#this is a cargo shorts guy if I’ve EVER seen one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helloheyhihowdyheya · 3 months

Text

Pity Party | p. 2

Carmy Berzatto x gn!reader

Masterlist Part One

Summary: Carmy takes you home, but you find yourself not ready to go yet

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, some mushiness, fluff, possibly incorrect info about cars

A/n: hi. I’m sorry for taking a million years on this. and I’m sorry it’s not longer. Thank you to anyone that read the first part and shared their interest <3 and thank you for reading this one. You all are the best

“Holy shit,” you said, food still in your mouth and hand wrapped around the taco. Your wide eyes glanced up to Carmy’s.

“Right?” He swallowed down his bite before grinning, his head bobbing up and down in an approving nod.

You’d replaced the claustrophobic party with a small taqueria that, despite the occasional yelling between the front person and cooks, was much more peaceful. It had too few people in it for how good the food tasted, but you wouldn’t complain about the lack of noise or drunken singing.

“All the dishes were created by Rosa. She owned this food truck back when I was a kid — way before she could open up this place. If you come back–”

“When I come back,” you corrected.

“When you come back,” he said with a grin, “Their shredded beef is top shit. She spends hours getting it just right. Or the nachos. Even their fucking nachos are insane.”

You laughed, suddenly wishing you’d ordered nachos — maybe if you had more time here. As you ate, you listened to Carmy continue telling you about the restaurant and Rosa and how the tastes come together just right. You didn’t think you’d ever thought that hard about food before, but you just listened to him explain.

Well, mostly. Sometimes you watched his eyes light up as he spoke. Or you focused on the smooth way his mouth formed around the words.

“Sorry, this can get annoying,” he said after a minute of explaining the flavor profile of the tres leches cake a past restaurant he’d worked at had, and how it was a twist on Rosa’s tres leches cake he’d had as a kid.

But you shook your head, your expression dropping into a frown at his sudden cynicism. “No, no. Keep going,” you offered, hoping your tone sounded as sincere as you felt. “It’s fascinating stuff. Does Rosa know that she inspired you?”

You kept asking him questions. Most of it was to feed your interest, but part of it was to hear him keep talking.

Taking a sip of water, you washed down the different flavors of the taco. “Thank you again for taking me here. You’re a two-time lifesaver now,” you said with a tired but grateful laugh. Your eyes glanced down to your phone, seeing that Richie gave a thumbs up to your message saying you got a ride home from Carmy.

“Course. And thanks again for paying,” he said with an almost incredulous laugh. “Though I still can’t believe you paid the guy before I could see what you were doing.”

You nodded, happily chewing. It was the least you could do since he saved your night from complete disaster. “You can grab food the next time you drive me home from a party while I’m covered in beer.”

“Christ, I hope that doesn’t happen again for your sake.” He wiped his hands on a napkin, balling it up onto his plate. He gestured a finger toward you, saying, “The guy that spilled on you sounded like a total douche.”

A smile broke out across your face as you swallowed down a bite. “He was. He had the ugliest polo and cargo short combo I’ve ever seen doing the grossest hip thrusts I’ve ever seen with a full cup. And that wasn’t even the worst part!” You couldn’t contain the giggles popping up through your words now. “I looked back at him while walking away — from the most half-assed apology I’d ever heard — and saw his toe shoes… The fucker was wearing toe shoes!”

Carmy almost spit out his water, choking on it as you spoke. When he finally recovered, he shook his head, saying, “Nah, you’re fucking with me. There’s no way.” His grin went wide as he laughed harder.

“No, I’m 100% serious. I nearly ran into someone cause I couldn’t take my eyes off of them — like a goddamn trainwreck or something.”

You relished in the sound of his laughter, letting it replace the image of that guy’s horrible footwear.

“Christ, that’s horrible.”

“You’re telling me,” you muttered, finishing up your food. Standing, you held out a hand for his plate. You threw away the trash, stacking the plates in a dish bin with the remnants of laughter stuck to you. By the time you came back to the table, Carmy was standing and putting his jacket back on.

He stared at you for a second, and you couldn’t read the look in his eyes. You smiled nonetheless. He just said, “Ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. It didn’t feel as cold walking to the van this time with a full stomach and being next to Carmy. The tender fuzziness wrapped throughout your body didn’t wane until after a few miles of driving. On a side road meant to take you to the freeway back into the city, the car began to lurch. Your gaze slid over to Carmy as the van gradually slowed.

You found his expression sinking into a frown as he pulled off onto the shoulder. The skin of his knuckle stretched taut, his hands gripping the wheel tight. Parked, he shut the car off and tried turning it back on. Your stomach sank when a click-click-click sound hit your ears.

His fingers firmly wrapped around the car keys stuck into the ignition. He tried turning them again, which only produced that clicking sound once more. One final try, a hail mary as you held your breath, as he tried again. But you let out a half sigh when the engine kept turning over.

He slumped back into his seat, his hand dropping from the keys to lie beside his leg. “Fuck…” he breathed out, wiping the other hand across his forehead and along his hairline.

You opened your mouth, hoping to say something helpful, but nothing worked its way past the worry lining your throat. So you pressed your lips back together. You just nodded when he told you, “Let me see if I can look under the hood,” and made his way to the front of the van. Your eyes flitted between looking at the way his face wrinkled as he felt for the hood release and your fingers picking at your nails.

Flickers of the flashlight from Carmy’s phone passed from either side of the popped hood. A few minutes later, your eyebrows rose expectantly at him as soon as he came back. “What’s the prognosis?” you asked.

He sighed while closing the door, glancing to you. “It’s been a while since I’ve worked on cars, but there’s definitely a leak. With how hot it felt under there, I’d guess it’s the coolant.”

You breathed out, your eyebrows sinking into a disappointed frown. “So a tow truck it is.”

“Yeah…” he said, “I’m sorry, let me- I’ll order you a ride.” His words sounded defeated as he fished out his phone from his jean pocket.

“Oh, you don’t…” The words slipped past your lips before you could register what you were saying — before you could recognize the sharp feelings in your chest that sparked the words. Carmy turned to look at you, his attention fixed on the end of your sentence. Beneath his stare, you found it hard to think much beyond how much you weren’t ready for the night to end.

Clearing your throat, you slowly said, “You don’t have to do that. I could, um, wait with you.” With your heart beating against your ribs, you added, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind me sticking around.”

His finger paused, hovering over his phone screen. After a beat, the corner of his mouth lifted into a hesitant smile. “Uh, no. ‘f course not,” he said. “But it could be awhile before a truck gets here.”

Smiling, you shrugged. “Okay.”

And you watched him nod as a bigger smile spread across his face, like sunshine sneaking through the crack of a door. Your gaze flitted around the van’s interior and the dark side of the road while he called the towing company. But your attention was back on him when he hung up.

A small sigh accompanied his words. “They said it could be an hour. Maybe more.”

“Okay, well,” you started but paused, feeling warm all over. You hadn’t quite thought this far ahead. And now, in the soft silence of the van, his attention sat entirely on you. Quickly, you glanced into the back of the van, eyeing all of the boxes that sat there. With a slight grin, you continued, “Well now that we have some time to kill, I have to ask what’s all back here.”

Carmy shifted, looking to the back as well. “God, sorry about the mess. Most of it’s just supplies for The Beef… And Richie’s stupid fucking shirts for the restaurant.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Well shirts aren’t so bad. They can be good advertising for–”

“They say ‘The Original Berf.’”

“Oh.” You let out a small laugh, which grew with each breath because of course they said that. The way Carmy shook his head only furthered your giggling. Eventually, once your laughter died down, you eyed the back again. “How many shirts are in there?”

He looked back again, reaching a hand back to flip up the top of a box behind your seat. “Uh, maybe 20? Why?”

Pursing your lips, you asked, “Do you think there’s a shirt my size in there?” And at Carmy’s laugh, your mouth pulled into a smile.

“Let me see…”

He stretched toward the back, his hand gripping the side of your seat. With his body just a few inches away, waves of warmth rolled off of him. Your eyes couldn’t help trailing the curls of his hair or the dips and wrinkles of his sweater around his body.

When the rustling stopped, and your gaze elsewhere, he finally pulled back with a dark navy shirt in his hands. “Here you go.”

Giving a quiet, “Thank you,” you unfolded the shirt and held it up. It looked to be about your size, so you began unbuckling your seatbelt. “Um, could you– I mean, do you mind?” you asked, holding the shirt close to you, unsure of how to ask him to give you privacy in the car.

Thankfully, he got the message and turned the other way. “Yeah, yeah. Just, uh, let me know if it doesn’t fit.”

Hesitantly, your fingers wrapped around the hem of your shirt. You briefly relished in the feeling of finally taking off your beer-stained shirt, enjoying the air from the car’s vents against your skin. You pulled down the new shirt and said, “Okay, you’re good to look.”

You shifted it this way and that until it felt right. As you looked down and read that it did indeed read “The Original Berf,” another laugh slipped from your mouth.

You looked at Carmy as he said, “Richie calls it a collector’s item.”

“Of course he does,” you muttered with a grin. The feeling of a dry, smell-free shirt had you thanking him again. “This might bring you up to saving me three times tonight.” You turned to look at him, the left side of your body resting against the back of your seat. Your head tilted, leaning into the headrest.

“Well, you’re spending tonight waiting for a tow truck with me, so I’d say we’re about even.”

You let out a quiet hum, pursing your lips. “If we’re even… then could I ask you a favor?”

He was now turned toward you, his head tilted the same way. His hands sat in his lap, his fingers fidgeting every couple of seconds. Yet his expression looked almost calm as he said, “Yeah, anything.”

–

So there you both were, lying on the hood of his van looking up at the stars. With a sturdy enough box to use as a step and a thermal blanket beneath your bodies, you and Carmy set up a place to stargaze side by side. The night air and moonlight kissed your skin as you raised a hand, pointing out another constellation.

The occasional car passed by. A soft siren echoed in the distance. But sitting far enough away from the city, you could hear as the frogs and crickets sang their songs in the grasses nearby. You couldn’t help but think they sounded nice beneath the rumble of Carmy’s voice as he spoke.

“My family didn’t take road trips or anything like that, but uh, my brother took me west one night — when we were young. Honestly, I think he was just pissed at our family and wanted to get out,” he explained with his hands clasped together over his stomach. His chest rose and fell while his gaze stayed fixed on the Hercules constellation above. “But he drove the two of us out of the city and woke me up after. And it was just some field. I was so mad that he dragged me all the way out to a cornfield in the middle of the night.” He shook his head and let out a soft laugh, one filled with a sort of fondness, as if the memory played before his eyes.

“He told me to shut the fuck up and look at the stars. So we sat there on the hood of our mom’s piece of shit car, and he told me about the constellations.” He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. “But he didn’t know shit about constellations. He made it all up. I started to catch on when he pointed out the little dipper for the third time.”

A smile of your own spread across your face. You turned your head to look at him better, to watch the creases wrinkle around his eyes. “That sounds really nice,” you whispered. “To get out and escape once and awhile.”

“Yeah. It is…” Like now. The words seemed to dance between the two of you.

“Can you point out the little dipper to me?” you asked. “We wouldn’t want all his hard work teaching to go to waste.”

With a laugh, Carmy nodded and looked back to the sky. His hand raised, pointing to stars off to the right. “You see those four stars there that make a rectangle? That’s the cup. And those three,” he said, tracing his finger up in a curve, “make the handle.”

You nodded along. “I’m surprised you didn’t do much stargazing in your fabulous Copenhagen days,” you teased.

A groan left his mouth. “Cooking in Copenhagen leaves you no time for stargazing.”

“Sounds like cooking in Chicago leaves you without any time, either,” you whispered, watching as his hand dropped back down, his eyes locking onto yours.

He didn’t say anything at first, and an icy uncertainty began to creep up your spine. He turned his body onto his side to face it. “It leaves time for some things,” he said, melting away the worry and replacing it with burning hope. You turned toward him, too.

“Like what?” you breathed out, letting your fingers inch closer to his in the space between you. With him so close, you became acutely aware of everything around you. The bumps of the hood beneath you, the crinkle of the blanket with each movement, the intensity in the way he listened to your every word.

His gaze skipped around your face as he said, “Like a first date.”

You raised your eyebrows, turning your nose at him. “We just had our first date. Doesn’t a private dinner and stargazing sound romantic to you?” you asked. But you could only tease for so long, could only keep the sincerity at arm’s length until you were weak to it.

“Let me take you out for real,” he answered, grinning at you. His eyes continued to glance down to your lips. You felt your heartbeat in your ears. You barely ignore the uneasy excitement building in your chest. “Let me kiss you.”

Brief moments passed like hours before you nodded, before his hand brushed along your jaw and cupped your face. In an instant, your eyes shut as his mouth pressed to yours — like they were made to fit together. Your body molded to his, your muscles melting at his touch. Your fingers gripped his shirt, then his hair when it wasn’t enough. An almost desperate groan came from the back of his throat when you broke away to breathe.

He kept kissing you, only letting you get small gasps of air here and there. And the comforting feel of him nearly felt more important than breathing anyway. It left you in a dizzying addiction to his touch.

His nose nudged against yours with each kiss, his hold on you solid and unmoving. You didn’t know how much time had passed there in his embrace before lights hit your eyelids. Slowly, the sound of a car approaching reached your ears, making you pull away from Carmy.

A truck came closer as you sat up, your body already missing the warmth of Carmy. The lights on top of the truck told you it was here to tow the van. Looking back at Carmy, you watched as he adjusted his shirt and hair before hopping off the hood. You took his hand to get down yourself, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

He left your side to speak with the tow truck driver, but his eyes never left you for long. The butterflies in your stomach never left either, not with the soft way he looked at you.

The journey home passed in a blur, the tired goodbye and quick kiss as you parted ways. Not even Richie, who arrived home next door at the same time as you and immediately noticed your changed shirt, could dull the smile on your face. Though when he asked how your night with Carmy was and obnoxiously wiggled his eyebrows, he came close.

You merely muttered, “Shut up,” before closing your door on him. And finally back in your apartment, you could shower and change — relishing in the clean and dry feeling. Even the sharpness of the vinegar you poured into a bowl was a relief. Diluting it with water per Carmy’s instructions, you mixed it together before dipping your shirt in.

And you thought of him the entire time, unable to keep a smile off your face as you washed off your shirt to find it stain-free

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #Carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fic #the bear #the bear fx

144 notes · View notes

moranasgrave · 1 year

Text

plug!connie gets jealous at a party and teaches you a lesson.

ok this is just a little plug connie drabble because i’ve been wanting to write about him for a while. i literally left my other notes at home with all my other characters sooo after this i’ll release a snippet of a chapter in my Eren story that will be “premiering” august 18th. kinda late i know but it’ll be worth it i want to have 10+ chapters written so i can release 2-3 at a time because i know how it feels to wait for something your reading especially on wattpad LMAO.

CONTENT! WARNING! 18+ MINORS DNI! NSFW CONTENT!

Fem black reader ofc, Choking,raw sex, angry sex, weed, alcohol, mild violence,fluff, bad language,and idk this won’t be proofread lmao.

Connie knew he fucked up. Tonight was Eren big summer bash party at his parents mansion. It was always the craziest party of the year, and the best spot for dealers to find knew customers for the year.

You how ever were livid with connie. You seen a girl texting his instagram on his phone saying “yea tmr at 3 is coo” while you guys were cuddling on the couch. You didn’t think he would cheat on you but something about it made you feel weird. Girls always hit him up begging to match with him. It made you feel, territorial.

Connie was gorgeous, those piercing hazel eyes and that flashy smile. Especially when he had his diamond bottom grillz in, fresh hair cut and that pretty bone structure. He also had that charm, he knew just the right thing to say to make you melt in his arms.

Right now though, you didn’t care how he looked. You were pissed off because he acts so nonchalant about girls messaging him like it’s no big deal. What if he actually takes the offer one day.

Whatever you didn’t care as you angrily got dress into your hot pink tube top dress. Cutely ruffled at the bottom looking like a miniskirt attached to a dress. Your black stocking that you were angrily taking a razor to. A black my chemical romance zip up hoodie left open. Finally those hot pink leg warmers with your cute little black mary jane flats.

Your hair in two low pig tail puffs with a side part, your favorite hair style. The obnoxiously huge black juciy couture bag filled with singles and a variety of perfume and makeup.

Connie wearing black cargo shorts with the studded black and silver belt you got him for his birthday. “stop trying to turn me emo”, he said laughing at the gift. “i’m notttt but you would look sooo hot if you were though”, you say with a suggestive smile.

He pairs those with a plain black zip up and some black converse. Silver rings bearing his veiny calloused fingers, and that NY cap tilted to the side like he always does. It made you even more mad that he chose to look sexy right now.

You guys get in the uber there because yall know yall will just end up sleeping over at erens like every year. The whole car ride you feel connie’s eyes burning the back of your head, because you turned away from him. He puts a hand on your thigh and lets out a big sigh. He knows tonight is going to be ridiculous.

As soon as you guys arrive at the huge front doors connie spins you around holding you by your waist. “Can you drop the fucking attitude already, i’m not tryna have you pissed at me all night over dumb shit.” You look at him with an amused expression on your face. “kiss my ass connie, you do you i’ll do me”, you say coldly. Before he can even respond your already strutting inside the doors.

‘This girl is about to get handled in a second’ connie thinks to himself.

You find sasha and basically knock her over as you run and jump into her arms. She already has shots lined up for you so you start going ham. Throwing back shots like it was water. Connie meets up with eren and jean to find out whose buying so he can make his deals.

A couple hours into the party you’re already pretty drunk. You decided to go and dance your heart out on the huge dance floor in the living room. The entire night you’ve been mean mugging connie when he would make eye contact with you. To make him mad you were even twerking all over sasha and mikasa, sasha catching all of it smoothly of course and mikasa looking nervously at connie trying not to make as much contact.

As you danced all over the floor alone sipping on a margarita sasha made you, a guy approach’s you.

He starts dancing closely around you until he suddenly grabs your waist. You push his hands off quickly slurring a weak ‘i have a boyfriend’ as you try and ignore him and continue to dance.

Connie who was on the couch smoking a blunt notices this and gets up from his seat. “Fuck off before i kick your ass i’m in a bad mood”, he says glaring at the guy.

You’ve seen connie get mad before but never anything too extreme. He usually knew how to keep a level head in situations like this. But tonight, you acted a fool and he wasn’t gonna let that slide.

The guy steps in connie’s face and says “or what exactly? i’m just tryna have a little fun man.”

You stop dancing and finally notice the two men are getting a little too close for comfort. this can’t be good. You go to tell connie that your okay but then you see connie’s arm raise and punch the shit out of that guy. He gets on top of the guy and just starts wailing on him. Eren and jean quickly run over to grab him off.

Connie’s face is flushed red, his eyes are low and he’s sweating. He pushed as jean and eren off and looks at you with his glossed over eyes bearing into your soul.

You run over to him shoes in hand as you took them off like two hours ago. “Connie what the fuck dude you didn’t have to beat him that bad and you know it”, you say aggravated because now everyone’s attention is on you two. “Shut the fuck up and come on we’re fucking going to bed Y/n”, he grabs your hand forcefully towards the door.

You pull back defiantly, “You go, IM not ready to sleep yet THANKS”. You start to head back to the dance floor when you feel his big hand wrap around your throat from behind. He leans down to your ear tightening his grip some. “We’re going upstairs and fixing that fucking attitude of yours before i snap”, he grits through his teeth.

You nod your head reluctantly, secretly getting excited about it. You been waiting for him to finally take you upstairs, you just refused to ask him. Everyone watches as you guides you upstairs still holding the back of your neck. “Take a picture or something you fucking FREAKS”, connie yells behind his shoulder.

The second you step into the room connie shut the door and locks it. He walks over to you picking you up and tossing you on the bed. You let out a small yelp and before you can protest he flips you over on the edge of the bed.

He slides your panties clean off ripping up your dress to show your exposed bottom half. He leans over top of you getting close to your ear again. “You’re gonna learn to listen to me y/n, you know i only want your crazy ass”, he rasps under his breath. You can feel his bulge twitching against your ass.

He leans back and slides his pants down to his ankles along with his boxers. He guides his dick towards your entrance, moaning softly as he rubs against your clit. You’re already soaking wet, the sounds of him mushing against you are loud. He slides in causing both of you to let out a moan. He starts pumping in and out of you slowly, the drugs in your system heightening your sensitivity.

He picks up his pace and now the room is filled with loud slapping and moaning as he reaches deeper and deeper inside you. He grabs your hair forcing you to stand up against him. He takes his phone from the side of the bed and starts recording you guys from the front. Your makeup is already running, eyes squeezed shut trying to focus on your orgasm. He slides out and flips you again into missionary position.

He flips the camera backwards zooming in on your face. Hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, mascara running down your eyes and your plump glossy lips parted from all the panting your doing. “god you’re so fucking sexy”, he says in between moans. He ends the recording and starts to go even faster making you arch your back off the bed in pleasure.

You feel the knot unfold quickly in your stomach and your filled with complete bliss as you both cum together. He flops on top of you with all his weight, out of breath and in a daze. He lifts his head up and gives you sweet kisses from your neck to your cheek then to your lips. The kiss being sloppy and filled with passion as if he’d been waiting all day to do this.

He rolls on the side of you and grabs his phone. He guides you to lay on top of him nuzzled in between his neck and shoulder. He goes to the video and posts it to his story. His main story. With your face covered with the heart eyes emoji of course. He writes ‘don’t bother hittin my dm this is my only girl 😏’.

He puts his phone back down and pulls you closer to his chest. “I…I love you y/n and i’ll never cheat on you i promise baby, don’t ever think otherwise again”, he whispers into your ear. Your still kind of out of it but you manage to mutter “I love you too connie”, before your eyes flutter shut.

He turns the light off with his phone and wraps the blanket around the two of you.

‘I love her but she is a trip’ he thinks to himself before he drifts to sleep, ignoring all the dms he’s getting on instagram.

#black girl blogger #aot fanfiction #connie smut #aot fanfic #not proofread #drabble #plug!connie #black reader #sorry this took forever

187 notes · View notes

girldragongizzard · 19 days

Text

Chapter 9: Breakfast sans bed

Do you ever get tired of your own thoughts and the words in your head?

It’s Thursday, day six of my actual life, the life I’m finally living, and the Kims have opened the shop again. But Jill is hanging out in the lobby, and Nathan is helping the delivery man carry the coffee shipment into the back.

Nathan is a graying, bearded man with a gruff cheerfulness that’s delightful and friendly, and I love him. He’s almost like a human dragon himself, but not a threat to my territory. And, even though he’s nearly six feet tall, he looks like a dwarf in one of the shop aprons, which are all hand sewn by one of the owners. He usually picks a brown and orange one with a floral pattern and black frills. It goes pretty well with his Spanish moss green button down shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and brown Keen Austins today.

Nobody is talking to me. But they are all talking to each other, and that suits me just fine. Though I can’t really hear what’s being said inside the shop. I get snippets of conversation when Nathan or the delivery guy go through the door.

Kimberly’s given me her tablet, and I’m occupied with the now lengthy and tedious task of making it mine.

I can’t remember my cell account information, and I’m not sure this device is compatible with it anyway. In order to try, I’d have to get back into my apartment and look for the original paperwork, which I’m not even sure I can manipulate well enough to keep it legible. Or open the locked door somehow and get someone like Rhoda to do it for me. That means finding my keys.

Doable.

But, in the meantime, I do have the shop’s wifi code. The tablet is already set up with it, but Kimberly gave me a slip of paper and weighted it down with an empty coffee cup, when she delivered my morning joe.

My stomach is full of a couple of awful seagulls, though. I feel like the process of getting them in there should have left me more disturbed by it than I am. They were alive recently, but not when I swallowed them. But I didn’t cook them and I didn’t pluck them. And coffee just doesn’t sound appetizing yet.

I’ve just got the AAC app set up again, and am now examining my deeply singed and questionable purse, when someone vaguely memorable walks up to my table with fists on his hips. There’s an envelope in his right hand, flapping in the morning breeze.

