#now i just have a bunch of mosquito bites on my hands . they seem to like them . | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 3 years

Text

Sometimes You Have No Option

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: scar mentions, mostly just vague nothing too graphic at all, very quick mention of the ‘heat death of the universe‘, it’s one throwaway line but just to be safe!

Summary: Virgil wonders what Roman gets up to on his adventures that leaves him battered and bruised. What he finds isn’t what he expected....

---------

There was always this unpleasant feeling that followed Virgil whenever Roman came back from traversing the mindscape on an ‘adventure’; sometimes he’d come back bruised and bashed, other times he’d sport a limp, but nearly every time, Roman would come home with new scars.

Virgil couldn’t understand the appeal of it, though far be it for him to say anything about it. Sure, maybe it did hurt a little seeing someone he cared about come back each time more banged up than before.

But that's none of his business, right?

Virgil wondered just what Roman got up to each time he went out. He’d never seen the things Roman could conjure outside of the main mindscape; some called it the ‘imagination’ but they were already within the imagination technically. No, what Roman would conjure was more like a simulation within the mindscape, as far as Virgil understood it. Like adding an extension onto a home…. Only to tear it down once you were done with it in the end.

Perhaps calling them ‘daydreams’ was a more accurate comparison.

There were many times Virgil would let his own imagination run wild with the kind of journeys Roman must have gone on. Forests and kingdoms, perhaps a seafaring adventure if Remus agreed to not set the kraken on him. Or maybe he branched out even more. Something like the spaceports of Treasure Planet, or something more akin to a spiritual journey you’d find in a Ghibli movie. Who knew what Roman was up to most days, honestly.

It was a lazy Saturday in the mindscape when Virgil finally decided to ask Roman about it.

He hadn’t necessarily planned to do so, but Logan and Patton were both busy elsewhere, and all Virgil had to do was watch TV and contemplate the inevitable heat death of the universe when Roman had returned. Mismatched eyes latched onto the creative side as the prince made his way to the kitchen. He winced as he watched Roman root around for frozen peas and press the bag to his left cheek.

The injury was just out of Virgil’s sight, but as Roman turned and made eye contact, he could see the beginnings of a bruise forming. Despite the way the sight made Virgil’s lips pinch into a frown, Roman met him with a smile that made his stomach do flips as he made his way over to the sofa,

“What’s that look for, Woe Troham?”

Virgil snorted, “Wow, we’re getting obscure with the nicknames now? You’re really earning that extra credit in Emo Studies, Princey.”

Roman rolled his eyes fondly and sat down next to Virgil, careful of the anxious side’s bunched up legs, “You do realise we ALL went through Thomas’ emo phase, right?”.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Whatever...”, he was about to leave the conversation there when he remembered the matter at hand, “Hey, uh, Roman?”

“That’s what they call me, yes.”, the creative side smirked playfully, “Typically preceded by ‘Prince’ but I’ll cut you some slack this once.”. Virgil wanted to slap that smirk away. Or maybe smooch it. The jury was still out on that one.

He sighed in mock annoyance, “Can we cut out the nonsense for once, Romano?”

He bit his lip to stifle a chuckle at the insulted huff Roman let out.

“Okay, seriously, I was gonna ask what happened,”, Virgil continued when Roman fixed him with a perplexed frown, “Y’know, to cause that.” .

He freed one hand from his hoodie paws to gesture to the bruise under the frozen peas in Roman’s hand. Said creative side shrugged, “It’s nothing to worry about, Virge. I’ve had far worse before.”.

Oh great, because that’s what Virgil was absolutely dying to hear.

The words left his mouth before the anxious side could stop them, “.. Can I see?”

Okay, that had to have crossed a line, surely. Those scars were probably super traumatic or heavy with meaning, or perhaps they were-

“Okay.”, Roman shrugged. He was already hauling his shirt off by the time Virgil had registered how casual Roman was about this whole thing. He was about to voice his confusion when Roman’s shirt fluttered to the floor; leaving Virgil with a moment of gay crisis, but even more so a feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach.

Roman’s entire torso was covered in scars. Some were fresh, likely only days old, while others were already paling with time. The anxious side had no idea where his hands obtained the audacity to trail themselves along Roman’s skin without permission, but the creative side seemed content to let him continue.

Surprisingly confident fingertips traced valleys and trenches of healed and healing skin, only ever stopping on each route if Roman protested. Virgil had no idea why Roman let him even do something that felt this intimate in the first place, but the question that bubbled out of his throat instead was, “What…. Happened to you?”

He expected Roman to turn away, to dramatically cover himself once more, perhaps muttering a barely audible “some things are left unsaid” or “it’s…. Personal”, and then he’d retire to his room while Virgil did the same and let his mind swim in it’s usual cloud of anxious self depreciation.

What Virgil did not expect was for Roman to immediately start pointing them out and listing every single cause like it was his grocery list.

“Well!”, Roman began, pointing to a scar on his left hip, “This is one I got from accidentally laying down on a light bulb.”

The prince pointed to more scars as he went, all too oblivious of Virgil’s stunned silence, “This one here is from running through corn stalks with my shirt off, and that one was a mosquito bite I scratched, which yes I know you shouldn’t do that, but you know how dreadfully those itch.This one here is from the time I tried to fight a goose- Oh! And this one I procured from falling out of a window during an impromptu tickle fight with Remus-”

“Why does anyone try to fight a goose?!”, Virgil blurted out. Of all the rapidfire information his brain just tried to absorb, he wasn’t sure why that was what his brain latched onto, but he couldn’t exactly take back the question now.

The anxious side watched Roman’s expression take on a distant, stoic edge, but having known him so well by now Virgil knew the prince’s fake dramatic long distance stare a mile away. “Sometimes,”, Roman began, and Virgil did his best not to give a fond huff of annoyed laughter at the creative side’s faux drama tone, “The goose leaves you no option-”

Virgil couldn’t stifle the peal of laughter that slipped through his teeth and betrayed his irritated facade. The whole conversation had been an emotional rollercoaster but Virgil was mostly just happy that even if Roman was constantly getting into scrapes, at least it was nothing overly serious. By the time Virgil had stopped laughing, he realised Roman had also fallen victim to the case of the giggles.

“You’re ridiculous, goddamit, Roman!”, Virgil snarked weakly, the gentle smile he wore betraying any attempt at true irritation. Roman simply continued to beam at Virgil, brilliant and bright, a beacon of pure adoration.

“That’s a rather funny way to pronounce ‘handsome and dashing’, but I’ll take it!”

It’s unfair that Roman got to be so well put together while Virgil was just standing there, hands still resting on Roman’s bare chest, blushing up an absolute storm. Something about the way Roman smiled at him - so gentle and adoring - made Virgil want to do something crazy.

Like kissing him.

Yeah.

He should kiss him.

No, wait, he absolutely should NOT do that.

In fact, Virgil caught himself just as he was leaning towards Roman, intending to turn away. However, Roman’s arms snaked their way smoothly around his waist, keeping him close but still remaining loose enough that Virgil could break away if he wanted.

“.... Virgil, can I ask you something?”

Roman’s voice was hesitant, a little less sure of himself than his expression implied. To save himself from embarrassment by not subjecting Roman to any barely passable attempts at a verbal affirmation, Virgil nodded bashfully.

Roman’s gaze landed on Virgil’s lips then settled back into half lidded eye contact, a small quirk of laughter dancing across the prince’s features.

“Am I the only one who’s been subtly flirting this entire time? Because if so, I am going to be utterly scandalized.”

Even Virgil was surprised by the relieved laughter he let out; it was the ugly kind that gave away just how smitten he was with Roman. He tapped his fingers against Roman’s chest, humming playfully.

“Hmmm, looks like you’ll just have to be scandalized, pretty boy.”, he teased.

Roman’s shocked expression was too cute, how could Virgil resist? The anxious side sighed out a low chuckle, rolled his eyes, and lent forward to reward him with a much earned kiss.

-----------

We love us a couple of pining dorks

Based on this post and so I tag @count-woe-laf as promised!

#my fics #prinxiety #roman #virgil #fanfic #fanfics #prinxiety fanfiction #this is basically a shitpost piece #but I'm working on other stuff and it's been so long #I wanted to give you all smth soft and fluffy to read

148 notes · View notes

mindofasupernova · 3 years

Text

The Inventor Part 3

Kaz Brekker x reader

Description: A killer is on the loose, eliminating Kaz's informants. In a desperate attempt, Kaz meets a certain inventor that has his mind racing, trying to figure out the complex puzzle she is.

When the news of a murder in Von Raske's autumn ball reached Kaz's ears, his breath froze, an icy hand tightening his grip on his heart. Lord Von Raske was a close acquaintance of the Grand Duke Y/LN, fear invaded his mind, a single statement playing on repeat like a broken melody: Y/N had been there.

Dirtyhands had immediately sent Inej to check up on Y/N while he tried to distract himself by finishing paperwork. Two weeks had passed since their secret rendezvous, two weeks since Y/N had given him the list of components that created the poison and in those two weeks, he hadn't contacted her.

The next morning, he and his crows had spent the whole day making inquiries about possible buyers and indentured Grisha acquiring an excessive amount of alloys. No luck. No one knew anything. The only thing he had gotten were another two corpses with the same symptoms.

He had refused to call Y/N despite the little voice in the back of his mind telling him to bring the brilliant inventor, who would surely enjoy an excuse to abandon her royal life for a few hours. Even when there were no new bodies, these whispers urged him to arrange another meeting so he could just hear her chatter about dissections methods as if she were talking about the weather. Kaz shook his head, tossed his treacherous thoughts into a vault in the back of his mind while scolding himself for wanting the company of someone he barely knew.

Kaz thoughts kept drifting back to the inventor, too worried for her safety that he failed to notice Inej's presence in his office until she quietly spoke.

"She's alright, Kaz, but she believes these murders aren't just an act of vengeance against the Dregs. She wants to meet again to share her theories." Kaz glanced up, evaluating Inej words.

If it weren't for the tragedy at the ball, he would have kept thinking some other gang wanted to initiate a war against the Dregs, but now he was sure this was deeper than a petty quarrel.

Kaz nodded, analyzing the spy's face. Eyes dropping down to Inej's hands, she wore what looked liked to be a set of thin brass knuckles, two rings adjusting at her pinkies and index fingers that joined a smooth metal band facing her palm. Before Kaz could open his mouth, Inej answered his unspoken question.

"Y/N made them for me. She told me she'd noticed my chipped nails and slightly blistered hands from climbing flat buildings. She fabricated these, they work as some type of magnet, using the force of momentum and creating friction on plain surfaces." Inej's gentle voice explained, an endearing look as she stared at her knuckles.

"She gave me some truffles to bring back to the club, she thought Nina might like them."

He hadn't failed to notice Inej's troubled expression when he had ordered her to go to the Y/LN Manor. Whether he wanted it or not, the brilliant royal was worming her way into his Crows' hearts.

Kaz hummed in response, "We are meeting tomorrow at 9 in the morning, I'll tell Jesper to deliver a note."

"I'll do it right now. I want to try these." Inej gestured at the brass knuckles and without a word slipped out the window.

____________

Y/N

"Need a ride, doll?" Mr. Fahey called out, opening the hansom's door, inviting Y/N to hop inside.

Yesterday, Inej had silently returned to her room, bearing Kaz's news about the meeting. Y/N's heart thrummed excitedly in her chest, the notion of seeing the Crows again lighted up her day.

Y/N had told Ms. Ghafa she'd investigated around her social circle and that they needed to pay a visit to Mercher Dupont's valet, Dupont's most trusted employee.

"Greetings and thank you, Mr. Fahey" Y/N said politely as she stepped inside, taking a seat next to the Wraith.

"Why are you so sure the valet will have the answers we are looking for? Is he related to those theories you wanted to speak of?" interrupted Kaz, always so straightforward.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Brekker. And they aren't just theories. You see, after the very unfortunate incident at the ball, I took it upon myself to investigate Mercher Dupont's whereabouts in the past two weeks."

"Whereabouts? What does that have to do with his murder?" the raven-haired boy pondered.

"Everything. Someone knew he'd be returning from his secret trip today and that he would go directly to the ball. It's quite obvious actually." Y/N said, watching the streets distractedly through the window as the carriage started moving.

"It's not obvious to me." voiced Jesper.

Y/N turned to look at her confused companions. Kaz frowned deepened when the girl turned to him, waiting for him to show he understood. When she was met with silence, the corners of her mouth tugged upwards, clearly proud she had noticed something the infamous criminal mastermind had not. Kaz didn't share her enthusiasm.

"When Mercher Dupont arrived at the ball he was jumpier than usual, eager to avoid conversation with anyone. It was clear he had traveled outside the country: his skin was tanned, constantly scratching and pulling at his sleeves covering what were likely mosquito bites. His shoe soles were stained with grass and an orange stain, probably jurda, laces had been recently cleaned but messily tied as if he had been in a rush to arrive on time. Jurda, mosquitos, and scorching sun at this time of year, we can only find those three in Novyi Zem." Y/N beamed, words tumbling out of her lips as if her life depended on them.

"Besides, my mother talked with his wife this morning. The poor woman said that weeks prior he'd raced into his hansom, disappearing for two whole weeks and when he had finally returned, he and his valet refused to tell her a thing." the inventor finished, just as the carriage stopped moving.

"Wait, I thought we were heading to Dupont's residence." Y/N interrupted, as the trio jumped down the carriage, a few blocks away from a jewelry shop.

"Tell me, Y/LN, would you like to see what we do for a living?" Kaz asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I did not come here to witness a robbery. Much less to help with your wicked schemes." Y/N retorted, a defiant raise of her head, body betraying her when she stepped out of the carriage as well.

"I thought you'd enjoy participating in illegal affairs since you seem so eager to associate with a bunch of criminals. Where's your sense of adventure?" Kaz taunted with a smug look on his face.

"I left it on the carriage and would very much like to go back to get it." returned the girl, crossing her arms and straightening her posture. "If you believe my willingness to help you indicates I relish taking things from others then, you are awfully mistaken."

"How do you know you don't like it if you've never done it?" Jesper joined in.

"There's nothing like a heist early in the morning." the sharpshooter said, twirling his guns before hiding them in his coat.

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh but followed nonetheless. Kaz Brekker will be my downfall.

__________

Jesper took the driver's place, dismissing the coach, being their "escape driver" as Kaz had dubbed him.

Y/N entered the shop first, a veil covering her face, and pretended to be deeply interested in some ruby rings. She was only there to watch, Kaz had assured.

A few minutes later, Kaz walked in wearing a security guard uniform, where he had managed to obtain one, Y/N had no idea. He slowly prowled to the counter, adopting his role with such grace that it stunned Y/N. When he reached the vendor, he started conversing with him as if they had known each other for years.

Every step, every gesture, every word was calculated. In another life, Mr. Brekker would have made a fine actor. A very charming and talented actor. The thought crossed Y/N's mind before she could stop it. Kaz Brekker was a dangerous man, he'd heard the horrified whispers that preceded his name, a heartless monster that terrified the streets of Ketterdam.

But now that she knew him, Y/N wasn't sure if he was as despicable as the rumors stated. He could have taken her hostage when her identity was revealed, betrayed what she had been doing in Mr. Zhang's shop in hopes of earning money, but he didn't.

Most importantly he had never doubted her abilities when he discovered she was a woman, never belittled her as many high-class men had done. In fact, she could have sworn Kaz was pleasantly surprised when she'd earnestly started the autopsy. His lips barely tugging upwards, when she handed him the list.

Y/N had also noticed how he was always covered head to toe, not a sliver of skin showing apart from his head. She had perceived the way he always avoided touches, careful of not brushing against anyone, staying away from big crowds. It made Y/N wonder why skin contact repulsed him, she wanted to figure out his enigmatic persona and discover the reason for which his heart raced.

"Fire! Fire!" with a startled jump she came back to reality, eyes landing on the blazing curtains near a thin metal drawer that was slowly melting in revealing golden necklaces.

Y/N desperately hoped this wasn't Kaz's plan, by now everyone inside was aware of the fire, quickly pushing to get to the exit. Y/N squinted her eyes at the smoke, looking for Kaz, scared he had been injured during this little stunt. But before she could call out his name, she was being pushed outside.

Y/N hurried back to hansom where Jesper and Inej were already waiting, rapidly swirling around, she almost bumped into Kaz's chest.

"That's your idea of fun?" Y/N questioned, sending a murderous glare Kaz's way, a mask to hide her relief at finding him safe and unscathed.

"Says the person who finds joy in carving corpses open." Kaz retorted, his infamous smirk widening and stepping inside the hansom, closing the door after the two girls. "But it worked, didn't it?"

Y/N turned to look at him in confusion, Kaz's smirk widening when he pulled a pendant from his coat, but it wasn't any ordinary piece, it was THE Pink Star Necklace. This necklace was the source of the hottest gossip, created by a durast master as a gift for the upcoming arrival of a Shu dignitary's daughter.

"Incentive and distraction. I knew this necklace was kept in that shop, I just didn't know where." Kaz explained proudly "The obvious instinct was rescuing the most valuable piece inside."

"That being the necklace, delivered into your waiting hands." Y/N laughed, an incredulous grin at Kaz's ingenuity.

The rumors were true, he indeed had a wonderful mind. The crime of the century without even lifting a finger. She couldn't help her smile, wondering what other tricks Kaz had under his sleeve.

"Very clever, Mr. Brekker. I'm impressed."

Kaz's smug look never faltered but his eyes softened "You've just seen the beginning."

_________

The valet had been lounging outside when they arrived at Dupont's residence. The three crows and the inventor approached, Kaz skipped straight to the point without waiting for pleasantries. After several unanswered questions and the valet affirming he couldn't tell where his master had disappeared to for the last couple of weeks, Kaz looked ready to bash his skull with his cane.

However, before his blood painted the white roses red and Y/N had a new body to examine, she quickly intervened.

"Does Mercher Openheilmer know of your affair with his sister?" and just like that, the valet was desperately sputtering the whole story of his life out.

Apparently, Mercher Dupont had woken him up in haste, ordered him to fetch the carriage, and to drive to Fourth Harbor as if the Devil himself chased after his soul. When they had gotten there, his master had hired a schooner and Captain Wagner's small crew to Novyi Zem apart from that, he knew nothing more.

In a quick bumpy ride, they arrived at Fourth Harbor looking for a certain Captain and his crew.

"Blackmail. Who would have thought Marchioness Y/N performed such ghastly deeds." Kaz mocked, while they walked to Wagner's petit schooner.

"Oh hush, you're just mad I didn't let you beat the valet up."

Kaz raised a hand, gesturing for all of them to be quiet. Heavy grunts and shattering glass could be heard from inside the ship. Inej drew her knives and Jesper pulled out his pistols, each one went their own way while Y/N trailed quietly behind Kaz as they entered the dark rickety schooner.

The captain's quarters were a mess, papers scattered and drawers open, someone was in a hurry. Y/N saw a shiny pistol laying on a coffee-stained desk, it was loaded, she hesitantly grasped it, adjusting her grip like he had seen Jesper do. She had never held a gun before, but any form of protection was welcome.

Swirling back around, Kaz was nowhere in sight, with uncertain steps she stepped into the adjoining room, shakily raising the gun. A burly blond-haired man, Captain Wagner, shoved clothes desperately into a suitcase, he froze and stared wide-eyed at Y/N. The man was sweating, pudgy hands shaking, ragged breaths escaping his mouth, he was terrified.

"I mean no harm, I simply wish to talk about one of your clients, Mercher Dupont." Y/N raised her hands in surrender, daintily placing the gun on the floor not wanting to scare the man further.

The captain nodded, taking a step forward, but before Y/N could utter a word, he lunged at her knife glinting in the moonlight. A surprised gasp left Y/N's lips when the man shoved her to the floor. Captain Wagner pinned her down, knife raised in a direct line to her throat. When his hand dived to meet its target, Y/N desperately raised her hands catching his grip, a poor attempt at preventing the sharp metal from sealing her fate. Wagner pushed harder, merely seconds before her blood decorated the cabin's walls, a crow's head sunk into the plane of her attacker's shoulder, eliciting a broken scream from the man, and with a swift kick to the ribs, Kaz yanked the man off of Y/N. Drawing quivering breaths, Y/N sat up and watched as Kaz pressed the hill of his boot into Wagner's injured shoulder.

"Why did you attack her and why in such a hurry? Why was Dupont so eager to leave for Novyi Zem?!" Kaz growled, rage blazing in his midnight eyes.

"P-Please, I got nothin' to do with Dupont's business," Wagner whined, a sharp cried pierced the air when Dirtyhands shattered his shoulder blade with a quick jab. Y/N tore her gaze away, when she turned to reprimand Kaz about his ways, the animalistic glare he sent her way snapped her mouth shut.

"He hired my crew to get him to Novyi Zem, paid good money if we never told anyone about his trip and the many oil barrels he'd insisted on carrying there." he whimpered, trying to free himself from Kaz's visceral grip.

"If I had known the four members of my crew would end up dead for his secrets, I would have never done it. He said his life depended on the secrecy and when I saw your little friend there I thought she was here to kill me just like Dupont. "

"What did he do with the oil barrels?"

"I don't know, Saints! He brought back a Zemeni man, though. P-P-Please, I have done nothin' wrong."

-----------

No one spoke during their walk back to the carriage, a thick silence hung in the air accompanied by the coopery scent wafting from Kaz's blood-splattered clothes.

Y/N was the first to break the silence, "Where are we headed to?"

"We are going to gather information and you are going back home." Kaz harshly replied, voice dripping anger.

"But-"

"No Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?! How more stupid can you be, lowering your guard down?!" Kaz snapped, black charcoal eyes burning a hole through her head.

"The man was trembling, I didn't want to scare him. I-"

"Kindness gets you killed! What was I thinking bringing down a pampered foolish rich girl who wants to play detective!"

"Kaz, there's no need t-" Jesper started.

"No, Jesper! She's a liability! We could have lost Wagner because she refused to use a damn gun!" Kaz snarled, chest heaving.

It would have hurt less if Kaz had slapped her, his words gnawed at Y/N's heartstrings. And yet, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing the broken look on her face. Y/N schooled her features into that false look of indignance and serious arrogance she had practiced all her life.

"Very well, Mr. Brekker. It's getting late after all" she stated. Inej's comforting hand fell upon her shoulder, she smiled even when tears threatened to fall and glanced at the bleary world outside.

_____________

Fine, if Mr. Brekker isn't willing to speak anymore, I'll take matters into my own hands. Three days and no sign of Kaz. It's okay Y/N reassured herself, she could navigate the streets of the Barrel just fine.

After they had talked with Wagner and discovered Dupont's unseemly affairs that caused the death of four sailors who were also Kaz's informants, Y/N had traveled to The Exchange and after probing for answers (more like blackmailing dealers with Zia Francesca's never-ending gossip) she had gotten the address to a small house where most of the chemicals in the list had been delivered.

Pulling out a gun she had stolen from her father's collection, Y/N knocked on the door. She had failed to use a gun once and it had cost her honest companionship, she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

The door swung wide open; a sickening smell floated in the air. A scent that made Y/N's eyes water, the scent of something rotten.

Taglist:

@getawayfrommewerewolf, @rika90, @princessleah129, @lady1505

#shadow and bone #six of crows #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker x reader

95 notes · View notes

bangtansocean · 3 years

Text

Letters: Part 01.

Synopsis: Good things never last long, and unfortunately, his promises were a little too good to be true.

⏤𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: taehyung x reader // slight yoongi x reader

⏤ au: [Historical Fiction, soulmates au]

⏤𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Heavy Angst, smut, fluff

⏤𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: mature content [18+]

⏤Word count: 3.1 K

Chapters: 01 l 02 l 03

click here to go back to master list

___________________

“With love, Taehyung.”

Fragile hands slowly fold the dainty piece of paper back into its envelope as you let out a disappointed sight. At least he is doing okay, you try to convince yourself. Deep inside, you were very happy for Taehyung. He was given the opportunity everyone dreams of, working for the royal family. Since you two were little, Taehyung would always talk about his dreams and go over all the plans he had for you both.

“...And when I’m older, I’m going to become friends with the royal family, the prince and I are going to be like brothers.” nine year-old Taehyung tells you with a smirk, squeezing your hand as you walk through the field of daisies on your way back home.

“They are going to give me a title, and some land! From there, I will be able to build us a house where we can move in together! But I have to ask your mom if we can get married first, of course.” He teasingly bumps his shoulder to yours as you giggle, being flustered by his words. “You look so beautiful when you get all shy and your cheeks get rosy.” He says sweetly, looking at your now red face that’s gazing at the ground you are walking on, too afraid to look into his eyes that seem to carry the entire universe.

