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mirisss · 4 months

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The Beauty Inside of You

Ateez OT8 x afab! reader

True Beauty (K-drama) inspired. In this, all members of Ateez are the same age as (Y/n).

Warnings: Bullying (both physical and verbal), low self-esteem, angst, sort of mentioning suicide (not saying it outright but saying something like “thought you were gone forever”).

Wordcount ≈ 2.8k

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

Cherry’s Café is one of Seoul's most popular cafés. Located in a small and cozy building is a family-run café that has grown into one of the city’s most loved cafés. The (L/n) family opened the café 22 years ago just before their firstborn child was born, now 22 years later, the family has three children. (L/n) Jaehyun, the oldest, (L/n) Yunjin, the middle child, and (L/n) (Y/n), the youngest. (Y/n) is still in high school while her older siblings are studying at university but most of the time, they work at the café along with their parents.

(Y/n) is a sweet and nice girl who focuses on her studies, she has a nice friend group at school. She isn’t one of those loud kids, she’s more on the quiet side. This is why most people were surprised when they found out that (Y/n) was dating the resident bad boys of the school, the eight boys known by their ‘gang’ name, Ateez.

Kim Hongjoong, Park Seonghwa, Choi San, Kang Yeosang, Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung, Choi Jongho, and Jeong Yunho, also known as Ateez. The eight resident bad boys, while it’s known that they have been in a fight or two, mostly people call them bad boys because of the way they dress and the fact that they feel so, untouchable.

Everyone was surprised when Ateez began hanging out with (Y/n) and her friend group, and soon enough when Ateez announced that they and (Y/n) were dating. Most people just congratulated them and moved on, while some people couldn’t accept that (Y/n) had landed the eight hottest boys in school. However, these people, mostly girls, couldn’t let others see their distaste for the relationship so they pretended to be nice until they were alone with (Y/n).

“Ya, (Y/n), you ugly bitch!” (Y/n) quickly looked up at the mirror to see who was behind her in the bathroom, finding a group of 5 girls that she had seen around school but never really interacted with. “What?” (Y/n) was confused, why were these girls cussing her out? “What? Don’t play dumb. You're an ugly bitch who doesn’t deserve to live,” “I’m not playing dumb, what have I ever done to you?” The group laughed mockingly while glaring at (Y/n). “You stole our boyfriends,” “I didn’t know you guys had boyfriends,” “Ateez were ours, not yours, but now you’ve stolen them,” The girl who appeared to be the leader of the group pushed (Y/n)’s shoulder harshly so that her back bumped into the sink behind her.

“They have never said anything about past girlfriends or boyfriends,” Just as the girls were preparing to continue the argument, someone approached the bathroom door so the group dispersed and went out. (Y/n) thought the interaction was weird but she shook it off as a one-time thing. However, she was wrong. Each day, it seemed like those girls harassed her more and more. It started as just verbal harassment but the more (Y/n) stood up for herself, the more agitated the girls became which resulted in their abuse turning from verbal to physical.

The first time they turned physical wasn’t too bad. Once again, they were in the bathroom. (Y/n) was backed up against a wall, the leader of the group held a lukewarm cup of water in her hand that she threw in (Y/n)’s face. It stung but fortunately, it wasn’t boiling warm so no real damage was made. “Break up with them or this will become worse,” The leader said as she glared at (Y/n). “Woah, look at her face, so ugly,” Another one of the girls proclaimed loudly.

Because of the lukewarm water, her make-up had been ruined, revealing red-blemished cheeks. The redness came mostly from the warm water but also from light acne. The girls laughed at her and mocked her for her ‘ugly’ face. “Shut up, there’s nothing wrong with my face,” The girls left laughing like hyenas after that. (Y/n) cried a few tears as she tried to clean herself up.

Each day the bullying became worse. But she didn’t say anything to her family or her boyfriends. The Ateez boys noticed that she was dressing differently from before, more long sleeves and pants rather than t-shirts and skirts. But they put it up to winter approaching, the cold weather requiring warmer clothes.

“(Y/n)-ah, sweety, want to go see a movie after school?” “Sure, Yunho. Which movie should we watch? Are the others joining us?” “Mm, Mingi is coming and I think Hongjoong’s coming too. We’re thinking of watching that new comedy movie or the new horror movie, any movie in particular that you want to see?” “I don’t care, as long as I’m with you guys I’ll be happy!” Yunho pulled (Y/n) into a tight hug as they laughed, soon enough their teacher came and Yunho had to move to his own seat.

Later that day, (Y/n), Yunho, Mingi, Hongjoong, and Jongho who decided to join them, were standing in line to buy their tickets and snacks. The group of girls who bullied (Y/n) followed them to the cinema, upset that (Y/n) didn’t seem to take them seriously. The girls walked over to (Y/n) and the boys, sickly sweet fake smiles on their faces as they pretended to be friends with (Y/n). “(Y/n)? Omg, so nice to run into you here, oh, and some of the Ateez boys too!” Hongjoong noticed the uncomfortable look in (Y/n)’s eyes as she noticed the girls. “Hi, I’m Yunho. Are you friends with (Y/n)?” “Yes, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed us before,” The girls tried their best to flirt with Yunho as he was the only one to give them any attention. “We have to go now, goodbye,” Hongjoong said before he pulled his s/o’s with him, leaving the cinema.

“Huh? Weren’t we gonna see a movie?” Jongho questioned. “Yeah, but I think I rather do it at home,” Hongjoong muttered as they continued walking. After they were far from the cinema, he came to a stop, turning to look at (Y/n). “Who are those girls?” “I don’t know, they go to our school, I never really talk with them,” “You seemed uncomfortable when they came around,” “I just don’t know them, that’s all,” The boys bought (Y/n)’s explanation and went to the boys' apartment to watch a movie.

A few weeks later, (Y/n) was in charge of closing up her family’s café as her parents and siblings were away at a meeting. With only five minutes left until closing time, the café was pretty much empty. The sky was dark outside, the wind cold and harsh as winter was just days away. She was cleaning up behind the counter when the bell over the door rang, indicating that someone had walked inside. She turned around with a smile, ready to welcome whoever this last-minute customer was. However, her smile dropped as she was met with the disapproving glares of the girls from her school.

“Hello ugly,” “Welcome to Cherry’s Café, how can I help you?” “You can help us by disappearing, you disgrace of a human being,” “We close in 3 minutes, do you wish to buy some muffins or a cake?” (Y/n) tried her best to keep her cool and act professional, but the girls were making it hard for her. “Whoops,” The leader of the girls pushed a beautiful cake off the counter onto the floor. “No!” (Y/n) exclaimed. “Wow, you are one clumsy girl,” Another one of them said as she proceeded to take some muffins and cupcakes and throw them on the floor. Another girl took a cupcake with a lot of frosting on it, walked over to (Y/n), and harshly smudged it into (Y/n)’s face. “What a messy girl, how can you represent a nice place like this when you look like a pig?”

The girls continued tormenting (Y/n) by trashing the café, throwing cakes and sweets all over the floor and some on (Y/n). Even taking the water (Y/n) had prepared to use to mop the floor and pouring it over (Y/n)’s head. Sooking her in half-dirty water. (Y/n) began crying, seeing her family’s beloved café trashed, and hearing all the insults the girls were throwing her way. One of the girls took up her phone and began recording (Y/n), who sat on the dirty floor, crying, begging them to stop.

“Please stop, please,” “Oh? What was that? You pig, this is your mess, hmm? Pigs belong in dirty pigsties after all,” “Remember, you’re nothing more than an ugly pig,” The girls themselves couldn’t be seen in the video, only (Y/n). Once they had ruined every single cake and sweet in the café, they left. (Y/n) stayed on the floor crying for a few minutes before she got up and began cleaning up. Not wanting her parents to find the café trashed.

2 days later, the bullies posted the video of (Y/n) crying in the café on the school’s home page and all the social media that they could access. Almost everyone at school had seen the video, and while they didn’t find (Y/n) as ugly as those girls said, they laughed at her for looking so pathetic. As she walked through the corridors people laughed at her, some even making grunting noises to imitate a pig. (Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore and ran away crying. She ran out of school, just running as far as she could.

(Y/n)’s head teacher had seen the video and immediately called her parents to inform them of the situation. “Mr. Kim, what is this about? Has (Y/n) done something?” Her mother asked, worried after being requested to come to the school instantly. “(Y/n) hasn’t done anything, this is about a situation that involves your daughter and some other girls who are suspected of attending this high school. Let me show you a video that was anonymously posted on the school’s page,” Mr. Kim showed them the video, (Y/n)’s parents almost began crying as they saw how their youngest daughter was being treated. “As of right now, we don’t know where (Y/n) is, her friends told us that she ran out of school after some people made fun of her in the corridors,” “Oh, this is terrible, we have to find her,” Her parents tried to call her but (Y/n) wasn’t answering. She had turned off her phone, not wanting to see any more mean comments about her.

Seonghwa, San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were hanging out at Ateez’s place with a close friend of Wooyoung’s, Changbin. They had decided to ditch school that day and just chill at home. Changbin was using his phone, just scrolling through social media when he came upon a video with a girl that looked fairly familiar. “Hey, isn’t this (Y/n), your girlfriend?” He showed the other boys the video. “What the hell? Yeah, that’s (Y/n),” “Who the fuck did this to her?” All of them felt their blood boiling as they saw the tears falling down their girlfriend’s face. Seonghwa picked up his, dialing Hongjoong’s number. “Have you seen the video?” Was the first thing Seonghwa asked as Hongjoong picked up. “Yeah, just saw it, do you know where (Y/n) is? She’s not picking up our calls” “I might have an idea,” Seonghwa said before they hung up. Seonghwa sent the address to Hongjoong before they all hurried to try and find (Y/n).

After about an hour, the eight boys had grouped up and finally, they found (Y/n). She was sitting in a small park that not many people went to. She once mentioned that she would go to this park when she was feeling down. (Y/n) said that she used to hang out at that park with her siblings when they were younger. “(Y/n), baby,” Wooyoung said as he walked over to her, enveloping her in a gentle hug. Soon enough, the entire group had joined the hug as (Y/n) cried.

“Why didn’t you tell us that they were bullying you?” San asked, his eyes just as teary as (Y/n)’s. “I thought I could handle it, it wasn’t that bad in the beginning, but then it just became worse and worse,” “You should have come to us, we want to be there for you,” Yeosang said as he caressed (Y/n)’s cheek, wiping away some of the tears that stained it. “I know, but, I just, I just wanted to be strong,” “Asking for help is also being strong,” Mingi said as he pulled off his coat, putting it over (Y/n)’s shoulders. When she left the school she didn’t have her jacket with her so she had been sitting in the park in the cold without a jacket.

“Come on, I think you should go home. Your family must be worried sick about you,” Seonghwa said. The boys walked her home, knocking on the door as they arrived. Yunjin was the one who opened the door, she immediately threw herself at (Y/n), pulling her into a tight hug. “(Y/n), omg, you’re okay, we were so worried, mom and dad are out of their minds, they thought you were gone forever,” “Mom! Dad! (Y/n)’s here,” Jaehyun yelled as he came to the door to check who it was. Their parents came running out and joined Yunjin in hugging (Y/n). Jaehyun soon joined the hug too.

“Darling, we were so worried. The school called and they showed us this terrible video of you being bullied at the café, and then you didn’t answer our calls and you were gone for hours,” “I’m sorry mom,” “It’s okay, honey. You’re home now, it’s all fine,” “Thank you for bringing her home boys,” (Y/n)’s dad said as he turned to the eight boys that stood a few steps behind them. “No worries, we were worried about her too. I’m sorry we didn’t call you the second that we found her,” Jongho apologized to them as Ateez all looked down at the ground.

“Would you boys want to join us for dinner?” (Y/n)’s mom asked as she smiled with teary eyes at the boys. (Y/n)’s family might not have known about her relationship with the eight boys yet, but all they knew was that these boys cared deeply for (Y/n) and (Y/n) for them. “We’d love to,” Seonghwa answered. The dinner helped (Y/n) cheer up as both her family and her boyfriends joked around to make her smile. Hongjoong later asked (Y/n) if the girls they ran into at the cinema were the ones who had bullied her, and when she confirmed his suspicion he went to the teacher and told them who the people behind it were. The girls were then suspended from school and their parents had to pay a fine to the café because of what the girls had done. Ateez also took it upon themselves to make sure no one else would hurt (Y/n) ever again.

“Am I ugly?” (Y/n) asked one late night as she and Ateez sat in the boys’ living room. “Why would you ask that?” Yeosang proclaimed as he shook his head. “You’re the prettiest girl in the world, so no, you’re not ugly,” Yunho said. “It’s just, those girls kept calling me ugly and a pig, just because I have some acne, so I don’t know, I guess I began feeling like I actually am ugly,” “Don’t listen to them, you are beautiful just the way you are. No matter if you’re tall or short, have clear skin or not, no matter how you look on the outside you will be pretty because you are so wonderful and beautiful on the inside,” Jongho answered as all of the boys looked at (Y/n) with nothing but love in their eyes. “I love you guys,” “We love you too,”

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stupittmoran · 5 months

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In 1992 a man that had no record of violence whatsoever was approached and entrapped by the feds illegally.

After he was sent the wrong court date and failed to show up, his innocent son, dog, and wife (while holding their infant daughter) were all slaughtered because of it.

Randy Weaver and his family lived in an isolated cabin in the mountains of Ruby Ridge, Idaho.

An undercover federal agent targeted him and entrapped him into selling him a sawed-off shotgun.

The agent ingratiated himself to Weaver for weeks. He kept asking Weaver if he would sell him a shotgun. Weaver initially hesitated but finally agreed. Then, the agent asked him if he could saw it off first since he didn't have the tools. Though he warned FBI guy it was illegal to do so, he was nice enough to do it anyway. The agent then also had him drive out of the way across State lines to add charges.

After Weaver was sent the wrong court date and (understandably) failed to show up, the feds used this as permission to do anything and everything they could to take him down.

Marshals called in military aerial reconnaissance and had photos studied by the Defense Mapping Agency. They prowled the woods around Weaver’s cabin with night-vision equipment. They had psychological profiles performed and installed $130,000 worth of long-range solar-powered spy cameras. They intercepted the Weavers’ mail. They even knew the menstrual cycle of Weaver’s teenage daughter, and planned an arrest scenario around it.

On August 21, Marshals outfitted in full camouflage and carrying machine guns trespassed onto the Weavers’ property. Three marshals circled close to the Weaver cabin and threw rocks to provoke the Weavers’ dogs. As Weaver’s 14-year old son, Sammy, and Kevin Harris, a family friend, ran towards the barking, a marshal shot and killed his dog. Sammy Weaver fired in the direction those shots came from. As he was leaving the scene, a marshal shot him in the back and killed him. Harris responded by fatally shooting a federal marshal who had fired seven shots at them.

