#I saw a pic today of his bruised knuckles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

averykedavra · 4 years

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Push My Luck

What’s this? Me posting a prompt pic on the same day as the prompt? Inconceivable! But analogince is The Best Ever, so I managed to do it! It’s enemies to lovers Ultimate, guys. You’re missing out.

(Tagging @tsshipmonth2020! Title from Don’t You Go by All Time Low. You can find this fic on Ao3 here!)

Prompt: Pick your favorite Soulmate AU and write about it! I picked an AU where you receive a black mark where your soulmate first touches you, that turns colorful when they do.

Pairing: Platonic Analogince

Words: 6561

Warnings: death mention, swearing, arguing, insecurity, a very brief fight scene with one (1) punch, crying, a bit of anxiety

Virgil, as a rule, doesn’t take risks.

The world is a big scary place. Lots of ways to get kidnapped or mugged or threatened just by leaving the house. So he tends to do the bare minimum. He doesn’t speak up in class. He doesn’t talk to other kids. He doesn’t mention his soulmates or the fact that he hasn’t met them yet. When the guidance counselor asks him for the seventh time what his career goals are, he just shrugs.

Life is easier if he keeps stuff close to his chest. If he stays out of everyone’s way. If he gives people less of a reason to hurt him. Life is smoother if he hides and life is calmer if he’s quiet.

Life is safer if he lives and lets live.

And today he broke that rule, so is it any surprise that everything went to shit?

He didn’t even mean to. He’d heard the yelling and looked closer, just out of curiosity, and to know if he should start running. It wasn’t anything big. Logan and Roman were arguing in one corner of the hallway. They’d been giving each other dirty looks all through class, so it was no surprise. Virgil didn’t know what their problem was, but whatever. Not a big deal.

Then it actually sank in.

Roman and Logan were fighting.

Roman and Logan.

Roman? Yeah, sure. He wasn’t a great student, and sometimes he got a little passionate about stuff. Or a lot too passionate. He looked angrier than Virgil had really seen him, his hands flying around and his eyes narrowed, but still, it seemed pretty normal.

Logan, on the other hand--Logan was an honor roll student. Top of the class, probably gonna be valedictorian and go to Harvard and take over the world someday. He wasn’t the worst ever, but he was definitely stuck up, and he followed the rules like his life depended on it. Virgil had barely seen him raise his voice before.

And he was yelling.

Virgil couldn’t even make out the words, but he recognized several swears. Logan was ranting and his hands were balled by his sides and he was ignoring all the people staring at them. He looked like a bowstring, drawn taut and ready to fire.

What the hell had Roman said?

Virgil had inched closer, keeping several people between him and the argument. But he’s fucking short, a fact that perpetually annoys him, so he was forced to find an open spot pretty close to Logan and Roman.

They were inches from each other, face red. Virgil’s heart pounded in his ears as Roman’s voice pitched up. Fuck. He shouldn’t have come here--arguing was no fun to watch, and his breathing was already growing strained. Ugh, couldn’t they just stop? Logan was supposed to be responsible, right? And there should be teachers around.

Virgil tried to muscle his way back through the crowd, but nobody let him pass. Everyone was too focused on watching Logan and Roman tear each other apart.

He really hates this school sometimes.

So Virgil was stuck there, tapping on his leg and trying not to panic, hoping against hope that they’d shut up--Logan had called Roman a nasty name and Roman had fired back with something Virgil didn’t fully catch, but it sounded like a threat--Logan had tensed--

And Virgil knew.

In that moment, seconds before it all went to shit, he knew. He saw Logan draw tight, a bowstring, and he knew in an instant that this was gonna blow in Roman’s face.

Admittedly, though, he didn’t expect what actually happened.

He didn’t expect Logan to step forward and punch Roman.

In the shoulder. His fist hit Roman square in the fucking shoulder, and Roman stumbled back. It looked like it hurt. It sounded like it hurt, a dull thump that echoed through Virgil’s bones.

Suddenly, the entire hallway was silent.

Roman bent over and rubbed at his shoulder, grimacing. Logan just stood there, hand pulled to his chest, eyes wide.

Logan hadn’t meant to. Virgil could tell. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize, maybe to ask if Roman was okay--

“The hell?” Roman yelled, straightening. “Why the fuck did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

Great. Goddammit, Roman, couldn’t you have shut your big mouth for two seconds?

To Logan’s credit, he didn’t immediately fire back. But the apologetic look on his face did harden. “I didn’t--”

“Fuck, that hurts, ow.” Roman gave his shoulder a final wounded glance, like he was mad at it for betraying him. “Christ. Specs, you’re an asshole.”

“I didn’t mean to--”

“You fucking hit me!” Roman yelled. And there it was. There was what Virgil was afraid of--the moment Roman snapped, stepping forward and raising a hand.

Virgil doesn’t remember his thought process. It was probably something like fuck fuck fuck.

But one part of him must have been like fuck no. Fuck no, they were not gonna have a fistfight with Virgil trapped watching them.

Without thinking, Virgil dove between them. He grabbed Roman’s wrist. He pressed a hand to Logan’s chest. And he yelled “Fucking stop, jeez, will you quit it?”

Silence so terrible it almost ripped Virgil open.

Both Logan and Roman were staring at him. Strangers. Strangers he’d barely talked to in his life. Who he’d just ran in the middle of, and what if they yelled at him, what if he got hurt or got in trouble, and the whole fucking hallway was watching, what was Virgil thinking--

Roman didn’t pull his hand away. Logan didn’t move. It was like Virgil had frozen everyone in place.

“Stop,” Virgil repeated, his voice shaky, “or I swear I’ll pull the fucking fire alarm to get you guys to shut up.”

His skin was tingling. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t unglue his feet from the ground. Eyes bore into him and Roman and Logan were still silent.

Roman whipped his hand away first. He cradled his wrist to his chest as if he’d been burnt. Logan just stepped away and left Virgil with one hand extended in open air.

The silence stretched on again.

Virgil felt, suddenly, that he’d fucked up. Deeply and fully. He felt--wrong. No, not wrong. But different, like he’d been skewed off his axis, like something was fundamentally off.

Logan was dead silent. Roman was staring at his wrist. He looked from it back to Virgil, and Virgil caught a flash of purple.

Oh, shit, had he hurt Roman? Good fucking job, Virgil, deescalation by further violence.

“Sorry,” Virgil stammered out. “Um, is your wrist okay?”

Roman just stared at him like he’d sprouted two heads.

Virgil glanced at Logan. Logan was also looking at Virgil, but more like Virgil had been diagnosed with a terrible contagious disease.

Okay, he’d expected backlash. He hadn’t expected whatever this was.

“What?” Virgil demanded.

Roman held up his wrist. A purple smudge where Virgil’s hand had been--a bruise, fuck--

Except, no.

It was a deep, shimmering purple, ridged like Virgil’s hand had been covered in paint when it touched Roman.

Virgil looked down just to make sure his hands hadn’t been covered in paint.

What.

The.

Fuck?

One palm was covered in red ink, the other in blue. And before today, they’d been black, because that was his soulmark. He’d sworn they hadn’t changed. But here they were, practically glowing, deep colors pooling in his palms--

Where he’d touched Roman and Logan.

Fuck.

Virgil slowly looked up. Roman had pulled up his sleeve and was staring at a blue splodge on his shoulder. Logan was still cradling his hand, and now, Virgil could see red on the knuckles.

“No,” Virgil blurted out. “Fuck no.”

He didn’t even feel guilty about it. Because no. No, these couldn’t be his soulmates, he must have touched someone else--

“You’re--” Roman shook his head. “Come on. You?”

Logan just stood there, clutching his hand, looking like someone had pulled the world out from under him.

Virgil’s words had dried up in his throat.

And that was when the teachers arrived.

And to make a long lecture short, Virgil is now in detention, seated at a desk between Logan and Roman like they wanted him to keep them apart. He’d tried to say he was just trying to break up the fight, but all the spectators had mysteriously vanished when the teachers showed up, so now he’s here. Drawing circles on his desk and sneaking glances at his soulmates.

His soulmates.

It wouldn’t even be so bad if it was Logan. Logan’s a little bit uptight but he’s smart, whip-smart, the kind of smart that leaves Virgil in the dust. He’s got a firm voice and knows all sorts of words and doesn’t hesitate to raise his hand. He’s in the debate club, and Virgil went to one of their meetings for Jan’s sake--and damn. He remembers seeing Logan on fire, eyes gleaming, making up arguments on the spot and making them sound concise as if he’d practiced them for days. Logan’s a tutor--he helps other students. He works okay in groups. He’s a little socially awkward, and Virgil doesn’t think he has many friends. But neither does Virgil, so it’s fine.

It wouldn’t even be so bad if it was Roman. Roman’s a little bit dramatic but he’s passionate, fiery, so certain that everything he says is worth listening to. He loves to do voices. He talks with his hands and lets them fly around like butterflies, wiggling his shoulders and beaming like just being here is the best thing to happen in the whole entire world. He’s a theater kid. Virgil got dragged to one of those plays once. Roman’s a good actor--Virgil hates to admit it, but he didn’t realize the main character was Roman until halfway through. They didn’t even give him a new haircut or anything. Roman just...stepped into someone else’s skin.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was one of them.

