now. But the sweet sweet price of a trip from your home to work was unmistakable.

You eagerly awaited your chariot to hell, eyes glued on the screen to the driver’s name. Kurt.

He’s there almost instantly, and you have to make the connection between driver and image just in case. You can never be too careful.

“Kurt?” You ask, bending to meet him at eye level from the outside.

A notification bar from the top of your screen indicates that your card was declined and so the Spree ride was canceled. Kurt’s name disappears from your phone. You grimace, looking back to him.

“You know what? It just canceled. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’ll get some other people today. No need to worry about it.”

You raise a brow. “Are you sure? I mean I’m sure there’s someone else who needs you right now.”

Oh but I do need you. He thinks.

He gives you a smile and waves your concern away. “Hop in! Don’t worry about it.”

In his head, he thinks this might work, no trail at all. No having to break into your phone and text or call someone about your whereabouts.

You hop in the backseat, finding solace in the silence for a few moments before Kurt turns to talk to you.

“Going deep huh?”

“Sorry?”

“I meant, you know, you were going to Vine and Hollywood. Must know some big people.”

You laugh nervously, most drivers wouldn’t make small talk with you sometimes. But that would stem from you not wanting to talk to them as much. Better to keep at your own business.

“Uh yeah I guess. Even if some of them are assholes sometimes.” You chuckle.

“You know anyone personally? Maybe you could get the word out for me. Have them tag me. My handle’s KurtsWorld96.”

You chuckled to yourself. This was Los Angeles after all, particularly Hollywood. Land of people who want to be a star by any means necessary.

“Yeah sure, I’ll bring it up sometime,” you say, bringing your attention back onto your phone to pass the time.

Before you can get a look into what’s new on your timeline you notice there are cameras everywhere in the car. One facing you, one in the back, two on opposite sides of Kurt and one next to you on the other seat. Oh geez.

Have you landed into a wrong ride share service? Was this a couch situation?

Kurt must’ve noticed your silent panic as he glanced at the mirror and pointed to his cameras.

“For safety.” He assured.

You nod understandingly.

You flip back to your phone, more aware of being filmed. You have to wonder if this footage were to get out if your employers will notice you called them assholes.

Kurt glances at his phone, seeing Bobby comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: This is boring.

BobbyBaseCamp: You have to do something WTF worthy!!

Kurt rolls his eyes. Though, he knew Bobby was right in some way. If he was gonna get anywhere with this live stream and get #TheLesson out there, he’d have to do something bigger than he had planned.

You’d been nothing but pleasant to him so far, and he’d been keeping an eye out on those waters that sat a mere few inches away from you.

His phone pinged with another comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: You should fuck her.

Kurt had to do a double-take. Surely there was no way Bobby had just asked him to make a whole sex tape.

There were other ways to become famous, Kurt thought.

But he was desperate. And Bobby needed content.

It didn’t hurt that you were attractive. And while it would’ve been a shame to kill you to further his agenda, for some reason he had to try to talk himself out of it. Maybe you had a boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t your type. Maybe you’d freak.

Bobby’s insults swirled in his head and in the comment section.

Fuck it.

Kurt swerved into an abandoned parking garage, hidden from view. Either thing he had planned today could work here, he just didn’t know it would be something else entirely.

He gets out of the car, and you finally snap from your phone daze to notice you’re not where you’re supposed to be. If anything you were somewhat still far from work.

Your eyes meet Kurt’s own as he opens the door to your side. You’re visibly confused but nonetheless move backward which lets him lean into the back and close enough to you to hover over.

It doesn’t even register that he’s kissing you until you relax under him, hands coming up to his sweatshirt. You don’t push him away yet, but revel in how he slides in between your legs awkwardly and closes the door behind him.

It had been a while, and while you weren’t complaining, you didn’t really know Kurt all that well.

Pulling back to get some air, you have to ask. “You don’t have like anything right?”

You don’t think he gets it until he responds that he’s never really done this.

One night stands were reserved for nights, right? Not abandoned parking garages in Old Hollywood territory during daylight.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He sighs, pulling back.

You don’t really know what to say. He wasn’t so bad looking. His appearance wasn’t too presenting. His hair wasn’t styled or cut, a little greasy maybe but he seemed sweet at first glance. Albeit a little socially awkward and persistent with his social following.

You answer him by lifting the ends of his sweatshirt up and over his head. He catches your drift and helps you, his tee going right after as your hands come down to his jeans. You pop the buttons, somewhat eager to unzip this complete stranger.

Kurt is faster, his fingers coming up to his mouth to lubricate. It’s the small things he’s trying to remember from porn.

Before you can get his pants down, his left-hand slides over your stomach and down into your own pants. You buck against his hand instantly, the feeling taking you by surprise and earning him a moan. You prop yourself up by your elbows and buck again, feeling his knuckle graze your most sensitive area.

He’s so focused on being able to sell this and you’re so entranced that you don’t notice when his other hand makes quick work under your bra. He squeezes lightly, thumb circling your nub. His other hand just pumping in and out of you painfully slow.

The oh so good feeling has you rolling back onto your back and moving closer to him to get the most out of his slender fingers.

The pornstar worthy moans make him smirk.

“Kurt,” you manage out, guiding him closer in between your legs and trying to get your damn jeans off.

He obliges, pulling your shirt up and over and letting it settle in the passenger seat where his camera was.

He’s quick at pulling your jeans and panties off, letting them fall somewhere in the pile. He dives back into you, legs fully spread, and locking him in. With one hand under the dip of your back and the other grasping onto your thigh roughly, he thrusts himself in, a deep grunt erupting from his chest.

He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck, muttering to himself. The feeling of you being so wet and tight makes his body go out of control. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced.

You whine as he pulls out, your arms coming up to wrap onto his torso and bring him as close as you can manage. It doesn’t feel fair, having you be naked all the way and him just halfway there but it doesn’t matter at this point.

He thrusts back in with abandon. Grunts, moans, and heavy breaths from both of you filling the car. He pulls your left leg up to his waist, angling himself close to where when he thrusts in again and again you clutch and scratch onto his back harder than before.

Your back arches with each hard and rough thrust he gives you, your legs close in on his lower back, trying to get as much of him as you can in you greedily.

He bottoms out, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, the action only intensifying what you were feeling tenfold. His lips leave yours and peck at your neck, collarbone, and breasts.

There was no way he was going to last long now. The feeling of you rocking and bucking to match his thrusts was euphoric and enough to make him come any second.

“Choke me.” You say breathlessly in between thrusts.

“What?” He’s out of breath as well and your request takes him by surprise but he complies and brings the hand that held your thigh to your throat. He presses his fingers down hard.

“Harder.”

Your hand reaches up to grasp his wrist as he grips your throat tighter than before. You smile in content, your eyes closing to revel at the moment.

Somehow the position of being in total control and having the opportunity to put you in some danger stimulated him even more. It fulfilled some primal desire in him.

If he couldn’t kill you, he’d have more fun edging himself.

“Don’t stop, oh god please,” you mewled, on the very cusp of release.

His fingers slipped back down in between your bodies, rubbing at you until you felt your eyes roll back.

Kurt felt close as you clenched around him. His thrusts became sloppy, the sound of skin against skin dying down. He let his head fall again, biting down onto your shoulder somewhat gently as his orgasm wracked through his body. The groan coming from him sent waves through your body and only added to your ecstasy.

But you weren’t done yet, lifting yourself and flipping the both of you over. Once you had him lying where you were, you rode out your high, grinding until you were nearly crying out from the overstimulation. The sight of him lost in pleasure, crying out and brows furrowed was a sight you knew you wouldn’t forget.

Your orgasm leaves you shaking like never before. You collapse on top of him soon after, satisfied. You almost would’ve initiated another round but instead reached for your discarded phone on the floor.

The time nearly made you jump out of the car naked, you were five minutes late.

“Shit!” You jumped, lifting yourself up and letting his cock fall back against his lower belly. “I’m late.”

As though he too was alarmed and more aware of what he just did, he sat up and you both rushed to get your clothes back on. He glanced at his phone, seeing the notifications from Bobby blowing up one after the other.

He might have to ask Bobby not to release this.

“I got it,” Kurt said, returning to the driver’s seat in a second and turning the car back on.

You fixed yourself up again, trying not to look like you just had sweaty spontaneous sex with your driver like some kind of tacky porno. All eyes would be on you.

Kurt drove like a madman and braked hard as he parked right outside the building of where you worked.

You gathered your things and rushed out of the car before turning back to bend to Kurt’s window again. “Do you have a pen?”

Kurt passed you one but instead of writing on paper, you used it to write your name and number on his hand.

Were you really giving this guy your information? He wasn’t such a bad lay, to be honest.

Feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks you smiled, “Maybe you can come over or something.”

Clearly flustered but still appreciative, he smiled back that innocent charming smile.

With that, you headed into work running and trying to come up with an excuse. Completely unaware of what was about to go down that day. Oblivious to the truth about your new crush until you went onto social media later on.

#spree #spree 2020 #kurt kunkle #joe keery #kurt kunkle x reader #joe keery x reader #anyway sorry if this is trash I really needed to vent this lol #smut #idk your consensus here but dc’s streets song really made me think of Kurt

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jomilky · 2 years

Note

jo, i've gotten back to it way too often now, so, please. that gods au. first off - how dare you not show us the kind of dirty talk ian throws at mickey? second off - what's the hook? what's terry's agenda? and, most importantly, when will mickey lose it, give up his cover and finally let ian rail him?

you got me hooked, it's not my fault you got this big brain of yours, okay.

Mickey watches how Ian hooks up with a guy at the bar and flashes his room key between two fingers, inviting the guy to his motel room. This’s the second time today, the second time this horny redhead has to jump on somebody between going around and asking things about Mickey’s mother. He can’t help wondering where Ian’s got all those energy, even as a God. What’s worse, he can’t help wondering what cheap pick-up lines Ian says to those people.

The same shit he says to him all the time, he’ll bet. “You look gorgeous today, Mickey. Your wings are glowing. Why don’t we have some fun and see how it feels if you put those wings around my cock. Maybe just the tips.” “You never wear anything when we’re in the upper world, Mickey. When you fly, I can see your fat ass jiggle. Gives me a wood every damn time.” “C’mon, Mickey. At least try once with me. I promise I can do a great job taking care of you, sweetheart. Me pounding your ass would be the most sacred music ever.” - It’s always Mickey, Mickey, Mickey, and some cheesy pet names.

Mickey puts the bottle down and walks towards the door, since the redhead’s gone having fun now, he might as well go to inquire about his mother himself too. He almost bumps right into a tall guy’s chest by the door. Looking up, he finds a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Mickey? What’re you doing here?” Ian seems a lot more surprised than Mickey. Mickey doesn’t come down to mortal’s world very often. “You look stunning when you’re wearing clothes too, gorgeous. Although I can always use some eye candy.”

“The fuck are you doing here?” Mickey shoots Ian a dagger look. For fuck’s sake, he hopes he doesn’t sound jealous and desperate.

“I, um, just, hanging out and wanna grab a few beers.” Ian nods at the bar.

Lie. Mickey swallows hard in the attempt to douse the fire in his chest. He gives Ian a rough push so he could make it out of the door.

Something new, dark, unrecognizable shoots through his shaking body when Ian follows him into the dusky back alley.

“Hey! Mickey! Where’re you going?”

Mickey stops abruptly and turns around.

“Suck my dick, Gallagher.” He calmly makes his command.

“Wh- what?” Ian can’t believe what he just heard.

“Suck my dick. I saw you do this to someone yesterday, in the woods.”

Ian has never been more confused in his immortal life. “What? You’ve been following me?”

“You gonna do it or not.”

“Well, yes. Of course yes.” Ian steps forward and tries to yank Mickey’s shirt off his head. Finally, Mickey finally breaks down for him. But Mickey grips his wrists.

“Why’re you taking my shirt off? Just pull down my pants.”

“No, Mick. If you still wanna wear clothes when we’re done here. You should take it off. Your wings will come out when you cum, trust me.”

“I can control my own wings.” Mickey sounds offended.

“I know you can, but not when it feels this good, trust me.” Ian cups Mickey’s crotch without warning.

“Fine,” Mickey mumbles while taking his clothes off. Ian’s already on his knees and unbuckling Mickey’s belt. “How many winged Gods you’ve fucked to learn this?”

“Hmm, am I smelling envy here?” Ian smirks smugly before he bows his head and takes Mickey’s cock in his mouth. When the weight of Mickey’s cock lays on his tongue, it feels just like - no - it feels even better than he has imagined all along. He puts both hand on Mickey’s ass, keeping his balance while bobbing his head back and forth, eager to offer, to please.

And God, Mickey cum so fast it’s embarrassing. With an uncontrollable low yelp, his wings spread behind him gloriously and wrap around both of them, forming a beautiful white shield as he pants, trying to come down from his vulnerable high.

Ian swallows every last drop and cleans Mickey’s cock willingly, pressing soft kisses on the half-flaccid length, until Mickey suddenly flinches violently and backs off.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Mickey looks left and right with shocked eyes. His voice boiling with anger and fear and confusion. “What’ve you done to me, Gallagher?!”