Taehyung has been your friend ever since you have memory, and he has been your crush since then, too. You went to the same park and lived fairly close to each other. Your mothers were friends, and they would always take you to the market to buy candy and new books for Taehyung. He would always invite you over so he could read you his favorite books, and even taught you how to read and write; which is something you were very thankful for, since girls were not allowed to go to school in your area, and you eventually grew a big passion for reading thanks to him.

“You know, y/n.” little taehyung starts, letting your hand go to pick some flowers from the field, and giving them to you with a small grin but a very serious gaze. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life,” he says, now smiling, showing you a smile that had some teeth missing. “I want to take care of you, and make you happy. To be by your side in any shape or form,” you can feel the tears starting to build up in your eyes.

Taehyung and you were so young, yet you felt so much love and care for each other it was overwhelming at times. How could such small bodies carry so much emotion? How could you feel so in love at only eight years old? “ I-...I just want to make sure you always have a smile on your face. You look so pretty when you smile.” he continues as he reaches to dry the tear that has fallen from your glistening eyes. Rubbing his thumb delicately on your cheek, he wipes the tears off your face with a comforting smile. “You deserve to be happy, and cherished and taken care of... like a princess!” he exclaims with a lighter tone, making you smile while you rest your cheek on his hand.

“You told me I was already a princess.” you pout, making his heart skip a beat.

“And you are one” he says as he leans closer, leaving a tender kiss on your cheek. “You’re my princess.” he whispers close to your ear. He meets your eyes once again, sealing his confessions with one look, you know, he really means it. “But one day, I’ll make you a real princess, and I’ll be by your side when it happens, I promise.” He reaches out to hold your hand once again as you continue to walk back home, the comfortable silence filling the space between you two all the way to your doorstep.

“y/n, dinner’s ready!” the faint voice of your mother brought you back to reality. You took one last glance at the envelope before placing it inside the dark green box, next to his other twenty three letters he has written you since he left, five months ago.

You close your eyes for a second and shake your head trying to get out of your soppy thoughts and emotional state. You took a few deep breaths trying to calm yourself a little, knowing your mother will bombard you with a thousand questions about Taehyung, and the last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of her.

Once you felt strong enough for what was coming, you left your room and walked the long hallway towards the kitchen. Your mother is humming a song while she serves the cold bean soup she made on two bowls, turning to you when she feels your presence in the room.

“How's Taehyung doing? Everything alright?” she asks, concerned look on her face.

“He’s alright, you know he always dreamed about working for the royal family, so he is doing really well, he even became close to the prince.” you tell your mother excited. Your mother smiles at the news, giving you a plate of soup and pointing towards the table, taking the other plate with her and sitting right across from you.

“Oh thank heavens!” your mother laughs. “I knew Taehyung was always destined to be someone big! Next thing we know, Prince Yoongi will grant him a lord title!” she laughs again, shaking her head in disbelief. “I always knew he was eager to be the best he could be, but I never thought he would make it so soon!” your mother is now blabbing about all the crazy plans Taehyung had shared with your mom throughout the years. You can’t really focus on what exactly she is saying, but you keep nodding at her while you eat your food. “...I can’t wait for you two to get married, you are going to give me the loveliest grandchildren any old woman could ask for!” you choked on your food as she looked at you with a hopeful gaze.

“Mom!” You cough trying to recover from her last comment.

“I’m just saying! Taehyung is a very handsome guy, I’m surprised you guys haven’t tied the knot and sealed the deal yet, if you know what I mean.” She winks at you while she takes a spoonful of soup to her mouth that is now decorated with a perverted grin.

“Mother!” you gasp at her bold statement, dramatically dropping your spoon on your plate. Your cheeks turn a scarlet shade.

“I’m just joking!” she laughs. “I’m glad you guys are waiting until marriage, I think it's very honorable of both of you to do so.” she says on a higher pitch mocking you once again, but this time, instead of replying, you just nod. You feel your body heat up from the embarrassment as you slowly take the spoon to your mouth, humming as a response to her words without taking your eyes off your soup.

She knows you guys have had sex, or at least have taken things further than a few innocent kisses. Your mother is a very smart woman, and you, a terrible liar. There have been many times she heard Taehyung's laugh coming from inside your room at unholy hours, followed by you waking up the next morning with multiple ‘mosquito bites’ all over your neck and chest. She has always rooted for the two of you to end up together, and out of all the guys in town who have tried to court you, Taehyung is her favourite.

“Good thing you are going to be able to see him soon, don’t you think?” she asks you, looking at you with soft teary eyes. Is she going to cry? You try to analyze her words and the question takes you by surprise. What does she mean by soon? You frown in confusion.

“But he is not coming to town until next month…” you tell her quietly, moving your soup around the plate with the spoon, quickly losing your appetite. She would never joke about this kind of thing, would she?... No, she wouldn’t. Your mother was a crazy lady, but she would never play with your emotions like this.

She sees the distress in your face as you try to understand her last statement. Abruptly, she stands up from the table and slowly turns to grab the handful of letters that came in earlier today, Taehyung’s letter being one of the ones that arrived within that same batch. Your mother takes a golden envelope from the bunch and stretches her hand towards you.

“Taehyung’s letter is not the only thing that came in today for you.” she shakes the envelope in her hands, inviting you to take it.

Still confused, you take the envelope and slowly open the fine and expensive paper that was decorated with golden detailing on the corners, only to be found with a letter addressed to you.

“Dear Miss y/f/n”

It is with great honor that we contact you to inform you that we have received your application letter, and to congratulate you for being selected to work in the royal kitchen as our new maid and kitchen helper.

We hope to see you around the castle before the week is over, so you can start your training. We look forward to meeting you, and to have you in court to serve our beloved royal family.

Safe travels and see you soon,

The Royal Kitchen.

___________________ ___________________

“If you have any questions or need anything, come find me in my chambers, but only if it's before 2am, after that I can’t guarantee I’ll be of much help!” you both giggle. “Welcome to the team Miss y/n, I’m excited to have you around.” Seokjin exclaims as he finalises the kitchen tour.

“Thank you so much, Chef.” you bow as he turns around and walks towards the oven, where today’s bread is being baked for lunch.

“Oh darling, call me Seokjin. We are basically bound together for the rest of our lives now, we better get comfortable with each other.” he winks at you and laughs when he sees you looking around the kitchen, not knowing what to do as you hesitate to offer your help. He can read right through you, so he decides to talk again.

“Hey, Jimin.” Seokjin calls the guy who had just finished stocking the bags of rice in the kitchen storage. He turns around with a smile, wiping his sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“Yes, sir!” Jimin exclaims jokingly as he mimics a soldier's salute. Seokjin loud laugh blasts again through your ears. This man's laugh could kill a whole army by how powerful it is. Seokjin shakes his head at his best friend's antics, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

“Why don’t you show y/n around? maybe take her to a quick tour around the gardens before we have to go upstairs to serve the royal lunch, then we can show her around the castle together.” He shifts in his place, feeling a little anxious, hoping Jimin will show you around and help you get more familiar with the castle. Jimin 's eyes sparkle at Jin’s offer. He's excited with the idea of getting to know you more, and hopefully making a new friend in the castle, which makes him smile even wider.

“Would you like that?” Jimin turns to you with a smile plastered on his lips, waiting for your answer. You nod and smile back as Jimin shakes his fists excitedly like a little kid which makes you and Jin laugh. He is so adorable. “Well then, let’s not waste more time!” he walks towards you and interlocks your arms together once you are close enough. He guides your bodies towards the kitchen’s back entrance. “See you in a few hyung, bye!” he waves his arm without looking back at Seokjin, who is too concentrated on decorating dessert to notice you guys leave.

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

“And this is where most of the soldiers practice combat, the little house to the right is where most of the weaponry is,” he points at the little white room that is protected by multiple security guards, a few servants walking in and out of the place. “That's basically all there is. There’s also the royal garden over there,” he points to the left where you can see a small path that leads to a golden gate that’s decorated by a few roses. “But we are not allowed to go in unless, ofcourse, we get invited by the royal family.” he shrugs his shoulders as you nod once again, trying to process all the information Jimin has given you the last 10 minutes you’ve been walking around the gardens.

The sudden sound of the rosy gate makes you both turn around again. Jimin's eyes grow bigger, and he immediately bows. He greets the people who are walking towards where you are standing, and it takes you too long to realise that the two tall handsome men are walking your way. He hits your elbow a few times trying to get you to react and bow too, but you are unable to move because of the hazel eyes that now look at you with a shocked expression, not believing the sight right in front of them.

“y/n?” Taehyung's voice comes out in a higher pitch, almost sounding like a squeal. He finds himself in an internal turmoil. He wants to throw himself at you and hold you in his arms, but he is too scared to even move, thinking you are a product of his imagination and you could disappear as soon as he tries to approach you. Why were you here?

“You must be new in the castle,” The voice next to Taehyung causes you to snap your head towards the other man, a very handsome and tall man that is smiling brightly at you. “I’m-...”

“Your majesty, please forgive her. She must be in disbelief to be in your presence.” Jimin blurs out rapidly, making the handsome man laugh as Jimin bows repeatedly, clearly scared that your ignorance could cost you both your lives.

“It’s okay Jimin, you don’t have to apologise for her.” He turns to you again as he smiles and bows to you. Both Taehyung and Jimin watch the scene unfold before then, not believing their eyes. Jimin shakes his head, unable to understand the situation, why is the prince bowing to you? “I’m Min Yoongi, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss y/n.”

You recognise the name, and you curse at yourself, your first day here and you already fucked up, great job y/n.

“Your majesty!" you exclaim, your voice coming out little louder than expected. "I apologise for my rudeness, it won’t happen again.” You bow, cursing at yourself in your head once again. You can’t bow forever, can you? You sigh as you find the courage to stand straight to face him, you feel your face heating up, your cheeks now tinted red from the embarrassment. “It’s such an honour to meet you.” your voice comes out in a whisper.

Yoongi laughs once again. She’s cute, he thinks. “It’s an honour to meet you too y/n,” he repeats. “And call me Yoongi, please. Let’s be comfortable around each other from now on.” He winks at you as you feel your body heat rise once again. Is the prince flirting with you? Right in front of everyone? Jimin feels like he is about to faint. Has he missed some important information about you? Why did Taehyung know your name? and why is Yoongi being so casual with you?

“Thank you, your ma-... I mean, Yoongi.” you reply shyly with another bow.

While you and Yoongi were exchanging words, Jimin could decipher there was something wrong with Taehyung, his eyes watering from the second he saw you. Jimin doesn't understand what was going on, but it doesn't take a genius see Taehyung was trying really hard not to cry and had a million questions for you. He could figure out that maybe you guys knew each other, and by the way Tae was staring at you, he concluded you guys had unfinished business, and it was best to leave you guys alone to talk.

“Is everything alright Tae?” Yoongi asks, noticing his friend tense up at his words, still in disbelief that you were right in front of him. Overwhelmed by emotion, Taehyung shifts in his place uncomfortably letting out a loud sigh.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” he says quietly. The air starting to tense up, a very awkward silence washing over the four of you. Jimin clears his throat causing everyone to turn to him, he might as well save you from your misery.

“Your majesty," Jimin starts, "I was showing y/n the gardens since she is new here. We were just about to go back to the kitchen to serve the royal lunch, but I just remembered she hasn’t been able to see the lake.” He clears his throat again, looking nervous. “Maybe Taehyung could show her the area? I’d be honoured to escort you to the diner so we can begin to serve lunch for you, Your majesty.” Jimin ends his sentence with doubt, scared of what the prince could reply.

Yoongi notices the stares you and Taehyung exchange, understanding Jimin’s intentions right away. “Sure, Jimin... that sounds like a plan.” Yoongi smiles faintly at you. “I hope to see you around often, Miss y/n.” Yoongi reaches for your hand, kissing it before he turns towards the gates, inviting Jimin to walk with him towards the castle, leaving you and Taehyung alone.

As soon as the two guys were out of sight, you felt Taehyung's strong arms embracing your figure, squeezing you so tightly it was hard for you to breathe. He lets go of the hug, and holds you by your shoulders to be able to face you, his eyes showing a worried expression.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you get my letter? I told you I was coming home to visit in a few weeks!” Taehyung whispers, holding your face between his shaking hands, meeting your gaze with teary eyes.

“The royal kitchen needed some extra hands, and they offered me the position.” you whisper back. He leans in, leaving a short but sweet kiss on your lips. You smile at him as he moves back. His face scans yours for a second, trying to understand the words that just came out of your mouth.

"Wait, so you work here now?" He asks as he reciprocates your smile. you try to nod, his hands making it hard to move your head, making you both giggle.

“Yeah, you don’t have to send me letters anymore, I’m here now.” He crashes his lips onto yours again, this time welcoming your kiss with passion and excitement.

Taehyung sighs between kisses. He imagined something bad had happened back home, and that your visit was intended so you could deliver the bad news. Thankfully, he was wrong. You had applied for a job in the castle to be able to be closer to him, and to make some money to support your mother back home.

“Okay,” he nods before kissing you again, “No more letters.” He promises against your lips as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He interlocks your hands together as he guides you towards the lake, stealing kisses along the way until you arrived at the beautiful lake that’s hidden behind the castle’s maze. You talk about everything and anything, too intoxicated in each other’s presence. Taehyung feels he is on cloud nine, still trying to process the fact that you are now working in the castle right next him.

But good things never last long and unfortunately, his promise was a little too good to be true.

#bts fanfic #bts ff #bts ffs #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #historical fanfiction #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung x y/n #kim taehyung fanfic

91 notes · View notes

seaofghouls · 3 years

Text

DSMP FALLS! <1>

Ah! Summer break! A time for leisure, recreation, and taking her easy.

..Unless you're me.

A pair of triplets crash through a billboard with a go-kart. "AAAAAHHH!" Being followed by a monster of unimaginable horror. "It's getting closer!" One of the triplets cried. My name is Y/N. The boy to the right of me about to puke is my triplet brother, Tubbo, while the boy to my left screaming profanities is my other triplet brother, Tommy. You may be wondering what we're doing in this situation. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. "Agh!" Y/N screamed. "This monster is such a bitch!" Tommy cried. "Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. Rest assured, there's a perfectly logical explanation!

... Let's rewind. It all began when our parents decided we could use some fresh air. They shipped us up to Gravity Falls, Oregon, to stay with our great uncle in the woods. "This attic is amazing! Just look at all of my splinters!" Tubbo cried. "..And there's a fucking goat on my bed." Tommy sighed.

Tubbo walked up to the goat.

"Hey, new friend! Yes, you can keep chewing on my shirt!" Tubbo giggled. Y/N giggled as well. Tubbo and Tommy seemed to look on the bright side of things. I, however, was having a bit of a harder time getting used to our new surroundings. "Boo!" "Aagh!" Y/N jumped up from their spot from under a tree. An old man took off a mask and started laughing. And then there was our great uncle Schlatt. That guy. Our uncle had transformed his house into a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack. The real mystery is why anyone came. And guess who had to work there? Y/N sighed, sweeping the floor. Tubbo reached out to touch something in this gift shop before Schlatt slapped his hand away.

"No touching the merchandise!" He said. Tommy snickered and touched it anyway out of spite. It seemed like it was going to be the same routine all summer, until one fateful day.

"Alright, look alive folks! I need someone to go hang up these signs in the spooky part of the forest." Schlatt said. "Not it!" The triplets said at the same time. "Also not it." Ranboo said. "Nobody asked you, Ranboo." Schlatt said. "I know and I'm comfortable with that." Ranboo smiled. "Niki! I need you to put up these signs!" Schaltt said. "I would.. but I can't.. reach." She trailed off. "I'd fire all of you if I could." Schlatt sighed. "Okay, let's make it eeny, meeny, miny, you." Schlatt pointed at Y/N. "Yes!" Tommy and Tubbo exclaimed. "Awe what? Gruncle Schlatt, whenever I'm in those woods I feel like I'm being watched." Y/N said. "Oh, this again." He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, something weird is going on! Just today, my mosquito bites spelled out beware!" Y/N said, showing schlatt their arm. "...That says bewarb." Schlatt said. "Look kid, the whole monsters in the forest thing is just a local legend. Drummed up by guys like me to sell merch to guys like that." Schlatt pointed at a guy distracted by a schlatt bobblehead. "So quit being so paranoid!" Schlatt said. ... "Ugh, Gruncle Schlatt. nobody ever believes what I say." Y/N groaned as they hammer signs in the forest. They hammer another tree but stop when they hear metal. "huh?" They hit it the hammer again in curiosity. Finding a secret door with a machine inside, they mess with the buttons for a bit before something opens up behind them. "What the.." Reaching into the hole, they find a dusty old journal. They brush it off and start reading. "Woah.. trust no one, huh?" Y/N mumbled. "Hello!" Tubbo exclaimed. "What are you reading, some nerd book?" Tommy asked. "Uh-uh, it's nothing!" Y/N exclaimed. "Uh-UH IT'S NOTHING!" Tommy mocked. "What, are you seriously not gonna show us?" Tubbo asked. "..Let's go somewhere more private," Y/N said. ... "It's amazing! Gruncle Schlatt said I was being paranoid, but apparently, Gravity Falls has this secret dark side!" Y/N exclaimed. "WOAH!" Tubbo exclaimed. "SHUT UP!" Tommy pushed Y/N with a grin on his face. "Get this! After a certain point, the pages just stop! Like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared!" Y/N exclaimed.

The doorbell rang. "Who's that?" Y/N asked. "Welp, time to spill the beans! This guy's got a platonic date!" Tubbo grinned. "Platonic??" "Date??" Schlatt walked in as Tubbo came back in with someone. "Hey family, I want you to meet my new platonic boyfriend!" Tubbo exclaimed. "Sup." He said. "Hey." Y/N and Tommy said. "How's it hanging?" Schlatt finger gunned. "We met at the cemetery. He's really deep." Tubbo smiled. "..What's your name?" Y/N asked. "Normal.. Man!" He groaned out. "He means Norman." Tubbo giggled. "..Are you bleeding, Norman?" Tommy asked. "..It's jam." Norman said. Y/N stared at him in suspicion before Tubbo dragged Norman away. There was something with Norman that wasn't right. I decided to consult the journal. Y/N read the journal out loud. "Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes.. these creatures are often mistaken for.. TEENAGERS?!" Y/N exclaimed. "Beware Gravity Falls' nefarious ZOMBIES?!" Y/N gasped. "Zombies??" Tommy gasped. He was sitting there with Y/N. "Tommy, outside!" Y/N exclaimed. "Oh, no! Tubbo!" They both yelled. Norman lurched towards Tubbo, grabbed him, and put a flower crown on him. "Daisies?? You scallywag!" Tubbo gushed. "Is our brother dating a zombie or are we just going nuts?" Tommy muttered. "It's a dillema to be sure." Charlie said. "Agh!" Y/N jumped. "I couldn't help but overhear you guys talking to yourselves in this empty room." Charlie explained. "Charlie, you've seen Tubbo's platonic date, right? He's got to be zombie!" Y/N said. "Hm.. how many brains did you see the guy eat?" Charlie asked. "Zero.." Y/N sighed. "Look, dudes, I believe you. I'm seeing strange thing in this town all the time. Like, the mailman, I'm pretty sure that guy's a werewolf. But! You gotta have proof, or else people will think you're a major cukoo clock." Charlie said. "As always, big C, you're right." Tommy said. "My wisdom is both a wisdom and a curse." Charlie said. "Charlie! The toilets are clogged again!" Schlatt called out. "I am needed elsewhere." Charlie took off. Y/N and Tommy decided to work together to get some evidence. Throughout their studies, Norman certainly had strange behavior, but not enough to convict him of anything supernatural. "I'll talk to Tubbo, don't worry, sib!" Tommy said. "Alright." Y/N nodded. ... Tommy walked into the triplets' shared room. "Tubbo, we've got to talk about Norman." Tommy said. "I know! Isn't he great?? Look at this smooch mark he gave me!" Tubbo turned his head to show a large red area on his face. "Egh!" Tommy cried. "Hah! Gullible. It was just an accident with the leafblower. That was fun." Tubbo laughed. "No, listen, Tubbo! I'm trying to tell you that Norman is not what he seems! The journal that Y/N found!" Tommy insisted. "You think he might be a vampire?? That would be awesome!" Tubbo gasped. "Guess again, big T! A zombie he is!" Tommy said. "A zombie?? Not funny, Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. "I'm not joking! Y/N can agree, it all adds up! The bleeding, the limp, he never blinks! Have you noticed that??" Tommy exclaimed. "Maybe he's blinking when you're blinking." Tubbo suggested. "HE'S GOING TO EAT YOUR BRAINS, BIG T!" Tommy shook Tubbo. "Tommy! Listen to me. Norman and I are going on a date tonight and I'm going to be adorable! He's going to be dreamy! And I'm not going to let you and Y/N ruin it with another one of your crazy conspirices!" Tubbo kicked Tommy out. "Ah man.. what am I gonna do??" Tommy slumped against the door. Someone sat down next to him. "How'd it go, bro-bro?" Y/N asked. "He's refusing to listen.. He kicked me out." Tommy sighed. Y/N frowned. "Not surprising. Hopefully he'll come to that realization in his own." ... The two out of three triplets were sitting on the couch, looking over the footage. "I guess we don't have any actual evidence, huh?" Y/N sighed. "Yeah.. I guess we can be kinda paranoid sometimes-" Tommy stopped. In the footage clip, Norman's hand fell off and he put it back on. "WAIT WHAT?!" Tommy and Y/N exclaimed. They leaped off

the

couch in a hurry. "WE WERE RIGHT! HOLY SHIT!" Tommy exclaimed. Racing outside, the two tried to find their uncle. "GRUNCLE SCHLATT! GRUNCLE SCHLATT!" Y/N called out. Schlatt wasn't paying attention.

"Wait! Niki has the cart!" Tommy suggested. "Good eye, Tommy!" Y/N grinned. "Niki! Niki! We need the cart to save our brother from a zombie!" They ran up to her. "Try not to hit any pedestrains." She winked, giving them the keys. "Alright, Tommy! Let's go save our sister!" Y/N grinned. They backed up before Charlie stopped them. "Dudes! This is for the zombies." He handed them a shovel. "Thanks." Y/N grinned, "This is in case you see a pinata." He handed them a bat. "..Thanks?" Tommy said. "Better safe than sorry!" He called out. Tommy and Y/N sped off to find their brother. They heard screams and drove to the direction of the sound. "LET'S GO!" Y/N exclaimed. "Get his arm there, Steve!" Tubbo was struggling against several gnomes. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" Tommy exclaimed. "Tommy! Y/N! Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes! And they're total assholes!" Tubbo cried.