But it’s both. Red and blue, smeared on Virgil’s hands, invisible when he touches them like they’re stuck beneath his skin.

Both of them.

Logan and Roman.

Who just tried to fight each other.

Shit, why does the universe hate Virgil?

He groans and lets his hands fall to his sides. He glances at Roman, who is twirling a pen in his hands and pointedly staring at the ceiling. He glances at Logan, who is pointedly doing his homework, jaw clenched.

Virgil sits in the middle of them and has no fucking clue what to do.

The best option? Stay put. Shut up. Do what he’s always done. He’s lucky he only got detention, and he’ll still probably be grounded for this--he shouldn’t push his luck.

He runs a hand along the colors, remembering all the weeks and months and years they were pure black. He always wondered how he’d meet his soulmate. Who they’d be. How he’d manage to touch them with both palms first.

Now he’s found them.

And they fucking hate each other, and probably Virgil too.

And they’re sitting with him in silence, and the detention room is empty because the teacher left to file a report on them, and the door is locked but the windows are open and wind blows across Virgil, smelling like old leaves and asphalt and exhaust.

He should be going home. But he’s stuck here for another hour with two people who hate each other. And he’s been jammed between them, a peacemaker, a bridge.

Virgil isn’t good with peace.

But he’s not good with very much, so--why not try?

What does he have to lose, except for his afternoon and his life and his grades and his shaky reputation and the tolerance of the two people meant for him?

“So,” Virgil says slowly, and lets the word ring through the room. “We’re...soulmates?”

Roman glances at him, appears to decide it’s not worth it, and looks away. Logan just keeps scribbling on his homework assignment, but Virgil notices his pencil skids on the paper for a microscopic second.

And they fall into silence again.

Well, good job, nice try, time to give up--except fuck no. They don’t get to ignore him. Not after they got him in detention.

“Yo,” Virgil almost yells, clapping his hands. “Fucking talk to me.”

“And they say I’m the dramatic one,” Roman mutters, but he looks at Virgil, so that’s a start.

Logan, however, just groans and opens up his backpack. He pulls out some earbuds and plugs them into his phone.

“Hey, hey, no.” Virgil waves a hand at him. “Get those away from you. We’ve gotta talk about this.”

Logan mutters something that might be “Don’t think there’s anything to talk about.” But he doesn’t put in his earbuds, so that’s a start.

And Virgil takes a deep breath and he isn’t fully panicking yet. So that’s a start.

“We’re soulmates,” he says again, because maybe they haven’t fully grasped that.

“Unfortunately,” Logan agrees.

“Don’t remind me,” Roman groans, lolling back in his chair and letting his hair flop over his eyes.

“Fine, I get it, you hate me, I hate you, cry me a fucking river.” Virgil sighs. “But...like, shouldn’t we at least try? To talk about this? Soulmates are, like--a big deal?”

“The biggest of deals!” Roman declares automatically, like he’s made this speech a million times before. “Hearts and souls intertwined, chosen by fate to be each other’s companion, in love before knowing of love itself.”

Logan rolls his eyes.

“But,” Roman admits, his hand falling, “I must say that I didn’t expect--um, this.”

“Join the club,” Virgil mutters. “Well, sorry to ruin it for you.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Logan says, giving Roman a look.

Roman gasps and straightens in his chair. “How dare you! You were the one who--”

“Guys! Guys!” Virgil holds up his hands. “Please don’t kill each other, that’d be traumatizing.”

Roman gives Logan a sneer before turning away. “I suppose it would be unchivalrous to wound the bitch, not that that stopped him.”

“Chivalry is an outdated concept,” Logan snaps back, but he’s not actively trying to rip Roman a new asshole, so that’s a start.

Virgil takes another deep breath.

“So,” he says slowly. “We’re soulmates. What do we do now?”

“Preferably nothing,” Logan says. “I have homework to finish.”

“You’re doing homework in detention?” Roman shakes his head. “You’re such a nerd, it’s almost too much sometimes.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Logan asks. “Lounge about for an hour?”

“Beats me, I don’t want to be here.” Roman checks the clock and winces. “I’m missing theater practice.”

“You’re a theater kid,” Logan says, rolling his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Well, at least I have passion for something, instead of being dry as dirt--”

“Guys!” Virgil yells.

Roman huffs and Logan turns back to his homework.

Ugh.

“Guys,” Virgil repeats, “can’t you have one civil conversation?”

“He hit me!” Roman whines.

“He’s an imbecile!” Logan says at the same time.

They turn to glare at each other over Virgil’s head. Virgil’s now beginning to understand why they hate each other so much--they get on his fucking nerves.

“Then apologize,” Virgil grinds out. “Say sorry and move on so we can actually figure out what to do.”

“Apologize?” Roman repeats like Virgil’s asked him to dance the tarantella.

“Yes.” Virgil leans back and folds his arms. “Fucking do it. Now.”

Logan gives Roman a long look. “Er...how is your shoulder?”

“It hurts,” Roman says.

Logan lets out a quick breath. “Ah. Well...I am...I should not have hit you.”

“Duh, Bill Nye the Science Tie, of course you shouldn’t have.” Roman rolls his eyes. “Kinda-apology kinda-accepted, I guess.”

“Your turn,” Virgil says.

“Ugh, do I have to? I wasn’t the one who caused injury!”

Virgil gives him his best do it or I will cut you glare.

“Fine.” Roman sighs loudly. “I...Logan. Today, I made you angry. I do that quite a bit. And you retaliated with violence, like a stupid caveman.”

Logan looks about to throw his pencil at Roman’s face.

“But,” Roman says hastily, “I should not have provoked you. It was very unprincely of me to be so cruel. So...I apologize. I guess.”

“Then I forgive you,” Logan says shortly. “I guess.”

“So we’re all good,” Virgil says. “I guess?”

From the looks on Logan and Roman’s faces, things are certainly not all good.

But what the hell. It’s a start.

“Great.” Virgil spreads his hands. “Now--what the fuck do we do?”

“We’re in detention,” Logan points out. “We cannot reasonably do anything.”

“We’re in detention,” Roman agrees, sounding like this is the greatest injustice he’s ever faced. “My moms are going to be really mad.”

“Tell me about it,” Virgil groans, because he’s realizing that yeah, his parents are gonna be pissed. “I’ll be grounded for like a month, thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Roman declares. “You were the one who decided to run into the fray!”

“Yeah, to stop you two from killing each other.”

“And why did you care?” Logan asks. It’s a sharp question, sharper than Virgil knows what to do with, and Roman’s own annoyed gaze falters.

“Because--” Virgil catches himself. He doesn’t actually have an answer. Not a real one. He just...did it. “Fighting would get you guys in trouble.”

Logan looks away, and Virgil feels like he’s said something wrong.

“Well, so much for that, Hot Topic,” Roman complains. “We’re all languishing together in this penitentiary.”

Virgil smirks. “Aw, you think I’m hot?”

Roman wrinkles his nose.

“Keep it down,” Logan mutters, bent over his homework again. “I’m studying for my trig test and if I fail, it’s your fault.”

“As if,” Roman says, and Virgil catches a hint of bitterness in the words. “You’ll get an A triple-plus no matter if you study or not.”

Logan sighs wearily. “They don’t give A triple-pluses, Roman.”

“A double-plus, then!” Roman waves his hand. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t get them like you do!”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Logan blinks. “Are you accusing me of cheating?”

“I don’t know, are you being accused of cheating?”

“That doesn’t even make any sense--”

“Guys!” Virgil yells. “I am so tired of being the taskmaster here--can we focus?”

“On what?” Roman snaps. “The fact that we’re soulmates? I’d rather not!”

“Soulmates don’t mean anything,” Logan says, slamming his binder closed with a snap. “They’re useless platitudes. Virgil, we don’t have anything else to talk about, so please be quiet and let me work.”

“Useless platitudes?” Roman somehow manages to look even more offended. “Do you have any sense of romance? Whimsy? Fate?”

“Fate is a human construct,” Logan says. “And soulmates have no bearing on reality.”

“Uh, my wrist is purple right now?” Roman waves it up and down. “I didn’t dip it in grape juice, did I?”

“I’m not saying they’re not real,” Logan says, spreading his own hand with red smeared on the knuckles like blood. “I’m saying they don’t matter.”

“Of course they matter!” Roman folds his arms. “Soulmates are the epitome of human connection, they’re someone you’re fated to be with--”

“If that’s the case,” Logan interrupts, “then why am I soulmates with you?”

Roman opens his mouth and closes it again.

“And me,” Virgil adds. “I exist.”

“And Virgil,” Logan says.

Roman gives Virgil a disappointed look. “Cute, but doesn’t make up for my other soulmate punching me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“No, you didn’t!” Roman rolls his eyes and slouches further in his seat. “I shouldn’t have expected anything, you’re like allergic to emotions--”

“I’m not--”

“Guys!” Virgil groans. “You know what? Fine! I’ll fucking give up! Go sit in silence, I guess!”

“Wonderful,” Logan says.

“Fantastic,” Roman says.

