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moxfirefly · 3 years

Text

Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello x female reader #donnie tmnt #donatello tmnt #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #Donatello #Donnie #ns*w #oneshot

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sunjaesol · 3 years

Text

juke | spiderman au | tw: violence | title: motion // luke hemmings

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

"Hey, Julie," Luke greets, walking into Molina's Flowers & Gifts.

It's quiet in the store. An abundance of flowers packed together winking at him, corners stuffed with candles, books, vases and picture frames. It's a well-loved shop, within the Molina family for decades, their youngest daughter and his classmate now meandering behind the counter.

She smiles, "Hey, Luke. How are your aunt's tulips?"

"Uh," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, "very... tulip-y."

"Solid."

"Yeah. Anyway—" he points at her "—about the assignment. I can't do it with you."

She frowns. "Why?"

Because at night, he has to patrol the city! Who else is going to protect and serve New York — or Queens, specifically! They need him! Sure, they don't appreciate him or, y'know, know who he is, but...

As much as he wants to work with Julie — and really, he does, she's amazing — he simply can't. That's the responsibility he's taken upon himself as Spiderman and he has to honour that.

"Family commitment," he lies with a grimace. "I can do some research in the library this week, but—"

"Forget it," she mutters. "I'll do it. But you present, okay? I hate public speaking."

He sighs in relief. "Thank you! Yes, you got it!"

"You owe me now, you know that?" she asks, peering. It reminds him how she, unlike him, is a full-blooded New Yorker. She has bark and bite, while he has that Los Angeles softness buffing the edges of his actions.

Unless he's Spiderman. Then there's no stopping him.

Leaning against the counter, he tries dazzling her with a charming smile. "Like what?"

She thinks for a moment, face twisting up in that cute, pensive face she has; always crossing her features during calculus or physics. Another reason why he hates bailing on her: she's mad cute — and one of the few people at school that doesn't regard his music mania as geeky.

"Every weekend, me and my dad go to the flower market and get our batch. It's at four am. My dad's sick, so you're joining me this Saturday."

He grimaces. "Four? Really?"

"I know you're not Jewish. You're free."

"I could be!"

Her head tilts, amused. "Are you, Patterson?"

Sighing, his head drops along with his resolve. She has him. "Fine. Yes, I'll help you. Don't blame me if I fall asleep with my eyes open!"

Julie giggles at his remark and it makes him look up, a giddy feeling spreading in his chest. Her face is close to his, the colours of the flowers glimmering in her eyes, and he's kind of taken by her. Wow.

"Great. Now get out of my store!" she commands, grabbing the broom beside her. "I need to sweep the floors."

Pushing himself off from the counter, he cheekily salutes at her and bids goodbye, bouncing outside mere seconds later. That went better than expected — he even made her laugh!

Reggie sends him a text. I updated your suit. Good to go for tonight with zero malfunctions!

His grin widens. This Tuesday afternoon could not have gone better!

Fuck. He should've known those words were gonna jinx him.

Luke slings from skyscraper to skyscraper after a gang of armed criminals, failing to capture them with his webs and almost being shot himself just ten minutes ago!

Yeah, sneezing loudly during their very creepy gang meeting in a quiet Queens alleyway was not his proudest moment. Fucking hay fever.

It's even worse that they're fighting in his neighborhood, the streets familiar and well-trodden by him, his friends, his family. His stomach twists up with dread, but he has to keep going. He almost has them!

There's six of them, so he's sure he can get a few from a distance. Quickly mapping out his strategy from the ledge of a building, bug eyes gleaming in the street lights, he launches into action.

(There are police sirens in the distance, likely being called after the thugs broke into that bank, but Luke can't wait. This is his time.)

Webbing two against the brick walls of a bodega, he throws a joke alongside it too and adds extra webbing to their mouths. No need to hear their response!

A third thug gets lassoed towards him, dizzying the man, and a simple swing of the fists knocks him out cold.

The other three keep sprinting, shooting over their shoulder all precariously. If Luke wasn't running on adrenaline and fright, he'd scoff at their mindless use of bullets. One hits a lamppost, a mailbox, a tree.

(On that tree, a “who is spiderman?” poster, something he'd get excited over if, again, there wasn't a crime to be solved. Damn it, thugs!)

He manages to shoot a gun out of one man's hand and then web him down on the pavement, but the last two outsmart him. Exhaustion weighs his bones down — it's one am, school starts at eight, he has to pretend to be all normal and cool — and the police still hasn't arrived.

Any nagging thought gets knocked out of his mind the second he sees them crashing the windows of the Molina's, barelling into their store. His gut plummets while anger rises, reaching a fever pitch shaped in an angry cry and a boost of energy. Screw, strategy! He needs to fix this!

Zooming into the store after them, more bullets hurl by, shattering glass and vases and flying past their faces. It works to his advantage, the criminals trying to shield themselves with their hands, a sudden weak spot. Luke webs one to the ground, extra hard.

But then two arms curl around his neck from behind.

"Whoa!" he chokes out, flailing to be released. "C'mon, man!"

"Time to sleep, Spiderman!" the criminal snarls with a thick east coast accent, tightening his iron hold.

Luke helplessly tries hitting him with his feet and elbows, but the man is rock solid and his spidey system malfunctions again from the high levels of stress. Shit!

Just as he feels lightheaded, a resounding clang! makes the arms slacken, the man slumping on the ground like a heavy sack of potatoes. Staggering away, he whirls around, only to come face to face with an enraged Julie Molina.

She squeaks out an undignified warrior cry, raising her baseball bat once more to knock him out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he yells, grabbing onto the end of the stick before she gives him a concussion. "I'm the good guy! I'm—" he lowers his voice "—I'm Spiderman!"

The bat clatters to the ground. Her eyes slowly drift to the webbed man and the man's ass she whooped. And then, when he thinks she'll start crying from shock, she looks back at him in confusion.

"Why did you lower your voice like that?"

He blinks. Not what he expected. "Wha-? No, I didn't."

"You did. You sounded like a boy and now you don't."

He groans, stomping his foot. "I didn't! Anyway, Ju- miss. Girl. Thanks for the help. The police is on their way."

Her shoulder sag, now seemingly registering what just transpired. Her eyes, previously so pretty in daylight, well up with tears as she takes stock of her ruined family establishment. Luke swallows back the guilt, the immense urge to comfort her.

If he had just been faster... none of this would've happened.

A sob wracks her body. "My- my store. My dad. The flowers. We- we-" Her gaze locks on his, furiously devestated. "Why did you lead them here?!"

He raises his hands in defense. "I didn't! They trespassed! I- I'm so sorry, miss."

Her head shakes, more tears slipping down her cheeks. "That's not... good enough. Please go."

"Miss—"

"Go!" she shouts, pointing at the broken window.

He nods, obliging, utters once more the police is coming, and flies out the window. His mask rubs uncomfortably against his skin, cold sweat and tears pricking like needles.

When the next day at school Julie is nowhere to be found, he's not surprised.

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @thedeathdeelers @unsaid-emily @willexx @ourstarscollided @pink-flame @constantly-singing

#juke #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

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spookbusters · 4 years

Text

The Girl U Want

Summary: Hopper with a younger, thicc s/o!

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Reader // Warnings: Rusty writing, maybe!

A/N: These are so long, I genuinely could have written a fic from this. Sorry this took so long @morganofthecoves1!

It all started in 1981 when one of the former Hawkins business owners moved to a few towns over.

She and her husband sold their little ice cream shop and left the town with their renowned rocky road in tow.

You moved to town not long after that.

You were fresh out of undergrad with a degree in engineering.

You were fortunate that your parents were providing everything when you were in school, so you were able to work and go to school with minimal expenses.

The bulk of the money you made as a bartender was stuffed into your bank account so you could pursue your dream of one day owning a small bakery.

You found your perfect place in a little town called Hawkins an hour away from your hometown.

The owners of the old store were desperate to sell so they could move, the space was beautifully cheap, and it was prime real estate, sitting right on the main street; you’d be a fool to pass it up!

You started renting a tiny house outside of the main part of Hawkins. Far enough that you wouldn’t go broke, but close enough that you skate to work like you wanted to.

When Hopper first saw you it was only about three days after you’d moved to town.

He had just caught the same stop light he does every morning, his thumb tapped along to a repetitive Devo song playing on the radio.

The first thing he notices are the velvet mint rollerskates.

It’s the shimmer of the glitter encapsulated in the wheels that catches his eye as you roll up to the crosswalk.

His eyes travel up legs that can only be described as shapely and full-figured and he has to physically prevent himself from letting his jaw fall open.

“She’s just the girl you want.”

He can tell you’ve got to be young, or at least substantially younger than him.

You’re wearing a faded pair of grey jean shorts and an airy, sage green button down. Trendy stuff.

You skate across the crosswalk towards the store, offering a polite wave of greeting as you do so.

He’s so busy staring as you go by that he doesn’t notice the light turn green.

The two of you see each other every morning at that same intersection at the same time for a full week and a half.

After the first time, he starts returning your waves.

You don’t know a thing about each other, but you’re oddly acquainted with one another.

You won’t officially meet until he gets curious about the new store that looks to be opening on main street.

He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t curious about whether or not you were involved in it. You were new, after all.

You were working on the shop and getting everything ready for opening day with the front door propped open.

It was a beautiful day out and the summer breeze was much nicer than your A/C.

You’re working on knocking out an intrusive kitchen wall that imposes on your open concept floorplan when he comes in.

“Hello?” You leap straight out of your skin when you hear the deep voice.

When you turn around, you’re stunned by the sheer size of the man sitting in the entrance to your soon-to-be bakery.

It’s the hot guy you’ve been waving to from the crosswalk.

You hope he can’t see you visibly trembling as you shake his hand.

He introduces himself as Hawkins’ chief of police.

You guys have a bit of a laugh about having seen each other at the crosswalk for almost two weeks without introducing yourself sooner.

The day you formally met the man who would be the love of your life, you were covered in drywall dust and sweating bullets.

You’ll never forget it.

It’s been two years since that fateful day, and about eight months of being romantically involved with the Chief of Police.

You couldn’t be happier!

Hopper has learned quite a lot from you in those eight months.

One of those things: body positivity!

Since he had met you, he’d started appreciating his body more. Extra weight and all.

You knew you weren’t a skinny girl by any means, but you were proud of your body. You thought your figure was cute and you genuinely loved yourself.

He loved your body too, just saying ;)

Another thing he’s learned? Rollerskating!

Sure, he’s really bad at it right now and he had several small bruises from your first excursion to a rollerskating rink, but he’s getting the hang of it!

Truth be told, he’s only learning it for you.

If you ever asked him what his favorite part of your body is, he’s going to have to say your legs.

Your skating has resulted in strong, thick thighs and sculpted calves to die for.

If anyone were to ever ask you the same, you’re automatic answer is his arms.

You’re fascinated by the strength of them, and you love how tightly they hold you when you want to cuddle.

Worry about your age gap? Who has time for that noise?

You’re 26. You’re mature, stable, and that’s pretty much all Hopper cares about.

Your doughnuts are the best. Better than anything the chain store next to the station makes.

Once you get to the store every morning, the first thing you do is make him a half-dozen to take to work.

He’s your designated taste-tester.

When you make a coffee cake that he’s particularly fond of, you name it after him.

Chief Hopper’s Coffee Cake is a hit in Hawkins!

Him deciding to take Eleven in is a huge step for both of you.

But it only strengthens your relationship further.

You’d always wanted to be a mom and it felt like the right time.

Eleven loves you, of course, and so does the rest of the gang.

For her first Christmas with you, your gift to her is a pair of dusty orange skates.

You teach her to skate so she can have her own set of wheels when she’s riding with her friends.

When he proposes to you a while after, you scream and say yes.

The force of your hug nearly knocks him over.

You’re crying a little bit, but you can’t help but laugh when he asks:

“Can our wedding cake be made out of that coffee cake?”

#jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things 3

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kelyon · 4 years

Text

Golden Rings 2: A Jail

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Sheriff Graham deals with the Golds

Read on AO3

Graham Humbert did not get paid enough for this.

For the most part, being the sheriff of Storybrooke was easy. This was a quiet, law-abiding community. There were no drugs, no gang turf wars, no serial killers lurking in dark alleys. People kept to themselves and stayed on the right side of law and order. Usually, Graham could manage the whole town by himself. He had never even needed a deputy, though the position had been open for as long as he could remember.

Of course, bad things did happen in Storybrooke. Graham worked closely with the Mayor, and he knew more than he wanted to about the true nature of evil. But the worst crimes in this town were the things that didn’t get reported to the police department. If whole paychecks were spent at the Rabbit Hole and kids went to bed hungry and property was not stolen, but had been pawned off for much less than it was worth--that wasn’t anything that people called 911 about.

He tried his best, but he couldn’t protect everybody. He was only one man, after all. And Mayor Mills had made his duty very clear: He was paid to make sure Storybrooke looked good. Graham wasn’t there to root out secret crimes. He was there to keep the peace and make sure would-be troublemakers behaved themselves. Most of the time, that job was easy. Most residents of Storybrooke wanted the place to look good too. So they stayed in line and didn’t rock the boat.

With a few notable exceptions.

It was Saturday night, the day before rent day. Unlike any other Saturday in a given month, the day before rent day was especially quiet. Everyone who owed money to Mr. Gold suddenly realized that they actually couldn’t head out to a bar or enjoy a meal at a restaurant. They stayed home and counted their pennies.

Except for the one person in town who never paid Mr. Gold in cash.

Graham pulled the squad car into the free spot on the road by Birdhouse Corner Park. It was called a park, but it was really a fenced-in lot with a few trees and benches. Every fall Miss Blanchard’s class at the elementary school made birdhouses that hung from the tree branches and gave the park its name. Few birds ever actually took up residence in the bird houses, but it was still a pretty spot to sit outside if you were downtown.

Assuming that no one else had gotten to the benches before you had.

“Good evening, Mrs. Gold,” he said as he got out of the car. He hadn’t turned the flashing lights on; there was no need to draw attention to the situation.

He’d taken care of Mrs. Gold often enough to know that attention was exactly what she wanted.

“Hi, Sheriff!” Mrs. Gold waved with one hand. She was perched on the back of a bench facing the street. Her pale legs glowed orange in the streetlights and they were spread very far apart. Her other hand was plunged down the waistband of her shiny skirt.

She smiled, like she’d been expecting him.

At this time of night, all of the businesses in this part of town were closed, and there wasn’t much foot traffic. It was unlikely that anyone driving along Main Street would see the woman hidden in the shadows of a public park. Unlikely, but not impossible. After all, Graham had seen her while doing nothing more than a casual patrol, and what he had seen had been enough to make him stop his car. Maybe he would have done better to just look the other way.

He did not get paid enough for this.

He considered his next move carefully. Mrs. Gold was loitering, breaking a few decency laws, and putting herself in no small amount of danger. But she was also his landlord’s wife and one wrong word from her would land him in several different worlds of trouble.

“Bit chilly, isn’t it?” He crossed his arms over his chest to demonstrate that he was wearing a jacket. He tried to keep his eyes above her waist. Mrs. Gold, in addition to her short skirt, was wearing a white blouse and a dark-colored wrap that was so thin he could see her skin through the sleeves.

“I’m hot,” she declared, leaning back to expose her neck. Her thick necklace plunged past her collarbone and into her cleavage. “I’m always hot when there’s a sexy man around.”

Graham tried to stand so his stance was more authoritative than sexy. “You were alone before I got here.”

“Was I?” she giggled. “Are you sure?”

His stance collapsed. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried small talk.

“Mrs. Gold, why don’t you go on home? The streets can be dangerous for a woman out at night.”

“Aren’t you going to keep me safe, Sheriff?” Her one hand was still in her skirt and her elbow jerked with quick, repetitive motions. This woman was clearly masturbating, in a public park, in the middle of a conversation with a uniformed law officer. “Besides, what do you think Mr. Gold will do to anyone who touches me?”

Graham ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “So is that why you’re…” he gave up, “... touching yourself?”

She beamed and rocked from side to side on the back of the bench. “Mr. Gold likes me to be ready all the time.”

Against his better judgement, Graham took a step closer to Mrs. Gold. “Are you being coerced? Did your husband tell you to expose yourself in public?”

“Sheriff!” she giggled again. “You should know that I don’t do anything unless Mr. Gold tells me to. And I love doing it!”

Graham rubbed his hand over his face. Suddenly very tired, he pinched the brim of his nose and kept his eyes closed for a minute. “Mrs. Gold, if I tell you to go back home without making a fuss, will that do any good?”

“Nope!”

When Graham opened his eyes, he could see her smile in the patchy darkness. Jesus Christ, she was still fucking playing with herself!

“Sorry, Sheriff, but I don’t take orders from you.”

He snapped. “I am an officer of the law, you know! Do you think the law doesn’t apply to you?”

“No-o-o,” she cooed. “I think the law doesn’t apply to Mr. Gold.”

Unfortunately, there was no arguing with that. So Graham did what his training told him was the next step, and what she had probably wanted the whole time.

He reached for his handcuffs.

“Mrs. Gold, please put both hands where I can see them.”

Still smiling, she put her hands in the air. “You know Mr. Gold owns this park, right? Sure, the city leases it from him, but it’s technically private property.”

“Mrs. Gold, I just want to take you in out of the cold. I’ll give you a cup of coffee at the station and maybe we’ll have a talk. Will you come with me if I don’t use the handcuffs?”

She held out her hands toward him, wrists pressed together, begging to be restrained. “I’ll come in all kinds of ways, but handcuffs always make it more fun.”

This was no victory, but what else was he supposed to do? At least he could get her out of public view for the night. Graham closed the silver handcuffs over Mrs. Gold’s wrists. She shivered and made an obscene noise.

He rolled his eyes.

“Wait here,” he said. He left her on the park bench and opened the passenger door to the squad car.

“Yes, sir!” Mrs. Gold pushed her eyebrows together and made a face that matched her voice--mock-military serious, playing that he was in charge of this situation. Hands bound together, she hopped off the bench and stood beside it in her ridiculous heels.

Graham came back with a wet wipe he’d grabbed from the glove box, a souvenir from his last box of wings from Chicken Little’s. He took the wipe out of the wrapper and held it out to Mrs. Gold.

“Please clean off your hands before you get in my car.”

“Are you going to frisk me, Sheriff?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aww!” she mocked him. “What a gentleman! I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Gold you were so nice to me.”

He didn’t let himself react until she was in the back seat and he was shutting the door behind her. Even then, all Graham could do was run his hand through his hair and clench his teeth around a curse.

****

The Storybrooke Sheriff Station was a small building. Most of the square footage was used to store archives of case files and other paperwork. The only two cells were in the back of the Sheriff’s Office. Most of the time they were just a place to store belligerent drunks until they dried out.

But Mrs. Gold was not drunk and she had an odd way of showing her belligerence.

“Mr. Gold holds the deed to this building too, you know.” A good enough reason for her prance around like she owned the place. The handcuffs didn’t dampen her spirits at all.

Graham walked in behind her, a prisoner even though he held the keys. This time of night, there was no one else at the station. Even the dispatch officer, Mariah Moder, had taken the evening off when she heard that her sister Dotty had had something break in her house again. That was why the red light was flashing on his desk phone. Someone had left him a message, or possibly several.

“Aren’t you gonna take my picture?” Mrs. Gold had wandered over to the mugshot camera. She was posing like a model, pouting and winking at a photographer that wasn’t there.

Graham took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “You’re not under arrest, Mrs. Gold. That’s why I didn’t read you your rights. In fact, if you cooperate with me, I won’t even bother writing up a report and you can be home in half an hour.”

She gave him a skeptical look and held up her cuffed arms. “Then what was the point of these?”

“You said yourself that you wouldn’t come quietly unless I restrained you.”

“Well, I never come quietly unless I’ve got something stuffed in my mouth.”

Refusing to rise to her bait--or sink to her level--Graham cleared his throat. “Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestured to the couch that sat against one wall, perpendicular to the jail cells.

“What if I lie down instead?” Mrs. Gold was already moving into position, stretching out on the pilly blue fabric. She leaned her head on the armrest, so her red-soled shoes were pointed in Graham’s direction. The position made her skirt bunch up around her thighs but didn’t reveal her underwear--if she was wearing any.

Graham shook his head and sat down at the desk by her feet. “Just keep your hands where I can see them, please.”

“Well, since you said please,” Mrs. Gold shrugged and stuck her arms in the air. He watched her tilt the handcuffs this way and that. She hummed and admired her reflection. The girl had been picked up by the cops and she didn’t have a care in the world.

Was she even aware of where she was right now? Could she be held responsible for her actions? Should he have her tested for mental competency? Who would he even call to administer a test like that? Dr. Hopper? Or the psych ward at the hospital? Or did he need a judge to give a court order first?

“One thing at a time,” Graham sighed. He pulled out the office rolodex to look up Mr. Gold’s contact information. “Do you think your husband is at home or at his shop?”

“He won’t answer for you,” she said with matter-of-fact smugness. “And this time of night, he’ll only answer his cell phone.”

Graham looked at the front of the index card. Then the back. “I don’t have his mobile number.”

Mrs. Gold giggled. “Of course you don’t!”

He didn’t answer that, and he didn’t think about the flashing red light on the phone. He just turned the rotary dial and waited for Mr. Gold to pick up. Even if Graham wasn’t allowed to charge Mrs. Gold with illegal activity, he could still impress upon her husband that she was a public nuisance and needed to be better managed.

This was so stupid. He felt like a principal calling a kid’s parents because they had been disruptive during study time. Mrs. Gold should respect the law on principle. She should at least have enough self-preservation not to flirt with danger and enough decency not to do it in public. But she would only listen to one person and that was who Graham was trying to get a hold of.

On the other end of the line, the phone rang. And rang. And rang. It kept ringing until Graham hung up.

“Well, he isn’t at the shop.”

“Nope,” Mrs. Gold agreed. She was swinging her hands back and forth over her head, testing her range of motion in the handcuffs.

When Graham tried Mr. Gold’s home number, the phone picked up on the second ring. And promptly cut out.

“What the hell?” Graham muttered. He dialed again. As soon as his finger had turned the last circle, the other office phone started to ring. He ignored it. Let that call go to voicemail with the others. He needed to get Mrs. Gold out of his hair.

This time, the phone at Mr. Gold’s house hung up on the first ring. When Graham called a third time, there was a busy signal.

“What the hell?” he said again. He looked at Mrs. Gold. “Do you think your husband would take his phone off the hook when he knows people are trying to get in contact with him?”

“On the day before rent day? Yep!” She had finally put her arms down, and now they were slung over the couch armrest, one on either side of her head.

Graham put his elbows on the desk and ran both hands through his hair. Two hands, for double exasperation.

The phone rang and Graham picked up the receiver before it had finished the first ring. “Mr. Gold?” he asked hopefully.

“What?” The voice on the other end was female and very angry. Graham recognized it at once.

“Madame Mayor! I’m sorry about that. Is everything all right?”

“Absolutely not. I’ve been calling the station for hours! Where the hell have you been? Where’s dispatch?”

“Mrs. Moder had an emergency with her sister so she--”

“I don’t care about your excuses, Sheriff. There’s a real emergency happening right now and I need you.”

“What’s going--”

“Henry’s missing.” For the first time, there was a break in the Mayor’s anger, a deadly serious sliver of fear.

Graham leaned forward in his chair. Henry Mills was the Mayor’s son. He was a good kid--quiet, maybe a little lonely. That was understandable. If Regina Mills was a person in your life, that didn’t leave a lot of room for anyone else. But the lad wasn’t normally the type to cause trouble.

“It’s gonna be alright.” Graham said the cliche with sincerity. “I’m gonna do everything I can to find him.”

“You had better!” Regina snapped. “I haven’t seen him since after lunch. He could be anywhere by now. Something could have happened to him!”

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll be over at your place as soon as--” Graham looked over at Mrs. Gold, tried to calculate how much longer he’d be playing phone tag. “--as soon as I can.”

“Get here now!” the Mayor barked into the phone. Then the line went dead.

Leaning back, Graham let out a long whistle. Many of his conversations with Regina were more intense than necessary, but this time she was right to be demanding. Her son was missing. The only person she even came close to loving.

“Trouble with the boss?” Mrs. Gold was sitting up on the couch now with her feet on the floor and her hands placed primly in her lap.

Graham looked at her through bleary eyes. Maybe he was seeing things, but she actually looked sympathetic.

“Henry’s missing,” he said simply. “The Mayor is upset. She wants me on the case. But I’m stuck here with you, trying to get your husband to pick up his phone.”

Mrs. Gold looked at the ground. When she spoke, she sounded like a human being, not just an inflatable sex doll come to life. “Henry Mills, you said? The Mayor’s kid?”

