#rolls up to this event three days late with starbucks

[joeal-kaysani]

OFMDBLOG 1k Celebration Event Day 3 — "This is Happening" Moment

[citiair]

LIKE YOU part three

————

aran ojiro x black!female!reader

-> ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE!!! basketball!player!aran, cheerleader!black!reader, reader and aran are good friends, aran is low key a jerk, reader likes aran, ANGST, she/her pronouns, female bodied. small mentions of graphic fighting. italics with ‘*’ means flashbacks, bolded let’s mean talking, FLUFF.

pt. 1 -> pt. 2 -> pt. 3

⤓

YOU KNOW YOURE A FREAKING PEST!

you screamed at aran, who sat there with scratches on his face.

i was just watching out for you calm down. he said you to trying to bandage his face. he looked you as you were wiping your eyes from the tears escaping from them.

he put his bandaging materials down and got up from the bench in the boys’ locker room and walked over to you. he stood infront of you and wrapped his arms around you.

you cried in his chest and hugged him back.

why did you do this. why do you make me feel this way. you stammered in his shoulder as tears covered his basketball uniform.

i’m sorry, i really am. he told you sincerely as he took one of his arms from around you and placed a hand on your cheek.

he kissed your forehead and looked at you as you look back at him.

i took my anger out at the wrong time, this is all my fault. he said to you as you rolled your eyes, reminiscing about earlier events.

t̲h̲r̲e̲e̲ ̲h̲o̲u̲r̲s̲ ̲p̲r̲i̲o̲r̲ ̲*̲

* you were gathering all your materials for the game tonight out of your dorm.

you grabbed your pom poms, uniform top and bottom, your bow, and shoes, but there was something you were missing.

you pondered on what you were missing until willow walked through the door with a laundry basket in their hands.

my socks! you shrieked and ran to them and took the laundry basket out their hand.

hello to you too! willow sarcastically said to you.

you dug through the basket of clean clothes and found your socks.

you smiled at your triumph and rolled them up then tossed then in your duffle bag.

curry! you made a pose as if you just through a ball in a hoop.

willow laughed at you and sat on their bed. so are you gonna be okay tonight babes? they asked you sincerely.

they’ve been worried about you these pass couple days ever since aran ghosted you, your attitude had changed.

you were sleeping late, missed some class— which you never do! and ate like a gazillion pounds of ice creams.

ugh! heartbreak!

you went to willow and hugged them tightly. they hugged you back and kissed your cheek.

you smiled and kissed their cheek as well. you stepped away and look at them.

i’ll be fine wills! yes it stings a little but i won’t let him ruin tonight. today is very important game for some people and we have a really fun cheer planned! you cheered to willow who smiled at you with their freshly done purple braces.

you smiled and ran to your side of the room.

i know you’ll be fine, just hate to see you hurt. though i can’t wait to see you and everyone at the game. they spoke to you and grinned.

you turned them and blew them a kiss then made your way out the room.

they screamed ‘love you’ and you yelled back a ‘love you too’.

‘let’s get this over with, yea’. you thought to yourself as you proceeded down the halls on your dorm’s building.

—

you got to the school and ran to the girls locker you only had an hour to get ready because you wanted to get some starbucks, can’t blame you though.

don’t nobody feed y’all after these games.

you got to the locker and walked through the door and went straight to your locker.

kendra walked in the dressing room to her locker and huffed.

she was thinking of why aran was being so distant with her lately just a couple days he was all over her. now he is saying he don’t want her like that no more.

what changed. was she not good enough. did she do something wrong.

she looked down at the ground as tears fell from her eyes.

why didn’t no one love her.

you turned around when you heard a quietly sobbing kendra.

by now you had your cheer uniform except your shoes and bow.

you knew you were still upset with her but once upon a time you guys used to always be together— best friends, but a lot of that changed when you guys got high school and of course aran was added to the equation.

it used to be you three all the time. what happened was that aran asked you to his senior prom and kendra got jealous and stopped talking to you. and only you.

it’s stupid, yes of course. yet that deflated a whole friendship and you can’t lie you missed her, all that drama happened in high school.

you guys are both sophomores now and you just want to let bygones be bygones.

as for aran, aran still thought you didn’t like her, but no that was wrong. you guys actually talked a few times, yes it was awkward but you’ve made conversation.

you would say you were passed it but her you didn’t know if she was.

you did tighten your lips together and huffed hard, then walked over to her.

hey kendra… you said to her lowly. she was now sitting on the bench texting someone you didn’t know who though.

she sniffles and murmured a ‘hi’ to you.

you sat next to her and hugged her, she hugged you tightly and cried on your shoulder.

i’m so sorry y/n, i miss you so much. i did you wrong so many times. i’m so so sorry. she told you as she hiccuped.

it’s okay kendra.i miss you too. you told her. you knew what she was referring too.

the prom fiasco.

sleeping with aran, twice.

yea you knew.

and as well as the not talking to you.

but you had been forgiven her because it was just all stupid drama. maybe not the sleeping with aran. you’ll get back to her on that.

it’s not okay though. you were my best friend. she said as she pulled away and looked at you.

you nodded and sighed.

she is not wrong though, you were just trying to lighten up the mood.

yea…but i forgive you. you said to her. you meant it.

she smiled and placed her head on your shoulder.

thank you.

—

you and your cheer mates were cheering y’all butts off.

you knew this was an important day for aran. some recruiters were coming to look at the game.

you remembered this because that’s all he was talking about a couple days prior before ghosting you.

your cheer mates backed up a little so you could hit a kart wheel into a spilt.

they cheered behind and started chanting your name then the teams name.

aran looked over and saw you and smiled.

he missed you…real bad.

aran blocked a player from the other team trying to get the ball into his team’s net.

he ran around the gym, as the crowd of people and cheer team chanted his name and his number— 1.

micah was picked up on that and wasn’t so happy so ran in aran’s directions and tripped him trying to play it off as if he was running passed him.

micah smirk evilly and ran to the rest of the game. aran sat there on the ground dumbfounded, realizing people were picking on what just happened.

you were in awe. this is not gonna end well.

aran got up from the ground walked over to were micah was guarding and swung punch at him causing him to fall to the ground.

aran got on top of him and started punching him repeatedly.

micah grabbed aran’s shirt trying to regain some power but oh no! aran wasn’t having that. micah got a few scratches on aran’s face but that was all.

it wasn’t until a couple seconds later the cheer team, the other basketball team, the coaches, and referee came to jump in and stop the fight.

you. you were just standing there because what they had going ain’t have nothing to do with you.

the ref pulled aran off with the help of some basketball players and one of the coaches helped a beaten up micah up.

BRO WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM! micah screamed at him.

you...YOU TRYING TO TALK Y/N! aran screamed back.

I don’t get why you’re tripping out about it! micah grunted at him.

aran looked around at everyone eying him. he pulled away from the people holding him back and walking away from the scene.

you watched him and sighed looking down.

so maybe, this had something to do with you.

kendra came up to you and tap you on your shoulder.

go to him. she said with tears in her eyes.

she knew aran loved you.

she just denied it.

you nodded and ran after him.

‘i’m doing the right thing’. she thought to herself. *

p̲r̲e̲s̲e̲n̲t̲ ̲t̲i̲m̲e̲

you pulled away from aran and looked down at the ground. he went to sit back on the bench.

come here, love. he said as he patted the seat next to him.

you hesitated but sat next to him. you fiddled with your fingers.

i’m sorry for being a pest these past couple of days. he told you and he grabbed your hands.

you looked at him and sighed. look if i made you uncomfortable by telling you that- you tried to talk yourself out this conversation.

only to be cut off by, i love you. he said as a tear escaped from his eye.

i was scared and i acted out. i slept with kendra. i ignored you. my bestfriend, i ignored you. i’m so sorry. he told you full on sobbing while pulling you closer to him.

and you fought poor micah. you said wiping his tears.

i don’t care about him, he shouldn’t have thought he could what’s mine. he explained.

yours? you questioned him furrowing your eyebrows.

he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

can we do a redo? he asked you yearningly.

you nodded and he let go of your hands, went to his locker, opened it and grabbed his phone then sat back down next to you.

you tilted your head and looked at him curiously.

—

⁶:³⁷𝚙𝚖 -> 𝗵𝗶, 𝗶'𝗺 𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗷𝗶𝗿𝗼. 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

𝗵𝗶, 𝗶'𝗺 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻. 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗼. <- ⁶:³⁷𝚙𝚖

—

you giggled, as placed him phone down next to him then took one of his hands and put it on your check and pulled you into a sweet kiss.

you kissed back and smiled.

a couple seconds later you guys pulled away and smiled at eachother.

now let’s talk about how shock those recruiters was. they might recommend you to do boxing. you giggled as he rolled his eyes playfully.

he chuckled softly admiring you and your beauty.

he’s so happy you love him and he

loves you.

————

a/n: that’s a wrap guys! thank so much for the support. i’m so happy i got back into writing i missed it. who knows maybe i’ll drop a sequel well again thank you so much for the support until next time my loves! <3

© citiair, all rights reserved. no copying of my work! inspiration is appreciated but must be credited! work is modified because of the owning I have to it!

[ratsoh-writes]

Go kart competition for all the skeletons! Let's raise the stakes and say they were dragged to the event regardless. Enemies can be at opposite ends of the starting line. Who is flat out refusing to race. Who wins the top 5. Who gets last place and who creates a pile up? (Or anything similar)

Lol, the only guys who would opt out are the horror papyri. Noir and willow really don’t want to f*ck up their backs from this and unless there’s a go cart out there that can house 7’11 basil, he’s gonna politely decline. They’ll play cheerleader though.

If this ever happened, I bet it’d be at a barrier festival. I can see the guys running into some of each other and declaring a war between skeletons lol

Sans: he’s a big weenie that’s allergic to pain. The second it looks like someone is going to crash into him, he’s shortcutting out of the cart. Abandon ship!

Papyrus: remember how edge doesn’t really like papyrus that much? Well it’s not fair that edge is friends with sans and not him! So papyrus has declared that him and edge are teaming up for this race! You can’t escape friendship edge!!!

Star: he tried to tell lilac you maybe sit this one out. Lilac refused and accused Star of babying him. Now they are mortal enemies for the day. The first race lilac friggin made Star drive into a ditch lol. The second race Star flipped lilacs kart. Now Jupiter is sacrificing his win ti drive between those two

Honey: he’s a big weenie who doesn’t have the blessing of shortcuts. After getting wiped out the first race, honey plays injured and hangs out with the horrors the next races

Red: oak keeps getting lost on the track and red ends up going after him. They take a detour and have a nice country road drive instead lol

Edge: for some reason sans annoying little brother insists that they team up for these races. Naturally edge betrays him the first round. But papyrus’s face made him feel bad so he plays nice the next two. Mission accomplished papyrus

Mal: he nearly fought with cash over the black and silver kart. Mal won naturally, and he uses the high from his victory to secure first place in all three races. Mal is really good at drifting

Cash: he wanted the black and silver one so bad but his stupid brother had the same idea. So cash ends up with the neon orange kart. He has a fun time causing a pile up in every race with bruiser

Oak: he somehow got off track the first race and went down a deserted country road. Red followed him and they decide to dusty and have a nice cruise instead

Charm: when cash and bruiser cause the pile up, he wound up squashed underneath butch, boss, snipe and the undynes. They were super worried about him even though he insisted he was fine and forced a pouting charm to sit the next two races out.

Sugar: he was also in the pile up, but boss saved his butt by pulling him on top of himself before sugar could tumble with his kart. Sugar spends the rest of the day swooning over his hero

Pop: he gets second place in all three races. Pop isn’t as skilled as mal, but he uses his small size to pick up speed

Rhythm: he was smart. Rhythm could see that bloodthirsty look in bruisers eye and decided to linger in the back. He helps clean up the pile up of the first race lol

Pluto: he actually gets third on the first race. Pluto was inherent in the back but when he saw the pile up, he panicked and floated himself above the others along with his kart. Nobody disputed it lol

Jupiter: with Star and lilac at war, Jupiter decides it’s his personal duty to make sure they don’t kill each other. Normally this is papyrus’s job, but he’s hanging off of edge for some weird reason.

Lord: he ends up sharing a kart with wine. Partly because they have an odd number of guys racing with the undynes, and also because wine doesn’t care about the race and takes them off track to go get Starbucks instead lol. They come back an hour late with some frappes

Mutt: he saves coffee from the pile up by pulling him into his kart and rolling off track. But they both killed their karts in the process, so coffee texts his brother to get him some coffee. They wind up chilling with basil and watching the show

Wine: he was already planning on ditching, but coffee wanted Starbucks so now wine has an excuse

Coffee: dude mutt is his knight in shining armor today. Coffee is super pissed at cash and bruiser right now and is already planning his revenge. Maybe a glitter bomb…

G: for once he’s glad his brother is such a snob. Green wanted his help first at the fairs stand. Greens practice had a display for scholarships for monster and half breed medical students but one of the volunteers bailed. G probably would’ve broken an arm in that race. He’s brittle

Green: he’s much to busy at his practices display to join the go kart race. Not that he would want to anyways. He winds up finding boss later and healing the crack in his arm he earned from saving sugar

Peaches: the farm bros are also out of the race. They have their farmers market section to take care of

Rancher: he’s gonna be pissed when he hears he missed the pile up

Snipe: he knew letting butch convince him to join was a bad idea. With all these enemies in one place snipe could just feel that someone will escalate. After his own little brother caused that first pile up, he plays injured like honey and sneaks off to hang out with the farm bros

Bruiser: he’s the villain of today lol. And for once, bruiser isn’t getting revenge on another skeleton. This time he’s targeting tempest. She had him in a thirty minute headlock yesterday and was still gloating. When the race started, bruiser looked her in the eye and promised that he’d make sure she wound even cross half the track. He delivered

Butch: he does get lucky enough to get third in the last race. Technically he tied for third with Star and lilac. But he still had fun. Butch isn’t even mad at being the near bottom of a pile up that first round

Boss: he’s rather protective of sugar so when he saw him about you be dragged under another kart, boss acted out of instinct. He pulls him out of the way but suffers a small crack on his arm for the trouble. He had bayou didn’t even notice till green healed him later. He has a pretty high pain tolerance

Ace: he also saw that look in bruisers eye and feeling generous, ace decides to share a kart with slim. He knows his brother will pop away at the first sign of trouble. Ace doesn’t even have to go through the effort of shortcutting himself! Genius lol

Slim: like sans, the second he sees danger he shortcuts out. And since ace was in the kart with him, he takes his brother along for the ride.

Rust: he hangs back and avoids the destruction of the first race. Then rust spends the rest of the festival wondering where red and oak went

Lilac: he is SICK AND TIRED of Star treating him like he’s brittle. So lilac gives his younger counterpart a hard time during the races. Star forgets, lilac might not be as fast, but he’s a lot bigger. It just takes a tap from him for starts cart to spin off track. After that it’s game on lol

[thejudgingtrash]

Annabeth is a good person,but not a nice or pleasant one,IMO.

YES.

That’s it. That’s the post. Pack it up everybody, we just cracked the case and cleared up one of the most compelling fights in the PJO fandom since forever. Good job everybody, clap it out and there’s the door! Don’t forget ordering the drinks at Starbucks, Mitch! They’re on me!

Okay, but on a more serious note: YES. YES EXACTLY.

And before some of you roll your eyes or grab your pitchforks – put your biases aside and hear me out for once. I like Annabeth. She’s my in my top three characters only second to Percy himself. I love Percabeth. It’s my favorite ship in the entire series and to be frank, the only ship that I care about PJO wise. Hell, I spend my time creating my own headcanons or writing my own fanfics with Percabeth being the star in them.

But that is not to say that I’m unable to see how certain things have developed over the years or where they stand now in regard to Annabeth. I’m not here to ignore things that have been said and/or done due to or in the name of Annabeth and I’m not here to vilify anyone that doesn’t like her. And I’m here to admit that I’m guilty of some of the things that may be addressed in this meta essay that you will read in just a second. However, I try my best to assure you, that I’m for once able to recognize my own bias.

Warning: a monster essay lies right upon you.

This should count as a paper of its own.

Back to the statement on top: I would go out even further to reframe your claim, anon:

Annabeth Chase is a good character but not a nice or pleasant person.

Annabeth is a wonderful character but she isn’t a nice one. Or at least not nice to everyone. She is (construction wise if I dare say) the best character out of the series. She has her positive traits (she’s caring, she’s emotional, she’s encouraged and volunteers, she fights for what she believes in, she forgives (even if doing so begrudgingly)) but she also has her negative traits (she’s stubborn, she’s brash, changing her mind takes forever, she is prejudiced, she baits others). That balances things out. She is branded as the intelligent kid but does irrational things (like I’ve just said a) she’s a kid and b) she’s not a robot). She should probably know better, but we all make mistakes and hopefully grow and learn from them. The clouds in the sky do blur and cover our visions sometimes.

Annabeth had clashes with other characters or was about to have fights due to her stubbornness or jealousy (Rachel, Reyna, etc.) and has of course her problems with the mortal world and her family but she also found new friends, some things cleared up throughout the narration and she was/is quite popular in Camp Half-Blood.

The thing is: she doesn’t have to be nice or pleasant (as a character). Or at least not all the time. Her character is humanized. That is what or who she is. Human. She does stand out as a character, not just because she’s the (future) love interest. She feels like someone you could meet in real life and either adore from the top to the bottom or declare as your biggest enemy. And that’s totally okay if you lean either way – liking or disliking her. Or even feeling indifferent about her. Also great!

To say that she has been the best character that Riordan has crafted is easy to say, because she has been sculpted after Riordan’s wife. He had a model he could rub some of real-life events or traits on. That’s not the problem. The problem truly doesn’t lie on Riordan’s side for the most part for once.

The problem is inherently on the fandom’s side. What the fandom does, how it acts and how it treats Annabeth as a character is the problem. The problems vary but it’s mostly the mischaracterization of Annabeth, starting fights and fan/ship wars, internalized misogyny (in some cases) and how some of the Annabeth stans lash out (ha, got firsthand experience in that field among many of my friends and mutuals!). There is a reason why many people are wary of people that have Annabeth or Percabeth related URLs.

The fact that we see Annabeth mostly through Percy’s lens and (until the Heroes of Olympus saga hits) we never really see her in chill everyday situations is essentially Riordan leaving the back door of the house open, ready for all of you asshats to rob his mansion in Boston. Because a frame on a character means that we don’t get to see the character in its entirety (unlike we do with Percy in PJO for the most part). That means a bunch of stuff is left open for interpretation which is the reason why Annabeth gets so many polarized headcanon and opinions tossed around. I think that is one of the true appeals of Annabeth. You can add on stuff and it necessarily doesn’t have to contradict itself.

We have people calling her abusive due to a (n admittedly stupid and unnecessary) judo flip and we have people that act like she’s never done anything wrong. People sorta use this excuse to form and shape Annabeth however they want and distort her characterization.

People in the fandom act like Annabeth is some weird prized possession. We perceive Annabeth mostly through the eyes of others (Percy, Apollo, etc.) and when we had some sort of insight in her ways (MOA, HOH) it felt… weird? Somewhat? Like Riordan left two bullet points of her characterization and told the ghostwriter: aight, fuck it up, gringo, see you on Tuesday and greet Fred the next time you see him for me. 

There have been many posts lately (by Tharini, Simi, Sawasawako, Jewishpercy and Annie I believe?) that HOO Percabeth felt weird. That they felt weirdly constructed, that there was no conflict, no growth. It felt stagnating, like we’re turning back. We had five books prior where we had Annabeth and Percy slowly shifting from disliking to liking and crushing each other. True development. And when we finally got the cake it felt… dissatisfying. Like the cheap box stuff and not the delicious exquisite taste that we were promised.

I said it previously in my Percabeth ship roast, but let me repeat myself: many Percabeth related things are straight up fanon. Some of it is very old fanon so that’s been unable to distinguish unless you’ve read the books recently and subtract nearly 99,9% of things you see on Tumblr (and occasionally the other shitty parts of the fandom like Reddit, IG, Twitter. Although they mostly steal and recycle tumblr stuff oh well. But back to the topic).

The way people treat Annabeth is so strange. She’s either an innocent fluffy smush baby that’s never harmed a fly and all that she wants for Christmas is being Percy’s lapdog or she’s the devil incarnate, broke into your house, killed your parents Batman style, kicked your puppy and didn’t flush the toilet on the way out. I think this is what mostly makes people hate her or the ship Percabeth. And both extremes are wrong and right at the same time? She is multifaceted so both stereotypes are true and untrue and sorta cancel each other out in the same way.

The true reason why people dislike Annabeth is because the stans are doing the most. (The haters as well, don’t get me wrong, but oh boy. Piss of a stan and you’ll know what I mean). That isn’t inherently new. Are you guys old enough to remember the ship wars that have happened cross platform? Perachel vs. Percabeth? Oh boy, oh boy. I saw some kids on tumblr a few months ago trying to infiltrate both tags and start shit (and also fail). The fact that Rachel still gets used as the bitchy (ex) girlfriend in fanfics? It’s 2020 guys. I know this apocalyptic year is far from perfect and over but I think we can let this trope die, right? Right? I thought we’ve established that Rachel is a pretty chill charcter by now… right?

If you posted your stuff on FFN back in 2010-2013 and it wasn’t the typical cutesy Percabeth story (Goode High, the gods read TLT, punk/prep Percabeth, college AU, etc.) people would’ve come for your fucking throat. Not because the story or the narration was shit. But because the pairing wasn’t Annabeth and Percy (in the sense that Annabeth had to be paired with Percy. I mean Percy gets shipped with everyone and their mother but for Annabeth it was strictly Percy. As annoying as this whole Connabeth thing is – the people behind it actually had a point. She never had a different love interest unless it’s a Percy centered story and he goes off dating Athena, Artemis and Zoe at the same time for some odd reason. Yeah, FFN Percy ships are something). Or it wasn’t the action filled canon compliant story or it wasn’t an AU that was popular.

People were really stubborn, snobbish and wanted their stuff in the four five boxes that were the most popular ones and that’s it. People have been bullied off the site in many fandoms, so it’s not a PJO-only thing but it’s still sad that it happened. (Off-note: most of these FFN tropes are still alive and well and thriving on AO3. Don’t be so snobbish and pretend that every piece you’d find there is a holy grail. There’s a lot of trash you have to waddle through. Same with Wattpad, Tumblr or anywhere else where fanfics get posted. Also had this discussion with Annabeth stans. Sigh).

And Tumblr back then? Forget it, wasn’t much better.

That view has sorta changed (at least for people that have been in the fandom for several years or have managed to find a way to navigate through it) but some of the negative sentiment from back in the day has survived. Be it by new fans coming in or from old fans that never let their stance die. The aggression feels differently and somewhat not. (I don’t know if the anon function had been abused that much back in the day. I was an observer not a participant in the fandom).

Crack a joke at Annabeth’s expense (Kal’s famous “Annabeth is a Republican” post or Dee Dee’s and many others “Annabeth has the education of a second grader, chill with the college plans, girlie” stance) and you have people insulting you, making callout posts, unfollowing and blocking you (based on only that? Okay, honey), making aggressive counter-posts, etc. in a minute. If you respond with “It’s a joke, it’s not real” you have a 50/50 chance of either getting blown off or embarrassing them so that they apologize for once.

This isn’t just about jokes. You can make a headcanon that’s not the cozy cute convenient mainstream saga and people would react the same way. Or art piece (no, not including the whole Tannabeth Blackchase shtick done by Viria and others) or fanfics.

People project so much onto the unfinished canvas that is Annabeth Chase that any form of negative sentiment as little as someone not liking her to straight up criticism, regardless of how tiny it may be, seems like an affront. Like an invitation to a fight. Like an insult to them, their character, everything they believe in. Let me state something:

You are NOT Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase IS NOT you. Annabeth Chase is NOT real. Her feeling cannot be hurt. Someone criticizing, disliking, joking about her or even insulting her will not bother her. Someone making a statement about her is not an insult to YOU.

Let me repeat that:

Annabeth Chase isn’t real. Annabeth Chase isn’t you.

So think a little before you act? I get it when you’re a kid and new to fandoms or haven’t been up with fan cultures in the past and are back in the scene. But if you’re in your late teens or even older as an adult and you’re unable to understand that you aren’t what you like – you aren’t the extension of a fictional character – I feel incredibly sorry for you. Because that’s just incredibly sad. Someone disliking something you like isn’t an attack of your character. It shows you that you are you and the other person is a human just like you. That they just have different taste. Disliking something you like isn’t a crime, you know? But me feeling sorry for the way some of y’all act won’t mean that that’s even remotely okay. Especially if you’re no longer in the intended audience for PJO age wise and should know better.

This isn’t a “white stans” only thing. I’ve seen and witnessed firsthand how people of color, mainly women of color, act the same or not even worse when it comes to her character. People have projected their problems and real-life occurring events into her character (I’m sure that she isn’t the only character nor that this is the only fandom where this is happening) and in some cases like I’ve said cannot separate their own personality from the fictional world. Fights with woc happened because of Annabeth fucking Chase. So many things have happened in the fandom the past few months, mostly due to people being forced staying at home because of the quarantine but I’d say it’s 10% on quarantine and 90% on people for acting up like this.

So here’s a little story: There was the act of Riordan blowing the fandom up because of his own stupidity and being unable to apologize for his mischaracterization and lack of research (the whole Piper fiasco) back in June (?) and admits the upset fandom, people on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord legit thought that none of that mattered and that the outcry was destroying Annabeth Chase’s birthday. That’s right. People thought that Annabeth Chase’s non-existing birthday because she’s a fictional character had a higher priority than the rupture and prevalent racism in the fandom. Okay. This isn’t a great look, Annabeth stans. And this of course pissed a lot of people off. I made a post about it and someone not only berated three other people on said post but no, we had a mighty argument which had disrupted many friendships in our circle which haven’t recovered until this very day. We both had our parts in it and no one is innocent. But the cause of this still remains Annabeth Chase or how people prioritize her non-existing well-being. Anyway. I’m getting agitated just thinking about it.

Let’s go back to the characterization thing with Annabeth. Let me remind you:

Annabeth Chase is an asshole. There I’ve said it in a post ages ago (too lazy to look it up, sorry) and I’ll say it again. And that’s not me insulting her. That’s me actually loving that about her. Annabeth is one of the very few unapologetic female characters that really showed all young readers across the world that you can be a girl, a badass, smart, strong, standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You don’t have to be nice. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t need a man in all cases but it’s also okay to accept help and defeat.

A large reason why I think she’s an incredibly important character in children’s literature/YA because many other novels (mostly (sadly)) have the “Oh, I’m a white skinny dark-haired girl that likes unconventional things like READING. I’m not like the other girls, that take care of themselves and pamper themselves by enjoying shopping and wearing make-up. No, I’d rather be one of the boys but a sweet cute little boy and not the jock fuck that drank vodka shots out of a filthy shoe once. Despite me calling myself hideous every man in a 10-kilometer radius falls in love with me and tells me I’m oh so sexy and by the way I’m only 16 years old” shit going on for no goddamn reason.

Yes, I do blame Twilight for this mostly in recent years, but this trope isn’t by any means knew. Pretty sure that you could even use classics as Pride and Prejudice and dissect them in the same manner (Bold statement: Lizzy Bennet is the OG Bella Swan. There. Go fight somewhere in the corner, people). The new wave of YA focuses on girls belittling themselves and only starting to believe in themselves because someone else (mostly the male love interest) tells them they’re worth it. And these books hit the mainstream because they’re incredibly bland and picture perfect white.

With Annabeth it’s different. She shows up for the job and is done with it. (Brie Larson would probably be the perfect in real life version of her. You either like or dislike her. Or you really don’t care). That is what is so refreshing about her. Her unapologetic nature. Can it be off-putting? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes! Hell, every time I read The Lightning Thief, I want to rip her goddamn head off. And it’s just so well written. Her shift from mistrusting Percy but secretly still believing in him to her opening up. Wow, Riordan did something right there.

Annabeth Chase isn’t a young character. She has existed along with PJO for 15 years. She’s on her way to the second decade. I’m pretty sure that with the success of Percy Jackson (and Harry Potter) many lives have been warped and shaped.

But when I say the problem lies mostly in the fandom, it doesn’t mean that Riordan’s completely innocent. The only problem that I have with Annabeth lies not truly with her but the fact that Riordan is only able to produce three variations of female characters:

The sweetheart (Hazel, Silena, Calypso, Hestia)

The strong feminist (Annabeth, Piper, Thalia, Reyna, Artemis)

The bitch (Drew, nearly every female goddess in the goddamn Riordanverse next to every female monster)

And these female characters only know three endings:

End up married with a mortgage, three kids, two dogs and a cat somewhere in Connecticut by the age of twelve

Get dumped into the hunt

Chill on Mount Olympus and only come down to be a nuisance and/or give a cryptic message before going back and doing a godly rave party or something

We know Annabeth as the badass strong female first (or the bitchy character we’re supposed to actually like. Choose your approach), the blueprint so to speak, so some of the other characters feel almost pale in comparison and almost not needed? Doesn’t mean that other characters can’t behave similarly, but it feels kind of redundant especially if their character arcs end in a rather anticlimactic way (Thalia, Reyna). The new additions are the much needed woc as the main story with PJO was inherently white (anyway stan black!Percy and Grover, folks). So it’s not to bash on the new characters, it’s more Riordan’s fault more than anything.

Since Riordan only knows three female character arcs it feels like he tried to copy the formula several ways with different nuances. Some more or less successful. This is where fandom actually comes in handy and helps create more distinguished and fleshed out characters in form of headcanons or fanfiction.