"Gnomes..? We were way off." Tommy mumbled. Y/N flipped open the journal. "Damn.. no weaknesses." They sighed. "Hey! Hey! Let go of my brother!" Y/N demanded. "This is all one big misunderstanding. Your brothers not in any danger! He's just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our king for all of eternity!" The lead gnome explained. "Give him back right now, or else, prick!" Tommy demanded. "You think you can stop us, child? You have no idea what we're capable of!" The gnome went on a tangent before Tommy scooped him up with the shovel and tossed him to the side. Y/N used that chance to free Tubbo, dragging him back to the kart with Tommy. "GO GO GO!" Tubbo exclaimed. "I wouldn't worry about it. See their little fucking legs? Those pricks are tiny." Tommy smirked. Tommy stopped when they heard the noises of a creature. A giant gnome creature, to be exact. "Damn." Tubbo said. "MOVE! GO GO GO!" Y/N screeched. The giant creature chased them through the forest. Gnomes launched onto the kart. "Agh!" Tubbo exclaimed. "GET OFF MY FACE!" Y/N cried. "I got you, sib!" Tubbo punched the gnome, while also accidentally punching Y/N several times before the gnome let go, revealing new bruises on Y/N's face. "..Thanks bro.." They winced. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. They crashed into the back of the Mystery Shack. They were officially cornered. The triplets hugged each other in terror. "W-where's Gruncle Schlatt??" Y/N asked. "It's the end of the line, kids! Tubbo, marry us before we do something crazy!" The lead gnome ordered. "There's gotta be a fucking way out of this.." Tommy muttered. "I gotta do it." Tubbo decided. "What?!" The other two triplets exclaimed. "Tubbo, are you crazy?!" Y/N asked. "Trust me." Tubbo said. "..What??" Tommy gasped. "Trust me, just this once, guys." Tubbo said. The two hesitated and then nodded. "Alright, Jeff. I'll marry you." Tubbo stepped forward. "Hot dog!" The lead gnome climbed down to Tubbo. "You may now kiss the groom." Tubbo said after the lead gnome put a ring on his finger. "Well, I don't if I do!" The lead gnome grinned, puckering up. Tubbo took that chance to hit him with the leafblower that was left outside. "Agh!" The gnome screamed. "That's for lying to me! That's the breaking my heart! And that's for messing with my siblings!" Tubbo shot the gnome off into the forest and the rest of the gnomes scattered away. As the triplets walked back into the Mystery Shack, Tubbo stopped them. "Hey, Y/N, Tommy, I'm sorry. You two were really just trying to look out for me." Tubbo sighed. "Oh, don't be like that! You saved our asses back there!" Tommy smiled. "I guess I'm just sad that Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes." Tubbo sighed. "Hey, look on the bright side! Maybe the next one will be a vampire." Y/N giggled. "You're just saying that." Tubbo giggled, punching their shoulder. "..Awkward triplet hug?" Y/N suggested. "Awkward triplet hug." Tommy and Tubbo said together, the three of them in a hug. ... "Yeesh, you three get hit by a bus or something? Hahah!" Schlatt laughed. The triplets ignored him. "Hey, um,, I accidentally overstocked some items, why don't you three take something?" Schlatt said. "What's the catch?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "The catch is do it before I change my mind, now go!" Schlatt said. The triplets grinned at each other. Tubbo picked out a grappling hook, Tommy picked out a music disc, and Y/N picked out a a hat with a bat symbol on it. ... This journal told me that there was no one you could trust. But when you go up against an army of gnomes with side by side with two people, you realize they probably got their back. "Tubbo, can you get the light?" Y/N asked. "You got it, sib!" Tubbo shot the grappling hook at the light. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Tommy rolled his eyes. Tubbo and Y/N giggled. Our uncle told us there was nothing strange about this town, but who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked? -------

#dream smp #dsmp au #dsmp #gravity falls #gf #au #reader insert #x reader #dsmp gravity falls au #dream smp gravity falls au #agaga

72 notes · View notes

flannels-and-fannypacks · 3 years

Text

WTWT: The Sequel | Part 5/5 [Reggie Peters]

pairing: reggie peters x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k

warnings: angst, swearing

a/n: our last part to our sequel!!! from the bottom of mimi and my hearts we would like to thank you all for reading and commenting, reblogging, and sending memes. it honestly means the world to us, truly. we love you all! thank you again! -- drea :)

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Reggie drummed his fingers against his lap as he waited on the porch swing. You told him to wait outside while you got ready, but Reggie wasn’t too fond of the mosquitoes he had for company.

Finally, after about five bug bites later, you joined Reggie, hood up and covering your face.

Reggie turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You alright, Cookie?” he asked. He tried to pull down your hood, only for you to swat his hand away. “Okay, Cookie you’re scaring me now. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked.

“That doesn’t seem like nothing, you won’t even show your face-”

You abruptly pulled down your hoodie, showing your face to Reggie. There wasn’t anything wrong, necessarily, but you had a full face of makeup. Reggie couldn’t help but smile. From shoulders up, you looked like a bride. But from the bottom down, you were just his Cookie.

“Nana wanted to practice makeup again,” you whined. “Something about “being the perfect bride,” Flicka what does that even mean?”

Reggie only stared back at you, completely enamored with your smile and sparkling eyes. It was as though he were in a daze, lost in your eyes. He wanted to marry you right there.

“Flicka?” you repeated. “Did you hear me? Do you have something to do with Nana’s oddball behavior lately?”

Reggie’s face turned red. Earl told Tamara his plan last week, and the old woman hadn’t been subtle in the slightest. She had even gone as far as to show you pictures of homes for sale near the area, claiming that the guest rooms “could be a nursery.” It took everything in Reggie to not stuff her face with scones.

“Honestly no idea,” Reggie lord. “Come on, we’ll stop and get some make up wipes on the way,”

“You’re a saint,” you grinned, pressing a kiss to Reggie’s lips and giggled when you saw the cherry red mark it left. “I think Nana might need some better lipstick,”

He looked at you confused and you took your hand and wiped away his bottom lip with your thumb.

“There that’s better. It smudged a bit,”

Reggie was completely googly eyed looking at you. That smile got him every single time.

He took your face in his hands and pressed a smacking kiss to your forehead.

“I love you Cookie, come on, let’s head out,”

Reggie led you to the car he had rented prior, opening the passenger door for you. You sent him a pointed look.

“Just because I look like a fairy tale book vomited over my face doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a princess,” you deadpanned. “I’m more than capable of opening the door by myself.”

Reggie chuckled, leaning against the door. “You’re right,” he agreed. “You should be treated like a queen, because you’re my queen.”

Rolling your eyes, you entered the car. “What’s with all the sappy comments, Flicka?” you asked as he made his way to his side of the car. “Not that I don’t like them, but I’m getting a whole bunch of comments for a person that looks like a living Barbie doll.”

Reggie only pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m just in a sappy mood today,” he shrugged his shoulders. “My apologies, your majesty. And besides, you don’t even look that bad. I think Tamara did a good job on your makeup.”

“You’re only saying that to stay on her good side.”

“You know me so well,” he teased. “Now, come on, let’s get going.”

The ride wasn’t too long, and to be perfectly honest you weren’t even sure where he was taking you. You didn’t even know if he knew the area well enough to drive anywhere without getting lost.

“Are you sure you’re going the right way,”

“Positive, you can’t miss it,” Reggie grinned when he hit the highway. He was grateful when you nodded, not asking any further questions.

Wordlessly, you turned on the radio. As you hummed along to the music, it wasn’t until you started singing when Reggie registered the lyrics and recognized the song.

“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere…”

Reggie turned his head to see you singing softly as you watched cars drive by. Reggie couldn’t help but smile as he drove towards an exit. As the song continued, he found his hand drop down to your knee, squeezing it tightly. He hadn’t heard your singing voice in so long, he forgot what it sounded like. But as soon as you started singing, it all felt familiar to him again. Every word, every dance in your bedroom at night, every memory.

Your voice was beautiful in his opinion. Angelic, even. Reggie recalled sleepovers in your room when you’d sing along to whatever was playing on the radio. Even when Reggie was too shy to sing or dance, you always pulled him out of his shell. Funny how now, things were the opposite.

“You know,” Reggie mused. “I’m still holding you to it.”

You stopped singing, turning your head in confusion. “Hold me to what?”

Reggie smiled knowingly. “Hold you to singing at one of our gigs,” he explained.

“When did I say I’d do that?” you asked curiously. “Was I drunk? If I was drunk it doesn’t count,” you said adamantly.

“Nope you were 100% sober,” Reggie chuckled. “Come on Cookie, you’ve got such a gorgeous voice, and it would be so much fun,”

“Mm, I don’t think so,” you said stubbornly. “If anything, I’m average. You’re the musician in this relationship.”

Reggie glanced over at you once the car rolled to a stop at the stoplight. “I think you’re amazing at everything you do, Cookie.”

Rolling your eyes, you took his hand off your knee and kissed it gently. “I think there’s a little bias in that statement, Flicka. You’re just required to say that because you sleep next to me each night.”

Reggie laughed. “While that may be true,” he admitted truthfully. “And I definitely don’t want to be murdered in my sleep by the girl I love most in my life...” You snorted, shoving Reggie to hide the blush on your cheeks. “I do think you have a whole bunch of talent, no bias.”

“Definitely biased,” you shot back in a sing-songy tone.

“You’re a dork, Cookie,” he laughed, turning down a street.

Rolling your eyes, you looked out the window. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“If I tell you, it would ruin the surprise,” he told you. “We’re almost there anyway, so just wait.”

Reggie kept driving until he hit another exit, driving through the valley all the way until you saw the brightly coloured lights accompanied by jolly music.

“No way!” you grinned. “How did you know this was happening?!”

“Little birdie told me,” he grinned.

“My dad?”

“Yeah your dad,” he nodded.

As soon as Reggie parked on the side of the road, you grabbed his face, peppering kisses all over him. “Have I told you how much I loved you, Flicka?” you asked giddily.

“Yes, but I don’t get tired of hearing it,” he grinned, “Come on let’s go,”

You nodded and opened the car doors, leaving the vehicle and heading excitedly to the fair.

“We should go on all the rides first,” you quickly said, “And then stop by all the food stands,”

“Oh my God Cookie, you’re going to die of a heart attack before we get home,” Reggie told you. “I kind of don’t want to be murdered by your grandparents.”

“Only acceptable way to go, doing what I love,”

“Eating fried food?”

“Yep, and dippin dots,” You nodded, swinging your intertwined hands.

Reggie shook his head, a small smile on his face. “What am I going to do with you,” he murmured.

“Join me in my fried food bliss?” you suggested.

“You know, what maybe I will, can’t kill me if I’m already dead,” he joked and held out his hand for you to take. “Where too first Cookie, you’re the boss,”

“Maybe the ferris wheel, make it like old times?”

Without answering, Reggie quickly pulled you to the line, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Can we stay like this forever?” you asked.

“I really hope so,” Reggie smiled.

You got lucky and the line moved up quickly and you slid into the seats, placing the safety bar in front of you while the ride whirred up to a start.

“Still afraid of heights, Flicka?” you teased as the ferris wheel began to turn.

Reggie’s face was slightly pale as his hand gripped yours tightly. “Never,” he answered, his voice slightly shaking.

“It’s okay, Flicka,” you laughed. “I’ve got you, knight in shining armor right?”

He nervously laughed, making the mistake of looking down and curled in tighter to you.

Once you reached the top of the ferris wheel, you nudged Reggie’s side. “We’re at the top,” you whispered. “You can open your eyes now.”

Hesitantly, Reggie opened his eyes. From that height, he could see the entire city. “Wow, Penticton is tiny!”

“I know,” you chuckled. “But it’s kind of nice. Easier to know someone in a town than a big city,”

“Here I have a question for you,” he said, turning to look at you and trying to ignore the great height. “If you could live anywhere, in North America,” he said, knowing your answer would be Vienna if he involved the whole world. “Where would it be?”

“I think LA,” you nodded. “Everyone’s there. Well aside from mom and dad, but as much as I love it here and will never get tired of this view, I think LA would be my place to settle,”

Reggie smiled, squeezing your hand affectionately. “I’m glad.” You raised an eyebrow, making Reggie cough awkwardly. “I mean, I’m glad that you think that because I think that, too.”

“What, you don’t want to go back to Wyoming?”

“Not if you’re gonna be in LA, maybe as a retirement plan,” he admitted. “I’ll always want those 30 horses,”

“Maybe we could have a farm one day,” you suggested. “We could name it Flicka’s ranch,”

Reggie chuckled. “Flicka and Cookie’s ranch,” he corrected. “We’re running it together.”

You raised his hand to your lips, kissing it softly. “Of course, Flicka.”

You two stayed in silence, taking in the scenery until your gondola reached the ground. Thanking the ferris wheel operator, you quickly pulled Reggie to the game stands.

“Play a game, sonny,” an older man called over to Reggie. “Want to win a bear for your girlfriend?”

Reggie’s face turned red. “Oh, um we’re not-”

You pressed a kiss to Reggie’s cheek. “I think we’re to a point where we can finally put a label on us,” you winked.

Reggie smiled down at you. “Well, girlfriend, he began teasingly. “Would you like a bear?”

You hummed in thought. “If you get me a horse plushy, I’ll be yours forever,” you replied.

Nodding, Reggie paid for the bean bags, preparing to throw them at the cans. His heart was beating out of his chest. It was no big deal, only his relationship on the line, right?

“Flicka, you look so pale, why are you nervous,” you chuckled, taking his hand in yours and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’ll do fine, I love you,”

That was all the assurance Reggie needed to chuck the bean bag, straight into the pile of cans, sending them tumbling down.

He beamed and so did you while the game operator took the horse plushie from the rack and handed it to you.

“For the lovely lady,”

“Thank you,” you grinned. “See Reggie you did-,”

Dangling around the horse’s neck was a necklace, your horseshoe necklace that you had given to Reggie before leaving to Canada. And linked on the silver chain was a small ring, a perfect fit for your finger, you could tell just by looking. It took you a moment, but your eyes finally managed to break their gaze and went to look at Reggie, only to be met with an empty space. You frowned and looked down to see Reggie, kneeling on one knee in front of you.

“Well, um, you willing to keep that promise, Cookie?” he asked.

Your hand flew to your mouth and you took a step back, tears flooding your eyes.

“Shut up,” you whispered. “Flicka, shut up.”

Reggie chuckled at your reaction. “Not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” he joked, making your face turn red. Reggie wiped his hands on his jeans. “Cookie, I-I don’t want to wait for the universe to bring us together, I’m tired of pushing you away. I want to do anything and everything in my power to make you the happiest person alive, because that’s all that matters. I’d give up the entire world for you and wherever you need to be I’m going to be right there with you, I don’t care if it’s Penticton, LA, or some random town in the middle of nowhere Wyoming, as long as I’m with you. Cookie, I-I-I-,” Reggie’s voice cracked and you shook your head, telling him he didn’t need to go on, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried once you pulled away. “We’ve had one hell of a life, Flicka. We’ve had too much sadness to last a lifetime. I’m ready Flicka, no more waiting, no more doubt.”

Reggie stood up, pulling you into yet another kiss while spinning you around. He beamed at you, tears streaming down his cheeks as his green eyes sparkled with complete adoration.

“Oh my God we have to tell my parents! Your parents! My grandparents! The guys and Rose!”

“Woah, woah, calm down Cookie,” Reggie laughed. “And I totally agree we should tell the family, but I think you should probably put the ring on, first.”

“Oh my God, yes!” you exclaimed, taking the ring off your necklace and placing it on your ring finger.

“Also, I don’t know about you, but I think after all the lies from the gang, maybe we should have some fun with them too,”

“Flicka I like the way you think,” you grinned mischievously. “See, that’s why I said yes.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow. “Not because you love me?” he asked, feigning hurt.

“Mm, that too, I guess,” you teased. “Okay, now what do you say we just grab a bunch of food and get out of here?”

“And spend the rest of the night with my future wife? Sign me up,” he grinned.

Damn you liked the sound of that.

The ride back home was a blur. You were incredibly giddy, arms full of candy and fried food. You couldn’t stop looking down at your ring, sparkling in the moonlight.

You were engaged. To your childhood best friend, the boy you loved most in your life. For once, everything felt right, and all your worries slowly melted away. All because of Reggie, and you were grateful for that.

When you opened the door to your grandparents home you saw everyone sitting anxiously in the living room, probably already aware of the situation.

“Hey guys,” you greeted awkwardly, trying to slowly ease the topic in.

Tamara stood up abruptly. “Oh, none of that nonsense,” she cut in. “Show me the ring!”

Without letting you take a moment to set your things down, your grandmother grabbed your hand and examined the ring, readjusting her glasses to look closely.

“Nana!” you exclaimed. “Careful!”

“So it’s official?” Eloise asked curiously, standing up from her seat.

“Pretty darn official,” Reggie grinned. “We’re getting married!”

Eloise’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to hide a few tears of joy. Mateo and Earl both came to give Reggie a pat on the back, now he was one of them and they wished him good luck on that. Being married to a Brandanowitz was no walk in the park.

“I made a special batch of scones just for you guys,” Tamara smiled. “I’ll go grab them, fresh out of the oven,”

“Reggie should you call your parents?” Mateo suggested. “Tell them the good news?”

“Actually yeah,” Reggie nodded. “(N/N) do you want to come? I’m sure they would love to talk to you,”

“Sure, it’s been a while,” you nodded, “Guess Darcy was right after all,”

You gave your mother your things before taking Reggie’s hand and guiding him to downstairs to where the telephone was. Reggie quickly took the phone off the hook, dialing his parents’ number.

“Hello?” a voice finally picked up.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” Reggie greeted with a soft smile. “I, um, wanted to tell you-”

You took the phone from him. “We’re engaged!” you exclaimed into the speaker.

You could hear Diana squeal excitedly. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you!” she told you. “Tell me all the details, I want to hear it all.”

Setting yourself down on the sofa, you giddily spilled all the details of your night to Reggie’s mother. The grin on your face made Reggie’s heart do a flip. You were absolutely perfect to Reggie. You’d fit in perfectly in his family, he knew it.

As you continued to talk to Reggie’s parents, your hand found Reggie’s on his lap. Squeezing it tightly, you flashed him a grin.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him before continuing your conversation.

Reggie kissed the corner of your mouth. “I love you, too.”

“Well (Y/N), what did I tell you, it was a when after all,”

“Yeah you were right Darcy,” you chuckled. “And I couldn’t be happier that you were, really. I’m so excited to be a part of your family,”

“And we’re happy to have you in it,” Diana assured you. “You’ve always been like a daughter to us (N/N), and you’ve always been there for Reggie so we couldn’t imagine a better pairing,”

“Thank you,” you said into the phone. “I’m glad to have Reggie in my life. You raised an incredible son, Diana, Dacy.”

Reggie playfully rolled his eyes, leaning his head on your shoulder. “She’s only saying that because she’s on the engagement high,” he joked.

“That’s not even a real term, Flicka,” you shot back. “It’s true. You’re an amazing son and boyfriend. Or should I say fiance?”

“Neither,” he murmured into your neck. “Husband sounds much better, Cookie.”

You flicked his forehead. “We have months of planning first, Flicka. Then I can call you husband all you want, okay?”

Reggie pecked your lips, smiling up at you. “Perfect.”

You heard Diana and Darcy laugh on the other end. “Well, we won’t keep you love birds for too long,” Darcy said. “Have a good night you two.”

“Goodnight,” you chirped back before putting the phone back on the ringer. You let out a deep sigh, falling onto Reggie’s chest as you pushed him down on the couch. “We’re engaged,” you sang into his shirt.

Reggie laughed, placing his hands on your waist. “We are,” he said back.

“You know what that means, right?” Reggie let out a hum in response as you grinned. “I think that means we should get an upgrade on our nicknames.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like Cookie?”

“Oh no I love it,” you reassured him. “But I think that once we get married, a little change is in order.”

Reggie drummed his fingers against your waist, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. “Okay then, Cookie, shoot.”

You hummed in thought, biting your lip as you thought. “Well I didn’t think I’d get this far,” you confessed truthfully. “But, I think those cute couple names are nice. Darling, love, Mrs. Peters.”

Reggie sent you a small smile, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Okay, darling,” he kissed you once more. “Love,” and then another kiss. “Mrs. Peters.”

Before you could even process it, you found yourself pushed against the couch as Reggie pressed dozens of kisses all over your face. “Flicka, stop!” you shrieked. “It tickles!”

“Never,” he pressed a kiss to your nose and you squealed.

“Reggie seriously, if you stop I’ll move back to LA with you,”

“W-Wait what?”

That got his attention.

“Well I’d do it even if you didn’t stop. I-I want to go back and if we’re getting married I think there’s no better reason,”

Reggie sat up, you following him. “Really?” he asked. “I thought you wanted to stay here? I-if the reason why you want to go to LA is for me, don’t. I’m willing to stay here and settle down, get a job, buy a cookie factory-”

“A what?” you questioned. You rolled your eyes at Reggie’s flustered expression and decided to continue. “Reggie, I’m not going to force you to stay here and forget everything you love back in California, that’s asking too much of you. Besides,” you cupped the side of his face affectionately. “I want to go home, too. I miss them a lot.”

“We can move into my place, and then look for something a bit bigger, the band’s coming into some money soon,” Reggie explained.

“A house by the beach?” you suggested. “With a nice garden and not that crappy balcony we had in our other apartment?”

Reggie scrunched up his nose. “I happened to like that balcony, Cookie.”

“Fine, a nice house by the beach with a garden and a crappy balcony,” you said sarcastically.

“With many bedrooms,” Reggie added. “For our kids, some day.”

“Four,” you grinned. “So the boys don’t have to argue about who’s going to be the godfather.”

Reggie kissed the top of your head. “And a guest room, for when our parents visit.”

“And a music room?” you asked.

“Of course, Cookie,” he reassured you.

You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned forward, your forehead resting against his. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Reggie weaved your hands together. “Me too, Cookie,” he whispered. “Me too.”

—

“(Y/N) come on please just try it on,” Rose begged.

“I move back and I’m barely here a week and you’re already forcing me into your potential wedding dress,” you rolled your eyes. “Why am I not surprised,”

Rose shoved the dress into your hands, pushing you towards the dressing room. “Go on, the boys will be the judge, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” the guys muttered, far more focused on the free alcohol.

“Hey!” Rose snapped her fingers, making the boys jump in surprise. “This is my special day, so if I turn out looking like the cake instead of a bride, I will end all of you.”

Bobby whined as he leaned against Luke’s shoulder. “I didn’t expect this plan to go for so long,” he muttered, making Luke shush him.

“I’m ready!” you called from the dressing room.

Rose squealed excitedly. “Well, come out!” she yelled back. “We’re all dying to see!”

Sighing dramatically, you pushed the door open, walking towards the center of the room.

“Cariña,” Rose gushed. “You look like a princess straight from the fairy tales!” She glanced over at the boys, all of them murmuring in response. “Guys!”

“You look amazing, (N/N),” Alex told you kindly. Ray wordlessly agreed.

“Like a royal bride!” Luke added.

Everyone turned to Bobby, who was drinking the last of the champagne. “Hot,” was all he said as he downed the drink. Alex, Luke, Reggie, and Ray all slapped him upside the head for that.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Why don’t we see what Reggie thinks?” she suggested, looking over at the black haired bassist, who was staring down at the ground.

“Yeah Flicka, what do you think?” you asked, twirling in the floor length gown.

“Eh I don’t think it’s a good idea, it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding,” he shook his head.

“THE WHAT?!” everyone exclaimed.

Luke’s drink flew out of his hand, Ray had to catch Rose when she almost fainted and Bobby and Alex’s jaw’s were practically on the floor.

“Can you repeat that?” Alex asked, eyes widened in shock. “I think I must be hearing things.”

Luke nodded repeatedly. “Yeah, because I could have sworn Reggie said wedding,” he agreed.

“Then I must be having hearing problems, too,” Bobby muttered. “Or maybe it’s the alcohol. What did they put in this?”

“Definitely the green fairy drink,” Alex said, pushing his champagne flute away.

“Okay, first off why would they serve absinthe at a bridal shop?” you frowned, walking back to the dressing room to take off the wedding dress.

“Maybe so they spend a shit ton of money on these dresses,” Reggie nodded and the gang just stared at them.

“You’re seriously NOT gonna comment on that?!” Ray asked. “Ay dios mio, pasa el champán-” He leaned against the wall, fanning himself before reaching for his Rosary.

“Come on you guys give us something!” Luke exclaimed. “Bunny I’m your mom,”

“Okay but first, what’s with this fake wedding?” Reggie commented. “I knew something was off from the beginning but you guys really dragged this out,”

¨Because we were trying to get you all buttered up and drowned in marriage fever!” Rose whined. “But you guys were engaged all along?”

You finally emerged from the dressing room, wedding dress hanging on the door. “Not all along,” you answered, setting yourself down on the couch next to Reggie, swinging your legs over his. “Just in Canada.”

“And you didn’t think to give your friends a call?” Luke asked, pouting. “We’re the ones that have been rooting for you all this time.”

Reggie shot him a look. “To be frank, you guys were the ones that made this stupid plan.”

“We just decided to play along to see how high your patience levels were,” you added, wrapping your arms around Reggie’s neck.

“I told you it was stupid,” Bobby sang in a low voice.

“Shut up Bobby, you came up with the wedding dress bit,” Alex shot back.

“It was a genius plan that came with free champagne!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the flute in his hand.

“Bobby you really need to go to some AA meetings,” Ray sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You all,” he pointed to everyone. “Can suck my-,”

“Okay! So you’re all invited to the wedding!” you interjected before turning to Rose. “Be my maid of honor?”

Rose squealed. “Yes!” she answered giddily. “We can just take all your notes from when we were planning my fake wedding. It’s going to be the wedding of the century, I’m telling you.”

“The wedding of the century on a college student budget,” Reggie mused. “I’d love to see that.”

“If you think we’re doing this on just our budget you’re sorely mistaken,” Luke said and you raised a brow.

“Yeah how are my unemployed parents going to pay for this?” you asked.