“Yeah,” Graham said. Dull eyed, he looked at the floor between his desk and her heels. He felt like he should be angry, but he was just so tired. “You didn’t see him, did you? Ten years old, caucasian male with brown hair and brown eyes. Was he walking by while you were playing with yourself in the park?”

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Mrs. Gold looked embarrassed. Good. Maybe bringing up kids would make her aware of what planet she was living on. A kid could have seen her out there, indecently exposing herself. Anybody could have seen her. There were consequences to her actions--even the actions Mr. Gold told her to take.

“I didn’t see anybody,” she said quietly. “Mr. Gold always tells me to stay away from kids.”

Graham looked at her. “Why?”

Mrs. Gold shrugged. “Cuz I’m a bad influence.”

“No argument there.”

She looked stung, as if she had expected him to disagree with her. What did she think he was gonna say? No, of course a woman like her would be great with kids! She was Mom of the Year material, sitting in a police station with her skirt hitched up to her panties.

Not like Graham thought that he was any better. As well as he knew Regina, he had never spent much time around Henry. There was a reason for that. He wasn’t any better than Mrs. Gold. He was just better at keeping quiet about it.

“Alright,” he said as he stood up. “I’m done with the games. I need to take you home.”

“No!” Mrs. Gold leapt to her feet. There was a real emotion in her eyes. Fear? “I have to stay out until Mr. Gold calls me and tells me I’m allowed in the house.

Graham’s eyes narrowed. “Allowed in the house? Did he kick you out or something? Were you fighting?”

“I don’t fight with him.” She looked down at her hands in the silver cuffs. She had a few rings on either hand, but it was a simple golden band that held her attention now. “It’s just… one of the rules.”

Torn between wanting to know what the other ‘rules’ were and simultaneously desperately hoping Mrs. Gold would not tell him more details of her peculiar marriage, Graham didn’t speak until the phone rang again.

He picked up. “Storybrooke Sheriff Station, this is Graham.”

“Where the hell are you?” The voice on the other end was so loud that Graham moved the receiver away from his ear until it was safe.

“Hi, Regina. I really am on my way.”

“You should have already been here hours ago when I first started calling you, you worthless excuse for a man!”

Her standard flame of anger had blazed into a white-hot rage. Graham realized what he had done. He had called Mayor Mills by her first name. He wasn’t allowed to do that in public. That was one of their rules.

“Madame Mayor, I am so sorry.” He tried to grovel without letting Mrs. Gold know that he was doing it. “Please let me make it up to you. Please trust me to help you find Henry. I-I want to--” his instinct was to say please you, but he couldn’t say that while Mrs. Gold was watching him. “We can resolve this together, Madame Mayor, I promise. Please just allow me to take care of some official business first.”

“Graham, if you come to my house stinking like some townie slut--”

“I have Mrs. Gold in custody!” he shouted before Regina’s voice could carry any further. When she didn’t answer, he went on. “I caught her… loitering, and I’m going to drop her off at her house whether she likes it or not.”

In the silence that followed. Graham tried to imagine the expression Regina was making. Was she angry that such a stupid problem was delaying the search for her son? Could she possibly have sympathy for him? Would she understand that he did want to be helping her right now? Or would she get a thrill from knowing that Graham was using his authority to make a pretty girl’s life as miserable as he could?

Regina wasn’t really a bad person, but she did have a strong sense of schadenfreude.

“Fine,” she said at last. “If that’s the townie slut you’re busy with, just get rid of her so you can get to work finding my son!”

She hung up before Graham could promise her that he would. When he looked up, Mrs. Gold appeared to be dislocating her shoulder trying to reach her cuffed hands into her blouse.

“Do not--”

“Shut up,” she cut him off. “You’re lucky you’ve got those puppy dog eyes to make me feel sorry for you. I might get in trouble for this.”

If Graham thought of himself as any animal, it was as a wolf--loyal, family-oriented, and cautious. But when it came to Regina, “puppy dog” was the right image. What was a dog if not a wolf that was weak and stupid enough to be put in a cage?

But it had gotten Mrs. Gold to take pity on him. Even though she might get in trouble. The woman was practically in jail and she was only worried about getting in trouble with her husband.

Graham sighed. “What are you--”

“A-ha!” From the depths of her decolletage, Mrs. Gold produced a small silver mobile phone. She flipped it open and pressed some buttons on the menu.

“Give me that!” When he swiped the phone from her hands, it was still warm from being in her bra.

Gross.

But Graham didn’t have time to think about it. The tiny screen was already lit up with blocky letters that said ‘Mr. Gold’ and the phone was ringing. He put it to his ear just in time to hear a raspy growl on the other end:

“Are you in trouble already, pretty whore?”

“Mr. Gold!” Graham shouted quickly to keep him from going on. “This is Sheriff Graham with the Storybrooke P.D.. I’ve been trying to reach you for a while now.”

The phone was quiet, but not dead, so Graham went on.

“I’ve got your wife here at the station and I was wondering if I might bring her back to your house?” God, he sounded so weak! When it came to these people, Graham really was a worthless excuse for a cop.

On the other end of the line, Mr. Gold chuckled. “Oh really? Is the pretty whore in trouble already?”

Was there really no difference between how Mr. Gold spoke to his wife privately and how he referred to her when talking to a near-stranger? For her part, Mrs. Gold sat up straight on the couch, one bare leg crossed over the other, staring straight ahead at nothing.

Graham swallowed before answering. “She hasn’t done anything illegal,” he lied. Then he amended: “At least, she’s not under arrest for anything. She was out in the cold and I brought her by the station to warm up. I want to make sure she gets home safely.”

“I’m sure that’s more kindness than that slut has treated you with tonight.”

“Uh…” What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “So there won’t be any problems if I drop Mrs. Gold off at your house?”

“No of course not, Sheriff.” Mr. Gold’s voice was slick and businesslike. “I apologize that the stupid cunt wasted your time. Time is money, as you know.”

Had he really just heard that? “...Yeah,” he said. “I’ll… drive her over to your house.”

“I appreciate the courtesy. And please don’t worry about something like this happening again. I’ll be sure to give that cheap tart a sharp lesson in respect.”

“Uh…” Graham said again. Was that a threat of violence? Did he have to consider that actionable talk? Was bringing Mrs. Gold back to that man really in her best interest?

But then the office phone rang again and he knew he didn’t have time to do that kind of digging. That was Regina. Henry was missing.

He couldn’t protect everybody.

“Thanks for arranging to bring her back, dearie,” Mr. Gold said.

And then he hung up.

Graham snapped the mobile shut and placed it on the desk in front of Mrs. Gold. She picked it up and held it between her hands. Time was of the essence, but he still needed a minute to recover from that conversation.

“So… you might still be in trouble,” he said.

Mrs. Gold gave a knowing half-smile. It was nice to get a glimpse of a real person out of her. “Did he say he’d give me a sharp lesson or a hard lesson?”

“Sharp.”

“Oh, that’ll be fine.” She waved her hand as she stood up--or, waved it as best she could with the handcuffs on.

“Can I take those off now?”

She held out her arms. “Yeah, they did their job.”

Once Graham was done, Mrs. Gold rubbed her wrists and flexed her fingers. She did it automatically, massaging her joints with skill that clearly came from lots of practice.

“So, it’s a ‘hard lesson’ that’s bad news for you?”

“Why, Sheriff!” The fake smile was back, as was the bubbly-bright sex toy voice. “It’s always good when men are hard!”

“Right.”

He grabbed his coat and they walked out of the station.

****

He let Mrs. Gold sit in the front seat of the squad car, but he didn’t try to talk to her again. He wasn’t trying to be friends with this woman. He didn’t want to get roped into whatever sick games she and her husband played with people in this town. He didn’t want to get to know her. He didn’t want to worry about her.

He didn’t want to think about all the things they had in common.

But he did turn up the heat when he noticed the goosebumps on her bare legs. And he did put the car in park once he pulled up in front of Mr. Gold’s old-fashioned pink mansion. He wanted to wait and make sure that the door would open, that she got inside. He could make sure she was safe at least until then.

The lights were on inside the house. When the squad car pulled up, the front door opened.

Mr. Gold stood, silhouetted in the door frame, leaning on his cane. The lights were behind him, so his face was obscured by the darkness. There was just a small figure with a long, black shadow.

When she saw her husband, Mrs. Gold let out a gasp of delight. It was dark in the car, but her smile--her real smile--lit her up like a firework.

Graham half-expected her to run up the front steps and leap into his arms. But aside from her smile and some extra-happy humming, she acted just the same as she had been before. She let herself out of the squad car like she was a movie star getting out of a limo--one high heel at a time.

Then she bent at the waist and braced her arms against the open car door. She had angled herself so that Mr. Gold was getting a very nice view of her butt.

“I owe you a ride!” Mrs. Gold said, loudly enough that not only her husband, but the whole neighborhood could hear. “You can come anywhere with us!”

Graham sighed. “Take care of yourself, Mrs. Gold.”

She blew him a kiss and then practically danced up the stairs to where Mr. Gold was waiting.

He didn’t want to see what happened once those two were within five feet of each other on the day before rent day. He turned the key and had just put the car in gear when Mrs. Gold came bouncing down from the house, waving to him.

Graham reached over to roll down the passenger window. “Is everything alright?”

She stuck her arm inside the window. There was a crisp fifty-dollar bill in her hand.

“Mr. Gold told me to thank you for taking such good care of his stupid cockslut. He said he knows what a handful that whore can be and you deserve to be rewarded.”

Mouth open, Graham stared at Mrs. Gold’s face. Then he stared at her hand. Then he stared at the money. This was a bribe. He had to refuse this. He had to report this.

“Mrs. Gold, I can’t--”

“Yes you can.” She dropped the bill on the passenger’s seat and stepped away from the squad car with her hands behind her back. “Your rent is due tomorrow.”

“I’ve got enough for my rent.”

“Then buy a box of donuts.”

Without another word, Mrs. Gold turned on her heel and went back to the house. Mr. Gold was still waiting in the doorway. When she got back inside, he let her in and shut the door behind them.

For a solid minute, Graham sat alone in the darkness. There were a million things he should do right now. But all of them involved being a better man than he actually was. With a heavy sigh, he took the fifty off the seat and put it in his front pocket. He could still report it as a bribe. Or he could give it to charity.

Or he could buy a box of donuts.

Graham shook his head and drove toward Mifflin Street and Regina. Priorities. Henry could be halfway to Boston by now and who knew what kind of trouble he might find there?

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #ouat #poor graham

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despairforme · 3 years

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It hadn’t gone TOO BADLY today, or should he say - tonight. Three matches, and three easy wins. Just like it SHOULD be. Lately, Nnoitra had been struggling a bit with his fights in the cage. Not because his opponents had been stronger than usual, but because he had been feeling uninspired. His bad performance had made him feel even worse, so it had been a downward spiral. Now that he had pulled himself the FUCK together it was going better. He still... Felt pretty shitty though, but just the fact that he was feeling better than last week was a good sign.

It was a little past midnight, and he was on his way home. He had asked Grimmjow if he should wait for him, but Grimmjow was working VERY late tonight, and had told Nnoitra to just go ahead. Nnoitra was wondering if maybe he should at least do some chores around the apartment when he got back. Since he’d been feeling so shitty recently, stuff had been piling up. Not good. He REALLY wasn’t feeling it though, so.... Should he just have an early night? What about food? A small sigh fell from his lips. It was cold. Good thing he had brought his jacket. His ears and nose were still freezing though. He had his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. Had the streets not been COMPLETELY deserted, he would’ve felt paranoid about walking with his hands like this. He preferred to be ready to defend himself at a second’s notice.

He passed the usual late-night convenience store. A guy exited with a pack of smoke. Nnoitra kept his eye on him but the man walked in the opposite direction of Nnoitra. Should he go inside and buy something? A bag of chips? In the end he couldn’t be bothered, so he continued walking. He only passed a few more people. A group of friends, clearly drunk. A pizza delivery guy who looked very lost, and a HOPEFUL guy in a suit who stood buy a bus stop, even though Nnoitra knew he had JUST missed the bus, and it wouldn’t show up again for another 30 minutes.

Already when the apartment building came into view, Nnoitra got a bad feeling. He could see it from the beginning of the street, that there were someone standing outside. It looked like two men. Nnoitra pulled his hands out of his pockets. There were bruises on his knuckles. He noticed his heart picking up its pace as he approached the building. He had HOPED that maybe these two guys were just out for a smoke-break. But neither one of them were smoking. There was absolutely no reason why someone would be just standing outside the apartment building at this time of the night. They were WAITING for someone. A car that would pick them up? No, they were standing too far away from the road. If they were waiting for someone, they were waiting for someone who lived in the building. Nnoitra stopped walking. He was still too far away to see their faces, but he knew they were looking at him. Coincidence? There wasn’t much to LOOK at here, since the street was empty. This wasn’t really a SHADY part of down. In fact, it was a pretty nice area ( the apartment had been very expensive ). That didn’t mean Nnoitra could proceed without caution though. He had A LOT of enemies. How could someone have found out where he lived? He took a moment to thank the lord that Grimmjow was not with him.

He started walking again, and his heart was now pounding. The two men came into view. They were dressed in suits. Nnoitra didn’t know jack shit about suits, so he couldn’t tell if they were expensive-looking or not. They both seemed rather relaxed. One had his hands resting against his sides, and the other had just pulled up his phone. It didn’t LOOK like they were about to start a fight at least. Then again, people in suits weren’t the types to get into a fist fight. They were more likely to pull a gun. Nnoitra’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t stop walking though. Soon, he reached the two men. The taller one looked away from his phone, and it became pretty obvious that YEAH - they were waiting for him.

Now that he was closer, he could see that the two of them were of different age. The shorter one was middle-aged. His hair was grey and he seemed tired. The taller one was younger and his stubble made him look tired as well. The older reached into his pocket, and Nnoitra FROZE. The man didn’t pull a gun on him though, instead - he held up a badge. A police badge. This did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for Nnoitra’s nerves.

❝ Police Detective Lionel Mackenzie, and this is my college Sergeant Philip Martin. ❞ The older man said, holding up the badge for Nnoitra to see. He wouldn’t have been able to tell a fake one from a real one, but he gave it a look anyway. The other man showed his badge as well. Nnoitra was QUICKLY going through his most recent activities, to try to find out WHAT he could’ve possibly done to make TWO members of the police feel it necessary to find him in the middle of the fucking night. Honestly? He had hardly been doing jack shit recently, due to his depression. So? What the FUCK? ❝ You are Nnoitra Gilga? ❞ Well - no use in lying, right? If they were looking for him they must’ve had a good description of him to go by. There weren’t many seven feet tall one eyed men strolling around town.

❝ Yeah, ‘daz me. ❞ Nnoitra answered. His voice came out sharper and more hostile than he had expected. It only went to show how FUCKING uncomfortable he was right now. Since they were police, he didn’t think they were going to assault him at least, but... Were they going to arrest him? FOR WHAT?

❝ We’re sorry to disturb you so late at night. You’re not an easy man to reach, and we’re on a schedule so we’d like to ask you some questions, if that’s alright? ❞ Was that alright? Absolutely fucking not. Could he refuse? What would happen if he refused? His guess was that he would seem suspicious. The problem here was that he had no idea what he had done wrong.

❝ Yeah, I guess. ❞ Awkwardly, Nnoitra rolled his shoulders. He then crossed his arms over his chest. Were they going to ask him here, or ask to come inside? Or take him to the police station? ❝ Ya’ll wanna come inside? It’s fuckin’ freezin’. ❞ Nnoitra just knew he would feel safer if he was inside.

❝ Thank you. ❞ The Police Detective said with a small smile that did look thankful. Nnoitra walked over to the doors to the apartment complex, and typed the code that would make the doors open. Then all three of them went inside to the lobby. There wasn’t anywhere to sit, so they just stood there. There was a moment of awkward silence ( at least it was awkward for Nnoitra ).

❝ So what’cha wanna ask me ‘bout? ❞ He’d prefer to just get straight to the point.

❝ We want to ask you about an incident that happened on June 16. 2018. Do you remember that day? ❞ Nnoitra was NOT GOOD WITH DATES. He could forget birthdays, anniversaries.. All that type of stuff. When THIS date was mentioned, however, he immediately understood what this was about. WHY THE FUCK were they interested in something that happened almost three years ago? Nnoitra’s expression must’ve given away at least some of his thoughts. His feet shifted uncomfortably, and he squeezed his arms that were still crossed over his chest tighter together. ❝ You were brought into the City Hospital’s ER with a gunshot to the head, isn’t that right? And a man who shares the same address as you - Jacques Jaeger was brought in with extensive injuries to his shoulder and neck. ❞ Nnoitra didn’t answer. He didn’t want to. He did, however, give a small nod. Was there a question here? ❝ We are investigating those we believe to be responsible for the assault on both of you. It would be very helpful if you could tell us anything you remember from that day. Any descriptions of conversations of people or --- ❞ Nnoitra held up his hand, stopping the detective from continuing. He didn’t even need to THINK about this to know what his answer was.

❝ Leave me alone. I AIN’T no fuckin’ snitch. I don’t give a shit what ya’ll investigate, but leave me ‘n Grimmjow ‘da FUCK outta it. ❞ Did this make him sound suspicious? MAYBE. Their dealings with the gang had cost them SO much. Nnoitra wasn’t going to let Grimmjow or himself get dragged into that shit again.

❝ We can offer protection, if that’s what you’re worried about. ❞ The police sergeant spoke now.

❝ Didn’t ya hear me? I said leave me alone. ‘N anyways, I don’t know jack shit. I was shot in ‘da HEAD, yeah? ❞ Nnoitra pointed to his eyepatch, as if to indicate. ❝ That tends ‘ta FUCK with yer memory. ‘N Grimmjow don’t remember NOTHIN’ either, so don’t bother askin’ him. ❞ It seemed the two men had almost expected this sort of reaction from him. They exchanged looks, and the older one sighed. Then he handed Nnoitra a card, which he accepted with every intention of throwing it right in the trash as soon as possible.

❝ If you change your mind, give us a call? Anything you can tell us would be hugely helpful. ❞ Somehow, Nnoitra had the feeling that they weren’t going to give up that easily. Nnoitra glared. ❝ We’re sorry to have disturbed your evening. ❞ It was fucking past midnight! ❝ Please reconsider. ❞ Then they gave him a not-so-friendly nod, and left. Nnoitra remained standing, his pulse RAISING like crazy. He leaned against the wall behind him and briefly closed his eye, letting out a breath. Shit.... What the fuck was going to happen? Should he tell Grimmjow about this?

The two of them had COMPLETELY opposing opinions on this whole thing. Grimmjow WANTED to be a snitch. He wanted to HELP with the investigation. That disagreement between them had caused a huge argument between them, which had... Basically ended with Grimmjow almost KILLING himself. Nnoitra was terrified of bringing this subject up again. Then again... Wasn’t it better if he DID talk to Grimmjow about it? He was pretty sure that those police guys would ask him next. The least Nnoitra could do was warn him. FUCK! He slammed the back of his head against the wall, hard enough for small stars to briefly spread across his vision.

❝ MotherFUCKER! ❞ This was the absolute last thing he needed in his life! His vision was a bit blurry when he looked at the card he had been given, with the detective’s number. What if Grimmjow wanted him to call them? If he did... What could he even tell them? Nnoitra was pretty sure the one who had the best recollection of that day was Grimmjow. Not to mention Grimmjow could probably lead the police to his loanshark... Wasn’t that how that entire MESS had gotten out of hand in the first place? Nnoitra didn’t want Grimmjow to get involved. The other had NO idea how dangerous it would be for them to inform on the gang. Fuck... He really didn’t know what to do!

#[ FINALLY I WROTE THIS AND I'M HYPED ]#[ SO MUCH STUFF HAPPENING FOR THEM IN MAIN VERSE ]#[ THAT WE PLOTTED OUT ]#[ I'M READY ]#[ nnoitra: why is this my life ]#[ 8)))))))) sorry not sorry nnoi ]#ᵈᵉˢᵖᵃᶤʳ ;; ic.#ᵇᵘʳᶰ 'ᵈᵃ ᶜᶤᵗʸ ;; verse.#ˢᵗᵒʳʸᵗᶤᵐᵉ ;; drabble.#longpost //

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ikeservant · 4 years

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hc: how do you think the main ikesen boys would react to mc’s time? like they’re all with her when the wormhole and get thrown back to her time?

Sorry for the long wait! I hope this is what you were asking for >__

Intro: No matter what it seemed inevitable that the wormhole was going to keep chasing mc and Sasuke to take them to the present day. Since both of these time travelers were near and dear to the Oda and Uesgi-Takeda warlords, they came to see them off. With tearful goodbyes, the wormhole would finally be at rest and stop causing destruction once it takes what it wants. Mc opened her eyes to find herself in the present day. However, she realized that there were eight too many people with her. The warlords, all confused, realized that they were sucked into the present day. Mc and Sasuke, after explaining that the warlords were 500 years in the future, devised an emergency meeting. They decided to all stay at Sasuke’s apartment and learn how to habituate to the future. So, how do the warlords fare?

Nobunaga: Intrigued and curious about everything. Is fascinated by automobiles. A lot of “this is very proficient. Let’s bring this back with us.” Likes to go on day trips with mc and the others to learn more about the area. Loves museums and will research everything. Adapts SUPER quickly.“Maybe I can conquer all of Japan AGAIN.” If he had to stay in the modern day for a long time, would most likely use his charisma and knowledge of currency and politics to either be a politician or CEO.

Hideyoshi: “So this is the country that Nobunaga will have founded.” Was a little freaked out and scared of the cars and busses whizzing by. “Be careful, Nobunaga and mc, these things could seriously kill someone.” (Boi, mc has been here longer than you. She knows how to use a crossroad. Thanks for caring though, bby). Loves going to modern cafes and trying all the teas and drinks. Wants to learn all the safety codes and rules of society to keep all of the warlords safe and get along. If he had to stay in the modern day long, he’d either be a police officer to protect others and upholding the law or be a hardworking manager that has to deal with everybody’s bullshit, drinks coffee like a madman, and kicks the copier when its spazzing out. “Back in my day we just rewrote everything.”

Ieyasu: Can use common sense for the most part to get by and stay safe, but will act like a grumpy old man dealing with change. Mc has fun with her payback from Ieyasu calling her naïve and foolish when she tried adapting to the Sengoku era, telling him now he knows what it feels like being sucked into another era. When y’all went to the drug store, he was intrigued with all of the medication and pain relief remedies. Will collect several medical textbooks and buy out all of Walgreen’s pharmacy department in hopes of being better at healing others when they return. He went to the zoo and was fascinated with all of the unique animals found worldwide. Won’t admit it but loved petting the goats and alpacas at the petting zoo (reminded him of Wasabi,who he secretly missed). Will sneak food to feed street cats and due to his medical knowledge he’d either be a veterinarian or a pharmacist if he had to be in the modern era for a long time. Likes some things about the present but is a little overwhelmed how loud and fast everything goes and sort of wishes to go back to the home that is the Sengoku.

Masamune: Put this man on a LEASH. He is running around everywhere, looking at everything. “I highly support the fashion choices of this era. Tank tops, mini skirts, and short shorts? HELL YA.” Mc is his guide to all of the foods in the area. Food trucks, dessert shops, restaurants will all be conquered by Masamune. Taking him to a grocery store for the first time was an absolute nightmare for Sasuke’s credit card. Loves how food is more readily available for people now than in the Sengoku era. Gets so much food. Also has two duffle bags stuffed with ramen packages for when he returns to the Sengoku era so his men can have a ready made meal. Went to an amusement park and LOVES roller coasters like the adrenaline junkie he is. He’s overall fascinated with all the fun experiences and exciting new things in the modern era. Would thrive as a chef at a restaurant who puts on a show with fire and knives while making the best food in town.

Mitsunari: Put this boi on a leash too. He’d be wandering around and getting lost in thought about how everything works. He’d be too busy thinking about how the mechanics of a car works that he would almost be hit BY a car. Is fascinated and wants to learn how everything works like Nobunaga. Both would love the museums. Mc gave him a laptop and boi is in LOVE with it. He spends several hours focusing on the laptop and researches everything. It’s like a mini library in his lap. Mc took him to the library and he now spends several hours looking through every book. Accidentally got hired as a librarian (the most beautiful librarian in Japan). Has to have a buddy to go out with or else he will get lost in thought and end up getting lost in general. Still love him though.