But even in these cases people still make it about Annabeth when it’s time for characters of colors to shine. Remember that whole spiel and discussion that broke out when people (Kal, diver-up, Caitlyn, Bee, reynaisalesbian, etc.) joked about or criticized that Annabeth thinks that she’s having it harder because she’s a blonde? In front of Hazel and Piper? If she would’ve been a real person that’s an invitation for getting decked. And then all hell broke loose because Annabeth stans couldn’t accept the fact that in the real world and/or in fictional worlds the woc/coc have it harder? That the white woman wasn’t the victim that needed the coddling? Yeah, that was mad pathetic.

I hope you people get my point?

Well fuck. I wrote so many things and have the feeling I’ve said nothing. Anyway, I hope I made sense. This is way too long.

TLDR: Chill about Annabeth please. She’s an important character but that doesn’t mean that everyone has to like her, regardless of being a character in the books or a reader/fan of PJO in real life. She isn’t nice or a sweetheart all the time. She also isn’t the monstrous asshole that some try to make out of her.

Peace out.

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :)  Part 3

You know getting dragged through a multi billion dollar corporations building to try and avoid your illegitimate father, a normal monday for most I’m sure.

First< Previous >Next

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

It’s official, I hate Adrien

Marinette groans, having been practically dragged out of bed for breakfast. Adrien was wisely backed up as far as he could in the elevator. She yawns, making it loud as possible and looking Adrien right in the eye.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out so late,” Tikki giggles, hidden in her scarf.

Yeah it turns out that ‘just need to help out one person’ turned into a it is now 3am and I am halfway across the city beating up a gang.

“At least the box was safe,” Marinette whispers back, she had crashed in Adrien's room, no matter how mad Lila would be, or because of it who knows.

And indeed Lila was mad. The second they step foot into the hotel restaurant the entire class turns to stare at them. Crowded around a smug looking Lila with tears rolling down her cheeks. Marinette just turns a sharp left to the coffee. It isn’t until she has downed half a cup and refilled it that she tries to look for her friends.

Chloe looks just as dead as her, so she sits next to her. Let the morning people talk, they were ready to pass out together.

“Kagami?”

“Yep, Adrien?”

“Yep,”

“Morning people,” They both sneer.

“Were you planning on sleeping all morning?” Kagami asks, eating breakfast like a normal person, what a jerk.

“Were you planning on watching me all morning?” Chloe half heartedly retorts.

“You are adorable when you’re sleeping,”

“Fuck you, I’m adorable all the time,”

“Chlo, language, please,” Marinette implores, nursing her giant cup.

“Shut up Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe snaps, face planting back into the table.

“She’s not that cute actually,” Kagami whispers to Adrien, “Wore a face mask she got green all over the bed,”

“I’ll get green all over you,” Chloe mumbles absentmindedly.

"Marinette,"

"Ah the storm is coming,took them long enough" She takes a gulp of burning coffee, "Yes Alya?"

"You cant just say that to a person," Alya tries to explain, as if talking down to a child, "Lila was up all night crying,"

"She probably just put on a recording and went soundly to sleep," Chloe scoffs, sleepily looking up from the table.

"I was with her all night!" Alya turns to Chloe, seething rage coming to the surface.

"Thats some impressive endurance," Marinette mutters, downing more coffee.

"You think she's been practicing?" Chloe smirks.

"This isn't-"

"Make sure she get's plenty of water," Marinette turns away, hoping the conversation would be over.

"Marinette!" Alya looks down at her the way Marinette often looks at her, the look at a dear friend who changed, "Can't you see you're hurting Lila?"

"Can't you see she's hurting me?" She covers that honestly by gulping down more coffee, she has not had enough for this conversation.

"You used to be so nice Marinette," Alya dodges the question, pointing to Chloe and Kagami instead, "Then you started spending time with these two, and, and you changed!"

"Believe what you want Alya," Marinette motions for her friends to stay calm, "But they stand by me when no one else will, especially you,"

"Thats because!- Marinette if you had just gotten to know Lila instead of being jealous this would have never happened," Alya looks down at her sadly, Marinette was sure Paris would have been up in flames somehow if she had ever trusted Lila, "If you just didn't spend time around these bullies everything could be the same, you wouldn't have become a bully too,"

"So what?" She spits bitterly, looking over at the table watching them, Lila looking disgruntled it wasn't an all out fight, "If I got up and joined that table right now, would everything go back to the way it was?"

"... No,"

Marinette’s pocket buzzes in a familiar sequence. Akuma alert.

"Ok then, not much point in arguing about it, I'm going to stay with my friends, the ones I can actually trust," Marinette quickly shuts down Alya's protest, "Now go get Lila some water,"

Alya walks off back to the table, everyone crowding around her. Marinette waits for the door to be clear, she has to leave before Alya finishes or the whole class will be breathing down her neck.

“Forgot something in my room,” Marinette slings on her back pack, “Be back soon,”

She was not back soon, she was not back soon at all. Luckily she should only be three minutes late for the bus-and nope they left, great. She’ll just have to catch up with the tour later.

Well, I had stuff to do anyways

She talks with the receptionist; her assistant should have sent her a prepared motorcycle to the hotel the day before. It’s a quick drive to the location she had selected specifically to be close to the hotel.

She puts on a simple domino mask before entering the building, she didn’t want anyone to leak her identity after all. Walking in she’s glad to see everything is not in disarray.

“MDC,” Her assistant, Liam walks up to her.

Liam was someone she met through Penny. He’s older than her and also acted as her guardian on most of her trips as MDC. He does know her civilian identity, which she trusted him completely to keep. She likes him because-

“Is that mine?” She snatches the cup of coffee as he passes it to her.

“Figured you needed it,” Liam smiles, wincing as she downs the burning liquid, it's fine she has a strong healing factor, “You said your bag was stolen? This should replace it, it’s most of what you had plus more,”

He rolls forward a pre packed suitcase.

“I would die without,” Marinette says in all seriousness, “So what's the damage?”

“No major problems so far, the security we hired is enough to scare away the smaller thugs,” Liam nods to some security personnel guarding each door, “They won't be enough if any super villains try to attack the actual show,”

“Mm, give them instructions on the night of the show they are only allowed to intercept small time, anything bigger they are not allowed to engage,” Marinette studies the room, there's great places to hide, friend or foe, “If they see anything they are simply to report it directly to me,”

“They can’t engage?” Liam looks around, trying to see what she is.

“They won't be able to stop them anyway, and there is no reason for them to die,”

“If you say so,” Liam leads her through the room where lights are being set up and walls are being painted, “So what's the plan if we do get attacked?”

“I’m sure Batman is going to have his eye on any big events,” Marinette approves of the color of the back wall, it looking even better in person, “Besides I’m planning on trying to intercept before any violence,”

“In other words you're going to make my job a lot more stressful,” Liam sighs, making a note or rather on his tablet.

“Not if I can help it,”

“You can’t,” Liam sighs again at her grin, “Didn’t you have a tour with your class today?”

“They left me,” Liam seems equally unsurprised, “But I should probably head for Wayne tower anyway,”

“Don’t get into trouble,”

“I never get into trouble,” Marinette smirks from the door, “Trouble drags me into it kicking and screaming,”

“More like keen and skipping,” Liam closes the door in her face.

Marinette strolls into the Wayne tower an hour late with Starbucks, she sees is her class, being a nuisance arguing with a tour guide.

“You cannot just leave a student alone in Gotham,” The tour guide all but yells at Madame Bustier.

“Marinette is very responsible, she can handle herself,” Madame Bustier more defends herself than Marinette.

“I don’t care how responsible your student is, that won't stop them from getting shot!” This time he does yell, “You need to go back and pray to god she’s alright and hasn't gotten lost for some murder to find!”

Alright time to break the tension

“Hey, what did I miss?” Marinette asks casually, Already sipping at her straw when all eyes turn to her.

“Marinette! How did you get here?” Madame bustier demands.

“I-”

“I think you mean ‘are you alright, I’m so sorry for leaving you behind,” The tour guide glowers, apparently threatening enough that Madame Bustier actually repeats him.

“I’m fine, I borrowed a bike from my friend in Gotham,”

“You don’t have a licence in Gotham,” Lila sneers triumphantly.

Oh look who actually did some research, how much digging did you do when I learnt how to ride a motorcycle

“I didn’t say it was a motorcycle,” That shut’s Lila up, “But yeah it is a motorcycle,

Worth it for that face

“Also I got my licence approved in America before I came,”

So worth that face

Lila opens her mouth, better than the flood gates, when the tour guide interrupts.

“Now that everyone is here,” He sends a smile to Marinette and a glare to Madame Bustier somehow at the same time, she gets the tinglily feeling of  miraculous holder, or maybe its just the caffeine, “We can start, my name is Dick I will be your tour guide today.

They follow Dick through the tour Marinette's group right behind Dick. She scribbled designs and took notes as he talked, asking her own questions. This got her dubbed Dicks favourite, and easy title to gain as the rest of the class lagged behind. Most were listening to Lila, only Max and Alix were straining to hear Dick over the chatter. Marinette would occasionally pick up a mention of the Wayne's and knew it wasn't related to the tour. She'd have to guess Lila was lying about either dating someone or saving their life, or because it's Lila probably both. A gutsy move in the Wayne tower she had to admit. Marinette could tell Dick was listening and would probably have that rumour make it back to the Wayne's themselves. Would the wrath of some of the richest and most powerful people be enough to stop her? not likely.

They split up for lunch at the cafeteria in the building. She saw the coffee machine and was about to make a bee line to it when Kagami pulled her back to eat some 'real food' whatever that is. She makes a break for it after eating the so called 'real food', right before the tour was about to restart. She reaches it as a familiar figure is also waiting.

"Hi Tim," She greets, getting him to actually jump, "You work here?"

"Hi! um-yeah," He looks over to her, "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" She takes the biggest travel cup they have available.

"Sn-nothing," Tim still looks uneasy, then his eyes lock onto the cup, "tired?"

"Was up till three am last night, plus jet lag?" She yawns, "Yeah I'm tired,"

"Then you'll want to put that cup back,"

"Hm why?"

he gets her answer when Tim ducks down, opening a hidden cupboard full of travel cups at least twice the size of her current one,

"Tim I love you," She fills up the giant cup, "You're my favourite person in Gotham as of right now,"

"Not Dick?"

"Eh, his puns are lacklustre," She shrugs, Tim spits out his drink, "You know Dick?"

"Yep, give him a hard time for me!" Tim calls over his shoulder, walking away.

"You got it!" She hurries in the opposite direction, late for the tour once again.

“Did you get another coffee?” Dick asks as they enter the PR department.

“They were serving them at lunch,” Marinette could almost laugh at how quickly he had begun to fret over her during the tour.

“I know, that was my brothers idea, or rather demand,” Dick sighs, someone else approaching the group to direct the tour.

“Your brother works here?”

“Sure does,”

“But you don’t”

This makes Dick pause, looking down at her as she sips at the coffee.

“What?”

“I mean you don’t work this job at least,” She shrugs, it wasn't hard to figure out.

“Why's that?”

“You seem uncomfortable, your charismatic but still lack the smoothness of a rehearsed tour, plus you seem offended that they are in the back chatting,” Marinette nods towards Lila and her posse, “Regular tour guides would be used to that,”

“You found me out,” Dick chuckles, “I’m just taking over for today,”

“Well I think you picked a bad class to do that for,” She looks over at most her class ignoring the speaker trying to get their attention.

“I think I picked the right one,” Dick says cryptically, then walks off to help herd the class.

“Alright you have to give me the recipe,” Marinette overhears from a nearby desk.

Someone is sitting on it eating a cookie, while the other taps away at her computer.

“Sorry no can do,” She shrugs, “I don’t know it,”

“How can you not know it, you baked them right?” He asks, trying to steal another one and getting his hand slapped away.

“Nope, new vigilante came in, beat up someone robbing my house and baked me cookies,”

“This is Gotham so I believe the first two,” He looks between her and the container, “But cookies?”

“They also gave me free therapy,” She shrugs, before tapping on the container,“And do you really believe I could make these?”

“Touche,” He smirks leaning back on the desk, “So who’s the new guy? With the Batclan?”

“No they said they were just passing through,” She doesn't look up from her computer, focusing intently on the screen, “Names Starling,”

“Never heard of them,”

“Neither, and I tried looking them up,” She sighs, pushing back from the computer in defeat, “Found someone, but it’s not them, actually couldn't find anything on them,”

“Weird,” He gets up from the desk, “Can’t imagine Batman is going to take kindly to a new vigilante running around,”

“Unless he adopts them,”

“That… yeah he probably will,”

"Oh no-CLAIRE" The speaker trying to wrangle her class stops, "We have a problem!"

"Sorry to cut this short," Claire doesn't look sorry at all, "Seems we have important matters to tend to,"

She follows Dick out of the department, ushering her class as she goes. Claire looks over at her like she has two heads, a mixture of impressed and pity, and perhaps a bit of jealously.

They get to go further up the building, to the higher floors. They reach a space that is mostly meeting rooms. He class decide to take advantage of Dick declaring they are completely sound proof, or maybe they took it as a challenge. Marinette is walking past a hall when someone leaning against the wall catches her eye.

“Auntie Selina?!”

They look around, only spotting Marinette seconds before they collide into a hug, she feels the tingling buzz of a true holder.

“Mari!” Selina picks her up and spins her around, no different from when she was five, “Oh, my love it’s so good to see you, when did you arrive in Gotham?”

Marinette watches as her smile morphs into horror.

“Wait, what are you doing in Gotham!?”

“It’s a class trip and- hey where are we going?” Her Auntie grabs her arm pulling her down the hall.

“Marinette!” Dick calls, walking around the corner, Selina makes a sharp turn down another corridor, “Wait!”

Selina is two steps away from running as she pulls Marinette through the maze of hallways.

“Auntie where are we going?”

“Down here,” She opens the door leading to a staircase, too narrow to be a fire exit.

“That’s not really what I was asking,”

Selina inputs a key code, the door swinging open as she is pulled into the room.

“Wait!” She gets pulled through another door just as quick “Was that wall full of weapons?”

“Just a picture sweetie,” She says sweetly, “Down these stairs,”

“Aunt Selina what are we running from?” They are running now, floor after floor.

“We’re not running from anything sweetie,” Selina speeds up, “I just wanted to show you a cool spot in Gotham,”

“Right,” Marinette raises an eyebrow, “I was actually with the class so maybe we could go later?”

“It closes in five minutes,”

“Like you wouldn’t just break in if we were going somewhere,”

“I promise I will take you somewhere nice,” She smiles back at Marinette, they reach the end of the stairs, coming to a garage of sorts, “If you promise to hurry up,”

“Sure-” She does a double take, of the room, “Hold up are those costumes?”

“Collectors stuff, you know,” They are surrounded by bat themed... everything, “Rich people,”

“Right and how do you know this?”

“I-” She hesitates, eyes drifting, “Hey look, the exit!”

They all out sprint towards the exit. Selina reaches out to open the door a second after it swings open.

“Selina,” The man smiles at Selina as she runs into him.

“Hey Bruce,” Selina jumps back, trying to hide Marinette behind her.

“Where are you going?” Bruce looks behind her at Marinette, who gives a little wave.

“Out! Got to hurry!” She grabs Marinette's arm again, trying to pull her around Bruce.

“Is something wrong?” Bruce grabs Selina's shoulders to keep her still and looking at him.

“Nope nothings wrong,” She wriggles out of his grasp, trying again to pull Marinette away.

“Ok then,” Bruce still looks worried but turns to Marinette instead, “Hello I’m Bruce Wayne, Selina finance,”

“YOU’RE HER WHAT!?”

“Snitch,” He Auntie spits out venomously.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Marinette asks her with the biggest grin.

“Surprise,” Selina gives half heated jazz hands.

“Wait! Whens the wedding? Do You have a dress? I’ll make one!” She deicides, brining out her sketchbook, drawing different designs, “What's the theme? Never mind tell me on the way to the fabric store, I’ll sketch up some designs,”

“Darling, please-” Selina is now getting pulled along.

“Oh! I’ll call Papa! I’m sure he’ll want to make your cake! We have to hurry, come on lets go!” They're already out the door, Marinette waves turning back to Bruce, “Nice meeting you!”

“What just happened?” Bruce asks Dick as he runs up next to him.

“She kidnapped one of the students on tour,”

“Who is now making her wedding dress,” Bruce nods, not understanding anything

“Did I miss something?”

I think we all did

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

Taglist:

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16  @caffeinetheory   @g-arya   @Maribat-2k20   @ladybug-182    @Actual-disaster-human    @fusser90   @messrs-weasley   @soap-lady  @paintedhope7   @zeneralla    @mochegato     @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178  @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen   @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster  @Purplegeekypanda @awkward0ghostfan @theymakeupfairies @tikki-marinette @insane-fangirl-of-everything @elmokingkong @inarachi02 @slytherinhquinn @moongoddesskiana @dast218 @buginetye @redscarlet95

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

Noticing the Little Things

-shows up a week late to Kiss Ryuji Day with Starbucks- I’ve contributed to a fandom event! mo you didn’t contribute shit I’ve contributed! Took a break from Misguided Wingman, so instead of a WIP Wednesday, y’all are getting 6.6k words of fluff instead!

Under a cut cause that’s a little much, and link to AO3 in the reblogs cause tumblr does terrible things to posts with links in them.

Hey, come meet my mom!

Ryuji had sprung the offer on him last minute via dead of the night text. It wasn’t as though he’d been trying to catch Ren off guard intentionally; it was more a matter of this being her first full day off in nearly a month that hadn’t fallen through for one reason or another. Ren had quickly learned that those sorts of days were few and far between, and notoriously difficult to plan around because of it. Even rarer were the days where both Sakamotos’ schedules lined up for a full day of quality time, especially now with the addition of Phantom Thievery. And Ryuji had offered to share this once in a blue moon opportunity with his best friend. Naturally, even as tired as he’d been when the message came through, Ren had jumped at the chance. For once it (mostly) didn’t have anything to do with his crush on his best friend that could have been viewed from space, Ren was just excited to finally meet the woman whose praises Ryuji’d been singing since they met.

The next morning, Ryuji had texted him again uncharacteristically bright and early--especially for a Sunday--hoping to put their heads together for something nice to do for her. He didn’t want her to do a bunch of work on one of her rare days off and Ren didn’t blame him one bit. He pitched the idea of takeout; no effort to cook, no dishes to wash, only trash to take out after. Ryuji shot it down, hesitant to admit that they couldn’t quite afford enough takeout for all three of them this late in the month and even less willing to ask Ren to cover the whole thing. Which meant going out to eat somewhere was probably also a no-go. And then Ren was struck by divine inspiration.

Or rather, he looked down at the breakfast that Sojiro had so kindly prepared for him before Leblanc opened. And then he texted Ryuji.

What if I made curry?

And that was how he ended up spending the rest of his morning at the grocery store, picking through produce with such a critical eye that it would have brought a tear to Sojiro’s. He’d assured Ryuji several times over that it was no trouble, he needed the practice anyway and he’d gotten some sizable bonuses from a couple of his jobs, so the shopping was no issue. Ren sent the list of what he needed and, after a little more convincing, Ryuji had sent back a list of what they didn’t already have in the apartment, as well as a promise to have the kitchen ready when he arrived and to do dishes after all of his friend’s hard work. On top of the rest of his list, Ren added a nice tuna filet for Morgana, who’d be stuck in Yongen all day rather than risk getting anyone in trouble for bringing the not-a-cat to the Sakamoto apartment.

Ren double checked his bags and tried to shake off the feeling that he was missing something while Morgana halfheartedly berated him between bites of fish for being left behind. Halfway down the stairs to the cafe, it hit Ren and he couldn’t help but feel a little dumb for forgetting. His thumbs skated over his phone screen to ask Ryuji a question, only to get a question himself from Sojiro.

“Got everything you need to impress your mother-in-law, kid?” His tone was teasing as he looked over the boy’s armful of groceries. Ren sputtered an objection that was less actual coherent words and more disconnected, indignant noises, red as the bell peppers he’d selected as his caretaker chuckled. His phone buzzed as Ryuji’s answer came in.

“Actually…” Ren managed after the worst of the heat faded from his cheeks. “I was wondering if I could borrow a couple of things?”

-----

“Out.” Ren commanded, brandishing a freshly washed carrot like a dagger and flicking the water off of it at his friend.

“Hey! It’s my kitchen!” Ryuji argued but stepped back anyways with his hands up in a vain attempt to shield himself from the droplets.

“They’re my groceries. Go sit, I’m cooking.” Ren retorted and turned back to the cutting board. Sakamoto-san’s laugh could be heard from the living room, not that that was very far. It was a small apartment and the kitchen and living room weren’t so much two separate rooms as they were one room about the size of Leblanc’s attic interrupted by a short stretch of countertop. When he’d first come in, Sakamoto-san had scooped up the groceries from Ren’s arms before he’d gotten half a word of greeting out, Ryuji had dragged him off for a quick tour of the apartment, and he’d come back to everything he’d need laid out in a neat array next to the stove in the five minutes he’d been distracted.

“He fusses if he doesn’t get to help.” She explained while Ren worked. “He does it to me, too, y’know.” He couldn’t help but wonder with a roll of his eyes where ever could his best friend have gotten that habit from?

“Oh I fuss if I don’t get to help?” The blond asked dryly and then helpfully voiced Ren’s inner sarcastic inquiry: “Wonder where I picked that up?” A smile found its way onto Ren’s face as they continued bantering back and forth while he worked, Sakamoto-san sipping on tea in front of the television and Ryuji leaning on the counter from the living room side to watch his best friend cook.

It was comfortable, but not quite in the same way Leblanc had become; the cafe was a place to rest, to breathe, to hide. His attic bedroom felt undeniably safe, but was somehow paradoxically isolated from the world around it and almost entirely devoid of privacy. The apartment, though… With the sound of the tv providing soft background noise to Ryuji and his mother’s easy conversation and the smell of curry spices filling every corner of the small space, it felt safe in a way that felt like home, in a way the attic hadn’t quite managed yet, in a way his own home hadn’t really felt since he was a little kid. Something tense in Ren’s chest unwound and he hadn’t realized he was humming until Ryuji and Sakamoto-san had stopped talking to listen. It wasn’t even particularly good, at least as far as he was concerned, but it was the only way to get rid of the Velvet Room’s mysterious song when it got stuck in his head like it lived there. The silence stretched for an uncomfortable beat when he realized he had an audience.

“Um.” He glanced up from the frying pan for a moment, then quickly back down to it to hide his blush after meeting two matching sets of wide, brown eyes watching him. Nothing like an unblinking stare to make one self-conscious. “S-sorry. Did I interrupt you two?”

“Oh no, not at all! You have a lovely voice, Ren. Don’t let us stop you.” Sakamoto-san insisted with a kind smile that turned a little too knowing as she glanced over at her son.

“Yeah, man, you ain’t gotta quit ‘cause of us.” Ryuji affirmed, still watching him with a grin and a warm, wide-eyed look that the other boy couldn’t quite put a name to. “And she’s right, you’re pretty good. Hell, maybe we shoulda gone to that karaoke place for real the one time so you could show off.” Heat rose to Ren’s face that had nothing to do with the food he was cooking.

“Well, we could always go back, make that our next celebration after-- uh,” Ren quickly changed course before he accidentally blurted out ‘after the next change of heart’ in front of Sakamoto-san, “after exams. Get everyone together, take turns picking songs, that sort of thing.” Ren suggested. “Of course, that means you’d have to sing, too.”

“No way--!” The blond tried to object before his mother cut him off in her own excitement.

“Oh that sounds so fun!” She grinned more widely, with a mischievous gleam in her eye. Ren had seen an identical look on her son’s face enough times to slightly dread whatever she was about to say. “Maybe you boys could do a duet? I know a few songs that’d--”

“Mommmm!” Ryuji groaned indignantly while Ren smothered a laugh and prayed any color in his cheeks could be written off as a result of leaning over the hot stove.

-----

Ren watched a flurry of movement from where he’d gotten up to stir the curry and break out the pour-over setup. Boss had only let him borrow this one because it had been chipped a few years prior--still functional, but no longer restaurant quality--and because Ren had laid the flattery on especially thick when he begged to use it.

“Ooh, you’re gonna make coffee? I’ll be right back, I know what else’ll go perfect with it!” Ryuji had jumped up and all but bolted for the door. “Be right back!”

“Wait, I was just--” He tried to tell the blond, but the door had already snapped shut before he could finish, “--setting it up.” He sighed and offered a helpless shrug to Sakamoto-san. “It’s supposed to go with the curry, but that’s going to be simmering for a while.”

Sakamoto-san chuckled and smiled fondly in the direction her son had disappeared. “You know how excitable he can be, and he’s been looking forward to introducing us for a couple of months now.” She stood and stretched with a groan, then walked over and leaned on the counter. Ren could practically feel her gaze on him as he worked; even with as warm and casual as the look on her face was, something in her eyes felt scrutinizing. He was being sized up with no idea as to why. Sakamoto-san’s smile stayed in place, as gentle as before when she asked, “why not brew us each a cup anyway? Ryuji’s been raving about the one you made him and how well it’d go with old lady Ueda’s ginger peach danishes since the beginning of summer. And since he’s even less of a coffee drinker than I am, I’m eager to see the master at work.”

“If you want to see the master at work, you’ll have to come by Leblanc and meet So-- um, Sakura-san.” He explained with a nervous, slightly forced chuckle of his own. After a moment of internal debate, Ren nodded. “But I did bring enough for everyone to have a couple of cups. Couldn’t hurt to see if you like it as much as Ryuji does. Maybe I’ll impress you just as much, Sakamoto-san.” That had been exactly why he was doing this, why he had worked so hard to convince Boss to part with even a little of his cafe equipment.

She barked a laugh at that and startled Ren enough that he nearly knocked over the bag of coffee he’d traded away a full week of work for. “Two things. Three, actually. One, please just call me Hana. Because, two, I’ve been impressed with you for months, kid. And, three, don’t beat yourself up if you can’t impress me as much as Ryuji ‘cause that’s gonna be an awfully high bar to clear. I don’t know exactly what you did to do it, but you pulled him out of…” Hana-san trailed off with a sigh, and then continued with a slightly thick edge to her voice, “out of a pretty dark place, y’know. My boy adores you.”

With that and the overwhelming warmth in her eyes, Ren could feel his own throat tightening, but he managed to choke out a weak, “O-okay.” And then he couldn’t force anything else out. How were you supposed to react to hearing your probably-unrequited-crush’s mom tell you that said crush adored you? As if she could read the question on his face, she reached over to clap him on the shoulder encouragingly.

“Don’t worry about sayin’ anything, My sunshine’s told me you’re not much of a talker. Just make sure you keep showin’ him how much he means to you too, alright?”

“I will. Thank you, Hana-san.” He finally replied and got the same annoyed frown he’d gotten from Ryuji two days into their friendship, when he’d met his new nickname with Ryuji’s family name. Although responding to Renren with Sakamoto back then had been an attempt at teasing on Ren’s part, calling Sakamoto-san by just her given name felt like too much.

The door creaked open and pulled her attention off of Ren as Ryuji came bouncing through, nearly forgetting to kick off his shoes in his excitement to deliver the prized pastries.

“You weren’t kidding when you said this one was formal, sunshine.” She sighed. “And damn, I’ve never seen you make that trip so fast. You that excited to show off to your Renren? ” Ryuji squawked in offense and Ren could feel his face flame at how she’d emphasized his nickname.

“N-nah, he could probably sense that I was just about to ask about embarrassing baby pictures is all.” Ren deflected as he went back to prepping their coffee.

The only thing better than the look of utter betrayal Ryuji gave him was the one of unbridled delight on Hana-san’s face.

-----

Dinner had passed cheerfully, if somewhat raucously, as Hana-san and Ryuji regaled their guest with stories about Ryuji’s childhood, and the boys entertained her with stories about their time together since the beginning of the school year. Ren felt himself opening up more and more easily as the meal had gone by and even shared a few stories from his time working at Leblanc, as well as the specifics behind balancing the night’s coffee and curry. As per usual, Ryuji didn’t really seem to be absorbing the specifics, but seemed more than happy to watch his friend talk about something he was enthusiastic about. Ren was even openly laughing by the end of dinner while he and Ryuji recounted the time they had met up for lunch after separately incurring Ushimaru’s wrath by falling asleep in class, then bursting out laughing at each other’s identical chalk bruises on their foreheads. They didn’t mention that each of them still had the other’s half of the subsequent selfie set as their phone’s home screen.

Afterwards, the atmosphere in the apartment settled a little when Ryuji shooed both his mother and his best friend out of the kitchen to sort out leftovers and wash dishes. In the meantime, Ren and Hana-san sat in comfortable quiet in the living room while half-watching the talk show on tv and enjoying the last of the coffee and danishes. Ryuji had been spot-on, Ren noted, the flavor paired beautifully with what he’d been secretly calling the Kidd Blend since he first got his right hand man’s seal of approval. As per usual, even if Ryuji didn’t have a head for the specifics, his instincts were unparalleled.

“He’s got good taste, right?” Hana-san remarked as she watched Ren’s thoughtful chewing. He nodded. Again with that uncanny ability to read him; it would have been unsettling if he hadn’t already been used to it from Ryuji and just figured that she was where he got it from. She cracked a smile after taking another sip from her coffee and said, “I gotta admit, I was skeptical when he said it was good enough to go with our favorite dessert. Figured he was just talking you up again ‘cause I’ve never had a cup of coffee I actually liked. I only drink it if I need the caffeine fix. But this? This is damn good.” Hana-san drained the cup and let out a satisfied sigh before she settled back a little further into her seat.