Snipers from the FBI Hostage Rescue Team were sent in the next day and ordered to shoot to kill any adult male outside the Weaver cabin. Randy Weaver was shot in the back after he stepped out of his cabin. As he struggled to return back inside, they shot and killed Vicki Weaver (his wife), who was standing in the cabin door holding their 10-month old baby.

From the testimony of Randy Weaver: "On August 22, 1992, completely without warning of any kind, an FBI sniper shot and killed my wife, Vicki. He was using a .308 caliber sniper rifle with a specially weighted barrel and a 10-power scope. He was using match grade ammunition. He had years of training to kill. I heard him testify at the trial that he wanted to kill. He shot my wife in the head and killed her. She was not wanted for any crime. There were no warrants for her arrest. At the time she was gunned down, she was helpless. She was standing in the doorway of her home. She was holding the door open for me and Sara and for Kevin Harris. She was holding Elishe a our 10-month-old baby girl, in her arms. As the bullet crashed through her head, she slumped to her knees, holding Elisheba tightly so she would not drop her. We took the baby from her as she lay dead and bleeding on our kitchen floor."

Weaver and Harris, who never fired any shots at FBI agents, surrendered after an 11-day siege.

Thankfully after all of this was said and done, the FBI conducted an "internal investigation" and guess what? They did nothing wrong. SHOCKER.

Randy Weaver and his daughters filed a wrongful death suit for $200 million which was related to the killing of his wife and son. In an out-of-court settlement in August 1995, the federal government awarded Randy Weaver $100,000 and it also awarded $1 million to each of his three daughters.

The government did not admit that it had committed any wrongdoing in relation to the deaths of Sammy and Vicki.

The moral of the story is, if the government wants to kill you, they'll find a way to do it. They are not your friend. They do not have your best interests at heart.

If you are an enemy of the state, if they don't like you, the Constitution seemingly doesn't apply.

These federal agencies (FBI, CIA, ATF, USMS, etc.) Do whatever they want, stay in power indefinitely, and have effectively unlimited funds. Not only should they be defunded, they should be abolished entirely. They do nothing but make us less safe and are wholly incompatible with a free society.

The fact that people want to give the government more power, more control, and take away our means of defense (gun control) is absolutely beyond me. If they could pull this off in the 90's they can do it now. I assure you.

Never give up your guns. Your government will kill you.

Dylan Allman on Twitter/X

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supertrxshwrites · 7 months

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Not really sure if you actually take request, but...

What about Damian x reader where they are on a date, and have been dating for a while, but his family doesn't know. They are at a cafe when Damian sees one of his brothers walking by. Obviously once the brother sees Damian and this girl, they put the pieces together. They call the rest of the family and sort of just stand nearby to spy on Damian, while he tries to act normal with his girlfriend who's back is turned to the rest of the family.

Basically when the reader is looking at damian, damian = :)

When reader looks elsewhere damian to his family = >:(

okay im sorry if this is really short anon. lemme know if i should write more i'd be happy to!! :D

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You and Damian met at the pet store. It sounds silly but that day you saw him sitting in the kennel with all the puppies as you were buying your cat treats and your life was changed forever. You both clicked immediately, your friends would tell you that Damian was strange and mysterious but that’s why you liked him. After hanging out for about three months bonding over your love for animals he finally asked you to be his girlfriend it was hard for him he had never done anything like this before, but he did his best. Which was bringing you a puppy with a special collar that read “be mine?” You found it sweet and couldn’t say no.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𓆩♡𓆪

You and Damian decided to go to a nice little cafe for a date. The air was crisp, the leaves were falling and fall was finally starting in your eyes, you couldn’t wait to bust out the sweaters. Damian ordered coffee for you both as you sat at one of the cute study tables by the window. As Damian starts to walk back with his and your drinks, someone catches his eye through the window.

“..what the hell?” He says softly before realizing it’s no other than his older brother. Dick.

They spot each other at the same time through the glass. This causes Damian’s initial panic, he had been so peaceful living his life without any of his brothers finding out about his girlfriend and now the one who couldn’t keep a secret if it were beaten into him has a front-row seat to it all.

Dick starts waving as Damian walks to the table where you and him are sitting he’s a bit annoyed but tries to save face as he sits down.

“They didn’t have the pumpkin cold foam so I just got you whipped cream I hope that’s okay,” he says with a smile as he hands you your coffee and a muffin.

“Awe..that’s okay though, I’m happy with either,” you say with a big grin.

Almost on cue you set down your bag and lean to get out your laptop. Dick is standing outside of the window behind you, miming at Damian.

“Who is she?” He mouths through the glass pointing at you

Damian angrily waves his arms for Dick to go away.

“Get out!” He says in a slight whisper.

“You want me to get out?” She says a bit confused as she sits back up and Damian’s arms are waving around.

“Uuuh no no baby not you.” He says with a sweet smile

“I saw a fly and was trying to shoo it away” he laughs nervously before sitting down.

You boot up your laptop and start checking your emails a bit.

Dick holds his cell phone up to the glass showing the group chat.

“Shit,” he says under his breath before eagerly patting his pants and looking for his phone. Once he fishes it from his jeans it’s blowing up the group chat is blowing up.

“ GUYS DAMIAN HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!” Dick sends

“Pics or it’s not real” Tim sends

“Yeah right. There is not a girl on earth who would tolerate demon spawn” Jason sends

1 Attachment.

“Baby what’s wrong?” you ask as Damian’s face twists into a frown.

“Uh..it’s nothing,” he says clenching his jaw as he sets his phone on the table face down

“Just family stuff” he looks a bit annoyed

“Are you sure? If you have to go it’s okay” you say as you close your laptop

“No no it’s okay, my love” he smiles at you before giving you a peck on the lips.

He looks up behind you and his face turns pale as he realizes Dick, Jason, and Tim are standing outside cheering and doing chest bumps and fist-pumping.

“For fucksake” he says rolling his eyes

“Okay, what the hell is going on?! You’ve been giving me mixed emotions all day!” you stand up and angrily point at him.

Damian looks like a scared puppy seeing you upset which is a rare sight.

“From the second you sat down, you’ve been pouting and overall grumpy!” you tear him a new one before realizing the three guys behind you on the other side of the glass.

“What the hell- who are they?” you ask taken off guard. Laughing a bit at the three guys acting like complete fools outside of the cafe.

“My idiot older brothers,” he says pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Guess it’s time for you to meet the family,” he says waving them to come in.

𓆩♡𓆪

#Damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne #dc comics #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #Tim drake #anon #supes writes #anon ask

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evilvvithin · 1 year

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Enemies to lovers

I wrote about the reader being kidnapped and König had to save her and now I thought 'how about a switcheroo' so here ya go. I know the plot might be silly cause obviously that wouldn't happen irl, but it's a fiction and idc könig is rotting my brain constantly for so long I don't even know who I am anymore. Special thanks to @xellrani for being my sweet beta reader ♡

Summary: Believing you leave your military past behind and just enjoy some rest and peace, you decide to travel. Unlucky (or lucky) for you, there's a secret mission going on and you get unwillingly involved. Trigger warning for smut, mentions of torture, military stuff, interrogation, restrains, kidnapping, blood, wounds. It's NSFW, König x f!reader (4, 596 words). AO3 link

"Excuseer mij," a male bumped into you trying to get past you in the crowd. Taking pictures of the beautiful river in Amsterdam, you didn't even realize you're standing right in the middle of the road. Netherlands? Yes.

Finally leaving the military base you called home for so long behind you, you had all your time to yourself. You didn't have to get a new job right away as you had more than enough money saved and you were exhausted. Really exhausted. All that was needed in your life now was peace and some time alone. During your time in the military, you've visited many countries across the whole world but never had a chance to experience them. You decided to change that now. You loved traveling. Getting to know different cultures, people, history, seeing the beauty in different corners of the world without having to think about the worst while fighting cartels or following orders no matter how wrong they were.

And there you were, heading slowly back to your AirBnB you booked for two weeks. You chose the right time of the year as well, it wasn't hot but at the same time it wasn't cold to stay outside the whole day comfortably. Your steps were so slow multiple people bumped into you after the man, but you just wanted to see every inch of this town. Inhaling the overwhelming smell of coffee and something sweet, you followed it and ended up standing in front of a "street dessert" shop. Many people stood around holding cups of coffee, enjoying themselves. You couldn't help yourself, seeing the steam coming out of the cups and the smell? You had to join them.

Leaning at one of the small tables, you watched all the people hurry past you. Everyone was seemingly late somewhere, no one took a second to appreciate the aesthetics of their own town. 'I guess they saw enough of it when they live here,' you thought to yourself. The cup was nicely warming your hands up. You noticed the same man from before, wearing the same black facemask, the one who said excuse me after he bumped into you. He was staring at you but the second you turned your face to him, he quickly looked away. Your military self started to analyze the situation, 'why was he in such a rush 10 minutes ago when he's now standing here staring at me? Why does he wear the facemask?' You scoffed. This was already in your past, you were done with anything military related. There was no need to immediately think about someone stalking you. Covering his face? The man's more likely just ill. 'Maybe there's something weird with my hair?' You immediately reached for your hair instinctively just to find out they were completely normal. Looking back at the guy, you realized he wasn't there anymore. You shrugged it off and decided to keep walking, you wanted to be at your rented apartment before it gets dark. Of course you wanted to experience the nightlife here, but not today.

Walking to your apartment, you felt a weird anxious feeling. Someone's eyes were buried deep into the back of your skull. Turning your head slightly, there was that man again walking behind you. With the quick glimpse you got, you noticed he wasn't alone this time but three other men were in the line with him, all wearing the same black facemasks. Coincidence? You didn't think so as the street was rather empty. 'The whole group covering their faces so they can't be recognized?' Hearing some voices behind you, you assumed they talked with each other. Crushing the empty coffee cup in your fist, you increased your pace and glanced over your shoulder at the men once more. They did the same, closing the gap between you and them. 'Shit -'

Everything happened so fast you didn't even have a chance to yell for help. They were right behind you within a second, one of the men grabbed you, covering your mouth. His hand was large, it could've easily covered your whole face. He locked your arms into your chest with his arm and pulled you off the street into a smaller side one quickly.

"Target acquired," one of the men said into his coat. He must've had some small microphone there.

You didn't panic, no. You've never been in a situation like this, but you went through a special training in case you ever got held hostage. Training how to act and how to defend yourself. The only thing keeping you from trying to fight the men was that one of them, the one holding you locked in his arms completely unable to move, was enormous. You had no chance against him. Not only that but you couldn't fight all four, especially since you now knew they were some kind of trained agents the way they talked and acted, or even the military. The feeling of not knowing what was going on, what they wanted and 'why me' was the worst. Maybe a mistake, maybe something from your past time in the army? You didn't know about anything bad you've done, but you knew more than well that you didn't have to do anything wrong nor illegal to be taken hostage.

You calmed down and didn't resist as much as you were able to, it was the best thing you could do in your head. Staying in the side street for a long time, you didn't even see anyone walk by. It felt like all the people in the big, busy town disappeared. The behemoth man holding you still in position, with your arms locked on your chest, none of them said a single word since the walkie talkie message. It felt like an eternity but then you heard a car engine getting closer and closer. A black car stopped right at the end of the side street and they rushed to it, the man pushing you forward to it. The car's windows were all darkened and it didn't surprise you a bit. Stuffing you inside, you thought they probably didn't expect their mission or whatever this was to be this easy.

"Hand me the straps," the man holding you said.

Strapping your wrists together to the point you felt it cutting into your flesh, you were on the edge of fighting back and getting rid of them. To your surprise, the behemoth of a man ended up loosening the straps a bit after realizing they were too tight. Your mind was a mess, 'why would he do that at all?' Before you could think further about the situation, they forced you to inhale something from a napkin. You knew what it was, you knew you'd go unconscious within a couple of seconds. Some kind of dark cloth hood was thrown over your head and the car's engine started, tires screeching as the car rushed away, but you were already dozing off.

"What do you mean he doesn't want to be a part of this?" You heard some distant voices while coming back to your senses. "He's the head of this operation he has to interrogate." You opened your eyes slowly but the hood was still over your head, making it impossible to see anything. "Tell him to come, he should at least be here."

Doors opening and closing, heavy footsteps, muffled inaudible words, distant thumping. You started to feel anxious as you couldn't see what was going on, not knowing where you were. Moving your arms you found out they were strapped to some kind of a pole behind your back. It reminded you of heating pipes. Feeling the cold stone under you with your fingertips, you must've been sitting down on the floor. Your neck tightened suddenly and you coughed, making all the voices come closer to you till you could hear them clearly.

"She's awake!" Someone with a deep raspy voice and accent shouted. "Let's start it."

The cloth blocking your view was removed and you saw three men standing in front of you. 'So it is military,' ran through your mind as you saw all their gear and helmets. Their faces covered, you couldn't tell if they were the same men from the street but you did recognize one of them. The tall, intimidating one. People his visage aren't as common. It must've been him. He was wearing a sniper hood now with a helmet on it.

"Your name, little one?" He asked.

'Little one? Is he mocking me?' You scoffed in your mind and decided to remain calm and silent. The whole room you were in was silent, except someone tapping their fingers on the table in the back. The hooded man walked closer to you and loomed over you, blocking all light.

"Your name." He repeated. This time he wasn't asking nor playing around, he was giving you an order.

His size and rough voice filled you up with nervousness but also a morbid curiosity. How did he look under the hood? You wanted to know who the voice belonged to. His eyes, you felt naked with them piercing through you. You felt like you couldn't have any secrets.

"Y/N," you replied finally and your voice cracked. Your throat still somewhat tightened, must've been due to what they made you inhale before.

The hooded man narrowed his back and turned to others, all of them exchanging looks with each other. "Do you live here?" He asked you after a while.

"I'm on vacation."

You saw his eyebrows furrowed more and more as he kept asking you. Questions about your country, year of birth, home address. You didn't know why you willingly answered all those questions when your plan was to not tell these men anything at all, but he made you feel somehow secure. As long as you cooperated, you had a feeling you'd be fine.

'Expect torture and humiliation, the worst of worst. They have no good intentions, all they say are lies. Tell them what they want to know and they let you go? The biggest bullshit. Never trust them, never cooperate. Dying is better than being captured.'

Lieutenant's words were burnt into your memory from years ago when you were still in training. You had no idea what made you so talkative. Maybe the feeling this whole thing was some kind of misunderstanding? Maybe the fact they didn't treat you harshly yet? Maybe the way the behemoth of a man loosened your straps in the car before?

He walked to one of the men and whispered something to him, after that they nodded at each other. "Horangi, with me," he said and left the room together with the named man, leaving you with the rest of the group.

