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neopuppy · 3 years

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Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)

Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck

Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes

Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.

Intro—>

Part 1–>

“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”

“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.

“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.

“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.

“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.

“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.

“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”

“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.

“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.

“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.

Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.

“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.

“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”

“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.

“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.

——————————————————————————

Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.

Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..

“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.

“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.

“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.

“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.

“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.

“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.

“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.

“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.

“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.

“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.

“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.

“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.

“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”

“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.

“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.

“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.

“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.

“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.

“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.

“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..

“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.

“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.

Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.

“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.

Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..

——————————————————————————

“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.

“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.

“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.

“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.

“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.

“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.

“Right..”

“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.

“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.

“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.

“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.

“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.

“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.

“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”

“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.

“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”

“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”

“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.

“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.

“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.

“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”

——————————————————————————-

“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”

“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.

“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.

“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.

“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.

“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.

“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.

“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.

“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.

“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.

“Fucking jerk.”

—————————————————————————-

“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.

“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”

“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.

“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.

“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”

“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..

“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”

You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.

Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.

“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.

Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.

“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.

“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.

“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”

Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..

“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.

“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”

Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.

“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”

Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.

“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”

Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.

Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.

Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.

“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.

“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.

“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”

“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.

“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.

“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.

“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.

“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..

“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.

“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”

Part 3–>

Taglist:

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bubbleteaimagines · 3 years

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age gap

tony stark oneshot

tony x you

swearing, large age gap

in this day and age it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

but it was.

y/n l/n and tony stark became trending worldwide, every gossip magazine and newspaper out for whatever information they could get about your relationship.

the relationship by the way, that had a 28 year age gap.

you were 20 and tony was turning 48, though it seemed neither of you cared as much as the world did.

you thought it was perfectly normal, seeing as your parents were years apart and tony simply didn’t give a damn.

‘screw the tabloids’ he always said, but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

at home, you were able to relax with the idea of your age gap as it was just the two of you being y/n and tony.

but out in public, it was an entirely different deal.

whispers, stares, pictures. you name it and people did it, not even caring or respecting your private time with tony when you went out.

you didn’t expect for it to bother you as much as it did. you thought that maybe with tony by your side you could block out the whispers and the hateful stares but it was nearly impossible as it happened almost everywhere you went.

even if you went grocery shopping for god’s sake, someone still had something negative to say.

of course, tony defended you as much as he could. he tried to shield you from the hateful words and articles but sometimes he wasn’t enough.

sometimes, it did get to you and soon you realized you didn’t know how much more you could take.

you loved tony, but after being constantly called a gold digger and his sugar baby, you began to doubt yourself, and your relationship.

were you really as manipulative as the papers said? were you really just with tony for his money?

of course not. deep down you knew that with or without money you loved tony stark. and he loved you, but it didn’t help that he also loved to spoil you and he was paying almost all of your college tuition.

even though you insisted he didn’t, he did anyways. he reassured you after countless protest that that was just something he did; he took care of everyone he loved.

eventually you were forced to settle with the idea. but it never stopped the running thoughts in your head.

am i really that bad as everyone says?

it was during a christmas party that tony was holding that you finally snapped.

tony had gone all out; getting the most expensive decorations and inviting all of the richest people he knew.

and of course, since it was tony, he also got the best alcohol money could buy, and unfortunately you weren’t allowed to drink a single drop.

all night, you had stood awkwardly by tony’s side in your pretty red dress, holding a cup full of water and laughing uncomfortably as you were forced to listen to drunk rich people tell unamusing stories.

by now, the music was blasting, night had fallen, and you were pretty sure you were only one not drunk at the party, minus tony and steve.

the elegant cup that you pretended to drink from held nothing expect for water and it was only another painful reminder that you were probably the youngest one at the party.

out of respect, tony decided he wasn’t going to drink either but that did nothing to ease you. If anything, you wished that he had been drinking so that he wouldn’t remember the embarrassing conversation you were having with some of the housewives he invited.

“so, y/n, tell me,” a woman name martha kalnins gushed as she sat on one of tony’s luxurious couches, obviously drunk from one of the many glasses of wine she had had. “Is Tony really as amazing in bed as everyone says he is?”

a round of laugher from the other housewives around you made you shift uncomfortably, thankful the dark room didn’t show the frown radiating off of you.

“uh… i uh,” you sounded like a child, struggling to answer her question and you laughed uncomfortably as to not show how disturbed you really were. you shared a look with tony.

“i mean … h-he’s great at everything, honestly. it’s tony stark we’re talking about,” you answered unsurely, and tony squeezed your thigh as the women laughed again.

“oh, i guess you’re right,” martha slurred and took another drink. “that tony is a catch. hell, if i had been twenty years younger like you i would’ve snatched him up, too. with that tight little body of yours it’s no wonder he’s so eager to pay your bills.”

another round of laughter and you could feel tony beginning to tense up beside you. now, it was your turn to squeeze his leg and you turned back to the women with a tight smile.

“oh, tony doesn’t pay my bills,” you tried to assure them but they waved it off.

“oh nonsense. why else would you be with a man that’s almost 50?” another woman asked you and you threw her a sharp glare.

you were starting to heat up, not appreciating their little jabs at your relationship.

“why am i with him?” you pulled out your cold tone and scoffed at her. “i don’t know— maybe because i love him?” you said a little angrily.

how dare they insinuate anything else than the truth: you loved tony and you didn’t give a damn about his age.

the woman snorted. “yeah. that’s what i told myself when i first met howie,” she threw a glance to an older man in the corner. “sure does make the sex a lot easier when you think you love them.”

you couldn’t stop your blood from boiling.

“how dare you!”

in an instant, you were up and out of your seat, the woman’s smile long gone as you angrily got in her face.

“y/n!” tony tried to stop you but you were sick of it. you were sick of it all; the jokes, the jabs, the little comments that nobody had any business making on your relationship.

you were done.

“how dare you talk about my relationship like that when you know nothing about us!” you fumed and suddenly you had everyone’s attention.

“who are you come into our house and as our guest disrespect us? you don’t know a thing about tony and i. not a single damn thing. you don’t know about all of the late nights we have, all of the laughs we share and all of the movies we watch. you don’t know about all the things we have in common besides sex and you damn well don’t know anything about me! you don’t, because if you did then you’d know i’m not with him for the money, or the fame, or whatever else you think is associated with tony stark. i’m not here for any of that. i’m here for him, so why don’t you get your head out of your ass and realize that just because you spread your legs for money, that doesn’t mean the rest of us do!”

by the time you finished you were panting and everyone was in complete shock. it was silent, and the woman in front of you looked as if she didn’t know what the hell to do.

no one did as you stood with your chest moving heavily, your well deserved rant coming off of your consciousness.

you huffed.

“well then. seeing as i’m only 20, i guess it’s past my bedtime,” you rolled your eyes and looked at the clock, noticing it was 1AM.

“i’ll see you all … whenever. goodnight.”

you did a dramatic turn and then proceeded to exit tony stark style. leaving a big commotion behind you and no doubt people that would spread your words everywhere the next morning.

that would be another problem you would have to worry about, but right now you focused on just sleeping the entire night away.

sighing, you changed out of your dress into some shorts and swiftly got under the covers.

you closed your eyes, and you tried to let sleep come to you but it was almost impossible as you were painfully aware the spot next to you was empty.

tony hadn’t come to bed yet and it was like your body refused to let you rest until he did.

sighing again, you peeled your eyes open again and decided to stare up at the blank ceiling, waiting for tony to come to bed.

when he finally did, it was around 3AM in the morning but even the dark you could see his shit-eating grin.

“well, that was quite the performance tonight, miss l/n,” tony teased almost immediately and you groaned.

“sorry if i ruined your party,” you apologized to tony and buried your face in a pillow. “i just got so mad that people kept insinuating i was only with you for that that i just … i just snapped.” you explained.

tony was still grinning and you felt the bed dip as he gently slid in beside you.

“don’t worry about it. i’d say that was more entertaining than mrs. mccoy getting so drunk she admitted she was cheating with garden boy,” tony laughed and you snorted.

“great. i was the biggest scandal of the night,” you sighed.

“biggest one of the century, actually. how long do you think it’s gonna take for people to start talking about it?”

“i’d say it’ll make an appearance in the morning. some magazine talking about how tony stark’s sugar baby finally blew her fuse,” you yawned and tony chuckled.

“yeah well, at lease i don’t have to worry about if it’s true now.”

“worry if what’s true?”

“that you love me,” he said quietly.

you peered up at him in the dark.

“tony? what? of course i love you,” you frowned. you felt the pillow shift as tony shook his head.

“no, yeah, i know,” he said. “but now i don’t have to worry about if it’s tony stark you’re attracted to, or iron man.”

“clearly i wouldn’t be attracted to a piece of metal, tony,” you both rolled your eyes simultaneously.

“yeah, no shit,” tony sighed. “but i mean like— i don’t have to worry about which personality you’re attracted to. now i know for sure that it’s me that you want, and not just my name. or my fortune.”

“well, technically both are still up from grabs,” you smirked in the dark. “haven’t signed a pre-nup yet.”

“oh but you definitely will now,” tony scoffed, but there was humor behind both of your words.

you both found comfort in knowing that you only wanted each other, and not for the reasons everyone else thought.

you weren’t with tony for the money. and he wasn’t with you for the sex.

you both genuinely and honestly loved each other, and now you knew that no ridiculous tabloid or paper was ever gonna make you doubt that again.

#tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x reader #iron man x you #iron man #tony stark one shot

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.”

Rodeo’s Two Pieces:

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic.

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies.

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most.

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat.

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point?

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.”

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed.

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.”

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.”

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually.

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards.

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.”

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table.

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore.

He opted for a cup of water instead.

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail.

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread.

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth.

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.”

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears.

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl.

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island.

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar.

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.”

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell.

“It’s yeast alright.”

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips.

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.”

Nero shrugged.

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.”

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.”

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing.

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven.

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it.

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee.

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth.

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.”

“Support local businesses, Nero.”

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume.

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies.

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee.

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee.

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip.

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie.

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work.

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned.

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma.

(II)- Curl Up And Dye.

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more.

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter.

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company.

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless.

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.”

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement.

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath.

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course.”

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims.

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled.

So here they were now.

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head.

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered.

“Um, what did you try to do-”

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands.

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair.

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out.

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut.

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.”

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly.

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed.

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless.

No one liked being helpless.

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head.

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise.

“What?”

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more.

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity.

“What color, Nero?”

“Neon green-”

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly.

“I don’t mind it.”

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It.

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.”

“Shut up, Dante.”

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call.

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off.

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard.

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell.

“Nice broccoli head.”

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat.

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero.

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said.

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.”

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk.

“Kyrie, wait-”

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.”

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response.

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them.

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed.

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured.

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing.

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.”

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke.

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick.

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history.

“Where do we even start?” Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress.

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally.

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some.

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled.

“Hell yeah.”

#nirvana and dominic fike reference?#nirvana and dominic fike reference #not much vergil in this work i do not care for the man today #nero x kyrie #nerokiri #devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #nero sparda #kyrie #dmc kyrie #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nicoletta goldstein

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST DAY

When your cousin Sean and his friend start up a valet business at Nino’s, where you work as a waitress, you don’t expect it to lead to any of what happens next.

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 1893 Rating: T - mild language, reference to harassment

Masterlist

“So, how does it feel, your first big boy job?” you teased, elbowing your cousin in the ribs.

“Oh haha,” Sean drawled, swatting at you. “You’re hilarious.”

“And adorable.” You dodged out his reach, and the two of you proceeded to chase each other around the podium for several minutes.

“I’m serious though, Sean. Suggesting Nino start doing valet parking, organizing the whole thing. I think it’s great. Better than car washes and dog walking. It shows initiative, and it’ll get Don off your back a bit.”

“How’d you know that was one of the goals?”

“Because I know you. Really, my only disappointment is that you brought him along.” You gestured over your shoulder to Derek who was just walking up.

“Hey, come on now!” he cried.

“Derek’s my best mate, you know that Y/N,” Sean sighed. “And I think you two would get along if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, but he’s so...him,” you sighed, making a face of mock disgust.

“Yo, hold up, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, whether he took it as a warning or challenge was up to him.

“Yeah. If you got a problem with me, I wanna know what it is.”

“I don’t have a problem with you, per se. It’s just that...you’re arrogant, and loud. Not even your voice, just, the way you are. You act like you’re hot shit, but you’re not half as clever as you think.”

He scoffed in disbelief and even though you knew you should leave it there, something made you want to keep pushing, almost to see what happened if you got him riled enough.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be working nothing but a string of dead-end jobs.” You shrugged. “Frankly, I think both of you are wasting considerable talent being valets instead of looking at the bigger picture.”

“Wait, hang on!” Sean protested. “A minute ago you were praising my initiative.”

“Better to start your own idea than working someone else’s, sure, but I was mostly trying to be nice.” You flashed an apologetic grimace, nose wrinkling. “You’re my favorite cousin and I love you?” you continued in a rush, hoping to cover up your admission of insincerity with charm.

Sean rolled his eyes fondly at you.

“Well if you’re so smart, how come you ain’t doin any better? You’re just like us, Miss Waitress,” Derek said mockingly.

“Except I’m doing this because textbooks cost like four hundred bucks a piece and I don’t have an extra kidney to sell. Unless you’re going to give me yours?” You gave him another challenging look before sighing. “As soon as I have that degree in my hand, I am outta here.”

“Some of us got families to take care of, can’t just run away when we get bored.”

“I…” you took a deep breath, deflating. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I know Sean’s got talent and someone else is bound to notice eventually, and there’s probably a brain in that head of yours somewhere. I find it hard to believe that you want to do this for life. Family first sure, I get it, but don’t you want...don’t you deserve more?”

Derek and Sean both frowned, unsure of how to answer you. Of course neither of them wanted to be valets or car washers or grocery baggers forever. But they had bills to pay, food and rent and electricity to afford. If they didn’t keep up with here and now, all the bigger picture thinking and dreaming of the future in the world wasn’t going to help.

Something inside the restaurant caught your eye and you shook your head.

“I should probably get in there. Nino’s got Val doing place settings, and we probably don’t want to be auctioning off butter knives.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your black slacks and flashed them both a smile. “Good luck tonight.”

Derek made no secret of staring at your ass as you walked away, a fact that Sean definitely noticed.

“Come on, seriously?” he asked his friend, making a gesture of both annoyance and defeat.

“What dawg? Your cousin’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s hot as hell. I’m just appreciating.”

“Nino,” one of the chefs asked a few days later. “How come you don’t feed those two boys parking cars? You feed everyone else. They must be starved out there all night.”

Nino looked thoughtful, as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. You frowned, loading your tray with table seven’s appetizers.

“Well, they don’t really work for Nino like the rest of us, do they? They’re independent contractors,” you pointed out.

“Cold, Y/N,” the busboy, John, teased. “Throwing your cousin under the bus.”

You shrugged, weaving your way out of the kitchen. “If he wants food he should learn to put it in his contract.”

About an hour later, Nino was flagging you over, for the third time that night.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, rushed. “No one is eating the lasagna.”

“I can try to push more of it, talk it up or something?” you offered, not sure why he was telling you.

“No, no. It’s fine. I just don’t want to see it go to waste.” He smiled like an idea was suddenly dawning on him. “Why don’t you take some to the boys out front. David is right, they must be hungry.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. You should have suspected as soon as it was brought up that Nino would cave. Nodding, you went back to the kitchen to relay the order and wait.

With the two plates, rolled silverware tucked in your apron pocket, you made easy work of weaving through the restaurant and elbowing open the doors, only to grimace uncomfortably when you realized it was just Derek at their podium.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly, making him jump in surprise. “Uh...Nino thought you might be hungry and no one was eating the lasagna so he sent me out with some for you and Sean...where is Sean?”

“He’s just parking somebody, he’ll be back in a minute. Nino’s givin' us free food?” you tried to suppress a smile at the excitement in his voice.

“No, I just brought these out to taunt you,” you joked, rolling your eyes as you handed him one of the plates and dug into your pocket for his fork.

You were silent for a minute, shifting awkwardly, from foot to foot, still holding Sean’s plate and not sure what to do with it.

“About what I said the other night,” you said finally, chewing on your lip.

Derek stopped, fork halfway to his mouth and looked at you.

“I may have been...unreasonably harsh…” you said hesitantly. “And I…”

The words died on your throat as you found yourself wondering if you were actually sorry. You felt guilty, but you still meant what you said. Sean and Derek were both smart people, and you thought they could do better. You had been working at Nino’s since you were nineteen, and had seen so many people insist that a job was just temporary, only to still be there almost a decade later. You didn’t want to see that happen to either of them.

You were trying to remind yourself that it wasn’t about you, when Derek cut through your thoughts.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s all good bro.”

“Oh.” He seemed so genuine in his reassurance and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Instead you changed the subject. “Where is Sean? Shouldn’t he be able to park a car quickly if he’s going to be a valet?”

“I can just hold onto his food, if you gotta get back in there.”

“Please,” you shook your head. “I’m in no rush to return to Awkward First Date, Going to Ask for a Divorce Any Second, or Family With the Twins from The Shining.”

“How come you only got three tables when the place is packed? Don’t you handle five or six like a breeze?”

“I got moved off two, one of them was my fault. So instead I get anyone that wants to eat at the bar. And my section has the last empty table. How’d you know how many tables I usually have?”

“Uh...I overheard some people talking when I went for a smoke break.” His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding your curious look.

“Riight.” You nodded exaggeratedly. There was no way in hell you believed that, unless they’d been gossiping about you losing tables, but he didn’t seem to know about that.

“Anyway, why’d they get pulled?”

“The one that was my fault or the one that wasn’t?”

“Both,” he sighed, making a somewhat impatient gesture. “Sean is out parking the first car that’s showed up in an hour. Talkin’ to you’s at least something to do.”