Ian looks up. Mickey’s white wings are tipped with black now, shading into grey as the new color spreads downwards.

“Mickey, Mickey.” Ian pins Mickey against the wall to stop him from fidgeting. He forces Mickey to look at him. Tears of mixed emotions are shining in Mickey’s blue eyes. He swears to himself that the next time he sees tears in those gorgeous blues, it’d be tears of joy and lust.

“Mickey, listen to me. You’re not God of Purity. You’re God of Defiance. Your wings are meant to be all black.”

#wow this’s so long #im sorry but also not really #gods au #ask box

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delimeful · 4 years

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let my mind reset (2)

happy holidays, i brought everyone's favorite gift: high tension plot & tragic backstories!

warnings: imprisonment, mentions of death/mass murder/genocide, involuntary drug use, antagonist original character, panic attack, flashbacks, mild injury, taser

Roman wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in the holding cell.

His first idea had been to mark the cycles on one wall, to gather his bearings by the sky’s map, but there were no window ports, no view of the universe outside at all. Not even the greatest Crav’n navigator could’ve worked without a single star to go off.

He knew he was on a vessel, at least. Unlike his crewmates, Roman was more than familiar with the difference between artigrav and genuine gravity. They didn’t really understand it when he attempted to describe the sensation, but then, they didn’t seem to get headaches from low-quality antigrav systems, either.

Gods above, his crew. He hoped they were safe, hoped that at least that Human was good for something and would keep them from venturing onto the same moon that Roman had been so underhandedly abducted from.

No, with any luck, they wouldn’t be able to get involved. The way he’d been abducted-- drugged and dragged off-- it reeked of black market smuggling. Whatever they’d nabbed him for, it was probably his species they cared about, not his crew. He tried not to think too hard about what that meant for him, but...

There wasn’t much to do but think, in a cell like this. He had enough space to take three strides, from one wall of bars to the next, and no more. Nutrient gel packs were dropped through the slot of the back wall with alarming irregularity. The neighboring cells were empty, and everything was alway eerily, lifelessly silent.

Roman wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in the holding cell, but it was long enough that by the time he heard a distant cacophony, he was instantly alert, scales prickling in anticipation.

The noises grew closer and closer, and a piercing, glowing alarm lit the connecting corridor moments before the door to the cell block was being slammed into. Roman backed up, trying to figure out what sort of internal invasion he’d gotten caught up in.

On the third blow, the door crumpled inward like cheap plating, and an undeniably Human figure stood in the empty frame, panting. Familiar eyes immediately locked onto his cell.

“Virgil?” Roman squawked in alarm. He took a daring step toward the bars, barely believing what his own mind was perceiving. Was this another dream?

“Roman! You’re alive.” Virgil’s shoulders slumped dismissively, as though he wasn’t the one who had apparently boarded an enemy ship to find him. Despite all the questions he had, Roman felt immediately and irrevocably offended.

“No need to look so disappointed,” he growled, making the Human’s face scrunch up unpleasantly.

“What? No-- Never mind. We can chat when you’re out of there.” Virgil hurried down the hall to his cell, gripping the lockbox as though he could pull it apart. “Where’s the key?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Roman hissed, attempting to glance over his shoulder to the open hall the Human had come from. It was empty, for the moment. “I haven’t even seen another person in this place, let alone the vital instrument to my escape!”

Virgil pulled back, freakish eyes strangely wide. “Seriously? You’ve been alone this whole time?”

There was something oddly strained about his voice, but Roman didn’t exactly have the luxury of attempting to interpret whatever the Human was implying at the moment. He felt his tail thumping the floor anxiously. “Can we please focus?”

“Right.” Virgil shook his head sharply, releasing his deathgrip on the lockbox. “Right, uh, maybe I can li-- ghk.”

Abruptly, the deathworlder seemed to freeze up, jaw clenched, limbs rigid, chest still. To Roman’s horror, he spotted a trickle of red spill from the corner of his lips. “Virgil!”

As though the spell had been broken, the Human staggered, and then fell forward, knocking clumsily into the bars and gripping them for support as his breathing started up again, twice as ragged as before. The overhead alarm went utterly quiet.

Now that Virgil had half-collapsed, Roman could see past him, to the door frame.

There was another Human standing there at the threshold.

They were tall, with pallid skin and rust-colored hair cropped shorter than Virgil’s, wearing well-fitted clothes, and with a finger on the trigger of a black, boxy weapon that Roman couldn’t identify. Thin, barely-visible wires connected it to Virgil. Virgil, who had taken four paralyzers at once and managed to keep fighting, but was barely stirring after one hit from this.

He opened his mouth to speak, not knowing what would come out, and his eyes caught on the emblem sewn onto the Human’s outfit.

He knew it.

It felt like his every scale was on end, unfiltered terror coursing through him.

“Found it,” the Human said, completely composed. Their free hand was raised up to an ear, pressing against the communicator there. “Ended up at the Crowned’s block instead of an exit. Should I take it to the reinforced cells?”

There was a pause as whoever was on the other end replied, and the Human glanced to Roman with nothing but ice in their gaze. “And the Crowned? … Of course. Right away.”

Clicking the comm off, they stepped forwards and yanked the wires free, ignoring the way Roman flinched. They poked at Virgil’s leg with the tip of their shoe, and then easily hauled their fellow Human to his feet. Virgil’s eyes went wide at the sight of them, but only for a moment. He immediately bared his teeth, gripped the other right back and dug his fingers in. “Let go.”

“Vicious, are we?” They muttered, unconcerned. “You can’t win, so don’t even try. I’ll be nice and warn you in advance: anything you do to me, I’ll double back onto your Crowned friend over there.”

At the gesture to Roman, Virgil went still, his hold loosening. There was something off about that, Roman thought, but his mind seemed to be working through a thick fog, everything hazy and slow. The unfamiliar Human only nodded, as though they’d confirmed something, and pulled open the cell next to Roman’s before half-shoving Virgil towards it. “In.”

Still unsteady, Virgil stumbled heavily as the door was swiftly shut and locked behind him. The Human turned away, hand already returned to their communicator.

“I need two reinforced cells prepared for our lady. Clean up whatever’s left in them.”

They stepped past the shattered door, out of the room, and were gone. Roman felt his frozen posture thaw slightly, but there was no sense of relief. His pulse continued to race.

A cell over, Virgil leaned heavily against the bars, a sheen of sweat across his skin.

“That rescue attempt,” he said, voice rough, “went less than good.”

Ire rose in Roman hot and fast, like boiling water. It was as good a distraction as any. He turned to Virgil sharply, arms spread aggressively. “What were you thinking?”

“What?” Virgil asked, going still with surprise.

“You shouldn’t have come here. We’re both trapped here now.” He grabbed his own arm tightly, claws digging in. “This isn’t some low-grade smuggling ring you can slaughter your way out of!”

“Roman, I--,” Hurt, and then frustration flashed across Virgil’s face. “Come on, I came to help you--!”

“Oh, what a joke.” Roman snarled, his breath coming faster. “Help me? All you’ve done is gotten us both stuck in an even tighter trap.”

“I wasn’t trying to--”

“Oh, yes, I’ll believe that, coming from a Human,” Roman scoffed, ears flattening back aggressively. His head pounded in rhythm with the painful buzz of the artigrav.

Virgil stood up a little stiffer, eyebrows drawing in. Roman felt an odd vindication. The Human had certainly never made this harsh expression around Patton. “Me being Human doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Roman’s laugh caught oddly in his throat, coming out bitter and shattered. “It has everything to do with this. You think it’s a coincidence that this is the first Human that we’ve run into since you? That they abducted me for no reason?”

Virgil stared at him, glancing at the open doorway the other Human had vanished through. “You know this place.” It wasn’t a question.

“I know these Humans,” Roman corrected sharply, trying to keep the chill from his bones as reality set in. It was harder, now that the heat of his anger was fading out.

“How?” Virgil asked, apparently doing his best to stoke those dying embers. He glanced at the door to his cell, assessing. “If you know something that could help--”

“Nothing can help us!” Roman snapped, breaths harsh and gasping. The walls were drawing closer, pressing down on him. “These Humans took everything from me! Everyone I ever knew, gone in a single night! I’m the only one left!”

There was no sudden ringing silence, no perceptible shift in the universe now that he’d admitted the truth. There was just him, and the Human, still in cells, still doomed.

“I’ve lived-- all this time for-- for them, and Humans,” his lungs were beginning to ache, “Humans can’t even-- won’t let me do that right.”

Virgil moved closer to the bars, slow and uncertain. “Hey. Roman, hey, easy. Roman, you have to breathe. Breathe, okay?”

His voice was lower, softer. Coaxing, like he was luring a small animal out of hiding. It was like watching a Human pretending to be an ally, like watching a Human using the voices of other victims, like watching a Human turn and slaughter his tribe-- his friends-- his family.

The past and present seemed to overlap, an insignia burnt into the Human’s clothes where it hadn’t been before. Roman snarled at him, but the noise came out choked and small, like he was a kit again.

Virgil-- his mother’s murderer-- the Human was still talking, the words echoing and rolling over each other until the noise was indecipherable. There was an undertone of urgency to its voice as Roman backed further away-- pushed himself deeper into the hidden crevice-- hid away like a coward.

When he finally blacked out, it was almost a blessing.

---

When he woke, his cell was different.

It was narrower, and composed entirely of thick, interlacing bars, no solid back wall to lean on. No food slot, either. The space was lit from above, and in the cell next to his, he could see Virgil pacing like a caged animal. The rest of the room was too dark to make out.

The moment he shifted to sit up, the Human’s eyes were on him. “Roman!”

Roman steeled himself, but Virgil was oddly muted, and he stayed firmly on the side of his cell furthest away. Even that meager distance wasn’t far enough to keep Roman’s pulse steady-- or enough to hide the bruised swelling on one side of Virgil’s face. “What happened to you?” he asked, pressing a palm to his own headache. The non-Human one.

Virgil’s hand drifted up to the injury absently. “Made some trouble when they were moving us.”

Roman stared at the injury for a moment longer. If this was how brutal these Humans were to one of their own, he didn’t even want to think about how they’d treat him.

“I called their bluff,” Virgil continued, as though Logan had connected their minds. “Whoever they answer to explicitly instructed them not to let you get hurt.”

“Not yet, at least,” Roman replied darkly.

Virgil just nodded, face tight with stress. “Not yet. That gives us time.” He paused, working his jaw for a moment. “If... if they’ve been keeping you here for this long, maybe we could find other survivors—“

“They’re dead, Virgil,” Roman cut him off, voice flat and toneless. His anger had burned out. “The bodies— I was the only one left to perform the wake afterwards.”

Virgil went quiet. Roman felt his mind slipping back to thick smoke and burnt flesh, and shook himself harshly, one loud rattle of his scales to try and ground himself. “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Virgil replied, and then paused before Roman could demand a less vague answer. He pressed a finger to his mouth. “Hang on. Footsteps.”

There were a few beats of silence, and then a door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. For a moment, the hallway beyond was enough to cast a dim light over the rest of the room. Roman could make out rows of these narrow, empty cells, enough to hold more Humans than he ever wanted to see again.

It was the same Human from before, and Roman was surprised to find that their lip was split, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. It was vindicating to see that Virgil had given as good as he’d gotten.

Any semblance of calm fled Roman’s body as the Human walked into the circle of light shining down over their cells, right up to the meager barrier between them. Human limbs were thin enough to reach through the bars, and the thought was enough to make him shift back, flaring up aggressively with every threat display he had.

“Don’t worry, your highness,” the Human said, their eyes rolling strangely in their skull. “I’m not here for you, not this time.”

Almost against his will, Roman’s gaze flickered to Virgil, who was standing stock-still in the middle of his cell, chest rising and falling only fractionally. The Human popped open the cell casually, and then waved when Virgil didn’t move.

“Come on, come on,” they chided, “you have a doctor's appointment to keep.”

Like the words were an igniting spark, Virgil took two running steps forward and launched himself at them.

It was barely a fight. The Human didn’t even hesitate, smoothly catching Virgil by the upper arms and twisting until he went down with a cry of pain Roman had never heard from him before. Even half-pinned to the floor, he continued to writhe and twist, a guttural hiss escaping him.

“Relax,” they ordered impatiently, shaking him once, “they know how to properly sedate here. Anesthetic and everything. You won’t feel a thing.”

Contrary to their attempt, Virgil’s struggles doubled in intensity, thrashing with a strength that seemed to surpass anything he’d displayed in front of Roman or the others before. “No! No!”

The Human swore offhandedly, grabbing something from a pocket. “Damn. Thought that would work, with reports on how you came in.”

In one simple movement, they wrapped their hand around Virgil’s neck, and waited as his struggles became heavy and leaden.

They were killing him, a tiny, panicked voice in Roman’s mind screamed.

He didn’t realize he had crossed the short length of his cell until he was already gripping the bars, rattling against them. “Stop! Let him go!”