“Reggie, your mom is a freaking lawyer,” Luke exclaimed. “I’m sure you could ask for some cash, and (N/N) your grandparents are decently well off and my parents can pitch in cause they’re not gonna get a wedding out of me anytime soon,”

“Guys we don’t want a big thing,” Reggie explained. “Just something by the lake maybe? At night and just close friends and family.”

Rose frowned, crossing her arms on her chest. “You’ll still wear the wedding dress, right?” she asked you. She rolled her eyes at your uncertain face. “Come on, (N/N) this is your moment to shine. I don’t want you to look back and regret not wearing one!”

“Maybe not that dress,” you said, cringing at the layers of tulle. “We’ll figure something out,”

“And you bet I’m helping you,” Rose told you firmly.

“Of course,” you nodded. “Now let’s just hope life doesn’t throw us another shit show,”

—

“Oh my God, I’m totally freaking out! Does anyone have a paper bag? I need a paper bag! Guys!”

“Rose calm down!” you exclaimed. “It’s my freaking wedding day and you’re the one having a melt down,”

“But what if-,”

“Don’t you even dare Rose. Don’t. You. Dare.” you warned and she quieted while you straightened out your sleek white dress.

“Kind of ironic, the person who was pushing you together this entire time being the one breaking down,” Luke chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

“Shut up Patterson, you were crying in the bathroom for like 45 minutes. I'm not the only person having a crisis,” Rose shot back, finally finding a paper bag in the back of her car.

Luke’s face turned red as he moved closer to you, only for you to jerk back. “Mm, no you don’t,” you told him, keeping a distance away. “I know how you get when you’re emotional and tispy. Stay away from the dress, mom. We don’t need any abstract painting on my shoulder.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “You wound me, Lady Bunny.”

“It’s going to be Lady Peters any minute now,” Alex announced, approaching you. He looked down at you, grinning. “You look amazing, (N/N). Reggie’s going to love it.”

You smiled, going on the tippy toes to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Thanks, Alex,” you said. “I’m glad somebody has their head on straight.”

“Yeah you might not wanna go see Bobby then,” he said, sucking air through his teeth.

You winced. “Please tell me he hasn’t found the wine yet.”

“He brought his own.”

Rolling your eyes, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Dammit,” you groaned. “Just make sure he makes it to the vows, okay?”

Alex saluted to you. “Of course, (N/N).”

“I’m really starting to second guess singing at the reception, that’s got me more nervous than getting married,”

Luke shook his head at you, setting his glass down. “Really?” he asked. “You’re not scared the groom might up and run at the last minute?”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. “I know Reggie, he wouldn’t-”

“Guys we can’t find Reggie,” Ray came running in. Rose let out a cry, starting to hyperventilate into the paper bag.

“I swear to fucking God this better be a joke!” you yelled, pushing everyone out of the way. “Reginald Peters, when I find you I’m going to murder you!”

Alex ran, close behind you. “(N/N), I love you and wholeheartedly agree, but I think in order to have a wedding you should have a groom-”

“Get out of here with your technicalities!” you snapped. “Just because you’re accurate doesn’t mean you’re interesting!” Alex let out a squeak in response, but remained silent. You pulled your hair in frustration. “I’m supposed to get married! And my future husband isn’t even here! I think I have the right to freak out!”

“I’m here! I’m here!” you heard a quick call and you looked up seeing Reggie running in your direction, dressed in his suit and tie, waving something in the air.

“Reggie the dress!” Rose screeched from behind you. Instantly, Reggie covered his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the box.

“Reginald Darcy Peters!” you yelled, marching up to him and promptly slapping him across the face. “Don’t you dare pull that kind of shit with me,” you warned. “Thin fucking ice Flicka,”

“I’m gonna pretend that didn’t just happen,” Reggie groaned, rubbing where you had slapped him. “I needed to get the ring from the shop. You want to get married without a ring?”

“But Alex has the rings,” you said with a frown. “Don’t you?”

Alex’s eyes widened before patting down his suit pocket, sighing in relief. “Yes, it’s here,” he informed you.

“I know,” Reggie sighed. “But this ring is different. Just trust me, okay?”

You scowled, crossing your arms on your chest. “As long as you don’t run off again. Pull that shit one more time and I’m calling Nana to bring the scones.”

Reggie paled. “Of course, darling,” he reassured you cheekily.

“That’s Mrs. Peters to you,” you flicked him.

“Okay, let’s get this guy out of here,” Alex said, dragging Reggie away.

You laughed breathlessly as Reggie almost tripped over a rock, eyes still closed.

“Of all the boys in this band you had to choose that one?” Rose asked, walking behind you. The paper bag was still in her hands.

You simply shrugged your shoulders. “He’s the one for me,” you laughed softly. “My Flicka.”

“Your stupid Flicka,” Rose shook her head. “Now come on, you. You have an aisle to walk and people to wow.”

You were pushed towards the area in front of the lake, where the ceremony was to be held. At that point, everyone had walked down the aisle. Alex’s little sisters as the flower girls, Bobby, Luke, and Alex, Rose and Ray, and yours and Reggie’s family members. Well, Tamara more so strutted with Earl by her side.

“Ready, sweetheart?” you heard your dad ask you.

You grinned up at your dad, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “As I’ll ever be.”

Tears began to pool in Mateo’s eyes as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You’ve grown so much,” he told you, his voice cracking. “It feels just like yesterday when I first held you in my arms. Now you’re getting married?”

“Time really does fly, huh?” you said back, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “I’m still your little girl, I promise.”

“I know,” he sighed, still smiling. “Just, remember to call from time to time, okay?”

“Of course, Dad,” you laughed. “Every minute of every day if I have to.”

“Lord knows how high your phone bills will be,” Mateo shook his head with a light laugh. “Let’s go?”

Nodding, you took your dad’s arm as you walked down the aisle. You couldn’t help but grin so hard that your cheeks ached. Everyone turned around to see you, gushing quietly. But your eyes were only on Reggie’s.

He stood at the center of the altar, his cheeks already tearstained. No matter how often he wiped his eyes, the tears kept flowing. He couldn’t help it. You were beautiful, angelic even. Your smile and laugh made him feel just as Ray said all those months ago. Like everything was right in the world. It was only just him and his Cookie, his darling, his love. And that was all that mattered. That you were his.

You finally reached up to him, your bouquet held tightly in your hands. “Hi Flicka,” you said in a quiet voice.

“You look even more gorgeous than I had ever imagined,” he whispered to you, completely in awe.

“Cheesy dork,” you shot back. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I’m your cheesy dork,” he said before turning to your dad. “Sir,” he greeted, cheeks reddened.

Mateo only smiled at the two of you talking. He knew Reggie was the one for you. “What did I say about calling me that?” he asked in a playfully stern voice. “Keep her safe, okay? And love her every day of your life.”

“I promise,” Reggie reassured him.

Mateo patted Reggie’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t want anyone else for my daughter to spend the rest of her life with,” he told him before formally passing you on to Reggie. Turning back around, you quickly mouthed “I love you” to your dad before taking Reggie’s arm.

The two of you turned back to where the officator was, only to see Bobby holding the minister’s book in his hand. “Hey, dorks,” he greeted with a snort.

You raised an eyebrow. “Reggie, I thought you called to get um...an actual minister.”

“I did,” he whispered back. “I just saw him like, a second ago. Where did he go-”

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate these fuckers finally getting it on,” Bobby continued, pretending to read from the book. “It took some time but damn they’re finally together. (N/N)’s Canadian, Reggie’s from Wyoming, everything’s a fucking lie but their love is real, so it works out-”

“Young man, leave the altar immediately!” a voice yelled. Everyone turned to see a much older man shooing Bobby away. The minister took the book, opening it and sighing. “I’m sorry, where were we?”

“Just about to marry the love of my life,” Reggie grinned.

“Yes of course,” the minister nodded and opened his book, starting to officiate the ceremony. Many tears were shed, mostly from Luke, almost all from Luke, and finally it came time where you and Reggie could take the lead.

“I believe the happy couple have prepared individual vows?”

You and Reggie both nodded, holding each other’s hands tightly and only looking into each other’s eyes.

Reggie went first,

“Cookie, we’ve had --to be honest-- a shit hand given to us. But despite all of the things thrown in our path, obstacles that forced us to stay apart, you continued to put your faith in the universe. That optimism, that complete faith in something you can’t see or feel, I admire that. Even as kids, I knew that you were exactly the kind of girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I promise that I will protect you with my life, and shower you with a million compliments and kisses every day, just to hear that laugh of yours that you hate so much. I promise to cherish every second of our lives together like my life depends on it, but if I’m being honest, if I didn’t have you in my life, I wouldn’t be living. You’ve brought a whole new world to me, and I swear to you I will never let you go.”

You fought back the urge to just kiss him right there and instead fought back your happy tears while you tried to deliver your vows, only to be interrupted before starting by Alex who nudged a tissue box near you making you and the rest of the group chuckle while you quickly dabbed away your tears and took a deep breath.

“I- I love you so much, Flicka. You are the love of my life, my partner, my best friend, and I could never find anyone as brilliant as you. I promise to love you with everything in me, despite the obstacles life throws at us. I want to wake up every morning with you by my side, laugh with you by my side, even cry with you by my side… I mean let’s be honest that last one happens more often than not,” that earned a chuckle from the boys and Rose especially. “Because let’s face it, everything in this world is always better with you, by my side. I promise you, that I will love you unconditionally throughout our lives, through every adventure, and throughout every hardship. I love you for you.”

“JUST KISS ALREADY!” Luke yelled from the side and everyone burst into laughter while the minister shook his head,

“Why did you even bother with me?” the minister asked and you and Reggie apologized. “It seems as if the most popular opinion would be to get this over with so the rings?”

Alex passed Reggie the new ring from earlier and Rose passed you the one you and Reggie had picked out.

Reggie pulled out the ring and you gasped quietly looking at the stunning ring.

“Oh my God Reggie how did you afford that?” you whispered as he slipped the ring on your finger.

“It’s passed down in the family,” Reggie explained. “My mom and dad wanted me to give it to you,”

You looked over at Darcy and Diana, mouthing thank you and slipping Reggie’s ring on his finger.

“By the power vested in me by the State of California I now pronounce you husband and wife-,”

“You may now kiss the bride!” the boys yelled and the minister threw his hands up in the air and nodded.

“Go ahead, kiss her,”

You and Reggie were both grinning like idiots while he pulled you into his arms, pressing a full kiss to your lips while your guests cheered loudly.

“Now food?” Reggie asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah I guess, Mr. Peters,” you sighed and he grinned.

“Why thank you Mrs. Peters,” he kissed you once more and everyone whooped and hollered again.

Damn, (Y/N) Peters, you liked the sound of that.

—

“No guys I don’t want to,” you whined, trying to run away from the microphones.

“Cookie you promised,” Reggie pouted.

“Yes get your ass up on that makeshift stage right now (Y/N), or I swear to God I’m pulling out the rosary-,”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it, just leave the rosary out of this!” you begged and hopped up onto the stage with Reggie’s help.

He handed you a microphone and you bit your lip looking at him as if you were asking if you were really going to do this.

“Embrace your awesomeness Cookie, you’ve got this,” he grinned. “And don’t worry all the guys and even Rose are backing us up,”

“Even Ray?”

“We put him on tambourine,” Reggie nodded and you let out a small laugh.

“Ladies and gents can I have your attention please,” Luke called out and your guests all turned to the front. “The bride and groom would like to share a special song with you, accompanied by Sunset Curve,”

“And company!” Rose added and there were small chuckles heard through the area.

“You ready Cookie?”

“No, but hit it,” you nodded and Reggie looked at his band mates, counting them in and singing,

“I don’t give a damn about the way you touch me when we’re alone. You can hold my hand if no one’s home. Do you like it when I’m away? If I wasn’t here in my body baby would you love me the same?”

You were hesitant at first, only adding in your harmonies quietly while Reggie took the lead as planned. Then the chorus came, and not only were you joined by Reggie, but Bobby, Luke, Alex and Rose.

“Oh baby I am a wreck when I’m without you. I need you here to stay.”

Reggie winked at you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You swayed together, quietly singing along until the second verse came. Again your voice went quiet, but Reggie turned your face to his and you locked eyes, giving you the push to raise your volume and get into it,

“Oh, oh, oh, oh and I know that you know listen close and move slow I can't speak fast or else I'll crack. It's the price I pay for going back and I've dreamed to be seen now I've got it, do I want it?”

Rose was looking over at you with the proudest face you’d seen since you had given her the news of the engagement. There wouldn’t be any death by rosary today.

As soon as the song ended, you were met with a deafening applause, but none of that mattered to you. Reggie passed his microphone over to Ray before cupping your face with his hands and kissing you softly.

“I knew you could do it,” he joked, pulling away.

“Shut up,” you laughed quietly. “I didn’t mind singing, now that I think about it. It was fun.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Does that mean you’ll be joining our band-”

“Don’t even think about it, Peters,” you shot back.

“Of course, Mrs. Peters,” he told you with a smile. “Man, I’ll never get tired of saying that.”

“Good,” you grinned. “Because I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

—

After the rush of wedding planning, it felt incredibly refreshing to finally relax. No more planning who’s sitting where or writing up a “family friendly” setlist, it was just you and Reggie.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Unlike anything I could have ever imagined.”

You ripped your eyes away from the beautiful buildings to smile at your husband. Reggie stood by your side, staring up at the scenery.

“Does this top Wyoming, Flicka?” you teased.

Reggie rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his and kissed it softly. “Anywhere is Wyoming when I’m with you, Cookie.”

You made a sour face. “Are you calling me Wyoming, Flicka?” you asked.

“I thought it was more romantic in my head,” he shrugged his shoulders. “But what did I say, this place waited for you didn’t it?”

“It really did,” you smiled. “And I hate it when you’re right,” you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking back out at the city again, admiring the opera houses and ancient architecture of a once prosperous empire.

Silence filled the air, aside from the occasional passersby. Reggie sighed, kissing the top of your head.

“You know,” he mused. “I hope to bring our kids here one day. You know, see the place their mother loves more than anything in the world?”

You bit your lip to hold back your grin. “Really?” you said in response.

Reggie hummed. “Well, this place makes you happy, right?” he asked you. “I’d like to show our kids around here. Share a piece of our story with them, too. Our adventures, all of it.”

“No problemo my dude, already done,”

“E-Excuse me?” Reggie coughed, turning his body to fully face you.

You couldn’t hold back your smile any longer. “I found out a couple of weeks ago,” you told him honestly. “I thought it would be best to tell you here.”

Reggie looked down at your stomach, his hands gently grazing your shirt. “T-there’s-” he stammered. “Our baby’s in there? As in, yours and my child?”

“No, Alex is the father,” you deadpanned. “Or wait no is it Bobby? Or Ray? Or maybe-”

Reggie cut you off, pulling you into a deep kiss. As soon as he pulled away, you looked into his eyes. They were filled with tears, and his smile was incredibly wide.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered. “Oh my God, you're pregnant! I can’t breathe, I-”

You grabbed his shoulders. “Are you okay?” you asked, concern starting to seep in.

Reggie swallowed loudly. “Of course, I’m just-” he took a deep breath. “We’re going to be parents. I’m going to be a dad!”

“Hey you don’t know that,” you teased. “I never told you who the father is.”

“Shut up, Cookie,” he laughed, kissing you once more. “You’re carrying my little chocolate chip,”

Giggling, you shook your head. “You’re ridiculous when it comes to making up names.”

“Then our entire family will have to deal with them,” Reggie insisted. “All four kids, when the time comes.”

“Lord, I pray for them when they have to go to school,” you laughed.

You and Reggie sat down on a park bench. His hand immediately found its place on your stomach. There wasn’t any bump, but Reggie didn’t care. His child was there. His little chocolate chip.

The chocolate chip to his Cookie. He liked that. He liked that a lot.

general taglist: @katrina765 @glowstick-lesbian @well-hes-just-too-cute @slytherhoes @notasofti @sunsetcurving @kmsmedine @dxrling-neptune @mystic-writings @kmsmedine @acunamatata56

will they won’t they taglist: @lil-lex1 @cookiecakeslive @ifilwtmfc

dm us to join our taglist!

remember to like, comment, reblog, and send memes! <3

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms fic #luke patterson #luke patterson x platonic!reader #alex mercer #alex mercer x platonic!reader #alex x willie #reggie peters #reggie peters x reader #reggie peters x fem!reader #reggie peters fanfic #reggie peters fic #will they won't they #will they won’t they : the sequel

62 notes · View notes

poketin · 4 years

Text

An Exercise in Observation

(can also be found on ao3 under poketin)!

Kanamori Sayaka has a sharp eye.

She’s known for it. The label on her favorite milk and what to look out for when someone’s trying to cheap out of her cashing in their favor for some of the good stuff. The way the fresher money tree leaves jut out rather than the slight sag they acquire as time passes. The guilty hunch of Mizusaki’s shoulders as she spends too long trying to make a shot perfect instead of getting things done on time.

It’s why when Asakusa fiddles and squirms in ways different than usual (and yes of course Kanamori has her comrade’s mannerisms filed away, you never know what information may come in handy for your own purposes), Kanamori notices.

Asakusa squirming is nothing new, fiddling with pencils, chewing on her rabbit, coiling in her chair then springing up when her energy needs to go somewhere, “BA-BWAA!” as she helpfully explained. Kanamori knows it helps her concentrate, lays the tracks in front of her mind’s train as it barrels ahead with anecdotes, tangents, and ideas, trying to wrangle its path before it derails and overwhelms her senses.

But Asakusa is twitching in a way that suggests she’s trying to curb her movement, only lurching slightly on the same side each time, not alternating like the blur of her swinging legs or crisscrossing ankles as she taps on the floor, but a movement devoid of silence save for a hiss between her teeth.

Irritation seizes Kanamori’s body, overriding any possibility of worry or patience as she spins herself in her chair and slams her feet on the ground, one leg draped over the other.

“What are you doing.”

It comes out as a statement because Kanamori hates pointless questions, preferring an acknowledgment that “Yes, I know something’s wrong and no amount of unconvincing jabber is going to prove otherwise, so spit it out already,” but in fewer words that can save both of them time.

Despite this, the course of action Asakusa takes is of no surprise to anyone as she tries to withhold her shock, her hat hopping off her head for the briefest moment. She turns to Kanamori with GUILT practically written on her forehead in thick, black lines. She’s either brave or stupid enough to look her in the eyes, nonetheless. Mizusaki smells danger, and hightails it out of the clubroom with the excuse that she’s going to buy them all drinks.

“W-whatever could you mean, Kanamori-kun?”

Her uniform looks fine, a smudge of dirt here and there, a grass stain peaking out behind the sleeve of her blazer, maybe even a twig in her hair if her adventure was recent enough.

Her hands are unmarred, curling and clasping at each other as they are, no bandaids, no bruising, no scabs.

Her hat’s as worn as ever, no new holes or tears, no irreversible bleach stains from a traumatic laundry mishap.

Kanamori’s gaze combs over Asakusa’s body but she doesn’t twist or turn in her chair at all. The telltale signs of Asakusa’s nervousness are what the unimaginative often call “normal.” She curls in on herself slightly, her eyes straight ahead rather than bouncing around the room finding the foundations of a fighter plane or a laser cannon in every cranny of ruffled steel, her legs hang like dead weights, hands steady in their twisting instead of squeezing love into her rabbit or bunching up in her clothes. It’s her usual self-expression that’s labeled “suspicious,” confirming for Kanamori once more that the ignorance of people has no stopping point.

Then there’s that pinched expression on her face that Kanamori doesn’t like at all.

“Did a teacher tell you off again?”

There’s been problems, Kanamori’s opinion of faculty falling somehow even lower every time a teacher snaps at Asakusa to pay attention as she doodles (as if she doesn’t get above-average marks in many subjects) or tells her to stand in the hallway if she can’t stop being a distraction.

“No, it’s been awhile since that’s happened,” Asakusa says, shaking her head. Inwardly, Kanamori notes with satisfaction that her anonymous letters about being “unable to receive proper education under teachers that see fit to constantly single out one student” have achieved their goal faster than she predicted.

Outwardly, she raises a single eyebrow.

Asakusa sighs, and before Kanamori has a chance to stop her, stands up and rolls her skirt up partway. Luckily, Kanamori’s brain hasn’t caught up quickly enough to fry itself and send heat blasting into her cheeks, so she notices the problem rather quickly.

“Mosquito bites.”

There’s an angry, swelling bump right above her right knee, with two more on her outer left thigh. With the way she leans down to tug at her socks, there may very well be more on her lower legs.

Deciding on whether to take a break and get medical help or ignore her discomfort to keep working on backgrounds seems to have been an easy choice for their director.

Kanamori stands up and makes her way over, without a sound.

“Sometimes you need to feel the grass between your toes…” Asakusa mumbles, as if that makes her case more reasonable or sympathetic.

But Kanamori is not one to pity.

She stands in front of Asakusa, who only wilts now that Kanamori is directly in front of her, and lets her fist fall onto Asakusa’s head, a common gesture of her disdain.

“And where was the bug spray in your pack?”

Asakusa jolts up, her arms crossed over her body protectively.

“To bring chemical warfare into their natural territory is a war crime, Kanamori-kun!”

Her eyes shine with such righteous indignation that Kanamori has to clamp her teeth down on the rush of fondness that floods through her. Of course the girl who once let a cockroach ride on top of her hat so it could “experience the world in an entirely new way” would never kill a mosquito that didn’t first invade her home base.

“Will it hamper your productivity?”

“Well…”

Kanamori sighs and cinches her arms around Asakusa’s neck, pulling her along.

“W-wait, Kanamori-kun! The power of my will won’t be defeated by mere itchiness—!”

Her voice becomes a muffled squeak as Kanamori tosses her onto the couch and flips open her bag. She points at the couch without looking up.

“Sit. And no scratching.”

She pulls herself into a seated position as Kanamori digs around in her backpack.

Asakusa immediately swings one of her legs, letting out a strangled note of distress as one of her larger bites brushes against the fabric.

Kanamori, now in front of her, grabs the leg in midair.

“K-kanamori-kun?!”

She could focus on the way Asakusa scrunches her mouth in bafflement or the way her brown eyes flicker between Kanamori’s own eyes and clasped hand. She could think about how soft the skin of Asakusa’s leg seems right above where she’s holding her socked ankle. She could read into the way Asakusa doesn’t jerk away from her, how she seems to trust her completely and is ready to follow her lead.

Instead Kanamori drops her leg and tries to make her voice less hoarse as she says, “Don’t move.”

She kneels down and pops the cap off the anti-swelling pain relief gel. More tenderly than she’d ever admit, she squeezes some onto her finger and rubs it on the bite near her knee. Asakusa sighs as the cool gel soothes the burning area.

Kanamori never hesitates, but she’s not sure how to approach the bites in more…intimate areas. She and Asakusa have always been on the same wavelength though, and wordlessly Asakusa leans over to roll her socks down, nose nearly brushing Kanamori’s as she straightens back up to adjust her skirt once more.

There’s only a couple bumps on her lower legs, and Kanamori gets through them faster than she wants to, what with the last few targets waiting for her.

“Asakusa-shi.”

“Kanamori-kun.”

Of all times, it’s now that Asakusa’s voice is clearest, firmest. There’s a hint of challenge in her eyes and her face is enviably clear of any blush.

Kanamori has never been one to stall on what she wants.

She squeezes out more gel, sliding her other hand up Asakusa’ leg, just barely grazing it until she reaches the spot where the final bites are. Once there, she gently grips onto Asakusa’s leg, her thumb trailing her flesh, urging her to turn so the welt is in clearer view. Asakusa obliges.

Kanamori has a good poker face even on the worst of days. Still, as she slathers gel on Asakusa’s soft skin, its coldness contrasts rather pointedly with the heat coming off her own traitorous face.

The door opens just as Kanamori is finishing up. To their credit, neither of them jump at Mizusaki’s return. Instead, Kanamori screws and unscrews the cap of the gel, cursing design flaws as she struggles to get it back on, while Asakusa hops off the couch. She smooths out her skirt and gives Kanamori a brilliant smile without a hint of their previous tension.

“Thanks, Kanamori-kun!”

She grabs a can of peach tea from Mizusaki and dashes to her desk, throwing herself once more into the spirals of far-off mountains and billowing clouds that hide them away.

Kanamori ignores the grin Mizusaki gives her as she hands off the cool bottle of milk, but what she doesn’t miss is Mizusaki whispering, “You so owe me,” as she straightens back up. They both know she’s not talking about the milk, and Mizusaki skips to her workstation before Kanamori can so much as scowl in her direction.

Never mind the fact that she’s smiling instead.