“Glad to know I rank above staring at the sidewalk or counting the windows across the street.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.”

You leaned back, resting your elbows against the edge of the podium, bringing your faces surprisingly close together. He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth to distract himself from that fact, and the things he was thinking he could do.

“Couple of suit-and-ties celebrating some sort of business deal. One of them asked the new kid if she was on the menu, a few other lewd comments. They made her really uncomfortable, so Nino switched us around, figuring I could handle it.” You shrugged. “Same guy got a little...grabby for things that aren’t his. Nino spotted it and decided to take over the table himself. That’s one down.”

Derek frowned. He’d known plenty of people that worked in restaurants. Managers, and owners especially, didn’t typically move someone off a table for a little handsiness. But maybe Nino was one of the rare ones that went above and beyond for his staff. And if not and you didn’t want to tell him the whole thing, who was he to judge?

“The other was a complaint that I was ‘belligerent.’”

“But you’re cuddlier than a kitten, how could they ever think that?” he laughed.

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing along.

“All I did was correct them on my name,” you protested. “...every time they called me Sweetcheeks.”

For some reason, this only made Derek laugh harder, nearly choking on a mouthful of pasta.

“Definitely not hostile.”

“Whatever, you dick.” You shoved him playfully and suddenly the two of you froze.

This was a shift in dynamic, a tipping point. Would he let you get away with it and tilt the scale from acquaintance to friendship? Or would he take offense?

Sean found you in that waiting tension, shattering it with his greeting as he finally returned from parking the car. You awkwardly explained the meal delivery and sighed that you had to get back to work, someone would come get the dishes in a bit.

Derek locked eyes with you as you turned to go. You flashed a quick smile back.

“Did I miss something?” you heard Sean ask, lilt exaggerated by his confusion.

#canon divergent au #look we all love Sean but I am very fond of Derek #and he did not deserve what happened #so I'm gonna fix it #eventually #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic

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jamaisvuandyou · 4 years

Text

Please Dry My Eyes: Part 1

Description: Jin, Hoseok, and Yoongi have had a running streak of bad luck, but Jin isn't sure what to make of this one: His old friend's trickery that leads to him being the new father of a little toddler, Jeon Jungkook.

Originally Posted: 05/17/2020

Angst: 2,068 words

A/N: First part! As if I didn’t have enough on my plate.

Next Part.

Jin groaned softly, then carefully rolled out of bed so that he wouldn’t wake the other two that were sleeping in his bed. It wasn’t that they enjoyed sharing a room and a bed, but it was all they could afford so they all put up with it.

He went out and looked through the mail he hadn’t had time to look through the day before, noting that the water bill was pretty high. He sighed and rubbed his face, going to make himself some coffee, only to realize that there was only enough for two cups and Yoongi would need both just to wake up enough to get to work.

He got it brewing for the younger, looking through their cupboards to see if he could at least find some tea, but it was his unlucky day. The only tea left was Hoseok’s.

He put the kettle on the stove, then went and dressed for his own day at work before shaking the men awake. “Come on, I put the kettle on and got the coffee brewing. We need to get groceries.”

“Can’t hyung, need to get new shoes. Even the duct tape is falling apart.” Hoseok yawned, and leaned against Jin. “I don’t think I can even afford the shoes. They cut my hours. Again.”

“You should start looking for another job,” Yoongi muttered, trying to hide under the covers, only for them to be ripped away by the oldest.

Hoseok drooped. “I’ve been filling out applications, but it’s like no one is hiring. I’m trying, but…”

“Hey, it’s okay. We know you are. I’ll keep an eye out for places that are hiring,” Jin told him, staving off an early morning anxiety attack and giving Yoongi a glare.

Yoongi winced. “Sorry, Hobi, I’m not awake yet.”

He just nodded, getting up with Jin. “Wait, why is the kettle on?”

“So you can have some tea before work. There’s only enough coffee for Yoongi’s wake-up call. Which is why we need to get groceries so that he won’t be a zombie tomorrow.”

“Did you get some, hyung?” Yoongi asked, looking up blearily.

“I can manage without. You only have an hour until work, get moving.” Jin got up and got his shoes on. “Hobi, make sure he gets out the door on time?”

“Yeah, good luck at work today. Hope you get the promotion.”

“Hyung, I get paid today. I can pitch in for some groceries. Here, I’ll replace it when I deposit my check.” Yoongi scrambled to get the bit of cash he had in his wallet. It wasn’t much and he looked upset at the small amount. “I thought I had more. I’ll get you some extra—”

“Don’t worry about it Yoongi. Keep the extra for your coffee. I know you need it to get through the day.”

Yoongi nodded, but still looked like he felt guilty as he left the room.

Hoseok looked up at him, opening his mouth and then closing it.

Jin put some of the money Yoongi had given him in his hand. “For your dinner. I know you’re going to be home late. I’ll look at the prices of shoes so we can work that into a budget. Take my sneakers for today. I know they’re the wrong size, but at least they won’t fall apart while you’re wearing them. Now I need to get to work. Drink your tea, take deep breaths. It’ll be okay.”

——————

He had lied.

Dear God had he lied. His day went from bad to worse until he was at the store, getting groceries with what little money he had. Aside from his severance pay, it would be his last paycheck and he had to stretch it.

“What do you mean you have a kid and you need me to take care of him?”

“I can’t right now, and his mom is dead. If you don’t take him, he’s going to his grandparents on her side and they’re drunks. Have been drunks. I have custody of him, but I already told his worker that I’m headed out of the country for a semester abroad. I can give you some money to care for him and when you need more, I’ll send it. Please, Seokjin-ah. It’s just for three months.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s almost one and a half.”

Jin was quiet for a moment, putting sneakers that were Hobi’s size into the cart. “I can’t support him. I got fired earlier today.”

“I’ll give you the money to support him. You know I have it. I’ll set up monthly installments so that you can take care of him. Wait, I thought you were up for a promotion?”

“I was. She didn’t like that I rejected her advances. I’d sue, but she convinced the CEOs that she’s a victim and there’s no evidence for either side.” He sighed. “I don’t know. You’ve seen my apartment.”

“Consider it a job, then. You’re a full-time nanny to my kid. Please, I’m begging you.”

Jin sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I need the money and because you’re right. He can’t go to his grandparents. What’s his name and when are you dropping him off?”

“I’m not dropping him off. You guys move into my place. That way you won’t get in trouble for having him in a place like your apartment. If you feel bad, you guys can pay rent. Otherwise it’s just going to stay empty while I’m gone. I’ll let you guys stay after as well since I’m lined up to get that job when I get back and I’ll need a different place anyway. Same rent. I can get it put in an official contract. I also want to make sure you’re his legal guardian in my absence. That way there isn’t any trouble if he needs to see a doctor or something.”

“Fine. Should I meet you somewhere?”

“The law firm. I’ll have my coworker draw up the contract and the legal papers to give you custody in my absence. Jin? Thanks.”

“Hey, you’re doing me a favor too, you know.”

“I do know. That apartment was going to collapse on your heads. While I’m at it, I’ll draw up a contract for payment as well.”

“Alright, I’ll be by to sign it in an hour and a half.”

“Make it three? I need to finish something else before writing it up. Thanks again, Jin. I really owe you for this. I’ll repay you. You’ll love Jungkook. You were always good with kids.”

“I only worked at that daycare for four months, so no promises on how good I’ll do with him. He might get messed up.” Jin grabbed the cheapest bag of rice he could, then a bag of beans. “I mean, it’s good that he’s not a baby, because I have no idea how to take care of one of those and he could die but—”

“Jin, you’ll be fine. You’ll probably take better care of him than I can. I mean, let’s face it, you’re the responsible one of the two of us. I won’t have much time when you get here, so you trust me to write it all up?”

“Yeah, if you email me copies, I can look through them before I get there. See you in three hours.”

“Sure thing.”

“Oh, you never did tell me his name.”

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. The social worker has him until tomorrow, but I’ll update him and he’ll bring Jungkook to the house tomorrow. I’ll be gone by then, but he’ll have the documentation and everything will be finalized by then. You just need to be at the house, by noon, preferably.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Hobi doesn’t work tomorrow so we can get into the house pretty quickly. You’re sure?”

“Positive. I’m staying in a hotel tonight, I’ll give you the key when you get here. Your account still the same?”

“Yeah. You’re su—”

“I’m certain. I’m sending you some money so you can get some supplies, I have more at the house. I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.” Jin stared at his phone for a second, then checked his bank account. He shivered at the amount displayed as being added to his account just a minute later, and quickly looked up what toddlers couldn’t eat so he knew what to stay away from. He’d have to remember to ask about allergies. And he didn’t know how he was going to convince the other two that this was all okay. The contracts would probably help, but Yoongi was skeptical of everything and would think it was some sort of scam. Hoseok would just be confused about how he lost his job and then got a job in one day. And once he was done taking care of Jungkook, he’d have to find another job.

He put fruit in his cart for the first time in what must have been two months. He filled the cart up almost completely for the first time in five months. It couldn’t be a bad thing. It was perfect timing.

—————

“What?!” Yoongi asked, dropping his chopsticks and going for his phone after Jin had started filling him in on his day. “They fired you? How? Why?!”

Jin shook his head, nudging Yoongi’s phone out of his reach. “That’s not important. What is important is the temporary job I got.”

Yoongi blinked stupidly for a moment with his mouth hanging open. He dropped back into his chair, shaking his head. “Talk about whiplash: New job?”

“You remember my old roommate?”

Yoongi frowned, nodding. “The law-student.”

“I’m going to be taking care of his kid for the next three months while he’s on his semester abroad. Which means that I have to stay in his house because of the whole custody issue that had been going on the past couple of months, and he said that you and Hobi could live there too. Same rent as here, and we don’t have to move out when he gets back because he’s going to be getting a place near his new job when he returns. We can get out of here at no extra cost.”

Yoongi looked tempted. “What did you do for this guy? Give him a kidney? Or was it more—”

“Yoongi.”

“What’s the catch, Jin? Aside from taking care of some kid.”

“No catch. I take care of Jungkook, we stay in the house. I get paid for caring for him and money to take care of him. We drew up official contracts and lease agreements and I was appointed temporary legal guardian.” He pulled out the folder with the documents. “And yes, I did read them. He sent me digital copies and I read them before I got there.”

Yoongi seemed to ignore that last bit, the room falling quiet as he read through the housing contract, the work contract, and the documentation instating Jin as the legal guardian of Jungkook in the absence of and until the return of his father. His eyebrows kept coming closer together. “Wait, Jin, can I see what he sent you?”

Jin froze a moment before setting the email in front of Yoongi.

Yoongi’s face went slack after a few moments, eyes wide. “Jin, you better call him.”

“Why?”

“Because I think he just gave you everything he has.”

“What?”

“This says that you are the permanent legal guardian of his kid. This is basically adoption and this is signing over all of his assets to you in the case of his death. This is documentation showing how his property will be split between you and Jungkook after his death and everything is dated a week ago.” Yoongi held up one of the packets, pointing to the date. “Even by the signatures.”

Jin scrambled to call his friend, fear coursing through him. Why would he do this?

“Dude’s going to kill himself,” Yoongi said, alarmed.

The phone rang and rang.

Finally, someone answered. “Who is this?”

Jin paused. “Jin, who is this?”

“Officer Choi, can you identify who’s phone this is?”

Jin gulped down a dry heave. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Oh, God, I’m too late…”

“Sir, can you come down to the station?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in half an hour,” Jin replied quietly, then told the officer his friend’s name.

Yoongi gripped his shoulder. “I’ll drive.”

Next Part.

Masterlist.

#pleasedrymyeyes series #bts fic #bts #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #min yoongi #suga #yoongi #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #jungkook #jeon jungkook #adoption au #parent au #baby jungkook

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anyu-blue · 3 years

Text

I'm just venting here cuz I don't have anyone to really vent to right now.

I know I'm being 'too much' and 'over the top' again... I know I'm throwing a hissy fit I don't need to, and I recognize I'm hurting at least one person with it.

But God damn I'm pissed and I guess I want to be pissed.

There's so much I want to do and so much I feel obligated to do and more... A lot of what I want to do... I just don't have the energy for. I wanted to make all these custom cards for my family since I should be able to ship stuff out this week... But I pulled Everything out and found... I just really didn't want to put that effort in..I mean I REALLY do... But just... Everything was turning out terrible. I'm honestly shocked I managed the 14 for my ex's family for Christmas... I want to do it... But at the same time I don't.

Cuz what's the point? All that effort.. all that care.. when I could just buy them a stupid card instead. So I'll go buy them a card... Because my eldest and younger sister decided to head to the grocery store without me and now I have to steal the car right when I'm off work to do my own necessary shopping anyway (or risk not being able to go at all this week). All because they were nearly out of toilet paper and Tevie wanted to get me cash for her car insurance bill...

Now I wouldn't be so mad except... They didn't even ask if I had extra toilet paper in my bathroom, which I do. AND I told Tevie that she didn't have to worry- I have enough to cover the insurance for her car.

But no. She just HAD to go today so I could have the money by tomorrow when it pulls!!! Um... Tomorrow (technically today, now) is SUNDAY. How the FUCK am I supposed to deposit the $ into my account like she wants when it's a freaking Sunday?! Or or at all when uh.. she has the car until like... 7pm every day anyway?!

Uuuugh... I already told her too, I'm not depositing Anything unless I absolutely need to either. Which I don't cuz I just got paid. AND I told her her insurance will be a part of what she pays me (if she does) for all her other bills!! If I got it I got it. What part of that is so hard to understand?

Apparently all of it...

Or none of it, but it doesn't matter because she doesn't pay attention to stuff like that anyway. Literally just does whatever she wants.. and you know what? I know that's absolutely fine. Sure it inconveniences me because, well, I needed to go to the store too (and told her as such), and had nothing for dinner while they fed themselves again (didn't even ask me AND used a service I have/can get free stuff with if they use my account like I've asked EVERY SINGLE TIME we've EVER used it!!!). (Why did I EVER cook and feed them so much? I was 100% right in that they have no interest in doing the same. They BARELY cook for themselves!! And you can probably already guess what I'm going to say about it... It's all JUNK!!! Cheeto mac and cheese, ramen, air fried chicken and fries, microwaved meals- you should see our pantry right now. Almost entirely instant meals and it makes me want to vomit. What's not instant is the stuff I picked out/ingredients that have just sat since I stopped cooking.. you should see our FRIDGE right now!! Not a vegetable or fruit in sight!! It's all warm fruit cups for Tevie and idek what W0lfie eats to get her vitamins and nutrients- cuz the vitamins I bought haven't been touched except for by me, Though I told them it would be a good idea of they took some each week too.. I'd wager she doesn't!! And that's partly why she's so gd MISERABLE all the time!! She doesn't take care of herself!!)

But in reality it's whatever. Technically Tevie did nothing wrong. She's just living her life how she wants to live it. Who cares about wasting more gas? Apparently not Tevie even though she told me she did... Apparently that's out the window. Who cares about my needs? Apparently not Tevie Though I've been fighting with our property managers and walking her through every gd adulting problem she has (I'm even supposed to help her with her taxes AGAIN cuz she can't do it) and taking care of the house and all the paperwork and all the phonecalls and everything... So it's not like I've been looking out for her and our little sister at all 🙄 or thinking of them and trying to make THEIR lives easier or nothing.

They don't owe me anything obviously... Not even the requests I made of them to do particular adulting tasks on their own (like put in a simple maintenance request, or cover up the open window downstairs, or even buy the materials so I could take care of that stupid problem better than I already have with the shit we had on hand).... It's up to them if they want to follow through. And they don't. Like ever. Because it'll just be done by me because I actually DO care about how much our power bill is.. Tevie sait she does and then pulls that shit. W0lfie says she does and then pulls the shit like letting her room get ULTRA cold- which guess what happens when she opens her door for the day? You guessed it. The temp of the house goes down and the heat/furnace churns and chugs to make up for it.

I'm so FUCKING DONE.. but guess what? I CAN'T be. I'm not even supposed to be pissed about this stuff!! I'm the bad guy!! Because I'm mad!! Because I can't just let it go or deal with it quietly. Or not be a bother.

GOD DAMN IT I AM SO SICK OF BEING/GOING QUIETLY

I HAVE BEEN QUIET AND CALM AND SWEET AND WORKED MY ASS OFF IN THE WAYS I CAN FOR SO FUCKING LONG

I AM THE REASON THEY HAVE THE SHIT THEY DO!! THE ROOF OVER THEIR HEADS, TEVIE'S CAR, LOWER BILLS (not just because I pay my part, but because I literally put in all the work to make sure stuff is taken care of and that I don't use excess/as much as I want or need sometimes), PAID BILLS (EVERYTHING comes out of my account. I've asked Tevie to do it. Several times. To set it up or to even just pay it once or twice... Has she ever? No. Not even when I showed her how and offered to write it all down for the future- and still she comes back at me like 'well you put them in your name' like, bitch... The water bill HAD to be in my name because at the time they only set it up in person!! Doesn't mean you can't pay it!! All the information is RIGHT THERE!!! You have my permission!!! In fact I've ASKED you to!! And the internet- we switched it to my name so it would lower AND give us a better speed!! And autopay gives us a discount anyway- Something YOU approved of!! And GUESS WHAT? The power ISN'T in my name!! It's in yours!!! Why on EARTH do you still expect me to pay it every single time?! It's not even on autopay!!! And the car insurance.. well SORRY if you have a wreck on your record that would make the premium double or triple what it is now!!! I did that for you!! I even called and asked and compared and did EVERYTHING FOR YOU YOU WOULDN'T/COULDN'T!!! And the cellphones are in my name because years ago when we GOT the plan you didn't have a credit score which was REQUIRED... Guess who did?! ME!! So guess who did all that and set up autopay so we wouldn't get charged $20 more a month?! It's not like we COULDN'T change these things, YOU just DON'T want to deal with it OR you want those discounts and agreed to it in the first place- so your 'well they're all you're responsibility Because they're in your name' is BULLSHIT), EXTRA MONEY EVERY MONTH, EVEN TEVIE'S BANK ACCOUNT, EVERY DOCTOR/DENTIST/SPECIALIST SHE HAS EVER SEEN AFTER OUR MOTHER WAS KICKED TO THE CURB... Even W0lfie is not exempt... Because what I don't do for her, she goes to her mom to take care of. And she's told me things and I've had to ask why she hasn't taken care of it. Well. She either doesn't know how (and in some instances refused to learn cuz it happens again), or was just going to suffer through it because she assumed that was what was right (without asking anyone or even GOOGLING the information)... Gods... Half my 'knowledge' comes from google and checking at least two or three sights and sources before I act... I feel like I'm the only one in my house who has that skill despite the top-notch cellphones and computers and shit laying around everywhere. Despite my little sister literally building her computer... Can't adult life at ALL...