The Human glanced up, eyebrows raising slightly. When they lifted their hand, the distinctive white square of a tranq patch was left behind, pressed firmly into the skin.

Not dead. Roman felt a shocking amount of relief, his scales drooping with the force of it. He just… didn’t want to see another person murdered by a Human, that was all.

The Human slung Virgil over a shoulder, recapturing his attention.

Right. Not dead. Just drugged into unconsciousness, about to be dragged off to who-knew-what.

“Wait!” Roman reached out, barely able to fit his wrist past the bars. There was white noise rising in his ears. “Look, it’s me you want, right? To-- To finish what you started, tie up the loose ends. That Human doesn’t have anything to do with this. So don’t do anything-- he’s not involved.”

“Oh, now that’s funny.” The Human laughed, the sound caustic, and leaned in. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, your highness. It doesn’t matter if he’s involved or not. Out here, the only thing a rogue Human needs to do to be targeted is exist.” They paused, mock-thoughtful. “Kind of like you, actually.”

Roman felt his entire being prickle with white-hot fury, a low growl rumbling in his chest. To say that his people deserved to be slaughtered for just existing… Human cruelty really knew no bounds.

“Speaking of,” the Human continued languidly, “I'll be back soon to show you to your own appointment.”

Roman felt his insides turn to ice.

“The boss has finally called for you.”

#sanders sides #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #ts virgil #ts roman #original character #writing #my writing #im not exactly happy with how this chapter turned out so im going to say please donnt be too rough on it #also the original character is not a side just 2 be clear #this chapter is a little heavy take care of yourselves #but also remember things get better! promise

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iluvthingsfree99 · 4 years

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bräñdÿ mēłvïłłē methods!!

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED FOR TEENS! i haven’t seen anyone do this yet so i wanted to share the methods that work for me @ basically any bräñdÿ store !! also i have done all of these with at least one or two of my lifter friends and it has worked so far (knock on wood).

let’s start off with the precautions to take beforehand:

i HIGHLY recommend having a friend when going into brandy. the stores that are not located on a street or something are generally much smaller (and more difficult to lift from), compared to those in a plaza or mall. the ones in the PLAZAS or MALLS are the best options to go to especially during the pandemic. what i personally like doing a day before lifting is googling the store that you’re going to visit on yelp or any other website that can show the store’s exterior and interior. i always do this to get a realistic idea of the store’s layout based on where the register is in the pictures. don’t forget to go on their website and scout some clothing you might like! though, there is no option to check what is inside the store and isnt, it’s good to have a general idea of what you want in terms of basics, outerwear, bottoms, etc etc.

me and my friends also usually wear very basic bräñdÿ girl clothing like mom jeans, a cropped long sleeve top, oversized sweater, and converse. since these bräñdÿ’s are located in wealthier areas, i try to look a bit more upperclass so they wouldn’t expect anything. we bring dark-colored tote bags (thank god for this trend) or one of us brings a kanken since mostly teenage girls are in/work there and we dont look suspicious. we also save large shopping bags from common clothing stores such as uniqlo, urban outfitters, zara, etc. and hold one bag each with a sweater or two inside (depending on the size) to make it appear as if we’ve bought a lot of clothing and that we have money to spend inside of the store (jokes on them, we never do AHAHAHA). kankens are very very useful since theyre small and no one really expects anyone to steal with it but trust me, it can hold A LOT.

next, what we’re usually all worried about - TAGS:

don’t worry about them in this store! there is NO security tags on any of the brandy melville clothing. (most likely because they are placed in more wealthier areas/malls) usually, they are just casually hung up by a wire wrapped in fabric or folded and placed on benches. i live in the US and i have never seen any kind of security tag ranging from the pencil kind to the more rounded ones.

now, who to watch out for:

CONFIDENCE IS KEY! don’t be nervous love! it’s usually a bunch of scrawny girls that work there anyways and from what i’ve seen, they do not have an LP and they very rarely have security guards. an LP is a higher up representative from the company that comes in to watch the tapes but they very rarely come by. the only thing to be aware of is the WORKERS. they are often dressed in regular plain clothing and blend in with other customers around you. when you walk in, it is only easy to distinguish the people working the register. i say to spend 5 minutes, browsing and picking up/putting back items to get a feel for the place and to see who are workers and who’s not. often, they go around to fix and fold varying items or they’re restocking different areas. customers and workers can be easily confused so i recommend staying on your toes and being self-aware. this is where a lookout is most useful and why i highly suggest bringing a friend just to keep an eye on anyone that may be passing by.

and for the BEST part - how to actually lift:

due to the size of the store, me and my friends have distinguished a language of common things to say in code. for instance, i might say, “can you reach that tank top for me?” which basically translates to: “i’m going to put this in my bag, keep a lookout.” we always, always, ALWAYS make sure to go into a blindspot because it is so hard to find the cameras unless they are placed directly on the wall (honestly, thank god for the pandemic because these masks are SUCH lifesavers since they cover your face). anyways, since the tops are flimsy it is *very easy to stuff it in your regular lifting bag. if it is your first time, i reccomend getting any and all tops. i usually just put some in my extra shopping bag quickly and pile up on them. i also carry my kanken with only one arm and leave the zipper a bit open for my friends to easily slip in anything they want inside. i am about 5′4 and both of my friends are 5′6 - 5′7 so usually one person stands in front of me and one is behind me so then the person in front can reach for anything i might like, take it off the hanger and pass it to my friend behind me to place in my bag. it can also work with two people where the person holding the kanken passes each top to their friend behind them. but for the 3 people, i hope this poorly drawn diagram explains it a bit better LMFAOOO

for sweaters, since they are thicker, i mostly use a large zara shopping bag and place it under an actual zara puffer i got previously (but honestly any sweater from any store would work as a cover for it too, i’m just a very paranoid person and scared they might check my bag LMAO). moving the clothes around would be loud but they always play music in the store and those working are always doing something else. last but not least, for pants, this is when i like to use my kanken since they are larger than both a sweater and a tank it’s riskier. i usually hold them up to my waist, see if they might fit, and then i pretend to set it down when really i’m folding it to make it smaller. after, it is folded or rolled up very tightly, my friend becomes a lookout and i open the zipper to my kanken “looking for my wallet” and then i just stuff it in really quickly. before exiting the store, make sure you have no sleeves stinking out of ANY of your bags because there is almost always someone waiting at the door counting those coming in and out because of covid. remember to act CASUAL! if you act nervous, it will most definitely show to the workers. me and my friends are usually in there for about 15 - 30 minutes which is kind of a long time so one of us actually buys something cheap and simple as an explanation while the others leave and wait somewhere else.

and i think that is it AHAHA. if you have any questions or if i missed anything, be sure to pm me, i am more than happy to help !! remember: act casual! dont conceal on camera / BLINDSPOTS ARE YOUR BESTFRIEND! trust your gut and dont get greedy with items! i know everything in there is cute but it’s always good to not overdo it for the sake of both yourself and your safety!

here’s something for all the new babylifters too:

the paranoia gets better over time! use all the information on liftblr at your disposal and learn from experience and new knowledge! remember that whatever corporation you are lifting from, it is from a company that rakes in millions upon millions of dollars exploiting workers for a shirt that only takes 6 cents to make but is being sold for $26. the toxic capitalist system is justification enough and i promise that the workers and the company itself are BARELY affected by lifting. taking $200 worth of clothes or even $16, it is merely pocket change to these corporations. so, always stay safe and good luck loves !!!

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dracusfyre · 3 years

Text

Wing and a Prayer

Had a pretty bad bout of writer’s block towards some of my WIPS so I took a break and wrote a quick wingfic, I’ve never written wingfic before and was intrigued to give it a shot. Shout out to @massivespacewren for the prompt :)