At that point Ren had been keeping a running tally of how many little gestures and features Hana-san and her son had in common. Despite their differences physically--where Ryuji was tall and all lean, hard lines, Hana-san was considerably shorter than her son and built soft and sturdy--there was no denying they were mother and son with as many quirks and features as they had in common. The same warm, brown eyes that tilted upwards just a little at the outer corners; the same bright smile that lit up their entire faces and laughter that filled every corner of the room; the same animated manner of speaking, all open expression and wild gestures to tell a story; the same bright quality to their voices, loud and boisterous without being overwhelming. The same way of making him feel like he’d known them all his life within the span of a few hours. That last one was about when he’d lost count, and therefore couldn’t say where he was when he noted that even with the difference in their specific posture, the two even relaxed the same way when they sat. Ryuji tended to sprawl out and Hana-san seemed more comfortable curling up when she sat, but they both had something loose and open about the way they sat, something oddly approachable.

“You’re always welcome to come by Leblanc, Hana-san.” Ren said with a smile, then added somewhat proudly, “Although I’ll have to direct Boss since Ryuji only gets coffee when I make it.”

“We’ll see if I get some time. And seriously, kid, just Hana is fine. I’ve heard enough about you from Ryuji that I feel like I already know you.” She insisted.

“Wh- really?” His head snapped up from his drink. He knew that he and Ryuji were best friends, probably the closest friends that either of them had ever had. But he hadn’t actually thought about the fact that that meant Ryuji talked about him to other people. It was probably silly the way something that obvious could warm him from the inside and fill his chest with butterflies, but it did.

“Oh yeah. Honestly, I knew I liked you before he ever even said your name. It was like out of nowhere his grades started picking back up, I wasn’t getting any more calls about him skipping classes, he seemed motivated again, like he hadn’t been since…” Hana-san looked over at Ryuji, busy and oblivious in the kitchen, as her face darkened and her voice dropped before she continued, “since before that sonofabitch broke my boy’s leg.” The bitterness passed after a moment and she fixed Ren with a gaze brimming with that same overwhelming warmth and kindness from before. “I knew that whoever it was that brought my boy’s smile back… that was someone I wanted to meet, y’know? That was someone I wanted to thank. So, thanks Ren. You brought my sunshine back.”

“I… You’re welcome.” Ren mumbled. “It’s not…” He stopped himself from saying it wasn’t a big deal because that definitely wasn’t true. “I mean, he did just as much for me.” Then he took a sip from his coffee, at a loss for what else to say.

“I’m sure he did, he’s a good boy. But this is me thanking you, not him.” She shrugged as she watched him drink and her smile went crooked as her voice took on a teasing lilt. “Still, I guess if Hana is too informal for you, you could always just call me Mom. Might as well get in the habit now, right?”

So. Hot coffee coming out of one’s nose was very painful. That was the immediate sensation that momentarily distracted Ren from the shock of Hana-san’s statement. She jumped up in surprise as he choked on his drink, then quickly grabbed a dish towel from the nearby counter and handed it to him. He coughed a few times and wiped at the surprisingly little amount of coffee that he’d gotten on himself, before finally clearing his throat and wheezing out, “Excuse me?”

Hana-san was very clearly trying not to laugh at him while she gave him another of those warm smiles that just confused him this time. “I know you two are dating, I’m not blind, kid.” Ren’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Hard. It prompted another coughing fit and Hana-san couldn’t hold back from laughing this time. “Even if I was, I still would’ve picked up on it. You two are too obvious. It’s sweet, really. The way you light up when you’re watchin’ him? And the first time I finally got your name out of him, you were suddenly the only thing he wanted to talk about. ‘ Hey mom, I’m hanging out with Ren today, don’t worry ‘bout dinner for me, we’re gonna get ramen. Man, can’t believe Ren’s never been to a real arcade before. His hometown didn’t really have one, so I’m gonna show him my favorite tomorrow. Hey mom, me and Ren are going to the gym today, yeah we’re gonna be running, yeah I’m running again, didn’t I tell you? Nah, I don’t need anything for my birthday, I know money’s tight this week and Renren’s taking me fishing so it’s all good. Hey, did you know Ren hung the moon? Ain’t that sweet of him? I should do somethin’ to say thanks.’ Like I said, kid. Ryuji adores you.” Hana finished softly. Almost ruefully, but he missed that part. Ren’s head was spinning, out of sheer confusion and excitement and terror and hope that he’d been aggressively stomping down for months, as well as the fact that all the blood in his body seemed determined to rush to his face all at once.

“He… told you we’re dating?” He managed hoarsely, eyes flicking to Ryuji still washing dishes and still completely oblivious to their conversation with the water running. Did… Had Ryuji confessed to him without Ren realizing? Had those moments he’d dismissed as wishful thinking, bein’ free and my place is next to you, actually been what he hadn’t dared even hope for?

Had he been dating Ryuji Sakamoto this entire goddamn time without even realizing it?

“Well, no. At first I thought it was because he was nervous about coming out to me. I did what I could to let him know it wasn’t an issue, and since he never really changed how he talked about you, I figured he must have just been so excited to have such a wonderful boyfriend that he just... forgot to tell me.”

Ren barked out a rough laugh and then winced at the way it grated on his scalded sinuses. “Then that would make two of us, Hana-san. If I had realized this was that kind of ‘come meet my mom,’ I would’ve convinced Sojiro to let me bring one of the top-shelf blends.” A hollow laugh escaped him as Hana-san’s face fell.

“Oh. Oh… Ah shit, I’m so sorry! I went and made things awkward with him now, haven’t I?” She winced apologetically and looked down at the dishtowel when Ren handed it back. “And wasted that fantastic coffee on top of it, too. You’re sure you’re okay?” Ren waved the apology off.

“It’s fine, please don’t worry about it, Hana-san.” She frowned at him and he finally relented. “Hana. I just... have a couple questions for him now. That I have no idea how I’m gonna ask.” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at Ryuji again, who was nearly done cleaning up the kitchen.

“Well, good luck when you do. But I don’t think you’re gonna need it.” She assured him with a wink and a gentle clap on the shoulder. “So, if that wasn’t the top shelf stuff, what was it? Besides still pretty damn killer, obviously.”

“Huh? Oh. Second from the top. Still took some serious convincing and I’ll be working behind the counter at Leblanc all week to make up for it.” Ren flashed Hana a tired smile. “Worth it, though. Every non-coffee-drinker I impress is a win in my book.”

Her laugh in response took the sting out of his embarrassment. And his slightly burnt throat. “Well then, guess I will have to find a minute to come by, enjoy me some coffee, curry, and a captive audience.” Hana grinned and Ren couldn’t help but return it.

“I’ll look forward to the company.”

-----

Rather than walk straight to the closest station, Ren and Ryuji had decided to take the scenic route and loop through a nearby park once first. Ren stuck close to the blond, given that he was a lot more familiar with the area as one of his go-to running practice routes. That and, while it was refreshingly cool for Ryuji outside the apartment, Ren ran colder than his friend and was starting to get uncomfortably chilly. As if on cue, Ryuji fell into step right next to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, and Ren felt himself immediately relax into the touch to leech his right hand man’s body heat.

“I’m really glad you finally got to meet my mom. Glad you hit it off with her, gotta admit I was kinda nervous at first.” Ryuji finally said.

“Really? Why?”

“Well you know after my old man took off, it was just me ‘n her, yeah?” Ren nodded. “Even when I had other friends before… everything, Mom was always my best friend. Lame, right?” Ryuji gave a halfhearted, self-deprecating laugh. Ren nudged his shoulder a little more firmly against the blond, not willing to let the disparagement pass uncontested.

“Not at all, she’s pretty great. Wish I was half as close with my folks as you two are.”

“Right. Yeah, she is. Anyways, yeah, mom was always my best friend. So when you turned up--and it’s not like she said anything so I could be wrong--but when you turned up I think she was a little jealous? Not like tellin’ me not to hang out with you or anythin’, she’s been real glad to see me with friends again! But I was kinda worried she felt…” The blond trailed off, waving his free hand vaguely as he tried to come up with the right word.

“Pushed aside?” Ren supplied.

“Exactly! So even after I knew she’d warmed up to you after hearin’ about you so much, I was kinda nervous that she wouldn’t get along with you. So yeah, I’m glad you guys hit it off.”

“I’m glad, too.” He couldn’t help but wonder if Hana had told Ryuji what she’d told him, how she knew she liked Ren as soon as Ryuji started getting back on his feet again. There was no way she’d told him she was certain they were dating, although that probably would have made bringing it up easier for Ren, if no less awkward. It wasn’t as though he could just blurt out ‘hey are we dating, your mom was pretty convinced I’m your boyfriend and I’m really hoping she was right’. Well okay, he could if he could work up the nerve, but that was a pretty big ‘if.’

“Hey.” Ren could hear the frown in Ryuji’s voice and didn’t have time to react before his glasses were being tugged off his face and tucked into the collar of the other boy’s shirt. “You’re doin’ that thing again, where you’re overthinkin’ somethin’ and you disappear behind your damn glasses. What’s up?”

Ren blinked up at Ryuji a few times, barely registering that, huh, that was a habit of his wasn’t it, before the words “Why sunshine?” fell out of his mouth.

“Huh?” Ryuji fixed him with a puzzled look that shifted into one of flushed embarrassment as the question registered. “Oh, right, the nickname. Uh, my hair, mostly.”

“Makes sense. This is gonna sound dumb, but even though I know you bleach it, I was still surprised that your mom’s brunette.” Ren admitted. “I guess part of me was expecting her to be blonde, too.”

“I was actually aimin’ for her color the first time we bleached mine.” Ryuji admitted, then frowned like he hadn’t meant to say anything.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I didn’t… I wasn’t always so gung-ho about the whole ‘fine, you’re gonna call me a punk, I’ll give you an effin’ punk’ thing, y’know? That didn’t really click all the way into place ‘til I got Kidd.” The blond took a slightly shaky breath and exhaled deeply before shooting his friend a questioning glance. Ren nodded for him to continue. He wasn’t going to push and Ryuji knew that, but he was definitely curious. “Right. So, this was back when my leg was still healin’ last year. Had a rough day on it, came home feelin’ like ten kindsa shit, like bad enough I went straight to the bathroom and threw up I hurt so damn bad. And as I’m washin’ my face after, I catch how my face looks in the mirror and… and I look like just as much shit as I feel.” Ren could feel how sharply Ryuji spat the hollow, bitter laugh before he continued, “specifically, I looked just like my old man whenever he was hungover. Effin’ hated it, seein’ a face I had damn near blocked out ‘cause it’d been so long since I saw it just starin’ back at me from the mirror.” Ren wrapped his arm around his best friend’s shoulders the same way Ryuji’s was draped across his, then gave his best shot at a comforting squeeze.

Ryuji shot him a crooked smile and brightened as he kept talking. “Anyways, I told Mom what happened and asked if we could dye it the same color as hers. And she was totally down for it. So she went out, got a bleach kit, annnnnd when we used it, we totally overshot it. I lost track of time and turned my hair bright freakin’ yellow and patchy as hell, too,” he laughed. “And man, we laughed harder than we had in months at that. She spent the rest of the night callin’ me sunshine to mess with me, but it was nice seein’ her really smile again, y’know? So when she asked me the next day what kind of dye I wanted to cover it up with, I told her to grab more bleach and we’d try and even it out cause the blond grew on me. And honestly? The name did, too.” Ryuji shook Ren’s shoulder in warning. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

“My lips are sealed. It suits you, though. The name,” Ren affirmed and ruffled his hand through the shock of surprisingly soft, blond hair, “and the look.” Ryuji swatted his hand away with a laugh and let it settle back on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Long as I can get away with it, I’m keepin’ it.” Ryuji stretched and fixed Ren with a look. “Aight, now what were you actually thinkin’ about?”

“Uh, w-well.” Shit. Nothing else came to mind through the haze of mild panic that struck Ren. No excuses, no delays, no deflections. Oh, to hell with it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Time to just rip the bandage off. “Your mom thinks we’re dating and you just forgot to tell her because you got caught up in being excited about it.”

“WHAT?!” Ryuji yelped and jumped back like he’d been burned. Not the best reaction, but Ren was already determined to just get it all out.

“Yeah. And as soon as she put it like that, I suddenly wasn’t sure that I just… hadn’t realized I’d accepted a confession at some point.” He explained, eyes fixed on the path in front of them. Ryuji laughed, high and nervous, bordering on slightly hysterical.

“Wh-when would I have even--”

“My place is next to you.” Ren’s heart was hammering in his chest hard enough that he was worried it might crack a rib or five.

“...oh. Right. Okay, yeah, that’s… that’s fair.” Ryuji had stopped walking and was frowning at the concrete as he scuffed the toe of his shoe at it. “So you been tryin’ to let me down easy or somethin? Don’t worry about it, dude, that wasn’t…” He trailed off and Ren finally turned to face him. The pang that squeezed his heart left him breathless when he saw the look of utter disappointment on Ryuji’s face. Ren was frozen, even as something in the back of his head screamed at him to fix it before Ryuji got the wrong idea. The blond straightened up with a laugh that sounded more like a scoff and ran a hand through his hair. “Man, that explains all the ‘you know you can tell me anything’ conversations she’s been tryin’ to have lately. I was worried she’d caught on about the Phantom Thief stuff, but she just… God, do I even wanna know what you told her?”

Ren practically jumped at the opening. “I told her if I’d known it was that kind of ‘hey come meet my mom’ that I would have brought better coffee.” He tried to look his best friend in the eye as he confessed, but just… couldn’t. Better to focus on getting the words out however he could. “I haven’t been trying to figure out how to let you down easy, kind of the opposite, actually.” He did his best to ignore the quiet intake of breath that got, or the way Ryuji tensed in his peripheral vision. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask and bracing myself for when you shot me down. I… I really like you.”

“...forreal?” Ryuji’s voice was soft with disbelief.

“Yeah.” Ren’s voice cracked, nerves finally getting the better of him. But he could at least answer, even if he still couldn’t look the other boy in the eye.

“You… You like me? Like, like-like me?”

“Yes. Have for a while, now. I might... “ Ren cleared his throat and tried again. “I might be a little past just like at this point, honestly.”

A breathless, disbelieving chuckle followed by, “Seriously?”

“Mhm.” A stiff nod.

“Why?” Ryuji’s tone had escalated from disbelief to full-on incredulity, sapping away all of Ren’s nerves in favor of sheer indignance when he whipped around to his best friend.

“How could I not?!” Ren nearly shouted, just self-aware enough to be glad they were alone. “You’re brave, so goddamn brave and so goddamn kind, protecting people--total strangers, sometimes--and expecting nothing back! You’re ridiculously good-looking and have an amazing smile and the best laugh I’ve ever heard, not to mention you’re just so damn compassionate? Quick to help people and even quicker to apologize when you mess up, even with just the little mistakes, and you always mean it and try to do better. And I’ve never in my life met someone as loyal as you, never had someone that I could rely on the way I rely on you!” Ren ranted, slightly light-headed from how quickly the words just poured out of him. “For fuck’s sake, you saved my life when I was just some guy off the street! The Phantom Thieves wouldn’t exist at all without you, and I… I would have spent the rest of the year, maybe even the rest of my life hiding if I hadn’t met you--”

“Hey.”

“Huh?” When had Ryuji stepped so close? How had Ren not noticed those warm, calloused hands cupping his jaw and tipping his head back up to look back at a face that wore an achingly-sweet expression of pure admiration, tempered only by the hint of apprehension at the corners of those warm, brown eyes Ren was such a sucker for?

“I’m gonna kiss you now. Izzat okay?”

“Please.” Ren whispered as his heart jumped up into his throat and Ryuji’s flushed face drew closer.

Both boys’ eyes fluttered shut at the first brush of lips, soft and deliberate. The second was just as gentle, just as careful, even as Ryuji’s fingers twitched against Ren’s jaw like it was taking all of his self control not to just dive in. Like he’d been thinking about how to do it right, planning it for a while, and that thought made Ren’s stomach flip. He slid one hand up the nape of Ryuji’s neck and buried his fingers in his hair at the third kiss, and wrapped his free arm around the blond’s waist to pull him closer partway through the fourth. From there, he lost count. It was the seventh or eighth kiss that found him pressed up against a nearby tree, and something like the thirteenth before nerves gave way to excitement and one of them deepened the kiss. He stopped counting entirely after the cautious sweep of Ryuji’s tongue over his lower lip temporarily shorted out his higher brain functions and pulled an embarrassingly needy sound from the back of his throat. Somewhere in the distantly coherent part of his brain, Ren made a mental note to start buying gum or mints because coffee-and-curry breath was… not great for kissing. It still took the two of them several minutes to break apart because kissing Ryuji, finally actually kissing him, was so much better than he’d imagined, even after months of daydreaming.

“So…” Ren sighed against the corner of Ryuji’s mouth, their foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page, no room for confusion--”

“Oh my god Renren, seriously?!” The words didn’t have any bite, being equal parts incredulity and laughter as Ryuji shoved gently at Ren’s shoulder.

“I just wanna be sure!” Ren laughed right back.

“Are you effin’ serious, how can you not be-- fine.” Ryuji pulled him into a tight hug, peppering his face with kisses as he spoke. “Ren Amamiya,” kiss, “will,” kiss, “you be,” kiss, “my,” kiss, “boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Ren turned his head to catch another kiss that Ryuji had aimed at his temple, sliding his tongue into the blond’s mouth and kissing him hard enough that his best friend was scarlet when he pulled away. “I would love to.”

Then he kissed Ryuji again. And again. And again.

-----

Eventually, Ren and Ryuji had broken apart long enough to return his glasses and get him on a train back to the cafe. He had been grinning like a dork for the entire ride and practically floated back into Leblanc when he got back, earning a weird look from Morgana on the counter. Sojiro was too busy to notice, nearly done cleaning up with most of the dishes already put away and the next day’s curry prepped and simmering. Ren stepped in, grabbed the washcloth off the side of the sink and started wiping down the counter.

“I can finish cleaning, you go ahead and get home to Futaba.” He insisted.

“Well you’re in a good mood. I take it you impressed the mother-in-law?” Boss teased.

“Yep, I think I did!” Ren chirped from behind the counter, then tried not to laugh. Sojiro did a double take and his face flickered through several expressions at once--sly and teasing, smug triumph, confusion, recognition, and further confusion--as he realized his ribbing hadn’t landed like it had just that afternoon.

Eventually he let out a “hmph” before probably deciding not to ask. “Don’t forget to lock up, and put back everything you borrowed, alright? I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ren waved as the door jangled shut behind him and hummed cheerfully as he worked.

“I take it you two idiots finally figured it out?” Morgana asked and Ren only grinned. At that point his face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. “Blech, glad I missed out.” The cat stretched languidly before hopping down and trotting up the stairs. “Congratulations, though. Taste notwithstanding, I’m happy for you two.”

“So you don’t want the play-by-play?” Ren called after him.

“I will steal your bed and make you sleep in a booth!”

[zambie-trashart]

I Don’t Own an IPhone: Wanna Trade? Chapter 3

Masterlist

Previous: Nino put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s take you to your hotel and get you settled it,” Nino said and they left the comfort of the apartment. All Jon could think about was how bad he felt for poor Marinette.

.........

Chapter 3: Coffee Shops Are Great For Exposition

Marinette yawned stretching out in her hotel bed before looking over at the clock which read a bright 8:50 making her bluebelle eyes widen as she jumped out of bed getting dressed in a red leather jacket and tight black pants with brown combat boots. She ran out of the hotel room combing her hair before throwing it up into a messy bun. 

The Wayne Tech phone felt heavy in her purse as she recalled the previous day’s events. Meeting Jon was just her luck, sweet american boy with just as horrible luck as her’s getting stuck with her phone while she was stuck with his. And of course he was the hero who was supposed to be meeting with her boyfriend, just her luck. Marinette turned the corner bumping into someone before falling to the ground.

“Hey, are you ok?” the person asked above her offering a hand.

“Yeah, thanks,” Marinette said dusting herself off before looking down at Jon’s phone at the time. “Oh my god I’m going to be late!” she yelled going to run off but the person grabbed her arm pulling her back.

“Is that the newest Wayne Tech phone?” he asked confused.

“Uh, yeah but it’s not mine, it’s actually a funny story…” Marinette started but the stranger had this look of concern in his eyes as he grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the street to a coffee shop.

“Tell me the story and how it’s so funny,” he said shoving her inside the Starbucks.

“I’d love to but I kind of have a meeting to go to,” Marinette said going to turn around but the man glared down at her.

“It can wait,” he said and Marinette sighed.

“I met a boy at the airport while I was struggling to speak English, it’s hard when you get flustered. He helped me cause he spoke french and english so it worked out and when he went to get on his plane we accidentally switched phones so now I have his and he’s stuck with mine in Paris, he hasn’t even tried to call it or anything and I don't want to call mine either. I’m not comfortable going through other people’s phones.” Marinette said and the guy looked at her shocked before laughing.

“Oh god of course that would happen to the poor kid,” the man said. “I’m Jason Todd by the way and the phone you have just so happens to be my brother’s boyfriend’s,” Jason said and Marinette’s eyes widened in shock. “The reason why he hasn’t called it yet is cause it’s a new number that he probably didn’t memorize yet but Jon did check in with Damian when the plane landed so that means you must have gone on it,” Jason said with a shit eating grin. 

“It was late and I was tired,” Marinette said trying to defend herself.

“Uh huh, sure. I won’t tell don’t worry,” Jason said winking and Marinette felt the stress drain from her shoulders. Something told her that Jon’s boyfriend wouldn’t have taken too nicely to being lied to. He seemed to be the polar opposite of Jon or at least that’s what the texts pointed to. How devastated would Jon have been that Damian didn’t say I love you back last night? “Hey, Jon’s phone has my number so call me later, I have an idea,” Jason said throwing 100 bucks on the table. “Also didn’t you have someplace to be?” Jason asked and Marinette’s eyes widened before she got up from the table running.

Jon continually slammed his head into the soft pillow at the hotel room trying in vain to remember the digits to his boyfriend’s number. A knock on the hotel door shook him out of his thoughts and when he went to open it, Alya, Nino, and a blonde girl were standing there.

“Morning sleepy head, did you remember any phone numbers last night or no?” Alya asked and Jon shook his head. “This is Chloe her dad runs the hotel, we’re going out for coffee, you should come with,” Alya offered and Jon accepted yawning.

“I’ll meet you guys downstairs in a sec,” Jon said before closing the door. He took in a deep breath before letting it out in an attempt to calm his nerves. “Everything is going to be ok.” Jon joined the three in the lobby and let Chloe tell stories about Paris all the way to the shop smiling and listening along until Alya gasped.

“Oh no he didn’t.”

Adrien knew that meeting his friends for coffee that morning would be weird but if it would help keep his mind off the Mari drama then so be it. He dragged himself out of bed and down the street to the coffee shop.

“Adrien!” a voice yelled out to him and Adrien turned around to see a familiar girl running toward him and his eyes widened in shock and horror.

“Uh, hi Lila,” Adrien said as the girl hugged him before grabbing his arm and dragging him inside.

“I heard Marinette was out of Paris for the week and you could use some company,” Lila said and Adrien couldn’t help but think his father was to blame for this. He stood in line with the extra weight of Lila attached to him ordering his coffee and and ordered hers on the same bill as him. Adrien took a deep breath trying not to get angry, that was fine, he would pay for her then ask her to leave. The bell to the store rang and suddenly Lila the leech was pulled from his arm and Alya was yelling at him.

“... did you even think?” was all he caught.

“I didn’t invite her,” Adrien said putting his hands up in surrender, finally looking up at the pissed off Alya and took notice of the black haired male standing next to Chloe.

“Then who did?” Chloe asked eyebrow cocked.

“I don’t know Chlo,” Adrien pleaded and the new male looked sorry for him.

“He’s being honest, it doesn’t seem like he knew she was going to be here,” the stranger said defending him and Alya calmed down turning to face him.

“Fine, but you. Leave. Now.” Alya said to Lila growling and Lila had the audacity to look hurt.

“But Alya, this isn’t like you,” Lila said trying to make herself seem innocent in the presence of the newer male. “You’re acting like a bully.”

“For all the shit you put Marinette through, I don’t care, we’re grown ass adults now Lila, no one has the time for your bullshit,” Alya said and Lila clung to the new guy.

“Yeah, um you seem nice… or something and all but I’m kind of in a relationship and I trust Alya’s judgment,” the guy said smiling nervously. 

“Oh, are you with Chloe?” Lila asked and Adrien was curious too.

“No, no, I have a boyfriend back in America,” he said and Adrien’s eyes widened taking him in in a new light.

“Whatever,” Lila said leaving and the gang sat down at a table.

“So, how did you guys all meet?” Adrien asked getting introduced to Jon.

“Well, I met Marinette at the airport, she was trying to order food and kept stumbling over her words, I helped her order and we chatted for a bit and she told these guys I was coming to keep me company while I’m here,” Jon said smiling and Adrien couldn’t help but stare into his sapphire blue eyes, they were so different from Marinette’s who lost their drive for justice when she wasn’t Ladybug but his seemed to have a hunger for something.

“That’s great, Marinette always knows how to bring people together, it’s kind of funny,” Adrien said smiling and Jon smiled back.

“Yeah, your girlfriend is awesome,” Jon said and Adrien’s smiled faltered slightly which the table didn’t seem to notice except Jon did.

“So what brings you to Paris?” Chloe asked and Jon looked panicked for a second before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Well-” Jon started but was cut off by a scream outside the shop.

“Lila must have been akumatized again,” Nino said getting up and dragging Jon out of the store.

“Let’s fix this,” Adrien said to Alya and Chloe who rolled their eyes.

“Don’t think we didn’t see the way you were staring Jon up and down, it wasn’t cute,” Alya said as Trixx came out of her jacket.

“Seriously Adriekins, do you even know what you want?” Chloe asked putting her comb in her hair.

“Women,” Adrien sighed. “Plagg claws out!”

.........

Taglist (open): @jumpingjoy82 @liquid-luck-00 @megaafangirl @zorua-adorable @dreamykitty25 @pinkittwice @ghostdragonfang @ramos123 @redbullgivescaswings @jayjayspixiepop @sekhmet5 @blur-of-colours @roseisred  @nightlychaotic @ladybug-182 @novaloptr @prettylittlebutterflie @hammalammadamdam @niknak-3​ @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @chaoticstarworld 

[tuanhood]

theta

pairing: frat!bambam x reader

genre: smut

warnings: 18+, language, cringey frat stuff, fingering

word count: 4,400+ 

summary: you haven’t been doing so well in stats, so your tutor - the last person you thought would be teaching you something - recommends giving you an incentive. 

a/n: hi guys! i’m a little late... but it’s kinda technically still the weekend? ngl this definitely isn’t my best work and I’m sorry for that because I feel like I’ve been lacking a little bit lately! but i promise that i have a few things in the works that will hopefully be better! but nonetheless enjoY! 

lambda | alpha | delta | gamma | kappa | sigma

“Okay so in a college class, the average IQ is 115. Assuming that the distribution is normal and that the standard deviation is 15. What percentage of the class has an IQ between 105 and 130?” 

You felt like you were going to die. 

When you were a little girl, you’d fantasize about all the fun and cool things you’d be able to do in college. Stay up late, hang out with your friends all the time, eat whatever you wanted, and take the classes that would help you become the best-selling author you aspired to be. 

In all of those daydreams and fantasies, you never pictured yourself in practical agony studying for a statistics class that you never wanted to take in the first place. You were more of an English and critical analysis girl, definitely not a science and math girl. Especially not stats. 

You told yourself probably a hundred times throughout the quarter that you could make it through. That you could maybe actually do this, but sometime between weeks three and four you got completely lost and when you received your midterm grade back, you knew you had to ask for help. 

“I don’t fucking know,” you exhaled in frustration as you practically slammed your head down onto the table in front of you. 

There’s a pause before Bambam lets out a sigh of his own, “let’s come back to that one later then.” 

This was how most of your sessions with Bambam went. He’d read the questions out loud to you as if was going to help, hope that you’d be able to solve it – which you typically wouldn’t – and then you’d give up in frustration. Then you’d call it a day. 

That was another thing. Another thing that made this whole tutoring thing even worse – you were being tutored by Bambam. As in Bambam of Theta Chi.

As dumb as you felt saying it, but you felt even more pathetic for having to be so terrible at stats that you have to be tutored by a frat boy. Sure he came highly recommended by the people at your school that put together and pair people off for the tutoring sessions, but it didn’t get rid of the pain you felt when you had to tell your friends who exactly was helping you pass stats. Or… at least trying to help. 

“Okay, so what is the probability of rolling snake eyes using two fair dice?”

Maybe you were being shallow, but even his voice screamed frat guy and not the master of statistics who is now teaching his peers. You don’t know why but it aggravated you. Traditionally he wasn’t supposed to be good at these kinds of things, someone like you was. It didn’t make sense. 

You groaned, your head still on the table, muffled by the surface, “I don’t know? 1/36?” 

At your answer, you could feel Bambam straighten up beside you. You had to admit the boy was a trooper for being willing to meet you at your apartment today instead of your usual spot in the library or at Starbucks. You just couldn’t be bothered to make the trek to campus, if you were going to have another agonizing day of probability, deviation, and whatever – it was going to be from the comfort of your living room floor. 

“Correct! See Y/N you’re not a lost cause.”

Bringing your head up from the coffee table, you grimace at him, “I never said I was a lost cause.” 