You wanted to ask what was going on, but their face covers and sunglasses made it impossible to determine if it was okay to talk except being questioned and you weren't gonna risk it. The two men stayed behind doors talking and you did everything you could to catch what they were talking about. Without a chance. The walls and doors were too thick. It didn't take long before the two came back inside.

"Everyone out," the hooded behemoth of a man ordered everyone. They seemed confused at first, but they did what he wanted. "Whatever König says," one of them sighed out before leaving.

'König?'

"Did you lose your IDs recently?" He asked and crossed arms over his chest.

"Actually… yes," you blinked.

"And you have a military background, correct?"

"Yes," your reply was hesitant this time.

"Scheiße," the man cursed through gritted teeth.

"Can someone explain to me what's going on finally?" You felt like losing your mind.

König, as they called him, looked at you for a long time, thinking, before finally talking. "Cartel boss. We are after a cartel boss who is currently doing business somewhere in Amsterdam, apparently using your identity. We've never seen her face so we worked with what we had: IDs and credit cards. We don't even know for sure if it's a man or woman but we need to capture her. And with your army experience…"

You blinked at him repeatedly. You? A cartel boss? "Could you at least untie me? It's rather uncomfortable."

He walked to you, pulling out one of his knives and sliced the straps around your wrists carefully. When you saw him offering you a hand to stand up, you accepted it without hesitation. Someone was running outside the room, the rapid steps getting closer and closer. One of the men from before entered the room holding a laptop in his hands.

"Suspicious transaction," he said between breaths and gave you a look. "Her address."

König stared into your eyes before grabbing the laptop of the man's hands to see if it's real. "Follow me," he then ordered and pointed at you. "You too."

Taken away by the whole situation, you walked behind him without single question. What you thought was an underground secret complex or something similar, was in fact a simple basement in a large house. It was a home everyone on the street noticed, but at the same time it's what made it the perfect provisory base. Right under everyone's noses, not trying to hide.

"Bravo acquired another target," one of the men upstairs said as soon as you all walked up the stairs. "We're ordered to stay for a little bit and keep an eye out. They'll want her back." Seeing you blink in confusion, he added: "her, the boss."

"Bravo confirmed identity?" König asked and was met with a loud agreement. "Come with me," he turned to you and his voice immediately softened.

You noticed how tough and rough he seemed, eager for action. Ordering the soldiers with a deep, commanding voice, towering over everyone making them nervous just by his presence. Except the one he called Horangi. He didn't seem bothered by anything König did or said, it was like he knew him more than the others. Horangi knew deep inside he wasn't like that to the core and you had the feeling as well. Analyzing people's behavior and speech, making psychological profiles, was part of your job in the military before so noticing König immediately went soft and calm when interacting with you was really noticable to you. There was still something more about the man you wanted to get to know even though you just met him and not exactly in a good circumstances.

"Where are we going? Am I held captive still or what?" You asked while almost having to run to keep up with his fast paced walking.

"We need to keep you safe, for a while at least. You got involved now, it's not smart to let you run free. Captive? You could say so." He chuckled.

"Why not stay here then? It's not safe?"

"Es ist sicher," he paused for a while, "but there's a safer place."

You decided to just follow him and see where you end up. You weren't afraid of him or the rest anymore, what you were afraid was their enemy. Somehow using your identity, your credit card and they apparently were in your rented apartment? Your best bet was to stay with this big man right in front of you.

After taking a car ride, the two of you stopped in front of another house. This one was way smaller.

"You can stay here until it's safe," König said after entering the house with you.

"How many houses do you have in Amsterdam?" You asked.

"You didn't expect us to have just one base, did you?" He laughed. "We have one more place, some apartment. The house you were in, that is the main base for the current mission. This house is in case our main base gets revealed."

"So I'm staying at your place?"

"Basically, yes."

"Do you always wear the hood? Everywhere?"

"Natürlich, protecting my identity and my friends. Especially on missions like this one, it's necessary."