“This isn’t working,” he says to me. “We’ll box up your belongings and deliver them to an address you supply. But you cannot re-enter your apartment. Furthermore, we can’t have you on the premises anymore. [Deadname], you are being evicted.”

I sit up so that my head is slightly above his, and turn my gaze to face him, without saying anything or making a noise. I just study him.

This is Dave. He works with the property management. One of my landlords.

He takes a step back, blinking a couple times, and then holds out the envelope for me to take it somehow.

I look at the envelope, but do nothing else.

“Meghan? Is this man bothering you?” Nathan asks from the other side of my table, where he’s standing now, arms folded across his chest.

“Yes,” I say with my new tablet. Easy and quick. I don’t even change my focus from the envelope.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Nathan says with obviously great relish. “The lady here has expressed she has no business with you.”

Dave blinks at him, appears to stammer without making any noise, and then says, “I’m just doing my job and serving this… individual… an eviction notice as required by law.”

“I think not,” Rhoda says from behind me, well within my peripheral vision.

I did see her coming up, but had only shifted my focus to Dave’s face.

“What?” Dave says.

“If you evict this dragon, Dave,” Rhoda says. “Another will just take her place. And I don’t think you want any of the alternatives. She’s keeping the riffraff out. And I know. I’ve seen one of them.”

Nathan takes a determined step toward Dave, moving to crowd him off the sidewalk, or further down it.

But Dave stands his ground and raises his voice. “This… dragon’s former apartment must be repaired, and that hole properly shored up and patched, or this whole building will be condemned. Including this coffee shop. Do you all want that?”

“You can give her another apartment, or the roof, if she can’t stay in that one while you fix it,” Rhoda says. “I don’t know what law you’re referring to that requires an eviction. She’s not the one that damaged the building.”

Dave addresses her, “With the kind of racket it’s been making, we can’t have it –”

“Sir,” Nathan snaps, stepping up until he’s pushing against Dave’s arm with his crossed forearms.

“What?”

“You will address the lady properly,” Nathan insists. “Her pronoun is she/her.”

Dave glances at me, and I yawn. There may be seagull meat or feathers between my teeth. My breath probably doesn’t smell great. Then I give him a sarcastic cat smile.

“Well,” Dave says, swallowing. “She… cannot reside in that apartment while it’s being repaired. And we do not have any vacancies. And the roof is not a suitable living area. For one, there is no running water there. And… And we cannot have the noise that she is making. There are people trying to sleep at all hours.”

Both Nathan and Rhoda open their mouths as I raise a knuckle to my new hand-me-down tablet, but Dave raises a finger and clears his throat.

“It’s out of my hands, anyway,” he says firmly. “It’s not my decision. I’m just the messenger.”

My knuckle hits the tablet screen, “No.”

Completely flustered, Dave asks, “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I believe she means that you can’t make her,” Nathan explains.

“Well, normally she’d have thirty days to vacate the premises, but construction must start today,” Dave replies. “She cannot be allowed to return to her apartment. Otherwise, management’s next step is to call animal control.”

Oh, there it is.

I laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh, and it sounds like a WWF wrestler banging a couple of wooden blocks together as hard as possible.

Then I start bobbing my head, punctuating it occasionally with an upward head jerk.

Eyes wide, Dave backs off, leaning forward only to toss the eviction envelope onto the table, and then hurries back down the street toward the apartments’ lobby door. Slows down halfway there and straightens himself out, huffing and stomping his feet as he goes, working his shoulders and trying to take up as much space as possible. But he does not look back.

Oh, I want to chase him down so bad.

But, I am a civilized dragon, and I do not.

I do one more head bob as Nathan and Rhoda watch me, then I turn to my tablet and type something out, while they wait patiently.

“This not work,” I say. “None of it work.”

Dammit, this app doesn’t work on the cloud and I need to rebuild my saved phrases. Not that I had that many.

Rhoda heaves a big sigh and moves around the table to sit opposite me, while Nathan relaxes his arms and steps back out of her way. Then, while she’s sitting down, he goes to get his own chair to come over and sit in it.

I’m already typing out more to say, but Rhoda speaks before I’m done.

“Chapman and I spent a lot of time in the library yesterday, and I think we may have found some good candidate lairs for you, Meg,” she says. “I know you don’t want to move from here. I can tell. But –”

“I am not leaving,” I say. “This building is mine.” Then I look pointedly at her, then knuckle in two more words to remind her. “You say.”

She said it herself to Dave.

She leans back in her chair and exhales through her nose.

Nathan makes a humming noise, as if he’s about to say something, then leans forward a little and looks like he’s chewing on his words while he squints at the eviction envelope. There’s presumably a letter in there.

“I’ve done property management,” he says, after a bit. “Unfortunately, they are legally within their rights to serve this to you. I don’t like it, but it is a fact. I don’t think we can fight it legally.”

“I do wonder if you can hang out on the roof anyway. Are you an animal in the eyes of the law or a person?” Rhoda asks. “But your stuff needs a home.”

“I worry they’ll declare her an unsanitary infestation,” Nathan says. “But, I’ve got a garage we can put her stuff in.” He looks at me, “Animal or person, you’re family.”

I have emotions. They’re all in me. And the two of them wait for me to say my piece.

“I fight dragons and win,” I say. “I mark my space. If I leave, other dragons fight here. Things get worse. You are family. I protect you.” Then I huff and try my cool coffee. It’s getting to be a hot day, and coffee that’s not exactly hot seems fine.

I can’t exactly feel the heat of the day, but I see it. I think it needs to get a lot hotter before my body notices in a way I’ll recognize it. But my mouth is more sensitive, despite what it can do, and cooler liquid is desirable right now.

“There’s a… Meg,” Rhoda says. “There’s a… right…”

“I’ve got it,” Nathan says, and leans forward and plucks a small seagull feather out from the corner of my mouth, and then turns it in his fingers to examine it in the sun. “Did you eat a seagull?”

I stop drinking just long enough to hit the numeral, “Two.”

“That must have been some breakfast.”

“I’m glad I didn’t see, or hear, you do that,” Rhoda says.

And then we spend the next half hour or so of the morning just enjoying each other’s presence and maybe thinking about things. Except me. I’m doing my best to not think.

I’m not great at not thinking, but I find that if I focus on the fact that this is my coffee and these are my friends, my mind doesn’t bother wandering over much else.

“So, Meg,” Nathan says, after a bit. “I haven’t seen you since before, you know. Kimmy told me your name and pronouns, even. What’s it like?”

I consider this question. I want to tell everyone all about it, really. There’s so much to say.

“Hard to talk,” I say. “Many thinking. AAC not easy. Slow.”

“Ah, I imagine so,” he says. “Take your time. I’m off shift now.”

I take my time with my next sentence, spelling it out, “No, this is part of it.”

“Ah, yeah.”

“You’re getting pretty good with those knuckles there, though,” Rhoda observes. “I wonder what you could do with an oversized keyboard on a laptop.” She looks at Nathan, “Do they make those?”

“It wouldn’t help much here. Kind of clunky,” he says. “But let me do a search.” And he leans further forward to fish his phone out of his back pocket, so he can do some screen shopping. He gets results pretty quick. “Oh, here’s one! And it’s called a Redragon. Woah, it’s expensive, though. Gaming keyboard. Twenty-eight inches across, though. That’s about this big.” He holds his hands apart, his phone in one of them, displaying an image of the keyboard.

“Let’s get her that,” Rhoda says. “She really does need to write up her experiences. All of them, if possible. The world needs to hear from the dragons, I think. It’s early in all this, but I can tell. It’s going to be critical.”

“Hmm,” Nathan considers it. “I’ll talk to the bosses. I think she could use the backroom as an office when they’re not doing management stuff there. And I’ve got an old desktop that can do LibreOffice and probably run this keyboard.”

“That, I think, would be perfect,” Rhoda says.

I begin typing again, and they wait.

“My brain is home now,” I say. “My body is home now. I have friends now. Seagulls taste like shit.”

Both of them laugh, and Nathan says, “Then don’t eat them!”

I patiently say, “Then eat what? Hungry for seagulls.”

“Well,” Nathan suggests. “If you’re not going to pay rent anymore, what if you use all your money on steaks?”

I tilt my head.

“Here. I’ll do the math,” he says. “You get, what, something like $640 a month, I imagine?”

I lift my head in affirmative. It’s close enough.

“Alright. If you’re eating seagulls, and you just want as many calories as possible, let’s go with the cheapest steak from the most reputable store. Don’t want to get sick,” he says as he types into his phone, looks at the screen for a bit, and then switches apps again. “Well, OK, with ground chuck, you could buy about 95 pounds of meat a month. And that’s…” he scowls at his phone. “3.1 pounds of meat a day.” He looks at me. “A hamburger is a quarter to a third a pound of meat, usually. Though I make half pounders sometimes. I honestly don’t know if that’s enough for you though. Or if you need variety.”

I consider this.

“But it’s gotta be more efficient and easier to eat than hunting down seagulls,” he says.

“I want hunt,” I reply, after another moment of thought.

He quirks an eyebrow and smirks, saying, “I could tie a steak to the back of my truck and drive down the street for you.”

I give a light knocking noise and bob my head a couple of times, then tilt my head sideways away from him.

“It’s amazing,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You are at once totally different now, but also really just more you. I recognize you, Meg. I see you. And if you don’t mind me saying, you are beautiful. I don’t know if I understand all of your expressions and gestures, but I feel comfortable and calm around you, more so than ever before.”

“And that is what I think everyone should know,” Rhoda says.

“I agree,” Nathan concurs.

“Let’s get that keyboard.”

“Yeah.”

We spend the rest of the morning talking about lighter things, with me taking time to program my AAC with useful phrases while listening to them share stories about neighbors and tenants, or customers at the coffee shop. And for a little bit, I demonstrate my ability to imitate various sounds, and try to learn a couple new ones. I can do a really good seagull and a crow. And then that gets me on to the subject of my neighboring dragons. And I share the names I’ve made up for them:

Loreena

Waits

Poink

Theremin

Chickadee

Godzilla

Wilhelm the Screamer

Weedle

Turbolaser

Lumberjack

Cricket

and

Caterwaul

All names that describe the sounds that they make, to me. I know they’ve actually got their own names, and maybe if they start updating their own blogs I might learn them. I don’t think we’ll be having face to face conversations, though.

I do wonder what they all call me.

And it’s right about that point, just after noon, that Chapman comes walking down the street on hir lunch break, and Kim gets off her shift and comes outside.

The sight of Chapman reminds me of something I don’t think I’ve told anybody yet. Maybe I told Rhoda, but I don’t remember, and I feel like bragging to Chapman.

When the other two join us, standing briefly in the empty-ish spots around the table, I say, “I can breathe fire.”

“What,” Kim says.

Chapman lights up.

Nathan raises his eyebrows.

And Rhoda says, “I think I’ve gotta check the news again.”

#writeblr #dragon #original fiction #serial fiction #transformation #transgender

7 notes · View notes

se0bs · 1 year

Text

𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌，𝖯𝟣𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗒

𝖲𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌－𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌！！（𝖥𝗍𝖬）

𝖨𝗇𝖿𝗈－𝖨𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗂 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍！！𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖯𝟣𝗁，𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽，𝖱𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌－𝖲𝗎𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗒，𝖻𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋？

Keeho

If your transition in your guys relationship this men with BUY YOU A WHOLE NEW CLOSET LIKE NOT EVEN KIND YOU. I Ik he steals your clothes even if you’re taller or shorter he always has a piece from your closet. People look at you werid not no more he glares at them till they run away.

“Keeho where did you put my fav cargo shorts?” Yelling at keeho who is in the living room with his members.”Ummm I’m wearing them right now” he yelled back at you.Slients in the air…hearing feet crash in the floor you walk past keeho in his pants.😭

Theo

Matching is a must with him. At this point you guys should just be in one body. He probably has hella clothes so no need to buy just steal from him.

“Look at this is so cute” Theo said holding out a blue cardigan.”Yea” not looking up from the rack your looking at.”I’m going it and you one too” he said grabbing your size.”Ok love”…next thing you know he has a stack of clothes

Jiung

I could see him making sure that you take breaks from your binder.Like he has alarms to tell you. He wants you to be safe but also feel good about yourself.

“RAHRAGRAG” alarm goes off.”Wtf was that?” You look up at jiung.”Time to take it off”

“WHAT YOU MEAN??” Looking at him worried.”Opss I forgot to tell you it’s for you to take breaks from your binder” taking you to the restroom.”Oh okie” closing the door to get a breath.

Intak

He makes sure to tell you that you don’t need surgery to make you look a way.But if it’s uncomfortable he makes sure to be there for all the pain.Makes sure to take you pain meds to help you.

“You are sure you want to do this?” Intak said in the car.”Yes I’m ready I think it will be the right chose for me” getting out the car.

Soul

I’m telling you this boy is more supportive then idk but yah!! Want new haircut BOOM got one. Want a binder BOOM RIGBT THERE. Not even kind you about that last sentence.

“I’m kind of getting tired of my hair” running through soul jumps right infront grabbing you putting your shoes yourself.

“Soul I can pay if you want” him and his random ass nosies you get what he said.

Jongseob

This boy is the boyish boy I’ve ever seen yk idk but like I feel that vide from him.He teaches you the “ways” to help you feel more masculine.

“your chin is the best feature so pose like this” jongseob said helping you get into position.”Mk” standing there he takes a lot of photos in the position.moving around he take a lot more photos.

25 notes · View notes

sailor-toni · 2 years

Text

The Grandfather You Never Wanted

You can also read on AO3, FF.net, and Wattpad

“Danny? Danny! Danny I can’t understand you. You're gonna have to use actual words,” Tucker said, his phone pressed up against his ear.

“Walker, and my Mom, and him! And ME!” Danny sputtered.

“Is Walker also after your Mom? How many ghosts want to bang your Mom dude?”

“What! NO! Ugh!” Danny took a breath, before restarting his tirade. “I was in my attic with my Mom, and we found some old photos of my Mom’s side of the family, and and and I saw my grandpa, I mean I’ve seen him before but like I’m pictures and such but I know him Tuck, he’s in the ghost zone -”

“Your Grandpa is in the ghost zone? That’s awesome, maybe you can get in more time with him or-”

“No Tuck, my grandpa is Walker.”

The Casper High library was quiet, it’s maroon walls and wooden bookshelves look like they jumped out of the 70’s. Wherever there could be, that shade of deep forest green penetrated the room.

In the far corner, jammed between Emily Dickinson, and the complete 1967 collection of Time magazine sat the trio. Holding a thick scrapbook.

“Your Mom never told you Walker was your grandpa?” Sam said.

“She mentioned him a few times. Like his name isn’t walker but Daniel, and that he died in a prison riot. Also one Christmas he almost burnt the house down with Christmas lights but not much else,” Danny said.

Sam held the picture of Walker up to the scrapbook image of Daniel Walker Smith. In the image he held his wife’s hand as balloons and streamers rained upon them. The next image showed him with his daughters, one looked uninterested to be there, the other had a diamond in her eyes. A shiny new first place trophy in her hands. Walker held them both, a big smile on his face.

“It’s so weird to see him like that,” said Tucker.

“Alive?” replied Danny.

“No, the smile.”

“Walker has never smiled before.”

“Not like that.”

“True.”

“What if you showed Walker this?” Sam spoke up, “Maybe it would jog his memory? Get him to be nicer to you? Or give you a free pass?”

“Oh! Hey Sam's on to something here. Maybe you can pull a few strings and we could finally get somewhere without a ghost map,” Tucker said.

“Yeah, but what if he doesn't care and wipes the floor with me again?” Danny said.

“You never know until you try?” Sam

-----

The cold stone, polished to resemble a large granite wall. Its walls were void of any crack or crevice for one to shove a foot or hand into. And bare of any markings or signs of age. It was the ghost zone eternal prison, where rule breakers could stay for the rest of their afterlife. A dismal existence for sure, and one Danny did not want for the remainder of his mortal life.

What was he even doing here? Even if Walker had forgotten most of his human memories, like some ghosts did, he wouldn't suddenly turn good. Maybe?

Danny envisioned Walker in a pink Hawaiian vacation shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and flip flops with socks on, walking to see Danny's science fairs, or treating him and his sister to a movie, or just hanging out and sneaking him money. Like what Sam's grandma did. But instead of him being dressed in all black, he would be glowing, and floating a few inches off the floor.There was a fat chance of that ever happening but if there was a chance, Danny would like to know if this man was actually his grandfather. Does Walker know already? Does he know and just not care? That would match up with how his Mom described him.

A scream from the prison echoed across the stone walls, the sound bounces off its surface. Danny cringed. Maybe he wouldn't be like that, but if he knew, maybe he would do crazy stuff like frame him for kidnapping the mayor. Actually no, this was a horrible idea. Danny's thought, as he retreated from his grandfather's castle of nightmares. Why would the guy who did that? ! Suddenly try to become grandpa of the year? This was a dumb idea and he knew it.

“Hey who’s there?” Danny froze, behind him was a guard, green oily skin, red eyes, and a face that only a mother could love. Floating there, a baton charged with energy in his left hand. A flashlight in the next.

“Freeze! Ghost boy!” Danny flew, his feet were swept off the ground by his own flight response, their ghostly trail trying desperately to catch up with his torso.

His hands grazed against the wall, he flew in fluent zig zags, his reflection smearing against the stone walls. losing its composer as with each turn he took. The ectoblast from the guard’s batons disturbing both the stone and the reflection, sending deep cracks throughout each. Two more guards, uglier than the last, flew up from the bedrock, to greet him. Then three more came in from the side. If he only acted, he would be surrounded.

He charged the gates but the bars were up. He charged the eternal green sky, only for the guard’s blast to collide with his route, striking his legs and searing his sides. Falling back into the prison’s center field, the horde surrounded him, creating a hurricane of guards with him at the center. All flying into perfect range. Gripping his chest Danny focused on his core, the ensuing ice crawling around his skin like an infection, the frost becoming unbearable as it covered his black suit. His body aching from the frozen mess building up inside him, his fingers were throbbing from the frostbite overcoming them.

When the ground was nearly upon him, Danny let it all out. A shockwave of ice erupted from his body, devouring everything within range. The guards close to him were frozen solid, their green skin now a pale white within the ice. The further back they were the less they were affected. The furthest only having their hands turned into throbbing ice cubes.

Landing hard on the ground, the shockwave, only stalling his fall for a moment. Danny rolled away from the falling ice guards. The sounds of frozen ectoplasm shattering against the rock reverberated around the prison, allowing him to run. His ghostly tail coiled before shooting him up into the green sky. The prison shrinking below him as he reached into the never-ending sky. The wispy mist that made up the Ghost Zone’s swirls acted like shining stars in this thrilling escape.

But there is only so close you can get to any star before you start to burn. With a loud crack he was cast down from the heavens and crashed into his own mess of frozen guards. The ice cut deep into his back and the blow to his head made his vision sparkle. Far above him stood a lone pale rider, with a tall black hat. The image of him faded into darkness as Danny felt a light go out in his head.

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

White blasted his vision before the feeling returned to his body. Danny had been handcuffed to both the steel table and the metal chair. The harsh white light from above sterilized the room, and highlighted the black mirror facing him. This was not part of his agenda today.

Danny didn't even try to phase through the handcuffs, they were probably ghost resistant, like everything else in this prison. So, he sat there. Staring at the ceiling, making funny faces in the mirror, singing a song.

“Ember you will remember, Ember, so smart and brave. Ember you won't surrender! You will remember my name!” Each note was purposely sung in the worst annoying tone he could manage. Adjusting volume as needed to maximize irritation.

“Would you shut up?” The door swung open, and Walker walked in. His white skin blended into his suit.The thick black tie around his neck marked where one began and the other ended. “You break into my prison, a feat that has never been attempted before, and scream as soon as you wake up,” He slammed a thick folder labeled ‘ghost boy’ on the table. “Why.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command.

“I had some questions and I was hoping you would answer them,” Danny said.

“Questions? Don’t make me laugh, Phantom. Why on earth do you think I would answer any of your questions?”

“Madeline Fenton, or I guess you would know her as Madeline Walker.”

“You think I keep track of every human in your world? Unless they come here I don’t care.”

“I never said she was human?”

“Unless a ghost has broken the law I don’t have a record of them.”

“What? No, you know I didn’t come here for a record! I saw your eyes. You know who Maddie Fenton is!”

“What I know is that you were spotted on the westside by two guards and then you caused an incident in my prison. Again. And this time I am not letting you leave. You have broken almost every law-”

“Bullshit.” Danny rolled his eyes. His emotions gathered up in his palms, the light frost building up into a sheet of ice over the handcuffs.

“You wanna repeat that again?” Walker leaned in close, if he were alive Danny would’ve felt his breath on his skin.

“Bullshit! Your laws are just rules you made up. You have no authority, you're not the Ghost King and even if you were I would toss you in that coffin with Pariah!”

“I am the only thing protecting this world from anarchy! My rules-”

“Are bullshit! Just like you! You’re nothing but a dictator who gets off on torturing everyone here!”

“Boy, I would -”

“Would what?! Hit me? I can level this entire prison and you know it!”

“I would like to see you try!”

Danny smashed the cuffs on the table, shattering them before he lunged at Walker. The two tumbled through the glass. A blast of ice echoed through his body and crawled up the walls. The guards' mouths made a feeble eek noise, before the ice froze them to the wall. Walker’s arm’s set themselves ablaze with a dark purple. His limbs cracked free from the icy floor.

“I don’t know what crawled up your arse today boy -” Walker’s body flew from the room, the steel walls breaking upon his back. Danny threw the man into the prison courtyard. The purple dirt and sand smudging all over his white suit.

It didn’t make sense, Danny thought. He pulled out the picture from his pocket and looked again. The man had a pink human skin tone with blue eyes, but everything else was the same. Even down to the stupid white suit. Walker’s reaction was like his mother’s.

He asked her while they were cleaning up after dinner. The question came out of his mouth through a stutter, but once it was understood. The yellows and green of their retro style kitchen felt like vomit on his skin. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Why do you want to know about your grandfather?” She asked.

“It’s a school project. We are supposed to look into our family trees and talk about someone who did something important. Did you know that Tucker’s second cousin was the first in his family to get a masters? And Sam’s grandfather invented the toothpick thing, the one that spins?” He rambled.

“Your Grandfather was a warden of one of the prisons up north. He worked there from 1954 till the day he died,” His mother set a plate down hard on the drying rack.

“Oh, did he do anything cool? Like, stop a prison riot or something?”

“No, there was only one riot and that was the day he died.”

“Oh! I’m sorry I-”

“The riot didn’t kill him. It was very small and easily contained. But it gave him such a scare that he had a heart attack and died.”

“Oh… um was he well liked?”

“No. Your Grandfather was a prison warden every moment of his life. At his job, at home, and even at his children's baseball games.”

“I didn’t know you played baseball.”

“It wasn’t for very long but, the coach said I was the best batter he had ever seen.”

“Oh really? Well of course he did. You’re amazing Mom.”

“Aww. Thank you sweetie.”

“But um it doesn't sound like you liked Grandpa very much.”

“No one liked him very much. He was a very bitter man who was very cruel to everyone he knew. When he died your Father and Aunt Alicia took bets on when he was going to rise from the grave.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, I think Alicia walked away with over seven hundred dollars.”

“Dad paid her that much?”

“No! He gave her two hundred. The rest of the family gave her the rest. She was the only one who said he was going to stay there. I’m sure if he tried to come back Alicia and your Father would be first in line to put him back in his grave.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah? You're a ghost hunter right?”

“A ghost hunter, not a zombie hunter.”

“What if he came back as a ghost?”

“Then Alicia owes me seven hundred dollars.”

“Mom I’m serious, if Grandpa came back would you want to see him?”

“Yes, and no. That is a very tough question,” her lips here pressed in a line again. “I would thank him. It must have been hard to raise two girls as a single father. And he tried his best to raise us, even if his best was strict and controlling. I wouldn’t have what I have now if I didn’t rebel against him. I went to a college I know he hated and there I met your father.”

