#i literally screamed and was like shoving my phone into my mom’s face and she was like yeah yeah he looks nice leave me alone 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cuttingpenisblackmetal · 2 months

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freshly-kicked-out-of-dethklok magnus encounters preklok toki (read on ao3)

Begging someone for something in his second language has done nothing to improve his migraine. In fact, it seems to be making it worse. Nevertheless, he keeps at it; let nobody say that Magnus Hammersmith is not resilient.

“Just let me talk to her,” he mutters to the library payphone, in slow, clunky Norwegian. “Just one talk.”

Not that it’s achieving much. “No, Magnus,” says his uncle on the other line, “She wants nothing to do with you.”

“She’s my fucking mom. She doesn’t get to cut me off, she’s my mom.”

“She’s not cutting you off. Mind your language.”

“It sure sounds like it!”

“This is for the best, Magnus. We won’t enable your lifestyle.”

Pain: it’s been the only constant in his life. His head hurts like someone’s left a knife behind his dead left eye. “My lifestyle?” Magnus echoes. “This is about me being gay?”

“No, Magnus, this is about the drugs.”

“I’m taking them for a medical reason. I have… uh, what’s the word? Head damage. I told you this.”

“We’ve heard your excuses before.”

“I got hit in the head. You want to talk to my doctor?”

“When you’re ready to get sober, we will happily talk to you.” The way his uncle says it is all business. “Until then, I ask that you please leave her alone. You’ve made her suffer enough.”

“I’ve made her suffer? She’s the one who let her piece-of-shit husband beat her kid up! She’s the one who— who--” The words don’t come in Norwegian, so Magnus switches to English, “She’s the one who abandoned me. Fucking sent me to live with that psychopath! She owes me, for all the shit she put me through! Give me her fucking phone number!”

The line goes dead, and suddenly Magnus is just the lunatic who’s been shouting in a public library. He snarls and slams the phone back into its receiver.

You would think, in Tampa, that the sight of a homeless junkie screaming into a payphone wouldn’t arouse so much attention, even if the homeless junkie in question had half the conversation in Norwegian. The librarian at the front desk is eyeing him suspiciously, and the other homeless who’ve come in to escape the humidity are either gawking or looking ashamedly away. A grubby teenager curled up on a couch is staring at him with big wideset eyes.

Magnus’ head hurts; at that moment he hates every single person looking at him. He has a knife in his belt, and he wonders how long it would take someone to stop him if he just started going around stabbing faces. Could he get two in, three, five? He’ll go for the grubby teenager first. That kid’s eyes are very far apart from each other, it’s kind of unsettling.

While lost in his spontaneous violent fantasy, he’s accidentally let himself glower at the grubby teen for a little too long. The little vermin seems to interpret this as an invitation, for suddenly he springs off of the couch and approaches Magnus, wringing his hands fretfully in front of his chest. He would be well-built if he weren’t emaciated; he has to be at least sixteen, but the way he holds himself, and the badly-fitting filthy clothes he wears, make him seem much younger.

And he greets Magnus, unexpectedly, in Norwegian: “You’re from Norway too?”

Magnus has a migraine. It’s like someone’s shoved a wire in one temple and out the other, and his left eye is throbbing softly. The last thing he wants to do is have a conversation in Norwegian, which made his head hurt even before Nathan gave him literal brain damage, and entertaining a pathetic urchin doesn’t seem like much fun, either. So it’s to his own surprise when he answers, also in Norwegian: “I lived in Bergen for a few years.”

The kid has a very wide mouth, and at the answer this breaks into an impossibly broad grin. “Oh, cool!” he says cheerfully. “I’m from Lillehammer.”

“Cool.” Magnus turns away from him.

“I’ve never met another Norwegian here,” says the kid, completely missing the hint. “I heard you speaking Norwegian on the phone. That’s how I knew you’re from Norway also.”

“Mm.”

“I hate my parents too. My mom’s real mean to me.”

“That sucks.” Magnus is already walking towards the door. “Well, I’ve got to go, so.”

“Oh, wait, I’ll come with you!”

The kid disappears from his side. Magnus has almost made it through the door when he reappears, now with a ridiculous-looking blue cap perched on his overlong tangled hair. He appears to be carrying a (homemade?) guitar case on his back.

It’s like being trailed by a stray dog. When Magnus emerges into the hot Tampa morning, the kid is close on his heels, still chattering away in enthusiastic Norwegian:

“I haven’t gotten to talk to anyone in Norwegian since I’ve been here. I learned English before I moved here, but it’s hard. Like, I never know where to put -s on things. And what’s the difference between am and is? Also, what’s faen in English? Also, I can’t write English. The spelling’s hard. So I just write things down in Norwegian.”

Magnus has parked his truck a few blocks away. Because it seems like he’ll only ditch this kid by driving off, he makes a beeline for it.

The kid remains in hot pursuit. “Can you spell things in English?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, wowee. And you can read it?”

“Sure.”

“Wow-wee. You can be my English teacher! You can teach me all the spellings, like how to spell… spaghetti. S-K-F-O-K-K-A-T-T-Y.”

“Spaghetti is Italian.”

“Oh, faen. Really?”

“Really.”

“What about hamburger? Is that also Italian?”

“German.”

“Helvete. Didn’t know that. I love hamburgers. I thought when I came to America I’d have hamburgers for every single meal. Hamburger for breakfast, hamburger for lunch, hamburger for dinner, and then if I want a snack, I can have a hamburger for my snack, too.”

Magnus glances back at the kid, who is, bafflingly, still following him. They’ve walked two blocks more quickly than anyone with a migraine should be expected to and still this guy remains undeterred. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, I’m going to join a band and become a rockstar.” He says this with the complete confidence that only the truly stupid are capable of. He’s even grinning at Magnus, absolutely thrilled by his bright future. “That’s why I moved to America. I can meet the best ever band here, I just know it.”

Magnus’ question had been more along the lines of, why are you following me, but he’s never been good at expressing himself in Norwegian. The answer is so blithely optimistic that it makes him want to retch. He scowls, snarls, and tries walking a little faster.

“I’ve been going to auditions,” the kid continues. “I play the guitar. I’m really good at guitar. I taught myself mostly everything. Except I had a friend back in Lillehammer who taught me lots, too, all about the black metal stuff, but I like death metal more, so that’s why I came to Tampa. Cause this is where all the good death metal bands come from.”

The best damn death metal bands, Magnus wants to correct him. Prime example: Magnus’ death metal band, the one he’s been so recently and ruthlessly exiled from. He scowls at a pawn shop as they walk past it, and catches a glimpse of them in the reflection of the window: he, with his ghoulish dead eye and his old-beyond-its-years smoker’s complexion and the clothes that get dirtier by the day, and a bizarrely cheerful Norwegian kid who looks like he’s only ever slept in dumpsters.

They reach Magnus’ truck then and it can’t come soon enough. “Hey, well, good luck with all of that, man,” Magnus says, switching to English out of convenience. “It’s a good city to be a musician in. Just uh, keep practicing and all that.” He unlocks the truck and climbs into the passenger seat. Finally, solitude—

“I practices all the times!” the kid says in thickly-accented English as he climbs into the passenger seat.

Into the passenger seat.

“Oh,” comes Magnus’ dumb reply.

“Yep, but it’s hard without de amps what to makes the guitar louder.” He’s still grinning, positioning his guitar carefully between his thin legs. “Wowee, you’ve gots the real cool trucks. Why’s it so talls?”

“It’s lifted—” Magnus breaks himself off, and blinks a couple of times. “What the fuck do you want?”

The kid gives him a blank look.

“Seriously, the fuck are you after, here? Food? Drugs? What’s your fucking angle?”

He grins again. “Oh, foods! Okay, we goes gets some foods.”

It’s Magnus turn to stare blankly.

“How’s about hankburgers? Boy, I really loves hankburgers—”

“Fine. Hamburgers. Alright, let’s go.”

It has to be loneliness, Magnus concludes. From his own time in Norway, Magnus understands the sheer relief that comes from meeting someone who speaks your language in a foreign country. Maybe it’s loneliness, too, that compels Magnus to start his truck and start driving in the direction of the nearest Dimmu Burger; though he’s an unwilling participant in this conversation, it’s already the most attention anyone has shown him in months.

At any rate, he doesn’t seem to be escaping it any time soon. “What’s your name?” the kid asks, switching back to Norwegian.

“Magnus.”

“Magnus.” He repeats it with nothing short of reverence. “That’s a cool name. Sounds like what someone who casts magic spells would be called. My name’s Toki.”

“That’s weird. What is that, Icelandic?”

“I’m named after the Viking my family’s descended from.” Toki says this with a bashful smile, as if it’s something he’s used to impress Americans before. Which is funny, because he doesn’t look remotely ‘viking’—appearance-wise, he’s sitting at the intersection between ‘girl’ and ‘Victorian chimney sweep’. “Toki Víg-tönn. That’s ‘Toki Wartooth’ in English, I translated it.”

“And you want to go into death metal? That’s a black metal name.”

“Faen. Should I get a stage name?” Toki seems genuinely concerned by this. “Maybe I should call myself an American name. Like… Tommy?”

“Nah,” Magnus shakes his head. “That’s lame.”

“How about Magnus!”

“How about you just use your own name?”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll keep being Toki, then.”

The conversation comes to a natural, blessed lull, in which Magnus focuses on driving and trying not to crash his car out of migraine-induced inattention. Unfortunately, Toki proves to be irrepressible, because he’s silent for only a few seconds before he starts up again:

“Where are you staying?”

“Here.”

“In the…” Toki turns his head, looking at the shops around them, “In the mattress store?”

“In my truck. I live in my truck.”

“You must get sore legs a lot. You’re really tall.”

“Yep.”

“I bet sleeping in a mattress store would be nice. You’d have so many beds to choose from. I’d sleep on a different mattress every night.”

“Mm.”

“I sleep in a dumpster.”

Magnus glances at him. “I can tell.”

“What does that mean?”

“You smell bad.”

“Oh, fuck you, you smell like a dog that died.” Toki says this rather cheerfully. He turns his head, taking in the interior of the pick-up that’s been Magnus’ home ever since Dethklok kicked him out: empty cigarette packs and dead lighters, a duffel bag full of clothing, a threadbare blankets, and enshrined in the back—

“That’s a guitar!” Toki gasps, pointing to the space in the back. “You play that?”

“Gibson Les Paul,” Magnus says modestly, “Yeah, I’m pretty good.”

“But it’s kind of a lame guitar. It’s like, if a grandpa’s guitar was electric, it’d be that guitar.”

“Come on, kid.”

“You have an amp for it?”

“In the back, yeah.”

“I want to hear you play. Oh, we can jam out together! I’ve got a Flying V.” Toki pats his homemade guitar case proudly. “What do you like to play?”

For a moment, Magnus debates lying and claiming that he’s a jazz guitarist—he’s starting to worry that if he reveals he and Toki share anything in common, he’ll never get rid of the kid. His ego intervenes, however, and he admits: “Death metal.”

If Toki smiled any wider, his jaw would fall off of his slightly misshapen face. “No way! We both play guitars for death metal and we’re from Norway! We’re gonna be best friends!”

Magnus will sooner throw Toki out of a moving car than make him his best friend. He hasn’t spoken Norwegian for this long since he was a teenager, and his head is protesting violently. He leans over and fumbles around the centre console for a non-empty packet of cigarettes.

“Are you in a band?” Toki fills in the silence.

“I’m, uh, between bands.”

“Maybe we can join a band together. I’m going to lots of auditions. You can come with me and we’ll be a guitar duo.” Toki gasps, then, his eyes going wide. “Oh, we can start our own band!”

“I’m taking a break from music.”

“Why?”

Magnus has to hesitate over this one. He finds one carton with a stray cigarette in it, grabs it, and pops it in his mouth.

“Cause I’m…”

He searches for the word in Norwegian, fails to find it, and answers in English instead:

“I’m blacklisted from the scene.”

“What means that?” Toki asks in his clunky English.

“Means nobody wants to work with me.”

“How come?”

Here, again, Magnus hesitates. He has one hand shoved in his pocket, searching for his lighter. He still hasn’t come up with a plausible lie to explain to people why he left Dethklok—and then he realises how ridiculous it is, to worry about what this little parasite will think of him.

“… I stabbed the lead singer of my band.” Magnus finally finds his lighter.

“Wowee,” Toki breathes, “Dat’s brutal.”

“Yeah.” He lights his cigarette, inhales deep. The hit of tobacco does nothing to relieve the headache.

“Why you does it?”

“He called me crazy.”

“You sounds crazy. Stabs a guy just what for callings you crazy.”

This doesn’t sound like admonishment at all, but Magnus shoots Toki a glare regardless. Magnus’ withering scowl cows Toki for all of three seconds; he shrinks back in his seat, looks away, and then immediately brightens up again.

“That just makes you the extra brutals metals guitarists,” Toki says confidently. “You’re like Burzums. If they doesn’t sucks. So how comes dey bla… blaskliskted you?”

“Cause Americans are posers, Toki.”

“What means that?”

“It means they’re fake, man. Pretending.” Magnus takes a long drag of his cigarette, savouring this chance to dwell in his own bitterness. “They wouldn’t know real brutality if it stabbed them in the back.”

Toki blows air through his lips as he considers this, sounding rather like a contented horse. “… They must be real nice, though,” he finally says, in a dreamy voice. “Can’t waits to meet them all and be friends…”

It takes Magnus several seconds to identify the pang of emotion in his chest as pity— he’d initially mistaken it for acid reflux. Toki is annoying, and he has the disposition of a particularly aggressive black mold, but he has something that’s terribly rare in this godforsaken country: he seems nice. There’s a glittery optimism about him, and Magnus doesn’t get the sense that it comes from naivete, the way that Nathan’s closely-guarded softness fatally belies a sheltered upbringing. Toki’s a homeless immigrant who’s obviously seen some shit and yet he’s just... plain goddamn nice. That’s almost worse, somehow. There are bands here that will eat him alive.

They pull off of the street and into a strip mall, where one of the less shady Dimmu Burgers sits like an island among an ocean of potholed concrete. Magnus has all of thirty dollars to his name, which was ostensibly supposed to be used for food, but pain and opioid dependence have robbed him of his already modest appetite, and besides, feeding a starving kid might give him a much-needed karmic boost. He pulls up to the menu board and turns to Toki.

“Alright, kid,” he says, in English, “What do you want?”

Toki’s staring at the board with wide eyes, and there’s colour rising to his face, a bit of sweat beading on his brow. He blinks several times, then stammers, “Um.”

Still smoking his cigarette, Magnus waits for several seconds, watching as Toki stares at the board and grows gradually redder, like a ripening tomato.

“Um,” Toki finally says again, voice small, and switches to Norwegian: “Magnus? I can’t read it.”

“Ah.”

“Can you tell me what it says?”

If speaking Norwegian gives him a headache, translating is going to cave his skull in. Magnus gives the board a cursory glance. “Hamburger, hamburger with cheese, uh—potato sticks? Chicken… chicken blobs. And… what’s the vegetable with layers. That as rings. ‘Onion rings’. What do you call that.”

“Oh, yeah, I want all of that.”

“Toki, that’s the menu.”

“Do they have something sweet? Milkshake! Can I have a milkshake? Oh, and how much?” Toki reaches into his pocket, and extracts a handful of change: a few quarters, a dime, a bouncy ball with a plastic horse inside of it. “Is this enough?”

Magnus glances at the handful, then waves it away and pulls up to the speaker.

A few minutes later, Magnus is accepting a paper bag veritably dripping with grease from a cashier that looks like as much of a junkie as he is. He hands it to Toki, who’s gone uncharacteristically quiet, and pulls into a space in the parking lot.

Silence is a weird thing. After prolonged exposure to the chatty, sentient ray of sunshine that is Toki, it feels like an ominous cloud has passed over the sun, offering not a pleasant shadow but a promise of a storm. Magus stares out of the windscreen for a minute, waiting for Toki to speak, and when he doesn’t, he finally turns to look at the kid.

Toki is hugging the bag to his chest, staring down at it bashfully, and—God help them all—he looks like he’s tearing up.

“You good?” Magnus asks against his better judgement, in English.

“This my first foods in two days,” Toki whispers.

“Ah, shit, kid.”

Toki looks up at Magnus with big misty eyes. “Nobody’s ever boughts the hankburgers for Toki before...”

“Oh, God, just eat, man. You’re making this weird.”

Toki doesn’t need to be told twice. He eviscerates the bag, tearing it open in his haste to get to the greasy feast inside. As requested, there’s a hamburger, a cheeseburger, a box of chicken nuggets, fries and onion rings, and a milkshake nestled in on top of that all. He doesn’t stop to ask Magnus whether Magnus wants any of the feast, but sets in without hesitation, shoving greasy food into his mouth as if Magnus might at any moment jerk it away from him.

There’s that indigestion-like pity, again; Toki eats like he’s starving. Magnus himself, despite being tall, has always had his appetite dulled by drugs and the various malfunctions of his brain, but many a time he’s watched Nathan put away five jumbo burritos in a row and still have room for dessert. The metabolism of teenage boys is a force of nature unto itself, and Toki is ridiculously, embarrassingly, teenaged.

After a moment of contemplation, watching him dispatch burgers is too much—Magnus switches on the radio, finds himself another cigarette, and glowers out of the window, as his head is filled with the staticky roar of local death metal and the faint slobbery sounds of a famished kid inhaling junk food.

It really is a shame, he finds himself thinking around a pull of cigarette smoke. Maybe this is the post-concussion syndrome speaking, but the Tampa death metal scene can be rough, and Toki seems so nice. Just a dumb, nice kid—

“You’s a hairy bitch.”

Magnus’ gaze jerks back to Toki. “What?”

“You’s a-bitch-hairy,” Toki says. It sounds like it’s meant to be English, but he has no fewer than six French fries hanging out of his mouth, so it’s a little hard to tell.

“Say that again, you little shit—”

Toki’s eyes widen. “A-bitch-wary?” he utters, before swallowing several French fries whole. “What’s on the car sound thing! You’s—no, they’s—they’s Abitchwary.”

“Obituary?”

“That’s what I says!” Face red, Toki switches to Norwegian: “This band is called Obituary, right? I love them!”

“Yeah—yeah, Obituary.” Magnus presses a hand over his eyes. “Never say that to anyone.”

“Were you in Obituary?”

“Nope.”

“What band were you in?”

“Just finish your fucking food.”

“All the good American bands come from Tampa,” Toki observes wistfully, fishing out the last of his French fries from the greasy packet. “Like Morbid Angel, and… don’t know any others, actually, I don’t listen to American bands.” He looks up at Magnus then, beaming, “But I bet the band you were in was the best band.”

They are—they were. “You’re getting your hopes up. Tampa isn’t all that.” Magnus peeks out from behind his fingers, giving Toki one of his more menacing glares. “People here aren’t nice, Toki.”

The glare does absolutely nothing to deter Toki. “You’re nice,” he rebuts. “You drive me around, and talk Norwegian to me, and you bought me food… you’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met, Magnus.”

Magnus needs an antacid, or to be shot, or to lay off the drugs; his stomach is burning. “Yeah, well,” he says gruffly in English, looking away, “You owe me.”

“Owes you what?”

“Huh?”

“What I owes you?”

Magnus glances back over, “It’s a figure of speech—”

“I don’t gots no moneys,” Toki admits, eyes wide. “Whats to give you. You means—” and he pitches his voice into a whisper, “You wants me to sucks your d—”

“Fuck no.”

“But I don’t gots nothing!”

“Do you know what a figure of speech is?”

“Nopes.”

Magnus, speechless, takes a long drag of his cigarette; Toki looks despondently at his lap for all of two seconds before his indomitable sunny nature triumphs.

“I gots it!” Toki declares. “I gets you a new band!”

Magnus blinks at him. “I don’t want a—”

But Toki’s already pulling a crumpled flyer out of his fanny pack. “This band’s having an audition today,” he says in Norwegian, pushing the colourful scrap of paper towards Magnus. “They’re looking for a new guitarist. You’re a guitarist. You should go audition and be their new guitarist!”

Magnus takes the piece of paper. “Aren’t you trying to become a guitarist?”

“Yeah, and I was going to audition, but I owe you, you just said so. So you should go to this one.” Toki gives him a vague smile, “I have a feeling they’ll like you.”

Magnus’ head hurts. His head hurts, and he’s cursed, or otherwise God really exists and hates him personally. On top of it all, his life is a bad joke, and this is confirmed when he un-crumples the flier:

newly signed crystal mountain records

DETH metal band

DETHKLOK

summons GUITARIST for their DETHLY MISSION

And four faces that used to be familiar suspended below the jagged-font red ink. Below their image, the word ‘AUDITION’ blazes, along with today’s date and the location of their old rehearsal space.

Magnus must have blanched, because even the remarkably oblivious Toki notices something strange in his expression. "Do you know them?”

Magnus’ finger grazes Nathan’s face, deformed by creases and grainy with cheap ink. He towers like a mushroom-cloud in the centre of that flier, flanked on either side by his band—sans Magnus, who has been conspicuously edited out of this promotion photo. Hell, he remembers taking the photo, now that he thinks about it, and when he looks to Skwisgaar’s side he finds a conspicuous sharp edge of pixels: the place where they edited Magnus out.

“No,” Magnus answers, face stony, “I don’t know them.”

Toki’s brow creases. “Really?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just thought you’d know them. I don’t know why.” A brief cloud of consternation crosses Toki’s face, but then he grins again. “You should audition for them!”

“No.”

“Yeah, you should! I bet they’d like you! I have a feeling they’d like you.”

“No.”

“Oh, I bet you’ve got performance fright. You know what I do when I have performance fright? I bring my deaddy bear and I pretend I’m performing for him.” Toki gasps. “I’ll give you my deaddy bear! Then you won’t be so scared to audition—”

“I SAID FUCKING NO.”

Magnus screams it—the shout echoes around the interior of the truck like a whip-crack.

Toki’s cowering, flattened against the truck door, his blue eyes big and bewildered. That’s right, Magnus thinks, Toki doesn’t yet know that Magnus Hammersmith is crazy, and that shout had come out of nowhere. His broad dumb face is blank, uncomprehending, as if Magnus had just slapped him across the cheeks and then taken a shit in his milkshake. Abrupt cruelty from a man who’s been so unexpectedly kind to him.

Toki’s fear earns him no mercy from Magnus. “I said no,” Magnus repeats himself, in English, through gritted teeth. “I’m not auditioning for those—those dildos.”

“What means that?” Toki asks in a small voice. “Dildos?”

“It’s a bunch of fake plastic dicks.”

“Like whats the lady fucks herself with?”

“Yeah, Toki, like what the ladies fuck themselves with.”

“And the gay guys, too,” Toki contributes, in a terrified whisper.

Magnus thrusts the flier across the car; Toki takes it and puts it on his lap, staring down at the crumpled faces. There’s a ketchup stain on Murderface’s torso—what’s new?—and Skwisgaar’s beautiful blond hair has been amputated at the shoulder by a minor tear in the paper. The flier itself is printed on nice paper, the Crystal Mountain Records premium stationary; without having recorded a single full album, Dethklok is selling out. There’s a bitterness churning in Magnus’ stomach that no drugs or cigarette smoke can quash.

Still visibly rattled, Toki closes his eyes and takes a few timed deep breaths in a way that Magnus can recognise from experience as an attempt to dispel a building panic attack. When he opens his eyes again, his fear has been tempered by determination. He locks gazes with Magnus, undeterred by the bloody colour of Magnus’ dying left eye.

“I auditions for those dildos,” Toki declares.

Magnus blinks. “Alright, bud. Good for you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Toki glances down at the flier, then sheepishly back up at Magnus. “Can you reads to me the directions to the auditions place?”

Magnus glances down at the address, though he already knows by heart exactly where it is. “I’ll do you one better,” he says, stubbing out his cigarette on the windowsill, “I’ll drop you off there.”

“Really?”

“Sure, it’s not far from here.”

“Thanks, Magnus! You’re the best!”

It’s a blessing in disguise that they’re seated in a truck, because Toki looks like he wants to fly over and tackle Magnus in a greasy, hamburger-scented hug.

Dethklok’s old rehearsal space really isn’t far from here. A mile down the highway and a couple of turns right would have them there in fifteen minutes. Magnus has made the drive a hundred-thousand times before—a pre-rehearsal chicken nugget run, a procrastinatory aimless drive, picking up Nathan from his part-time job, picking up Pickles from a last-minute drug deal, picking up Skwisgaar from his old guitar teacher’s house down the street. Drunken snack-shopping sprees at the nearby strip mall or chaotic, destructive rampages through the neighbouring suburbs; Tampa is his adopted home, by now, he knows these streets like the back of his hand.

Was his adopted home. He’d given years of his life to Dethklok and they’d gone and booted him out of the band just as they were starting to get big. And, looking at Toki, it makes sense: he would be perfect for them, a dumb little doormat they can stamp all over. Magnus is too old, too experienced, too willing to stand up for himself in the face of Pickles’ insubordination and Nathan’s constant criticism. That’s the real reason he’d been kicked to the curb, why Nathan had deliberately pushed his buttons until he’d had an episode and stabbed him—and now he’ll be replaced with a younger, stupider, more Norwegian guitarist. The world is cruel indeed.

As he drives, he watches Toki from the corner of his eye. Toki is slurping down a milkshake, face pressed to the window, grinning stupidly at the passing world. His legs are wrapped around his home-stitched guitar case, his dumb-looking cap sits askew on his badly cut hair. When he catches Magnus staring, he turns around and offers up an enthusiastic smile, face gaping open like a catfish begging for bread.

“Can you comes with me?” Toki asks in English. “I’ll feels better with a good pals like you to hears me play.”

Magnus shakes his head. “You’ll do fine, kid. You don’t need me there.”

“You really thinks so?”

“I knows so.” Magnus takes an exit, makes a left turn, and rolls into a parking lot. “Well, here we are.”

Toki looks out the window and his face falls. “This ams a…” He squints at the sign before them. “Mad…. Dress…”

“It says ‘mattresses’,” Magnus finishes for him.

“They’s auditions in the store for mattresses?”

“Weird, right? But a lot of Americans do it.” Magnus shrugs. “It’s cheap rehearsal space or something. Beats me. But yeah, that’s what it says on the flier.”

“Wowee.” Toki looks at the mattress store, then back at Magnus. There’s the faintest hint of suspicion on his face.

“Tell you what,” Magnus leans back, “I’ll wait out here for you. You go in, do your audition, and then come out and let me know how it goes. Alright?”

The suspicion melts into gooey whole-hearted relief. “Okay,” he agrees, pulling open the door, “I goes auditions and you waits for me. Boy, I feels better knowing my pal Magnus is right heres.”

“Mm.” Magnus looks away, staring pensively at the mattress store as Toki climbs out of the truck. He waits to see Toki skipping his innocent way towards the door—

The driver’s side door of the truck is wrenched open, and suddenly, Magnus is, as he feared, trapped in a greasy, dirty, vaguely hamburger-scented hug.

“You’re the best,” Toki mumbles in Norwegian, voice muffled in Magnus’ shoulder. “I’m gonna do my best guitar playing ever, just for you!”

The aroma coming from Toki leaves no doubt that he has, in fact, been sleeping in a dumpster. “Uh,” Magnus coughs, “Yeah, good luck.”

Toki springs off of him, lands unsteadily on the pavement, and then turns to give Magnus a big, sappy grin. With no further ado, he turns and, as predicted, skips towards the mattress store, his adorable hand-crafted guitar case swinging on his back.

Magnus waits until Toki’s halfway through the door. Then he starts his truck’s engine and goes peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of rubber. He floors it, shooting around the shopping complex and back towards the highway, shaking his head all the while.

What idiot would believe a death metal holds auditions in a mattress store?

Somewhere, buried deep below the migraine and the drugs and the churning tar-black bitterness, Magnus feels a little pang of guilt. Toki seems like such a sweet, dumb kid, dumb enough to actually trust Magnus. He’ll probably be crushed when he realises that Magnus has betrayed him; and then he’ll learn the lesson that people are never simply nice, and he won’t let himself be fucked around with.

Nice kids like Toki don’t survive long—they need to be hurt, the way you hurt your fingers on guitar strings to build up the callouses, and Magnus is one of the only people with the guts to do the hurting. It’s not malicious, really. It’s just a fact of life, a lesson he’d tried to teach Dethklok, too.

Besides, Magnus reasons, he’s doing Toki a favour. Toki is genuinely sweet, caring, he has an optimism to him; a band like Dethklok would chew him up and spit him out. In the long run, when Dethklok is revealed to be a bunch of selfish, backstabbing, petty, lazy cowards, Toki can look back at this encounter and be glad to know that Magnus had his best interests at heart. Maybe by then the world will know how Magnus has been wronged—yes, he’ll be the benevolent, mysterious saviour of this encounter, intervening to spare another talented guitarist from the musical meat grinder. That’s what friends do, after all; Magnus is kind like that.

But the weird pang of guilt remains, and the migraine is worse than ever.

He’ll find a place to park, take one of his last oxys, try and get a nap; he’ll think once or twice about Toki Wartooth, that incomprehensible niceness and the hug he’d given Magnus. But then he’ll go on to brood about how his band kicked him out and how his bitch mother cut him off and how the rest of the world has so cruelly wronged him, and for the foreseeable future, Toki will be little more than a glimpse of sunshine that failed to interrupt a shitty, overcast life.