#knas #kanamori x asakusa #sayaka kanamori #asakusa midori #kanamori sayaka x asakusa midori #eizouken #keep your hands off eizouken!#Eizouken ni wa Te wo Dasu na!#kanakusa #asamori #keep your hands off eizouken #poketin fics

131 notes · View notes

nevermord · 3 years

Text

Lepus Liberation

This is a fun little gift I did for RedBand.Jackalope! We were just chatting a bit and talking about bunny rescue centers when my muse pulled out a hammer and clonked me on the head, prompting this story! Jillian the Jackalope hears about a less-than-reputable feral bunny rescue center and goes to give them a piece of her mind. However, it seems that the "good" doctor may be breaking a few rules at Trivial Matters once more. Now she's going to show them they can't just use bunnies to get money. She's going to show them in a BIG way. Jillian grumbled under her breath as she sped down the open desert road. Her blue Jeep Cherokee's engine roared in the relative desert silence as her sandal clad paw pressed down harder on the accelerator. The heat coming off of the blinding sand all around caused the air to shimmer and created phantom puddles on the blacktop. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as her mind kept going back to what she had seen that morning.

The fluffy, white-furred jackalope was practically trembling with anger as she remembered the message she had seen that morning. A news report on a so-called feral bunny rescue where the owners had no idea what they were doing but somehow operated just within the rule of law. Half of the poor things were unbrushed, their coats so matted that their fur was falling out in clumps. Not to mention they hadn't been properly separated so nearly all of the females rabbits were currently pregnant!

She had instantly decided she was heading down there to give them a piece of her mind. The staff needed to either learn how to watch over the rabbits the right way or take them across town to a real animal shelter where they would be properly cared for. Exactly how she was going to make them do this was another problem entirely.

She drove along the desert road, her temper began to cool a bit as the warm, dry air from her open window rushed through her soft fur and long, brown hair. She sighed softly and itched at the stump of her broken antler. She realized there realistically wasn't anything she could do, and the thought of a face to face conflict with these random strangers was causing a knot to form in the pit of her stomach. Checking in the rear-view mirror and seeing nobody coming up behind her, she decided to pull over to the side of the road and think a minute.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even hear the loud, droning buzz of the over-sized silvery mosquito as it swept in through her open window. She didn't even feel it land lightly on the collar of her black t-shirt. Even the quiet hiss as its needle-like proboscis extended went completely unnoticed. A glowing green liquid dripped from it as the tiny mechanical monstrosity leaned towards the vulnerable flesh of her neck.

“OUCH! Damn it!!” She jumped and slapped at the side of her neck, an expression of disgust on her face as she felt something fairly large crunch under her hand. Looking down at her palm, she saw some kind of green glop staining her fur and what she thought had to be a crushed bluebottle fly. What other biting insect looked so shiny and metallic after all, even if it did seem a bit big. She wrinkled her nose as she grabbed a leftover fast food napkin from a pocket on the drivers' side door, wiping the mess off of her fingers. “Ugh, just one annoyance after another today.” She tugged at her seat belt grumbling about how tight it had gotten and adjusted it a little as she got ready to turn her truck around and head back towards home.

As she reached out to turn the key she overshot it by an inch or so. She blinked, taking a look at her hand, turning it from side to side in front of her. It looked swollen somehow, the knuckles a little stiff as she flexed her fingers. “What the hell, am I having an allergic reaction to a bug bite now?”

She leaned over to pop open the glove compartment, her larger fingers fumbling with the latch. Finally getting it open, she hunted for a mirror to get a better look at the bite mark. The jackalope was sure she would find some hideous, swollen red welt on the side of her neck. As she sat back up, she winced in pain as she felt her one unbroken antler rip across the ceiling, gouging a deep tear in the headliner before scraping the metal underneath. Her eyes went wide as she ducked down a little, getting short of breath as she felt the seat belt constricting her waist a bit more. She threw the driver's side door open with enough force to rock the truck on its springs. Almost in a panic, she couldn't unfasten the tightening seat belt from around her midsection. She yanked hard on the fabric and there was a loud snap, sending the poor jackalope tumbling out of the vehicle and onto the hot, sandy pavement of the desert road. She pushed herself up off of the ground, dusting off the sand as she stood. Reaching out with one hand she slammed the door of the car shut in frustration, nearly causing the vehicle to roll over. A slight wave of vertigo swept over her as she looked more closely at the still gently rocking cobalt blue truck. It had always been about nose height on her, her eyes looking right over the top of it. Now, however it was just shoulder height, and chest height a few seconds after that. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to calm herself and failing miserably. “Okay. I shouldn’t panic. But... I think I’m definitely panicking! What? Whatwhatwhatwhat?!” The slowly growing jackalope took a step back from the vehicle and immediately lost her balance. The heel of her paw had extended back off of the rear of her sandal as she grew and offered no support as she toppled back and landed heavily on her rump! “OW! Mmmmf...” She groaned, focused on the pain in her rear for a split second before realizing that the pain in her feet was increasing. She glared down at her paws, already a bit over-sized because of her species and now seemingly expanding by the second. Her toes almost seemed to be inflating as they were constricted tighter and tighter by the sandal straps. It wasn't long before the tortured leather snapped and sent the soles flying from her big, fluffy paws to bounce off of the side of her truck. The cuffs of her blue denim jeans were rapidly retreating up her calves as the brass button on them snapped open. She gasped, grabbing at her waist as the zipper tore itself apart. Looking down, she could see her t-shirt stretching itself rapidly into a halter top as her poor, straining bra was overflowed by her furry endowments. There was an almost metallic snap as the tortured support device ended up lying useless atop the rapidly shredding denim stretched across her swelling thighs.

She blinked her big, pink eyes as her vision blurred. The rising jackalope crossed her eyes to see a tiny pair of glasses lying flat atop her snout. She leaned forwards a little and they slipped right off, landing with a soft clink atop her dwindling SUV. Scrambling back away from the vehicle before she grew into it and caused serious damage, the newly minted macro realized that just one of her paws was now larger than the dependable vehicle that had carried her all the way out here just moments ago. It was just a few seconds more before she realized that she was completely nude. In spite of her thick, fluffy fur keeping the giantess completely decent, she leaped to her feet with an earth-shaking boom, wrapping one arm over her chest and placing a hand over her crotch. Heat blossomed in her cheeks, the deep red blush forming beneath her white fur was easily visible.

The giantess' shout echoed out across the empty vastness of the desert, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” Embarrassment was quickly being overpowered by anger. She had come all of the way out here to give those so called bunny rescuers a piece of her mind. Now she was in the middle of the desert, naked, and gigantic. Frowning, she moved off of the road, into the soft yellow sand. It was actually somewhat soothing to her aching paws as she started stomping her way towards her original destination. It wasn't long before the giant had reached her goal. The so-called bunny shelter was just up ahead. Inside the building, a ferret, a deer and a mouse were racing around, trying to catch various items that were falling from various rickety shelves as they were hit by what they thought was a minor earthquake. As the tremors grew stronger they gave up on trying to save the toppling merchandise and quickly moved outside. They froze in place as they gazed up at the fluffy giantess standing before them, tapping one massive paw impatiently on the sand. They were practically throwing one another to the ground as they tried to make a run for it.

“Oh no you don't!” Jillian boomed, lifting one huge, soft paw and plopping it down on the fleeing wannabe rescuers.

She pinned them down against the warm sand as she hissed through gritted teeth, “I've been walking through the desert, my feet hurt, and you're staying RIGHT THERE until I get these poor bunnies out of here and to a REAL rescue shelter.” The gigantic jackalope slowly slid her paw through the sand. Bunching it up beside her huge foot, she ended up burying the workers partially in a pile of it, leaving their heads and arms free to cough and struggle. She turned her attention to the rickety metal building and shrugged. Gripping the front edge of the tin roof in her powerful hands she started rolling it back like it was the lid of a huge tin of sardines. Squinting her eyes as she peered through the gloom, her heart nearly broke as she saw hutches filled with bunnies everywhere, many of them in truly horrible shape. Casting about for some way to carry the poor things, she spied the company van sitting off to the side of the employee parking lot. Crouching down beside the pile of sand, she grumbled out, “I should squash the lot of you for the way you've treated these poor babies, but instead, you're going to help fix things.”

She used a finger to carefully dig out the employees who were still struggling in the sand. “You're going to unlock the back of that van and you're carefully going to secure every last bunny hutch there is into the back of it. Right now.” It took a bit of time to get everything loaded and the doors shut. One of the workers, a slinky looking ferret started to open the driver's side door, “So, where we goin'?” Jillian slammed the door shut with a single fluffy finger. It impacted the van with enough force to cave in the tough metal, making her wince internally. She would have to be careful moving it with the bunnies inside.

“WE aren't going anywhere. I'm taking these poor things to a real rescue and you're all going to learn to care for bunnies properly.” She gently scoops the van up in one hand, cradling it against her belly as she glared down at them all.

“Because if I ever hear about this sort of thing happening again?” She cocked one leg back and kicked the side of their main building. There was an earsplitting bang accompanied by the tortured shriek of tearing metal. Without the roof to help hold it in place, the corrugated metal wall shredded apart like tissue paper as her paw blasted through and slammed down inside. She crushed desks, chairs, and filing cabinets flat against the concrete floor. Turning her white, fuzzy tail towards the shocked furres and her nose up into the air, she slowly walked off into the desert to the north, her booming footsteps echoing into the distance.

Her towering legs were beginning to ache as it took a good half hour of walking before she reached her destination. Car alarms were blaring all around her as she carefully picked her way through the suburbs around town. She laid back her ears, trying to block out the piercing noise as she tried not to cause too much damage. Finally, she carefully crouched down, lowering the van gently into the parking lot outside the Happy Hutch Bunny Rescue. As lightly as she could, she used a claw tip to tap on the side of the building. It was a young dog, a retriever of some kind from the look of it, who stepped outside and very nearly turned and ran right back in before Jillian called out for him to wait. “Hold on, please. There are some rabbits in the back of this van in pretty bad shape. They really need your help.” Reaching out, she ripped the rear of the van open, no longer caring about any damage done to the vehicle. Seeing the shape that the rabbits within were in, he quickly called the rest of the staff on his radio. The motley assortment of workers formed a sort of fireman's bucket brigade to get the hutches full of injured rabbits inside the facility as quickly as possible. The giant jackalope smiled brightly and sighed, rubbing absently at the stump of her broken antler as she felt that this was a job well done. She crouched down above the crew, telling them, “Thank you all so much for your help.” Rising back up to her full towering height, she looked down at the van for a moment. “Oh yeah, you guys might want to call the number on the side of that thing so they can come get it back.” Shrugging a shoulder, she then carefully picked her way back through the sprawling suburbs and back out into the desert.

It was nearly sunset when Jillian finally saw the deep blue blur of her truck in the distance. Everything as far as she could see was a brilliant orange hue that the sunset cast upon the sand. She was completely exhausted, her feet hurt horribly, and more than anything she really wanted to just go home. “Wait. What the hell am I going to do when I get home? I can't even fit in my yard, much less my house at this size!”

Feeling utterly defeated, she slumped her way closer to the vehicle, then blinked as she realized that it didn't seem to be getting any closer as she approached. Was it a mirage? Was she actually lost somewhere in the middle of the desert? Her heart leaped in her chest as she realized the reason it didn't seem to be getting closer. She was shrinking! She was finally returning to normal! Whatever it was that had caused her to grow into a macro must have finally worn off. She breathed a huge sigh of relief as she picked up the pace, hurrying back to her truck. She reached it just as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first chill of the desert evening started to creep in. She stared at the road near her truck in awe. The pavement was cracked and broken, crushed into the shape of a huge paw. Her ruined sandals were flung to the side of the road underneath the truck and a few scattered rags were all that remained of her ruined clothing.

She headed back over to her truck, for once in her life actually glad she had left the keys in the ignition. She was just about to wonder if she should risk driving without her glasses when a soft glint of reflected moonlight caught her eye. She gave a little whoop of joy as she stood on tiptoe for a second, ignoring the pain in her calves as she grabbed her glasses from the roof of the truck where they had landed earlier and slipped them on. The bridge a little bent, but she could easily tighten them when she got home! She sighed happily to herself as she perched her glasses atop her muzzle, smiling to herself. A feeling of contentment and a job well done gave her peace of mind as Jillian slipped behind the wheel of the old blue Cherokee and started home.

The End?

#jackalope #bunny #growth #anthropomorphic #furry #destruction #rescue #contained #restrained #fluffy kaiju

10 notes · View notes

stardustryewriting · 3 years

Text

A Learning Process (1)

AO3 Link: here

Synopsis: Bakugou isn’t exactly in touch with all of his feelings. Kirishima usually doesn’t mind. At least not, until Bakugou starts to get weird around him.

Part 2 3 4 5

Observational Learning

Contrary to popular belief, Bakugou didn’t mind his class all that much. He had called them ‘extras’ a lot, when school had begun, but that was mostly because he was really bad at remembering people’s names. All in all, they were a decent bunch, some of them really strong, some of them aiming really high and all of them very determined. He could appreciate that, at least.

What he couldn’t appreciate, however, was their tendency to get involved in all kinds of gossip. Or, to be more exact, how loud they tended to be, when they found a particularly interesting piece of gossip. Getting mixed up in other people’s business was their thing. But being obnoxiously loud about it and basically screaming their findings to each other in the classroom, got him involved too. And he hated being involved in anybody’s business.

People told him - quite often actually - he eluded an aura that made him unapproachable. That he always seems like he was going to snap and scream at someone. That really, people only asked him for help, when every other possible choice was eliminated prior. Which was mostly bullshit, of course. Kirishima asked for his help all the time, without ever being scared of him. And he only really snapped when people got on his nerves for too long. Or when Deku was involved, which was the same thing really. Deku just got on his nerves a lot faster than other people. Still his ‘aura of unapproachable’ kept him from being involved in most of his classmates shenanigans.

Most, being the key word.

No matter how much he scowled, how much he glared or how annoyed the undertone in his voice got when he told them that ‘No, he did not care at all. He doesn’t give a rats ass about it.’ , none of this helped against Kirishima’s sunshine declaration of ‘They are finally, officially together’. Because, of course Kirishima doesn’t care about Bakugou’s obvious bad mood and his blatant disinterest on the topic. He never did. It was one of the main reasons why they were as good friends as they were. It was also annoying Bakugou to no end, at that moment.

“And who cares?”, he grunted, throwing his shoes up on the table and looking out of the window to drive to point home. And really, it spoke for the general mood in the class right now, that Iida didn’t even try to reprimand him for that. Usually this would be the start of an argument on being proper and respectful. An argument that both Kirishima and Deku would try to keep on the down low, by trying to mediate between the two. But right now, Iida’s attention was all taken by trying to calm the ruckus and getting everyone to sit down, before Aizawa would come in to start homeroom. For once, Bakugou could agree with Iida, even if he would never say it out loud. They were too damn noisy.

“You can’t be serious!”, Kirishima exclaimed and even without looking, Bakugou could tell that there was a big smile on his lips, “Todoroki and Midoriya danced around their feelings forever. This is a big development!”

“It’s two dudes kissing! No need to make a spectacle out of it!”, he retorted, shooting Kirishima a look which he hoped conveyed just how done he was with this. Ever since these two had shown up holding hands that morning, it was the only thing on everyone's mind. And after Todoroki had stated, in a very blunt way that only Todoroki could do, that yes they kissed, the whole class just exploded with euphoria. As if it was their personal accomplishment. Which it wasn’t, Bakugou wouldn’t even call it much of an accomplishment at all. It would have happened eventually, anyways.

“Well it was a long time coming!”, Kirishima argued back like it was his personal mission to make Bakugou see just how important this was, “You could at least be happy for your friends.”

“They’re not my friends!”, Bakugou argued instantly, before Kirishima got some other weird ideas in his head. Hell would be frozen over, before he called Deku his friend. He was just about to tell that to the dumbass next to him, when the classroom door opened, revealing Aizawa.

The man looked way too tired and done for a Tuesday morning, but today Bakugou resonated with that on a deeply personal level. He too wished that this entire week was over already, in hopes the waves of euphoria from the ‘news’ will have died down by next week. Realistically, he knew the chances were slim. He refused to think about that. Aizawa somehow managed to get all of the class to their seats and be quiet with just one look, so really Bakugou was mostly grateful for him that morning.

That gratefulness lasted exactly two minutes, before Aizawa announced another field-trip-turned-training-exercise. At least he had a month to mentally prepare himself for that.

__________________

That fact that he would need to prepare for that field more than just mentally, didn’t hit him until lunch break. And to be fair, he wasn’t really thinking about it then, either. He was actually just about to take a bite out of the Onigiri from his bento (that he had made himself and no, he wouldn’t make one for anyone else, no matter how much they begged), when Kirishima interrupted his peace yet again.

Bakugou couldn’t say he liked that tendency.

“Shit guys, does anyone have bug spray?”, he asked, mouth full with his sandwich, which honestly irked Bakugou even more than the question itself. Had no one ever taught this guy basic table manners? The answer was apparently no, no one ever bothered. Or maybe it just was a thing in their group, because both Kaminari and Sero also had their mouths full, when they exclaimed that no, there was no bug spray to have between them. Which was a stupid thing to be that aggrevated about.

“What do you need bug spray for anyway?”, Bakugou mumbled, after swallowing and he could already feel himself getting annoyed. What a stupid discussion to have over lunch, really.

“The training camp?”, Kaminari stated, his voice getting higher at the end, even though it clearly wasn’t phrased as a question, “I can’t have the mosquitos eat me up again. I swear, I’m just too damn cute.”

“Questionable”, Jirou said, wholly unimpressed by Kaminari getting mad at her and instead just opting to continue eating quietly. When she even got to their table, Bakugou had no idea.

“He is not completely wrong tho”, Kirishima said and Bakugou could see Kaminari in the background puffing out his chest and raising his chin, proudly. As if the idiot had any justification for being proud. He just stated a simple fact. “We do need bug spray for the mosquitos.” Kaminari visibly deflated at that. Bakugou, on the other hand, could feel his anger rising. Did that idiot really think Kirishima would agree that he was cute?

“Just go shopping then”, he said, just wanting to end this damn discussion. It wasn’t even useful, with the answer lying so obviously within reach. They all just liked to make a big fuss out of nothing. Exactly like that same morning.

“Can’t”, came a chorus of answers from all around their table with various excuses. Jirou had study sessions with Yaoyorozu. Kaminari booked the training hall, surprising everyone. Bakugou didn’t really care.

“I have time. Want me to get something for you guys?”, Kirishima volunteered starting what was possibly the worst verbal onslaught happening that day. Which said something, considering the ruckus these idiots had made that morning. Kirishima dealt with it very patiently tho, writing down who needed what. Which proved that Kirishima was way more organised than Bakugou would have given him credit for.

“Do you have anything planned this afternoon?”, Kirishima asked, with a strange undertone to his voice, that Bakugou couldn’t quite place. He could however think of where this question was headed. And he was quick to shut it down.

“I’m not going shopping with you!”

“Aw, c’mon man. This’ll be fun”, Kirishima argued, shooting Bakugou his best open-mouthed smile, presenting all of his teeth. If he thought that would sway Bakugou’s decision, he would need to think again. No way would Bakugou cave that easily.

“Find someone else.” And then to signal that this talk was really, completely over, Bakugou took another bite of his food. Kirishima just winked at him, unbothered by Bakugou being the way he is and instead turned around in his chair to face the table behind them. Oh no.

“Hey, Midoriya”, he shouted, which was unnecessary, because Deku was two arm lengths away at best, “where did you buy that super good bug spray again? You know the one you had for the last training camp.”

“That was Uraraka’s. She bought it at the mall. I don’t know the name of the shop, but I can show it to you. Are you free this afternoon?”, Deku answered, ever the helpful idiot that he was. Well, at least Kirishima found his shopping buddy. And Bakugou could be at peace.

“Sure am, thanks. Meet in front of the store at 3:30? I’ll bring Bakugou.”

No, he sure as hell wouldn’t. Bakugou was quick to voice that.

__________________

The question ‘How the hell did I get talked into this?’ went through Bakugou’s mind approximately a thousand times, between leaving the dorms and arriving at the shopping center. Which was impressive, because the way had only taken them fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes that Kirishima had filled with bright chatter, either blissfully oblivious to Bakugou’s mood or willingly ignoring it. He would regret this for sure. Bakugou would make him regret it. Later. For now, he was content to just listen to Kirishima chatter about anything and everything that came to his mind. It wasn’t the best use of his time, but it wasn’t the worst either. Not that he would ever admit that.

And so, while Kirishima’s chatter became a pleasant buzz in the back of his mind and Bakugou was starting to think about what he would need for their next training camp, he felt himself being more calm than he had been the entire day. Which wasn’t hard, not with the day he had, but it was still nice.

It was promptly taken from him.

Crossing the last traffic light separating them from the shopping center, where Deku was already waiting for them, he saw something. Something that made him want to turn around and go home again. To hell with Kirishima not wanting to go alone, that was no reason why he should subject himself to what will essentially be an afternoon of torture. There was no way Bakugou would just accept this like it was nothing.

Deku brought his fucking boyfriend.

“Midoriya, Todoroki”, Kirishima shouted happily, being way more enthusiastic than he had any right to. He sped up, holding up one of his arms to wave at them, which Deku promptly returned just as enthusiastic. Todoroki gave a way more timid wave and Bakugou decided he wouldn’t bother at all. No need to fake friendliness. Or that he wanted to be there.

“Kirishima, It’s good to see you”, Deku greeted, as if they hadn’t just spent hours at school together and Bakugou felt like punching something again. Why did he always feel to need to use those overly polite yet completely unnecessary phrases? Why couldn’t the idiot just be normal.

“We just saw them at school”, Todoroki pointed out and Bakugou would have nodded to agree with him, but he had his pride. No way he was going to openly agree with Deku’s boyfriend on anything. Even if it was criticizing Deku. So while Deku explained to his socially stunted boyfriend what a polite phrase was, which somehow developed into a discussion about whether or not those were time wasting ( Yes, they are, Bakugou wanted to shout, but that would be admitting to listening in on their conversations.), Bakugou started one last try to get away from all of this before it became even more of a waste of time.

“Hey Kirishima”, he addressed the boy, who looked at Deku and Todoroki with something close to a fond smile, “have fun third-wheeling on their date. I’m going home.” And with that he turned his back, hoping to get out before Kirishima could make an argument against it. A futile hope, really.

“No, come on, Bakugou”, Kirishima said in a voice that sounded an awful lot like begging, so much so, that it made Bakugou stop midstep, “I didn’t know he would bring Todoroki. Please don’t leave me alone, I don’t wanna be a third wheel.”

“And how am I supposed to help that?”

“Simple”, Kirishima, who walked around so he could face him again, smiled at him like he was the fucking sun himself, “You stay here with me, so I don’t feel left out all the time.”

“And why would I do that?”, Bakugou inquired, feeling how he got closer and closer to yelling out his frustrations. It was Kirishima’s stupid idea to go shopping with Deku, so Kirishima should be the one dealing with all of the consequences. By himself. He had no right to involve Bakugou in this.

“Because we’re friends?”, Kirishima argued, but Bakugou could tell by the way he winced at himself, that he wasn’t convinced by his own argument. He shouldn’t be. Since when did friendship mean having to subject himself to the drama that Kirishima essentially brought over himself. Old Bakugou would have laughed at him and went on his way.

But old Bakugou wasn’t really hero material. Old Bakugou also wasn’t Kirishima’s friend.

“Fine”, Bakugou grunted and Kirishima’s lit up immediately, “but you owe me.”

“Sure.” Kirishima smiled easily leading him back to where Deku and Todoroki were waiting for them, obviously finished with whatever they were doing. At least Deku had the decency to look ashamed and apologize for getting off-track (wasting their time, if you asked Bakugou). Kirishima waved the apology away and they finally got started shopping. Bakugou couldn’t shake the feeling that this was gonna be a long afternoon.

__________________

He was right, of course.

Todoroki and Deku continued to flirt incessantly. Bakugou had a burning pain in his eyes from rolling them too much and a new record in fake-gagging. Kirishima always reprimanded him for the last one. The idiots in question seemed painfully oblivious to their flirting, which made it that much more irritating. They promised they would stop everytime and then they just continued. Bakugou was about ready to scream the entire mall down.

Kirishima took it all way too lightly, in his opinion. He smiled at them gleefully and he even had the audacity to defend them, when Bakugou complained. Don’t you think it’s nice to be that in love? No, he didn’t. It’s annoying to be that in love as Kirishima put it. Could you even be in love after not even 24 hours of dating? Fat fucking chance.