also on AO3

~~~

"Oh, shit-"

It was just a brief curse before Tony's comms cut out, and in the scheme of things, "oh shit" was rather mild given the situation. But there was a note in Tony's voice that made Bucky look up from his rifle scope to find him, trying to see the flash of his repulsers and the dark brown of his wings amidst the cloud of drones that were swarming the city.

"Oh, fuck," Bucky breathed when he found him. He dropped his rifle and started running, keeping his eyes on where Tony was dropping rapidly, his desperately flapping wings and the intermittent bursts from apparently busted repulsors doing little to slow his fall.

Steve was on the other side of the fight, covering some escaping civilians as the dive-bombing drones tried to knock them from the sky, and Natasha and Clint were too far away. "Tony, I'm coming!" He shouted, ripping at the velcro on his body armor and shrugging it off as he ran. This was Tony's nightmare, his repulsors failing him while he was in the sky now that his flight muscles were compromised by the arc reactor. He left his ammunition and hand grenades with his tac belt on the edge of the roof as he jumped, his wings stretching to their limit as he strove for height. As he flapped he realized he was still carrying too much weight to catch Tony, so he glided for a second, catching thermals coming off of the sun-lit city streets to lift him up as he reached down and unzipped his combat boots, kicking them off to land somewhere below. Another roof was coming up, so he sprinted along the roof, ignoring the broken glass and rocks that dug into his feet, then jumped off the edge again with more powerful beats of his wings. He was gaining on Tony, who had somehow figured out how to use the failing repulsors to at least steer him towards a place to land that might be more forgiving than the city streets, wings spread for a few moments at a time before the muscles gave out and they crumpled.

“Come on, come on,” Bucky said breathlessly, chest and lungs burning as he struggled to catch up. Whoever was controlling the drones had seen that Tony was vulnerable, and he was having to waste precious repulsor power shooting them down as they attacked him. A small swarm spotted Bucky trying to rescue him and moved to intercept, but as they closed in on him Bucky twisted into a tornado flip, flicking out his wings so the the razor sharp vibranium primaries on his wings sliced through the drones, leaving most of them damaged or disabled. It cost him some height, though, and he cursed as he tried to make up for it, ignoring the last remaining drone as it dived at him like a mobbing bird, until it got too close and he grabbed it, metal arm crushing the central processer and tossing it to the side.

“Tony, I need you to fold your wings,” Bucky said urgently, searching their surroundings for a good landing point. He was finally a little higher than Tony and tilted his wings on a course for intercept, steeper than a glide but not quite so sharp as a dive.

“What?” Tony said with surprise, and Bucky saw him craning his neck to see where Bucky was. “What do you-“

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but-“

“Wings in, now!” It was gratifying to see the speed that Tony obeyed, folding his wings tight up against his back even though it violated every instinct a person had, to close their wings while falling. He also stopped trying to use his repulsors and brought his arms to his chest and his legs together, turning into exactly the kind of target that Bucky needed.

Bucky hit him at a high enough speed that it almost knocked the breath out of him and he heard Tony grunt, but Tony didn’t move as Bucky wrapped his arms around Tony’s chest, even though he probably crushed a few feathers in the process. Bucky’s wings strained with the extra weight, and the glide turned into more of a dive than Bucky was comfortable with. He knew he couldn’t land like this; they were picking up speed too fast to even land safely – or even unsafely - on a grassy field, the force of the impact would be fatal. They had to get out of the sky now.

Bucky eyed one of the skyscrapers that was looming in the sky in front of them and groaned inwardly. This was going to suck. As he steered towards one of the huge glass windows, he brought his metal hand up to tuck Tony’s head into his shoulder and protect his spine, then at the last second he curled his wings around them and prayed that the vibranium-reinforced bones of his wing wrists would be enough to break through the glass.

It did, but it hurt; the impact shuddered through his bones, and his muscles screamed at the effort of keepings his wings tight around them as they rolled through desks and cubicle dividers before finally coming to a stop.

“Ow,” Bucky said, letting his exhausted wings flop open to splay out on the cheap commercial carpeting as he opened his eyes to check the damage. He looked down at Tony, who was laying on his chest. “Are you okay?” he asked, as he let go.

“Am I okay?” Tony sat up sharply and scrambled off of Bucky’s chest to start checking him for injuries. “You flew through an industrial-strength window! Are you insane? Those things are specifically designed to not be broken by people throwing themselves at them!”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” He wanted to say, I’m okay, but he wasn’t entirely sure if that was true or not – pain was starting to make itself known even through the adrenaline rush, the hot ache of overworked muscles, sharp pains that meant he was probably bleeding, and the throb of something that was probably torn or dislocated. But Tony seemed fine, judging from the way he was still scolding Bucky while his hands, gentle despite their briskness, ran over his arms and legs and combed through the feathers on his wings, searching for injuries. “Better than hitting the ground, right?”

Tony paused for a moment, sat back on his heels and looked Bucky in the eyes. Bucky wondered if he knew how his wings were hunched protectively over Bucky. “Thank you,” he said, and Bucky got a glimpse of the fear he must have felt as he fell. “Whoever is guiding the drones realized that the repulsors were helping me fly and also helping me shoot down the drones, so they had the drones suicide bomb me until they took them out.”

“Figured something like that had happened,” Bucky said, managing a wan smile. The pain was really starting to set in now, so he tried to sit up or roll over before he got stuck on the floor like a wet rag. The effort tore a groan out of him as he realized that yep, his maneuver had definitely dislocated his wings.

“Oh, God, Bucky,” Tony said, giving him a hand to help him sit up, looking with dismay at how Bucky’s wings sagged on his back, dragging limply on the carpet. He ran his hands along the wing bones, searching for breaks; Bucky could have told him that with the amount of vibranium that Hydra had used to reinforce his bones, they would probably be ripped off before anything broke, but instead Bucky watched and wished he could feel Tony’s touch around the unignorable shriek of pain coming from his shoulders. “I don’t feel any breaks, I think they’re just dislocated,” Tony said after a moment.

“Do you know how to reset them?”

“In theory.” Tony grimaced. Now he was smoothing down Bucky’s ruffled coverts, unconsciously grooming Bucky as his gaze searched the room that they’d tumbled into. Their impact had left a trail of broken or shoved aside office furniture, tangled computer cables, and dented filing cabinets, but it wasn’t like they’d landed in a doctor’s office so there wasn’t a convenient examination table with wing supports for them to use. “Guess we’ll just have to do it laying down.”

Bucky mourned when Tony stopped grooming to help Bucky move so he could lay down on his stomach, though the movement was less “laying down” and more “controlled topple” as Tony let him down slowly. Tony had to spread out Bucky’s wings by hand, fussing more than he needed to as he made sure that none of the feathers were torqued or twisted, staying carefully away from Bucky’s deadly primaries. Tony also made tiny noises as he saw the places on Bucky’s back where the glass and debris had cut him on the way in, but reported that none of the injuries were major. As Bucky rested his head on his arms, he directed Tony on how to reset his shoulder joints. “I need you to do it fast and hard,” Bucky warned him. “You can’t be afraid of hurting me, because doing it more than once would be even worse.”

“I will,” Tony said, patting Bucky between his shoulder blades reassuringly. “One, two, thr-“ and halfway into three he shoved hard, before Bucky could tense up, and even as Bucky choked on a scream of pain he heard the pop of the joint resetting. Bucky panted harshly as the pain on that side settled into an angry pulse that felt much better than it had before, even though it was going to be a while before Bucky would want to move his wings on purpose. “Do you want me to wait before I do the next one?” Tony asked, sounding concerned.

Bucky swallowed back a whimper at the thought of going through that again. “Yes,” he forced himself to say. “Just give me a minute.”

“Okay.” Tony sat against Bucky’s side, a warm weight at his hip, and started grooming Bucky’s wing comfortingly, straightening out the feathers, smoothing them down, and picking out the detritus that had gathered in them. Despite everything, Bucky felt himself relaxing; it had been a long time since anyone had cared for his wings with anything other than brisk professionalism.

He could have laid there all day letting Tony do that, but Bucky reminded himself that there was a battle going on outside their impromptu refuge and so he said, “Okay, I’m rea- FUCK!”

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Tony said, this time stroking down Bucky’s back as he shuddered from the second relocation. “It’s better when you’re not expecting it.”

“Yep,” Bucky agreed through gritted teeth, trying to focus on the feeling of Tony’s hand on his back rather than the pain radiating from his shoulders. “So what’s the plan now?” he asked, trying to find something else to think about. He had no idea what was going on in the sky outside, his communicator had been lost in the impact, and wasn’t sure that there was anything they could do now that they were both grounded, but he figured Tony probably had an idea, he always did.

“As soon as you’re okay for me to leave you, I am going to finish trying to disrupt the signal to the drones,” Tony said. While Bucky slowly tried to relax the muscles that had instinctively tightened up from the pain, Tony went back to grooming his wings to help. “That’s what I was doing when they swarmed me.”

“You should go do that,” Bucky said, shoving down the selfish urge to let Tony keep grooming him. “I’m just going to lay here for a little while, then I’ll cut strips to bind my wings until my shoulders heal.”

“Are you sure?”

Bucky forced himself to nod, and then with a last pat on his secondary coverts Tony stood. “I just need to find this place’s IT closet and I think I’ll have everything I need,” Tony said, and Bucky lifted his head from his arms to watch as Tony disappeared through the maze of cubicles. After a few minutes, Bucky pushed himself to sitting, then to his feet, hissing as the movement jostled his wings. He unfastened the Velcro that held his shirt together along his ribs then pulled it over his head, trying to move his arms as little as possible, then started ripping it into long strips to help support his wings.

“Found it!” Tony crowed just as Bucky had gotten as far along as he could without help. Bucky looked up just in time to see Tony’s steps slow as he came around the corner and saw Bucky shirtless, and the way Tony’s eyes skimmed down his chest before coming back up to his face went a long way towards making Bucky’s day better. “I, uh, I just need five minutes with this router and we’ll be set,” Tony continued, dragging his eyes away to look at the electronics in his arms. He cleared the stuff off a nearby table and took a seat, leaning against the chest support as he started to disassemble everything and start plugging it into his headset, using his wings to brush the bits that he didn’t need out of his way. As Bucky took a seat too and watched, Tony started explaining what he was doing, which Bucky only listened to with half an ear, most of his attention on the sky outside the window to make sure they weren’t ambushed by any drones. He could tell when Tony was successful because suddenly clouds of drones started dropping all across the sky before Tony could even say “That should do it.” Bucky’s mouth quirked as Tony let out a smug ha as he turned to watch the black specks fall all across the city; it would never fail to impress Bucky how Tony could literally go from falling out of the sky to defeating the enemy in the space of twenty minutes. The newspapers had taken to calling him the Invincible Iron Hawk and even though Tony complained about the name Bucky thought the invincible part was spot on. Indomitable would work too, and as far as Bucky was concerned, he’d add irresistible to the list.

“Nice work,” Bucky said, and his face must have been showing more of his thoughts than he meant it to because when Tony met his gaze his face went red and his wings half opened before resettling against his back.

“Thanks,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I’ll bind up your wings, then we’ll hit the elevators and head home?”

“Sure.” Tony was an old hand at binding wings to carry the weight and ease the pressure from the chest and shoulders, making sure the strips went across Bucky’s chest and that it rested under the feathers to keep it from slipping and breaking any. “There,” he said when he was done, patting Bucky’s bare shoulder.

Bucky reached up and put his hand on top of Tony’s before he could pull it away. “Would you like to go flying with me sometime?” he asked before he could talk himself out of it, feeling his face flame. “Flying flying?”

Tony’s grin was rueful. “Flying flying? I don’t know, I think you did some pretty impressive flying to save my life back there,” he teased, but his wings were up and already unfurling, like he was ready to go right now. Bucky’s wings instinctively tried to match him, and the spike of pain made Bucky wince. Tony gave him a sympathetic look and refolded his wings, reaching over to squeeze his hand instead. “Yes, that would be lovely. I will fix my gauntlets, you heal, and then we’ll go flying.”

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: i

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

ao3

word count: ~3k

You serve Hawks a lavender, oat milk latte. Not only is he hooked on your drinks, but he's also hooked on you as well.

a fluffy multi-chaptered piece i’ll release when i’m feeling it :’^) enjoy y’all. coffee shop au hell

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You and Keigo met each other on the coldest, snowiest day of the year.

The temperature was near glacial. The air stung and bit like hell, wind kicking and spitting powdery snow as it fell in sheets from the grey sky.

The weather, horribly, prevented two of your coworkers from working the morning shift at the tea shop. Half of the trains were shut down across the city in addition to power outages. But, your cheap ass owner forced you to open. Alone. In a blizzard.

You were fairly certain that you wouldn’t be getting many customers.

Opening at the tea shop on a normal day was a hellish amount of work. As you unlocked the door and walked into your humble establishment of employment, you grimaced at the thought of all of the work you were to do.

After disrobing from your thick winter jacket, scarf, and mittens and throwing on your apron, it was time to begin. You made yourself a simple, oat milk latte and then started to get to work setting up for the day.

It was hardly dawn.

Keigo was on early morning patrol. It wasn’t his favorite shift, oh, hardly, but he did enjoy watching the sunrise. And, while his wings were powerful, the snowstorm did force him to fly much lower in the grey haze of the day than he normally would. Stepping out of his apartment around just before 5:30 AM, Keigo almost moaned in anguish at the cold. He was infinitely glad he had worn a thermal bodysuit under his uniform.

His quirk afforded him much in terms of battle prowess, in addition to a few avian mutations. Most notably at that moment was his difficulty conserving heat. As Keigo stood on his balcony, frowning at the can of coffee in his hand, he made the prompt decision to fly to his area of patrol and grab a hot drink. The thought of downing something cold made his stomach turn.

Gracefully, Keigo turned and flew, letting himself be carried across town. The area he was patrolling was relatively quiet, mostly small businesses and lower-middle-class apartments. As he touched down, shivering and sleepy, he padded through the empty streets with his wings folded to his back.