His cheeks turned a shade of light pink, clearly embarrassed by his statement, but being the cool and easygoing frat guy, he is – he covers it up, “I know. Dude, I’m just saying, chill.” Leave it to Bambam to cover up any real emotions. 

Even though it was frustrating that you were being tutored by a guy in Theta Chi and you felt lame whenever you admitted to anyone, it didn’t necessarily mean that you had anything against Bambam. Before he had started tutoring you, the encounters you had with Bambam were fine – certainly not an “oh my god you are so freaking annoying” situation. They were minimal of course, just a hello or a how are you at various school events or parties. You didn’t hate him, which was why at the beginning between the studying you had tried to talk to him and get to know him. But he never said anything real or authentic – it always felt like he was putting on some kind of ultra-frat boy act for you. Whenever you asked questions about him, things he liked to do, what he was studying or his family he would simply shy away from it and talk about Theta Chi. You didn’t get it. 

“Bambam is so freaking deep. I had a two-hour drunk conversation with him at Theta Chi’s party last weekend and my mind has been opened.” Your friend had told you when you told her about him tutoring you. 

So what? Did he have to be drunk to want to talk to you about something other than probability? Or was it just that he didn’t want to talk to you? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it bothered you a little too much for some unexplainable reason.

“I am chill,” you confirmed with him – a bit too bitterly. You couldn’t tell if your annoyance came from the ongoing frustration of not understanding stats regardless of how many times you’ve met with Bambam or the fact that he was constantly shying away from you two actually getting to know each other. 

“Well…” he began suddenly, swallowing almost nervously, “what if we work on a rewards-based system?” 

You scoffed at him, “what am I? A child?” 

“Do you want me to answer that? Listen… all I’m saying is that rewards or a prize can be a good motivator sometimes. It definitely can’t hurt the studying process.” 

There was a part of you that felt annoyed at Bambam for thinking that the only way that you were going to understand any of this was through some kind of incentive. An incentive that had nothing to do with your overall goal which was to not fail the class. However, you had to admit you were curious as to what Bambam could bring to the table when it came to “rewards,” so you decided to play along – for now.

“What kind of motivators are we talking about?” 

For a second you swear you see Bambam fidget nervously in his seat, but it happens so quickly, you’re sure it must be your brain playing a trick on you, “I don’t know… I’m literally the co-social chair of Theta Chi so I pretty much can get you whatever you want. Booze, drugs… sex.” 

At his last “category” for rewards, your interest is peeked, but not in a weird or perverted way – you swear, “what the social chair orchestrates and plans sexual encounters now?” 

He laughed and shakes his head, “definitely not. I’m just saying… If there was anyone you were interested in at Theta Chi… I could probably set it up for you. I mean you’re definitely not bad looking so I don’t think it would be difficult.” 

You were half pleased by Bambam’s compliment and intrigued that by the fact that it seemed like perhaps his “non-tutoring” personality was emerging from the surface. It caused you to push more regarding his “reward” if it meant that you could see more of it, “So what? I solve the next equation and I get to fuck Im Jaebeom? Is that how this works?” 

He clicked his tongue, “Jaebeom, huh? Wouldn’t have thought he would be your type.”

For some reason, you suddenly felt a wave of nervousness rush through your body and you feel defensive as though you have to explain yourself for some reason, “No- I mean it was just an example.” 

Bambam nodded his slowly and looked away from you for the first time since he brought up the incentive thing. His focus goes back to the textbook in front of both of you, “It’s okay if he is. Jaebeom’s a chill guy.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, for a moment there you almost got a hint of something from him. You weren’t quite sure as to what, but it almost felt like he was… jealous? But then he has to cower away and go back to stats… That was technically why he was sitting in your living room, but right now this seemed like the least important thing going on.

“What is it with you and chill? Does everything need to be chill? Why can’t you just be… normal?” 

He laughed at your query, “What if being chill is normal for some people?”  

You grabbed the pencil in front of you and tapped it on the table rhythmically in thought, “Chill people aren’t masters at stats. That’s just a fact.” 

Bambam’s face goes into fake shock, “really? Damn well, I guess that’s why you haven’t learned anything the last month that we’ve been doing this.”

It’s obvious that it was meant as a playful dig, to tease you, but Bambam feels his heart race when you simply frown in response instead of laugh. It was clear that he had gone too far. This was the thing he had been most worried about this entire time he had been tutoring you. 

He had heard from one of his brothers in Theta who knew a friend of yours that you felt embarrassed by being tutored by a frat guy – by him. Hearing that certainly didn’t make him feel good, but he tried his best to help you the last month or so. He didn’t want to do or say anything that could allude to “frat guy” behavior – so most of the time he tried to keep conversations statistics related. Part of him felt like it was because he was offended by your embarrassment, but another part of him felt like it was maybe because he wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t the typical frat guy because you probably didn’t like that. 

But he had to admit… in certain ways, he was the typical frat guy and restricting that part of himself meant restricting segments of his personality. The teasing – that was apart of it. 

“Shit – y/n I’m sorry I didn’t actually mean it. I meant it more like-”

At his quick and panicked response, you burst out into a fit of giggles, “dude I can be chill too. I was just fucking with you. Now come on… let’s keep working, I want my prize.” 

Bambam lets out a sigh in relief. Maybe he had misjudged you, “so you do want a reward?” 

“Of course, I want a reward.”

He licked his lips in thought and you have to admit it’s hard not to stare, “okay what should we start with?” 

You began to tap the pencil on your chin instead of the table, thinking about what exactly it was you wanted. When you finally have your grand prize in mind, you figure it’s better to start small. 

“I don’t want to be charged cover at any future Theta Chi parties.” 

He looked at you with surprise written on his face, “you go to our parties?” 

You rolled your eyes at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he can’t help but admire how cute you look when you do it, “of course. They’re the biggest parties on campus… why wouldn’t I go?” 

Bambam shrugged, “I just didn’t think you liked frat stuff…” drifting off he looks to see the confusion written on your face and he doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he feels the need to keep talking, “Unless it’s for Jaebeom.” Immediately he wants to punch himself in the face for his continual teasing.

You thought it was funny how he was stuck on the Jaebeom thing. You had just said his name as an example – something you already explained to Bambam – but for some reason, it seemed to bother him. Bambam was more your type than Jaebeom, but it would have been weird if you had brought him up as an example.

“What was that?” 

His voice causes your body to jolt up in surprise. Had he heard you? No way.

“Y/N what did you just say?” Bambam asked once again.

The second question regarding what you had just said sends you into a frenzy, considering he was the last person who had just said something based on your recollection. Therefore… he fucking heard you. 

“Did I say that out loud?” You asked embarrassed and judging on the look on Bambam’s face – you have your answer. 

You felt your mouth go dry, “I- shit… Bam I didn’t mean- Well I mean I did, but- Fuck I-” you cut off your stuttering with nervous laughter and you feel more awkward than you’ve probably ever felt in your adult life. 

Rather than saying anything, Bambam looks at you curiously. A hint of a smile appears on his face but soon disappears as if he’s thought of an idea or just something. Hopefully, an idea to get me out of this, you think to yourself. Instead, he scoots closer next to you on the floor and for a moment you have to remind yourself to exhale. 

“Instead of the cover as your reward… What about…” he begins, placing his right hand onto your thigh, “this? Is this okay?” If you had to keep your breathing in check just when he moved closer to you, then you felt like you were going to need to be resuscitated now. 

Rather than verbally answering, you nodded your head, afraid to open your mouth in case the wrong thing came out.

Keeping his hand placed firmly on your thigh, he asked you the next question, “Suppose X and Y are independent random variables. The variance of X is equal to 16; and the variance of Y is equal to 9. Let Z = X – Y. What is the standard deviation of Z?” 

It’s becoming harder to concentrate. All you can focus on is the placement of his hand on your thigh and when you don’t answer right away, he begins to move it up and down your leg. 

“Come on, I know you can do this one,” he said softly. 

You couldn’t believe that your tutoring session was now taking a sharp turn – a turn that you had to admit you were now craving – but Bambam was still expecting you to be focused enough to answer questions. You weren’t able to typically do it even when you didn’t have his hand on you. 

It’s almost as though you’re on autopilot as you put your pencil to paper and work out the problem. The only thing on your mind is the curiosity of what his next move will be if you answer him correctly. 

“5?” 

He gives you your answer by drifting his hand up your thigh until it sits at the top of your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You wonder if he can tell how damp you’ve become, even with the sweatpants you’re wearing. It was probably evident just by looking at your face. 

“A coin is tossed three times. What’s the probability that it lands on heads exactly one time?” 

This was becoming frustrating. How the fuck were you getting turned on by him asking you stats questions? You felt like your brain was about to explode with how completely mixed up it felt. The cause of your stress for the entire quarter was now the cause of you being turned on? Your mind was currently rewiring itself.

For this question, it takes you some time to focus enough to work it out and calculate. Bambam who is usually patient with you when you struggle, has instead been replaced with a much more impatient version of himself as he slips his hand up to the waistband of your sweatpants, delicately playing with the top to tease you, you suddenly wished you would have worn better underwear for what’s about to happen. If you could answer the question that is. 

Just as you feel as though you’ve come to the end of the problem, you feel him dip a single finger underneath the top of the band, rubbing it softly against your stomach. It causes your hand to slip up on the paper, drawing a line right through your problem. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked innocently, completely aware of what he was doing to you, “do you need help?” 

You shook your head in response, unable to say anything. It was becoming more and more difficult to even get your hand to move fluidly on the paper. It was instead starting to get more jagged. Your fives were beginning to look more like threes. When you’ve finally solved the problem, you find yourself pointing at the paper for Bambam to look at your answer. He laughed. 

“Correct again. You’re doing so well,” he murmured as he finally dips his hand beneath the band of your sweatpants and down to your panties. You sucked a deep breath in, waiting in anticipation for his next actions, feeling him so much closer to where you need him the most, but instead, his hand just rests there, over the material. 

Letting a very out of character whine escape your lips causes him to chuckle. “Do you think you can have your reward that fast? No, no,” he tutted, “you have to finish answering all the questions like a good girl.” 

You try so hard to remember the next question he asks, but he soon begins gently rubbing you through your panties and it makes you want to kill him for playing so dirty. How were you able to solve any problems when it felt like an actual ocean was forming in your underwear? You knew Bambam could feel it too with the way his gaze on you got even darker, one of his fingers wandering to the side of your panties, playing with the hem but not daring to slip underneath. 

What the fuck was the question? 

“Having trouble angel?” 

He doesn’t give you time to answer – even if he did you weren’t sure you’d be able to provide him with one – instead, he slips his hand underneath your panties until his fingers find your entrance, slowly stroking up and down. You let out a moan when he’s left his index finger on your clit, rubbing small circles around the bundle of nerves. 

“It can’t be that hard to remember a simple question. Is something distracting you?”

Another sigh of pleasure is released from you when he presses down a bit to place more pressure on your clit, “I’ll ask you one more time. You have to remember this time or you lose your reward, okay? Are you listening?” 

Nodding your head, he smiled, “The standard normal curve is symmetric about 0 and the total area under it is 1. True or False?” 

Bambam himself was losing his patience, he so badly wanted to bring you to your release and see how tight you get around his fingers, how much you ask him for it. He had to admit that wasn’t the original question he had asked you, but at this rate, he just wanted to ask you the easier questions so both of you could get what you wanted. 

“T-True?” You managed to stutter out.

“Doing so well for me,” he whispered into your ear at your response. The teasing had been so achingly painful that when he finally fully inserts his pointer finger you feel like a kid on Christmas. You feel as though you can finally let out the breath you had been holding in since he started the taunting. 

The pace he starts with is clearly another method to get you worked up – which you certainly are – but you also felt thankful that at least it was something compared to the nothing you were getting from him previously. When he curls his finger, hitting you in the spot that drives you crazy, you felt your body instinctively jerk forward in surprise. He had found it so fast and with such ease, you wondered if the two of you had down this before in another life.  

“Bam, I-” you begin, but as his thumb draws circles over your clit, you ultimately lose your train of thought and fall even closer into him, until your head is resting on his shoulder.

“There’s one more question left… Do you think you can handle it?” 

The whimper you let out sounds borderline inhumane and in any other situation you would be frustrated with yourself for giving in so quickly, but right now you didn’t care. All you needed was him to keep going – to really give you your reward. The noise is enough for him to dive into the last question and you feel like you’re gonna pass out at the way he begins to rhythmically tap your clit, his finger now going stagnant.

His eyes drift down to the textbook on the table, gazing through which questions on the page are still viable to be asked. After a moment he locks eyes with you, the tapping still consistent. 

For a moment he looks shy and despite his previous teasing, you feel your heart leap out of your chest in deep want and longing. It’s a weird feeling you have to admit, but somehow it feels just right. 

“What’s the probability of you going out on a date with me after this?” Bambam blushed when he asked you his query and for some reason, he feels so small being in front of you – asking this – despite his current position with his hand in between your legs. 

You, on the other hand, have no trouble answering this final question. The question that’ll get you your reward and perhaps something else entirely. 

“Without a doubt, 100% chance.” 

The smile that emerged on his face is so big, you take a picture of it in your mind, wanting to keep it safe and bottle it up to view later, a hundred times over. 

He slipped in another finger, watching your face as it contorts into even more pleasure, “there we go.” 

You felt a groan arise in your throat as soon as he began to pick up the original pace of his sole finger. With both of them curling and pumping in and out of you, you felt even more overwhelmed than before. Bambam smirked, taking in your tightly shut eyes, “Good?” Opening your eyes, you felt your climax right around the corner, only able to moan his name in response to his question. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, leaning in to place his lips on your own.

Somehow, the pace of his fingers only increased, practically fucking into you over and over, hitting your g-spot each time. Even though you were sat on the floor, already mostly leaning onto Bambam for support, you still felt as though you could melt into the floor. With a final few pumps that hit your sweet spot and his thumb still massaging your clit, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers. “That’s it, good girl,” he said against your lips.  

Soon you fall apart, feeling as though there’s no breath left in your body, your body falling practically limp at your release around Bambam’s fingers. He takes a moment to slip his hand out from between your legs and you don’t ignore the feeling you get in your core again when he slowly places his fingers in his mouth. 

You groaned, feeling like you were practically in a sedative state at how relaxed your release made you feel, “do you have to do that?” 

Bambam narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“Be so damn seductive.” 

The two of you look at each other before bursting into laughter at your very serious confession. After a moment when it’s silent you look down at your lap to realize that somewhere during your encounter with Bambam, your sweatpants managed to slip down to the bottom of your thighs. 

“I should probably go get cleaned up…” 

Bambam coughed awkwardly and turned to his things on the coffee table, “yeah… I guess I should probably just get my stuff together too and get out of your hair.” 

Get out of your hair? Who the fuck says that Bam? He asked himself. 

You looked at him with confusion, “I thought you were taking me out? Remember? 100% chance? I mean… unless you didn’t mean it…” 

His eyes went big, “No!” he exclaimed, “I definitely meant it! I just didn’t know if maybe you said it in the moment and- Or I don’t maybe you did mean it- but also if you didn’t that’s cool. Just so you know I would have still given you your- uh reward if you had said no- Sorry I’m rambling. I ramble when I get nervous.” 

When he stops talking, he instantly avoids your gaze. This was the Bambam you wanted to see. This display of authenticity made you feel as though the curtain had finally been drawn. 

“I said it because it was true. The likeliness was 100%. Give me like 15 minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” just as you’re about to head to the stairs, you stop yourself and remember why the two of you were even here in the first place, “shit stats…” 

Instantly, Bambam shakes his head, “if you think we’re going to go back to probability, standard deviation, and bullshit right now after what just happened you are very mistaken. We’ve done enough… work for today.” 

Smiling, you nodded your head in confirmation and begin to go up the stairs to your room. Considering something, you find yourself stopping on the third stop, turning towards the living room where Bambam looks up at you with his head cocked to the side. 

“You picked easier questions towards the end on purpose, didn’t you?” 

He let out a laugh and grinned – another smile that you decided to file away in your memories, something that you figured might soon become a regular part of your life. 

“Let’s just say that I wanted to give you your reward as much as you wanted to have it.”

[metalbvcky]

*Shows up late to the Stucky/Marvel fandom Post-EG with Starbucks and dozens of fics that I’ve read in hand* So you guys like fanfiction?

Yeah so, because of quarantine I’ve been consuming a ton of fic. I’ve probably read over 1.5 million words in just a couple months. So why not share what I’ve been reading! Note that some of these are older (popular) fics so veteran Stucky peeps will probably know of them since I not too recently delved into the realm that is Stucky fanfic. :)  

Down below are over a dozen fics with different tropes, Canon/AU’s, and what not. Please do heed the tags on some of these. For the curious: My AO3 bookmarks. 

Also shoutout to @stuckylibrary, the mods over there are doing the lords work. 

Key:  ♥ = My fave, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub 

Heroes are Easy, People are Hard ♥ by Halbereth, Lorien - Words: 152,284 | CW Fix It, Slight Canon Divergence, Recovery, Slow Burn

Shuri and Wanda cleared Bucky's triggers shortly after Killmonger's attempted coup, and he and Steve went on the run. But it turns out there's more to "fixing Bucky's head" than "getting Hydra out of it." When a group of rogue scientists manage to neutralize the serum and make Steve very sick--pre-serum "this is bad" kind of sick--and they're cut off from contact with Wakanda, Bucky knows only one person with resources to help. He calls Tony and surrenders on the condition that Tony tries to help Steve.

From there, it's basically three variously messed-up guys’ trajectories from "This Is Fine", "Reasonably Speaking I Know It’s Fine", "I Will Be Fine With It" to actually being fine, guest-starring a far-better-adjusted teenage boy who climbs walls, a 1957 Ford Thunderbird, two women with a keen sense of the absurd, and Bruce, the Zen master of “it’s fine that it’s not fine.” Add in the fact that Bucky's been secretly in love with Steve since the thirties and things only get harder. Learning to be a person is the hardest thing Bucky Barnes will ever have to do--but he's got company along the way.

Reap The Whirlwind by Cristinuke - Words: 18,221 | Canon Universe, Post CW, Domestic 

Bucky finds a cat. Or rather, a cat finds him.

Your Favorite Ghost by augustbird - Words: 21,013 |  Canon Divergence, Post TWS

It's harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home.

Despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) ♥ by praximeter (Zimario) - Words: 71,532 | Canon Divergence TWS, Body Modifications 

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

This city bleeds its aching heart ♥ by Renne - Words: 34,537 | Canon Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship 

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

The Best Way to Wake ♥ by LeeHan - Words: 42,293 | Post TFA, Canon Divergence TWS, Recovery 

James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail ♥ series by owlet - Words: 264,438 | Canon Divergence (sort of) 

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

Undersell, overcommit by silentwalrus - Words: 10,222 | Canon Universe 

Steve goes so hard for Bucky that he becomes a licensed, practicing massage therapist.

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena - Words: 26,734 | Post-TWS, Canon Universe 

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn't have much to do when he's not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it's real or if he's starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

Sugar Sweet ♥ from the Red Velvet series by ColorCoated - Words: 173,400 | Modern/Sugar Daddy AU, Age Difference, Slow Burn

"What's your name?" It wasn't even a line. He was just pretty and Bucky wanted a name to go with that face. With that strong jawline. With those deep blue eyes. A little smirk, "Steve."

Awww, Steve. He looked like a Steve. Bucky pursed his lips in a way he hoped was attractive, "You should buy me a drink."

College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.

Steve and Bucky Go Away for the Weekend (and cook a lot) ♥ by E_Greer -  Words: 30,126 | Canon Universe, Domestic 

In which Steve coaxes Bucky out of the Tower for a birthday weekend away and sweet, fluffy domesticity ensues. Phlintasha helps keep Bucky calm, Steve has Opinions about how you set the table, stories are told, greenhouses are toured, baths are had, books are read, tears are shed, stars are gazed upon, and everyone makes Bucky feel loved. Includes Friday night dinner, Saturday morning breakfast, Saturday lunch, Saturday dinner, and Sunday brunch.

Dona Nobis Pacem by thegraytigress - Words: 65,214 | Canon Universe, Recovery 

"This job... We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes it doesn't mean everybody, but if we can't find a way to live with that... Next time maybe nobody gets saved."

An incident on the battlefield exposes how much Steve's falling apart under the crushing weight of leading the Avengers after Sokovia. Now Bucky's adopting a new mission: save Steve before he destroys himself completely, even if it means the end of Captain America.

Give 'Em Hope ♥ by L1av - Words: 130,022 | Modern/Hospital AU, UA/Age Difference 

Dr. Steve Rogers likes to think that if his patients have hope- their chances of survival will increase. Bucky Barnes has a 20% chance of survival and a desperate yearning to experience life. Against Steve's better judgment, he develops a relationship with his patient. It's illegal. It's wrong. But it's giving Bucky the hope to keep going, so Steve's going to keep giving it, because he wants Bucky to survive. He needs him to.

You belong (to me) by hermionesmydawg - Words: 29,759 | S, DS, Canon Compliant, Post CW

"Hold on." Bucky lifted a finger and backed out of the doorway, returning a moment later with his cell phone. He snapped a photo of Steve, typed a few words, and then returned to his apple. "What the hell were you doing at a sex club last night?"

"Not having sex, if that's what you're wondering." An alert sounded from Steve's nightstand - a new Snapchat message. He rolled his eyes and unlocked his phone. Sam was always sending stupid Snapchats and frankly, Steve couldn't figure that goddamn app out and cursed whoever created that piece of shit.

The chat wasn't from Sam this time, however. It was a picture of himself, not looking guilty at all, with the caption "when your buddy catches you looking at p*rn."

Circling Back from the It’s Not Linear series by chaya - Words: 59,642 (Series Total: 136,782) | Canon Divergence

Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him.

Continuing Education by 743ish, romanticalgirl - Words: 14,443 | S, Canon Universe/College, Shrunkyclunks 

Steve is invited to be a guest lecturer on the WWII unit for Bucky's college course. Bucky's more than happy to glean any extra knowledge (in more than just history) from Steve, and Steve's happy to eductate him. But then Bucky has to decide if he can handle the fact that Steve throws himself into danger, and if the sex is worth it. Or if it's not just sex anymore.

Salt & Sugar by GoldBlooded, stfustucky - Words: 19,598 | Modern/Restaurant AU

Steve Rogers is a bigshot celebrity chef in New York City, and Bucky Barnes is a classically trained pastry chef in Moscow.

When billionaire and mutual friend Natasha Romanoff calls on them to collaborate for her Memorial Day Benefit Gala, they both brace themselves to spend the week working with some jerk they're bound to hate. Except... Steve makes a burger that could bring Bucky to tears, and Bucky makes tartlets so beautiful Steve's sure they qualify as art. Maybe, just maybe, together they could make this a night to remember.

@/sgtbarnes1917 and @/cptrogers1918 by BayleyWinchester - Words: 114,203 | Canon Universe, Social Media Fic 

Bucky Barnes broke Twitter with one photo

Proprietary Information ♥ from the Additional Information series by notlucy - Words: 85,141 (Series Total: 165,871) | Modern AU, Age difference, Slow Burn

Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

Deep in the Woods (Where My Heart Has Been Waiting) by SilverMyfanwy - Words: 15,353 | Pioneer-AU, Shrinkyclinks 

Steve Rogers gets lost in the woods in a snowstorm. Bucky Barnes takes him in. Pioneer-era AU ish with Shrinkyclinks, evil chickens and a cabin in the woods.

A Bucky Odyssey by inediblesushi, thorstbench - Words: 9,952 | Shrinkyclinks,  Cap!Bucky, Nurse!Steve  

Bucky Barnes, Captain America, has a plan to make Steve Rogers, SHIELD nurse, fall in love with him. Confiding in the Internet might not be the best idea, though. So when the bad pick up lines do not work and Steve looks determined to staying single, he decides to be more himself and less what he thinks he should be.

At first I wanted to wait to post this until I finished a few more fics from my ever growing read-later list but what the heck, now or never! I’ll probably end up making a part 2 reclist by the amount of fic I’m reading these days. 

Happy reading and stay safe out there fellow Stucky trash members!!

[builder051]

No end to the silence

Part I (of what I expect to be 2)

Barton fam/ DD’s (@mohini-musing) coming home ‘verse

Warnings more in line with my Nat on Fire works.

WARNINGS for drug use inc. illegal drugs and drug use by minors, sex talk inc. prostitution, violence against minorities (race/gender/gender expression/identity, impoverished, homeless, etc.), canon typical violence (inc. guns), blood, injury, illness inc. emeto, and a little awkward discussion of religion, related festivities, and further relation to Federal holidays.

_________________________

Over the past five years, Nat’s made an appearance at the Avengers’ annual Christmas party only twice. For the rest of the time, she’s been working. Technically she would’ve been working even if she’d been at the event every time, for Fury doesn’t believe in required appearances without proper compensation.

But Nat volunteers for the obscure solo stuff. Evening gowns are workable, of course, but not really her thing. Especially not something she wants to sport in front of her friends. Coworkers. It’s hard to get the look right. Bombshell and fishnets are reserved for missions dependent on the power of pure sexuality. She barely has a personal style. If her threadbare jeans and t-shirts could be translated to formalwear…Classy comfort, a little cleavage maybe? She’d have to go shopping. The thought makes Nat’s lip twist with a laugh, though. The Christmas bonus hasn’t landed in her account yet, and she has her cards extended to the limits.

Today’s mission puts Nat in more of her natural element. Or at least more of what it’s been lately. She doesn’t have a problem choosing a costume from her home wardrobe, nor props. Concealing a weapon on her skinny body without making a conspicuous lump does present a challenge. Nat hates to admit she needs the gun, but her fisticuffs aren’t up to scratch. There’s a slight rattle in her chest that doesn’t fade with the embarrassing pull for a morning cigarette.

Nat tries to smoke her breakfast in the roughly thirty seconds it takes her to get from the apartment’s front porch to her parked car. She grinds off the still half good cigarette on the pavement and tucks it in her pocket, where the end begins to shed ash and loose tobacco. Then, with a foul tasting swig of off-brand energy drink already open in the cup holder, Nat backs out of the lot and drives downtown.

She parks three blocks from the library, at the meter she purposefully disabled last week by overheating its sensor with a laser pointer, then wedging a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar inside the coin slot. It hasn’t been fixed. Nat isn’t surprised. Even though it’s only Christmas Eve, it’s a Federal Holiday, what with the big day falling on a Saturday and all.

And that’s what makes today such a good day for stalking. The city’s in a state of confusion. Tourists are all over the place, running around in mobs instead of standing in lines to get photos of the outdoor monuments. With little to no police force and no museums to pack into when they get cold, Starbucks is doing triple business in its shortened hours, and people are all but arguing in the streets about spots on restaurant reservation lists. And it’s only 10:30 in the morning.

Nat���s not after these maniacs, though. She’s more interested in the homeless coming out of the woodwork, peeking out of alleys and wearily eyeing their usual street corners, wondering if it’s worth the cold and the throngs to try taking back their city. Again with the limited policing, asking for handouts, trading drugs, trading sex… it’ll all be on the up and up, even if the forecast isn’t predicting anything past 40.

Nat has intel on a new HYDRA cell. They’re supposed to be kicking off attacks at the beginning of the new year, because that’s original. Nat literally rolled her eyes as she was reading the report. She resumed her game face, though, when she got to the meat of the document. Test subjects, they were after. Pulled from the easy to lure, supposed dregs of humanity. The homeless. Addicts. Sex workers. Runaways. There was an event scheduled, something charity-affiliated. Probably Jewish, since these HYDRA agents were known to be coming from Eastern Europe and specifically setting up to work the long holiday weekend. Nat’s job is her usual. Pose. Infiltrate. Take intel. Prevent disaster. Don’t get caught.

Getting away from her car as quickly as possible, Nat cuts diagonally across a few streets. She meanders as soon as the vehicle is out of sight, but she heads generally for the poorer side of things. When she hits a convenient metro station, Nat slumps her shoulders and rides the escalator down to the tracks, then loops back up the stairs to street level. She manages to get a short ways by herself, then a rush of people come up the stairs behind her.

Someone bumps Nat’s shoulder. Her intention is to shrink and keep walking, but the person addresses her.

“Hey! Hi!”

Nat lifts her head. A girl of nebulous age clops along beside her, waving with one hand and holding a small cardboard sign with the other.

Need Help. She looks multiracial, and her clothes are generically unclean. Could be anywhere from 16 to 30. Wide eyes betray speed, crack, or serious ADHD.

“Hi?” Nat hazards. There are still people all around. Nat steps toward a double-sided bus shelter perched just off the sidewalk. At least they’ll have half a chance of hearing each other there.

“Yeah. Hey,” The girl continues, following Nat and pausing beside her under the arched plastic roof.

“What’s up?” Nat asks. The girl’s a little taller than she is, but looks on the clumsy side, with big hands and feet. Nat clocks her young, then. Maybe still growing into herself. Probably under 20.

“It’s, like, such a crazy day,” the girl says.

“Yeah.” Nat waits, for more is certainly coming.

“Everybody’s being so nice, but I haven’t got, like, anything man.” The girl shakes her head. “I keep trying different places, but, like…”

Nat immediately sees the problem; the girl can’t seem to sit still long enough to make effort at collecting change. Moving all over the place has given her nothing but an exercise in disappointment. Nat doesn’t know how to point this out politely, though, so she shrugs and offers a sideways smile. “Some days…”

“D’you wanna, like, hang out sometime?” The girl pulls out a scratched flip phone. “Lemme have your number.”