Mitsuhide: “Adapt. Improvise. Overcome.” Doesn’t take long for him to learn how to beat the system. Likes to tag along with mc and the others to go to different places just for the experience. Is glad that he doesn’t have to play spy for anybody anymore since all the warlords are in the same boat and he has more freedom to roam about (and cause trouble). Will use the excuse “well I didn’t know any better. I’m from the Sengoku.” for everything even though he’s already learned all the rules and customs just so he can get on Hideyoshi’s and mc’s nerves. Uses his cunningness and intelligence to be the best lawyer. Could also be a hella good detective. Had the best time in the magic trick and prank stores. They amuse him and finds it fun to freak out the other warlords in their apartment.

Kenshin: Almost Yeeted out of existence when he found out that swords are frowned upon to carry around in this time period. However he was brought back to stability when Sasuke and mc took him to a bar for the first time. Mc had to convince the police to not arrest Kenshin a few times when he threatened to kill some people and slashed a car tire for almost hitting him. (Kenshin violence is very frowned upon here.)Has a tough time adapting and getting along in modern society but he eventually finds a way. “Accidentally” becomes a gang leader in one night. Mc took him to a pet store and the entire pen of bunnies flocked to him. Guess who has a giant rabbit pen on the roof of the apartment? Kenshin.

Shingen: Also loves the new style. Man never thought he’d see the day that women would walk down the street with legs and arms showing. Also had to have mc bail him out from the police because of his flirting being misunderstood as him being a creep. Loves the bakery and sweets shops in the area. Yukimura is not happy having to do patdown checks to make sure Shingen isn’t sneaking sweets into the apartment. Loves the new carpentry methods and tools. Mc took him to Home Depot and he LOVED it. Would either be a sexy Home Depot worker and independent carpenter or be a hot bartender that is very popular with the female patrons.

Yukimura: Is confused by everything. Almost passed out when he realized they were 500 years in the future. “What the HELL is that thing” would be what he’d say while pointing with a scared look on his face. Mc and Sasuke thought it’d be a great idea to teach Yukimura about sports so he can have fun, release his pent up energy he would usually use for practice or battle training, and have a more positive outlook of the present day. Basketball and soccer being one of his favorites. Joins a local sports group and becomes team captain due to his previous war tactics being useful on the battlefield AND the court/soccer field and his leadership skills. Loves to go to athletic stores. Eventually becomes a coach, which he is both bashful and proud of. Could see him becoming a fireman since he’d want to save people and leap into action to save others like he did in the past as a Sengoku warlord.

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen hc

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dxlansfxck · 5 years

Text

BLOOD // WATER [G.D] † 01

Summary: Grayson Dolan, better known as “el diablo” – Los Angeles’ most known gang leader and drug lord – doesn’t usually think twice when it comes to killing someone that is dangerous for his business. One night, he meets this mysterious woman that out of nothing wants to start dancing in one of his DEVILISH-nightclubs. Once their heated relationship got more intense, he knew he’d be killing for her too – and realizes how handy she actually could be for him and the revenge he’s been longing for years.

Warnings: mentions of violence, sex work, stripping / pole dance, soft smut, gun use, blonde & tattooed Gray (it should be a warning bc it’s hot, lol)

Word Count: 14.5k

Saturday, 13th August 2016. 10:47 PM

Loud, obnoxious sounds were filling the crowded streets of Los Angeles, caused by a pack of luxurious cars racing down the 700 Main St, passing by tourists and locals that were trying to get to the annual beach party on Venice Beach. The leading car, a black Mercedes AMG CLA 45, came to an abrupt halt, all the other cars stopping right behind it. The tinted windows rolled down as one hand motioned the crew to take a turn on the left side, while the Mercedes went the other way, trying to find a free parking lot somewhere… inconspicuous. Not that this car wasn’t inconspicuous at all, Jalen chose the sleek black one instead of his bright green Corvette, but it wasn’t even his job to fulfill this task on his own. Usually, Grayson didn’t give him those kinds of jobs, knowing that Jalen could do better, but today, everything was different. They were so close to reach their goal; Jalen just had to make sure everything worked out as planned – so he decided to do it by himself.

Grabbing his sunglasses, he stepped out of the car in one swift motion, closing the door behind him while walking towards the more and more crowded beach where loud music was playing, and drunk people were either grinding on each other or fucking in the ocean. He scoffed at the exhilarating freedom those people must be savoring, knowing that by tomorrow, some of them wouldn’t be there to celebrate anymore. On the other hand, it wasn’t his fault that they chose the wrong side.

Jalen quickly pulled out his phone, texting Grayson that he was there and telling him to look after him if he wouldn’t call him within the next two hours. Then, he muted his phone, stuffing it back into the pockets of his worn-down jeans while putting on some random base cap he found in the trunk. Lighting a cigarette, he passed some couples that were in the middle of making out, not caring about them at all – he was looking for someone different.

The heavy weight of the Glock that was pushed into his underwear was something he was used to by now, even though he wasn’t one to use it on a regular basis. Like already said, he wasn’t the one to do that. The diablo’s hierarchy was strict, no one could ever come even near the rank that Grayson Dolan had, that was for sure. But Jalen, he was a close second, maybe even qualified enough to be called the vice president. He was still out there in the streets, looking for his rookies sometimes, but most of his business was behind a desk, just like Grayson’s. Neither of them was the one to have blood on their hands, why else would they have hundreds of members following their instructions?

This time was different, though. Jalen couldn’t sleep over the fact that someone else could be the one to kill this motherfucker, the one that seduced his girlfriend, the one that had her pinned underneath his body when he was out there on a business meeting with Grayson. He found out rather quickly, he left no one he was close to without observation, but he couldn’t believe that the whore he used to think of as a loving girlfriend would ever dare to cheat on him with Kyle Houck. This edgy, wannabe tattooed bastard? Yeah, no chance that he’ll be surviving this night.

11:43 PM

The beach got more crowded as the time passed by, but Kyle Houck was yet nowhere to be found. Jalen has updated Grayson, talked to a few other gang members that were there as well, but neither of them has seen the target yet. Jalen grew nervous and impatient, wanting this night to be over as soon as possible to head back home where his younger sister was possibly waiting for him. Y/N never liked the thought of him being part of this gang, even though she didn’t know what exactly he was doing in there. But he loved his family, wanting them to be protected for the rest of their lives – and Grayson was one of the few people that could help him with that.

Sunday, 14th August 2016. 12:18 AM

A mob of teal hair passed Jalen’s field of vision, causing him to be more attentive than he’s already been, following the colorful head with his eyes, slowly walking after him without getting noticed by the dancing crowd. Sweaty bodies were pressed against his and Jalen couldn’t help but cringe at that, hating all those people but envying them at the same time. Their life was easy and fun, his on the other hand was full of risks and worries, weighing too heavy on his shoulders.

The gun he had checked multiple times by now was burning into his skin, ready to be used any moment from now, but Jalen had to wait, not wanting to cause a mass hysteria. Kyle walked further down the beach to a part where just a few random people were standing with red cups in their hands, probably talking somewhere quieter. Jalen acted as if he was concentrated on his phone. ‘Got him” was sent to Grayson before he raised his glance just to be found right across from Kyle motherfucking Houck. Jalen was quick to grab his weapon, but Kyle was faster – and smiled down at him. “Hello there”, he grinned while almost softly caressing his own gun.

“Houck”, Jalen spoke through gritted teeth, loading his gun while pointing it at his opponent. The tattooed man laughed at his reaction, angling his head. “What brings you to our side of the beach, Y/L/N? This is Angelo Vendicatore territory and it makes you”, he steps closer to him, “our prey.”

Just then, Jalen realized where he was, surrounded by AV members. “Fuck”, he hissed, reaching into his pockets with one hand to press the quick call button that was holding Grayson’s number while still looking at Kyle, but he was too late. Just as Jalen was about to make his only shot – a shot that had to be on point -, he heard a loud noise followed by the worst pain he had ever felt. His ears were ringing, and his body was on fire, a loud scream escaping his lips as he randomly shot his bullet into Kyle’s direction, not even hitting him in the process, before he fell to the ground with a loud groan. “Y/N”, was all he could say, not wanting to leave his sister yet, needing to see her finally get a man, build up a family, moving out of their parent’s house. He promised to take care of them, but he broke his promise. He broke his life goal. Laughs and applause was heard, but he couldn’t concentrate on that while feeling such pain. Jalen cried, not caring about it at all, his vision getting blurry and his breaths coming shorter than he’d like them to come. He felt so, so cold and he was hurt. Flashes enlightened somewhere in the corner of his eyes, knowing that someone must either film this scenario or at least take enough pictures to threaten Grayson with them.

By all goods, he just hoped Y/N would never be able to see them.

Y/N. With the thought of his sister, he closed his eyes one last time.

Late July, 2019

“Maybe you should go for it, Y/N. I know what they say about el diablo, but he never disrespects any of his girls – and you’ll be save around there. Jalen is dead, we can’t change that. It’s been over three years, you need to get your head back up, honey”, Zavi mumbles while scrolling through different web pages, looking for a better job opportunity than dancing in a night club. You sigh, pulling some of your thick braids in a knot. “I know that he’s dead, Zav, thanks for reminding me”, you shake your head, trying to get rid of the tears forming in your eyes. “But it’s el diablo, he’s known for killing people! What if I fall down the pole or anything like that? He fucking killed his twin brother’s fiancé because she was pregnant, and he wanted to get out of the gang!”

It was true, Grayson Dolan wasn’t known to be the nicest human being on earth, he killed many people – not that anything was proven by the police -, but people around the streets knew what he was able to do. He might not be the one to kill those people himself, but he for sure was the one that shoot the shot in this woman’s heart, enjoying the view of her falling to the ground, crying out her baby’s name while Ethan had to watch the entire time, not being able to move. Grayson’s men were holding him down, making him feel every bit of pain his fiancé had to feel, watching her life end while tears burnt his cheeks. Soon enough, her eyes showed no emotions anymore, her mouth hang open, but no sound came out, her heart stopped beating, still losing blood. And the baby never made its way into the daylight. At least, that’s what the rumors said.

Rumors said also, that Ethan killed himself right after that, others said that he managed to leave the gang, joining another one while promising to ruin Grayson Dolan’s life. But no one knows for sure what happened after that one special night. You didn’t know who exactly killed your brother, but you for sure knew that Ethan Grant Dolan was still alive, running the Angelo Vendicatore like his life depended on it. Yet, not many people have seen him ever since that night, leaving him to be as mysterious as you could imagine.

“Y/N, stop it! It’s your decision, I could totally talk to my boss if we have another spot left in the team, but you were the one that said working in a pet store isn’t going to pay your rent”, Zavi shakes her head while writing the number of the DEVILISH-nightclub down. “That’s the number I found online. Give them a call, maybe even just go there to introduce yourself, I don’t think Grayson Dolan himself will be the one to decide who’s going to work there or not. He’s probably too busy buying and selling drugs.” She shrugs her shoulders before standing up and pressing a kiss to her best friend’s cheek. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?” You just sit there and nod, still thinking about Grayson Dolan, while Zavi was already on her way out of the small apartment.

You knew you were in desperate need for a job, your parents didn’t even bother sending you any money to pay the rent when they moved away over two years ago, leaving you in the city where your brother was buried, but not wanting to live there themselves anymore. You on the other hand couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, Los Angeles was the city you grew up in, so many memories you had in each and every street that you could never leave that town. It was the city of angels during the day, but the city of the devil in the night – the city of el diablo, the city of Grayson Dolan.

Letting out another sigh, you quickly type in the nightclub’s number in your phone, breathing in a few times before pressing the call button, letting it ring for a while, but nobody answered. “Seems like I need to go there on my own”, you huff before standing up, taking a deeper look into your wardrobe, searching for an outfit to wear while having a job interview at a night club as a stripper.

You, of course, didn’t know what to expect there, trying to be prepared for anything that could happen. Starting off with a shower, an intense shaving session and you even exfoliated your skin to make it extra smooth. “I should’ve gone to the waxing appointment with Zavi.” You muttered, annoyed at the amount of time you just spent shaving, knowing that by tomorrow you’d for sure be covered in stubble again.

Now onto the big decision: what was the best way to show off your body, but not looking like a whore? On the other hand, it was a strip club, you might need to show off more than you usually would. You were standing in front of your full body mirror, the opened wardrobe right next to it, clothes were shattered all around your feet, some on top of your bed, but you felt like neither of them fitted. Usually, you’d go out in oversized band shirts and leggings or high waisted jeans, completely fitting into the whole “grunge/arthoe”-aesthetic without even trying. You didn’t like to dress up, all your clothes were comfortable but still cool looking, completely fitting your tattooed body. If you’d ever dance for el diablo’s nightclub, you’d dance in an outfit you feel good in.

Around an hour later, you decided on wearing a black button up skirt that ended mid-thigh and was tight, hugging the curves of your butt perfectly, showing off what you’ve got. Usually, you’d combine that skirt with a jeans jacket and an oversized shirt, knotted above your stomach, but that just wasn’t sexy enough. Grayson Dolan had the most beautiful, exotic woman dancing for him, skinny girls with porcelain-like skin, completely different from your dark skin and tattooed, curvy body. Back in the days people would call you out different names, not realizing that your skin color didn’t make your personality. You are black, who cares? You couldn’t change that anyways – and you love your skin, love the way it makes your light green eyes pop out and how white your teeth looked even though you were literally running on coffee.

One problem you’ve always had with finding cute tops was that your boobs were too big to wear most of them. That’s why you always decided onto something loose, showing off your hips and butt instead of your cleavage, but you felt strong and confident tonight, deciding on wearing a leather harness-bralette with some fishnet long sleeve over it. You’d totally dig some fishnet tights as well, but wouldn’t want to overdo it just yet, needing to find a pair of shoes fitting to that outfit. For you, it was usually either a pair of Doc Martens or some sneakers, but for today you decided to go with your old Jeffrey Campbell heels, the ones you wanted to badly but never wore them because they were made out of black leather and covered in studs. Well, tonight was the night.

LA’s streets were still filled with people, even though it was around 11 PM now. You didn’t like going out there alone, walking the streets on your own without anyone to protect you – especially in that outfit. For your hair and makeup, you kept it quite simple: bold brows, eyeliner and mascara, some highlighter and lip gloss. But still, you were popping out in the nightlife, people were looking at you with confused looks on their faces, eyeing you up and down. Your tattoos were always something that society didn’t seem to accept, making it quite hard for you to find a job these days, but you would never even think about getting them removed, they were a bigger part of you than your actual self. Your arms were sleeved up, mandalas and dotwork covering your left arm while your right one was filled up with beautiful flowers. Medusa’s head was covering your lower stomach, disappearing in your underwear – where it for sure continues, the snakes winding up around your belly button.

But your favorite piece so far was the ox skull right under your boobs, its horns going up on the sides of your boobs, while a dagger was placed between them. Some smaller tattoos were splattered around your legs, some of them stick and poked by yourself or your brother, but you loved all of them equally. You made your body even more beautiful than it already was by putting your own art onto it.

It was quite a walk to the DEVILISH-nightclub, but once you started to hear music you already knew it wouldn’t be as far anymore. The loud bass was already accelerating your heartbeat, making your stomach jump in both fear and excitement, but you were still more than just nervous. Your feet stopped abruptly; it was your last chance to head back home now. The red and pink sign of the nightclub was so bright that you had to squint your eyes to read it, making sure you were in the right spot. DEVILISH. There it was. Either your future or your death, you couldn’t know by now. Biting your lip in anticipation and agitation, you decided to stay there for a while to watch people enter the club.

Not everyone could get inside, you got to realize that so far. Boys in a sweater and joggers? Nope. Girls without makeup or high heels? Nope. Any other person that looked wealthy and arrogant, maybe even dangerous? Sure, come on in.

That was probably one of your biggest problems: the audience, the clienté. Those people, who will be watching you move your ass on stage. Those people, who probably wouldn’t even think about shooting someone your skin color. It was dangerous, you knew that, but it was also your only chance to stay in Los Angeles. You take one more deep breath, straighten your posture as you walk towards the line, waiting until you were the one in front of the bouncer. He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to explain yourself while checking out your outfit.

“I want to…”, you cough, trying to control your shaky voice. “I want to dance for this club. My friend told me I could just come over to give you a sneak peak of what I’m able of?” The bouncer looked at you in confusion before speaking into his headset, unsure of what to do with the girl in front of him. You tried to resist the urge to bite on your bottom lip, not wanting to, first off: act like you’re weak and second: not wanting to smudge your gloss. His deep voice asks for your ID card, repeating your name, address and date of birth to the other person who probably must check your criminal past. Luckily, you had none that was written down by the police. With one last nod, he opened the curtain for you to walk through, wishing you good luck.

You were overwhelmed by everything that happened right now; your senses couldn’t even react to all the action around you. It didn’t smell like alcohol or sweat like most of the clubs you’ve been into, it actually smelt pretty nice; like a mixture of grapefruit, ginger and even coffee, maybe. Step for step, you dare to walk in further, carefully having an eye on the people that you passed on your way, one prettier than the other. Blonde goddesses, tall businessman, all dressed in Louis or Gucci. You looked down at your own outfit, frowning while doing so. It wasn’t anything expensive, nothing too daring and suddenly, you don’t feel as confident as you did a few minutes ago. You felt cheap, not worthy to dance in front of those people. As if they’d watch you, if they could enjoy a show by the other, prettier, more experienced dancers.

“Are you Y/N?”, a sudden voice tears you out of your thoughts, making you turn around with a quiet shriek. Right in front of you, there’s this woman and you could swear to god, she was the most attractive person you’ve ever seen. She was so tall, you had to tilt your head back to look her in the – bright blue, of course – eyes. She didn’t wear much make up, but she didn’t even need to. Her skin was flawless, her lashes long enough to just be coated by a simple layer of mascara and her lips, god her lips. They were covered in a nude gloss, looking so soft and plumb, you scolded yourself for always chewing on yours, which looked nothing like hers. “Yes, I am, ma’am. Y/N Y/L/N.”

The mysterious woman smiles down at you, offering you her perfectly manicured hand to shake. “I’m Lia, nice to meet you, honey. I got told you wanted to dance for us?” Her smile was still prominent, revealing two rows of beautiful teeth and two cute little dimples. You nod, still more than cowed by her appearance. “Don’t worry, love, our team is nice and loving, the girls will love you!”, Lia cheers while grabbing your hand and walking you to a huge door, typing in some code to open it, motioning for you to walk through it first. Somehow, you couldn’t help but grin at the hectic woman in front of you, nodding quickly while walking through the door with your head raised, making you look more self confident. Suddenly, you didn’t bother your outfit anymore, even though everyone else was dressed differently – it was your style, your dance and most importantly your body.

“You don’t need to be nervous, you won’t dance today, we just all need to get to know you first”, Lia smiles at you sympathetically while guiding you through the long hallway – the clubs music was nowhere to be heard anymore. “Currently, we’ve got 7 wonderful dancers, most of them are American, but we’ve got one beautiful Asian queen and a European goddess, we’d love to have someone like you in our team as well!” You cringed at her comment. ‘Someone like you’, what were you like? Were you different? Was it the tattoos or the color of your skin? “Oh, shit. I didn’t mean it like that!”, Lia cringes as well, trying to make the best out of the situation. “Don’t worry, it’s fine”, you mumble while looking around.

Just as if she was reading your mind, Lia points to another huge door. “There we are, it might be a bit confusing to walk through this long ass hallway, but Mister Dolan just wants us to be save from all those… people. You know, our clienté isn’t always the nicest, you’ve probably heard the story about our club and why it is called DEVILISH. But don’t worry, until now, nothing bad has ever happened, Gra- Mister Dolan just wants to know us in safety if something would happen.” You nod, waiting for Lia to enter the code to open the door, letting her step inside first this time.

“Okay, this is basically where we hang out before our show starts, we get ready in here, we eat in here and after the show, we could shower or take a bath in here as well. Mister Dolan offers each of us a room to sleep in whenever we need to make more customers, whenever we need a place to sleep or when we’re just too tired to head home, maybe having one too many drinks.” Lia smiles at the thought, she’s probably been sleeping here quite often. “He takes good care of us, Y/N, don’t listen to all those bad stories people tell about him. He has had a rough past, losing his brother like that, you know? I’m sorry for him”, she sighs before eyeing your outfit the second time this evening. “I love your skirt! And those shoes, god damned, I wanted to get them too, but I couldn’t figure out where to wear them. Well, by now I would know. Anyways, let’s find at least two of our lovely girls.” Lia starts walking through the different rooms, showing you the bathrooms with those luxurious bathtubs that made you think about the old one back in your apartment that you never used because you were kind of disgusted by how old and rusty it was. Usually, you’d just hop in the shower, scrub your body and jump out again before the cold water was actually hitting you. This seemed… nice.

Soon enough, you were introduced to a small Asian girl, also covered in tattoos, but a different style than yours. Hers were more comic book looking, some Ghibli figures dancing on her skin, some bright colorful ones, not fitting into your black and white scheme. “Oh my god, hi! I’m Yun Hee, but you can go for Yun, it’s easier and easier to remember, I guess. I’m glad we get another tatted bad bitch for our team!”, she hugs you, glitter spreading all over your body while you hesitantly wrap your arms around her as well. “I hope you’re going to make it, Mister Dolan is here tonight”, she whispers the last part into your ear, not looking at Lia, “He’s a sucker for his girls ass and can’t say no to a lap dance, especially when it comes to a girl with a body like yours.” Yun slapped your ass with a cheeky grin, watching as it bounces while you couldn’t hold in a small laughter. “I didn’t know I had to dance in front of him… I thought I’d just dance for you and you girls decide whether I’m in or not…”

Yun nodded with a knowing frown but got back to her cheerful self within seconds. “Anyways, I need to fix my make-up, I’m sure you’ll do fine! I’ll let Lia know to give you my number, tell me how it went then, okay?” Then, she was gone. And you? You were even more insecure, biting your lip in anticipation while looking around to find Lia. Instead, you stepped in front of the many full-length body mirrors, eyeing your outfit once more this evening, not sure if you want to do this anymore. You should’ve asked Yun about the costumers, the loan and Grayson Dolan.

“Y/N, there you are! Mister Dolan would like to see you perform, now. Don’t be nervous, I’m sure he’ll love you! I hope he does, good luck!”, with that, Lia pushes you through another door, leaving you alone in a dark room with dimmed lights, a little platform for you to stand on and a dark blue velour couch. You take in another deep breath, trying to calm down all your anxious thoughts before raising your head, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness.

And then you saw him. Erebus. El diablo. Grayson Dolan himself. Staring at him, you couldn’t move at all, hypnotized by his stunning looks, now understanding why he was named after the devil himself. He looked hot as hell.

“Hello, angel.” His deep chuckle brought you back from your trance, causing your breath to hitch slightly. You finally dared to really look at him, practically sucking in his appearance. His eyes even managed to sparkle in those lights, prominent eyebrows giving him that intimidating look and those, combined with his tight, chiseled jaw just left you like a shy little schoolgirl, dreaming of his attractive teacher. He tilted his head in amusement, raising one of those sharp brows at you. “Did something bite off your tongue? Or are you just so wet by just seeing me that you can’t move without dripping down your long thighs, baby?” Now it was your turn to raise your eyebrow, mocking his amused face while stepping towards him.

“Not the slightest, Mister Dolan. I came to dance for you and that’s what I’m going to do, yet I couldn’t get any preparation time. Is there any chance to change the lights and let me choose a song of my liking?” Your loose tongue causes his fists to clench, but he was somehow impressed, no girl would ever contradict him, especially none of those dancer girls. “Suit yourself, angel.” He crosses his arms while sliding back onto the couch with spread legs, making himself comfortable while taking a deeper look at your dark skin, covered in all those pieces of art. And that outfit, that no other of his girls would ever choose because it wasn’t as slutty, not as cliché. But on you, it looked amazing. You looked like a bad ass bitch – exactly what he was looking for these days. Mentally, he took a note on observing you the next couple weeks, minding something bigger for you already.

Soon enough, the lights turned a dark red, making you almost disappear as you slowly walked onto the platform as “DEVILISH” by Chase Atlantic started to fill the room.

SEVER OFF THE HEAD AND WATCH THE BODY FALL, SEE YOU IN THE DEPTHS, THAT AIN’T A METAPHOR.

SEX, BLOOD, FASHION DRIPPING HOLY WATER. HOLY SHIT, SHE WORSHIPPING MY DICK LIKE IT’S THE HOLY FATER.

As soon as the calming, yet rough voice fills your ears, you couldn’t help but slowly sway to the rhythm of the song you chose wisely – referring to Grayson, to his nightclub and his life. You’ve had lots of dancing experience, even took some pole dance classes, but dancing in front of the devil himself wasn’t something you could ever come prepared for. The beat started to get faster, making you run towards the pole and jump up on it, letting it turn you around multiple times with your head hanging low, bringing you closer to the floor with every rotation. Once your fingertips brushed past it, you let yourself fall until your back was hitting it as well, turning around to crawl onto the floor while opening your legs for him, humping the parquet twice.