The wind was wild, wiping between buildings, making snowdrifts that blocked some of the doors of shops nearby. Part of you cursed, shaking your head. You desperately wanted to be warm, curled in bed with your cats, and watching cartoons.

You set up the shop, moving chairs and turning on machines. Though you were a tea shop, you sold more coffee than any sort. On a normal, fully-staffed day, you’d be in the back, crafting tea blends. But, that day was, in fact, a very abnormal day and it was about to get weirder.

Keigo meandered around the streets, strangely at genuine ease. There were no civilians and very few stores open allowing him to walk freely, albeit coldly. Part of him wondered if he would even find a coffee shop.

But lo and behold, he did.

Keigo opened the door, a cute bell ringing. The shop was themed warmly with yellow-toned wood counters and furnishings. There was a smattering of local art on the walls and jewel-toned accents. All in all, it was a cozy reprieve from the icy nature of outside. Keigo relished the heat.

It seemed only one person was working, you.

When you heard the bell sounding at the entrance of a customer, you piped up from behind the counter, “Just one sec!”

A kind laugh, “Take your time.”

You were struggling to reach a tea blend. It was high on the many shelves behind the counter. You clamored on top of the counter, rising on your knees to try and reach it. Your hands stretched to grip it with an arch of your back. You grinned in victory as you managed to grab it. You pulled back, miscalculating in your pride—

And then you were losing balance.

And then you were falling.

(How fucking cliche).

You would’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t for some unknown force, pushing you back onto the counter, steadying you. The sensation, new, perked you up, causing you to let out a high noise of surprise. You turned, your eyes going wide.

Several beautiful, scarlet feathers caught your fall.

Your eyes flickered up to your patron savior.

Number two hero, Hawks, smiling at you and giving you a bit of cheshire grin, stifling a laugh.

You slowly descended from the counter, turning to face him at the register, “Well, I really have to say thank you. I nearly ate shit there.”

“All in a day's work,” Hawks winked at you. You beamed easily. Local heroes came and drank at the shop fairly regularly, but never anyone particularly famous, let alone the top ten. Never the incredibly stunning, wind-whipped bachelor hero that was Hawks.

“What can I get for you today?” You asked, going for a notepad.

Hawks eyes scanned the menu behind you. He hummed, pretty, amber eyes settling back on you, “Surprise me.”

Your eyes widened, but you nodded. You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Alright, let me ask a few questions, just to make your drink the best it can.” You told him. “First off, hot or iced?”

“Oh, definitely hot,” Hawks almost wiggled a feathered eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes.

“Okay, how much caffeine? Any allergies?” You asked, scribbling an idea down on the notepad. “Milk preference?”

“As much as you can legally supply me with, no preferred milk, and no allergies. Though, I do like things sweet,” Hawks was removing his gloves as he spoke. “Go crazy, give me the best thing you got, angel. Something that gives me the warm and fuzzies.”

Oh, that was a move.

Hawks was notoriously (in the media) shamelessly flirtatious with fans and other heroes. It was always painted as something that was in good fun, never sexual, and just part of his brand. This was just common knowledge, but god you never expected it to be directed at you with a cute pet name.

“On it,” You smiled back at him, face hot. You smoothed yourself down before beginning to craft his drink.

It wasn’t often that you worked the front counter, and there was a good reason for it. Most of the time, you got too into making drinks, customizing them frivolously (often due to your quirk). Though you were skilled, it took a lot of time that people didn’t have for a coffee run.

But, on the day of a momentous snowstorm, you and Hawks had all the time in the world.

Keigo was a bit stunned by you.

You were cute, one.

You were wearing a soft-looking turtleneck sweater, and high-waisted, wide-leg pants. They were fashionable but obviously aged. But it worked. A cute, embroidered apron was tied over you snuggly around your waist. It was adorned with buttons and pins, brightly colored.

You spoke so frankly to him. You didn’t gawk at him for even a second, even when his feathers propped you up from falling. You blushed at his pet name but didn’t seem any more fazed than a bit of embarrassment. He liked it. It felt normal.

Keigo rested his hands on the counter, watching you flit about behind the counter.

“I gotta ask, why are you open in this blizzard??” Keigo tilted his head as your gaze flickered to him. You were still smiling, just a bit, even hard at work.

You snorted, “Cheap boss who won’t close, and my coworkers are stranded without the trains running. I live close by and work hourly, so I might as well come in, ya’ know?”

Hawks laughed, something warm and full, so juxtaposed to the storm of flurries outside.

It was odd, talking to the number two fucking hero so casually, but it felt good. There was a sense of awe and idleness, but it dimmed. There were no flashy heroics, just one person wanting a drink and the other making it.

Your quirk activated on its own as you stared at the syrups. Your quirk’s tell was so small and normal, no one ever caught it. A heavy dilation of the eyes was not something most people were tuned into. Yet there you were, submerged in sensation. Touch, sight, smell, taste, even sound, all blending together. They elicited something deeper in you, creating something abstract you could make tangible.

To make a feeling into a physical reality was a gift, but it came with drawbacks of course.

You poured a few syrups into the bottom of the cup, carefully selecting them.

“I can’t imagine how cold it is up in the sky,” You mused to yourself just before steaming some oat milk.

“Oh, you have no idea, ” Hawks lamented to you with a groan. “I feel like I’m gonna lose a few toes whenever I work in this weather.”

“Just toes? I’d be worried about a whole foot,” You grinned back at him as you poured more things into the cup, stirring every few moments.

The feeling in your mind was so tangible to you, and you could perfectly translate it to reality. Something warm, to beat away the frost of the world beyond the tea shop.

You sprinkled the top with a few dashes of cinnamon, setting it on the counter in front of him.

Keigo looked down at the drink you made him, raising an eyebrow. He went to take a sip, but you stopped him, “I’d give that a few minutes if you don’t want to burn your tongue, tailfeathers.”

Hawks nearly fucking squawked as he set down the drink, giving you a look of false anger, “ Tailfeathers? That’s not a kind name to call me. I don’t even have those.”

Keigo huffed, pouting at you.

“You call me, a stranger barista, angel, I call you tailfeathers. Easy trade.” You shrugged at him, tapping into the register system. “I’m not charging you until you try it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to upcharge if I don’t like it?” Hawks continued to pout, jokingly so, pulling out a wad of bills that was undoubtedly much more than any drink would cost.

Your eyes widened, leaving you sputtering, “Oh, never— it’s on the house if it bangs as much as I think it will.”

Hawks laughed, out loud, bending back a bit. You watched his pretty red wings shudder and reflect the warm light of the coffee house. Keigo collected himself, over-dramatically straightening himself.

You watched with anticipation as he took his sip.

Keigo was a man of poor taste. Sure, dropping an unholy amount of money on frivolities was one of his small pleasures, after so much of the ascetic bullshit that the Commission put him through, it only seemed fair. But, caffeine was a necessity with his fucked up schedule and he’d be damned waiting in a line or making it at home. Canned coffee was saccharine and speedy and that’s all he fucking wanted.

But, when the first drops of that stupid oat milk latte hit his tongue, Keigo was beyond enamored.

Yeah, he wanted coffee to feel warm in this storm, but he didn’t expect to feel warm. With just one gulp, he could feel the heat, like the flames of a steady hearth, drift around his body.

He brought the cup down from his lips, looking at you with awe.

You had the smuggest grin spread across your face, arms crossed over your chest.

“Thoughts?” God, you were so cheeky. He loved it. You were so subtly bold.

“This,” Keigo took another greedy swig, wiping his mouth on the back of his ungloved hand, “is the best coffee I’ve ever had in my damn life.”

Your smile just got wider.

“Glad I could meet your tastes, tailfeathers. No charge,” You gave him a cheeky little wink. You swore you saw his face get redder, but you dismissed it a moment later.

“Oh no, nu-uh,” Keigo pushed the bills towards you. “Take it as a tip then. Seriously. How did you make this?”

You stared down at the bills and Hawks’s hand. His hands weren’t particularly large, but they were scarred plenty. Veins and bone were accented by the dryness of his skin.

You looked back up at him, still not taking the money, “Can you keep a secret? It’s a big one, especially considering you’re a hero.”

Hawks tilted his head, “If you say you used your quirk to mess with this drink, I don’t know if I’m legally able to keep it a secret.”

“Nah, nah. I didn’t ‘mess with your drink’,” You shook your head, nodding down to it. “Do you know what synesthesia is?”

(He did, surely. But he just wanted to listen to you talk more.)

“Enlighten me?” Hawks ask, stooping to rest his elbows on the counter, chin cradled in his hands.

For being a man who could kill you in a split second, Hawks was remarkably cute. You understood his sex appeal long before he entered the shop. His hair looked unnaturally fluffy, wind-ruffled, and honey blonde. His eyes had a few cute bird-like markings ringing the sweet, amber irises. He had a delicate but defined jaw.

He raised a sculpted, feathered eyebrow at you.

(He’d caught you staring).

You cleared your throat, laughing it off easily (though you were mentally kicking yourself), “Synesthesia, broadly, is like senses overlapping in your brain. Like... The common example is seeing colors when you hear a month of the year.”

“Now, what does this have to do with my lovely drink?” Hawks batted his eyelashes at you. You could tell he was definitely flirting with you, but you brushed it off the best you could.

He’s a hot guy you made coffee for. Happens all the time.

“Well, you had me a little bit, I did use my quirk, but it doesn’t mess with your drink physically at all. Not even close,” You laugh. “My quirk allows me to conceptualize abstract ideas into tangible ideas.”

“That really makes it sound like you used your quirk to make my drink,” Keigo watched your eyes dilate as he spoke.

You blinked, and they went back to normal.

“No, no. It’s like for your drink,” Both of your eyes looked towards the steaming cup. “I took your request for ‘warm and fuzzies’ to heart.”

Keigo blinked at you.

Your pupils expanded again, “I figured ‘ you know, this guy has to fly around in the cold all day, right? Probably is freezing and far away from home ’— and there was my inspiration.

“I used my quirk to conceptualize... the idea of being warm and safe into a tangible concept. A nice, easy coffee drink. Four shots of espresso, oat milk, homemade lavender honey syrup, two of my own, specially made tea extracts, and a bit of cinnamon for good measure.”

Hawks blinked at you, “Your quirk gives you the... blueprints, to turn ideas, literal feelings, into reality and these blueprints just work?”

You nodded and shrugged, “Most of the time. The less I’m focused on it, the more likely it is that the feeling won’t be able to manifest. I just get more exact with my construction with the fewer stimuli.”

“Drawback?” Hawks quirked an eyebrow, already having a good idea as to it.

You gestured lazily to the empty coffee shop, “I get overstimulated easily, quirk activated or not. Makes a lot of shit hard, but I like my quirk. I mean, it’s nothing like having a crazy strong pair of wings, but it services me well.”

“Did you really ‘manifest’ ‘warm and fuzzies’ into a drink, or did you make it a bit deeper than that?” Keigo sipped again, relishing how it warmed him all over once more. The taste that was dancing over his palette seemed a little more complex than what they were saying.

“To be frank and to have a bit of an ego, yeah, I went for my go-to feeling when making drinks for myself,” You averted your eyes from him. “A good drink should feel like you’re getting hugged from the inside out, you know? Comforted. It’s hard enough to get that tangibly without a quirk. I just try to help where I can.”

Keigo blinked at you.

You had turned suddenly, shy, eyes anxiously darting and a hand tugging at the sleeve of your sweater. A cute flush was spreading over your cheekbones when you finally looked at him again, “Kinda corny, right?”

Despite the fact that Keigo’s heart was fucking pounding, he shook his head, voice steady and sure, “Nah, I think it’s cool. You’re doing a lot more than just making coffee for folks.”

Your face got even redder as you rubbed the back of your head,

“I usually work in the back, so I don’t tend to make a lot of coffee for people. I make the tea blends that we sell. I don’t always use my quirk, but sometimes I do.”

Keigo watched you nervously pull at your apron, giving him an oddly desperate deadpan, “Please don’t turn me in.”

That made Keigo bust out laughing again.

You couldn’t help but stare at him in shock, and then join him. You covered your mouth at first, but finally, just let yourself laugh with him. All it seemed like that there was in the world was you, Keigo, the lavender latte, and the snowdrifts outside.

Hawks’s pager beeped, almost instantly pulling him from his laughing fit. He glanced at it, giving a dull grimace, “Duty calls, it seems.”

“You’d think villains would take snow days?” You told him as he re-gloved his hands.

“It would really make my job easier,” He chuckled. Hawks pushed the forgotten money on the counter. “That’s all for you, ya hear me? Keep it or I will actually turn you in.”

Oh, you were feeling bold.

Before Hawks could pull his hand away, you placed your own on his, stopping his movement.

“Only,” You somehow, one-handed, managed to pull a bit of receipt paper from its machine. Still one-handed you grabbed a pen and scribbled onto the paper. You pushed it towards Keigo. “If you take this very conveniently small piece of paper that totally doesn’t have my name and number on it. Just in case you’d like another lavender latte like that.”

Oh, Keigo was floored.

He had rapid fucking fans. They were feral. He’d had fans drop their entire life stories on him, gush to him, stalk him— one time, a fan dropped to their knees and licked his boots. And he’d certainly received many phone numbers in his day, so many, but never like this.

This felt a little different.

“Well, I was gonna say, I might need some contact to know when you work next. Just so I can grab one of your lovely drinks,” Hawks winked at you, all smitten. He walked backwards towards the door, still meeting your eyes

“Feel free to.” You were just as starry-eyed as he was. “I have a lot to show you!”

And with that, Hawks whisked himself out of the door, fast as ever.

And you both simmered, full of intangible feelings.

#salem writes #takami keigo x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #keigo takami x y/n #reader insert #mha x reader #my hero x reader #mha smut #hawks reader insert #my hero academia #bnha x reader #takami x reader #mha lemon

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ceilingfan5 · 3 years

Note

34 or 44 for taakitz?? 👀 for the writing prompts

34--spin the bottle

“I’ve literally never seen or heard of someone playing spin the bottle in real life, Merle. It fuckin’ sounds like something from a Mono prevention commercial or an after school special. Are you serious?” Taako sips at his drink and makes a face.

“Fuck yeah I’m serious!” Merle laughs. “Spin the Bottle is a tradition! It’s like, like Seven Minutes in Heaven!”

“Also fakety fake teenage bullshit, go on.”

“You’re just bitter because you’ve never gotten kissed at a party.”

“I, listen, I don’t know why I’m defending myself here, but I super, super have? You’re just constructing intricate rituals to-”

“I’m offering you the chance to join my intricate rituals and decide where in the circle to sit,” Merle says, winking unsubtly. Taako would protest further, but who should descend into the unfinished basement hell they’ve taken over like a swarm of collegiate parasites but Kravitz fucking McAllister, object of Taako’s affections. Merle elbows him in the side. Taako wishes he was drunker.