Nat typically has a burner line for situations like this, but she’s scrubbed it recently, and she can’t remember what the new number is. She’s about to dig in her own pocket to get out her mobile device and look it up, but as soon as she moves a tick, the butt of her jeans flexes easily. There’s no phone to be found in there, and she wouldn’t have put it anywhere else. Damn women’s clothes and no functional pockets.

“I, um,” Nat starts. “I don’t have one. I don’t have a phone.”

“Girl, what?”

Nat shrugs again. “I just don’t.”

“I can help you get one,” the girl says.

Nat hesitates. She bites her lip, wavering on her decision. Rapport is good. But time wasting. “How?” Nat finally asks.

“Twenty-four hour Food Mart has ‘em for $100 with 100 minutes preloaded, then you buy the minutes on a card when you need ‘em.” The girl says quickly. “But only the one that has the broken gas pump out front. The air pump works, though, if you got a bicycle.”

“So…”

“I can’t spot you a hundred.” The girl looks desperately disappointed, even though the plan has barely even been proposed.

“That’s— I don’t—“. Nat doesn’t expect generosity from strangers. Besides, hobo Nat doesn’t have that kind of money, for herself or for sharing. Hell, regular Nat doesn’t have that much money.

“I do know a way you can get a buck,” The girl says, tapping her chin with one finger. “You probably gonna have to beg him for a tip to cover the tax, ‘cause the flat fee for the session is usually $100 even—“

“No, that’s ok.” Nat puts up her hand. She tries to let her chest decompress without opening her mouth, but the cough hanging in her throat starts to melt into droplets of thick saliva, and they want desperately to let go into her airway. Nat gets away with one good hack, wiping her nose on her sleeve as well to play up the sick and down the disgusted. She wouldn’t be into it anyway, but she doesn’t have any condoms, nor has she been tested lately.

“Aw.” The girl taps Nat’s shoulder blade, doing next to nothing to help her feel better. The attempt is sweet, though.

“Yeah, I’ve got guk in my throat,” Nat sighs. “Great way to spend Christmas.”

“Where’ve you been staying? Is it one of those places with bunk beds? They’re the worst!”

“I move around.” Nat finds an in and tries not to glow as she continues, “But I’ve heard there’s supposed to be good food today. Like, the Synagogue, or something, is coming out?”

“What’s that?” The girl asks. Nat re-adjusts her age to under 18.

“Um. Jewish people? Volunteers?” She takes a breath. “Like, since they don’t celebrate the Christmas holiday, they chose it as a service day?”

“Oh. What kind of food?”

“I don’t know,” Nat replies. Probably not Christmas ham. “Mac and cheese, maybe? Coffee?”

“D’you just wanna, like, hang out?” The girl asks. “I don’t know if I’m that hungry.”

Of course she’s not. She’s still rolling from whatever she last took. And honestly, Nat’s not so hungry either.

Nat takes a breath. “Ok,” she agrees.

They walk two and a half blocks, then cut through a tiny gap between brick buildings that opens into an alley pleasantly devoid of trash and smelling of wood shavings.

“It’s a furniture store,” The girl explains. “One of the old people kind?”

Nat can clearly read the word Amish printed backward through the window. She nods and smiles.

The girl runs ahead and kicks a roll of what turn out to be moving blankets away from the back wall. She flops down, grins, and pats the spot beside her.

Nat’s happy to lie down. The lunch hour has barely hit, but she’s tired. She’s done some overnights lately, both in the office and in the field. Smoked too much. Worked out too little. The dwindling bottle of Vodka in the fridge has been serving as dinner. The one put away in the cupboard isn’t to be opened until Christmas Day. New Year’s, if she can last that long. Depending on how busy work is and the lengths of the floating sleeps she can eek out of her heroin hits, she might just be able to…

“Want some?”

Nat snaps her eyelids open. She hadn’t realized they’d been drifting shut. She internally pokes herself. Never be weaker than the companion. There are contingencies, of course, and Nat’s probably safer than this girl than she has any right to be, what with her bold and veritable instant BFF routine. But still. Nat’s an agent. The girl’s…

A bottle shakes loudly by Nat’s ear. “Want some?” The girl asks again.

“What is it?” Nat’s clued in this time.

“Lean,” The girl answers. “With, you know. Some stuff.”

Nat lifts herself on one elbow so she can see the bottle. It seems to have once been Fanta Orange, but the liquid inside looks foamy grey.

“Like what?” She’s not altogether taken aback, but she needs the details before she’s partaking.

“You never had sizzurp before?” The girl shakes the bottle again, and Nat wonders if it’s going to explode.

“Well, yeah,” Nat says, “But what’s your recipe?”

“Just regular lean.” The girl shrugs. “But with vodka and a green apple AirHead.”

That explains the color, at least. “Ok.” Nat becomes painfully aware of the stale cigarette taste hanging around her dry mouth, and she holds out her hand.

The girl starts to open the bottle, and surprisingly little fizzles out around the lid. Nat wonders how much of the concoction was soda to begin with. And how long the mix has been hanging around. But she wraps her hand around the plastic label nonetheless and takes a swig.

The taste is horrific, though mostly because it’s an all-out assault on the senses. Nat picks out the bitterness of the vodka and lets that be her focus. The artificial fruity sweetness makes her teeth hurt, and the codeine brings on an immediate misplacement of balance that makes Nat glad she’s mostly horizontal. She swallows and tries not to gag, then takes another pull.

“‘S good, right?” The girl says, taking the bottle back and gulping down her share. Her enormous eyes go sleepy within seconds. Nat’s heart practically breaks as she sees the cycle in real time as the girl fumbles with a magical pocket inside her coat. Instead of going in, the sizzurp bottle has knocked free the handle of a spoon with a plastic baggie rubber banded around it. Nat lifts her chin, and she can see a couple of RX bottles and crumpled dollar bills as well.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Nat replies. It’s only half a lie. The feeling is good. Shadows dance in the corners of her visual field. She squints and ensures the alley is empty of people and vicious dogs and purple trees. Then she blinks. Then… she doesn’t know.

Nat’s on her back. Then she’s on her side, but she didn’t put herself there. The sky is still in front of her eyes, but her ribs and elbow and thigh are on the ground, and something itches beneath her cheek. Nat blinks. The sky goes back where it belongs, and now Nat has an eyeful of blurry variegated terra cotta.

Somebody grabs her wrist and pulls hard. Whoever they are, they manage to get enough leverage to yank Nat clear to her feet, where she stumbles, trying to maintain her balance and keep from vomiting as the world orients itself once again. The sky is above her, and brick is down and around the sides, but everything’s too blurry to pick out details.

There’s a scream close to Nat’s right ear, and she almost falls over as she instinctively squeezes her eyes shut. That makes it easier to find herself in space, though, and her working memory kicks into gear. Drugs. An alley. A girl.

Nat bends her knees slightly and finds purchase on the pavement with her winter boots. The girl and the attacker, a singleton, it appears, are going at it on the moving blanket.

The attacker’s in all black, militaristic looking, but not immediately recognizable. It’s not an area that would have CCTV, and Nat’s not about to take pictures. Not that she could anyway. But generic adversary means generic moves, and hopefully that means Nat can get a step ahead. If she can think through her throbbing head fog.

So. He’s thrown Nat away. As far as he’s concerned, she’s dealt with. She’s up, so if she’s going to run for help, she’ll be too slow, so whatever he’s going to do next is going to be fast, so why the fuck are they all still standing around—

The girl screams. It’s actually the second time she’s screamed. He needs to shut her up. Nat watches his elbow go back, and she launches into it from the side, digging her own elbow between his ribs. As expected, he’s wearing something with a kevlar front and back and Velcro along the sides. Nat’s jab doesn’t do much, but it does momentarily divert his attention.

“Go, sister!” The girl yells, evidentially seeing Nat join the fight. “You gotta run!”

Fuck. Now the attacker’s torn between targets. Nat’s not going to run, but she’ll have to rely on hand-to-hand a while longer before going for her gun. Sticking a trembling hand down into her shoe isn’t something she can do in the blink of an eye this inebriated.

Nat sucks in her breath. She turns her shoulders as if considering going, but leaves her head behind. The attacker gets one running step in before Nat rotates abruptly, catching his hip and sending him stumbling. He doesn’t quite fall, but it’s the moment Nat needs. She bends one knee and dips down, stretching her fingers and wrapping them tightly around the pistol that’s been rubbing a blister into the side of her ankle all day.

Nat straightens up, holding the weapon behind her back. She blinks hard to clear her vision as much as she can. A head shot would be best. Anything disabling would be alright, though. For a first shot.

The attacker starts to stand up and prepare to rush again. He grits his teeth at Nat. He can probably see her tremors.

Nat pulls the gun around her abdomen and grasps it with both hands. She raises it to chin height.

The attacker’s head angles to the side just so, and his teeth offset as well. He sees the gun.

Nat raises an eyebrow. Lifts her trigger finger.

Then, suddenly, “What you still doing? You gotta get out of here!” Whether she can see the weapon or not is anyone’s guess. The girl’s eyes are filled with tears.

Nat looks to the girl’s face. Then she looks back to the attacker. But he’s not where he just was.

The black gloved hand yanks the gun straight out of Nat’s grip. He gives her shoulder a shove and sends her reeling, then three shots pop off, right in a row. The first one cuts a guttural sound, but the second and third ring into silence.

“Oh, fuck you.” Nat holds her temples between her palms. She feels sick.

There’s a heavy thump, and Nat pulls herself together enough to growl as the attacker’s foot retracts and the girl’s body twitches. The attacker makes a mad dash for the slit-like exit back to the street, which Nat still can’t quite see. As soon as he turns, though, Nat makes a wild grab and gets a handful of the back of his shirt. It stretches around the neckline, pseudo-choking him while Nat hangs on. He whips Nat’s gun over his shoulder and fires, the bullet sailing over Nat’s head.

“You’re a pretty great shot,” Nat mocks, though she can barely breathe enough to speak. She fights to get her arm around the attacker’s neck. He keeps trying to buck her off, but Nat’s continued pulling has put pressure on his kevlar garment, loosening the Velcro in his armpits. She seems to notice before he does, so Nat takes the opportunity to plunge her less-sore hand into the gap. She flays her fingers open, poking hard at skin protected by nothing but a base layer. Then she pulls a fist, which makes him stop short and screech, and weaves her hand further down through the Velcro, entangling them to the point where he can’t free himself. Not if he still wants control of the gun.

The attacker laughs, though it’s obviously to cover up the winded bursts of air coming from his throat. Nat twists her grip, and she feels individual body hairs parting company with the man’s skin deep within the knot of clothing under her control. He shoots his opposing arm out to grapple with her. Nat expects it, and she isn’t sure she can hold him off. She’s more interested in the other arm, though, which is pointed upward and still clutching Nat’s gun.

It’s his non-dominant arm, and Nat doesn’t know if he intends to shoot. She doesn’t know if he knows there’s still live ammo inside. Either one round or two, Nat can’t remember. She tries not to look up at the gun; she’ll just make herself sick changing her focus, and she knows as well as anyone that visual cues don’t actually help memory, not when it’s screwed to shit by substances and inconvenient sleeps. Best she can hope to do is continue to grapple and hope he lacks the confidence to try firing again. Not that his track record points to as much, though.

The attacker find Nat’s hand in the wad of straps and cloth under his arm. His gloves prevent him from doing anything but applying pressure; he can’t get enough purchase within the skirmish to twerk her wrist or separate her fingers and send them bending backward.

Nat hasn’t the energy to try to topple him again, at least not from a maneuver to gain the upper hand. She starts to remember what she fondly refers to as the ‘dumbfuck college girl safety guide,’ and gives thanks that, even though she’s drunk and thoroughly shot to shit, guys are dumb.

Nat puts all her weight into the clinging hand, and the rest spills down and out of her body. Her ass bounces off the brickwork as the attacker’s vest splits to the hip. He tumbles forward, throwing his arms out to catch himself. He’s going to fall anyway, but Nat extends one leg, making no effort to bend her foot or ankle, so the steel toe of her boot lands in the crease of his knee.

The attacker groans and curses. He lands on all fours about a foot ahead of Nat, who’s posed in a more delicate half butterfly. The crack of the gun hitting the ground effectively ends the fight, but immediately ignites a second scramble. The attacker’s poised to grab it again, but Nat rolls onto her bent knee and springs. With her entire body blocking the attacker’s extended arm, Nat gets closer. She feels the cold, hard plastic beneath her fingers for a second, but—

A boot sweeps through the space in front of Nat’s hand. In front of her face. The rounded leather toe perfectly catches the edge of the pistol, the extending edge of the rubber sole running smoothly beneath her fingertips.

Nat inhales. Her brows furrow. She wants to lift her head, to jump to her feet. Another attacker? But how can she fight?

The panic rising in Nat’s chest makes her heart beat loudly in her ears. She can barely keep track of her surroundings.

The boot in front of her taps once, then a second one steps up beside it.

Nat expects the downed attacker to get up. Laugh at her. Enjoy hacking her up now that his buddy has arrived.

But the body adjacent to Nat’s shoulder stays still. He might be shivering.

The boots change stance at lightning speed, a twang breaks the silence, and wind rushes past Nat’s face. The sound of a solid strike follows.

Nat fights to lift her chin. If eyes meet eyes, she may be done for. But not moving might be worse. Nat’s so nauseated she decides she doesn’t mind facing death if she can maybe roll onto her side…

The boots have moved again, though. And an arm has Nat around the chest, pulling her onto her knees.

“Nat?” Fingers poke into her neck, looking for a pulse.

“Huh?” Nat blinks in the general direction of where would be the face, but sunglasses and a beanie result only in confusion and glare.

“Yeah, ok, come on.” The boots stand up, supporting a man, who’s supporting a very limp Nat. He’s not very tall. But lean. Strong. He’s dressed in winter combat gear. Dark colors. The whole shebang.

It’s deja vu in the complete; Nat’s fucked from all sides. She’s intoxicated on the clock, she’s seeing things, and it’s biting her in the ass. She’s lost a civvie. Her best friend. Now she’s being kidnapped. Or letting the city get attacked.

A flash of reality hits her, and Nat feels the man’s arms propping her up. She backhands him in the face, which catches him off guard enough for her to jump in front and plant her forehead into the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck, Nat, it’s me,” the man mutters, pinching his nostrils whilst keeping a hand on her so she won’t fall over.

“Oh.” Nat’s positive it’s her bad. Her fault. Tears spring to her eyes, and Nat shakes her head to be rid of them. She doesn’t take DXM anymore. She remembers now. The fallout is… less than ideal. Her legs are going to fall out from under her. She feels an insurmountable urge to burrow. Time and place don’t factor in.

Nat loops her arms over the mans,’ resting her palms on his shoulders from behind. Her forehead drops into his chest and sobs begin to rise, wracking her frame and leaving waves of aching nausea in their wake.

“Hey, Nat.” The man wraps his arm around her back and softly lifts the hair off the nape of her neck. “You’re— it’s— It’s gonna be fine. Alright?”

Nat can’t answer. The soft feeling of the high is back. It’s fleeting, almost gone. She can already feel the burning come-down and hangover. Pain. Shame. Guilt. So much guilt.

“Alright?” He won’t do anything until Nat says something. He’s good about consent and that kind of thing. Stopping on the highway when she needs the bathroom. Not getting angry when she makes mascara stains on his deep purple shirts.

There’s no makeup on Nat’s face to speak of today. The only spots she sees when she pulls away are a few drops of dark blood by the collar. His blood. Her fault. It makes Nat want to cry again, but her mouth is spitty, so she gulps and whispers, “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Clint gives her a wary once-over. “Can you make it five blocks? I can make it three and a cut-through, if you don’t mind going in and out of a building and then jaywalking. With a median.” He shrugs.

Nat leans back into him. “I drove,” she says.

“Where’d’ya park?”

Nat can’t remember. Nor is she sure where her keys are. She shakes her head. Tears spill down her cheeks.

Clint lets Nat deflate. He plays with her hair until she begins to cry properly, chokes herself, and gags. Then he holds her auburn strands in a low bun until she brings up enough liquid to clear the mucous slug gumming up her throat.

“Home now?” Clint asks. He doesn’t pose options now. He knows Nat’s too far gone.

Nat breathes for a moment. Opens her mouth. She swallows without meaning to, and it makes a sick clicking noise.

“Nat?”

“Mm.” She slowly moves her glazed eyes to meet the lenses of Clint’s shades. “Home.”

[foster-the-world]

Two scary things in one day

This afternoon I left the room with the baby on the floor and the girls playing at the table. Soon after I leave the room I hear him screaming. I run back in and he had rolled into the radiator. A half hour before it had been off so I hadn’t worried about it when I left the room. I knew it was off a a half hour earlier because my husband commented on how we need to figure out how to block it off as baby boy will be crawling any day now. That conversation was too late. He had a thick outfit on and bounced right off so not even a red spot. If he had actually burned himself I would have felt even worse than I did. However, the very scary part was that a burn mark, even a minor one, may have resulted in the agency removing him. I don’t know what they would do but even the thought of it is so scary. The last thing he needs is another move because I did something stupid. We can handle if he goes with his parents or a family member because that could be good for him and is what we signed up for but if it’s because I make a stupid mistake I don’t know if I could forgive myself. Anyway, really a non event story as he was totally fine. For now, we’ve got chairs blocking the radiator and will figure out a more permanent solution soon. 

Earlier in the day I went to pick up my Starbucks mobile order down the street from our apt. As I’m walking in I see a man yelling at a women. He’s got her against the wall and is screaming in her face. It felt violent or at least could get violent very quickly. Not wanting to leave her alone I watched for a minute or so. He didn’t seem to be letting up and it didn’t seem like she could get away so I asked if she was okay. So the guy starts yelling at me and coming my way. As he’s now facing me the women is able to leave.  I’m right by the Starbucks door so trying to decide if I can get in when two men come out and stand in between us. The men told him he’s not going to touch me. He starts yelling at them. The one guy protecting me says “if you touch me I will have to respond with self defense”. The guy is still mad but kind of backs off. The three of us go into Starbucks. Two minutes later the angry guy comes banging into the door yelling at the whole shop “now I’m really mad.” I’m on the other side of the room but the guy who protected me again tells him “if you touch me I’ll have to protect myself.” The guy yells a little more and then leaves. I’ve got my drink but the guys stays outside for ten minutes or so pacing back and forth. I don’t want him to see where I live so I wait until he crosses the street. The protector guy offers and then walks me around the corner. I thank him, of course. Thank goodness he was there. I hope that girl can get the help she needs to avoid him forever. I don’t know if I made the situation worse or better but I am glad she was able to leave. I imagine she would have been able to anyway but I’m just glad she did. 

[ravenforce]

Stark Legacy 4

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Wanda Maximoff x Maria Hill x Reader but Maria Hill x Reader centric for this chapter.

Summary: Four times Maria Hill finds the reader super cute but tells herself three girlfriends enough, and the one time she doesn’t hold back.

Word Count: 4884

A/N: Well, I didn’t plan for this to go almost 5k but here we are. And this is my first time writing, Maria Hill x Reader, so have mercy on me. I hope I gave it justice, and that you guys have fun reading this one as much as I had fun writing it. Let me know what you guys think. xx

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6

***

Happy startled from where he was lounging in the living room when he heard several footsteps coming from the hallway. He was already aiming his gun at the door when Carol walked in along with Nat, Maria, and Wanda. They looked unfazed in the face of a loaded gun.

“Hey, ladies?” It sounded more like a question than a greeting. He unloaded his gun, put it back down the centre table before walking to the bar where the girls sat. Nat was behind the counter already pouring drinks for Carol and Wanda. Maria, on the other hand, walked directly to the balcony to make a phone call to cancel the crew she called for awhile ago.

The room is tensed, Happy can sense it. Before he could question what’s wrong, Maria walked back in, and asked, “Did you know that Stark’s built a new iron suit?”

Ah! Now Happy understood what the tense silence meant. “Is she even gonna tell us?” Carol asked after turning her stool around to face him.

“Well -”

Wanda gasped before he can even say anything else. “What do you mean she’s just out testing her suit?” Happy looked at her with a straight face. He never got used to the young witch being on his head.

“Do you mean the suit’s not finished yet?” Nat looked like she’s trying to decide whether she’s uncomfortable, worried, or pissed. “Did you know what she did?”

Before Happy could answer though, the sound of your metal boots landing on the balcony made everyone turn towards you.

“Stop terrorizing the poor man, Tasha.” You walked slowly inside the penthouse, your suit retreating back inside your body. It was a design Tony planned for the next Iron suit that he never got to incorporate. You walked back to the couch and sat facing everyone at the bar.

“Did Fury know about this?” Maria asked as politely as she could while asserting her power as Deputy Director.

“No.” You answered simply. Before she can pose any question, you continued. “I’m not S.H.I.E.L.D, nor an Avenger. I don’t need to ask permission to anyone to do anything.”

Carol and Maria frowned a little with your blatant disregard of authority. Wanda kept quiet, knowing that you are right. They don’t have dominion over you. Still, behind the counter, Nat tried to hide her chuckle but knew she failed when everyone turned their attention to her. At that point, instead of reigning in her reaction, she started giggling uncontrollably. Carol looked at her like she just grew another head.

Maria having a slight idea as to why Nat is laughing, ignored her and turned back towards you. “May I speak to you in private?” she asked. You’re starting to like how badass Deputy Director Hill is well-mannered. You smiled before standing up and following her in your brand new study.

Nat watched you walk away with Maria. She has a feeling you will live up to the Stark attitude. Instead of getting a little pissed, she’s secretly happy to have Stark energy back in their lives. Sure, it was a little rough getting Tony to work along with everyone else but they made it, and she misses him every day since.

Happy sidled up to the smiling black widow, watching you and Maria speak inside the study with your door wide open. “It’s just like old times,” she whispered.

Happy chuckled, remembering how hard it was for Tony to even sign a contract with S.H.I.E.L.D at first, and how allergic he was to asking permission and being told what to do. “Yeah, just like old times.”

***

It wasn’t like old times. Maria learned that when she found you sitting on one of the benches outside HQ with a cup of coffee from Starbucks, and reading a paperback an hour earlier than you were expected. To say that she was surprised was an understatement. She expected you to be late for the meeting, the same way Tony was when they were trying to get him to sign his contract with S.H.I.E.L.D and the Avengers.

You looked up at her and immediately greeted her with a warm smile. “Good morning, Deputy Director.”

She eyed you curiously. “Good morning, you’re early.”

You smiled in a way that the artificial skin around your eyes crinkled adorably, and Maria is mesmerized. “Well -” you reached for the tumbler and handed it to her. She took it gratefully. “I never liked being late.”

It’s interesting to know that no matter how alike you and Tony are, there are still things that set you two apart. Maria is quite intrigued to find out what else makes you different. Maria gave you a small smile. “Shall we go inside?”

You meticulously put a bookmark on the page you were reading (because only demons use dog ears as a bookmark) before putting it inside your backpack.

“Lead the way, ma’am,” you said cheekily. Maria’s heart skipped a beat at that.

***

Maria mentally prepared for a long meeting with you and Fury but to yet another surprise, the meeting only lasted for an hour. After explaining your suit, Fury wasted no time in whipping out a contract that will sign you as a training agent with S.H.I.E.L.D for the moment. In the past, Tony made a huge fuss about being put in the lowest rank, they both expected you to do the same but no. You just asked Fury to hand the contract over so you can go through it. With your newly installed AI, you were able to scan the contract and understand it’s content within 2 minutes.

You procured a pen out of the pocket of your trouser and signed expertly on the side of each piece of paper. Fury was surprised but of course, none of it can be seen across his always impassive face. You slid him the side contract, and he caught it expertly.

“Very well -” He neatly put the contract inside a folder with your name labelled in front. “ - Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, Agent Stark.”

You grinned at the title. Maria bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling as well. Something about you is infectious it seems. “Thank you, Director.”

“Don’t give Agent Hill too much trouble,” Fury said before exiting the conference room.

“No promises, Director.” You said looking at Maria from across the table.

She rolled her eyes at you playfully. “I’m surprised you agreed to the contract easily.”

You laughed heartily, causing butterflies to erupt on Maria’s stomach, then a somber expression took over your face. You looked at the pen in your hand, you turned it over to look at your brother’s name carved on it. “Growing up, Tony and I were inseparable. Even with a few years ahead of me, everyone still manages to think we were twins because we like the same things, think almost the same way.”

You smiled remembering your childhood with Tony but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I know Tony’s a bit of work, and a pain in the ass when it comes to following orders but no matter how alike we were -” You looked up at Maria before continuing. “I’m not my brother, I’m not Tony.”

“I’m sorry -” She felt bad for comparing, she started to apologize but you cut her off.

“It’s okay. It’s a common mistake.”

You said it without resentment, just a fact. Even in the past, you never felt resentment over being compared to him in almost all occasions. You think it’s an honor to be even considered Tony’s equal but with him forever gone, people are bound to keep comparing and you’re not gonna live your second life living in his shadow. It’s not something he would want you to do. So you will point it out until people learn the difference between the two of you.

Maria nodded. She realized in that raw moment that regardless of your ball-jointed shell, and inhumanly perfect skin, you are still fully human inside; and she resolved to treat you like one better.

***

One of the perks of signing the contract with S.H.I.E.L.D was that Fury didn’t revoke your privilege to stay at the Tower with Happy. In return though, you are to report daily at the headquarters and will be closely working under Agent Hill. You frankly didn’t mind, Maria has been very professional since the day she and Happy found you in Tony’s last secret lab. You know that she’s very smart, and damn good leader. It also helps to point out that she’s very easy in the eyes. 

Yes, your soul may be housed in a robotic shell but you are still very much gay. Not that you think you have a chance with Deputy Director Hill, no. Happy has filled you in thoroughly about what you’ve missed, one of them being that the most badass women of the Avengers are actually dating Agent Hill. 

Now, how on earth do you think you’d ever had a chance to board that ship? The answer is you do not. Had you been your normal human self, it wouldn’t be a problem but you are not your normal human self. And you loathe to admit it - even to yourself - but having a fully robotic body is giving you insecurities you never had before.

So you do the what a Stark would in an event that they can’t get what they want: compartmentalize. Box the heavy feelings and drop it at the bottom of the ocean. So, the next day, you were more than ready to meet Agent Hill (or her girlfriends) without feeling flustered. 

“Good morning, Agent Stark.” Maria’s sudden greeting from the gym door startled you enough to cause you to punch a hole through the punching bag. Maria chuckled when she heard you curse under your breath. 

You looked up at her as she casually walks inside the room, wearing her tight training gear. So much for not being ruffled by feelings, you thought to yourself. “Good morning, ma’am. I can pay for the bag,” you said sheepishly. 

Maria stood a few feet away from you outside the mat. She turned around to put her gym bag down. “Don’t worry about it, we have so many of that in the stock room,” she answered before stepping away from her bag and bending down to start her stretching. She kept her back towards you, giving your full access to her tight ass, and you had to quickly avert your eyes to keep your system from overheating. 

“Agent Stark, I detect a spike to your shell temperature,” Edward, your newly programmed AI, spoke through the gym speaker. You internally pleaded for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. You thought it was a good idea to cast Edward to the gym system so he could play you some music while working out. Now, you know it was stupid especially after you looked back towards Maria who’s now smirking at you. 

Maria walked towards you and put a hand on your cheek. “Calm down, Agent Stark. We haven’t even started yet,” she whispered. Training daily was not a problem you said. Not going to be ruffled by gay feelings you said.

***

On days where you don’t have training, Maria always asks you to shadow her for the day while she does her job as deputy director. It’s in those days that Maria finds more reason to like you. On your first week, she found out that you’re even better with people than your brother. People used to always gravitate towards Tony because he was a force of nature that sucks in people in his orbit. You, on the other hand, is the calm after Tony’s storm, and people gravitate towards you because of your charming and dependable personality.

On the second week, she found out that while Tony likes reminding people that he’s a genius billionaire, you like keeping it on the down-low. It’s common knowledge that you are as much as a genius as Tony was but Maria appreciates your humility. In that same week, she also learned that you are a caretaker.

“Good morning, Agent Hill.” You greeted way too cheerfully. Maria turned towards you and was surprised to see you extending both your hands with coffee and pastry. She cocked her perfectly sculpted eyebrows at you. You smiled at her silent question. “You’re always here early. I’m assuming haven’t had breakfast yet. If you don’t want them, you can give them away.”

A pained looked briefly passes over Maria’s face like the thought of giving your gifts away pained her. “You’re right, I haven’t had breakfast yet. I didn’t wanna make too much fuss in the kitchen and risk waking Carol, and Wanda.” She took a bite of the still-hot Bearclaw. “Hmm. This is so good. Thank you.”

You smiled as you watch her eat up. “You said, you didn’t wanna wake Carol and Wanda. Where’s Tasha?”

Maria noted that you’re the only person at S.H.I.E.L.D that calls her girlfriend Tasha. “She always wakes up early but she’s hopeless in the kitchen.” Maria smiled fondly at the thought of Natasha. Then she looked up at you with mirth in her eyes. “Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

You two started giggling together.

***

The pastry and coffee became a habit. A part of it was you being obsessed with consistency but a bigger part of it was because you care about the woman. You’ve seen how busy she could be with training recruits, doing reports and paper works, coordinating missions, and attending meetings with Fury that she forgets to eat. So, every day like clockwork, no matter what happens or no matter where she is, you find a way to get Maria something to eat.

Just like how you found a way to send her, her daily fix of pastry and coffee while she was at the Avengers compound. Maria was on the balcony speaking with one of her agents when Happy waltz in.