And I just... I just...

I'm so mad and upset.

I want to have the carefree lives they have some days... But then I realize someone wild have to be doing all the shit I do for them for me... And then I get depressed Because literally no one would or will. Even Lon didn't... He took care of his bills sure... But everything else? Well.. unless I asked him to step up, he never would.. and he to never would more than the day I asked. Another red flag I shouldn't have let slide...

No matter how sick I get. No matter how crazy I go... It's still all up to me. I don't have people I can go to to ask to do these things and know they will... I have tos er Everything up and do all the work or it never happens. Especially not more than once.

I hate nagging... And I'm just the bad guy if I try anyway.

Idk what the point even is anymore. I hate my life.

I want so badly to love it and be happy to be around... But I just want to disappear and see what happens when that happens. Would they step up? I mean they'd HAVE to and then I'd be the bad guy again... But ugh...

None of this is easy. None of this is easy especially when all alone.

Few people reach out to me... The ones that do are just as overburdened as I am and can barely talk too because they're so busy... But we try...

I appreciate every one of them/you and I feel awful I'm so drained I can barely say thank you or reply.

I know what it's like... I do... Maybe I don't 100% know the specifics of the reasons behind what you're feeling, but I can feel it with you.

I'm trying. I'm angry. I'm tired... But I'm trying my best.

#personal #random #ignore me #life in general #negative #home stuff #venting

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lihikainanea · 5 years

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23! 23 from the Xmas promts! “Aren’t you afraid of setting the house on fire with all the lights?” 😭😂😭😂

**Happy Christmas, friends! I’m doing the 25 days of Christmas with Bill and tiger, so go on and send me a prompt from the list, or any list, or make up your own–to read about all the troubles these two morons can find themselves in during the holiday season

Day 1/ Day 2/ Day 3

23. Aren’t you afraid of setting the house on fire with all the lights?

It had taken forever to warm the place up, most of the afternoon in fact, but the setting was unbelievably perfect. Nestled further into the Swedish archipelago than you had ever been, the old log cabin was every bit the perfect backdrop for the holiday season—quiet, cozy, serene. It belonged to Bill’s great grandfather once upon a time, and he thought some quiet time away from the circus that was his family would do the both of you some good.

You were tired leading up to the holidays, work had gotten crazy with the close out of the year before it had gotten quiet and in the time leading up to your Christmas vacation you had pulled long days, late nights, and barely any break between. And on the first day you had to relax, Bill had whisked you off to his motherland with his entire family and the two of you had barely gotten a few minutes of quiet solitude since you arrived.

Some time out from your time out was needed, he thought, so with instructions to pack a weekend bag, he loaded you onto a ferry.

The house was beautiful, the town sparse and blanketed in the quiet cover of snow. It was perfect. He had gotten the fire started when you arrived, lit up the other wood stoves while the electricity kicked in, then he had gone off to get some dry firewood from the shed and to pick up a few groceries from the only store in town.

“So how do you summon the dogs for your sled, anyway?” You joked as you followed him out to the front porch. He rolled his eyes, kissing your nose affectionately.

“That’s ridiculous, nobody here takes dog sleds,” he chastised, “…there’s a ski-doo in back.”

You laughed, but he wasn’t kidding.

You kept moving while he was gone, if only to keep warm. The cabin was beautiful but lacked a few Christmas touches, ones that you had taken with you for this very purpose. Making your way around you hung a few baubles, some of his favourite mistletoe, and then you strung fairy lights from anywhere you could reach. It was almost perpetually dark in his home town around this time of year, and the lights illuminated a soft glow that was both romantic and soothing. You hung them everywhere—around the door frames, scattered around the wood table, over the mantel in the living room.You looped them through the headboard in the bedroom, weaved them around the staircase, and when you were done the entire house held a calming glow.

Satisfied, you rummaged through your bag for another surprise. It was daring, a little out of character for you, but you had wanted to do something a bit special for him. He had been so supportive these past few weeks, letting you work as much as you needed to and always being on standby with a cup of tea, some food, a warm hug when you needed it.

You pulled the lacy number out from the bottom of your clothes and held it up. It was…festive, to say the least, however little material there was to it. Tiny triangles of red velvet held together with white fuzzy strings, a few silver sequins just for added pizazz, you gulped as you brought it with you into the bedroom—stopping at the liquor cart in the living room for a swig of liquid courage.

It took some shimmying, some careful maneouvering and hopping before all of your bits had made it into the lingerie set. You were just finishing setting the Santa hat on your head when you heard the front door open.

“I’m back, kid,” you heard him call out, “Are you hungry?”

“No, but can you come give me a hand with something up here?” You called back. You heard him shake off his coat, whack his head lightly on a low doorframe before his footsteps creaked up the stairs.

“The lights are a nice touch,” he said as he made his way to you, “But there’s a lot. Maybe we should—“

His sentence died on his lips as he appeared in the doorway, his eyes landing on you. You smiled, placing your hand on your cocked hip.

“Merry Christmas,” you purred.

He stood completely still, his eyes wide as saucers as he drank you up.

“Bill?” You tried again, starting to feel the embarrassment creep up your chest. He still didn’t move except for his bottom lip being dragged in by his teeth, his eyes moving up and down your form.

“Please say something, bud,” you shifted nervously on your feet, a wave of self-consciousness crashing into you as you crossed your arms over your front. It seemed to jar him from his trance as his eyes snapped to yours.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled, taking a slow step towards you, “You could kill a man, tiger. You know that?”

You smiled shyly as he advanced on you.

“You like?” You asked, but the dangerous look in his eye was all the confirmation you needed. He stopped in front of you, running his hands down your front and coming to rest lightly on your hips.

“Twirl for me,” he commanded, “Make it slow.”

You obeyed, turning slowly as his hands palmed over your ass before coming to a stop facing him again.

“My god, kid,” he sighed, and then he was on you. Hands grabbed at your thighs and lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you looped your arms around his neck. He laid you out on the bed underneath him, his lips sucking on your neck as he ran his palm down your front, cupping you gently between your legs.

“This present is almost too pretty to unwrap,” he purred and you moaned, tilting your hips to grind more into his palm.

You hooked a leg over his waist, flipping him over onto his back as you straddled his waist. Running a hand into his hair, you gripped it and tilted his head back for a searing kiss. He moaned into it, but before he could close his eyes, something caught in his vision.

The Christmas lights. Hanging in strings, everywhere. Across a very, very old wooden house.

You nipped at his lip and he sighed, raising up so you could take his shirt off before you peppered kisses along his jaw. He drew in a sharp breath when your hand squeezed the bulge in his pants, but the worry started to creep into his mind. He shook his head lightly, trying to focus on you—you, in the most incredible lingerie set he had ever seen; you who had never worn something like this for him before but now here you were dolled up, ready to ravish him.

He wanted to focus. And as you laid another searing kiss on his lips, circling your hips down hard onto his, he really tried to focus on you. On how good you were making him feel.

But it was futile and you caught on quickly enough when his lips stopped moving during the kiss, when you opened your eyes and saw his peering up at something above you. You broke apart from him.

“Alright, what gives?” You asked, and he bit his lip.

“It’s nothing. It’s fine kid, come back here,” he reached for you but you moved out of his grasp.

“Oh god, it’s…this, isn’t it?” You gestured down to the scraps of clothing, “God I knew this was a bad idea. I just wanted to try something new—”

“Kid, it’s not—” he tried to interrupt, but you were rambling.

“And I thought you’d like this but it was a stupid idea, so stupid, I feel like an idiot and—”

He cut you off by grabbing you, hauling you back onto his lap and kissing you firmly.

“It’s not this,” he tugged at a fuzzy string, “This is fucking incredible.”

“What is it, then?” You mumbled lowly, avoiding his eyes. He ducked his head for another kiss.

“These are just….there are a lot of…” he stammered, “Aren’t you afraid of setting the house on fire with all these lights?”

You paused, pulling away from him slightly with a look of total bewilderment on your face.

“No,” you said slowly, “Are…you?”

He bit his lip, and you pulled back from him more.

“It’s just a really old house, that’s all,” he shrugged.

“How fucking old is this house that a few strings of Christmas lights run a fire hazard, Bill?”

He contemplated a moment, nodding to himself as he pulled you closer.

“You’re right, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said. He laid back down, pulling you back on top of him as you giggled. You kissed along his neck, nipping at his Adam’s apple before making your way down his chest. You licked at his skin, sucking softly as your lips descended.

“Actually yeah,” he said, and then you were being moved gently off of him as he clambered upright, “Let’s just go ahead and unplug all of these.”

“Bill.”

“Safety first, kid,” he said as he quickly unplugged the few sets int he room before making his way down the hallway, “Don’t you dare move, I’m coming back to finish this.”

You huffed, flopping back onto the pillows as you heard his low cuss when he whacked his head on another low doorframe.

#christmas #bill skarsgard #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard drabble

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minsugapie · 4 years

Text

The Eve: part 2 (2032 words) - Tom was right

• • • • • •

Lumi is down on her luck. After graduating university with a business degree, she has yet to secure a career in that path, reluctantly working and living at an old motel instead.

Kim Jongin is on the run. He’s been framed for embezzlement, and someone faked his death while he was out of town. With only a handful of bills and a false identity, he had been only able to survive for so long until breaking down in front of an old motel, hoping that whoever found him wouldn’t report him to the authorities.

• • • • • •

prev // current // next

masterlist

• • • • • •

YAY! the day has finally arrived then i feel like writing again! i honestly don’t even know what got over me, but i hope this feeling sticks around bc it’s wonderful. Anyways, please enjoy...

• • • • • •

Before heading out to do the laundry, Lumi knew she should at least clean up some of the cuts on his skin. Jongin’s face held less harsh lines, even though his fists were holding the blankets up to his neck to keep himself warm. She should have realized that her leaving the covers would have taken away some of the heat that he’d needed. It was one thing to make him warm…the other was to make sure he stayed warm.

She felt awful as she took the blankets off of him, so she turned the heat up a little more, leaving herself in only a t-shirt. It was too hot for her, but this wasn’t about her right then. His hands didn’t want to let go of the blankets, and she only managed to listen the grip when she softly pried his fingers away from them. His body flinched initially when her fingers touched his, but what was actually surprised her was how his fingers had instantly gone from clutching the blanket to wrapping around her own. She didn’t want to let go of them, but she needed both her inexperienced hands to feign being a nurse.

Taking out the medical kit from the paper grocery bag, she assessed what needed attention then and what was fine for now. Goosebumps arose all over his chest and those when she stated cleaning a particularly nasty cut stretching across his collarbone to his pec.

“I know it stings and it’s cold,” she gently whispered, quickly putting her hand up to his forehead to check his temperature out of reflex, “but it’ll be over soon and you can go back to being warm.”

It took her a little over half an hour to successfully clean the wounds he had received from whatever fight he had gotten into, with the occasional whimper or flinch from Jongin, but she was relieved when she realized that nothing was bad enough to need legitimate medical attention.

When she finally put the covers back, she leaned over him to make sure that everything was tucked in and warm, her hair fell over her shoulder and onto his face without he realizing. She backed away, after swearing that she had seen his eye flicker open. She must have been dreaming because he was unconscious and could barely move.

Whispering to him once again as she fixed a strand of his hair that fell into his eyes, she said, “I’ll be back soon, okay? I can’t have you dying on my watch.”

• • • • • •

Lumi felt guilty leaving him there all by himself again, especially when it was her day off, but she needed to do her own laundry and clean his clothes, too. Who knew when the last time he cleaned them was?

Judging by ‘byun’ on his phone, he was down on his luck. Lumi checked to see if there were previous messages from the person, but there were none. There was also no password on the phone, nor were there any other apps besides messages and the default apps that weren’t able to be deleted.

He was a man on the run, so she guessed it made sense that he kept himself as low-key as physically possible.

She was thankful that the laundromat was empty today, save two people that were always there when she was. One of them was the worker and the other was Jamie, a man that unfortunately had the same work schedule as her. If anyone in this town was suitable for Lumi, it might have been Jamie, at least Tom thought so.

“Morning, Jamie,” Lumi smiled, taking over her usual washing machine. She began to throw the clothes into the machine when she felt his presence beside her.

“You dropped this,” he said, picking up a large men’s flannel. Lumi knew he was going to say something, so she thought of what to say before he was even able to ask it. “Why are you washing a bunch of men’s clothes?”

“Um, they’re mine,” she ended up blurting, grabbing it from his hand and stuffing it into the machine. All her clothes were thrown on top of it. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Actually, it’s the style nowadays to wear baggy men’s clothes.”

“But I’ve never seen you wear it, and it looks worn,” he pushed. She knew that Jamie didn’t mean anything by it, but she was nervous. Obviously, since she was balancing on the tight rope of the law at this point.

Byun had told Lumi to be careful and that it was dangerous, so she absolutely had to keep Jongin a secret.

“They were left behind by someone at the motel, and I was going to take them. It’s winter now, so the more layers, the better, you know?” She smiled, trying to show off the little charm she had. She did know that Jamie thought she was pretty. It seemed to work on him as he nodded his head and backed away.

“I guess that makes sense,” he concluded, going to put his own clothes into the dryer. Because she’d already done a few things this morning, she was later than usual. Actually, it was almost a blessing because he’d be out of there faster than usual, deceasing the amount of time they’d actually have to spend together.

Lumi breathed a sigh of relief before putting in her headphones and pretending that she didn’t know Jamie as she waited for the laundry to be done.

Something finally worked out in her favour because Jamie didn’t talk to her again, and she was able to finish the laundry in peace. When she was finally able to head back to the motel, she began to get nervous. What if he’d left?

But then she remembered that she left him there in his underwear, and she had all his clothes. The very thought made her smile. The situation was kind of funny. Never did she think she’d see a shirtless Jongin that close, let alone have him unknowingly trust her with his life. Yet she remembered that he might have died last night if it hadn’t been for her.

She ran to her room when it came into sight, being as quiet as she could when she closed the door. Jongin was still sleeping, so she set to work putting her clothes away and made sure to fold his for him. When she picked up a few pairs of underwear, she couldn’t help but blush. He’d worn them. The man of every one of her fantasies had worn those pairs of underwear, and here she was in the same room as him.

Her life was just beginning to get interesting.

She noticed the note was in his hand, so he must have woken up, at least for a moment. She stood up and went to him to check if he was still warm enough. She lightly touched his face with her fingers and then felt his chest to see how cold it was. He was warm, colour back in his face and lips.

All of a sudden, a hand roughly grabbed her throat, surprising her.

Jongin’s eyes shot open, and he looked at her, sitting up. Lumi was speechless, not only because his hand was choking her, but also because she’d never heard of him having an aggressive side like this.

Her brow was furrowed as she hastily grabbed and clawed at his arm to let her go. It was no use, however, because he was so much stronger than she was.

She shook her head as much as possible, pleading mentally for him to let her go. She was going to pass out any second from lack of oxygen. “I didn’t…call…the police,” she struggled so much that she wasn’t sure he was even able to understand.

When he let go, she fell to the floor, clutching at her throat. There were surely going to be bruises.

He stared at her few a few moments, probably trying to figure her out as she coughed, obviously struggling to regain her breath. He scratched his chest and then realized that there weren’t any clothes there. He pulled the blanket up to his neck and narrowed his eyes at her. He quickly looked under the blanket to check if he had on any underwear.

She coughed again, still trying to clear her throat after what he’d done to her. She slowly started shuffling backward and away from him. Never once did she think he would do something like that to someone who had saved him.

Then again, he was probably just as scared as she was in this situation. She realized too that he had been completely out of it when she brought him in. He couldn’t have known who she was.

She shook her head crazily as she tried to get her voice to work again. He couldn’t think that she took advantage of him. “I cleaned them!” She pointed at the pile of folded clothes at the end of the bed. He looked at them before looking back at her.

There was an expression of curiosity on his face as he took her in more. His stare bore into hers like nothing she’d ever felt before.

“Please, just drink some water and eat something,” she pleaded, getting a piece of bread and putting it in front of him with a banana. “I’ll explain when you’re healthy again.”

He stared at the items in front of him before picking them up and eating them hungrily. She read that it was important not to feed someone too much to begin with otherwise they could get sick.

When he was done eating, he took another full water bottle and laid back on the bed. He stared at her as she sat on the chair across the room, watching him. He was different from what she’d imagined. He was calmer and spoke a lot less. He actually seemed reserved –unlike most businessmen that she’d met.

• • • • • •

Jongin was curious about her. She hadn’t called the police on him. She washed his clothes. She even fed him. And he’d almost killed her.

He hadn’t meant to be so aggressive, but he was scared. The last thing he remembered was wandering along the highway, looking for a place to take refuge.

There was one other thing he remembered. He didn’t know if it was a memory or if it was just conjured up in his mind.