So they sit in silence.

And Virgil could-should-wants to leave it there.

But he’s come so far already. And he’s not gonna give up. Not now.

These are his fucking soulmates, and they already hate him, so why not push his luck?

“We’re soulmates,” Virgil says slowly. “That’s not--that’s not gonna go away.”

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Roman asks.

“I don’t know, accept it?” Virgil holds up his palms. “Soulmates may be bullshit. But they’re not bullshit to literally all of society. We’re gonna get questions. Lots of them.”

Logan nods, and for the first time, Virgil thinks he’s actually listening.

“I could make something up,” Roman says, but his voice is thin.

“No, Virgil has a point.” Logan rubs at his own knuckles. “Besides, half the school saw our little debacle earlier, so doubtless rumors are already spreading.”

“Great,” Virgil mutters. “Exactly what I needed. Attention.”

“It’ll be alright,” Logan says hesitantly. It’s so out-of-character for him and so different than everything else he’s said that Virgil almost chokes on thin air. “Doubtless they will forget in a few days, even if at first things are overwhelming.”

“Besides, nobody cares about you, anyway.” Roman winces under Logan’s incredulous look. “What? Nobody does! He’s, like, a freaking shadow demon--I didn’t know his name until two weeks ago!”

“Wow, thanks,” Virgil says. “Way to make a guy feel special.”

“And I hate to say it,” Roman adds, rubbing at his neck, “but those first few days? People will be on us. So many questions. They’ll want to know what happened.”

“Well...” Virgil summons his courage. “What did happen? I didn’t even hear what you guys were arguing about.”

Logan shifts in his chair and Roman looks uncomfortable.

“It was one of those snowball things,” Roman says, waving a hand. “Y’know?”

Virgil stares at him and waits for him to explain.

“Small stuff turns to big stuff.” Roman bites his lip. “I dunno, I made a comment during class, Specs got on my case about it, and it all just kind of escalated into a big huge mess.”

“What comment?” Virgil asks.

“Don’t even remember.” Roman shrugs. “I think Logan misused infinitesimal. He thought it meant really big but it actually means really small--”

“It has the word infinite in it!” Logan complains. “It is a misleading word!”

“Wait.” Virgil holds up his hands. “You got into a fistfight over one fucking word?”

“I wasn’t the one who tailed me after class to complain about it!” Roman defends. “And I wasn’t the one who made it a fistfight!”

“Jeez, L,” Virgil says, wincing, “that sounds pretty rough. Why’d you get so mad?”

Logan tightens his grip on his pencil. “Roman said, and I quote, ‘Seriously? Infinitesimal means really small! I thought you were the smart guy, why'd you make such a stupid mistake?’”

Logan’s voice dips in the middle and almost cracks at the end. It’s left there, fraying and tight, and fuck, Logan’s hurt. He’s pressing everything into himself, Virgil can tell, and he’s upset.

Virgil repeats the words in his head. They’re not too bad, really--but they also seem to have hit a giant nerve.

“Okay,” he says lightly, trying not to sound as lost as he is, “yeah, nevermind, Lo. I do kinda get why you were mad now.”

Roman shifts. “I--okay. Thinking back, it was not the most...constructive choice of words. But in my defense, he took it way too seriously!”

“Well, you were the one who lashed out like a little bratty baby!”

“You were the one who freaking punched me!”

“Guys! Fucking come on!” Virgil sighs. “Could either of you contribute, like, an ounce of constructive criticism?”

“I will if he does,” Roman says, and he’s half-pouting now. It’s fucking irritating in a way that bubbles up in Virgil’s chest and sets fire to his bloodstream. But Logan’s not any better, staring Roman down like he’s completely ready to go for round two.

“Constructively,” says Logan, “your comment was out of line.”

“Constructively,” Roman fires back, “shut your fucking mouth.”

“You’re throwing a tantrum. I do not engage with tantrum-throwers--”

“Oh, like you didn’t blow up at me?” Roman sneers. “Or would you say your temper is...infinitesimal?”

“You make one mistake!” Logan yells. “And this is what happens!”

Roman rolls his eyes.

“Why did you feel the need to point it out?” Logan throws up his hands. “What possessed you to announce, in front of the entire class, that I failed? I understand that you want to make a mockery of my mistake, but you could have had the decency to keep it to yourself!”

“Wh--” Roman splutters. “Mockery of your--I just made a joke! It was a joke, C-3P0!”

“Yeah.” Virgil looks at Logan and bites his lip. “I dunno, that kind of...sounds like a you problem?”

“It’s a me problem that he--”

“You made one mistake!” Roman stares at him. “You made one singular mistake, I teased you about it, and it’s not a big deal!”

Logan slams his hand on the desk. “It’s a big deal to me!”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t afford to make mistakes!”

Roman reels back like he's been slapped. “Well, if you get that pissy about one little screwup, why aren’t you upset that you fucking punched me?”

“I didn’t--” Logan presses his hand to his chest. “Roman, I--”

“Forget it.” Roman turns away. “Just forget it, I guess.”

Logan stares at him.

“I didn’t--” Roman swallows, staring at the floor. “I didn’t realize what I said. I say stuff without thinking sometimes, blurt stuff out--and I guess I was just--” He curls into himself a bit. “You’re smart, and you always know stuff, and I’m--I’m not. So I guess I--got excited that I could finally correct you. That you were...human.” He takes a deep breath. “And now my reputation is cemented as problem child, I might get kicked out of the play, and my parents are going to yell at me for eternity, so yay! Fabulous. Everything is bitterly jittery and not very glittery, and I, for one, would like to stop talking to you.”

Logan looks like he’s been slapped in the face. Roman huffs out a small, sharp laugh and starts playing with his pencil, looking like he’s holding back tears.

“Breathe,” Virgil murmurs. Roman glances at him quickly and takes a breath. Virgil gives him a little smile, and he thinks, for a second, he gets one in return.

“I’m sorry,” Logan says quietly. “For punching you.”

“Well, that just fixes everything, doesn’t it?” Roman glares at Logan with red-rimmed eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“Right.” Logan turns away. “Right.”

Roman sniffs once and is silent.

Logan slowly puts his binder away and lays his head on his desk, covering it with his hands. Virgil sees a flash of red on his knuckles. Somewhere on his chest is Virgil’s handprint, thick and purple.

They’re soulmates.

Virgil wonders if that’s why they can hurt each other so easily--they were made for each other’s hearts and know exactly how to break them.

He wonders if he’s fucked up by even trying to get those two to talk. Roman is crying. Roman is pressing a hand to his mouth and crying, and Logan has a hand fisted in his hair like he wants to tug it loose.

Virgil bites his lip, reaches out, and slowly pulls Logan’s hand away from his hair. Logan lets it drop limp to his side. Virgil scoots away and sits on his chair, drawing tornadoes on his desk, noticing idly that the teacher never came back. She just left them here, alone, and the air smells like exhaust and wet because it’s started raining. Virgil hadn’t noticed. It’s raining and the sky is iron-grey and he just really wants to go home.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to the desk. “If I just made things worse, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Roman says, his voice brittle. Virgil glances at him. He’s wiping tears away and attempting to smile. “You were the only one working at it, so it’s no wonder it fell apart.”

Logan is silent. Virgil expected nothing else.

These are his soulmates, and they hate each other and hate him, and he feels like he’s going to cry.

Logan shifts on the desk. He’s still covering his head with one hand like he can disappear through sheer force of will. Virgil stares at the red on his knuckles. Soulmates. Soulmates and here they are, a bunch of juniors in detention, broken beyond fixing.

He doesn’t even know why he tried.

He should have known better.

“Why did you try and stop us?”

Virgil jerks his head around. Logan’s still curled up on his desk. His voice is whisper-quiet.

“What?” Virgil asks.

“Why did you try to stop us from fighting?” Logan's hand curls on the desk. “I’d just hurt Roman, I deserved whatever he decided to do, why did you try to stop us?”

Virgil gapes at Logan. Roman’s quiet too, and when Virgil looks at him, he nods. He wants to know the answer.

So does Virgil, if Virgil’s being honest.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“You were freaking me out,” he says simply. “I wanted you to stop yelling, because I was afraid I’d get hurt.”

Roman looks away.

“And...and after that--” Virgil clutches the sleeve of his hoodie. “I dunno. You’re--you’re my soulmates, and--everyone says soulmates are supposed to get you. Be your friends, or whatever. I--” He curls tighter into himself, running a hand along the cold chair beneath him. “Let’s not make this any more emo than it has to be, but--friends. Those sounded...pretty cool to me, I guess.”

He chances a look up. Roman is watching him carefully. Logan is still a pile of hair and hands and shirt on the desk.

“I don’t...” Roman’s voice wavers, and he swallows. “I...I can understand that.”

Virgil stares at his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Logan says weakly.

“I know,” Virgil says. “So does Roman.”

“No, I’m really--” Logan pushes himself off the desk and turns to them. “I know, I know you don’t want to hear it, and I get that, but--Roman, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I promise. I was just--”

“A jerk?” Roman asks, but the jab falls flat, and Logan doesn’t even seem fazed.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I was.”

“You said it, not me,” Roman says.