#metalocalypse #hello fandom i don't interact with. today i offer you: nice things happening to toki #my fic

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callsign-magnolia · 1 year

Text

I Hope You Dance // Ch. 46

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count:

Chapter 45 | Masterlist

The next day we were waiting on Jameson to get in. My parents would be in later, but Laura was excited to see Jameson since he went on tour with mom. JJ was on the floor, sitting up all on his own as I laid in the floor next to him. Sadie rounded the couch, backing up slightly at the sight of JJ. He seemed to make her nervous. She barked at him, making him giggle. “You think she’s funny?” She pounced at him, backing up immediately as he reached out for her. “Easy.” Rooster sat behind Sadie, stopping her from running away, but she just crawled into his lap. She continued to bark at JJ who just giggled. Laura had her phone out, filming everything with a smile. Suddenly JJ threw himself forward, landing on his hands and knees. “Oh my god. Is he gonna crawl?” We all watched intensely as JJ rocked back and forth a few times before slowly crawling towards Rooster and Sadie. “C’mon buddy!” Rooster encouraged. When JJ got close, he reached out to touch Sadie who lunged forward, nipping at JJ’s hand with a growl. Before Rooster could correct her Dahlia jumped up, nipping Sadie’s leg and standing between her and JJ. “Okay. That’s enough.” I stood, lifting JJ from the floor. “Don’t ever do that again.” Rooster said as he lifted Sadie to eye level.

“Dahlia already got her. I think we just need to keep them separated. JJ obviously makes her nervous, so for everyone’s safety, we’re just gonna keep them apart.” I felt a little bad. I should’ve kept JJ away from Sadie anyway. “We live and learn Caila. She didn’t bite him, so we’re all good.” I sighed, sitting next to her. “I still feel bad about it.” She turned JJ to me. “But auntie Mags! You saw me crawl for the first time!” She said in a high pitched voice. JJ just smiled at me, shoving his fingers in his mouth. I laughed, tickling his belly, making him giggle. “God that is the cutest sound!” I squealed, taking him in my arms and laying him on my thighs, tickling him more. “I could literally squeeze you till you pop.” I said as my hair hung around his face and he laughed. I finally sat up, propping up my knees so he was sitting up. I looked over to see Rooster smiling at me with a dopey look on his face. “What?” He just smiled at me, propping his head on his fist. “Nothing.”

Laura just hummed, smirking at Rooster. “Jameson looked at me the same way before we had JJ. If I was holding a baby, he looked like a lovesick fool.” I grinned, looking from Laura to Rooster. “So what? You like seeing me with babies?” I teased and he nodded. “You have no idea.” It was sweet, the way he looked at me. I knew it, he knew it, Laura knew it. I can’t wait for the wedding , because then we can go back to trying. “If it makes you feel any better, seeing you with babies makes me feel like my ovaries are gonna explode.” He smirked, standing from his spot and coming over to take JJ from me. “Why do you think I do it?” He kissed JJ's cheeks, making him giggle before holding him up and making airplane noises as he ‘flew’ him into the kitchen. “Oh. He’s cruel.” Laura said as she laughed. “Don’t I know it.”

We lounged around for a while waiting on Jameson to get here. Laura was excited to see him, but truthfully, I hope they don’t stay too long. My head was starting to hurt. I took some Tylenol for it, hoping I could get rid of it before it turned into a migraine. When Jameson finally arrived around lunch time, JJ was screaming in excitement as he picked him up. The noise made my head pound so I squeezed my eyes shut. “Hey man.” Rooster said as Jameson pulled him into a hug. “You know, I’m so glad it's you marrying my sister.” I turned and glared at him, expecting a remark about Aaron. But he just chuckled, smirking at me. “You’re about the only one that can handle her.” He said as he squeezed Rooster’s shoulders. “Oh please.” I huffed as he walked behind the couch, standing behind me. “You’re just mad I could kick your ass when I got older.” I said as I smacked his stomach, teasing him. What I didn’t expect was the harsh smack to the back of my head. His palm connected with it, making my neck snap forward. I immediately grabbed the back of my head, leaning down till my forehead rested on my knees. “Oh my god. Caila, I did not mean to hit you that hard.” He gasped, handing JJ off as he sat on one side of me, Rooster on the other. My head immediately started pounding harder, and I took deep breaths in hope that would help. Rooster's fingers tangled in my hair, rubbing my scalp and easing the pain.

I sat up, turning to Jameson, reeling my fist back and punching him in the chest. All the breath left his lungs and I felt a little bad. “I have chronic migraines, jackass! Why would you do that?” “I deserved that.” He wheeled, almost sounding like Popeye. “Okay, let’s not hit each other anymore.” Laura said as she came over, rubbing Jameson’s back. Once Jameson caught his breath, he sat back on the couch, taking JJ into his arms. “Well, why don’t we go out for lunch?” Laura nodded enthusiastically and before I could speak up Rooster stood, nodding enthusiastically. “Sounds great, there’s this great seafood place downtown, it’s on the beach and everything.” Everyone enthusiastically agreed, getting up to get ready. I stood, following Rooster upstairs and into our room. He had on jeans and a signature Hawaiian shirt while I only had on black leggings and one of his Phillies shirts. He slid on his usual sneakers, and I grabbed my chaco’s from the closet. “You okay, honey?” He asked as he came over, bending down and strapping my shoes onto my feet. I nodded as he sat up, kissing my forehead. “Yeah, just got a bit of a headache.” He gave me a small smile. “Want to stay home?” Yes. But he was so excited to go out, so I said no. “I’m hungry anyway. I’ll just take some Tylenol before we go.” He nodded, grabbing my purse and handing it to me before we made our way downstairs. I grabbed some Tylenol before walking out to the Bronco with Bradley. Jameson followed behind us in his rental truck as we drove along the coast, arriving at the restaurant sooner than expected. Lunch was so good, but it was loud in the restaurant and by the time we paid the bill, my head was throbbing all the way down into my neck.

“We’re gonna go check into the hotel, we’ll be by to pick up Laura’s stuff later.” Jameson said as he got into his truck. “Sounds good.” I said as I slid my sunglasses over my eyes, blocking out the light. They drove off and Rooster turned to me. “Come on, pretty girl.” I was caught off guard when he swooped me up into his arms. “What are you doing, Roo?” I asked quietly as I laid my head on his shoulder. “Carrying you to the car, honey. You don’t feel good. So we’re going to go home, close the curtains, take your prescription, and get you in bed.” I sighed as my nose brushed against his neck, his cologne wafting into my senses. “You’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” He chuckled as I reached out and opened the door. “I would hope so. You are marrying me.” I grinned at him. “And I can’t wait.” I said as I kissed him sweetly before he put me in the passenger seat. The car ride home was fine until about halfway, when the nausea kicked in. I leaned my head on the window, covering my mouth as I did so. “You okay?” Rooster asked, concern lacing his voice. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” I closed my eyes, hoping it would pass. “You want me to pull over?” I sat there for a moment when suddenly saliva flooded my mouth and I nodded. Rooster yanked the bronco over on the side of the road, allowing me to jump out, falling to my knees in the sand and puking up everything in my system. I heard another door open and suddenly Rooster was next to me, puking himself. Once I finished, I managed to stand, placing my hand on his back as he finished himself. “Are you okay, honey?” I asked as I closed my eyes, blocking them from the sun. “Yeah. The sound of people puking, just makes me-“ He retched again, and I just rubbed his back more.

Once he was done, he stood. “We are going home. Taking a shower. Then we’re taking a goddamn nap.” Rooster said as he looked down at me. I just nodded as he walked me back to the car, opening my door and buckling me in before he drove us home. Once we were home, we did exactly as he said, except we added brushing our teeth before he drew the curtains, he gave me my medication, and we curled up against each other in bed. “I’m sorry for making you puke.” I said as my head rested on his chest. “It wasn’t really you that made me puke. It was just the sound.” A small smile tugged on my lips. “So, I made you puke.” He sighed, his hand running up and down my spine. “Okay yes. Technically, you did.” I giggled lightly, not wanting to jostle myself too much, and wrapped my arms around him. “You’re amazing, you know that?” I managed to look up at him, seeing his brows furrowed. “I just told you, that you made me puke and you call me amazing?” I giggled, my fingers splaying across his chest. “Because you took care of me.” He pressed a kiss to my wet hair as he pulled me closer. “That’s all I want to do, just take care of you.” I smiled as his fingers made their way into my hair, rubbing my scalp. “Get some sleep, Mags.” I hummed, slowly drifting off to sleep as I clung to him.

I heard the bedroom door opening before it was quickly closed again. Footsteps moved closer and I thought it was Bradley, but then a familiar, warm scent invaded my nostrils. “Mama?” My eyes were still closed, head still pounding as I laid in the bed. “Hi sweetie.” She whispered, her fingers running through my hair. I moaned in content, the feeling easing the throbbing in my head. “Bradley said you had a migraine.” I just barely nodded, reaching behind me and feeling Rooster’s side of the bed empty. “He’s downstairs with your dad. Do you need anything?” I nodded. “Water and more medicine.” She hummed before standing up and walking out. A few minutes later she came back, and I took the pill and drank the water. “Rooster said you took some medicine earlier?” I nodded. “Still got it.” I slurred. “Okay, well get some rest. We’ll all be back at around nine in the morning to get ready to go dress shopping.” I nodded and she kissed my head before walking out. I drifted back off until Rooster came back a little while later, crawling into the bed behind me. “Feeling any better, pretty girl?” I hummed. “Just a little.” He kissed the back of my head. “Turn over.” I did as he said, his fingers weaving into my hair again and he massaged my head some more. A moan slipped my lips, and he chuckled. “I hope I don’t have it tomorrow. I have to find a dress.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t. And that includes this.” He gently rolled me onto my back before leaning down and kissing me gently. I smiled as he kissed my cheek, down to my neck, soon his lips made their way down my chest, and along my sternum. A small moan slipped my lips as he grabbed my hips. “Honey, I love you but I’m not really up for sex.” He chuckled as he kissed the top of my stomach before his tongue ran over my naval. “Don’t worry, honey. This is all about you.”

He maneuvered my underwear down my legs and tossed them to the floor before he yanked the covers over his head. My chest was heaving as he spread my legs, his lips placing kisses along my inner thighs. “Rooster. You don’t have to-“ A whine escaped me as his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking harshly on it. “No, but I really… really want to.” He ran his tongue up my slit, flattening it against my clit. Rooster buried his face in my pussy. I threw my head back as I moaned, his tongue working against me and inside me. I felt so good, I could hardly feel the throbbing in my head anymore. “Oh god. Rooster, honey. Just like that.” My hands trailed down my torso, before I tangled my fingers in his hair. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arms around my thighs, keeping me from scooting away from him. Pressure was building in my belly, making me writhe beneath him. “Oh fuck, Roo! Don’t stop!” I begged as he worked me over more until finally my legs were shaking in his hands. A high-pitched moan escaped my lips as my orgasm washed over me, my back arching off the bed. He sat up, peering at me from under the covers with a smirk. “Feel better?” When he asked, I took notice to the throbbing in my head. It wasn’t as bad as before, but it still hurt. “A little.” He smirked, crawling up my body till he was leaning over me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it go away, sweet girl.” He leaned down, kissing me. I could taste myself on his lips, moaning as I did. “You still helped.” He smiled, resting his forehead on mine. “I love you, Mags.” I gave him a soft smile as he rolled onto his side of the bed. “I love you too, Roo.” He got up, brushing his teeth and bringing me a wet rag to clean up before we fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

The next morning, I slipped into a white sundress and did my makeup as I waited for everyone to show up. The doorbell went off as I applied my eyeliner and soon footsteps thundered up the stairs. I turned just as mom came into the bathroom. “Oh good! You’ve already curled your hair!” I nodded as she stepped behind me, stealing a bobby pin out of the pile on the counter. “Squat down a little?” I bent my knees so my mom could pin up my curls in a messy updo. “Oh! I can’t believe we’re going dress shopping!” She squealed as she pinned the last curl up on my head. It wasn’t perfect but it was messy and cute and somewhat resembled what my hair would look like on my wedding day. “I know! I’m so excited!” Once she was done, I slid my feet into some wedges and grabbed my purse as I heard more people filing into the house. I grabbed the small box on the dresser that held Carol’s veil, neatly folded and wrapped up, and turned to mom. “Did you bring it?” Mom nodded, excitement showing on her face as she led me downstairs. “Hey y’all!” I squealed, pulling Rebecca into a hug. “Oh my god! I am so excited!” She said as she grabbed my hands. I nodded as mom walked over with the box she brought. Rebecca and Laura gathered around, peering into the box as she opened it, revealing the tiara mom wore for her wedding. It was silver with small diamonds adorning it and I obsessed over it as a little girl. “Oh god, mama! It’s beautiful!” She smiled at me, a few tears in her eyes. “What’s beautiful?” Bradley’s voice came from behind me, and mom slammed the box closed. “Nothing.” I said when I turned to face him. He was in a pair of navy pants, with a white polo that had little black spots in it with a few salmon colored ones sprinkled in. “Oh? So, I can’t see it?” I shook my head, tossing my arms around his shoulders. “No. You can’t see anything that I’m wearing on the day of our wedding.”

He smiled at me, leaning down and giving me a peck on the lips. “Where are you going dressed all nice?” I asked, stepping back and looking at him some more. “Golfing.” Dad said as he tossed his arm around his shoulder. I raised a brow in surprise. “Golfing? Since when do you golf, daddy?” He chuckled. “Since Thomas took me after Thanksgiving. Been playing since.” I chuckled as I tugged on Rooster’s sleeve. “Ya know, I love the Hawaiian shirts. But I really like this too.” He chuckled, pulling me into his side as Dad walked over to join my mom. “You look absolutely beautiful.” I smiled up at him. “Thank you, and you look really handsome.” He smiled, kissing my forehead as the doorbell rang, making the dogs bark. “I got it!” I yelled, rushing over to the door. I opened it to see Phoenix and Hangman. “Hey!” I pulled Phoenix into a hug as Jake made a beeline for JJ who was in Jameson’s arms. “Are you excited?” I nodded. “You have no idea.” She came in just as everyone else arrived. “Lord! Did the entire team take the day off?” I exclaimed as Fanboy, Bob, Halo and Coyote walked up to the door. “Rooster said we were all going golfing and that he needed to talk to us. So, Mav gave us the day off.” Coyote said as he pulled me into a hug. I turned and saw Becca talking to Hangman and I snatched Bob’s arm as he walked by. “Be cool.” I whispered to him as I locked my elbow around his “What?” He asked as I pulled him with me over to Becca. “No. Caila!” He whisper shouted, but went quiet as we got closer. “Becca.” I sang as we got closer. She turned, her eyes going wide when she spotted Bob. “Becca. This is Robert Floyd, but we all call him Bob.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d say no one else existed in this room besides them.

“Hi… I’m Rebecca Parker.” She sounded like she was drifting in the clouds somewhere. I quickly dropped his elbow, rushing over to Rooster. “Did you just make them fall in love?” He whispered as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I scoffed, shaking my head. “No…” But now that I looked at it, they seemed to be lost in each other. All the chatter made me realize that everyone was here. “Okay! While I have everyone here, can I get all the girls on the couch?” I grabbed the boxes that had the bridesmaid gifts in them. “Help me hand these out?” I held onto one while Rooster handed out the other four to Rita, Halo, Rebecca and Laura. “Go ahead, open them.” I said as Rooster came over, tossing his arm around my shoulders. The girls ripped the boxes open as they sat together. “Oh my god!” Laura said as she held up the navy silk robe. “Turn it around.” She did and grinned. “I love that it has my name across the back!” She stood, rushing over and pulling me into a hug. “Did you look any deeper in it?” She rushed back as everyone else finally got into theirs. She pulled out a pair of simple gold dangly earrings and a gold and diamond bracelet. They were all gushing over them, pulling out the simple card that said, ‘Will you be my bridesmaid?’ I got various answers of yes, mostly squeals as they rushed over to hug me. Once they let go, I spotted Phoenix sitting on the couch, playing with the hem of her lavender dress. I walked over, still clutching the last box. “Did you think I forgot you?” I asked as I sat next to her. She grinned as I handed her the box and she opened it. Pulling out her robe that said ‘Natasha’ across the back. She got matching earrings and bracelet, but she also had a champagne hair piece in hers. “I was wondering if you would be my maid of honor?” She gave me a teary smile as she pulled me into a hug. “I’d be honored.”

Hangman started clapping obnoxiously which turned into Jameson joining and Rooster after him. Soon everyone was and I held my hands up. “Okay! First appointment is in half an hour, let’s get rolling!” Everyone agreed and we all made our way outside. Rooster locked the door before taking me into his arms. “I love you.” I smiled at him. “I love you too, honey.” He grinned, kissing me softly. “Have a good day, find the dress of your dreams and I will sit here impatiently waiting to see it in December.” I giggled as he buried his face in my neck, his mustache tickling me. Soon he pulled away, grabbing my hand and walking me over to the SUV my dad rented. All of us girls were taking that while Jameson, Rooster, JJ and dad took the Bronco. “And you have a fun day playing golf with the boys and we will meet you at the restaurant for dinner tonight.” He pouted. “A whole day without you? I don’t think I’ll make it.” He kissed me softly as we heard a sound of disgust from the car next to me. “You two are gross. Let her go Rooster or else she won’t have a dress for your wedding.” Halo remarked. I giggled as Rooster opened the passenger side door, helping me into the seat and buckling me in. “I love you, pretty girl.” I grabbed his collar, pulling him into a kiss. “I love you too, Roo.” With that I let him go and closed the door as mom cranked the car up. Rooster smiled at me before walking towards the back of the car. “OW! I’LL KILL YOU BRADSHAW!” Halo screamed as he ran off. Everyone in the backseat was laughing and mom and I turned around. “What’d he do?” I asked as she rubbed the center of her forehead. “That fucker flicked me!” I laughed loudly as Halo scrunched her brows together, rubbing the creases in her skin.

The ride to the first bridal shop was short, which was good because I was nervous and excited all at once. Once we walked in, the nerves disappeared, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with excitement. “Oh my god!” Mom rushed over to a rack, holding up a dress with a bejeweled bodice. “Caila! Look at this one!” I giggled a little at her excitement. “Come back over here mom.” She admired the dress for another minute before joining us as a blonde woman approached. “Hi! I’m Cindy.” She was cheery which made me even more excited. “Hi! I have an appointment this morning.” She looked went to her computer, typing along the keyboard. “What’s the last name?” I opened my mouth, going to say my last name but remembered. “I scheduled it under Bradshaw.” She nodded when she found it. “I got you right here. Now is Bradshaw your name or your fiancé’s name?” A blush crept up my neck. “My fiancé’s name.” She nodded. “And what’s your name?” “Caila Motley.” She nodded again, coming out from behind the counter. “Great. I only ask because we refer to you by your maiden name while you’re here. Now, what kind of dress are you looking for?” She asked as she tucked a clipboard into her chest. “I want a ball gown. That’s the only thing I’m sure of. I’m willing to try sleeves, sleeveless, strapless. Open back, bare back, cross back. I will try it all as long as it’s a ball gown.” She nodded. “Awesome and when is your wedding?”

“December 31st. Here in San Diego.” She nodded, writing it all down. “Alright, follow me!” Mom grabbed my arm, holding it as we followed her. “Are you excited?” I nodded. “Very.” Cindy led us to a semiprivate area for everyone to sit. “Champagne?” We all couldn’t say yes fast enough, and she smiled, and grabbed the bottle and glasses from a cart nearby. “Now, what’s your budget?” She asked as she poured our glasses. “Three thousand dollars!” Mom yelled and I looked at her wide eyed. “It’s not an auction, Regina.” Laura said and mom stuck her tongue out at her. “Three-thousand dollars is her budget and I’m mom, so I’m paying.” She said as she smirked, almost smug that she was paying. Cindy nodded and laughed. “Alright! Well, here is your champagne, and if the bride will follow me, we will get started.” I nodded as she handed me a glass and I followed her to the door against the far wall. Once inside I admired the simple yet elegant room. “If you will get undressed for me, I will go and get you a few dresses to start.” I nodded and she walked out. I took my dress and shoes off, waiting on her to come back.

“Okay! I got you three to start!” Cindy said as she came back into the room. I smiled, clapping my hands excitedly as she hung them up. “Let’s start with this one first.” She pulled out a very sparkly dress and as I slid it on, it was big, and the straps crossed on my back. I didn’t hate it, but I wasn’t crazy about the sparkles. She opened the door, and I held the dress up as I walked out and towards the small platform that was placed in front of the triple mirrors. There were gasps and oohs and ah’s. “The dress is gorgeous, but it doesn’t quite seem like something you’d wear.” Mom said and everyone agreed. “Yeah, you want something extravagant but not flashy.” Rita pointed it out and I agreed. That’s how the rest of the day went. Trying on beautiful dresses, but none of them were it. I pouted as we sat down for lunch, scrolling through dresses on my phone. “Am I being too picky?” I asked, scrolling past a cream-colored dress. “No!” All their voices at once startled me. I jumped in my seat, looking at all of them. “You never compromise for your wedding. If you do, you may not enjoy it as much as you hoped you would.” Laura said, giving me a small smile. “I didn’t compromise anything for mine, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” Mom nodded. “I did, and I hate that I did.” I raised a brow at her. “Your mamaw pushed and pushed for us to have a church wedding, and I wish we didn’t do it.” With that our food arrived and we all ate before heading to my next appointment.

“So what are you looking for?” Michelle, my stylist asked as we walked down the lines of dresses. “I want a ball gown. I want white, no cream, eggshell, ivory. I want pure white.” She nodded. “Anything else?” I nodded. “Nothing super sparkly. I want extravagant, not flashy. Um, off the shoulder straps, maybe lace.” She nodded motioning for us to sit down on the large couch. “I will have another person get you some champagne while I go get a few dresses to start with.” We nodded and we all squeezed onto the couch. “I hope I find a dress today. This is so stressful.” Mom rubbed my back and gave me a small smile. “Even if you don’t find one today, we can look some more on Friday.” I huffed. “Rooster and I are finally doing our engagement pictures on Friday, then he has some special date planned.” She smiled at me. “We will find you a dress, sweetie. It may just take time.” With that, a girl handed us glasses of champagne and Michelle came back, dresses in her arms. “Ready?” I nodded, setting my glass down and following her into the dressing room. “Okay, let’s get you undressed, and we’ll start.”

I tried on multiple dresses but none of them were quite right. Michelle went to see if there was anything else while I stood on the platform, a wedding dress on that I didn’t really like. A few tears welled in my eyes, and I took a deep breath trying to fight them off. “Hey.” Mom said as she walked in front of me. “It’ll be okay. Don’t let yourself get upset over this.” I shook my head. “I’m just stressed. They say you’re supposed to have your dress eight to ten months before your wedding, and we only have eight months till the wedding.” She ran her thumbs under my eyes, clearing them of tears. “You don’t have to adhere to anyone else’s schedule. If you find a dress two months before your wedding, then you find it two months before your wedding. As long as you love it and feel beautiful in it, that’s all that matters.” Michelle walked over with a small smile. “I found one last one for you.” I took a deep breath, gathering my skirt in my hands and following her back to the dressing room. She helped me out of my current dress before unzipping the dress bag for the new one. I could immediately see a lace bodice, and some sparkle. It was very subtle, but I grimaced at it. She pulled the dress out and pulled it up my body before lacing the corset and pulling it flush against my body. I stared at it and something warm settled in my chest, a smile growing on my face. “I think we like this one.” Michelle said and I nodded. The skirt was big and full, making me feel like a princess. The lace covered the bodice and slowly dissipated as it went down the skirt. Michelle opened the door, and I stepped out, immediately being met with gasps.

I smiled as I stepped up on the platform and Michelle pulled the train out as I adjusted the front of it. “This one is gorgeous.” Phoenix said as she walked around me, looking at all the details. “Damn. Could your boobs look any better?” Rebecca asked, making me giggle. The sweetheart neckline showed my breasts off and held them up, taking the strain off my back. “I like this one, a lot.” I said and Michelle nodded. “Do you want to try it with a veil?” I nodded and turned to mom. She grabbed the box with her tiara and Rebecca grabbed the box with Carol’s veil. Mom situated the veil on my head, and they got the veil attached. Michelle straightened the veil out and once I could see the entire outfit put together; it was like the breath was knocked from my lungs. I stared at myself in the mirror for what felt like hours, just taking in every little detail of the dress. “Caila.” I turned to Halo who had picked up part of the dress and the veil. “The lace is almost identical.” She was right. The lace on the dress and the lace on the veil had very few differences, and unless you looked closely, you’d never be able to tell they weren’t the exact same. She let them both go, and I looked in the mirror again. “This is it.” I said, running my hands along the skirt. Mom grinned at me in the mirror, coming up and resting her chin on my shoulder. “This is the dress you want?” I nodded, smiling at her in the mirror. “Yeah. This is it. This is the dress I’m getting married in.” She kissed my cheek before stepping back. “Let me get a picture realquick.” I groaned, covering my face. “Mom!”

“Move your hands and turn around here.” I groaned but did it anyway, placing my hands on my hips with a smile. She took the picture, and I took another moment to admire myself. “You really like it, don’t you?” Phoenix asked and I nodded. “I was iffy about it at first, but now that I’m standing here in front of these mirrors with the tiara and veil. I realized I love it, and I couldn’t see myself getting married in any other dress.” Michelle came over, helping me down from the platform. “Alright, let’s get you back into your clothes and then we’ll be done.” We got the tiara and veil off me and packaged them back up before Michelle helped me get out of the dress. She left with the dress, and I got back into my clothes before grabbing my purse and walking out. “Where’s mom?” I asked when I noticed she was gone. “Paying for your dress.” Laura said as she hiked her purse up on her shoulder. I nodded and we walked towards the front where mom was. She finished and I was handed the dress. “Where are you gonna keep it? Bradley seems a little nosey.” Becca asked as I carefully hung up the dress in the back, laying it out gently so it wasn’t squished. “A secret location.” I said and she raised a brow. “Mav and Penny’s. He won’t let Bradley anywhere near it.”

They all laughed as we got back into the car. “Well, we have a few hours before we’re meeting the guys for dinner. What should we do?” Mom asked as she started the SUV and cranked the air on high. “I have a few ideas.” I said with a smirk. Five hours later, we were rolling up to the seaside restaurant, seeing all the guys already there. I smiled as I got out of the car, seeing Bradley leaning up against the bronco talking to everyone. I sauntered over, the small crowd dispersing as I got closer. “What the hell happened to you?” He asked, wide eyed. “Mm, just a wax and a spray tan.” I said as I tossed my arms over his shoulders. “Spray tan?” I nodded. “For our engagement pictures.” He nodded. “Honey, I love you but I’m gonna be honest. You look like you took a swim in a pool full of chocolate and it stained your skin.” I laughed. “It’s setting. By the time we get home tonight I will shower, and I won’t be this dark.” He let out a breath that he was holding. “Thank god.” I raised a brow at him. “Do I really look that bad?” I asked, taking a step back from him. He immediately reached for me, his arms going around my waist, pulling me close. “Not bad. Just a little ridiculous. But you did say it’ll lighten up, so I’m sure you you’ll look beautiful.” I hummed as he leaned down to kiss me.

“Do you have tan lines?” He asked when he pulled away slightly. “Not a one.” He smirked, kissing me again. “God you two are sickening. Our table is ready.” Hangman said as he waved the buzzer around. We pulled apart just as a familiar car pulled in. “So, did you find a dress?” I nodded as Mav and Penny walked over, Amelia in tow. “I sure did.” I said as we hugged everyone. “And where is it?” I looked to Penny and Rooster groaned. “Don’t worry. My guard dog is on it.” I said as I patted his chest. “Guard dog?” I nodded. “I’ll break your fingers if you go near that dress.” Amelia said as she walked between us to go inside. Rooster’s eyes were wide, and I laughed at his befuddled look. “Amelia?” I nodded. “I took it over there and she said she’d guard it with her life, so I took her up on her offer.” Mav and Penny made their way inside, Rooster and I trailing behind. A yelp escaped my lips as Rooster stopped and pulled me back. “Wait. Did you say that you got a wax?” I nodded as he stared at me. “I’ve only ever seen you shave. So, what did you wax?” I smirked at him and after a second his eyes wandered down my body. “You’ll find out when we get home.” He groaned. My hand subtly brushed his growing erection as I walked away, knowing it would rile him up for tonight. If I kept this up, we probably wouldn’t make it through the front door. Finally, we arrived at the table, sitting in the center, surrounded by everyone. It was nice having friends and family around. It was almost peaceful.