It was a woman, platinum blonde hair and pale skin, telling him to drink and again leaning over his frame. It was definitely a memory because as he thought of it now, the person that had pleaded with him to get better was the woman sitting in the chair across the room from him.

She looked and acted like an angel, and he nearly killed her, most likely bruising the pale skin of her throat. She was a literal saviour.

But why would she want to save him? It might have been better for everyone if he had he simply died.

• • • • • •

When Jongin finally fell asleep again, Lumi went to the bathroom to look at her reflection. She was right, her neck was bruising. There were purple fingerprints on her skin, reminding her of how stupid this situation was. Tom was right.

How could she have just trusted him? He really could have killed those people and embezzled all that money. She had no idea who he really was.

Taking a deep breath, she vowed that she would learn his side of the story.

As she continued to stare at the bruises on her neck, her mind wandered back to the text messages. Byun had said that he was sure it was a guy named D.O. Could they have been talking about the crimes? It couldn’t have been anything else; it was too much of a coincidence.

Throwing on a scarf to cover her neck, she locked the door once again and made her way to the diner to have some dinner. She’d have to bring a lot of leftovers home, so it wouldn’t be just salad for her tonight.

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littledraga · 4 years

Text

A Little Luck and a Little Smile

@amuseoffirebane Sorry it wasn’t as much as a surprise as I had hoped! I really hope you like it!

At least it wasn’t hot out. Not that the heat bothered Taps much, but he would worry about Riker. That, and he’d probably complain the whole walk back. Not that Taps would say anything. But it was nice, just getting to walk peacefully with him while they made their way back to the apartment with groceries.

It saved on gas and it gave them some time to just be together, with all the work Riker had been doing. Taps didn’t mind, really. It was fine that Riker was spending most of his waking hours working between a couple shops in the city. One was even talking about hiring him on properly. It was the most money they’d made in a while, and the more he worked the less time he had to drink. But he wouldn’t say anything. He would just be happy things were working out so well.

Walking down the sidewalk Taps noticed a wallet stuffed between a gutter and a building. “Hey, looks like someone lost their wallet.” Without a thought, he knelt down and scooped it up to look it over. It was old, or maybe just that weather-worn. The leather was blotchy and heavily frayed in the corners. Its seams were held together with little more than force of will.

Riker glanced over and smirked. “Well lookie there,” he laughed. “Open it up, maybe there’s some cash in there still!”

“Riker! This belongs to someone, we should use the address to return it,” scolded Taps as he flipped the wallet open to do just that. Only, there was no ID. There weren’t any cards inside at all. Not even a scrap, a note, nothing with a name. Maybe it was just a bit of litter?

Hesitant, Taps open the main pocket of the wallet, expecting the same as the rest. Instead, it was full. There was a wad of cash neatly stuffed inside. That didn’t seem right.

Looking over Riker whistled. “How about that! How much do ya think it is?” He tried to count and guess, but Taps quickly snapped the wallet closed and looked over at him.

“Riker! We can’t, it’s not ours. We have to turn this in.” Someone had to be looking for it, had to be.

With a sigh, Riker slumped his shoulders and gave in. “Fine fine. But can we stop back at the apartment first?” He lifted the bags up a little. “They’re starting to get a little heavy.”

“Ah, right!” Laughing a little Taps slipped the wallet into his back pocket and made his way back to their little apartment with his boyfriend. The whole way he could feel the wallet like a weight burning in his pocket.

While they were packing everything away into the fridge and cupboards Riker snagged the wallet from Taps’ back pocket.

“Riker, it’s not ours!”

Pulling out the money he quickly thumbed through it to count and his eyes went wide. “Taps. This is almost three hundred dollars.”

“Three hundred of someone else’s money. We need to turn it in to the police.” Shutting the cupboard as he spoke he gave Riker a stern look. It was the right thing to do. It wasn’t theirs to keep.

Ricker put the money back in the wallet and gently wagged it at Taps. Who quickly snatched it back and shoved it in his pocket again. Neither of them were going to back down yet.

“So it’ll sit in a box until one of them decides to buy lunch with it?”

“It’s the right thing to do and you know it.”

“Whoever owned this probably ain’t gonna be looking at the station without an ID in it. Not like there’s a way to prove it’s theirs.”

“They might. Besides after a month, we’d get it if they didn’t.” Taps leaned against the counter while he watched Riker roll his eyes.

“If it’s not ‘lost’,” he scoffed, using air quotes. “They probably won’t even record it, just pocket the money and toss the wallet.”

“And we’re not out anything either way,” reminded Tap with a slight tilt of the mouth.

“But we could be a little better off.” Riker smiled when Taps crossed his arms over his chest. “Whoever dropped this ain’t any worse off than before we found it.”

If he could, Taps would have frowned. His face showed it plenty as he sighed and tilted his head. Lifting his shoulders he thought about that. Riker had a point. A good one.

Three hundred could go pretty fair for them. It could help make sure they stayed up on bills. Riker could eat better instead of mostly ramen and rice. It would make a nice cushion on his repairs, they might not have to put it off next time. Or when Riker got too drunk to stop.

It might not have been a lot of money in the grand scheme of things, but it could make a difference for them.

Taps’ shoulders slumped and he looked back at Riker who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Sighing, he pressed his face into his hand. “Alright, alright. You win, but you have to promise to spend it smartly.”

That only made Riker grin more, not that Taps was sure that was possible. “Already know the first thing to do with it. Go put your shoes back on.”

“Wait, right now?” Taps rushed to at least put the cold things away, not that there was much.

“Yeah, before you change your mind,” he teased, already throwing his on, groceries forgotten. “Let’s get to the van.” Riker grabbed Taps’ arm and dragged him out of the apartment, stumbling and trying to get his shoes on.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Taps finally asked as they got down to where the van was parked. Luckily, no one had noticed they were illegally parked. Or at least no one had turned them in for it, yet.

“The mall.”

Taps stood up straight and froze. “What?” He just misheard him, right? “Why do you want to go to the mall?”

With a shrug, Riker put a hand in his pocket while the other reached out expectantly. “To get you some new clothes.”

That made Taps fluster and he hid his face before he handed off the wallet with his other hand. He looked over his fingers when he felt Riker take the money. “No way! The mall is way too expensive for us. Besides, between the two of us, shouldn’t you be getting new clothes first?” He waved his hand to gesture to the grease stains over his attire.

Looking over his stained clothes Riker just shrugged. “Grease is a part of my look.” He popped his collar and gave Taps the finger guns. When Taps laughed he sighed with a goofy grin on his face.

“At least let’s go to a second-hand shop or something. They’re cheaper. We don’t need to waste so much money there,” tried Taps. He’d feel awful if most of that was spent on him. They should be saving it!

“New clothes will last longer. Besides, we can find you some nice clothes, not just whatever fits.” Stuffing the money into his own wallet Riker tossed the worn-out one into a trash bin, or at least, at one, before he walked around the vehicle to get in.

Hovering by the passenger door Taps hesitated. Was this really okay? As much as the idea of shopping for new clothes was exciting, he knew there were better uses for that money. He should tell Riker no. He should put his foot down and tell him they were going to save that money for a rainy day!

While Taps was gearing up to tell him off, Riker leaned over and popped open the door. “Come on, before you run out of air,” he teased with a cheeky grin.

“Okay, rude,” huffed Taps. All the same, he hoped in the car and settled in as Riker drove off.

The ride was quiet a while, just listening to the radio and the bump of the road.

After a while, it started to bother Taps again. “Is it really okay?” He asked, turning to look at Riker while he turned onto a busy road.

“Sure it is. We covered this, whoever owned the wallet wouldn’t get their money back anyway.” Riker kept his eyes on the road, but gently tilted his head toward Taps. “This way we know something good comes out of it, right?” He grinned.

“But aren’t there better things? We could get ahead. Or save up.”

At a red light, Riker looked over properly and gave Taps a soft warm smile. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a lucky find than on making you happy.” That smile widened when he saw Taps get embarrassed again. Too bad some asshole honked to tell him about the green light before Taps could scold him. Flipping them off he started driving again. They were almost there.

Off to the side of the main entrance, Riker put the van in park. Easier to find it later. As if someone could miss something that big, but Riker swore it could happen.

Once inside Taps grabbed Riker’s hand while they looked at all the stores inside. He was certainly not at a loss for choice. It was a little overwhelming, but Riker smiled and squeezed his hand. Once, twice, and a third time. Taps’ shoulders relaxed.

“We got a little while. We can walk around until you find what you like. And I mean it. Look for stuff you like, not just something cheap.”

Looking at a section of clearance stuff out in a corridor Taps sighed, but grinned a little. He supposed that wasn’t quite as sneaky as he had hoped it would be. But if it was there, he’d look anyway. If Riker hadn’t dragged him off.

“That’s the junk nobody wanted, come on. We can find something better than that. Make you a real looker,” he playfully laughed.

Partially closing his eyes, his mouth tilted just a little. “Are you saying I’m not a looker now?” Tap tried his best to look put off and laid a hand across his chest in mock offense.

Riker’s cheeks turned pink and he sputtered. “Ah, don’t you get started with that.” He pointedly looked ahead while Taps chuckled. And he absolutely didn’t hear him say he was being adorable. His ears turning pink was just a coincidence.

The first store they tried was a Men’s Wearhouse. They weren’t in there long. Everything was far too dressed up for regular wear and nowhere good enough for dancing in for shows, as Riker had loudly claimed as they were followed around and out of the store with a protective arm around Taps’ shoulders.

They didn’t have a chance to dwell on it long before Taps got distracted. A shop window was covered in graphic tees, and one had Optimus Prime standing tall with his hands on his hips.

Looking over Taps’ shoulder Riker grinned widely. “Look at that! I should be jealous,” he teased. “Should we get that one? Might encourage me to go to the gym.”

Before Taps could defend himself Riker had already hooked his arm around his and he stumbled inside. He was at the tee wall before they noticed what kind of store they were in. There was a whole wall to look over, mostly from bands he didn’t know, before he noticed how dark it was inside. Stepping back Taps looked around the store. There were stickers everywhere and almost everything had spikes or studs on it. Taps didn’t think this was his kind of store.

Riker, however, seemed to be more amused than anything as he walked around and looked at the chain and strap covered pants. Grinning he held up a black and blue pair. “Whaddya think?” When Taps crossed his arms he laughed. Shaking the Tripp pants so the chains clinked he tried again. “Come on they’ll jingle when you dance, it's like another instrument.”

An embarrassed Taps grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the store. There was hardly enough time to put the pants back before he was shuffling sideways, still laughing. “Aw, come on! It was funny.”

Taps just sighed and shook his head. “We need to look at what’s in these stores before we go running in and wasting their time.”

“Ah, beats just standing around waiting for people, right? Probably the funniest thing they’ve seen in weeks.”

Taps didn’t look amused and just kept dragging him down the corridor and away from the store. They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, one of Taps’ arms still wrapped around one of Riker’s as they glanced through at the different shops.

“Hey, this one doesn’t look so bad. Let’s see if you like anything.” Riker gently tugged on Taps’ arm to show him a little shop that looked like an outlet store. A nice in between from the last two they walked through.

Looking it over Taps tilted his head. With a small nod, he walked in with Riker, finally letting go of his arm to start looking around.

It was a lot bigger once they got inside and Taps felt a little overwhelmed again. There was a lot more than just the section they saw from the common way. It branched off into whole other rooms.

Riker took his hand with a cheeky grin and guided him over to a set of racks. “Clothes aren’t gonna just jump in your hands. We gotta look first,” he teased as he started looking through the first one.

“Hey, what about this?” Riker held up a white shirt with bright neon print ‘What’. When Taps just narrowed his eyes he shrugged and put it back.

Riker tried again with a pink and orange Hawaiian shirt.

“No,” said Taps simply, and Riker pouted. Was he being serious? He shook his head as he kept looking for something he liked. There were a lot of nice clothes here, but he wasn’t going to be selfish so only a couple things.

The first thing he found that he really liked was a dark blue satin shirt. Taking it off the rack he looked it over and checked the shoulders. It would probably fit well. Looking over the tag his eyes went wide. That was too much when they could get him a shirt for a couple dollars at a thrift shop. Before he could put it back Riker’s hand was over his, covering the price tag.

“Don’t look at that. Just make sure it’s something you like. That’s all that matters right now, okay?” He waited for Taps to nod before going to look at clothes for him again. Another loud Hawaiian shirt. Did he have a thing for Hawaiian shirts?

Some time, and many gaudy shirts later, seriously Taps was worried Riker wasn’t joking anymore, they made their way over to the fitting rooms so Taps could try them on. Not that either of them would say it out loud, but they were grateful it was unmanned.

Taps shifts from foot to foot a moment before Riker is pushing him into a room to try on the clothes.

“Go on. Try them on and we can go home, okay?” He encouraged and shut the door behind Taps so he could change. Luckily this place had comfortable chairs to sit in while he waited.

Tap took his time as he looked this way and that in the mirrors. Dark wash jeans and a light red button down shirt. Tucking it in looked too formal so he pulled it out and tried again. He tried again with some buttons undone. His shoulders slumped and he gave up. It wasn’t’ that he had disliked it. But he wasn’t sure if it was right either. He opened the door and stepped out to show Riker and get a second opinion.

When Taps stepped out Riker wolf-whistled at him and grinned widely. “It looks good on ya, Taps. Didn’t take ya for a half open shirt kinda guy, though.��

With a long whine, Taps covered his face in embarrassment. “You stop that! I was trying to figure out how it looked best.”

Riker just kept grinning at Taps. “It looks good. There’ still more though ain’t there?”

Taps’ mouth tilted again as he finally put his hands down again and watched Riker affectionately before he nodded and headed back to change. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

This time he had light wash jeans and a grey shirt that said ‘I Never Liked You Anyway’, written in red across the chest.

When Taps stepped out Riker put both hands on his chest. “Ouch, really, Taps? Couldn’t you have let me down a little gentler?”

Taps just rolled his eyes at that before stepping back inside. This time only the shirt changed. A pink shirt with a little water spout tap dancing with a hat and cane.

Riker laughed when he saw it. “Oh, you would! Wouldn’t you? You have to get that one, no matter what.”

Taps laughed and beamed at that, he was rather proud of that one. The next outfit took him a little longer to perfect. The dark blue shirt he had picked up first hung open with a white shirt underneath with a pair of black jeans. Fussing with the collar a moment he stepped out to show Riker.

He may have been broken. Riker sat there with a blank face and his mouth hung open slightly.

That made Taps a little worried and he fidgeted with the shirt again. “That bad, huh? Guess they can’t all be winners.” He grabbed the door behind him to go and change back into his normal clothes.

“Wait no, no. It looks good Taps. It looks really good. Definitely get that one,” hurried Riker as he sat up more in the chair

Taps tilted his head and he chuckled softly when it clicked “Alright. I’ll get this one.” He opened the door and looked at himself in the mirror again. He adjusted the collar again and tugged on the sides. This one he knew was expensive. “Is this really okay? I mean, there’s better ways to spend the money.”

Riker clicked his tongue and stood up from the cushioned seat to stand behind Taps. Wrapping his arms around him he stood on his toes a little to prop his head on Taps’ shoulder. “I can’t think of a better one. You deserve to have nice things, Taps. Like really nice things. It’s not a lot, but these are gonna be yours. Not hand me downs or something cheap we had to snag from a thrift store. Stuff you picked because you like it and you like how you look in it.”

Taps was quiet as he shut his eyes as his mouth tilted softly. Despite everything, this was why he was with Riker. He laid his hands over Riker’s and leaned his head gently against his for a moment.

“Look at you being so soft.”

“Only for you.” They both laughed at that. For a long moment, they were quiet.

Eventually, Taps murmured, “if there’s enough left, can we go look at some beanies?”

Riker’s face split into a wide grin and he nodded before he finally let Taps go. “Sounds good. Go on and get changed and we’ll find some.”

Taps never thought he could make someone happy just by being happy but, it was nice to see Riker smile like that. And maybe it wasn’t being too selfish if seeing that smile was better than the clothes.

#taps bettencourt #riker venczel #This is so way mushier than I planned #But Taps needed to get new clothes!#He needs all the happiness #And damnit Imma try and give it to him!

8 notes · View notes

rheyninwrites · 4 years

Text

Old Friends Part 12

By the time the evening arrived, we’d put everything away. All my paintings were on walls around the house, and I had to admit it made me feel much more at home. I think Arthur really enjoyed it, too. We had gone to get some groceries earlier that afternoon, so there would be enough food for me to eat during the day. Working at a school, I had summers off, so I would be at home while he worked. He made a comment on this while we were making dinner together.

“What exactly do you do all day, anyway?”

“I don’t do anything special, mostly just try to keep up with things that need to be done, play video games or watch movies. A lot of the time I paint, but I forgot to grab the supplies I had. It’s fine, though, they were mostly pretty old, and I could use some new stuff. I’ll probably run out and get some this weekend.”

“Huh. Okay.”

“What, you think I should be doing something more productive with my time? I still get paid during the summer, they spread it out through the year, but I guess I could get a job for the next couple of months, if it’ll help more with bills around here.”

“That ain’t what I was saying at all. I just find it interesting. And I already told you, I don’t expect you to help out. I’d have the same bills even if you wasn’t here.”

“Well, you wouldn’t exactly, because I’ll be using electricity while you’re at work, and you have to buy more food. And I’ve told you that I appreciate the thought, but I’ll feel guilty if I don’t contribute something, at least. Please don’t turn this into another bed situation.”

“Alright, alright, you win. But you’re only gonna contribute towards the bills you raise. Just as stubborn as ever, I see.”

“Of course, and you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He laughed.

“Damn right, woman.”

After he went to work the next morning, I set about busying myself all day. I got the Xbox set up, then walked around the house looking for little things I could take care of, like emptying the trash cans or cleaning the bathrooms. It was maddening. There was almost nothing to clean up! He kept the place so spotless that by 10am, I had resigned myself to a day of movie watching. I made a note to pick up some books and a few fresh movies when I picked up more art supplies, and plopped on the couch.