“Fine,” his mouth says without him. He slams back his drink and goes to get another one. “Get it started. But I am not, Merle. Merle. Listen to me, Merle. I am not sitting across from you.”

“Coward!” Merle calls, laughing. Taako knows he’s at least sixty percent aware of what all is going on here, and he isn’t quite sure how far to trust him. But if they are going to sit on the sticky cement floor like they’re playing duck duck goose, Taako’s going to get something out of it, or die trying. Considering how shitty the beer is, maybe dying is more on the table than anyone ought to sneeze at.

Maybe duck duck goose would be easier.

Somehow, god knows how, Merle gets at least a dozen idiots into the game, including, to Taako’s absolute disbelief, Kravitz himself. He’s beautiful as ever, wearing something entirely too formal for a basement drinking party, and Taako aches to look at him.

“Hey,” he calls across the circle, trying to be sneaky about sitting directly opposite of him. “Haven’t seen you at the tutoring center this semester. You pass that class?”

“With your help,” Kravitz says, smiling. “I didn’t think it was possible. Actually, it wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

“What can I say,” Taako crows, preening a little. “I do my job once in a while.” Too fucking good, apparently. Is he ever going to have an excuse to see Kravitz again?

The game gets going as the music thrums from upstairs. The bottle spins and Sloane has to kiss Hurley, which involves a whole lot of giggling. Taako rolls his eyes. He wishes they would hurry up and just date each other. Then he goes back to making googoo eyes at Kravitz.

Magnus realizes what kind of game it is and dips. Avi argues about the rules with Merle, and tries to wheedle that the person who spins it gets to kiss whoever it lands on, not the person across from them, which Carey, who ended up across from him when Magnus split, is quick to jump in on. Merle grumps and holds his ground, because he’s incredibly invested in this stupid game, and Taako gets bored and starts trying to blow jingle bells on his nearly-empty beer bottle.

The bottle spins again. Carey and Avi switched places, so Avi gets to kiss Johann, which is wild to watch. Taako didn’t even realize Johann was at the party. The bottle spins again while Taako’s trying to think of another song with only one note, and suddenly everyone is looking at him.

“What,” he says.

“Err,” Kravitz starts. “I believe the bottle is pointing at you and me.”

Taako loses all the air in his cheeks. His bottle makes a very pathetic sound. “Oh.”

Kravitz hesitantly stands. Taako follows suit, and he crosses the circle, definitely kicking the stupid bottle on his way. This dumb game has served its purpose now.

“Maybe, uh, maybe just a quick peck?” Kravitz tries. He rubs his hands on his pants, looking sweaty in his nice outfit.

“Sure,” Taako says lazily, like he isn’t fucking dying to suck on this dude’s tongue. “You start.”

“Keep hesitating and you’re gonna have to-”

“Merle, I will kill you with my laser beams.”

Kravitz smiles slightly. And he leans in. He glances around at the others, looking even more nervous as the clock ticks on.

“Are you sure-”

Taako kisses him. He simply doesn’t have the patience to waffle any longer. And sure, he tastes like the shitty cheap party beer just like Taako does, but kissing him is absolutely incredible. Taako never really got the whole fireworks thing before now, but now he’s ready to start a fuckin’ forest fire up in here. He pulls Kravitz closer, and Kravitz looks a little startled, but instead of pulling away, he kisses him deeper, and Killian wolf-whistles. Taako flips her off, and closes his eyes and leans into the sensation of getting his breath stolen away by the hottest guy he knows.

His lungs are full of stars, and they’re all going supernova in his chest.

He finally pulls away to breathe, and opens his eyes, and Kravitz looks so stunned and heart-eyed that Taako has to laugh.

“You, uh, you good?”

“Super,” Kravitz manages. “Do- do you want to keep playing, or, or, or-”

“Or what?”

“Find a different place to be?”

“Yeah, fuck this duck circle, I’m out. If I haven’t changed my relationship status by the time this party’s over-”

“I hope you’re too busy to be on your phone.” Kravitz smiles at him. Taako blushes hard, he can’t help it.

“You’re fucking welcome,” Merle calls after them as they head upstairs, hand in hand. “Now, who wants to play duck duck goose?”

#taz #taakitz #taz b #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #thank you!!!!#this is cheesy #long post #alcohol #alcohol cw

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mxnrly · 3 years

Text

the red house, changkyun

⠀

slight nsfw, thriller !

I wrote this like a year ago, when this song came out and I fell in love with the mv and the lyrics. If you want to see what the song is, here it is. Either way, I'm editing this at 2 am because I felt the need of posting it. I originally wrote this in spanish and it really took me a while sjdjs I hope you like it tho!

tw: not too explicit nsfw, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamic (both are switches, y’all see), pet name, mentions of blood.

wc: 6.8k

⠀

An idiot.

That's what I liked to call the kid who lived across the street. An undoubtedly attractive boy. Gorgeous and with a sensual aura like no other. He had an attractive look, and his presence was always full of mystery. He looked like a demon brought from hell, always wearing those dark denim pants that stuck to his legs, a white long-sleeved shirt and a leather jacket set with the logo of a serpent crossed with two swords.

His hair was always messy, because it was straight and he used to run his hand through it at all times. Not that I was constantly looking at him but, it was a twitch I had gotten used to seeing since I had known him.

The boy had been my neighbor for two years now, and every Saturday it was the same, he would leave the house and not come back until the next day. Whenever I told my best friend about him leaving, he told me to just stay away from him, that if I really wanted to keep his trust I should just forget about that boy and move on with my life. But, it was so easy to say or think about it, but not do it. Somehow, being neighbors was making my life difficult because now it seemed that my walls wanted to know about him too and they were getting thinner so that I could hear from when he was leaving until when he arrived.

My best friend's older brother, Jooheon, was the neighbor's best friend. I knew this because I had already seen him in front of the boy's door with his car, a black '69 GTO convertible and a beer in his hand. The two of them got along great because every day since I lived there, they always went out at the same time, no matter what.

That night I was partying with my best friend and a girl with whom I had started to form a friendship because she was in the art department, although she was just a year younger than us.

“You're crazy if you think we're going to let you go.” And there I was, another Saturday night wanting to go wherever my neighbors were.

“I see you've been very interested in him for a long time, what do you think they are doing?” asked the girl while Jooheon and the idiot went inside their house.

“I really don't know, but since he came to this place I want-”

“You want nothing, God, stop making her get any ideas." scolded the boy to the other girl.

The room suddenly became silent, and then somehow, I started to feel my throat and stomach warm. “I don't understand why you don't want me to go.”

“We've talked about this a million times. I'm just protecting you.”

“But from what? I won't know if you don't let me come closer.” My voice was getting louder and louder until it exploded. “You won't let me get close but I know you're as curious as I am, Jooheon is your brother!”

“Jooheon comes back every morning smelling of alcohol and cheap women's perfume. There are always cigarettes in his car and I've found underwear in the glove compartment, do you really want to continue with that curiosity? I don't know exactly what those two do but, believe me, they don't go to a lake to drink and have fun, they have their plans, do strange things and then come back as if nothing had happened.”

“Didn't you try to tell your mother?" asked the younger girl, suddenly causing the boy to deny instantly.

“One of the rules Heon gave me was that I had to keep silence, first of all if, I wanted to continue living with him. Until I'm legal, I can't buy an apartment on my own." he said with a shrug.

Silence reigned again somehow. There was only the faint music of an American artist whom we did not really know.

Staying out until the morning, I can hear the door.

I can smell all the whiskey and the smoke on your breath.

A chill ran down my back and I sighed. “I'm sleepy guys, the day was really exhausting from the beginning and we have a test on Monday so I want to take tomorrow off at dawn to study." I said faster than I planned.

Because tonight, sleep was the last thing in my plans.

Once they had left my house, I went to my room to change my clothes. I put on something comfortable to keep up with them. With my shoes on, I left my house taking my car keys. The boys were leaving the house so I had to hide quickly behind the vehicle. I felt the heaviness in my chest from doing something against my morals.

The sound of the GTO engine took me out of my thoughts. They came quietly out of the parking lot, giving me time to get into my car and start it. My heart started pounding but I stayed focused and started following the boys' car with some distance. They were getting further and further away from the circle of places I knew, but my curiosity seemed to dominate at this point over reason. I knew that was a bad sign, but I had gone far enough to take it back.

The car quickly drove off the road into some black buildings. Now, I knew that if I followed them in there I would look very obvious, so I drove past the place and saw that there was no way out. They were parked in front of a wall that was purple because of the neon light up there. Debating whether to go or not, I finally turned off the vehicle and started getting out of it.

I walked to the large green door which was lit by the purple light, noticing that, from the wall, a strange vibration could be felt. Music. That's all it could be.

I opened the door and instantly smelled the stench of nicotine and liquor. There was a certain mixture of lotions and perfumes that made everything more intense. The door closed behind me, making me shudder. Hell, I wanted to go home.

Resigned, I began to walk around the place watching my feet because there seemed to be unevenness everywhere. The place was painted red, although it was because of the coloured lights on the sides of different walls. Red was the only thing you saw, everything was tinted and it seemed to be a much scarier place than it really was.

I took the first glass I saw, smelling the strong smell of tequila and mint. I grimaced a little and took a sip, as I put it back in its place again. I couldn't see the boys anywhere and that was starting to scare me. What if they were somewhere else and had deceived me?

I was overthinking the situation, when I felt a strong pull on my arm. Someone had taken me in a very firm manner. Before I could protest, the person who had alienated me showed his face.

And I saw him. I was dazed at seeing his face tinted by the red lights.

“I told you not to come, why don't you ever listen to me?” my best friend, the one who always prohibited me to come to where his brother was, asked almost above the level of the music. My mind was beginning to wander, but I held on.

“What do you mean, don't come? You had told me that you had no idea what they were doing, and now it turns out that you are one of them?”

The boy rubbed his face lightly and took me by the shoulders. “You're crazy, they're going to kill you. Get out of here, now.”

That made my world stop. Kill?

“What are you saying?” But before he could even answer, the light went out making the music go away, causing all the people to scream. Several people beside me ran past, knocking me to the ground, and I feared the worst.

I squatted in fear without really knowing what to do, when I suddenly stopped and hit someone running in my direction. I felt a camera flash in my face and my stomach turned over. The flash went off leaving me stunned. The person took my hand and started running towards what appeared to be the other side of the room, opposite the direction of where the exit door was. Suddenly the screaming stopped and the door lock was heard being set. My legs shook and I swallowed hard. I didn't know anything about self-defense, so I thought about the only thing I was supposed to protect myself and that was my car keys. I grabbed, with each key I had between my fingers, making a fist with spikes in case this person got too far.

Then the light came, but not the artificial light. A natural light. A candle.

I looked at the back of the person who had lit the device, noticing a snake on his back. Oh God.

“You're lucky I brought you this far. People usually die in the state you were in, not to mention that it's your first time in the red house.”

My mind was spinning. Death? Red house?

“I'm sorry, I…”

“I know you don't understand anything, you don't have to worry, (Y/N). Things are simple…”

“Wait wait, how do you know my name?”

The boy smiled, but only because he didn't answer my question. “I am Changkyun, so we are even.”

A small silence formed. There were hasty footsteps on the other side of the door and desperate hands trying to find a room, I supposed.

“Quiet," he said, "no one is going to come in, but they can’t know that we’re here.”

“So, are you going to explain to me what this is all about?” I asked, anxiety in my voice.

“Listen, this place isn't for people like you," he said with a dark look in his eye. “Every Saturday there is a massive party where people come to play something like hide and seek," he said with a touch of mockery, but there was more to his voice than that. “There are people who are the "seekers", those who look for people to catch them, when the lights go out, people have ten minutes to run and hide without being able to leave the place, and when those ten minutes are over…”

A loud noise that made the whole building rumble was heard loud and clear. Changkyun smiled and looked at me. “It is time to play.”

The boy reached inside his jacket and looked at me before taking the goatee. “Don't leave here until I come back for you. Don't open the door for anyone, understand?”

My nod did not reach his eyes for he had already left the room and locked it again before closing the door behind him. I turned around to look around, finding a couch that looked warm, a rug in the middle of the room, and a mini-bar. I didn't want to wonder what the room was for because there were other strange surfaces.

I sighed as I sat on the couch with the candle in my hand. The idiot was into this kind of game, but I still didn't understand enough, what did he mean when he said it was time to play? The idea that this was a deadly game haunted me, but it couldn't be that murky. I unconsciously denied it by huddling more in my place. A few screams were heard outside the room, causing me to shiver. Good Lord, what was all that about?

I couldn't just stand here, what if I'd just been set up? Yes! That had to be it.

I approached the door slowly, removing the latch and preparing to leave when I felt the door open from the outside. It was Changkyun rushing in, panting without facing me. I looked at his back with curiosity, without blowing out the candle, he turned to see me. I could see the drops of what appeared to be blood on his shirt and face.

My body froze.

"Run"

My movements went faster than I thought trying to go around him to escape through the door that was still open, however a gust of wind hit my face when I noticed the door closing with twice the speed I was going. I closed my eyes in fear and lowered my head. Was I really going to die now?

“Raise your head, we must get out of here," he said, puzzling me.

“Aren’t you gonna kill me?” I asked, but he didn't answer. He walked past me and opened the only window in the room wide, tore the spring and squatted on the frame. And out of nowhere, I lost sight of him.

I screamed as I saw him fall. Rushing to the frame, I saw him standing in the grass on that side of the place. I wondered how come we were on the second floor if, in my memory, I hadn't walked up the stairs.

“Jump!” He shouted from below, showing his arms in front of him.

“You're crazy!” I shouted in annoyance looking behind me. There was no way he could make me jump.

“They're going to kill you. Come here.”