It made sense, you had your face covered during missions in terrain as well. You wished to see his face, the curiosity was driving you crazy but it will have to wait for later. Maybe you never get to see his face.

~~~~ one week later ~~~~

Snoozing your alarm, you forced yourself out of the bed. König wasn't home, he must've been at their main base. The boss they captured before refused to tell them anything, obviously. They tried torturing her to get at least something from her, but she remained silent. She'd rather die than reveal the cartel's plans. You helped König and others with coding and breaking down safety systems to track information online. They knew about your military past but they assumed you were just an ordinary soldier going through training. Little did they know you spent almost your whole life in the army, achieving all kinds of education and extra training to raise your value. You were doubting your decision to leave your army job as well. All the thoughts about how you were finally free, had time for yourself and could live in peace? In fact, you missed it. The action. Helping König with his task helped you realize that.

The coffee machine beeped. Grabbing a hot cup of the black liquid, you sat down in the kitchen and stared out the window. It was about to rain. Your thoughts took a turn back to him.

König.

The two of you got closer within the week you were here. He got comfortable around you, being really talkative and actually sharing deep details about this mission or his life. You assumed he wasn't really the type to share things with someone he barely knew, but for some reason he trusted you. You'd lie if you said he was just a man who kidnapped you before. You grew a huge liking for him and you didn't even see him without his hood yet. Sure, you could've sneak up on him when he slept but you wouldn't do that. 'He probably sleeps in it too anyway,' you laughed in your mind. Sipping your coffee, you couldn't get him out of your head no matter how hard you tried to focus on life outside the window. His voice, his caring gentle personality, his hands. He had beautiful hands. 'Uhhh,' you shook your head and body. You didn't know why, but König made you feel certain ways.

Staring out the window into nothingness and daydreaming while finishing your cup, you missed the doors being loudly slammed opened and closed. Hearing heavy footsteps behind you, you turned around just to see König squeezing his arm and bumping into a door frame on his way to the bathroom. You knew something was off and immediately ran after him. He was hunched over in front of the mirror, his gear and hoodie already on the ground next to him. He only wore a shirt, pulling up its sleeve further up to inspect a large bleeding wound under his shoulder.

"What happened?" You gasped in shock seeing all the blood drip down his arm.

"The warehouse where they supposedly stored drugs at," he said through gritted teeth. "It wasn't empty as we expected. It's just a scratch." He opened the bathroom cabinet and grabbed bandages. "Scheiße!" He cursed as the rest of the bandages fell to the floor.

"Let me do it," you said and collected them off the floor, grabbing the one out of his hand too. "What about others?"

"They're fine, at the main base, locating other warehouses that belong to the cartel." He sat down at the edge of the bathtub and let out a deep sigh, placing hand at the side of his ribs. "It's nothing," he said when he saw your raised eyebrows.

"Need to clean it first," you said after looking at the wound on his arm. He nodded and clenched his jaw.

Pouring disinfectant at the wound, all his muscles tensed up but he didn't let out a single noise. When the wound was clean, you started to wrap the bandages around his arm carefully.

"It's just bruised," he said after the pain of cleaning his wound faded away and he no longer had to clench his jaw together.

"You need to rest, at least for today." You finished bandaging his arm, keeping your hand gently placed over it stroking his arm with your thumb.

König looked at your hand, but didn't say anything. It felt nice, he wanted you to continue. "Show me the bruises," you said.

"Mir geht's gut," he said but pulled the shirt over his head anyway, revealing his chest and abs. You felt a wave of heat run through your body as your eyes flew over his chest, but your concern for his well being was stronger.

Touching the purple ish parts of his ribs, you felt him wanting to move away but he remained still. "You were right, it's just bruises. No broken ribs," you said.

Your fingers slowly traced from his side to his chest. König was boring his eyes into yours, but didn't stop you. You were feeling the scarred skin under your fingertips, his muscles tensing up reacting to your touch.

"Rest you said?" König said. His voice sounded so calm and deep suddenly. "Shower is great for relaxing and resting."

You were confused at his words, but he was right and you nodded. He grabbed your hand out of nowhere, standing up and pulling you into the shower corner with him. You didn't even have time to say anything before he threw his hood away and his lips were locked onto yours. God, his lips were unexpectedly soft. Closing your eyes, you returned his hungry kisses. You wanted to stare at his now uncovered face but you couldn't help it but give in to the lust you felt. König ran his hands down to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze before moving up your waist to your back. His hands were large and warm making you almost melt under his touch. He undid your bra with a single move like a pro and grabbing the edge of your shirt, he removed both your bra and shirt. He didn't want to leave your lips at all and only broke the kiss for a split second to pull the shirt over your head.

"Kön-" you tried to speak out but was silenced right away. 'König, I want you,' you finished in your head.

Your arms around his neck, you pulled him deeper into the kiss. He was getting more touch, impatient. Within the time you were with him, you saw his focus on the mission, on his work in general. You imagined he didn't have any woman for some time, but what could you know? Running your hands down his chest to his pants, you unzipped them and teased the bulge through his boxers. He moaned into the kiss breaking it, throwing his pants and boxers away to join your shirt and bra on the ground outside the shower. While he was at it, you quickly got rid of the rest of your clothes as well. Now both of you fully naked, König turned on the shower. His eyes jumping all over your body. Waist, boobs, collarbones. He was hypnotized by your body. So were you by his own. His scars, his muscles. He looked even taller and bigger without clothes. You couldn't keep your eyes from his already hard member, wondering if you can take him whole. Your pussy was already prepared to take him, all wet and screaming for attention. For release.

"You're gorgeous," König whispered and placed a hand on your thigh while his other hand traced down your neck and then collarbones, watching the water run down your body.

Your hands placed on his chest, you wanted to feel every muscle on his body, every scar. You wanted to ask about every single scar's backstory, but you're gonna have time for that later. Running your hands down to his cock and stroking it, he shivered under your touch. He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't want to behave like a wild animal, but you gave him no choice. He needed to feel you. He needed to connect with you. Now.

Grabbing your ass, he pulled you up and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck together with your legs wrapping around his waist. Even being higher now, you still felt so small compared to him. His dick pressed against your entrance now, you only moaned out his name in despair. Not breaking eye contact, he slowly slid into you. He wanted to break you, make you tremble, not able to walk but he definitely didn't want to hurt you. You felt your insides stretching around his size, not able to tell pleasure apart from pain. He was fully inside you now, waiting for you to adjust a little before starting to thrust into you slowly. It didn't take you long at all before you moaned out his name loudly. You were full, feeling him hitting your cervix often. Your body heated up so much the water now seemed cold. König caressed your neck with kisses, sucking onto your skin roughly and leaving marks there. You knew you won't be able to last long with this man but he felt the same.

He might've not let anything be known, but you were driving him crazy for a while. Your hair, waistline, eyes. Your military experience. The fact you knew weapons, the fact you were capable of being with him on a mission. The way you didn't scream and panic when he held you in the side street and then interrogated you. Your caring and kind nature.

The shower corner was filling up with steam and moans of you two. "Fuck!" You gasped out as your walls started to wrap around his cock tightly.

"I'm close," König groaned, his hot breath leaving a cold breeze on your wet neck.

You felt your arms getting weaker as they were wrapped around his neck the whole time. You were starting to feel dizzy as his thrusts became quicker and sloppier. You were gasping for air under his thrusts, feeling the climax coming. He thrusted into you a few more times, filling you up with his load immediately leaking out of you. You trembled under the pleasure, your vision blurry. Was it thanks to him or just the steam that was all around you?

"Mein Gott, love," he whispered, his voice all raspy.

He carefully let go off your legs. The second you stood on them you felt how weak they were. Still breathing heavily and unable to speak, you turned off the water. König placed his hands on the wall on each side of your head, locking you between them and towering you with his large frame. You finally got a good look at his face. His big, blue eyes that made him look tired all the time. His soft lips. His strong jawline. His sharp nose. You heard your heart beating in your head, deafening your ears.

"You plan on going somewhere?" König said and smirked, turning you around to face the wall and turning the water back on. "Long showers are the best," he whispered right behind your ear and pulled your ass towards him.

You bite your lip feeling the tip of his dick found your entrance again.

"Ruin me," you moaned.

"Ich werde."

#könig #call of duty moder warfare ii #könig x reader #cod fanfic #könig x you #smut #fanfiction #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #angst #call of duty #mari.fic

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archiveikemen · 11 months

Text

'Wicked Love Blooming In The Dark Night' Story Event: Chapter 2

Roger Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

???: Thank you so much for waiting, Roger!

The person who approached Roger was a young man with brown hair.

Young Man: This is…?

Roger: Ah, she’s my lover. She insisted on sticking to me today, so… yeah.

Kate: Huh? I did n—

Young Man: Ah, I see! Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, and I’m a pharmacist!

Kate: I’m Kate. Did you and Roger arrange to meet here?

Young Pharmacist: Yes! Ever since I first met Roger at this tavern, we became great buddies.

Young Pharmacist: At first, I felt embarrassed because I was a mere pharmacist, compared to the Royal Physician.

Roger: Haha, you say that and yet you’re the one inviting me for daytime drinking these days.

Outsiders must never know about the existence of Crown.

Therefore, “royal physician” must’ve been the alias Roger used with outsiders.

Urged by Roger, the young pharmacist sat down and started talking happily.

(Fufu, they seem to be very close.)

Roger: This guy may be young, but he’s one talented chap. Rumour has it that the drug you buy from him is exceptionally effective.

Roger: Apparently, even long-term chronic illness can be cured instantly.

Kate: That’s like magic!

Young Pharmacist: Magic? Ahaha, right. If only I could really become a magician who magically heals the sick.

Roger: …

The three of us continued our lively conversation—.

…

(Leaving his wallet with someone to pay the bill for him. How convenient.)

I paid the bill and went outside to look for Roger.

(Ah, found him.)

Kate: Roge—

(Huh…?)

In the alleyway, Roger slipped “something” into Ben’s hand.

It was money.

Roger: Then, I’ll see you “again”.

When Ben left, Roger noticed my presence.

Kate: Roger, just now—

Roger: Ah, I purchased some of that miracle drug from him and gave him advanced payment.

Kate: Drug?

Roger: If the drug he made is truly that effective, we should have it in stock for the palace or Crown.

Kate: I understand that, but why did you have to do it in such a shady place?

Roger: Purchasing drug for the palace means that there will be less of it available for the people. Won’t that look bad if done openly?

(That's a reasonable explanation. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with that.)

(But something feels off.)

Kate: … Roger, is that really all?

Roger’s eyes that rarely ever showed his emotions flickered.

Roger: You suspect that I betrayed someone. … Right?

(...)

Roger: It's up to you to decide whether I’ve betrayed anyone, and whether my actions were good or evil.

Roger: Haha, your thoughts are written all over your face.

Roger: Young lady. You want an answer from me, but it’s not going to be that easy.

Roger: Even if I do give you an answer, you can't be sure that it’s the truth, can you?

Roger’s eyes were fixed onto me — like a predator eyeing its prey.

(He’s warning me. I’ll get myself into trouble if I go any further.)

Crown’s purpose was to fight evil with evil, they existed in a dark world that no one should step into.

(I feel like I’m being skinned alive and having all my weaknesses exposed.)

Putting my safety at risk was not part of my job as a fairytale writer, I was sure that no one would hold me accountable for backing out.

(However, I agreed to become a fairytale writer to save my life.)

(... I want to be accountable for my own decision.)

If not, I might lose myself in this dark world.

(Therefore…)

Kate: … I’m not going to back out. I said it myself that I wanted to spend the entire day by your side.

Roger: … Huh?

Roger: I like it, this side of you. Courageous and earnest. … I’m almost moved to tears.

Roger ruffled my hair with his tough hand.

Kate: H-Hey

Roger: Haha, you’re so cute. Come on, let’s get going. You said you’re not chickening out, right?

Kate: Y-Yes!

…

(Where are we…)

We arrived at an abandoned warehouse after sunset.

And then—.

Young Pharmacist: Sorry to have kept you waiting, Roger. Here’s the drug I made.

The young pharmacist took the drugs out of his leather bag and held it out to Roger.

Roger: So this is the cure-all drug called— “blue pill”.

Young Pharmacist: Yes! Taking this drug can cure you of all your ailments instantly.

Young Pharmacist: That’s why the price is a little bit on the high end—

Roger: The price doesn't matter to me. But is this all the stock you’re selling?

Young Pharmacist: Huh?

Roger: I was thinking that it'd be good to stock up on this “superior quality” drug at the royal palace.

For a split second, I thought I saw the look in Roger’s eyes change.

His gaze was sharp, calm, and yet angry at the same time.

Young Pharmacist: Of course! I still have some of this drug in stock.

Roger: Where are you storing them?

Young Pharmacist: Where, huh. … Erm, it's a warehouse I rented nearby Euston Station.

Roger: Euston, A501XXX—

Young Pharmacist: Wha.

Jude: I already did my research on that place. The trading company has also been eyeing that area.

I turned in the direction that voice was coming from, and saw Jude and Ellis standing on the second floor.

(Why are the two of them here?)

(No way— that means this is…)

Roger: We’ve got the evidence. Go to that warehouse and seize all the “blue pill”.

Ellis: Understood.

Jude: Tch, that place is far from here. How troublesome.

Young Pharmacist: What’s all this about, Roger?

Ellis: … Roger.

Ellis tossed Roger’s hunting rifle down from the second floor.

Roger caught it and pointed it at the young pharmacist’s forehead.

Young Pharmacist: !?

Roger: Doctors and medicine exist precisely because illnesses aren't so easy to cure.

Roger: And yet, you had the cheek to take advantage of and trample on that.

Roger: — Save your apologies for the afterlife.

— BANG.

(Ah…)

(... Wh… wha…)

My field of vision was dyed bright red with blood.

My heart hammered hard against my chest, I stood there petrified as Roger put down his rifle and approached me.

Roger: I took the initiative to approach that pharmacist, built a trusted relationship with him, then I betrayed and killed him.

Kate: …

Roger: Here’s the question, young lady.

Roger: Was my betrayal evil or justified? What are your thoughts on it?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil story event #roger barel #niki translates

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aamy2100982 · 11 months

Text

I was thinking symbiot3 + jealous dylan

It's not that hard to explain. I'm going to make up this baseless thing that Eddie took Flash's soul out of wherever he was and gave him a symbiotic body so he could live. So now Flash is alive once again and he and Eddie and the symbiote are in a romantic relationship 🎉

Dylan and Eddie can't spend much time together because Eddie is still a God and Dylan is now Venom, they're both out there saving people and they see each other on the weekends at most.

if Dylan already had to wait forever to see his father again, now he has to share it too. worse still, he has to share it with a guy Dylan doesn't know, who was dead a few days ago and now suddenly occupies an important place in his life. Dylan never saw the possibility of his parents being open to a polyamorous relationship because in general they were always closed to showing affection to other people, but now they both act like Flash is the most attractive man in the world, Dylan is so confused, upset and jealous

Dylan is so foolish that he doesn't even try to be friends with Flash, no have contact with him even if they live in the same house, Dylan ignores Flash, eats at different times and when Flash speaks to him Dylan answers him in curt tones. The symbiote scolds Dylan for being so bad with Flash, but Dylan becomes more annoyed. It doesn't take long for Eddie to find out about this whole situation.

Dylan refused to talk to his symbiote father, he refused to talk to his new stepfather and he talked a little with Sleeper, but it really didn't say much about it, the only one left to talk was Eddie and in fact he was the only one Dylan listening.

the typical situation. They are in Dylan's room, sitting on the edge of the bed, Eddie puts his arm around Dylan's shoulder to get him to pay attention, but Dylan avoids looking at him out of embarrassment.

Eddie apologizes for being so careless, he knows that having a stepfather is a decision that affects Dylan's life, it doesn't matter if it's for better or worse, it's a complicated thing anyway. It's hard to use the "you have to understand that I want to rebuild my life" argument because Eddie and his other one are still together, Flash didn't arrive because of a separation, the three of them are a union.

Eddie tries to talk Dylan about talking to Flash, getting to know him a bit, he doesn't want to force his son to do "father-son recreational activities" because he knows that that kind of thing can annoy Dylan more, so he has to go slowly. They made a mistake bringing Flash home like it was nothing, but they couldn't leave him lying on the street either. After died, Flash lost all his properties and having to explain to someone else like Flash that before he was dead, now he is alive would be really complicated. Dylan agrees to try to connect more with Flash. Dylan is aware that he has been immature and in the process has made his now three parents uncomfortable. Dylan is entitled to be upset, but Flash hasn't done anything wrong to make him deserve so much scorn, either.