TRIPLE THE SIX, I’M BLAMING YOUR GOD ‘CAUSE HE DON’T EXIST, I KEEP THE BEAT, ONLY TALK A FEW WEEKS THEN I CUT OFF YOUR WRISTS.

MEDICATION GOT MY HIGHER THAN HEAVEN BUT BRO I’M THE SHIT, BETTER FIX I SAVED FOR HADES, I’M POPPIN’ THE PILLS WHEN I’M SICK.

You didn’t dare to break the eye contact with the intimidating man in front of you, watching every of his reactions, trying to read his mind – but he was a professional in keeping his poker face up, not showing you any kind of emotion. Biting your lip in anticipation, you continue your dance routine, climbing back onto the pole until you were about to reach the ceiling, when you pushed your feet of the secureness, holding yourself up by just your arms while walking through the air, slowly circling around again. Then, just as the beat intensifies again, you press your back against the turning pole, crossing your feet over it while slowly tracing your silhouette with one of your hands. Your thick braids were flying through the air, your abs clenched, and you were slowly but sure getting out of breath, but you would never give up.

I ONLY EXIST TO FALL, HAPPENS LIKE THE GHOST OF GOD, I JUST WANT TO LET THEM GO. FEELING HOMESICK, FIRE UP THAT BLUNT, BITCH. SHUT UP.

DEVILISH, FUCKING WITH MY GUYS, YUH. I MAKE SACRIFICES, YOU MAKE LIES UP. HEAVEN LOST AN ANGEL WHEN I SIGNED UP, I MIGHT FUCK YOUR FRIEND, I MADE MY MIND UP.

Just as the music hits its peak, you pulled yourself up with your right hand, bringing your legs over your head in a split, spinning the pole even faster than before. Your legs were now above you, your head stretched away from the pole and hands working as wings, as you slow down a bit, winding around it like a snake. Taking a deep breath, knowing the next move must be perfect, you jump back up to the highest point, wrapping your legs around the pole as you let yourself hang from it like a bat, opening your arms while waiting for the next beat drop. Once it comes, you let yourself fall to the floor in a horrific pace, a move you usually just dared to show off when you were drunk. Just as your nose was about to hit the floor, you quickly let go of the pole with a somersault.

Grayson raised an eyebrow, impressed with your performance and shifting in his seat while waiting what’s next to come. You couldn’t hide a smirk while crawling towards him with swinging hips, enjoying the desirable glance he shoots towards you.

I’M DEVILISH, YUH. I’M DEVILISH, YUH. I’M DEVILISH, YUH. I’M DEVILISH, YUH.

Looking up at Grayson with a slightly innocent look, you climb up on his lap, debating whether to touch him or not. This man was out of your league, yet, you had to compel him, to seduce him like you would with any other man that was watching you perform. Without even thinking about it twice, you grab the collar of his dress shirt, playing with it while smiling down at him. You didn’t press your crotch against his – yet -, but you could feel his hips move to the beat as well, eyeing your entire body up and down

It wasn’t part of your choreography, but you bite your lip while placing his huge hands on your hips and pull off your fishnet shirt with them, wrapping it around his neck as if it was a scarf, giving him a view seconds to enjoy the view of your impressive cleavage. Then, you turn around quickly, pressing your back against his toned chest while using his hands again to roam your body, while wriggling around in his lap in a slow pace.

DEVILISH, SAY THE PART YOU LOVE ME, YUH. I DON’T WANNA TALK, JUST SAY THE PART YOU LOVE ME, YUH.

SETTLE DOWN, YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE ME DRIVE THE DEVIL OUT, YOU DON’T WANNA SEE MY DEMONS IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE, YOU DON’T WANNA FACE DAMAGE IN YOUR MENTAL HOUSE.

Once the slow part was over and the beat dropped again, your let yourself fall right down onto his dick, earning a quiet gasp from Grayson, his hands tightening around your waist as you started to grind down on him, hands buried in his perfect styled hair. Just as his hands were about to travel further down your waist and you feel something starting to grow underneath you, you get out of his lap to dance around him while softly pressing down onto his shoulder. Once you were standing behind him, you let your nose brush against his neck, breathing in his heavy but delicious after shave, knowing that this man had to smell good. Your clothed tits were pressed against his shoulders as you gently bit down onto his earlobe, loving the way he twitched underneath you. Placing your hands on the couch upholstery, you lifted yourself up in a handstand above him, rolling down back onto his lap as the song finally comes to an end.

I TAKE DRUGS ON THE DAILY, I TAKE PITY ON THE PEOPLE WHO TRY TO SAVE ME, GOD DOESN’T EXIST AND EVEN IF HE COULD, OH BITCH YOU WOULD NEVER CATCH ME PRAYING.

Within seconds, you had your shirt back on and were standing in front of Grayson, raising an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to say anything. He, on the other hand, keeps on looking at you, burning you with his stare. Just as you grew impatient, he opened his mouth. “Where have you been all my life, angel?” He stands up, walking right up to you while pressing his warm palm against your cheek, almost stroking you. “Definitely not here, Mister Dolan”, you chuckle as you stepped back once more. “Well, what is your opinion on me, Sir? Will I be able to dance for your clienté?” He hated the fact that you were running away from his touch, but he loved playing games, he loved a challenge.

“Well, Miss Y/L/N”, he chuckled in his intimidating deep voice, “I do think you’d fit in perfectly, but”, he stopped once more, just to build up some tension, “why would I let you dance for me, angel? What would you do to deserve your wings? How important is this job for you? Tell me your story.” He was way too interested in her to just let her go like this, no. He needed to know everything, needed to know if she was the one. The woman he was seeking for, the woman he needed to finish off his plans.

“I’m sorry to tell you, Mister Dolan, but I don’t think my past is important for you to hire me, isn’t it? All you need to know it that I’m available on the daily, I will dance for you, your friends and your… costumers. I don’t mind if it’s one man or twelve, I’d still be up for it if the payment is high enough. I’m not for free, you won’t be able to bring me down, I went through way too much to be ordered around by another gang member, even if it’s the leader this time. So, you could either hire me and make some money with my body – a body like no other of your girls has- or I could pay your sweet brother a visit to see what he thinks of my dancing skills. Because I for sure know what’s going on with you two, Mister Dolan. I’m sick of deciding which gang my family belongs to, you know?”, your walk towards him, showing him that you weren’t afraid of him. The thought of your brother, killed by the rival gang, made you feel powerful.

“I once chose my side, don’t let me regret it.” You lift the left side of your bra a bit up, showing off the devil tarot card that held Jalen’s name hidden on your ribcage, always near your heart. “I’m not an angel, nor am I as innocent as you might think, but I am willing to fight for my survival. I am willing to fight for my family, even though I might have lost an important member of it. So, I wouldn’t wait another second to team up with Ethan’s gang, because I don’t want to starve to death, but my brother was part of the diablo’s , I guessed it would be just the best to follow his footsteps.”

Grayson’s eyes widen in shock before he frowns, pulling you even closer to look at the healed tattoo – you had to have it for quite some time now, not seeing any fresh ink or crust to show some healing process. “How long?”, he mumbles while secretly checking out your other tattoos. You didn’t even have to think about it for a long time, always remembering the night you got the tattoo together with Jalen.

“About three years ago, when my brother got his tattoo, he made me get the same one – I didn’t know what it meant, though. I thought it was like a brother-sister thing to do, get matching tattoos and stuff. But once he…”, you cough to swallow the lump in your throat, trying to find your voice again, “But once he died, I quickly found out what that tattoo meant. He wanted me to be safe if something happens to him. I knew I never had some receptive ritual or something like that, but I already have the tattoo – wouldn’t it be a shame to get it covered by Gabriel?”

“It would be a total shame, princess. You deserve an angel on your skin, but not that one”, he walks around you, acting like he’s inspecting you, as if he hadn’t seen enough of you during your performance. “Who was your brother, darling? Must have been someone I know, otherwise he wouldn’t be that confident of me securing his little sister.” Well, you haven’t thought through that part of you actually telling Grayson who your brother was, not knowing which position he had in the gang or if Grayson even liked him. On the other hand, you really didn’t want to know what your brother did, whether it was a simple drug deal or being the cause of someone’s death. It doesn’t matter, just because of this gang shit, Jalen ended up being the death one.

“Jalen, Sir. Jalen Y/L/N..“, you mumbled while lowering your head, afraid of his reaction. “Jalen? Jalen had a sister?”, Grayson raised his eyebrows once more, balling his hands to tight fists. “I never knew about his family. Okay, listen to me, Y/N. You should’ve been searching for me a long time ago, Jalen didn’t die for no reason, you got me?” You just nodded; eyes wide in shock.

“Jalen was somewhat of my right hand, he helped me do… lots of things, I guess. But they know who he was, probably checked out his family as well, but nobody ever knew he had a sister.” Grayson paces through the room, the red light making him look even angrier than he already was. “Where are your parents?” Biting your lip, you quickly answered. “Gone, they moved away as soon as they found out about his death – but I couldn’t leave the city I grew up in, I’ve got too many memories here. And I want revenge.” Your voice sounded stronger than you felt in this moment, but Grayson looked at you with an impressed glance, nodding in agreement. “That’s what I wanted to hear, angel. Okay, here’s what I could give to you: a place to stay that’s absolutely safe, money or whatever you’ll need to keep living your life and I promise you: you’ll get your revenge. But I need you to do something as well, angel. Are you willing to do something for me in return?”

“Yes, Sir. But you don’t need to do all those things for me, I’d be fine with a somewhat good paid job. I don’t need a new place to live in…”, you suddenly grew nervous again, not knowing what he had up for you. “Really, I don’t want to bother you, Mister Dolan.” “Stop talking, would ya? As Jalens sister, I owe you more than you think. This man saved my life way too many times.” He shakes his head with a chuckle before continuing. “And don’t worry, my house has more than enough rooms, I wouldn’t even know you’re there. Anyways, I think you’d look quite good by my side, don’t you think? So, in return I want you to keep me company whenever I need to do important stuff. I want you to dress up pretty for me, lull my business partners and who knows, maybe you could be the one to finally ruin my brother. I know you’ve got your brothers blood in your veins as well. You’re a fighter, angel. Would you like to fight on my side?”

Grayson steps towards you, placing his hands on your waist as he whispers the last couple words against your lips, leaving you gasp in excitement. “You sure, Sir? I don’t know if I’d look that good by your side, I-“ “Oh angel, you don’t know how you’d look in Louis, in Gucci or even in Balenciaga? All those brands would be glad if you wore them, pretty girl. Where’s that skirt from, Forever 21? You deserve better.” His soothing words left you with goosebumps along your spine, making you shudder under his touch. “It’s actually H&M…”, you whispered, ashamed of your cheap outfit that probably hasn’t even cost half the price of his underwear. His fingertips were currently tracing your jawline while you were still thinking about his offer.

“What do you mean by living in your house, though? I mean… I do have my own apartment, there’s no need of me moving in with you. But I’d totally be fine with escorting you to your business meetings. And I wouldn’t say no to a nice dress. I came to dance, so that’s one thing I’d love to do for your club, Mister Dolan”, you giggled at the thought of something more expensive covering your body, knowing that Grayson wouldn’t be hesitating in buying you all the designers you loved. “I just offered you anything you could dream of, but you still want to dance in front of hungry men? What did I just got myself into”, he chuckled while nodding in agreement. “Fine, you can put on your show on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but on the other days, your body will me mine, angel. And about the living situation: we’ll be discussing that later, for now you can go home and think about everything. Tomorrow, you’ll be having a little shopping spree on your own, okay?” He hands you his credit card while grinning down at you. “Visit La Perla for me, darling. I bet you’d look great in salmon colored silk.” With that, he left you standing alone in that dimmed light, holding nothing but a black credit card in your hands – not knowing what to do with it.

“So, you’re really telling me that he not only offered you a job, but also to live with him in his freaking mansion? And that you denied that?”, Zavi shakes her head at you, blowing nose through her nose in disapproval. The two of you were currently wandering through your local mall, searching for some nice stage outfits. Grayson’s credit card was burning holes through your wallet, but you denied on using it, not wanting to waste any of his money for something you’d earn your own money with. Just as you walked past a small store called La Perla, you smirked while pulling Zavi with you into it. “Y/N! This store is out of our price range, c’mon, even looking at those pieces will make me poor”, Zavi whined as you showed her Grayson’s credit card. “It’s on el diablo. Don’t worry, I guess he won’t even realize that some money is missing. He told me to spoil myself, so why not spoiling my best friend too?” You shrugged while looking through the different lingerie sets, some of them out of complete mesh, others of lace – which you absolutely adored, packing 4 sets into your basket, knowing they’d look stunning on your body. But one pair of silky lingerie caught your eye, salmon colored and absolutely wonderful, you didn’t even dare to touch it. Zavi didn’t even bother to put that one into your basket as well, grinning at you while showing off her teeth. “Make him greedy for you, girl. Try it on, I need to see it!” She shoved you into the dressing room, handing you your basket after putting some more lingerie in there.

You put on one after another set, actually feeling yourself and smiling into the mirror with such a confidence, you couldn’t help but step out to show Zavi your favorite set so far – the one that Grayson suggested. It pushed up your tits to their maximum without looking too fake, but those panties were a different level. They were short, revealing but sitting on your hips like they were meant to be there. You turned around, showing her the fabric that was hidden in between your cheeks, showing the roundness of them perfectly. “Fuck, Y/N you look so hot, you’re driving my pan sexual ass crazy”, Zavi moaned at the view you gave her. Just then, you saw a familiar silhouette passing the dressing rooms, making you chuckle. “Hey stranger, what do you think of it? Or would you like to enjoy a show later on?” You would’ve guessed it was Grayson, following you on your little trip to see if you were about to spend his last coin, but the person that was now standing in front of you definitely wasn’t Grayson. “Oh, that color suits you pretty well. But let me tell you, I bet baby blue suits your skin even better.” You stood there in shock, not being able to speak up while letting your eyes travel the person that looked so similar to Grayson that it couldn’t be a coincidence. “Oh, I’m sorry, what a shame to not introduce myself. I am Ethan”, he holds out his hand for you to shake and as soon as your smaller one touched his, you felt instant rage boiling up your skin. But instead, you smiled.

“Well, hello Ethan. I’m Y/N, always up for help when it comes to finding a new style. Is there anything specific you’d suggest for me?”

You instantly regret going out in your sweatpants and some tank top you found laying on your floor, your face was free of any make up, wishing you had at least put some effort in doing your eyebrows. It was a one time chance to meet Ethan Grant Dolan, talking to him without him knowing who you were. “Oh, for sure, pretty girl. I see, you already chose some lace, that’s always been a secret love of mine, I adore women in lace”, Ethan closes his eyes, imagining you stripping down in front of him, wearing nothing but those see-through lace panties.

“Yeah, I can totally imagine you in that set”, he pointed over to a cute baby blue set with flowery lace detailing. “Oh, Ethan, this is so pretty!”, you smiled at the set, putting it into your basket willingly. On the inside, you were rolling your eyes at him being that easy to compel. Shouldn’t he be crying over his dead wife? This Ethan wasn’t someone you expected him to be.

“Let me buy that for you, Y/N. It’s going to be my treat for you, hoping I’d be the one to see you wearing it one day.” “Oh, Ethan, I can’t accept that, this lingerie is way to expensive to let a stranger pay for me…”, you pouted while Zavi giggled.

“You like being a challenge, huh? I won’t be a stranger to you for long, baby”, he grabbed the lingerie to go and pay for it while you rolled your eyes as soon as he was out of your sight. “Such a fucking dumbass”, you huffed to your best friend. “As if I’d be in to fuck the guy that-“

“Here I am, babe.” Ethan hands you a little bag while smirking at you. “I put my number in there as well, I surely hope you’re giving me a call or at least some pictures to strengthen my opinion on you in lace.” He kisses your cheek before winking at Zavi one last time, disappearing into the crowd of people outside that store.

Later that night, when you finally unpacked all the clothes and make up you bought, you decided on enjoying a nice bath and some Sushi in the tub while listening to music. Sadly, your pampering night got interrupted by the annoying ring tone of your phone, the display showing some unknown number. “Hello?”, you asked while chewing on a big chunk of avocado maki, snorting at the amount of wasabi you put on that piece. “Angel.” Grayson’s soft voice made you almost drop your chopsticks into the water, choking on the Sushi. “Mister Dolan.” You tried to sound professional, but which professional would ever decide on eating maki in their bathtub? “How is my princess? I was hoping to see you tonight, there’s still some things we need to figure out. Are you free?” “I guess I am, Sir. When and where to you want to meet up?” Opening the drain, you stepped out of the tub while grabbing a towel from your heater, wrapping it around your body and looking for your body lotion.

“I don’t mind coming over to your house, would you?” Grayson asked casually, causing you to sigh in relief. “I’d like that, Mister Dolan. Would mean I don’t need to get dressed nicely”, you giggled while walking towards your bedroom, looking through all those beautiful pieces of lingerie you got with his – and Ethan’s - credit card today. “Fine, I’ll be there soon, angel.”

Minutes have passed and you grew more and more nervous, debating whether to wear something nice or casual, whether to wear make up or not. Well, you chose the same pair of sweatpants from before combined with a basic tight black crop top, trying to look at least somewhat sexy. Not knowing what Grayson had on his mind, you just set your brows in place with some brow gel but didn’t waste time on foundation or mascara. Then, your doorbell interrupted your upcoming anxiety attack, leaving you with one more spritz of your perfume before rushing to open the door. And there he was, dressed quite casually, some lose dress pants combined with a simple black hoodie – but he managed to still look stunning. “Good evening, angel”, he grinned at you while shrugging his shoes off. “Can I come in?”

You just nod, still perplexed about how different he looked from yesterday, but you instantly felt so miserable standing next to him in your dirty joggers. “Sure.” Stepping aside, you allow him to come into your cozy little apartment. “Do you want anything to drink? To smoke?” Grayson shakes his head, but you decided to grab a beer just to calm your nerves. “I don’t really have much space to sit, is the couch okay for you, Mister Dolan?”, you bit your lip in discomfort, you’ve never been ashamed about your living situation, but you knew he was used to something much better. “Everything’s fine, angel”, he places his hand on the small of your back while guiding you to your own living room. Once the two of you sat down, Grayson looked at you with such an intimidating look that gave you instant goosebumps.

“So, what I’ve been wanting to talk about was our contract stuff. I know you want to dance for me, but you know that I’ve got different plans for you, right? It wasn’t just a wish of mine to have you move in with me, Y/N. I want you to live by my side from now on, not just as my coworker, more like a… girlfriend. It is hard for me to do all the business meetings alone, to attend anything without someone by my side. The problem is, I can’t trust most people around here. I mean, I could choose any girl from the gang, but… most of them are manlier than I am”, Grayson chuckles while looking at you, “Would you be okay with that? Just keeping me company. You wouldn’t have to dance for all those men, you could be by my side, in my house and live your best life while doing one, two things for me. To be honest, I’ve got plans, most of them maybe not as easy as pole dancing. But I feel like I could trust you – I know that I can trust you, let alone because of Jalen. I owe you something, angel.”

Grayson el diablo Dolan wanted you not to only move in with him, but be some sort of his girlfriend? Shaking your head in shock, you chugged down most of your beer before starring at him in confusion. “Mister Dolan, I don’t understand...” “Grayson”, he interrupted you. “Huh?”, you raised an eyebrow at him, more confused than before. “My name’s Grayson, don’t always call me ‘Mister Dolan’ or ‘el diablo’ that’s kind of weird, you know?” You gulped but shrugged your shoulders.

“Fine, I don’t care what to call you, so Grayson it is. Okay, Grayson. Don’t you think there’s some kind of love needed to ask someone to be their girlfriend? Instead of just asking someone jobwise. I mean, I’m honored, but… I feel like this is so wrong. I’m not an escort or anything like that – and I barely know you. What I know is that you can be really, really dangerous, that you own more money than I could ever dream off and that you could probably pay prettier and more graceful woman to go out with you. I’m not the one to be in the spotlight, Gray”, the nickname slipped off your tongue so easily that you didn’t even bother to correct yourself, “I need to be the girl in the shadows, the mysterious one that dances a few times a week and that’s it. If I was the one by your side, everyone would know me. I’d be everyone’s target.” There it was, the side you didn’t want to show anyone that works – or owns – DEVILISH. Your insecure, anxious self.

But Grayson was fast to react, cupping your face with his large hands, suddenly a soft sparkle in his eyes. “Listen, Y/N. The moment I saw you, I knew that I had to have you. Before you even started to dance, I knew what kind of ride you were – the first girl ever to open her mouth and be not up into my ass like all the others. I’m usually not the type to ask for anything, you should know that. But let me phrase it properly: Will you, Y/N, be my girlfriend? Or will you at least be willing to get to know me better?” He smiled that smile that would melt thousand of hearts in seconds, but you were still frowning, not sure of this situation. “I am willing of getting to know you, Grayson”, you bite your lip while nodding shyly, “But I still want to dance, you know that. I want to get paid the way you pay all your dancers, no benefits, okay? Dancing will be my job, we’ll see about the rest – that will start only in our private time, okay? You can invite me to dinner, I love sushi. Tomorrow, 7PM?” Out of nowhere, you got your confidence back, grinning at the man in front of you. Grayson couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ve got myself a feisty one, huh? But fine, sushi it is. Wear something nice, though, I may or may not want to take you to another club afterwards”, he winks at you before standing up, looking down at you. “Mind escorting me to the door?” You nod, getting up as well and throwing your braids into a knot, relaxing your neck while doing so. “Oh, by the way. I met the other Dolan twin today. It was quite… interesting, I’d say. He even bought me those”, you giggled while lowering the waist band of your joggers, revealing some of the baby blue lace Ethan bought you earlier that day. “That dumbass even gave me his number, wanting me to send some pics in those.” You rolled your eyes, huffing at the thought of this greasy guy.

Grayson’s eyes widen at your confession, sitting back down on the couch in disbelief. “You met Ethan? And you didn’t tell me earlier? What did he say? What did he do? Does he know who you are? Oh, no, he couldn’t know. Are you going to call him?” “Grayson calm down! He was so weird, acting all flirty and stuff. I mean, I tried to flirt back, but I couldn’t because I kept thinking of Jalen. I still kept his number, though. What do you think?” You sat down next to him, popping your legs on the couch table while looking at the bill that kept Ethan’s number on it. Grayson scratched his beard, thinking about all those possibilities to ruin his brother.

“Tease him, send him pictures, try to get in his pants, I guess. But that would mean you couldn’t be the girl by my side… Mh. Fuck, Y/N that’s one of the best chances I’ve ever got. Okay, wait. Let’s do it like that: we’re still going out, doing all that official business stuff but you keep on hitting on Ethan, trying to convince him that you hate me with all your guts but you’re still with me because of my money, how’s that?”

You scrunched your nose at his idea, shaking your head no. “I’m not the type of girl to do that, Gray. It would be too obvious to be with both of you, don’t you think? I mean, Ethan doesn’t seem that dumb. But, I may or may not have a friend that he flirted to as well. I think she’d be up for it. She loves a challenge – and a good dick to ride on. How’s that? I just slip Zavi Ethan’s number, telling her to send some lingerie pics to him, trying to drive him crazy. And once he’s far up her ass, we’re destroying him and his business.” You raised an eyebrow, giving Grayson an asking look while typing Ethan’s number into your phone, sending Zavi the contact.

“Girl, I love you, I can officially say that. You’re a genius! But I got to say”, he eyes you from head to toe, smirking while doing so, “I think I’d still prefer salmon colored lace or silk on your body. Was your shopping day successful, angel?” You nod with a wide smile, thinking about all those luxurious lingerie sets that were ready to wear in your closet. “Yeah, it was wonderful. I was quite surprised though, I look fine as hell in salmon.” Grayson groaned quietly, nodding his head. “I bet you do, angel. I bet you do. I can’t wait to see it, mind to give me a show? I mean, I paid for it”, he winked at you, making you pout. “But I wanted to wear them for my first dance.”

“Dance for me, then.” Grayson kept his eyes on you, a soft smirk still plastered onto his beautiful lips while you stand up, basically running into your room to change into a nicer outfit. If Grayson wanted a show, he’s totally going to get one. Stripping out of your nasty clothes, you quickly slipped into your new lingerie set after removing the tags on them, turning around in front of your mirror with a proud smile on your lips. Salmon truly looked amazing on you, Grayson was right. You didn’t have a pole montaged into your living room, so you need to improvise in that, probably going for a lap dance or a striptease. One of your new favorite pieces you just bought today was a skin-tight dress made from black faux leather, hugging and stretching around your curves. It had so much cleavage, that you were unsure if your boobs were about to fall out during your dance, but they’d see them anyways – who cares? The back was something different, though. It was held by many straps, covered in rivets, giving it some sort of grunge vibe. To that, you’d usually wear some of your combat boots or over knees, but since you were at home anyways, you went barefoot.