I woke up to the sound of the key in the lock, then Arthur calling my name.

“Can you come help me get this stuff in?”

I slipped on my shoes and hurried to where he was outside, standing with Boadicea’s passenger door open. He had his eyes cast downward and a sheepish grin on his face. He also had a shit ton of art supplies in the seat next to him.

I let out a gasp and started rummaging through the bags as fast as I could. There were acrylics, watercolors, pencils, pens, markers, and all manner of sketchbooks. He’d also bought several canvases, an entire bag of brushes, and an easel.

“I didn’t really know what you liked to work with now, so I got a few different things. That okay?”

I nodded, then spun around to face him and threw my arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug.

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much. But you know you didn’t have to? I could have done it myself.”

“I know. I wanted to. Just wanted to see you smile, I guess.”

When he said that, looking right into my eyes as he did, I think I momentarily lost control of my body. I must have, because that’s the only thing that could explain why I did what I did next.

I reached up, put a hand on each side of his face, pulled him down to me, and I kissed him. Right, square on the lips.

What the hell am I doing!?!?

Why is he not running away?

He wasn’t running away, not at all. For a moment he didn’t do anything, just stayed planted, frozen, like I was some kind of Medusa. Then I felt him turn his head, just slightly, and wrap his arms around my waist. He was pulling me closer, not trying to push me away.

What’s happening here?

I tried to keep my thought at bay, to not give into my insecurities and just enjoy the kiss. But when you have scars so deep, you don’t usually get to just enjoy things. Those thoughts have a way of busting through any wall you build.

Geez. He’s so desperate for affection, he’s even willing to kiss you.

You know he doesn’t really want you, right?

A fat girl like you with a handsome guy like him? Oh PLEASE!

It’s never gonna happen honey, just accept it.

It’s a pipe dream.

He can do so much better.

You’re just friends.

He probably didn’t want to offend you.

YOU’RE

JUST

TOO

UGLY

The words echoing in my head were too much to take. I let go of him, then bolted into the house. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see how he felt. I knew I had ruined things no matter what. Either I had ruined our friendship by kissing him, or I had ruined the chance for more by running away. Instead of waiting around to find out what nasty words he might have for me, I went straight into the main bathroom, and locked the door. Then I sat down in the tub, pulled the shower curtain, and started to sob.

I heard him coming inside, bumping against the walls as he struggled to bring it all in. I know he had to make more than one trip, because I heard the door open and close at least one more time, and that made me feel even more guilty than I already did. I was afraid he was going to try to talk to me, and I was afraid he wouldn’t. Trauma does funny things to your brain, especially when it happens to you as a kid.

I heard his footsteps back and forth in the living room for a while, then nothing. My sobs reduced to hiccups, the finally a few silent tears before I was all cried out. Shortly after that I heard a gentle knock. He waited and I said nothing. I didn’t know what I could possibly say. Soon he tried again.

“Can I come in?”

No.

“You know you can’t stay in there forever.”

Wanna bet?

“If you don’t open up soon, I’m gonna just take the door off.”

I considered that for a minute.

You bastard, you would, wouldn’t you?

So my options were to stay in and attempt to starve myself and probably have the door removed on me, or open up. Eventually, it still meant facing the problem.

Dammit.

I reached as far as I could out of my tub fortress and unlocked the door, slipping back inside as quickly as I could. He waited a few beats before opening the door, then crossed the room and sat on the toilet beside the tub. He didn’t try to open the curtain, which I was very grateful for.

“Hey look, it’s okay. Well, I mean, it ain’t okay, but it’s gonna be.”

I could hear him shifting around beside the curtain for a bit before continuing.

“What happened was . . . I don’t know what it was. I don’t know if it was you, or me, or maybe even some outside force. But it happened, and we can’t change that. All we can do is move forward.”

I still didn’t say anything. I still didn’t know what I could say.

“All I know is that Ive been happier this week than I’ve been in years, and I don’t wanna lose you from my life again. It’s not worth all that. So I promise I won’t hold it against you, if you don’t hold it against me. Okay?”

“You hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you. I don’t reckon I ever could hate you. There ain’t many people who seen me at my best and my worst and stuck around through both.”

That got me, right in the heart. I knew exactly what he meant, because I felt the same way about him. My throat felt tight, and I swallowed hard. Slowly, I peeked out from behind the shower curtain.

“Promise?”

“Of course I promise. Now are you gonna get out of that tub, or you gonna make me climb in with you?”

“If you did that we’d be stuck here for the rest of our lives.”

“Then I’m guessing you better get out.”

I roughly pushed back the curtain and took his outstretched hand. I knew I had been ridiculous and dramatic, but sometimes that side gets the best of a person, even when they don’t want it to. Especially when you’ve just kissed your former best friend who you haven’t been around much in the last decade or so, but are hopelessly in love with, and just moved in with.

We left the bathroom and ate dinner, making the kind of small talk we both usually hated in order to cover the awkwardness. Afterwards, I helped him build my new easel and he helped me put away my art supplies in an old cabinet he dragged into a corner of the living room. Then, exhausted, we showered and fell into bed.

That night after he gave my hand it’s usual good night squeeze, he didn’t let go.

#rdr2 fanfic #modern arthur morgan #arthurmorgan #arthur morgan fanfic #rdr arthur #rdr 2 #modern rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan fic

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flannelpunkcalum · 5 years

Text

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7

oh my god you guys we’re so close to shit finally going down it’s gonna rock your fucking worlds and I cannot WAIT for you to undergo it it’s gonna be so much fun. also i know jack shit about charity galas so like... watch out for that. or botanical gardens, for that matter. anyway enjoy! pls tell me what you think this is my baby

Calum invites Aspen to a gala and it’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to her.

Well, technically it’s a fundraiser for the Gotham City Children’s Organization. Also, she’s gonna be more of an employee, strictly speaking, than a guest. And Mr. Hood really only asked her to work there this Friday evening, she’s not, like, his date or anything. He kinda sprang this whole thing on her. To be completely honest, too, it’s probably only the most exciting thing to happen to her in, like, two months, because she’s cool, goddamnit.

Anyway, Aspen is going to be working overtime this Friday evening and she couldn’t be happier.

She’s been wound up about this since he told her Tuesday. She’s gonna dress up all nice, she’s gonna rub elbows with the Gotham elite, she’s gonna unhinge her jaw like a python and eat an entire tray of canapés - it’ll be good for her.

They’ve all been stressed.

For her, it’s just that it hasn’t been long since the Liam fiasco. That was rough. And for his part, Calum looks more and more worn down. The tabloids in the grocery store checkout line told her he’s not seeing that nurse or reporter or whoever it was anymore. He’s been stiff lately, with bags under his eyes despite whatever million-dollar face cream he’s doubtlessly using. If she wasn’t being very disciplined about their relationship she’d tease him to switch away from decaf. Maybe he’s sick, she thinks. Could be the flu. Compromised immune system and whatnot.

He’s under a lot of stress, now, after the murder.

Trident Incorporated was next, in the string of CEO attacks, and it was so much worse, this time around. The police found the Barton Mathis’ body shot in the head with hundred dollar bills stuffed in his mouth. Aspen knows because she made sure Mr. Hood got to the funeral on time.

It’s… worrying. Worrying because her pattern holds; they’d been just about to sign a big contract with Trident when the man was killed. She knows it’s crazy, Calum wouldn’t kill someone. No matter how cold he may come off. She hopes so, anyways. Sometimes his mood changes like that, and even if he didn’t pull the trigger, this is Gotham. There are any number of people who would do it for the right price. It’s the money down the victim’s throat, of all things, that makes her change her mind. She’s seen his car - money certainly doesn’t disgust him.

So Calum isn’t the killer, probably. But that still scares her.

Because he’s probably next.

He doesn’t get a bodyguard. He doesn’t amp up security, he doesn’t tell Aspen about a panic room or anything. It’s like he hasn’t fucking realized the danger he’s in. Aspen knows it’s not her job to stress about that, but that doesn’t mean that creeping horror hasn’t settled into her ribs. All she can do is keep her mouth shut and help him through the financial quarter ending, which is no fucking picnic either, in case you were wondering. She gets used to working late.

So, yeah, she could use a break. They all could.

Friday morning, she brings her dress with her, folded up in a plastic grocery bag. That morning, when she hands over the coffee, Alfred passes her a suit in a garment bag as soon as her hands are free. “Do try not to wrinkle it before the event, Master Calum.” He says, giving Aspen a little wink like he knows she’d never do such a thing.

Calum rolls his eyes at both of them, but he’s the closest to smiling he’s been in days.

“And you’ve got your outfit?” He ask her as they step into the elevator.

She nods and wiggles the plastic shopping bag hanging off her wrist. “Don’t worry, sir, I’m going to look very fiscally responsible.” She’s taking donations at the event, so she’s already wearing her most accountant-like cardigan, but she’s gonna class it up this evening. Her nails are painted, and they’re not chipped yet or anything.

Anyway, he smiles distinctly at that. She likes being able to do that. It’s like a magic trick. “It’s good to see you smiling again. Thought maybe you forgot how.” Aspen says, and this time she doesn’t even try to stop herself. She’s been very good for the past few weeks, and she needs a rest from acting soulless and polite. Really, she’s just being nice.

“What?” Mr. Hood turns to look at her. Maybe she’s been more serious than she thought, if he’s that surprised to hear her tease him.

“I mean, you’ve had some rough days. ‘M glad to see you looking a little more relaxed.” Aspen delicately refrains from making a joke, and just gives him a little shrug and the truth. It seems like this means a lot to him, anyway - it feels like the first time he’s looked at her and seen her in ages. That feeling comes back, the one she buried. “And, y’know, it makes my job a lot easier when you’re in a good mood. No offense. Sir.” She covers it again, hastily, and like a spell’s been broken the elevator doors open and she steps into the lobby.

“None taken,” she hears him murmur from behind her as she maneuvers herself and the bag through his office door. “You know when the car’s coming, right?”

“At three.” She slips easy into the day-to-day talk, like an old sweater. It’s welcome. She feels like she’s burning under her skin and from nothing. This is why it has to be so stiff; there’s so much she risks with too-kind words. “Guests start to arrive at four thirty, your talk is at five-thirty, and then at 8 there’s the after-gala at Note Bene.”

“You’re invited to that, too.” Aspen turns around from hanging up his garment bag. Mr. Hood is looking at her from behind his desk, adjusting his sleeves - maybe just so he has something to do with his hands. “You could come along. I didn’t know if you would want to but- you seem excited for this.”

Aspen tells herself he’s offering to be polite, which- he must be. She can’t fool herself like that. It’s the stupid chemistry, that’s all, it’s getting to her, and if she ignores it long enough it’ll go away. “Thank you, but that’s not really my scene, I think.” She smiles, shrugs. “Anything else I can help you with while I’m in here, sir?”

“No. Thank you for all you help with the event, though, Aspen. I’m glad to have someone I can trust in charge of donations.” He says. She remembers in her interview, only three weeks ago, how he had eyes that pinned her to the wall. She feels it in his gaze now, too.

She can’t linger.

“Just doing my job!” She chirps, darting out the door and closing it softly behind her.

She thought she was over this, what the fuck?

It’s not a great time for these feelings to resurface, since he’ll probably be looking real real good in his suit this afternoon. There’s isn’t really a good time to get a crush on your boss, though. Being so impersonal had been driving Aspen crazy, but the second she relaxes around that man she gets weak; maybe this time she’ll learn her lesson.

She gets to work. She’s sifting through emails when the first phone call of the day comes through, and she checks the clock - it’s not even nine yet. That’s interesting. She’s not suspicious, though, not yet.

“Hood Enterprises, how can I help you?” She asks in her very best secretary voice.

“Hello, Detective Gordon, GCPD. I need to talk to Mr. Hood.”

Aspen feels like a stutter. Shit. Does this mean - is her boss some kind of Patrick Bateman or - the lie comes to her in a split second. “Well, he usually doesn’t come in until nine, but I’ll see if I missed him coming in. Just one moment, alright?” She smiles, even though the man on the other end can’t see it, and as soon as he agrees she puts him on hold and transfers to call Calum.

Aspen’s been touched by Calum. She knows he’s not a killer. But if he’s mixed up in- if this is about Don Falcone, or- no matter how she tries to justify it, her first instinct was to protect him however she could. That’s foolish, she knows. But here she is.

Calum picks up before she can lose her liar’s nerve. “There’s a detective from the GCPD on the line for you.” She explains, praying she at least doesn't sound paranoid. “I was wondering if you were in.”

It's calculating, the silence on the other line. They're both careful not to say too much, even in normal situations, but this… it's a little more delicate.

“Did they mention their name?” He asks, which relaxes Aspen a little. It's not the worst answer he could have given.

“Ah, a Detective Gordon.” She says, which seems to be the right answer, because he asks her to connect him.

Aspen does, and then she has to hang up and live with what just happened, which is better than talking to a policeman. Only just, though.

She thinks Calum can't get mad at her for thinking he could have something to hide if he didn't want to talk on the phone. Worst comes to worst, she'll say she wasn't sure if he'd want a lawyer or not. She knows he won't buy it, but it's a fair defence.

Now that she's got that figured out, she turns her attention to what her boss is hiding. Some offshore bank accounts? Or maybe Gordon is some cop he's paying off, to hide a secret double life. Maybe he's doing something wicked, just for the thrill of it. She’d say something related to escorts, but Aspen's pretty confident there's no one he couldn't have if he really wanted, so that's out.

Usually Aspen loves thinking up great and improbable theories for things she doesn't understand. It's different now, with Calum. She's got respect for him, and she doesn't want to lose that. It's probably healthy for her to drop her romanticized vision of him so she can get some fucking work done, if she's honest, but… god, she doesn't want to. Even after three weeks of being snapped at, she still sees a beauty in him, and that's rare. She kind of wants to chase that.

She keeps herself from thinking too much by listening to the phone messages that people left last night. Shit, she’s probably gonna have to come back in after the gala, isn’t she? Lots of emergencies and news happens at the end of the day, she should really- shit, no, this isn’t working, she can’t focus. She’s still turned upside down by what her boss might be involved in.

She tells herself she’s just worried for her job security. It doesn’t change anything.

She’s watching out of the corner of her eye and she sees when the line Calum’s being called on goes dead. How long is he going to wait before he called her in? He’s gonna want to talk about this, and ooh, who knew who could be listening? Wait, that’s a little cloak and dagger, even for her.

That’s what she thinks at the time, anyway. She has no idea.

He gives it only about a minute before he calls her and asks her to come into his office. It must be important, then. Aspen’s almost more curious than nervous; she’s pretty sure something is up, but she’s excited to see how Calum tries to brush it off. She steps in and smiles like she has no idea what to expect, like nothing’s wrong. “How can I help you?”

He’s writing something when she comes in, which she’s starting to think is a defence mechanism. He doesn’t make her wait, though, he puts his pen down as soon as she speaks up. “Oh, I just wanted to say that appreciate your discretion.” He says, face carefully controlled.

Very eloquent, he’s very good at this. She’s almost reassured. “Absolutely, sir. Should I do the same thing every time the police call, or-”

“You can transfer Gordon through directly, but otherwise… please. Yes.” He smiles stiffly, and Aspen can’t help it, she takes it as a challenge. She’s gonna find out what’s going on.

It’s like he can read her mind, because he says “None of that, Miss McMichael, don’t give me that look.” Aspen startles. Was it really that obvious? Does she have a look? She’s almost in trouble, judging by how he’s addressing her.

Her heart starts to pound despite herself. “A cat may look at a king, sir.” She tries to cover, but that asshole sees right through her.

“I don’t want you getting the wrong idea about this, alright? Detective Gordon was letting me know about the security at the fundraiser. After the- um, I think you understand why it’s essential for our guests to feel safe.”

Shit.

Okay, maybe Aspen was a little hasty. “Of course, sir.” She says, making her most sympathetic face. Fuck, one of his peers was just murdered, no wonder he’s in touch with the police. She’d be nervous and shifty, too.

...it doesn’t quite explain why he only wants to hear from Gordon, but she’ll save that for later.

She makes a quick exit, now, after mumbling updates about all the messages she’s sifted through. A lot of people want to talk to Calum this morning, and as soon as business hours start he’s kept on the line pretty solidly through the morning and afternoon. In the middle of one of his phone calls, around noon, she sneaks in and puts a granola bar on his desk, and she’s out before she can see if he smiles at her for it. It’s been a, um, weird morning, and she wants to avoid anything that champagne could catalyze tonight. She’s just being a good PA, to be sure, but still.

The day drags on until three in the afternoon. Fifteen minutes before the car is supposed to come (god, Aspen feels so fancy when she thinks that), she shuts her computer down and stands up. Since the incident with Liam, she’s taken to locking the schedule in her file cabinet, just to be safe, so that’s what she does before she sneaks out of her office to get changed.

Aspen knows she’s not supposed to be attracting attention at this thing, so she’s dressed a little like a librarian. She borrowed a black slip dress from her roommate (since Aspen hasn’t bought a dress since, like, prom), and she’s wearing a grey cardigan over it to keep her looking tepid. Now, smoothing out the skirt in the bathroom mirror, she thinks happily that she’s not completely sexless.

She knows that’s dangerous, given her feelings for her boss (ugh), but since he doesn’t reciprocate what’s the harm in looking like a sexy librarian? The confidence will probably fade as soon as she’s surrounded by whatever designer tea gowns the guests will be wearing, but she doesn’t mind.

“You look nice,” Janice tells her once she emerges, and Aspen appreciates the gesture.

“Aw, thanks. I was going for an outfit that said ‘trust me with thousands of dollars’, you think it’ll go over well?” She smiles, and Janice nods. “I think I’m gonna come back after the thing just to check messages, so don’t worry about answering my phone.” She adds as she’s heading back to her desk, grabbing her coat and bag.