I rested my head on his shoulder as I held his hand in my lap, just listening to everyone talk. “Oh, your dad and I got you a gift.” Mom said as she reached down next to her chair. “Oh, mama. You didn’t have to get us anything.” She just shook her head, setting a white and gold wrapped box on the table. “You can use it for years. You can document everything for your wedding, and even when you have kids.” Rooster reached for the box, pulling it close. We each took an end, yanking on the paper until we got it off. “It’s a video camera.” Mom nodded excitedly. “You can video all these parts of your lives. We did a lot of home videos when you were kids, and I know that your parents did too, Bradley.” He nodded. “It’s one of the best things we did as a family, and we just thought that y’all would love to do it too.” I looked at the box and looked at Bradley. “Y’all will make so many memories with it.” I nodded as Bradley, and I shared a look. One that said not all those memories were going to be family friendly.

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Taglist: @mak-32 @rosiahills22 @dhwanishah09

#i hope you dance #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster #rooster fanfic #top gun maverick #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #natasha trace #phoenix #pete maverick mitchell

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chloeillustrates16 · 2 years

Text

40s Comfort

Summary: You've been best friends with Sam and Sarah since you were kids. You head over to the cookout to celebrate Sam's victory and taking over the Captain America mantle when you spot the Sargent playing with Jim and Jody.

Warnings: Literally None but tooth rotting fluff. Sort of long.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

The sun hung high in the sky; music was blasting on the docks. You arrive, getting out of your car and headed towards the water. You call out, "Sam! Sarah!" the two turned towards you, you rush over to them and pulled them into a tight hug,

"Y/N, how are you?" Sarah asked, excitedly as the three of you pulled away.

"I'm good, how are you two?"

"We're good," Sam answered.

"Congrats on being Captain America, I bet Jody and Jim are excited to know that their uncle is taking over the mantle." Sam chuckled shaking his head,

"If anything, they're excited about playing with the shield." You nodded, those boys were basically your nephews as well, you've been so close with Sarah and Sam growing up that you became their aunt when they were born.

"Speaking of them, where are they?"

"Oh they--" Sarah was cut off. Jim and Jody sprint passed with another blonde girl laughing and screaming, Sam sighed,

"You are chasing them, seriously Buck?"

"Not really, I just let them run off," A man's voice came being you. Turning you, were now facing James Barnes...AKA The Winter Soldier, your heart skipped a beat. Not out of fear, of course, anyone would be a fool to think that he wasn't handsome, even though he was over a hundred and looked thirty.

A man called over Sarah and Sam to help them with something, you and the Sargent were now alone. You turn towards him, "I'm Y/N, it's an honor to finally meet you, Sargent Barnes." He couldn't help but study your features, the color of your eyes, your skin shining in the afternoon sun, everything.

"You know who I am?"

"Who doesn't at this point? You're a hero," Bucky's heart skipped a beat. You added, "How long have you known Sam?" you ask, Bucky snapped out of it.

"A few years, not counting the blip. He helped me," he explained.

"Sam has a tendence to do that. And get into other people's business," Bucky let out a laugh causing your heart to pick up in a rapid pass.

"Tell me about it, trust me, I know all too well."

Later, most of everyone went home. You stared out on the water, the sooth sound of water crashing against the deck drew you away from the real world. You had your headphones in, 40s music softly playing in your ears. A muffled voice came from behind you, pulling out your earbuds. Bucky was standing right next to you,

"What was that?"

"If you aren't careful, you might drop your phone. What are you still doing here?" he asked, nothing malice about it.

"Just watching the sun set," you answer.

"What are you listening too?" you handed Bucky the earbud, he placed it in his ear as you started the music again. He smiled, remembering the tone. Bucky shut his eyes, he felt like he was back in the 40s again. It always happens when he listens to music, you noticed he was tapping his foot against the wood.

You couldn't help but stop and stare at the content look on his face. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and leaned against the railing. "I have to admit, never thought I would meet someone so young liking 40s music," he said a bit embarrassed.

"I don't blame you; I get weird stares when people find out. Sam used to tease me about it when we were younger, not so much anymore."

"You've been listening since you were young?"

"My mom, she used to sing me to sleep when I was being restless." Bucky opened his eyes and swore that his heart stopped for a moment, the sunset colors bounced off your hair and lit up your eyes, Bucky pulled out the earbud and handed it back to you.

"I should get going before Sam thinks I ran off or something," he rolled his eyes.

"Of course, I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, see you around," he moved away leaving you standing on the dock. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you headed home.

You found out through Sam that Bucky lived in New York, that he had left a few weeks prior. It slightly pained you to hear that the man of your dreams practically disappeared like a ghost. Sarah even took noticed of the difference in your attitude.

"Y/N, is everything all right?" she asked one sunny morning.

"Not really," you mumble under your breath. Sarah frowned, sitting down in the chair beside where you were sitting on the couch.

"What's going on?"

"Just, daydreaming; do you know when James will be back?"

"James?"

"You mean Bucky?" you flinched hearing Sam, he was completely astonished.

"Yeah," Sarah stared at you for a moment.

"Do you like him?" Sam asked, practically reading his sister's mind.

"What? No, no! It's not like that, seriously, I just was hoping to get to know him more," you tried to ignore the redness covering your cheeks.

"You do!" you groaned, covering your face with your hands. This was silly, having a crush on a man that is out of his time...literally.

"Don't make this a big deal, it'll go away in like a week or so," you shrugged. Trying to dismiss the starstruck look on his face,

"Well, lucky for you, I have to meet him at the airport in New York so...you can come with me and stay with Torres," he suggested.

"Really?"

"Just try not to get into too much trouble, we kind of don't want you dead."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sarah asked, Sam nodded.

"She sure to be fine," it was silly to think that you were the same age as Sarah, yet she treated you like a little sister.

You were with Torres, talking, Sam was waiting for Bucky. Torres was showing you what he did, staying on the sidelines and directing Bucky and Sam towards the target. The doors loudly swung open, "About time!" Sam called out teasingly,

Something on Bucky's face signaled to you that he was pissed off about something. You kept your mouth shut and slightly hid behind Torres. Bucky glanced over at him and noticed that you were next to him, he slightly paused. His eyes trained on you; you were talking Torres about something he wasn't interested in.

"Y/N?" you tensed, turning towards Bucky.

"Hey, been a bit."

"What are you doing here?" his mood was lighter then when he walked in.

"I'm helping," you smiled, trying to pretend you knew what you were doing. He nodded, before Sam snapped him out of it.

"Let's go!"

"All right, all right!" he huffed in annoyance.

"Are you coming?" Torres asked, turning towards you. You nodded following him towards the plane. You stood off to the side, Bucky staring off in space, Sam was messing on his phone waiting for the time to skip. You walked over to him, lightly tapping him on the shoulder, he jerked turning towards you.

"You, okay?"

"Huh, oh yeah," he seemed out of it. You got an idea, taking out your earbuds motioning for Bucky to put on in. He sighed, taking it and placing it in his ear. You placed the other in your ear, listening to the soft music. Bucky drowned everything else out and laid back. You smiled, leaning against his metal arm, he glanced down at you as you hand your phone pressed against your stomach and your eyes shut.

Sam glanced over at you two with a smile before leaving towards the cockpit to talk to Torres.

You felt an arm wrap around you, your body being pressed against a side, the metal arm wasn't as cold as you thought, it was actually warm. You guess that it was heat regulated, with the advanced technology. Your face flushed as Time After Time by Margaret Whiting started to play.

"Thank you," Bucky's voice was soft.

"You don't have to thank me," you open your eyes and moved your head to stare up at him. Your heart stopped; your faces were dangerously close.

"I want to, you don't have to be so kind to me." you didn't respond, "Can I?" All you could do is nod while staring into his steel-blue eyes. He leaned down, his lips pressing against yours. Pulling away, you miss the presence of his lips on yours. "Sorry, too fast?"

"Not at all, Sargent," he chuckled.

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #short fiction #bucky fic #fatws bucky

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berryylll · 6 months

Text

Chaos

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a/n : wrote this as a prompt based off my friends cat ☆

CW!! : Explosions, wounds, gore, implied animal death, implied human death, intense situations

wc : 670

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Chaos. Ok well not literal chaos but chaos the cat! Garrett was sitting in his bed with the cat, petting chaos as they scrolled through their phone. Then a loud buzzing came from outside, then a boom and next thing Garrett knows, his hand, previously petting the black cat, was gone. Blown off. As was the rest of the house, and chaos nowhere in sight. What happened? An unanswerable question at the time, no context known besides an obvious explosion had happened. Garrett couldn't think of much, ringing and dizziness filling his head like cotton stuffed in a jar. He stood up shakily, stumbling to find a solid surface until he made it to the crumbling door frame. Door burnt but partially intact. The rest of his room looked like a ruin from some kind archeological site. Dust, concrete, smote wood broken and trashed everywhere. Including his hand, just sitting there on the ground roughly blown off and halfway there. Oh shit. With the realization he was going to be sick, correction, apparently he already was, in the midst of throwing up as recognition came to him. Garrett clutched the frame for some sort of grounding, a sort of stability to at least keep him standing. ‘This can’t be happening’ he thought, trying to get his mind to focus.

It smelled like burning garbage and popcorn smoke from a microwave. It only furthered the nausea he was feeling. He had to find someone and get help, there's no way he could stay here without medical attention. His mom was a doctor, he's sure she could help. But she was at work last time he checked, hopefully she came home after the explosion. Was it always this hot? Garrett walks out to the living room, also crumbling just as he found out the rest of the house was. He could hear screaming outside but was too exhausted and unfocused to check. The sound felt like a car swerving on a rocky road. Garrett didn’t know how that was possible but didn't enjoy the sound of it hitting his eardrums either way. Thankfully he still had working eardrums. No one was on the ground floor so he made his way to the basement. He stood at the stairwell of the entrance internally hating the experience of what it was gonna be like going down the stairs. When he got down there after throwing up one more and two quick trips to grab his bearings he found Goose and his mom hiding. His mom was frantically trying to patch up the burn wounds and almost melting skin on Goose’s face. Goose was Garrett's younger sister, her real name was Gracey but 5 year old Garrett thought Goose sounded better then her birth name. So it sort of stuck. “Am I interrupting a cuddle session?” Garrett spoke hoarsely, surprised he could speak at all.

“Garrett! Oh holy shit!”Goose said, surprised at his very presence, their mom was quick to correct the vulgar language.

But she let it go quickly, getting up to usher Garrett over, checking him quickly. Her eyes landed on his hand and those same eyes widened in absolute horror, worry and shock all at once. It felt like he was being cared for by an angry crow. A squawking and trembling voice erupting from his mother as she got something to cut off the circulation quickly shoving a bottle of water and an apple in his face. To which Garrett ate though hesitating at some point because of his already upset and uneasy stomach. Despite her wounds, though already bandaged, Goose would not stop asking questions about what happened to him, he answered as many as he could with his head slowly returning back to a somewhat normal state. After his forearm had been wrapped in a tourniquet, his mom told him how they had ended up down in the basement, thankfully safe from all of the horrible radiation and damage. Oh man did they have a lot to catch up on…

#Beryl Blerbs!!#writing prompts #writing

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casspurrjoybell-32 · 8 months

Text

All It Took Was One Look - Chapter 4

*Warning Adult Content*

Aiden

After that crazy family episode Jeanine, Eric and I made plans to hang at Starbucks for a while.

It was our favorite hangout spot.

It was a Sunday and I was dying to get out of this house, Nash was still hounding me about what mom was talking about on Friday.

He just didn't believe me and I was starting to get annoyed.

I literally had to slam the door in his face and lock it, he was knocking yelling to open the door for a whole five minutes till he finally gave up.

I mean damn do I looked like a damsel in distress?

I can handle myself. Jeez.

And this is the reason why I'm planning my escape from this loony bin I call a home.

I took a quick shower, towel dried my hair;.m

My hair was naturally straight so I didn't have to waste my time on it.

I bumped into Connie on the way down stairs.

I quickly grabbed her by the arms and steadied her on her feet.

"Dang Con, my bad," I said to her, I really don't think that she heard me though since she hand her iPod in.

I walked past her into the kitchen where my dad was drinking coffee and reading a new book.

Sitting at the table across him I took an orange off the table and began to peel it.

It was silent for a long while.

I was half done with my orange when my dad finally looked up from him book and said something.

"So what's on your agenda for today?" he asked meeting my gaze.

I shrugged stuffing the rest of my orange in my mouth.

"Eric and Jayare coming to pick me up to go to Starbucks."

I got up to throw the peels away and turn towards him leaning a hip on the counter.

He nodded taking a sip of coffee.

"You should take Connie with you. She's been bored all day," he suggested.

I frowned at him like he was crazy.

Connie has friends, she doesn't need to hang out with mine.

"She has her own friends. She doesn't need to hang with mine," I voiced my thoughts.

He sighed and shook his head.

"I think her and Jennifer had a fight. She's been moping around here all weekend. So I thought you could be a good big brother and take her mind off of it. Or is that just social suicide," he said with a fake shocked face.

I suppressed my smile as I shook my head at him.

"Okay, okay. I'll take her," I huffed at him leaving the kitchen with slouched shoulders.

I knocked on Connie's door.

"Come in," she yelled.

Opening the door I saw her laid out on her back reading some teen magazine.

'Con and her magazines,' I thought mentally shaking my head.

I looked around her room and saw all the posters and articles she had torn from them tapped to her walls.

Her room was a sky blue but every inch of the walls were coved in her stupid posters and pictures of friends.

Looking over to her, she was staring at me impatiently.

"Hurry up and get dressed were going out," I said before turning to leave.

"Okay," her chipper voice followed me as I left.

I grabbed my cell-phone from my room and called Jay.

"Hey man," Eric's voice startled me, did I call the right person?

As I was about to check he said.

"Yes you called the right number dumbass but Jay's driving," he said.

I rolled my eyes... smart ass.

"We're almost there," I heard Jay yell through the phone.

"Yeah like she said we're almost there," he said.

"Oh okay. I just called to let you guys know that Connie's coming with us," I told him and heard him repeat it to Jay and regrettably her scream.

'OMG I miss her we have so much to talk about.'

I held the phone away from my ear wincing as it started to ring.

God I hated it when she did that.

"Tell her to warn a person first before she goes all banshee statues," I growled at Eric.

He chuckled repeated it to her.

Connie came in my room and sat on my bed waiting for me.

I looked at her and rolled my eyes at my cell-phone causing her to giggle.

"What?" I asked Eric because I missed what Jay was saying.

"She said to get off and shove it," he repeated, I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah I'll shove it in her mouth," I said.

Connie looked at me with as her jaw dropped.

Oops I forgot I had to be g-rated around her.

"You do know you're on speaker right?" I heard Jay say.

I shrugged and said...

"Doesn't change a thing."

"Whatever jackass. We're outside now. Hurry up. I NEED MY CAFENIE," she screamed again but this time I just hung up.

My friends are just as crazy as my family.

"Come on," I told Connie as I left the room.

We bounced down the stairs.

"I'm leaving," I yelled to whoever was listening.

I heard my dad answer, asking if Connie was with me and I answered yes, rolling my eyes as we made our way to the car.

As we climbed in the back seat Jay turned to look at us.

She looked at me with a big smile.

"Hello fat cow," she yelled in a fake British accent.

"Hello fatter cow," I responded with the same.

"Hey Con Con," Jay said excitedly.

"Hey, Jay," she said smiling brightly.

At least she was happy.

I'm going to have to ask her what happened with Jennifer at some time..

"Hey man," I heard Eric said from the front seat reaching back here to do the guy handshake.

"Hey," I said, back at him.

"Alright. It's time for my daily dose of COFFEE," Jeanine yelled before pealing out of the drive way.

Not long after, we were at Starbucks ordering.

"And you, sir?' the lady asked me.

"I'll have a mocha frap with an extra shot, no whip, please," I said then looked down at Connie.

"What do you want?" I asked her taking out my wallet.

"Same as you," she said walking over to where Eric and J sat as I paid and went to join them.

"So how's life Con Con," Jay asked, taking a sip of her drink.

I don't know how she did it but her coffee was already ready when we got here.

We all gave her a crazy look which resulted in...

"What, I got hook ups bitches..." and sat down enjoyed her crack because that was what coffee was to her.

"Ah. A bummer..." Connie answered.

"Aww, why?" she asked her straw still in her mouth, like a breathing tube or something.

Eric noticed as well and we started cracking up.

She gave us a weird looks before focusing back on Connie.

"Well me and my best friend got in to it on Friday," she muttered.

Now I'm listening.

"Oh and what happened?" Jay asked straw still in her mouth.

"Well I mean we were having a great time, we were watching the new season of vampire diaries and then her cell-phone rang so I grabbed it playing around, you know. But when I saw who was calling. I got mad. I mean why would he call her?"

"Aiden. Connie."

Our names being called interrupted her story.

I quickly got up and grabbed the drinks thanking the lady and heading back.

Handing Connie hers and a straw I went back to focusing on her.

"Thanks," she said to me before continuing.

"So anyway, like I said I was confused as to why he was calling her. So I asked her but she started acting weird and wouldn't look me in the eye, then I just knew. She was going out with Bobby, MY Bobby," she said animated.

She had a scowl on her face.

Then it hit me, she said 'My Bobby.'

She's only fourteen, she doesn't need to be dating.

Or calling them hers.

I mean I'm seventeen and I haven't even been kissed... Don't judge me.

"No. So this bobby guy is like your boyfriend or something?" Jay asked consumed in the story.

"W-well not exactly, it's just that I really like Bobby, ever since fifth grade and here comes Jen trying to steal him from me. She knows how I feel about him," she exclaimed throwing her hands in the air.

I looked over to Eric who was shaking his head at how ridiculous this conversation was.

"So she finally told me that Bobby asked her out and she... said.... yes. So I left and haven't talked her since."

"Well hun let me tell you something," Jay began.

"A boy isn't important enough to ruin your friendship with Jennifer. So here what you do. You go back to your friend's house tell her that what she did was wrong especially if she knew how you felt about it. Then sit down and finish watching vampire diaries because Damen's a sexy beast," she finished... taking a congratulatory sip from her drink.

I shook my head.

"Yeah Con you shouldn't even be thinking about boys in the first place," I told her sternly.

"Your one to talk," she scoffed as she sipped her frappe.

My heart stopped as I realized what she said and who was sitting at the table.

My gaze snapped towards Eric and he had a confused look on his face.

He was frowning at Connie before he turned to me.

I looked to Jay with pleading eyes, she caught it.

"Sooo, E-r-i-c," she said dragging out his name to grab his attention.

"Did you meet any hot girls in Alaska? Oh, wait they were probably all cold weren't they, am I right?" she said raising her hand to him for a high five.

Eric stared at her with wide eyes before busting up.

"Ne-never i-in your l-life say that again," he exclaimed clutching his stomach as he hunched over the table.

"What, I thought it was clean," She grumbled around her straw.

"Yeah but it was so puny," Eric said taking a deep breath.

"No but seriously I didn't know that place was hiding all those furry booted babes, I would have visited my pops a long time ago. Like the time when I found out what my dick could do."

This caused me to choke on my coffee, Connie was hitting my back as hard as she could. It really didn't help.

Once I caught my breath I gave Eric a death glare.

"What?" he asked giving me and innocent look.

"My sister's at the table," I hissed glaring at him.

His mouth formed an 'o' then he grinned sheepishly.

"My bad Con," he said to her and she just waved it off.

"You're such a pig," Jay said taking a swig of her drink.

"Oink, oink baby," he said wiggling his eyes suggestively.

Connie started to laugh at that.

I just shook my head, ever since we had seen that 'Saved by the Bell' episode this is how these conversations ended.

"So Aiden, are you up to going with me next time to my pops so we can wreak havoc on the ladies?' he asked, looking at me intently.

I just laughed nervously.

"Y-yeah, l-let's get in th-those pants," I said awkwardly clearing my throat.

I caught Connie's frowning face.

"What? But I thought you were..." Jay quickly stated coughing loudly causing Eric to pat her back worriedly while I shoved Connie's straw in her mouth.

"Let's not let this go to waste," I said patting her head. I sighed grabbing my coffee.

My hairs going to turn grey before this day even ends.

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jadedhalos · 2 years

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my therapist at this program told me to find the root cause to my abandonment issues .. i was so close to telling her to shove it up her ass . i’m not really in the mood for talking or feeling and that seems to be what everyone wants me to do . i guess it could be a step in the right direction tho . i wanna say my abandonment issues started at 3 years old.. my mom and dad would travel frequently and would leave me and my siblings with various family members for weeks at a time . we would primarily stay with my uncle .. we’re gonna call him “Uncle E “ . That’s when my abuse started . i remember i would wear those disney princess nightgowns … one night we were all watching the movie “aristocrats” and everyone was literally had fell asleep but me and him . he told me to come sit on his lap and i did and thought nothing of it i was a child. So i sat on his lap and that’s when he began to feel on my body and i immediately froze because i knew this was not a way i had ever been touched before , i tried to squirm away and he told to be quiet and not tell anyone out secret . It only got worse as the years went on. The worst was when i was 12 and my body began to develop .. it was like a night before my birthday and we were staying at my their house because my party was gonna be there . Everyone had left to get my surprise for my party and i was left with my uncle . i’d know when he was ready to do the usual by the way he’d look at me and smile.. but this time it was different he approached me and pinned me down and proceeded to kiss me and insert his fingers into me . i screamed in pain and that seemed to make him happier he told me to be quiet and that i was so beautiful . All i could do is silently cry while he went down on me. I’ve had depression since I was 3 years old since this has happened . around this time my parents had already divorced .. another abandonment i will get into further on . i remember i told my mother what had been happening to me crying with tears running down my face and she just looked me blankly in the face and told me that it didn’t happen . i pleaded for her to believe me and that’s when she beat me with an extension cord . after she did this she told my aunt and uncle e and of course uncle e denied it but looking back now i knew they knew he did it by the way they made me promise to keep quiet . That’s when my family abandonment slowly started . I was quickly labeled the liar and i wasn’t invited around my cousins a lot . i eventually gathered enough courage to tell my school therapist . she called the authorities and my uncle was arrested and charged . This was when i was 12 years old mind you . That day I was beat for hours at a time first by mom then by my aunt . They called me every name in the book at 12 years old . I couldn’t go to school for a week because the severity of bruises on my body . That’s the moment i lost my mom forever and what little love she had for me turned into hatred . During this time I’d cry and beg my dad to come see me or let me stay over his house , I never got to tell him about the abuse because my mom would stand near the phone to make sure i didn’t . This when i had father abandonment .. he knew my mom was an alcoholic and would verbally abuse us and hit us .. me getting the worst of it and he did nothing . From my sexual abuse and abandonment from my father turned me into a fear of men . all i wanted at that point was my father to protect me and show me how a man is supposed to love and care for his child . .. but i never recieved that till way later in my life . fast forward to now i still have abandonment issues . i feel like the child in me is still screaming and begging to not be left or thrown away . it makes me naive in a way because i continue to believe people when they say they’d never hurt me.. because i still want to have that glimmer of hope . which is why i’m in the predicament i’m in now . i believed him when he said he’d protect me that he’d never leave .. how could some1 that felt like home to me up and leave me in the cold .

#entry

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comphyjost · 2 years

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👁👁

#he is so dilfy #i literally screamed and was like shoving my phone into my mom’s face and she was like yeah yeah he looks nice leave me alone 😭#jared bednar #colorado avalanche #daddy bedsy #avs cup day

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dadbodosamu · 3 years

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what’s my name? [daddy] || part 2

Stepdad Osamu x Cis!Fem Reader

WARNINGS: pregnancy, degradation, squirting, vomit (nonsexual), cheating, toxic relationship??, age gap (Osamu’s in his thirties and reader is 18), voyeurism, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), cockwarming, exactly one (1) spank, overstimulation, tummy bulge, pseudoincest, mentions of threesome, mentions of double penetration, dacryphilia, breeding?? maybe?, thigh riding

3.6k words

tagging @candy-hime bc i love u bb

part one || part two || part three

You tap your fingernails against the porcelain sink as your phone counts down from five minutes. Each second seems slower than the last and at this point, four minutes and 52 seconds, you’re ready to throw your phone across the room.

“What does it say?” Osamu asks through the door. You want to scream.

“Nothing. It doesn’t say anything yet,” you snap. You take a deep breath and continue. “It takes five minutes. Four and a half minutes left.”

“Can I come in?” He asks, softly.

You hesitate before slowly unlocking the door and letting him in.

The already small bathroom feels that much smaller with Osamu’s large frame in it. You try not to feel claustrophobic as Osamu grabs your hand.

“It’s all going to be okay, no matter what the test says,” he says.

You’re overcome with the urge to laugh, cry, and scream all at once. Of course he thinks it’ll all be okay, he’s not the one possibly pregnant with his step-father’s baby.

Three minutes and 48 seconds.

Your mother was going to be crushed. Her only child, knocked up at eighteen by none other than her step-father.

You bite your lip to hold back tears as you think of your mother.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, pulling you into a tight hug. You want to cringe at his touch but your body instinctively relaxes in his hold.

“Mom…” you say, “she’s going to be crushed.”

“And what about ya? How do ya feel?” He asks.

“Sick,” you answer shortly. “Anxious. Like I’m going to throw up any second now. How could I do this to her?”

Osamu doesn’t respond, just continues to rub your back as the seconds count down.

Your heart stops when your timer goes off.

“It’s ready,” you say, pulling away from Osamu. You grab the pregnancy test and take a deep breath before glancing down at it.

Positive.

You drop the test like it’s bit you. Oh god, it’s positive. You’re pregnant with Osamu’s child.

Osamu picks the test up right as you shove past him to vomit into the toilet.

“Yer pregnant,” he says. You gag. “We’re going to have a baby.”

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve and look at him. His eyes are glossy and his lips are stretched into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen. It makes you want to vomit again.

“Why are you smiling?” You demand. Your throat burns as the acid in your stomach threatens to come up.

“I’m going to have a baby,” he says, grabbing your shoulders. “I’m going to be a father.”

You want to attack him.

“How could you be happy about this?” You hiss. “This is terrible. I don’t want this.”

“That’s not what ya were sayin’ when I was balls deep in yer cunt last night,” Osamu says. “Or any night, for that matter.”

“Do you not care at all what my mom is going to say?” You demand. “Have you thought for one second about anything but yourself? You’re my step-father, for fuck’s sake!”

“That hasn’t stopped ya before,” Osamu says. “I don’t care about that. I care about you and this baby. Our baby.”

Your face softens at his words. “Other people care. My mom’s going to care. She’ll go crazy when we tell her. What if she calls the cops? What are we going to do?”

“What we do isn’t illegal,” Osamu says. “Immoral, maybe. But not illegal.”

“She’s going to hate me,” you whimper. Osamu sighs and pulls you into his chest tightly.

“What do ya want, sweetheart?” He asks, softly. “Daddy has to know what ya want so he can get it for ya.”

“You. I want you,” you say. Osamu squeezes you lightly. “I just want to be with you all the time, daddy.”

“Ya know daddy can’t say no to ya, baby girl,” he says. “We’ll tell yer mom tonight, okay?”

“Everything?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods. “She’ll kick us out. Let’s just tell her I’m pregnant, not everything yet. Let’s just wait.”

“Whatever ya want, baby girl,” Osamu says. “Ya just tell her yer pregnant and I’ll support ya if she gets mad.”

“I need to lay down,” you mumble, pulling away from him. Osamu carefully leads you to your bed, helping you down slowly.

“Can we cuddle, please?” You ask softly.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat first, sweetheart?” He asks. You shake your head.

“Jus’ wan’ you t’ hold me,” you say through a yawn. “Wan’ daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” Osamu says. You move over to make room for his large frame in your small bed. “Daddy’s got you.” He wraps strong arms around you and presses a kiss to your forehead as he holds you tightly.

Your mom comes home to you and Osamu on the couch, you with your head casually in Osamu’s lap as he combed his fingers through your hair. This wasn’t an uncommon sight, and your mom went straight into telling the two of you about her day.

“This patient was crazy, literally! He’s outside smoking a cigarette, meanwhile his blood sugar is through the roof! Like, this man is dead, he just doesn’t know it yet!” Your mom exclaims, slamming the door behind her.

“Hey, mom,” you greet, sitting upright. “Dinner’s ready whenever you want to eat.”

“We decided to wait on ya tonight,” Osamu added, standing up with a stretch.

“You two are too sweet,” she says, smiling widely. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know I’m okay eating alone.”

“Well, I have some big news for after dinner, so I convinced Daddy to wait,” you say.

“Ooo, sounds exciting! Well, let’s eat so you can share your news!” Your mom says, excitedly.

The table is already set perfectly, plates of your mom’s favourites filling empty spaces and a bottle of her favourite wine in the center.

“Goodness! All my favourites? Y/n, you’re not trying to butter me up, are you? I’d almost think you were going to tell me you’re pregnant or something,” she says, taking a seat.

You and Osamu both let out forced laughter as you join her.

“It’s just what you deserve, Mom,” you say.

“Well, thank you, sweet pea,” she says, beaming at you. “And thank you, too, Osamu. I’m sure you cooked most of this.”

“It’s no problem,” Osamu says. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

“Itadakimasu.”

The three of you fill your plates and glasses, you pointedly turning down the wine your mom offers you. She gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything.

“So, what’s the news?” Your mom asks as she finishes her last onigiri.

You glance at Osamu.

“Mom, I’m pregnant,” you say.

“Pregnant?” Your mom asks. “Goodness, I-I need a minute.”

She steps out the back door, sliding the door shut behind her.