“You also said it,” Virgil points out.

Roman gives him a glare.

“I was a jerk.” Logan cups one hand around his arm and begins to hug himself, looking at the blackboard instead of Virgil or Roman. Someone left a half-finished equation on there, and the chalk dust spells out all the faded problems before. Virgil catches snippets of dozens of different handwritings, none of them fully erased.

“You gonna continue?” Roman asks, his mouth lifting in a smile. “We don’t have all day.”

“I...” Logan chews on his lip. “I suppose I was...angry. I don’t like being wrong.”

“Nobody does,” Virgil says. “That’s normal.

“I just--” Logan takes a deep breath. “People always assume I’m just gifted. That I haven’t fought to have the grades I do. It’s completely illogical, since intelligence isn’t something you’re born with. I’ve tried my hardest to be where I am. And if I slip up, I’ll fail, and I’ll be right back at the bottom again!” He takes another deep breath, reaches down, and pulls out his binder. “I’m...I’m going to study now, if that’s alright. Feel free to talk.”

Roman and Virgil give each other a look. Then Virgil realizes he’s communicating wordlessly with a guy he hates.

Well, he doesn’t hate them. They hate each other.

Except right now, neither of them are glaring at each other.

It doesn’t erase much. The words are still there, etched in chalk and unable to be removed. But it’s a start.

And Virgil decides to push his luck just a little bit more.

“How do you feel,” he says slowly, “about us being soulmates?”

“How do you think?” Roman asks, his voice immediately souring. “I think we all made it pretty clear.”

“No, I mean--” Virgil waves a hand. “Yeah. We...we don’t like each other much. And we’ve clearly all got a lot of shit to work through. But--how do you feel about the idea? The, I dunno, possibility? That maybe one day...we wouldn’t have to hate each other anymore?”

“Sure,” Roman says. “That’ll happen. We’ll all just become best buds.”

“Roman,” Logan snaps. “You can say you don’t like me, you know.”

“That’s not--” Roman pauses. “I wasn’t--I was thinking you wouldn’t like me. Actually.”

“What?” Logan blurts out. “Why on earth not?”

“Um, ‘cause we fought? I called you names?” Roman waves a hand at himself. “That wasn’t exactly soulmate behavior.”

“I hit you!”

“Only once!” Roman folds his arms. “And you’re...you’re smart, and stuff. You deserve--yeah.”

Logan stares at Roman for a very long time. “What can I do?”

“What?” Roman asks.

“What can I do?” Logan repeats. “How can I...begin to make things up to you?”

“You don’t have to--” Roman laughs a bit, but it fades away. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.” Logan nods. “I wronged you, and I want to make it right.”

“Oh.” Roman gives Logan a bit of a smile. “Um, thanks?”

“No problem. Now, how can I assist you...to make up for mistakes one might have made prior?”

“That aren’t a big deal,” Virgil reminds him, “and that you’re going to be better than, okay?”

“Right,” Logan says, and he looks so relieved--it’s like he’s an entirely different person than the one in the hallway.

Then again, Virgil met his soulmates and immediately yelled at them. They probably all have hidden depths.

“Well,” Roman says slowly, a smirk spreading across his face, “if it’s anything, I wouldn’t mind infinite access to all of your notes--”

“No,” Logan says.

“Worth a shot.” Roman groans and collapses dramatically onto his desk. “Now I’ll fail my test. Thanks a lot, Specs, you’re a real pal.”

“I could--” Logan pauses, but Roman doesn’t interrupt. “I could...tutor you? If you wished?”

“What?” Roman snorts. “Better men than you have tried and failed."

“I’m serious.” Logan points to hs chest. “Always am. I wear a necktie.”

“You wear a necktie,” Roman agrees, “and it’s fucking incredible.”

“I’m trying to help and you’re making fun of me!”

“No, it’s--” Roman shifts. “I think--you pull off the necktie. So it’s fine.”

“Oh.” Logan blinks for a few times. “Regardless. I would like to offer my tutoring services.”

“And like I said, don’t bother.” Roman sinks a bit. “I’m no good at school stuff.”

“I highly doubt that,” Logan says. “Most likely, your education experience has been lacking. But you’ve shown creativity before--mainly in the inventive insults you’ve thrown at me--and I think in a one-on-one environment, you could flourish much more.” Logan pauses. “If--if you’d like, of course.”

Roman watches Logan for a few seconds. “You know what? I might just take you up on that. Er...thanks.”

“No problem.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “I know it can’t begin to make up for everything, but I think it would be...a good starting place?”

“Yeah.” Roman shrugs. “And that’s kind of all we need.”

“Thank you,” Logan says. “And, of course, Virgil.”

Virgil jumps. He’s been just sitting here, kind of smiling, glad they’re finally getting along but feeling kind of like a third wheel. He should have figured his soulmates would like each other better--

“Virgil!” Roman declares. “Our dashing prince who rescued us from the jaws of hate and malice! A thousand thanks to thee!”

“Um--” Virgil blinks. “You’re...welcome?”

“You did wonderfully,” Logan says, smiling a little smile at Virgil that makes Virgil ‘s face burn. “You went above and beyond what was expected.”

“How can our relationship fail with such a tireless helper at the wheel?” Roman asks.

“Relationship?” Virgil repeats. “Uh, dude, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Virgil’s right,” Logan says. “Again. A, we are not in any sort of relationship. And B, any such partnership would come to naught if we only relied on Virgil’s expert advice and did no work of our own.”

“Yeah, good point.” Virgil nods. “I am not doing this again, sorry. Get a real fucking therapist, please.”

Roman nods and has the grace to look sheepish. Logan smiles at Virgil again. Fuck, a smile that cute should be illegal, Virgil’s going to perish. He’s going to die right here in this classroom and never make it out of detention.

“So...work.” Roman shifts. “Tutoring?”

“Tutoring.” Logan pauses. “And...perhaps exchanging numbers?”

“Forward,” Virgil says. “Buy me dinner first.”

“I can if you’d wish--”

“It’s an expression,” Roman says almost fondly. “But of course, I will gladly share my phone number.”

“Great, we can make a group chat.” Virgil grabs his phone. “And I get to make it, too, so I can name it whatever I want.”

“Oh no,” Logan says.

“Oh, yes.” Virgil smirks. “You’re my soulmates, you know. You’re stuck with me.”

“Falsehood.” Logan shakes his head. “I’m glad you’re my soulmate. You too, Roman.”

“What?” Roman looks about to cry again. “Really? I--well, you two are...prickly. But...I like you. You challenge me on my bullshit--not that I’m often bullshit-y, of course. It’s...it’s nice. To have you guys.”

Virgil looks between them. “You’re both assholes and I’m still mad that you got me detention. But--if you’re willing to give this a shot...so am I.”

“Take a leap of faith,” Roman agrees.

“Take a risk,” Logan says.

“Push my luck.” Virgil smiles. “If you’d like.”

Roman smiles back. “I would like nothing more.”

“Phone numbers?” Logan offers. “Then...perhaps we could arrange an outside-of-school meeting? We can think of it as a second chance to get to know each other?”

“Nah.” Virgil shakes his head and holds up his palms. “We already did. Don’t think we can change our first meeting, L.”

“Fair,” Roman says, rubbing at the purple on his wrist.

“But maybe that’s okay?” Virgil ventures. “It’s not perfect, but--it did get us here, in the end. Hating each other slightly less.”

“Speak for yourself,” Roman says, but he’s grinning. And even Logan is relaxing in his chair.

The rain thrums outside the window, the air smells like chalk and wet trees, and Virgil is starting to wonder if taking risks might be worth it after all.

If they lead to this--two smiling faces, close to him, and a world of possibility before them.

The future has always scared Virgil. Today, though, he’s looking forward to it. A future with them. A future where they could be friends. They’re not close yet, they’re not all good just yet, but they’re willing to try. All of them.

And that’s a start.

“No fighting, though?” Virgil asks. “Promise me that, at least. I’m done playing mediator.”

“I promise,” Roman says.

Logan nods.

There’s half an hour left of detention. But they spend it together, and Virgil’s shocked at how quickly time flies when he’s got people to talk to.

Possible-friends. Future-friends. And maybe Virgil will mess it up, and maybe he won’t, and right now things are...good. Things are good. Things are looking up. Things won’t be perfect, and things can’t be erased, but they can try.

Virgil rubs his colorful palms and smiles.

Life is safer when he lives and lets live. Life was safer when his palms were black.

But life is more beautiful, more colorful, when he lets himself live it.

General taglist (ask to be included or removed!):

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@the-gay-is-back

@dramaticsnakes

@stoicpanther

Taglist from @the-taglist-repository:

@katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @dragonwithproblems @snowdice @locked-prism @nonasficcollection @enby-phoenix @idont-freaking-know @sign-from-god-complex @hitmewiththatfanart33 @aceawkwardunicorn @starlight-era @just-your-typical-trans-guy @potatsanderssides @demoniccheese83 @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @rainbowbowtie @lookingforaplacetosleep @k1ngtok1 @locked-prism @callboxkat @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123 @hekking-happy-nonsense @cottonwoolsocks

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #analogince #prinxiety #logince #analogical #soulmate au #high school au #sanders sides fic #averywrites #is this me projecting my frustrations with the education system #and being classified as a gifted child #maaayyybeeee #you can't prove anything okay

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honiboyyoon · 5 years

Text

Round One (M)

After one of his underground boxing matches gets busted by the cops, Namjoon has to make it up to his babygirl.