“Happy! My man!” Sam yelled enthusiastically when he saw the man came in with boxes of doughnuts, a smaller paper bag, and a cup of coffee. “Is that for us?”

Happy greeted everyone before putting the doughnuts on the centre table. He made sure to put the smaller paper bag and coffee on a separate table. In Sam’s excitement over the prospect of food, he failed to get the message that the other package wasn’t for sharing.

“Uhm -” Happy tried to stop him but Sam already opened the small paper bag containing Maria’s Bearclaw.

“Oooh! Bear-” He didn’t manage to finish cooing over the pastry before Maria appeared before him with her standard S.H.I.E.L.D gun on his face. He let out an embarrassing yelp.

“Put my breakfast down Wilson or I’ll put you down myself.”

Sam gulped at the seriousness in Maria’s voice. He slowly put the bag down back on the side table and promptly put his hands up in surrender. “Damn, Hill. It’s just bread.”

It was all it took before Carol, Wanda, and Nat started laughing so hard. Sam turned towards his teammates and glared. Wanda recovered first and wiped the happy tears from her eyes. “It’s not just bread, Sam. It’s from her crush,” she said a little breathlessly from the laughing fit.

Sam turned to Maria who’s already sat down and nibbling quietly on her food with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You have a crush on Happy?” He asked incredulously.

Happy threw a pillow on the back of this head. “Ow! What?”

“It’s not from me, idiot.”

“It’s from Stark,” Carol said.

Sam turned towards Maria again. “You have a crush on Y/N?”

“Like I’m the only one,” Maria fired back. Making Sam turn towards the three, who are now turning bright red on their seat as well.

Sam and Bucky chuckled. “Well, hot damn.”

***

Exactly two months after starting your training with Maria, Fury decided you’re fit for more than just desk duty. No one was actually surprised at the decision. Aside from being more agile, more adaptable than any other recruit, you have also proven that you are just as smart as your brother was. Hence, making you as good as a tactician as he was.

On the day of your first mission, Maria came to work a little later than usual and she was surprised to only find her pastries but no you, sitting on her desk and waiting for her. She looked around to check if you’re in just loitering around other tables. You have, after all, been quite popular with the other agents. What with your insanely human-built, and charming personality.

“Agent Colson,” she called out when she saw the man passing by.

“Good morning, Agent Hill.” He greeted cordially. She was just about to ask you when Colson beat her to the subject. “I hope you don’t mind me borrowing Agent Stark, I’m one man short for today’s emergency mission.”

Maria was surprised but managed to give the man a tight smile. “Of course not,” she said shaking her head a little. “May I speak with Agent Stark before you leave though?”

“Of course, she’s probably out at the cockpit preparing with Daisy.”

***

Lo and behold, you are indeed in the cockpit, sitting on one of the metal crates. Your smile faltered a bit when you see the unreadable look on Maria’s face.

“What’s with the long face, Agent Hill?” You teased lightly. Agent Johnson kicked your foot in warning before walking away to give you two a little privacy.

“Nothing.” Her reply was short and clipped like she’s holding back on saying more. “Just -”

“Just?” You cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Just remember your training out there.” She shoved her hands at the back pocket of her dark jeans. “Don’t lose your head.”

It’s not like she doesn’t trust you to complete the mission. It’s not like she doesn’t trust Agent Colson’s team to have your back. They’re one of the finest agents in the organization but it still worries her that you’re going out there without her, or without one of her girlfriends at least. She will have to talk to Fury about it, she thought.

“I didn’t think you care so much, Agent Hill.”

You just couldn’t help teasing her especially when she looks like she’s struggling whether to admit to it or not with herself. Before she can answer though, Agent Johnson came back to tell you it’s time to take off. You nodded before jumping off the crate you’re seating on. Maria watched you leave before the quinjet closes, you turned back to her and winked. You caught a glimpse of her shaking her head to hide the faint blush on her cheeks.

***

The mission was fairly easy. It’s just supposed to be a recon mission. Get in, get intel, get out but like real life, not everything goes as planned. Right at the start, you were antsy, the place was way too quiet to be safe. It was even more suspicious when your team was able to get the intel you came for without meeting any hostile, nor any resistance.

“It’s a trap,” you whispered where your team are huddled in front of the computer. “Let’s pretend we hadn’t caught up to their plan.”

“What are you thinking?” Agent Grant asked while he types away on the keyboard.

“They’re going to ambush us on the way out,” you answered.

Everyone looked at each other. Agent Grant pulled the USB off the computer and turned towards you. “You should take this.” He pushed the device to your hand. “Just in case.”

You frowned. “Hold on a sec.” You snatched the device and slot it in your arm. Within a second, you pulled it back and gave it back to Agent Grant. He looked at you questioningly.

“I can’t hold on to that. They can shoot me, damage my operating system, deactivate me, and capture me.” Everyone got the message. “But I made a copy of what’s inside, just in case.”

“Okay. Let’s get this over with.” Everyone nodded. “Move out.”

***

As calculated, the ambush happened just before you can close the building. They’re waiting for you right in the open, with their annoying HYDRA uniform, and heavy artillery. No warning came before they started openly firing at your team.

You hear Agent Johnson barking orders in your comms. “Spread out, wait for my signal.”

You and Agent May run to the right, while Agent Johnson and Grant run to left and took cover on the thick trunk of the trees surrounding the vicinity. “They’re bound to run out of ammo. That’s our cue,” Agent Johnson spoke through the comms again.

Like clockwork, the gunfire stopped and the HYDRA soldier scrambled to reload their guns. Right on cue, the four of your stepped out of the shadow and started attacking the soldiers in close combat. You can see by the way they were uncoordinated that they weren’t expecting to be engaged that way. You took it as an opportunity to send powerful combination moves to immobilize as many hostiles as possible.

The fight lasted for at least an hour or more. Everyone took a moment to catch their breaths.

“Everyone okay?” Agent Johnson confirmed. The fight visibly took a lot from the team that they can only nod at the question.

“I think we better move out before more of these bad boys crawl out from where they came from,” you suggested. Nobody needed to be told twice. Nobody has any more energy left to fight a fresh wave of hostiles. Even you were running on your secondary battery pack.

***

A collective sigh of relief was heard once the quinjet was safely flying in autopilot. Everyone was already out of their tactical uniform when you emerged from the pit. Agent May smiled when she saw you walk in.

“Change out of your suit and try to relax a little,” she suggested. You started retracting your Phantom suit back to your body when Agent Johnson gasped.

“Agent Stark are you alright?” Agent Grant stood up to check you up. You were confused until you followed their line of sight.

“Oh.” Was all you could say when you saw the corrugated blade lodge a little off your left ribcage.

“Oh?” Your team asked in unison.

You sat down beside Agent Johnson. “What can we do?” She asked. By the hitch in her voice, you know she’s going frantic.

“Nothing as of the moment but I’m okay -” You said a little slower than you normally would, and your eyes started dropping. “-I have run diagnostic. It’s not a threat but it’s draining my batteries fast.”

Everyone calmed a little bit when they remembered you’re not entirely human anymore. “Okay. You should rest. We still have a few hours in the air,” Agent May suggested.

“I already sent a message for Happy. He will know how to handle me.”

***

True to your words, Happy was there when the quinjet landed. “Thank you,” he said to the team before rolling you away with the technical team. Maria arrived at the lab shortly after Happy got you in the table.

“What can I do to help, Happy?”

The man didn’t startle. Instead, he shoved a bunch of wires in her hands before going to the computers and started typing away.

“Can you attached those to Y/N’s body, please?”

Maria did as she was instructed to. After a few minutes, with the cables secure in various parts of your body, the lab light dimmed while the one at the exam table lit up. A program booted on the computer.

“Hello. I’m Edward, I’m Y/N Stark’s personal AI. What can I do for you?”

“Run diagnostics on Y/N.” Happy commanded the AI with practised precision.

“It appears that Ms Stark has suffered a stab wound on her left ribcage. No internal wirings or hardware has been compromised. Except for Battery Pack A.”

“Suggested course of action?”

“Replace battery pack A, and initiate skin repair protocol.”

Happy nodded solemnly while checking his work tablet. Maria standing on the side, just watching everything unfold.

“Edward, I just connected you to this lab. Run an inventory of supplies and equipment.”

After literally five seconds. “Inventory complete.”

Happy smiled thinking how you did well in programming Edward. “Do we have what you need to start Y/N’s repairs?”

“Yes.”

“Then initiate.”

“Copy that, Harold.”

***

The replacement of your battery pack and the repair on your skin only took 45 minutes. All of which was done by the industrial robots from Stark Industries. Happy and Maria looked on intently as machines whirred around you.

“Repairs complete,” Edward informed the pair both Maria and Happy who sighed their relief quietly.

“How long before she wakes, Edward?” Maria asked.

“In about 5 hours tops, Agent Hill. The protocol includes putting her on stasis as she fully charges all four of her batteries.”

“In that case, I’m going to get us something to eat first. This is stressful.” Happy declared while already almost halfway to the door.

***

Five hours, and a box of pizza later, you opened your eyes. You turn your head away from the light and saw Happy sleeping on the sofa in the lab. You smiled softly to yourself, happy to still have the man by your side.

“Hey.” You turned to your other side, surprised to see Maria sitting by your bedside and holding a book on robotics.

“Hey,” you choked out. There’s that unreadable expression on Maria’s face again. Lucky for you, you didn’t have to ask her any more about it before Maria closed the book in her hand and threw herself in your arms.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay.” You tried to assure her but Maria only tightened her hold on you.

“You scared me,” she mumbled against your chest.

You were inclined to make a joke about being invincible but by the looks of it, Maria wouldn’t appreciate it. So, you stopped deflecting to protect yourself from catching pesky feelings. You wrapped your hands around her a little tighter.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

[lustinglilac]

Everything About You

A/N: This is a long one but, I’ve been meaning to post it, just hadn’t had the time to edit it until now! It’s a couple of different parts happening over a span of 3 days leading up to them finally getting together. (Not based on any episode in particular)

Pairing: EZ Reyes x OC (Nestor’s sister)

Warnings: blood, death, shooting, guns, strong language, brief sexual harassment, 18+, smut, choking, oral (m/f receiving), vocal EZ, unprotected sex.

Word count: 33.1 k (sorry, I couldn’t stop typing)

*gif not mine*

Thursday, 2:15 PM She rolled over in her empty bed, sighing, plain white sleep shirt rising over the curve of her ass.

“Fuck!” She was going to be late to Miguel’s interrogation. Her phone had at least five missed calls from her brother and three messages from her boss, Miguel.

She braced herself for the angry man on the other line as she finally called him back, “Where the fuck are you, Nic?” Her brother’s voice coming through tight on the other side.

“Nestor, fucking relax. I just got up.” She admitted cringing at her words, hopping on one leg trying to put on her pants and talk to him at the same time. She stumbled over the mess of laundry she had on the floor of her room, kicking it to the side to deal with later.

“Hurry the fuck up. The guys are going to be here soon and I can’t have my right hand not show up.” He hangs up abruptly, not giving her a chance to respond. He could be so frustrating at times.

She looked at her outfit in the mirror before brushing her teeth and fixing her hair to look somewhat presentable.

She knew Miguel’s cartel dressed to the nines but, in all honesty, she couldn’t be bothered right now considering she was too late to pick out a decent outfit, going for a more laid back option.

2:35 PM She had a few more minutes before she had to show up, taking her chances, grabbing the keys to her Cadillac and running out the door. She stopped at their local Starbucks, the drive thru line surprisingly empty. Luck was definitely on her side today as she ordered her espresso and paid, downing the tiny cup in two gulps.

“Si tú me llama'. Nos vamo' pa' tu casa. Nos quedamo' en la cama. Sin pijama, sin pijama.” The radio played softly in the background, making her hum along; she came to a halt at the shady spot where people did not make it out alive most of the time.

It was three o’clock on the dot as she cursed under her breath, throwing her empty Starbucks cup on the ground and walking quickly into the building; her breathing never faltering thanks to her rigorous exercise routine.

“She’ll be here, Miguel, she was just running an errand for me—“ Nestor’s voice sounded as she rounded the corner, coming to a halt at the gate.

“I’m here.” She smiled, panting slightly, as twelve pairs of eyes landed on her. Some widened, others more dark as they looked at her from head to toe, eyeing her body. She walked past the men closest to the gate, the Mayans, excusing herself and making her way towards her boss.

Nestor shook his head, running a hand down his face as Miguel all but frowned at her. He had known her and Nestor since they were younger, always having their backs because he knew they always had his. Miguel smiled, pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek as she gladly accepted before flipping off her brother behind Miguel’s embrace.

“Gonna let me get one last fuck in before I die, Galindo? How fucking thoughtful of you.” A strangled voice seethed to her left as the room was stunned into dead silence now.

She bit her lip anxiously, closing her eyes, huffing quietly as Miguel held a firm grasp on her as not to let her interfere with what was going to happen next.

“Hijo de puta— what the fuck did you just say?” Nestor abandoned his position at the table of weapons altogether narrowing his eyes at the perpetrator, tied up to the pew and struggling to breath.

“Hermano—“ Her voice coming out small in the room full of men. She knew what he was about to do. The man on the wooden pew messed with the wrong Oceteva as realization dawned across his bloody face.

“That’s his sister?!” A muffled voice from one of the men in leather vests gasped before being shut up by another older gentleman.

“Please— I-I didn’t know! Please!” Nestor had already brought his gun to the traitor’s temple, pulling the trigger without hesitation. She flinched slightly as the man’s body lay limp on the seat, Nestor telling his men to clean up the mess.

“Sorry you had to hear that—“ Miguel apologized sincerely, patting the younger woman on the shoulder as she shrugged. She was used to seeing and hearing worse from men who thought she was just another easy girl, Nestor always coming to her defense when it did happen though. She’d always told him, “Nestor, I can handle myself.” Yet, he couldn’t help but be protective. She was his baby sister after all.

“It’s fine. What can I do for you, though?” She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched her brother’s movements behind Miguel. He was pissed the fuck off, to say the least.

“I’d like to introduce you to my newest hires.” He walked her over to the stunned men in the corner, who wouldn’t dare make eye contact with her. Hell, not after what just happened. She smiled tightly, despite wanting to roll her eyes at their sheepish behavior.

“They will be working with us, reporting back any suspicious activity going on that we may have missed. Although that is highly unlikely.” He stated matter of factly making her nod her head in agreement. “Gentlemen, this is Nicole Oceteva, Nestor’s second in command and his sister.” Miguel kept his naturally stoic posture as he introduced her.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Oceteva. We look forward to working with you.” She read the name tag of the person who had spoken to her, choosing his words carefully, Presidente.

“Please, call me Nicole.” She smiled warmly, sticking out her hand for him to shake. “I look forward to getting to know all of you.”

EZ furrowed his brows, eyeing her warily. How the hell had she been so comfortable after what just happened minutes ago?

“Bishop.” The older man returned her smile as he turned around to his crew and introduced them, “This is Riz, Taza, Tranq, Gilly.” He pauses to let them shake her hand hesitantly, “Coco, Angel, and EZ.” The younger looking Mayans more confident in stretching out their hands for her to shake.

She couldn’t take her eyes off of EZ as he had been introduced, his touch lingering the longest. She pulled away from his warm grasp on her hand immediately at the sound of her brother’s voice, “Nicole—“

Miguel let her go as he stayed behind, whispering something to the Mayans that had to do with business no doubt.  

EZ had felt the same, he felt a spark run up his hand as soon as she had taken it. He knew she could sense it, too. He watched her walk away, the sway of her hips distracting him, until Miguel cleared his throat, nearly catching him staring.

“You didn’t need to do that, Nestor—“ She huffed as the dead body had been taken away seconds ago, eyeing the pew in which it once lay.

He scoffed, stubborn as ever, “Nah, he deserved it, trust me. Next time, you come here on time, even earlier than when I tell you, I don’t want you slipping up again, understand?” He looked down at her shorter frame, trying to intimidate her but he knew better than that.

“Mhmm.” She mocked. They both knew she probably wasn’t going to kick her habit because Miguel was too lenient when it came to her, he loved her like his own sister considering he never had one, she was the closest thing.

The Mayans were long gone by now as Miguel strode back to the siblings in his tailored suit.

“Everything okay?” Miguel scanned her face for any signs of distress as she nodded confidently, attempting to grab one of the guns from her brother’s array of weapons.

“Yes. How’s Emily? And my nephew?” She asked eagerly as Nestor slapped her hand away, making her pout and turn back to her boss.

“They’re doing well. Your nephew misses you, Nicole, don’t be a stranger. You are always welcome in our home. In fact, I have a charity event set up for this weekend, I would love for you to be there.” Miguel spoke as one of his men put on his suit jacket for him, straightening it out.

She contemplated her decision for a moment, tossing her hair to the side, “She’ll be there. I could use the help anyway.” Before she even had a chance to answer, her brother had spoken for her.

“Great. Saturday night, six o’clock sharp.” Smoothing down his collar, he turned on his heel and exited the building. She grinned politely until he was out of sight and then turned to frown at her brother.

“You’re not my lawyer, I don’t understand why you need to answer for me.” She stomped her foot like a child.

“When you start acting right, I’ll consider it.” Nestor huffed and fixed the holsters hanging under his arms.

“You literally embarrassed me in front of those guys! Three of which were so fucking cute!” She clenched her jaw tightly, wanting nothing more than to shove him into the wall for being so protective.

“Hey, watch your mouth.” He raised his eyebrows at her confession. “I won’t let you get involved with some lowlife who worships his bicycle.”

She could not believe how persistent her brother was, “Pretty sure they’re motorcycles. And next time don’t bother calling me when I’m running late. I’ll show up when I want to.” She turned away from him and strutted out of the stuffy room and into the daylight, Nestor hot on her heels.

“You stopped for coffee? Really, Nic?” He scoffed as he kicked the discarded paper cup towards her.

“I was thirsty!” She grumbled and slammed her car door shut, thanking God she didn’t have to see him until at least the night before Miguel’s gala. It’s not that they didn’t have a good relationship as brother and sister but he did manage to get on her nerves, a lot of the time.

She finally calmed down and put her car into reverse, backing out into the street, deciding on not heading home just yet. She made her way past the busy streets, traffic hitting hard at this time of the day. She finally got to where she wanted, pulling over into the designated parking spot.

She needed to find a decent dress for Saturday, she couldn’t show up in just anything. And if her favorite Mayan, at the moment, was going to be there Nicole definitely wanted to step up her game.

She was welcomed immediately into the air conditioned boutique, as the ladies had come to recognize her since the few times she’d shopped there with Emily.

“Nicole, what can we do for you?” The store manager smirked as she stalked towards her favorite customer. Nicole didn’t respond just yet as she eyed the rack of new dresses that hadn’t even been taken out of their plastic bags.

“Hmmm... I need a dress. Preferably long, preferably blue. Nothing too revealing but also, I don’t wanna look like a nun.” She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow as the staff scrambled to find her what she’d just described.

She took a seat on the plush sofa as they presented her dress after dress, flipping through them like pages of a magazine. Until one finally caught her eye, it was gorgeous right down to the detailing. It was the only one that had been on an actual mannequin.

“I’ll take it.” Nicole was floored by the way it looked on the mannequin and to be honest, she couldn’t wait to wear it. She’d have to find a way to conceal her thigh holster in it considering that the hip-high slit left little to be desired. Nestor was going to flip out, but she didn’t care. She wanted it more than anything.

“And it’s just your size. It was meant to be, Nicki.” The manager held her hand out greedily to take her credit card, swiping it and packing the dress neatly into a box, handing her the bag.

“Muchas gracias, chicas.” She blew them a kiss and walked out into the warm air of her town once again.

She couldn’t wait to get home to try on the dress, speeding off in the direction of her house. Nicole grabbed her belongings and headed inside, dead bolting her door and running down the hall to her room.

She stripped off her clothes leaving her in a black lace thong and her bra, taking the dress out and placing it up against her body, the smooth silk fabric rubbing against her skin softly. She slipped it on with ease, the fabric tightening at her waistline and flowing loosely down the back of her legs.

Nicole picked up her thigh holster, securing it around her thigh to test it, it would definitely not be concealed but she’d have to deal with the consequences if she wanted to wear this stunning piece. And she really did.

With a soft sigh, she took the dress off carefully, placing it back in its box for safe keeping.

Nicole walked down the hall to her spacious kitchen, preparing herself a bowl of pasta and sunk down into the couch to enjoy it. Before she knew it, she’d dozed off with the TV playing in the background, a small blanket draped over her body. ••• “You got a deathwish? Hey, EZ—“ Angel was fuming as his brother had pissed him off yet again.

“What?” The younger Reyes turned around abruptly, glaring at Angel.

“Don’t do it man, I saw that look in your eyes. Nestor’s sister, don’t fucking do it.” He warned him as Ezekiel scoffed loudly.

“What look? I didn’t do shit, Angel. Tranquillo.” He was getting defensive and Angel knew better than to press him. Not yet at least.

“She’s the competition. You never fuck the competition.” Coco piped up from his spot at the bar, downing his beer in a few quick sips.

“What do you know about competition, loco?” Gilly couldn’t help but comment.

“Matter fact, what do you know about fucking?” Angel waited for a reply from the Mayan, grunting amusedly when he didn’t get one, “That’s what I thought.”

“Blowing this out of proportion, as always.” EZ was beyond angered at the way they spoke about a woman they barely even knew. He wondered if she’d be there Saturday night.

They’d been invited to Miguel’s gala as a second pair of eyes and ears. Bishop hesitantly accepted since he knew it wouldn’t really be their scene but, they were desperate for money so they took the invite anyway.

EZ was tired from the day’s events, slipping out of the clubhouse, driving his bike all the way to his father’s, settling in for the night.   ••• “Nicki! Open the door!” A loud banging on her front door interrupted her training session, pausing her music making her huff loudly running to answer it at the sound of her brother’s voice.

“What, Nestor?!” She swung the door open aggressively, wiping the sweat off of her brow and going back to her workout in the spare room.

He came in with two other guards she hadn’t seen before, she figured they were new hires considering the event was going to be packed with strangers and it was being held in Miguel’s own home.

Nestor held up a blueprint of the mansion to her face, “We need to go over the layout.”

She sighed loudly, stopping her assault on the punching bag and looking between him and the two new members, “I’m listening.”

“We keep it tight, secure, we have eyes and ears in every corner of the room, got it?” Nestor laid the paper flat on the desk in front of them, “This hallway right here has no cameras, it’s a weak spot, that’s where Nicole will be positioned. You two, front entrance, ID guests and make sure their names appear on the list.” He spoke aggressively, making sure his crew heard every word of the plan.

“This,” She motioned to the group, “Could’ve been a group FaceTime, Nestor, not a house visit.”

“That’s what I said.” One of the new guys snorted, earning a death stare from his boss.

She rolled her eyes at the way the man shut up immediately, apologizing to Nestor, not daring to look at him.

“Yes! Thank you, he gets it!“ She turned to the young man bold enough to speak back to her brother, “Don’t let him intimidate you.” She winked.

“That’s enough!” Nestor’s hand coming down harsh onto the wooden desk, crumpling up the blueprint, “I’ll see you on Saturday Nicole, and don’t be fucking late.” With that, he and his men left her home letting her get back to her activities.

She locked the door behind them, downing a water bottle, breathing quite heavily as she checked her phone for any new messages.

With a heavy sigh, she got up from the couch, heading for her shower to cool off. She needed to do her nails, picking a nice red color from her selection of nail polishes before stepping into the mist of water.

She washed off the sweat, shaving off the thin layer of stubble that had accumulated on her legs before doing the same to her underarms. She stepped out, drying off her body and applying some moisturizing cream, she sat at her vanity concentrating on shaping and filing her long nails perfectly.

Once she was pleased with the way they’d come out, she waited until they were dry to start touching anything. She needed to get her things ready for tomorrow evening.

She neatly folded her clothes and placed them in their respective drawers before tidying up her bed. She would have to be on high alert the whole night considering she had one of the weaker spots to guard. She picked out an outfit to wear for the remainder of the day, settling on a black shirt and a pair of cargo pants with sneakers.

She forgot that she promised her brother she would have dinner with him tonight, checking the time in order to start cooking something up to bring over to his place.

Dinner time rolled around, Nicole grabbing her belongings and heading over to Nestor’s. He didn’t live far, about fifteen minutes away by car; they used to live together until Nicole wanted to have her own space and Nestor his which was understandable.

“Qué pasó?” She smiled as he opened up the door to his lavish home, not a speck of dust anywhere.

“Hey. Thought you wouldn’t show.” He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, ruffling her hair slightly and taking the glass tupperware from her hands.

“You ready for tomorrow night?” She spoke, setting up the island with two plates and utensils, uncovering her food. She hummed pleasantly as the smell filled her nostrils.

Nestor looked at her, “Yeah, we have everything secured. What are you wearin’?” He asked her around a mouthful of salad.

“A dress.” She tried to divert the attention to another subject, “You?”

“Okay, why’re you actin’ so weird? What color? Maybe I’ll match with you.” He laughed loudly at the disgusted look on her face, not that he was planning to match with her but it was funny to rile her up.

“Don’t even. People already think we look like twins, let's not give them another reason to add to the list.” She scoffed.

They wrapped up their dinner silently, getting comfortable on each end of one of his couches, watching whatever movie was playing on TV. The siblings enjoyed one another’s company, as much as they won’t admit it, because growing up they only really ever had each other.

It was getting dark out and Nicole really didn’t wanna be falling asleep at the wheel, calling it a night as Nestor walked her to the door, “See you tomorrow, hermana. Get home safe.”

Before she could respond, a knock at the door startled her as she looked at her brother with a  curious expression, “You expecting someone?”

“Ah shit. It’s the bike riders.” He opened the door up, revealing the same men she’d seen yesterday, smiling at them over Nestor’s shoulder.

Her eyes scanned the group of them for EZ, not being able to tell who was who underneath their helmets and the fact that it was quite dark out.

“Nestor, can we talk?” Bishop spoke calmly. Nestor grunted a response, seeing his sister out in order to handle the business until she protested, wanting to hear what they had to say.

“Absolutely. What about?” Nicole stood at the doorway, questioning the older man. Bishop looked over his shoulder at his club, looking back to the siblings with a grin.

“Nicole— I excused you. You can go.” Nestor pointed his stare at her, motioning for her to leave.

She scoffed, raising her eyebrows, wanting so badly to argue with him right now but deciding not to, “Ugh. You’re fucking annoying, and don’t forget it. Goodbye.” She stomped her foot, huffing in frustration as Nestor snickered obnoxiously at her attitude.

“What did you want to talk about?” Nestor’s hushed voice sounded behind her.

She was barely watching where she was going as she headed to her car, catching herself before she bumped into a mass of muscle, “Excuse me.” She whispered harshly, looking up at the figure.

It was him. Her breath caught in her throat, she was flustered for the first time and if anyone knew Nicole, they knew she never got flustered that easily.

“Sorry.” EZ coughed, moving out of her way, a few snickers were heard behind him.

“No, don’t be. My fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She bit her lip, watching him shift his eyes between her and her brother at the door who hadn’t noticed their interaction yet.

“All good.” EZ smiled down at her smaller frame, mentally face palming himself for his lame choice of words. All good? Really, Ezekiel?

“Well, have a goodnight. See you around.” Her eyes held a glimmer of hope that he’d return the same words.

“Yeah, see you around.” He breathed out, keeping his distance, just as Bishop had finished conversing with Nestor.

With that, she left the scene, hot and bothered, all eyes on her due to the interaction that just occurred. ••• Slipping on the beautiful silk fabric, she secured her gun to her thigh holster, trying to conceal it as best as she could; the thigh high split really brought attention to that part of her legs.

Nicole was almost ready to go, checking often to make sure her brother hadn’t arrived to pick her up yet. She made sure her purse had all of her essentials in it and put on one more coat of lip gloss just for safe measure. She figured she wasn’t going to get on Nestor’s nerves tonight considering it was a huge event and it was important to Miguel.

She slipped on her heels, making sure they were snug before heading down the hall slowly, adjusting her dress every now and then. Her hair flowed down her back, makeup kept to a minimum as not to overpower the color and details on her dress.

Nestor was outside with his men, honking once to signal his arrival just as she closed the door behind her and turned around, eyes following her every move to the waiting car.

“Where’s the rest of your dress?” Here he goes again. She rolled her eyes at his old fashioned thinking, flipping him off and settling into the passenger seat, smiling over her shoulder at two of their men who occupied the backseat.

“Not even a ‘Hi Nicole, how are you?’ ‘Oh, Nicole you look beautiful’.” She hit his shoulder.

Nestor scoffed, continuing to drive for another few minutes before pulling up to the lavish mansion. It was a quarter to six when they’d arrived and some guests had already begun populating the front yard, waiting to be checked by security.

She opened her door, swinging her legs out as elegantly as possible, trying not to catch the dress on anything. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she strutted past the front door with Nestor and his posse, winking to the two younger men who had been at her house the other day.

Miguel turned around upon hearing the doors open, “Que bonita. You look beautiful, as always.” He marveled at the young woman, pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek just as Emily emerged with her son on her hip.

“Nicole! Oh my goodness.” Emily gawked at her from head to toe, eyes wide as she took in what she was wearing.

“Hey! I missed you!” They hugged each other tightly.

Nicole placed a kiss on her nephew’s cheek as he smiled at her, “I cannot get enough of that face. Look how big you got!” She cooed.

The ladies had a lot to catch up on since the last time they’d seen each other, gossiping and laughing occasionally as guests poured in. Her eyes searching every now and again for the soft brown ones she’d grown accustomed to.