Osamu looks over at you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks. You nod.

“She’s handling it better than I thought,” you say. “I thought I’d be packing my bag right about now. I think I’m going to step outside with her.”

Osamu kisses your forehead before letting you walk out the back door.

Your mom is sitting on the porch swing, face in her hands.

“Mom?” You call. When she looks up, you can tell she’s been crying.

“How did this happen?” She asks.

“Didn’t think I’d have to explain the birds and the bees to you, Mom,” you tease, halfheartedly.

“Do you have some secret boyfriend I don’t know about?” She asks, ignoring you.

“It was just some dumb, one night stand,” you say, sitting next to her. “Hell, I can barely remember the guy’s face.”

The lies slip off your tongue easier than they would’ve before you and Osamu became involved. You think of every night you’d said you were staying with friends when you were really in some cheap motel with Osamu and wince.

“What’s his name?” Your mom asks.

“Does it matter?” You ask. “He won’t be involved at all.”

“Do you even know his name? God, I didn’t think you’d be so dumb,” your mom says. Her words hit like a punch to the gut.

“It was…” you hesitate. “It was a mistake.” As if anything you and Osamu had done was a mistake. The words taste like bile in your throat. “A dumb mistake.”

“We taught you better than to just sleep with random people. Or at least, I thought we did,” she spits. “At least let me know the name.”

“I’m not going to apologise for being human,” you say. “And I won’t be telling you the name.”

“You’ll tell me or you’ll leave,” she says. Her threat rolls off of you like water.

“Then I’ll leave,” you say, standing up. You open the back door.

“If you leave, don’t come back!” Your mom exclaims.

“Gladly!” You shoot back. You slam the door behind you. Osamu is immediately at your side.

“I’m leaving!” You exclaim. “I should just tell her the full truth, see how she likes that! She couldn’t blame me for it, after all, I’m too dumb!”

“The full truth?” Your mom asks, sliding the door open.

You turn on your heel to face her as Osamu stands between you two, ready for a fight to break out.

“Oh, you’d fucking hate it,” you taunt, crossing your arms. “It’s dirty and perverted and so fucking good!”

“You probably got knocked up by some pervert on the streets! That’s why you won’t tell me his name, you probably don’t even know it!”

“Miya Osamu!”

All three of you freeze.

“Huh?” Your mom blinks slowly. She looks at Osamu, then at you. “The. Two. Of. You? The father?”

Your mom seems to buffer as she continuously looks between you two.

“Get out.”

“Mom, wait, I can explain,” you beg, grabbing her hands. She jerks away from you. “I didn’t mean it!”

“You’re sick,” she says, lip curling. Her face pales as she looks at Osamu. “You raised her, you bastard! From a little girl! Oh my- oh my god, she calls you ‘daddy’.” Your mom’s face turns a sickening green. “You get off on that, don’t you, you sick fuck?! My daughter!”

“Mom, it’s not like-“ She cuts you off.

“Y/n, did he force you? Has he been grooming you this whole time?” She turns to face Osamu again. “Get out of here, you motherfucker!”

“Mom, I love him!” You shout. She freezes and robotically turns towards you.

“He raised you,” she whimpers. “He’s probably been grooming you since the day you met.”

“Mom, he’s never done anything I didn’t want,” you say. “I’m the one that controls the relationship.”

“I love her, too,” Osamu says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I know it’s sick, but I can’t help it.”

Your mom stays silent for a moment.

“I need you both out,” she says. “You can pack a bag but you both need to be out within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Mom, I’m sorry,” you say, wiping away a stray tear. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Give me time,” she says before retreating to her bedroom.

You sniffle as you wipe your face with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you a bag packed. Atsumu already has his guest room set up for us. We’ll be okay, baby,” Osamu says, holding your shoulders. He kisses your forehead before leading you to your room.

Your mom doesn’t reappear until Osamu is already carrying your bag to the car.

“You’re my daughter, and I’ll always love you, Y/n,” she says, standing across the room from you. “But this isn’t something that we’ll be able to overcome. You and Osamu can get the rest of your things tomorrow while I’m at work, but I don’t want to see either of you again. Leave your keys on the table when you leave.”

“I’m sorry this happened,” you say, unable to stop your tears. “I really am, Mom. If I could change it, I would. I love you.”

“I hope you find happiness,” she says. Osamu’s hands land on your shoulders from behind and your mom’s face crumbles. “Goodbye.”

She watches you and Osamu leave the house. The lock clicks behind you as soon as the door closes.

“I wish this hadn’t happened like this,” Osamu says as he starts the car. You nod.

“I didn’t want to tell her like this,” you mumble. “She deserved the truth, but not like this.”

“I love you,” Osamu says, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“I love you,” you say, smiling sadly. “I guess I wouldn’t change it if that meant not having you.”

Atsumu’s apartment is much smaller than your mom’s house.

“There’s my favourite niece!” Atsumu exclaims, hugging you tightly and spinning you around before placing you back on the ground. “Or my favourite sister-in-law? I don’t care, yer my favourite girl.”

Despite how sad you feel, Atsumu manages to pull a genuine smile and laugh out of you.

“Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim as Osamu passes you with your bags.

“Ah, so I still get to be Uncle,” he says, smiling. It doesn’t shock you with how nonchalantly Atsumu takes the news.

“Of course,” you say. “If Daddy still gets to be Daddy, you’re still Uncle.”

“Come on in, little one, let’s get ya out of the night air before the bugs get ya,” Atsumu says, leading you in.

Osamu already had your pajamas in hand when you walked in. After showering and changing quickly, you join the twins on the couch, squeezing in between them. Your hand ghosts over Osamu’s thigh before he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers.

“So… I think it’s gonna to be a girl,” Atsumu says, draping his arm across your shoulders. “Any bets?”

“With our luck?” Osamu chuckles. “Twin boys.”

You rub your hand over your stomach. “I don’t really care one way or the other,” you say. “But I want twins.”

“What do ya think it’ll be?” Osamu asks.

“I think maybe one of each,” you say. “But that might just be wishful thinking.”

Atsumu let out a loud yawn.

“Well, it’s time for me to go to bed. I have practice in the morning. Help yerselves to anything in the fridge,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Let me know if ya need anything, little one.”

“Thanks for letting us stay here, Uncle Tsumu,” you say.

“Anything fer my favourite girl,” he says. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “G’night, little one.”

“Night,” Osamu says.

“Good night, Tsumu,” you say. Atsumu stumbles away with another yawn, leaving you and Osamu in the television-lit living room alone.

You climb into Osamu’s lap as soon as you hear Atsumu’s door click closed. He wraps his arms around you firmly and looks down at you.

“What do ya need, baby?” Osamu asks. “I know yer wantin’ something, baby girl.”

“I’m so tired, Daddy,” you say. You let out a small yawn. “I just want to be close to you.” You innocently shift in his hold, grinding against his soft dick. It twitches lightly.

“Ya wanna sit on Daddy’s cock, huh? Is that what ya want, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, rolling his hips. His cock hardens under you almost instantly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan softly. “Want your cock in me.”

“Yer such a naughty girl,” Osamu says. “Wantin’ yer daddy’s cock where Uncle Tsumu could walk in any minute.” You let out a small moan at the thought. “Oh? Ya want Uncle Tsumu to catch us? Want him to see Daddy filling up yer cute, little cunt? Or maybe you want Tsumu to fill ya up, huh, baby girl? Both of us at the same time, fillin’ both yer little holes so well.”

“Please, please,” you gasp, grinding against his thighs. “Wanna be full. So full, Daddy, please.”

“Such a little slut,” Osamu says, guiding your hips. “It’s not enough to fuck yer daddy, you wanna fuck yer uncle, too? Just tryin’ to get the whole family, huh?”

You nod. “Want Daddy and Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim. Osamu claps a hand over your mouth.

“Uncle Tsumu is bein’ so nice t’ let us stay here and you wanna wake him up? I thought my little girl knew how to be polite,” Osamu says. Your thighs shake as a knot forms in your stomach.

“Daddy,” you whine, rolling your hips faster. “Close.”

“Is my baby gonna cum on Daddy’s thigh like a bitch in heat?” Osamu coos. “Come on, baby, cum on Daddy’s thigh like a good girl.”

“Daddy,” you moan. Osamu kisses you hard as you moan louder.

“Fuck, yer soakin’ me, sweetheart,” Osamu breathes as you cum on his thighs. You bite your lip to keep quiet. “Ya want Daddy’s cock now, sweetie?”

You nod. You stand on wobbly legs to kick your pajama shorts and panties off as Osamu pushes his shorts down just enough to reveal his heavy cock.

“Daddy, I wanna taste you,” you say, falling to your knees in front of him. “Please, Daddy, you look so good.”

“Go ahead, baby,” he says, patting your hair as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock.

You lean down to lick along the throbbing vein that runs down the left side of his cock before you take the purpling tip into your mouth.

“Fuck, good girl,” he hisses, tangling his fingers in your hair. He isn’t pushing down (yet), but his hands left no room to pull back. You circled the tip, moaning as a spurt of precum landed on your tongue.

“Come on, suck it like a good girl,” he grunts, forcing your head lower. You gag as he hits the back of your throat and Osamu lets out a long, low moan. “Might just fuck yer face since ya can’t listen.”

You place your hands on either of his thighs, signaling for him to go ahead with his plan.

“Oh, yer such a good girl for Daddy,” he groans. He holds your head in place as he thrusts into your open mouth, moaning when your throat tightens around his length.

“Fuck, so good,” he grits out. He pulls your head back and moans at the sight of your swollen lips and glassy eyes. “Tongue out.” Your jaw drops and your tongue lols out. He pats his cock against your tongue seconds before cum spurts out, landing on your lips and in your open mouth.

“Swallow for me, sweetheart,” he moans. You swallow the cum in your mouth before licking your lips for the extra that didn’t quite make it in your mouth.

“Wan’ your cock, please, Daddy,” you whine as Osamu wipes cum off your chin. He sticks his cum-coated thumb in your mouth and you suck it clean.

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu grunts, lifting you up into his lap. He slowly inched you down on his cock.

“More, Daddy, more,” you beg as he slowly bottoms out. “Fuck me.”

“Be good and sit on Daddy’s cock for a minute,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. He pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head.

You whine as you squirm around, trying to get Osamu to finally fuck you. He slaps your ass as you fidget.

“The more ya move, the longer we’ll stay like this,” Osamu says. “Now be good and be still.”

You pout as you relax into Osamu’s chest. It was agonising as his cock stretched you. Your walls were throbbing and fluttering around him, desperate for even the smallest movement.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I need you.”

Osamu presses down on your lower stomach where his cock was deep inside you. You moaned.

“Feel how deep Daddy is?” He breathes, thumb circling your clit. “Look how swollen ya look with just my cock. In a few weeks, you’ll be swollen with my baby.”

You moan. Osamu’s thumb moves faster on your clit.

“Daddy,” you whine. “I-I feel weird.”

“Hold on just a second, baby,” Osamu says. You gasp as he presses on your clit. The feeling in the pit of your stomach heightens. You almost feel like you’re going to explode.

You open your mouth to tell Osamu when he rolls his hips. You let out a loud moan as your juices squirt out, soaking Osamu’s shorts and part of his shirt.

“Fuck, look how messy ya are,” Osamu growls. You moan loudly as your pussy gushes again and you fall limp into Osamu’s chest, tears streaming down your face.

“Squirted all over Daddy like a good girl,” Osamu praises. His thumb hasn’t stopped and you still haven’t stopped cumming on his cock.

“Fuck,” Osamu growls. He grips your hips tightly and fucks into you roughly.

Your skin burns where his slaps against yours. You cry out as your head falls against his shoulder.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he grunts. The nasty squelching sounds only highlight his words. You moan as Osamu plays with your overstimulated clit.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you cry as he fucks you.

“Open,” He orders. Your mouth drops open without a second thought as he shoves wet fingers down your throat. You gag as you suck on them. “Good girl.”

Tears stroll down your face as Osamu relentlessly thrusts into your cunt.

“Gonna fill yer sloppy, little, cunt up,” Osamu grunts. Your walls clench around him. “Oh, Daddy’s messy slut likes that, huh?” Your walls clench again.

“Fuck, gonna fill ya up,” he groans. His cock twitches deep inside you seconds before he cums.

“So good, daddy,” you moan as you ride him through his orgasm.

Osamu hisses once you’ve milked him dry, overstimulated and sensitive.

“How’d’ya like the show, Tsumu?” Osamu asks.

Your head jerks around to see Atsumu standing across the room, dick hard and heavy in his hands.

“Oh, it was great,” Atsumu says. “Liked that part at the beginning. Something about taking us both at the same time?”

#samu thoughts #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya smut #miya osamu #cai writes #timeskip osamu #timeskip miya osamu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu imagines #wmn?d

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sundaysundaes · 4 years

Text

Drunk Antics

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 5.8k | College AU

Summary: After being caught having sex with your previously virgin boyfriend, you thought Mark and your brother Johnny would never get along. That is until your boy comes back to your room in the drunkest state he’s ever been after a short trip to the bar with his Johnny-hyung, asking you to try new tricks he’s learned from the Master of Sex.

Sort of a continuation from Our First Time but can be read separately.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, drunk unprotected sex. For the sake of the very little plot there is, Mark is intoxicated in this fic so his consent may be unclear. Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

“You forgot that you borrowed his AirPods?!” Your boyfriend is shrieking in whispers, doe eyes shaking in fear and horror as he kneels on your bed, trying to shamelessly hog every inch of your blanket to cover his body.

Mark is so drowning in panic that he doesn’t even notice that you, in fact, are still naked. “I was going to use them before to work on my assignment,” you try to reason, “but then you came so I kind of forgot about them.”

“Kind of?!” He screeches. “I agreed to have sex with you because I thought you were sure that he had his AirPods on!”

You stare at him flatly. “You’re making me feel like I just took advantage of you.”

“I am feeling like you just took advantage of me!”

“You just lost your virginity, I think you have to thank me instead.”

“Babe,” Mark grabs both of your shoulders, staring with wide eyes as if there’s a ghost lurking behind your back but he’s trying his best to calm you down (though he’s pretty much shitting his own pants). “You should’ve remembered that you took his AirPods. He heard us.”

“Mark,” you imitate his tone mockingly, taking a hold of his shoulders in the same manner. “It would’ve been super weird if I thought about my brother when I have my hot boyfriend rubbing his dick against my ass.”

Distracted, a sheepish smile forms on his face. “You think I’m hot?” But he shakes himself awake on the next second, going back to yanking out his hair with both hands. “No, wait—what am I going to do—your brother heard us having sex—I can’t—”

“I heard my brother having sex all the time.” You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes even when he’s alone in his room, which is gross.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—”

“Guys?” Johnny’s knocks on the door are becoming more impatient. “I swear to God, if you two go back to sucking each other off, I’m going to throw Mark under the bus and run him over myself.“

Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Did you hear that?!”

You roll your eyes in response, reaching out to the table beside your bed and snatch Johnny’s AirPods from inside the drawer. “Here,” you hand it over to Mark.

Your boyfriend reacts as if you just handed him a bowl of hot lava and he fumbles with his hands, shoving the AirPods back to you with so much horror in his eyes. “Why are you giving me this—no—no—”

“Mark, honey.” You gently smile, pushing the thing back in the most motherly way you can manage. “I’m covered in cum—your cum, in case you forgot—and you’re hogging all the blanket—“

“No—”

“Also, I’m sweaty and gross. Can you please be a man for once and let me take my shower? You can still join me afterward.”

“Babe!” You can tell he’s about to throw up out of fear but he’s just so cute, you can’t help but keep teasing him about it. “This is not fair—he’s going to kill me! And what do you mean ‘for once’, am I—“

“Okay, guys, any day now.” Your brother, Johnny, calls again from the other side of the door. “If one of you don’t come out and hand me back my AirPods in the next ten seconds, I am literally going to call the police.”

Mark nearly jumps out of his own skin. “What?!”

“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” you shout back, mouthing calming words to your boyfriend who looks like he’s seconds away from fainting. “You’re not going to do that and we both know it!”

“But I am going to call our Mom.”

“That he might do,” you say, wincing a little at Mark. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You lean forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Good luck, babe.” And you sprint off to the bathroom inside your room, all while holding out your best not to cackle loudly.

“Where are you going—Baby, get back here!” You can hear Mark protesting in whispers, but you just send him flying kisses and a wink, and shut the bathroom door behind you.

Mark’s soul is leaving his body, he can feel it. And that’s okay, because Johnny is going to kill him anyway. But when the older man really starts to count to ten, Mark jumps out of the bed, tripping approximately three times as he tries his best to dress himself back in his own clothes while muttering the words “shit” and “fuck” repetitively under his breath.

When he’s sure he looks less fucked than before, Mark opens the door, breathing hard as if he just did the worst workout in his life.

“H-hey,” Mark starts, attempting to throw his best look-at-me-I’m-a-good-boy-who-did-not-just-fuck-your-sister-when-you-were-around smile at the other man. “How’s it going, man?” His voice breaks in the middle of his line and he winces as he tries to calculate the least painful death options he can commit.

Johnny unenthusiastically gazes back at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m… smiling at you?”

“Don’t. You look like a serial killer.”

“S-sorry, I’m—“ Mark’s eyes start searching everywhere but Johnny’s eyes as he feels his own feet turning into jelly. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?” Johnny places his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, looking way too intimidating for your boyfriend to handle. “Because you just had sex with my sister while I’m in the house?”

Mark’s jaw is almost dislocating from his face from how wide he opens his mouth. “I—I, umm—“ He clears his throat, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. “S-so, you really heard us, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, which he soon regrets from the way Johnny’s eyes are throwing daggers at him.

“Yeah, well,” Johnny shrugs, “My ears don’t have on-and-off buttons that I can switch whenever I want. I used to have my AirPods to do that job, but she borrowed them to help her concentrate while doing her assignment.” He gives out a sly grin, almost mockingly. “Little did I know that her assignment was you.”

If he didn’t feel like dying before, Mark is sure as hell feeling it now. “I’m so sorry—I swear, she told me you had them—I also thought you were downstairs—“

“Yeah, I do go upstairs from time to time, you know, ‘cause my room is over there,” he dully replies, nudging his head to the end of the corridor, where his room is located next to yours.

Mark’s entire body shudders in horror. “Dude, I didn’t know—I thought that was a storage room—oh God—”

“Don’t call me dude. I’m not your dude.”

“Fuck—sorry, you’re right—I’m—“ He’s hyperventilating by this point. “Is there any place in this house where I can kill myself?”

“You can try jumping off my balcony,” Johnny answers in the most casual way that Mark begins to question whether he’s really being serious about it.

“G-great, I’ll put that in my options,” is all Mark has to say. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny yawns, offering one hand to the other man which Mark stupidly enough stares in confusion before he takes a hold of it and gives it a sweaty handshake. Johnny switches his gaze from Mark’s face to their hands before he brings back to stare at him straight in the eyes and says, “My AirPods, you idiot.”

“FUCK—“ Mark is so embarrassed that he stumbles on his feet, knocks the side of his head against the door frame, and does a silent scream when the pain jolts to his entire body.

“Man, I wish I had my phone ready to record all of that,” Johnny comments.

Mark is too much in pain to recognize his mumbling. He fumbles with the AirPods in his hand, shoving them to Johnny’s chest. “Shit, I don’t know why I thought you wanted a handshake—here—oh my God—I’m so sorry—“

Even Johnny seems a little bit amused at his antics by this point. “Thanks,” he says, tucking the AirPods inside the pocket of his jeans. “You have some time to spare?”

Mark gulps. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Not until the end of the day.” Johnny says, and Mark laughs a little bit too loud and a little bit too hard and by the way Johnny smiles, he still can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “Come on, let’s go have a drink.”

“Umm I-I don’t think I should—“

“Not a request, Mark.”

“Yes sir, on my way!” And he knocks himself once again against the door frame as he rushes forward to follow his steps.

“Also, Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

***

“Mark?” Your voice is answered by the silence of your room. You’re feeling a little bit dizzy from the hot shower you just took. You took a bit long in the bathroom, waiting for Mark to come and join you with a cute pout on his lips and tears in his eyes (that’s how you imagined him to be anyway) but your boyfriend, it turns out, was not even in your room. You put on your clothes—a knitted navy blue sweater with sleeves a little bit too long for your arms and a simple pair of jeans—and head downstairs, searching your house but nobody comes to answer. Sighing, you go back to your room and try to call his cellphone but immediately feel disappointed when his ringtone comes from under the bed.

“Great, he forgot his cellphone,” you mutter to yourself, picking his phone up and throws it on the bed. “Did he really run home without telling me?” The image of Mark panicking and running away from your house like his life depends on it sure does look like it’s something he does out of shame. But judging by how great your previous sex activity was, you figure that he’s probably going to go back to you sooner or later. He also has his phone to retrieve anyway.

So it’s time for you to actually get some work done. There’s no other reason for you to run away from your goddamn thesis and the day is getting late. After having some ramyun for dinner, you finally begin working on your assignment.

It’s hard to start, but a few minutes after you get your head to it, you start losing track of time. You’re finally done with your work (most of it anyway), already closing your laptop and place it back on your backpack, when your door abruptly swings open, showing your boyfriend’s face with the biggest grin on his face.

“Baby, I’m home,” he says in a sing-song voice, a bit slurry and a little high pitched. Before you can say anything—too busy trying to figure out how high he is judging from the dopey look on his face—Mark is giggling and walks closer to you. “You know,” he says, placing a hand on your desk and leaning close enough for you to know that he reeks of alcohol. “I just had the greatest day of my life today. And it’s all because. of. you.” He pokes your nose repetitively between every word.

“Mark—“

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you want some pancakes, because man, I’d love some pancakes—“

“What, are you drunk?” The answer is obvious but you ask anyway.

“No, I’m Mark.” He grins, chuckling at his lousy joke.

“You are so drunk.”

“And you,” he snickers, pinching one of your cheeks, “are so cute~”

You swat his hand away. “Where have you been?”

“I went to a bar with your brother,” he giggles again, playfully massaging your shoulders. “He’s so coooool~”

“What?!”

“Yeah, he’s, like, so tall and, like, so fit.” You can’t believe you’re hearing your boyfriend fangirling over your brother. “And he knows a lot of stuff—like, a lot a lot.”

You certainly have to kick Johnny in the shins after this. “How—why—I thought you were—“

“Babe, you’re rambling.”

You can’t believe you’re turning into him, so you clear your throat and try again. “How drunk are you exactly?”

“Drunk enough to know that this,” he stops to pick up the fishbowl you placed on the bedside table—where Marky the Goldfish is sleeping with its eyes open—and lifts it up to his face, “water cannot be drunk but drunk enough to contemplate about doing it.”

You make a face. “Leave Marky alone.”

“Why did you name it after me?”

“Because it’s dumb. Like you.”

“Huh, can’t really argue with that.” He snorts, placing the fishbowl back to the table and tripping on his feet as he does so—spilling some water from the side but thank God, your fish is safe and alive, though probably also a little bit drunk because of that sudden… turbulence.

“Oops,” he giggles, “Sorry, Marky.” He doesn’t look regretful in the slightest. You stare at him in silence, unconsciously judging him with all you have and usually, he would start becoming nervous and fumbling with his words but now, he just looks at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and rushes forward.

“Man, I love you.” He tackles you into a hug, almost sending you toppling down your chair, “I love you so much. Have I said that today?”

This is certainly not the way you imagined your first confession to be like, especially coming from Mark who’s usually shy and too childish to admit his feelings. “No, you haven’t,” you retort. “Ever.”

“What, really?” His eyes are perfectly round and wide, actually surprised about it. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulls you up to your feet, cradling you into his arms, hands flailing all over your body before they finally rest on your waist. “I can’t believe we had sex and I didn’t even tell you that. I’m so sorry.” He leans back, putting some space between you so he can stare directly into your eyes. “I love you. I’ve always been for a while. I’m so in love with you that I can barely concentrate whenever you’re around.”

You wish he wasn’t drunk out of his mind because those words, those lines, could have been so romantic but even though he looks romantic, you’re not sure whether he’s being one hundred percent conscious about it.

“Okay, let’s talk about this again when you’re sober.” You tap his cheek with one hand and pinch it when he whines. “Have you even taken a shower yet?”

“Yeah, this morning.” He smiles dreamily at you, kissing the inside of your palm. You can’t believe how bold and greasy he becomes when he’s drunk. “And yesterday. And the day before that. And—”

“Okaaaay.” You shut him up by placing your hand above his mouth, which he licks like a little puppy, earning a surprised yelp from you. “Mark!”

“Babe!” He imitates before throwing himself to the bed, laughing at your face. “Come here, join me in my bed.”

“That’s my bed.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think you can go home at this state. Your mom would kill me.”

“But I’m already home,” he says, crawling toward you until he kneels at the edge of the bed, face to face with you. “Home is wherever the heart is, right? And my heart is with you.”

You curse yourself inwardly for having your heart flutter at his embarrassing line and you hate yourself even more when he notices you’re blushing.

“Whatever. Just take a shower and get some sleep.” You walk back to your desk, flipping around the pages of your textbook. “I still have two chapters to read.”

You can hear your boyfriend huffing behind you, but try your best to ignore him. It’s an impossible feat, it turns out, when Mark sneaks up behind you, circling his arms around your shoulders and peppers few kisses down the side of your neck.

“Mark—“

“You smell so good.” He inhales deeply, burying his nose in the strands of your hair. Standing up, you turn around to face him so you can protest and push him away but the look on his face makes you freeze.

“You’re so cute,” he says, running his hand up from the curve of your neck to cup your cheek. “And You’re so pretty. And hot. You’re so…” He begins staring at your lips, eyes unfocused. “Hot.”

You can tell it’s coming but when he kisses you, almost hungrily, it feels like he’s snatching your breath away. “Mark, wait—”

“Not waiting,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling your hand over his shoulder so you’re forced to lean your entire weight against his chest. Mark’s calloused hands travel down your body, wrapping both against the back of your thighs and lifts them up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You follow his lead though still not entirely convinced that you should continue this.

Mark kicks your sliding chair away with one leg and places you down on your desk. He roughly pushes all your papers and textbooks to the end of the table, making enough space where you can sit facing him, with your legs tangling around his waist.

You have spent a decent amount of time kissing Mark over the months you’ve been dating, but only now that you have the chance to kiss him when he’s drunk and you’re aware just how much you’ve been missing.

The drunk version of Mark Lee unexpectedly kisses much more slowly compared to the sober version of Mark Lee, and if you thought fast, passionate kisses were hot, then these slow, deep kisses are sending actual shivers down your spine.

Mark has his right hand cupping your cheek, rubbing comforting circles on your skin with his thumb, while his other one is around your waist, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater. He angles your head to the side, and his parting lips fit like a perfect puzzle piece with yours. There’s a shy trace of his tongue along your bottom lip, as he nibbles at it slowly and he lets out this small moan as he does it as if it’s something he’s been wanting to do for years and just finally able to do it now.

He tastes like alcohol and you’re not particularly fond of it but the more he kisses you, the more you think it doesn’t matter because he still somewhat tastes like how Mark usually does and you always love the way he tastes on your tongue.

He drags your chin down with his thumb, tasting you a little bit deeper and as he presses his hips against yours, his breathing becomes ragged and you just realize that you probably have a kink for all of this stuff because holy mother of God, this is just so hot.

“Mark,” you sigh as he moves away to kiss your ear, warm lips pressing against your earlobe. He hums in a low, breathy voice that you’ve never heard him do and it makes your stomach flip. “Mark, you’re drunk.” It’s more like a reminder to yourself because you know that as the sober one, you have to put a stop to this but what can you do when he has his tongue tracing against your skin and his soft moans vibrating through your ears?

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away a little so you can see his eyes and fuck, it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made today—bigger than forgetting that you borrowed Johnny’s AirPods. His eyes are half-lidded, utterly filled with lust and the way he licks his bottom lip as he stares at you has you breathless. He leans closer, as if he’s about to kiss you again, and whispers, “Don’t you want me?”

You remember that you said the same thing earlier to him that day and it makes you think how karma is a fucking bitch. You secretly wonder whether you have the same effect on him because Mark is being so irresistible right now and he successfully makes you throw all of your reasoning to the back of your head.

“Fuck this,” you claim under your breath, pulling him down to you by the neck and crush your mouth together. You can feel your boyfriend smiling into the kiss, and the sounds of your wet kisses make your heartbeat go crazy.

“Take off your shirt,” you command, already grabbing the end of his shirt and struggling as you try to pull it over his head. Mark helps, chuckling a little bit and when it’s off, he has his lips against your neck again. His teeth are prickling against your skin, sucking it until it’s bruised and you have to remind yourself to be angry about it later—because you have classes tomorrow and what if anyone sees that nasty hickey on your neck?—but right now, you just want him to mark you over and over again.

Mark starts to unbutton your jeans, pulling the zipper down and you use your free hand and legs to shake your pants off. It’s not easy, and you almost kick your boyfriend in the face while doing so, but he laughs it off and kisses you again. You can tell how hard he is when he presses himself against you, and you’re eager to put him out of his misery but he suddenly pulls away, saying, “Wait, let me do this first,” and he kneels on the floor, his face right between your legs.