“That sounds very sweet.”

“I would then blast him into several pieces and destroy his cells. That man ruined my prom dress, insulted your father, and then didn’t even show up to my wedding!” She slammed the plate into the drying rack, snapping it in half. “Not to mention that he got me kicked out of the girl’s baseball team for punching the coach! Who even does that? And he scared away any boyfriend I had by having the local cops drive around their houses. The only reason your father stayed is because- and Danny when I say this, know that I love your father more than any man in the world- your father is too stupid to know when his life is being threatened.”

Danny snickered as he handed his mom the Fenton mess cleaner. It was a broom that had been painted silver with a green F vinyl cut out on it. His Mom continued to go on and on about her Father as she cleaned up her mess.

“So… I shouldn’t write my paper about Grandpa?” Danny put the last dish away.

“No. I don’t think your teachers would find him very interesting,” She said.

Would his teachers find this situation interesting? Danny thought. He stared down at Walker, the man pushed himself off the dirt and flung himself at Danny. The picture flew out of his hand, fluttering into the green sky. Blue ice bolted from his palms in short bursts. A few hit Walker but it didn’t slow him down. Black hands tackled him, dragging him to the ground. He grabbed one of the hands and bit down, drawing ectoplasm through the thick leather.

Danny’s vision sparkled when his body hit the dirt, but this time he was ready. The two rolled in the dirt, and attacked one another until a blast of ice blew them both away. The ice had crawled up Danny’s arm like armor, protecting him from injury.

“Your rules can’t be any good if you can’t enforce them!” Danny huffed. Walker took a step forward and froze. He reached down and collected a piece of paper, no. Danny felt around his pockets and realized Walker had the photo. “Hey, give that back!”

“Where did you find this?” Walker said.

“None of your business.”

“Bullshit. Isn’t that one of your favorite words, Boy? Bullshit, you come storming into my prison, with this photo and questions? You’re just as naive as your mother.”

“I- wait! How long did you know?”

“Not the first time, and definitely not the second, But when I went into the human world, my emotions got the better of me and I checked in on my precious daughters. Only to find that she hadn’t divorce that dunce of a man.”

“My Dad might be an idiot, but at least he’s kind.”

“And what did that get him? From the moment I met you, I knew you were no good. Jack Fenton raised his son to be as stupid as he is. One not even smart enough to stay away from prison.”

“You knew this whole time and you still attacked me?”

“OF COURSE! If your father wasn’t going to teach you right from wrong, someone had to.”

“Oh my god. Mom was right. You are an asswhole!”

“Watch your mouth Daniel James Fenton!”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot of things, because unlike your father and your mother, I know that this world is full of dangerous, stupid people who hide in the shadows and take advantage of those who have respect for the law. These laws that you call bullshit? These are the only things keeping the world together. They separate the honest from the thieves. And I am the only one who can find these thieves and protect us all from them. That’s why I built this prison! A place to hold those unfit for the normal, honest people of this world.”

“Am I one of these thieves?”

Walker tucked the picture into his coat pocket. “I think we all know what side you land on.”

“Yeah… the sane one!” Danny let his full powers blast forth from his hands, matching the sudden burst of flames from Walker. The battle raged on until fire took over everything. Walker stomped through the flame and smoke, and saw Danny flying far into the sky.

---------

“To wrap up everything you just told us. Walker is your Grandfather, and he is bat shit insane,” Tucker said.

Danny took a long slurp of a Nasty Burger frosty, “Yep.”

“Great, another crazy villain who thinks he can control everything. Where do these people even come from? Is there a factory that makes creepy old men who want too much power?” Sam said.

“I don’t know, but someone should boycott them. The business practice doesn't seem ethical,” Tucker said.

“Must be making them a lot of money though. Have you seen how many mansions Vlad has?” Danny said.

“Oh, cut it out you two,” Sam rolled her eyes.

“You started this,” Tucker replied.

Danny moved from the booth and grabbed his things. “Well, you two can continue this without me.”

“Where are you going off to?” Sam asked.

“We have that family history project due Monday and if I don’t finish it, Lancer will fail me.” Danny said.

“You're not done yet? It’s like the easiest homework he’s given us,” Sam said.

“Easy for you, your Grandpa invented the spinning toothpick thing,” Tucker said.

“How bold of you to assume I wrote about my grandpa and not my grandma,”

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys at school,” Danny said,

The trio said their goodbyes, and Danny ran home.

---

“Hey Mom,” Danny said, walking down the basement stairs.

“Hey Sweetie, what’s up?” His Mom said. She had a blowtorch in her left hand, and a wrench in her right.

“It’s about that assignment I told you about? The family tree one?”

“Oh Danny, I don’t think I could talk about your Grandfather anymore.”

“No. I was going to ask if I could do it about you?”

She put her tools down, “Me?”

“Well yeah. You’re a star baseball player who has a doctorate in bio engineering. Why wouldn’t I want to talk about that?”

“Well get me a moment to get everything ready.”

#Danny Phantom #Walker #Walker Grandpa AU #Maddie Fenton #Fanfic #Writing #Walker is an ass here

99 notes · View notes

slickchickchocolatier · 5 months

Note

Reina I am so curious on what you look like lol. I think it’s because your work is brilliant and it make me wonder what the mastermind behind these legendary works look like.

😏 😼

Are you the anon that asked for the face reveal? Lol. I’ve been asked a handful of times for a face reveal, and maybe one of these days I might. I’d feel more inclined if this was a trend other writers were doing. But i am stumped as to how you guys are interested bc I am nowhere near as special as my creativity. This is to give you an idea….

Starting back in middle school, going all the way up to graduating from high school, my mom used me to display her level of strictness. This woman was not going to let me be a part of the cool girls club y’all, really. Winter time, it was either jeans (not skinny ones. She would buy me men’s jeans in the smallest size she could find) or long skirts that barely showed any ankle (I hated those long jeans skirts with a thousand buttons on the front but for some reason she’d always buy those ones. I didn’t mind the long flowy ones for summer though.) they were paired with long collars button up shirts with a sweater vest. My hair was always in a bun, sometimes a low poneytail.

Summer was either those flowy skirts that went down to my ankles or grandpa cargo shorts….needless to say I wore the flowy skirts often bc them grandpa cargo shorts were just brutal. I’m convinced she purposely did that for her own amusement. Those would be paired with an oversized t shirt that was tucked in, but I had to wear a sports bra if I wore the t shirt bc she prohibited any form or curve silhouette to be seen. If you guys read the fics I relied like Cherry by @moon7jay or the church one by @hoonieshoney the way they described the reader as far as attire, it was pretty much like that (which is kind of why I could relate to the y/n in those fics lol)

Since enrolling in college, she’s alotted me some freedom to wear what I want but still has some say. I usually opt for straight baggy, or mom jeans and hoodies/t shirts. I keep the hair in the bun just out of natural habit and convenience. But on special events she will dress me up and let me wear my hair down. At this point I continue to dress conservative and casual for convenience lol but some might say my mom trained me for that. She’s a church goer so ofc I go along and I dress for the occasion so I tend to look a little Amish. Sneakers and boots, no heels. And the biggest one, absolutely NO MAKEUP bc she will not allow it EVER. She gave in and let me get all my ear piercings but anything else is a big no-no. She says when I graduate from college, I’ll be old (and smart) enough to dress on my own and wear whatever I want. Lol. She’s a strict and protective mom, and I respect that. (Love my mama ♥️).

Hair is uncolored and I recently cut a bit off for the summer season. I am pale than a mofo. At school they called me Casper (like the ghost) bc they said I was so white, I was nearly transparent. Tall and skinny and built like a teenage boy (I got nothing up in the ta-ta area. ) and I got large bug eyes, thick eyebrows, a small mouth, oval/heart shaped face, loads of baby hair on my forehead, and a small nose lol. The least glamorous individual you’ll ever meet (or one of). My secret weapon are my eyes and I use them against my parents at times to try and get what I want (within reason, like a box of pastries or something) your girl loves the guava-cream cheese croissants. 🥐

4 notes · View notes

hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 8 months

Text

Masterlist

This is every item Panda has written since joining Tumblr*. Some exceptions have been made. This does not include my list of WIPs, because we’d be here forever, and you would be mad at me.** Edits will be made as necessary…when I remember.

If you’d like to see Panda’s original ideas, including OCs, Tickles, and most of the novels I’ve been poking on and off, follow me!

(*Split into separate posts because Tumblr hates commentary. >-<)

(**…Would you guys be interested in seeing my WIPs? Or having access to them in some capacity?)

(Sorted by Fandom, A-Z)

Among Us

Cargo Transfer (2020-)—Yes, despite appearances, this is a story based on Among Us. It’s a strange mix of universes, but I did have fun with it. I was excited to write a mystery or two.

[Technically Ao3 Exclusive!]

Family, Friends, Romance, and Tickles; Minor Violence and Monsters

Current Word Count: 3,605

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Avengers

Not-So-Close Shave (2019)—Uh, yeah, that’s the only one. Oops. I wrote this for Squealing Santa that year. It’s short and sweet, but I admit I remember struggling with it.

Light Romance and Tickles

Word Count: 828

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boku no Hero Academia

Another Year Over (2020)—This was a Squealing Santa story. It’s kind of sad, but I do love the emotions in it. Plus some unique interactions that I don’t write much.

[Ao3]

Processing Grief and Just a Few Tickles

Word Count: 4,812

Birds of a Feather (2023)—This was my most recent commission; it’s been a while since I’ve written for Denki, and I had a lot of fun working him into my AU’s dynamics.

[Ao3]

Instructional Tickle Torture with sneaky OC cameos.

Word Count: 4,186

Cackle Lantern (2022)—A sneaky Halloween idea I suddenly had one day. Secretly a spin-off of one of Ro’s stories. >w<

[Ao3]

Soft Romance and a lot of Tickles.

Word Count: 1,495

Crime Doesn’t Pay, Kids (2019-2023)—My first Hawks story! Also featuring most of my Hero Academia OCs. I love their little Quirks, plus the other scenes I still have planned for them.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Light Tickle Torture and some Combat

Word Count: 7,054

Fight Scene (2020)—Short and Sweet. >w< I wrote this after Chapter 266 of the manga. If you know, you know.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Play-fights and Friendly Teasing

Word Count: 925

Fireball (2019)—A little Quirk concept I used to have. I thought I could make a story out of it, and maybe I still could, but I don’t think it’d be much fun.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

No Tickles… TwT

Word Count: 1,261

For Future Reference (2021)—Might be one of my favorite Ko-fi pieces. Not technically a commission (Or maybe I forgot) but it was a very kind donation from a friend!

[Ao3]

Sappy Romance and some more Intimate sort of Tickles

Word Count: 3,000

From Dust to Dust (2020-)—A character study/AU for Shigaraki’s life if someone had been there when he needed them. I really do love this one and where it’s going.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Angst and Heavy Emotions. No Focus for Tickles.

Current Word Count: 3,430

Get Tased (2017)—One of my first Hero Academia stories! Somehow Denki’s powers still aren’t used in enough tickle scenes.

[Ao3]

Sneak Attacks and Revenge Tickles

Word Count: 2,597

Good Night, Deku (2017)—My very first Hero Academia story; I think I wrote it right after seeing Season 1.

Deescalating from Nightmares and Light Tickles

Word Count: 1,452

How to Stop a Quirk (2019-)—I haven’t forgotten; please don’t be mad. T~T Nearly all of my Hero Academia stories feed back into this AU somehow.

[Ao3]

Scientific Tickles and Varying Levels of Friendly Tickle Torture

Current Word Count: 38,927

Just Joking Around (2019)—I don’t think I’ve seen Ms. Joke in many stories. Not that I remember, anyway. So writing this was really fun. There is a sequel no one asked for in the pile.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Self-Doubt and Combat, with teasy Tickles.

Word Count: 2,733

Katsukisses (2022)—This was about the time I started actively playing with characters’ genders, and I’ve loved it ever since. >w< Bakugou in makeup just feels right.

[Ao3]

Lots of Tickly Kisses, mostly Platonic but there’s a little Queer-Platonic/Romantic in there.

Word Count: 3,772

Kiss and Don’t Tell (2020-)—The only time I’ve really written a hypnosis-type of story; plus he feels bad about it the entire time. Part of me is still thinking about the final chapter.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Hypnosis Tickles and Self-esteem conflict. Minor Sads.

Current Word Count: 2,950

The Missing Pages (2020-)—Some fun little scenes that happen around and between the experiments in How to Stop a Quirk. There’s a little collection by the same name!

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

A Bunch of Dorks Goofing Off. Tickles, Cuddles and everything in between

Current Word Count: 9,563

No Flash Photography (2021)—The first time I’ve gotten to write a spiritual sequel. >w< I’m grateful every day Ro gave me their blessing.

[Ao3]

Sneaky bets, Chess imagery, and Tickle Fights

Word Count: 2,526

Peaches and Scream (2020)—I admit I headcanon a sort of sibling-adjacent relationship between Bakugou and Yaoyorozu, so here’s a little pile of scenes and conversations they have.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Gender Exploration, Characters Goofing around, Not Many Tickles

Word Count: 1,923

Secret Tunnel (2022)—Through the mountain… >w< Just a simple little thing I wrote for a silly idea I had.

[Ao3]

Claustrophobia and Tickles

Word Count: 1,755

Shadow Tag (2022)—A mini commission for a Flame friend. >w< I definitely owe Kuroiro more attention.

[Ao3]

Revelry in the Dark. And Tickles

Word Count: 992

Sunkissed (2023)—Yes, I maintain that I finished this before midnight. This was my most recent Squealing Santa story, and I kinda loved writing someone who loves being tickled without being too teasy about it.

[Ao3]

Childhood Trauma and Being Stuck Watching a Tickle Scene with Loved Ones. So, yeah, Tickles. >w< (Free Cookies if you know what story that comic is referencing)

Word Count: 3,778

Test of Resilience (2017)—Fun fact, at the time of writing this, part of me secretly shipped Shinsou and Tetsutetsu.

[Ao3]

Workout Bros and Endurance Tickles.

Word Count: 1,707

You Put the Spark to the Flame (2021)—Turns out most of my Squealing Santa stories were for Hero Academia. This was a pretty fun dynamic to write. ^w^

[Ao3]

Karaoke and Working through Stage Fright. With Tickles.

Word Count: 1,987

Zombie Killing 101 (2021)—Based on a single throwaway shot during the School Festival. If you know, you know.

[Ao3]

A Sneaky OC and Assaulting Haunted House Staff. With Tickles, of course.

Word Count: 1,473

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday Night Funkin’ (Almost forgot this one. >-<)

Crossfire (2021)—The first FNF story! My AU essentially makes everyone into some level of demon or supernatural being. Thanx to @cutesmokes for yelling about FNF at the time.

[Ao3]

Gun Violence and Demon Magic; Just a Little Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 5,462

Little Brothers’ Rights (2022)—I love Garcello so much. >w< He’s a softie.

[Ao3]

Big Brother Garcy and Tickle Fights, Mentions of PTSD

Word Count: 4,818

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hades

Backstab! (2022)—Writing Theseus is hilarious. And difficult. But hilarious. I should have made this a tickle fight… >-<

[Ao3]

God Sanctioned Tickle Attacks

Word Count: 1,296

Butterfly Kisses (2020)—The first Hades story I ever wrote. I hadn’t even beaten Elysium yet. I was so young. >w< I still think it’s pretty cute.

[Ao3]

Minor Violence and Magic Tickles

Word Count: 1,234 <Achievement Get!>

Hot Foot (2021)—This was written for a friend on Discord at the time. His idea was too good to pass up. >w<

[Ao3]

Someone in a Massive Lee Mood. And Denial About It. Sparring and Tickles.

Word Count: 2,681

Musician’s Hand (2023)—Hey, this one’s new! A birthday present for Ro; and a reminder that we need more Ler Orpheus in the world, please.

[Ao3]

Educational Tickles and A Couple That Has a Room, but the Kid Won’t Leave

Word Count: 1,882

Of an Amber Autumnal (2021)—A mini exploration of a headcanon regarding Zagreus’ powers. I think it’s just pretty cute. >w<

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Flashbacks and Family. Tickles Aren’t a Focus

Word Count: 2,201

Picture Book (2023)—A late birthday gift for a Discord friend. I like the idea of this AU a lot, actually. ^w^

A Little Embarrassment and Tickle Torture Between Friends

Word Count: 2,065

Sleep is for the-- (2021)—I’m pretty sure this was also written to fluster the Discord friends back in the day. >w< Some more Ler Hypnos would definitely be interesting.

[Ao3]

Wake-Up Tickles. A Little Brother Being a Brat

Word Count: 1,066

Song of Merriment (2020)—That thing I said about Ler Orpheus kinda just applies to Orpheus in general. I kind of love the poor guy. >w<

[Ao3]

Sort of Cheer-Up Tickles. Characters Just Being Goofs.

Word Count: 1,569

Submerged Foliage (2021)—I like writing love, okay? >w< Soft, cuddly nonsense that I don’t have. TwT

[Ao3]

Surreal and Silly. Romance and Tickles

Word Count: 1,773

Timebroken AU (2021)--A mod idea I had for Hades back in the day. Definitely staying non-canon with the sequel coming out soon. >w<

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haikyuu!!

Becoming Rough Crows (2016)—Remember when I wrote for Haikyuu? That was fun. >w< This was the first piece of my Rough Crows AU.

[Ao3]

Bondage and some Mild Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 3,808

The Bigger They Are (2018)—Technically the first Haikyuu story I ever started, based on an RP I did with a birb friend.

[Ao3]

Tickle Attacks and Chase Scenes

Word Count: 1,408

Cold Shoulder (2016)—Another Squealing Santa story! I don’t know why, but writing from Yamaguchi’s perspective is very fun.

[Ao3]

Tickle Fights in the Snow

Word Count: 2,306

Collared (2017)—A short scene for a friend. Definitely something I loved at the time.

It’s a Little Spicy, I Guess; Some Bondage and Tickles, a little Romance

Word Count: 675

The First Fox Hunt (2017)—An AU based on another set of RPs I did with birb friend. >w< Probably the only time I’ve written Bokuto.

An Amateur Thief Getting Teased by a Security Guard

Word Count: 3,912

In a Pinch (2018)—The Rough Crows AU! Set around/before the season 1 finale, I think. Hard to say.

[Ao3]

Minor Sads. Some Gentle Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 2,034

Rough Crows Have Soft Feathers (2020)—Tsukishima’s initiation into the team’s little sleepover games. >w< Technically commissioned by a friend to help round out the collection and tie up the cliffhanger left in a previous story.

[Ao3]

Some Playful Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 5,249

Something about Crows and Feathers (2016)—Yamaguchi’s initiation. >w< Like I said before, his character was so fun to play with; I refuse to believe he doesn’t have secret gremlin energy.

[Ao3]