Paring: Namjoon x reader

Warnings: slight angst??, smut, nasty smut, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, unprotected sex, just read it

A/N: Lithen.., Bette sent me a pic of joon in a leather jacket and I immediately thought of undergroundboxer!namjoon and him at at police station and I’m not sorry im a slut

(feed back is welcome this is only the fourth thing i’ve ever written, my first smut, and the longest thing ive written so be gentle)

also @ddaenggtan suffer <3

****

To say you were fuming would be an understatement. Going to the police station to retrieve Namjoon was not how you pictured your night going. As you stood off to the side from the receptionist, you saw your boyfriend being escorted out by an officer. As Namjoon neared you, he took note of your less-than-thrilled expression, and mentally prepared himself for the fight that was about to ensue once you two got back to your shared apartment.

“I’m assuming this one’s yours?” the officer said smugly as he walked Namjoon past the separation gate.

“Unfortunately,” you quipped back, “unless you’d like to keep him here for a few days, that would be lovely.” The tight lipped smile on your face was anything but sweet and Namjoon was already too exhausted from his broken up underground boxing match to respond.

The officer gave an amused hum and once your idiotic boyfriend was cleared to go you spun on your heel and immediately marched out of the station, not bothering to check if said idiot was keeping pace.

“Y/N,” Namjoon began as you two got into your car, “Y/N baby I know yo-“

“Don’t even think about baby-ing me right now Namjoon” You spat, “I don’t even want to talk about this right now, I would just like to get home as soon as possible.” Namjoon nodded in response and you drove home with a white-knuckle grip on the wheel the entire ride.

Once you two made it home, you walked into the unoccupied elevator, which Namjoon took note of. As the doors closed Namjoon tried again, “Baby-“

“We’re not back home yet Joon, we still have six floors to go.”

Namjoon doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this upset at him. Sure, this may have not been the first time you had to pick him up at the police station because his underground match had gotten busted. Sure, money was tight now and paying bail was definitely not helping. And, okay sure, last time you had picked up Namjoon from the station he was bruised up pretty badly and you warned him this was the last time, but you didn’t really mean it, right?

Once the elevator reached your floor, you pulled out your keys and unlocked your apartment door. Briskly walking in, you don’t even spare your boyfriend a glance. Shutting the door, Namjoon followed closely behind you and caught your wrist.

“Alright, we’re home now, now can we talk?” Namjoon pleaded. Whipping around to face him, you mustered the most pissed off face you could, “about what Namjoon? Talk about what? The fact that you promised me, promised, that the last time would be that, the last time!” You’d be shouting if you weren’t so drained.

“I’m sorry, alright? But you know that I can’t just stop fighting” Namjoon was also drained, both physically from the fight, and mentally from bickering you two have been doing so often lately.

“And why’s that?!”

“Because I need to make money, dammit! I need to support myself, you, us.” Namjoon took a step forward, handing raising to stroke your cheek, and guilt washed over you because you knew the only reason why he fights is to have extra cash for the two of you. “I’ll always take care of my baby girl.” His voice dropped, it was deeper, huskier. The change in attitude did not go unnoticed by you, and your pouting lip doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon either. Bringing his nose to the shell of your ear he breathes out “Daddy’s really sorry baby girl, will you let Daddy make it up to you?” A whimpering nod is all you can manage. Namjoon brings his face in front of yours, “use your words,” “yes, Daddy.” Namjoon breaks out into a grin before his lips crash into yours. The kiss is sloppy and harsh, dominating in every way. As Namjoon winds his hands through your hair he gives a yank, forcing you to bend your head back and he takes advantage of your open neck. Roughly biting at the skin, Namjoon works his way down your neck as his other hand rubs you through your leggings. By now your a whimpering mess and your pretty sure Namjoon can feel how wet you are even through both your panties and leggings. Bringing his lips back up to your ear he tugs at your earlobe, “don’t think I forgot about how you acted at the station baby, you were being so bad. Trying to keep me locked up? That wasn’t very nice to Daddy.”

“You ruined my night because I had to bail yo-!” A quick smack to your ass had you shutting your mouth. “Want to try that again baby girl?” Namjoon was groping your ass, already riling up to deliver another blow to the soft flesh. With a shake of your head Namjoon gave your ass a light tap, “face down on the bed baby, come on.”

On shaky legs you walked into your bedroom and started stripping, Namjoon behind you the whole time palming himself over his jeans as he watched you. God you’re so beautiful he thought. Once you were completely naked you crawled up on your bed face down with your ass invitingly posed in the air. Namjoon pulled off his leather jacket and white t-shirt and threw it next to your head. Your pussy clenched at the sound of his belt coming off. Still in his jeans, Namjoon kneeled on the bed with his belt in his hand, “I know Daddy wasn’t very nice today so I won’t go too hard on you, but can you still be a good girl and count for daddy?” his hands were roaming all over your ass and God did Namjoon just want to sink his teeth into your plump little ass. “Yes Daddy I’ll be good” You whimpered, thank goodness Namjoon said he would go easy on you, you don't think you could handle waiting much longer to get stretched out by his cock.

With a soft peck to your ass cheek, Namjoon started roughly groping your ass, the anticipation of waiting for the first blow was starting to kill you, and just as you were about to voice your thought a loud smack rang throughout your bedroom as a red hot sting bloomed across your right cheek. “One,” you whimpered, by now you were just a whimpering mess and Namjoon barely touched you. He bent down to kiss the throbbing cheek, “good girl baby” Namjoon coed. It was after the tenth hit of the belt that Namjoons hands finally went lower, skimming over your folds, not daring to go near your dripping hole, and not near your aching bud, just teasingly passing over your wet slit. “Jesus baby, you’re so fucking wet huh? Your pussy is so pretty dripping all over the bed.” The praise just shooting down straight to your core. Tilting your face to kiss you Namjoon breathes out, “always such a good fucking slut for me huh baby?” Without warning he shoved two fingers inside you, “fuck, your pussy is always so wet for Daddy.” Namjoon isn’t gentle as he finger fucks you, orgasm already starting to near. “You want my cock baby? Huh? Do you want Daddy to make you cum all over his cock?” “oh my God, y-yes, yes please Daddy, please fuck me, please” Namjoon loves every single thing about you, but fuck did he ever love the way your voice got whiney and how fucked out you already looked when you’re begging for him. He quickly pushes his jeans and boxers past his thighs, his fully erect dick slapping against his abdomen, all the while his other hand is still pleasuring you. He pulls his fingers out of you to get situated behind you on the bed, and you whimper at the loss. “Shhh baby girl, I got you,” Namjoon spits into his hand and rubs it over his aching dick, “Daddy’s got you,” and you drop your head into his leather jacket as he slowly enters you, the stretch is still intense even with him prepping you. Namjoon lets out a loud groan as he slowly bottoms out, “fuck babygirl, Daddy almost forgot how tight you are” he’s biting his bottom lip now as he runs his hand messily through his hair. “Maybe its because you’re always at those stupid boxing matches” you pant. God sometimes your timing was stupidly bad. A harsh slap to your ass has you yelping. “What was that baby girl? I didn’t quite hear you,” “I didn’t say anything, please fuck me Daddy, please!” That was all Namjoon needed. Pulling almost completely out, Namjoon thrusts back into you hard. He quickly sets a brutal pace, the sounds coming from where your bodies meet is nothing but lewd and pornographic. “Holy shit, oh holy shit I love your cock Daddy, you always fuck me so good” you mewl. Namjoon delivers a sharp slap against your ass, ego now fully inflated, “you love my cock that much baby girl? You’re fucking dripping for me baby, shit”. You were already close before and your moans and whimpers are only getting louder and Namjoon knows his baby girl enough to know you’re close to cumming. Sliding a hand to your front he quickly started rubbing your clit, and you scream. “You gonna cum baby girl? Come on Daddy wants to see see you cum, you’re always so beautiful when you cum baby c’mon” as Namjoon fucks you into the bed your face is only getting more buried into his leather jacket, your senses are overwhelmed by the smell of the leather and of him. It only takes a few more thrusts and you’re cumming hard. Namjoon fucks you roughly through your orgasm, your screaming like a banshee and Namjoon loves it, he loves that he makes you this way. “fuck baby I’m close, lemme cum inside you, please baby girl, fuck you take my cock so well,” you can feel a second orgasm quickly approaching as you're begging for Namjoon to fill you up, “please Daddy, please give me your cum, I love when you cum inside me and make me your dirty little girl,” Namjoon gives a few more harsh smacks to your ass, “you love being my little cum slut huh baby girl? You love when Daddy fills you up?” “Yes, Daddy! Yes I love being your little cum slut, I love it when you give me your cum!” And with a final hard smack to your ass your cumming for a second time and Namjoon unloads into you, groaning and panting hard.