You can feel your breath hitched when he runs his fingers on the inside part of your thighs, his lips follow soon after. He slips his fingers around the edge of your panties and pulls them down. You suddenly feel so exposed to the way he’s looking at you so you pull the end of your sweater down, trying to cover your thighs as much as you can.

“Why are you so shy?” Mark says, taking your hand away and pressing his lips against your palm. His eyes never leave yours and they twinkle in the most teasing way. “You weren’t shy about this before.”

“Stop looking at it too much,” you reply nervously, can’t help but to blush about it. “I feel weird.”

Mark chuckles, airily and soft. “Sorry, I just didn’t have the chance to really see you before,” he explains, one hand unconsciously rubbing your thigh, trying to calm you down. “Can I eat you out?”

Sober Mark will definitely not say anything like this—hell, sober Mark will probably faint just thinking about saying stuff like this—which is why you’re becoming even more nervous and excited at the same time.

“Baby?” Mark calls, smiling softly. “I kind of asked you a question.”

Fuck me. “Yes,” you breathe out, and you realize he was just messing with you before but who the fuck cares right now.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mark, please.” You can hear yourself whining and you hate yourself for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Please eat me out, Mark.”

He smiles in the sexiest way that you don’t think it’s possible—like seriously, who is this guy?—biting his lower lip as he does so and if he keeps doing that, you figure he doesn’t even have to eat you out to make you come undone.

He presses his lips near your heat, whispering, “Good girl,” before he places his mouth on the exact spot you want him to be.

“Fuck,” you hiss, biting your own lip as you see his head move between your legs. Mark has his eyes closed, repeating what he has learned earlier that day and does the thing you like the most. When he locks his eyes with yours, you almost choke out a sob.

“Mark,” you try to keep your voice down in whispers but Mark is so good that it feels much easier to work on your goddamn stupid thesis rather than holding back your moan.

“Mmm.” The way he moans at the back of his throat as if he’s having the best time of his life makes you weak and you press your thighs together without knowing. Mark places his hands on each side of your thighs and spreads your legs wide apart, allowing himself to be even closer and making you feel way more exposed. You have to grip your desk with both hands to keep yourself from falling.

“Okay, no, stop—“ You find yourself breathing hard, pushing him back by the shoulder and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Was it not good?” He asks and you curse inwardly.

“Mark,” You grab him by the silver necklace he has around his neck, pulling him up so you’re face-to-face. “I’m about to come, what do you think?”

“Really?” He looks impressed with himself. “Then, why did you stop me?”

You tangle your legs around his waist, bringing him close and grind your hips against his. “You know why.”

Mark’s thin lips part in a silent moan, whispering, “Fuck,” under his breath but he tries to keep his composure. “No, I don’t,” he says, teasing you though he doesn’t look like he’s able to hold himself back long. “Babe, I literally just lost my virginity a few hours ago. You have to tell me what you want.”

“Mark.”

“Babe.”

You scowl at him and scowl harder when he has this shit-eating grin on his face, and if your eyes could throw daggers, he’d be in so much pain right now. But Mark is making a sound between a giggle and a snort, which is rather cute but you still kick him in the stomach for playing with you at a time like this. “Mark, come on! I want you to fuck me!”

He takes a hold of your thigh, leaning down to place kisses under your ear. “And where do you want me to fuck you, exactly?” He whispers, purposely making an mmm sound as he sucks on your earlobe. “Should we move to the bed?”

“No, fuck, just do it here.” You unbuckle his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer down to around his thighs, low enough for you to stroke his member and position it toward your entrance. “Mark, just put your cock inside me.”

It seems like he’s beginning to lose his mind over how desperate you are actually begging him. You guide him toward you, making sure he’s not doing anything wrong and when he pushes inside, you just have to bite on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes closing shut as he grips on your thighs, nails sinking into the skin almost painfully. “I couldn’t remember whether you were you this tight before but—oh God—”

His movements are still a bit sloppy, but soon he finds the pace you both like and maintains it. When he sees you throwing your head back in pleasure, he grins to himself and lifts your sweater up to your chest. You help him take it off, unclasping your bra with so much effort as he continues pounding into you.

He’s so consumed by the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down matching his thrusts until he can’t take it anymore. “Babe, can I go a little bit rough?”

“Wha—fuck!” It’s your luck that you don’t slam your head against the wall from the sudden force Mark is thrusting into you. He has his mouth on your breast, moving his hips much quicker than before, and moaning your name several times under his breath. The desk is clearly making a sound as it bumps against the wall but you don’t care—your parents are out of town and Johnny already heard you two before anyway. You can just apologize to him tomorrow.

Mark suddenly changes position, lifting one of your legs up in the air while keeping the other down so he can slide in deeper. “Johnny-hyung told me to try this,” he says with a smirk on his face. He’s breathing quite hard, just like you. He kisses the side of your ankle once before he lays your leg on his shoulder. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

When he moves his hips again, with so much force that you have to hold on to the table, you’re pretty much just screaming his name. Mark’s bangs are sticking to his skin as beads of sweat start to form on his temple, and he pushes his hair back with one hand, chanting your name like a prayer and recording every expression you make in his mind.

You can handle his movements but you’re sure the skin around your waist is going to bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. You’re getting distracted by the way the muscles on his abs flex with every movement that it catches you off guard when he suddenly says, “I love you,” between his soft moans. You shudder at his words, leaning forward to wrap your fingers around his arm, begging for support. “Mark, you’re not fair—“ The rest of your sentence dies when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

It’s a little bit embarrassing for you, the much more experienced one, to come undone before he does but Mark doesn’t stop, even if you beg him to. “Hold on to me,” he says, smashing his lips against yours and adding, “Just a little bit more, baby,” between kisses.

When he’s finished, your back and legs are aching so much that he has to carry you onto the bed. Mark shakes his pants off before he slides under the blanket next to you. He asks whether you want to shower and you shake your head. “Tomorrow. I can barely stand right now, to be honest,” you comment which earns a light chuckle from him.

You both sigh out loud, staring at the ceiling and trying the process what the fuck just happened.

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I know it’s bad for your health, but do you think you can get drunk more often?”

He giggles at that, turning to his side so he can face you. He looks so sleepy and you let him caress your face with his fingers with the little energy he has left. “Thank you for today,” he says, smiling dreamily. He leans closer to press your temples together, rubbing the tip of his nose to yours in a childish manner before he kisses you softly. He drifts off to sleep soon after.

When you wake up the next morning, still naked and gross from the night before, you realize that yes, small purplish bruises are forming on the skin of your thighs, waist and for sure, your neck. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend still sleeping soundly with his stomach pressed against your bed and his lips slightly parted. You don’t have the heart to wake him up, but your parents can come home anytime soon and they cannot catch the two of you looking like this.

“Mark,” you softly call, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Mark, wake up.”

He groans, turning his face away from you. You tap his shoulder, run a hand through his dark locks and still nothing. Huffing, you gather the very little energy you have—without coffee in the morning, you’re pretty much nothing—to turn his body around and crawl on top of him.

“Wha—” Mark’s eyes are half-open but don’t stay so for long when he notices how you’re basically straddling his bare abs with your naked body. He panics so much that he begins to flail all over the place and end up falling from the bed and knocking you off his lap in the process.

You break into a train of laughter, pulling some blanket to cover your body. “Guess sober Mark is back.”

“Why are you naked?!” He shrieks, head peeping out from under the bed, and he shrieks louder when he notices that he’s also in his birthday suit. “Why am I naked?!”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

Mark takes a few seconds to himself, trying to process everything that his blurry memories can give and his jaw falls slack on his face when he realizes that, “We had sex!”

“Yeah, we did. Twice.” You giggle, nudging your head toward your desk which is literally in chaos—papers scattered everywhere, books falling to the floor, pens unaligned.

Mark follows your gaze and gapes harder. “Shit, yeah, on that desk—I remember—wait, but how?! Why—” He looks like he’s physically hurting trying to remember every detail, and probably that’s his hangover talking.

“Want some aspirin?”

He pouts rather cutely. “Yes, please.” When you step down from the bed, leaving your blanket behind, Mark blushes and immediately turns his face away, unconsciously letting out a girly yelp as he does so.

“Umm, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re naked.”

You stifle down a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. And so are you.”

Mark covers his bottom half with a pillow, face flushed. “C-can you put some clothes on?”

You were planning to, but seeing him react like this makes you re-think your decision. “Mark, we literally had sex twice yesterday.”

“I know, don’t say it!” He hides his face behind his palm. “It’s still embarrassing for me.”

“You certainly weren’t embarrassed last night,” you tease, “You even asked whether you could eat me out—”

“GAH!” He has both hands covering his ears, turning his entire body around to hide his face but the way his ears are going red is contradicting his action.

“Mark, look at me.”

“No way in hell!”

Smirking to yourself, you slowly walk to his spot, not covering even an inch of yourself. When you call him again, softer this time, Mark makes a mistake and throws you a glance. He’s no longer able to take his gaze off you after that.

You spread your legs, sitting on the pillow he has on his lap and wrapping both legs around his waist. Pressing your chest to his, you lean close to his ear. “Wanna go for another round?”

Mark gulps.

***

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spencer-reids-adventures · 3 years

Note

First sentence, but it’s more than one sentence because I’m a bad anon, sorry!- “God Reid, why do you have to be so unpredictable? You survived a whole kidnapping, you certainly shouldn’t be freaking out because a light is too bright and the tag on your shirt is scratchy! You’re acting like a child.” (Yeah this would take place when Spencer has a Bad Sensory Day and the team doesn’t know he’s on the spectrum)

“God Reid, why do you have to be so unpredictable? You survived a whole kidnapping, you certainly shouldn’t be freaking out because a light is too bright and the tag on your shirt is scratchy! You’re acting like a child.”

Well, Spencer thinks, JJ is a mom, so she would know what children act like, right?

"I'm sorry," he whispers, face hot and red, but still nothing compared to the burning of that tag on the back of his neck.

With a trembling hand, he shoves his sunglasses back into his bag before he can even put them on, and then he carefully stands up, pushes his chair in, and walks out of the room. He can hear each of his footsteps, he can hear JJ's exasperated sigh, he can hear literally everything in the room, and if he doesn't get somewhere quiet he's going to scream.

He's probably going to scream anyway, to be honest.

As soon as he makes it through the doorway he breaks into a run, pushing his way into the stairwell and racing down to the parking garage. His car is thankfully parked in a secluded spot, and as soon as he makes it inside he puts on the sunglasses, throws his cardigan over his head, stuffs his tie in his mouth, and shrieks. He shoves his hands into his hair and pulls as he rocks hard back and forth, nearly hitting his head on the steering wheel.

Tears run down his cheeks, and he's frustrated, and he's embarrassed, and everything is too much, and he doesn't know how to fix this, doesn't know how to make this okay with JJ, doesn't know how to explain, because he doesn't want to have to explain everything, especially not like this, and not to her.

When he finally starts to calm down, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and finds a bunch of concerned messages waiting for him from every member of the team. He ignores most of them, but there's one person he feels safe enough to talk to.

ALEX BLAKE:

Are you okay, Spencer? Is there anything I can help with?

SPENCER REID:

Meltdown. In my car.

ALEX BLAKE:

I'm on my way.

She doesn't know yet, but Spencer can tell her, and she'll help him. He's sure of that.

#guh this one made me emotional and i got carried away sorryyyy #maya writes more than 5 sentences #spencer reid #jennifer jj jareau #alex blake #maya's spencer whump collection

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

my body is a cage.

ObNeSummary: Y/N’s worst nightmare has become a reality. Her only saving grace is that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,000+ [One Shot]

Warning: Feminist Issues, Adult/Mature Themes (NOT smut)

Y/N could feel her heart start racing faster as she studied the doctor’s office. Now she was starting to sweat as well.

Her doctor were running late and that meant Y/N was stuck looking at the nondescript walls and smelling that sterile scent for 20 minutes. It felt like an hour.

It was just a follow-up appointment. There was no bad news expected to be given. But that didn’t stop Y/N’s anxiety.

Y/N finally gave up on trying to calm herself down through breathing and reached down to grab her cellphone out of her purse.

There was a two text message notifications: one from her mom and one from Jason.

She opened the one from Jason.

– Good luck at your appointment today. Remember to breathe.

Y/N smirked at the message. Jason knew how stressed out Y/N got for literally any type of doctor’s appointments. Even if it was just your usual checkup – like today – it caused her anxiety for some reason.

Jason must’ve sent it right before passing out after patrol.

Finally the doctor came in, making Y/N jump and almost drop her phone. She hid her scare well and quickly put her phone back into her purse.

“Hi Y/N, so we finally got your blood work back,” she began.

“Great. Will I be able to get a prescription and pick it up today?” Y/N asked quickly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“So one of the many reasons we get blood drawn before prescribing this medication is to make sure you’re not pregnant before going on it.” Before Y/N could speak, she quickly added. “You’re test results came back positive.”

Y/N’s mouth opened at the statement.

Her mind was going a million miles a second, trying to process what the doctor has just told her.

When was the last time she had her period?

Why did it feel 20 degrees hotter in here all of the sudden?

This couldn’t be happening. No. No. No. This really couldn’t be happening. She tried so, so hard to make sure this didn’t happen. This was her nightmare. This was her fucking nightmare coming to fucking life.

By some miracle, the doctor didn’t smile with joy and exclaim a congratulations. She seemed to sense that Y/N was on the brink of having an anxiety attack.

“I remember you saying you did’t intend on ever having any kids, so I’m sure this is a lot to process,” the doctor told her gently. “Why don’t we hold off on this medication – even if it’s just for a couple of days? Just give yourself a second to process and come up with a plan.” Then she gave Y/N an encouraging smile. “When you want to make another appointment, I’ll make sure reception squeezes you in. Alright?”

Y/N couldn’t do anything but nod – and even that was far too delayed.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” The doctor asked softly.

But Y/N shook her head.

When Y/N got out of the doctor’s office and back on the streets of Gotham, she seemed to snap out of it a bit.

Her ears weren’t ringing any longer and the cold, winter air was doing miracles.

‘Get to Jason,’ Y/N’s heart suddenly screamed at her.

And just like that, Y/N went into autopilot, grabbed a cab, and gave them her address. As she watched the buildings go by, Y/N’s mind was simultaneously thinking a million things and thinking nothing at all. It was almost a buzz.

When she got back to her apartment, the TV was on but the volume was off. Sometimes Jason would watch it after patrol and hope it would bore him to sleep. But her giant, vigilante of a boyfriend wasn’t sleeping on the couch, so that meant he was in their bed.

Y/N toed off her shoes, tossed her keys on the side table by the door, and hung her denim jacket – no, Jason’s denim jacket – on the coat rack.

She slowly pushed the bedroom door open to find Jason passed out on his side. His arm was reached over to the other side of the bed as if his body had searched out for hers in his sleep and came up empty.

Y/N tiptoed to the bed and carefully slid into the empty side of the bed.

Jason stayed asleep, meaning he must’ve been really exhausted. Usually her presence would stir him, even if it was just for a few seconds.

Sometimes Y/N would come in here when she got back from work and take a cat nap with him before getting started on dinner or leaving to work out. Sometimes she would just cuddle with him, he would wake up and sleepily ask about her day while bringing her into his – even when she told him to go back to sleep.

Now Y/N laid on her side and watched him sleep.

Even when he looked exhausted and various scars were scattered across his face, Jason Todd was beautiful.

And when he was sleeping like this, he looked so young. Y/N wondered if that was how Jason always looked to Bruce: innocent, vulnerable, forever young.

Y/N reached forward shakily and brushed the white streak of his hair off his face. His hair was getting shaggier than usually allowed. She wondered if he’d ask her to cut it again or if he’d finally listen to her and go to a barber.

“You run your hands through my hair and I’ll be putty in your hands,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed.

Y/N froze and stopped her combing, her hands shooting back to her chest.

Her silence and pause made Jason’s eyes squint open.

Those blue eyes of his were always perception, especially when it came to the woman he loved with all his heart. And as soon as they locked with Y/Ns, they immediately knew that something was wrong.

His brow wrinkled. “You OK?” His voice laced with worry and concern.

Suddenly… Y/N’s mind and body were given the chance to release the reaction they wanted to have since the news was broken.

Her bottom lip trembled a moment before tears burst from her eyes.

And then Y/N was shoving her face into her boyfriend’s chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason consoled. “What happened? What’s going on?”

But Y/N couldn’t even form words. She was fully hyperventilating.

Her chest literally hurt as the sobs escaped. She was shaking as if it was freezing in the room, despite Jason’s body basically being her own personal furnace. And she felt like she was going to throw up at any second.

Was that morning sickness? Or was the just good ol’ fashioned nausea?

Jason quickly realized he wasn’t going to get any verbal communication right now. So he just held her in his arms, letting her cry it out as he rubbed a hand up and down her back.

But his mind was shuffling through all of the possibilities.

Had someone hurt her? Did she get fired? Did a group of assholes catcall her on the way home?

But none of those seemed like things that would upset Y/N in such a manner.

“Breathe, Y/N. Take a deep breath,” he told her calmly as he kissed the top of her head.

She barely gave a nod to show that she was trying to do what he advised.

With her eyes wet and bloodshot from tears and her face swollen, Y/N finally pulled away from Jason’s chest so he could see her.

“Deep breath,” he reminded her again gently. “Can you tell me what’s gotten you so upset? Can you do that for me?”

Y/N sniffled, really just to buy herself a second before she said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s body tensed. His eyes studied hers, looking for any sign that she was not being absolutely serious.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Jason muttered, now realizing why she’d had such a reaction.

But then he quickly recovered, realizing that she still needed him because she was freaking the fuck out. Obviously. She just had a full-on panic attack in his arms. And she was probably moments away from possibly having another.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey, look at me.”

She took in a deep breath and did as he asked.

“No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to. OK?”

She just stared at him.

“OK?” He asked again, making sure she understood what he was telling her.

She nodded.

“I don’t want it,” Y/N exhaled.

The words came out on their own, like she had no control over them.

Jason winced, not at her statement, but because she sounded so desperate and scared.

He gave her a sympathetic look and cupped her cheek. “I know, Y/N. I know.”

Then he brought her back into his arms, holding her protectively, as usual – but protecting her from something he never had to before.

“I know how you feel about it. I’ve always did,” he told her softly. “Just try to relax. OK?”

She nodded.

Jason didn’t try to fill the silence. He didn’t try to say comfort after comfort. His touch did more things for Y/N then he words ever did. She needed to be held, not lectured or verbally coddled.

After a few moments, he looked down at her. “We can order from your favorite place, OK? Have a little movie marathon or finish watching that show.”

She gave him a small, shy smile at that.

“Sound good,” he asked.

She nodded again.

———

30 minutes later, Jason was scrolling the internet, researching Planned Parenthood locations while waiting for their takeout to get there.

Y/N, exhausted from her emotional and mental breakdown, had fallen asleep a few minutes after telling Jason the news.

Jason figured the least he could do is take the logistical weight off Y/N’s shoulders. All of this was happening to her and it was his fault. He knew she’d never frame it that way, but that’s how he felt right now. And he’d do anything to make it easier for her.

But all of the sudden, the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck suddenly stood on end.

The next millisecond, he grabbed the nearest hidden gun, shot to his feet, and pointed it at the window.

“Relax, Todd.”

“Demon Spawn, what the fuck are you doing here?” Jason lowered the gun.

To Jason’s annoyance, Damian jumped down from the window and into the apartment, dressed in his full Robin uniform.

“When you texted about covering your patrol tonight, father asked me to check on you.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Liar. No, he didn’t.”

“So, why aren’t you on patrol?”

“Y/N needed me.”

Damian’s body tensed.

For as much of hard time as Damian gave Jason, he didn’t mind his girlfriend. However, the preteen would never admit to actually liking her or enjoying time spent with her. But the whole family saw it anyway.

“Is she sick?”

Jason just nodded, not really having the energy to compose a big lie.

Then Damian caught sight of the laptop screen and saw what Jason had been researching.

“Oh,” Damian blurted out without thinking. It was a very unusual reaction from him. He always had something to say.

“Just…keep it to yourself, k?” Jason asked.

The last thing he needed right now was Damian blabbing around about Y/N.

But Damian nodded, not giving any further reaction to his discovery.

———

“What’s Alfred the Cat doing here?” Y/N asked as she cradled the cat and walking into the kitchen the next morning.

“Damian,” was all Jason provided.

Y/N laughed at his crypticness. “Did he need a cat sitter?”

Jason shook his head. “He came snooping when I told them I wasn’t going on patrol. And…Well, he’s Bruce’s kid, so you can imagine how quickly he put it together.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped when she realized what Jason was saying.

“He brought some of human Alfred’s cookies for you, too.” Jason added quickly, maybe to soften the blow a bit.

“That was sweet of him,” was all Y/N mumbled in return.

“I think he was worried about you. Figured some cookies and cuddles from Alfred would make you feel better,” Jason explained. “Of course, he didn’t verbally express any of that because he’s emotionally constipated.”

Y/N managed to force a smirk at the joke.

Silence filled the kitchen.

“I made you an appointment today,” Jason told her gently. “Not that I’m trying to force you to do anything. You can cancel it if you want to. I was just trying to–”

“Thank you,” Y/N cut him off and dropped the cat to wrap Jason in a hug. “Thank you, Jason.” She repeated, mumbled this time, since her face was now buried in his chest.

“Of course,” he told her before kissing her head. “Want some breakfast?”

He chuckled when he felt her nodding enthusiastically against him.

“Your favorite?”

She nodded again.

“You gonna let me go so I can make it?”

She shook her head no.

“Alright, spider monkey, let’s do this.”

Y/N’s laughter filled the room as Jason somehow managed to maneuver her body so she was on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck. And she piggybacked around the kitchen with him as he made them breakfast.

———

“Welp,” Y/N said bitterly as she looked at the building from across the street. “Don’t know how I wasn’t expecting this.”

Jason sighed as he watched too.

There were a dozen people with picket signs. One said, “It’s a child, not a choice.” Another said, “Jesus loves you both.” One of the men had a megaphone. One woman held a box with figurines that inaccurately showed how far along the fetus would be when it’s aborted.

“Wait here,” was all Jason said.

“Wait, what? Jason! Jason, don’t!” Y/N hissed.

But Jason was already halfway across the street. With the traffic and general noice of Gotham, Y/N could hear nothing. But it was clear that he was talking to him.

“Oh, for christ’s sake,” Y/N sighed when she saw all of their faces shift to utter horror. Whatever he was saying to them had clearly terrified them.

It only took a minute before Jason jogged back to her and offered his hand.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly.

“What the fuck did you just do?” She asked him.

“I told them all of their names, social security numbers, and addresses,” Jason told her lightly. “Oh! And their top porn searched.” He gave them a glance. “And said if they even so much as looked at you, I would do what I wanted with that information."

“So…you threatened them.”

Jason tilted his head and shrugged innocently. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Jason…” she groaned.

“I thought you would be proud. I didn’t use physical violence. I’m growing!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh.

But lo and behold, none of the protesters so much as faced their direction as they walked past.

Y/N wondered how long it took Jason to memorize all that information. Did he ask Tim to hack street cameras and use face recognition to even find all of them?

In the most messed up way, it warmed Y/N’s heart. It just showed a new angle of Jason’s protectiveness. Guess that was just another perk of dating a dangerous vigilante with too many connections and resources.

Besides his little threat, Jason hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand since they left the apartment – even now, as they sat in the waiting room.

If he was anxious at all, he was doing a beautiful job of hiding it.

Y/N guessed that’s what happened when someone had the history of Jason. This was like a walk in the park for him.

But when they called her name, Y/N looked at Jason with slight panic.

“I can’t go with you. It’s against policy,” he told her softly. “But I’ll be right here when you get out. OK?”

She nodded.

He must’ve learned that when he was doing all his research.

“You good? Huh?” He whispered, keeping eye contact.

She nodded again.

“You’ll be fine,” then he kissed her.

Just as Y/N reached the nurse, she turned to her boyfriend again. “I love you,” she mouthed to him.

“I love you too,” he mouthed back.

———

Y/N had been drained when they finally got back to their apartment.

All she wanted was to take a nap with her boyfriend.

A couple hours later, she had finally had the energy to stay awake.

But neither of them had any interest in getting out of bed. So instead they stayed cuddled close.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked her.

“Physically or mentally?”

“Both.”

“Physically, fine mostly. Some cramping. They said that was normal. But my period is ten times worse.” Then she sighed. “Mentally…like…I’m in control. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded.

“And relieved. Fuck,” she half laughed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

“I’m glad.”

Then Y/N smirked mischievously. “Are you sad you won’t see me wearing those stupid overalls with a baby bump,” then she dramatically fanned her hands, “as we have a montage of us painting a nursery?”

Jason laughed at that. “OK. Well I don’t live in a fucking Lifetime commercial.” Then he smirked. “I’ll take the overalls without the baby bump, though.”

She giggled at that.

“But it’s a real shame we couldn’t have a gender reveal party and burn down all of Gotham accidentally…” Jason thought aloud.

Y/N tried to suppress a smile, “…you do realize the point of those parties is to reveal the baby’s gender and not to burn a city down, right?”

“Well, fuck.” Jason played dumb. “The only appealing part of that was the arson.”

“It would’ve been funny to fuck with people, though.” Y/N’s eyes went distant as she thought about it. “Put in black balloons or just a rainbow assortment. And just see how everyone reacted.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jason sighed.

“Why are traditions so stupid and embarrassing?”

They both laughed.

“I’d have to suffer through a stupid baby shower. And then you’d get to come in at the very end and just wave at everyone. Men really got it made, huh? Just show up, and everyone applauds.”

Jason laughed, knowing she was absolutely right. Enough of the Justice League had kids for him to know that was how it worked.

“Like those videos where dads do their daughter’s hair and everyone loses their mind and praises him. But name one time a video has gone viral of a mom doing her kid’s hair.”

“The bar’s low,” he reminded Y/N.

But then Jason watched Y/N’s smile fall from her face as she got lost in her head.

“What?”

Her brow furrowed. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“What?” He gripped her chin. “Absolutely not.”

“I don’t feel bad. There’s no remorse,” Y/N mumbled with as her eyes zoned out. “All I feel is weight lifted off of me.”

“Hey,” his voice was low and serious. “Hey, look at me.”

He waited for her to do what he asked. “You’re not a bad person. You hear me?”

Then he started making himself angry with the thought that anyone would ever tell Y/N otherwise.

“You know what a bad person looks like? Someone who doesn’t take having a child seriously. Someone who makes that decision half-assed, knowing they’re bringing a child into a toxic environment or that they can’t properly take care of them.”

Jason made himself calm down. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. It just proves that you did exactly what you knew was best.”

She nodded, finally convinced by his words.

Y/N reached forward and brushed some hair off his face.

Jason was so god damn handsome. No wonder I got pregnant, she thought darkly. This is exactly how she got into this mess. It was hard just to keep her hands off of him.

“If I ask you something, do you promise you’ll tell me the truth?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’ll try my best.”

Her eyes twisted into something somber and afraid.

“Do you really never want kids?”

Jason should’ve expected this question at some point.

Even though Y/N didn’t verbalize it, Jason knew that one of her biggest fear throughout all of this was that it would change their relationship. She was scared that he would resent her, that he would change his mind and beg her to keep it.

Maybe it was her tone that was really the thing that caught him off guard. She sounded so scared of what he would say.

Jason rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Not because he wanted to hide the truth by stopping her from staring into his eyes. He just wanted to make sure he collected al of this thoughts. She deserved a proper answer.

“I never planned on being a father,” the statement was unwavering. “You know how my childhood went. And I see the same thing happening to kids all over Gotham today – some of them have it so much worse than I did.”

Y/N reached forward and placed her palm on his chest, right over his heart. Without thinking, his hand went to grip it.

“But you would never be like that,” she assured him. “You’re a good man, Jason. I mean, just look at how you are with Damian – no matter how hard you try to hide your soft spot for that boy.”

“I know I can be a good father. Except before you were in my life, I didn’t know that.”

If he were really tell the truth, he would tell Y/N that without her, there most likely wouldn’t even be a Jason Todd...only Red Hood.

He looked away from the ceiling and back at her. “But that doesn’t want I want to be.”

“So you can honestly say that you never want a family? Even if wasn’t with me?”

“Y/N, look at my family,” Jason laughed. “None of us our related. Bruce is a mess of a father. His biological son was basically artificially inseminated. The butler is more like our grandma who raised us. All of them tried to take me down and imprison me at one point or another...”

He shook his head at the ridiculousness. “The point is that I know more than anyone that family can look like a million different things. And the perfect outline society has forced onto us doesn’t actually mean shit.”

He grinned. “My family is a group of vigilantes who don’t know how to quit.” His eyes softened. “And then there’s you. You’re my family, too. I don’t need add anything else for that to be true.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself and she practically tackled him into a kiss.

Jason gripped her waist and twisted them so she was straddling his waist, and his hands traced up and down the side of her ribcage.

After their lips separate, Y/N looked down at him lovingly.

She let a moment pass.

“What if I changed my mind?”

“I think you and I both know you never will.”

“But what if I did?” She insisted.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N just wanted to challenge him. She wanted to go through all the scenarios her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. She needed answers to the hypothetical scenarios that would never come to be.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she told him certainly.