Once you came back into the living room, you saw Grayson on his phone, probably checking up with his gang mates or whatever an important gang leader must do in his free time. Little did you know was that he already booked your dinner at this really fancy sushi place. You walk up to him, coughing quietly. “What’s your favorite song, Gray? What would you like to see me dance to?” You ask while standing in between his legs, caressing his thighs with your thumbs. Grayson lays his head back to take your appearance in, sighing at the view of your hips in that tight ass dress. “Fuck, angel”, he moans while gripping onto your love handles. “You could dance to anything and nothing, I wouldn’t mind at all. Look at you, girl.” He pulls you down onto his lap, smoothing out your braids over your back. “The worst thing is, I kind of know what’s underneath, but I haven’t seen it. So, what about me just ripping off that beautiful dress?”

You shake your head in amusement, standing up again before connecting your phone to the Bluetooth speaker, choosing ‘American Money’ by BØRNS. As soon as the soft bass starts, you sway your hips in front of Grayson, but he just shakes his head, pulling you back onto his lap while holding your chin between his fingers. “I can’t watch you just dance for now, babygirl”, his nose traces your jawline, inhaling your flowery scent with another groan while his hands explore your body. “I need to see you, need to taste you”, he mutters with closed eyes – leaving you almost paralyzed. His fingertips were melting into you skin, while his body was practically molding against yours, leaving no free space for anything. Opening his eyes again, Grayson traces the thin straps of your dress, biting his lip. “This makes you look so naughty, angel. Doesn’t it?” You nod, seeking for more than just his fingertips on your body, aching for his rough touch. “Grayson, please”, you mewl, rolling your lips between your teeth and looking down at him. “Please what, baby? Please, stop?” He grins, waiting for your answer. “No! Please, continue. Please, touch me. Please, remove this fucking dress”, you squirm around in his lap, searching for at least some friction.

“But, Y/N, I thought I came just to talk?”, he removes his hand from your collarbones, smiling innocently at you. Your blood was boiling, not wanting to waste any chance of getting Grayson into your bed. “Yeah, you did, but now I want you to fuck me, Mister Dolan.” Grayson loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, but he loved the sparkle you had in your eyes even more. “What was that, doll?” He needed to hear it once more, needed to hear her begging for more. “I want you to touch me, Gray.” Raising an eyebrow, Grayson gently rubs her back, her hair and her shoulders. “Like this?” You shake your head, whining in impatience. “No, you idiot. I want your hands here”, you place his large hands over your tits, helping him to squeeze them while grinding down on his slowly hardening dick, “while I need your tongue down there.”

His hands were fast to move to the bottom of her dress, rolling it up and revealing the fantastic set of lace that she bought just for him. Grayson breathed out through his opened lips, not believing what he was seeing. “Fuck, I fucking told you”, he emphasizes while quickly laying you down onto the couch, hovering over you with lust filled eyes. His fingers move to the already damp fabric, slowly tracing those flowers out of lace. Squirming, you were the one to remove your dress completely, enjoying his stare with a wide grin. “Look at what you bought, Mister Dolan. Don’t I look pretty for you?” “You look amazing, babygirl. You look like the queen you deserve to be”, Grayson breathes out as he picked you up, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Just as you were about to tell him, Grayson’s phone began to ring, causing him to set you back onto the floor, picking up his phone with a groan. “What?”, he snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose, shooting you a sorry smile which you just shrugged off as you took another sip of your beer to calm your nerves down. You were really about to go there, even though you know nothing about this man besides that he’s fucking dangerous. On the other hand, he could give you anything you wanted, he could make your life hundred times better than it was by now. He had the opportunities – you didn’t. And by now, he was nothing but nice to you, as if he really wanted you by his side. “Taehyung, I already told you not to go that far all by yourself! I swear to god, if you get hurt, I’ll fucking shoot you!” Grayson’s loud voice dragged you out of your thoughts, making you look into his direction in confusion. He quickly mouthed a ‘sorry’ combined with an apologetic grin before continuing to talk. “Just take care, man. Alright, good luck, I’ll be there soon.”

You laughed as soon as Grayson had shoved his phone back into his pockets. “Don’t your own men listen to you, Mister Dolan? Where’s the authority?” Grayson laughed along with you. “Taehyung isn’t one of my… men. He’s most likely my best friend that wants to save my ass more often than I could save his. Speaking of, I need to head over to him before he ends up in the hospital once more.” He presses one soft kiss onto your blushing cheeks before walking towards the door. “I’m sure you’d like him too, but I need you to get to like me first! Tomorrow, 7 PM!”, he shouts before leaving into the dark night, doing whatever he needed to do.

Once your clock hit 6 PM, your nerves started to go wild again. You were pacing around your flat, trying to clean up even though you just spent an entire day cleaning just to calm down. Of course, you were already dressed and did your make up, but you’ve been changing your dress at least 5 times, drew your eyebrows on twice and couldn’t decide for the perfect lip gloss for another solid 15 minutes. Grayson stressed you out, even though your “date” hasn’t even started yet. You spent the entire night thinking about what he had said to you, about the girlfriend thing and living with him, but you were still unsure. He has been nice to you two times, but you didn’t know him, didn’t know what he does in his “job” and you didn’t know if he would be loyal or if all of this would be just for the outer world. All you knew about him was that he was fucking powerful – and that scared you.

At 6.54 PM, Grayson texted you to come outside, so you quickly applied one more layer of lip gloss before slipping into your heels and heading out. Gasping, you couldn’t help but adore the car he was standing in front of: a dark grey Corvette Z06, one of your most favorite cars in the entire world. “Fuck, Grayson”, you basically moaned, walking towards the car, touching it with sparkling eyes. “Hello to you too, angel”, Grayson laughed before pulling you into his arms softly, pressing a kiss to both your cheeks. “I see you like my car for the night?” You not quickly, smiling at him. “Can I drive?” Grayson’s chest moved against your head as he chuckled, looking at you in amusement. “Not tonight, this is one of my favorite cars, I wouldn’t even trust Tae to drive it. C’mon get in!” He guided you to the passenger’s side, opening the door for you and watched you get in before closing it, running over to his side. Once he started the motor, you couldn’t contain your envy. “I will be your girlfriend if I can drive this car. The interior is even better, this car is pure sex.” “Keep on talking angel and we won’t make it to the restaurant”, Grayson glanced at you while maneuvering the car through the traffic, soft beats coming out of the speakers while Los Angeles’ skyline passed your windows.

“It is so beautiful at night, yet so dangerous”, you mutter with a sad expression on your face, thinking about the night you heard about Jalen’s death. “It is, but who am I to judge?”, Grayson answers, leaving the car in silence again. He was right, you thought. If his and his brother wouldn’t be in those gangs, your brother would probably still be alive. Grayson breaks the comfortable silence shortly after, announcing that you arrived at the sushi place.

“Urasawa? Grayson, this is literally the most expensive place. Believe me, I’m fine with ‘Roll Roll Roll’, really. No need to spent hundreds of dollars for some raw fish…”, you mumbled as you gawked at the luxurious restaurant, but Grayson ignored you, opening your door and holding out his arm for you to hold on to. Sighing, you stepped out of the comfortable car, grabbing Grayson’s muscular biceps as you walked in together. One of the waitresses came up to you, showing you your booth as soon as Grayson mentioned his name, leaving you two in the most private area after taking your orders.

“So, Y/N, why don’t you tell me something about yourself? Did you go to university?”, Grayson asked as he took a sip of his water. You played with the water droplets that were running down your own glass, shaking your head. “No. I was about to go to university, but then Jalen died, I needed to help my parents pay for his funeral. Then, I fell in some kind of black hole, couldn’t handle my own feelings and decided to take some time off. Well, I never applied after that, working here and there to pay my rent. College wasn’t a topic for me ever since. By now, I’m too old to attempt, I guess. Did you?” Not wanting to talk about you all night, you decided to ask him some questions too, wanting to know everything about him and his life. Grayson nodded.

“I did, but only two years, never finished because… well, the gang happened. Ethan and I were both going to UCLA, I studied law and forensic studies, while Ethan went for art and humanities – even though our dad wanted us to study architecture. But then, things got weird and difficult with us, so we stopped and went our own ways, you probably know the story”, Grayson shrugged as the waitress brought your food. You smiled at her as she placed the plate in front of you, Grayson didn’t even look at her. Once she was gone, you tried to get him talking more. “What happened between Ethan and you? I know what the street says, but I want your story.” “You should eat, Y/N. We can talk about this another time.”

The rest of the dinner went on with some small talk, but you learned quite some things about Grayson. He loved wasabi, even ate it without pieces of sushi. He didn’t do drugs, even though he was one of the biggest drug lords out there – he hated people that bought from him, but he makes his money with him, so who would he be to decline that? His mother and his sister are still in contact with Ethan, but not him. His dad passed away because of cancer, which caused him to donate around a million Dollars to a children’s hospice. You frowned, feeling bad for him and his loss, but also admiring him for his strength to still lead that empire on his own – starting to hate Ethan more and more. “Don’t worry, I’m fine by now. Learned to hold my head higher than they do. I don’t get called el diablo for nothing”, Grayson winked at you while eating his last piece of sushi, making you giggle, but also smile in admiration. “What is your favorite childhood memory?” You asked while continuing to eat, curious if he’d tell you something about his past. Grayson remained quiet, obviously thinking about it before answering. “Probably something with my dad. Whenever Ethan was sick, dad and I would go out and do things on our own. It was fun, almost like I was an only child, not having to share experiences with my twin, you know? Full attention on me. Not having to share dad or mom, something like that”, he shrugs. Nodding, you finished your sushi as well, laying back in your chair to relax your stomach. “I’m so full”, you groaned with an exhausted laugh, Grayson joining in. “You ate more than I expected, not that it’s a bad thing. Usually the girl I take on business meetings with me just eat some appetizers. I must’ve looked like Son Goku next to them, eating all the time.” Smiling, the two of you kept having a comfortable conversation, getting to know each other better and better, leaving you with the thought that Grayson wasn’t a monster at all.

Days have passed, conversations were shared, and memories already made. By now, you knew that Grayson wasn’t the tough man he pretends to be, you found his soft spot, even though you’ve been now living with him for little less than a month. You decided the day after your date night, that Grayson was right: you two were meant to be. All your worries were for nothing, Grayson cared about you as much as you learned to care about him. Including staying up the entire night whenever he didn’t come home, cleaning his wounds whenever he got into a fight and helping him with any paperwork that was bothering him. A smile stole its way onto your lips as you thought about your argument during your second week of living with him.

You just got into the car with Grayson, glitter covering your body, barefoot and an exhausted look on your face. “You tired, angel?”, Grayson hold your hand while driving, caressing it with his thumb. “Mh, yeah”, you yawn, head pressed against the window, about to close your eyes. He looked over at you, smiling, while he realized something on your exposed neck. His grip got tighter; eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that on your neck?” “Hmm?” “Is that a hickey, Y/N?” Turning your head in confusion, you rolled your eyes at him. “Probably something you did last night, babe.” Grayson shook his head. “I didn’t, this time. What happened during that privat dance? I told you not to make out with any of your costumers!” You shot him a glance that could kill – if Grayson wasn’t already used to your stubborn head. “Thank you for calling them ‘costumers’ as if I was some slut fucking for payment. I dance, Grayson. I don’t even strip that often, remember? You should, because you’re always there when I’m on stage. That private dance was just me on the pole, I didn’t even give him a lap dance, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it definitely isn’t a hickey.” Rolling your eyes, you laid your head back again, huffing at his assumptions. Soon enough, Grayson’s finger was tracing your neck, touching the ‘hickey’ – and realizing that it stuck to his fingers. “Ew”, he said, looking at his index finger, causing you to break out in a massive laughter. “That, my dear, is lipstick. My own lipstick, to be exact.”

That night, Grayson ended up showing you who you really belong to – him, no one else.

That night, you stopped dancing for clienté, leaving Grayson to be the only one to enjoy your hips swinging to slow music.

That night, you fell in love with Grayson, because you realized he actually cared for you.

Smiling, you looked down at your intertwined fingers, gently squeezing Grayson’s hand as the two of you walked towards the empty beach, large cones with ice cream in your hands. “I’m glad this part of town is mine, I wouldn’t know what to do without Marco’s ice cream”, Grayson confesses while happily licking at his lemon ice cream. You nod, stuffing your face with the mixture of hazelnut and melon you chose, leaving Grayson cringing. “I don’t get your taste.” “I can never eat just milk ice cream, but just fruity ice cream is boring either. So, the only logical thing to do is just pick one of each”, you shrug as you bite into your cone. “Never liked that though”, you hand him the waffle as soon as every drop of ice cream was in your mouth. Grayson takes it, basically eating it in one piece, speaking as he was still chewing. “How can someone not like the waffle?” You shrugged, nudging his side and you started to run down the street, enjoying the wind in your hair, laughing as Grayson started to sprint towards you, trying to run faster than him. “I don’t need a girl that’s fitter than I am, Y/N!”, he laughs as he finally catches you, pulling you closer to him and pressing a soft peck onto your nose. Then, he wraps one of his arms around you, hugging you from the side while walking towards the soft breeze of Venice Beach. “Haven’t been here since… you know”, you whispered as you slowed down, terrified and anxious about your feelings. Were you ready to get confronted with that? “It took me a while to come back too. But I want to show you something. Jalen once told me how he imagined some nice guy taking you here, walking with you on the beach, enjoying the comfortable silence. Are you okay with me being that nice guy tonight? Fuck it, not just tonight. Always.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, allowing you to just nod. “Just… don’t leave me there, be by my side, okay? I don’t think I could handle it all by myself.” Grayson’s eyes got soft immediately, his fingers playing with the braids that fell over your shoulder. “You’ll never be alone again, Y/N. I promise you that.” Then, he guided you towards the water, lacing your fingers with his and pulling you closer to his side. Soft rustling noises were heard from the ocean, even some seagulls were still flying around, chirping above your heads. “Should we sit down here?”, Grayson quietly interrupts your thoughts, pointing to a clean spot in the sand. Once you nodded, he pulled you in between his legs, sitting down with you against his chest. “I’ve never done that with a girl, romantic stuff.” “Really? Not even in high school?” “No. It is difficult to date when your brother is always the one who gets the girls. I was always their second choice whenever Ethan didn’t want them. So, I preferred staying single instead of being just the Ethan lookalike. But let’s not talk about that, let’s make it to a moment you will ever remember and a night that you will never forget.”

And well, you did.

Grayson pulled you towards the water, the two of you only in underwear, deciding to go for a midnight swim. “Gray, please tell me nobody will see us”, you asked in worry, but Grayson just shook his head. “I promise you, baby. No one comes ever to this part of the beach, it’s el diablo territory – and I told my guys that we would be here tonight. But if you don’t want to…” “No! I want it, but… not in my underwear”, you grinned at him while slowly unclasping your bra, letting it fall onto the ground where all your other clothes were neatly folded, your slip soon following. “C’mon, baby.” You ran into the cold water, yelping at the feeling, but laughing as soon as you realized you were back in your element, letting yourself fall under the surface. Grayson laughed, enjoying your carefree side – and the view – before he stepped out of his boxers and ran towards you, embracing your naked body with his own, warming you up and engulfing you in comfort. Your skin was glistering from all those water droplets reflecting the moonlight, you were stunning, like Selene herself. Grayson’s personal goddess of the moon, of the night – and of his life.

Grayson on the other hand looked like a mixture of Hades and Nyx – if she was a man -, fitting perfectly into the night, shining under the starry sky. His broad shoulders broke the soft waves on the water surface, his strong arms holding you up against him. “You’re so beautiful, angel”, he whispered as he admired your simple beauty. You smiled at him, tracing his tattoos with your fingertips. “You’re a piece of art. I love every single one of your tattoos”, you hum. “I… love you.” There you said it, looking at Grayson with wide eyes, just like a shy deer, scared of his reaction. Grayson’s face softens immediately, mouth hanging open before it cracks into a smile, pressing soft little kisses around your mouth. “I love you too, angel. I never thought I’d say that, but I love you. I love you. I love you.” His hands were everywhere, showing how much he loved every part of you, starting from your face down to your neck, your arms, your fingertips, going back up again to caress the curves of your breasts, your hips and your butt before he grabs your legs to wrap around his waist.

You didn’t even break eye contact once, not as he touched your nipples, nor as he slowly enters you. Both of your lips were parted, chests pressed against each other’s as you moved gently against Grayson, soft hums leaving both of your mouths as the water around you started to move with your actions. “Grayson”, you whimper as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his teeth teasing the sensitive skin. “I’m here, baby.” His soft thrusts grew unsteadied, whimpers turning into moans as Grayson hits the right spot each time. Again, you couldn’t believe that this tough, almost criminal man was so soft when it comes to you. You tilt your head back, looking up to the stars and start to ask yourself how you out of all people deserved to get this man. “I love you, Gray”, you moaned out as you clenched around him, your orgasm coming in stronger than the waves around you. “Fuck, angel, I love you.” With that, Grayson came too but remained inside you while you shared this intimate moment, soft kisses and many whispered promises, before you eventually went in for another round.

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mca-attack21 · 5 years

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Deadly Definitions Part 11

Hello, welcome back to Deadly Definitions. Find the first 10 parts here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10 Tags: @l4life @ahoy-ladies-67

“Jug, Jug wait up,” you called after him running as fast as you could in heels.

“Y/n I can’t do this, not right now,” he replied brushing you off.

“Listen to me Jug, he didn’t do this, we’ll figure it out”

“But what if he did? He was trying to leave town. He’s a serpent it’s not like this would be the first time he committed a crime.”

“I think you know deep down that he didn’t. There is more at play here than we are seeing,”

“I don’t want to deal with any of this right now, I just want to go to Toledo with my mom and JB” he said.

“Okay, let’s go to the bus station,” you answered.

When the two of you arrived, Jug called his mother to see what would be the best time for him to come. She told him that it wasn’t a good idea for him to come at all. He decided not to tell her about everything that was going on. As he hung up, he struggled against his emotion. He felt so lost, like no one wanted him.

Seeing this, you hugged him tightly. That is when a woman came up to you and informed you that the station closed in 10 minutes and wouldn’t reopen until the next morning at 5:30 am.

“Okay, so we go to Pop’s and wait it out. If you’re sure this is what you really want?” you questioned.

He simply nodded. It wasn’t long after the two of you arrived that the rest of the gang appeared.

“Jug, Y/n” Archie said with relief.

“Jug we are so sorry about everything,” Betty apologized.

“Jug, breaking into your Dad’s trailer was wrong, but at least some good came out of it,” Archie added.

“I’m pretty sure my Dad was just arrested for murder” Jughead returned.

“But the gun wasn’t there when we searched the trailer, it had to be planted after we left.” Veronica replied.

“What are you guys talking about?” Jughead asked.

So they proceeded to fill the two of you in. All of you went to the Sheriff’s station. You had to tell Sheriff Keller the truth before it was too late. But when you arrived, he informed you that Jughead’s dad confessed.

After that, everything started going really fast. First, Jughead went to apologize to Cheryl and got kicked out of school. Then Betty’s dad broke into their house and was caught with Sheriff Keller’s missing case files. He then went on to explain that he didn’t know why Jughead’s dad confessed to taking them because he was the one who did. This is when her dad explained that the Cooper’s were actually Blossom’s. Betty quickly pieced it together that if her dad was willing to steal evidence to cover up the incest in the family, what would Clifford or Penelope Blossom do? This lead them to Thornhill in the middle of the night to collect Polly and the babies.

That same night Archie’s mom sat with Jughead’s dad trying to find out the truth. This was to no avail as he stuck to his original story. So, Jughead went to confront him. That is when he knew that his father was lying. The entire gang went to talk to Joquin to see if he knew anything. He admitted to helping clean up the blood and storing the body in the freezer. From here, you, Betty, and Jughead went back to the Blue and Gold. The goal was to review the evidence and try to see what it was that you were missing. Meanwhile, Archie and Veronica went to interrogate Mustang who was the only other person to know about the cover-up.

When they arrived, they found him dead. It appeared to be an overdose. They called the police and shortly after they arrived they came out with a bag of money with the initials H.L. Veronica was shaken, had her father really been behind this?

You got a text from Kevin that Joquin had revealed to him the location of a secret contingency plan that would either prove FP’s innocence or guilt. You, Betty, and Jughead went to find it. What you found was Jason’s varsity jacket stuffed in a bag. The three of you brought it back to Archie’s garage where the others were waiting. Everyone looked it over and were starting to give up. You glanced at Jug who was starting to lose hope. That is when you took the jacket.

“Archie, stand up,” you ordered.

“What, why?” he asked as he stood.

“Put this on,” you said as you held the jacket up.

“Y/n, this is weird,” he replied

“Put it on,” you repeated.

You then proceeded to pat him down and search the pockets. That is when you noticed a small hole.

“There’s a hole in the pocket,” you announced.

“Come on Y/n, you’re just grasping at straws” Veronica spoke.

“Think about it V, when you have a hole in your pocket what happens to your lipgloss?” you asked.

“It’s goes to the liner” Betty answered in amazement.

You worked your way around the liner and found something. You carefully pulled it out through the pocket of the jacket and held it up. It was a small USB.

“What the hell?” Veronica asked.

“You amaze me,” Archie said as he discarded the jacket.

You pulled out your computer and got ready to see what was on the flash drive as Betty spoke, “Maybe you shouldn’t watch this Jug,”

“I have to Betty, it’s my dad,” he replied.

“Okay, so we all watch it together,” Archie said.

You were hesitant to start the video. You knew that it was one of those moments that would change everything. You looked around and reluctantly hit start.

And you all watched. There was Jason Blossom tied to a chair, alive. You saw as Mustang beat him. And then you watched as Clifford Blossom entered the frame. He took the wedding ring from his son and then pulled out a gun and shot him.

Immediately as the video ended, Betty stood up making a call “Betty, who are you calling?” Archie asked.

“You have to get out of the house now. We have undeniable proof that your Dad killed Jason. He’s dangerous Cheryl.” She spoke before hanging up. You made a copy of the video and decided that Alice Cooper was the best one to take it to the Sheriff.

It was later revealed that Jughead’s father only confessed because Clifford threatened to kill Jughead the same way he killed Jason. Regardless of the threats, he was still going to be in jail for a long time. Veronica’s mother informed her that her father was coming home to Riverdale. Betty’s family was reunited and acted as if nothing had ever happened. Archie’s mother was going back to Chicago, and he was staying with his dad. And you were alone again, starting to question everything.

While everything should have been over, it was far from it. The question was no longer who did it, but what motivated Clifford to kill his own son?

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tjkiahgb · 5 years

Text

Episode Recap: 3.12, “The Ex Factor”

The episode begins with Andi dancing and crafting, as you do. She decorates the bottom of a group project for school about eggs.

Hold on a second. Let me just check their work.

Okay, first of all, that opening sentence is a mess. “Categorized by... stand on two legs”? Proofread! Come on.

But, and this is the bigger issue, it appears the majority of this paragraph is lifted right from the Wikipedia page on theropoda.

The other paragraph from up above, on the index card to the left, is lifted from the Wikipedia page on turtles.

It’s not just that plagiarism is bad, but this is lazy plagiarism. Do they not think the first place their teacher is going to check is the Wikipedia article? Move some words around! Mix some synonyms in there! It’s like you want to be caught! God!

Also, which class is this for exactly?

You’ve got Aristotle in the top left, so... philosophy? But then you also have Charles Darwin in the top right, which suggests science.

Or is this just the entire general history of the chicken or the egg question going back to the dinosaurs?

I feel like the project needs more focus.

Maybe Andi’s group mates will step up to help deal with these many issues.

Nope. Never mind.

When this project gets failed, you’ll only have yourselves to blame.

At Red Rooster, Bowie finishes up a group guitar lesson and walks out into the store to find Plot Device.

Sorry, did I say Plot Device? I meant Miranda. My bad. And she’s brought along her daughter, little Plot Device Jr.

Bowie awkwardly tries to figure out what these two are doing here.

Before Miranda answers, she sends Morgan off.

“Morgie, honey, why don’t you go do the loudest thing possible in this small room while we try to have a conversation. I think that’d be a pretty neat representation of our role on this show.”

So Morgan bangs on the drums while Bowie tries to talk.