Dylan took a long time to accept Flash as his new father and I doubt he would ever call him "dad" but at least now he is nice to him and sees him as a supportive father figure

#eddie brock #venom symbiote #flash thompson #dylan brock #sleeper symbiote #symbiont3 #symbrock #symbflash

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dreadfulsanity · 5 months

Text

Sinnerman

"I had a weird fucking day. Wakako threw something my way. Guy wanted someone to kill someone. So I asked who the target was. She didn't know. Now, I have no problem putting bullets into skulls of scum. Like Jataro Shobo. Seriously. The more I learn about the guy the more I wish I could kill him again. Utter piece of filth. But I digress. So I asked her what if the target is some nice, loving father of three. 'Then you will make the right decision, V.' Ugh. So I decided to hear the guy out at least. "

"Turns out, he was after the killer of his wife. Joshua Stephenson. Yes, the one who's all over the screamsheets lately. Passion of Christ nonsense. Looks like he got off death row by making a deal with corpos. Bill couldn't let that slide. Before you ask, yes, I agreed to help. Though I was hoping I'd still find an angle I could play. Anyways, we waited in his car until the target came in sight. No one said anything about NCPD though. We followed the van. I spare you the details. We caught up to them. Some badge with a stick up his ass threatened to shoot. Bill couldn't care less. Stormed with drawn weapon towards him. Tried to get in-between them, but... well, Bill is dead. And now Joshua wanted to... hire me to spend the day with him. Isn't that nice? There was also some corpo rat from the studio among the trio. I agreed, because... I was curious. Plain and simple. Btw... I apparently have a reputation among the NCPD. Dangerous to be around were the words Vasquez used. I'm no danger to badges, am I?"

River chuckled. "Well, I'm not a badge anymore, so I couldn't possibly say." He kissed her neck.

"Oh, we're getting to that. Apparently your old buddies like to gossip like school girls. We arrived at some house in SD where Joshua wanted to visit someone. Asked me to come with. Vasquez was giving me the stink-eye. You know me. I took that as a challenge. Maybe got a bit cocky. Called him cute, but that I have sadly only space for one cop in my bed. 'Ex-cop.' he snapped back at me."

"What?" Another chuckle.

"Told you. Apparently we're the talk at the NCPD."

"What did you say to that?"

"That you have bigger cojones than all the other badges at your precinct combined. And definitely bigger balls than Vasquez. With a very snotty look around his crotch region. He just grunted. I chuckled and went in after Joshua. Apparently that was the house where the mother of one of his victims lived. And he was besties with that victim's sister. She... forgave him. It was through her that he found god. Made me nauseous. Mum came home, didn't find it in her heart to forgive him and threw us out. Next stop was a diner. The corpo bitch wanted to get rid of me. I did not oblige. Made her mad. Worth it. We talked a bit more, Vasquez and Joshua wolfed down some chow. Then they left for the studio and I came here."

Val poured herself another whiskey.

"You know, this whole thing is insane. I mean, he's obviously bad people, and got sentenced to death for it. But the corp making bank on his suffering... they want to crucify him and record a braindance of that. What the hell is wrong with people? And then, as I was making my way home, the corpo bitch called. Begged for my help. Apparently Joshua has second thoughts. She wants me to set him straight. She'll be in for a rude awakening. He belongs back on death row. Not in a BD studio."

"Jesus, V. Your days are never boring, aren't they? Maybe I should come with you someday."

"I'd like that. Could do some NCPD scanners. Gigs that won't ruffle your conscience. Actually... I get a lot of mini gigs from my fixers, looking for missing persons. But for today, I'm done. Think about it. I'd like to have you around some more."

She drank the whisky in one go before grabbing his hand and pulling him off the counter.

"But for now..." She smirked seductively and guided him up the stairs to her bed.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #ficlet #just some thoughts rattling around in my brain #river ward #river and v

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justsome-di · 1 year

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Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 1

haha I said I’d post this next month but I’m posting this month. You can also read this chapter on Wattpad or on Patreon (subscribing to Patreon will also give you access to chapters a week ahead of public posts). Updates every Friday!

Summary: Alex and Damián get set up on a blind date but aren't exactly on the same page--one thinks it's real and the other is under the impression it's an ordinary appointment. After all, Alex was promised he was getting a favor, and Damián is an escort who got paid to be there.

After realizing it was all a prank, set up by Alex's co-workers, they set out for revenge. Their plan: Alex will hire Damián to accompany him to an upcoming Halloween office party, convince his co-workers they genuinely fell in love and refuse to let themselves become the butt of the joke.

Alex hadn't been on a date since he was 17, and it had ended with Mary Ellen throwing her slushie on his shirt in the middle of the mall. He wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but he figured right then and there that maybe dating wasn't for him. And he had lived by that for the next 18 years.

When the day came that his co-workers told him that they had set him up with a friend, he thought maybe it was worth another shot. Mary Ellen had been long ago. Surely, Alex had a little more charm to him than he had when he was a teenager. At least, he hoped so. It would have been truly demoralizing if he had another slushie poured on him in his 30s.

Andrew, Martin, and Stu were the only guys who had ever tried to talk to him around the office, and Alex appreciated that a little bit. Even if the three of them tended to be dicks with off-color jokes and questionable comments about dates Andrew and Stu had had the weekend before. Even if Alex had secretly named them The Office Douche Bags because they had never proven themselves to be anything but douche bags.

But Alex didn't get much say in who became his co-workers of almost 10 years, and he didn't know how to tell the guys to leave him alone when they got to be too much. Especially when they were going to do more for his dating life than he had done for himself.

"Marcus is so sweet and super cute," Andrew said. "I mean, look at him."

He leaned over Alex's desk and showed him a single picture of the date in question. It looked like a semi-professional portrait. He was posing in front of a window in what looked like a stylishly barren apartment.

Marcus had short, curly hair. His teeth were unnaturally white. He showed them all in a wide smile, perfectly aligned and shining. His clothes were tight, and his body was slim. Skinny, really. Alex thought he was pretty cute and assumed he was probably some aspiring actor—so, he was living a much more exciting life than Alex was at the moment. And he was definitely out of Alex's league.

Andrew insisted it was all taken care of. He apparently knew a waitress who had taken care of a dinner reservation. Andrew had even left his own credit card on file, saying he owed Marcus a favor from a while back so this was his repayment. Alex tried to protest, but Andrew insisted. He owed Marcus big time.

Setting him up with a guy was one half of the deal. Paying for the date was the other half. Really, it was all fine. The reservation was for Friday at 6 at some semi-bougie restaurant. Marcus would be expecting him, and it was important that Alex didn't talk about work. There were other things to talk about. Boring office chat would kill the mood, and Marcus hated talking about his job.

A hundred red flags should have sprung up, but Alex was too busy looking at Marcus' picture to see them. He asked if it was really okay (it was), why the guys were being so nice (Alex was the only single gay man ("I'm not gay, I'm bi.") they knew), and why Marcus needed a date (he was having a hard time with dating apps, apparently, and wanted to give blind dates a try).

Alex could pay them all back by making sure there were good drinks at the Halloween party in October. Alex would mention it to the party-planning committee, though he wasn't sure what he could pull. No one wanted a repeat of the year before when Megan from human resources vomited into the potted tree by Alex's desk. It had been Alex's favorite tree. He had been allowed to pick it out all by himself, and he dutifully watered it every week. Its death had been slow and by Thanksgiving, when it showed no signs of perking up, Alex put it out of its misery and set it out for trash pick-up.

But for his first date in decades, Alex would point out the unspent money in the budget and nudge the ladies to pick up some higher-quality booze and maybe an extra bottle or two. He'd hide the other potted plants before the party and promise to clean up any vomit.

He went home that Friday with his stomach in knots. He was awfully lucky to land a date with a guy like Marcus. Surely, he would fuck it up.

Alex had no hobbies, no friends, and he was lacking in the good looks department. The only thing he had going for himself was that he was at least self-aware. He knew he was mediocre, and he didn't try to be anything else.

The most he could do was dress well and try to make his hair look nice in the mirror before he left. He tried using mousses and pomade, but nothing could transform his hair into looking like anything that wasn't flat and straight. His arms ached from holding them over his head, and he was frustrated.

At the very least, he supposed, he looked well-groomed. A close shave and combed hair made him look like he at least knew how to take care of himself. Maybe he wouldn't woo Marcus, but he wouldn't scare him off.

Eve leaned in the doorway of the bathroom and watched him fuss and primp.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"I don't care. I need to pee."

She shoved him out of the way and into the living room of their minuscule one-bedroom apartment.

"You look fine," she yelled through the closed door.

Alex wished she wouldn't talk to him while she peed, but there was nothing he could do about it. Her voice could be heard no matter where he was in the apartment.

"Thank you," he shouted back.

"Who is this guy again?"

"His name is Marcus. I don't know anything else about him."

The toilet flushed, and the sink ran. Eve pulled the door open and stared him down. She had such a serious face for such a young woman. She always had. Even when she was a baby, she always looked at Alex with an expression that seemed to say she was tired of his bullshit. Her new undercut made her look all the more edgy. It was a good look especially knowing she was actually quite timid and dorky.

"He's going to steal your kidney," she said.

"What?"

"You can't meet up with a total stranger at some restaurant. I was listening to this podcast the other day where this guy went on all these blind dates, but he would drug all the women once they started to hook up, and he sold their kidneys on the black market."

"First of all, he's not a stranger. He's a friend of a guy I know. Second of all, that won't happen. We're just getting dinner. And no one actually steals kidneys. That's not a real thing."

"Dude, I literally just listened to a podcast about it! You're going to end up waking up in a bathtub full of ice."

"I'm begging you to stop."

"Share your location with me before you leave."

Alex huffed about it, but he did pull out his phone and sent her a link to track him. If he did end up losing an organ, he could trust her to find him. She had the skills, he believed, after her continuous binges of true crime podcasts.

"Are you staying in tonight?" he asked.

"Don't I always?"

"Sometimes you see friends."

Eve flopped herself onto the beaten-down pull-out couch that also served as her bed. There was a mason jar across the room that pocket change and spare dollars got shoved into every few weeks, intending to be savings to get her a new pull-out couch to sleep on. They had a total of $53.24 according to a sticky note on the side. Though, Alex was sure Eve had pulled a wad of dollars out to get pizza the night before, so it was hard to tell if that was an accurate number.

"I go to meetings," she said. "I don't think my fellow club members really consider me a friend."

"They could be friends. You just have to, sort of, open up. Ask them to the dining hall or something after a meeting."

"Eh. I'd rather not."

"Then die alone. I was just going to remind you to lock the door if you go out."

Alex couldn't really lecture her about making college friends. He never had college friends. He didn't have friends currently.

But meeting with Marcus was making him a little optimistic in that respect. He might have finally been getting somewhere. If things went well with Marcus, they could become friends. If he didn't absolutely bore him to death, maybe Marcus would want to stay in contact with him. And Alex was happy with that outcome. A friend.

He donned his best jacket which was a 5-year-old pea coat that was pilling in the back and was no longer the dark black it had been when Alex's mother bought it for him. It was a little too heavy for the weather. New York hadn't plunged into the bitter cold winter yet. Regardless, it was Alex's best coat, and he thought the occasion called for something a little dressy.

Leaving Eve alone with a video game, Alex walked to the restaurant early and sat at the reserved table alone. He tug on a hangnail and ran his hands over his hair. His collar was too tight one minute but the next, he was worried he looked sloppy and re-buttoned it.

He ordered two glasses of wine and right as they came, right when he began to worry that he would be sitting at the table alone all night, Marcus was led in by the hostess.

Marcus was just as handsome as he was in his picture. He wore a nice, burgundy sweater and tight jeans. He was taller than his picture let on, and his legs were so long. Alex felt self-conscious immediately. There was no way he deserved this.

Marcus smiled with his too-white teeth. He raised his shoulders as he sat like he was sheepish about the whole thing. All of his movements—the way he had grabbed the back of his chair to pull it out, how he laid his hands on the table—were so delicate and calculated.

Immediately, Alex knew that Marcus was out of his league. Marcus looked so good and was so graceful. He was put-together, and Alex was awkward. And stumpy. He was feeling very stumpy after watching a human incarnation of a gazelle walk through the restaurant.

But Marcus began talking to him like he definitely wasn't out of his league, and that made Alex feel good about himself. And more importantly, Marcus didn't seem the type to steal a kidney.

Unless the charisma was part of the kidney-stealing plan.

There was no kidney-stealing plan, Alex told himself. Eve was just getting in his head.

"Tell me about yourself." Marcus swirled his wine around in his glass. Alex hoped he had made a good choice going with the second-cheapest option on the menu. He had hoped Marcus was also the type to drink inexpensive wine. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Oh. Uh." Alex didn't have an answer. "Why don't you tell me what you like to do?"

"Okay!" Marcus seemed all too happy to talk about himself. "I like going to shows when I can—musicals, I mean. And other plays. But mostly musicals. But I don't get to do it all that much because it's so expensive, you know?"

"Yeah." Alex didn't really know. He wasn't a big fan of theater.

"So, usually I just do little things around the city," Marcus went on. "I get coffee. I go to a book club. I feed pigeons. I binge Netflix."

Binging Netflix was a conversation Alex could handle. "What are you binging right now?"

"I am a Killer which is that one where they interview all those death row inmates about their crimes. And that Night Stalker documentary. I think it's just called Night Stalker. Whatever it is, I'm like three episodes into it."

"Ooh." Maybe Alex wasn't leaving with both of his kidneys. "Do you usually watch a lot of shows about killers?"

"Yeah, I love them. I also listen to a lot of murder podcasts."

"Oh no."

"I'm sorry?"

"I meant. Like. Oh no. Like in a good way. Like we'll be here all night if we both start talking about it. My sister listens to them all the time."

Marcus smiled and delicately laid his chin on top of his laced fingers. Alex laughed uncomfortably. He was already ruining the night. Well-adjusted people could watch true crime. It was a billion-dollar business after all. Even Eve listened to descriptions of brutal killings on her way to class, and she was, for the most part, normal.

"What do you like about true crime?" Alex asked.

"I like learning how to kill people." Marcus laughed. "I'm just kidding!"

Alex laughed along, forcing it out a little too loud. "I hope so! I really, really hope that you're kidding!"

Alex rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. He re-thought the well-adjusted thing as the waiter laid their plates in front of them. He liked both of his kidneys a lot. He wanted to keep them. He had spent his entire life with them.

"If you really want to know." Marcus cut a slice of grilled chicken on top of his salad to make it a daintier, bite-sized piece. He was great with knives it seemed. "I like true crime because I think there's a lot of advocacy involved in it. You know, when the victims get a chance to have their stories told. Especially when the victims are women or people of color. Or when they talk about how the police look the other way. There's some true crime that gets exploitive, but I think a lot of it is coming from a good place."

"Yeah." Alex nodded. His kidneys felt safe again. "I get that."

"And you know, it's important to be aware of who gets targeted and who doesn't get investigated by police. Cause a lot of the time, police won't really care if someone, like," Marcus waved his hands in front of his face, "me gets killed."

"Right. Right. My sister always goes on about the whole Jeffrey Dahmer thing. Where the police just handed one of his victims back to him."

Marcus threw his head back. "Don't get me started on that one."

But it was too late, and Marcus jumped into a spiel about how the police were willing to look the other way for white men, how it went back centuries, and how serial killers got away with everything because of the systematic racism in law enforcement. Alex listened with more interest than he thought he would have. Usually, when Eve went on her rants, Alex barely listened. He didn't doubt anything she said, but she picked the worst times for her amateur TED Talks. Usually, when Alex was trying to go to bed at night or working on one of his several spreadsheets for work.

There was something about the way that Marcus talked about it all. His delicate hands emphasized his points, his face went through a dozen expressions that were all so handsome. He was so passionate about it, and it was so refreshing to hear a guy talk about something other than fucking women or selling whatever to a record number of clients.

Marcus was still going on about how "the system" was set up to forget about those who were outside societal norms but cut himself off rather abruptly. He finished his comment on how Jack the Ripper would have been caught if he hadn't targeted sex workers, and then sighed.

"I am talking way too much," he said. "You said you have a sister?"

"Yeah. Eve."

"Aw. Eve's such a cute name. Is she older?"

"Younger. She's a sophomore in college. I think that makes her 19?"

Marcus snorted. A snort had no business being so cute. "Good for her. What's her major?"

It was amazing how Marcus knew how to keep the conversation going when Alex let his side of it fizzle out like a dead firework.