“I know, Y/N.”

She kissed him again. “Thank you for supporting me through all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he scoffed. “It’s my fault.”

And he meant it. Most days, Jason had to convince himself he was worthy of her love. What kind of man would be lucky enough to have Y/N as their girl and not do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way?

“No, it wasn’t,” she corrected him seriously. “It was both of us.”

“You can’t scare me away,” Jason told her. “Nothing is ever gonna stop me from loving you. Got it?”

She nodded.

But before she could say anything more, Jason wrapped her in a heated kiss.

He knew these questions were her anxiety manifesting itself. And Y/N had enough stress for today. So he’d turned off her mind with his touches.

She deserved a break.

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

I don’t know how I managed to write yet another one of these fics. But I realized it was easier to give it a new twist since Jason Todd has a sense of humor and an edge that Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers do not. Also, he wasn’t raised in the 1930s. lol

Please, please, please let me know if you liked it!!!

If anyone is interested in movies on this topic, I highly recommend these:

Never Rarely Sometimes Always

Unpregnant

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

Obvious Child

#jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood fic #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #batfam #batman family #batboys #dc #batman universe #jason todd angst #pro choice #pro-choice #feminism

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jungshookz · 3 years

Text

teeny tidbits: emma comes home past curfew & y/n's not happy about it

➺ genre; kindergartenteacher!taehyungiverse!! honk honk humour!! sixteen year old emma reminds y/n of herself and she doesn't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing

➺ wordcount; 1.5k

➺ p.s. this takes place far faR off into the future!! i just thought it'd be nice to see emma as a spunky teenager :'))

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

the sound of the front door rattling at four in the morning would usually be something that would terrify pretty much anybody, but for you-

"oh, come on!"

it's really just another day in the life.

"em's home," taehyung reaches over slowly to pat your stomach and wake you up (as if you haven't been up waiting for the past four hours), his voice laced with sleep as he rolls to the side, "i'll go open the-"

"nope." you reach over to turn the lamp on before flicking the covers off and stepping out of bed, adjusting the strap of your tank top before pointing a finger at taehyung, "you're not opening anything."

"okay, well-" taehyung pauses before propping himself up a little to frown at you, "wait, what?"

"you know, i cannot believe her-" you snap, pulling your hair up into a bun as you hurry over to the window, "it's like she likes to be grounded! i told her she could go out with her friends as long as she came back before curfew, but no-"

"well, it's not that late, is it?" taehyung tosses the pillow he's hugging to his chest aside before turning to look at the clock sitting on his bedside table, "it's only- oh. it's 4:18."

you unlock the latch on the window before digging your fingers underneath it and pulling it up with a snap, watching as emma rushes out from the front porch at the sudden noise

"why, good morning, miss kim!" you call out, leaning down against the edge of the open window with a bright smile, "now i can rest well knowing you weren't murdered tonight."

"the door's broken or something!" emma strategically ignores your snarky comment, placing a hand on her hip before sticking her hand up in the air to flash you her keys with a jingle, "my keys aren't working!"

"oh, your keys are fine, sweetheart." you let out a sigh before scrunching your nose, "i triple-locked the doors. better to be safe than to be sorry, right?"

"okay, well-" emma pauses, scratching the back of her neck before gesturing towards the door, "are you gonna open the door for me or what? i really have to pee-"

"you could always take a squat and pee in the bushes." you point out, emma's jaw dropping slightly before she lets out a scoff

"are you serious? i'm not taking a piss in the bushes-"

"well, i guess you should've thought of that before coming home four hours past curfew!" your tone changes as soon as you get to the point and even from here you're able to make out the slight twitch of panic that runs through emma's body

"don't be ridiculous, i'm not four hours past curfew-" emma grumbles, turning to pull her phone out of her purse and glancing at it before pausing for a second and then looking back up at you, "i'm... four hours and twenty minutes past curfew. so take that!"

"you know, i was just being nice and i rounded down, but if you wanna say you were four hours and twenty minutes late, we can definitely say you were four hours and twenty minutes late-"

"mom!" emma whines, stomping her foot down on the ground as she shoves her phone back into her (your!!) purse hastily, "you can't just- are you seriously not going to let me into the house?! you're gonna make me sleep out on the front porch?! i can't- what if the coyotes get me?! if the coyotes get me, you're gonna regret this decision so bad-"

"the only thing that's going to attack you in this neighbourhood are the little girl scouts who won't leave you alone until you buy, like, ten boxes of cookies from them-"

"i'm sixteen, mother!" emma cuts you off with another whine and you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of your daughter throwing a tantrum on the front lawn, "i'm grown! i should be allowed to go out with my friends and come home whenever i want!"

you thought you were 'grown' at sixteen too

(spoiler alert: that was not the case at all.)

obviously you love your daughter more than anything in the world but you hate that she inherited one of the traits that you're not fond too of: your stubbornness

and look, of course you know that she's getting older and that she should be allowed to go and have (safe) fun with her friends but this isn't the first time she's broken the rules and knowing her, it certainly won't be the last time

and it doesn't help that taehyung always gets to play good cop and you have to be the bad one!!!

like last time when the two of you caught emma climbing into the house through one of the windows and she ended up getting stuck - instead of reprimanding her for coming home late again, taehyung just laughed and immediately went over to help her out

sure, the sight of your daughter flailing around trapped in a small window was hilarious, but someone had to be the serious one in the situation (1) she lied to you about just having a chill night with her friends because you're pretty sure a chill night doesn't involve body glitter and the faint smell of vodka on her breath! 2) she climbed up the side of the house like a maniac and could've gotten seriously injured????) and of course the responsibility to do that fell onto your lap

taehyung's also just not very good at disciplining which is why you usually gently push him aside and take the lead and it looks like it's time for you to turn on your i'm not mad, i'm just very disappointed in you act once again

"you're going to wake your brother up if you keep screaming like that, and you know how fussy he gets when he doesn't get a good night's sleep-"

"he's the world's sleepiest baby, i could blow up fireworks in his room and he'd be fine- dad!" emma's eyes immediately light up when a sleepy taehyung suddenly pops up next to you and you raise a brow when he nudges you aside gently, "oh my god, thank god- mom's literally being insane right now, you have to let me in-"

"what time did you say you'd be home?" taehyung interrupts, "because i think we agreed on midnight when i dropped you off at hope's apartment..."

"i-" emma presses her lips together before letting out a little scoff and rolling her eyes, "okay, yes, we- i said i would be home by midnight, yes." she sighs before suddenly perking up again, "it's not my fault, though! no one goes home before midnight, it's so lame- hope's dad lets her stay out as long as she texts-"

"ah, texts! let's talk about that! didn't you say you'd text us to let us know where you were if you weren't home by midnight?" taehyung points out, crossing his arms over his chest before reaching up to stroke at his chin to feign deep thought, "because my phone hasn't gone off all night... has yours, darling?" he hums, turning to glance at you

"nope!" you chime in with a helpless little shrug and you nearly crack a smile when you see emma reach up to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration, "my phone has been dead silent. no texts. not even an emoji!"

"you hear that, emma? not even an emoji." taehyung tsks, shaking his head in disappointment, "you know what this means, don't you?"

"i'm grounded for two weeks, i know-"

"two weeks?? oh, you're grounded for a month." taehyung pauses for a second before looking down at her again, "and! and you have to change all of your brother's diapers the whole time you're grounded. also, i just want to let you know that he had sweet potatoes for dinner and you know how gassy he gets after a helping of sweet potatoes-"

"a month?!" emma roars and your eye twitches at how high her voice goes, "you can't ground me for a month, lucas is throwing this huge party next weekend and i have to be there! are you kidding m-"

taehyung slides the window back down before emma gets to say anything else and he turns to face you with a grin before opening his arms slightly, "well?? what did you think??"

"i think... that was probably one of the sexiest things you've ever done for me." you laugh lightly, happily giving him a quick kiss when he leans in for one

"duly noted." taehyung beams before letting out a quick sigh and then turning on his heels to head to the door, "okay, i'm going to go let our daughter into the house now because i don't think my hydrangeas are going to survive being peed on-"

🎙️give emma some diaper changing tips (talk to my characters/send in a message!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles! mini series!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this one!)

259 notes · View notes

nanatsumu · 3 years

Text

TEENAGE FEVER

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis: iwaizumi has strung you on long enough and you’re finally at the end of your rope.

genre: heavy angst... like make your heart wrench in pain heavy, one sided pining

warnings: manga spoilers, bad grammar (didn’t know it was that bad until i used grammarly), MATURE themes, drinking, smoking, alcohol, iwaizumi being an asshole (he’s also a frat boy because surprise! frat boys should never be trusted), subtle hints at sex, bittersweet ending

word count: 6.7K

series masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

“y/n we know you’re in there, someone told me they saw you run in here.”

great!

you slowly sit up from the toilet, dragging your feet across the bathroom tiles until you make it to the door and begin unlocking the lock at a snail’s pace. but before you can even get a chance to twist the doorknob, somebody is already doing so on the other side of the door and the next thing you know, reina’s screaming ‘HURRY UP’ and you’re assaulted by the bathroom door.

“REINA!” you scream as the result of the door flying into your face has you clutching your head.

“SHIT! SORRY Y/N!”

“geez, why are you so fucking slow,” oikawa complains as he sucks his teeth, pushing the door in a little wider so that you can see standing him behind reina as well. “did iwa-chan’s kiss mess you up that bad?”

“your friend is a prick, oikawa!” reina jabs him in the side, eliciting a grunt from the poor man. “it was supposed to be a quick smooch but that guy had to be extra and start using tongue!”

“what kind of guy kisses a girl who he’s only met once like that?!” your female friend cries.

“only someone as ballsy as him would even try and do that,” oikawa stops scratching his head, his eyes widening like saucers as if he’s just realized something. “and don’t put all the blame on iwaizumi! y/n, you literally moaned! and i even saw you kissing back!”

“don’t make me feel shittier than i already do oikawa!” you jeer.

“he...” you sigh and you can feel the tears start to prickle your eyes. “i feel so humiliated, and embarrassed.”

“and i-i felt so... so exposed.”

oikawa’s playful expression falters as he hears the hurt in your voice and manages to squeeze his way past a protesting reina before kneeling down so that he could meet your glossy eyes.

“listen, i’ll apologize on his behalf for now and i’ll take him about it later, alright?” he awkwardly pats your shoulder, not sure what to do as he’s never been in a situation where he’s had to comfort a girl bawling her eyes out.

“y-you... don’t have— t-to do that,” you whimper. “i’m just being a big crybaby, it’s just a silly kiss.”

“no it’s not!” reina blurts out a little louder than she intended to. “that prick completely disrespected you and embarrassed you in front of everyone! it wasn’t even a matter of him kissing you, it was a part of a game, but that dude took it too far and crossed the line!”

“listen, this is why i told you to stay away from him in the first place,” your roommate shuffles closer to you and pulls you in for a hug. “let’s go home alright?”

“let me walk you guys home, it’s getting late outside and even though you two are together, you never know what’ll happen.” oikawa offers, and while you are quick to accept, reina wavers momentarily.

“how do you know you’re not gonna take advantage of us, hm?”

“please, if i wanted to i already would’ve given the circumstances but i haven’t because i. do. not. want. to!” he smiles patronizingly which irks reina.

“whatever, but if you even think about trying anything then i’ll cut your dick off and feed it to my lizard.” she threatens but oikawa doesn’t take it to heart.

you finally get the last of your sniffles out as you stand up to your feet and exit the bathroom with oikawa and reina trailing along right behind you, similar to an assembly line of ducks— a very... tall duck, a crying duck, and an angry duck.

the walk home was rowdier than you had expected it to be. while you were quieter than usual and still in a bad mood from earlier events, that didn’t stop oikawa and reina though from causing a ruckus on the way back to the dorms.

“you’re telling me, that THAT’S hajime? like hajime iwaizumi? the notorious playboy of irvine?” reina gapes as she stares at the photo of iwaizumi back in high school that oikawa had saved in his phone.

even you were surprised to see what iwaizumi looked back then when reina practically shoved oikawa’s phone in your face, the brightness radiating from his phone screen only further irritating your bloodshot eyes.

while he still had a bit of muscle on him back then, he looked a lot lankier in comparison to his university counterpart who had grown twice in size. his once pale skin had become almost a sun-kissed tan color that complimented his features. but what shocked you the most was that the iwaizumi shown to you in the photos was free from any blemishes on his arms and his ears weren’t dressed in dangly silvers or studs.

“that’s iwaizumi?” your jaw dropped and oikawa was quick to make a teasing remark about how your mouth was wide open enough for flies to fly in.

“what happened to him?!” reina cries.

“sometimes i wonder why he hasn’t visited japan in the past 4 years but when i look back at this photo and then compare it to present him, i would piss my pants too if i were him and had to go back home to my mom.”

“does his mom not like tattoos or piercings?” reina questions as you and oikawa give each other a look before turning back to the girl.

“i don’t know about iwaizumi, but my mom is pretty strict about tattoos and piercings,” you start to explain. “she’s the ‘girls shouldn’t get tattoos!’ and ‘guys shouldn’t get piercings!’ type of mom, so she’s not completely against it, but if i came home with a huge ass tattoo like iwaizumi then she’d sure as hell chop my arm off.”

“japan’s pretty strict about piercings and tattoos, especially when it comes to students because tattoos are kind of a sign of the yakuza in japan,” oikawa adds in addition. “piercings aren’t as frowned upon as tattoos but it’s usually the younger kids who have ‘em.”

“yakuza?”

“like a gang basically? or a mafia i guess.” you answer reina to the best of your abilities.

you start kicking a pebble around and breathe in the crisp california air, watching as a puff of smoke escapes your lips with every exhale.

“you alright?” oikawa asks as he begins growing worried since you haven’t said anything in the past few minutes.

“yeah, just thinking,” you stuff your hands into your pockets and continue kicking the pebble beneath your feet. “california is a lot hotter than japan.”

“you think california is hot? just wait ‘till you spend a day in the summer heat in argentina.” he counters.

“maybe one day,” you say in consideration. “maybe when i graduate university i’ll consider traveling somewhere before my life completely revolves around paying taxes and bills.”

“if you do come to argentina one day then just give me a call and i’ll be more than happy to give you a tour around.” he beams.

“my cousin is playing volleyball in brazil, i think?” you say, remembering your mother telling you that hinata had gone to play beach volleyball in brazil. “he’s blood-related but he lived in miyagi while i lived in aomori so we never really got to see each other that much.”

“miyagi? i used to live in miyagi too!”

“huh? really? do you know a hinata shoyo then?” you ask, intrigued at the newfound information. “i heard from my mom that he started playing volleyball in high school so he’s probably played you once in a game if you played volleyball in high school too.”

“i did actually, his team beat mine during the qualifiers for spring nationals my last year of high school and man, i think i probably broke the record for most bowls of ramen eaten in one sitting that day.” he chuckles but it comes out sounding more half-heartedly in your ears, almost like he’s recalling an unpleasant memory from the past.

“so what made you go to argentina?” you ask and oikawa answers like he’s been asked this countless of times (which he has.)

“when i was a kid, there was this volleyball player i really looked up to,” oikawa starts. “his name was jose blanco and there was a tournament happening in sendai that i went to where he played against japan, and at the time there was a young ace on the team who was a fledgling star,”

“he made a big impression during the first half of the tournament but he started getting worse as things progressed. he was kind of off for the rest of the game and i thought that he was gonna be subbed out but it wasn’t until they switched setters that i noticed the ace was getting back into his groove. jose was a veteran setter, 38 years old i think? and if you were to be asked who the star of the game was then you’d probably say the ace since he was the one who scored most of the points right? but if you ask me, i think the setter was the star of the game!”

“he was so cool too! like he was so calm the entire time and he inconspicuously helped the ace get back on to his feet and just simply left the court,” oikawa continues to ramble. “i even got an autograph but that dumbass iwaizumi took the paper that i bought and got the autograph of some dude on the japan team so i had to give jose the jersey i bought earlier that day instead. although it did end up getting washed though....”

“hah! desperate much?” you laugh as you bump shoulders with him.

“desperate time for desperate measures! no way was i gonna leave without getting the jose blanco’s autograph!” he emphasizes.

unbeknownst to you and oikawa, a cheeky smile creeps upon reina’s face as she watches you and oikawa converse with each other like you two were long-time friends catching up for the first time in forever.

you, on the other hand, were starstruck by the man that is oikawa tooru.

the story he told you left you feeling heart-warmed because you noticed how his eyes sparkled and his lips curved into a genuine smile as he talked about his idol and the sport he is so passionate about. oikawa was many things: a flirt, a smooth talker, a sly fox, and he could get a little handsy sometimes— but you could tell the love he had for volleyball was like no other and you respected how committed he was to the sport, even going as far as to going to argentina in order to follow his long-time idol.

“i think it’s really cool that you’re so passionate about volleyball,” you smile as you peer up at the night sky. “in my opinion, i think being committed to one thing your entire life is a bit hard depending on who you are, but at least there are guys like you who are one-in-a-million.”

your words strike a chord in oikawa and reina is quick to notice the way his lips part as he holds his gaze on you.

“oh would you two quit flirting!” reina lets out an inhumane noise that startles you and oikawa.

“you scared me!” you take a deep breath and frantically clutch your heart.

“just say you forgot that i was here because you were too busy getting chummy with oikawa!” she groans while pulling her face.

“you’re just jealous i’m stealing your roommate away,” oikawa sticks his tongue out at your roommate before stopping in his tracks and pulling you into a hug. “but don’t worry! i’ll take extremely good care of her.”

“no way buddy,” reina takes a hold of your arm and uses all of her strength in order to pull you away from oikawa. “she was my roommate before she was your friend!”

“wow i feel so popular,” you say sarcastically, accompanied with a roll of your eyes. “it’s 1 now and i think i would very much rather be at home right now in my jammies instead of listening to you two bicker back and forth.”

“you don’t mean me do you, y/n?!” reina wails as she clings onto you.

“oh look! it’s a bear!” you point out to the other side of the street and reina snaps her head in the direction you’re pointing in.

“where?!”

with her attention off of you, you take this chance to slip away from her and run towards your dorm building along with oikawa who’s right on your tail.

“you’re... really... fast!” oikawa pants as he speaks in-between breaths. “like a lo— WOAH!”

he trips over a slab of concrete that was out of place and out of reflex, he latches onto the nearest object— and unfortunately, you were the closest thing he could grab onto.

“H-HEY!” you screech when you feel yourself being pulled down onto the ground.

with the split second that he had of clarity, oikawa took advantage of the opportunity and moved his hand under your head so that it wouldn’t make contact with the concrete and his hand, would instead, cushion your fall.

you hit the concrete with an ‘oof!’ and while you were awaiting the sharp pain in the back of your head to come, it never came. instead, you open your eyes only to see oikawa’s brown ones staring right back at you with an astounded expression that mirrored yours.

“so, how are you doing this fine night?” he grins.

“pretty good, up until your dumbass tripped and pulled me down with you,” you snort.

reina gasps dramatically when she catches up to you guys and sees the position you two are in.

“you deny your chumminess with him and then you run off to get all handsy with him!”

“this idiot tripped and then thought it would be a good idea to pull me down with him,” you stand up after oikawa offers to pull you up. “what kind of thought process do you even have to think that i could catch your fall?”

reina squeezes his bicep, triggering him to let out a yelp.

“oh it’s hard alright.” reina smirks as oikawa yanks his arm away.

“do you work out a lot?” you sneak up behind oikawa and put your hands on his broad shoulders.

“yup!” he flexes his arm and gives you both a cheeky smile. “i gained 10 kilograms of muscle mass!”

“1-10?! isn’t that like 20 pounds?!” reina gawks at the volleyball player.

“yeah and guess what, i only grew one centimeter so it was all me baby!” he laughs almost mockingly.

the rest of the walk home was full of laughter and heartwarming bantering between the three of you and you were happy that you were able to meet reina, an amazing roommate, and oikawa, who was a cocky shit but still managed to squeeze a laugh out of you.

it was going to be a long 4 years away from home, but just as long as you were surrounded by the right people, you were sure that these 4 years would fly by in a jiffy.

when you guys finally arrived at your dorm building, you notified reina that you would stay outside and chat with oikawa for a bit and so she gave you the okay and headed up to your room first so that she could get ready for bed since she was about ready to knock out right then and there.

“thanks for walking me home, oikawa,” you pull him in for friendly hug that he didn’t expect, but nevertheless, he hugs back anyway because who is he to decline a hug from you? “i feel bad for having you walk me home even though you probably want to hang out with iwaizumi.

oikawa feels his stomach churn at the mention of his best friend and guilt creeps upon him like bile rising in the back of your throat.

oikawa had turned a blind eye to iwaizumi’s bad habit of playing around with girls and leaving them after he’s had his fair share of fun because iwaizumi was his best friend and despite the drastic transformation he had gone through within the 4 years that they’ve been away from each other, oikawa knew deep down that he was still the iwaizumi he knew and loved— the iwaizumi who had stuck with him through thick and thin during his adolescent years.

however, now that he’s taken the time to familiarize himself with you personally and grow to learn what type of person you were— someone with a good heart but isn’t afraid to voice their own opinions and stand their ground when people try to walk all over them— he can’t help but be greedy and want you all for himself.

“say, y/n,” you give him a soft hum in response which prompts him to continue taking. “you wanna grab some milk bread with me tomorrow at the cafe you were talking about?”

“are you asking me out on a date right now?” you wheeze. “you’re pretty bold for asking out someone you’ve only met twice your entire life.”

“it’s not a date unless you want it to be.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“a platonic date sounds good to me, don’t you think?”

“there’s no such thing as a platonic date, y/n.”

“maybe not to you since you’re probably used to girls flocking around you all the time,” you say and he’s visibly upset at the fact that you think he’s a casanova or something when in reality he still hasn’t had his first girlfriend yet. “so you in? i’ll even call it a date if you’d like.”

“yeah i’m in,” he puts his fist out for a fist bump, which you are content with returning, and he beams at you with the biggest smile you’ve seen him give you. “does the afternoon work for you?”

you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket and open up the contacts app before handing it to the male.

“just give me your number and we can go over the specifics over text tonight.”

he punches in his number, saving the contact as “tooru👽” before handing the device back to you.

“an alien emoji?” you laugh as you read his contact name displayed on your phone. “you’re a dork.”

“like you’re any less of a dork than me.” he playfully rolls his eyes as he pulls his phone out and gives it for you to return the favor.

you clumsily put your number into his phone, accidentally pressing some random digit one too many times, and save your name as “y/n :3” before handing his phone back to him.

“a bunny face?” he threw his head back and let out a humorous laugh.

“shut up!” you give his shoulder a gentle push. “as if an alien emoji is any better, at least my emoticon is cute!”

“yeah yeah, whatever you say.” he slips his phone back into his pocket before giving you one last final hug that feels a bit warmer than the ones he’s given you before.

“get home safe, oikawa.”

his eyes linger on your face for a bit longer than he would’ve liked.

your eyes were crinkled and your smile lines were more prominent up close, but it didn’t stop oikawa’s heart from skipping a beat.

“sweet dreams y/n.”

you awaken the next morning to the sound of your phone ringing and reina’s abnormally loud snoring (you’re surprised that the girls in the next room over haven’t come knocking at your door telling your roommate to snore a little quieter.)

with the sleep still present in your eyes, the brightness of your phone screen causes you to squint before your vision clears up and you’re able to make out the numbers ‘7:30 A.M’ displayed across your screen.

when the haziness finally leaves your system, you take a look outside your window and realize that the only speck of sunlight present at all is the sunlight that’s provided by the rising sun, peeking out from across the horizon.

you mentally curse oikawa out in your head as your fingers dance across your keyboard to type out a brief response to oikawa’s suspiciously ominous text message.

you reluctantly get up from your bed and slip on your fuzzy bunny slippers before treading over to your door, unlocking it, and then swinging it open, revealing your tall, brown-haired friend standing right where he said he would be.

“nice jammies,” he lets loose an unrestrained, boisterous laugh as he reaches out to fix the strap of your tank top which slipped off your shoulder. “i dig the bunny slippers by the way.”

you haphazardly shuffle your feet, gaining a smile from oikawa as he chuckles softly.

“can i come in?” he peers into the room by leaning over a bit where he sees reina sprawled out in a weird position on her bed, snoring loudly.

“uh, reina’s actually asleep,” you sheepishly scratch the back of your head. “the dorms don’t have separate bedrooms, everyone just sleeps in the same room with their respective roommates.”

“so movie night’s no longer in question?”

“i guess if you don’t mind reina being a plus one,” you shrug as you gesture for him to come in, letting him enter the room first so that you can close the door on your way in. “she’s a heavy sleeper so don’t worry about waking her up.”

oikawa throws himself onto your bed, even going as far as to slipping under your covers and making himself right at home, which, you don’t hesitate to scold him for doing so.

“what’s the point of coming all the way over here just to go back to sleep?” you cross your arms as you walk over to your bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress.

“the bakery opens at 8:30 so i wanted to pick you up since the walk there is 25 minutes from here,” oikawa pulls his phone out and checks the time. “it’s 7:37 now so hurry and get ready!”

you shuffle over to the worn-out dresser that has been with you since the day you moved into the dorms and pull out the drawers that contain a majority of your most worn pieces. taking into account the outfit that oikawa was currently sporting— an oversized hoodie, a loose pair of sweatpants, and some sneakers that looked to be on the pricier side— you decided that wearing something similar to that would suffice.

“can you turn around?” you ask as you grab a pair of black sweatpants, not bothering to check the design since they looked all the same anyways, and an oversized hoodie that you forgot you even had in your possession.

“hm? why?”

“i’m gonna change?” you shrug. “unless you don’t mind staying here by yourself? or you can just step outside for a minute if you want to.”

“oh yeah, sure.”

you watch as he heeds your request and begins to turn around to face the wall before proceeding to take off your pajamas, making sure to keep a close eye on him just in case he decides to be a peeping tom.

“you know, you’re pretty credulous trusting a guy you’ve only met last week.” he says as he rocks side to side, head still turned facing the wall.

“well i don’t have to worry about you peeping because i’m already done changing,” you pull down the rest of the bunched up fabric of your hoodie that’s around your waist before slipping on a random baseball cap you saw laying around. “even if you did turn around, i have a 5-pound textbook and i’m not afraid to use it.”

oikawa’s about to make a snarky remark in return to your futile threat when suddenly a loud snore escapes reina’s mouth, encouraging the two of you to give each other a flabbergasted look that leads to you both erupting into a fit of hushed laughter.

“let’s go before reina wakes up and gets a heart attack after seeing you in here.”

“no way!”

after exiting the dorm building and beginning your journey with oikawa to the designated cafe, you two arguing about whether or not milk or cereal should go first after oikawa mentioned to you that he was a firm believer of “milk first, cereal last.”

“if you put milk in first then you’re just gonna get less cereal and who the fuck eats cereal just to drink the cereal milk?” you shoot him a grimace.

“when you pour in the cereal after the milk, then it’s just gonna float there and who takes satisfaction in seeing that shit?” you add. “that’s why cereal first is way better because you get a bowl full of cereal and it’s just... perfect!”

“but your cereal is gonna be soggy by the time you put the milk back in the refrigerator!” oikawa retorts.

“then just wait until after you’re done to put it away? how long do you even take to put the milk back in the refrigerator that when you come back your cereal gets all soggy?!”

“and aren’t you supposed to be an athlete? i’m seriously concerned if it takes you at least over 15 seconds just to put back a carton of milk.” you take a jab at him.

“i will not allow this oikawa slander from you!” he stops in his tracks before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“h-hey! put me down! i’m heavy, oikawa!” you squirm around in protest, but oikawa shows no sign of letting you go anytime soon as he starts to pick up his pace.

“i didn’t gain all of that muscle for nothin’ baby!” he laughs maniacally as he’s practically full-on sprinting down the street now.

luckily enough, the cafe was just around the corner of the street that oikawa started running down from which meant there was finally a reason for the male to let you down, despite the fact that you had been punching his back for the last minute or so but you couldn’t seem to crack him, his arms, nor those broad shoulders of his.

you let out a huff of feigned annoyance once you’re down on your feet while oikawa is still laughing his ass off as you two walk into the establishment.

“not funny! i almost dropped my hat when you pulled that stunt!” you complain as you’re frantically trying to fix your hair: when oikawa abruptly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, the baseball cap on your head was about to fall off but thankfully with your reflexes, you were able to catch it in the nick of time— however, at the price of your own hair.

“here, i got you,” oikawa extends his hand out to your head and starts to brush away at your mess of a hair. “if it makes you feel better, it’s on the house.”

“i was gonna make you pay anyways.” you stick your tongue out at him playfully, feigning annoyance.

“pft, and you brought your wallet anyways?” he grabs your wrist and pulls it up so that you could see the object in your hands.

“it has my id in it you doofus,” you roll your eyes but there’s a hint of blush on your face as you realize he’s practically holding your hand. “and what if you forgot your wallet, hm?”

he lets go of your wrist before slipping his hand into his sweatpants pocket and pulling out a black wallet.