He makes a joke about being happy with the knowledge Morgan can’t steal one of the drums, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, she’s good at thievery. Don’t let your guard down around her for one second. You’ll think she hasn’t taken a drum and then find out she emptied out the till when you weren’t looking.

Miranda tells Bowie he was right in what he said when last they spoke. You remember, that thing where he was like, “Hey Miranda, you should try parenting even the tiniest amount.” Turns out, that was good advice. Miranda listened and feels she’s a better mother and Morgan’s a happier child.

Morgan returns and tells Bowie that Miranda has a new boyfriend, whom she refers to as “Not Bowie.”

Which is insanely passive-aggressive for a child her age. Or just aggressive-aggressive? It’s like somewhere in the middle. It’s active-aggressive.

Miranda heard Bowie was teaching guitar so she brought Morgan to see if she could sign up for lessons. Bowie’s like, eh... I’m all booked, it’s not a great time, yadda yadda. So Morgan’s like...

Bowie’s like, “Morgan, I don’t hate you... I just don’t like you. There’s a lot of area in the middle.”

No, of course, Bowie relents because that’s a super messed up, manipulative, guilt trippy thing for an 8 year old or whatever to say. So Bowie sends Morgan to the back to look at guitars.

And then Miranda, who has a boyfriend, gets closer to Bowie and she’s like...

Bowie points out that she has a boyfriend, but Miranda is like, “Pfft, Not-Bowie? He’s no Bowie.”

Here’s the thing, Bowie and Miranda dated for like, a few months? Probably at least a half a year ago? There was tension with Bowie’s family the entire time and then things ended really poorly, so what exactly are Miranda and Morgan hanging onto here? More trips to the miniature golf course? Access to a record store? Plant stuff? “Not-Bowie just doesn’t have the kind of knowledge of plants that a woman like me needs.” Let it go, girl.

Bowie tells Miranda he’s engaged, which she takes well.

She’s like, who’s the lucky woman for no reason whatsoever I’m just curious and nothing more and Bowie tells her it’s Bex.

At The Spoon, the GHC and Jonah get breakfast. Well, the GHC gets breakfast. Jonah says he’s not hungry and just wants to enjoy their company, which Buffy thinks is both sweet and weird.

Like a baby holding a hammer.

Amber comes by with a dish she’s supposed to throw out because it’s a wrong order. Instead, she offers it to Jonah, who accepts and starts to dig in.

I gotta say, Jonah’s silverware technique needs work.

How do you have any control of the fork that way? Also, who cuts scrambled eggs with a knife?

Buffy’s suspicions are raised by Amber’s seemingly too nice behavior.

At Cloud 10, Celia takes time out from helping all of the zero customers in the place to finish up Bex’s wedding invitations.

Bex tells her the invitations are beautiful. Celia says she was going to mail them herself since she already did everything except that, but decides that Bex should handle mailing them, because it’s her special day. “It’s your wedding, you should be the one to have the honor of putting these papers in a metal box.”

The door to Cloud 10 opens and who walks in? Not a customer, that’s for sure.

Celia’s immediately on the offensive, calling her Melinda and asking if she’s there to accuse them of losing something to cover up a theft.

Miranda seems to treat that as an actual question.

Miranda says she’s there to congratulate Bex on her engagement. Celia’s not buying it. Bex asks her to go chill in the back office for a minute. Celia agrees to do that but then adds that Miranda shouldn’t get too comfortable.

“...and polishing a broadsword in a threatening manner.”

Miranda tells Bex she really only came to give her best wishes but then she launches into what feels like an extremely pointed story about her failed relationship with Morgan’s father. She never saw it coming, she says. They were so happy. A perfect relationship for six years. And then they got married and the whole thing collapsed like a Jenga tower. They drifted apart until it felt like they were living two different lives. Eventually, they couldn’t even remember why they were together in the first place.

Wow. She really only needed to add something like, “And let me tell you, having to raise a daughter together helped nothing. In fact, she only made things worse! It expedited things!”

Miranda’s tale of woe really affects Bex.

Miranda’s like, oh, don’t worry, I’m not talking about you and Bowie. I’m sure your marriage will be just fine. I mean, half of all marriages end in divorce, but it probably won’t be you guys, right? Hahaha. Flip a coin, right? Heads or tails? Heads or tails? Hehe.

Back at Red Rooster, Bowie finally comes to check on Morgan. He makes her promise she’s going to behave.

It’s like prison rules.

Bowie takes his eyes off of Morgan for literally seven seconds to grab a guitar and turns back to find she’s disappeared like some kind of GHOST.

Bowie does the smart thing: he looks around for a second, checks the top of a desk...

...doesn’t check behind the curtain that’s right there, shouts “Morgan!”, checks nothing else, and then walks out of the room...

...despite not having heard the door open and close behind him.

He walks out to the main part of the store and asks if anyone’s seen Morgan, but no one has. So he does the smart thing again: he goes back and checks the room she’s most likely in. No, I’m just kidding, he walks out of Red Rooster.

God I bet I’d be so good against him if we played Hide and Seek. I’m not amazing at it or anything, but he is terrible.

At The Spoon, the kids debate what to do with their day. They settle on going to Adrenaline City. Jonah says it sounds fun, but he’s gonna pass. That is, until Amber shows up and says she has an extra pass.

Jonah agrees to go. Amber’s like, great, I’m just gonna go change real quick. But, um... doesn’t she have to work? Didn’t her shift just start? It’s breakfast. Or does she only work the 8am-9am shift?

Jonah goes to thank her for inviting him. Buffy sniffs out that something is up. She thinks Jonah and Amber are getting back together.

The gang heads to Adrenaline City.

I guess I’m not sure why Cyrus was excited for this. Does he not know who he is?

Buffy uses her basketball skills to win a weird blue llama.

Listen, I don’t like amusement park stuffed animals. They’re super fragile and probably all filled with asbestos. They cost 25 cents to make and you can’t win a decent sized one without slapping down $50. I’m not saying that prevents me from trying to win the damn things every time I go, I’m just saying I don’t like it.

Anyway, the whole time at the park, Buffy’s enjoyment is dampened by the escalating Jonah and Amber situation.

Buffy turns to her emotional support stuffed animal for comfort.

Don’t put the asbestos llama that close to your face!

Cyrus, meanwhile, continues to suffer through a day of fun at the park.

Alone, by the way. Hey, you know who’s between friends right now and probably wouldn’t mind sharing a flying swing with you, Cyrus? Just saying.

After their day of riding rides, Jonah and Amber share a pretzel, which Cyrus points out is basically marriage at their age. Andi protests that Jonah is still in a relationship with Libby, but Cyrus and Buffy are unconvinced. They need a reason to believe this isn’t Jonah and Amber 2.0 and they want to know if Andi has that reason.

Meanwhile, after what certainly must have been several hours (enough for the kids to discuss going to the park, then go out to the park, ride all the rides, and eat pretzels and debate relationships), Bowie finally exits Red Rooster.

And he still hasn’t had time to put down the tiny guitar.

Bowie runs around shouting Morgan’s name and lazily looking around for her before finding Miranda nearby at some kind of pop-up swap meet. He apologizes profusely. He tells her he took his eyes off her for a second (that’s barely an exaggeration) and she disappeared. He’s been in a panic looking for her and he thinks they should call the police.

But then Morgan pops out of a clothes rack.

And Miranda laughs and high-fives her.

The two delight in thinking about how worried Bowie was. They get much joy from remembering the fear that was on his face just moments ago when he thought he'd been responsible for the disappearance and even, potentially, death of a small child. LOL. I guess it is pretty funny when you think about it.

Bowie asks Miranda if she knew about this and Miranda’s like, yeah, haha, she does this all the time.

Or basically, LOL, here’s another funny joke, Bowie. Remember when you said I should act like a parent? Well, nah.

Bowie is on the verge of tears and is mad for some reason Miranda doesn’t understand. He walks off. Morgan asks if they’re getting Bowie back, but Miranda, realizing that not everyone loves an emotionally traumatizing, surprise game of “Whoops I lost a child”, says no.

That night, Andi invites Cyrus and Buffy to Andi Shack to show them Jonah’s wish from the Moon Festival. She hands it to Cyrus, who opens it up and reads it.

No, the wish actually says he wishes his family could be happy again.

Andi says she thinks Jonah’s family might be having money problems. For example, he wouldn’t order food at The Spoon. Cyrus remembers that he didn’t want to go to Adrenaline City until Amber offered the free ticket. All the puzzle pieces start to fall into place.

They think this is why he’s been close to Amber. Because Amber also went through similar money troubles and he probably confided in her. Buffy feels bad for judging them.

They wonder if there’s something they could do. Andi says, for now, respect his privacy and not jump to conclusions.

That’s a mature way to handle it. That line of thinking lasts all of five seconds before Cyrus suggests they get involved somehow.

At Bex’s, Bowie tells Bex about his day. Bex mentions Miranda also came to see her and scared her. Bowie tells her to get Miranda out of her head. He thinks about how lucky he is to have all this: friends, family, hole.

He talks about how much he loves this and hopes it never changes. Bex agrees, but this also makes her think about some things.

The next day, the GHC come into Red Rooster to ask Bowie to hire Jonah at the store. Does Bowie have hiring power at Red Rooster? Or does he just own this place now? Where is the owner? Is this like a squatter’s rights situation?

Bowie apologizes. It’s a small business and they just don’t have the resources to bring on another employee.

Jonah emerges from the back and Bowie immediately spills everything.

He’s like, oh hey Jonah, sorry about not being able to give you the job you needed and that we were all just talking about. What? No I don’t think the kids were being weird and secretive a minute ago when they walked in here without you to ask for work on your behalf. Everything seemed normal to me.

Andi says they just wanted to help, and Jonah realizes they know he’s going through something.

Andi explains to Jonah that she found out about his issues because of the wish from the lantern.

Yeah, but it could also be that you upset the Moon Goddess by ruining Celia’s wall. Either one, really.

Jonah explains that sometime last year, his dad made an investment that went bad and a couple months ago, his parents had to declare bankruptcy and that’s when they finally told him about it. They lost their house and moved in with relatives.

He tries to remain positive even though it’s not easy. At least his family has a place to stay and they’re all still together.

Jonah feels like a weight is off his shoulders having told his friends about this.

Andi tells him he doesn’t have to keep secrets from them. That he can tell them stuff he thinks he can’t. Jonah’s like, I got it. No more secrets.

And then he makes another horrible poker face that screams: “Except for that other thing that I’m definitely keeping a secret from you guys.”

Outside of Cloud 10, Bex brings her big ol’ box of wedding invitations to Nicky the Mailman (no relation to Ricky the Suit Man) for shipping.

Nicky the Mailman admires Celia’s handiwork, then inadvertently “Mirandas” Bex by saying something to make her nervous about the wedding.

I wish he kept digging deeper. “I remember mailing invitations to the wedding with my first wife. Boy, that ended badly. Horrible, bitter divorce. Much like my second wife. You know they say third time’s the charm, but some mornings I look at my current wife and think ‘Buddy, not from where I’m sitting.’ Anyway, about these invites...”

Bex flips and takes back the invites and runs off.

The GHC, meanwhile, walk through the park. Cyrus does that thing where he doesn’t realize he’s holding his phone and looks for it, then he shows Andi and Buffy a piece of candy that mysteriously made its way into his pocket.

They spot Jonah and Amber across the way, sitting at a bench together. They all talk about how it’s great he has Amber to confide in and how silly it was that they thought they might actually be back together. Haha.

I mean, they were a truly toxic couple. Haha. Neither of them probably wants to reenter into a relationship like that. Haha. Anyway, it’s great that they’re friends now because they really--

Wuh oh.

As the episode ends, Andi has just one question.

Andi, how much time did you spend near the llama Buffy won at the amusement park? This could be a symptom of exposure to asbestos.

Well, I must say, having gotten to the end of the episode, I find myself shocked, appalled, and greatly disappointed by what’s happened here.

...

Where the hell was Gus?!

What monster added him to the IMDb listing for this episode?!

Show yourself, coward! How dare you get our hopes up like this!

I don’t even know if I can go on watching this show anymore! I’m so tired of betrayal! I’m so tired of--

Oh, TJ’s back next episode? Well okay then.

Same time next week, everybody!

#Andi Mack #Cyrus Goodman #Buffy Driscoll #Jonah Beck #Amber #Bowie Quinn #Bex Mack #Celia Mack #Miranda Patrick #Morgan Patrick #Nicky The Mailman #Andi #episode recaps

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shitheadkk · 5 years

Text

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Revolution

Chapter Two

The following morning came far too quickly for the likes of Jotaro and Josuke. The earliest flight out to Seattle came in at four, and the last time that Jotaro remembers looking at his phone was well after midnight. He is awoken by a terrible headache and a stiff neck.

The things I’m willing to do. He thinks as he takes his seat on the plane. At least the old man isn’t here. Maybe we’ll make it out alive.

“So, Jotaro.” Josuke begins, haphazardly fixing his pompadour. “Fill your old uncle

Good grief.

“We’re going to meet up with my old friend Polnareff. There’s some sort of scientist out there that is apparently been bringing the dead back to life. Polnareff is convinced that they may be able to bring back the old man.”

“What do you think?” Josuke asks, puzzled.

“Even if this guy is able to bring people back from the dead, the old man has been dead for years now. He’s worm food by now.”

“Then why are you even fucking with it?”

I’d really like to believe that it's true. My grandfather might have been an absolute pain in my ass, but he sure as hell knew how to keep the mood lively.

“I’ve been meaning to get out there and see Polnareff anyway. I’m already in America, so why not?”

“Excuse me?” A voice calls from beside them. They look over to see a man in a suit staring them down.

“Can we help you?” Jotaro asks, rolling his eyes.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you talking about a scientist that could bring someone back to life?” The man replies.

“What about it?”

“Zeppeli. I’ve been reading the stories about them for weeks now. Its weird, nobody has been talking about this on the news. It seems that the Speedwagon foundation is trying to keep this under wraps.”

“Has he really been able to bring people back from the dead?” Josuke blurts, much to Jotaro’s annoyance.

“It seems so.” He chuckles a bit and pulls up an article on some off the wall website on his laptop.

Speedwagon Foundation Revives Man Dead After Two Weeks

‘A true miracle’- says man saved by Speedwagon Scientist

Who is Zeppeli and how are they saving the world

Whoever this guy is, he’s certainly secretive about it.

Later that Night, Broken Heart’s Gentlemen’s Club

Their taxi leaves the duo in lower Seattle, in a district known by the locals as Socialite’s Pleasure. The air is much clearer than it was by the airport. The night’s sky is lit up marvelously by the distant skyline, and the men are able to see the clear, full moon in the distance. Around them, they are surrounded by lush restaurants and coffee shops, as well as chic clothing stores.

Josuke takes his phone from his pocket as they are walking down the street, snapping pictures with each passing.

“We aren’t in Morioh anymore, Josuke.” Jotaro chuckles, wrapping himself in his jacket as they continue towards the address that Polnareff provided them. “Its really fucking cold.” He mutters.

“Seattle is one hell of a sight.” He replies.

The duo continues their short trek in silence, and are stunned at the end of the road to see a large building, adorned with neon hearts and much to their embarrassment, Silver Chariots with overly accentuated breasts.

Good God, Polnareff. What happened to you?

Jotaro can feel his cheeks turning beet red as he approaches the bouncer.

“Evening, Gentlemen.” The bouncer smiles, taking out a clipboard. “This is a private club tonight, boys. I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you in.”

“We were told to come here for a meeting.” Jotaro assures the man.

The man stares at the clipboard, puzzled. “Let me see. What are the names?”

“Josuke Higashikata.”

“Jotaro Kujo.”

The man reads over his guestbook for a moment, and then looks to the duo, astonished. “My great apologies, gents. It looks like you two have been invited here by the owner.”

“That is correct.” Jotaro grumbles, clenching his jaw in disgust.

“Right this way, I will take you to Jean myself.”

The Broken Heart’s Gentlemen’s Club is just as horrific as Jotaro had envisioned. Velvet walls, sleazy dancers, the smell of cigarettes and marijuana reeking the air. Even so, there are even more scantily clad Silver Chariots decorating the club. The club, despite the man’s aura, is full of patrons. Men and women alike stuffing twenties into the g-string of their respected dancers.

“I’m finally in a strip club!” Josuke whispers excitedly, nudging his nephew with his elbow as they walk to the back of the club. “You can tell everyone at Christmas this year that your favorite uncle took you to a strip club!”

Good grief. “We may as well take a picture with the bitch with the blue hair. It could be our Christmas card.” Jotaro laughs. “If my marriage wasn’t over before, it definitely is now.”

Jotaro looks up, tilting his hat back a little. Polnareff is standing at the bar, ordering himself a drink. He hasn’t aged much in the decade since they’d last seen each other. His hair is trimmed back, he’s still got those terrible earrings, and he wears a nice suit.

“Monsieur Polnareff, your guests are here.”

Polnareff cheekily turns around and opens his arms to his friends. “Jojo!” He yells, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Jotaro in a hug.

Jotaro laughs, trying to shake his friend off without hurting his ego. “Good to see you too, Polnareff.”

“What do you think of the place? Biggest strip club in all of Washington.”

“As far as strip clubs go, it's pretty nice. Glad to see you’re making a decent living here.” Jotaro replies, taking a seat at the bar.

“Could I interest you guys in a drink?” The blonde waitress asks politely. Jotaro looks up at the woman and feels himself blush. She is probably the most modest looking woman in here. Her long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders. She is strikingly tall, she has to be towering at at least six feet. She’s athletic build, curvy in all the right places. Her entire torso is covered in tattoos, as well as her arms. She wears a tight black dress, leaving some imagination but not much.

“Josephine, why don’t you make them one of your special teas? The pink one, with the Sake in it.”

The woman, Josephine is her name. She scurries off with a curt nod into the back of the bar.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Polnareff chuckles, acknowledging Jotaro’s blush. “She doesn’t like to dance much, but she is one hell of a bartender.”

Josephine quickly returns, placing two fuschia cocktails in front of Jotaro and Josuke.

Polnareff smiles and hands her a bill. “She’s smart, too. She’s working on her doctorate right now, finishing her dissertation. What was it on, again?”

In a soft voice, she blushes and replies. “It's on what happens to our bodies when we die, for short.”

“That’s very interesting.” Josuke oogles. “Why are you here, then?”

Josephine laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “This is just part time. I’m doing an internship during the day, I do this a couple of nights a week.”

“That’s so cool!” Josuke grins. “Jotaro here is a doctor too!”

She turns her attention to Jotaro, who is quite obviously floored. “I’m not really a doctor, I’m just a marine biologist.”

“Science of any form is quite interesting.” She chuckles. “It isn’t something to be taken lightly, Dr. Kujo. Besides, I double majored in Marine Biology and Human Sciences.”

“I told you guys that she was smart.”

Josephine looks at Polnareff intently. “There are no limits to the human brain, if one believes that there aren’t.”

“Thank you again for the drinks, Josephine.” Polnareff motions to the duo to follow him. “We will meet in the private party room. Shall I hire a dancer?”

You could have Josephine come in. Something about that woman has sparked Jotaro’s interest. He wasn’t sure what, but there was definitely something different about the woman.

“I’d rather we speak in private.”

“So this scientist, do you know them?” Jotaro asks, taking a draw off of the hookah.

“Nobody does. The only thing I know about them is what I’ve read, and whatever they have been doing definitely works. I called the Speedwagon foundation and they were hesitant to say the least, but they said we could come by in the morning to meet with this guy.”

“Bringing people back from the dead, you’d think would be something that would be talked about more.” Josuke scoffs, typing away at his laptop. “I’m reading some of the cases here. Turns out, 4 out of the 5 articles that I’ve read, it seems that most of the ressurections have been linked to either a murder or some sort of gang violence.”

“That’s strange. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Hang on.” Josuke mumbles as he reads the articles. “Listen here. ‘In the case of 22 year old Darius McDonnel, linked to the Southside Halo Gang, it seems that after he was released from the hospital, the rival gang members were also shortly released, their injuries healed completely and they were placed into police custody.’”

“So what are you saying?” Polnareff asks.

“It seems that after the resurrection, at least in the gang violence, the injured rivals are also being healed.”

“By the way, Polnareff.” Jotaro inquires, taking another draw from the hookah. “How do you know that it works?”

“Because they healed me. I was in Italy some time ago, encountered a pretty vicious stand user, and was killed. The Speedwagon foundation found out, brought me here, and I was healed. The guy was in and out, I never even heard their name.”

“You don’t think it could be a stand user, this scientist, do you?”

Josuke quickly shuts his laptop and knocks back his drink. “There’s only one way to find out. Even if this guy is a stand user, there's three of us and one of them.”

You idiot.

“Yeah.” Jotaro scoffs. “But this guy is bringing people back to life left and right. Who knows what else his stand is able to do.”

Polnareff looks his smartwatch and sighs. “I guess we’ll have to find out in the morning. This guy’s office just sent me an email. He wants to meet us at five, before office hours.”

“I’m getting real fucking sick of not sleeping.” Jotaro grumbles, peeling himself off of the floor. He and Josuke bid their farewell to Polnareff, promising that they will meet at the hotel in the morning. The duo make their way out of the club, swearing off the subzero temperatures as Josuke hails an uber.

“Do you guys need a ride?” They hear a voice call from behind them. They turn around, met by deep emerald eyes and ruffled blonde curls. Its Josephine.

“We just called an Uber, but thank you.” Jotaro responds, calm.

“I hope to see you around then, Dr. Kujo.” She smiles, before climbing into a jet black Mercedes G-Wagon. Their ride follows quickly behind.

For a student, she’s got some money.

Jotaro buckles himself in and rests his head on the window of the Camry. Josuke tries to make some small talk with their driver, but all Jotaro wants to do is catch a few extra moments of sleep. Then it hits him, what was so weird about Josephine. He never told her his last name, they always referred to him as Jotaro. How did she know so much about him? She was a marine biologist herself, maybe she had read one of his papers. Regardless, Jotaro knew that this blonde beauty would be what kept him awake that night.

So here’s part 2 of this story arc! I’m so excited of what I’ve been writing!

Also, I’m looking for ideas for original stands and users! Send them to me if you want to be featured ❤️

#jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jotaro x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo part 3

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keeperoftheboys · 5 years

Text

These Violent Delights: Diego Hargreeves X Reader

Story Summary: Diego and Y/N were supposed to be having dinner. Things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: Rated T: Cursing, Violence, Death, Fluff, Crap Writing

Story Type: One-Shot

Requested: Nope :)

Diego burst into the foyer of the Hargreaves childhood home, carrying a young woman in his arms.

“Pogo! Mom! I need help.” He made his way to the medical room. “Mom!” Diego yelled again, this time more frantically.

Alison was the first in the room, tearing around the corner. “Diego, what’s- oh my God what happened?” Pogo and Grace entered the room next.

“Diego, who is this?”

“Does it matter she’s going to die, help her!”

“Why did you bring her here and not the hospital?” Alison rubbed her face at Diego’s stupidity.

“It’s not that simple.”

Grace was quick to get to work pulling the unconscious girl’s shirt off to reveal a large and long gash along her abdomen. Obviously a knife wound. Her skin was hot and covered in burns.

“What happened? Who is she?” Luther was in the doorway, glaring at Diego.

They first met in the condiment aisle at the grocery store. Diego has been staring at the honey selection for too long, not really looking at anything before she spoke up.

“Get the Clover Hill Farm’s brand! It’s the tastiest.”

Diego jumped at her voice, slightly startled and turned to face her.

“Sorry, didn’t think I’d scare you.” She laughed, grabbing a bottle herself and setting it in her basket.

“You didn’t, I was just lost in my head.” Diego finally took in her appearance. She was beautiful. Simple as that. She smiled at him. yes, beautiful, like the sun.

“Whatever you say,” she laughed, “like I said Clover Hill Farm’s is the best, it goes great on peaches with fresh brie on a crostini!”

“A what?”

“Bread” she chucked. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you, you just looked so concerned and I love food so I always try and sneak suggestions in when I see people contemplating. It’s a bad habit actually. Pretty Intrusive. I should stop doing it.” She was talking to herself by the end of the sentence looking down at the floor.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t mind. But to be honest I’m not a good cook, I’m a fan of protein shakes and the microwave.”

“Now that’s just a crime, everyone should know how to make at least one good meal!”

“Well, maybe you have to show me how. I’m Diego by the way,”

“Nice to meet you, Diego, I’m Y/N.”

___

I knew something was wrong the moment I arrived at her place. The wind chimes that hung on her porch swung wildly and the screen on her front door banged open and closed.

“Fuck.” I dropped the flowers I had for her in the grass and ran around the side of her house towards the backdoor. I could see men moving around in her back office.