When she turns around, she sees Calum.

Here’s the thing; she knew he would look good. He looks good all the time, just business casual, but he looks good now, in a suit that looks expensive and tailored and beautiful. Fuck this, honestly, Aspen’s gonna have to avoid him all night to keep from making a fool of herself.

She blinks to take him in, and their eyes meet. He was looking at her, he must have been, looking properly. She knows she can’t hold a candle to him, not in her begged and borrowed outfit, but the fucking electricity between them makes her hope for a second-

“Ready to go?” He asks her. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was smirking.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Aspen says. Her voice comes out so much smoother than she feels.

How’s she supposed to handle the car ride? Being in a small enclosed space with him sounds like too good of an idea right now.

She waves goodbye to Janice as they head out, and she busies herself with the tablet he gave her for taking donations in the elevator so she has an excuse not to look at him too long. It reminds her that, right, she could get in serious trouble if she doesn’t stay focused here today, and that cools her down enough to relax a little.

Aspen had been hoping that Calum would have a limo to take there, so when it’s his usual sedan waiting outside she feels a little let down. It doesn’t make sense for him to take a limo if he’s showing up before everyone else, she guesses, no one to show off for, but she had been hoping... Whatever. Alfred opens the door for her, and she slides in and immediately finds herself next to a kid with black hair and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. He’s little, wiry, and he’s maybe twelve. Calum follows her in, and maybe he senses her confusion. “Aspen, this is my ward, Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my assistant, Ms. McMichael.”

Dick Grayson puts out his hand to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, miss.” He says, with confidence you don’t usually find in a pre-teen.

Aspen is used to things being weird by now, so she reaches out and shakes his hand, just to be polite. “Likewise. Hey, you can call me Aspen, people only call me Ms. McMichael when I’m in trouble.” She smiles, just to put the kid a little more at ease. It’s eerie, seeing someone so young so formal.

It seems to work well enough, because as the car starts Dick smiles so wide his face almost cracks open. That’s better. “I read one of your research papers. About, um, the protein in the cell membrane, the, um, it was a sort of, um, ATP pump, the-”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, the effects of the SNP mutation- I remember. How’d you like it?”

Dick screws up his face and then immediately tries to smooth it out, regain his composure. He’s still trying to be polite, Aspen thinks, which is adorable but so not her style. Plus, he’s like eleven, he shouldn’t have composure. “It was-” he says-

“Godawful to read, right?” Aspen slouches back into the car seat, hoping if she relaxes the kid will relax. This might be the first time she’s slouched in front of Calum, she thinks, but she tries to ignore how she knows that.

She knows what she’ll see if she looks over at her boss; him watching her intently with those eyes like stars, some bright fire burning inside him. His eyes have a light to them she can’t escape. She thinks he does it with everyone - he’s been giving her looks like this since the interview, after all.

Sometimes she likes to pretend it’s just for her, though. She can feel the fabric of his suit pants brushing against her bare leg, and sometimes the warm weight of his thigh when the car turned the corner. This backseat doesn’t nearly feel big enough for the three of them, all in a row. She can’t believe her brain’s going haywire just because he’s close.

She focuses on the child beside her, on the science. That’s what she knows, not people. She knows the proteins and serums they’re made of, but even her own human heart is confusing. “Scientific writing can be - it’s hard to be accurate and interesting at the same time. It’s kind of stupid. But, hey, we’ve got like, fifteen minutes of this car ride, if you have any questions I’ll answer them.” She says.

“You don’t have to,” she hears, and Calum touches her elbow softly. It burns through her cardigan. How does he do that? “Dick knows you’re not here to entertain him.” She turns to look at him, catches his eye, and oh- it’s that look, she knew it.

Her mouth goes dry. She tries to ignore it.

“Nah, it’s my pleasure. You haven’t let me talk about science for two weeks, I’m deprived.” She finds it in her to scold right back. She controls her movement as she turns back to Dick Grayson, so it doesn’t look like she’s trying to break his gaze before she combusts. “Anything I can help you understand?”

“What’s an ATP?”

That’s how Aspen spends the car ride, then, instead of thinking about the man beside her. It seems to work; by the time they reach the venue she’s not as jittery, as raw, as she might be. And hey, to his credit, Dick is a good kid; he’s excited to learn what he can and he laughs at her jokes. Aspen likes that in anyone.

The venue is the Gotham Botanical Gardens, which Aspen is also real excited about. She’s going to sneak into the greenhouses if she gets the chance, but for now she keeps pace with Mr. Hood and Dick Grayson as they weave their way through the armed guards. There’s at least two cop cars that she can see - it all seems a little extreme to her, but it’s Gotham. She glances over at Dick - he seems a little freaked out, too. At least it’s not just her delicate sensibilities.

As soon as they’re into the ballroom - ballroom, Jesus, this city is extravagant when it gets the chance - Calum is dragged away by a harried man in a very nice suit. Someone shows Aspen to a table and introduces her to the woman who’ll be making sure any checks that are written don’t go missing. Renee Montoya has a gun at her hip and iron in her stare, but Aspen gets her talking about her work and eventually the woman warms up. Things seem to be going smoothly with the preparations (she’s keeping an eye on Calum, it’s her job, okay?) when suddenly there’s a BANG and someone screams.

Montoya actually pushes Aspen behind her as she takes out her gun, all in one smooth motion, and half the cops around the room are doing the same, searching for the source of the noise.

It’s happening. This is it. Aspen looks for Calum instinctively, can’t find him, oh, shi-

“Shit, goddamn it- we’re okay, everybody, Jesus, this kid-”

Time unfreezes. The police officer who swore is clutching his wrist, almost doubled over, but there’s no blood. Aspen lowers her fists. She’s not sure when she got into a fighting stance, but as she relaxes and the officers lower their guns she feels a little silly for it.

They’re all on edge, she supposes.

Her next thought is to find Dick. There’s only one kid in this building, at least as far as she knows, and she does not underestimate his capacity for trouble.

Another look around find both him and Calum - Aspen feels like she’s intruding, seeing them hug on the other side of the ballroom. Plus of course he’s a good father figure, because apparently the universe hates her and wants her to suffer.

She supposes she’s gotten attached to Dick, that’s why she strides over as they start to part. Dick isn’t crying, but he does look a moment from it when she comes up. Aspen’s not exactly nurturing, she doesn’t know if she can help, but she wants to. “Hey, you doing alright? What happened?” She asks him.

Dick looks up at Calum, who nods at him to tell her. It’s sweet. “I was looking for the bathroom and the officer found me. I think he thought I was lost, but he grabbed my shoulder an’ I didn’t know he was there and I panicked. I made a mistake.”

Aspen can’t blame him for being shaken. “Well, it is bad manners to grab people.” She says. Dick kind of cracks a smile at that. “Hey, it’s only a mistake if you let it happen again, that’s what I think. Don’t worry too much about it.”

When she glances up, Calum is smiling. “Do you mind staying with Dick until the guests start to arrive?” He asks her. “The planner’s had three separate crises since we got here.”

Aspen nods. “I’m good with that as long as you are.” She says to Calum’s ward, who looks unsure, but nods.

That’s a good sign. She’s glad he’s okay.

As soon as Calum’s gone she focuses in on the boy, who looks at her solidly. He is a little old for her to be babysitting him, but for now she’s free to goof around, so she doesn’t mind. “Did you find anything cool while you were looking for the bathroom? I’ve been trying to sneak into the greenhouses since we got here.”

“Just the kitchens.” Dick says, shaking his head.

Fuck yes. “Just the kitchens? Buddy, we gotta check it out. I’m sure if you look sad and cute enough they’ll give us all kinds of leftovers.”

“You think?”

“Give me your best puppy-dog eyes.” Aspen says.

Dick complies.

“Jesus, you are good. Those chefs aren’t gonna know what hit them.”

#yes there are kitchens at the gardens #this is gotham #the gardens were build with rich people and their comfort in mind #anyway things are about to get good #my writing #twdk #the devil wears kevlar #calum hood fic #calum hood series #5sos series #5sos fic #ch blurb #ceo!cal #batman!au

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fallinnflower · 5 years

Text

evening by evening

ren x reader (demon!au, angst, fluff)

a/n: as described by one of my friends, this is a slice of life but with a demon! don’t really know how that works but i wrote it i guess. anyways stream “bet bet”~

“Since I didn’t mean to summon you, doesn’t that mean you can go?” You ask, arms folded over your chest as you stare at the demon now sprawled comfortably over your couch. “I mean, I’m not about to strike a deal with you, so shouldn’t you leave?”

The demon lifts his gaze to yours lazily; he smirks, just slightly, tilting his head to one side as he regards you with his inhuman eyes. You suppress a shiver under his gaze, narrowing your eyes.

“I could leave,” he simpers, eyes heavy-lidded. “If you ask nicely.” You blink once, but continue holding his gaze.

“Okay,” you reply, “Can you please leave my house? I need to go to bed.” The demon’s jaw drops, and you’re shocked by how quickly his cool countenance falls away into what you can only describe as pure melodrama.

“What?” You ask, slightly alarmed, and he leans up off the couch.

“You weren’t actually supposed to ask me to leave!” He cries, “I was just getting comfortable!” His expression seems to be one of genuine horror that you would even do such a thing, and you furrow your eyebrows, feeling far too tired for this.

“What, do they not have couches in Hell?” The demon pouts at you. It’s unsettling insomuch as that it’s actually kind of endearing on him.

“It’s Hell, what do you think?” You hold his gaze for a moment, and he folds his own arms across his chest as he huffs and leans back against your couch cushions. You glance at the clock above his head and sigh — it’s way too late for this shit. You run a hand though your hair and shrug.

“One night,” you say. “You can stay on my couch for one night. But you’re leaving tomorrow.” His expression brightens, and he shoots up out of his seat, extending his hand to you.

“Deal!” He chirps, and you stare quizzically at his hand for a moment before shaking it.

The demon’s eyes suddenly flash gold, and you feel a burning sensation in your palm, pulling away with a hiss. You look from your palm to the demon, who’s grinning smugly at you.

“Congratulations,” he says. “You just made a deal with the devil.”

The next day, you drag yourself out to the kitchen and find the demon lounging on your couch with a bowl of cereal, watching tv.

“Is this mark gonna go away anytime soon?” You ask, holding up your palm to show him the strange, somewhat shimmering circle right in the center. The demon doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“Nah, it’ll be there ‘til I settle the score.”

“I thought the deal was that you could sleep on my couch for a night?” You ask, turning your coffeemaker on. Now the demon turns his gaze to you.

“Yeah, I meant to ask— where am I sleeping tonight?” You open your cupboard and realize with a huff that the demon is using your favorite mug for his own coffee.

“I don’t know,” you snap. “Maybe your bed in Hell?”

“No can do,” he chirps, happily munching down on your cereal. You wonder if demons have money, or if you’re just going to have to foot the bill for this unexpected guest. “I can’t go back there till I’ve settled my debt with you.”

“So, what, I have to make a wish or something?” You ask, and now when he turns his gaze to you he looks almost frighteningly serious.

“Not quite,” he replies, and although this voice is nonchalant his eyes somehow look even less human in the morning light filtering through your curtains — almost kaleidoscopic.

“It’s a blood debt.” You nearly drop your mug and your own bowl of cereal when he says this.

“A blood debt? For sleeping on my couch?” You hiss, and he shrugs.

“I don’t make the rules.” You set your bowl and mug down on the table and immediately rest your head in your hands. The beginnings of a headache have started to manifest in your temples, and you’re really about done with this whole day and it’s not even 9am. Thank God it’s your day off.

“Okay,” you say, mostly to yourself, lifting your head up. “Okay. If you’re staying here, we need to set some ground rules.” The demon sits up, intrigued by this.

“First off, do you have a name?” He looks confused at first, but his expression quickly shifts to one of amusement.

“Some call me Ren—”

“Fine. Ren.” He pouts at having been interrupted, and you take a sip of your coffee. “The couch is a futon. It’s yours now. Try not to overdo it on the TV, we live on a budget in this apartment. Don’t fuck up any of the appliances or the walls or else I’ll never get my security deposit back. Also, if you’re going to eat all my food, I expect compensation.”

The demon, Ren, blinks at you, and then lets out a laugh you can only describe as cute.

“What,” you snap, mouth full of cereal, and Ren meets your glare with an unaffected smile.

“You have a demon in your house and you’re worried about the most mundane things,” he says, shaking his head.

“Well, it’s not like anyone would believe me if I told them you were here,” you say, pointing at him with your spoon. “They’d just think you were some friend of mine with weird eyes.” He has the audacity to look offended, raising a hand to his face.

“I happen to think they look nice, thank you.”

“They make you stand out. Invest in some contacts if you’re gonna be staying with me.” You get up from your seat to go wash your bowl, then give him a pointed look.

“Also, if you eat something, you clean up after yourself. I’m not your mother or your maid. Got it?” Ren sighs and waves a hand.

“Yeah, sure, got it.”

“Don’t give me that tone,” you say, and he turns his kaleidoscope gaze on you. It’s somehow less unnerving than it was before, but maybe it’s just because you’re irritated. “I’m being gracious enough to give you a place to stay, all I ask is that you follow my rules. So, am I clear?” Ren blinks at you once before sighing and letting out a somewhat sarcastic,

“Yes ma’am.” You count it as a victory and move into the kitchen, half-heartedly listening to the discontented grumblings of the demon in your living room. When he comes home with groceries and contacts two days later, you don’t ask how he managed to afford it. You’re pretty sure you don’t want to know.

You wake up with a feeling you can only describe as dread forming in the pit of your stomach. You roll over, reaching for your phone to check the time, only to find the other side of your bed completely empty. Feeling that same sense of dread wash over you again, you sit up, only to find yourself less startled and more irritated by what you find.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice coming out rough and, honestly, gross. Ren shrugs, chewing on something that you can’t quite make out in the dark, your phone in his hands. The light from it illuminates his face strangely, casting severe shadows and making his eyes look silver.

“Twitter.” You rake your hands through your hair, already thoroughly done.

“On my account?” You ask, finally. Ren shoots you a look out of the corner of his eye.

“No. I made a side account for myself,” he replies, lifting his chin haughtily. “I have better things to do than watch clips of k-pop idols on variety shows.” Before you can manage a retort, he looks back at you for slightly longer this time, and you raise an eyebrow. He lets out a little hmph, which might be a laugh, before turning his attention back to your phone.

“Your hair looks terrible.” The sound you let out as you flop back onto your bed seems to startle him, at least, and you think he deserves it after his comment.

“What time is it?”

“Three,” Ren replies. “Witching hour. Me time.” You scoff.

“You’re not a witch, and you’re spending your time on Twitter.” You can just see enough of Ren’s face from the angle you’re at to notice the annoyed crumple of his brow before he turns to you.

“You’re mean,” he whines. “Why aren’t you scared of me? I’m a demon!” A little laugh escapes you as you curl yourself back into your blankets.

“Don’t ignore me!”

You fall back to sleep anyways.

Sundays are your lazy days. You let yourself sleep in, then you throw some stuff in the laundry and just relax until it’s done. This Sunday, despite having a new demon roommate, you opt for your same routine — you refuse to let this new pain in your ass ruin everything.

That is, you were going to relax, until you walked into your bathroom and found your normally white sink covered in a mess of hot pink.

“Ren!” You yell, whirling around in the doorway and stalking down the hall. Ren is sitting, unbothered, at your dining room table, his hair concealed in a shower cap. He takes a sip of his coffee before turning his bored gaze to you, but you can see a spark behind his eyes as they shift from blue to red. You feel your nails biting into your palms.

“What did you do to my bathroom,” you manage to ask through gritted teeth, and Ren blinks at you.

“I dyed my hair.”

“You made a mess!” You snap, running a hand through your hair. “This is supposed to be my day off— wait, no, it is my day off.” You fix him with a glare.

“You are going to clean my bathroom, or so help me God—” Ren visibly shrinks, frowning, at the use of the Lord’s name, and you point in the direction of your bathroom.

“Now,” you say. Ren sighs, sinking lower in your chair,

“Can’t it just wait till my hair is—”

“Now, Ren.” The demon huffs and gets up from his seat, letting the chair legs scrape against your floor. You respond in kind, lifting your chin and entering your kitchen to make some coffee for yourself.

Secretly, as you hear him grumbling and rustling around in your bathroom, you imagine his dye job coming out patchy, and smile behind the rim of your mug.

Your body jerks awake at the sensation of falling, and you can’t help the gasp that leaves you as you open your eyes. Your dream… you don’t remember it now, but as you begin to calm yourself down you notice there are tears on your cheeks. You can’t place exactly why you feel as anxious as you do, your mind reeling to try and come up with the answer.

Your breathing just won’t even out, though. You feel horrible and you don’t know why you just can’t seem to stop crying.

Ren suddenly appears in your room.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound worried before. In the darkness, all you can see is his eyes, glowing the way a cat’s might and causing you to cry all over again. The demon at the foot of your bed halts in his steps as he notices you recoiling away from them, and you want to apologize but you can’t find the words. There’s a frown etched deep into all of Ren’s features, and it doesn’t suit him, but you can’t make it go away.

Ren furrows his brows and suddenly he’s at your bedside, his hand resting on your forehead as you continue to cry. His eyes glow gold as he looks down at you.

“Get some rest,” he whispers, and as he passes his hand over your eyes, you fall into the most restful sleep of your life.

Come morning, you remember nothing.

It’s been a week. Long, torturous, and definitely enough to make you stop by the convenience store on your way home for some cheap alcohol to soothe your soul. You thank God that you have this Saturday off, even if it meant working hellish swapped shifts, because it means you really and truly have a weekend again.

And that means you can drink as much as you want to tonight, sleep in tomorrow, and binge watch Netflix if that’s what you want to do.