"Computer science," Alex said, picking up some momentum. "She's really good at it. She got all of these awards her first year at school, and now her professors are trying to get into all of these internships next year."

"That's amazing!"

"She is flunking math right now, though."

Marcus frowned. "Not amazing."

"It's a calculus class. It's a whole thing. She says it's not even all that important for her major—which I have no idea if that's true or not—but it's still a requirement, and she's worried it's going to tank her GPA."

Marcus ran the tip of his finger over his wine glass. "What even is calculus?"

"No idea. I just know it makes her cry."

"Poor thing. Can she get a tutor?"

"She's tried, but the academic center or whatever is only open when she's in class or working. Her only free time is in the evenings."

"That's so unfair! They can't do night tutoring?"

"Apparently not." Alex drank the last of his wine, hoping it would help him continue this bout of opening up and talking and making good conversation. "But she's smart. She'll figure something out."

"I'm sure she will. And it's sweet that you're so involved."

"Eh, we share an apartment. I hear about all of her crises whether I want to or not."

Something in Marcus' face softened. He looked almost distracted. "You share an apartment?"

"Yeah, it's cheaper for her to commute than to live on campus, and my apartment is close enough to her college that she can walk there. It just made sense for her to move in with me."

"It does."

"Do you have siblings?"

Marcus composed himself. He pulled his hands into his lap and straightened in his chair. "No. I'm an only child."

"Sometimes I wish I was an only child."

"Don't say that. Eve sounds nice."

"She can be. Usually to people who aren't me."

Alex didn't know how to find a way out of the dead-end response. Their meals were finished, and there was no check coming to give them a definitive end to dinner.

Marcus stretched his hand across the table, palm up. He smiled easily at Alex. Alex laid his hand in Marcus', hoping it wasn't sweaty or clammy or that he had misread the signal. But Marcus closed his fingers around Alex's hand and squeezed.

"Want to head upstairs for another drink?" Marcus asked.

Alex didn't know what "upstairs" meant, but he agreed. There could have been a bar on the higher level of the hotel. Maybe a rooftop thing.

Standing with him, Alex noticed that Marcus was a whole head taller than him. Embarrassing.

Marcus led him through the crowd of new guests being seated and nodded to the hostess at the front of the restaurant. He took Alex down the hall and into an elevator. The entire time, Marcus held his hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

It was the most touching Alex had had in years. It was a little pathetic, but he felt so relieved. He had finally met someone nice. He had finally found someone who seemed interested in him. Someone willing to touch him. The little touches meant so much whether or not Marcus knew it or not.

He had started the night hoping for a friend, and he looked to be surpassing that.

The elevator opened and revealed a row of doors. Alex followed Marcus out, a little fear creeping up in his stomach. He realized, as Marcus pulled out a key card from his pocket, that "upstairs" meant a hotel room.

But maybe it wouldn't be all bad. Alex supposed he didn't know if Marcus was from the city or not. He could have just been visiting and was staying in that hotel. It didn't necessarily mean he had just gotten a room for a hook up. Maybe the Douche Bags hadn't given him the whole story and didn't mention that Marcus traveled a lot or something.

The room smelled like a mix of cheap air freshener and laundry detergent. It was icy cold, and Alex wished he could have slid his jacket back on. When Marcus flipped on the lights, and when Alex's eyes adjusted, he saw the room was small with one bed and a bathroom close by.

The door settled heavily into its frame and locked. Alex stayed close to it, his fingers touching the thick wood behind his back.

Marcus laid his hand on Alex's hip, right under his belt. He kept smiling even as he leaned in and kissed Alex.

It was all so forward. Alex should have started asking questions earlier. He should have mentioned his boundaries.

Marcus pulled him away from the door and towards the bed. It was only a few steps, and then they were sitting together, Marcus getting handsier with every second. Alex sat frozen.

Marcus must have noticed how stiff he was because he leaned back and moved his hands from Alex's legs and waist to his hair.

"Nervous?" he asked. He sounded so sweet still. Alex felt bad that was about to let him down.

"I'm just not used to this, I think."

Marcus nodded. "It's okay. How do you want to do it?"

"Um. I don't—I don't know."

"I can lead if you want."

"I don't think I know what's happening."

Marcus stroked Alex's hair with one hand and looked at his watch. He sighed. "I don't want to rush you or kill the mood, but you only have about an hour left, and I don't give refunds."

Refunds? Marcus definitely said refunds.

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Alex swept Marcus' hands aside. "What do you mean?"

The sweet, caring look Marcus had was gone. He looked equally confused. "You paid for two hours, and I explicitly told you there's a no-refund policy when you booked me. You are the right Alex, right? I'm not with the wrong client?"

"'Client?'"

And all of a sudden, it hit Alex like a brick to the face. There was no luggage in the room indicating Marcus was staying there overnight. Marcus was very eager to get Alex in bed. No-refund policies. Client.

Alex screamed, "Oh my god!" and shot up off the bed and backed himself up in a corner.

Marcus also began screaming. "What?" he yelled. "What is it?"

"Are you a prostitute?"

"I'm—" Marcus lowered his voice. "I'm a sex worker. Aren't you my client?"

"No!"

Marcus' face turned grey, and his body deflated. His eyes turned from Alex to the floor in horror. His mouth opened and closed, trying to say something but no sound came out.

"I mean." Alex held out a shaking hand. He tried speaking quietly. "I was set up to go on a date with you, but I didn't pay for it. My friend told me you were a friend of his, and this was just supposed to be a date. Like a real date. I didn't know it was—a—a business transaction."

Marcus stared at him, still silent.

"My co-workers came up to me earlier this week," Alex said, "and they showed me your picture and said they owed you a favor. I had no idea what they were doing. I didn't know they had paid for this."

Marcus took a deep breath. His voice shaky, he tried explaining his side of it, "I got a message from you saying you wanted an appointment. And now that I'm sitting here I'm realizing I really need a better screening process for my clients. I thought you were acting really weird tonight, but I just thought it was part of the experience you wanted."

Alex was in full panic mode. He had unknowingly played a part in soliciting a prostitute. He could get fired. He could get arrested. He was most definitely not talking to the Douche Bags ever again.

He really thought he had made a real connection with someone, and it turned out that it was all fake. Marcus had been paid. He wasn't real. Never mind getting arrested, Alex hadn't been on a date at all. The charming, nice man who he thought liked him was just part of an act. His chest ached. His stomach sunk.

But more importantly, Marcus was staring at him like a deer in headlights now. And Alex thought about how scary the situation must have been for him.

"I'm going to leave," Marcus said.

"Wait. Hold on." Marcus hadn't even begun to move. "I just want you to know that I won't tell anyone."

"Okay."

"Like, I support legalizing sex work and all that."

"Uh."

"Everything you were saying at dinner about prostitutes being pushed aside in society and ignored when they get killed, I agree with all that. It's awful. I think you deserve rights."

"Are you just going to keep me here to ramble at me about how progressive you are?"

"Yes." Alex held up a finger. "Because I want you to know that you're safe."

"Insisting that I'm safe while you're backed into a dark corner talking about how sex workers get killed doesn't make me feel all that safe. You should know people know where I am, and they know your name and where you work—I mean, if any of that was real. I don't know anymore. But people know where I am and when this appointment is supposed to be over."

"I'm sorry. But really, I don't want to get you arrested, or hurt, and I definitely don't have plans to kill you. Can I just ask a few questions? Like who's impersonating me to solicit prostitutes? And how do I stop that from happening again?"

Marcus perched himself on the very edge of the bed. He looked Alex up and down and nodded.

"Only if you stop calling me a prostitute," Marcus said.

"Yeah! What do you prefer to be called?"

Marcus held his shoulders high and lifted his chin. There was still a slight tremor in his frame. "I'm an escort and a sex worker."

"Okay. Can we figure out, together, what happened that someone hired an escort as me? Because I genuinely had no idea you were an escort. I really did think this was a real date. And I have a hunch about who impersonated me."

Marcus nodded again. "Fine."

"Good." Alex slowly approached Marcus again and, not wanting to loom over him, sat on the bed, leaving plenty of space between them. He pulled out his phone. "These are the texts I got from my co-worker Andrew. He said he set up the date between us."

The reservation is at 6. My card is already on file. And don't forget what he looks like ;)

Below was the picture of Marcus that Alex had committed to memory.

"Yeah, that's me," Marcus said. "That's the picture on my profile."

He pulled out his own phone and opened an app Alex had never seen before.

"This is supposed to be you," he said.

He showed Alex a series of messages. They were all very professional. Back and forth about them meeting, reservations, and a Venmo transaction from hours ago that was definitely not from Alex's account. There was a picture of Alex, taken straight from his LinkedIn profile which was also provided in the messages. There was even a picture of Alex's ID, probably taken from files somewhere at work. Stu, after all, worked in human resources. It would have been easy to get any information they needed.

It was horrifying how easily the Douche Bags had impersonated him and how much thought they probably put into it. It was violating and humiliating and scary. It was illegal! Alex could have reported them, and they would lose their jobs. But that would be potentially dangerous for Marcus, and Alex didn't want Marcus mixed up in anything that could get him in trouble.

"So, it was definitely the guys I work with," Alex said, feeling so shocked and scared that his skin was numb. "But all that information they gave you is real. That's where I work and where I live. They probably pulled it from my employee file."

"Fuck. I really have to start requesting a selfie or something."

"It's like you said. People can get away with this stuff because sex workers get overlooked. I can't even do anything at work because then you'd have to get involved, and then that'd get you in trouble."

"It's honestly okay—I mean, it's not. It's really not okay at all. But I know how to patch holes in my system and spread the word about frauds."

"But it's still wrong."

"Well." Marcus locked his phone and shoved back into his tight jeans. His face was still pale. "I can't say something like this happened before. Your co-workers were thorough. I'm just glad we figured out what happened. And I'm glad you didn't flip out—okay, you kind of flipped out. But it could have been worse. I'm glad you didn't try to kill me or anything."

And Marcus smiled, a bit shakily, and Alex couldn't help the wave of heartbreak that washed over him. Marcus wasn't real. All the smiles had been paid for. His date hadn't been real. He was still alone and date-less, and to make it all worse, he knew the Douche Bags were probably laughing at him right about now. It totally should not have been his top priority, but the loneliness Alex had felt for years came crashing back tenfold. It was like he hadn't realized how alone he was until now.

Alex was pissed. He was mourning. He was feeling every emotion possible.

He couldn't help it. He started crying. He pressed his palms into his eyes and tried so hard to not make a scene. But his nose started running, and his breath was getting short and gaspy. He was an ugly crier. His eyes got red and puffy, and his cheeks got splotchy. He didn't want Marcus to see him even lower than he already was.

"Oh no," Marcus sighed.

Alex felt him stand and heard him move across the carpet. Probably trying to get out of there so he didn't have to see Alex's pathetic little display.

When Alex felt the bed dip again with his weight, he uncovered his eyes. Marcus offered him a box of thin, scratchy hotel tissues. His hands shook while he held out the box. Alex wanted to steady them, lay his own hands over them until the last of the fear was out of him.

"I'm sorry," Marcus said. "I'm sorry they did this to you."

Alex pulled a few tissues out of the box and wiped his eyes and nose as discreetly and politely as he could.

"I feel dumb," Alex said.

"No! Don't! If anyone is dumb, it's me. I should have made sure the account was legit. I should have asked for a picture of you holding a newspaper. Like what hostage victims do."

Alex laughed a little. Just a little. "They could have asked me to pose for it, and I would have."

"Okay, well, then I'll have to think of something else to stop this from happening again. I'll ask for a lock of hair or something extreme."

Marcus put his hand on Alex's back, and Alex wished he hadn't. It felt so nice.

"I don't think escorts are supposed to comfort people like this," Alex said.

"You'd be surprised. I've actually comforted a lot of crying clients before. It's part of my job. I'm a professional companion. And you still have me for an hour, so we might as well sit here together."

"I'll try to pull myself together within an hour."

"You better. If not, I'm still leaving. I don't do overtime."

Alex laughed again. It was amazing how Marcus could crack jokes while his not-client was breaking down next to him.

"And I do have plans at 9," Marcus said. "My brother and I have a very serious night of Netflix binging planned."

"Brother? You said you were an only child."

Marcus blinked, tilted his head, and then rolled his eyes. "Shit."

"Do you lie about your family to clients?"

"Of course. Just in case someone ends up being crazy and follows me home or something. Now pretend like you didn't hear me say I have a brother."

Alex wiped his nose and kept his head down. "I'm just curious. How dangerous is it being an escort?"

Marcus sighed. "Kind of dangerous? It depends. Sometimes, I get nervous."

He didn't elaborate, and Alex didn't push.

"But more often than not, people are just looking for someone to spend a night with," Marcus said. "And it ends pretty well. Sometimes there's sex, sometimes we just go out. And there's been plenty of crying, believe me."

"Are you just trying to make me feel better?"

Marcus rubbed Alex's back. It was very soothing. Still, Alex wanted it to stop.

"A couple of years ago," Marcus said, "I had an older client. I think he was in his late 60s. And his wife had died that same week."

"Oh my god."

"He just wanted someone to sit with him. His house was empty, he said. He just wanted someone to eat dinner and watch the news with. And he told me all about her. She was a teacher, they had traveled together, and they had volunteered at an animal shelter when they both retired.

"They didn't have any kids, so it was just him left. He was lonely. The funeral had been earlier that day, and he didn't want to cry alone that night. He found my profile, saw I speak Spanish and can mix drinks, and he hired me. And I just sat with him. I made him tea. I offered him tissues. He made me dinner."

"That's really nice of you."

Marcus shrugged. "It's my job. I do all sorts of things for people."

"But you must have helped him."

"I guess. Maybe. When I left, I said I hoped he would be okay. But I never heard from him again."

Alex was feeling a little better. At least he wasn't a widower.

"You're like a therapist," Alex said.

"Not at all. I'm just a companion." Marcus took a fresh tissue from the box and dabbed below Alex's eyes, cleaning up the tears on his cheeks. "I take care of people's social needs, that's all."

Alex smiled, genuinely. He did feel like he was being taken care of. Marcus smiled back. It seemed like Marcus had calmed down. His hands had steadied. The color was back in his cheeks.

"There we go." Marcus wadded up the tissue and left it on the duvet. "Feeling better?"

"Not a lot."

"Well, you still have a little under an hour, and your co-worker isn't getting that money back. And we have wine that's already been paid for. How about we both stay in here for a little longer until we've totally collected our nerves."

Marcus poured two glasses of wine while Alex tried drying up the rest of his tears and snot and threw the tissues away so the unfortunate housekeepers wouldn't have to pull them off the bed and floor the next morning.

Alex watched Marcus' delicate hands offer him a wine glass. His long fingers held the stem in between the most gentle grip.

"It really is okay," Marcus said. "You can keep crying if you need to."

"I don't want to cry. It feels like it'd give them too much satisfaction."

"Do you mind me asking why you even trusted your co-workers in the first place? They don't seem like they're your friends."

"They're not really. But I've known them for years. It's like a weird work relationship where you just start trusting the people you see every day."

"Aww. They really took advantage of you."

"Yeah. Maybe I'm just too naive."

"I don't think this makes you naive. I just think you were letting yourself be vulnerable and open to a first date. It's admirable. They just fucked you over."

Maybe Marcus had a point. He couldn't hold himself totally accountable. But it felt like he was in school again, totally unaware that he was being picked on until it had gone on for a long time. It was years of trauma resurfacing, and all of his bitterness was aimed directly toward the Douche Bags.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to look at them on Monday. They're probably expecting me to come in absolutely mortified."

Marcus laughed a little. "You could be like, 'It was such a nice night. Thanks for arranging it. Give Marcus a nice review for me. Hope you tipped him well.'"

"God, no."

"Or just plead ignorance. Tell them you had a great date and you think you want to see me again. Pretend like you never picked up on the fact I was an escort."

"They would shit themselves."

"Then do it! Don't let them think they've won this. I give you full permission to use stigma against sex workers to mess with them."

Maybe it was two glasses of wine talking, but Alex didn't think that was a half-bad idea. They didn't deserve the satisfaction of knowing how poorly Alex felt that night.

His bitterness was transitioning into a lust for revenge. He could embarrass the Douche Bags just as much as they tried embarrassing Alex. He was finally going to one-up someone.

It would be payback for high school bullies and the classmates who brushed him off in college. For once, Alex could grab control. He would not be the butt of the joke. He would not be the one uncomfortable or burning with shame.

New energy washed over him. Marcus' motivation and kindness were giving him a burst of confidence he had never felt before.

"What if," Alex said, "I do tell them that I had a nice night and that I did find out you're an escort?"

"Do it."

"And I maybe hire you again some night? But make it look like it's a real date?"

"You want to hire me to pretend to be your boyfriend for people who know I'm an escort?"

"Think it'll work?"

"I have no idea. I've never been asked that before. Usually, I'm hired to mingle with people who don't know I'm an escort. It's sort of the whole goal."