She kept a watchful eye out for that hallway Nestor had positioned her to, making sure no one went out of their sight of vision. After an hour of chatting with guests and receiving multiple compliments, and some stares due to her scandalous dress, he finally decided to show up.

Her breath caught in her throat as she turned around, facing the handsome man who wore all black and he looked damn good. She bit her lip absentmindedly as she watched him, easily slip through the crowd, not once leaving his club’s side.

“You’re drooling, hermana.” Nestor nudged her, smirking once he caught sight of who it was she was staring at.

She gasped, “Shut up.” Grumbling something under her breath, she turned around, taking a sip of her drink and conversing with the men at the bar. She threw her head back, laughing at a story, completely missing the fact that some scumbag was trying to talk her up. Though, the boys around the bar were quick to shut up, on guard as the sleeze made a scene.

“Beautiful body and easy access? I could have fun with you.” He slurred, bold enough to thrust his hand out to grab her exposed thigh.

She clenched her jaw, shocked that someone had the nerve to come up to her like this, looking around her at the stunned faces, the whole room going silent, as she turned around slowly catching the perp’s hand, twisting it back with a vengeance, moving her body out of the way to slam his head into the wooden bar, pulling him back by his hair as he groaned in pain, nose gushing blood.

“Not so fucking easy now, huh?” She seethed in his ear as she let go of him harshly, the man stumbling back nearly unconscious, guests moving out of the way to let him fall to the ground. He choked on his own tongue as the men behind her pulled him up, dragging his body outside.

“If this motherfucker got blood on my dress—“ She huffed silently checking the fabric for any signs of red spots. She sighed out of relief once she saw that her dress hadn’t been dirtied.

“You good?” Nestor came to her side immediately, making sure his sister was okay before proceeding to deal with the drunken bastard outside.

She smiled politely at the people still staring, making her way to the hallway that she was securing, knowing they wouldn’t know where she was. She needed a second to breath.

EZ had been watching though, the whole ordeal from the moment the man had made a bet with his buddy at the bar that he could land “that hot piece of ass” and it made his blood boil but he wasn’t going to make a scene. Her expression was deadly, he noted, as she turned around to face the bastard. He was stunned but kind of turned on at the fact that she was able to handle her own.

“Man, I wouldn’t wanna fuck with her.” Coco had commented next to him as they were taking the drunkard out of the room. EZ simply grinned, watching as Nicole composed herself and walked off, eyes following her body the whole way down a dark hallway.

“I’m gonna go find the bathroom.” He downed the rest of his drink, fixing his jacket as he stood, looking around discreetly making sure no one saw him follow her.

There they were, together, in a secluded corridor of Miguel’s mansion, tension at an all time high.

Her eyes had to be deceiving her as she gasped, looking at the man standing in front of her, “You lost?” She asked him, pretty eyes widening as he shook his head sheepishly.

“Nah, I’m right where I wanna be, actually. You okay? I saw what happened—“

She stepped closer, almost closing the space between them, heat radiating off both of their bodies, “I’m okay. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She shrugged nonchalantly, meeting his gaze once again.

“Good. Just wanted to make sure.” EZ reached his hand out cautiously, holding her small jaw in his much larger hand tilting her head up, “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. I know, better than anyone, this is a man’s world, they’re intimidated by you, shit, most of my guys are too. You’re somethin’ else, Nicole.” He inched closer until she melted into him, lips pressing softly into hers.

He pulled away, realizing where he was, “Shit. I’m sorry.” But he wasn’t met with resistance, instead she pulled him back down by the lapels of his suit jacket, whimpering softly when she caught his lip with her teeth.

She pulled back breathlessly, panting slightly, lips swollen and wet, “Fuck me.” Her doe eyes looked up at him, tempting him to take her right then and there.

He groaned lowly, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, if he wasn’t hard two minutes ago, he was definitely rock hard now. His self control was slipping more and more as she took his hand, running it down her body to the thigh high slit that could make any man fall to his knees.

She watched him the whole time, even when she took his long, thick fingers and slid them past her holster and into the flimsy thong covering her pussy, his breath hitching slightly as he felt how fucking wet she was.

She shivered as he finally took control, swiping a finger up her slit collecting the sweet cum that pooled there, bringing his hand out and up to her waiting mouth as she sucked on his fingers, moaning softly around them, shooting a wave of pleasure straight to his cock.

He leaned down to press his lips to her temple, “Are you sure?” He asked her as she let go of his fingers with a pop.

“Yes, please.” She nodded her head waiting for his next move.

He shut his eyes for a second, breathing out, reveling in the way she spoke so politely. She was going to be the death of him, literally and figuratively.

EZ slowly backed her up to the wall, the molding digging into her back as she gasped, pressing his lips to hers once more desperately. He needed to feel her, to taste her right now.

He grunted as she pressed her hips into his, bringing her palm down to cup him through his black slacks, “Fuck, I been wanting this since the day I first saw you. You’re perfect.” He grinned softly at her as she stared up at him, wanting more.

“Then do it, EZ. Ruin me.” She tempted him. He didn’t need to hear anything else after that, eyes clouded with desire as he kneeled down in front of her, grabbing her left calf and placing it on one of his sturdy shoulders.

She literally felt like she was dreaming, she, like him, couldn’t believe this was happening right now. He nudged her clit over her thong, rubbing it till she whimpered for him, pulling down her thong harshly and spreading her lips with his fingers to his hungry gaze.

“Perfect. Everything about you is.” He hummed making her throb, pressing her head into the wall behind her as he leaned in, pressing his tongue flat to her pussy.

“Oh, fuck.” She was a mess above him and he’d barely even started. As per her request, he was definitely going to ruin her.

He licked at her clit, then fucked her with his tongue, adding a single finger to the equation, “That’s tight.” He growled against her, chin wet with her arousal as he continued his assault.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck.” She whimpered, barely catching her breath, the only sound in the hallway was that of her soaked cunt. Her ears were ringing, her vision nearly went black when he curled his finger against that one spot that made her dizzy.

She was dripping, making a mess on his face, and he couldn’t stop, her smell alone enticing him wanting to make her cum at least 4 times with just his mouth.

“Gonna cum?” He hummed, pressing deeper and rubbing her clit even faster as her body tightened and then spasmed without warning, her release covering his hand down to his wrist.

“Oh my god. You were fucking made for that.” She praises him, pulling him up for a searing kiss.

“I could barely get two fingers in you. So fucking tight.” He spoke against her mouth, biting her lip and letting it go making her giggle.

“I wanna return the favor. Please.” She spoke eagerly, cupping him through his pants again. He was huge, she could already tell and it excited her that much more.

“Nah, you don’t have to—“

“But I want to, EZ. I want you to fuck my mouth.” She pouted.

For the second time that night, he’d lost his cool, his desire for her overpowering his mind. She pulled him into the empty spare room that she knew all too well, having spent multiple sleepless nights in there when she had nowhere else to go, when Miguel was kind enough to help her out for a few months before she could stand on her own two feet.

“Woah— whose bed is this? I don’t wanna intrude.” EZ tugged on her hand, making her stop and explain.

“Don’t worry. It used to be mine. No one’s gonna find us, trust me.” She assured him as he eased up only slightly, the dreaded thought of someone catching them still in the back of his mind.

She kicked off her heels, hiking up her dress, getting onto the large bed, “EZ, relax. Wanna make you feel good.” She was level with his face now as she pulled him closer to her and made him sit back against the headboard.

Her eager hands undid his belt buckle and then his zipper, reaching a hand into the waistband of his boxers, feeling his cock pulsate under her touch.

“Fuck.” He grunted breathlessly, helping her pull him out all the way, pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs a little more.

“Shit. You’re big.” She gasped quietly, seeing him in all his glory, his cock fully erect and leaking cum at the tip. She took him into her hand, pumping slowly, biting her lip as she watched him struggle not to thrust into her hand.

He couldn’t take it anymore, beginning to push her head down gently towards his dick, “Gonna take me all the way in your throat? Fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

Nicole let out a satisfied hum at his words, she licked a long line from the underside of his cock to the top, repeating the action again making the Mayan hiss at the divine feeling.

“Keep doing that, yeah, just like that— fuck.” He groaned sending a wave of heat straight to her pussy. As embarrassing as it was, she was wet again just from his words.

She tested the waters, delving deeper, licking and sucking, the slurping noises obscene in the darkness of the room.

He pushed her head down deeper, fingers threading through her hair as he guided her on his length, her tongue never ceasing.

“Mmmm, fuck.” He gasped, jaw going slack as he watched her incredible mouth take what she can of him, her hand doing the rest of the work at his base. He thrusted into her mouth making her gag lewdly around his tip, sending him over the edge for the first time.

She swallowed every last bit of his seed, wiping some spit at the side of her mouth. She unbuttoned his shirt quickly, wanting nothing more than to feel the abdominal muscles underneath and lick at his tanned skin.

She straddled his waist, careful not to step on her dress, the thigh high slit proving to be of use in this situation as she grinded down on his bare cock.

EZ palmed at her breast, pulling down the cup revealing to him a shiny metal bar pierced through the nipple, swiping a calloused thumb across it, making her arch into his rough touch, “So sexy. Wanna fuck you, make you mine, baby.” He licked at it, the coolness of the bar sending a shiver down his own spine.

She took it upon herself to grab at his cock, aligning him with her soaking wet hole, sinking down slowly as both their breathing nearly stopped at the sensation.

“Fuck, yes.” She whimpered as he adjusted his grip on her curvy hips, scrunching up her gown just enough to get a good hold on her to thrust upwards.

“Too fuckin’ tight, shit.” He struggled to catch his breath and bottom out at the same time, inching his way into her making sure she was comfortable enough. He finally bottomed out, staying still for a minute until she clenched around him deliciously, begging him to move.

She whimpered when he finally decided to give a little testing thrust upwards, his cock engulfed in her warm, wet pussy, never wanting to leave. She couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan, the feeling all too much for her to handle.

She grinded down on him one more time before he took matters into his own hands, ridding himself of his dress shirt and placing a chaste kiss to her swollen lips.

“Wanna get a better angle, mi amor— make sure you feel me.” He grunts, pulling himself painfully slowly out of her, leaving her to clench around nothing, her thighs burning.

He placed her legs to the side, helping her slide the dress down her body until it was all the way off, leaning his head down to kiss just above the soft skin of her navel.

She didn’t have a moment to compose herself before she was being coaxed down gently to her hands and knees, ass up in the air for his viewing pleasure.

“EZ, please—“ She let out a breathy moan as the cool air hit her most sensitive spot that he’d been in just a minute prior. He cursed, watching her pussy still clench around nothing and listening to her breathing pick up.

“I got you, sweetheart.” He promised her, placing a soft kiss to the bottom of her spine, making her shiver. She was dripping, her core pulsed with anticipation of what was going to come next from him.

He wrapped a calloused palm around each one of her thighs, spreading her for him, pumping his length once more before inserting himself into her. Her walls stretched to accommodate him, though he couldn’t see it, her face contorted in the pain and pleasure of it all. Her grip on the sheets below her tightened as he pulled her back onto him, making her hiss softly.

“Nicole— shit.” EZ grunted behind her,  struggling to catch his breath as she clenched around him wanting him to move already.

He wrapped a hand around her hair, arching her back into him, and thrusted in and out of her tight heat. Her breath caught in her throat, choking on her words at the new position.

“Yes, baby, oh fuck!” She panted, barely able to form any other words.

Ezekiel let go of her hair, bringing his palm to rest against the column of her throat and squeezing a tiny bit, kissing the side of her cheek and groaning into her ear when he felt her pussy squeeze his cock as he’d done so.

Oh, so she was into that shit? Ezekiel smirked against her cheek, choking her just enough, bringing his other hand down to rub harsh circles into her clit. Her nails sunk into the wrist between her thighs when her body almost gave out, writhing with pleasure as he held her tightly against him.

“Don’t fucking stop— oh my god.” Her throat raw from the activities as she continued to meet his thrusts, feeling the swollen head of his dick press against her g-spot vigorously with every snap of his hips.

“Let go— cum for me, baby.” EZ sighed in her ear, the fingers on her sensitive clit never easing up. He felt her body tense, milking his cock for all it was worth as she came.

“Where the fuck did she go?” A muffled voice accompanied by footsteps sounded in the hallway.

“Shit—“ She was panting and gasping as she came down from her high but he had yet to find his own release.

“Can you stay quiet for me? Hmmm?” EZ whispered, pulling out of her swollen, dripping cunt and flipping her onto her back. She nodded wordlessly as he penetrated her once more.

“Feel so fucking good— wanna stay here forever with you.” The Mayan grunted, placing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, thrusts never slowing down as he chased his own orgasm.

She let a loud moan slip between her lips. EZ clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes rolled back as the tight feeling in the pit of her stomach returned. She was about to cum for the third time that night.

The snap of his hips began to get sloppier, eventually tempting him to pull out, thick white cum painting the lower half of her abdomen.

“Wow—“ She gasped softly before being cut off.

The door handle to the room they were currently using jiggled, his eyes flitting between her and the locked door. He huffed quietly, pulling on his boxer briefs and helping Nicole slip on her thong.

“EZ—“

“Ezekiel— my name’s Ezekiel.” He whispered, smiling at her.

“Ezekiel— I really enjoyed this. Us. And I don’t want it to be a one time thing—“ Her eyes held a glint of hope that he’d felt the same way.

“Yeah, me too.” He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly. Before they even had time to react, the door swung open harshly.

“Get the fuck out. Right now.” Nestor’s voice deadly as the two of them pulled away. She barely even had her dress on, grabbing the comforter off the bed and shielding herself from her brother’s view and the extra eyes behind him.

“Nestor wait—“ Her voice wavered, she couldn’t look him in the eye, especially not now.

“Nah— get fucking dressed. Party’s over.” Nestor seethed, glaring at the half naked man standing next to his sister, “I’m not done with you yet, puto.”

With that, he and his men left them to get dressed. Ezekiel shook his head, mind racing a thousand miles a minute.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” She sighed, wiping away the single tear that ran down her face.

“Hey, hold on, what’re you sorry for?” He took her jaw in his palm holding it gently and caressing the skin of her cheek, “Family is family. He’s always gonna worry about you, he’s your brother. Believe me, I know more than anyone.”

“I’m honestly surprised he didn’t shoot me—“ He chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

“I wouldn’t have let him.” She sniffled, shutting her eyes for a split second before composing herself.

“Oh, yeah? My protector, huh?” He smiled down at her, kissing the top of her head, taking her smaller hand in his and walking out of the room.

[1kook]

baecation

Jeon Jeongguk x (F) Reader

summary⥗“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart. tags⥗richboy!jk, -3 knowledge of how vacations work, domestic love!!!, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, fingering, jk’s white ass cheeks mention wc⥗5.9k u ever randomly get inspired for the first time in 2 months and write a whole fic in one night anyway enjoy

There were many perks to dating the heir of your city’s top conglomerate, the endless showering of gifts being one of them, but your favorite thing about your boyfriend wasn’t his overflowing pockets or his secure future, but the lovesick look in his eyes when you told him how much you loved him.

Jeongguk was an enigma.

He was born to be the stereotypical rich boy that authors of teen fiction could only dream of, his looks suitable for magazine covers and his brains destined for top-notch universities. His bloodline was carefully crafted by generations before him, every marriage carefully planned and executed with the ultimate goal to preserve their place in society as apex predators. In fact, Jeongguk’s entire life had been one big script his family had carefully pushed him along, from the fencing classes he took to the hiring of the nation’s best nannies to care for him, all subtle enough for him to not complain but demanding enough that he knew what was going on.

The only thing they hadn’t planned in Jeongguk’s life was him meeting you.

They had never planned for him to meet some middle-class girl, who was definitely not an heiress to any particular company or celebrity of any level, just some random girl he had accidentally bumped into leaving a charity event at the local community park. They hadn’t planned for his long, gangly arms to knock your phone out of your hand, or send it tumbling into the lake as you both watched on in horror. It was only after the quiet plop of water registered in both your ears that you had whirled on him, half of you in shock and the other in fury.

Jeongguk was, as previously stated, handed everything on a silver platter. His parents hardly bothered with teaching him how to do things. He barely understood how to work a washing machine, because all of that was done for him by other people. At the moment, he didn’t have to bother with taking an entrance exam to the best university this side of the country because he knew his parents would pay for the entire thing out of pocket. He especially didn’t ever have to worry about what to do when random girls scolded him in public sight, because frankly, it would never happen.

Yet here he was, completely startled as you told him to watch where he was going, and to learn how to apologize to people when you’ve done something wrong. He’d never had someone of a lower status than him treat him so aggressively before, and when you pause to catch your breath all he can stumble out is that he’ll replace your phone, he’ll even buy you the best model, what was your number so his people could reach out to you again?

The last sentence has you groaning in frustration, as you pointed furiously towards the lake, because how on earth was he supposed to contact you when your phone was 20 feet below surface level?!

After another fifteen minutes of you continuing your verbal rampage against him, the entirety of it which he’d spent fending off his security guard and his assistant (both who’d been appalled that he’d willingly let this peasant swear and curse at him) as he stared at you in awe.

When you finally calmed down and he’d offered to take you to the Starbucks across the street to figure out the details of your phone replacement, he’s surprised to find out your normal disposition is nothing like the one you’d first shown him. In fact, you’re rather sheepish and embarrassed at the coffee shop, albeit still a little upset with him for trashing your phone.

After you’ve finished nailing out the little details of your phone replacement, which included you hesitantly giving him your address, he leaves right away. He’s sad to leave so soon, having become completely enthralled with your entire being in the thirty minutes he’s come to know you, that he finds himself hopelessly staring out of the backseat of the Benz as he travels back to his upscale apartment in the heart of the city. He hopes you don’t forget him so soon.

To say you’re surprised to see a package on your doorstep the next morning is an understatement. You remember every online purchase you make, and if memory serves you right, you hadn’t made one in the past month to warrant its arrival today. After glancing down both ends of your hall, you tug the mystery package inside.

In hindsight you probably should have been more cautious of the entire situation, but part of you was extremely curious to see what brought this surprise on. After tugging the tape off and shuffling through the packing peanuts you’re met with a sleek box for the hottest and most expensive phone right now, a pink bow carefully tied around to secure a note.

One of our guard’s fished around the lake for the phone I misplaced and managed to retrieve the memory card. I hope you won’t mind the new contact I added.

Best,

Jeon Jeongguk

And thus was the start of your love story.

-

You’re wondering if Jeongguk’s sudden idea was truly a spur of the moment epiphany or another ploy for him to get out of going to the ball his father had planned at the end of this month. You’ve come to learn in the last two years that despite his perfect boy aura, he was quite the impulsive shithead. Eitherway, you know he would have invited you to wherever he was going, and if he hadn’t, his mother would have shipped you a gown from her favorite designer and asked you to drag him there.

As it stands, it’s not a fancy ball you’re preparing for this time around, but a luxurious spring break in the Bahamas, away from school and family and anything to ruin your mood for the next week. You’d just finished your midterms when he bursts into your dorm room, demanding you pack your bags, baby, we’re going to the beach! Evidently, it was not the local beach you were going to. No, the ‘beach’ Jeongguk had referred to was one he conveniently forgot to mention was an entire plane ride away. It wasn’t until he returned later that same day to usher you off to the airport that he realizes how sorely under packed you are.

So now here you were, frantically cramming a week’s worth of cute, summer-y clothes into the only suitcase you own, running back and forth from your closet to the suitcase to the desk where you kept all your beauty products and shower essentials, while your boyfriend ate one of your granola bars on your bed.

“You better not get any crumbs on the bed, you know I hate finding them later,” you scold, not even bothering to look at him as you stuff all your makeup into a small bag.

Jeongguk snorts. “You won’t even be sleeping here for a week, babe,” he says, voice calm and relaxed in the way only someone who’s already done packing can be. The only consolation to your current state was that Jeongguk had booked his family’s private jet, so you really couldn’t be late to a flight only the two of you would be on.

You turn around with a hand on your hip, giving him the same unimpressed look you always do when he’s being unreasonable. “I’m sure the mice you’re attracting will keep it warm for me.” He rolls his eyes, finishing off his snack and then making a big show of patting down your creaky mattress to rid it of any granola crumbs.

He’s settled back into the bed when he speaks again. “Take the orange crop top you bought from Forever 21 last month, it makes your boobs looks amazing.”

You tuck your socks and undergarments against the suitcase’s inner pocket. “Oh right, ‘cause that’s a priority right now.” You don’t wanna tell him it’s already folded against your other clothes because you, too, think it makes your boobs look amazing.

You hear the rustling of the bed sheets once more, before you see his long legs come to a rest around you, arms wrapping around your waist to watch you ruffle through the clothing you already have. “Not my fault my girl’s got a nice set on her.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you beg, reaching over to your pile of haphazardly thrown shorts and skirts to fold some more into your luggage. You’re careful of not moving far enough away that his arms would dislodge from their embrace. “We could have been halfway to the Bahamas right now if someone bothered to plan things ahead of time and not last minute as a means to get out of a charity ball.”

Jeongguk groans, letting his head fall forward to rest against your back, his soft breath leaving your back warm through your t-shirt. “Can’t a guy just steal his girlfriend away to the Bahamas for a week to avoid the overwhelming stress of life, and maybe choke on some exotic shrimp while she chokes on his di—”

“Get off of me, you pervert!”

The second you step foot on the archipelago that is the gem of the resort world, it’s about seven thousand degrees hotter than it was back home, and the sweat on the back of your neck can attest to that. The jet ride here had been pretty fun, it being your first experience flying private, but also flying in general. Jeongguk had kept you entertained both on the take off and landing, lips kissing down every inch of your neck with a promise for more later.

Well, it was later now, and the need to be sated was still present, something you’re not quite sure your boyfriend was aware of. Jeongguk was like that. Forgetful as fuck. The only reason he ever got anything done was because he had that assistant of his practically glued to his hip at every moment of the day, breathing down his neck every task he needed to complete. If it was up to Jeongguk, and Jeongguk alone, things would get done at a very slow pace.

But you were nothing like your boyfriend, and you suppose it’s why you two go together so well. While he put things to the side, you needed everything to be done right away and fast. Which is why you find yourself pulling him away from the scuba diving kiosk in an effort to check into your high-end cottage away from all the tourist hub.

“Babeee,” he whines, almost forgetting his luggage for the nth time, not used to actually having to haul his things by himself. “We could have seen the reef! You know, where all the fish are at? Where Nemo lives.”

“Uh huh, that’s nice,” you say, finding the driver Jeongguk’s assistant (bless his uptight, perfectionist ass) had booked for your arrival. “But we need to check in first and make sure our rental is all good.”

He seems miffed about the fact people actually have to do that, and had it not been his status as a trust-fund baby funding this entire trip, you would have liked to sock him right in the nose. But he’s your boyfriend and you’re used to his somewhat clueless ways by now, so you let it go.

You don’t know what you expected his assistant to rent out for you guys, but it certainly wasn’t the swanky beach house your driver pulls up to. It’s carefully secluded from the other houses around it, a high hedge-turned-fence surrounding the private yard. It hides a decent sized pool, a few lawn-chairs, and a hot tub from the public beach down below. The house itself is marvelous, complete with multiple bedrooms, two baths, and the most luxurious kitchen you’ve ever seen in a beach house.

“Oh,” you say upon stepping out of the car, mouth agape as you take in the sight of your accommodation for the next few days.

A pair of hands snake around your waist before carefully coming to rest above your navel. Jeongguk presses a gentle kiss to your temple, murmuring, “all for you, princess.” The waves crashing against the beach below are miniscule compared to the sudden blossoming of warmth in your chest.

“Shut up,” you shyly whine, turning around to envelope him in your arms. Your need for him and his body fades at the breathtaking sight behind you, and you find yourself forgetting about it completely as you venture around the house.

It’s the same day when you decide to go out into the yard and tan for a bit. Jeongguk had went in for a nap, a little tired from keeping you entertained on the long flight, because he’d stayed awake even when you fell asleep just in case you woke up scared. You don’t try to discourage him, watching him snuggle into the king mattress as you shuffle around for your bikini.

You’re absentmindedly applying another layer of sunscreen to your face, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head. You’re completely enveloped by thoughts of your boyfriend, of how he could have easily ran off to the Bahamas alone (he went to Moscow last November on a trip to ‘find himself’), but he’d elected to whisk you off with him.

You tuck your AirPods—another gift from him—into your ears before finally settling into the comfort of a lounge chair, the sun’s rays beating down on you full force. It feels wonderful being away from everything you know with the comfort of returning. You’d always dreamt of visiting such places as a teenager, the presence of a lover or not, but now you truly got to live out those fantasies with Jeongguk.

He was a dream.

It’s about thirty minutes into your session when you register the sound of the sliding door, and you crack one eye open to see your refreshed boyfriend wandering into the backyard in a pair of swimming trunks and a goofy look on his face. “Oh, pardon me, I didn’t know such women came to the public pool,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, not that he sees through the shades protecting you. “Don’t you dare try to roleplay with me, weirdo.”

He cackles, before somersaulting into the pool, and you find yourself squealing at the splash he makes. He disappears for a second under the water, but then pops back up at the ledge closest to you. “Come on, don’t be a pussy. Play along and maybe we’ll go to the spa tomorrow morning,” he offers.

“Fine.” You decide to join him, but not because the spa.

Jeongguk laughs at your petulant tone of voice, before sprawling out to float across the surface of the pool. “Great, so here’s what I was thinking. Me, the rich middle-aged husband coming here strictly for business. And you, the shy darling relaxing by the pool with her girlfriends who are all pushing her to go talk to me.”

“Sounds perfect, except for the part where I’m actually the sly minx coming here to scam a rich college boy out of his money, luring him into the most pleasurable sex he’s ever had, before ghosting him for all eternity and leaving him forever waiting for someone like me to come into his life again,” you propose.

Jeongguk blinks. “Wow, that sounded so realistic. You’re either really good at this, or… I should be worried,” he playfully accuses, before throwing over a gesture that says im watching you. You laugh.

“Just keep swimming, rich boy.”

He does as you tell him, playing in the water as you tune back into the music drifting into your ears. You’re about done tanning the front side of your body, and flip over to make sure your backside catches the rays as well. You set your sunglasses off to the side, and when you look back for them they’re adorning Jeongguk’s silly face as he doggy paddles around the donut floaty he found.

“Untie your top, dumby. Unless you want those ugly tan lines,” Jeongguk calls out in that brash tone of his. You flip him the bird, before sitting up in a very Ariel-esque pose to glance around your private yard.

As if sensing your hesitation, Jeongguk paddles over to your side, leveling you with an unimpressed look. “These bushes are as tall as a door, and there’s no one around for the next half mile, babe. Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.”

He truly knew the way to your heart.

You untie the knots at your back and your neck, carefully laying back down to get that perfect tan Jeongguk was talking about. Admittedly, you do feel a bit better knowing you won’t return home with noticeable tan lines, and that much is enough to have your topless self blissfully relaxing.

Your soundtrack is the playlist you had collected on the plane ride, occasionally joined by the splashing Jeongguk makes as he moves around the pool, and before you know it, your timer is ringing to let you know it’s time to flip over again. This time, you’re less hesitant about shedding your top, breasts bare to the sky as you throw the top over your eyes (guess where your sunglasses still where).

You hear a wolf whistle from the other side of the yard, and catch sight of Jeongguk sitting at the edge of the pool. His skin is glistening from the water, the sun enveloping him in its warmth. He’d been outside for a shorter time than you but somehow he’d accumulated a darker color faster. The sun loved him like no other. He’s pushing himself to his feet when he catches your gaze, mischievous smirk twisting his features as he rounds the pool.

“Didn’t know this was a nude beach,” he says, and you curse your body for the way it reacts to the sight of his messy hair and tone abdomen. Your nipples harden embarrassingly and you can’t even hide them.

“Tired already?” You muse instead, hoping he doesn’t comment on the state of your breasts. “Tired after a plane ride, tired after swimming. Didn’t know I was dating an old man.”

“Har har,” he says in a monotone voice, and you can’t help the curl of a smile at beating him at his own playful ways. He stops in front of you, and your expression is knocked clean off when the water droplets clinging to his body fall onto your warm skin.

“Jeongguk!” You whine, pushing him away with your foot in a valiant effort to save yourself from the cold water. If anything, your actions end up bringing your demise as he catches your ankle in his hand.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tuts, bending your leg upward only to place his knee where it once was. He ducks down to tower over you, your continuous squealing only bringing an evil smile to his face. “What did we say about tan lines?”

You push him away, groaning in defeat as his hair drips even more water onto your skin. “I took the top off, what now?”

He glances down, and for a moment, you’re confused as to what he sees that you don’t. You're only met with the sight of your yellow bikini bottom preserving the last of your dignity.

You scoff. “You’re kidding.”

Much to your chagrin, he’s not.

“You’re on one of the nicest islands in the world, staying in a private home with fences tall enough to stop Bigfoot from looking in, and you’re gonna tan with your bikini bottoms on? You’re ridiculous.”

You shove his shoulder, before resigning yourself to getting soaked by him as he shuffles around to squish you under his weight. “You’re ridiculous for thinking I’d be outside without any clothes on!”

He snorts against your shoulder, long arms moving around until he has one somewhat curled beneath you. “Nah. You are.”

“Don’t start with me, Jeon.”

He shifts again to look you in the eye. “Come on, ___. You’re really gonna get tan lines when you could avoid them?”

You roll yours eyes. “You couldn’t get me to go outside completely naked for a million bucks, baby.” The beginning of a grin curls around his lips. “Don’t even think about it.”