Bonding with Teammates through Tickle Torture

Word Count: 5,969

~~~~~~~~~~~

Iron Man

The Mechanic Returns (2013)—This one gets to be in the Masterlist because I still like it. Keep the Time Travel Disclaimer in mind if you want to talk about it. Yes, I did start writing this within hours of seeing Iron Man 3. >w<

[Ao3] [Original]

Teasing, Tickle Fights, and Criticizing a Child’s Ballistic Weaponry

Word Count: 2,583

#a panda says a thing #a panda writes a thing #tickling #panda's friends #Panda's Masterposts

4 notes · View notes

ultram0th · 2 years

Photo

“Peter! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” Stiles exclaimed as he stomped into the gym, heading over towards the weight pile where the shirtless werewolf was working out. He was ready to chew him out for being M.I.A. for several days, but froze in his spot when he looked over the older former alpha.

Instead of his usual dapper self, Peter was a hulking beast. The shirtless stud sat on the bench and lifted dumbbells, his inflated biceps bulging to the size of bowling balls and without a doubt being no longer able to fit in his tailor-fitted shirts. Speaking of which, his cumbersome pecs were enormous, ballooning out from his chest to the point where they obscured part of his neck and to where his erect nipples were pointing straight downwards. Even his abs were pronounced and his waist seemed pinched inwards before meeting a pair of raggedy cargo shorts that he would normally never be seen dead in. This over-muscled Peter was nothing like the arrogant werewolf Stiles was used to, making his jaw drop in wonder and confusion.

Peter looked over at the surprised Stiles and flashed him a smile, yet his eyebrows were worriedly knitted together. “Yeah Bruh,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual, “all you had to do was check the gym. Ya know I’d here workin’ on my pump!”

He set one of the dumbbells down and flexed a giant bicep in front of Stiles’s wide eyes.

“Feel it,” he teased, leaning closer towards the small human. The cocky smirk that the werewolf wore did not at all match the panicked look in his eyes, which seemed to be silently pleading with Stiles.

“Um, maybe later,” Stiles mumbled, cocking his eyebrow at the muscle man. “Anyways, Peter, why have you been here? I’ve never known you to ever go to the gym once. In fact, I seem to recall you calling guys who go, and I quote, ‘Stupid Muscleheads’.”

“Peter wouldn’t say that,” an unknown voice said.

Stiles looked over to see another muscled up stud sauntering over to the weight pile, clad in nothing but spandex shorts and a yellow tank top that had the sides cut in a way that allowed his hairy, beefy chest to be prominent displayed. The unknown bodybuilder stopped right by Peter and patted his broadened shoulder.

“Peter here lives for working out,” the man laughed. “All this guy’s good for is buildin’ muscle and fuckin’. Right, Peter?”

Peter looked straight into Stiles’s eyes, and the pleading look that they conveyed made the human’s stomach churn slightly. However, the buffed up werewolf bellowed out, “Hell yeah! I love to build up this mass!” To punctuate his point, he made his inflated pecs bounce, the massive mounds leaping up and slamming back down with power, sending a ripple throughout his huge muscles.

Stiles immediately knew that this bodybuilder was behind Peter’s new body and attitude. However, he kept his lips sealed when the man looked over at him, smirking.

“You know what?” he said. “I think Peter’s done for the day. You can take him home.” He turned down to the new muscled up werewolf. “See you tomorrow for your workout.”

“Wait— what?” Stiles called out as the unknown man walked away, leaving him all alone with the bodybuilder Peter.

The newly transfigured Peter stood up, looking about twice as wide as he was before. His large arms rested on his flaring lats, being stuck at an odd angle. His thighs were so large that they rolled around each other with every step, turning his walk into a waddle. He must’ve put on at least one-hundred pounds of solid muscle, completely warping his formerly lean body into a body that oozed muscle and roids.

“Um, should you go get dressed first?” Stiles asked, figuring that he should at least take Peter to Derek or Deaton to try to see what was wrong and how they could help him.

Although the embarrassed look in Peter’s eyes looked like he wanted nothing more than to cover up his new bulk, he shook his head. “No way, Babe,” he chuckled in his deep, slow voice. “I gotta show off these gains wherever I go!”

When the two of them exited the gym doors and were out on the public street, Peter’s face turned bright red with blush as the citizens of Beacon Hills turned to look at his massive, inflated form. He was normally used to people looking at him in admiration due to his designer clothing and charming demeanor, however, now they were marveling at his massive size— some of them drooling with lust while others looking in disgust.

Peter, much to his horror, felt himself throw both of his massive arms up above his head, forming a double biceps pose for all to see. His mouth stretched out into that cocky grin he was forced to wear, and despite himself, he hated that he was getting so incredibly turned on by showing off his vast form to the onlookers… but that paled in comparison to how rock hard he got at the thought of smothering tiny Stiles with his giant pecs, his heart racing at the thought.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Stiles said as he grabbed a hold of the werewolf’s beefy hand to lead him to his Jeep, “we’ll figure out how to change you back.”

He helped Peter into the passenger seat, trying to hold back a smile when the seatbelt completely disappeared into the cleavage of his giant pecs. When Stiles got into the driver’s seat, he stifled a laugh when he had to lean to the side a little bit due to the hyperbolic broadness of Peter’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just a little too buff for your ride, Little Man,” Peter boasted, and Stiles knew that was his way of apologizing for the inconvenience his size created.

“It’s cool,” Stiles reassured him, patting him on the hand. As he did so, he felt Peter grab a tight hold of it.

Instead of his eyes looking panicked, Peter’s eyes actually looked pleased as he stared down at the little human by his side. “Ya know,” he playfully growled, “I can show ya another muscle of mine.” He winked and gestured down at his shorts.

Stiles’s eyes nearly exploded as he saw the giant arm Peter’s cock had become. It snaked down his leg, looking about as thick as Stiles’s forearm.

Peter flirtatiously bounced his pecs, looking at Stiles expectantly.

“Well,” Stiles hummed, flooring the Jeep in the direction of his apartment, “I guess we can fix this a little later.”

-- -- --

[Photo Source: https://www.deviantart.com/doryfan1/art/Muscle-Morph-Ian-Bohen-1-544217699]

#Ian Bohen #Peter Hale #Teen Wolf #Stiles Stilinski #Steter #Muscle #Musclegrowth #Himbo #Himboification #Jock TF #Bodybuilder #Bodybuilder TF

49 notes · View notes

plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 3 years

Text

Nemesis: Retribution (4)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOUR (18+ ONLY. I WILL BLOCK YOU), voyeurism, exhibitionism, authority kink, praise kink, spanking, slight dom themes, polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, mentions of character death, fluff if you squint,

A/N: Slowing it down just a bit to move plot along. Freaking out on the reblogs and comments are encouraged and will be rewarded with cookies. Seriously though, I love hearing what you guys think and use some of it to make the next chapters better. I adore you all! Have at it!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:4 Apple Crumble

Steve Rogers had kindly offered for you and your team to stay at the Compound. For however long this mission would take, you were all going to start running straight at it early tomorrow. In terms of the mission, he was relieved to have your help. The sooner the serum was out of circulation the better and they truthfully did need your help. This underground world was more your scene now and you could better navigate it.

On a personal level, he was glad that you were sticking around even if it was on a contract. He would take whatever opportunity he can and make the best of it. That's how he's always been and he wasn't going to change that now.

He told himself that it was because he was the Captain that he was at your door this late after you all had agreed to part for the night. It was out of consideration that he carried with him some of his own clothes to offer you in case you needed something to change into. It was out of a need to clear the tension with you now that you were going to work as a team again that he was knocking on your door.

That was all.

You opened the door a moment later wrapped only in a short towel and with your hair still dripping wet from the shower. The smile that rose on your face was sly as you leaned on the doorframe with your arms crossed and your hip cocked to one side. He swallowed.

Maybe that wasn't all.

"What can I do for you, Cap?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was far too distracted by the little droplet that rolled down from your temple to the valley of your breasts. He shook his head and cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus only on your eyes and not the inappropriate answers that sprung to mind at your question.

"I brought you a change of clothes in case you need it," he managed to say. "And I wanted to talk to you if you're not too tired."

You opened the door wider and took the clothes from him without a word, turning into the room toward the bathroom. You casually dropped your towel to the floor and Steve choked at the sight of your bare back, a small set of black panties the only stitch you wore. The breath in his chest released only when you disappeared into the bathroom, the door cracked open offering him enticing glimpses as you moved around.

Steve hurriedly closed the door behind him and as he made his way further in, he caught sight of an open go bag beside your bed with clothes clearly visible. There was also a shirt and sweats beside it, the design he knew belonged to Pietro. He felt a little embarrassed. Of course Pietro would have already beaten him to it and that your team always came prepared. Still there was a satisfaction that bloomed in him when you stepped out clad in his shirt, the hem barely reaching mid thigh and bare feet soundlessly crossing the carpeted floor until you came to sit with him on the sofa. You tucked your legs under you and rested your head on your hand over the back of the seat.

"Gotta say I like this look, Steve," you grinned at him.

He chuckled, self-consciously rubbing at his beard and pulling at the hair at the back of his collar. The light dusting of red on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"What? You don't like the all American apple pie look?"

You hummed and took a leisurely look at him from head to toe. Rugged and imposing as he appeared, the heat on his face intensified at your obvious appreciation and the way you swiped your tongue along your bottom lip. You were biting your lip when your eyes met his again, trying to stop yourself from laughing at how flustered he was getting and how much you were enjoying it. You've always found Steve handsome and he made apple pie look damn good, but this look on him was just so dangerously delicious.

You had a type.

"I'm more of an apple crumble kind of girl. I like the texture better," you winked. "And I don't mind a little beard burn."

"Will your team mind that I'm talking to you without one of them here?"

You raised an eyebrow and held his unsteady gaze, clearly understanding he meant more than just your professional relationship with the three men.

"You're curious."

"It's none of my business. That's not what I came to talk to you about," he stammered, unaccustomed to how forward you were.

"What did you want to talk about then?"

"I wanted to apologize properly and thank you for agreeing to help."

You groaned and threw your whole body back on the seat, causing Steve's shirt to ride up just shy of completely flashing him. You sat back up and pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a long breath. It was only the fact that it was Steve that you were even entertaining this conversation.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Steve," you firmly dismissed.

"I do, Nem. We all do."

"Fine. List down what you're sorry about. Let's go through it one by one or we can draw lots to make it interesting."

"Nem," he said, low and clear with warning yet imploring you to listen. "Can you take this seriously for one second?"

The ever present smirk on your face dropped as you sighed heavily and ran a hand through your hair. For the first time since he's seen you, your expression softened a fraction and a shadow of the person he used to know passed across your features.

"Listen to me, Steve. I don't blame any of you. I'm not angry at any of you. I honestly have no room for more anger even if I wanted to be."

In the beginning you were. There were days while you were getting tortured that you hated them while you pleaded to the heavens for them to rescue you. It had taken a decade and three incredible men for that inferno of fury to turn into a manageable bitterness.

"Do you know how tiring it is to be so fucking angry all the time?" you chuckled darkly. "It took a while, but I learned to prioritize what I choose to be angry about."

"Salvacion," he muttered and you nodded, your eyes staring blankly forward.

"I've carried that name for a decade, Steve. That asshole has to die by my hands."

Steve saw now how selfish he was for forcing the conversation with the purpose of earning your forgiveness. It was for easing his own guilt that he was doing it when instead he should have just been thanking you for what you did and had to endure.

"Why didn't you ever come back?"

"I tried, Steve. When I was recovered enough I tried to go back. Did you know my sister had a girlfriend?"

He shook his head, throat suddenly closing at the sight of absolute misery in your eyes. He regretted starting this conversation even more.

"Jill. She was amazing to Lily and she was like a sister to me too," you smiled a little, not in your usual sarcastic way but with a hint of gentle fondness before your expression hardened once more.

"I saw her and I just couldn't bring myself to face her. I'm the reason the love of her life is dead. I couldn't, Steve"

It started off with the fear that they might have killed Jill too. You told yourself you had to know, but truthfully you were trying desperately to find a connection to Lily. You found her visiting the graveyard, laying flowers on two stones and spending the afternoon sitting on the ground tearfully talking to the dead. The shame burned through you and from then on you made it your sole purpose to destroy the man who took Lily from you both. Until then you had no right to face her. You had no right to return to the life you once knew.

Steve noticed that you weren't crying although the look in your eyes was swimming with grief. He expected you to cry, but somehow seeing you with dry eyes only made you look more in pain. You only clenched your fists, your shoulders tense and your jaw stiff. Steve decided he would tell the others instead of having you go through this conversation again.

He would do that for you.

You woke up surprisingly refreshed the following morning, strangely lighter than you have felt in the past decade. You didn't expect for that talk with Steve to have such an impact on you. You smiled ruefully, remembering your many counseling sessions with Curtis before and that maybe you were finally seeing his point.

FRIDAY had directed you to the larger conference room for today's briefing session with the rest of the team. You were wearing another one of Steve's shirts paired with your usual cargo pants, a fact that didn't go unnoticed judging by the raised eyebrows and teasing smiles. Billy in particular was leaning in to whisper to Matt what was going on.

"You don't have to tell me. I can smell it," Matt chuckles, crinkles visible at the edges of his dark sunglasses. "His cologne is quite distinct."

You smacked Billy on the arm, but laughed with them as well before throwing a wink at Steve who proceeded to blush a deep red. As you took your seat, a cup of coffee suddenly materialized in front of you accompanied by Pietro's ever bright smile. You smiled gratefully and took a sip, eyes slightly rounding in surprise at the taste.

"You remembered how I took my coffee."

"I've forgotten nothing about you, little star."

You haven't taken your coffee that way in so long. It's been just strong plain black coffee lately, the lack of sugar and cream where you lived with the boys being a factor. It had seemed pointless to eat something sweet when there was a permanent sour taste in your mouth from life. Now though you couldn't seem to help taking one sip after another, licking your lips before going in for more.

Right now this tasted right.

You didn't notice that Billy was smiling adoringly at you and sharing a look of approval with Frank as the briefing began, happy that someone aside from him was spoiling you. You certainly didn't know that Matt was smirking because he heard your heart literally skip a beat at the sweet gesture.

It took hours for the meeting to wrap up, but there was still more to do before you could actually take action. A number of the Avengers were sent out to gather more intel while the rest would stay to make further preparations.

"I only really need to talk to Frank a bit more," Steve said as he approached your group. "Why don't we have Pietro show you guys around the Compound? There are some improvements I think you'll find interesting."

Your tour guide for the afternoon appeared beside you, taking your hand in his and bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement. He was just too cute that you couldn't help but let out a small smile. The effect he had on you remained it seems.

"A tour would be really helpful for me," Matt easily agreed.

"And I go wherever the pretty girl goes," Billy added, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"Great. Surrender your weapons and you should be good to go," Steve asked with a pointed look at both you and Billy who groaned in answer.

Billy was ready with a string of complaints and counter arguments when the clang of metal on the glass conference table stunned him into silence. He watched in complete disbelief as you removed every gun and blade attached to your body, efficiently dismantling them and lining them up on the table.

"Is she?" Matt murmured, leaning closer to Billy.

"Yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah."

By the time you stepped back, there was practically a decent sized armory on the table. How and where you managed to fit all of it on your person was a mystery to them.

"You missed one," Billy said, snapping out of his daze.

He stepped in front of you and casually slipped his arm up the front of your shirt and under your sports bra. His fingers grazed unnecessarily close to your now hardened nipples and he simply winked when you raised an eyebrow at him. Billy pulled out two small throwing daggers soon after and placed them alongside your other weapons.

"Oh yeah. I keep forgetting about those," you chuckled.

"Do you always come armed to the teeth?" Bucky snapped, clearly bothered by the display.

"She doesn't want her team to carry extra ammo for her, Sergeant," Billy scowled at him, the obvious animosity surprising Bucky. When he turned back to Pietro, his expression was back to his usual playful one. "So how about that tour?"

Frank turned to Steve when you had exited the room. "You gotta teach me that trick, Cap."

"What trick?"

"First time in 10 years I've seen her take any kind of order without a knife fight first," he said, cracking a smile and shaking his head.

It turns out that coming back was doing some good for you and this made him more comfortable around the Avengers. He wasn't about to braid them friendship bracelets but he was less inclined to pop a cap in their ass. At least for the time being.

Walking around the Compound brought back some of that wonder you felt when you first stepped in, but it recalled everything you had lost. Sensing the sudden tension in you, Billy gripped you by the waist and pulled you into his side. He kissed your temple, a silent reminder of what you had gained.

Pietro had been an absolute sweetheart, specifically describing what was in the area for Matt's benefit and pointing out the changes to you. The training area was your last stop, the place you had spent the most time in during your short stint here. There were loud sounds coming from the area and walking in you saw fresh-faced recruits in paired off sparring sessions.

Your full attention was on Pietro as he happily listed off the new features and answered questions from Matt and Billy, the latter now in businessman mode as he thought of what he could implement for Anvil. You were having an unusually pleasant time until a familiar shrill voice demanded your attention.

"Well look what the street cat dragged in. Y/N?"

You knew that voice. A decade with torture and trauma included apparently couldn't change how much her voice grated at you. The cold smirk made a reappearance on your face as you slowly turned to face her, the three men with you were instantly alarmed at the change in your demeanor.

"Kim," you nodded.

"Thought you were dead."

"Thanks. Can't say I thought about you at all though."

"I see you're still pathetically clinging to Pietro."

"What can I say? He's really cute," you said with a wink at Pietro who seemed to enjoy the compliment.

She sneered at you, her irritation rising when you weren't backing down like you used to do. She couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed about you, but you seemed rougher around the edges and far too cocky for her liking. Luckily, she still remembered a sure-fire way to take you down a few pegs.

"I'm teaching a class on hand to hand combat. How about we show them a demonstration on what a real fight looks like?"

You giggled as your smile grew, a disturbing sight that made even Kim doubt herself for a moment. You nodded your head in easy acceptance and she looked like she was pleased at herself for getting this opportunity. Before you could step forward though, you found Matt's walking stick blocking your path.

"What? It's not assault if it's provoked," you grinned at the frown on his face.

He hated it when you found loopholes, but he relented with a heavy sigh. He was too used to this. He leaned toward Pietro and told him that he should inform the Captain.

"Get some snacks too, roadrunner," Billy chuckled, delightedly watching you strip off your shirt and walking confidently towards Kim on the sparring mats.

Pietro had returned a moment later after completing his task, actually handing Billy a bag of fresh popcorn. The smile on his face froze when he caught sight of your bare skin. So far all he had seen as evidence of your torture was what was visible on your neck and face. He had stupidly brushed that fact aside, too excited to have found you again. Now the vicious marring on your beautiful skin was a cruel reminder of their failure as your team. They had failed you.

He had failed you.

Back in the conference room, the same feelings were shared by two super soldiers. They had pulled up surveillance on the training area after Pietro's message, just in time to see you take off that shirt.

Bucky felt the air leave his lungs at the horrific sight. He was alive and you had paid a heavy price for saving him. He could barely keep his eyes on you, the shame burning through him. He didn't want to imagine the amount of pain you had to endure to sustain those injuries.

"Don't you people dare look at her with pity," Frank warned. "Those scars are a testament to her strength. She's damn beautiful."

Steve agreed. He'd caught a glimpse of your scars last night and jarring as they were, your complete lack of self consciousness to them just made you more alluring. Looking back at the screen though he was concerned that you could hurt yourself. Kim was a top agent now, high enough in the ranks to be training recruits and leading missions. She had proven herself deadly in combat, but the way you were grinning was chilling in itself.

"One question before we start," you said.

"What?" Kim scoffed, flipping her braided hair over her shoulder.

"When's your next mission?"

"2 weeks. Why?" she answered, perfect brow raised in confusion.

"Just calculating your recovery time," you shrugged. "I'm nice that way."

Kim predictably charged at you then, growling and cursing at you under her breath. You smirked, standard SHIELD movements were easy to read for you. You stayed completely still and relaxed in your stance as she lunged at you with her fist. You timed your movement precisely, sidestepping at the absolute last moment. One hand grabbed at the back of her head, forcing it down to ram against your oncoming fist with a sickening crack.

Broken nose.

Kim shrieked in pain as the blood gushed from her nose and she tried to pull away from you. You didn't let her. You pulled her down by the shoulder to bend her over before driving your knee up her midsection. She wheezed at the impact, the mat below her smattered with her blood.

Bruised ribs. Maybe slightly broken.

You unceremoniously threw her aside, letting her fall groaning on her side. You clicked your tongue, watching her struggle and turning to the class she was supposed to be teaching.

"Lesson 1, kids," you waved your hands in Kim's general direction. "Don't end up like that."

Broken ego.

You turned to go back to your boys when the glint of metal caught your eye. You tilted your head just in time for the dagger to zip past your eye line, only thinly scratching at your cheek. Your hands reacted on instinct, reaching for the small hidden pocket along the waistband of you pants. You flicked the thin blade with deft fingers, embedding on the mat and landing it purposely close to Kim's eyes that it cut through her fake lashes.

"Nem!" Steve's unmistakable voice boomed through the speakers. You had forgotten that they had FRIDAY everywhere. "We said no weapons."

You rolled your eyes and smiled cheekily at the cameras. "It's just a nail file. I don't like keeping blood under my nails."

"You call that training?" Steve groaned rubbing his eyes and turning to Frank.

"I call that anger management," Frank said, amused at how unpredictable to handle they already found you when they've barely scratched the surface. He noticed how Bucky looked furious, his metal hand clutching a little too hard onto the table. "Don't like what you see, Sarge?"

Bucky didn't answer. He didn't tell them that he didn't like what he saw because he knew he was a major contributor in what caused it. If only he had been kinder, gentler, more honest. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

He walked down the hallways much later gripping a first aid kit in his metal hand and nervously running the other through his cropped hair. The cut on your face was barely anything, but he needed an excuse to talk to you. He was afraid you would turn him away, but he was terrified that you wouldn't. He didn't know what to say to you. He didn't know how to begin to apologize for everything he's done. His palm grew sweaty and beads were beginning to form on his brow.

He was only a few steps away from your bedroom door and he was sorely tempted to turn back around when he noticed that it was cracked open and he could hear voices from inside. He should have followed his instinct to keep his distance but a high whine that definitely came from you pushed him to peak through the small opening.

What he saw made his already thumping heartbeat grow quicker. His eyes grew wide and his throat went dry. Whatever he was expecting, it definitely wasn't this.

You. Stark naked. Grinding your mound on someone's face.

You looked absolutely glorious as you wound your hips in your chase for release; head thrown, back arched, and lips in a dreamy smile. The view he had of you, facing him and deep into your pleasure, was enough to cause his pants to tighten. He couldn't see which one of your teammates was beneath you, the bedframe blocking his view. Whoever they were, Bucky was jealous. He wanted to taste you too.

He felt that stirring of longing again now as he watched you in the throes of passion with another man. He felt it the moment you stepped back into their lives. He felt it during the 10 years they thought you were dead. And he felt it when you were still in training as a recruit every time you smiled at Pietro and Steve.

You picked up your pace and he could see muscular arms reach up to grip your waist and pull you down harder. You were panting curses, your breathing turning erratic and Bucky could see your thighs begin to shake. The sight of you coming undone has to be the most entrancing thing he's ever seen.

Movement from you and your partner pulled him from the hypnosis caused by your erotic display. His face heated up, deeply embarrassed at having watched you for so long and finding enjoyment in basically violating your privacy. He was about to leave when the man whose face you had been riding, came up to kneel behind you.

He pulled your hips back against his own, sliding his hard length easily into your dripping cunt causing you to moan so deliciously that Bucky felt a shiver run down his spine. You reached your hand up to grip the back of his head, letting him bury his own in your neck as he set a languid pace with his thrusts.

Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened, locking directly with Bucky's. You smirked and reached down to circle your swollen bud, pressing your back further against the hard body rutting behind you and purposely putting on a show. You winked at him.

He bolted out of there.

"That wasn't very nice, honey," the low voice was thick with lust in your ear. His breathing was growing labored too, finding your heat wrapping around him overwhelming.

"I don't see you stopping, Captain."

"How can I when you're gripping me so tight?" He snapped his hips earning a sharp moan from you. "Did you like that? Torturing my best pal with me balls deep inside you?"

You sighed and closed your eyes. Apple pie Steve wouldn't have whispered such sinful things to you, but this Steve could make you cum with just filthy words alone.