Pulling out and collapsing next you on the bed, your both silent save for your hazard breathing. You can feel his cum starting to leak out of your abused pussy as Namjoon starts tweaking your nipples and kissing down your neck once again, “c’mon baby girl that was just round one.”

Fuck.

#namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #rm #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #boxer!namjoon #daddy!namjoon #daddy!bts #smut #bts smut #namjoon smut #HAHAHAHAHA I CANT BELIEVE I WROTE THIS #namjoon x reader

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angelaiswriting · 5 years

Text

The Assistant (2 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[original picture: pinterest + no new banner today bc i don’t want to risk to spend the rest of the day analyzing these two hands haha]

✏️ Pairings: (eventual) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader | Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina) | probably other pairings

✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01 : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ A/N: I wanted to post this before lunch, but I got carried away but Vlad’s tattoos HAHA I’m a fucking Master Procrastinator (but it could be useful for the story, who knows. If I find the pics I was referring to last night, I might even research them all bc as of now all we have are dark photos since Daredevil is what it is...)

✏️ Warnings: none that I can think of tbh

✏️ Word-count: 2,823

REQUESTS ARE OPEN IF YOU WANT ME TO WRITE FOR YOU 💛

<< chapter one <<

CHAPTER TWO: UNPLEASANT NEWS

Weirdly enough, the meeting was going to be held in a new location, one that had been kept a secret until an hour before its beginning. Commonly enough, though, the location was another building still in construction and owned by Fisk’s company, for he wanted to be sure to be on safe ground. No police, no complications. He wanted one clean operation so as to not blow up his cover.

It wasn’t going to happen anyway, the Ranskahov brothers reasoned. They cared about their money and their traffics and even though they weren’t exactly that excited to be working with Gao and the Yakuza, they weren’t going to complain. As long as money poured into their pockets, they were fine.

What they weren’t fine with, was a spy.

What had previously been a simple rumor had later turned out to be, in fact, the truth. The girl Wesley was going to bring along was a hacker–hence, in Vladimir and Anatoly’s dictionaries, a fucking spy.

Why did that girl have to be there, none of them had a clue. Was it because of the failed shipment two months ago? It couldn’t be: they had had three other meetings with Fisk’s man and the problem hadn’t been brought up. It hadn’t even been addressed because it hadn’t been their fault.

And yet, the real question was: where the fuck were the Asians? Their absence felt weird, a stinging aftertaste at the back of their throats. They had always been present because they were part of the deal and part of the business. They dealt with drugs and the Russians with weapons and human beings. They were symbionts: they worked together because they benefited from the others’ work.

Unless, of course, this was Fisk’s way of removing them from the chessboard. He acted like its king, he felt as though he was its king: what was going to stop him from killing off the Russian side of the traffic?

Vladimir gritted his teeth, the smoke of the cigarette finding its way out from his flaring nostrils. The fingers that held the cigarette trembled, but not in fear. He wasn’t at ease, he didn’t like to stand and wait in an unknown place, unaware of its emergency exits and hiding corners. Unlike his older brother, much more composed, he felt like a caged animal. He could smell the people on the other side of the bars, even though he could barely see them, and the more he waited, the more that cage shrank in size.

It was almost like being six again when he had been trapped in that damn elevator that never worked like it should have. He had grown up in an old building–old, and dark, and stinky. He saw shadows everywhere, even if he wanted to show a brave façade in front of his brother and father. After all, Vladimir Ranskahov was no pussy. The truth was, though, that he had been terrified by that creepy junkie that lived down the corridor, or by the man that, two doors from his own, yelled at any given moment. And so, he never took the stairs. Hopping from one foot to the other, he always jumped into the elevator, forced its doors closed so as to not let anyone else inside, and punched the button that would bring him up to the sixth floor. It was always an endless ascent: that metal box smelled like cat piss and the neon light above his head flickered and threatened to switch off. He had felt a jerk, that day, and he had bumped his head against one of the four walls but hadn’t immediately realized what had happened. It had taken him a couple of minutes, for it was weird that the doors hadn’t opened yet. And so he had understood and pressed the button with the yellow bell, hoping and praying that someone would come.

It had almost been like being in a movie: the hot guy and the hot girl ended up in the same elevator, which would soon break, and they’d end up kissing and touching. But he was not a hot guy and there was no hot girl and he had felt an invisible fist squeezing the air out of his lungs, leaving him breathless as his mind worked at the speed of light.

It had been the longest four minutes of his life before the doors finally opened and the building’s technician welcomed him onto the corridor.

Even now, as he paced back and forth on the ugly and bare cement floor, inhaling the smoke of his cigarette as though it was pure-quality air, he felt confined inside the four walls of that elevator, locked in there like a sardine in its can.

He wasn’t good at this. The only thing he was capable of doing when he felt trapped was fighting. He fought with kicks and fists, he bared his teeth like a wild animal, he turned into the beast he had been back–don’t go there–back there. And it didn’t matter that that place was just that–a place–nor that he tried his best to pretend it didn’t have a name, because deep down, in the deepest part of his mind, it still had–Utkin.

Fuck, no.

“Where is that fucking doormat?” Those words were a canine growl at the base of his throat, burning with the fumes of his third cigarette in the last fifteen minutes. It scratched his throat with its dusty fingers, it knotted his stomach, it set his brain on fire, slamming it into survival mode.

Anatoly turned towards his brother, more concerned about his compulsive smoking than he was about Wesley’s tardiness. He didn’t like the guy, so he was happy he wasn’t there yet–his lateness also probably meant that the meeting would be cut short because, as he always loved to put it, “he was a busy man”.

He spat to the ground and wasn’t able to stop his head from shaking. Fucking rat. How could someone really expect someone of his caliber to take orders from someone who couldn’t even clean his own ass? His fingernails split the flesh of his palms, but he was too busy worrying about his brother to even notice.

The night before Vladimir had come home late–and Anatoly knew that just because he had asked–ordered–Petya to tail him. He had supposed he still hung out at illegal fights’ rings, but before that day it had only been just that, a supposition. He thought… He had been foolish enough to believe that…

What do you do when you find out someone you love is still attracted by the wrong people like a magnet? He didn’t know, not anymore; probably he had never even known for sure. Not once did he delude himself into thinking he wasn’t one of ‘the wrong people’ because–damn!–he was, and Vladimir was, too. But he and Paulina had tried to help him endless times–or, better, they had deluded themselves into thinking they could indeed help him, when all he knew was fighting and how to fight and how to win a fight–and they had always failed. Vladimir kept going back to his own special drug and while Tolya had believed he had stopped fighting, Piotr had proved his convictions wrong: Volodya fought and he fought well, he hadn’t lost his skills.

Faced with the news, he thought he had lost his brother.

And even now, as he stared at him, it felt like staring at a stranger. He couldn’t recognize his face, nor his ugly scar, nor his bruised knuckles. He sighed–he hadn’t meant to, so it had probably been his subconscious’ response to the terrible feeling of failure that threatened to drown him.

Right then, Vladimir turned, one eyebrow cocked into a questioning expression, and Anatoly couldn’t understand how he had managed to hear that sound above what he knew had to be the screams of his own thoughts. “I’m going to give the moron five minutes: if he’s not here by then, I’ll leave this fucking place and go home.”

“No Russian here, please.”

The brothers turned into the direction of the voice just to see Wesley walk into the open and half-built space, a young woman trailing behind him with an annoyed smirk on her face.

“No newbies here,” Anatoly retorted, mocking Wesley and throwing his own cigarette to the ground. “She can wait outside, whatever it is.”

“Unfortunately I fear this is not what my boss wants.” The man shrugged his shoulders, almost sorry he couldn’t fulfill Anatoly’s wish, and his words gave the girl the courage she needed to take a few steps forward, to better look at the brothers.

Vladimir groaned. He turned towards the city, visible through the missing windows, just as the night breeze slipped in, blowing the smoke of his cigarette in his face. His eyes closed on reflex even before his brain had the time to send out the order and the man inhaled deeply before reopening his eyes. “Make this quick, we don’t have whole night.” And, unable to help himself, he let a muttered ‘mudak’ slip past his lips.

“This is Y/N.”

Anatoly greeted her with a curt nod of his head, his eyes scanning her whole form. It wasn’t just to take her in, but also to check if there was any visible trace of a weapon poking out from somewhere. Wesley had eventually put his mind at peace, for the Ranskahovs would never leave their guns at home when they went to one of his stupid meetings, but they weren’t going to accept some unknown newbie to be armed in their presence.

“She works for us,” Wesley went on. He had clearly expected some different kind of reaction from the brothers and had been disappointed by its lack.

“We don’t care who works for you,” Vladimir spat, finally turning around and letting his cigarette fall to the ground. “We have our men and your boss has his. We do not care.”

They both hated Fisk’s bootlicker, with his tiny eyes and rectangular glasses and his stupid hair brushed back. He was annoying, he believed himself important when all he was, was a doormat. What role did he have in Fisk’s business? He never got his hands dirty–nor stained with blood. He was just a pawn. And yet, he always presented himself with that stupid expression plastered all over his face, screaming slap the shit out of my eye sockets.

Dick.