“Get me some food, before I blast this entire mall down”, Bakugou grunted out, eying Kirishima dangerously. He wouldn’t actually do it, but if a threat got him some distraction, he wasn’t above using it.

“Sure thing”, Kirishima agreed, asking for preferences, before he went off. Deku accompanied him - not without making heart-eyes at Todoroki and only reluctantly letting go of his hand - and Bakugou didn’t even fight the urge to roll his eyes. Damn nerd being dramatic. Todoroki shot a knowing smile his way that only angered him more.

“What are you smirking about?”, Bakugou asked, very clearly hearing the annoyed undertone in his voice that failed to deter Todoroki. Like it always did.

“I don’t know. I just like the double date.”

“THE WHAT?”, Bakugou screamed, turning several heads towards them, none of which he cared about. What did the half-n-half-bastard just call this? He was sure he must have misheard. That, or Deku’s boyfriend had a very urgent death wish. One that Bakugou wouldn’t mind granting him, right now.

“Double date. Isn’t that what you call it, when two couples spend time with each other?” He had a death wish, Bakugou determined. There was no way he was really that dense. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Deku and Kirishima running towards them. They better be there fast, or there would be a real fight between him and that bastard.

“This is not a double date”, he gritted out, looking at Todoroki, daring him to disagree. Unfortunately, Kirishima was there faster than he expected, Deku on his heels. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

“Guys, what’s wrong, you’re making a scene”, Kirishima whisper-shouted when he arrived looking between them, as if he could get the answer from that. Instead of answering Kirishima - or focusing on his boyfriend like he had the entire goddamn afternoon - Todoroki decided to continue his chat with Bakugou.

"It feels like a double date to me", Todoroki said, ever the blunt one and Bakugou felt himself slowly losing it. Actually, not so slowly.

“What?”, Kirishima questioned, clearly caught off-guard.

“Shoto!”, Deku exclaimed at the same time, cheeks red and trying to get his boyfriend to pay attention to him again. Probably to dissolve the tension building between him and Bakugou. Bakugou for his part was ready to fight the bastard seriously.

“That’s not it at all! Bakugou and I aren’t dating”, Kirishima hurried to explain, putting himself between Bakugou and Todoroki while doing it, “We’re just friends. Nothing more to it.”

And that struck something deep within Bakugou. Something unpleasant, that he already hated, despite experiencing it for the first time. It was weird, nothing out of the ordinary happened - despite Todoroki’s absurd claim of course. Still he could feel his insides twisting, like someone plunged a knife in his gut. Instinctively he looked down to check, but saw nothing but his shirt. Weird.

He heard Deku and Kirishima try to explain the situation to Todoroki, but it was off. As if they were far away, instead of standing right in front of him. He caught a glance of Kirishima awkwardly rubbing his neck, while talking, Bakugou could see his mouth move, but he couldn’t make out the words. Like something was covering his ears. Kirishima smiled and his stomach twisted again.

He felt like he was getting sick.

“I’m out”, he said, not bothering whether or not they could hear him and then he swiftly moved. He needed air, to clear his head. And he needed to investigate their weird feeling in his stomach. That apparently correlated with Kirishima. Which could mean a lot of things.

It could mean anything, he tried to tell himself, while he made his way outside as fast as possible without his explosions accelerating him. He didn’t have the clear head to use them for that purpose right now.

It could mean anything, he told himself, when he heard Kirishima calling after him, a concerned undertone in his voice, that made Bakugou want to turn around. He wanted to snap, that he could take care of himself. He wanted to bathe in the knowledge that Kirishima cared for him.

It could mean anything, he insisted, when he finally made it outside and his feet automatically dragged him to the station. He took a deep breath, that helped exactly zero percent in the quest to clear his head and then he fiddled with his phone. He desperately needed the distraction.

It could mean anything , he reminded himself later that night, after Kirishima had dropped off his forgotten shopping bags and asked if he felt alright. Bakugou told a half-lie about an upset stomach and Kirishima offered to make tea. Which he declined, because he could take care of himself, thank you very much.

Kirishima had brought up some tea anyways, paired with some bread because it was safer not to risk upsetting his stomach anymore. Then he told Bakugou to just knock on his wall if he needed anything else, like the considerate idiot he was. He gave him a big smile before he left, one which twisted Bakugou’s stomach again, but it was also accompanied by a squeezing feeling in his chest this time. And Bakugou wasn’t an idiot, he knew these signs, when he saw them.

It could mean you have a crush, a traitorous voice in his mind whispered. Bakugou hated himself, for how much he actually considered the possibility.

#mha #bnha #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #shoto todoroki #midoriya #midoriya izuku #side tododeku

13 notes · View notes

kissesinthekitchen · 4 years

Text

Yours

Prompt: The one where a flirty waitress oversteps her boundaries and you want to remind Harry who he belongs to.

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Smut and fluff. Jealousy. Sex in public. Word count: 5,565. Rated mature.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Mine! In my head, this is sort of a sequel, but you don’t need to have read the first story to understand it. Jealous!reader was a lot of fun to write this time. I would really appreciate any love or feedback. Hope you like this! x

The guilty look on Harry’s face that greets you when you return from the bathroom is all you need to know.

“What?” you ask him, as you place your purse down and scoot back into the booth to be close to him again.

You spot the folded piece of paper sitting in front of him and swallow hard. You have a feeling you already know what it is. You pluck the piece of paper off the table and watch the digits of a phone number unfold slowly between your hands.

“Oh, this bitch-” you say, already trying to rise from the seat to find her face from between the other diners.

“Y/N,” Harry says, and his voice sounds like a gravely warning. His hand is gripping your wrist already. “Baby. Sit down.”

Your blood is boiling. You feel something akin to wanting to slap her and wanting to close the distance between you and Harry by straddling his lap right now, like some kind of animal holding down its mate - something, anything - to prove he’s yours. Something that says he’s mine.

-----

Harry always treats food like a peace offering.

Once, when you had a conference to attend out of state on your birthday, he paid for a buffet of Mexican food to be catered and sent to the hotel you and some of your friends from the department were staying at. Complete with a birthday cake, so you knew he was thinking of you. And another time, when he was in France working on something for Gucci and you couldn’t get off work to join him because of a bunch of parent-teacher meetings, he had an extravagant box of French macarons and pink tulips shipped overnight from Paris just so he could Facetime you from the same cafe later, so it could be like you were there together. When you’re upset, when you miss him, when you want to reconnect, it’s always either in bed or over a good meal.

Today, he had chosen a sunlit fancy Italian bistro with high ceilings, and green ivy plants and glass chandeliers clinging to each other for decoration. White and brick red speckled walls. Harry had squeezed your hand as a host led you to a booth towards the back of the restaurant.

The food they serve tastes as good as it looks. Crunchy bruschetta with sweet basil and tomatoes. Soft pillows of warm gnocchi served over roasted butternut squash and crispy fried herbs and salty pancetta. For entrees, you’d ordered a zesty lemon chicken piccata with capers, while Harry ordered a delicious eggplant parmesan. And together, you’d decided to share an order of linguine with clams - just because you couldn’t help yourself. Harry loves food, but more than that, he loves seeing how much you love food. If anyone asks, he’d probably say that your love language is trying new restaurants together.

And yet, while the food and the ambiance - there’s nothing like watching Harry’s face over candlelight- had been amazing, you’re sure this has still probably got to be one of the worst meals you’ve ever had.

This is confirmed later. If the guilty look on Harry’s face that greets you when you return from the bathroom is all you need to know.

“What?” you ask him, as you place your purse down and scoot back into the booth to be close to him again.

You spot the folded piece of paper sitting in front of him and swallow hard. You have a feeling you already know what it is.

Harry is resting his face in the palm of his hand. Loose curls framing his face, the top buttons of his black shirt unbuttoned beneath a soft velvet jacket of the same color. He looks relaxed, if not, a little amused.

You pluck the piece of paper off the table and watch the digits of a phone number unfold slowly between your hands.

“Oh, this bitch-” you say, already trying to rise from the seat to find her face from between the other diners.

“Y/N,” Harry says, and his voice sounds like a gravely warning. His hand is gripping your wrist already. “Baby. Sit down.”

It’s been more than an hour of this. The waitress offering Harry one sided conversation and squeezing his bicep and biting her lip and treating you like you’re fucking invisible. You feel like you already know too much about her.

Her name is Giselle because of course it is. Her sweeping blonde hair cascades down over her shoulders in a way that makes you feel a pang in your chest because - and you’ll never say this outloud but- she reminds you of a model, reminds you of so many of Harry’s exes. The women who used to rent space in his head and in his bed.The women he loved and wrote songs about before he met you.

You can’t help but flinch and grit your teeth every time she tries to make a move on Harry. She declares that she always wanted to study abroad in London. She saw One Direction three times when they were together. She licks her lips and asks Harry if he needs help finding places to go or stay while he’s in town, in a voice that makes you feel like she means her bed. And she frowns when Harry tries to bring you into the conversation, you’re like ninety-nine percent sure she scoffed when he said you were a teacher. The audacity of it all.

It’s not that you’re surprised. Harry is well, Harry. You’re used to sharing him with most of the world. He’s got the biggest heart you know, and he’s a huge flirt. Women are drawn to him like mosquitos are to blood. But you never thought you’d have to deal with another girl on the night you’re supposed to be celebrating your engagement. Maybe Harry was right to have tried to persuade you to stay home, in bed with takeout- that would have required much less sulking.

To his credit, Harry brushes her off, but he’s still entirely too polite. When she places a hand on his shoulder to give him the wine menu, he gives her a solemn nod. When she cups his hands in hers and throws a wink over her shoulder as she walks away, he politely wrenches his hand away and throws her back a look that is something caught between a frown and a smile as he meets your eyes.

“She really did it.”

“Darling-” he starts.

“She really fucking did it.” you say, appalled and irritated. Your blood is boiling. You feel something akin to wanting to slap her and wanting to close the distance between you and Harry by straddling his lap right now, like some kind of animal holding down its mate - something, anything - to prove he’s yours. Something that says he’s mine.

“You’re jealous,” Harry says.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you say quickly. The brightness in his eyes seems to grow at your quip, and you almost feel like slapping him now.

“Oh baby,” he says, his arm reaching around to cling to the part of the booth that is behind your neck.

“What can I do baby? How can I make it better?” he chuckles in your ear, when you cross your arms around your chest and let out a frustrated huff like an irritated child. “How can I turn this frown upside down?” His fingers graze the spot where your eyebrows have pinched together.

You wring the napkin in your hands. “Oh fuck off, Harry-“

“M’serious love,” but there is amusement in his face and you feel like elbowing him in the chest right now. “How do I show you that you don’t have any reason to be jealous?”

A moment passes, your nails are tapping impatiently against the throat of your wine glass before you hear Harry’s low voice tell you to look at him.

“Should I fuck you here?” he raises an eyebrow, his grip on you tightening. The broadness of his back moving so he’s blocking you from view. “Would that show you, sweetheart?”

“Stop making fun of me.”

He moves closer. “M’I’m not. Promise. Bit cute, actually. Seein’ you get all riled up.” He flashes you a heated look, the kind he usually saves for when you’re behind closed doors and his voice sounds choked. “Kind of makes my cock hard, if I’m bein’ honest. Seein’ you so jealous.”

“Harry,” you try to chastise him, but your voice just sounds just as broken. “Someone could see-” You know you aren’t the only one who spotted at least two or three photographers outside when you walked in here.

He makes a gesture of sweeping the room with his eyes. “Everyone’s eatin.’ No one’s payin’ attention to us. ‘Sides. Noticed you didn’t say no...”

“Baby-” you try to halt him as he reaches for you then. His eyes holding your wide gaze as his hand lifts the end of your dress.

“Tell me that if I slide my hand up, I won’t find you wet already?”

“Harry,” you croak, your voice shaking. Your fingers stop on his wrist and his eyes still.

A beat passes before you admit - “Harry, I’m soaked.”

Harry watches the way your nervous demeanor melts into a grin before he grabs you.

“Fuckin’ hell. Come here, you minx,” he closes the inch of distance between you to kiss you hard, his tongue swiping against yours. Your hands grasp his face before winding around his neck.

Your teeth dig into his jacket, in the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, to muffle your moaning when you feel him dip two of his fingers inside of you.

He groans. “Are you gonna come for me, honey? Fuck. Gonna come all over my fingers in front of everyone?” That makes you gasp, goosebumps rising on your skin as you listen dimly to the noise of silverware banging on plates and drinks being poured, the shuffle of the waiters walking, and music on the street as day fades into night in front of the windows.

“Harry-” you try to reason, even though your thighs are parting wider on their own accord and the grip you have on his hands is nothing but for show now.

“‘Am having my dessert, woman,” he chuckles against your cheek, his lips and tongue swiping against your earlobe. “Let me have my dessert, hmm?”

He’s knuckles deep into you, the rings on his hand brushing against your mound. But you’re still aching, still want more of him. Your nails dig into his shoulder as you beg, “Harry. I want to be full. Make me full, Harry. “

“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you by adding a third finger, and swiping his thumb back and forth against your clit. And it feels so good, your back arches closer into his touch and your thighs clench.

“God-” you gasp at feeling him so deep. You’re trying to control your breathing, but your cunt feels so tight around the stretch of his fingers. You feel dizzy with how much you want him and need him and how much he’s giving you.

“Feels good, yeah? Ya gonna come already, lovie?” He smiles, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight. Feels just like when you’re grippin’ my cock when I’m inside of you, huh? You want to come so bad. You look so beautiful.”

“Don’t stop Harry. Don’t stop. I’m almost-Fuck-”

“I can feel you,” he says. “Beg me, Y/N. Then I’ll let you. I’ll make you come. I promise. Just need to hear you say it. Use your words, baby.”

“Oh fuck you-“ you tell him, your voice caught in a crossroads between amusement and want.

He smiles. “You will. But I need you to come for me first.”

He watches as you writhe beside him and you stare back through heavy lidded eyes as he works you towards your orgasm. He looks beautiful like this, really, his soft mouth wet and open. The hint of a smile on his lips. And the green of his eyes looking all the more dark and endless and intense under candlelight. Strands of his hair are shaking with the force of his arm as his hand moves beneath the skirt of your dress.

And then it happens - you’re babbling. Half mad with the need to come. “Harry. Please Harry. Please. Please. Please let me come.”

You can feel the sweat on the back of your thighs. Harry’s grip is so tight that your skirt is almost bunched up around your hips where you’re grateful the table is covering you from view. And your legs are shaking, hips bucking up to meet Harry’s fingers and shifting back against the leather of your seat.

“Gettin’ my fingers so wet, love. Fuckin’ me so well. Can you come now baby? Come so I can fuck you all good and proper like.”

“Harry-” you sigh. Your eyebrows knitting together, your lips trying to form a warning. You squeeze the shoulder of his velvet jacket with your fingers before your eyes roll back. “Fuck. I’m coming-I’m coming-”

To keep you from screaming, he smothers your lips with his mouth. You kiss him - all lips and tongue and teeth- before burying your head in his neck, exhausted, muffling your noises with his skin.

It hits you hard again and again, and he keeps fucking you through it. His fingers relentlessly hitting that soft, tender part inside of you that makes you want to scream every time he touches it with his fingers or his tongue or his cock. Dimly, you’re aware of him talking you through it too - telling you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how amazing, in between his own gasps of “Come on. Yeah. Yeah. Yes-” It’s as if Harry needs to see you come as much as you need to feel it.

You let out a frustrated groan when he finally slips his fingers from your cunt, frowning at feeling so empty without him. But you’re grateful when he takes pity on you by kissing you.

“Did so well for me, pet,” he says. He tenderly presses his fingers - that are not covered in your wetness- to pull your cheek close so he can press his mouth against your forehead where you’re sweaty and strands of your hair have escaped. You feel like jelly, which only amuses Harry even more. “Mmm.”

“Harry.” You say, slapping his forearm lightly as he makes a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, peering up at you from his eyelashes so you can watch him lap the taste of you from his hand. Somehow the sight feels even dirtier than having just had his hand between your thighs or coming in public. You try to fix an annoyed or stern look on your face but it only makes Harry laugh harder.

“Did you get to pick dessert, Mr. Styles?”

“Oh shit-”

His arm is gripping the back of your seat as he turns around to face Giselle.

“I’m sorry?” she says.

“We’ll pass on that,” Harry says, glancing down to the menu on the table. “My fiancé seems to be feeling a little ill. Where’s the nearest loo again?”

The misstep seems to catch her off guard and it makes you laugh from your place against the seat, Harry’s large hand smoothing back and forth on your knee as if to tell you down, girl.

She clears her throat, an annoyed look passing her eyes. “Down the hall. Last door on the right.”

You’re both laughing as you all but run to the bathroom, Harry’s front colliding with your back. His long arms winding around your waist as both of your hands push the door open. He kisses you hard as you try to untangle yourself an inch to lock the door.

It’s raw and filthy like this. Harry kneeling on the floor for a second. Pushing down your underwear. Grasping the end of your dress and pulling it tight around your hips, long enough to spread you back against him and stare at where you are still swollen and wet and aching. Clenching around nothing there.

“Oh baby,” he says, a hint of real concern in his throat. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

You twist back to hold him by his hair. He grips you by the hips and then cranes his neck forward to kiss and lick between your thighs, tongue gliding between the folds of your pussy lips in a way that has your back bowing it feels so good.

“Honey,” you whine. “Harry, please-”

He chuckles, leaning back to press a soft bite to the cheek of your ass before standing to his full height again. You turn long enough in his embrace to reach for his pants, unbuckling his belt and zipper without breaking eye contact. His arms are on the wall behind you, caging you in and he’s smirking. You know how much he loves this, having you undress him.

When your hands are done, he looms forward, his body pressing you back against the sink. “Just wanted to give you a kiss.” He laughs. “Turn around for me, love. S’gonna be hard and fast. Just like you need it. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” you keen.

You shiver as you feel and hear him take himself into his hand. He spits on his cock and then there’s the wet, telltale push and pull sound of him jerking himself off. It gives you goosebumps. You widen your stance, trying to balance yourself on your heels, and he presses a soothing hand against your back to keep you still as he slides inside of you in one smooth movement.

God. You want to scream with relief. He feels so much deeper from this angle. Heavier. Bigger. Like you can feel him in your belly.

One of Harry’s hands clings to yours on the sink, the heavy rings on his fingers gripping your knuckles as he bends you over. His cock feels heavy, and you feel impossibly full at this angle.

“Ya with me love? Hmm?” He kisses the naked skin of your back and throat where your dress is exposed and you grin, meeting his face in the mirror.

“Always.”

“Fuck me back, baby.” Harry begs you, his voice needy and raw. “Fuck me back.”

His hands don’t stop, incessantly pushing into grope your breasts. His mouth hot and wet on your neck.

Your eyes flutter close, you love how low and gritty his voice gets when he’s this deep. It feels good. Feels like something is touching you from the inside out, god, being with him is so consuming. You want him. All of him. All the time. Everywhere.

“Feels so good, Harry. Feel so full.” You whimper as you grind back against him, your skin singing with relief at finally feeling sated.

When you finally open your eyes you moan again at the sight of Harry reflected back on the glass in front of you. His hair is cascading down to fall in front of his eyes, trembling with the movement of his thrusts. And he’s leaving indents in your skin, bruises you’ll marvel at in the morning. But the best part is watching him fuck you.

He looks beautiful. Sliding his tongue over his mouth, biting into his lips as he loses himself in staring at the junction between your pussy and his cock. Watching himself disappear inside of you with each stutter and slide of his hips. When he looks up to find you staring at him, he smiles so wide and soft that it makes you tighten around him.

“Harry,” you whimper. You want to say more but your words feel caught in your throat. He feels so good.

“M’close, angel. You had me so hard at the dinning table. I wanna come so bad.”

He gathers you closer and sneaks his fingers into the space between your thighs and the sink and starts rubbing your swollen clit with two fingers. Your elbows almost lose their footing on the counter when he touches you, the sensation makes you feel like your knees could buckle.

“Oh my god, Harry-”

“You gonna come for me baby? Gonna coat my cock?”

“Yes-yes. God. Please-”

Your scalp stings where he reaches up to pull a handful of your hair. Your spine has no choice but to arch back. It hurts in the best kind of way.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard. But you have to stay with me, okay? Listen to me, love. You’re the only one I want.” You grit your teeth on a particularly hard thrust, his hips seeming to punctuate every word of his promise. “I love you. I love you. I only want to make you come. I only want you.”

“Me too, Harry. Me too,” you squeeze his hand, reaching back to grip his hair and meet his open mouth with your lips and kiss him over your shoulder. You clench your eyes shut as you fuck back against him, meeting the slide of his thrusts with the shaking of your hips. Your throat feels heavy at his words, but your brain feels like it’s scattering. You’re so close-

“You’re shaking,” he laughs, his voice heavy with astonishment. You can only hum in response. His lips press against your forehead quickly. “Give it to me, love. Give me fuckin’ everything. I’ll catch you. I need you to come for me. Please fuckin’ come for me.”

Your body obeys him before your mind can think, you’re so weak for him. Your shoulders are shaking so hard from the effort of trying not to scream his name. It burns in your throat and on your tongue, and you try to bite your lip through it.

“Harry,” you gasp. “Harry-”

He grips your face tenderly as if he can recognize how torn you feel. “That’s it, baby. My good girl. Did so well for me, angel. Gonna make me come too. Shit-”

“Yes-yes. Come Harry. God. Come. I want to feel it-”

And that always does it, your begging him. He can never resist the ache in your voice. He moans into your mouth and he’s uttering your name as he lets himself let go. You talk him through it too, telling him how much you love him, how he looks so good when he comes, how you wanna feel it deep. His cock is pulsing when he’s done, and his mouth reluctantly relents, letting go of your lips as his neck rolls back and he tries to catch his breath. His release settling inside of you in a way that makes you feel soothed. Harry feels dizzy, almost delirious with relief.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he laughs, sinking his weight onto you. You don’t mind though, loving the press of him against your back. He kisses a path up your spine. “I’m so glad I get to marry you. Get to fuck you for the rest of my life.”

You giggle from beneath his chin. “And here I thought you liked me for my brain,” you tease.

“I do,” he says. “Love your brain. And your laugh. And your cunt. All your parts, really.”

Because there’s no time to linger in the afterglow when you’re worried about someone knocking on the door, or a line forming outside, and you still have to go pay the bill for dinner - you laugh, but reluctantly squeeze Harry’s arm and kiss the side of his face.

“Babe-” you say softly.

“Mmm, okay,” he says.

He groans as he grasps your back, and just like in the dining room, he laughs softly when you frown as he pulls out of you. A reluctant whimper grazing your lips as your bodies separate. You take a moment to both pull yourselves together. Harry wetting towels and wadding up your underwear to get you cleaned up.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he laughs at the twisted look on your face when he throws them in the trash bin.

“You better,” you joke as you try to fish your compact out of your purse.

Harry leans back to watch you, he thinks it’s one of his favorite things to do. Watching you get ready for work in the morning, putting on perfume and pulling on your stockings. The way you always stop to give him a kiss before you leave, no matter how full your arms are of bags and lunch and coffee, art projects and homework. Or watching you get undressed and ready for bed at night, taking off your makeup and putting your lotion and nightgowns on. The way you smell after you come into your bedroom after a long bath. The way you never go to sleep without nudging him for a kiss good night, and the way your mouth always lingers before he leaves for a trip that will take him far away from you.

He’s caged you in again, one arm on the mirror watching you try to fix the smudged mess your mouth has become from his lips.

“Did you mean what you said?” you ask him. You press a tender kiss to the cross on his hand and his wrist. He’s kind enough to indulge you-

“‘Course I do. Would hang up the fuckin’ moon for ya, I love you so much. I wanna give you my last name. Wanna give you everything.”

You turns in his embrace so your back is to the mirror and you can look him in the eyes. He cups the back of your neck with his long fingers and cradles your face with the other. And you grasp both of his hands with yours and let him kiss you once, twice, again with his teeth softly grazing your bottom lip.

“I’m yours,” he promises. “I only ever want ‘ta be yours.”

Your eyes soften. He always manages to hit you out of nowhere with sweeping declarations like this and it makes you feel like you’d be crying, if you were somewhere with more time and not just hiding in the bathroom of a restaurant, having just had a sneaky -albeit mindblowingly amazing - fuck.

“You’re mine and I’m yours, Harry,” you vow. “Mine and yours."