"Yeah, you did. Look at you clenching and soaking my cock from having Bucky watch you. You like being bad to him, honey?"

A sudden smack to your ass had you snapping your eyes open. He chuckled into your neck, biting down hard on the juncture as he felt you gripping him even tighter.

"Answer," he growled, landing a harsher smack to your bottom.

"Yes! Yes, Captain, I did."

"Good. Will you be good for me now, honey? You caused a bit of trouble today." His thrusting was still slow, making sure you felt every ridge and vein with each stroke as he drove you into a stupor. "Will you be a good girl for your Captain now?"

"Yes, Captain."

He smirked against your skin, pleased at your compliance. He was reveling in the power he had over you. Frank had said that you never took orders without a fight, but here you were being so good for him. Pliable. Yielding. He was enjoying it.

He gathered your hair in one hand and pulled, your back arching beautifully and emphasizing where his cock was buried deep inside you. With each thrust his cock came out glistening with your slick. The image made him lose control, abruptly escalating his pace to rail feverishly into you.

He had you gasping and clutching at the sheets instantly, begging for him to go harder and push you over the edge. He bent over you and reached around to rub furiously at your throbbing clit.

"Cum like a good girl, honey. Cum around my cock," he commanded. "I wanna feel you fucking drown me."

You came, lights dancing in your eyes and your head empty of all thoughts aside from the pleasure that racked your body. He followed soon after with a loud grunt, the sensation of you fluttering around him too much to resist.

He fell on top of you, spent and satisfied. Your sweat and heavy breaths mingling together as you both tried to return back to the world. You liked the heavy feel of him on top of you, strangely finding comfort in the weight.

He dragged you with him when he rolled off you, spooning you and planting kisses on the back of your shoulders that had your skin tingling from his beard.

"When are you going to put him out of his misery?"

"When it stops being fun?" you chuckled.

Steve wasn't going to push the issue. He knew that it was up to you whether you forgave Bucky or not and when that would be. It would be on your own terms how things moved. Just like what happened between you two. He wasn't expecting it, but the heated argument about the injuries you inflicted on one of his best agents had somehow escalated into him spanking you and you growing wet from it.

Not that either of you were complaining.

You turned around in his arms to face him, looking up at him with a taunting smirk. "You sure your old heart can take being in a polyamorous relationship?"

He chuckled and pecked your lips before going back in for a much deeper kiss that had you swooning. When he pulled back, he was looking at you lovingly.

"I'm known for waiting too long about things like this. I lost my shot at you 10 years ago. I'm not missing out on you again."

His words were firm and genuine. He honestly thought that he would mind having to share you with several other men. He thought that he would feel jealous and possessive. Instead, he felt reassured. He knew that wherever and whenever he lacked, someone else would pick it up and he would be the same. There was a sense of relief knowing that you would always be taken cared of by people who felt the same for you as he did.

"Well then you have some making up to do for waiting so long," you said nibbling at his lower lip.

He groaned and grabbed your thigh, hitching your leg up on his hip. Your thighs and core were still sticky and slippery from both your releases. His tongue dove into your mouth and he could feel you moan against his lips as he ran the tip of his cock against your still sensitive core. Your nails dug into his back as he sunk in, fitting perfectly inside you.

"You're running with a super soldier now, honey," he said, eyes burning with want. "I can do this all day."

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

A/N: Some asked about Jill and Kim so here you go, lovelies. Come freak out with me in the comments and reblogs. Thank you all for the support! More coming soon.

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

Series Tag List (Open - Can’t Tag Crossed Out):

@anythingwriter @lazyloki @marvelfansworld @blackbirddaredevil23 @purechaosss @iloveangstposts @onesmokinbabe @jojodojo02 @spookyparadisesheep @strawb3rrydr3ss @studentdoctorstark @siriushxney @hopplessdreamer @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @writingmi @thatguppienamedbae @hotleaf-juice @hxpelessxcean @waywardwifey @girigirll @lunamyangel @lookinsidemyhead @winter-peach-fuzz @lockbox22 @simrantheconqueror @winchestergirl1335 @alexiabey789

Permanent Tag List (Open):

@alwaysclassyeagle @closetbtstrash @fanofalltheficsx @unlikelygalaxygiver @alyispunk @fckdeusername @milkyway-writes @dumb-ass-writer @chrisjaay @kamalymaly @paryl @soccer-100000

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

759 notes · View notes

endobiologist · 3 years

Text

Trans Guy Tips #5; Dressing Good

Today, we're going to talk about basic fashion, and some things trans guys specifically need to know when buying a new wardrobe.

Some of these rules can always be broken, it's your body and your choice what to put on it!

However, this is a guide for passing better, so feminine and androgynous looks will not be covered here, only the traditional masculine. I will most likely make a guide out on dressing that way later.

1. Match colors, but don't be afraid to throw in some accent detail colors! Usually when you think of fashion, you think of making everything match, however some things will go better with some contrast rather than plainly matching!

As long as it still has some similarity, it doesn't have to be the same.

The most basic rule you need to learn dressing as a man, is that you wear your belt to your shoes.

If your belt is brown, so should your shoes be.

If your belt is black, they should be black.

Usually most fashion rules can be broken, but this one seems to be very important, as it can throw off the whole appearance of an outfit to have mismatching shoes and belt.

2. Use what I call the finger trick.

When selecting a shirt, specifically a dress shirt, put your fingers in the collar between your neck and the collar.

If you can comfortably fit two or even maybe barely three fingers in there, then that's a perfect fit shirt around your neck.

If you can fit four or more fingers, it's loose and will make you look baggy and overweight.

If you can fit only one, or feel any pressure on your throat, you need a looser shirt because it's too tight.

3. Somewhat similar, but when buying pants, this may be the most important thing of all.

If you get the right set of pants, it can disguise even the biggest of curves.

You want to get what's known as a straight-leg jean pant, you can make it a cargo pant if you wish, either one looks very masculine and good.

I would usually recommend bootcut pants if you wear longer shoes, like boots, or combat boots, or anything you need to tuck the jeans into.

Always get pants that don't feel constricting, and always get them where they fit comfortably with a belt, but don't need a belt due to fitting good already.

But straight-leg type is so important to go for, it's one of the things that makes a boxy figure like a cis man's.

4. I'm not sure if this is obvious or may come as a surprise to some people, but even if you like dressing femininely, if you wish to pass, I would suggest always shopping in the men's section.

They have shirts and pants and everything else under the sun that shaped specifically for men's bodies, making yours look even more like a cis man's, which is very gender affirming. Also women's jeans are made to support the butt and make you look feminine and curvy, while men's are designed to be straight, boxy, and comfortable, usually with deep pockets too!

5. Similar to the matching rule before, you can match a busy pattern shirt with a plain pair of pants, or busy pattern and pants with a plain shirt. However if you put too many busy patterns, or too much plainness, either way makes you look not as good.

Try to balance the detail with the simplicity.

6. Overall the most masculine thing you can wear especially pre-t, is either a formal or casual suit.

You can even wear just a dress shirt with a tie or bow tie, with some dress shoes and pants, and you're good!

This just generally makes you look super masculine and it's hard to mistake.

7. if you're like me, where you like to dress flamboyantly, but you're also super dysphoric about it, wait until you get testosterone therapy.

If you end up having it and you start seeing positive effects before dressing femininely, it's great!

I did this and now I feel totally comfortable with it, as no one ever misunderstands me even if I wear the most feminine things ever.

So if you're going on t, feel free to dress more extravagantly during because you will pass even so!

8. Another way to check shirts that are long sleeved, particularly dress shirts, is to tuck it in like usual, and then lift up your arms really high like you're reaching for something.

If it untucks or lifts the fabric in an unflattering way where your armpits look huge, it's cut wrong and is not something you should buy.

9. This may be surprising to some, but yes, cis men will wear feminine designs on masculine outfits.

I can't count the number of times I've seen men wearing bright pink suits. Other times there's been crop tops, painted nails, hair done, everything.

So if you really like that button up with the flowers on it, but are feeling hesitant due to the feeling that people might judge you, don't worry!

Maybe some will, but a lot of people wear unique clothing, and no one will be as bad as what your thoughts say to you.

10. I have somewhat of a warning, as good and fun they are, t-shirts can be very revealing when it comes to showing your chest, even through your binder! Something about them isn't cut quite right, even if they come from the manliest man's site or store.

If you still wish to wear t-shirts like I do, I would recommend getting a short-sleeved or long-sleeved Dickies button up jacket/shirt that you wear open over it. Or any jacket thing, really. This covers your chest completely and negates that effect.

11. This is sort of more hygiene base but still has to do with getting dressed. Always use men's soap, and men's cologne, and men's essential oils, and men's lotion, if you have them.

Also use some aftershave, it's helpful if it has lotion mixed in and moisturizes as well.

You can even shave even if you're pre-t, due to it making a clean feeling due to there being no feminine peach fuzz on it. This can help support dysphoria relief, as well because it feels like you're shaving a beard, at least until it comes in.

When your moustache and beard do come in from testosterone, if you take it, make sure to oil it lightly with natural oils like argan oil or coconut oil, the stimulates hair growth and follicle health.

And I would recommend shaving just once as it starts developing, so it develops thicker, stronger, and more handsome.

12. If you're planning on going on t, buy at least some of your clothing a size or a few sizes up, or getting a duplicate that's larger.

You will grow, so if you buy all your clothing in a smaller size, you'll probably end up unable to use any of it.

13. Always position your belt buckle in the center of your stomach, the way you can tell if it's positioned right is if it lines up with the buttons of your button up perfectly.

14. When wearing a suit try to always keep the bottomless button unbuttoned. That button isn't actually there to be used, it's meant to be unbuttoned and it makes it look so much better.

The reason it looks so much better is because it makes it flattering and thinning. If you button all the buttons, it will make you look heavy due to it tightening around your waist and stomach.

15. You should always have at least two pairs of dress shoes. one pair that's black, and one pair that's brown. Same with belts. It's also recommended for summer that you keep one pair of masculine flip flops or sandals or sneakers around.

16. This is more of a suggestion than anything, however it's manly as fuck, and people love it.

If you carry a work knife, a pocket watch, a small portable multitool, and a handkerchief.

Possibly even a pen and small notepad with you at all times.

This may seem odd at first, but it's what men used to do constantly in the older days.

These items can come in very useful. A work knife can open packages, open letters, be used in place of scissors occasionally, and even used to defend yourself and others.

A pocket watch is just fancy and shows you're always trying to be on time.

A multi-tool shows you're ready for any task, and it can be a lifesaver in many situations!

Meanwhile a handkerchief is important, because if you ever come across someone crying, or someone wounded, you can lend them or give them your handkerchief, which is a very gentlemanly thing to do, and it can help you pass better, as well as it just being a kind thing to do for someone.

The pen and small notepad is always good to carry on you regardless of any gender, due to you needing to write things down often.

17. Ironically, although socks with sandals seems to be a fashion 'no-no' to most people, I quite like them, and it seems like I pass better with them.

Men tend to wear those slip-on flip flop things, and when you wear socks with it it makes you look very masculine, even if it may look silly to some.

Personally I like it a lot.

18. If you do wish to do makeup & nails, I would suggest doing it as black and gothic as possible, as that's the most common style guys do it as, and if you do it in a certain way, it can come out looking way masculine.

And that concludes my fifth part of this Trans Guy Tips series!

Thank you for reading, and I hope anything I said helped!

359 notes · View notes

mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years

Text

falling | jj maybank x reader

summary: jj never meant to fall in love with you, it just happened

warnings: cursing, drug use (weed), little angsty, SOFT JJ, fluff, fluff, fluff

a/n: thank you for this amazing request sweet anon! i hope you enjoy it!

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

6.5k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

Rain is something that every Kildare resident has become accustomed to. The rainy summer months were simply a nuisance to everyone who lived in the OBX.

You couldn't quite understand the contempt the people of this town had for the bad weather. To you, the rain was refreshingly familiar. It reminds you of splashing in the puddles with your older brother and being playfully scolded by your mother for tracking mud into the house. The rain is your childhood.

When you spot the dark clouds on your way out of the house that morning, your mood becomes instantly brighter. You play upbeat music as you walk to visit your dad at work.

Your father is the manager of Kildare’s finest Resort and Spa so you practically grew up there. Making friends has never come easily for you and so some of your finest childhood memories were made running through the grass fields in the courtyard and being the honorary taste tester for the kitchen staff.

The rain gives you an extra skip in your step and you rush through helping your dad with some of his paperwork so you can get back outside quicker.

Not every Kildare native has the same mindset that you do. To JJ Maybank, the rain is a reminder of the days he was forced to stay inside with his father. The cracking thunder reminds him of being hidden under his bedsheets in fear, with no one to comfort him.

The blonde’s fingers quickly fumble to punch in the well-known number of his best friend. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, until the crackly sound of John B’s voicemail box fills his ears. He tries Kiara and even Pope, before ultimately giving up.

The one day his bike is in the shop, it rains and none of his friends answer their phones.

Despite every instinct he has, JJ knows he has no choice but to walk home in the rain. His clothes are already sopping wet against his skin even after a brief minute of standing under the downpour.

He shivers, arms wrapping around his body as he prepares himself to make the journey home.

Before JJ can even take one step forward, a bright yellow blob moves towards him, catching his attention. The blob slowly morphs into a figure as it approaches.

“Hello,” a sweet feminine voice calls out to him. JJ’s brows instantly furrow at the sight of the teen girl in the bright yellow raincoat, holding an equally bright, yellow umbrella.

“Um, hi?” he replies over the sound of the rain, his voice coming out in more of a questioning tone.

You quickly move your hand so that your small umbrella is covering both of your heads.

“Thanks,” JJ mutters, still confused. You offer him a sweet smile. He takes the moment to scan your face. You're easily one of the most gorgeous girls he's ever seen and he wonders how he's gone this long without noticing you.

“You looked like you needed it more than me,” you explain with a shrug, eyes falling away from JJ’s piercing blue ones. “Where are you headed? I didn't drive here but I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind if I borrowed his car to take you home.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh, um, your Mr. (Y/L/N)’s daughter right?” You reply with a simple nod. “It's fine, I'll just walk.”

Your lips pull down into a sudden frown and JJ has an intense urge to make you smile again. “It would be much faster for me to drive you,” you urge, “Plus, if you walk home without an umbrella, you'll definitely catch a cold.”

JJ can't help but smile softly at your kindness which you eagerly return with one of your own. “How ‘bout you just let me borrow your umbrella then?” he asks jokingly.

“Well that would work, but this is my favorite umbrella.” This is a lie. You have two other umbrellas just like it at home.

“Well I guess you'll just have to give me a ride home then,” JJ gives in.

Your smile grows as you link your arm with the blondes and pull him to your dad's fancy sports car. JJ gives you directions back to the Chateau and you oblige.

The two of you make conversation for almost the entire drive, only breaking when you stop to turn up a song you like. JJ is pleasantly surprised when you never mention the length of the drive or the rundown houses you pass.

A few minutes later, You pull up to the chateau, putting the car in park. The car goes quiet besides the sound of rain hitting the rooftop.

JJ looks over at you with a soft smile. “Thank you, really, for the ride,” he tells you genuinely as he gathers his things.

“Any time, Maybank.”

Over the next two weeks, you start to spend a little more time at the hotel, bumping into JJ anytime the opportunity arises. The blonde is used to eating his lunch on his own in the back room, but when you ask if he'll join you for lunch on the golf course, he can't possibly say no.

“So then my friend John B had to practically drag me out of the water,” JJ says, continuing his story about getting stung by a jellyfish. “I couldn't walk for three straight days.” His words are muffled by the bite of the sandwich he has in his mouth causing you to giggle. JJ smiles at the sound, wanting nothing more than to make you laugh like that again.

“You know I've always wanted to learn how to surf,” you tell him, causing his eyes to widen. “But after your stories, I might not,” you add with a laugh.

“You've never been surfing,” the blonde asks in disbelief to which you respond with a head shake. “How long have you lived here?”

You smile. “All my life.”

“You've lived here all your life and you've never been surfing?”

“I've been paddleboarding,” you offer with a sheepish smile.

JJ chuckles slightly at your lame joke, but mostly at how adorable you are. “Come surfing with me tomorrow,” he says, softly grabbing your hand in his causing you to blush hard.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I have the day off and my friends and I were planning to go anyway.”

Your eyes widen and you gulp slightly. “Your friends are going to be there,” you ask warily.

JJ nods in confusion. “Yeah my friends will be there, unless,” a look of realization sweeps over his face, “Oh. You don't want to go with my friends.” His hand drops yours onto the blanket you brought.

“No,” you tell him earnestly, grabbing his hand back. “It's not that I don't want to go with them, it's that I don't think they will want me there.” JJ looks at you in confusion. “You and your friends are the most looked up to friend group on this island. It's an unspoken thing that everyone wants to be you guys. I just don't think they'll want me butting into your group.”

JJ frowns. Is that really what you think of yourself? The blonde has only known you for a few weeks, but at that time he's decided that you are the kindest, most selfless person on this island. Why you are unable to see that, is beyond him.

It's the first moment in JJ’s life that he has the sudden urge to kiss you. But he can't, he knows that. He knows it won't be the last time he gets this feeling (not with your perfect pouty lips and kind heart around him all the time), but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind for now.

“(Y/N),” he says, drawing your attention back up to his eyes. “Trust me, they'll love you.” What's not to love? But he doesn't say that last part out loud.

JJ doesn't know it, but this moment is also the first time you have the urge to kiss him. The urge to wrap your hands around his neck and pull his lips to meet yours. Your heart rate increases rapidly and you push the thought aside as well.

With promises of meeting the next day, you bid JJ goodbye, the butterflies in your stomach not diminishing until the blonde is out of your sight.

The next afternoon you spend thirty minutes trying on all of your bikinis. You want more than anything to have a good impression on JJ’s friends.

You are slipping a pale green tank top over your bikini as the doorbell echos through your house. “I'll get it,” you tell out, hoping no one gets to the door first.

Grabbing the rest of your things and shoving them into your tote bag, you quickly run downstairs. When you make it to the door you spot your older brother Sam reaching to open it.

“Sam wait,” you yell, rushing to open the door first. You pull the handle revealing JJ. He's dressed in a pair of grey cargo shorts, a worn black tank top, and his infamous red snapback. “Hey,” you say with a smile.

“Hey.”

“(Y/N), where are you going,” Sam asks from behind you. You turn around to see your brother giving you a look that resembles that of a worried parent.

“I'm going surfing with JJ and his friends,” you tell him quickly. JJ waves at your brother, slightly intimidated by the tall boy.

Sam looks over your shoulder at JJ before snapping his eyes back to you. “Did you tell mom and dad about this?”

You roll your eyes lightly. “I'm not ten, Sam,” you say sarcastically. “I don't have to get permission every time I leave the house.”

Sam’s eyes move back to JJ, only to see that the blue-eyed boy is already looking at you. “Keep her safe, will you?” he asks with a sigh.

JJ looks at your brother. “Of course,” he promises.

You smile, kissing your brother on the cheek. “Love you, Sam.”

He responds with the same and the two of you are quickly moving off your front porch and towards the street.

JJ watches your expression as you approach the pogue van, expecting some sort of disgust of their old vehicle.

He opens the passenger door for you, making you blush hard, before moving to the driver's seat. “Sorry it's not the nicest car,” he says as the van sputters to life, slightly cringing at the sound of the old engine.

“What are you talking about,” you say with an honest smile, “This is literally the coolest car ever.” You stick your hand out the window letting the wind hit it as giggles escape from your mouth.

JJ’s lips stretch into a wide smile at the sight.

The two of you laugh and sing along to whatever song comes on the radio. It's just like the night you drove him home from the hotel except now, the sun is shining bright above you.

When JJ pulls the van up to the front of the run down Chateau, you feel your palms begin to sweat. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask the boy next to you, not taking your eyes off the front porch.

JJ smiles. “They're gonna love you,” he says confidently, “Now come on before I die of heatstroke.” He hops out of the car, running around to your side and helping you out.

You chew your lips nervously as the two of you walk up the steps and across the front porch.

“We're here,” JJ announces as he opens the door for you.

The first thing you notice when you enter the little house is the pungent smell of weed. Despite not smoking yourself, you don't mind the scent. The second thing you notice is the three teenagers sitting on a worn couch.

A girl with curly brown hair throws her hands up into the air. “JJ’s brought a girl home,” she exclaims with a chuckle.

The blonde beside you rolls his eyes. “Shut up Kie.”

The girl who you assume is Kiara, stands up, and runs over to you. Much to your surprise, she pulls you into a tight hug. You stand there in confusion for a second before hugging her back. “I'm Kiara, but you can call me Kie,” she says, pulling away. “Those two dumbasses are John B and Pope,” Kie tells you, pointing to the two boys still sitting on the couch. They lift their chins in a greeting.

“So are you guys ready,” JJ asks, breaking the tension.

The boys stand up and the five of you walk outside before piling into the van. John B and Kiara sit in the front and JJ, Pope, and you in the back.

“JB, where's Sarah,” Pope asks.

“Couldn't make it,” John B replies, “Said she had family stuff.”

“John B, you're dating Sarah Cameron, right?” you ask sweetly.

John B nods. “Yeah, you know her?”

“Not really, we had English together last year,” you say, watching as the brunette boy’s expression remains stoic. “I don't know if she'll like me though. I kind of punched her brother in third grade for making fun of my friend's dress.”

The whole group laughs loudly and you blush hard, not meaning for that to slip out. JJ uses the moment to wrap his arms discreetly across your shoulders.

“I think she'll definitely like you then,” John B says. “That's badass.”

A few minutes later, the van pulls up to a secluded spot on the beach.

“Wow, it's beautiful here,” you say in awe.

JJ nods as he and Kie take the surfboards down from the roof of the van. “This is our secret pogue spot.”

“Oh,” you say looking down, feeling out of place.

Pope hands you one of the boards. “You're basically an honorary pogue if we bring you here,” he says with a kind smile. “Think of this as your initiation.”

You smile back, relieved that JJ’s friends aren't annoyed by your presence. JJ tries to hide a smile of his own, loving that you are getting along with his friends considering they're the only family he has.

The five of you walk down to the beach, finding a good spot to lay down your stuff.

JJ can't take his eyes off of you as you slip your tank top over your head. His little heart can't handle how gorgeous you are. You're wearing a small blue and white floral bikini, leaving little to the imagination.

“You okay, Maybank?” you ask, snapping him out of his trance. He nods dumbly, making you chuckle. “C’mon,” you say, grabbing your board in one hand and holding the other out to the blonde.

This sets him into motion and he quickly grabs his own board and links his fingers with yours. He has to remind himself to take in this moment, wanting to remember the first time you ever held his hand.

“So how do I do this,” you ask once you have paddled out into the water.

JJ nods. “Normally I would have you do some exercises on land first, but I say you just go for it,” he says, floating on the board next to you.

“Great plan, Maybank,” you say with a slight eye roll. “If I die it's on you.”

JJ laughs. “You're not gonna die, (Y/N),” he tells you. “The waves are small today anyways.”

He explains the basics of how and where to stand before demonstrating on a wave. You admire how his tan body moves gracefully on the board. He makes it look so easy and you smile at the look of concentration he has.

JJ ladles back out to where you are when he is done. “Maybank,” you exclaim. “That was amazing.”

JJ smiles wide. “Now it's your turn.”

You grimace. “It's not gonna look like that.”

“Don't worry, that took years of practice,” he encourages before pointing behind you. “Look, there's a perfect wave coming.”

You look at the wave, gulping in anticipation. “Wish me luck.”

“You got this,” he yells making you laugh. Your heart pounds in your chest as you line yourself up the way JJ had. When the wave comes toward you, you attempt to put your foot where JJ told you. Instead, you miss and fall into the water before you even have the chance to stand.

JJ’s heart drops the moment your head disappears under the water. The waves weren't too big and the current shouldn't be strong at this time of day, but he couldn't help the sick feeling he got watching you fall.

The moment your head pops up out of the water he breathes a sigh of relief. The sound of your laughter is enough to calm his anxieties.

You slide back on your board, paddling back over to JJ. “Well that was embarrassing,” you say with a giggle.

JJ smiles with a small shake of his head. “No one gets it on their first try,” he reassures her. “If you stood up just now I would have sent you straight to a surfing competition.”

A few more tries (and fails) later you notice the sun starting to set over the horizon.

“You ready to go back in,” JJ asks from his board next to you.

You shake your head. “I want to give it one more go,” you tell him. “But you go in and watch from the beach.”

The blonde frowns. “Are you sure?”

“I'll be fine, Maybank,” you say with a small smile. “Plus, then you can watch me better when I shred some waves,” you add in a mock surfer voice.

JJ gives you a slight eye roll before making his way to shore. He meets up with the rest of the pogues who are coming back from up the beach where they had found some bigger waves.

“Getting bored of teaching the newbie,” John B asks when he sees JJ.

JJ gently shoves the boy. “No,” the blonde replies plainly. “She just wanted to give it one last try before we head in.”