This brings a laugh out of him, before he’s laying back down to kiss your neck. “You’re silly.” All you can really hope for now is that him laying on top of you won’t give you an even worse tan line.

Just when you think he’s given up on his quest to have you completely naked outside, you feel the slightest tug on the tie holding your bikini in place, slapping your hand down on his as if he were a pesky fly. “Fine!” He huffs, rolling off you to jump back into the water. “I hope everyone sees your uneven tan.”

“No one would see a tan line on my coochie, Jeon,” you remind him, flinching when he decides to cannonball into the water right beside you, sprinkling you in another round of water pellets.

He emerges from the clear water a moment later, paddling to the ledge beside you to flick more water your way. “I will,” he retorts. “When I got you bent over tomorrow morning.”

You don’t hesitate to fling your bikini top his way, the yellow fabric smacking him across the face. “In that case, you should take those shorts off, because I certainly don’t wanna have to look at your pasty thighs.”

“You love my milky thighs,” he hums, traversing the length of the pool for his donut floaty again.

“Milky?”

Your tiny quarrel ends there, Jeongguk soon becoming too immersed in competing against himself in a breath-holding contest to bother you any longer. He’s adorable like this, cheeks puffed out like Mrs. Puff every time his head pops out of the water, that you almost forget to flip over when your timer rings again.

It’s in the midst of your repositioning that you dare take a peak beneath your bottoms. Much to your disdain, there is a growing disparity between the skin beneath your swimsuit and the skin around it. Nothing too bad, but if you were to lay out as long as you planned, it’d become embarrassingly noticeable. Your breasts had been saved from any differences thanks to Jeongguk’s early warning, and you begin wondering if shedding your bottoms would inflate his already huge ego.

No matter, you discreetly unknot the ties securing your bottoms, hoping he won’t notice from across the yard as you carefully slip them off.

You make quick work of laying on your stomach again, your ass finally catching some rays after being covered for so long. You won’t lie, there’s an unexpected wave of comfort that comes with being bare outside, your entire body wonderfully enveloped by the sun’s beaming rays. You snuggle into the lounge chair’s cushions as you nearly reach nirvana.

Your blissful state is ruined not even ten minutes later when the sound of Jeongguk’s heavy splashing comes closer and closer. It’s not until you hear the splat of his wet feet against the pavement that you realize you’re in trouble.

There’s a playful smack against your ass, and you yelp in surprise. “Jeon!” You whine, instantly sitting up on your forearms to narrow your eyes at him. He’s flashing you that playful grin of his as he plops down beside you, not even having to ask you to move over because you do so subconsciously

“Knew you’d give in eventually,” he sighs, leaning back on his palms as he tries to catch his breath. You decide to give up on your dreams of having a peaceful tanning session, turning around to face your glistening boyfriend.

“What do you want for lunch?” You ask instead, running a hand through the hair at the nape of your neck, rolling your shoulders around to get some movement back into them. He shrugs, slithering his way up the cushions to squish himself beside you. It’s a tight fit, but he makes it easier by throwing your leg over his middle.

“Probably some good food in the little village a mile from here. Could probably walk there too.” You hum in agreement, snuggling into his side. You’ve long since gotten over the coldness of his skin, cheek pressed against his chest. He’s got a hand on your lower back, partially to hold you close but also to stop you from rolling off the chair.

Right as your snoozing off, so wonderfully warm beneath the sun and comfortable in your birthday suit, you feel a pair of fingers brush against the backside of your thigh, and then ghost over your exposed pussy.

“You’re despicable,” you murmur, tweaking his nipple between your fingers. Jeongguk snickers, shifting you around so you’re mostly on top of him now, your awakened core pressed against his thigh.

“C’mon, princess,” he goads, running a pair of moist fingers along your thigh again, trying to carefully coax you into doing what he wants. Most things, you now realize, tend to go Jeongguk’s way regardless of other factors. “No one’ll hear us out here.”

“But what if someone does,” you point out, always the voice of reason when it comes to Jeongguk’s ideas. “We could get in trouble, Guk. I don’t know…”

“In trouble for what?” Is his smart rebuttal, shuffling beneath you so you can finally feel the swollen cock hiding beneath his swimming trunks. “Enjoying ourselves in our own home? Oh, the terror.” Upon seeing the uncertainty that still clings to your features, he drops the somewhat cocky attitude to press a kiss to your nose. “It’s all good, princess,” he soothes, ducking down to caress the side of your face with his cherried lips. “If anything, I’ll just bribe our way out of any trouble.”

“Ugh,” you groan, melting into him as you finally give in. “I hate when you say that.”

Jeongguk snuffles a laugh against your jaw, maneuvering the two of you around until you’re laid flat against the cushion with him hovering over you. “When I say what?” He teases. “That my wallet is as fat as my cock?”

You roll your eyes, untying the knot he’d done at the front of his shorts. “Get that fat cock of yours out before I change my mind.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he complies, setting one foot on the floor to push his shorts down, until you’re met with the sight of his stark thighs. You cackle, and his arrogant smirk is wiped off as he glances down at his two-toned legs.

“What happened to getting the perfect tan?” You sneer, tapping a finger against his muscled thighs. “Don’t tell me your ass is this white, too.”

He huffs in annoyance, before reclaiming his spot between your legs again, tugging you down until your cores are pressed together. “Shut up.” You do as he says, words catching in your throat at the feeling of his engorged cock brushing against your wet folds.

His slips a hand down to languidly toy with your folds, his fingers slightly pruny from all the time he spent in the water. It feels a little weird, but any complaints you may have had are wiped away when he nudges your bud with the tip of his pointer finger. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders at the sudden stimulation against your core. “Ohh,” you sigh, eyes rolling backwards.

“Feel good?” He checks, eyes trained on your expressions, lips unconsciously puckering to kiss you, even with your writhing beneath him. You let out a high-pitched mewl, much to your embarrassment, cheeks flushed warm from the sun and his ministrations. You nod belatedly.

He lets his wandering hands carry on, carefully travelling across the entirety of your folds. He knows your body like no other, so familiar with the dips and curves, that it’s impossible for him to not immediately locate your g-spot upon plunging his fingers inside you. “G-Guk!” you cry out, hands falling to grip at his biceps.

He presses a kiss to your throat. “That’s it, baby, lemme hear you,” he murmurs, and subtly presses his cock to the inside of your thigh. “Looked so delicious out here,” he sighs, and it’s as if he’s talking to himself. “Wanted to fuck your pretty little pussy from the second I stepped outside.”

Your back arches beneath him at a particular scissor of his fingers, another whine caught in your throat. “Want you so bad,” you whimper, reaching a hand up to tangle in his dark locks. You use the leverage to pull his lips towards yours, meeting in a frantic crash that has you whining against him even more.

His tongue slips past your lips, subduing yours when you try the same on him, and you almost choke on the excess saliva pooling in your mouth. Right before you can, he pulls back in favor of trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Your eyes flutter open, and you meet his own dark gaze.

“Ready?” He huffs, pulling his fingers out from within you. They’re shiny with your slick, almost as wet as they’d been when he was swimming earlier. You nod, dazed from all the pleasure he was giving you, that you can’t do more but spread your legs for him. He leans back on his knees, lining himself up with your hole.

You’d long since eliminated condoms from your relationship with Jeongguk, your trust in each other overwhelmingly so. Besides, you were still on the pill, and Plan B existed, so you never really worried about slipping up and accidentally getting yourself pregnant. Although there were times when he’d go overboard, stuffing you with his cum until you feel bloated, you’d never gotten pregnant before, so you wouldn’t begin to worry now.

Just the idea of feeling him in his entirety has you salivating, needy hands reaching out to grasp any part of him you can reach. Jeongguk snickers at your desperate ways, knotting his fingers with yours before pressing them to the cushion beneath you, the other gripping onto your thigh to keep your legs spread.

The second his tip pushes through the initial tightness, your mouth drops open, indecipherable noises escaping you. “J-Jeon,” you cry, chest heaving at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax for me, princess,” he huffs, just as out of it as you. Your body feels like it’s ascended, Jeongguk’s cock slowly pushing in further with each breath you take. It doesn’t take much longer for him to completely bottom out, the warm skin of his thighs pressing against you.

You’re like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as your body slowly assimilates to the feeling of being so absolutely full. It’s not until Jeongguk subtly shifts his weight onto his other leg that you give him the green light to start fucking you.

You moan, the first few thrusts hitting against every sweet spot inside you. “God, you’re so fucking big,” you heave, clenching around him just to feel the drag of his cock against your walls.

Jeongguk chuckles through his own pants, the fingers entwined with yours becoming impossibly tighter. “You’re too good for me,” he sighs, hauling your thigh further up his forearm until its resting in the crease of his elbow. The positioning allows his strokes to go deeper. You cry out, squirming beneath him with each thrust he gives.

“Oh fuck,” you cry wantonly when he plunges deeper into you, the water that decorated his skin long having been replaced by the sweat clinging to him. Your eyes flutter shut and you’re left only listening to the sounds of you, Jeongguk, and the ocean waves beneath you. “I love you,” you whimper.

Jeongguk grunts, ducking down to kiss you again, his hips not once slowing down. “Love you too, princess,” he murmurs. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you,” he groans, puncuating his statement with a brutal thrust of his cock into you. “Gonna buy you that pretty Valentino bag when we get back, I promise,” he adds, picking up his pace.

You whine, “You don’t have to, Jeon, I—”

He cuts you off, “and that silver Audi you liked at the car show last winter,” he rambles on, seemingly clueless to your protest. “A-And maybe that Louis Vuttion coat that brings out the color in your eyes—”

“I saw the same one at H&M,” you interrupt, swiveling your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. He chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up and just let me spoil you,” he groans, and then seemingly forgets what else he was planning on buying you as he focuses his complete attention on helping you reach your orgasm.

With his focus solely on that, you find the burning feeling in your lower abdomen grow tenfold, voice becoming more annoying with each moan and whine you give. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his thrusts sending tingles up and down your spine. He peppers kisses down your chest, each touch leaving your skin scorching.

Time seems to slow when the coil in your stomach finally snaps, an embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips as your body spasms beneath him. “Oh, Jeongguk,” you sigh, falling limp on the lounge chair as he continues chasing his high.

He pulls out soon enough, giving his cock a few tugs before he’s spurting his come across your lower abdomen, leaning back to admire his masterpiece. He’s panting afterwards, and the backyard feels eerily quiet as you both just gaze at each other with goofy smiles on your faces.

The romantic aura is ruined when he feels the need to say, “hey, maybe now my ass won’t be so white.”

“Fuck, you look sexy,” he murmurs when the instructor finally turns around, leaving Jeongguk to gawk at your body in the tight wetsuit provided. “Gonna fuck you so good tonight.”

“Shut up,” you blush, trying to stop your eyes from violating your boyfriend’s disgustingly gorgeous body in the matching wetsuit he wears. “We’ll get kicked out of the group, Guk.”

He rolls his eyes. “I could have rented the whole place out for us, but someone thought scuba diving with the other corny tourists would be fun.”

You flick his forehead. “You don’t have to buy out every building we go to,” you remind him, memories of this morning’s completely empty breakfast bar flickering to attention. “Besides, I wouldn’t have let you fuck me tonight anyway.”

He scoffs at your claim. “Please, you would have begged me, ___.”

You hit him with the wide end of your swimming fin, then have to apologize to the instructor for your horseplay, much to Jeongguk’s amusement. You narrow your eyes at him, following the rest of the group out onto the boardwalk leading to the boat. “Find me a Nemo, and we’ll do it in the beach cabana.”

Jeongguk’s lips twists into the most devious smirk you’ve ever seen, and he smacks your ass as he runs ahead of you. You yelp, just as he turns to face you just as he nears the group. “Has anyone seen my son?”

[writingtoforgetreality]

I just want us to be safe – Chapter 1 (Andy Barber x Daughter!Reader)

Next Chapter / I just want us to be safe-Masterlist

Summary: You were the 20-year-old daughter of Andy Barber. Nine months after a one-night-stand, your biological mother decided to give the responsibility to him. Yet, you were happy with your small family. One day, though, a scary event occured & somehow you involuntarily started being a part of this.

Words: 2,089

Warnings: none just yet, maybe a bit of swearing bc that`s me, angst if you squint

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were (Y/N) Barber. Daughter of the assistent attorney, Andy Barber. You were 20 years old & used to attend Newton high school, like your younger brother Jacob did. Now, your background is a bit more complicated. Technically, Jacob was not your biological brother. Neither was Laurie, Jacob’s mother & Andy’s wife, your biological mother. Some time ago, when your dad had not been dating Laurie yet, he had a one-night-stand with some girl he had met at a bar. Just one night, he had not seen her after that encounter. What he did not know though: the girl got pregnant & nine months later, Andy found a small basket at his doorstep. There you were, wrapped in a blanket. There was a letter, too. Your biological mother had not been ready for a child but she knew Andy would handle you just fine. And, being the guy Andy was, he obviously took you in. You were his daughter to say the last. He made sure to take a paternity test & yep, you were his daughter.

Now, do not get me wrong, you grew up with Laurie being your mother & yet, you had never, not even once, called her “mom“. You simply did not feel ready to do so & neither your dad nor Laurie pushed you into something you were not comfortable with. When you were 6 years old, Jacob was born & ever since then, you had made sure to protect him at all costs. Your dad loved seeing you with Jacob & he loved the bond you two shared. Laurie was sure that you would be more open about her being your mother after that but nope. Your guess was that you still felt neglected by your biological mother & did not want to let another “mother figure“ get close to you. Your dad never lied to you about anything. He tried to explain to you from the very beginning how your biological mother “abandoned“ you & that Laurie was & will always be your mom. While Andy did not lie to you, the two of you had kept a secret from Jacob & Laurie. Your dad said that they did not need to know & he did not want them to see him in a different light. It was not his fault that his dad had been a criminal though. It was not his fault your grandfather killed, stabbed to be exact, a girl. He had been suffering for his actions in jail, for a very long time. You had agreed on keeping it for you, never doubting your dad. You knew he only had good intentions.

After graduating from Newton High, you got into law school near your home. You wanted to follow your dad’s footsteps. He did not force you to approach the same career & let you choose a path yourself. He would lie if he said that he was not proud of you for wanting to do the same as him though. Law school was absolutely amazing, you loved going there every day, loved coming home to tell the new things you learned at your dinner table. People say sometimes you know when a decision is right, you have a gut feeling about it. You were sure: this was YOUR way. Even though your family was quite wealthy, never having a problem about money whatsoever, you still wanted to have a part-time job during college. Earning your own money simply felt amazing. Your dad & Laurie were so proud of you for being so independent.

Here you were, a nice family, a house, the best future ahead. But life does not always roll that way, does it? Every time when Jacob had a problem in school or with homework, studying for an upcoming exam, he would knock on your door, waiting for you to yell “Come in! I told you there’s no need to knock, Jay.“ Jay. You always called him that. He was your little brother & while others called him “Jake“ or simply “Jacob“, you wanted to have something for yourself. Jay it was. Anyway, after coming into your room, asking if you were busy, the two of you always ended up doing school stuff together. It was more fun to have company & Jacob was always thankful for you helping him out. Of course you would, you never had a problem in high school, always bringing home good grades. You liked helping him wherever you could.

Your alarm woke you up at 6 am. Time to get up, get ready & head to college. Usually, dad would take you with him in the mornings since his work is close to your school. Today, though, you had to take your own car to drive to school, you had to work at your local diner afterwards. Yes, you did purchase that car on your own. After saving enough money, you decided on a small black car, not really caring too much about the brand. All that mattered was that it was not too pricey & that it worked. Of course your parents offered you to buy you that car but you wanted to do this on your own. And would you look at that, you managed to buy it without being broke. As you finished showering, putting makeup on & deciding on an outfit, you made your way downstairs where dad & Jacob were already seated. Laurie was most likely out on her daily morning run. You did not understand how someone could go jogging voluntarily. It kept you healthy but at what cost?

“G’morning male beings of this household.“ you greeted them & earned a chuckle from dad. You were not a morning person but that was not your family’s fault so you would brush off your grogginess in order not to say something you might regret later. Jacob was busy writing away on his phone. Gosh, this boy & his damned phone.

“Good morning, angel. How did you sleep?” your dad shot you a grin. He had been calling you “angel“ ever since you were little & you absolutely loved this nickname.

“Like a princess, as always.“ you answered. Some might say you were a sarcastic piece of shit & you know what, maybe they were right. You were a lot like your dad & you liked yourself & your goofiness. You could be serious when it was needed though, your personality was perfectly balanced.

“Hello? Earth to Jay?“ you waved your hand in front of his face to gain his attention but his eyes were glued on his screen still.

“Morning.“ was the only word you got out of him.

“Okay, what girl are you texting? Do I know her? Does she have an older sister? Brother, maybe? Is she hot?“ you teased him & Jacob sent you a glare which made you giggle.

“I’m just texting Derek.“ Jacob stated.

“Wow…And I thought I was the one who hated mornings.“ you stated, mostly to yourself but your dad heard you & started laughing. Even Jacob let out a low giggle.

While the three of you held a conversation, Laurie got back home, greeting you & asking you about your plans for today.

“Do I need to take any of you to school?“ dad asked.

“Um, actually, I’ll be driving myself today. I’ll be back home a bit later, gotta earn that bread, y’know?“ you smirked at both, your dad & Laurie to wait for their reactions. Seeing them laugh was one of your favorite things in this world, especially when you were the reason.

“Sure thing, just text me when you know how late it’ll be.“ dad waited for you to nod, looked at Jacob & asked “What about you, buddy?“

“I’ll be walking today.“

“You sure, you know it’s no probl-” but before dad could finish, Jacob cut him off.

“I’m fine with walking.“

“Okay, just be safe.“

Checking the time, you saw that you should keep going so you went over to dad & Laurie, gave each of them a kiss on the cheek, went over to Jacob, messed up his hair a bit which earned you a groan & finally made your way outside to your car. You hopped in, turned on the engine & started driving off. Every time you would drive yourself, you always stopped at Starbucks for a quick breakfast. Your breakfast mostly consisted of a nice coffee. No offense, but the coffee you got at home just was not it. And let’s be honest: Nobody survives college without having coffee.

Finishing all of you classes for the day, you & a few of your colleagues exited the building. Usually, when you were at college, you did not look at your phone at all, finding it too distracting when you had to focus on something else. But as soon as you unlocked your phone, you knew something was off. You had two calls from Jacob, which was weird since he barely ever called you, & 5 missed calls from dad. Fuck, something was not right. You excused yourself from your friend group, teling them you had to go to work earlier, while in reality, you moved to your car, opened it & got inside. As soon as you closed your door, you called Jacob first. He picked up almost immeadiately.

“(Y/N)? Thank god, I’ve tried calling you.“ he sounded a bit shaken up? That was off.

“Yeah, I know, sorry `bout that, Jay. You know how I ignore my phone during classes but anyway…What’s up? Are you okay?” you started growing concerned now.

“Newton High is locked down. Apparently they found a 14-year-old stabbed in the woods. I am fine though.“ his voice was quiet, almost like he did not want anyone else to hear. Your heart stopped a beat. There was a killer running around town. Who the hell would stab a teenager? Who the hell would stab anyone to begin with?

“Have you talked to dad yet?“ you really did not know what else to say. You were just glad your little brother was alright. That was all that mattered right now.

“Yes, he’s on it. He said he wanted to call you. Have YOU talked to him?“

“Not yet, I’ll call him now, just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Call me if something’s wrong or if you`re scared, okay?“ your heart was literally racing. Yeah, your brother was fine but the victim was his age & Jacob usually took the way through the woods to get to school. The mere thought of your brother being the one who had been murdered scared you like crazy.

“Will do. Thanks, (Y/N). Bye.“

“Bye, Jay.“ you ended the call & let yourself breathe for a moment. Not even once in your life did you think something like this could happen in your neighborhood. You lived in one oft he safest areas in the country & yet this brutal event had happened so close to home. The world was a scary place. A few minutes later, after calming down as good as it was possible, you dialed dad’s number. He would most likely knew more. To be honest, you were not sure if you really wanted to know more about this case but on the other hand,you were curious. Of course you were, you wanted to do this as your future job. His phone rang twice before he picked up.

“(Y/N)? Angel?“ he did not sound scared, just relieved to hear your voice.

“Yeah, it’s me, dad. I’m fine, talked to Jay. He told me what happened. Well, as much as he knew, of course. What the hell is going on?“ you were rambling. You always were when you grew nervous or anxious.

“Breathe, angel. Look, there’s a lot going on. Could you come home, like, right now? I called your boss, she said it was fine if you took the evening off.“ he knew you would say you needed to go to work so he had called the diner you worked at to explain the situation.

“I’ll be home in ten.“

“Drive safe.“ your dad always made sure you were okay, trying to protect you as much as he could. He would do everything for his family to be safe.

“Always.“ & with that, you ended the call. Everthing inside you screamed to go over the speed limit but your dad’s words popped into your mind again. He would not want this. You would survive another ten minutes before coming home.

~to be continued~

Published 04/30/2020 by Cathy

[sunflowerhae]

Omfg the story of us is one of my fav Taylor songs so can you write that with mark 🥺🥺 thank youuuuuu

|📣 ▹▹ brooo it’s one of my favorite too 😩😩 I hope u enjoy! 💕🌙 ok tbh I don’t really like the ending so sorry abt that😔😔

Send in your music requests! ✨👼🏻

“I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us How we met and the sparks flew instantly And people would say, "they're the lucky ones’”

“Jesus you two are so lucky” Yeji couldn’t keep her comments in as you turned away from Marks retreating frame and to the green-eyed girl sitting in front of you at the library desk you two were currently occupying. Late night study sessions for the upcoming college exams called for loyal boyfriends to bring coffee from the campus starbucks for you and your best friend, effortlessly gaining brownie points with you.

“What do you mean we’re lucky?” You snickered as you handed her coffee to her and immediately sucked in your own cold, bitter sweet; feeling the coffee practically revive your body.

Yeji sighed with an elongated eye roll to express her clear annoyance at your confusion. “Y/n, everyone knows you and Mark are the cutest couple on campus. I mean you two met at what, a frat party?-“

“-yeah” you mumbled.

“-Yeah, and you two immediately clicked. I mean your two year anniversary is coming up, right? I won’t be surprised if you two are telling your children how you met in 10 years.” She laughed at the end of her sentence as you gasped and balled up an empty piece of paper in front of you; throwing it at her giggling and arm-protected frame as you whisper yelled,

“Yeji - shut up!” The light pink hue undoubtedly covered your face and ears at her claims as you both went back to the notes in front of you. Yeji - quickly forgetting the conversation - started complaining about the riparian plants of the San Joaquin (“-like we’re not even at the San Joaquin-“) but your mind was too preoccupied with the previous conversation, and a smile slowly etched it’s way onto your face as her words settled deep into your heart -

Unfortunately setting you up for heartbreak.

“Oh, a simple complication Miscommunications lead to fall out So many things that I wish you knew So many walls up I can't break through”

“Well you were supposed to come over and help me pack!” You couldn’t help your voice from failing you and slightly raising in accusation and anger, and you cringed at the annoyance of your tone. You could hear Mark sigh on the other side of the receiver - even over the sounds that occupied his side of the call.

“Y/n, I know, I’m sorry. I thought you meant later. I didn’t know you needed the help right now.” You wanted to ask him to come over now; to drop whatever commitment he was already at and come be with you like he said he would, but the idea of stressing him more than the situation already is, you’re sure, left a twisted feeling in your stomach, and a metallic taste in your mouth. And, with yet another sigh - maybe the 40th one through out this entire, 6 minute call - you told him that it wasn’t a big deal and he could make it up to you later. You both mumbled your I love you’s before he hung up first - leaving you in complete silence.

Your heart burned at the thought of yet another conversation passed where you refused to let out the feelings that were too overgrown for the space of your chest. There was so much you wanted to say to Mark; so much that you wished he knew. Usually, you wouldn’t hesitate to tell him how you feel - but lately the conversations seemed strained and overworked, and you had reserved yourself to the insecure thoughts that maybe Mark didn’t want to hear how you felt, and maybe it was best for your relationship if you kept them in.

You spaced out your gaze as you looked around your almost empty dorm room. It was the end of your junior year of college, and you and Mark were supposed to be packing up your room. Mark, however, forgot about it and chose to instead spend his time hanging out with his frat brothers (like he always did).

No. You slapped the side of your head and shook it back and forth while trying to get rid of the jealous thoughts. It’s okay. It’s not that deep. You’re fine.

To distract yourself, you shot Yeji a text to come help you with your room. At this, your thoughts wandered back to that late night in the school library, and your frown deepened.

You’re fine. We’re fine.

“Now I'm standing alone In a crowded room And we're not speaking and I'm dying to know Is it killing you like it's killing me yeah I don't know what to say since the twist of fate When it all broke down and the story of us Looks a lot like a tragedy now”

The music blasting through the speakers of the party was giving you nothing short of a migraine, and the unknown, red alcohol in your cup was doing nothing to soothe it. In your defense, it’s not like you wanted to be here. You would have preferred to be back in your new apartment, unpacking your boxes with a romcom playing, a candle burning, and your new cat, Ivy, cuddled up on the couch. Yet, when Yeji all but bullied you through text to come to the first party of your last year of college, you didn’t have much of a choice other than to attend. You hoped that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as your mind was playing it up to be, this thought being reinforced by your best friend. The minute you walked through the doors of the quite familiar frat house, however, you instantly regretted ever showing your face in these hallowed halls.

You knew almost everyone in this room, yet also felt like you knew no one. Lately, that was a pretty normal feeling for you. You had spent the majority of your college experience being friends with the people that partied all around you; getting to know them at events not so different than this one. Yet, you - ever the shy one - wouldn’t have even known them, if it weren’t for a certain person that occupied the majority of your thoughts. The very same person standing across the room from you, playing beer pong with his fellow frat members.

This summer had not been kind to you.

Your uncertainties about your relationship with Mark bled into the summer heat, and were reinforced by the distance you two shared. Calls became far too in between, and texts were sporadic and short; usually just quick check-ins and awkward hellos and goodbyes.

Those were all okay for you. Well, they weren’t okay, but they were better than nothing; better than not having him.

The climax of the summer, however, came mid July, when you called and he did not answer. This wasn’t a new thing, so you left it. Yet when you called him a second, third, and fourth time (in the span of 24 hours) and he never answered, never texted you, never even acknowledged you, you knew something was wrong. You didn’t want to be the annoying one in the relationship (always so insecure), so you left it once more.

For a week.

A week had gone by without so much as a two letter word between each other. Deep in your heart, you knew the relationship was over at that point. But how could one admit that they had lost the love of their life so easily? So finally, after three weeks of no contact, you texted him a four letter message that hopefully explained everything you felt.

So this is it?

Mark responded.

I think so.

That summer was recorded as one of the hottest since 1946, but you never noticed. Your tears kept you cold.

“See me nervously pulling at my clothes And trying to look busy And you're doing your best to avoid me I'm starting to think one day I'll tell the story of us How I was losing my mind when I saw you here But you held your pride like you should have held me”

If you could cross the room and pull Mark into your hold and hug and kiss him like you two never even broke up, you would do it at as fast as the speed of sound. But Mark didn’t want you anymore, he made that clear. He was laughing at something Haechan said, and he looked beautiful; you felt idiotic for staring. You prayed he - or anyone else, for that matter - didn’t notice you there, but after shooting a text to Yeji that you were leaving, and looking back up at him for the last time, you were surprised to see that he was already looking at you. His eyes were rounded larger than usual, and even from your corner across the room, you could see the shock in them at your presence.

Time stopped as you two stared at each other, before you finally let out a small cough and looked down at your shirt to “fix” it, while Mark quickly looked anywhere but you. Satisfied with whatever you were trying to do with your clothes, you looked at Mark’s awkward figure one last time through your eyelashes, before turning and walking out of the party. When Mark looked back to where he last saw you, you weren’t there anymore, and his heart became hyperaware of the ever present twinge of pain that seemed to constantly be there, whether he numbed it out or not.

To be clear, Mark isn’t too sure why he broke up with you. While he still was deeply in love with you, you and him didn’t seem to be on the same page anymore, and that was enough reason for him to leave you. He wished he could hold you, hug you, love you like he used to. But every time you came to his head, the cringe at the way you two ended things quickly followed, and he’s too embarrassed to even think about talking to you again.

With a sigh, Mark turned back to his friends, and spent the rest of the night trying to drink away the memory of your face across the room.

“The battle's in your hands now But I would lay my armor down If you'd say you'd rather love than fight”

The insistent knocking on your apartments door at 3am scared more than annoyed you, and you couldn’t help yourself from grabbing the bat next to your bed before slowly making your way towards the door. You had 911 on speed dial in one hand and your bat in the other. It was moments like this that made you especially miss Mark, because lord knows you couldn’t fight back if someone tried to break in (not like you wouldn’t try).

Trying to distract yourself from the fear, you thought back to the party a month earlier, and your terrified thoughts had you thinking ‘if this is how I die, I’m going to regret never talking to Mark again’ as you arrived at your door.

You slowly lifted yourself to your peep hole, and let out a gasp at who you saw on the other side. You quickly placed your bat on the ground and your phone on the counter by your door, and opened the door wide.

“Mar-“ you didn’t get far before Mark took one huge step towards you, cupped your cheeks with his hands, and smashed his lips onto yours. You both stumbled into your home before mark pushed the door closed and spun you both, slightly pushing you against the door. After about 45 seconds of intense making out, Mark broke away and placed his forehead on your own.

“Hi,” you giggled out, to which Mark laughed himself.

“Hi.”