He grins. “S’what I’ve been trying to tell you! God. Stubborn.”

He wraps both of his arms around your middle and you settle back against him, affording a second to laugh. His lips feel warm against your temple, and wet against your neck.

“Gotta admit though. I love when you get territorial. Gettin’ all possessive, love. Bit of a turn on. Should see you jealous more often.” You watch him as he pulls the straps of your dress back up and wraps himself around you like a shadow. His face resting in your neck, pressing soft sweet, wet kisses.

“Yeah? We could flip it. Might not be so fun when Chad at work asks me to go out for dinner or a drink when my boyfriend is out of town.”

“Hey. Hey. Fiancé,” he emphasizes with his fingers on your chin. His eyebrows wrinkling together for good measure as he flutters his fingers in front of your face. “Wait. Has he really?”

Harry meets your gaze in the mirror as you nod and explain. “So many times while you were on tour. Always knew -somehow- when you were out of town. Think he might have had your schedule memorized more than me.”

Harry groans. “Ugh. Twat. Fuckin’ Chad.”

“Might have to assert your dominance, Harold. Gotta show him who I belong to.” You laugh.

“Yeah? How would I do that?” Harry plays along. “Should I show up at school and fuck you in your office again? On your desk? In your classroom?”

You giggle, but feel your core flutter at the thought. Last time he did that, you couldn’t look at your desk for weeks.

You leave Harry’s offer open ended as you kiss his cheeks, his lips, his neck. He grunts when you press your mouth to his Adam’s Apple and dip your tongue and teeth into the indention in his throat that makes him melt. His favorite spot.

You reach up to wrap your arms around Harry’s neck, brushing his hair from his cheekbones. He’s growing it out long again and he looks beautiful. Your fingers are fisted around the cross on his neck and the collar of his shirt, keeping it open. And when you look up at him, his lips are beautifully puffy and blistered, a few shades short of the lipstick you are wearing.

He stares down at you, smirking and half serious.

“Want her to see the mark you left on my neck, huh?”

“Looks like a vampire had her way with your throat, babe,” you affirm, cupping his neck, your voice filled with pride at your own dirty work.

He’s beaming when you look at him. “Photographer outside will probably get a shot of you lookin’ freshly fucked too.”

“Harry.” You jab him in the ribs, pretending to be scandalized, yelping when he squeezes your hip in retaliation.

You finish shimmying your dress back down your legs. Not bothering to tend to the mess your hair has become from when Harry fisted his fingers in it. Harry gives you a coy and knowing smile as he pulls the lock and door open, positive that you want to wear it like some sort of badge of honor, just like he wants to wear the marks on his neck.

When you get back to the table, the agony you felt in your chest earlier has all but disappeared - but not the need to show that Harry is yours. Harry can recognize it too, especially when you ask him to leave you alone with the check and wait by the entrance.

“Baby,” his voice narrows, but his lips are lifting at the edges.

“I’ll be nice. Go.”

You see Giselle catch him on the way to the door, her eyes widening when she takes in Harry’s open shirt. Your heart swells when you see him walk past her without as much as a nod.

She catches you watching and you can see she’s trying to bury the deflated look on her face as she walks towards you, taking in your disheveled hair, your smudged lipstick.

“Is Harry okay?”

“Harry’s fine, Giselle. In fact, he’s engaged,” you muse. “I don’t think your boss would find it very professional if they found out you were trying to slip guests your phone number while you were on the clock.”

You give her your best and broadest smile as you push the bill and cash towards her - plus a $200 tip, with her phone number facing up. You know she doesn’t miss it either, the gleam of your antique engagement ring catching and sparkling in the candlelight. It’s a vintage five carat showstopper, you know that’s why Harry picked it. It stops anyone who sees it. And you can tell because Giselle looks mortified, like she’s choking on her own confidence as she stares at it.

She turns red. “I-I’m so sorry-” she stammers.

“Next time, make sure he’s single first. Yeah? Or maybe stop talking long enough to realize whether or not he wants you too before you humiliate yourself. Again.” You narrow your eyes and tilt your head. “Have a good night, Giselle.”

You don’t miss the way she shrinks back a little when you get up and walk past her.

When you find him again, Harry is staring at you, his eyebrows raised. He throws you a cautious but amused, beautiful smirk as you approach.

“There’s my misses,” he says. He extends his hand for you when you get close and you take it. “Did you get into a fight, stubborn?”

You shake your head. “No. I left her a big tip. Decided to kill her with some kindness.”

Harry’s eyes are fond as they look at you. “That’s my girl,” he says.

He laughs as you draw up on your toes to pull him down with both arms for a kiss, the hand with your engagement ring fisting in his hair.

He presses both hands into the middle of spine and kisses you back. When you draw apart you don’t have to look through the window to see some cameras trying to disappear out of view. He knows what you’re doing. You’re not usually like this and neither is Harry, but you’re grateful he allows you this scene - some part of you is surprisingly thrilled at the idea of this photo. At least a few days worth of articles with you captured in front of this restaurant. Your name alongside Harry’s. Not some model, not some singer, just regular old you- who gets to share his bed and his house and -someday soon- his name.

“Baby,” he whines into your ear. “That looked a bit...intense.”

“Did it?” you play along.

“She looked scared shitless, love.” he admits. “Looked like you were so close to hittin’ her.”

“I felt like I could,” you laugh. “Had to show her not to mess with what’s mine. Think your ring kind of shut her up.”

He smirks, looking down to where your hands are joined. His thumb running over the diamond on your finger.

“Mmm, got me kind of...stirred up watching.”

Your eyes widen. “Harry! Jesus. You could get hard at the drop of a hat, I swear.”

“You sayin’ it like it’s a bad thing?”

“Harry-” His hands lose themselves in your hair again. You react by tilting your neck back so he can lean down to kiss you, with both of his hands on your face, effectively shutting you up.

“I love you,” he huffs. “But can we please get the hell out of here. Really want to go home and make really loud love to my fiancé..”

“Do you now?” you tease against his jaw.

“Reckon we can be loud enough that that knob Chad hears us from his house?” His eyes flash up, and he grins at you as you laugh harder. “Just wanna be yours.”

And how can you argue with that? You laugh as he tugs you under your arm, and you peer over his shoulder to wave and flash Giselle your ring - savoring the bewildered and embarrassed look on her face one last time- before you and Harry both disappear into the night.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I have another story based on “Adore You” that I hope to post by the end of the week. Please feel free to follow me to keep up with more stories. I’d love to have you here. <3 Or let me know what you think!

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fanfic #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x ofc #harry styles writing #yours #my writing

609 notes · View notes

harryandmolly · 4 years

Text

fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *6*

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, not all fluff is fluffy (ya feel?), a chapter pic that walked into my hands and curled up and fell asleep

wc: 3.7k

---------

Lilly’s eyes slide shut. There’s no fighting it now, not when he’s kissing her throat like this, mouthing at her like a melting ice cream cone.

She kind of feels like one. It’s summer in Southern California, even though it’s May. They’ve started sharing Lilly’s balcony bedroom and can’t agree on whether to keep the doors open when they sleep. She still gets weird about the bird that flew in and woke them up that one time by shitting on her yoga mat. He likes the nature sounds, though. It reminds him of Pickering even more than his place in Toronto does. They’re not actually secluded out here but it feels like it sometimes, in a nice way.

It also doesn’t help, he supposes, that every mosquito in LA county finds a way to get under their sheets and bite her, and only her, when they leave a door or window open for airflow. He tells her it’s because she’s so sweet. She swears at him.

She won the battle last night, so the doors and windows are closed. The air is stagnant. In such an old house, the central air isn’t great. They’ve kicked all their sheets off and are down to their underwear. He likes the way her skin tastes a little salty-sweaty.

He’s not after anything other than holding her. In the few weeks since they’ve started back up again, their sex life has been borderline out of control. Shawn is chalking it up to lost time.

He likes the way she sighs and slips her fingers into his hair like she’s resigned to his attentions. He keeps his hands north of her underwear, conscious of not making her feel like she’s merely an outlet. He’s just… happy. He could count on two hands the number of nights they got to sleep in the same bed before they broke up. This is the height of luxury for him.

Shawn murmurs contentedly into the column of her neck. “Your skin’s so soft,” he whispers, skimming his nose beneath her jaw, “How do you get it like that?”

She giggles. He’s on fire, pleasantly burning.

“You saw my truckload of sheet masks. They’re not for decoration.”

Shawn pulls his head up, flipping his curls out of his eyes. He overdoes it, still used to having a lot more hair than he does now. She smooths it away for him.

“I’ve been bad lately,” he confesses, wrinkling his nose, “I ran out of the stuff Anna gave me like a month ago. And I do sheet masks a lot more when we’re touring, being on the bus and shit.”

Lilly looks crestfallen. Shawn lifts his brows in question.

“The only reason I’m in bed with you is to steal your outrageously expensive skincare.”

Her convincingly innocent expression goes impish so fast he’s glad he didn’t blink. He grunts and skims his teeth against her jaw as he laughs, swatting at her ass.

“Are you gonna share your masks or what?”

Ten minutes later, he has one of her terrycloth headbands pushing his hair back and Lilly almost sitting on his bare chest as she carefully presses the slick sheet to his face. She taught him how to make little cuts along the forehead, eyes, lips and jaw to fit it to your face best. It’s still too small for his giant head, but Lilly’s determined.

“There,” she declares, scooting back over his ribs. Shawn lifts his hands to her thighs, rubbing them softly as he watches her apply her own, expertly snipping the center of her nose flap to fold it up and out of the way of her piercing.

Shawn shuts his eyes and lulls himself further into this intoxicating calm with her.

“What’re these supposed to do?”

“Brighten, boost collagen, support cell turnover.”

Lilly flops on her back beside him. She nestles into the sheets and groans like they haven’t been lying in bed all day. She sneaks her fingers in between his. His nose twitches as he tries not to smile and fuck up his mask.

He rubs his thumb against the back of her hand.

Her whisper is quiet, strained. “Stop making me smile, you’re going to fuck up my mask.”

It’s Shawn’s turn to make breakfast. So, eggs.

Lilly swings her legs against the counter as she sits across from him, curating a playlist because you know when you just wake up and it’s a Beach Boys morning?

Apparently it’s a Beach Boys morning. Shawn has no arguments. Even if he did, he’s too distracted to voice them. It’s arriving today, all of it. As much of a professional recording studio as can be packaged and very carefully, very expensively delivered to their rental. Lilly’s been trying to keep him engaged since they woke up, they even braved taking their first masked walk around their neighborhood. Apart from the possibility of a rogue and well-hidden phone camera, he thinks they made it out without being spotted. As far as Shawn can tell, the internet thinks he’s in Toronto. He’s comfortable keeping it that way.

Turns out even aside from worming back into Lilly’s life, LA was a good idea. His team came up with a whole plan to keep him busy and keep him recording, but it would’ve been much harder to execute if he were a country away. He has Zoom sessions with producers lined up and instruments being tracked at other home studios, all the ones he can’t do himself, anyway. Now he just needs the equipment.

Shawn is folding spinach, mushrooms and onion into what he hopes is omelet-shaped eggs, kind of, sort of, when his phone buzzes hard against the granite.

“Ohmygodthey’rehere,” he hisses, barreling toward the front door without shutting off the burners, leaving Lilly swearing at him in his wake.

The proceeding half hour of large, larger, and largest Pelican cases being hauled into the living room is torture. It’s like if you had to watch your mum and dad bring all the presents from downstairs and stack them strategically under the Christmas tree before you got to rip them open. Once the delivery guys leave, they spend another half hour wiping down every square inch of the case surfaces with Clorox and taking stock of the equipment.

Shawn looks to Lilly, pained and squirming. She snorts.

“Go for it, champ.”

Shawn descends, Lilly close behind him. In another two hours, they spread everything out on the floor in relative chaos and exhaust themselves to the point of near panic.

Shawn scrapes his hands over his face and into his hair, grabbing at it to ground himself. “We just… I dunno, we gotta call Andrew or Teddy or somebody, we can’t do this alone, it’s too much.”

Lilly sits on her knees in front of a case full of long polls on stands that he can’t remember the name of. She makes a sour face and her high ponytail bobs against her cheek. His stupid sentimental heart swells.

“I hate it when you make me the positive one. Shawn, it’s fine. We need food, we need coffee, we need a strategy, this is fine. This is fine!” Her pitch rises noticeably at the end of her short pep talk. It’s distractingly anxious.

Shawn looks around hopelessly at the thousands of dollars of equipment strewn across the living room floor until she drags him by the wrist into the kitchen. They pass on their now sad and definitely burnt omelet and order from Eggslut, promising each other that they’ll have Sweetgreen salads for dinner.

Back on the floor, barefoot and hungry, they toss ideas back and forth between bites of brioche egg sandwiches. By the time the tater tots are gone, Shawn is off the ledge, coaxed slowly and with care (and carbs).

The plan is, essentially, a giant blanket fort. Since the living room is at the back of the house away from the street and the pool, it’s nice and quiet, but they need absolute silence for a clean track. They scout out a cozy corner, working around the baby grand, with enough room for the mics and recording equipment, plus a couch for Lilly if she promises to be very quiet.

“Ok so if we get the C-stands up around eight and a half feet, that should clear the mics,” Lilly declares, dragging sound-deadening furni pads out of another case.

Shawn’s head falls back. “C-stand. That’s it. Shit, I couldn’t come up with it earlier.”

Lilly winks and begins sorting them by size. Shawn turns to a case of C-stands and plucks one from a folded bunch. Within 25 seconds, he’s struggling, kicking at the legs and turning dials that don’t seem to do shit.

Lilly’s little hands appear in his view as she gently handles it, demonstrating the way the legs swing out and the stand rises.

“You’re so handy,” he praises teasingly, slipping his fingers between hers. She willingly releases the stand and slides around behind him, shrugging her arms around his stomach. He tries to peer at her over his shoulder and wonders if she can feel the way his pulse increases.

“Sorry, did you say ‘handsy?’” she murmurs, pushing her fingers beneath the elastic of his gym shorts. He holds his breath, muscles tensing everywhere. Just as soon as she’s there, suddenly she’s gone, nibbling away at his shoulder blade as he whistles an exhale through his nose. He chuckles and turns in her arms.

“Guess I gotta be the brains and the braun on this one,” Lilly says, lifting onto her toes and pecking his lips. Shawn grunts, looking to hold her a little longer, but she squirms away.

Lilly got her Beach Boys after all, on the house speakers at an almost egregious volume. They continue working, stringing up furni pad “walls” on C-stands and gathering extra throws and rugs from around the house. The problem is the fort’s ceiling.

“We can suspend them from the chandelier, as long as some of the weight still rests on the walls. But how do we get up there, can you reach? No. Wait-- no, no, is there a ladder? There has to be a ladder,” Lilly rants, turning circles beneath the chandelier until Shawn intervenes, catching at her arm.

“I’m your ladder.”

Lilly blinks, then squints. “Terrible plan.”

Shawn balks. “Great plan!”

“What, you’re gonna lift me? For minutes on end? It’s going to take a while.”

“You can sit on my shoulders. And that way I can keep you company,” he quips with a crooked grin. He likes the way his smile makes her smile.

“Shawn, no, you haven’t even been working out recently, and--”

Her realization of her own mistake takes over her face. Now that she’s made it sound like she doesn’t think he’s capable, he won’t leave it alone until she lets him prove it. She sighs.

“I can do it, Lill, you’re really not heavy. C’mon, I can always put you down. It’ll be fine!”

She cringes. “Famous last words, Mendes.”

Shawn corrals her with confidence and kisses until she’s sitting on the edge of the bar counter with her legs out as Shawn crawls beneath her and into position with her thighs on his shoulders.

“Three… two… one…,” Shawn grunts, ignoring Lilly’s persistent “oh god, oh god” muttering under her breath. He uses his lower body to press himself to stand. Lilly squeaks a little, clenching her legs tightly against his chest. He squeezes his hands on her quads with a little laugh.

“Told you. Did you seriously think I was gonna fuckin’ drop you?”

“I didn’t think you’d mean to,” Lilly mutters. She tugs once at his curls and presses into him again, giving him a feel for just what all those tree poses were for.

“Giddy up.”

One step at a time, they waddle beneath the chandelier. Lilly hooks up the loops she ingeniously sewed onto the furni pads to heavy duty Command hooks and sticks them up to the ceiling, one by one. The final pad goes up and the world goes dark.

“Oh my god,” Lilly breathes.

Shawn exhales. “We fuckin’ did it.”

Lilly lets out a squeak and smacks at his chest. “High five me!”

“I can’t see you!”

With a final uncoordinated scramble, Shawn kneels and Lilly stumbles off his shoulders. They fall into a puddle, enclosed in the quiet darkness.

“Thank you,” Shawn whispers, reaching out to touch whatever he finds. It happens to be her belly, where her shirt has ridden up. Her abs contract. He fights a goofy smile, even in the dark.

“I knew it was important to you.”

Shawn seeks her out. He can’t help it. He wriggles around until his head replaces his hand on her stomach, and links their fingers.

“I need to ask you something.”

Shawn looks up where her face should be in the blackness. He nods.

“How… many songs are about her? I just need to prepare myself for it.”

Shawn wishes he could see her face now. He thinks her voice is steady, but he can always read her face better. Whatever it is, it’s always in those big blue eyes.

“A lot,” he says honestly, “I went on a writing spree when we first got together. It was confusing, I think, because there was so fuckin’ much going on in my head. But writing about her helped… I dunno. I think it distracted me from how I still felt about you.”

He feels her swallow, but doesn’t hear it. The panic starts to rise, pushing him to keep talking.

“I don’t know what recording these songs is gonna feel like, Lill. I’m scared there isn’t gonna be any life in them. Because I don’t feel those things anymore. That’s why I left.”

Lilly sits up. Shawn’s head slides into her lap. His pulse is in his ears. He’s sick to his stomach.

“How do I know you didn’t say the same fucking thing to her when you left me?”

There’s no anger in it, just hurt. Shawn sits up, shaking his head, even though he knows she can’t see.

“Lill, please, I’m sorry. I really am. Fuck, I know it’s… it’s shitty. I can’t pretend to get it from your side. And I really don’t want to hurt you again.”

Her huff is aggravated, but she’s not running. He clings to hope.

“Well, it’s gonna hurt, Shawn, there’s kind of no getting around that if 90% of your album is ‘I finally got the girl’ songs.”

Shawn knows very little about life in general, he recognizes that, but he knows better than to argue the percentage right now. Tentatively, he reaches for her, finding her knee.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know,” she snaps. Shawn draws his hand back and feels his chest tighten. It can’t end like this. Not after everything.

“Ok,” Shawn breathes, nodding to himself, ready to collect his shredded dignity and search on his hands and knees for the flap of furni pad they designed as the door.

Her hand stops him. She grabs at him clumsily in the dark, then finds his wrist. She can probably feel his pulse in her small fingers.

“You know I’d never, ever tell you not to record a song, right?”

There’s a desperation he barely recognizes in her voice. He nods until he remembers she can’t see him.

“Yeah, Lill.”

“Because I wouldn’t. I’d never try to take something like that away from you. I know you would sooner die before putting anything on a record that you don’t think belongs there, and it belongs there because you love it. I’d never want you to put that aside for my feelings.”

“I know,” he whispers tenderly, smoothing the pad of his thumb across the tendons of her wrist.

“Ok,” she says, creeping back toward calm, “Good. Then… do what you’re gonna do. Make the best fucking record. And we’ll figure it out.”

Shawn ducks his head. He knows ‘lucky’ doesn’t begin to cover it. But now when he writes, he works on finding a bunch of other words to help him get there.

Lilly exhales through her nose. It’s quiet for a few long seconds. Until--

“I’m so getting producer credit for all this shit, by the way.”

“This was a bad idea,” Lilly groans.

Shawn looks over at her. She’s shrugged into a ball in the front seat of his rented Range Rover. Her knees cover her masked face. Her eyes dart anxiously.

“Stop doing that,” he sighs, reaching over with one hand and pushing at her knees, “The windows are tinted. You’re wearing a mask. I’m wearing a mask. It’s fine, honey.”

Even with half her face covered, Lilly looks skeptical. He leaves his hand on her thigh and rubs circles with his thumb while they sail down an uncharacteristically empty Mulholland Drive.

Shawn was desperate to get out. They’ve barely left the property in six weeks, an unignorable reminder of their privilege. But while Lilly would very happily never see a human again as long as she lives, Shawn is a Leo.

“Yeah, and?” he prods after she reminds him of his astrological sign over post-workout protein smoothies.

“And that means you are not a happy camper without a spotlight. In your case both literally and metaphorically.”

He laughed and kissed her. She let him.

But the drive was a tough sell. Even though he promised they wouldn’t get out anywhere, even in a socially distant setting, it felt like a risk to Lilly. It took the reassurance of the windows and the masks to even get her in the car.

Now that they’re here, Shawn feels something heavy in his chest dissolving that he didn’t realize was there. He sings along to Spotify and drums on the steering wheel and points out crazy houses as they wind through various canyon neighborhoods, Lilly’s favorite.

“It took what, two days for pap photos to show up of you guys walking around her neighborhood in Miami? That was Miami, Shawn. How do you not expect paps to be stalking every tinted-out Range Rover within 5 square miles of Beverly Hills?”

Shawn’s thumb stills. He tilts his head back and forth at a stop sign, stretching his neck.

“We called them.”

Lilly looks up at him. “Hmm?”

“The paps in Miami, they were there because our teams called them.”

Lilly’s brows pull together. “But there were pictures almost everyday. For like, a week.”

“Yeah,” Shawn sighs, “I know.”

Lilly is silent and contemplative. He starts up the soothing rubbing of her skin, even if it’s more effective for him than for her.

“It’s just that if they do happen to find us, that’s it. We’re officially on the radar. Everyone will know you broke up, everyone will know we’ve been staying together. For weeks, Shawn. It sends a very clear message.”

They roll to a stop at a light somewhere near Outpost Estates. Shawn tugs his mask down below his chin.

“I’m prepared for all of that. It’s ok if you’re not, if you’d rather keep it quieter this time, I totally get it. Things are… different now. But you’re not my dirty little secret, Lills, you never have been and I will never let you feel that way.”

Lilly cedes, dropping her own mask and wetting her lips. “I don’t want to… hide. I just want you to be prepared for the fact that a lot more people are going to be mad at you for leaving her for me than were mad when you left me for her.”

The light turns green. Shawn bites his lip and presses the gas. They drive in silence for a while.

“Did I scare you?”

Shawn startles a little at the sound of her voice and cracks a little smile.

“No, baby, you didn’t. I mean, I know the deal by now. It’s just… so fucking unfair to you.”

Shawn finds a quiet little cul de sac that backs up against a wooded area. He parks and turns the music down.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Lilly pleads only half playfully, “I know fandom at least as well as you do. It’s ok.”

“But how?” Shawn insists, squinting at her, “How is it ok? The things people say to you, and you’re not even a public figure. How does it not get to you?”

Lilly smiles sadly. “It does sometimes. But I decided a long time ago that you were worth it.”

The guilt weighs heavily all over again. Leaving her feels unfathomable now, like it wasn’t a year ago that he did it, but ten years. That was a stupid kid version of him then. He knows so much better now. He hopes he does.

Shawn links their fingers and draws Lilly’s knuckles to his lips. He watches her over the top of them. She sinks happily into her seat and goes a lovely shade of pink.

“If I wrote down how many times I day I think about how fucking crazy I am about you, the world would be out of paper.”

Lilly cackles, tossing her head back. Her laugh makes him laugh.

“What?” he giggles.

“What a line!” she crows.

“That wasn’t a line, that was from my deep and lyrical heart!”

“That was the line-iest line that has ever lined. Shawn Mendes, you smooth motherfucker.”

He rolls his eyes but can’t stop grinning. “Shut up. I’m never saying anything nice to you again.”

“Mmm, you can’t help it, honey, you’re Canadian.”

He huffs an exhale through his nose and closes his eyes. Her thumb is soft and warm against the back of his hand.

“And apparently really fucking crazy about me,” she adds softly. He tilts his head and opens one eye to look at her.

“I am. Can’t remember why though.”

Lilly’s lips pucker as she considers a thought. Shawn’s legs tingle.

“Put the seats down in the back and I’ll happily remind you.”

Shawn feels his eyes go comically wide. Lilly’s lips spread into a Cheshire cat smile.

“You’re kidding. You’re not kidding?”

“I’m actually super not kidding.”

He hears her laughing as he leaps out of the car and crawls into the trunk to put the seats down. She doesn’t stop until the trunk closes behind them and his lips are on her earlobe.