The four of them watch from the sand as you make your way towards an upcoming wave.

“I bet you five bucks she doesn't even stand,” John B whispers to Pope.

“Hey,” JJ snaps, turning to look at his two friends. “What are you two idiots doing.”

“Definitely not betting on your girlfriend,” Pope says, sarcasm laced in his voice.

JJ blushes at the word 'girlfriend’. “She's not my girlfriend.”

Even Kie rolls her eyes at this. “Yeah, okay.”

They go silent as you get closer to the wave, watching as you paddle along it. In one graceful motion, you position your feet, straightening your legs until you are standing.

The four pogues cheer as you ride the wave. It's definitely not perfect, but JJ couldn't be more proud.

You ride the wave in, throwing your board on the sand as you run-up to the group. “I did it guys,” you exclaim happily.

Running up to JJ, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, practically jumping into his arms. He catches you easily, spinning you around in excitement.

The blonde puts you down after a minute, reluctant to let go of you. You look up into his eyes, feeling the tension grow.

“You did awesome, girly,” Kie says, drawing your attention away from JJ.

He smiles as he watches you interact with his friends. At that exact moment, his heart feels so full, but he can't explain it.

After everyone is done congratulating you, the six of you gather your things before piling into the van. You tell jokes and chat on the way back to your house.

You give JJ a soft kiss on the cheek before bidding everyone else goodbye. Despite rolling his eyes when his three best friends make fun of him for it, having your lips on his cheek is the last thing he thinks about before drifting off to sleep that night.

Yes, he's definitely falling for you.

Over the next few weeks, you grew closer and closer with the pogues. A few days after your surfing adventure you met Sarah Cameron for the first time, and after that, you were basically a pogue yourself.

When you invited JJ over for dinner at your house, the blonde assumed your parents would hate him like every other kook family. However, your parents and brother treated him with nothing but kindness and respect (how could they not after all the stories you have told them).

Looking back, that was the night you knew you were in love with JJ. Watching him laugh and have meaningful conversations with your family made you fall even harder for him.

Tonight, almost five months after you first met JJ on that rainy night, you are lounging on the floor of John B’s living room cracking jokes with your friends.

You told your parents you were spending the night at Kiara’s, knowing that they would ask fewer questions.

“Kie, pass me the blunt, would you,” John B asks from his spot next to Sarah.

You are sitting next to JJ, your legs stretched across his and your back pressed against the couch. Your eyes watch as John B places the blunt to his lips, inhaling the vapor.

The brunette lifts an eyebrow. “You wanna hit, (Y/N),” John B asks, holding the blunt out with two fingers.

Before you can even open your mouth, the blonde beside you speaks up. “She doesn't smoke JB,” he says annoyed at his best friend for even asking.

You look at him confidently. “Actually, I think I'd like to try,” you say, causing everyone to look at you in shock.

“You sure?” JJ asks softly from next to you. You nod and John B passes you the blunt.

Placing it in between your lips, you inhale like you had seen John B do earlier. Only, when you do it, it sends you into a coughing fit.

JJ rubs your back with a slight eye roll. “Atta girl,” he says with a small chuckle.

It doesn't take long for you to be high out of your mind. You're a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and you probably should have guessed you would be a lightweight when it came to weed too.

At some point in the night, you find yourself sprawled out on one of the hammocks outside in a large, ratty t-shirt you assume belongs to JJ. The stars spin above you and you giggle.

“(Y/N)?” you hear the voice of the boy you're madly in love with, approach.

“Maybank,” you cheer when he finds you on the hammock. He gestured for you to move over and once you do so he plops down next to you.

You're instantly pulled into JJ’s toned chest and you let your head rest easily on his shoulder.

“Is everyone else asleep?” you attempt to whisper, but it comes out louder than you had anticipated.

JJ’s hands find your hair and begin to play with it lightly. “Mhm.”

“So it's just me and you?” you ask sweetly, words slightly slurred from the weed in your system.

He hopes you can't hear how fast his heart is beating from having you this close. “Just you and me.”

“JJ can I ask you a question,” you mumble, the weed making you only slightly more confident.

“F’course,” JJ tells you.

You use your fingers to trace lazy patterns on his bare chest. “How come you never call me any nicknames,” you ask with a pout. “Like I call you ‘Maybank’, y’know and you have a nickname for every one of our friends except me.”

JJ doesn't answer right away and even your wasted mind thinks that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to ask.

“Because I like your name,” he finally says after a while.

A small “oh” is all you can muster, so the blonde boy continues. “I like saying your name. It's really pretty and I like the way it sounds,” he tries to explain, slightly cringing at his words.

“I like you,” you blurt, but it comes out in a slow drawl.

“What,” JJ asks quickly, eyes widening in shock. When you don't reply, he looks down at you only to find you fast asleep on his chest.

His brain is going a mile a minute trying to comprehend what you said. You must've meant it in a friendly way because there's no way someone like you would like a guy like him. Right?

The blonde lays there for hours, unable to sleep with your words on his mind (and your head over his heart). Finally, he coaxes himself to sleep with the thought that you were high out of your mind and didn't mean anything you said.

The next morning you wake up alone in the bed of John B’s guest room. You have no idea how you got there and have little recollection of the previous night.

You stumble out of the small room with a headache and feeling slightly nauseous.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Sarah says with a smile when you appear in the kitchen.

You look around the room, noticing that you were the last one awake. “What happened last night,” you groan, plopping down in the seat between Kiara and JJ

“Well,” Pope says with a smirk. “You had your first official experience with weed.”

You groan again, laying your head in your arms which are folded on the table. You feel a familiar hand rest on your back and you turn your head to look at JJ. He smiles at you and a sea of butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, sitting up. JJ pouts at your words and you giggle, leaning over to give him a small kiss on the cheek which unbeknownst to you, makes his stomach fill with butterflies too.

You bid goodbye to the rest of your friends, before stumbling out of the chateau and to your car.

JJ’s eyes follow your body until it is completely out of sight. When he finally sees your car pulling out of the driveway, he looks back to his friends only to find all of them staring at him. “What?”

“Just tell her you love her already,” Kiara says with a dramatic groan causing JJ’s eyes to widen.

John B nods. “Seriously, dude,” he says, “You gotta do it before she gets tired of waiting.”

“What are you guys talking about,” JJ asks innocently despite knowing exactly what his friends are talking about.

“The two of you are madly in love with each other so what are you doing wasting this time you could be spending together,” Sarah reasons.

JJ knows his friends are right, but he doesn't need them breathing down his neck when he does decide to tell you.

You, on the other hand, realized a few seconds into your drive that you forgot your phone. You had turned around and were now making your way back up the porch steps.

“I do not like (Y/N),” lies through his teeth, having no idea that you could hear him clearly through the mesh screen door. “She's just a spoiled, kook, brat that I happened to take pity on. She means nothing to me.”

Each word that passes from JJ’s lips is like a knife to your heart. Completely forgetting your phone, you don't waste any time running back to your car. Hot tears stream down your face at a steady rate as you attempt to get as far away as possible from the boy who broke your heart.

“Okay keep telling yourself that,” John B says to JJ with a small smirk on his lips.

JJ rolls his eyes, but on the inside, he is longing for your sweet lips to press to his cheek again. The dense blonde has no idea that the girl he loves with his whole heart, is currently broken because of him.

Over the next few days, you make every excuse in the book not to see the pogues, knowing that even being in the same room as JJ would be too much.

When Kiara brings by your phone from the Chateau, you immediately break down and tell her what you witnessed. The curly-haired girl wants to tell you the whole truth, but she figures it should come from the idiotic blonde himself.

After three days of not hearing from you, JJ’s worry starts to eat him alive. What if you were sick? Or sad? Or what if you finally realized you were too good for him?

Despite the drizzling rain, JJ takes his bike and makes his way to your house as quickly as he can.

When he knocks on your large oak door and your brother opens it, JJ is immediately brought back to the first day he came to your house. He remembers the pride he felt when you first stood up on that board.

“Hey, Sam. Is (Y/N) here?” he asks, peaking around your brother's shoulder as if you would be standing there like you were that one day.

“No,” Sam says harshly, immediately slamming the door shut in JJ’s face.

The blonde is left there in confusion wondering what is wrong. He knocks on the door again, louder this time.

Sam opens the door again. “What?” he snaps.

“I know she's here,” JJ explains seriously. “I can see her bedroom light from her window and she never leaves her light on.”

Your brother scowls at JJ’s words as if it's an abomination that he knows such an intimate fact about you.

“Leave, JJ,” Sam says, slightly calmer now. “She doesn't want to see you.” He shuts the door again, causing JJ’s heart to break slightly.

What does he mean you don't want to see him?

The blonde steps away from your front door and moves under your bedroom window. The rain is falling much harder now, causing JJ’s curls to plaster to his forehead.

He glances up at your window, suddenly having an idea. It takes him a few tries, but JJ is able to scale your house and make it to your small balcony.

He peers into your room, spotting you laying on your bed, with your back facing him. JJ knocks lightly on your window and you snap your head in his direction.

Your eyes widen when you see his sopping wet form and for a second you forget why you're laying alone in the first place. You rush to the window, undoing the hinges and pulling JJ inside.

Once the blonde is standing in front of you, his words from the other night come rushing back.

“What are you doing here, JJ,” you ask with a small sigh, wrapping your hoodie-clad arms around your stomach.

The blonde frowns. “You called me JJ.”

“That's your name isn't it?”

“Yeah, but yo-you never,” JJ stumbles over his words. “Are you okay? Why haven't you been answering my texts or calls?”

“I was busy,” you say with a shrug, sitting back onto your bed.

“You know you can talk to me, right,” JJ asks as he takes a small step closer to you. “I'll always be here for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay,” you mumble sarcastically.

JJ flinches back. “What's going on (Y/N)? You're not being yourself. You are always there for me and my problems, so you should know that I'll always be here for you and whatever it is you're going through,” he tells you honestly.

“Oh yeah because you took pity on me, right?” you snap, looking him dead in the eyes as a few tears fall down your cheeks. A look of confusion spreads across his features. “Because I'm a ‘spoiled, kook, brat’ right?”

JJ's heart drops to the pit of his stomach as he realizes what you are talking about. His eyes well with tears knowing why you've been hurting the past few days.

“(Y/N),” he all but whimpers. His hands reach out for you but you pull back.“Please, let me explain.”

You harshly wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I think you made yourself very clear the other day. Leave, JJ,” you tell him.

JJ shakes his head as panic builds in his chest. He struggles to breathe as he realizes that he is about to lose you before he even truly has you.

His breathing becomes more and more erratic and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“JJ,” you ask softly, noticing the arising panic attack. The blonde looks up at you, fear evident in his eyes. Despite the pain, he put you through, you still love him and can't stand to see him in pain. “C'mere JJ,” you say softly, pulling him to sit on your bed. You crouch down below him, shushing him softly.

“You gotta breathe with me,” you tell him, making sure he's watching as you take a few big breaths in. He is able to take a few shaky breaths and soon his heart rate has slowed to a somewhat normal rate, JJ collapses into your arms. “You're okay. It's gonna be okay.”

JJ frowns, pulling away from you slightly. “Why are you being so nice to me,” he asks shakily. “After everything I've done?”

You shrug, looking down.

He uses two of his fingers to gently lift your chin so you are looking at him. “Please let me explain,” he whispers and you nod slightly. “After you left that day, the pogues were messing with me, saying that I was so in love with you n ’shit, so I had to say something that would get them to shut up,” he says quickly, wanting to get through his story so you will stop hurting.

“Nothing I said that day was remotely close to the truth. You are the most kind-hearted person on this island, and for me to even say that you aren't, it's just, I'm so sorry,” he says. “I never meant to hurt you, but I couldn't have the pogues thinking I was in love with you.”

Your heart falls at his words. “Because that would be embarrassing, right?” you say, trying to hide the dejection you are feeling.

“No.” You look up at him in confusion. “Because I didn't want you to find out before I got the courage to tell you myself.”

“What?”

“I'm in love with you (Y/N),” he says with a small smile on his face. “I have completely fallen for you. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you are. You’re my first thought in the morning, you’re my last thought before I fall asleep, and you're almost every thought in between.”

The room goes silent and the only sound that can be heard is the rain softly hitting your window.

“Now is where you say something,” he says with an awkward chuckle.

You open your mouth to speak, but everything you want to say to the boy in front of you is stuck in your throat. “I-” you manage to sutter out.

JJ sighs. “It’s okay,” he says standing up, leaving you to fall limply against your bed. “I figured this would happen. You don’t have to say anything.”

When he moves towards your window, your body seems to catch up with your brain and you run to stop him. JJ turns around, but before he can get a word out, you press your lips to his.

You swear you see sparks fly behind your eyes the moment your lips meet his. The kiss starts softly at first and then builds with an intensity that has you gripping his shoulders for balance. This kicks the blonde into motion. He places one hand softly on your cheek and uses the other to tug your waist closer to him.

The intoxicating taste of weed and mint lulls you closer as your lips move together perfectly. Neither of you ever want to stop. Moving your right hand to lace your fingers in his hair, you tug slightly, causing him to let out a small groan. You smile into the kiss before reluctantly pulling yourself away.

“That was…” JJ trails off breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you agree with a chuckle. “Look, when I first met you, I never would have imagined that I would have such strong feelings for you. I never would have thought that I would miss being by your side, or get butterflies in my stomach when someone mentions your name. When I first met you, I never would’ve thought that I would love you the way I do.”

Tears brim JJ’s eyes as your words fill his heart. “So, you…”

“I love you, Maybank,” you say, not looking away from his eyes.

“Say it again,” he asks in a small voice, eyes wide like he can’t believe the words you are actually saying.

You smile wide. “I love you, so much.”

JJ pulls your body tight to his chest and buries his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you more than anything,” he mumbles into your neck. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say.”

You chuckle, lifting his head off your shoulder and cupping his cheeks with your hands. You place a few soft kisses to his pouty lips causing him to smile wide. “I forgive you, but only because you're cute,” you tell him.

He blushes slightly, leaning down to kiss both of your cheeks and then your lips. Both of you have big smiles on your face when you pull away. “How have I gone this long without kissing you,” JJ says causing you to giggle. He uses the pads of his thumbs to trace your cheekbones. “You’re so beautiful,” the blonde whispers, voice laced with sincerity.

You blush hard and nuzzle your face into his chest. After a second you look back up at him. “Stay the night?” you ask.

JJ nods. “Of course, my love.”

Smiling at the name you pull him towards your closet. “I thought you didn't give me nicknames,” you tease and he shrugs his shoulders.

“That was before,” he says with a smile.

You hum in response, handing him some of his clothes that either he had left at your house or you had stolen from the Chateau. Once he is changed out of his wet clothes, the two of you climb into your bed.

JJ instantly pulls you snug to his chest and you get comfortable and he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

Both of you know that everything will change after today. Everything is different now, but for some reason, it feels normal to the two of you. It feels like this was how it was meant to be. Just you and JJ, together.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Maybank.”

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

masterlist

1K notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 4 years

Text

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: ahhhhh holy holy heck this chapter is SO DAMN EXCITING hehehe I had sosososo much writing and doing all the research!! please let me know if there is anything factual/cultural that I need to fix! I tried the best I could although I most def am not an expert in Egyptian culture so I appreciate it a lot :) hehe i hope ya have fun reading this chapter teehee oh! also I love hearing what you thought of it too! :D

Four

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, several mentions of food and alcohol as well as getting tipsy/drunk that good, good making out, suggestive themes

CWs: mentions of guns, mentions of knives, themes of jealousy (expressed by the reader)

Word count: 7.5k

Parts

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

“Well, we’re in Cairo alright.”

Two tugged the amazed young stow-away-student, Seungmin, by the hand of his backpack to keep him from running into one of the palm tree planters decorating the terminal. The young man had nearly slept the whole flight due to the length as well as the exasperation that he had just been through. While his eyes were still darkened from his nap, his glossy pupils still wondered all around him.

“I take it back. I’m so glad that I almost died so I could end up here with you guys.”

Jeongin slapped him from the backside of his head. “Never be thankful for almost dying. Life is a lot more fucking fragile than you think. This isn’t just some joyride--”

“--Ease up F.” You interrupted your partner as you shouldered your bag. The kid had already been through enough already: he didn’t need accosting on top of it all.

The dashing prince sighed out and stretched his arms. “Ahhhh Cairo. It’s been a while; too long actually.”

The airport was humid: the kind of sticky warmth that dripped down your neck in a matter of seconds to then get caught above your lip. It wasn’t much help to the anxiety that already had seeped into your veins. The closer you got to a gun the more comfortable you would be. You and the other two guards created a formation around the prince with two in the front and the other in the flank. While each of you were dressed in regular street clothes, your responsibility of his detail still hung over your head with a severe air.

Chan threw his arm over the young student with an obscene grin. His hair had become a little disheveled from the plane seat and his hoodie, but he didn’t appear to mind. Seeing him so normal was somewhat of an odd change to your previous unbreakable impression of him.

“Seungmin my friend, you’ve never lived until you’ve been to Cairo. I’ve never seen another place so enriched in history in my whole life...it puts my kingdom to shame. It’s almost like...you can just feel the time here: hundreds of thousands of years...beauty, art, food, industry...I’ve got a thing or two to learn.”

Seungmin nodded at the prince’s grandiose gestures in the terminal with an enamored smile. “I can’t wait to see it!”

Your partner put a firm hand on the prince’s back to guide him to the baggage claim. “We won’t be here for long, so, don’t get too excited. We’ve come here for one reason and we shouldn’t dally otherwise.”

The young boy appeared to frown, and Two bit his lip with a little chuckle. “Way to crush the kids dreams F.”

“You know the mission, J.” Jeongin gritted his teeth with the words. “Everything is set, there will be a car waiting for us in the garage, and at the hotel we’ll have anything we need.”

Prince Chan lulled his head back with heels clicking on the flooring. Rogue strands of his hair hung over his sunglasses where he threw a look back at you while pulling them down.

“Don’t forget our little deal Bee? We’ll have time for a little pleasure.”

The white haired agent rolled his eyes with gusto then adjusted the royal’s glasses over his face. “We’ve still got to be careful, you Highness. We never know where they could have eyes.”

“I know where I’ve got mine...” He turned back once more to throw his cockiness in your general direction.

“Listen to F, your Highness...if you want to live.”

“Oooo. Feisty as ever, Bee. I love it when you bite back.” Chan turned to his new pet, Seungmin, “She’s really something isn’t she?”

The young man nodded, but not necessarily because he agreed, but it just seemed like it better to agree with a prince than to disagree with him.

The air appeared to turn even thicker in the summery and arid city and your group approached the parking lot half shaded. Outside of the cement lot, iridescent waves of heat wiggled on the horizon, and further, the astonishing urban sprawl of Cairo, and just over it, the stretch of the Nile and Giza. Palms and other varieties of plants spotted the landscape and above it all, a perfectly crystal blue sky streaked with thin clouds. Had the circumstances been different, you really would have wished to have been there for pleasure.

“This one. Right here.” Jeongin announced upon spotting the black armored sedan. It wasn’t the most inconspicuous vehicle, but you were prioritizing safety over aesthetics. Your partner touched his index fingerprint to the car door’s invisible panel, and it flashed blue just as the lock had at the safehouse with the ticking clock insignia.

Two whipped his head around to make one last check of the surroundings before taking off his sunglasses and reddened eye. “Get in. Both of you.” He urged the prince and the student. He popped the drivers side open to find a different pair of glasses in the storage compartment: gold framed aviators.

“Huh,” He said happily while putting them on. “This is more my style.” He rummaged around a bit more to find a new pair of black framed glasses there too. “Fox! Think fast!” He threw them over to your partner who sighed out with relief.

“Thank god.”

The trunk opened with a mechanical sounding creek, and you lifted up the trunk bed to find your whole arsenal: Heckler & Koch MP5′s submachines, Remington 870 shotguns, and Glocks complete with thigh holsters. Among the pile of metal, various knives and other weapons were held in foam holders.

“They’ve got knives back there?” Two asked while pulling the rearview mirror to see.

“Oh yeah. What? You more of a knife guy?” You teased while looping your thigh holster over your cargo pants. It fit just right.

The illusive man popped his gum with a shiny smile. “‘Don’t ever have to reload them...that’s what I’m saying.”

“Thank you Carroll.” Jeongin sighed upon seeing the thick laptop among the weapons. “Finally I can do some real work. That kid’s damn Chromebook was killing me. I nearly short circuited it trying to connect to our network.”

“You what?!” Seungmin was suddenly much more interested.

“Dont worry yourself too much, its still fine.”

“Are there cameras in here?” You quickly asked your partner.

“Agency should’ve fried them a long time ago. Why?”

From the trunk bed you sized up the Glock to feel its weight and how cool it settled into your sweating hand. You unloaded the magazine to see that it had already been filled.

“Carroll. She really is too kind to us.” You slid the magazine back in then, pulled back the slider to lock it once more, catching Chan’s adoring glance.

“Something interesting pretty boy?”

The prince appeared to shiver a little, but brushed it off sighing, “Oh, nothing.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Either it was Carroll or the King, but someone had spared no expense on the young prince. The sun set upon the sparking Nile where you had arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel Cairo at Nile Plaza.

Anything for His Royal Highness The Prince.

The towering and gleaming building was a sight to behold in and of itself. It was nestled right into the riverside anchored with several leisurely sailboats bopping in the evening breeze. As day crept into night, the city grew with a swell of lights washing as far as you could see. Extensive bridges and roadways glowed with headlights and every building appeared to be illuminated along with more boats strolling down the river in a rainbow of colors and music.

The prince craned his head as close to the window as he could and rubbed together his hands excitedly. He looked from you to your partners, finally making a disapproving scoff.

“Come on. You’re not just a little excited to be here?”

“We’re here on business, how many times do we have to explain?” Jeongin typed away at his computer from the front seat.

“Bee?” He looked back to you with a hopeful little glint to his eye.

“Like Fox said...tomorrow is our appointment with White Rabbit, then we’re on the first flight back home for you.”

The young prince frowned, but this quickly faded once he had seen the golden brass doors to the magnificent hotel. Seeing the state that the four of you were in, it was a bit comical that you had rolled up to a place such as this. Immediately a valet and bellhop jogged up to the car wearing perfectly pressed uniforms and spotless shined shoes. Little did they know you had no belongings to your name...the rest was waiting in your suite: the royal kind.

Seungmin cranked his neck to take in the scale of the building in all of it’s regal glory and let out an airy laugh his with his backpack straps snapped tight.

“Holy shit.” He exclaimed with a giant smile

Two rose a “no thank you” hand to the valet, and asked him where the garage was in perfect Arabic. The gesture surprised you...as many things did with that man. Jeongin gave a little nod in appreciation to the bellhop and expressed with his own broken version of Arabic that you group had no luggage. The young man was confused, but still gladly took the bills that Jeongin had slipped into his hand for the inconvenience.

“We’re staying here?” Seungmin wondered while he followed you in.

“When you travel with The Prince, it comes with some perks.” Chan tore off his glasses with a particularly prideful grin.

“I feel like I need to pay for just...breathing in here.”

Indeed, it was a luxurious and grand place. The atrium was patterned with various plush lounge chairs and benches and the path was made of emerald green marble tiles with swirling designs of beige loops. Thick, round columns also supported the ceilings in the lobby, and crystal glass chandeliers sparkled. On several tables, massive floral arrangements had been freshly placed, and you wondered how much the hotel must've paid for them to look that good just to have them replaced the next day.

A couple formalities were exchanged with the worker at the front desk, and soon the keycards to the royal suite were placed into your hands. Seungmin held his piece of plastic as if it were a gold bar in his hands whereas Chan shoved it right into his front pocket.

“Everything that we should need should be up in the room.” You told the group who were too distracted to hear what you had just said.

Just before you had entered the elevator, a tug at your sleeve stopped you in your tracks. Jeongin pulled you back, nodding at Two to go with the others up first.

“Remember what we talked about before?” He muttered in the hollow and stone corridor. “About the prince?”

“I need to stay beside him?”

Your partner nodded with a furrowing brow. “We’re out in the open here, it’s a big city...anyone could be watching us. No distractions, no messing around, no anything. We see White Rabbit and we leave. Hell, I’m even inclined to make sure he doesn’t leave the room...”

“Jeongin...” You squeezed your partner’s shoulder which felt stringy and tense under your fingertips. “I got it. Trust me. He won’t leave my sight. I promise.”

“..Okay.” He said with a nervous brush to his hair, then he pressed the elevator button with his knuckle.

“You...okay?”

The young man appeared to snap out of a trance. “What? ...Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m keeping it together fine. It’s just...there’s a lot riding on this mission. I don’t...”

The gold and reflective elevator dinged to the ground floor.