"It would be one more date."

"As long as you pay, I don't care what you have planned."

"It doesn't go against any moral code to trick people like this?"

Marcus raised his eyes to the ceiling and pressed his lips together. "I guess," he said, "if no one is getting hurt, it's okay. It wouldn't be any different than me showing up to parties pretending to be someone's partner, would it? You're not going to plan something malicious?"

"No." Alex laid his wine glass down on the nightstand. He stood and began pacing, wrapping his arms around himself. "I think if we could do one believable date, they'd buy it. And then I say it didn't work out for some totally normal reason."

"But how are they supposed to know about this second date?"

"Good point."

Marcus put his chin in his hands and leaned on his knees. He watched Alex's short walk from one side of the hotel room to the next. He had such large, beautiful eyes, Alex thought. Such a shame he would only see them one more time.

"Do you have any social commitments?" Marcus asked.

"Not any coming up."

"Not even an office party?"

Alex turned on his heel toward Marcus. Yes. "There's a Halloween party next month. Think you can pencil me in?"

"Is it on Halloween?"

"Yes. It starts at 8."

"I'll have to double-check, but I think it'll work. I try not to schedule anything on Halloween because it's my and my brother's favorite holiday, but I'll make an exception."

"Oh. Well, thank you. You don't have to do that."

"No, it's fine. I have a feeling Leo isn't going to be up for much this year."

"Leo's your brother?"

The soft look he momentarily had over dinner returned. "Yeah."

Alex sat back down. He might as well try reaching out to Marcus a little. "Younger?"

"Yeah. He's a senior in college. He's applying to a lot of grad schools, and deadlines are coming up." When Marcus talked about Leo, his voice was gentle, and he tucked his body into itself. "He might want me out of the apartment anyway so he can get work done."

"You guys live together?"

"Yeah. Same deal with you and your sister. He can commute if he lives with me." Marcus gently jabbed Alex in the side with his elbow. "Guess we have some things in common."

They poured another glass of wine for each of them and relaxed a little into the bed. Marcus rested on his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Leo's really smart," he said.

He began telling stories of Leo, how he was always great at solving problems when he was a kid. He was in his high school's honor society, he graduated with honors, he got a great scholarship to college. And now he had an astounding GRE score but was worried about finding a way to pay for his master's and all of the application fees.

It was unfair that someone so smart and who worked so hard was afraid of being able to afford school. Any school would be lucky to have him, but there he was trying to pick up extra hours at work so he could at least let the schools know he existed.

Of course, Marcus said, he was trying to help him pay for everything. He had covered the cost of the GRE for him as a birthday gift, and he was hoping Leo would let him pay for at least a few applications. Marcus was picking up extra clients whenever he could to try to get enough money together. He was always trying to take care of Leo.

He didn't let Leo pay any rent. Alex sheepishly admitted he had asked Eve to pitch in for some of the bills. Marcus told him different strokes for different folks. The city was expensive, and it was hard to make rent on one's own.

Marcus loved Leo dearly, Alex could tell. And he felt bad about thinking that Marcus was going to steal a kidney. He was clearly a sweet man. Alex could have stayed all night in that hotel room, just talking about siblings and the city. He wished the date had been real. He was sure he would have taken Marcus somewhere to keep talking. Maybe coffee. Maybe it could have been very romantic if he got lucky. And the potential for that romance or friendship would eat away at Alex forever.

He wanted to stay up all night with Marcus. He didn't want to leave.

But he only had that one hour. How much was even left? The bedside table clock was unplugged, and Alex dreaded checking his phone for the time.

"Shit," Alex said. "I'm sorry. It's 8:45. Shouldn't this have ended 45 minutes ago?"

Marcus shrugged. "You didn't get the full service tonight, so I think it's fair you got an extra 45 minutes. I don't have any other clients tonight."

"Yeah, but you have that Netflix binge."

"That I do." Marcus pulled out his phone. "Leo will probably be wondering what's happening if I stay at this hotel any longer."

"Does he track your location?"

"'Course. If I end up dead, he'll know exactly where my body is."

"My sister made me turn on my location in case you stole my kidneys."

"Smart girl. I listened to a podcast about that."

Alex didn't want to stand up from the bed, but Marcus got to his feet. He raised his arms above his head and arched his back in a satisfying stretch. His sweater and dress shirt lifted, and Alex saw a little sliver of his stomach. There was a little trail of dark hair above his belt. Alex loved little happy trails on men, but he had never seen one in person.

"Here." Marcus took the hotel's pad and pen off the nightstand. "I don't do this for a lot of clients, but since I apparently have a security issue on the app, I'm giving you one of my phone numbers."

"One of?"

"Yeah, I use one of those messaging apps that gives you a number that's different than your actual number."

"Clever."

"Thank you." Marcus tore off the paper and handed it to Alex. "Text me when you want to make plans for that party. I'll send you prices, and I'm going to make you go through my whole security process again. No offense, but since you technically haven't been through it yet, I'd like to double-check that I have all your current information."

"Yeah. Sure."

They left their empty wine glasses on a dresser. Alex's head was a little light, a little fuzzy. He followed Marcus through the cramped room, watching the back of his head. Marcus ruffled the curls, letting them come a little loose after pulling at them.

Marcus took Alex's coat and held it out for him put back on. Alex put his arms in, holding his breath.

Next, Marcus opened the door for Alex, and Alex thought he'd die from the chivalry. He paused in the hallway for Marcus to make sure the door had locked behind them before taking the dreaded steps away from the room.

"If it counts for anything," Marcus said, "I had a very nice night."

"Even though I cried?"

"I told you." Marcus lowered his voice. "People cry. It's fine."

Marcus called an elevator but didn't move when the doors opened. He gestured for Alex to enter. Alex figured that they were parting there, that their night together was over. Finally.

"I'll text you with the details about the party," Alex said.

"Sounds good."

Alex stepped into the elevator. When the doors began to close, Marcus threw his hand out to stop them.

"Some of my clients know," he said, "my name's not Marcus. It's Damián. That's my honest-to-god name."

"Damián. That's a nice name."

"I'm trusting you with it, Alex."

Damián hadn't taken his kidneys and left him for dead in the bathtub. Alex could return the favor and keep his name close to his chest.

Damián smiled one last time, showing his too-white teeth. The doors closed between them.

#writeblr #writblr #original writing #writing #lgbt #queer #queer fiction #lgbt fiction #nobody ends up dead #nobody ends up dead in a bathtub everyone keeps their organs

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sweetdreamsshifter · 2 years

Text

Grudges - Chapter Three (Stolen Silence)

Newt Scamander x Fem!Magizoologist!Reader

A/N- The story is (hopefully) moving forward now!! Went a lil crazy in this chapter, but I hope that I can continue to release these lengthier chapters as I get further along! Enjoy! :D

Word Count- 3,041

Warnings- creeper pushing Y/N into uncomfortable situations

Y/N = Your Name

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The day had passed and the team was ready to enact their first plan. They were to split into three couples: Tina and Queenie, Jacob and Theseus, and Y/N and Newt. Tina and Queenie would leave first to scout out the market and report to Jacob and Theseus if they discovered it was happening. The boys would then alert Newt and Y/N if they found anything by ordering a gin rickey, if nothing, an old fashioned. Then, Newt and Y/N would meet Tina and Queenie on the dance floor to relay any information they needed to know before they tried to enter. If Y/N and Newt made it in, the rest would stay behind and wait for action. If they were forced to leave, they would wait by the building across the street, and Jacob would be apparated home.

"Remind me why I agreed to be her partner." Newt asked Jacob a few hours before they all left. Any second thoughts about Y/N's personality were immediately thrown from Newt's brain when he'd accidentally spilled a quarter of the potion she gave him on her dining table that same evening.

"Newt! Oh, no no no no. How could you!" Y/N cried, her attempts to fix the table rendered useless.

"How could I? You were the one who never told me this was acidic and would burn wood!" Newt cried back, confusion and anger over taking the rationality in his head.

"I did! You didn't listen! I told you after the rooms were arranged to be careful with the potion!"

"You weren't specific enough!"

"Stop fighting! Y/N, I understand that you're upset about your table, I'm sure we can fix it or find a lovely replacement, but it's not entirely his fault and irrational of you to get so mad at him. Newt, it was an accident, yes, but you could've tried to clean it before the hole was formed, or at least apologized. Now stop bickering like children and act like the specifically-selected, highly-admired magizoologist ADULTS that you both are!" Theseus yelled at the both. If Y/N felt like a scolded child before, she definitely did now.

"She's not that bad, really. You guys just got off on the wrong foot and won't let it go. It's quite funny, actually. You're so similar but refuse to see it." Jacob laughed while Newt didn't, deciding to adjust his sweater vest with a sigh instead and leave the room they shared.

Newt was greeted with the soft sound of jazz playing on the record you had in your living room. He saw Tina and Queenie, both fully ready, sitting on the couch discussing their plan, a cup of tea in both of their hands and looks of seriousness on their faces.

The quiet clicking of heels behind him brought Newt's attention to Y/N. She had on a deep red Gatsby dress with silver sequins and threads of beads that hung to her knees. Her hair was done to stay out of her face but still look nice, and she wore a shade of lipstick that matched entirely to her dress. Newt stood in shock, not recognizing who she was until she asked him to go over their plan and characters for the evening.

"We go in 10 minutes after Jacob and Theseus and avoid everyone until the dance floor. We sit at the opposite end of the bar until we're given the signal, pretending to be on a date until then. If we're given the go to, we meet Tina and Queenie on the dance floor farthest from the bar. We get in somehow and look around. If we find the lethifolds or any information on them, great for us, if not, we create another plan. The main goals are to get out alive and escape unrecognized." Newt recited perfectly, leaving her impressed.

"And here I was thinking you never listened to me." Y/N says to him, sass obvious in her tone as she stirs sugar into her tea.

"I only listen when I have to." Newt said back, the slight glare she gives him making him smirk.

Soon (too soon in her opinion), it's 7:45, Tina and Queenie are gone, and the plan is set in action.

"You alright, doll? You keep pacin' around. Wouldn't want you to trip or, even worse, leave a hole in the floor too." Jacob jokes, trying to calm Y/N's nerves, but just getting a small laugh out of her as she sits down.

"Sorry, I move when I'm anxious." She told the man, who decided to pat her shoulder and offer her a smile instead of words. She was grateful for the comfort, but soon enough, it was just her and Newt in the apartment.

"How should I-"

"We leave at-"

The two stopped talking, waiting for the other to let them talk before speaking over each other again.

"Sorry, you-"

"You can go-"

With a sigh and a wave of her hand, Y/N motioned for Newt to talk first.

"I was just going to ask how I should act like your date." He said, a flush covering his cheeks when Y/N giggled.

"Haven't thought that far ahead, huh?" She teased him, only slowing her giggles when she saw the embarrassment on his face. They might not be the best of friends, but she wasn't totally cruel.

"Stand up." She told him, the sternness of her voice shocking the both of them. Newt carefully stood, averting Y/N's gaze when she came over and flinching when she picked up his arm.

"When we walk, put your arm here-" she places his hand around her shoulders before moving it to the small of her back. "-or here."

"W-what about the rest of the time?" He asked, the flush on both their faces growing.

"Well, we'll have an actual conversation for the first time ever while we wait for our signal. When we go to the dance floor, keep your arm on me somewhere and, just, copy what others are doing, I suppose." Y/N began to step away when she felt Newt pull her back.

"And when we, hopefully, make it into the market?" He asked, his hand not leaving her wrist, his serious face forcing hers to stare back.

"We'll just… keep up the act. Remember, no straying from one another." She said, pulling away to check herself in the hallway mirror.

"Okay, it's time." She said after glancing at the clock. Y/N held onto Newt's arm and tucked her wand into a secret pocket of her dress while he apparated the two to the bar.

They carefully stepped into The Passage Brewery, immediately spotting Tina and Queenie talking to some men in a corner and seeing Jacob and Theseus at the far side of the bar. They took their seats across from the men and began their act.

"So, how long have you been in your field?" Y/N asked. She remembered Tina and Theseus reminding everyone to keep their small talk vague when they first created the plan, making sure to address Y/N and Newt specifically since they had to do the most.

"About 8 years now. But, I've had an interest in the field since childhood." Newt replied, playing with the fingers of Y/N's hand that he held on the bar, making the pair flush.

"Remind me how old you are?" She asks, realizing she didn't know the age gap between her and her teammates.

"I turned 28 in February. And remind me of yours?" He replied, smirking at the soft blush on Y/N's cheeks.

"I turn 26 in October." She said, ducking her head down to avoid the look of humor that she knew would make her blood boil.

"You're bloody brilliant for your age, you know." He said, his voice closer to her ear than she expected, the sound sending vibrations through her body. She quickly looked up, almost bumping heads with Newt in doing so. They laughed the action off before continuing the conversation.

After another fifteen minutes of talking, Y/N grew to like Newt more than before. She couldn't understand why she let herself stay mad at him until they began discussing their first meeting.

"I really am sorry, you know. I realize now that you meant no harm when we first met, but I still acted and thought harshly of you because I couldn't see past that meeting. But, I… I hope we can move past that and become better acquainted." Newt said. Over the course of the last twenty minutes of talking, the two magizoologists had continued to move their chairs closer and closer to one another, not even realizing it.

"They're either really great actors or really stupid people." Theseus said from across the bar, dragging Jacob's attention away from Queenie and to the young "couple" across from them.

"Oh, trust me, they're the latter. They've got to be the most oblivious people when it comes to emotions, and I've talked to myself." Jacob laughed, causing Theseus to shake his head at the man, unable to hide his smirk.

Jacob looked back to the dancefloor to find Queenie giving him the signal that they had news, excusing himself from Theseus, who watched the interaction intently.

"I'd like to apologize too, Newt. It was rude of me to lash out on you … eventhoughIhadareason." Y/N mumbled the last part, earning a laugh from Newt and making her glow with a prideful smile.

"In all seriousness, I am sorry. I hope we can be a better pair now." She said, resting her head on Newt's shoulder. She felt him tense and almost moved away before she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer to him, his head resting on hers.

"I believe we will be." He said the two flushing the same color as Y/N's dress before they noticed Jacob return and Theseus calling the bartender over, making eye contact with the two of them.

"Yes, I'd like to order a gin rickey please. Thank you, sir." Theseus said, watching as Y/N and Newt soon moved to the dance floor, his hand grasping hers as she led him through the crowd to the sisters across from the bar.

"Hiya, doll! Oh, I missed ya!" Queenie pulled Y/N into a hug, whispering the information she had into her ear. Newt watched as Y/N's smile fell slightly and Queenie gave her a disappointed nod of her head. Soon, she repeated the action with Newt while Tina told Y/N everything else she needed to know.

"There's a man who will let you in, but Y/N needs to butter him up with some 'sweet talk and sweet cash', as I quote." Queenie whispered into Newt's ear, making eye contact with Y/N who was just told how much they need to give him to get in.

"He has a one-hundred fifty dollar minimum to get two people through the door." Tina told Newt as Queenie and Y/N started to dance their way over to the man that she needed to flirt with.

"Wait, we're not supposed to separate-" Newt started to make his way to Y/N when Tina grabbed his wrist and held him there.

"She has to go alone or he doesn't listen. We watched." Tina told him, sitting at a booth in the corner.

Newt nodded in understanding, his eyes never leaving Y/N's dancing body. He watched as she approached a man who looked to be around thirty five and towered over many that passed by. He wore a glare on his face, but followed Y/N's figure as she approached him, giving her an up and down before listening to her. The action made Newt sick, and while he trusted Y/N to be safe, he still convinced Tina to walk at least to the edge of the dance floor.

"Hey sugar. A little birdy told me that I could find some interesting goods around here, and I was just wondering if you could tell me how to do that." Y/N spoke to the man in the sweetest voice she could, looking at the man through her lashes, and playing with the collar of his shirt. The man gave her the smallest smirk as he tilted her chin up and whispered in her ear how much she needed to give him to let her and one friend in.

She closed her eyes and swallowed the bile that she felt would threaten to escape if she didn't leave soon, but before she could fully leave, the man pulled her wrist and tugged her to him. She decided she liked it better when Newt held her wrist.

"You know what? Just for you, pretty lady, I'll let you in for only one hundred, just don't tell anyone about this little discount." The man sent her a slimy smile and motioned for her to leave, the brave face she barely held onto immediately slipping as she turned around from the man and started making her way to Queenie.

"Y/N, darlin', are you okay?" Y/N knew Queenie was talking to her and made sure to vaguely answer but all she wanted to do was find Newt and get this over with. When they made eye contact from across the room, it felt as if time stopped. Newt immediately left Tina, who followed behind him still, apologizing to people as he pushed through them to get to Y/N who had started making her way to him too.

When they met at the edge of the dance floor, Y/N could have sworn Newt had smoke coming from her ears.