“Well, actually…” Wesley’s smirk grew bigger. At its sight, Vlad felt his blood boil through his veins, turn into a furious stream, threatening to blind him. “She will be working with you from now on.”

For a second it was as though time had stopped and dilated. The brothers turned to stare at each other with silent questions passing through their brains and over their eyes, and Anatoly saw Vladimir’s fingers twitch in the attempt to not close his hands in fists. He then watched him swallow–slowly, almost painfully, saliva as thick as blood as it slid down his brother’s throat.

Then, when he least expected it, Vlad let out a cold, robotic laughter. Tolya had feared he’d take his gun and shoot James Wesley between his eyes, yet his reaction chilled him to the bone.

“We will not work with woman,” he declared, nodding in Y/N’s direction. She had been standing there, staring at him with her clever eyes shielded behind her pair of glasses, and he hated her examining stare, almost as though he was some weird animal that needed to be studied. The scar on his face, the one Utkin–fuck–gifted him for his twenty-fifth birthday, burned almost as though he was back there and then, blood still spilling down his face like his mother’s tears. “We have all men we need. She would be useless.”

“Actually-” The girl had tried to speak, but Wesley stopped her with a wave of his hand.

“Our boss,” and he emphasized on the adjective, “was pretty disappointed by your failure, two months ago.”

“He should have spoken up as soon as it happened,” Anatoly cut in, taking a step towards his brother to stop him with his presence from doing anything stupid. “It has not happened ever since,” he smirked, breath coming out loud from his nostrils, head slightly tilting to one side. “How could this girl,” and he stared down at her, his gaze accusatory and mouth set in an annoyed sneer, “help?”

Vladimir chuckled and the sound somehow came out harsher than his previous laughter. It made Anatoly’s hair stand up on their ends and Wesley’s satisfied smirk fade. “Unless she’s good at sucking dick, she’s useless.”

“I know more than you do,” the girl cut in, too tired and annoyed by the Russians’ words. “And I will not trouble myself with your tiny dick, so you might as well find yourself someone else. Maybe you could even resort to your own hand.”

Vlad’s face contorted into a sneer, air coming out boiling and furious from his nose, hands wrapping up into fists. Anatoly had to hold him back, for he knew his brother would smash that girl’s head on the floor if he let him take another step forward.

“Come on, guys, come on.” Wesley had taken a step back, leaving Y/N alone on the front line. “This decision is unnegotiable. Y/N will come to your garage tomorrow morning and my boss expects to not hear one word from you,” he pointed to the Russians, “and not even you, Y/N. Work your problems out without killing each other and you might even earn a reward. She will check your clients, help you with commissions and business and if you let her do, a bigger portion of the business will be waiting for you.”

Anatoly nodded, forcing his brother to turn his back to Wesley and the girl. Unconcerned by the man’s first words upon meeting them that night, he switched to his native language. “I don’t want her with us either,” he confessed, grabbing Vladimir by his arm. “She could be sent to spy or God knows what else. But it’ll do us no good if she hacks into our shit and tells everything about our business to this dog or to their boss. Let’s play their game for a while and see how it goes.”

“It’ll all go to shit, brother!” Vladimir could hardly see straight. That fucking shipment had failed because the Asians had insisted on doing it their way and yet it was them that had to put up with a stupid babysitter. “Whatever she’s been sent here for is not to help us. Where’s Gao? Or the Japanese? This is a fucking trap and this stupid American and his boss only want to sack us, give our part of the deal to someone else and drop us somewhere on the bottom of the Atlantic.”

Toly turned to glance at the girl, who was staring at them both with an annoyed frown settled upon her otherwise sweet features. “Look at her, she looks just as annoyed as we are, though.” As Vladimir turned to make sure his brother’s words reflected the truth as his mirror welcomed him with the ugly reflection of his scar every morning, Anatoly continued with his reasoning. “If she really can hack into our shit, she wouldn’t be sent to work with us.”

“So what? You think she’s not a real hacker?”

Tolya grunted. “What I’m trying to say is, let’s wait and see. If anything goes wrong or is she tries to do something, we can still kill her.”

“Why don’t we do that now? Give me five minutes alone with her and no one will ever find her corpse.”

His brother was so stupid, Tolik thought. How couldn’t he see beyond his nose? Maybe he had left what little brain nature had given him back in Utkin, he reasoned, and that had to be the real reason behind his stupidity. “Why make her work with us if she can end us with her computer?”

Vlad peeked a glance at Y/N one last time before turning to stare at his brother. “Is Ivan sure she’s a hacker?”

Tolik nodded. “We can use her to know things about the people she works for, too.”

“I’m trusting you on this, brother,” Vladimir sighed, finally turning towards Wesley.

The man wasn’t just annoyed, he was pissed but, for once, he chose not to make any remarks about the men’s use of a language he did not understand. “Are you done?” he simply asked.

Anatoly nodded his by-now-throbbing head while his brother grimaced at the presence of the girl he was apparently forced to work with. “I want you at the garage tomorrow morning at five. We hate latecomers.”

>> chapter three >>

HAHA I can’t wait for you to read the beginning of chapter three (and for me to start it) bc Y/N will be pissed HAHAHAHA

Thoughts? Suppositions? Suggestions? I’m all ears.

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask. Same goes for ‘Bratva’)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi

Bratva (people not on the lists but that might still be interested): @sweetvengeancee @theranskahovs @brobachev

#vladimir ranskahov imagine #Vladimir Ranskahov #vladimir daredevil #vladimir ranskahov fanfic #vladimir ranskahov x reader #vladimir daredevil x reader #vladimir daredevil imagine #vladimir daredevil fanfic #vladimir daredevil fanfiction #reader insert

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philanddanxreader · 7 years

Text

Beach Day

Hello, Love bugs.

Dan X Reader

Warnings- smut.

YOOOOOOOOO ok so I was on IG and I saw a pic of dan and phil in swim shorts and thought of this: reader and one of the boys (doesn’t matter) go to the beach, and when reader takes off their clothes so they’re in their bathing suit, one of the boys gets really turned on and they start to not-so-subtly check the reader out/flirt with them, then eventually smut (if you want!!) thank - Anon

California became your happy place with Dan. It had become a little tradition for the two of you to go on a little beach excursion after VidCon was over. Once the boys did all the collab’s they wanted to do with other YouTubers Phil would fly home to London while yourself and Dan rented a beach house on the water for a couple of days as a treat for just the two of you. A little get away to recharge after the craziness of meeting a ton of people and talking YouTube non-stop for four days straight. You were pulled from your thoughts as the car came to a halt in front of a cute little blue house. Getting out of the car you met the driver at the trunk to retrieve your suitcase from him. He gave you a smile and a little wave as you turned and headed towards the front door. You followed behind Dan as he had drug his suitcase behind him to your new home for the next couple of days.

Once inside you closed the door then turned to find Dan behind you reaching his hands to grab at your waist. You gave a giggle as he pulled you towards him. “Well, hello Mr.Howell.”

“Hello, Y/N. We are officially alone.” Dan Said as you rested your arms on his shoulders.

“It would appear we are all alone. After the last few days, it’s nice for it to just be you and me. You know there is something I have been waiting to do with you since we landed.” Dan raised an eyebrow as he leaned in close to you leaving only an inch between your lips and his.

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Dan said giving you a little smile.

“Let’s go to the beach!” You gave a few hops up and down as Dan rolled his eyes at you. “Oh, were you thinking of something else? Something we haven’t been able to do together in a while.” Dan shook his head as he gave your lips a quick peck.

“Well, what are we waiting for. Let’s go down to the beach and get our tan on.” You smiled as you scrunched up your nose before leaning into Dan to give him another quick kiss before finding your suitcase to head to the bedroom to change.

Once changed the two of you went out the back patio door to find your own little private piece of beach waiting for you. The neighbours beside you were gone for the week and the other house was for sale so no one was going to be coming around from there. It was a little piece of heaven for just the two of you. As Dan took in the sight of the never ending ocean you took off the shirt of Dan’s that you had put on as a quick cover up. Handing the sunscreen over to Dan you gave him big puppy dog eyes as you asked him to spray you up. Dan obliged spraying your limbs, back and face with the pina colada scented spray. Once protected from the sun rays you headed out into the sand. Unfortunately, the moment you strutted your way onto the beach your feet instantly started to burn making you look less of a sexy beach goddess and more or a gazelle who is just learning how to walk. You ran to the water to stand in the bits of sand that had been cooled off from the waves crashing in and out. Now that your feet were no longer on fire you turned back to Dan to see him taking a photo of you on his phone trying to be sneaky.

“You better not be taking photos of me in my bathing suit!” Dan laughed as he tossed his phone on the table before starting his little sprint in the sand to where you were in the cool ocean. Dan grabbed at your hand when he reached you only to pull it up to his lips to give your knuckles a sweet kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. But if I were to have taken a few photos I would say that you look ravishing.” Dan gave you a please forgive me smile as you pretend to roll your eyes and be more upset than in actuality.

“Hmm, what on earth am I going to do with you?” Dan had re-wrapped his arms around your waist like earlier as he pulled the two of you together.