“i never forget my wallet sweetheart,” he winks and you laugh. “especially if i know i’m gonna be going out with a pretty lady— don’t wanna leave a bad impression y’know”

“i think you’ve already left quite the impression on me from your stunt earlier.” you bump shoulders with him.

“so see anything you like on the menu?” he puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you over to where the menu is so that you could get a closer look at all of the options the cafe had to offer its customers.

“we’ll... we did come here originally for milk bread,” oikawa notices how deep in thought you are over something as trivial as baked goods and he can’t help but smile a bit when he notices the little pout on your face or the crease that forms on your forehead when you scrunch your face a little bit. “but i wanna try their matcha bread! and their boba looks good, or is it a little bit too early to be drinking boba?”

oikawa’s so lost in thought (*correction: staring at you) that he doesn’t even realize that you’ve been trying to grab his attention by calling his name 5 times— and it’s only when you physically have to shake him a bit that he snaps out of his little daydream.

“oh, sorry!” he gives you an apologetic smile. “what’s up?”

“i was asking if you wanted to share one of their drinks with me but you were too busy staring at me to hear.” you sneer. “do you have a crush on me or something? heh.”

“pshhh, no way!” he has a sheepish look on his face that you can’t stop yourself from laughing at.

“you better not go falling for me anytime soon, you playboy.” you jest while nudging him with your elbow.

“i’m pretty sure i should be the one telling you that,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “i’m surprised you haven’t confessed your undying love for me yet.”

“i don’t fall in love that easily, pretty boy, and i certainly do not fall in love with someone i’ve only recently met.” you snort at his comment.

“hi there! are you two ready to order?” a voice startles you and oikawa as you both turn your heads towards a woman standing behind the counter.

“oh i’m so sorry about that! i’m sure you didn’t come to work just to see the two of us play around.” you giggle as the woman mirrors your action.

“it’s nothing new to me, it seems like this place is a hotspot for couples to come and hang out so it’s kind of the norm for me now.” she reassures you.

“are you a college student?” you ask the cashier, taking note on how she looked to be around your age.

“i actually graduated from culinary school about 2 years ago,” she starts off. “my parents supported me throughout my 4 years of culinary school, but when it came down to actually opening this cafe, my boyfriend— well, fiancé now— helped me look for a good place to rent out and it was history from there!”

“it was a bit hard at first since i was still fresh out of culinary school and i could barely start this business with the funds i had saved up, but thankfully my boyfriend was able to pitch in and help make my dreams come true,” she continues and you feel your heart grow fuzzy at how whenever she mentioned her boyfriend, her face would soften and a small smile would make its way onto her face. “i honestly cannot imagine a life without him, he’s been with me since high school so he’s always known about my longtime dream of owning my own cafe. he’s always been my rock during my hardest times and— oh my! i started rambling didn’t i?”

she starts to apologize for burdening you with her life story, but you dismiss her worries by waving your hands in front of you, oikawa laughing and copying your motions.

“i think he’d be really happy to hear that you think so lovingly of him.” your lips curve into a gentle smile, which the woman reciprocates.

“what’s your name?” she asks.

“i’m y/n! and this big guy is tooru.” oikawa waves at the woman, her following suit.

“ah i see! well y/n and tooru, my name is maia and it’s so nice to meet you two!” she brings her hand out for a handshake, which you and oikawa return. “are you two college students?”

“yeah! i’m actually a student at the university of irvine!” you answer enthusiastically. “tooru is just visiting from argentina at the moment so i wanted to take him around the area before he left.”

“argentina, really?” her mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. “it must be hard doing long distance, huh? i couldn’t even imagine if my fiancé and i had to live that far away from each other.”

you and oikawa turn to look at each other in confusion before an invisible lightbulb goes off in both of your heads and you bring your attention back onto maia, who’s now equally as confused as you two are.

“we’re actually not dating!” the pink hue from earlier creeps back onto your cheeks and from the corner of your eye you can see oikawa fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. “i met him at one of the frat parties i went to last week and we kind of just clicked.”

“i’m so sorry for assuming!” she has a distraught look on her face and you’re quick to tell her that it was just a misunderstanding. “you two just look really cute together, plus i’m also really used to a lot of couples coming here that i was quick to assume that you two were dating!”

“i mean, we’d be a cute couple right, y/n-chan?” gone was the nervous oikawa you saw just a second ago, and back was the cocky oikawa you all know and love.

“you wish!” you scoff, not bothering to shrug off the arm he slung around your shoulder.

“anyways, is it alright if we can get two of your milk breads as well as a matcha bread and a oolong milk tea with boba?” you order and maia quickly input the order into the tablet in front of her.

“will that be all for you today?”

“anything else you want, oikawa?” you ask him but he shakes his head in response. “i think that’ll be all for us today then, maia.”

you’re about to insert your card into the chip holder when suddenly oikawa grabs your arm and plucks the card out of your hand.

“h-hey! what are you doing? give me my card back!”

“didn’t i tell you that it was on the house earlier?” he looks at you with a teasing smirk on his face and before you could protest again, a pleasant sound comes out of the machine, signaling that the transaction was successful.

“such a gentleman! you should snatch him up before someone else does, y/n!” maia coos.

“i think it’d be best for someone else to snatch him up, i don’t think i could handle all of... this.” you motion to his entire body.

“are you flirting with me?” oikawa had a shit-eating grin on his face that you were so tempted to wipe off, but his actions from less than a minute ago still caught you off guard and you had to admit, you were glad he wasn’t a cheapskate and offered to pay in your stead— well, more forced you out of paying.

“thanks, oikawa,” you didn’t know what you had the other day to make you act so bold, but you stood on your tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek out of gratitude. “for being the only gentleman on campus, even though you’re technically not a student here.”

out of instinct, oikawa’s hand immediately flys up to the spot where your lips touched his skin and starts to graze it.

“heh, i like your spunk, y/n.” he shows you a cheeky smile.

“don’t let it get to your head, it was just a complimentary kiss.” you laugh and it sounds more melodious than usual to oikawa’s ears for some reason.

“so...” he starts and you let out a small ‘hm?’ which prompts him to continue. “do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“i don’t think so? i have the dorm all to myself from when reina goes to her blind date and up until she comes back, so if you wanna do something then i don’t mind squeezing you into my schedule!” you reply, but a thought suddenly resurfaces in your mind. “no frat parties though, i heard one of iwaizumi’s friends are hosting one tonight but i don’t think i can think about another frat party without having to gouge my eyeballs out.”

“got it, no frat parties,” oikawa chuckles. “if it makes you feel any better, i never liked those frat parties anyways and i only went because iwaizumi is the only person i know here which meant i was obligated to follow him around everywhere but now that i know you, it changes the whole game!”

“i’m just as new to california as you are oikawa, don’t get your hopes up too high.”

“but that’s the fun part about it, right? we get to explore california together! it really feels like we’re a couple don’t you think?” he blurts out in the heat of the moment but quickly comes to realize the weight of his words. “oh shit— sorry... i hope you’re not uncomfortable hearing me say that out loud.”

“not at all!” you look down at your shoes for a fleeting moment before looking back up at oikawa. “it’s quite... endearing? i’ve never really had a lot of ‘guy friends’ and mostly hung around with girls so this is the first time i’ve ever really had a guy show any interest in me— platonically of course!”

“and you’ve never ever had a boyfriend before?” oikawa lifts an eyebrow.

“nope, never even had my first kiss,” you say but you think back to the events that took place last night. “well, up until yesterday...”

you tried to hide the grimace on your face as the memory of you and iwaizumi kissing kept playing on repeat in your mind, but oikawa was able to see right through your mask and clenched his fists as he recalled the distressed look on your face when he and reina found you crying in the bathroom.

oikawa believed that you should have deserved to have your first kiss taken by someone who truly loved you, but instead, it was taken away by his scum of a best friend, who, he was currently disappointed in for treating you the way he did last night.

oikawa is about to open his mouth up to say something, but he’s interrupted before he even gets a chance to say anything when maia announces that your order is ready.

“it smells so good, maia!” you say after you skip over to the other side of the counter and take a whiff of the freshly baked pastries.

“oh you’re making me blush, y/n!” maia cups her cheeks bashfully while you laugh at her antics.

you shake up the cup of boba so that the pearls were evenly distributed throughout the drink before taking a straw and puncturing a hole through the film on top of the cup, taking a small sip after you mix the drink around one last time with the straw.

“mhm! so good!” you lean back, not realizing that oikawa had moved to stand right behind you, resulting in you crashing into his chest.

“shit, you scared me oikawa!” you laugh as you slap his chest. “want some?”

you hold the straw up to his lips, and you notice the way his eyes widen by a fraction.

“you wanna share?”

“well yeah? unless you’re scared of getting cooties or something, what are you? 12?” you tease. “or are you worried that it’s an indirect kiss? i can always get another—”

your rambling is cut off when his lips wrap around the straw and he takes a long sip of the drink in your hand.

“there, we just indirectly kissed!” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before shooting you a goofy grin.

“pft, how childish do you have to be to be freaked out over an indirect kiss.” you mumble, but it doesn’t cover up the blood that rushes up to your face, painting your cheeks in a pinkish hue which oikawa finds endearing.

part one | part two | part three | part four

TAGLIST:

@katsukibabe • @thecaptainyuri • @satorisflatass • @daphnxy • @aonenthusiast • @felixsamour • @literaleftist

+ SEND AN ASK OR SEND A MSG TO BE INCLUDED IN THE TAGLIST!

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 18: Girl’s Night (Heroes/Villains)

AO3

First

Teleporting back into her room in Gotham, Marinette flops onto her bed. Passing Kaalki sugar cubes and Tikki a cookie, she suppresses the urge to scream into her pillow. She was sick and tired of Hawkmoth. Sick and tired of being the one who has to fix everything. She just wanted one week with no Hawkmoth, no akuma attacks. But no. Of course not. Of course he just had to send out a stupid akuma every single day. Because why not. How’re people supposed to know he’s still being the main villain of Paris if he takes a freaking day off? Once she finds out who he is, she’s going to punch him in his stupid face. A knock on her door pulls her from her plotting ways to get back at Hawkmoth.

“Come in.” She sighs, sitting up and forcing a tired smile on her face.

“Marinette, your father wanted-” Selina starts, pausing as she looks her over. “Come on kitten, we’re having a girls day.” She says. Marinette raises an eyebrow. Sure she’d met Selina before, but they hadn’t really hung out yet.

“What?” She asks.

“You look exhausted and angry, sweetheart. Spending too much time with these boys isn’t going to help. So you’re gonna grab anything you need for an overnight trip and we’re going to go watch movies and eat junk food til we’re sick.” Selina instructs. Marinette grins, jumping up and shoving stuff into her backpack. She puts Kaalki’s glasses into her purse and lets her and Tikki fly in before she turns to Selina.

“Ready!” She says, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. It’d been ages since she’d had a girls day with anyone. She was so ready to just take a break and be silly.

“Well come on then. Harley and Ivy are going to adore you.” Selina says, slinging her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. Somehow, they manage to not see anyone on the way to Selina’s car. Which is weird, but it is a weekday so everyone probably had something to do besides sit around the manor. Pulling away from the manor, Selina flips on the radio, the new Jagged Stone song blasting full volume.

“Nice taste in music.” Marinette says with a wide grin. Selina smirks.

“I have to like the man at least a little, his designer is one of my kids after all.” She says. Marinette smiles, a warm feeling flooding through her. Selina didn’t have to accept her with open arms, she didn’t have to treat her like she was her own daughter. But she did, and Marinette was so thankful for that. Thankful that even so far away from her Maman, she still had a Mom there for her. The two nod along to the music, scream singing the chorus together as the car pulls to a stop in front of an apartment building. Marinette glances at the building, suddenly nervous. Would Harley and Ivy like her? Or would they just tolerate her for Selina.

“Don’t make yourself nervous, sweetheart. Harley and Ivy are two of the sweetest people I know. They’re gonna love you.” Selina says reassuringly, reaching over and squeezing Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette lets out a breath before nodding.

“Okay, let’s go.” She says, grabbing her bag and jumping out of the car. She follows closely behind Selina, not wanting to give anyone the chance to get between them. You could never be too careful in Gotham. They walk into the building and go straight into the elevator, Selina pushing the button and leaning up against the wall while they wait. Marinette bounces on the balls of her feet, excitement and nerves bundling together. The second the elevator stops, Marinette’s out, following Selina down the hall. She pulls out a key, winking at Marinette before turning and unlocking the door.

“Honey, I’m home!” She calls, and Marinette’s jaw drops. The apartment was quite literally covered in plants and vines. They were beautiful. She grins as one of the vines near her leans towards her, a small flower blooming at the end of it.

“And who did you bring with you?” A tall woman with red hair asks, walking into the room. The designer inside of Marinette instantly has a million questions about the woman’s outfit. It seemed to be made entirely of plants, but she could also tell that they were still alive. She had no idea how the woman had managed that, but she guessed that it was something that couldn’t be replicated for someone else.

“I’m Marinette. Nice to meet you!” She says with a wide smile. The woman, who Marinette assumes is Ivy, grins back.

“Nice to meet you, Flower. I see you’ve already made a friend.” She says, gesturing to the vine which was now wrapped around Marinette’s wrist. Marinette giggles.

“Well, I was hoping they liked me and that’s what this was. I have a garden back in Paris, and I’d hate to find out plants actually hate me.” She says. Ivy shakes her head.

“No worries there. They adore you, it’s a little odd if I’m honest.” Ivy says, dodging Selina who tries to flick her.

“Did I hear Selina?” Another voice asks, a short blonde woman walking into the room. Her hair was short and choppy, the small pigtails at the top of her head dyed pink. Marinette grinned at the woman’s outfit- a Gotham Amusement Pier t-shirt, Batman pajama pants, and hot pink fuzzy socks. She wondered if her dad knows that Harley Quinn has Batman pj pants….probably not.

“Yes, with a guest.” Selina says, plopping onto the couch and gesturing over to Marinette, who was still standing by her new vine friend.

“Hi! I’m Marinette, it’s nice to meet you.” She says, smiling and waving with her free hand. Ivy whispers something and the vine squeezes a bit before letting go, letting her move away from the door.

“Well aren’t ya just the cutest!” Harley squeals, running forward and giving her a big hug. “Didjya finally join your boytoy’s adopting habits?” Harley adds, still clutching onto Marinette. Selina snorts.

“No, he beat me to her. But she’s definitely mine, too.” She says, making Marinette’s face turn red. Harley coos at her, ruffling her hair before stepping back.

“So what brings ya here? Get annoyed with Bats already?” Harley asks. Marinette blinks in shock. Harley knows? She thinks about it for a minute, and realizes it just makes sense. They’d been fighting long enough and then he started his relationship with Selina, who was one of Harley’s best friends. It just made sense that Harley (who was extremely smart) would put two and two together.

“No, just thought that Mari could use a girl’s day. She’s been stuck with just the boys for over a week.” Selina explains. Harley gasps.

“The horror!” She says, making Marinette giggle. “Come on pumpkin, I’ve got the comfiest jammies ever. Oooo, and we can paint our nails! Ivy, find the movies, Selina, you’re on snacks. This is gonna be so much fun!” Harley orders, grabbing Marinette’s hand and tugging her along to one of the bedrooms, Selina’s laugh echoing throughout the apartment.

“I did bring pjs, ma’am.” Marinette says, once Harley stops tugging her and starts searching through a drawer.

“Bet that can’t be comfier than the ones I’ve got for ya! And call me Harley kiddo, or Auntie Harley if ya wanna.” She says, looking up from the drawer to smile widely. She looks back and cheers in victory, pulling out a pair of bright red pajama pants. Marinette snorts when she notices the logo all over the pants.

“Really?” She asks, giggling. Harley smirks.

“We’ll have to take a picture of us and send it to your old man. Really get ‘im riled up.” She says. Marinette nods excitedly, taking the Robin pants from Harley. This was gonna be awesome.

---

Bruce sighs, looking at the news report from Paris from earlier. The damned butterflies were hard to track. He was used to figuring out problems quickly, and this one was taking too long for comfort. It wouldn’t bother him as much if it was anywhere else, but it was directly impacting his daughter. She was being hurt daily, and she’d even died and now she was plagued with nightmares. All because of a man with some magic jewelry. God, he hated magic. A knock on the study door stirs him from his thoughts.

“Come in.” He says.

“Hey B, have you seen Mari? I was gonna ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with me and Little D.” Dick asks, leaning against the door frame, Damian standing next to him with his arms crossed.

“Not since breakfast. There was another akuma attack earlier, but it wasn’t a bad one. She wasn’t injured.” He says, remembering the completely strange battle from earlier. It was some man with pigeons, and apparently this was the 34th time the man had been akumatized over pigeons.

“Did you not check her room after the battle?” Damian asks, eyebrow quirked. Bruce sighs.

“It was the pigeon one again. I assumed that she’d want to take a nap, if anything. She still hasn’t been sleeping well. Tim said she’s awake every morning when he comes up for coffee, whether it’s three or five, she’s up.” Bruce explains, frowning at the thought of his youngest daughter’s sleep habits. He certainly didn’t need another sleep deprived coffee addict like Tim. It wasn’t healthy.

“Well I already checked her room. She wasn’t there.” Dick says, and Bruce frowns, pulling out his phone to send a text to Tim and call Jason. One of them had to have seen her. She never left the house without telling one of the family, unless it was for a battle.

“What.” Jason says gruffly, Bruce is just grateful he answered. Up until a couple of months ago, Jason would have rather thrown his phone in the river than answer one of Bruce’s calls.

“Have you seen Marinette?” He asks, getting straight to the point.

“No? Why? What’s wrong?” Jason asks, and Bruce hears shuffling as Jason rushes around wherever it is he is.

“Nothing. I’ll call you back.” He says, hanging up. He glances down at his texts and notices Tim hasn’t seen her either. He frowns, but doesn’t panic yet. Pulling out his computer, he pulls up the tracker that was on each of his children’s phones. He scans the map, frowning when he sees that her phone is still in the manor. In her room. He stands and swiftly moves past his sons to get to his daughter’s room. He knocks, waiting for an answer. None.

“Marinette?” He calls, knocking again. “I’m opening the door.” He warns, pushing it open. He frowns at the empty room, nothing appearing out of place.

“Do you think she had to pop back to Paris for something?” Dick asks, coming up behind him. Bruce shakes his head.

“No, she would have told us. Suit up, she has to be somewhere in-” He stops as his phone chimes. He looks at it and feels all of the tension leave his shoulders.

Took our youngest daughter for a girl’s day, back tomorrow XO. Of course Selina had her.

“She’s with the Sirens. She’ll be back tomorrow.” Bruce says, suppressing a smile at the annoyed look on his youngest’s face. She was safe, and that’s what matters. Even if he was certain he’d have to listen to Damian complain for the entirety of patrol.

---

“Make all the boy moose go WAAAAAAAAA!” Harley says with the movie, laughing loudly. Marinette chuckles, passing Tikki a cookie in her purse before sticking another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

“I still like the first one more.” Selina says, taking a sip of her wine. Harley sticks her tongue out at her before turning her attention back to the movie.

“Do you think Mia is secretly a superhero?” Marinette asks, frowning in thought.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Ivy asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even Harley pauses the movie to turn and stare at her.

“Stan Lee.” Marinette says with a shrug.

“Is that s’posed to mean something to me, kid? Cause I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Harley says, obviously confused. Marinette huffs.

“Stan Lee makes a cameo in this movie. And Stan Lee is the creator of Marvel, right? He’s made a cameo in like, every single Marvel movie. So is Mia secretly a superhero? Is that why he’s in the movie?” Marinette rambles, almost flinging ice cream at Selina as she gestures crazily.

“Sweetie, how much sleep have you had in the past three days?” Selina asks after a few moments of silence.

“Not important. Is Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia, also a superhero? Does she secretly work for SHIELD? Or is she more like Iron Man, like a freelance superhero? Was she a hero in San Francisco too? Or did she take over a hero's mantle when she moved to Genovia? Cause she was really clumsy in the first movie and also super awkward, but now she’s less clumsy and she seems to be more put together, but are heroes really put together? I don’t think so. I think sometimes heroes pretend that they’re put together to make everyone else feel better when in all reality they’re seconds away from a breakdown themselves. Is Stan Lee coming to recruit her for SHIELD? Is that why he’s in Genovia? Does SHIELD have any jurisdiction there? Is there a Genovian branch of SHIELD?” Marinette rambles, suddenly stuck on the topic. Seriously, why is Stan Lee in Princess Diaries 2 if Mia isn’t a hero? Why would he-

“Kitten, take a breath.” Selina says, her hands on Marinette’s shoulders helping her to ground herself. Marinette takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She blinks a few times, instantly feeling bad.

“I’m so sorry.” She says, frowning.

“What for?” Harley asks, looking confused.

“For ruining girl’s night.” She says quietly. Selina pulls her into a tight hug and Marinette sinks into it.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin anything. I don’t know everything that’s going on. But what I do know, is that you rambling out a conspiracy theory about the movie we’re watching is not ruining girl’s night. Trust me. One time, we invited your brother Dick, and he ate all of the cookies by himself.” Selina says, Marinette snorts. Of course he did. “Now that’s a way to ruin girl’s night.” She adds, squeezing her once more before leaning back.

“Let's watch something that we can just get lost in and not have to think at all.” Ivy suggests, looking through the stack of dvd’s. Marinette glances over, eyes instantly catching one of her favorite movies.

“Legally Blonde?” She suggests, Harley squeals.

“That’s it, you’re officially ours. Brucie can fight me.” She says, putting in the dvd. Marinette laughs, laying her head on Selina’s shoulder, grabbing a handful of popcorn. She could get used to nights like these.

Next Chapter

Bonus chapter: Harley Vs Bruce

Drawing of Harley and Mari’s pajamas

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

Scream

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Synopsis: It’s been a year since your mother was slaughtered, with no leads pointing to any possible suspects. It’s been an up-hill battle for you to accept what happened— especially with no answers or closure— and the citizens of your hometown have been sleeping with one eye open ever since. But now, the mystery killer has decided to make an anniversary visit, and is making it known that they not only have a dire love for infamous horror films... but they also have their targets set on you and all of your closest friends.

Word count: 8k

Headline: Small Town Woodsbroro Is Waking Up Screaming Once Again!

Warnings: dark themes; Gore; Smut; Crackhead humor (only because I promised my bff I’d give her an honorable death scene); Foul language; Jungkook is psychotic; Graphic depictions of him killing your mom/friends; we’re also going to pretend that it’s outrageously easy to get away with murder; dont fact check me on anything you read here; rough sex; mask kink.

Admin: @tatertotthethot

Baley was high as a fucking kite.

So high, that she didn’t care about it being 1am as she blasted the Cha-Cha slide at full volume.

So high, that she was completely disregarding her lactose intolerance whilst making herself a triple layered, sharp cheddar grilled cheese that was bound to have her ass blasting right back off by 3am.

So, outrageously stoned, that she was totally unaware of the masked killer standing just outside the glass doors in her kitchen, watching her every move.. With her beat up, hogtied boyfriend laying out next to him.

“Now it’s time to fawnky! To the right now—“

She crab walked along with the instructions, spatula in hand.

“To the left!”

“Take it back now, y’all.”

Ghostface grimaced beneath his mask, eyes stalking the stoned woman with disdain. She was the epitome of “crackhead energy” and it pissed him off how much she resembles you. It only makes sense, being as you two have been best friends since kindergarten— probably soulmates in a past life— but it is within that fact that Ghostface has grown to absolutely fucking loath her.

She’s too much like you. She keeps up with your humor and probably has more of your heart than he, himself, has earned a place in yet. He knows good and well that if it ever came down to you having to pick between him and her, you’ll pick her.

That simply will not do. That’s exactly why he is about to rid you of that option— or, as he sees it, the dilemma.

He growled and swung at the air, wishing he could just bust in and end her already.

“How could you be in love with that creature?” He hissed at Taehyung, the built-in voice box beneath his mask altering it enough to remain anonymous. The question was quite hypocritical, being as he was in love with a girl that most would consider Baley’s second-half, but only you were an exception to being so.. abnormal.

“Mmmph—“ Taehyung drearily gurgled out from beneath the strip of tape over his mouth, tears breaching his eyes as he watched Baley’s precious, uncoordinated ass do the “Charlie brown”. It looked more like a fucked up gallop.

“What is the sex like, dude?” Ghostface ripped the duck tape off Taehyung’s split lips. “That’s a serious question.”

“Boo bear..” was all Taehyung could muster up, more scared for her than himself.

Ghostface gagged and slapped the tape right back on with a little too much force, having to take a second to regain his composure before pressing the call button on Taehyung’s phone. The Spotify music thankfully cut off as her phone rang out from the counter.

Baley was only upset for a split before she spotted the name on her phone screen, and was quick to answer it with a sickening amount of glee.

“Angel muffin!” She cooed. Gross

“Hi, boo bear..” Ghostface flipped his middle finger up at Taehyung before clutching his Bowie knife back down to his side.

“Oh my God, What was that? You sound like Corpse, mixed with the bear from Five Nights At Freddy’s.”

“The bears name is Freddy, dumbass.”

Baley neck rolled back in offense.

“Are you trying to get pegged or prolapsed? Might wanna remember who the fuck you’re talking to, the next time you call this cellular.” She snapped, hanging the phone up with a viscous pout. She still somehow managed to pick back up on the beat and cha-cha’d real smooth as she took the pot off the eye and turned the stove off, visibly upset.

Ghostface stood there for a moment, processing what she just said, before turning towards Taehyung.

“She claps your cheeks?”

Taehyung glared back at the screaming-ghost mask, bracing himself when a gloved hand reached out to once again rip the ductape off his lips.

“It’s not sus!” He immediately defended. “I have a gspot up there for a reason. I am not ashamed to use it.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that!” The killer snapped out. “why would you let that.. unstable individual insert something into your rectum—“

“You’ve got a whole lotta nerve calling somebody else unstable,” Taehyung deadpanned, and with that, his mouth was once again resealed shut.

He called Baley’s phone again, just as she was about to take a bite of the sandwhich that she’ll, unfortunately, never get to eat.

“What, fucker?” She scorned.

“I can see you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She sarcastically spat. “Then what am I doing?”

She clenched her buttcheeks in and hunched her back out, her body resembling a question mark, before vigorously gyrating her body- mostly just her spine. Jungkook knows from the various tiktoks you’ve shown him that he was witnessing the inverted-twerk.

“Hm? Tell me, fuckboy. What am I doing?”

”Something a fucking cockroach does after I spray Raid on it. How the fuck do you clench your buttcheeks like that?”

Baley halted in mid thrust, surprised but not exactly fearful (yet) as she whizzed around to face the sliding glass doors that led into her back yard. It was pitch black outside, and all she could see was her own reflection starring back at her. She was also too high to care about the fact that she had the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and the strings pulled all the way out, which only exposed the center of her face in a squished circle.

“I use my glutes. You know that. Why haven’t you come in?” She asked, not superstitious but a lil-stitious.

“This isn’t Taehyung.”

“Okay, Isn’t Taehyung. Why haven’t you come in?”

“Because I want you to come out here.” The killer responded, grinning at the visible unease finally creeping into the girls stance.

“Okay, babe— I hate to be a bummer here, but considering that today is the one-year anniversary of Ms. (L/N)’s murder, this isn’t very Cash Money of you. Can you please just come in and.. stop?”

He let out a chuckle, a dark one.

“Boo bear?”

“What, Isn’t Taehyung?”

“Turn on the outside lights.“

Ghostface put the speaker on the phone and sat it on the ground as he crouched over Taehyung, pulling him to sit up straight. He watched as Baley apprehensively padded over to the light switch by the door. He could practically feel her heart beating in-sync with Taehyung’s racing one as he placed the knife to his neck, smiling beneath his disguise.

The lights flickered on, and she screamed, terror finally bringing the seriousness out in the situation.

“HANG UP OR MOVE A MUSCLE AND HE DIES!” The killer roared, knowing she was still too high for her survival instincts to kick in. Any sober, sane individual would’ve probably caught on to the fact that they were gonna die no matter what she did. What was just making it easier for himself, knowing her dumbass was gonna comply.

“W-What do you want me to do?”

See?

“Be a good girl, and come here.”

“Quit trying to seduce me, you sick son of a bitch. My boyfriend’s literally right there!” She croaked out, voice shrill with exasperation.

The killer plunged the knife into Taehyung’s arm, making him jolt to life with a pain-filled howl. Baley began sobbing out, apologizing profusely.

“Your boyfriends going to get gutted like a fish if I have to repeat myself. Drop the phone and come here.” Ghostface seethed, wrenching the knife back out on the last word.

Baley reluctantly— and stupidly— did as told. She let the phone fall from her hand, then jumped out of her skin as the Bluetooth reconnected in the house and started playing WAP. She tried not to sing along despite the situation as she padded over, shaky hands rising to cover her mouth.

“N-Now what?” She asked.

“I just figured your last words should be said face-to-face. Is there anything you two would like to say to each other?” He asked, that being the only generosity he’d be willing to spare as he ripped the tape away from Tae’s mouth, one last time.

Baley dropped to her knees, so much despair in her eyes. So many things she wanted to say. She recollected herself and caught her breath in just enough time to utter final goodbye: “I-I-I said certified freak..”