"I'm so sorry, Newt, I really am. I just had to get us in somehow, but I shouldn't have gone alone-" She was cut off by the man holding her face in his hands, inspecting her face the way a mother would a child. She saw the anger in his features soften as he looked at her face. She felt she could count the freckles on his face, memorize the color of his eyes, realizing the way his eyebrows relaxed when air exhaled through his lips made her let out a breath she was subconsciously holding.

"You don't have to apologize, you only did what you had to do. I, however, am sorry that you had to interact with that beast that claims he's a man. If you don't feel up for it-" Y/N stopped Newt with a shake of her head and an urgent look in her eyes.

"No, we have to do this. I have twenty five dollars on me right now, and I'm sure that we can combine our money as a group to get the other seventy five-"

"Wait, I thought he needed one hundred fifty?" Tina interrupted, pretending to be conversing with Queenie right next to her.

"Gave me a discount. Newt has twenty five, too. I know because he's the one who told me to bring it." Y/N flushed as she looked to Newt, who held his arm around her waist as he'd been asked to earlier in the evening and pretended to be looking around to hide his flush.

"I brought fifty, just in case you ignored me again." He murmured so only the three women could hear him. Y/N flushed stronger and cringed into his side as the two sisters laughed at his words. Y/N leaned off Newt's side too late to notice the way he glanced at her and tried to stomach the strange feeling inside him. Just nerves of losing a new friend, he tried to convince himself.

"I have ten, and I know Jacob has ten. What about you, Teeny?" Queenie asked her sister, subtly giving Y/N the money by holding her hand and pretending to twirl her to the music. When Queenie let go of her hand, Tina handed Newt a folded bundle of bills behind Y/N's back before saying "Fifteen."

"Perfection. We'll see you girls later. If we have an incident, we'll set off blue fireworks." Y/N said, a smile settling on her face as she felt Newt subconsciously rub up and down her back.

"We'll be here. Stay safe you two." Tina said, giving smiles to the two of them and pulling Queenie behind her.

"Well, then. If you'd hand me that cash and trail a few feet back, I'll start this show." Y/N said, holding the hand that Newt held his money in. He gave her hand a slight squeeze as she squared her shoulders and walked towards the man she wanted to bolt from. She made sure to swing her hips and look through her lashes while waving with the hand holding the money once she made eye contact with the terrifying man, who seemed to enjoy the show.

Newt followed a few feet behind like he promised Y/N, but he'd be lying if he claimed to not be stunned by her for a moment before following after her.

"I've got that money for you, mister." Y/N said, placing the dollars in her hand into the man's pocket and dragging it down before holding her hands behind her back.

"Did you bring a friend, little lady?" He asked, getting into her face. When Y/N tried to step back, she felt a figure bump into her back and hold her shoulders.

"Yes she did." Newt said. Y/N nearly turned around and checked that it was Newt behind her. His voice was deeper and held more intensity than she'd ever heard. The only way she knew it was Newt was by the soft rubbing of his thumbs against her shoulders, the same back and forth he'd done earlier when holding her waist. The man looked Newt up and down, giving you a nasty look.

"It's rude for a lady to play with a man when they've got another right along with her." He grumbled, tearing the money out of his pocket and aggressively counting it.

"Follow me." He said, motioning for the younger pair to go behind the door he had been hiding. Before they left, both Newt and Y/N looked at their group, who all watched them enter the secret door.

"And now we play the waiting game." Said Theseus, ordering four waters for them to sip as they patiently watched for their leaders.

#newt scamander fanfic #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x fem reader #fantastic beasts x reader #fantastic beasts fanfic #fbawtft3 #fbawtft2 #fbawtft #sweet dreams shifter #grudges fanfic #grudges newt scamander

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biographydivider · 2 years

Text

Bruno and Camilo singing Candy Store from Heathers. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Sorry in advance. This one is really, really dumb. But I couldn’t resist. More of my fic here!

‘Are we gonna have a problem?’ Bruno started out of his daydreams, dishcloth in one hand, pot in the other. He turned, dripping suds on the kitchen floor. ‘You got a bone to pick?’ Leaning in the doorway was Camilo; arms crossed, smirking. Baiting him. Bruno groaned internally. ‘You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my di–’

“Milo, please don’t swear,” Bruno sighed, stacking the pot on the draining board with the others. “Your Mamá still hasn’t forgotten that you copied me calling Diego Londoño an ‘impatient cabrón’ when you were three.” It was true. Diego Londoño was an impatient cabrón. Not that that mattered to Pepa, of course. She’d brought that little incident up within a few days of him being back. “A-and I’m not singing. You can’t make me.” “Aw, c’mon, Tio!” Camilo said, deflated, as Bruno turned back to his dishes. “I brought the gramophone an’ everything.” He disappeared for a moment, returning with the squeaking, rickety old trolley that Mama’s old gramophone sat on. Resting against it was a bright blue record sleeve, depicting three girls in different coloured sweaters, brandishing mallets. Camilo put the needle to the record, already sitting in place, and it blared into life – the twang of the singer’s ridiculous accent, the blast of the saxophones. Something a little like temptation flickered to life in Bruno’s brain. Bruno loved singing. Even though he was, objectively, terrible at it. His range was about four notes. Anything above that and his voice faltered, wobbled, cracked. Which, you know, was fine. But when you lived in a house with this particular familia – people who could find an excuse to harmonize reading off their to-do lists for the day – it could make a guy a little insecure. Hey, not his biggest problem. Not by miles. But still. Bruno mostly kept his singing for long baths in an empty house. Until Camilo, that is. ‘I’d normally slap your face off,’ spat the girl on the record. ‘And everyone here could watch,’ replied Camilo, smirking. Oh hell. Why not? Call it family bonding time. ‘But I’m feeling nice,’ Bruno said as he whirled, tossing the dishcloth in the sink, ‘here’s some advice…’ ‘Listen up, beeyotch!!’ the two yelled together as the music blared into life. For, like, three weeks when he first came back, Bruno had been wary of Camilo. The kid was confident, sociable, outgoing; everything Bruno had failed to be at fifteen. But then, he was also sarcastic, slightly obnoxious, the bane of his parent’s lives – or at least Felix’s, who often wished his son had a little more tact. And that was little too much like Bruno. It made him nervous. Like he was walking on rocky terrain. It made him think of the cocky, dangerous boys of his own teenagehood; Bruno never knew if they’d leave him be or make his life a misery. Better to spend his free time with shy Antonio or lovable Mirabel, and dodge the attempts at conversation from his oldest sobrino. He was never sure exactly how many genuine barbs his mocking held within it. Then, when Camilo’d caught him belting out that song about how nobody, in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, was ever gonna bring him down (when he was supposed to be dusting the bannisters) he’d almost felt…guilty? Like he’d done something wrong? He was The Madrigal Who Couldn’t Sing, he’d never hear the end of it… The kid had just stood there, mouth open, gawking. Until the harmony hit. Then he scrambled up onto the staircase alongside Bruno and started keening about how no-one mourns the wicked. And that was it. The pair had a shared hobby. Butchering showtunes. They switched parts midway through verses, fighting for the best lines. They missed their cues, but danced anyway. Bruno ground his knuckles into Camilo’s scalp on the line ‘’course if you don’t care, fine – go braid her hair’ and Camilo knocked his uncle with a hip on ‘you just gotta prove your not a loser anymore’; stupid in-jokes, over-played and probably not funny to anyone else anyways, but they did it every time, so they did it now. It was the closest to masculine roughhousing Bruno had ever been. Their favourite part was the call-and-response. ‘You can join the team –‘ ‘Or you can bitch and moan.’ ‘You can live the dream –’ ‘Or you can die alone!’ On this part, their choreography was always immaculate. Shifting their weight from one hip to another, hands in the air, feet moving back and forth perfectly on beat. Bruno grinned down at his sobrino; his eyes closed, feeling the music, just enjoying himself. It was good to see a Madrigal kid just…enjoying themselves. Not feeling pressured to make every single moment of a day important, or meaningful, or productive. Just having fun in the kitchen with his dorky tio. It was nice. ‘Veronica, look,’ Bruno simpered, hands clasped under his chin, eyelashes fluttering. ‘Ram invited me to his homecoming party! This proves he’s been thinking about me!’ Neither Camilo nor Bruno had any idea what half those words meant in context. But the important thing was that meant he was giving Camilo the best bit. The really, really loud bit. ‘I’m sooo happyy!’ Camilo beamed, clambering up onto the kitchen counter. ‘Whhooaahoooaaaoooah-woaah,’ he sang, knees bent, hands splayed to the sides, rising as the pitch did, ‘Honey whatcha waitin’ for –” “AY DIOS WILL. YOU. TWO. SHUT. UP?!? IT IS EIGHT O’CLOCK ON A SATURDAY. A SATURDAY!” The pair winced. “I should…” Bruno said, guiltily gesturing at the dishes languishing in the sink. “Yeah,” Camilo muttered, eyes widening for a fraction of a second as he slipped on his way down from the table. “I gotta…chores, you know.” In the hallway, the record kept playing. ‘It’s my candy store, it’s my candy… It’s my candy store, it’s my candy…’ The pair shared a look, before leaping into position, back-to-back, hands on hearts. Their combined singing, miles outside either of their ranges, sounded like two cats with their tails set on fire. ‘It’s my candy store, it’s my candy stooooOOOOORRREE!!’ “I DON’T CARE THAT WE’RE FAMILY I WILL THROW YOU OFF THE SIDE OF A MOUNTAIN.” “Run,” Bruno laughed, pushing Camilo out the kitchen, “they’ll have to catch us first.”

#encanto #encanto fanfic #Bruno Madrigal #camilo madrigal #heathers #this is the stupidest thing I've ever written #but I thought it was funny #pensandpizza

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rubyleaf · 9 months

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Went through my blog again for the funsies and discovered an old, old tag game from 2016. And boy, am I shaking my head at it. Not only is 17-year-old me hilariously and stubbornly convinced she's straight, she's also very self-deprecating and generally not in a good place.

So I thought: why not answer these questions again, over seven years later, just to see how things have changed?

So here goes. The update.

MOST RECENT:

Drink: Water! I have a glass next to me right now and I'm staying nice and hydrated :) Phone call: Mom, earlier this afternoon, to make sure I'm still healthy and haven't died from acute Moved Out And Living Unsupervised Disease. Shockingly, I'm alive and well. Text: Dad, joking about the Berlin lioness boar thing. I still refuse to believe it was a boar BTW. I don't know what it was, but those pictures do NOT look like a boar.

Song you listened to: Saosin – "You're Not Alone" Time you cried: You know, I genuinely don't remember. Might've been weeks ago. I barely cry anymore these days, except from laughter or the occasional tearing up over a heartwarming scene in a show.

Dated someone twice: No, and unless the circumstances were very special, I wouldn't. If the ship has sailed, it has sailed for a reason. Been cheated on: Single, thriving, in my lane, cannot be cheated on if I don't have a partner. Peace and love on Planet Earth. Lost someone special: Lost touch with many friends over the years. Staying in touch is still hard. But honestly, some of them turned out to not be that special after all in the first place and a lot have stayed too, so really, it's fine. Been depressed: Nah. Been drunk and thrown up: Still don't like alcohol, still don't drink ✌️ Your three favourite colours: Purple! And pink, and the third one…maybe red!

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

Made a new friend: So many. So so many. Fallen out of love: Yep! Laughed until you cried: Just this week alone! Met someone who changed you: I think so! Found out who your true friends are: Yes. And to the people who turned out not to be—thanks for making it easier to watch you leave right now. Found out someone’s talking about you: In the "bringing up my existence" way? Yes. Badly? No—someone probably did, but not my problem.

EXTRAS

How many people from your fb list do you know irl: What Facebook? Do you have any pets: Not at the moment. Hard to keep any in a dorm room. I'd like to maybe get a small dog someday though! Do you want to change your name: Not anymore. When I was little I used to hate my name because everyone kept misspelling or mispronouncing it, but now I like it even if people still get it wrong all the time. Sometimes it still feels weird and othering, in an irrational sort of way, but I can't imagine myself being called anything else. What did you do for your last birthday: Had drinks with some people from my orientation group in one guy's dorm apartment. Casually came out as bi over a game of Never Have I Ever. Wound up at a party even though I had an 8:30 AM class the next morning. Zero regrets. What were you doing last night at midnight? Sitting on my bed and hitting play on the brand-new Meet Me @ the Altar song that dropped last night!!! Name something you can’t wait for: MM@TA EU tour in October! I've been obsessed with them for two years and finally they come here to play some shows and the first time I saw the announcement I legit busted a lip in my excitement. Unfortunately not a hyperbole.

Last time you saw your mum: Last time I visited home—early May I think? What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: Better executive functions so I struggle less with getting stuff done, especially uni stuff and household chores. Currently trying to do something about that, actually! If I'm really lucky I might get an ADHD diagnosis in the foreseeable future and maybe meds…? What are you listening to rn: Fall Out Boy – "We Didn't Start the Fire" Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Often. It's quite a common name where I live! What’s getting on your nerves rn: One word: THESIS. Which I for some reason struggle to do anything about. Blood type: Still unknown! Nickname: Several shorter forms of my civilian name. On here, Ruby. Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Pronouns: she/her Favourite tv show: At the moment: ATLA (and Legend of Korra), Ted Lasso, Good Omens. Probably more I'm forgetting. High school: Graduated in 2016! College: In my Masters! I have an undergraduate degree in law now :D Long or short hair: Long, down to my hips. I used to have short hair as a kid, but I’ve always wanted long hair. Height: 159 cm or 5′2.5′’. Do you have a crush on someone: I try to tell myself that no, I'm just very fond of the person. Platonically. What do you like about yourself: I'm creative and adaptable! I'm good at winging it when the situation requires it, and I usually get things figured out one way or another. I'm a hype woman for my friends, and I like the way I can find joy and excitement in all corners of life. Also, not to toot my own horn but I'm really proud of my style right now! Right or left handed: Right-handed. First surgery: None. Piercing: None. First best friend: Probably Rebecca, in first grade. It’s a shame I moved away, I wonder what she’s doing now. First sport you joined: Ballet, when I was five or six. Kept doing it until early fifth grade, then changed to horseback riding. First vacation: Probably to my grandparents’ vacation home somewhere at the North Sea. Don’t remember a thing though, I was one or something.

RIGHT NOW:

Eating: Nothing. Drinking: Water, still! I’m about to: Hopefully write a bit more for the mystery project 👀 Listening to: Meet Me @ the Altar – "Give It Up"

WANT:

Kids: Yes, eventually. I'd like a stable partner first (although if push comes to shove I wouldn't mind raising my kids solo), and most importantly I'd like to be my own person for a couple of years and not be bound by duty to everyone else. Travel, explore the world and myself, get all that out of my system so I can truly go into motherhood with no regrets. Get married: Yes, if I find the right person to do it with. Career: Study law and work for the EU or an NGO.

WHICH IS BETTER:

Lips or eyes: Eyes. I don't pay much attention to lips outside of someone having a cute smile! Hugs or kisses: Kisses are nice, but I still prefer hugs! Taller or shorter: IDGAF. I still love my tall lanky noodle men, but I'm not picky. With women, even less so. Girl is taller than me? Awesome, great for being held. Shorter than me? CUTE. Older or younger: Around my age, rest doesn't matter. I'm at an age where anything between 20-30 is fair game, but any younger or older and it gets creepy. Romantic or spontaneous: A mixture of both. Nice stomach or nice arms: If the person is nice, their body will be nice too. It's an automatic process. I don't make the rules. Sensitive or loud: A combination of both! Troublemaker or hesitant: Secret third thing where they're chaotic but also too shy to really make a move.

HAVE YOU EVER

Kissed a stranger: Does "someone I talked to all evening but didn't know before that and didn't meet again afterwards" count? Drank liquor: Tried a bit, same as everybody. Found it nasty. Didn't try again. Lost glasses/contacts: Don't have any to lose. (Given the way I've been treating my eyes: yet?) Had sex on the first date: I'm asexual and I refuse. Broke someone’s heart: Yes, and let's leave it at that. Turned someone down: I'm a woman existing in public. Having to turn down random men is a recurring part of my experience. Cried when someone died: Not really—I seem to shut down and go blank more than anything else. I used to feel guilty about it, but now I've learned that everyone processes grief and loss differently and it doesn't mean I care less. Fallen for a friend: Yes, repeatedly, it has yet to end well, and it will probably happen again.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

Yourself: Mostly yes. There are some things I need help with before I can unlock my full potential, but one thing I've learned is that I always manage in the end. And once I get proper help, I have no doubt I'll be just fine. Miracles: I don't like to rely on them, but I do believe that unlikely good things can and do happen. Love at first sight: Not for myself, I need to get to know a person before I fall for them. I do believe in attraction at first sight though. Heaven: It's a nice thought, but whether or not it exists doesn't matter to me. Our task in life is the same regardless: try to be kind and treat others well and hopefully leave the world a slightly better place. Santa Claus: No, and never really have. My parents never claimed he was real; my Christmas presents always came from the family that visited on Christmas Eve. Kissing on a first date: Did it once, it was okay. I think it's one of those "take it or leave it" things—if the chemistry is right, sure, go for it, but it's definitely not for everyone in every situation.

#warning: VERY long post behind the cut #but also: healing! improvement! look at her; she's okay now!#(mostly—getting there)#personal #I'm just sayin'

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