“How do I know you won't kill me?” I asked, scared, my throat tightening. I looked at the free fall I would have and felt the air get stuck in my chest.

”We'll go home, I promise, I'll tell you everything, but please come with me," he begged, and it was the first time I'd seen him this worried. He always used to look relaxed and without any worry in him, but the reality just now was different.

My shoulders fell in place. I would die anyway. The screams kept coming from the door, when it suddenly opened. The latch had never been set and now it was just me and death. I looked over my shoulder, noticing a figure approaching.

“Please!" was the last thing I heard before I fell freely through the door frame.

And everything went black.

A severe headache was constantly poking at my head. The back of my eyes hurt, as if I had been looking at the artificial light for a long time. I was cold and somehow I could think it was midnight. Hearing noise in the distance, I sat down where I had been lying. It was my living room, but there was someone else. My heartbeat quickly started to increase when I remembered a little of what had happened.

“You woke up. Here, I made you some tea, but I'm not good at anything that has to do with cooking so I don't think it tastes like anything," said the idiot, suddenly appearing with a half smile, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort.

I tasted it and indeed, it tasted like nothing but bitter water, but I didn't tell him. I just took a deep breath and looked at it. He was looking at me so intently that I almost forgot what had happened. The stains on his shirt gave him away and he wasn't wearing his jacket.

“What happened," I asked, holding the cup in both hands so that he could give me some warmth. Changkyun sighed and sat down beside me. “You fainted, I think from the fright and the mixed emotions. I had no car, so I went through your pockets and found your keys and brought us home.”

Listening at his statement, I took a look outside my house seeing the car perfectly parked in the driveway. “Did you put your hands in my pants?” I asked with a scowl.

The boy instantly raised his hands in fright. “No, the keys were in your sweatshirt," he said, clearing his throat after that. “I'm sorry you were there, you really can't go back…”

“I want to know everything about that place, though…” Changkyun looked at me with doubt, and I put the cup down on the small coffee table. “You said you would explain everything if I threw myself out of the window, and here we are so start talking.”

“Well,” he was a bit quiet after that, as if trying to find the right words. “every Saturday there's a massive party at that place. Everyone knows about that party because of its high class alcohol and good vibes, but everything has its price. When it's eleven o'clock, the lights go out and people have to hide, of course, the ones who know what the game is about, the ones who don't, just run around senselessly. You have ten minutes to hide wherever you want in the house and when those ten minutes are up, the seekers come out to have some fun. What we call, "the wolf." Have you ever heard the nursery rhyme of, "We'll play in the forest while the wolf is away? Well, that's what it's about. They go out at ten past eleven to kill anyone they can get their hands on, lights out. When another ten minutes go by, the lights come back on and the party's over.”

My surprised face seemed to alarm him as he got nervous and looked down. “Once you enter the red house parties, you can't stop attending, because after that day, they know all about you and will do his best to see you die. The red house is a secret, no one should tell the police, and there has to be a winner. One that's left alive among all of us…”

“Then you and Jooheon…”

“Yes, he and I went into those parties three years ago, but after the first one we were as scared as anyone else. We left intact and tried to just forget about it and move on with our lives, but the seekers were smarter. They started sending us letters threatening to come back or kill anyone we came in contact with. We tried to move but nothing worked, so... We had no choice but to play the game.”

“But why are you the one who's full of blood? I could bet you're carrying a knife in your jacket right now.” I accused him, staring at his stained shirt.

“I'm carrying a knife because we've formed a clan. We're seven people from different places and ages who are willing to kill the seekers to end this nonsense, but... They have lots of henchmen, too, and every Saturday it seems to get harder.”

I looked at the clock on the wall in front of us striking twelve in the morning. I felt somehow agitated and helpless. “Jooheon’s little brother told me that you were beginning to be interested in going to the parties, but he never let you because we knew what you would be exposed to. He is an ally, not a member of the clan, but because of Jooheon he ended up in trouble. You were really warned, you have to run away, or dig a hole and stay there…’

‘What if I fight with you?’ I said but I felt I should have kept quiet. His gaze became darker as his breathing became heavier.

“I would never let you expose yourself to that, you are crazy.” His tone was so authoritative that I did not know whether I wanted to challenge him or obey his order.

“Listen, you said that somehow the seekers know who you are. Before I jumped out the window a man saw me, they know who I am already... I might as well die so let me fight for my life.”

“I can't let those bastards hurt you.” his voice seemed to get deeper as time went by. “I won't let them touch a single strand of your hair.”.

His attitude took me by surprise. “Changkyun…” I tried to negotiate with him, come to an agreement.

My voice was interrupted as I was whipped on my back, with both of his hands around my wrists pinching any possible movement. I had him so close, God. He smelled of pure masculinity... of heavy, dark perfume mixed with sweat. I inhaled without wanting to look too harassing, but it was impossible to go unnoticed by the boy's eyes, who smiled so charmingly.

“You are not going to die... Not tonight, not ever," he whispered close to my lips. I stuck out my tongue as a reflection and that drew the boy's gaze upon me. His eyes connected with mine, directing them a few milliseconds to my lips and back to my eyes, as if to say let me kiss you.

I inhaled hard again filling my lungs with his scent, starting to feel the weight of his lips on mine. I closed my eyes on contact and I could swear I had tasted an aphrodisiac. The texture was so similar to silk but the depth with which he took me was so mesmerizing that my brain threatened to fade again. I opened my eyes, noticing her eyelashes lying so thinly on his cheeks, which were slightly flushed. His black bangs tickled my eyebrows because of the closeness. Slowly he let go of my wrists, giving me way to touching his shoulders and running my arms around his neck, as I felt his muscles contracting. One of his hands went down to my waist in circles, while the other remained steady on my cheek, not letting its weight fall entirely.

His back muscles tensed and relaxed as my tongue gently traced his lower lip, seeking to deepen the kiss. Changkyun gladly agreed to begin a delightful dance, each taking his time to delve into the other's body. Changkyun pressed his body against mine, causing me to gasp, which separated me from the kiss, causing us to open our eyes to see each other. His lips were tinged with a light and beautiful red, while I happened to notice a glint above his left eye. I reached out with one hand to clear his bangs and found a striking detail on eyebrow. A captivating perching that lit a flame inside me.

I brought him back to my lips and we enjoyed each other's company all night long. Maybe this game thing could be a reason to see each other more often.

I woke up in my room, in a horrible heat. My neck and back were sweating, which made me instantly sick. It was 7:00 in the morning and it was already so damn hot. I took a shower and went into the living room to find Changkyun's body lying on the couch. His jacket was on one of the kitchen chairs, so I went over to check it out. I reached into the first pocket, instantly pulling out the knife I knew he was carrying. It was partially covered in blood. Feeling an electric shock down my spine, I couldn't help but sigh deeply. At any rate, Changkyun was the good guy, right?

I found his cell phone, but I felt his stare on the side of my head. I turned around to see that Changkyun had woken up but not only that, he was looking directly at me.

“Are you looking for something that proves the opposite of what I showed you yesterday?”

“I am.” I said, nodding.

“Damn it, I thought everything was all right," he said in a hoarse voice, snatching his cell phone from me.

I frowned and shrugged. “You always have to be careful.”

That seemed to insult him as he looked at me skeptically. Not giving a second glance at him, I headed to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice. The boy quickly went to the refrigerator to pour himself the same drink. I noticed the smell of last night with more intensity and turned around to see it. He wasn't wearing a shirt.

The liquid froze in my throat making me feel the sudden acidity, causing my body to cough slightly. The image that I had in my kitchen was worthy of admiration but I simply could not stand it at seven in the morning. Changkyun laughed and tapped my back.

“I'm sorry to surprise you, it's just that it's hot," he said as if it were the most normal thing to do. My eyes rolled back in their narcissism and I headed for my living room.

“Don't you want to take a shower?”

The boy moved his eyebrows suggestively. “Do you want to see me all wet and naked?”

My face turned a deep red and I had to refrain from throwing the remaining juice in the glass. “At your house, you idiot.”

“Yes, try to fix your horniness.” He said, taking his clothes. “I'll be back in a minute, princess.”

I fake gagged at the pet name and rolled my eyes. He put his shirt back on and left my house giving me time to breathe. God, couldn't I be in the same place as him for one more minute without thinking about indecent things?

After a few minutes of searching for something to watch on netflix, I settled down on my couch when the doorbell rang.

“It's still open.” I yelled because I assumed it was Kyun, but no one came in. Strange. I got up from my place opening the door, finding Jooheon’s brother.

“Can I come in?" he asked hesitantly. I looked at him in surprise, and without saying anything to him, I moved away from the door to let him in. “I only came to apologize for having lied to you about not knowing anything. I also came to see if you were all right.” His look never connected with mine, which bothered me to some extent. I crossed my arms and looked at him.

“I don't understand why you did it, but I guess it doesn't matter now, it just matters to get out of that silly game.”

“Did Changkyun explain everything to you?” I nodded and cleared my throat.

“Yes, he brought me home.”

He played with his hands and reached into his jacket bag. Taking out a small envelope, he gave it to me. “Don't trust anyone.” He whispered before he left, making me scoff. Yeah right, look who says that.

Once the boy left my house, I took the envelope in both hands and sighed. There was no sign of Changkyun returning from his home, so I tore the white envelope and found a half-wrinkled note with somewhat illegible handwriting, but which clearly said, "Welcome to the game.” with my name in the bottom right corner. There was an extra note that made my heart start beating fast. I was beginning to think that my best friend, if I could still call him that, had more ideas about the game than others might have. I shook my head and sighed, I couldn't do that to Changkyun and Jooheon, they had somehow kept an eye on me all this time.

The doorbell of my house rang, making me shudder, to quickly put the letter in the first drawer I saw. I took three deep breaths and then approached the door. I opened it to find the boy with a purple hoodie and a gray pantsuit. I smiled at him as calmly as possible and invited him in.

Saturday again. I had contacted my best friend several times after that letter. He assured me that he did not know absolutely about its contents but I knew that he was lying to me. Now he would take me to the building, winning over Changkyun whom I had to refuse the offer.

Speaking of Changkyun, we had both had meetings at the other's house, more casual than I would have thought. He rarely went over the line and always used to make the times much more comfortable. We had not reached the stage where we had gone to bed for any purpose other than sleep, and somehow he felt that he was waiting for something.

At ten o'clock, the car parked in front of my house. I was just about to leave when I noticed my best friend coming into my house at a fast pace with a box in his hands. He scanned my body, noticing my red satin dress and my silver heels. He smiled and took my hand.

“I think I have something for you," he said, pulling out a black dress that was supposed to be attached to my body, halfway up my thigh and angel wings of the same color. I looked at him skeptically and he laughed. “Come on, it's part of the deal if you want to come to the party after all, and I know Changkyun will not resist you with this on.”

I took the garment in my hands and took a big breath of air. Would he really?

I didn't think about it anymore. Going to my room and putting on my clothes. A chill ran down my back but I did not let the feeling of fear win over me, just taking a couple of deep breaths before returning to the room where my friend was sitting on the couch with his cell phone in his hands. When he saw me, he smiled broadly and took my hand to walk on my feet. “Damn, you look beautiful. Let’s go now, there’s a boy you must conquer tonight.”

That night I felt that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life but at the same time I thought… Do I really have to do this to come out alive? Could the game end after all?

We entered the building. The walls were moving at the sound of the song playing currently...

My breath got stuck in my throat when I located the boy I was there for. Changkyun saw me with such a penetrating and seductive look. He was wearing leather jeans alongside a short-sleeved satin shirt with different colored patterns, purple, blue, yellow and red. There was a chain on his pants and from his neck fell a necklace of what appeared to be a gold chain. His hair was disheveled, although it had a specific direction and that was his right, raised slightly upwards allowing me to see his forehead and his piercing to perfection. As we connected glances, he smiled openly at me. My throat closed for a moment, leaving me breathless, but I managed to look normal to his scrutinizing gaze.

Apologize, never apologize

You hate the way I lie

So here you go, I'm being honest

“Hey, are you a fallen angel?" he asked, touching his fingertips to the wings tied behind my back. I smiled and denied that question.

“No, I only came to find a demon with which to play tricks in this destroyed world." I said, approaching him tentatively. At my boldness, I noticed how his gaze darkened a little.

“Then it's your lucky day, because I'll be the one to deny you entry to heaven, honey.”

Narcissist, come on, give us a kiss

Let's have some fun with it

It's kinda sweet...

Both of us, with the look of some children with a new toy, starting to head for the same place. It was still early, so the seekers and his henchmen didn't worry us at all. Once inside the room we had been in a week ago, Changkyun locked the door, his back at me. At the sight of his legs inside those leather pants, I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip. Thoughts of impurity began to tingle in my mind, causing my temperature to rise constantly.

Once the boy began to approach me, I felt that I still had a way out and that everything could change at any moment. That I still had time to take it back. But then he planted his lips on mine and all I could think about was "Shit."

The situation was getting deeper and more exciting. It tasted bitter, as if it had tasted blood itself before it kissed me. The slight taste of alcohol flooded my taste buds as his tongue investigated my palate. Our tongues brushed against each other, sending shivers down my spine. Jesus.

His scent was beginning to make me dizzy. Too manly and addictive, it made me want more, like nicotine straight into my bloodstream. I gasped for air, which the boy agreed to do by separating himself from me. In less time than I thought, my back was on the couch in the room, my eyes looking directly into his irises that I could hardly discern from the lack of light, since the only light there was the red LED light that was all over the building. His skin was slightly pinkish. His touch traced my figure in an exquisite manner, making me feel a warm path where he posed his fingertips.