“You won't find anything. I destroyed it all a long time ago.” Her voice floated through the window. A man held her by the throat, a gun to her head. She’s alive.

“Shut your mouth no one gave you permission to talk.”

“You know, you should leave soon, I’m expecting company. I wouldn't want him to walk in on this cheap excuse for a robbery.”

“Shut her the FUCK UP!” One of the men smacked her across the face. The wind grew stronger outside, leaves swirled up from the floor. The front door slammed open and closed more quickly.

“Where do you keep the information?”

There was silence.

“Answer the question bitch.”

“Oh sorry, I’m getting mixed signals here, I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk.”

“Can I kill her? God, I really want to kill her.”

“No.” There were a few bangs and the sound of a chair sliding across her hardwood floor. “Listen, You stuck your nose where you shouldn’t, now you have to pay the price. Tell me where the papers are or I’ll gut you like the slimy little fish you are.”

Thunder cracked above the house so loud the windows shook. A flash of lightning hit the conductor on her roof and the whole house lit up in blinding light.

“What the fuck is going on outside? Ryan, go shut that door.” This was my chance. I ran around to the front porch, broke the lightbulb covering the porch in darkness. One of the goons stepped out, looking around the porch to see what all the noise was. The rain started then, heavy and fast. I reached out, grabbed the guy by the head pulling holding a knife to his throat. “How many of you are there inside?”

He shook his head no so I dipped the edge of my blade into his skin.

“How many?”

“Four.”

“There’s a good boy.”

I plunged the knife into his chest gently set him down on the porch and slipped inside closing the door behind me. Thunder cracked outside again followed by a stronger flash of lighting. The wind whipped at the house blowing the glass out of one of the windows in the kitchen.

“Alright, freakshow is over. Tell me what you know.” The voices grew louder.

“NOTHING!”

“I’m done playing games with her.”

I made my way through the kitchen. Two glasses for wine stat on the table with a bottle of red, vintage. She has good taste. I had finally made it over to the door to her office. “What’s taking so long? Go check on him.”

Another goon exited the room and I promptly tossed a knife in his back and he fell to the floor. Lighting lit the house up again.

“What the hell is that?”

“I told you, you didn't want to be here when my company arrived.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a threat and a promise” I answered from the hallway and tossed a knife. It flicked around the room sinking into the chest of the third guy. The last one quickly grabbed Y/N.

“Who's here?”

Y/N chuckled, thunder shook the house, books fell off the shelves and scattered across the floor.

“Let her go.” I stepped into her office knife ready to leave my fingers. The man held her against his chest, a large knife at her stomach. Hand around her neck.

“Ohhhhh, look at you, playing around with his children now?” The man grabbed her by the jaw whispering into the side of her face. “I thought you knew better than to get mixed up with your work.”

“Fuck you.” She laughed, lightning struck the house again, lighting it up. She began to glow. Sparks flew from her fingers. The storm outside was like nothing else. The window in the office shattered and rain poured in.

“Let her go.”

“Diego Hargreeves, nice to meet you!”

Y/N locked eyes with me, “Throw them, Diego.”

And I did. Three silver knives glided through the air turning end over end. They circled around the pair headed for the man’s back. Y/N lit up, her eyes white with electricity, lightning came through the window striking her and everything metal in the room, including the knives as they plunged into the back of the man's neck. He shook from the electricity falling to the floor in a lifeless heap. For a second silence overtook the room.

“Shit.” Y/N looked down to where his hand had dragged his knife across her abdomen slicing her open. She grabbed her stomach as she fell.

___

Diego was pacing back and forth. He ran his hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“Diego, what happened? Who is she?” Luther grabbed his brother by the arm, stopping his pacing and directed him to a chair to sit.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He stuffed his hand into his pocket grabbing the small black velvet box and pulled it out flicking it open. Alison gasped at the sight of the sparkling ring.

“She’ll need blood.”Grace interrupted.

“I’ll do it.” Allison quickly pulled off her cardigan.

“Thank you.” Pogo started the transfusion. It was quiet for a few moments. The monitor she was hooked up to began to beep at a normal pace, her skin began to heal itself.

“Diego, what happened, how is she doing this?”

“She’s a reporter, she did some digging, looked into a string of robberies and murders connected to a gang about two years ago. The robbers came after her searching for the evidence she collected against them. The evidence she had already turned in to the police. They were supposed to be arrested later this week. The robbers attacked her, she attacked back, she’s one of us. Can control lightning and storms. She electrocuted herself and one of the goons, it was a bolt bigger than I think she ever has ever conjured before. As she did it the guy cut her open. And here we are.”

“Why didn't Dad get her when we were little?” Klaus was eyeing her carefully. Diego shrugged.

“I was going to propose tonight. Tell her that I love her. Ask her to be my wife, to be my everything. To start a family with me, a real family. To grow old with me.”

“Yes.”

Everyone's heads snapped to the young woman.

Diego lept out of his seat. Cradling her face. “You’re alive!’

“I’m alive and yes, I’ll marry you.”

#deigo hargreeves #diego Hargreeves X Reader #the umbrella academy #diego #number2 #tua

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iconicstyles · 4 years

Text

New Roommates

So here’s the second installment of my fic and I really hope this makes sense. i wrote this not really intending on posting it. So since I just wrote it for myself it’s not proper chapters. And I can’t upload the whole thing cause it would be ridiculously long but I hope you enjoy anyway ❤️

Previously

Max was almost out when he heard movement on the couch. Keeping his eyes closed he felt a soft weight being placed over him. Peaking his eyes open, he noticed a blanket she had been using on the couch. It was still warm from her body heat. He was too tired to fight her besides he could smell her perfume on the fabric comforting him as he fell asleep.

The next day Melissa was the first one awake. The street lights were still on after she took her morning shower. Quietly she went about her business, putting on a fresh pair of scrubs and her shoes. It was going to be another cold day in Chicago. Sighing to herself she braided her long dark hair down her back and pulled on a beanie. After grabbing her warmest jacket she headed downstairs. Abby and Max were still asleep making Melissa stay quiet as a mouse as she fixed herself a cup of coffee to go. Now Melissa may love her job but no matter what she would never be a morning person.

Thankfully the hospital was slow at five in the morning. She would make her rounds, talk with the night nurses to find out what happened the night before, and wait for her first big incident of the day. When she heard the intercom say code blue she turned to her coworker. “Let’s go to work.”

When Max woke up the first thing he was aware of was a sweet smell coming from the kitchen. After wiping his hands over his face he turned to see Abby pulling out a muffin tray from the oven. Slowly he rose from his makeshift bed and staggered into the kitchen. “Morning.” She said softly.

“Morning.” Max yawned.

“We didn’t get properly introduced last night. I’m Abby.” She told him, extending her hand.

Max glanced at her hand to her face which still had flour on it. “I’m Max, I’m Harry’s partner.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you.” She as far too friendly in the morning.

“You too. Uh, I gotta get a shower.”

Before she could say anything Max was already walking into the hallway bathroom. Not the best way to meet her new roommate but hopefully he would come around. If Abby knew anything about men the best way to make them like you was hit them with baked goods. He would come around and her Southern charm would make sure of it.

Harry sure did enjoy the muffins, he stuffed two of them into his mouth on their way to the precinct. “Mmm, I think this new roommate arrangement is gonna work out.” He groaned.

“Yeah, you keep eating like that you’re gonna fail our fitness exam come spring.”

“Eh, if I’m on desk duty it would be worth it if I get to eat like this.”

Max rolled his eyes as he came to a stop in their familiar parking spot. District twelve had been their second home since they graduated from the police academy. They worked in uniform for a few months before moving up to Intelligence. They had been working cases ever since.

Upstairs their coworkers were already buzzing. Mike had arrived first putting together their board. “Ok our victim’s name is Gerald Adams, low end criminal. He’s been in and out of jail since he turned sixteen. I got word from a CI that during his last stint he began working for another dealer, one we all know.” Mike taped up a picture of a well known dealer. “Calum Hood.”

“I thought he moved to Arizona?” Harry asked.

“Well he’s back. I’ve heard he’s been working the streets trying to build his rep back up.”

Sergeant Voight spoke up. “Hood used to be one of Kevin Wallace’s men. He had been working for him since Calum graduated high school.”

“Kevin Wallace? Isn’t he in prison?”

“For twenty years, doesn’t mean he’s not operating from the inside.”

“Then why did he pick off one of his new guys?” Max asked.

“That’s what I want you to find out.” Voight said. “Max, Harry, you find Adams residence. Mike you and Liam talk to your CIs, find out if there’s any rumblings going on with Wallace’s gang.”

With their orders in hand the guys headed off for the day. “Looks like it’s gonna be another late night.” Harry sighed.

By the time lunch was rolling around Melissa was already done with her day. Her last patient in room 612 refused to take his medicine, even going so far as to throw his food tray at her when she insisted he needed it. “Tell Jamie I’m taking my lunch and that someone else is gonna have to get Mr. Walker to take his meds.”

Luckily Abby seemed to know her friend would need a pick me up. When she arrived to the lobby she saw the blonde with a brown bag. “Hey, I didn’t know if you would have time for a real lunch.” Abby smiled.

“Even if I didn’t I’m taking one.” Melissa said eagerly taking the bag from her friend’s hands. “You brought me fresh bread? Bless you.”

“With three different jellies. I got a job.” Abby grinned.

“That was fast!”

“I know, I kind of stumbled into it.” Abby laughed. “It’s a small bakery that can only fit maybe three people at a time. A daughter runs it with her mother and her mom’s been sick for a while. They were gonna have to shut down but I came just in time.”

“So you’re basically gonna be running it?”

“Not really, it’s gonna be a test run until they think I can handle it but it’s a job.”

“Well I’m happy for you. You’re making a new life for yourself.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna like it here.”

Melissa felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Groaning to herself Melissa pulled it out to reveal a patient of hers needs help. “Well lunch is over. I’ll see you at home, ok?”

“Ok, go save some lives.”

It was after seven before everyone returned to the house. Harry and Max struck out trying to find any links between Wallace and their victim. No one wanted to talk to the police even if it prevented more bloodshed. Melissa was beyond exhausted too when she finally arrived home. Thankfully Abby was home and fixed two homemade pizzas for her roommates. “Bless your heart.” Harry sighed as he piled pieces onto a plate.

Melissa ate a piece before excusing herself to her bathroom. “I need a hot bath and maybe a glass of wine.”

Harry agreed. “We’re out of beer. I’ll go to the store on the corner, be right back.”

When the door closed Abby turned to Max. “I didn’t really know what toppings everyone likes but I figured pepperoni and cheese was a safe bet.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He mumbled.

Abby didn’t know how to gauge him. From what Melissa and Harry said he just came out of a relationship so he was healing. Plus he was a cop and that was a whole other set of issues. “Uh, you can have the couch tonight. I’m smaller, the chair won’t hurt me.” She told him.

“It’s fine.”

If Abby knew guarded men she knew the best way to handle them was to give them space and let them eventually come to you. “Well the food’s warm.” She whispered before brushing past him.

When he didn’t say anything Abby took that as her cue to head upstairs to her room. She still had some clothes to hang up to distract her from the handsome roommate she just couldn’t seem to crack.

In the weeks that followed the move everyone followed a nice routine. Melissa and Abby usually woke up first, fixing a pot of coffee for the guys when they woke up. Abby would arrive home first and fix a small dinner for them to share. It took awhile but eventually they would eat together around their small dining room table Melissa and Abby bought from an antique store. Their house was coming together just in time for Thanksgiving. “So what are our Thanksgiving plans?” Abby asked.

“I will probably be at the hospital. People deep frying turkeys is an accident waiting to happen.” Melissa explained.

“Then I’ll fix you a plate and bring it to you.” Abby said.

“Or I could. I usually go visit a friend on Thanksgiving anyway and the hospital is on the way.” Harry shrugged.

“Ok sounds like a plan.” Melissa agreed.

Later on that night Max and Harry excused themselves to go to the gym while Melissa and Abby stayed home. Melissa decided to take a hot bath leaving Abby to clean the kitchen. In the time she had lived in the house she maybe had one conversation with Max. Every day it was like Abby, Harry, and Melissa would laugh and talk, and they all had a good relationship going but Max seemed to be on the outside. Call it her southern hospitality trying to break through but Abby just wanted Max to feel included in his own home. Surely he talked to Harry, they were together every day from morning till night. Maybe she was overstepping her bounds but Abby just wanted to know more about her handsome roommate.

When Max and Harry got home Max went straight to the bathroom to shower leaving Harry to wait for him to finish. He found Abby in the kitchen writing down a list. “Whatcha doing?” Harry asked.

“Writing out what I need to make first tomorrow morning. I’ve been trying to test and see what sells out first every day and what I need to bake more of.”

“So what do the good people of Chicago enjoy?”

“Believe it or not homemade pop tarts with fresh fruit cream inside.”

“And how come we don’t get any of those here?” Harry seemed offended he hadn’t enjoyed one of her pop tarts.

“Come by tomorrow morning and I’ll give you two on the house.” She smiled. “So...can I talk to you about something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“It’s about Max.”

“Then probably not.”

“I just want to know what he’s like. We’ve been living together almost a month and I feel like I barely know what his voice sounds like.”

She noticed Harry’s eyebrow cock up slightly. “You fancy my partner?”

Abby tried to hide her blush. “I barely even know him. I just hate that we’re always talking and hanging out but he’s never around.”

“That’s just Max, he’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him. It’s part of what we do. We see horrors every day, things you can’t even imagine. Some guys just shut down so nothing else gets to them.”

“So should I just leave him alone?”

“I’m not saying that. I think to make him feel more comfortable here is a great idea. I’ve been wondering about it myself. I chalked it up to him still being upset about what’s her name but I don’t even know.”

“Well what does he like?”

Harry rubbed his chin with his finger. “When we first got partnered up he told me he misses his mother’s apple pies. His folks live in California and they don’t get to visit very often.”

“Apple pies? I can bake that in my sleep.”

“Great, more baked goods for me.”

The next morning Harry was driving and instead of going their normal route to the station he took a detour, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his partner. “Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.”

A few blocks down Harry came to a stop in front of a small bakery called ‘Make it Sweet’ with doughnuts and cupcakes decorating the light pink sign. “Why are we at a bakery?”

“Not just any bakery, it’s Abby’s. She promised me a warm breakfast but if you don’t want anything keep your grumpy ass in the car.”

Grumbling to himself Max followed his curly haired partner into the bakery. The smell of cinnamon hit him as soon as they walked through the door. It was so warm inside, a stark contrast to the freezing outside. The storeroom was small with two tables and a cake box full of different variations of birthday cakes and plain cakes waiting to be decorated. When she heard the bell above the front door ding Abby stepped out from the back to the counter. “Hey guys.” She grinned, just as warm as the storeroom.

“We come eager to try these pop tarts.”

“Pop tarts?” Max asked. “Don’t we have those at home?”

“Those are stale, I’ve had them since my last apartment.” Harry answered. “Abby promised me these were the best in Chicago.”

“Don’t gas me up too much.” Abby laughed. “I kept some warm for you two.”

Max watched as Abby placed four pop tarts into a small pink box. “Do you want coffee to go?”

“Yeah, Liam was supposed to make some at the station and knowing him it’ll taste like motor oil.” Harry cringed.

After pouring two cups of coffee she placed everything on the counter for them. “What do we owe you?” Max questioned pulling out his wallet.

“It’s on me.” She said, waving off his money.

Before Max could argue Harry felt his phone vibrate. “It’s Liam, we got a hit on Hood. Thanks Abby, see you later.”

Just as Max was about to leave the bakery he went back to the counter and laid a twenty dollar bill down. “Thanks.”

She didn’t have a chance to refuse the money before he was taking off behind Harry. Normally it would have been an eight dollar order she would just take the twenty as a kind tip. She also couldn’t help but notice the small smile on Max’s face as he handed her the bill. Maybe they were getting somewhere slowly but surely.

Throughout her time working at the hospital Melissa’s favorite part was simply releasing her patients. She had seen them through difficult times, nursed them back to health so when it was time for them to go home she took pride in being there. This time it was a twenty one year old girl who had come in with a severe case of pneumonia. She waved it off for so long when she finally came to the hospital she was admitted at once. “Mali? How are you doing?” Melissa asked.

“I feel great, just ready to get out of here.” Mali smiled.

“I bet, I just need you to sign these release forms and then you’re all set. Do you have someone coming to get you?”

“My big brother is coming. He should be here any minute.”

A soft knock echoed through the room. Melissa turned just in time to see a man step into the room. “Sis? You decent?” He asked, a hand over his eyes.

“Calum, put your hand down, I’m dressed.” Mali rolled her eyes making Melissa laugh.

“Hey, can’t be too safe. I walked into the wrong room one day and I’m still scarred for life.” Calum laughed stepping further into the room, his eyes landing on Melissa. “Hi, I’m Calum.”

“Don’t hit on my nurse, Cal.” Mali warned.

“Not at all! I’m merely showing my gratitude for the nurse that took such good care of my baby sister.”

Melissa laughed, placing her hand in Calum’s extended one. “I’m Melissa.”

“Nice to meet you.” His smile was dangerous, lighting up his entire face making his eyes turn into slits and she thought she saw dimples in his cheeks.

“You too.” She nodded, clearing her throat. “All right, well if you’re done with your paperwork you are free to go. I hope we don’t see you around here too soon.”

“Nope, I will be sure to take care of myself from now on.” Mali promised, hopping off her bed with ease.

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch over her.” Calum said, earning a light slap from his sister.

“Yeah, like that’s what I need.”

Melissa laughed once more watching as the brother and sister walk out of the hospital room. As she was leaving herself she saw Calum and Mali step into the elevator. From where she stood she could see Calum watching her a small smirk on his face. Even as she continued her shift she couldn’t get his face out of her mind. His smile, his curly black hair and matching eyes. “Get a hold of yourself, Melissa.” She told herself but still this man had affected her in such a short amount of time and she wasn’t upset about it.

When she got home she was eager to talk to Abby about a possible new man in her life. “Hey, are the guys home yet?”

Abby shook her head. “No, they stopped by the bakery this morning but had to rush out cause of some case.”

“Did you ask what it was?”

“No, they were in and out before I could.”

“Do you ever get curious about their cases?” Melissa asked.

“Not really, if they wanted to talk about them they would tell us. Max is hard enough to try and talk to. I don’t want to try and force him.”

“Good point, anyway let me tell you about the guy in the hospital.”

“Melissa, I don’t want to hear another story about someone missing a finger or toe.” Abby groaned.

“No, this one is different, all of his limbs are attached to a very attractive body.”

“Ok, now you got my attention.”

“Yeah, I figured, so he’s the brother of one of my patients. He came to pick her up today.”

“What does he look like? Give me a visual.”

Melissa pursed her lips, thinking back to the man from that afternoon. “He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. Olive skin with dark hair and eyes. A smile that would make you swoon.”

“Yeah, he had to be cute if you’re saying words like ‘swoon.’” Abby giggled. “But wait, I thought you and Harry had something.”

Melissa shook her head. “Harry’s cute and he’s funny but wouldn’t it be weird since we live together?”

“That would be up for you to decide.”

“I don’t think I can now that we live in the same house. What if we didn’t work out? One of us would have to move out.”

“I guess you’re right.” Abby frowned now, not too sure how she should deal with Max.

“Anyway, I’m gonna take a shower. What’s for dinner?”

Later on that night, after an afternoon of chasing dead ends Harry and Max returned home to a quiet house. “God, all I want is a hot shower and my bed.” Harry groaned.

Max silently agreed, his eyes were heavy but a sight on the kitchen counter caught his eye. On top of the counter top was a pie, not just any pie it was his favorite. Apple pie had been his favorite dessert since he was a kid. This one didn’t look like the one he enjoyed throughout his childhood but he would never turn down an apple pie. His mood lifted as he grabbed a plate from the cabinet and a fork. After cutting him a slice of pie he took a bite, the flavors melting in his mouth. Salted caramel was drizzled on top of the pie, something he never experienced but definitely enjoyed. Then, while he was enjoying his second slice of pie, he noticed a few dollar bills on the counter and a note saying ‘You forgot your change this morning.’ He remembered giving Abby his only twenty in his wallet before rushing out of the bakery but he didn’t expect her to give him change for it. “So can I get a slice or not?” Harry asked.

“Get your own.” Max replied, wrapping the pie up and putting it in the fridge.

“You really being stingy about a pie?”

“Yep, good night.” Max mumbled, his mouth full. With Harry glaring at his back he retired to his room with his plate in hand. Maybe this roommate situation would work out after all.

#harry styles fanfic #fanfiction #calum hood fanfic #5sos fanfic #is this too much?#i dont know how to insert a line break on mobile

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norahjakobs · 5 years

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Earth 33: Outlaws - Jason Todd

Earth 33 is my attempt at rewriting the dc universe. I’m doing this entirely for my own entertainment and as such will be writing what appeals to me. I’m starting this au off with the members of the outlaws, almost all of whom never canonly have been members.

So without farther ado, here’s Jason (This is a long one)

(TW: Death, Drugs, Overdosing, Crime, Vague Allusions to Rape)

Jason Peter Todd was born to Willis and Catherine Todd in a backstreet in Crime Alley. His father a small time crook and his mother drug addicted and unable to take care of him, he was basically left alone emotionally other than the few times Willis made time for his little prince of Gotham. Such as when he pickpocketed two tickets for a flying grayson show.

Willis got arrested on charges of drug use, theft, and grand theft auto. Reportedly he died in a prison riot started by some of Harvey Dents goons. Jason was 8 when this happened and it affected him greatly, he locked himself in his room in the Todd familys beat up tiny apartment for three days till he realized his mother hadn’t gone shopping or even begun to try and hustle any money for bills. He knew then that he’d be taking care of his mother till the day she overdosed like how the neighbors kept saying she would. Pick pocketing and theft became his new way of life but it was beyond stressful for a child of his age, and he was beat up several times by both gang members and police officers who caught him stealing.

He was 10 when his mother died from an overdose, it had been a long day and he was just happy to be able to bring some noodles and dollar store tomato paste home. But as he entered his home of ten years it smelled like how the alleys he always rushed through instead of walking smelled. He set the bags down at the door and rushed to the source of the scent. He got into the cramped kitchen and found his mother, dead. He went into his room and with a vacant expression on his face packed anything he had of value, he knew he couldn’t call 911, the phone service to the house had been cut three months ago, and besides there was no money to give his poor mother a proper burial.

He lived on the streets for the next two years and those two years taught him the way of the street, the distrust, the scrappy fighting that came when you hadn’t ate in three days, the value of a warm meal. Late one night he saw a chance that didn’t come by everyday, the batmobile, unguarded in an alleyway. He could only imagine how much the tires on it would fetch, so yeah he tried to jack the tires off the batmoblie. He was caught by Batman, who took him to get some food and talked with him. He was dropped off at a Wayne funded shelter.

And the next morning something bizarre happened, the people at the shelter let Jason know that there was someone interested in taking him in. He was hesitant at first but agreed to meet this person. A little later Bruce Wayne came in and chatted with Jason who was at first dismissive of the man but warmed up during the conversation, especially when Bruce shared about how he lost his parents when he was around 10. Jason agreed to try out living with him.

He liked it alot to say the least. He ran around the manor stuffing his face full of junk food almost constantly when he first got there till Alfred stepped in, just for his healths stake as a tumble down the long stairs or getting stick off of eating too much wouldn’t be all that fun for the kid. Jason wanted to stay and so stay he would.

Bruce put graves for Jason’s parents in the Wayne family graveyard next to Dick’s parents. Jason was put at ease by finally being able to put them to rest, including his mom’s body that was tracked down in GCP’s system as a yet to be identified body, his father’s body however had not yet been found.

Something that Bruce hadn't accounted for was the fact that Jason was a troubled sleeper, everything else he was doing perfectly with adjusting too, he was doing amazing at school, his checkup only indicated that they might want to give him some multivitamin gummies. But he just couldn’t get to sleep, he was too nervous too, and when he wasn’t too nervous he was too full of energy and trying to use it up doing something. So it was inevitable that he noticed how often Bruce was out at night and how at times he couldn’t find Alfred anywhere.

So when Bruce and Alfred were busy at some glala that didn’t let children in (Side note to myself, write younger Jason at one of these glalas) Jason poked his nose around the house looking for anything hidden. And while pulling books off the shelf in the study he tripped on the carpet and knocked a bust on the desk over, revealing a button. He did what you do when you find a button and he pressed it revealing a firemen pole, which he went down.