“I think you should probably do the only sensible thing. Which is kiss me and forget I even took sneaky photos of my girl.” Dan said as he pressed his lips into yours. As the two of you increased the lust and pure need for each other into the kiss you let your hands find their way to Dan’s hair to be able to play with the little curls as you became more and more intoxicated with kissing Dan. When the two of you pulled away from each other Dan immediately started to continue the kisses down your jaw to your neck where he decided you needed a new love bite. He wasn’t allowed to give you hickeys before or during VidCon as the two of you were seeing too many important people who wouldn’t find the little bruises the same as the two of you did. For Dan, it was a subtle way to let the world know you were his girlfriend and one of his best friends. He loved to catch a glimpse of you marked up when you would be changing or if you shifted and let the little marks be seen.

As Dan continued you pulled away from him grabbing at his face to make him stop. “I love how enthusiastic you are today but I really want to go for a little swim. Think we can hold off for a little bit?” Dan nodded as he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“Sorry. It’s just you look so beautiful and it’s been awhile since we have been able to fool around. Sometimes I can’t control myself around you.” You gave Dan’s face a little pat before grabbing his hand to pull him into the water with you. As the two of you walked further into the water the waves started to crash into you making sure to cool you off from the heat. It was nice to splash around in the water as Dan tapped into his water baby side and swam circles around you.

“Better watch out. I hear there are sharks in this water who circle beautiful woman. Here comes one now.” As Dan started to make his circles faster he decided to add to everything by singing the Jaws music as loud as possible. When Dan came around your front you gave him a good shove to make him stop circling you like his next meal.

“Stop it you spork! There could be real monsters in the ocean right now waiting to eat us and here you are teasing them.” You gave Dan a look of displeasure as he swam up to you kissing your pretend grumpy face.

“Don’t worry. What your boyfriend lacks in strength he makes up for in random facts Phil has told him over the years. I can take on any sea creature that tries to steal ya.” As Dan looked smug with himself you ran your hands over your face and through your hair before looking up at him.

“I have seen you freak out over a spider crawling on your laptop.” Dan splashed you as he gave you the look.

“Who did that spider think he was? Walking around on my laptop like he owned the place.” you gave Dan a laugh. He was such a cute dork. The two of you continued to swim around before a shiver went through your body. The water had gone from a nice way to cool off to feeling like you were in an involuntary polar bear dip. Dan saw the goosebumps raise on your arms before pulling you in for a hug. It was a nice hug but still didn’t do anything to actually help with the chill.

“Shall we go hang out on the beach for a little bit?” Dan Said wrapping his arms around you tighter. You nodded into Dan’s chest before following him out of the water and back onto the little deck to dry off. Dan pulled the two of you out some lounge chairs to get a little bit of sun. You thanked him before laying down on the chair wrapped up like a burrito. As the sun warmed you up Dan went inside to find a couple of drinks for the two of you. By the time he came back with some snacks and drinks you no longer needed to be wrapped up. As Dan walked back to his spot he took his time to soak in the view. He would be a liar if he said it was the beach he was looking so intently at.

The California sun was warming you up when you remembered you hadn’t put any sunscreen on since it probably all washed off in the ocean. Turning to look over at Dan you tilted your sunglasses down to look over the shades to see Dan of course playing on his phone. Even on your mini vacation, he couldn’t put his phone down for even a moment.

“Which filter have you decided for your atheistic as fuck post you are making?” You said cheekily as he continued to scroll on his phone.

“I went with Valencia. A classic if you ask me.” Dan flashed you a smile before looking up at you.

“Well, I’m glad someone is keeping the Instagram game high. But if I could interrupt for just a moment. I could really use some sunscreen before I turn into one giant red burn.” Dan tossed his phone over to his little table before grabbing the cream from the beach bag you insisted on bringing outside with you even if you were only feet away from the house.

“You are the neediest girlfriend on this entire beach.” Dan squirted the cream directly on your back to let the cold give you goose bumps all over.

“You are such an ass!” Dan was content with his bugging you and started to rub the white into your skin.

“You’re right. This shit is cold.” You ignored Dan as he rubbed from your shoulders down to where your suit hit the mid part of your back. “I’m no expert but I think you are going to have some major tan lines with your suit like this. Maybe you should go topless. For the tan lines.” Peeking up from your spot you looked to Dan to see his dimple filled smile looking back at you.

“You think I should go topless?” Dan nodded his head as he stood back up waiting for you to take off your top. “Well, I suppose that tan lines would be the worst thing in the world. And you said it yourself that it’s like we have this entire beach to ourselves with these big walls separating each place.” You didn’t need much convincing to go topless. The beach was empty and with the walls around your little piece of beach and deck right out front of the house, no one would ever see. It gave you a few butterflies as you shed your top and tossed it down beside your chair. Dan was back at your side to continue rubbing in the sunscreen as you laid back down on the plush beach chair.

“There. Now when I take you out I won’t be embarrassed to be seen with you for your unsightly tan lines.” You were about to mouth off to Dan before he gave your bum a quick slap. “You don’t always need to have a sassy remark. Especially when I am being so kind to you.” Dan gave you a wink as he finished rubbing in everything all the way down to your ankles. “Just like a pancake, it’s time to flip.” You did as Dan said rolling over on your back.

“Thanks for being a good boyfriend.” You leaned up to kiss Dan as he met you half way. It was an innocent peck. Well, at least it was only meant to be a quick kiss. Dan had other ideas however as he deepens the kiss, letting his hands wrap around your lower back to hold you up. You didn’t fight the kiss as your own hands went around the back of his neck to be able to play with the little curls at the back of his hair. The salt water always seemed to make his hair even curlier than when he normally let it do its own thing. As the two of you kissed the sunscreen was quickly forgotten as it hit the floor when Dan joined you on the chair pulling you up to be able to sit in his lap and wrap your legs around his hips.

As you kissed and nibbled your way at each other Dan had started to slowly rock the two of you back and forth to get some sort of friction to relieve some of the pressure off the both of you. As hard as Dan tried it didn’t seem to be working to help do anything for you but make you in need of his touch more than before. Dan’s fingertips were running up and down your spine when you let out a low moan of need mixed with frustration. Dan couldn’t help himself as he pulled away from the kiss with a smirk playing across his lips.

“Need something pet?” You nodded as words were lost to you the second Dan started to let himself lick and nibble at your neck and collar bones. You were going to need to purchase a scarf the next time you go out so if any fans saw you the hickeys you were receiving would be covered. “Hmm, think it’s about time I thank you for how much help you were at Vid Con.” You gave a little squeak before Dan pushed you against the chair so you were flat on your back. Dan had started to make his way to pull at your bottoms as he kissed his way down before your little voice stopped him.

“Wait. I want to watch.” Dan stood and moved over to the back of the chair where he made it so you could still lay comfortably but have a bit of a vantage point. Once situated Dan made his way back to what he was doing before. Letting himself take as much time as he wanted to slowly kiss his way back down from your forehead down to just under your belly button.

“Do you want this love?” You nodded looking down at him. “Say it. Say what you want.” You let out a deep breath before running one of your hands through his already dry hair.

“Please. I need your mouth on me.” Dan didn’t need much more instructions as he gave a final tug at the bottoms, letting them drop in the same place as your top on the wooden deck.

“That’s my girl.” You didn’t have much of a moment to respond as Dan was already licking and kissing at your thighs before being where you needed him the most. Dan changed his tempo of slow and thoughtful to ravaging. His tongue was swirling over your clit as two of his fingers found their way to your entrance. You would be a liar if you didn’t say that you weren’t already soaking wet. Dan always had a way to take over your body and make you want to melt to his touch. Dan slowly pushed his fingers in and out of you letting you get used to the feeling before he hastened his pace. With every stroke, he made sure to curl his finger slightly so he would be hitting your G-Spot. Any worries you ever had, any stresses about everything involving this trip seemed to melt away. You had the complete attention of Dan and nothing was better than this moment. As your hands tugged at Dan’s hair the familiar build up started deep inside of you. You were trying your hardest to keep your moans quiet just in-case someone decided to wonder to your side of the beach. As you got closer to your impending orgasm, however, the worry of someone catching the two of you was pushed back as the waves of pleasure ran over you. Leaving you with goosebumps Dan continued to pump in out of you and lick as he let you ride your orgasm through. Once the waves were done Dan let a trail of kisses down your thighs and then up to give you a quick kiss where you could taste yourself on him. Dan’s smile said it all as he gets nearly as much pleasure from giving you oral as much as you do from him.

“Thank you.” You said pulling Dan in for another kiss.

“Shall we go inside and get out of the sun to see if we can get another one out of you?” You nodded shyly as Dan got up from the chair and stretched a hand out to you. “I just ate you out on the beach and your acting all shy now?” You nodded taking his hand.

“I can’t help that you still give me butterflies sometimes.” Dan pulled you into his chest giving you a kiss on your head.

“You spork. Come. Wouldn’t want you to get a burn. Those are even more unsightly than tan lines.”

#danisnotonfire #dan howell #danisnotonfire imagine #danisnotonfire x reader #dan howell imagine #dan howell x reader #danisnotonfire smut #dan howell smut #danisnotonfire x reader smut #daniel howell smut

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