Four in the morning, you're changing the locks

How could you do this to me?

I placed my hands around his neck and brought my lips close to his, nibbling on the soft, tender skin. His moles covered some extremities of his body provoking me to mark each and every one with marks that could become darker for the next morning. He was mine. Changkyun was mine for the night.

I only love you when you don't love me

Oh, baby, so, why do you love me?

His hands pulled the wings off my back in a slow and torturous manner causing the air to get stuck in my lungs with no escape. His lips went to my collarbones making me separate from him. His tongue began to trace the exposed skin smiling on the way. With his hands, he slipped the straps over my shoulders to drag the dress to my lower body. That's when I leaned on the bed with my feet pushing my hips up so he could finish pulling the garment out.

He smiled at the sight and stood on his knees on either side of my waist to remove his shirt. Every button he undoes means one more step towards one of my deepest fantasies. His torso was exposed, with only his chain resting lazily on his torso. His marked abdomen prompted me to run my tongue over it to taste his sweet flesh and be ecstatic about the ragweed.

I sat up on my elbows looking at the belt that clung to his pants, asking permission with my eyes to help him with that task. Changkyun took the hint and laid down beside me, letting out a gasp. I smiled as it dawned on me that we were at the edge of the cliff, but if it was with him, I would give it my all.

I sat on his lap, feeling his bulge against my core. I gasped at the sensation and made my way to unbuckle the black belt with the silver buckle. I removed the garment in two moves and now, I needed to unbutton his pants. I ran my tongue over my lower lip, directing my hands at a slow speed to tempt his patience, which did not seem to last long. The boy raised his hip to me, grunting underneath.

“What's the matter, kitty, do you want me to help you with your torturous pain?" I asked in a voice that was as if in velvet as I squeezed the right places to make him delirious. “Learn how to beg, darling.”

My index finger began to sway over the boy's covered member, which drove him crazy. He looked at me with his lust filled eyes. “Do it. Please.”

He mumbled that last word, more against his will. With a smile, I removed the button from his leather jeans, dragging the cloth down his thighs. Then I stared at his underwear with a hungry look. The boy noticed my glance and with one movement I was at his mercy again under his body.

“Well played, angel, but in this game you must learn who is in charge," his voice so damned hoarse made my body eager with the sound. The boy took off my bra with one hand, looking agitated. My head dropped back quickly at the sensations. My center began to vibrate with the music in the background.

Without being able to wait a second longer, he removed my underwear by tapping the middle finger of his left hand on my bundle of nerves.

“God..." I hissed at the feeling of that digit, groping on forbidden ground.

The boy smiled as he took off his only remaining cloth, positioning himself on me. We looked at each other for a minute. A long minute, where I could read his eyes. Pure, raw lust.

His member was slowly and pleasantly buried inside me. My hip was raised by the reflection, making me take a big breath of air. I was not a virgin but, it had been so long and the sensation was new and delirious.

“Welcome to hell, little angel," he whispered as he began his deep pounds on me. My face broke into pure moaning and unexplained sounds as I enjoyed the sensation produced by her touch.

The moment reached its peak, approaching with a great electric shock that ran from the tips of my feet to the surface of my head. We both came in unison, creating an exquisite harmony to the contrast of his deep voice and mine. Our gasping and gasping breaths spoke for themselves. Our glances spoke what our mouths couldn't. The connection we created in that instant was so strong and powerful that I thought it would fade. The red light around us fell in a minute, leaving us in darkness. The smell of liquor and sex surrounded us without shame.

In the face of that darkness. The boy came out of me causing one last tremor. And that was the sign. I crawled to my clothes strewn over the arms of the sofa, pulling a knife from the wings of my costume.

I'm fucking crazy, you're fucking crazy, we're all fucking crazy;

I held my breath for a minute.

And then, exhaled hard.

I couldn't see anything at all, and that made everything strangely interesting. I gasped away, crawling to the edge of the sofa where the light was slightly off. And then I saw him.

I noticed how his skin glowed with sweat and his eyes darkened. The light coming in from the window helped me to identify his eyes. His torso was still naked but the bottom was on the dark side of the sofa.

“Pity angel, you decided to be seduced by the ideas of living in a world of lies.”

I drew my knife dangerously close to his naked abdomen. His breathing became faster and his heart began to beat erratically. The metal device I held in my hands began to trace his chest slowly, delineating his skin, his outline. The boy looked at me, some kind of mix between horror and pleasure on his features. Happy in how the game had turned out, I took his jaw with my free hand looking directly at him. A smile spread across my face and I instantly noticed the boy's eyes opening wide, looking up at me, like begging for mercy.

I began to apply more pressure on his chest by opening a slight cut. The air got stuck in my throat, forcing me to continue.

“Only then will we set you free. Kill the leader of the snake clan. Kill Changkyun. It's an easy job, don't you think?"

I closed my eyes trying to make the seekers boss' voice disappear from my ears. My jaw clenched tightly as I struggled with my subconscious about the real right decision.

“Please...” his voice came out in a thread of voice as I felt the burning in his chest, but maybe not because of the physical wound but because of the wound in his heart.

“Oh no," I said with a smile, denying in the process. “No. Your glory days are over, kitty.” I took the impulse, and then, to add more drama to the matter, I asked. “Your last words, Changkyun?

Great was my surprise to see him looking much darker than ever before. With a confused look on my part, I heard him say. “Do you know what they say at the end of every game?”

I jumped up and down as I felt his hand grab my wrist. He dropped me on the arm of the sofa using my own hand, now in the opposite direction, showing the edge to me. With a serious and firm look, he approached my ear whispering the words that were about to dictate my death.

“I knew you wouldn’t be brave enough. It’s time to say game over… (Y/N)”

#changkyun #im changkyun #changkyun smut #changkyun thriller #changkyun imagines #changkyun scenarios #changkyun x reader #monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x smut #monsta x imagines #monsta x changkyun

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thatsbucknasty · 3 years

Text

she used to be mine (x) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are closed

chapter 10: I didn’t plan it

Two months pass and I realize it’s only a matter of weeks before I meet my baby girl. I’ve been working hard to save more money but I’m still not even close to the amount I’m gonna need for the birth AND the divorce. It’s been really hard to put my pride aside and accept the help my friends offer, I guess I’m used to being left to my own devices since I was very young. But I love my little family. Bucky and Sam drive me home every night after closing and Wanda has been bringing me gifts for the baby. Nat’s contact will be handling my divorce and she said they would give us a payment plan so that it won’t be so difficult to pay all at once. I still don’t understand how that’s gonna work but I trust her. She’s being very strange though, but Natasha’s one of those people who deal with issues on their own and compartmentalizes everything. Still, I’m worried about her. I guess I can’t judge her, we’re the same in that department.

Old Nick hasn’t been around much lately, says he’s taking care of his health. Guess my pies aren’t the healthiest meal for an eighty-something year old man. Maybe I should start adding more vegetables to my own diet, I’m creating life inside of me after all.

“Hey boys, what can I getcha?” Wanda flirts with Steve at the counter and Bucky laughs, he seems to be getting used to their corny, slightly inappropriate conversations.

“Oh I don’t know, sweetheart. What’s the special pie today?” Steve flirts back at her.

“Well, Y/N made her famous ‘Slutty brownie pie’ today and if you want, I could make it even sluttier-”

“Guys! Not in front of my salad, please!” Sam scolds them and Bucky’s just laughing at Steve’s red cheeks. Wanda rolls her eyes at him and motions Steve to follow her away from the group.

I come out of the kitchen ready to leave and see Steve and Wanda making out in the far corner of the counter, while Bucky and Sam talk about an AC/DC concert they both attended back when they didn’t know each other. Sam’s also taking care of his diet it seems, but Bucky’s stuffing his mouth with my brownie pie. I don’t actually understand how he can eat so much and still look absolutely stunning.

“Guys! Keep it in your pants. It’s movie night, we’re leaving!” I scold them and Steve’s blush has reached his ears and neck at this point.

“Thank you! I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks those two are such horny teenagers”. Sam throws his hands in the air and hangs his apron, ready to go.

“I think they’re adorable, but I’m tired and hungry, and I don’t want any more pie today so let’s go, where’s Nat?” I look around trying to find the redhead.

“She said she needed to be alone tonight but she’ll be at the party tomorrow”. Wanda says and we share the same worried look on our eyes.

“Oh, okay. Shall we?”

We get to Bucky’s apartment and today’s pick is on Steve cause tomorrow’s his birthday. He chooses 1986’s Labyrinth. We order pizza and sushi and enjoy the magical spectacle on the screen.

I can’t stop thinking about my divorce and all the bills that are waiting for me in the future. Raising a child isn’t cheap. Bucky holds my hand at one point, under the blanket that we’re sharing. I guess he senses my worry and tries to make it go away. I’m glad he does. Lately I’ve just been letting myself fall for him because fighting against it it’s a lost cause. He’s the sweetest guy, brings me home safely anytime he’s able to, he cares about my friends and most importantly, he’s patient and doesn’t rush me to do anything I’m not ready to do. His parents raised him right, what’s a girl supposed to do?

Next day is organized chaos, thanks to Wanda and her frantic need for everything to be perfect. She really loves Steve and he’s a good guy. They deserve each other, truly.

Nat’s helping Sam hang decorations around Wanda’s backyard. It’s a mixture of 4th of July colors and Happy Birthday signs. We’re not doing the whole fireworks thing, since Wanda’s birthday present for Steve wouldn’t like the noise. But there’s a flatscreen set up to watch them on tv.

I’m in the kitchen, chopping some tomatoes for a pico de gallo I’m making. Bucky’s setting up the barbecue outside and I can see him from the window. He keeps messing it up and starting again, making the funniest, exasperated faces. I told him Steve could do it in no time but he insisted he’s the birthday boy and should just enjoy this day.

Speaking of Steve, he’s on his way. It ain’t a surprise party but we still wanted to set everything up before he got here.

We’re all enjoying the cool summer breeze, watching football on a projector Wanda set up in the backyard, we have hotdogs and guacamole and chips, the guys have beer which of course I can’t have, but Bucky was kind enough to make me an entire jug of pink lemonade just for me. I’m not really interested in the game, to be honest and my bladder is full so I separate myself from Buck and look around to realize Natasha isn’t here. Since this is not my house and I need to find the restroom I ask Wanda for some help instead and we enter the house together.

She points me to the toilet and I open the door to find Nat and Sam wrapped around each other, half naked.

“OH MY GOD! What’s happening here?!” I immediately cover my eyes and close the door.

“Y/N, you’re okay? What is it? Don’t tell me you found a rat cause I hate them so much, Gosh I told Steve we should’ve done this at my place, is way cleaner”.

“I- I- no- um. It’s not a rat it’s a- um. I’m sorry-”

“Y/N! Let me explain-” Natasha comes out the restroom with her blouse half buttoned up, makeup almost completely ruined.

“I don’t- I don’t need you to expla- can somebody please lead me to another bathroom or something? I’m about to piss myself!”

“Sure, honey, let’s go”. Wanda grabs me, she apparently understands what’s going on, looking at Nat’s disheveled state and brings me upstairs to another room.

“What’s going on? I heard the girls yell”. Bucky enters the house and sees Sam and Nat cornered in the kitchen, looking like they’ve seen a ghost.

“Nothing, man. I think it’s time for me to leave. Say happy birthday to Steve for me”. Sam kisses Nat on the cheek and leaves the house.

“Wha- Natasha, are you okay?” Bucky stands there awkwardly, trying to break the tension.

“I’m fine, but the girls and I need to talk privately. Would you distract Steve for us? He doesn’t need to hear about this. Tell him we’re talking about pregnancy stuff with Y/N or something”.

“Oh-kay? Are you sure you’re alright though, you seem-”

“I’m fine, Bucky. Now go talk to Steve, he’s out there alone on his birthday”.

“Well, he looks fine! He’s watching the Patriots destroy the- Okay got it, see you later”. Bucky awkwardly scurries down to the kitchen and grabs a couple more beers and brings them outside.

“Knock-knock”. Natasha enters Steve’s bedroom and sees Wanda sitting on the bed.

“Hey”.

“Hey. Y/N still peeing?”

“I don’t think so. But I think she’s crying”.

“God she’s always so dramatic”.

“Hey! You should’ve told us! Do you know how worried about you we’ve been? We thought you were sick or something! Not wanting to hang out with us. We were supposed to plan a baby shower for her by now but you’ve been M.I.A.”.

“ I know, and I’m sorry”. Nat sighs and knocks on the bathroom door.

“Y/N, come out. We know you’re done so let’s go. We need to talk”.

I wipe my tears. I don’t know why I feel betrayed. Sam and Nat are my best friends, I should be happy for them. Damn hormones making me cry like a little baby every time something’s out of place.

“Hey”. I sniff and open the door to see Natasha rolling her eyes at me.

“Why the hell are you crying?”

“Oh I’m sorry for being a hormonal mess but seeing two of my best friends, one of them who’s married by the way, making out like horny teenagers would definitely cause me some distress!”

“Uh huh, and how is this any different to you and Bucky holding hands and making eyes at each other every single minute? May I remind you, you’re still married too!”

“Oh my God, Natasha, you did not! I’m getting a divorce, you know that!”

“Yeah, I know. And I understand and not make a fuss about it, until you decide to judge me for the exact same thing you’ve been doing!”

“Why- ah. Sorry, I know I’m looking like a complete hypocrite right now. It’s just- you guys are my friends and you’ve been acting so strange lately, it had me so worried and I feel like I could’ve been there for you, just as much as you’ve been there for me. You guys are my sisters”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But Sam and I wanted to figure out what we wanted first and you know how I am. I fall down the rabbit hole and I keep it to myself cause I’m too proud to admit I’m weak”.

“Natasha, please. You’re anything BUT weak. You’re the one who’s always showing us how strong we really are!” Wanda chimes in and holds both mine and Nat’s hands in hers.

“Okay girls, listen up, from now on we need to make a pact that whenever one of us starts to close off from each other, we will make an intervention for that person and keep ourselves accountable for our shitty ways to cope with men, and life, and money problems, and cleaning obsessions, is that clear?” Nat kisses the top of my head and Wanda laughs at her declaration.

Somehow I feel like everything’s about to change, hopefully for the better.

chapter 11: she used to be mine

#she used to be mine #waitress au #waitress musical #bucky x reader #doctor!Bucky #waitress!reader #avengers au #marvel au #Bucky Barnes #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #quentin beck #Steve Rogers #nina writes

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