He ran around the cave unattended for an hour and when Bruce and Alfred has finally managed to get back home he had managed to put on one of Dick’s old robin costumes and was trying to figure out how to turn on the batmobile. Bruce sat him down and explained everything, and once he was done Jason asked if he could be Robin, and pointed out all his selling points like that his grades were good, he was good at running, he could throw a punch.

Bruce agreed to let him become Robin after a few months of training. Jason would remember his first night as Robin as one of the best of his life, only second to being adopted. His first night they dealt with a few purse snatchers, a mugging, and the crown of the night was a heist being pulled off by The Riddler at an art museum.

He met his brother Dick he and Bruce went to Bludhaven for a weekend due to Wayne Enterprises related business. The three of them met up for lunch on the Saturday and Jason and Dick got along greatly and poked fun at Bruce throughout the whole meal. On Sunday it turned out a mob had made the billanet plan to kidnap Bruce Wayne and hold him for ransom. Nightwing and Robin teamed up to save him and by the end of the adventure Dick gave Jason his phone number and told him to call whenever he’d like.

He was pretty friendless though, at school he was focused on the work and there wasn’t any sidekicks around his age running around Gotham. So Bruce organized the sidekick equivalent of a playdate with Blue Devils on again off again sidekick Kid Devil, also known as Eddie Bloomberg. The two were only supposed to taking down Polka-Dot Man who was planning a robbery. But when they returned to where Batman and Blue Devil were supposed to be figuring out a case with Zatanna at her hotel all they found were scorch marks and a very confused Zachary Zatara who had been in the hotel dining room before hearing a bunch of yelling and coming to investigate.

The events that followed were both chaotic and too long to list here. But for more details you can read here!

A couple years later he had hit the age of 15 and was overall, happy. He had a brother who loved him and checked in on him, he had a penpal who understood the stress of being a sidekick. But he also had lingering problems, anger over the treatment he got as a child and the treatment he saw others get, an empty feeling left by his parents. And what really brought out these feelings was a man by the name of Felipe Garzonas, someone that represented everything he hated. A person who abused his privilege to take advantage of those less fortunate, and then got off thanks to that privilege. Batman and Robin got him arrested but he got out the same day thanks to diplomatic immunity. And the man’s victim, overcome with terror took her own life. So when Jason was left alone with the man on a balcony it didn’t come as a surprise that he didn’t help when Felipe was falling to his death. Though the question of if he was pushed or slipped would never be answered.

Jason’s mental health took a dip due to what had happened and the fact that Bruce was avoiding him, and he called Dick who was having problems of his own at the time. But agreed to take Jason on a teen titan mission or two while his mind lingered on what had happened in Gotham and wandered to his family. But his mind got taken off that by meeting the titans and helping with one of the many smaller problems they had.

But when he got back he couldn’t get his mind off his past, so in an attempt to bring himself more closure on the topic he started looking for his father’s body. But meanwhile The Joker pieced together that one of his goons, was Robin’s father and so a plan was formed. Jason figured out that his father wasn’t dead but had gotten away the day of the riot and was working for The Joker who was planning something off in the alps. And due to the avoidance Bruce was showing to Jason, Jason decided to go out on his own. And we all know how that goes. His body, alongside his father’s was found in the wreckage of the blown up building.

He was laid to rest next to the graves for his parents and finally for the first time in years they were all together. But nothing lasts and Taila Al Ghul, in a bid to have something to use against Bruce in case he found out about Damian prematurely. So she sent one of her other pet projects, Twilight, or better known is Slade Wilson’s missing son Grant Wilson.

When he came out of the Lazarus Pit he was confused and tried to flee and there was some trouble stopping him till Taila tranquilized him. It turned out he had no memory of his life than his own name and the fact he died. He was respective to The League Of Shadows training, he still had the muscle memory from being Robin and was in a mental state that was easy to manipulate. He took to hanging around Grant as he reminded Jason of someone in a couple ways and Grant’s inner big brother came out around Jason.

By years end, Jason had fully integrated with The League and was sent on his first mission. When he had came back from it he had been sobbing but the deed was done. Taila talked with him about what had happened and tried to help him desensitize to the issue, she had grown to care about him and it hurt her to see him like this. After this incident his memories started to return, sparked by the familiar feeling caused by what he had done and the subconscious fear of being ignored again because of it.

He shared what he was remembering with Grant and that only helped to fuel the flame of rage in him. He wasn’t mad that Bruce couldn’t save him, he was angry that Bruce let there be chance the same would happen to another kid by letting The Joker live. He made a plan to try and make Bruce understand and set out on his way. Taila feared for him but did offer the original funds he needed for the plan.

He had his 17th birthday right as he was taking over Gotham’s underground as The Red Hood. It was a quick and hostile take over where he intimidated those he could, and killed those he couldn’t. News of The Red Hood found it’s way to Bruce quickly who was working alone at the time due to Tim being with Young Justice at the time. The drug lords were scared and one even agreed to meet with Batman but before they could give out much information they were shoot sparking a chase through the city where Batman failed to catch Red Hood.

He tracked down The Joker and kidnapped him and while waiting for Batman to arrive did all the things that Joker did to Jason in that warehouse so long ago. When Batman did arrive it became a tense confrontation where Jason revealed himself and demanded to know why the clown still breathed. Bruce answered the way he always did, saying they could not be the judge, jury, and executioner. He ended up forcing Bruce to make a choice, either kill The Joker himself or Jason would do it. Bruce instead threw a batarang at Jason, cutting the side of his neck and then The Joker detonated explosives that had been in the building.

He survived and fled Gotham. He decided to go meet his replacement Tim, he broke into the Young Justice base and kidnapped Robin not wanting to also take on a half kryptonian, speedster, and a demigod. The two fought and Jason mocked his replacement but he wasn’t trying to kill Tim. And when things were looking dicey for Tim, Jason nerve pinched him and left.

He then went off to Bludhaven to bother Dick. Who at the time was dealing with the Court Of Owls and the fact they were stalking him and trying to kidnap him. So when Jason was following him and saw some other shady character was following his brother he started a fight with them. Nightwing very quickly joined the fray between Red Hood and Talon and the two scared them off. Their chat afterwards was awkward to say the least, but weirdly friendly since Jason had just helped Dick and Dick caught on to the fact that Jason had been trained by The League of Shadows.

Dick made an effort to help Jason who he had figured out had been brainwashed during his time with The League of Shadows. And some progress was made. But when they went to Gotham so Jason could try to have a normal-ish conversation with Bruce, it blew up in his face when they had gotten talking about Taila and Jason let it slip that Taila had a son that she said was Bruce’s. Bruce, with no where to direct his feelings on the matter, got cross with Jason for not telling him sooner and the two started arguing. It ended when Jason pulled a gun on Bruce and Dick knocked him out with some sleeping gas.

Jason spent a month in Arkham and was beyond angry, he was angry at Bruce for taking out his complicated emotions on him and he was mad at Dick fortaking Bruces side. He had been admitted under an assumed name as a non criminal resident so he was being kept away from where the violent offenders were. Which was for the best, if he had been anywhere near The Joker it wouldn’t have been pretty. He got out when Tim bribed Arkham to let him out. Jason thanked his younger brother and asked about why he did that and Tim explained that the reason Jason was in there wasn’t fair, and besides he was mad at Bruce as Damian just showed up and stole the Robin name. Jason offered to get Tim a drink but he rejected pointing out the were both underage.

It wasn’t long after that he turned 18. He was headed out of a gas station with the first legal box cigarettes he had ever bought that he got a call from Dick asking him to come to the cave, it was important. So he did, everyone did. And it was a grim affair as Bruce had died. Jason didn’t handle his grief well and left the cave before he could hear the message that was left for him. He left Gotham city as well, both because he needed some space from the situation and because he knew that there was about to be a fight over who would wear the cowl.

He went to LA and met up with an old friend, Eddie Bloomberg who was acting as part time tech support for the Teen Titans. The two had a happy, tearful reunion. Jason, who was crashing on Eddie’s couch for the moment continued his work as Red Hood but it was mellowed out. There was a combination of reasons for this, Dick’s support (even though it had been withdrawn), not wanting Bruce’s ghost judging him, and trying to get in a better mental space and not throw away the chance he had.

After Bruce had came back Jason went back to Gotham, and they hashed things out, by no means were they on the same page, they probably never would be again. But Bruce was willing to offer Jason a place in the batfamily as long as he agreed not to kill anyone, and Jason was willing to agree.

Jason and Stephanie got to know each other pretty well since they were given the chance finally. And they got along greatly. It was a nightmare for Bruce however as he had snark coming left and right. Jason also got to know Cass better and they had a couple things to relate on. And for the first time in three years he was finding happiness in his family life.

But again, nothing lasts for forever. Jason late one night while on patrol noticed someone had broken into the penthouse of a well respected lawyer. And he found Twilight was the intruder and it was no mistake that he caught him. The League wanted him back and weren’t willing to take no for an answer, and Grant felt it was personal. So the ensuing argument was intense and by the end the fight had found it’s way onto the top of Wayne tower where Grant misstepped and fell to his seeming death, and worse batman had seen the end of the fight and given prior events including falling to death and Jason Bruce didn’t trust that it was an accident and banished Jason from the city till things were more clear.

Out on his own yet again he decided to form a team and work on the move, no superhero wants the murdery batfamily member in their city for long. So he got on his bike and he went back to LA.

#jason todd #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #taila al ghul #dc #eddie bloomberg #my writing #earth 33

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iamwhelmed · 5 years

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The Jisatsu Experiment: Chapter 2

Some people were interested, so here’s the second chapter!

EDIT: If you like my writing, consider my ko-fi? <3

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Summary: Years after Conan leaves with no explanation and Haibara becomes a distant Miyano Shiho, Ayumi graduates and heads off to Himura University-- as far away from Tokyo as she can get. She finds it hard to leave Conan and Haibara behind her despite Mitsuhiko and Genta moving on, but the mystery she's about to take on is going to begin unraveling a past she'd repressed, and it's very possible she's bitten off more than she can chew. Just how deep does this case run? Shinichi may just have to step in, but can he and Shiho stomach the mess Ayumi has gotten herself into, or save her from herself?

Katashi was ambitious, very by-the-book; he wanted to join the police force, become a detective, put away the bad guys. He almost hadn't believed her when she told him who she was, that she was a part of that little group of kids who went around foiling illegal plans ten years ago. The Detective Boys, even after Conan's departure and Ai's return to the adult world, had remained in the news for a good while. They spent summers in junior high solving cases around Japan, and Shinichi kept it no secret that he'd taken them under his wing. The Detective Boys were as much a household name as Heiji Hattori or Kaito Kid, though their individual names were little known. When they graduated to high school, that's when their name died down, (that was the year Mitsuhiko found his place at the lead of their class, the year Genta found his love for cooking). Her name stayed out of the papers. She wanted it that way. The Detective Boys were on hiatus, that's what she said. She'd flashed Katashi her badge (she held it on her person still; she told herself it was just in case). Katashi's nose wrinkled before he said "so what are you doing here?"

She didn't have the heart to tell him she was getting away from those memories.

He was a straight-A student, didn't appear to try very hard to keep it that way. He was focused on cracking a case that the police had sort of given up on-- kidnapping cases, a string of them, spanning at least two decades. All children, ages one to three. No suspects, no bodies, nothing. Just a place of suspicion that'd been burned to the ground twelve years ago. They'd found bodies of hired guns, sure, but nobody important. They suspected a trafficking ring, but had never found any trail, and the kidnappings had stopped eighteen years ago. Katashi, smart as he was, couldn't find anything to open the case up again. "Those kids are still missing. They were your age, Yoshida-san. That could have been you." She resisted pointing out that it could have been him, too. The kids would be adults now, and Ayumi admitted she didn't want to think about the grim life those children had lived-- assuming they had. Katashi plopped the case files on the library table, eyes looking as deep with death as Takumi's regularly did. If her face portrayed concern, he'd ignored it with a wave. "I gotta find a way to bring these sick bastards to justice."

She peeled back the first page of the folder and looked one child in its grey eyes. A school photo, black-and-white. She turned the page to find an in-color picture of an even younger child, ball in hand, reaching just far enough so that the puppy sharing the frame couldn't grip it between its small, barred teeth. "Do the police know you took this?"

Katashi's cheeks burned, and he waved her off with a snort.

That didn't answer her question, so she'd take the plausible deniability. "Why this case? If it was closed 10 years ago…"

"Trafficking rings don't just disappear, Yoshida-san. They either got better at hiding, or something even worse got to them first."

She turned the page to find photo after photo of ash, charred skulls beyond recognition, and symbols. She frowned. It was hard to see the carving under the ash, but it was an eye, egyptian-looking, eyelashes looking more like the rays of a sun, lower lid looking like a river thick with eyeliner. Claws, razor sharp, sat below and threatened to swallow the eye in their paws. She'd seen it somewhere before. "Did anything come up about these symbols carved in the floor?"

Katashi shook his head and plopped unceremoniously into the seat across from her, huffing and pouting as he leaned forward and dug his jaw into his palm. She nearly giggled at him; instead, she bit the inside of her lip and shook herself of the tickling urge. "No, a friend told me there was nothing and I didn't believe him. Did some digging myself and he wasn't kidding. No mobs, gangs, individuals, cults- anything- associated with that symbol. It's like it was a company brand or something but…"

"That would have come up in the search results."

"Especially in the police database."

"Did you," Ayumi raised an eyebrow "have clearance for that?" Katashi didn't respond, so she made a mental note. Not as by-the-book as I thought. She frowned and skimmed the rest of the folder. The only thing tying the kidnappings back to that burned down building was a small tuft of unburned hair belonging to one of the kidnapped, even more confusing when the body itself didn't turn up in the wreck. "Have you found anything?"

"No. That symbol doesn't show up anywhere else in this city, and I checked abandoned compounds. So if they're still here, they're well-hidden."

Ayumi frowned. She'd have to do some research herself if she was going to help him with this case. She thought about asking Haibara-- Miyano-- because maybe she'd know if she'd worked for that organization Conan took down before he left, but the thought left as quickly as it came. No, she wouldn't answer the call, Ayumi knew this. Stupid. She shook her head. "I'll do some research myself, see if my friends back home may know anything." Sato and Takagi may be able to help. Katashi's eyes leveled with hers, and he looked at her almost quizzically. He huffed into his hand, chin digging into his palm.

"Oi, Yoshida? Don't breathe a word about this to the other two, okay? I don't think that toe-haired idiot would ever let it go if he knew I asked for…" help. The word was right there, but he was too proud to say it. Ayumi didn't dare refrain, she giggled.

"Right, right, not a word to Youta-kun or Akiko-chan! And Katashi-kun?"

"Hm?" He was avoiding eye-contact with her now, taking the folder and stuffing it into his bag. She smiled to herself and placed her hand on his.

He blinked. "You can call me Ayumi-chan!" Katashi seemed to stare at her for a moment. Was he perplexed? Guilty? His eyes read something of sorrow, and she wondered if she should regret saying anything. "Ah, unless…." Her hand twitched, pulled only centimeters away, and he moved agiley to grab her by the wrist. Ayumi glanced down at their hands, then back up at Katashi. His eyes had narrowed with skepticism, or maybe it was vexation. He was hard to read, always looking like he was hiding something, always thinking, and now he seemed to be thinking about her. She only wished she knew what.

"Oi, give me a chance to respond before you get off pouting."

She blanched, nose wrinkling as she tugged her wrist back. His hand followed, grazing the thin of her arm before letting her go. She crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out, like a petulant child. "I wasn't pouting!" Yes she was, and she knew it. She was always the type to open her heart to the world despite the universe's apparent urge to squash that bit of her at random opportunity. She was just trying to be friendly. Katashi was a friend, last names didn't feel right.

"Heh," he stuck his hand in his pocket and threw his bag over his shoulder, nose in the air as he went for the staircase down. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Ayumi-chan…"

This ice cream was, no contest, the best she'd ever had. She didn't know how Youta found the place, or how that little old man got the chocolate of her frozen choice to be so creamy, but she found a piece of heaven on earth every time she got a perfectly rounded ball on a perfectly folded cone. Youta pointed out that she'd gotten some on her nose; she wiped it away anxiously.

They took this route on the way to class every other day, treated themselves and each other to a snack whenever they could, not that dairy and ice were all that nutritious. Youta practically insisted every time, and there was no way she could say no when he could so plainly see the drool hanging over her chin. The walk was longer than the closest route to class, but this route was better. She'd missed the company in her high school years, and Youta was nothing if not talkative. She found not a moment dull with him yammering on about football or grades or this case his dad was working on; it made her smile. Youta was smart, she could see that, if not overly sure of himself, and he was kind. He got good grades, knew how to wrap up a wound, did statistics like an actuary. He expressed no interest in following his father's footsteps, least of all in becoming a lawyer. He loved the field, the grass-- the ball and the sneakers. Some evenings, she and Akiko watched Katashi and Youta sparring in an empty lawn, feet moving so fast that she could hardly see the ball until it was dead center in the bushes the boys had deemed "the goal". Youta was so alive, then, always shot her and Akiko a smile and a wink, flexed until Katashi kicked the ball right in his face. He was comfortable, warm, like the first ray of sunlight on an early morning. She eschewed his arrogance and his flirting, but she'd dare say she was warming up to the idiot.

Ayumi laughed at the way Youta tried to lick ice cream off the bridge of his nose, then she glanced at the television display lighting up the store window as they passed. The local news station, playing footage of what looked like a convenience store taped off with yellow. She paused, waited for the Headline to go from "National Donut Day" to something more menacing. The suspected trafficking case was still cold for the moment. Sato and Takagi had been unable to help, had never even heard of the case before she'd brought it up. She was left with little challenge, and a small mystery to quench her thirst was just the thing she needed; the local news did not disappoint.

Kidnappings, so far there had been three of them, one for each month of the new semester. All girls, kidnapped from campus as far as last known witnesses could tell. They each turned up seemingly at random, one at the school's pool, another at the cafe, this one at a convenience store. They were each beaten within inches of their lives, burned, shocked, cut, but it was all done with some form of precision (if she was right about the markings she saw in one photograph). The oddest thing, the woman on the screen narrated, was the inexplicable amnesia each girl had. None had a memory of being kidnapped, nor their time in captivity or kidnapper. It was as though their memories had been erased the way one erases footage from a camera, unnerving to say the least when the human brain was involved. Ayumi frowned and took a contemplative lick of her ice cream.

"Ah, don't worry about all that kidnapping stuff," Youta raised a naked arm, other hand pressing his sleeve up until his bare muscles (of which, she would admit, he had plenty) for the whole street to see. He gave her a wink and a boisterous grin, boyish in nature and cocky. "Nobody's gonna take you while I'm around!" Most men, they'd be joking, and some men, like Genta, would be barking about what they'd sooner cower from. Not Youta, she could tell. He was too genuine, too proud and believed himself much too capable to fear much of anything. She couldn't help herself, she giggled.

"Thank you, Youta-kun, but I'll be just fine!" She waved a dismissive hand his way as she passed him. "One white knight is more than enough…"

She couldn't see the way he watched her behind her back, the tender manner in which his brows creased, or the disquiet settling in his eyes.

The library was quiet at night. University students rarely spent time in its great halls studying on the weekends, and even those dutiful enough were kicked out minutes before the sun began to set. She knew some student librarians stuck around, but there were so few in a building with so many floors. Himura, truly, was a school to behold. For the night though, she would be spending her time scouring the shelves, as there would be plenty of time to stare in awe, later.

The second floor overlooked the first floor on a balcony, green carpeted steps leading up with golden accents and chocolate rails that adorned the railings like artsy fences scaling the outlook. There was another staircase to her right, leading to the third floor, but the second floor's closest wall, filled window to hall with books, was her target. She padded up the staircase with a careful hand at the rail, steps light and slow to avoid detection-- theoretically. She just needed to look at a few items, that's all. She wasn't taking anything. She glanced from right to left and bolted (on the tips of her toes) over to the shelf where the recent magazines were. The one from the top, she snatched it and flipped it open on the table behind her.

The articles didn't have much more than the news story did, but it had pictures. Every girl had blue eyes, light, pretty, like polished angelite. They were all eighteen, new to university like she was, though their backgrounds differed. None of them seemed to have gone to high school in the same area, but they all had the same skin tone with some variations in tan. None of them had any family around, maybe that was the key? Ayumi shook her head. No, she didn't have enough information to go there yet. It would help if I knew exactly what was being done to them. If I could get into the hospital…

There was a creak in the wood; Ayumi jumped.

A girl with two braided pigtails leveled her with an even stare despite the proximity of Ayumi's pepper spray posed inches from her face. Hands on her hips, she raised one to her head with a sigh. "Yoshida-san, what do you think you're doing?"

"Chihiro-chan!"

She readjusted her round glasses with one finger, then waltzed by on feather-light feet. One hand slammed down on the table as Chihiro read over the open page, tossing one ribboned pigtail over her shoulder. Ayumi stood by, awkwardly, uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot and twiddling her thumbs. "I- I was just looking--!"

"At the kidnapping case?"

"Just in case!"

Chihiro watched her, one eye glazed over in the light of the window, the other watching her from the other side of her glasses with contemplation. Ayumi did her best to stand her ground, unsure if a librarian was obligated to report her trespassing to the school. That would be quite the way to end her first semester, she had to admit. Going back to Tokyo with her hopes of moving on, dashed before she had the chance to solve as much as one case. She gave Chihiro her best please-don't-get-me-expelled smile. Chihiro took a deep breath. "You have nothing to worry about, Yoshida-san. The girls this creep is going after are all major loners."

Ayumi, still somewhat unsteady from the generous bout of adrenaline processing in her system, approached the table to point at the headline, Third Kidnapping This Semester. "That's nothing new. Most kidnappers go for easy targets. Girls new to the school and unfamiliar with the area are less likely to have friends."

"That's not all, you know. All of these girls had prior write-ups for misconduct."

"What?"

Chirhio pointed to the first girl, then the next, and the last. "This one punched a guy in the face first week. This one was suspended for a whole month after she got caught bullying some girl. This one cheated our second exam week." Chihiro folded the newspaper into the neat square she'd pulled it in, fingers moving with such grace that Ayumi took a moment to notice how few paper cuts she had for somebody who worked vigorously with textbooks and novels. "Besides, you don't have to worry anyway, Yoshida-san," Their eyes met as Chihiro made one last vertical fold.

Ayumi watched her, patiently. Some part of her worried that this was the moment the mallet would fall, that Chihiro would tell her she was reporting her to the campus heads, that she'd have to fight to stay in a university she'd worked so hard to get into.

Chihiro placed the newspaper back on the shelf, turning to her with a red-cheeked pout, and a side-eye that could kill. "No kidnapper would dare take somebody surrounded by admirers seven days a week."

Ayumi's cheeks lit up, and she hurried to deny, deny, deny.

She knew she was groaning a lot, perhaps the measure would be more than that of a bearable amount, but she was tired. Despite hounding and bugging and, in one case, jumping out from behind a tree and startling, the local police about the hospital the kidnapped girls resided in, she'd come back with hands so empty she swore the skin had been scraped off. They'd been kind enough to give her some details-- internal bleeding, burns to the scalp, lots of scarred tissue, and yet no trauma to the cranium (as far as x-rays could tell). They wouldn't let Ayumi see them, talk to them, no matter how desperately she pleaded (though they let her know, when she grew distraught, that the girls were expected to make a full recovery-- which helped, it helped a lot). A lesser girl, or maybe just a girl a few years greener, might have stooped to crying. But Ayumi was a woman now, and no way was a case going to frustrate her to tears. So instead, she'd toss and turn at night and grumble all morning.

"Oi, oi, Ayumi-chan," Katashi nudged her with his arm. "You're annoying. What's with all the unattractive moaning?"

She perked up, unintentionally raising a hand to her lips. "Unattractive?"

"Yeah, you kinda sound like a hungry mountain lion!" Youta's warm smile usually helped, but she was on the receiving end of his taunts this time, and dammit if she didn't feel like making the jerks carry her to class.

"It's nothing, I just didn't sleep well."

"Yeah," Youta taunted on. "What kept you up? The evil witch of Himura stealing your youth?"

"Cut it out! I'm already losing sleep! I don't need to be scared out of bed!"

"Hah hah! Look at your face! You don't think the Witch exists do you?"

"What witch? Stop making things up!"

The group of three passed by the store once more, where the TV display was alive and blaring, painting the screen with cross tape and blue headlines. Katashi watched it as they passed, eyes narrowing as blue and yellow seemed to twist and fall into misshapen hues, fading until the screen was red.

#detective conan #Ayumi Yoshida #Conan Edogawa #shinichi kudo #ai haibara #shiho miyano #genta kojima #mitsuhiko tsuburaya #Katashi Sasaki #Youta Oshiro #Chihiro Akiyama

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