“We can’t disappoint Carroll with this one. There’s too much riding on it...I can’t disappoint Carroll.”

You invited your partner into the marbled and mirrored interior of the small space.

“Don’t worry, we won’t.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Even without the help of his royal helpers, Chan managed to clean himself up nice...provided, only the finest clothes had been sent for him to wear. While they weren’t the usual designer labels that he was used to, it was clear that they had been picked out from the finest markets and boutiques in the area. Chan, as he always was, was a prince to the full extent of the word. After a shower and some perfume to his chest, he was the same man that you had been introduced to.

A loose linen shirt swayed from his frame with little regard for the usage of buttons. He wore slacks that had been pressed made of a kind of fabric that you had never seen before, but looked airy and comfortable. As always, there was a small assortment of shoes for him to choose from as well. He picked brown leather loafers, then tucked up his sleeves to reveal his arms; scratched as they were, but still strong and spiderwebbed with thick veins.

Arrangements had been made for you to share one of the bedrooms with him--as much as you had fought it at first. Chan was thrilled with the idea, and gladly let you settle into his room with your small assortment of sidepieces and modest set of clothes by regulation of The Agency. While it had mostly been denim button downs and several kinds of functional trousers, they had sent an evening gown.

The silky white fabric was not unlike the dress that had worn for the gala, but it appeared to be even more sultry once you held it to your frame. The thin spaghetti straps barely held to your shoulders and the back dipped nearly halfway down your back.

Knowing the man that you had an appointment with, you figured the dress would make it just a little bit easier to talk to him. Along with it, there was a matching set of diamond earrings and a necklace that glinted with the same sheen of the sea.

“You’ll look gorgeous in that.” Chan said while slipping on a wristwatch. “I’m sure that it will suit you perfectly.”

The wooden bedside nightstand creaked when you put your holster and Glock in with a matching matte black knife. You had to be careful with that one, as it had nearly cut your finger upon inspection earlier.

“Hm. I think the both of us know that you’d prefer it on these lovely marble floors rather than on me. Correct?”

The confident prince strode across the room in the dim lighting of a couple lamps with stained glass shades. Outside of the balcony attached to your room, the sheer curtains blew in the night air and distorted the city lights across the river. Further, Cairo Tower surged with a pink light wrapping around the length were the cylinder pierced the sky.

“Maybe.” He tutted, then crinkled the king-sized bed where he sat. The prince’s disposition was alluring, there was no denying. He tiled his head to inspect you further, jaw clenching with a sharp angle and a testing glare to his brown pupils. The man smiled slightly while rubbing his index and ring finger down the sleeve of your considerably less scratchy blouse.

“I hope that during our time here Bee, I’ll get to know you a little better. I’m...really looking forward to our drink later. I made reservations for us.”

“Reservations? When did you do that?”

“Oh. When you were showering.” He smirked at his sneaky plans unbeknownst to you.

“If you think that I’m letting you go anywhere else besides this hotel--”

“--Bee?” The young royal grew quieter, softer, careful even. His hand cascaded from your arm down to your waist where he tentatively went to grab at your hip and squeeze lightly there.

While your first reaction was to swat him away, your second crept up on you unexpectedly, and swelled with a kind of confused euphoria feeling the pressure of him on your body. You let his hand linger there, thumb pressed into your hipbone.

“You don’t need that dress to be beautiful.”

His words snapped you back; sickly sweet, and sticky in your chest. You cast his hand off of you.

“You’re crossing the line, your Highness. Don’t...don’t touch me again.”

The royal sighed as he rose, then inspected his face in the sizeable mirror. Each of his cuts and scars had been skillfully covered with makeup the best he could manage.

“Bee, I’d cross multiple lines for you. I thought you knew?”

“THIS BED IS FUCKIN’ AMAZING!!” Seungmin called from the opposite of the suite.

The prince smiled, then followed you to the door.

“I’ve already got enough on my hands, your Highness. I ask that you not distract me.”

“Distract you?”

As soon as you had said it, regret bit at the tips of your ears. You couldn’t meet his teasing glances, but rather slid one of your more discrete sidepieces into your crossbody bag--as if guns as such could be such a thing.

“I-I...I’ll sleep on the couch.” You then resolved out loud, however the prince chuckled at your sudden break.

“As you wish Bee.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“I think that this is the best meal that I’ve ever eaten in my entire life!!”

Seungmin kicked his legs under the table to the embarrassed glances of both Jeongin and Chan. Before you, the prince had ordered a variety of both cold and hot mezzah dishes with a couple main entrees for you to share. While he was the only one to drink, he indulged in the most expensive wine that the hotel had to offer. Granted, everything would be paid for in cash from The Agency, however the Prince swore up and down that anyone could order anything that they wanted and that The Agency would be paid back in full. You and your partners ate modestly, however the young student didn’t hold back. As the boy shoved his face, it appeared to make the prince happy to see him eating so well.

You were still an odd group, and garnered curious glances from other restaurant guests. While they were only glances in passing, they still didn’t make you feel any better. You had already drawn enough attention to yourself with you being an odd mix of foreigners who each held themselves differently. You could sense that you partner felt it too while he sipped at his seasonal soup with eyes up to scan the room as he did so.

Chan threw his arm behind your chair to take in the rest of the room: perfectly decorated with jade green chandeliers and perfectly symmetrical wallpaper and furnishings. It was as if he felt somehow content with your strange little group; like he was the ringleader of it all or some king of the round table. For a moment, he paused to watch the way that the boats passed by on the river from the window nearest to him and sighed. Knowing him, he was probably enjoying running for his life in this way.

Two cleared his throat and unbuttoned his fashionable suit jacket as the waiters came to clear the table for dessert.

“So. What are the specs for tomorrow?”

Jeongin fiddled with his glasses, then dabbed away at the corners of his mouth. “He’s invited us to come around 11pm. He wants us to dress up too--as I’m sure you’ve all seen the clothes that have been provided for us. He apparently loves his formalities, but, anything to make him feel more comfortable I suppose. His men will meet us in the front and take us to him, then we try our best not to fuck it up.”

“--Which we won’t.” You soothed your partner.

Seungmin perked up, “I’m coming too?”

“How else are we going to look after ya, kid?” Two ruffled up the young man’s hair.

“W-wait. Didn’t you say that it’s a club? Will they even let me in? I’m not like, 21 yet? I mean, I will be in a couple months--”

“--Ahhh you’re so cute.” Chan beamed. “If you’re rolling with us that doesn’t matter.”

Seungmin blushed and played with the condensation of his water glass. “Oh.”

Your partner shifted in his seat. “Speaking of. Considering that you’re “one of us” now. We need to discuss something important with you. Your identity.” He looked over to you to finish the rest of the speech that had been pushed off for just a bit too long.

“Your name...is your most valuable asset. It’s the only thing about yourself that you can keep for yourself. No one else should know it besides you...and, well, us. If they know your name, they know your family, they know where you live, where you go to school, even that girl that you had a crush on in the fourth grade. Got it?”

Seungmin gulped dry with blown out eyes. “I-I think that I understand.”

“What do you want us to call you from now on?”

He paused, considering towards the ceiling. ”Well...if you’re B, and he’s F...and he’s J...I could be S? Simple enough right?”

“S it is then.”

The waiters arrived with every dessert possible: chocolate cake, Crème Brule, fruit cheesecake garnished with mint, as well as traditional desserts like Om Ali and Mehalabiya--a type of milk pudding dressed with delicate, pink, edible flowers.

Seungmin--now dubbed S--made happy little eating sounds while he tried a little bit of everything.

“Thank you.” You finally spoke to the prince, who now smelled strongly of Lotus and Jasmine.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind treating my friends.”

The word hung in the air, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Friends.

“Where is this reservation that you mentioned?”

He took a swing from his crystal glass with finesse. “Hm. That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Jeongin told me that I need to keep an eye on you, you know that? It would be best if we didn’t leave the hotel at all--”

“--But what would be the fun in that?” The prince nearly pouted.

From the others side of the table, Two in his aviators brushed off his lap before standing. “I’m going to get some sleep, if that’s alright with you? I’m feeling pretty jetlagged and I want to be prepared for tomorrow. Excuse me.”

The slender man bowed to you at the table, then even deeper to the prince.

“What was that about?” Jeongin muttered while he poked at the thin caramel layer of his French dessert.

“Actually, I think I want to head to bed too, I’m stuffed.” Seungmin rubbed his belly in his contentment. “Also...I think I might have homework due...heh. I don’t know...I’ve got to figure out all these all these time differences and stuff.” He pushed in his chair then gave the prince a deep bow. “Thank you, your Highness.”

“My pleasure.” Chan said with a tiny bow back. “Rest up, kid.”

With the empty holes at the table, the silence was deafening.

“And then there were three.” Jeongin yawned. “Bee? Wanna do some laps in the morning? I saw that they had a pool? Wanna see if you can beat my record...again?”

“Psh. I was coming off that biochemical cocktail the last time we tired. You had an advantage.”

“Then you’ll beat me? Hm! I look forward to that.” Your adorable partner flashed the first smile that you’d seen in a couple days. You missed it, you realized.

“Sleep tight Bee. Goodnight your Highness.”

“Thank you Fox.” The prince mirrored his warm smile.

Knives and forks clinked on china in the dining room, and music softly payed the soundtrack of the evening. A low hum filled the space where the tourists and patrons chatted among themselves. It was peaceful and normal amidst everything that had been pricking your skin and plaguing worry over your mind. The prince merely sighed, sparking eyes reflecting the candles dying out on the table.

“And now it’s just the two of us.”

“Seems like it.”

“Can I whisk you away now?”

“Whisk? Who said that I would allow any whisking?”

“Come on...Bee. Just this one time? I promise to be on my best behavior.”

You laughed out incredulously at the comment. “You out of all people can’t promise something like that.”

“I guess you’re right about that. But...still, I won’t try to make a scene or anything.”

The royal placed his napkin on the table with his knife and fork respectfully tilted off the edge of his plate.

“Follow me?”

Chan held out his hand. It was pink with heat and scraped a little from the glass that had pierced the fragile flesh. In some way, you had felt a twinge of guilt seeing the small injury knowing that you couldn’t have protected him well enough then. You allowed him to lace your fingers with yours, and felt the rough cuts of his scars in your palm.

You had promised to yourself that he would never know such pain again.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“Annnd...this is it!”

You had taken all of twenty paces outside of the hotel when Chan gestured with open arms to the riverfront. Just at the riverbank, a steamboat was anchored with open doors for hotel guests to enter. The massive, multideck, white steamboat shone like the moon peaking at the ocean’s horizon. Each of the semi-circle windows were lined with white lights and from the inside, the delightful sound of laugher and live music spilled out to the glossy water of the Nile.

“W-what is this?”

“Well…it’s a dinner cruise but I just signed us up for the bar part. Are you...surprised? I thought that it must be pretty safe considering that we’re on the water and no one can drive up and shoot at us.”

“I mean...it’s a bit closed off, but nothing that I can’t handle.”

The prince held out his arm for you to lead the way, then took your hand to help you watch your step down the stairs. Chan provided his name to the conductor in elegant sounding Arabic, leaving you shocked.

“Y-you speak Arabic too?”

Chan chuckled once more, taking your hand in his to bring you down the creaking wood deck with swinging with lanterns above your heads.

“As a royal and diplomat, it’s best for me to know how to communicate if I might need to.”

“I must say your Highness, I am definitely impressed.”

“What? You thought I was just another pretty face?” The charming prince escorted you to a room within the steamboat that was lined with red velvet carpets and small bar tables with tea candles and water lilies floating in a shallow dish. He pulled out your chair before his own, then settled with hands folded in his lap. “I’m trained in hand-to-hand too, although I could use a refresher; that was so long ago, back when I went to school.”

“Hand-to-hand? Well! You really are full of surprises.”

The prince appeared smug and faintly amused by the compliment as he crossed his legs under the table and leaned in with his dizzying floral scent.

The waitress appeared and Chan flexed his language skills once more while he ordered a Hemmingway Daiquiri for himself and a French 75 for you. Somewhere off in the distance or perhaps a different part of the boat, louder and more excitable music played along with the echoing claps of those who listened along. Here, it was much quieter, and the loud sound was replaced with a jazz song that you had heard before--likely from your more formative years.

“It’s a beautiful night.” Chan began, “Thank you for agreeing to do this with me. I know that I’ve been a bit forward, but, I appreciate you entertaining me.”

“If I had said no, what would’ve happened then?”

“Well, maybe I would’ve dropped it, but...knowing you...I don’t think that I would’ve given up easily.”

The waitress returned with the drinks on a silver platter: his grapefruit pink and yours the color of a lemon drop.

The royal rose his glass for you to clink with yours, “To...adventures.”

“To adventures.”

With a resounding sound, the glasses met, and you watched the way that the shimmering liquid ripped across the prince’s nose.

The two of you sat for several moments more, saying nothing, but sipping and soaking in the night breeze and the humidity that made your whole body feel blanketed with a sense of calm. You had felt this way before back at the safe house, and it snuck up on you once more. Simply exisiting with the prince provided you with a sense of solace that had long since faded from your life. The sense of responsibility that you felt for the man was noticeable, but you couldn’t help but notice how he provided for you the same sense of safety that you did for him.

Perhaps it was the loneliness of the job and the solitude that came along with it. Was that you craved to be touched? Listened to? Admired? You had distanced yourself from irrational things such as love and other feelings of attachment. In your line of work, people died often, and you had to move on just as fast as their lives had been taken from them. You supposed that you had become unfeeling at this point...but this prince, so full of himself and focused on the material...there was something about him that reminded you how to feel.

“Bee? What are you thinking about?” He asked carefully.

“Oh...nothing.”

“You looked kind of lost here.”

“Was I?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah...yeah. I’m fine. Maybe the drink is just...getting to me.”

“Just one drink?” Chan giggled a bit, “I didn’t take you for being a lightweight Bee. I thought that they gave you like, drinking lessons or something back at that agency of yours.”

“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have more than one drink anyway.”

The prince nodded, understanding. “So, what will you tell me about yourself? Is there anything that you’re allowed to tell me? Or...will you always be this mysterious, beautiful, enigma?”

“Me? Enigmatic? Ha! Hardly.”

“Well? What then?” The prince sucked at the lime garnishing his glass. “Since I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your real name, I’d love it if you could tell me something.”

Over the stereo, the muted trumpet played along with the twang of thick upright bass strings,

“I suppose I could tell you how...” Chan leaned in, “I didn’t want to join The Agency. At first.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“It felt like a bit of a last resort and anything that is a last resort is something that can’t come easy.”

Chan titled his head as if to say, I’m listening.

“Life...fucking sucks sometimes. Sometimes...you’re left...living with your sleazy uncle with a letter addressed to you post mortem telling you to carry on the family name if you want to feel some connection to the parents that you never knew.”

The royal cast his eyes down, “I-I’m so sorry.”

“The Agency has been everything I’ve known since I was a teenager. This life...it’s everything. I think in a way I feel obligated to it...since it was what took my parents from me...I owe it to them to do a job that they spent so much energy on so that it wasn’t in vain.”

You stopped, realizing the weight of your words in the air and how they cut like the blade of the knife that you kept tucked in your waistband sheathed in a leather cover. Once the sharp metal was taken from it’s confines, there was nothing to protect those from the damage it could do.

“Bee...I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine what it must be like to loose your parents and have been thrown into this life...no one deserves that.”

“Its okay.” You sighed. “I did it to myself. Now, it’s of no concern. I can take care of my own, and I have a new family. I try not to look back.”

As he had done numerous times before that night, Chan’s hand reached out for yours under the table, brushing up against the white cloth.

“I can’t say how much I appreciate you enough for what you do; risking your life for me...I owe you everything Bee.” The prince softened, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand.

The chug of the steamboat hissed softly behind you in that back bar room, and just through the windows, you could see the stars dotting the sky just as they did in any corner of the world. They were a reminder that while some things changed, others didn’t.

The echo of footsteps on the deck clicked, causing you to turn a careful glance back to the direction of the sound. The man who entered was dressed in a casual cotton button up and navy slacks. On the white of his breast, he wore a pin holding the symbol of a crest.

“Lee Minho?” Chan gasped.

“Your Highness!” The handsome man bowed immediately with a startled little smile.

The friendly prince stood immediately upon seeing the other royal to shake his hand. “What a coincidence that we meet again!”

Lee Minho shied with a polite smile while fiddling with his hair that looked to be masterfully styled. “Must be...fated. Or something like that.”

“Are you alright? Last I saw you was at the shooting at the gala. I’m so glad to see that you’re safe. You didn’t get injured I hope?”

This close, Lee Minho had oddly cat-like eyes that were as intense as they were alluring. He was just as you had remembered him to be--put together and polished like a true royal, dastardly handsome with all the right curves to his body, and just enough mystery to him to pique the interest of anyone who had sensed his air--just as the prince had.

“What are you doing in Cairo?” Chan asked, gesturing for the stranger to pull up a chair.

Lee Minho swatted away the question with an annoyed cringe. “Royal stuff, you know how it goes. Everyone is always trying to poke their noses in places where they shouldn’t be...unless they’re looking to get themselves killed. That's why they send me. I’m dispensable.”

“Oh, I’d hardly say that.”

In seconds the prince’s entire body had shifted towards the direction of the other man, and hung onto each of his words as if they were a siren song.

“When you’re not as high up in the ranks as you are your Highness, royalty starts to feel more like servitude than a legitimate position.”

“So, where are you poking your nose?”

Lee Minho’s eyes nervously flicked to you, and Chan realized that he had skipped right over introductions.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce the two of you. Minho, this is Bee, my--”

“--I’m a member of his detail.” You spoke for him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you formally Lee Minho. I recall seeing you at the gala.”

Minho bowed slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

It was obvious that you had made the man uncomfortable, just as you had liked it to be. While you could see what the prince had seen in him, you had the disposition to be much less trusting than his Highness.

“Which royals are employing you? I’d love to know! It’s always exciting for me to learn about who is plotting what. The royal drama keeps me really entertained.”

Minho sat up straighter, then waved a hand for the waitress to come scuttling over.

“Some of my family members. You wouldn’t know them, we’re all dreadfully insignificant to be honest. They heard all this business about those men with the red crests and they’re starting to get scared. After they targeted...you, they’re wondering which royal family might be next...if any. I’m here to find out who they are, their whereabouts, anything else.”

“Wow! That’s actually what we--”

“--And where are you planning on getting this information if I may ask?” You hushed the prince’s loose lips as quickly as you could.

Minho leaned in over the flickering candle to lower his tone, “I heard that there’s an informant here in the city who might now something about this group. They’ve been popping up on national news too as of late. I’m looking to talk to him tomorrow evening. Luckily, I was able to make an appointment but it was no small feat. I had to bribe him to high hell to get him to speak with me.”

“Hm. Sounds familiar.” You mumbled.

Chan’s eyes widened, then he looked back to you to ask for permission. You gave him a nod.

“It seems like we’re here for a common purpose my friend.” The prince leaned in to bridge the gap between them, his hand notably reaching to rest on the other man’s thigh below the table’s surface. “We’re seeking similar information and I think we might be speaking of the same informant.”

“But your Highness, isn’t it dangerous it you to do something like this?”

“Not when I’ve got her around.” Chan threw a sly grin to you across the table. “I’m well protected. And you? Where’s your detail?”

“I’m afraid that I’m out here alone. Like I said, when you’re as low in the ranks as I am...”

“What? That’s terrible!! They aren’t even protecting their own? Bee!!”

“Yes, your Highness?” You already knew where this was going.

“Let’s bring Minho along with us tomorrow! We know that there’s safety in numbers--”

“Your Highness, in case you haven’t noticed, our hands are already a bit full...”

“I can fend for myself.” Lee Minho suddenly piped. “Travelling alone, I’ve picked up a few things about protecting myself. You don’t have to protect me, but, I appreciate the offer.”

“Nonsense! You should come with us! I would feel more comfortable if you did rather than went by yourself.”

Lee Minho gave the royal a smile in his thanks, it was pure and a little adorable you had considered...but that was likely the champagne going to your head.

“Really? I appreciate it, your Highness.”

While you were distanced, you nearly could’ve sworn that the prince had squeezed the other’s leg reassuringly, and you were willing to bet he had rubbed it with his thumb too just as he had done to you.

After long, the waitress returned with Lee Minho’s drink, and the two men chatted like old college buddies while you slipped away at your drink in an attempt to make it last as long as you could. While Chan did try to engage you in conversation, it would never last for long until he would become puppy-eyed over the stranger again. In the end, you wondered if the tipsy prince would’ve also confessed to this man if he had one too many drinks.

The table bumped with their jovial and restless legs, and you could only imagine what wandering hands sought to discover.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The hotel was quiet save for the click of heels on the marble floors from ladies who had just gotten off the steamboat and clung to their husbands in their drunken stupor. They cackled in the empty and golden lobby, then pressed hasty kisses into the stuttering mouths of their husbands who’s mouths then smeared with hot pick lipstick. Chan giggled at the sight while he tripped over his own feet too.

“Ahhhh. Being in love is so cute.” He adored them once you had entered the elevator.

“You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?”

The prince hiccupped, then shook his head. “Unlike you I know how to hold my liquor. I’m fine. Just a bit sleepy I think. Must be the jet lag.”

The tones for each floor beeped in the compartment, and Chan lulled his head back and forth.

“So. Lee Minho huh?” You said, not even able to help yourself. The alcohol had brought you a bit of an edge...so you thought.

“Lee. Minho.” He sighed out dreamily. “What do you think of him?”

“I think I can’t trust anyone as long as I haven’t ran at least three background checks on them.”

“Awww, Bee, you’re so thoughtful of me.”

In the empty hallway, the prince with squinting eyes leaned against the doorframe to the royal suite, reaching out to brush up against your blouse once more. You let him, excusing his drunken state. After he did so, his eyes hazed over with something much different, while he looked exhausted, it was laced with something else: something much more longing.

“Bee...fuck, I really want to kiss you again.”

“Hm. That’s ripe coming from you who was just viciously flirting with Lee Minho.”

You could see his head spinning in his dilated pupils. “What?”

The door clicked open and you less than gracefully lead the prince through the dark to your shared bedroom.

“B-Bee, what are you talking about?”

You scoffed, “I’m not blind, you know.”

“A-are you...jealous?”

“W-what? Fuck no. I’m just...you can’t just...toss people around thinking that they’ll all bend to you.”

Chan sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed at his temples when you turned one of the lamps on.

“I-I was doing that?”

You tore a pillow from the bed as well as the throw blanket at the end. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Good evening, your Highness.”

“Wait! Bee!” The young prince stumbled after you, stubbing his toe against the bedpost in the process. “Ah-FUCK!” He grunted.

“What?” You growled back to him, half shrouded in the darkness of the suite living room.

The royal stumbled out, eyes blank and backlit from the bedroom. While you couldn’t see him fully, you later could assume that there was something in him terribly torn and ripped in that moment that made little sense to him, as it did to you to.

Arms reached out, bodies softly illuminated by the lights of the city, and the prince leaned himself fully into you, pressing bitter tasting lips to yours with a heat and desire that only seemed amplified the breather he had gotten. While he tasted of lime and grapefruits, with a twinge of alcohol. He was just as addictive as any vice. You wanted to feel him. As infuriating as he was, and oblivious, your abhorrence to him was just as strong as your attraction.

“Mm, Bee--” He moaned directly into your mouth while shuffling both of you back to the bedroom.

The prince’s trembling breath floated from his mouth to yours where he used both of his large hands to pull your face closer to his. You knew that in some way, there must have been something ingenuine about the whole scenario, but you didn’t care too much, not when kissing him felt like something. Maybe he had kissed you out of pity, or because he really had wanted to kiss you. You broke for seconds before both of your tangled limbs hit the bed.

“Before...you said that you wouldn’t kiss me.”

“I didn’t make any promises...but, how come...you said that you wouldn’t hesitate...? But you kissed ba--”

You silenced the prince’s words with your own heated kisses that made little sense, only that kissing him as such felt good. You straddled the man while his hungry fingers traced all the way down your back. The prince’s hips sunk into the cushiony mattress, and you screwed him down even harder into it with your own heated hips grinding into him with as much pressure as you could muster.

“This is what you want, right?” You pulled at his lip with your teeth to hear him groan from it.

“Is it...what you want?” Chan got out between more kisses.

You could blame it on loneliness or lack of touch all that you wanted, but it wasn’t even close.

“Wait. Wait.” Chan suddenly interjected.

“What? What is it?”

The prince looked up at you, that haze in his eyes now fading to something much different that wasn’t covered in the lust that he held before.

“Bee...I-I don’t know if I want it to happen this way. It feels...it’s not...”

“Not what?”

He brushed his hand upward now to caress your face, lingering on the side of the peach fuzz on your cheek. “You deserve better than whatever the hell this is.”

“Oh, so when I finally want to fuck you, you’re saying it isn’t right?”