-----------

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @shawnsmusical @paigeasourous @tell-me-when-ur-ready @softmendesss @searchingunderthestars @buggy-blogs @mendesficsxbombay @siennarossi @lostinshawnsmemory @umbreakablesoul @sleepybesson @shawnsheaven @poseshawn @shaawnie @shawn-youth @graysonmendes

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes angst #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes drabble

113 notes · View notes

castleofclouds · 3 years

Text

7 Days A Week.

Genre ; Fluff, Drama, Slice of life, Humor/Comedy, Friendship.

Warnings ; Badly written, a curse word, some weirdly written past tense (pardon my grammar)

Summary ; Story of you ( fm reader ) with the boys.

PART 3 ; Do you ever?

"Do you ever?"

That's the first thing that comes to you mind when you see your friends across the table.

They laughing at some jokes that Mark told, even though the jokes are so lame and overused.

But something came to your mind seeing their silly interaction, you don't why but you can't get it out of your mind no matter how many time you want to ignore the thoughts.

Imagine.

How boring your life would be if they weren't your friends?

Yups, that's the thought.

You see them once again, lost at your thoughts, Jaemin who saw you daydreaming trying to wake you up.

"What's up cupcake? Did something bothering you?" Jaemin says, worried shows on his face.

You snapped, you lock eyes with him.

"Ah.. That's, just.." You stuttered, magically all of their attention back to you.

This time Jeno is worried, never saw you looked so pale and deep in you thought, normally you would just laughed at their typical boring joke, but today you seemed weird.

His hand reaching for you, he holds your hand, looking at you.

"Are you okay? You have been acting weird lately?" He asked, you shrugged.

"Ehh~ really? No, nothing, just some thoughts." You convinced them.

Even though you can't bring yourself to that sentence, it's bugging you like an tiresome mosquito bites.

How'd you know about it? Well summer camp is probably the answer for that.

But to this question it's still unknown.

Should you tell them? Will they laugh at you? No they won't, will they?

"Lies! I know you have something on your mind, what's it? Jisung drink your banana milk?" Renjun exclaimed, looking at Jisung.

The boy pouting in complaint.

"No I'm not! Beside, Y/N prefers strawberries smoothie!" He complained with his mouth pouting like a balloon.

Chenle can't help himself to smiles and giggles at Jisung cute comments, he then proceeds to poked Jisung cheek.

"Hey, mind your actions." The boy talks, Chenle shrugged.

"Is it because of that rumor that you and Taeyong hyung were your best movies buddies and not Mark?" Haechan spill, making the one who are being mentioned is irritated.

"What do you mean by Taeyong is Y/N movies buddies? She loves to watch horror movie with me!" Mark whined, Haechan nodded while patting the boy head like a child.

"I know you would say that cutie." He smirked widely.

"Eww, if you guys want to do that, do that in your own house or something, there's a child in here!" Jaemin groaned,

"Well guys, this is my time to talk." You chime in, didn't want to make them open their secrets possession anymore or some complained.

"Sure, you can talk about it with us, we can talk about it." Jeno added.

"Soo.. I was just thinking, how is it, if we never.. Ya know? Be friends?" You remarked, making the boys went silent.

Hearing no comebacks, you continues with your thoughts and reasons.

"I mean, we are.. Basically that type of people, people who are born with everything given to us freely without having to asked or begged, I know it's a blessing, but don't you ever think? How this type of relationship actually works?" You explained.

No more, sounds they made.

Normally they would laugh at your thoughts, because that's how basically Renjun and his thoughts about space would be responded.

He would talk about how moon is just another place for a bunny to live in, or how there's this another world or universe in which everyone is completely opposite than how they usually looked or act.

But that's Renjun thoughts, not yours.

Yours is simply logically explainable, and the reason or arguments that you bring are absolutely something that is easy for some normal people brain.

"Yeah.. You are right."

"I don't know how mine would be." Renjun blurted it out, making everyone on the room nodding their head in agreement.

"Mine would be pretty boring actually." Chenle claimed, you look at him.

You never saw the boy looked so gloomy, the boy is the butterfly of your group full of sunshine and loud yelling going around him.

Now his head hung low, looking at the carpet under his feet, playing with the carpet.

"That would be weird actually." Mark chime in, exactly after seeing Chenle.

He tried to make it bright.

"I mean, we all have been friends for since I don't know? 13 year? Heck it's been so long, I remembered seeing you guys for the first time!" Mark added.

That time, the 8 of you were only 7 years old.

[ Flashback ]

You looked at your blue dress, with a pretty bandana you had on your head.

You looked very cute and bubbly, you ran down to the first floor.

You saw your sister, who in the future will be one of the famous make up brand owner, she goes by the name Kim Yoo-jung

She was 11 when you are only 7, she saw you with your bright blue dress, she came closer.

"Well if this isn't my cute little angel, how's the dress?" She asked, patting your head.

You smiled brightly at her questions you twirl around in your gown, with your hand making an elegance motion.

"I love it! It's so beautiful! Thank you unnie!" You chirped happily, while she hug you in response.

Even though Yoo-jung doesn't live with you anymore, since she's mostly living by your aunt and uncle to learn about the beauty world and make up.

You love and adore her a lot, she comes home only twice in a whole 4 years, and she came back brought you a very gorgeous gown, you can never felt thankful for her sincere care for you.

She hugged you tightly, then get interrupted with a very tall figure next to her.

"Are you guys still busy? We had party that we should catch up."

Kim Seokjin, your Older-Brother, you and him had a deep connection, but due to his busy schedule, he can't really be always near you for 24 hours.

Same as your sister, he lived with your aunt and uncle, he's 14 at the time, and already a model.

In the future he's a really well known designer who had design a lot of great dresses and suit for a very famous people.

He looked at Yoo-jung giving the girl a side eye.

Yoo-jung and Seokjin isn't the best when it's come to sibling goals relationship, it's true that they care for each other but they still try cover it up with an act of 'shut it I don't care'

You can say your family is a pretty gruesome when it's come to showing affection.

And guess what? You to, are in the same situation.

You didn't have much friends, it's not like you want to, making friends means making connection.

And the thought of making connections with people who are a completely stranger to you doesn't sit right with you.

In this world, friends mean connection, connection means fortunate, if you are not lucky, then you are a loser.

That's deep, but that's life.

How can some 7 years old girl thinking of it? Well it's the magic of story.

"Yeah, we should be going now."

The 3 of you were attending one of the biggest party celebration. It's the 32 anniversary of Na's cookies and bakery, one of the famous bakery in town.

You heard that Na's have a pretty little young boy, who are at the time is 7 years old.

You were hoping you can befriended the boys, your mom seeing you then hugging you tightly.

"There you are my little angel, how's the dress? You like it? Your sister prepared it exclusively for you only." She yelped, quite loud actually.

You and your mom and dad, is actually quite close, not like some movies in which some rich family always have troubled getting close to their biological parents.

You love your parents, and you still do in the future.

Back to your mom, you smiled twirling, showing your petite body and slim figure.

She smiled, she was already thinking about how should she make you join the model company, but she know you are still too young

Who knows 13 years from now you are already a model of some famous cover magazines?

She then proceed to introduce you to some people that she knews, untill she stopped at the Na's.

"Hello Miss Kim, how'd you like the party?" She asked until she averted her eyes to you, seeing you for the first time she can't help but awe-ing your cuteness.

"Omg, is she YN? Your cute little daughter? Omg! You looked so sweet sweetheart." She exclaimed in excitement, you bowed down politely.

"Nice to meet you miss Na, I'm Kim Yn, in the future I will be the best designer!" She responded happily, using your cheer tone.

"Cutie, from now you can call me your mother okay? Who knows in the future you will become my daughter in law." She grinned looking at your mom way.

She chuckled jokingly, "She doesn't even now who is the groom, how can she make sure that Na is the one?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot to introduce you to my baby Nana, sweetie, he's right there with his friends, you should join them!" She pointed at a quite far away table, there's 7 boys sitting across each other silently.

In your mind, you were thinking about should you join them or not, since they seem very close with each other.

Even though the reality, the boys can't even opened their mouth due to nervous.

You come closer, their eyes are still focus at another place, some still eating cookies, some is awkwardly fidgeting his fingers, some are completely out from this planet.

Untill you sit at the table, their eyes finally realizing your form.

Actually getting stared at with a bunch of people are quite terrifying.

"Hello everyone, I'm Kim Yn, Miss Na told me to sit in here while she's busy talking with my mother." You said, trying to break the tension on the table.

Seeing you like seeing their crush at fifth grade.

Well technically, they weren't in a fifth grade, but they can't helped themselves to be interested in you or even have a crush on you.

You had a pretty cute dark hair, pretty plump lips, and even your dress make you stand out in their eyes.

Haechan opened his mouth, trying to talk with you.

"Hello! I'm Donghyuk! My mom called me Haechan because she thinks it's cute." The little boy greeted very loudly, all of the boys across the room are surprised.

"Haechan! You don't have to scream!" Jeno complained, making Haechan flustered.

"Sorry.." He apologized.

Jeno felt sorry, he thinks he's very harsh on the boy.

"No it's Jeno's fault, sorry.." He apologized to.

And then the two boys cries.

"Kids." Renjun sassed.

"Renjun you are a kid to." Mark emphasizes, trying to make the kids realized.

"No, I'm not! I'm 7 years old, which means I have live in this world for 7 years, it's a long period of time!" He insisted.

"7 years is still a kid." Chenle muttered, Renjun huffing in annoyance.

"Keep telling yourself that, I always think 7 years old is old enough to be called not kids." He speak in a weird language and grammar, you can't understand.

"So the point is that, you are not a kid like that?" You explained the problem, trying to fix this 7 years old is a kid or not argument.

"My dad said it's still a kid, unless you are 11 years or 14 years older, my dad said until you get puberty then you still a kid." Jisung boasted.

You never saw a kid so smart before, that boy catch your glance seeing your sparkling eyes making him blushed.

"Is there something on my face? I don't like wearing makeup but my mom make sure I have a light make up on.." He acknowledged.

"Eh.. No, I just think you are smart." You complimented the boy, jisung become more red.

"You like jisung?" Another boy asked.

He looked very cute with a very bright smile, you saw that feature before.

"You are Jaemin?" You asked, the boy eyes lit in excitement.

"Yes! It's me! How you know?" He asked again, loving the attention he got.

"You look like your mom, so I just assumed you are Nana."

Hearing the nickname, he can't help but jumping in excitement, pretty girl are calling him with his cute name.

And that's how Jaemin have a crush on YN.

No.

"Yn liked me first!" Haechan nagged, trying to make your attention back to him.

You laughed at his puffy eyes, he smiled at your laugh he thinks it's cute.

Then the next few hours is wasted on how all the boys wanted your attention on themselves only.

Become very obvious aren't they.

You saw Jisung, he's very shy and doesn't talk that much.

Since he's sitting right next to you, you assured him while tightening your hold on his hands.

He saw them, at first he's very surprise, but the next minute he felt relief.

"Are you okay? Do you need space? I think you do." You asked the little boy out of concern.

"No, I'm fine, I'm quite shy.." He mumble, lucky you can hear that soft voice.

"That's okay, I'm sorry for forcing a skin ship with you, everytime my mom saw me surprise or went blank, she always holding my hand and talk to me in a sweet voice.." You reasoned, you almost let go the little boy hand, but he refused so.

"No.. That's fine, my mom sometimes do this to me too.. Especially if I have to talk to a lot of people, you can keep you hand on mine!" He smiled, his cute nose crunches.

At that time, you felt the urge to adopt him, even though you are still 7 years, you don't care, you want this little boy to be your little brother.

"OMG!! You are sooo cute!" Jaemin yelped, beating you to it.

"He do be kinda cute, starting now you are my little brother!" Mark stated, everyone on the table nodding their head certainly.

"Then it settle, he's our baby boy!" Renjun exclaimed, everyone fisting to the air like those sport animes.

"What? But.. I'm not the youngest! YN are!" He whined, complaining about how is he becomes the maknae of the group if YN is younger by him.

"Well it's doesn't matter, that mean we will care for you more, be sure to expecting a lot of skin ship, because this boy are going to be the bear hugger!" Haechan shouted, warned the poor boy of the what's about to come.

You laughed at that, everyone laugh at that, you see all of those starry eyes, with sparkling marked to their gaze.

You fell in love with them, you think they're the soul mate of your own, someone who you think you can trust, grow old together.

Imagining, all the possibilities of the future income, like Haechan are going to be that one sunshine, Renjun the sweet cinnamon rolls, Jaemin the nagger and attention seeker, Jeno the kindest, Mark the coolest older brother, Chenle your loud butterfly, and last your baby hamster Jisung.

You never knew how this relationship of friendship are going to unfold, or is it going to be like this forever, you just hoped its never end.

[ Flashback end ]

Well you sure it has come to that past wishes.

Your dreams come true, they stay the same, you stay the same, something change, but they that you met for the first rime at 7 year's old party celebration, are still the same 7 dorks you know.

Even though they have grow old, and Renjun are already old enough since he already hit puberty and he finally can tell Jisung about that puberty facts.

The air around you and them felt warm, it's probably golden hour already, Haechan just smile at the old past.

"You guys want to go out? It's on Mark!" Haechan chirping in excitement.

You stand up hearing that statement, making everyone jumped excited, other than Mark everyone is happy.

You do ever questioned, Like..

Why Mark is the oldest even though he doesn't act like it? Pretending to be that cool older brother even though he's the one who needs supervisor, How Renjun could be soo cute after all this time, How Jeno is the best secret keeper you know, how Haechan can be so annoying at some time but still your best besties ever, why Jaemin agreed to be your eomma 24/7 and taking care of 7 kids at the same time being the sweetheart he is, How Chenle could be so loud and easy going, and Why do you still see Jisung as the same cute little brother you saw at the first time.

The answer is one, you let yourself knowing them, meeting them, enjoying their company, all of their hugs, and affection you always wanted, you let yourself be yourself, be their friend.

You loved them.

That's the answer.

Narrator who sees everything from behind the curtain are crying so hard, they decided to stop to story at that time.

You and your friend going to your favorite ice cream shop.

Previous / Next.

A/N ; I'm sorry for not be able to post some of this week's..

I felt quite exhausted due to some school work, besides I have a lot of projects on hands it's become hand full :"

Anyway hope you enjoyed this chapter so far! ☺

Tag ;

#haechan #mark lee #nct dream #jaemin #lee jeno #nct fanfic #park jisung #nct #renjun #nct fluff

15 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Espionage and Iced Coffee (Part of the Cuffed Universe Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Remus/Logan (Logan/Remus/Virgil for the universe)

Characters: Remus, Logan

Summary: Remus catches Logan for the first time. Nothing about it goes as expected.

This is a Cuffed Universe fic.

Previous fics in this series:

Tea, Cookies, and Handcuffs

Matboards and Subway Sandwiches

Extras:

Moving Day

Notes: Non-consensual drug use mentioned, morally grey Logan, cop Remus, fighting, blood, biting, fear of death

This was… surreal. Remus spent a split-second gawking at the familiar figure standing at the ice machine for the motel he was staying at. This, Remus had not been expecting. True, he had taken to staying at places like this when trying to track down Logan because he knew it was the type of place Logan stayed at when on the run, but it had been more about getting into the right head space. He hadn’t expected to stumble upon the man himself while wearing sweats and a t-shirt 10 minutes before he was planning to go to bed.

He’d lost Logan’s trail once again 2 days ago when Logan had ducked out of the research lab he’d been working at for the last month (with a few electronic souvenirs) and had yet to pick it back up. It hadn’t been a surprise after the last 6 months, but it had still been unbelievably frustrating. Logan always seemed to be 2 steps ahead of Remus and 5 steps ahead of everyone else.

Remus had taken it upon himself to personally track down ‘Logan Berry’ after he’d been drugged and left on a kitchen floor by the criminal. His boss seemed inclined to give Remus free reign especially after he’d managed to catch that first trail a couple of months into the investigation where no one else had gotten anywhere close.

‘Logan Berry’ was good. There was a reason he was called “The Ghost of the Dark Web.” He could easily disappear in a moment from the internet and, as Remus had quickly found out, real life. He could fade into the chatter of everyday life in a moment and he could do it incredibly well. This had been made clear as Remus dug into the identity of Logan Berry.

The thing about Logan Berry was he looked so real. It’s why when he’d originally been sent to look for the hacker and eco-terrorist, everyone had thought he was looking for Virgil. Virgil who had no one in his life but dead parents and a roommate, lacked a college degree, and worked a bunch of odd jobs, many of which had paid cash. It was a laughable thought now that Remus had gotten to know Virgil and contextualized his history, but at the time he’d seemed like the obvious cover story for a cybercriminal.

Logan Berry, on the other hand had two living parents that lived in the next state, had spoken at many colleges around the world, and had a string of connections from his undergraduate professors through his PhD advisor. Clearly, he was real.

He was not real.

Remus would find with a bit of digging that the nice couple whose names were on Logan’s birth certificate had never had any children. The degrees and references were mostly fake, though he had actually presented at many colleges and he did seem to know his stuff. Remus had a theory that he had gotten a degree under a different name at some point.

The only person who seemed to actually know him as more than as a passing acquaintance was Virgil, and Remus was convinced at this point that Virgil was completely in the dark when it came to Logan’s criminal activities.

Knowing all of that, he was sure to have slipped away and created another just as good cover within a week of the drugging incident. The trail had run cold. Or, so it would seem, but Remus was nothing if not stubborn. He’d found just the lightest trail after months of looking in the form of a name Virgil had mentioned in passing once. That name had ended up being an alias of Logan that had gone dormant two days after Logan fled the first time, but it had given him something. He’d dug his teeth into that something and had managed to track Logan down, but he’d slipped away into the night once again. That had set off a vicious game of cat and mouse between Remus and Logan that had spanned the last four months.

The cycle had been doomed to repeat again when he’d lost him a couple of days ago. In defeat, Remus had retired to this little motel in a nearby town to regroup. When he had, he had not anticipated this.

Logan’s back was to the door giving Remus a few precious seconds to think. He darted back to his room next door to grab his wallet, car keys, and handcuffs. Everything else, he could come back for later. Remus heard footsteps as Logan left the ice machine area. He walked past Remus’s open motel door, likely to return to his own room. Remus dashed out behind him and grabbed his arm. One of the cuffs locked around his wrist before he could even think to react.

There was a single second of shock as he jerked his head around to look at Remus. Then, in the next second, a bucket of ice was brought down onto Remus’s head. He did not let go of Logan’s wrist as the other man was surely hoping he would. Instead, he gritted his teeth and yanked him closer.

They wrestled for a few minutes; Logan was not a fair fighter. He instantly went for the eyes, nose, and groin, but Remus somehow managed to subdue him. The other cuff snapped closed around his previously free wrist, but he was not finished. He reared back and bit Remus’s shoulder as hard as he could, drawing blood. Remus shoved his head away with a curse and began the process of dragging him to Remus’s car. He fought to get him into the car, and, not wanting to give him free range of the backseat of his personal car, Remus struggled with him until he was hooked to the interior grab handle.

The small town they were in didn’t even have a police station, so Remus started his car, intending to drive to the slightly bigger town 10 minutes away. Logan spent most of the drive cursing, rattling his restraints, and contorting himself to try to kick Remus despite that risking killing the both of them.

“Would you stop that?” Remus snapped. The answer was a sharp kick to the back of his seat. “I’m going to ask them to put you in one of the dog kennels instead of the jail cell if you’re not careful,” he threatened.

“What?”

“Yeah… the county sheriff department and the pound are in the same building. We are not in the city anymore. Guess it makes sense though. Doggy jail. People jail. Eh.”

There was a pause. “You are taking me to a police station?” Logan asked.

“Well, I’m not taking you to a Chuck E. Cheese,” Remus scoffed. There was a heavy silence following that statement. Remus glanced back at him. “What?”

“I just… After the circumstances of our first meeting, the ferocity with which you have pursued me, and the fact that we’re driving into the countryside, I had assumed I wouldn’t survive this encounter, at least on your whim.”

“What?” Remus said. “Jesus fuck, dude.”

There was nothing but sincerity in his tone when he said, “It is a reasonable prediction from what I have observed.”

“Well, I don’t know what you think you’ve ‘observed,’ but while you’re lucky I don’t drug you out of your mind and make you ride in the trunk, I’m not going to murder you and throw your body in a ditch.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he asked, and the tone of his voice had Remus’s foot lifting off the gas. The car rolled to a stop at the side of the road.

He reached down to put the car in park. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Remus said. He turned in his seat to meet Logan’s eyes. “Look, you’re a bastard and I’m pretty pissed about the whole drugging me thing, you being two steps ahead of me for months, and the fact that you bit my shoulder a few minutes ago, but this is just an arrest.”

There was something jagged in his eyes that spoke of being wronged, and Remus wondered for the first time in his single-minded mission to bring the man down if there was something more to his story than just being a ruthless hacker and competent criminal.

“Hey,” Remus said softly. “How about something to drink?”

“Is this the drugging me out of my mind portion of the day?” Logan asked skeptically.

“Nah,” Remus replied. He leaned over the center console to the cooler he kept under the passenger seat. “I’d use a needle for that, much faster.” He sat back up. “How do you feel about iced coffee?” He shook the bottle at him.

He arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking me to a police station?”

“Always time for a nice drink.”

“I believe that ended badly for you last time,” Logan pointed out.

“I’m trying to be nice, Logan.”

“Fine,” he agreed after a moment, still eyeing Remus cautiously.

Remus gave him a toothy smile and opened the top of the iced coffee bottle with a pop.

“You first,” Logan insisted. Remus rolled his eyes and took a sip himself before offering one to Logan.

“So, where’d you disappear to in Detroit, anyway. I’ve been curious. I thought I’d lost you permanently there.”

“I have safe houses all over the country,” Logan divulged as he watched Remus take another sip. “You’d never find them.”

Remus hummed and offered him another drink. “I bet you thought I wouldn’t find you either.”

“Lucky break,” Logan replied, “and only after months of being a persistent gnat.”

“Mosquito please,” Remus requested. “At least let me be able to do some damage.”

“So, you’re a malaria carrier?” Logan asked.

“Yellow Fever. I’m a classy mosquito.” He almost chocked on the sip he was taking and Remus grinned. “Careful, if you get snot in the coffee… I’ll probably still drink it, honestly.” Logan gave him a look that teetered somewhere between amused and disgusted.

“You should probably be more careful about what you drink,” Logan said sweetly, leaning close to him so their noses almost brushed.

“And you should probably learn to not be so cheeky,” Remus said, poking him in the cheek for emphasis. He startled at the action, but then smiled a bit.

They continued bantering until the drink was finished, and then Remus tossed it into the backseat opposite Logan.

“You should get a garbage bag for your car,” Logan said, frowning down at the trash.

Remus rolled his eyes.

“I hope you know this doesn’t mean I’m not going to screw you over at the first opportunity,” Logan said lightly.

“Looking forward to it,” Remus said.

“Don’t bother.” He was vaulting over the center console into the front seat in the next moment; somehow, he had picked the handcuff lock. He went straight for the pressure point on Remus’s collarbone, but he managed to jerk back and away. Remus struggled to get the car door open and they went tumbling out. They rolled around in the grass for a few long moments before…

Click.

“Shit,” Remus said, doing his best to pull himself and the wrist with the one cuff on it away from him, but the next second he was on his stomach with a knee pressed into his back. The other handcuff snapped around his other wrist.

“How?” Remus spat.

“If it’s any consolation, I would have still gotten free without stopping. You just allowed me more time and a stopped vehicle.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Remus grumbled into the mud.

Logan rolled him over and helped him sit up. Remus glared at him. He just turned back to the open car door and searched it for a few moments before coming back out with Remus’s phone in hand.

He walked over to Remus and looked at him for a moment.

“I’m unsure if your kindness will continue if we ever meet again,” Logan said. His eyes flickered a bit and he leaned forward to press a kiss to Remus’s cheek. “I do appreciate it though and not because it allowed me to escape.” Remus blinked at him in surprise, speechless as he dialed something on Remus’s phone and then pressed it against his ear. Remus scrunched up his neck to keep it there as he heard the sound of the phone ringing. Logan turned to walk back to the car.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

Want to read more? The next installment is:

Popcorn and Podcasts

#sanders sides #remus sanders #logan sanders #intrulogical #intruanalogical #adriana writes #cuffed universe #cop remus #morally grey logan #non-consensual drug use #fighting #blood and injury #biting #fear of death

105 notes · View notes