But the one thing you forget to account for, yet again? The demon leaving dents in the cushions of your couch when you get home, playing games on your old phone you had reactivated for him. He lifts his head as you open the door and toe off your shoes, an ironically devilish grin splitting across his face,

“Y/N—”

“No,” you say, firmly, not even looking at him. “Tonight is a self-care night,” you announce, producing the cheap bottles of rosé you had purchased and setting them on the counter. You hear Ren scoff as you dig around in your cabinets for glasses, settling on a mug because you’re so tired.

“You know, most people don’t consider getting drunk self-care.” You turn to him with a scathing glare.

“Do you want some or not?”

Your resident demon, as expected, smiles and shrugs and holds out a hand. He raises a brow when you pass him the mug, and you sigh as you shove his legs aside to settle onto the couch.

“If you want a wine glass, you can get it yourself.” Again, as expected, Ren shrugs at the thought and takes a sip of the wine, lips curling into a grin. After managing to dig the remote out from under a couch cushion, where you’re almost certain Ren had intentionally hidden it, you start scrolling aimlessly through Netflix. Somewhere in your feed you stumble upon some American horror movie one of your friends has said they liked, and while you aren’t normally a fan of the genre you don’t feel your interest piqued by anything else on your lists — so you press play.

And it’s no more than ten minutes until Ren is huffing in annoyance,

“That’s not how demons look. I’m not ugly.” His commentary doesn’t stop there, however; he criticizes their depictions of exorcisms, and demonic summoning and possessions, and eventually you pause the movie out of pure annoyance, unable to pay attention to the subtitles well enough to know what’s going on when he’s just babbling.

“Alright, Ren, either shut up or go somewhere else.” The demon blinks at you, and for a moment you think you see a bit of hurt in his expression, but he mutters something under his breath as he raises his mug to his lips, nodding for you to press play. A part of you feels smug, but another part of you feels bad for snapping at him; in reality, you know he has nowhere to go, he doesn’t even have a room in your apartment! Just because you’ve had a shitty week and he’s a little annoying doesn’t mean you want him to look like a kicked puppy, even if it’s just for a second. You bite your lip as you settle into your cushion more, then lift half of your blanket and offer it to Ren as a truce. It makes you feel marginally better when the pink-haired demon accepts, keeping his commentary to a minimum for the rest of the film.

At some point in the night, after one bottle has been finished and you’re starting to dissolve into giggles, you notice that Ren seems to have gotten closer to you — or maybe it’s the other way around, but you’re both leaning fully against one another as you watch some corny film, Ren laughing every time you do.

If he weren’t a demon, it might be kind of endearing, but you’re not intoxicated enough to forget that. At least, not yet. It doesn’t stop you from playing with his hair when the movie stops being interesting, however.

But by the time the second bottle is half-finished (mostly by you), you’re barely able to keep your eyes open as Ren drags you to go brush your teeth. He (with surprising ease) supports your weight as you sway in front of the sink, and you giggle out something about him acting like your boyfriend with toothpaste foam falling from your lips, but don’t bother to look at his reaction. But you mean it, deep down; when Ren isn’t annoying the shit out of you he’s basically your type — and even when he is annoying you he’s your type, but you’d deny that to the ends of the earth.

You don’t remember much after that, but the reality of the situation is that Ren lies in bed with you and watches stupid YouTube videos with you until you fall asleep, letting you play with his hair even though you’re turning it into a complete mess. Even with the videos, you can’t seem to shut up, and it’s surprising how unbothered Ren seems.

At some point in the night, before you fall asleep, you start poking at his cheeks and booping his nose, laughing when he swats your hand away. You press your hand against his to compare the size, and you’re not as fazed as you thought you’d be when he slots his fingers between yours. When your gazes meet, his expression is more soft than you’ve ever seen it, even with the harsh glow of your laptop playing along his face, his eyes shifting like clouds. He licks his lips, as though he’s about to say something—

You dissolve into laughter again, letting your clasped hands fall between you on the sheets and scooting closer to nuzzle your face in his shoulder.

“I’m tired,” you whine, and Ren chuckles. You think you vaguely feel his hand on your hair. “Goodnight, Ren.”

You can feel yourself falling asleep, your eyelids becoming heavier with each breath, and yet somewhere in your mind you still hear his voice.

“It’s Minki,” he whispers, sounding oddly choked up. “My name is Minki.”

And with that, you succumb to darkness. You wake up in the morning with a pounding head, spread starfish on your bed, unable to remember anything but the last stupid movie you had watched.

You roll over and go back to sleep, and the demon you hadn’t noticed in the corner of your room frowns to himself and slips out the door.

Your date had gone surprisingly well, you muse, leaning into Jinyoung on the sidewalk as he escorts you home. You had a somewhat nice bottle of champagne from your birthday in the fridge you had been saving for something, and you figure you might just use it as an excuse to get your crush from Literature into your apartment for a bit. A secretive smile plays at your lips as you both near your building, and you link your arm in his. Jinyoung was every part the gentleman you’d hoped he’d be, and now your only concern was whether Ren had actually tidied up before leaving the apartment like you’d asked him to.

Jinyoung hovers behind you as you unlock your door, both of you chuckling at a joke he’d told. One of his hands rests on your hip, and you turn around to grin at him before opening the door,

“I have some champagne in the apartment, if you’d like to come in for a glass?” Jinyoung smiles, his dark eyes glittering and the hand on your hip briefly squeezing.

“I’d love to.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks burning with blush.

You open the door only to be greeted by a large, snarling black (or maybe brown? It seemed to be glowing red beneath its fur) dog. Its ears are pressed flat back, its sharp teeth bared as its whole body trembles; its yellowy eyes look almost through you, focused directly on Jinyoung.

You turn to reassure him, already feeling an icy dread pooling in your stomach as his hand falls away from your hip.

“I, uh—” he chokes on his words, gaze not leaving the dog’s. “I don’t think your dog likes me.”

“It’s not—”

“Maybe I should go,” he says, taking one step back and then another, shooting you the least convincing smile you’ve ever seen.

“See you in class, Y/N.”

He’s gone down the stairwell before you can protest, and when you turn around again Ren is suddenly leaning against the wall near the kitchen, head tilted with a strange look in his eyes despite the grin playing at his lips.

“So that’s the infamous Jinyoung?” He tuts, shaking his head. “You can do much better. He couldn’t even handle Dolly.” At the name, the dog suddenly settles, sitting down and turning its head to face Ren. With its large tail wagging and black tongue lolling out of its mouth, it almost looks like a normal dog.

You know better. You slam the door shut, your whole body feeling taut like strings about to snap. Ren’s gaze is challenging, but his posture is relaxed; it makes you even angrier, somehow.

“You summoned a hellhound in my apartment?” You hiss, and Ren shrugs.

“Don’t give me that!” You snap. “You— I ask for one thing, one evening since you’ve made my life a living hell for the past six months—” You feel your body shaking the longer you go on, your vision blurring. You swallow the burning lump in your throat, but it doesn’t help.

“Why can’t you just pay your debt and leave me alone?” You ask, your voice hoarser than you expected it to be, falling unexpectedly heavy in the silence. Ren’s gaze doesn’t falter as he closes the distance between the two of you. You cover your face with your hands, not wanting to see him, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep through a whole winter.

“I can’t do that,” he replies.

Ren’s hand is cold when it brushes along the side of your face; when both his hands envelope your own and force you to look at him. You feel the tears burning hot behind your eyes, but you meet his anyways.

“Why not?” He looks almost bashful, maybe even a little guilty as he formulates his reply, still holding your hands.

“My name,” he whispers, so softly you almost don’t hear it. You swallow hard, having forgotten until that moment about the night he’d told you his true name, while you were half-asleep and drunk, but your mind whispers it softly now, Minki. You find yourself lowering your own voice in response, feeling as though the two of you are shrinking somehow, being consumed.

“What about it?” He looks up at you, his eyes changing colors like the sky.

“I wasn’t— no mortal is supposed to know my name. Now that you do, I...” His grip on your hands tightens, his thumbs running over your knuckles as if he’s nervous.

“I’m bound to you. Eternally.”

You’re not sure what to say, then, staring into his eyes as they shift colors. You feel overwhelmed — as if the past six months hadn’t been enough, now this. The tears spring to your eyes once again, and you let out a sob, though for what reason you can’t quite tell, before promptly collapsing to the floor.

You wake up in your bed, and all the memories from the previous night come rushing back to you. You sit up immediately, heart pounding, but Ren is nowhere to be found in your bedroom. You close your eyes as the blood rushes too quickly from your head, stars floating behind your eyelids as you attempt to sort out your thoughts. Everything feels like just a little too much, but you know you can’t leave things as they were the night before. Eventually, you drag yourself from under the covers, throwing on a sweater that you’d had draped over your desk chair.

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost want to cry again. It’s obvious that Ren had attempted to remove your makeup, but there are dark smudges left under your eyes from your eyeliner and mascara. It’s a sweet gesture, but there’s still a tight knot in your stomach.

Eternally, he’d said. You’ll never live a normal life — it’s going to be you and Ren, forever, and you can’t decide how you feel about that. You sweep your hair up into a bun and shuffle tiredly out of your room.

Ren is lying on your couch, but you know he’s not asleep. The curtains are drawn; he just lies in the dark. You can see a lump on the floor beside him glowing faintly orange, snoring.

“She’s still here?” You ask, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Ren doesn’t even look your way as he replies, voice strangely hollow,

“Hellhounds can’t be summoned for less than twelve hours at a time.”

“Oh.”

You shuffle awkwardly into the kitchen, putting on the pot for coffee before leaning against the threshold to look at Ren. You lick your lips and look down at the floor.

“I’m… I’m sorry about last night.” You can feel Ren’s eyes on you, but you’re too nervous to look up. All of your emotions are running high, and you just can’t seem to get your mind wrapped around this whole eternity business.

“Why are you apologizing?” He asks. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” As if hearing the desolate tone of his voice, Dolly whines and raises her head to look between the two of you. Her eyes no longer glow an unnatural yellow; in fact, she could easily pass for a normal dog now.

You pour two mugs of coffee and nudge Ren’s legs off the couch,

“Let’s just… talk.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eye you so warily, his eyes all different shades of blue and purple and gray, but he takes the mug you offer and sits up against the arm of the couch. You do the same, tucking your knees to your chest.

Ren is first to break the silence as you sip at your coffee, not caring that it burns your tongue a bit.

“I know you have questions,” he says, and it’s as much permission as you’re going to be given. You stare into the dark, steaming liquid in your mug.

“If nobody is supposed to know your name,” you start. “Then why tell me? If the consequences are an eternity with me, then why?”

“Can I ask something first?” His voice sounds strained, and when you look up his eyes have gotten darker in color, his forehead crumpled. You nod.

“Do you hate the idea so much?” He asks, and you think you hear his voice crack. “Do you hate me so much?” You feel your heart drop, and you clutch your mug tighter in your hands. Dolly nudges your foot, and you wonder if she has some sort of emotional extra sense.

“No,” you say, softly. “I don’t hate you, I’m just… eternity is a long time, Ren.” He swallows hard and looks down into his coffee.

“I know,” he intones. “I guess— I guess I just got attached to you. That’s why I told you my name.” You nod, but you’re not really sure you understand entirely what he means.

“I’m not trying to force you into anything,” he says. “And I don’t need an answer now. I just want you to know that, even though I’m sorry about it, I’m being genuine when I say that... that I don’t think an eternity with you would be bad. At all.” You nod again, and you look up to meet Ren’s eyes. He still looks extremely concerned, his eyes dark and shifting rapidly.

“Okay,” you reply. “It’s going to take some time for me to wrap my head around this but... okay.” Ren still looks as though he’s going to be sick any minute, and so you nudge his leg with your foot, watching as his expression morphs into a slightly annoyed pout. You pull your leg back and adjust yourself, sitting with your legs crossed so you aren’t so closed off.

“Stop looking so anxious, you’ll get wrinkles.” Ren rolls his eyes, but his expression does soften when he looks back at you and takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes gradually start to lighten to a mix of browns and dark oranges and reds, and a hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips.

For the first time in probably twelve hours, you finally feel as though there isn’t a massive weight on your chest — instead there’s one on your lap as Dolly suddenly leaps up onto the couch between the two of you, her large head resting on your crossed legs. Both you and Ren let out a little laugh at her antics, though Ren is soon whining as her tail slaps his nose in her excitement.

You smile behind the rim of your mug, watching him through your lashes; you have a feeling, somehow, that everything is going to be okay.

#nu'est ren #nu'est fanfiction #nu'est texts #nu'est fanfic #nu'est imagines #nuest #kpop fanfiction #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop texts #kpop imagines #My writing

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years

Text

Avenues (1/1)

Summary: The way Jeremy and Matt meet – it’s kind of a disaster.

Well, okay, not a disaster, just.

Par for the course for them, which is more or less the same when you think about it.

Notes: For @cool-loser who asked for Jeremy/Matt and FAHC first meeting. :D?

(Read on AO3)

Jeremy’s new to Los Santos and low in the pecking order of his crew.

Small-time criminals just trying to get by in Los Santos and smart enough to avoid trouble with other gangs and crews by sticking to their little corner of the city.

It’s a step up for him from throwing himself into the ring night after night and hoping to make it out with no serious injuries just to make rent.

The tiniest step up, anyway.

He’s gotten better at stealing cars, faster.

Fills the quota his boss sets for them with time to spare to pick up side jobs here and there. Earn enough to so he can splurge on little luxuries like food that doesn’t come out of a box or a can.

He’s on his last car of the night, some idiot who parked their car in shady looking parking lot down on the east side of the city.

Older model missing its hubcaps and obvious that it hasn’t been washed in far too long. There’s rust creeping up in spots and overall it’s in pretty shit condition. Might get a few hundred on some used car lot, but it’s more likely it’ll just get parted out in a chop shop somewhere.

Jeremy checks the area for witnesses, but aside from a few workers on their way to a bar after work there’s no one around.

The door to the car isn’t locked, which makes Jeremy pause.

Because one, what kind of idiot leaves their car in a place like this, let alone leaves it unlocked?

And two, the inside of the car is a mess.

Cracked upholstery with padding poking up in spots, sure, but there’s trash and other shit everywhere. Empty food container from takeout placed and boxes piled up on the passenger seat toppled over to spill their contents across the driver’s side. Unused napkins (thank God) on the floorboard and when he peeks into the backseat it’s more of the same with clothes and blankets mixed in.

“Jesus Christ,” Jeremy mutters, knowing he’ll get an earful for stealing a hunk of junk like this.

It’s one thing to bring his boss a piece of shit car on its last legs, and another thing entirely to bring one as messy as this one since it means extra work on their part. Jeremy shakes his head and gets to work, wincing when the car’s engine groans to life, alarming noises coming from under its hood.

It isn’t until he’s at a red light half a mile down the road that he realizes he’s not alone in the car.

Hears faint shifting, sliding, but figured it was all the crap in the car moving around with the way it shakes when he goes anywhere near the posted speed limit. Doesn’t think much of it as he tries to map out a route to the location he’s supposed to bring the car without risking taking it on the freeway in his head when he hears someone clearing their throat.

“Uh, so,” someone says, sleep-thick voice mild confusion. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know you?”

Jeremy would like to say he doesn’t let out a startled yelp, but that would be a boldfaced lie, wouldn’t it.

Has a fucking heart attack as he turns around to see some skinny fuck blinking owlishly at him, still half-buried in the pile of crap in the backseat.

“What the fuck?”

The guy just stares at Jeremy for the longest time, and then reaches up to push his glasses up. Eyes flicking to something behind Jeremy, and coughs.

“Light’s green, dude.”

Jeremy -

“What the fuck.”

The guy’s just watching him, not alarmed in the least at waking up to discover someone’s not only broken into the car he was sleeping in, but is actively stealing it.

With him in it.

Jeremy looks around the neighborhood they’re in, notices a few familiar landmarks that help ground him.

“I’m just,” Jeremy says, brain working overtime to process the situation, looking around the neighborhood they’re in and spotting familiar landmarks that help ground him. “I’m gonna take us. Over there.”

========

Over there is an all-night diner. Greasy spoon kind of place Jeremy’s gone to a before after a few rounds in the ring. The staff have seen just about everything there is to see in Los Santos.

Stands to reason if they didn’t give him a second glance when he was fresh from a fight they won’t bat an eye when he comes in with some scruffy looking semi-hobo trailing after him.

He gets them a booth in the back, and thanks the waitress who brings them water and coffee without being asked.

Jeremy toys with the corner of his menu while the guy studies his. Makes these little noises every so often like he’s considering each item on it as though it’s some kind of major life decision.

Who can say, given what little Jeremy knows of him so far it might be.

“So, uh,” Jeremy says when he can’t not anymore. “What’s up. You know, with you?”

The guy glances up, head tilted to the side.

“What?”

Jeremy stares at the guy.

The guy stares back.

“Do you - “ Jeremy trails off, not sure how to ask the guy if he has any idea how stupid he was sleeping in his car like that, in a neighborhood like that without coming off as an asshole, but. “Uh.”

The guy keeps staring at him, and Jeremy goes from fidgeting with his menu to holding on to it as if it’s a lifeline. Or you know, rather than straight up throttling this guy because Los Santos is going to eat him alive.

And oh boy does the guy notice.

Eyes dropping to Jeremy hands and back up to meet his eyes.

Raises his eyebrows, and then that weirdly apathetic expression of his cracks, this slow smile spreading over his face as he laughs.

And laughs and laughs and laughs.

It’s not an unpleasant thing, makes Jeremy want to laugh too, but you know. The whole thing about this guy being a complete moron.

After a moment the guy gets himself back under control, leans his face in his hand as he regards Jeremy.

“This is by far the best carjacking I’ve experienced since I got here. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Jeremy is beyond lost, and a little concerned at the implication the guy’s been carjacked before, because Los Santos.

“What?”

========

So.