“I’m saying, I’m drunk, it’s late, clearly there’s something that’s upsetting you, and I want to know what it is before we do anything else. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

It might’ve been Lee fucking Minho, or it might’ve been something else much stickier for you to admit, but seeing the prince like this, it was too much. He was gorgeous under you, practically angelic looking.

“I-I’m...complicating things.” You whispered out, and the prince softened even further.

“That’s what it is? Bee, I told that you don’t have to worry about--”

“--Yes. Yes I do...your Highness. I-I can’t feel...”

“Bee--let’s just talk about--”

The prince might’ve said more, but his words faded into murmurs once you closed his door behind you, then crawled onto the couch in Jeongin and Seungmin’s room, locking their door too.

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

164 notes · View notes

thatshithurted8 · 4 years

Text

Out Of Character

Summary: In which JJ and the Pogues are left confused as to why you ran off with Barry’s money, but their worry only increases when they find you in a brand new hot tub at John B’s.

Hey! I have another idea for a Jj imagine. What if the reader and jj are dating and instead of jj in the hot tub scene it’s the reader because her mom is abusing her. Requested by: @joshy-obx

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Mention of physical/verbal abuse, panic attack and injuries.

Every member of the Pogues had their own respective roles, which made the group click so well. Kie was the mom of the group, always scolding the boys for doing something stupid while simultaneously giving out amazing advice. Pope was the smart and logical one, and despite him being the only one out of the group with a promising future he would do anything for his friends. John B was seemingly the leader of the five teenagers and he was known as being strong willed. He could get things done no matter what the risks were. JJ was the smart ass, but also the one who always got the group into trouble. No one could really relax around JJ as he was always causing trouble. And lastly there was you. Your role in the group was being the strong and optimistic one. When things got rough you were always the first one to look at the bright side, in fact none of the Pogues have ever seen you cry.

So when you seemingly acted on pure impulse and adrenaline the rest of the Pogues were shocked and at a lack of words seeing you get defensive for stealing Barry’s money, causing you to ultimately run off with it. It wouldn’t be until later that night that they would understand the reasoning behind your actions.

When you ran off naturally the Pogues searched for you since you were acting so out of character. However, JJ was the most worried. You two have been dating for the past year and have been friends for the last five. Over the years you and JJ have gotten extremely close so it alarmed him to see you act out.

The four remaining Pogues plus Sarah all split up to look for you. Sarah and John B went together while Pope and Kie went off on their own as well. JJ went off by himself, making sure to check every spot he knew you would go to like where you guys went on your first date or where JJ would find you after you had a rough day at home and you needed to clear your head. Despite the groups efforts they couldn’t find you.

Obviously JJ wasn’t going to give up on looking for you, but he hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning so he found himself walking up to the chateau. As he steps foot on the property the whole yard is illuminated by fairy lights strung throughout the trees.

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, none of that stuff was there when they left this morning. The blonde rounds the corner and his heart drops when he sees you sitting in a brand new hot tub.

“Y/N?” He calls out while walking over to you, his hunger being completely forgotten.

“Yoo I’ve been waiting for you to get here!” You exclaim as your eyes fall onto your boyfriends figure.

“What is all this?” The blonde asks reaching the hot tub while looking around at his surroundings.

“I decided to get something nice for my family for once.” You slur. JJ looks around the hot tub and notices beer cans in the cup holders and some were even floating in the warm water.

“Y/N you can’t be serious right? You stole money from a drug dealer and spent it on a fucking hot tub! He’s going to kill you.” JJ stresses, but you simply roll your eyes.

Just as JJ was about to open his mouth to give you another lecture your attention moves to find the sound of a car door being shut. A smile appears on your face when you see your best friends Kie and Pope start to walk over to you two after Kie locked the car.

“Hey what’s up guys!” You exclaim raising your arms above your head like a referee calling a field goal.

“What the hell Y/N?” Kie asks as her and Pope make it over to JJ’s side who had his arms crossed over his chest and a furrow deep in his brow. Pope and Kie looked at JJ confused, but he only answered with a shrug, he was out of the loop as much as they were.

“I was hoping you guys would be coming! Hey look at this.” You say pressing a few buttons causing a disco ball above you that none of the Pogues noticed before to start spinning and the jets in the hot tub to splash upwards.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion when your friends don’t look amazed by the cool features in front of them. With that being said you really wanted to impress them and have them join you so with a swig of your beer you start to press random buttons hoping something cool would happen.

“What the hell did she do?” Pope asks turning to JJ.

“I don’t know man it was like this when I got here.”

Kiara turns around to try and convince you to get out of the hot tub so they can understand what the hell happened and why you seemingly had a breakdown, but the sound of the screen door opening and closing causes you all to look over at the chateau. Your younger brother and sister run down the steps of the porch and race each other to the hot tub. This only causes JJ, Pope and Kie to become even more confused. It was a known fact that you didn’t allow the two kids to be out this late. After all you’ve been practically raising them since you were ten.

“Y/N our movie finished can we come in?” Your brother Braxton asks dipping his hand into the warm water while your sister, Moira gave you puppy dog eyes.

“Of course!” You exclaim while giggling, causing your siblings to turn around and race back into the chateau giggling, to get changed into their bathing suits.

“Uh Y/N shouldn’t they be in bed?” Kie asks once the rambunctious kids were back inside and out of ear shot.

“Who cares? My mom and step dad don’t and my dad doesn’t either so why should I?”

“What do you mean your dad doesn’t care?” JJ asks, the last time he checked your dad was living on the main land with your step mom and you guys were welcome to stay with him when ever.

You simply roll your eyes and take another gulp of beer before throwing the now empty can somewhere in the yard. “I was going to ship Brax and Mo off to see my dad.” You slur while saying your siblings nicknames.

“But when I called him all I got was voice mail. He says that we can come and visit when ever, but he doesn’t mean it. He’s too happy with his new family and we’d just ruin everything.” You recall sitting back into the warmth and jets of the tub while allowing your legs to float up, your toes poking out of the water.

“Who cares right? Now we have this sick hot tub!”

“You could’ve still got them plane tickets!” JJ exclaims, Kie cutting him off right after, “Or you could’ve donated the money to literally any charity!”

“Or even give Barry the money back, he’s going to kill us you guys!” Pope stresses looking at everyone in the group.

Annoyed with your boyfriend’s and best friends critiques to your actions you stand up quickly, water falling off of your body. “Well I didn’t okay! I spent the money on something my friends - no something my family can enjoy so if you guys are going to keep on judging me and my fucking decisions then leave!”

Chills run up JJ’s spine at your speech and how your torso looked when you finally stood up. Along your stomach, especially around your rib cage were dark bruises and a few cuts. As Kie and Pope realize the damage done to your body as well, the yard falls silent except for the sound of crickets and the hot tubs jets.

“Y/N.” JJ says softly stepping closer to the edge of the hot tub. He was filled with anger, knowing exactly who did this to you, but all he wanted to do was comfort you the same way you do when he endures a beating.

Neither you or JJ notice Kie and Pope scurrying to the chateau’s porch to bring Braxton and Moira back inside who just came back out, clad in their swim suits.

“It’s fine J.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes.

Your boyfriend kicks off his boots and socks before stepping into the hot tub, not caring that his cargo shorts and the contents in the pockets were now wet. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you towards your chest. Once your cheek makes contact with his shirt you let the emotions that you have held in for so long out.

JJ knew your home life wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t know it was this bad. You have always been so strong. Even when he would meet you at your special spot in the boneyard when you were having a rough night you never even implied that you were getting physically abused. Yes, he knew your coked up mom and step dad were both verbally abusive which was still horrible he had no idea things have gotten physical. A part of JJ felt as if he let you down since he had no inkling as to what was happening to you when you were at home, causing a part of his heart to break especially knowing you have been there bandaging up his cuts and scrapes from his father while your own bruises and injuries were healing themselves.

“I just wanted to be a good sister for once and get them out of there, but it didn’t work nothing ever works.”

“Hey hey look at me.” JJ says pulling back and holding your face in his large hands. “You are a great sister to Braxton and Moira. Without you they would have nothing. You are the best thing that has happened to them and they love you so much.”

You simply look into your boyfriends eyes with tears falling down your face. Seeing you like this made JJ’s heartache. “You know that right?” He asks to make sure since you didn’t look too convinced from what he said.

In all honesty you knew how much your siblings valued and loved you, but life was tough. You never signed up to be Moira’s and Braxton’s primary caregiver, especially at such a young age. Nonetheless you had to do what you had to do, you had to play with the cards you were dealt. However, at this point you were so tired. So tired of playing mom, balancing school, searching for the gold and being the brunt of the physical and verbal abuse from your mom and step dad. You wanted to give up, but the way JJ looked at you made you realize that you couldn’t.

Nodding your head yes you let out another sob before pulling JJ closer to you.

JJ walks out of his bedroom where you were currently sleeping, and he makes sure to close the door behind him quietly. He walks down the hallway into the living room where he found Kie, Pope, John B and Sarah. The rooms atmosphere felt tense as all the teenagers were concerned and worried for you.

The blonde was successful in calming you down and getting you out of the hot tub after your emotional moment. He ran you a bath and bathed you while your body continued to tremor from the after shock of your panic attack. While he dried you off and bandaged your injuries John B and Sarah returned, confused as the other Pogues just an hour before. Kie explained to the couple what happened as Pope tiptoed out of John B’s room where Braxton and Moira were sleeping, he just got them to fall asleep.

“How is she?” Sarah asks quietly, worry evident all over her face once she see’s JJ walk into the room. The rest of the Pogues look up at the blonde expectantly.

“She’s as good as she can be right now.” JJ says quietly while walking over to the screen door where his boots were. The four teenagers watch him as he slips them on.

“Where are you going?” John B asks.

“If Y/N wakes up tell her I’ll be back soon.” JJ says ignoring John B’s question before opening the door and walking down the steps of the front porch.

JJ was going to make sure that your step dad and mom never laid a finger on you or your siblings ever again.

Question of the day: What is your “role” in your friend group?

528 notes · View notes

give-grian-rights · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER TWO HOUR. CHAPTER TWO HOUR. I AM SO TIRED. IT IS 6AM. TELL ME IF HTERE’S TYPOS AND THAT NORMAL STUFF

Bets Against The Void, Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Whitelist au from @petrichormeraki

Crossposted on AO3

Tubbo quietly chuckled, smiling fondly as their friend squawked indignantly. “Tubbo! I’m serious, explain some shit, fuckin’ nerd!” Tommy scoffed, prodding at their side with his elbow. Tubbo hushed him, their smirk still lingering.

“Hermitcraft is a super crazy popular server. If you’ve ever searched for examples of builds on your tablet, chances are, they’re from one of the Hermits. Or if you looked up something about redstone! Anything! You’ll find one of their instructions. They’re geniuses- just, complete geniuses. Grian’s one of them-”

“Grian’s one of them!?” Tommy exclaimed, his eyes shooting open. Tubbo’s grin widened, nodding vigorously. “Yes! He’s the newest Hermit, last I heard.. Most of the guys he’s teammates with every MCC, they’re usually other Hermits!” They’d continue explaining to the best of their ability.

“Should’ve fuckin’ started with the fact that Grian’s here! That fuckin’ dude! He killed Dream three times! Three times, Tubbo!” The blond continued with his excited shouting. Well, that certainly fixed the situation, Tubbo mused.

The brunett nodded along, chuckling. “Yeah! He, and most of the others, really- post all that much right now. The new World Client, with the axolotls and caves ‘n stuff? They’ve started posting and sharing discoveries about that. I know Grian did, at least. But considering they call themselves the ‘Hermits’ it makes sense to be a bit inactive, yeah?” Tubbo shrugged, tapping the chilly cool sandstone beneath them.

Tommy nodded dumbly, glancing around the room for a moment. Tubbo, meanwhile, had pulled their tablet up. The holographic comm system was displayed infront of them, everything on the screen they touched being read aloud to them.

Launching an accessibility app, the tablet began describing aloud the block palette, dimensions, and colors. As the tablet’s robotic voice played in his com system, reading aloud the details of his surrounding, Tubbo nodded along to an incoherent rant from Tommy.

Tubbo wasn’t too sure what Tommy was ranting about- likely MCC, and Grian. Grian got a kill on Tommy, last MCC, if they remember correctly. The brunnett wouldn’t be surprised if that was the target of the blond’s current tangent. Tommy hadn’t even been able to get a word out, when Grian began shouting vigorous apologises between matches.

The descriptions from the tablet were long, and boring. The robotic voice drawing on and on, as it attempted to describe the intricate room. Shutting down the program, Tubbo tuned back into Tommy.

“Fuckin’ am..So fucking tired. Of course we ended up here. It’d be to easy if we’d just be let back into Dream SMP, huh? Think Dream even knew we were out? I bet not. Even if he does, probably didn’t even care, fuckin’ dick. Bet that green asshole’s just sitting over his code and shit, simping over Gogy-” The blond ranted heatedly. The blind teen could hear the shifting and chustling of fabric, before the boy’s voice became muffled.

With his head pressed against his knees, legs drawn to his chest, Tommy sat there practically panting. His chest heaved, the rage draining from him. “Why is all- all of this, always so complicated, Tubbo?” Blue eyes turned to meet the scarred, burnt front of the other.

Tubbo picked at faded and torn tennis shoes, tentatively listening. The rymnatic pattern of the boy’s breathing, and the crashing overhead, offered some vague comfort. “All of what?” They’d tilt their head.

The younger of the two quietly sighed, his mouth pressed in a thin line. His hand clutched the bottom of his torn, tan cargo pants, fidgetting with the frayed ends. “Us. Shit with us, it always gets so fuckin’ complicated. Big Man, you’re president. You’re- you’re the fucking president, now, Tubbo.”

The bunnett’s brows furrowed together, as they inched closer to their friend. “Yeah. But it’s- it’s still us, y’know? If- if life was easy, then we’d be missing out on a lot of things. What if we had just never met-”

“We’d always meet eachother, Tubbo. There’s no fuckin’ getting rid of me, even in your fantasy world.” The blond nudged the teen’s shoulder, a wolfish grin evident in his tone.

That made the other crack a smile, shaking their head. “I hope so, Tommy.” They’d chuckle, shaking their head. The weight of the day came crashing down all again. Before the rushing thoughts could boggle down their mind, Tubbo slumped against Tommy’s side sigh an exhausted sigh.

“This is just, livin’ the fucking life, huh?” Tommy remarked, looking over his friend. The tall boy already shifted himself, his long legs sprawled out on the floor with his back leaned against sandstone walls.

His head leaned against that of his compaignian, half-lidded blue eyes giving one last surveillance of the room. “We’ll figure this shit out tomorrow..” Tommy mumbled, glancing down at the brunette.

Tubbo was already asleep, their expression finally one of peace. Tommy wasn’t given a moment more to appreciate the serenity of the quiet room, before he’d be pulled into slumber as well.

Both of the teens were stirred awake by the whirring noises of an active portal- the Netherportal beside them, with particles flying, gaveway to two players. Tommy kicked himself up to his feet, defensively. Tubbo stumbled along with him, pulling back away from the strangers.

Though two stepped out, only one immediately caught Tommy’s eyes.

“W- Holy shit! You’re Grian!” Tommy squawked indignantly.

Tubbo’s head immediately shot up, excitably breaking into a grin. Any exhaustion the two held was wiped away- neither was sure how long their unrestful sleep had been, but it was far more than other nights.

The target of the excitement, Grian, sheepishly stood there, nodding. “Uh, yeah! You guys are Tommy and Tubbo, yeah? I’ve seen you at most of the MCC’s I’ve been to. You both did really good last time, by the way! I’m really looking forward to the next one!”

This was easily the closest they probably ever were to the dirty blond. He also looked far more at ease, on this server. The iconic figure, ever-present in the community, had his wild mop of a fringe frazzled and framing his face.

Poking under the bangs, Tommy could now see faint, ragged lines from a scar, along with other various healed-over wounds. Another contrary to how either of them had seen Grian, at MCC, was the large circular glasses loosely sat on his face.

Seeing one of his heroes like this (The only one that hadn’t betrayed, killed him, turned against him, despised him-) in such a..Domestic state, was bizarre. Tommy was scrambling for words, starting and giving up on getting his tongue around what to say.

“This is so cool! Hi! I used to watch and- and listen, to a lot of your old build tutorials! A lot of people on our server would always say how we learned building from you!” Tubbo would blurt out, practically bouncing on their heel. Grian turned to the teen, slightly shocked but amused.

“Oh! I- well thank you! I’m glad I could be any help at all- my builds are nothing compared to some of what the other Hermits have going on..Speaking of others- this is Stress!” He’d take the opportunity to escape the small spotlight, glancing towards the brunette woman next to him sheepishly.

The woman- Stress, apparently, quietly chuckled. A fond smile grazed her face, as she looked over towards the two teenagers. “Ello there, Loves! Sorry to interrupt your fan meetup,” She teased, side-eyeing the dirty blond beside her. “We just wanted to come and check in, is all! X told us two to come visit, yeah?”

Tommy quietly hummed skeptically, surveying her. Short brown hair hung barely as low as her shoulder, a neat, white, blue, and pink flower-crown sat upon her head. The colors must’ve been very purposeful, considering they matched with her colorful outfit of the same color.

“Fine, sure..Well, we’re still fuckin’ breathing, and we’re here. So you don’t really need to be here any longer, yeah?” Tommy scoffed, slumping back against the wall. Tubbo was already standing, nudging at his side.

“Thank you, for checking in. I- I’m sure this is a bit of a strange situation. That- Yeah, that’s my bad.” They chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck. This caught Stress’ attention, turning towards the tene.

“Oh, no! This isn’t a problem at all. Dear, this happens all the time. Grian just- just appeared, one day, in our previous server. We walk out the portal for the first time- and boom! There that weirdo is!” Stress chuckled, her grin unwavering as she gave a playful nudge to the dirty blond beside her.

Grian scoffed, a smirk edging at his lips as he rolled his eyes. “Okay, but I’m not the only example of that happening- you didn’t have to pick me out specifically!”

“Sure I do, Love! You’re the first new Hermit to join, after me and Zed! I get to bully you, lovingly!” She cheered. Stress’ energy was absolutely efficacious, Tubbo couldn’t help but smile and cackle at her and Grian’s banter.

“Uh huh,” Grian scoffed, dramatically crossing his arms. “Last I checked, that was Iskall’s job to bully newcomers- oh, Gord, when you all walked out of the portal and they just decked me ? I mean, it didn’t really hurt all that bad, but it’s a matter of the principle!”

Stress seemed like she was almost gonna break down with laughter, clutching her stomach. “I forgot they did that with you, too! Iskall certainly is one that needs work with their introduction, that absolute weirdo!” She chostled, shaking her head fondly.

She then turned towards the two teens, reassuringly smiling. “They won’t give you any hard time, they’re just like that sometimes, especially in the beginning of a new season..They’re usually just incomprehensible in the beginning, I learnt!” She giggled, covering her mouth.

Tubbo awkwardly laughed, nodding. “Yeah- they, they sound like something.” It was..A strange environment, to be sure.

Sure, they knew of the Hermits, their reputation impossible to avoid- but most outsiders didn’t know much about the actual Hermits. They went by that title for a reason.

Tommy was having similar thoughts, he felt as if he was completely imposing on, everything. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care- it frankly was..Warming, almost, to see this. He missed being able to have that, on Dream’s server.

The blond in particular seemed to have tuned out, because by the time he snapped out of those thoughts, Grian was speaking again.

“We’re glad to see you’re both alright, but, I don’t think we’ve been exactly great hosts. You both have gotta be hungry- I know the last thing you two seem to want is help, but..We’d be happy to help you however we can. We can go get you fresh, real food. Or- you both come with us, and we take you to our central area, the Cowmercial district.”

Tommy stared blankly at Grian for a moment, brows knitted together in bewilderment. “The… Cow..merical district?” He’d repeat, squinting.

Grian snickered, nodding. “Yeah! The name just stuck. It’s our shopping district. We have a bakery- it’s never, ever too early for cake. There’s Doc’s shop, but that’s all villager-bought, if it’s the rare occasion that it’s stocked at all- so the Bakery may be the only option, for today.” He glanced back at Stress, who nodded in agreement.

“Only if you’d want to,” Stress would interject. “Either of us could come bring you food here- but, we figured you might want to just..Get out. You’re allowed to leave here whenever you want- but, navigating our server by yourself, for the first time? Not the easiest.”

The two teens glanced towards eachother. Tubbo looked like they were practically buzzing in place, at the idea of exploring the Hermits’ world. Tommy watched them for a moment, before quietly scoffing.

“..Yeah, okay, sure- how the hell do we even get out of here though, for starters?” Tommy crossed his arms, inching closer towards Tubbo. He, for one, was really not a fan of having to fly out.

Stress cheered excitably, pulling open her inventory. The woman promptly dropped a stack each to the two teens. “I came prepared, just in-case!” She grinned. With a swipe of her arm, the digital screen dissipated.

“If you know how to use elytras, X already said he’s more than happy to lend out two from the back-up system. I have some to spare, as well. But- you two never seemed the most comfortable in the air, during flight-based games.” Grian would add awkwardly, adjusting his own wings behind him.

Tommy didn’t pay much attention to the words- instead, he promptly threw open his inventory, gawking at the full stack of pearls. “What! I don’t think i’ve ever had this many pearls! Holy shit!” He pulled out the stack of sixteen.

One pearl manifested in his hand, while a holographic icon hovered beside him. The pixel-image of an enderpearl, with a large 15x in the corner in white font was projected for only his vision. The blond couldn’t remember a time he had so many enderpearls.

“Thank you! Wow- yeah, pearls aren’t really common in our server! This- this is really nice!” They felt giddy, as they pulled their’s out as well, the action muscle-memory.

“Well, I’m glad you two can put them to good-use, then!” She chuckled. The idle question of how can a server lack pearls skimming through her head for a moment.

Within seconds of her saying that, Tommy had already blindly tossed one of his pearls- promptly falling down from the ceiling, and landing on the floor with a short shriek. Tubbo straightened up from the sidelines, tilting their head.

“Tommy! What did you do?” Tubbo called out accusatorily, as they quickly popped their surrounding descriptor back on.

“Nothing!” Tommy quickly yelled back, lunging to their feet with a stumble as they dusted themselves off.

At the sidelines, Stress and Grian cackled, watching in lighthearted amusement. Tommy could feel his face flushed red with brief embarrassment, quickly attempting to play it off.

“Truer answer; I was being awesome. That was what, Tubbo. Are we eating or what? I want to throw pearls and go places. And eat, that too.” He quickly turned towards the two Hermits expectantly, narrowing his eyes at them.

Grian grinned, nodding. “Yes, yes we are! I have boats. Go ahead and pop up with your pearls, and we’ll fly out to you.” He explained briefly, pulling the boats from his inventory. The thin, digitized object manifesting in his hand.

Tommy turned expectantly to Tubbo. “You got this, Toob?” He tilted his head, watching his friend. Tubbo had immediately nodded vigoriously, running over towards the center of the room, the ceiling above open to the water.

“Yeah! I’ve got this, Big Man! No sweat!” They gave a toothy grin, shifting the enderpearl in their hand. Arching their arm back, the teen cautiously stepped back.

Their communicator had continued reading off the details of the room into their thin earpiece, primarily the dimensions. All they had to do was hit the wall leading up to the surface to get out. They could do that, surely.

With a huff of effort, they chucked the pearl. They heard it break through the under-surface of the water, and then they were submerged. Breaching the surface, they gasped for a moment. The ocean rippled, clothes heavy and soaked. They were certainly glad they had been in their casual clothes, rather than their presidential outfit.

Within a moment, Tommy was up beside them, quietly gasping as well. The blond pushed his hair back, lightly nudging Tubbo away from the gaping hole in the water beneath them- and then Grian and Stress flew out.

The sound from the rockets were deafened from beneath the ocean, thankfully. Only a thin trail of smoke followed them, the sight certainly unfamiliar to the fireworks the two teens had been accustomed to.

Both Hermits had dived straight into the shallow water with a splash, before the dirty-blond dropped down two boats.

“I want to drive! Tommy, i’m driving us!” Tubbo cried out, at the sound of the wood hitting the water. Beside them, Tommy scoffed.

“Tubbo! I’m not gettin’ motion sickness! We just woke up, no way. Your idea of ‘driving’ is no one elses, my friend.” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he pulled himself into the boat. Beside him, Tubbo whined.

“C’mon, man! Nothing like a bit of motion-sickness to get the day started!” They playfully remarked. Despite that, they had already accepted their defeat, pulling up into the boat.

Stress and Grian watched the teens carefully, with Stress laughing lightheartedly at the banter between them as she pulled herself into the boat, behind Grian.

Grian, on the otherhand, was mostly quiet. A thin wisp of a smile was present, conveying one of bemusement. Tommy didn’t get a good look, but, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the look from Grian. He didn’t like it.

“Alright,” The older Brit at hand started. “We’re real close. No one should be at Looky Looky At My Cookie- and it should be early enough that there aren’t any real occupants at the Cowmerical District.” He explained, turning the boat as he got a small start ahead of the teens.

“Sure, then! That sounds g- wait, what’s that name?”

“C’mon, then!” Grian wouldn't answer Tubbo’s valid question, before boating off. Tommy quickly following behind, shouting indignantly after them.

It certainly was odd. It felt..Comforting, here. Certainly not relaxing. The opposite of cf relaxing- Tubbo had nothing but the craving to do something. But it was..Welcoming. It was strange. They hadn’t felt so- so unbothered, since..Ever, really. They liked it.

Tubbo wondered if it could stay this way.

Tommy wondered what the hell they were about to get themselves into.

#bets against the void fic #whitelist au #mika-posts #mcyt fic #mcyt au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic

233 notes · View notes