Tae’s eyes closed as a single tear escaped, nodding his head in understanding. “Seven days a week...”

“GAH!” The killer roared out, wrenching Taehyung’s head back to slice his throat before shoving him away and lunging at Baley.

She landed on her back with him on top, and he wasted no time as he began slashing her apart, in any way he possibly could. He let all the pent up rage and annoyance he felt towards her, out on her body. It was worse than the brutality he inflicted on to your mother this time last year. He’d only stabbed her a total of 19 times— one for every year she failed you as a mother. With Baley, he didn’t stop tearing into her until WAP ended. And damn, did it feel good. He finally felt like he’d purged his soul clean.

This may all seem reckless, but Jungkook was actually just lucky. In order to mask his true motive behind all this, he had to find another one to cover it with. It was simply convenient that Baley’s father is the town mayor, and after a little digging, he made the grand discovery that he was also having a secret affair with (Y/N)’s mother. In fact, the mayor had several mistresses throughout the town.

Jungk—er, Ghostface.. chopped off one of Baley’s fingers and slid the glass door shut, writing the same words on it that he wrote on your mother’s bathroom mirror.

CHEATING PIG!!

Yes. When he did this last year, the police had to dissect through your mother’s long line of past sexual partners, and had to track down the father you never met for an interview. No leads came about, because it was all time wasted, anyways. Now, with this new addition, the mayor will not only have to set the scandals ablaze again by having to publicly confess his infidelity to the town and police, but they’ll have to lead on another pointless investigation for every woman he’s cheated with— over a dozen of them. They’ll have to also charge him with withholding crucial information from the investigation as well, but what’s so fucking comical about it all is that.. NONE of it has anything to do with any of this. It’ll just be another cold case with no leads.

And maybe, just MAYBE you’ll be smart enough to ditch this place and come with him. That’s all he wanted. You have nothing left and nothing to come back to now, and as long as you give in to him and leave, there won’t have to be anymore lives taken. You could start a new life and never experience another hell like the one he’s creating here. If only you’d say yes.

“May you both continue to clap each other’s cheeks in the deepest depths of hell,” he told the mauled corpses as he walked off, so happy to have Baley gone that he almost wanted to skip to his car.

Now, he will go home and clap your cheeks to complete the cycle.

—

“Damnit, bitch, pick up,” you huffed in frustration as Baley’s FaceTime continued to roll over, telling you that she’s unavailable. You thought you could power through today with your newly adapted ability to suppress shit, but it was hard when you’re left alone to reminisce. You just couldn’t shake the fact that the date on today’s calendar marked the same day that your heart, soul, and peace of mind was so horribly torn apart.

It didn’t help that you also missed your mother terribly. She wasn’t always the best, but she still loved you, and you loved her. Oh, God. Mom—

No. No. Don’t think about her.

You tried calling Baley one more time and couldn’t fight off the tremble in your hands, nor the tears at your water ducts as it rung through till the end. Damnit.

You couldn’t be angry. She doesn’t owe you the company— especially since you two have already been FaceTiming all day. But she was good at distractions, always able to drag you out of your shell of deprecation with her chaotic sense of humor. She is one of the only two people you have in your life that are capable of doing such, but you knew you’d get scolded if you blew up the others phone. Jungkook hates being hounded and rushed, having already told you that he’ll be there any minute. But he’s taking way too fucking long it seems, and you just hate sitting here, waiting.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. The feeling first crept up on you this time last year and never left. You felt so venerable to the cruel world when you’re alone, especially since the maniac is still out there.

You still resent the police department for practically giving up on your mother’s case after 9 months. “Cheating pig” was the only lead they got and yet, it pointed them no where. She wasn’t in a relationship. She didn’t even like relationships. And still, they deemed it a randomized attack— no leads, no motives. Nothing. Just a local woman stabbed in the chest 19 times while taking a shower. Like some Psycho remake. No signs of forced entry. No evidence of sexual assault. Just a very passionate, yet unexplainable massacre with a useless message left behind.

It doesn’t make sense. And even though you wish to never have the attacker come back, you can feel it in your bones that they will wish to clarify it one day.

“Fuck it.” You breathed out, heart slamming against your chest and paranoia gnawing at your insides as you quickly scrolled to Jungkook contact. But then, just as your thumb twitched to press the call button, your door bell rung and you sprung up to your feet, making a mad dash to the door. You checked the peep hole first, just knowing it was gonna be him, but was disappointed when it wasn’t. That still didn’t keep a rush of relief from washing over you when you did see who it really was, though. You forced a welcoming smile on to your face as you unlocked all 7 bolts from the door, and opened it to greet Namjoon and Hobi with a hug.

They were cops, currently in their uniforms, also old friends from highschool. They’ve been looking out for you ever since last year, always making sure you knew you were safe beneath their watch. They use to take turns guarding your house until they were told to stop, but you were extremely happy to see them both here at the same time tonight.

“Everything okay?” Hobi asked, having noticed the shake in your limbs during the brief embrace. He leaned back and observed the tension in your eyes, even though you were hoping to hide it.

“Yes, just— today,” was all you could say, and didn’t have to clarify for them to understand.

“That’s why we’re here. We got permission to guard your house tonight,” Namjoon explained, eyes drifting over your shoulder and into your house. “Are you alone?”

“Yes, but Jungkook should be here any minute now. He had to go to South Korea for a week for his fathers birthday and just flew back in tonight, but apparently there’s been some huge wreck on the main highway and everyone has been stuck.”

That bit of information was actually true. However, Jungkook was lucky enough to have just miss it.. because he’s the one that actually caused it. It was honestly dumb-luck as to how he did it, but kind of amazing when given details.

He was in the express lane, him and the car behind him hitting 80mph. He recognized the car as the one that was parked beside his back at the airport, because he had stopped and took a moment to judge the driver for how worn down and raggedy the tires were. One bad pot hole or nail in the road would strip that sucker straight from the rim.

And that’s exactly what inspired him as he recognized the car, an idea sparking that could soon serve as an alibi in the future. He already had a hand out the window, smoking a cigarette. He still has those iron steak-nails he used at his construction sight. They’re 5 inches in length, subtle enough to casually drop out of a car window along with the cigarette. If they hit just right...

He gave it a try, honestly thinking it wasn’t going to work.

But holy fucking hell, did it. Not even a second after he dropped it, did the car suddenly swerve out as it’s tires screeched and sparks flew. Rubber scattered out amongst the road as the car continued to spin out, getting struck by a the car in all 6 lanes of traffic, ultimately causing a huge pile up in just under 10 seconds. It was the most destruction he’s ever witnessed and it happened so fucking fast he almost ran himself off the road just watching from the rear view mirror.

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Jungkook had squawked out as his head rapidly whipped back and forth to witness the massive mess he just created behind him. He was smiling like the maniac he is, undoubtably impressed with himself. He did it so lazily, too. But it only pumped him up even more for what he needed to do- the whole reason he even thought to do that. He only wanted something major enough to buy himself maybe an hour’s worth of time, so that when/if he gets interrogated in the future, they can check the traffic reports for a registered wreck to fit his alibi. But considering that he just shut the whole damn highway down, it’ll not only register but definitely make tonight’s news.

“Ah, yeah. We heard about that. 36 cars piled up. Can’t believe nobody was killed.” Namjoon said.

“How the fuck did that even happen?” You wondered, baffled.

“Some dickhead was going 80 an hour on an old tire and it wiped out after hitting a nail on the road. Thankfully, he only has a broken nose and whip flash, but with all the cars that got totaled— I don’t even want to know how much the cost of damage would be. But it caused 5 miles worth of traffic back-up.”

“Mm..” you grimaced, shaking your head. “Well.. would you guys like some dinner? Maybe some Coffee?”

“Ah, thanks, but there’s no need. We’ve got all the energy drinks and McDonald’s we need. You just chill out for the night, we’re right out here if you need anything,” Hobi assured, making you genuinely smile for the first time in the past two days.

But that was just before a familiar car pulled up that had your mood skyrocketing.

“FINALLY!” You broke out, sprinting down the steps and over the driver side of it right as the man of the hour stepped out. He welcomed you with open arms and easily lifted your feet up of the ground.

He looked just as good as he smelt. You’ve missed him more than words could describe in this past week— and Jungkook knew it. Of course, he had offered to take you with him so that you could finally meet his parents. But as predicted, you declined, saying that it’d be too much to meet his mother when the anniversary of your own’s death was approaching.

You continued to squeeze your arms around his neck for the next several seconds, and it wasn’t until he heard you sniffling and felt your shoulders shake that he realized you were crying. He couldn’t help but like that type of reaction. He was hoping the distance would torment you, maybe teach your ass a lesson.

“Don’t cry,” he rumbled in your ear as he pressed you hard against his lower half, making sure to up the intimacy of the embrace as he felt the eyes of the onlookers in the yard.

He waited for a second before peering over at the officers, who were awkwardly standing beside their cars. He gave a wave, pretending as if he were sheepish about them having to witness this.

“How’s it goin, guys?”

“Fine, fine,” Hobi responded. “Don’t mind us. We’re just here to watch out for you guys.”

“I appreciate that. Really.” He said in his best acting voice, even flashing a dimpled grin that gave off nothing but innocence as the two got into a patrol car, nodding to him in welcome. It actually makes things more convenient for him. They’ll be able to backup his whereabouts later on.

He pondered this while returning his attention to you, coaxing you out of your emotional outburst.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been so hard not having you here. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re back.” You breathed in and sighed out, and he could tell by the end of the last sentence that you were more-so talking to yourself, clinging to him one last time just to greedily soak in the physical presence of his body. He felt something ache in his heart, as well as his jeans.

“Well, I’m here now. Maybe next time, you’ll just go with me,” he lightly chided, hand coming up to pet your head as he kissed the top of it.

“Yeah.. I started regretting it after the first hour you left.” You whispered out, meeting his lips. You kissed each other a couple times, probably more than necessary. But it calmed you down and made you feel steady again. “Come on, I made you something to eat.”

He got his duffel bag out from the back seat and slung it over his shoulder before taking your hand, following you inside. It boosted his ego knowing that the two men watching from the tinted windows of the car were secretly jealous of him. They had a thing for you. Almost every straight guy in highschool did. That’s why he never minded what you wore, and was more than happy to let you flaunt yourself to their eyes. He liked teasing others, knowing they’ll never have such a prize as you.

Once inside, you were quick to relock your bolts. You were very strict about that now, taking extra precautions to prevent a potential attack. It kind of humored him knowing that it was him, a resident inside this very home itself, that those locks were meant to keep out. You’re literally locking yourself in with the killer.

“Damn, you cleaned the hell out of this place.” He ogled, not only taking in the immaculacy but smelling the pinesol and bleach amongst the floors and counter tops. All the laundry was folded, not a speck of dust in sight. You even cleaned the grout amongst the kitchen flooring, it seemed. Nothing looked out of place.

“I had to do something to keep from wigging out,” you shrugged, walking over to start the microwave for him to heat up his dinner plate. He left his duffel bag by the door and grabbed himself a beer before sitting at the table, noticing it’s prestigious shine.

“Did you polish it?”

“Yeah...” you said as you scratched the back of your neck, somehow embarrassed.

“It’s looks amazing in here, kitten. Really. I know you did it to cope but still, you did a damn good job.” He praised, feeling a little bad. He knows this took a lot of work, and it sucks that you opted to do all this just to keep the anxiety of his absence away.

“Thank you,” you sighed, taking his plate out and sitting in down in front him, then handing him some utensils.

“Where’s your plate?”

“I already ate, silly. I’ll munch with you, though.” You began making yourself a salad as he began to eat, complimenting you on how good it was. He doesn’t know that you’ve been awake for two days straight, and that you’re still battling off an anxiety attack. You were expecting it to vanish now that he’s here, but the sleep deprivation was getting to you.

So, you decided to reminisce on better memories. The old days; back when you first met him.

It was senior year of highschool, and he was the new transfer student from South Korea. He was the punk-emo guy that stood out amongst the crowd. All black clothing, more band shirts than anything. He had that messy mop-hair going on, and approximately 6 piercings on each ear, along with a studded labret to boot.

From day one, he was the most attractive guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. Much to his exterior trope, he was anti-social and didn’t seem friendly at all. The only time you personally heard him speak for the first few months of school was when he’d answer the teacher for roll call.

You only had one class together, chemistry. He’d always sit at the back of the classroom, and you’d remember the giddiness you’d feel just before walking into class and making eye contact with him, even for just a split second. You heart always skipped a beat and would threaten to seize up whenever Baley would lean over and tell you that he was looking at you again. Of course, that would be all the interaction you could get, being as you refused to engage any further. But life seemed to play out like a Wattpad fic back then.

Around the middle of first semester, your teacher was fed up with all the chatter amongst friends, so she decided to assign seats. Jungkook’s was still at his designated one, but you had to sit directly in front of him so that Taehyung could sit closer up, next to Baley. It’s also thanks to that class that the two of them fell for each other. It was also the same day she issued a partner-assignment that had to be done with the peer behind you.

You remembered having to play it cool, turning your desk and chair around to face him head-on for the first time ever. You anticipated that he’d still be sporting that ice-cold, disinterested glare, but he actually seemed pleased. He wasn’t actually smiling but he had a friendly glint in his eyes, like he welcomed you.

“Hello,” he started off, naturally confident in himself.

“Howdy,” you responded, immediately hating yourself. You’ve never uttered such a word in your life and you don’t know why the fuck you decided that that was the perfect moment to try it out.

He only snorted back at you, though, amusement swirling in his colorless eyes. You were intimidated by that as well. They were jett black. No distinction between his pupils and his irises. Just solid, black orbs boring into you.

You then continued to battle with basic communication.

“So, uhm.. wh—..”

English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?!

“What parts do you wanna do?” You rushed out.

“I’ll get the information together and answer the questions, as long as you create the PowerPoint and present it to the class,” he said without missing a beat, as if he’d already decided on that for the both of you.

“What criteria, though?” You asked, still waiting on that part.

“All of it...” He reiterated in a “duh” tone.

“That’s not fair to you, though...” you continued.

He arched an impressively sharp brow. “How?”

“You’re literally doing all the hard work.”

He shrugged, and you tried not to drool when you saw all his rings and the veins on his hands and fingers as he took his phone out. “I learned this shit back when I was freshman in South Korea. We’re way ahead of y’all there.”

“Oh.. well.. I can at least do the images and label them.”

Stop starring at his fingers.

“Mm,” he hummed with a lack of conviction, still looking at his phone. “No offense, but no.”

“Uhm.. okay..” you frowned in dejection, not sure how to respond to that.

“I said no offense,” he grinned up at you apologetically. “I just know you’re bad with visualizations.”

“What? I have an A in here. How do you even know that?”

“The teacher got onto you for messing up the labels on the last test. You got all the functions right but failed to match them to their description.” He said without any hesitation, and you were just as stunned as you were embarrassed. But he didn’t seem to be insulting you, and even reassured you of it. “Again, no offense. I just think it’s best for the both of us if I do it.”

“Okay. Cool,” You agreed, deciding to let him have it. Your face still burned, though.

“You still have an important role, don’t worry. Presentation is worth 40%, so you’re still gonna have to put in work and present it accordingly.”

“I can do that.” You nodded, suddenly feeling like you were sitting before a full grown man rather than a teenage boy. You couldn’t help but ask: “How old are you?”

“19,” he mused, as if he knew what you were thinking. He didn’t even ask you why you asked, and instead returned his attention back to his phone screen. “You?”

“18,” you muttered, your eyes reconnecting to his hands like magnets.

You really wanted to compliment them but decided against it, being as you were no longer as confident with this situation. Sure, he deserves to know how beautiful his hands are but you’re weren’t going to be the one to say it. You were expecting a cheeky personality at most, just because it fits the mischievous bad boy bullshit you read about in teen fiction, but you were instead met with a blunt and mature persona that made you intimidated in a way that you’ve never experienced before. He almost seemed.. authoritative to you.

“I see you like my rings.” He smirked, eyes not even looking back up at you. You had spaced out whilst tracing the path of his veins again, and immediately cut your eyes down to your own phone, feigning innocence.

“Whatchu mean?”

“Everyone like my hands, for some reason. I see you’re no different.”

“I ain’t even looking at your hands. Maybe you’re just too conceded,” you shot back, leg nervously pouncing as he lifted his head up to peer at you.

“Really?” He sarcastically challenged, making your insides stir. He sat up straight and pulled his hands back under his desk. “So the gold rings didn’t even catch your eye?”

“Your rings are silver.” You said without even thinking, then straight up face-palmed when you caught yourself.

“Thought so.” He openly grinned, and the little notion caused butterflies to erupt in your tummy. He pulled his phone back out and still wore that playful grin of his as you bashfully held his gaze. “Now, if you think you can manage to tell the truth, what’s your phone number?”

It’s amazing looking back at those memories, because you’re now starting to think that maybe Jungkook just knew back then that you two were going to hit it off. He’s always seemed so sure of himself when it came to you, always knew what the next move was gonna be and never once sent mixed signals or struggled to express how he felt towards you. He’s the most straightforward person you know, so much that it’s almost unnatural at times. If he was ever bluffing about anything outside of being playful, you’ve never been able to call it.

But damn, are you madly in love with him. You guess his ability to always remain focused and blunt is perfect for a person like you. He keeps you moving... well, for the most part. He wants you to move back to South Korea with him, and although you know you’ll eventually give in, you’ve been trying to hold off on it for as long as you can.

It won’t be as easy for you as it was for him. Jungkook was already fluent in English when he came here, thanks to his mother’s bilingualism. He hardly even had an accent from how well adjusted he was to your language. You, however, don’t know a bit of Korean. For you to go there, it would impair you in almost every single way. You won’t be able to go anywhere without him. You won’t be able to read directions or road signs. You won’t be able to go out and eat or order off the menu if there isn’t any pictures. You won’t be able to work. You’ll have to adapt to a whole new culture and way of communication, just to properly function outside of your home without him at your side.

Which, brings along another point, you’ll be without any friends. You don’t want to live in a world where you can’t go out with Taehyung and Baley whenever you wanted. You’ll be lonely as hell and home sick, he’ll be your only source of humanly contact until you learn.

You’ve told yourself that if the two of you remain stable for one more year, then you’ll go. You are ready for a change, but if you could just get one more year of preparation, you’ll be ready to go. You’ll take that leap of faith with him.

“What is it, kitten?” He finally asked, the prolonged silence getting to him.

“Nothing,” you lied, but didn’t want to divulge. “How was your trip?”

“Nice, but I was bummed out the whole time.” He shot you a look that made you pout in apology, but continued. “I talked all about you to them, showed them pictures. Almost fucked up and showed my cousin your vagina.”

You choked on your salad, which made him laugh. “I told you to put those in your hidden folder.”

“There’s so many, I just haven’t taken the time to pick them all out. It’s okay though, they only saw your face. They all think very beautiful— especially my mom.”

Your smile grew at that, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So does my grandmother and my aunts. They were passing my phone around more than the dishes.” He snorted to himself, “They were even more surprised to see how much I smiled in our selfies. Which... I should warn you, when you do finally see my parents house, don’t be surprised when you spot our photo booth pictures framed in the hall. My mom went feral when she saw how much of a simp I was being in those.”

“She printed those out?!” You almost cried.

“Yes, she did. She printed each one individually and framed them side-by-side.”

“Aw, Kookie. I should’ve just went. I’m so sorry.” You pouted, guilt causing your heart to sink.

“You weren’t ready, angel. They understood,” He assured you, leaning forward to take your hand in his. You suddenly wanted to cry again.

“But I promise to go next time. Or whenever you wanna take me. I swear, I’ll go.” You said in determination, and was a little thrown off by his reaction.

His face went blank for a moment c like his brain needed a second to buffer.

“You will?” He inquired, that being the first time you’ve actually agreed or expressed any type of want. “Why now?”

“Because it sounds like they really want to meet me, too? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. That’s great. I just figured you wouldn’t be moved by that. You really wanna go now?”

“Yeah. Your family sounds so nice.”

“Was that what kept you from coming?” He interrogated, and it’s clear that he genuinely had no faith in you ever entertaining the idea.. which was a little disheartening. You’ve never said you’d never want to go, you’ve always kept a window open for later. You not sure why he’s so surprised.

“No, not necessarily. I wasn’t ready to meet them but if they’re that excited to meet me, then.. of course it’ll make me want to meet them, too. And get a little taste of South Korea.”

“Alright, I’ll plan a trip,” he had to say with forced enthusiasm, which you bought as you kissed his lips. Inwardly, though, he was screaming. If all it fucking took was a little conviction by saying his family was nice, just to make you consider.. them maybe he wouldn’t have had to do what he just did.

Whatever. Extra insurance. He had to tell himself, and decided to retrain his thoughts back on you as he remembered something.

“I have a special surprise for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he stood up and walked over to his duffel, fishing around before pulling something out. “Close your eyes.”

You did as told, and waited about 10 seconds.

“Open.”

You almost shit yourself upon hearing the voice, then came closer to shitting yourself when you took in the familiar Ghostface mask that you seen in the movie Scream.

“WHUZZZUUHHH!” He drawled out while doing the cowabunga fingers, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“Halloween store. I got it in Korea.”

That was a lie. He’s had two of these masks for over two years, both of which he got from Party City here in America. He bought one to kill your mother in— the same one he just wore to kill your friends in— and the other one was meant for what he wanted to do now. He wanted to fuck you with it on. He’s not sure why, but why not? You might discover you have a mask kink.

“What the fuck is up with the voice?”

“Sexy, ain’t it?” He animatronically purred out, and it wasn’t until he fully stepped forward and began undoing his belt that you realized he was already shirtless.

Your eyes grew wide as you landed back in your chair, unable to decipher if this was a joke or not. You soon realized it wasn’t as he was now popping his button loose and unzipping his pants— his hardening dick print becoming more prominent.

“You’re not fucking me with that mask on,” you blurted out, sticking your foot out to stop him from advancing any closer.

“I’m fucking you with this mask on,” he argued, grabbing your ankle. “Consider it pay back for the time you refused to give me head unless I let you wear your Burger King crown.”

“No, Darth Vader.” You tried pulling your leg back but soon wound up almost getting drug out of your chair and onto the floor. Your unease soon turned into giggles and screams as wound up besting your play fight, his mask only coming off long enough to go down on you at the kitchen table.

And that’s what set the night off. You went from getting your pussy eaten at the dinner table to getting your throat wrecked on the living room couch. Then you were forced to watch yourself get rammed up against your body mirror in the bedroom, and now you’re bent up like a pretzel amongst your bed.

“Ah— GAH!” You grunted in struggle, finding it hard to cuss like you wanted being as a hand was firmly constricting your air supply. You watched the masked man above you as he heatedly fucked into you, his chain dangling above your face. Your ankles helplessly swayed around his shoulders with each brutal slap of his pelvis. Your face still stung from the actual slaps of his palms, causing you to flinch any time his hands moved. You noticed done time throughout all this that he was hellbent on making you look at that damn mask. You weren’t complaining, though. Just more-so concerned about how hot it must be under there.

But then he slowed down for a moment, trying not to cum again as he lowered his face to yours, and finally decided it was time it come off, being as you were ready for a kiss.

“T-Take that damn mask off—“

Wrong move.

He growled and ripped your hand away as you tried removing it yourself, and you were stunned by how much aggressive he became— more aggressive than he was already being, as if truly lashing out. He man-handled you, flipping you over and plunging back into you with way too much force. You yelped at the intrusion but could do nothing else as he pinned your hands behind your back, picking his speed right back up. He kept your hands locked in place with a single one of his own before clapping the other around your mouth, darkly chuckling at the fright on your face.

“I meant it when I said it’s staying on,” he rasped, pushing into you so deep that veins protruded from your neck in strain.

He couldn’t explain it— or maybe he could. But he felt extremely powerful when he wore this mask. It took him all of two rounds to finally admit to himself that it turned him on, knowing you were getting off to the very same face that your loved ones last looked at in sheer terror. He didn’t realize up until then that he somehow considered Ghostface as a different alternative to himself, one he was growing to like a little too much. It even made his dick more sensitive to the feel of you, making you seem tighter. And warmer. And sluttier.

He’s sure he began speaking Latin somewhere in the midst, but it wasn’t until he saw tears surfacing in your eyes that it dawned on him that his hand had somehow traveled up to cover your nose, as well as your mouth. A moment of panic shot through him when he dropped it and allowed you to breathe, thinking you were gonna make him stop. But much to his pleasant surprise, you only coughed out and mewled, head collapsing on the pillow as you pushed against him, a silent demand keep going. So he did. He made sure to keep the punishing pace up and running. Your body violently jolted with each slam, ass bone aching at the brutal impact. Each thrust was felt like a punch to your cervix and someway or another, you were okay with it.

Little did he know, it was actually because you didn’t want any type of deja vu happening. He fucked you in all the ways you liked the night before you found out that your mother was slaughtered inside your childhood home. You didn’t want tonight to be anything like it. So you let him hurt you.

If only you knew history was going to repeat itself, no matter what the two of you did.

It didn’t take but a few more strokes before he lost his ability to hold off, and emptied himself inside for the third time since he’s arrived back.

Once he did that, the blinds were illuminated in a dim grey, hinting at a sunrise. After a quick shower and clean up, the two of laid there, the mask finally gone.

“What are you thinking, baby?” Jungkook wondered, starring up at the ceiling. You haven’t said much of anything since that last bit. “Did I hurt you? Scare you?”

“No. I could take it.” You said, and it sounded genuine. But he still wanted to know what was on your mind. “I just don’t know what the hell I would do if I didn’t have you. You’re the only person I know that’s never even accidentally done wrong by me. You’ve been nothing but good.”

A void clouded his mind, emotional absence taking place of everything else. It’s a defense mechanism that he’s certain only comes up to block out any sense of guilt or remorse. He kept his gaze up at the ceiling, even as he felt you crane your neck back to look up at him.

“I love you, Kookie. Thank you for being here.”

“I love you too, baby,” he said numbly, those words being true... but his next words were not. “I could never imagine myself doing anything to hurt you.”

Being as he wasn’t planning on looking down, you crawled up for a moment just to kiss him, unbothered by the distant stare in his gaze. You then laid back down and got comfortable, readying yourself for a good days sleep.

“I think it’s finally time I start seeking happiness again, instead of contentment.”

That’s when it hit him. You didn’t notice how his heart cleaned beneath your head, nor was there any way you could feel the tension in his gut. He can’t say he feels full remorseful for what he did, because that would require him sympathizing for the innocent lives he’s taken away, with no rational reason. He simply didn’t feel anything for them. He was only concerned your pain, especially knowing it was unnecessary now. His trip to Korea was enough to motivate you to move on and consider a change of scenery. You didn’t need any fear to drive you out, you just needed time. God only knows how far of a set back this will be now. The fact that you’re laying here, currently thinking that life will only go up from here, when he knows damn good and well it’ll be in shambles again before the day ends..

He really needs to work on his impulses. Maybe homocide shouldn’t always be the first option he leans towards. It was just more fun that way.

But moments like this weren’t fun at all. He remembers how grueling it was last year, waking up with you at the sound of the doorbell going off. He remembers the grim look on the sheriffs face as he told them that they found your mother, dead. It was his arms that had to pick you up off the floor as you crumbled down and screamed, his ears that rung as he held you, not knowing how to console you. For the last year, it’s been his shoulder you’ve cried on, his company keeping you sane, his reassurance telling you that everything was going to be okay.... When it was his hands that caused every single bit of grieve all along.. and was about to cause even more.

So, he did the only thing he could do in that moment. He held you and mentally apologized, hoping that there was some way to telepathically tell you that you mean more to him than life itself, and that’s he’s so sorry for letting it drive him crazy at times. He’s still clinging to the original intention that you’ll say fuck it and flee with him, but he regrets going about it so recklessly.

You were fast asleep now, snoring even. He only hoped the discovery of the bodies would hold off long enough for you to get some much needed sleep. But it seems the universe was done working in his favor.

Those same, familiar knocks sounded off at the door, and he immediately ordered you to stay put as it woke you up.

“Probably just them checking up. Go back to sleep.” He whispered, assertively pushing your head back down and pulling on some sweats before going to the door.

It was the sheriff, same look on his face as last year.

“Sir?” Jungkook frowned, posing cluelessly.

The sheriff looked ghostly pale, like he was nauseated and on the verge of tears. Jungkook knew why but he had to act like it was a throw off.

“Sir..?” He repeated.

“Y’all’s friends.. Baley and Taehyung were found this morning.”

He had to stall and blink, as if he wasn’t catching on to the implications. The sheriff reluctantly continued.

“Baley was found, dead on arrival. Looks like the killer has returned.”

“Wh-What?” Jungkook stuttered, acting like he was bewildered. The sheriff’s next words, however, would spark a more genuine reaction.

“And Taehyung was found unconscious, but still alive.”

Jungkook’s veins ran colder than ever before, all mimicked emotions becoming sincere in that moment.

“Someone attempted to cut his throat, but aimed too high and cut his under jaw instead.”

Jungkook could only stare at the sheriff, probably just as pale in the face now.

“He’s in critical condition. Doctors don’t know if he’ll make it just yet, but there’s a fighting chance that he might.”

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