The guy’s name is Matt and Jeremy was one hundred percent right about him being an idiot.

New transplant to Los Santos like Jeremy, and somehow made the cross-country drive here in his junker of a car.

Claims he’s good with computers although Jeremy’s yet to see him in action, and also -

“Oh, dude, nice.”

He’s Jeremy’s roommate?

Something like that, since he has nowhere else to go and Jeremy’s got a couch he can sleep on and he thinks he’s still in shock about accidentally kidnapping Matt. (Kidnapping, abducting, Jeremy’s not a fucking lawyer.)

Feels a little weird about letting him fend for himself in Los Santos, and anyway, what harm could it do? Matt’s taller than Jeremy, sure, but he’s a twig.

Jeremy pokes his head out of his tiny kitchen to see Matt looking through his game collection, and shoves that twinge of guilt he gets every time he sees it.

He should trade them in along with the console since he doesn’t have a lot of time to play in between everything else. That, and it’d help take some of the strain off when it comes to bills and food and whatever else, but it’s nice to have something that’s not connected to the shit he does for a living these days.

Matt’s looking more animated than he has since Jeremy met him, that moment where he cracked the hell up in the diner aside.

“You can play if you want, just don’t delete my saves,” Jeremy says, because he’s got groceries to deal with first.

When Jeremy explained the whole bit about stealing his car, Matt had laughed and told Jeremy he could still have it since it didn’t belong to him anyway.

Which.

Not like Jeremy can judge him, and it had been a weird enough night as it was, so.

He got the lecture of a lifetime from his boss, but he also got his cut and that had been enough to cover bills and food for the week for him and Matt and that’s all he cares about for the moment.

“You don’t mind?” Matt asks, thread of uncertainty to it like he’s finally realized how bizarre this whole thing is.

“Just play the damn thing,” Jeremy says, smiling to to take the sting out of words because Matt -

There’s something kind of lost about him that Jeremy recognizes in himself, and figures it won’t hurt to stick together for now.

They can hardly do worse for themselves, and who knows where it could take them one day?

#jerematt #ragehappy #fahc au #pre-fahc au #cool-loser #Kings of Nowhere #vagrant fic #Prompt Fills

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alteredphoenix · 5 years

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One Night on the Wild Hunt (WIP #2)(Tales of Berseria Modern AU one-shot)(Velvet/Eleanor)

A/N: I have over 5.4k and counting on this piece, about halfway done (like I asked for a modern/nudist AU fic to become another monstrosity), so I have enough material to provide a second preview. I think this will be the next fic I’ll work on and take a break from the WoW fics for a short bit until this is done and I can fall back on the WIPs/AUs until Visions of N’Zoth comes out after the New Year (that’s what I’m hoping, anyway; Classic hasn’t offered me too much in regards for inspiration).

I have this planned out, so here’s hoping I don’t drag my heels for too long on the...certain scenes that I’m about to write aka “How long does Grand get to beat around the bush before she has to rip it out by the roots and gets it over with”.

Although this part was fun to write, as someone who’s grown up with three dogs for most of her life.

They stand alone: Velvet and Doodle. No one else is awake; if they are, they’ve yet to step outside of their homes. The birds are still singing, traffic is still hustling miles away, and some idiot keeps backfiring their damn muffler on the other side of the block in between snatches of ‘La Raza’ playing almost outside human hearing.

Even still, everything feels...quiet. Different.

She wants to reach out, as far as her arm will allow her, grab Eleanor, and pull her back.

And then what?

Velvet sighs. “Well. She’s gone. It’s just you and me, boy.” She looks down, right at Doodle’s smiling, upturned face. He cocks his head to one side, swipes his tail back and forth.

She frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He tilts his head further, ears flapping.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. You were right there. She walked right into that.”

Doodle huffs, tosses his head up and left and right, stamps his paws on the ground.

“I know her, Doodle. She can talk the talk but she won’t walk the walk. Eleanor’s going to be the good girl that she is and wait; and when the day finally arrives it’ll be...well. It’ll be like any other day. No different than going to the bathhouses, or the showers after P.E. when we were in high school. It’s just skin.”

Doodle twists around and decides to gnaw on his ass with his teeth, lips curled up to reveal black gums.

“Hey. You be nice now.”

He digs in even more, claws flexing to keep him upright.

“Skin is skin, Doodle. I know what she looks like underneath, and she knows what I look like underneath. I don’t know why you’re making sure a big issue out of it. Like, no one knows I do this and no one knows she’s going to do this. Promises are promises; you are obligated to not break them. Seriously, who is she going to tell? Rokurou would just laugh his ass and never shut up about it, Eizen won’t give a damn because it’s not his business, and Magilou….” Velvet nods slowly. “The day Magilou finds out will be the day I go back to my old ways.”

Doodle sneezes once, twice, raises a paw to scratch his snout.

“Everything will be fine. She’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. It’ll just be like the old days. Just, you know, outside. But with fences to keep out all the prying eyes and the sun to warm our skins.”

“Woof!”

“Look, if the drones and the airliners get a peep in on this, there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m an ex-convict, not a force of nature. Shit happens.”

“Woof!”

“What about you? You’re going to watch, anyway. No lock in the world is going to stop you from finding your way in...somehow. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.”

Doodle smiles.

“You’re a sly one, Doodle. Go ahead. Keep your secrets. ‘S not like it’s possible for me to replicate them in my lifetime, anyway.”

Doodle grins and wags his tail fast enough to shake his hips.

Velvet sighs again, rubs the back of her neck. “Well. I suppose I should finish putzing around with the bike here and, oh I dunno. Maybe I’ll take her out for a spin later, see how well she’s running with the adjustments I gave her.”

Doodle cocks his head again, this time to the other side.

“Yeah, I know she’s fine. I’ve been touching her up every day for the past two – no, almost three weeks now. I’m just making sure she’s in tip-top shape. Besides, I don’t really have anywhere to go today except the mall unless Eleanor changes her mind. I’ve to keep an eye on my money, you know. I’m but a single woman with a criminal record and tangential ties to the underworld, living on her own with a dog that – and I’m not trying to be rude here, Doodle – just showed up literally out of the blue one day. If this were any other city, I’d have garroted myself on my own dwindling budget a long time ago.”

Another head tilt.

“I have not been spending that much, Doodle. Most of my bills are covered by the Bloodwings, so that just leaves me with groceries and the rent I owe Grimoirh every month. Eleanor and I just go window shopping and hit up the food court, you know that.”

“Woof!” Doodle yips, and gets down on his front paws, rear end sticking up.

“If she wants something, she need only say it. It doesn’t have to be just spotting a few gald here and there. Friends cover each other all the time. They buy each other gifts. Why, if they were lucky and were to hit the jackpot, they’d buy them anything in the world. Anything their hearts desire. It’s not only common sense, boy, it’s congeniality.”

#tales of berseria #one night on the wild hunt #undertale #velvet crowe #annoying dog #eleanor hume #veleanor #fanfiction #preview #mywriting

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years

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Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray’s stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn’t that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough.

Chapter Summary: Gray faces a truth that he doesn't want to deal with. Sting and Natsu both try to help.

Chapters (12/22): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can’t leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019, Coming Out, First Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, I promise

**TW for discussion of abuse/emotional reactions to abuse, suicidal thoughts

-----

being good isn’t always easy

sus·pi·cion | \ sə-ˈspi-shən noun :  a state of mental uneasiness and uncertainty

xi july

“How many times do I have to block these goddamn assholes?”

Lucy tosses her phone down on the table in the break room, and Gray peeks over to see a toll-free number flashing across the screen. He frowns, taking another bite of his sandwich and pulling his legs up under him on the chair.

“Who is it?”

“One of those stupid scams,” Lucy grumbles, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, then grabbing her coffee from the counter. “You’ve won an all-expenses paid vacation, blah, blah.” She rolls her eyes, then picks up the phone and opens up her call history. “I’ve blocked like... eight different numbers, but they keep finding new ones.”

Gray watches as she taps the number, then scrolls down and clicks ‘block.’

His stomach twists, like the floor’s disappeared from beneath him and he’s in free-fall.

“Anyway,” Lucy says, tucking her phone back in her pocket. “Are you and Joel coming to the barbecue next week?”

The words are just background noise to the sudden jumbled mess in Gray’s mind. A hundred thoughts float through his brain, and he jumps so quickly from surprise to suspicion to disbelief that it’s almost dizzying. Eventually he settles on unease.

“Graaay.” Lucy waves a hand in front of his face and he blinks, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re so out of it lately. You okay?”

“Fine,” he says automatically. “Just tired.”

Would Joel seriously... no. That’s ridiculous.

“How’s your shoulder?” Lucy asks, and Gray forces himself to focus on their conversation.

Continue reading on AO3

“Better,” he says carefully. It seems like an innocent question, but Lucy is sharp. Gray knows that she suspects something, but they’re both good at pretending.

Some days, Gray can almost convince himself that everything is fine. Natsu’s gone – they haven’t talked since that day at the beach, and Gray’s spent the last few months shoving the hurt and longing deep down where he doesn’t have to feel it.

Gray is loyal to Joel. Joel loves him. Joel takes care of him.

“You get the car fixed?” Lucy asks, swirling the dregs of her coffee before draining the cup in one long gulp. The AC rumbles in the background as it kicks into high gear – the summer has been sweltering, and Gray’s already wishing it was September.

He blinks at Lucy’s question, and she frowns at him. “The car,” she repeats. “You got rear-ended? Joel said the bumper was cracked.”

Oh, Gray thinks.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Insurance got figured out.”

The car is just fine. Nobody rear-ended them. Joel had been driving and yelling, and had slammed on the brakes hard enough to lock the seatbelt and bruise Gray’s shoulder. He’d said later that it was because he saw a cat crossing the street.

Gray wants to believe him.

Eventually, Lucy’s break is up and she heads back to the front of the restaurant. As soon as she disappears, Gray pulls his phone from his pocket. The only notification is an e-mail from the grocery store savings program, and he numbly swipes it open and deletes it.

He clicks on his contacts, then scrolls down to Natsu’s name. It’s still there under his old number, and Gray hesitates for just a second before clicking on the three little dots next to it.

773-555-3556 Unblock number

Gray stares at the phone until the words start to blur, and he realizes his hands are shaking and he’s barely breathing.

“No,” he whispers, finger hovering over the message before clicking ‘unblock.’

He quickly goes back and scrolls to Erza’s name, and part of him isn’t surprised to find the same message. He unblocks her as well, then sets his phone down on the table and covers his mouth with both hands.

“He wouldn’t,” he says to nobody. Nothing feels real. He can’t stop shaking. “H-he… no, there’s another explanation.”

There isn’t, part of his mind whispers. He wanted to keep you apart, and it worked.

-----

Over the next few weeks, Gray bounces between so many emotions that he’s left worn out and dizzy. At first, he tries to convince himself that it’s a mistake, that maybe something’s wrong with his phone. Or maybe Natsu and Erza blocked him, and somehow that showed up on his end as well.

The angry part of him knows that none of that makes sense, and desperately wants to confront Joel, to ask him why, to make the accusation and deal with the consequences.

The rest of him is terrified, and as much as Gray tries to keep it hidden, he knows he's failing miserably. Lucy’s on his case almost every day, asking why he’s not eating, or why he looks so sick all the time. He feels bad for being so short with her, but he’s too tired to lie, and he can’t tell her the truth.

“You don’t look so great.”

It’s Tuesday afternoon, so Sting is at the restaurant again. He comes in two or three times a week now and orders the same thing every time – coffee and a slice of pie. Gray’s almost certain that Natsu asked Sting to watch out for him, but Sting’s so likeable and friendly that Gray can’t find it in himself to be upset.

“Gray? You okay?” Sting’s frowning at him and Gray blinks, shaking his head.

“Yeah, it’s... I’ve just been sick,” he says. “I’m fine.” He forces himself to smile as he hands Sting his receipt and fills up his coffee.

“Rogue came down with something last week, too,” Sting says. His police radio crackles and Gray jumps at the sound, quickly trying to play the reaction off as an awkward nod while he backs away from the table.

When he comes back later, Sting is gone, his receipt and a few bills tucked under his coffee mug. Gray grabs it all, frowning when he notices something written on the paper. He quickly finishes clearing off the table, then slips into the bathroom, taking the note out and unfolding it.

If you need help and you can’t tell someone, ask me if I want decaf coffee next time I'm here. I'll know what you mean and do what I can to help. People care about you. ~Sting

Gray sits down heavily on the seat of the toilet, reading and re-reading the note. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he’s sure he would feel something, but all he can do is stare numbly at the words.

Joel cares about me, he thinks, but the thought is fragile – if he tries too hard to believe it, it’ll shatter.

A knock on the door startles him, and he quickly balls up the note, shoving it into the garbage beneath wads of paper towel.

“Gray? You okay?” Lucy sounds concerned, and Gray sighs.

“I’ll be right out, I’m fine,” he says, standing up and staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looks like shit. His hair’s messy and his eyes are red, and he can just see the edge of the bruise on his shoulder with the collar of his shirt open. When he buttons the shirt back up, he notices that his nails are bitten down so far that one of them is bleeding.

“I’m fine,” he whispers again. Maybe if he says it enough times, it’ll eventually be true.

-----

Gray has Natsu’s new phone number memorized. He read it a hundred times before he’d burned Natsu’s note from the night at the bar. Now he types it slowly into his phone, feeling a sense of unease and guilt run through him as he opens up a message window.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He promised Joel, said he wouldn’t talk to Natsu, said he’d be good and listen and do the things that make Joel happy.

But Joel said he wouldn’t hit Gray again, so maybe both of their promises mean nothing.

Gray [16:45] Hey. It’s me.

A response comes less than two minutes later.

Natsu [16:46] hey! ive been thinking about you, im so happy you texted. you doing okay?

Gray curls up further into the corner of the couch and reaches down to pet Bella. He starts to type out a reply and then hesitates. Joel already has access to Gray’s phone – he occasionally flips through Gray’s texts or e-mails while they’re watching movies or while Gray is cooking. But if Gray deletes the messages, Joel will never know.

Gray [16:47] You were right. Your number was blocked in my phone. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.

Almost immediately after sending the message, his phone starts to ring, and Gray jumps at the sound, heart pounding as he hits the ‘decline’ button. If Natsu’s number shows up on the phone bill…

Gray [16:48] Can’t talk on the phone.

Gray [16:48] He’ll find out.

It hurts to type the words, and it’s even harder to press ‘send.’ Writing it is an admission that Gray’s terrified to make, because it means Natsu is right, and Joel is…

Gray shakes his head, setting his phone down in his lap and rubbing his face with both hands. Bella whines and tips her head back, panting at him until he scratches behind her ears.

Natsu [16:49] are you safe?

The words make Gray want to cry, because there’s no good answer. At the moment? Yes. In an hour, when Joel gets home? Who knows. The uncertainty always stretches Gray thin, anxiety spiraling into panic until the door opens and he can see what kind of day Joel’s had.

Gray groans, tipping his head back into the couch cushions and staring at the patterns on the stipple ceiling. He can see the bouquet Joel bought him last week from the corner of his eye, and he tries to bring back the way he felt when Joel came home with flowers and a bottle of wine, apologizing for being grumpy.

Gray’s phone buzzes again and he stares at the message for a while before responding.

Natsu [16:51] gray, im so glad you reached out, but im really scared for you

Gray [16:55] I'm okay right now. He's not home.

Natsu [16:55] would you tell me if you needed help?

Gray [16:58] I’m fine.

Natsu [16:58] but if you werent, you know im here right?

Gray [17:00] You’re three hours away.

Natsu [17:01] then id be there in 3 hours. if you need me, ill be there. i promise, no matter what.

Natsu [17:01] if you need someone sooner than 3 hours, this is sting’s phone # and he can help you before i get there

Natsu [17:01] Shared Contact: Sting Eucliffe (SE)

Gray clicks on the contact and a local phone number comes up, along with an email and an address. It’s not far from where Gray lives. His thumb hovers over the ‘add contact’ button, then he shakes his head and runs the numbers through his head over and over until he has them memorized.

Gray [17:06] Okay. I have to delete this. You can’t text me or call me. I'll text you when I can.

Natsu [17:06] take care of yourself. im always, always here.

Gray [17:07] I know.

Then Gray erases the conversation, and deletes the missed call from Natsu as well. Once the words are gone, he feels hollow. Unreal.

He sets his phone on the coffee table and nudges Bella off his legs, then moves over to the dining room table and stares at the flowers. They’re pink roses, soft and sweet in a way that Joel hasn’t been in years.

Pink like the scar that runs across the palm of Gray’s hand, from a broken plate that Joel had thrown.

A sudden, hot, electric shock of anger runs through Gray, and he slams his hands on the table, biting back a scream of frustration. Everything is tangled up inside him, and he lets out a shaky breath as he tries to figure out how to push it all back down again, where everything is separate and safe.

He wants so badly to blame Natsu. Before the night at the bar, none of it was complicated. When Gray was careful, Joel was happy. Most of the time.

It’s not Natsu’s fault, though. It’s Joel’s, and no matter how much Gray tries to ignore it, the quiet, angry part of him knows it’s true.

Everybody fights, he thinks desperately, digging his fingernails into his palms.

Sure, but they don’t have to lie to the ER about why they need stitches, the angry part of him argues. Or lie to their friends. Or themselves.

“Fuck!" Gray shouts, lashing out and knocking the vase off the table. It falls to the floor and shatters into tiny shards of glass and shredded rose petals.

Gray sinks down to his knees and reaches out slowly, picking up the largest broken piece and inspecting its sharp edges. The anger is gone as quickly as it came, and all that’s left behind is a dull detachment.

At least now he doesn’t have to worry about what kind of mood Joel will be in when he gets home.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtpride2019 #day 13 #gratsu #natray #gray x natsu #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #update #new chapter #prompt #my fic #abuse #mind the warnings

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