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tojiaesth · 3 years

Text

boyfriend

gojo satoru x f!reader

summary: you and gojo had some sort of unspoken agreement in which you refused to adhere to labels and instead chose to have fun. except neither of you would ever admit the hold you had on each other.

warning: heavy smut, 18 +, minors dni, fingering, oral (fem receiving), rough handling of reader, marking, dom!gojo, sub!reader, choking/breath play, overstim, raw sex, tummy bulge, ?slight breeding kink, jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

tags: college au, fratboy!gojo, friends with benefits, unlabelled relationships, bisexual!gojo, bisexual!reader, fluff at the end <3

A/N: inspired by ariana herself <3 so i recommend at least listening to the song before you read, if you’re like me and can’t read and listen :p

It was loud. That was the first thing you picked up on before you even entered the sweaty house. Your friends begged you to come, as if there weren’t parties every week and missing one would change the world. You struggled to find a parking space, choosing to walk the rest of the way. The deafening thump of bass could be heard a few blocks down and you wondered how there was never any noise complaints.

Satoru probably threw money at them.

You smiled, it was such a him thing to do. The cold air nipped at your dress, having left your coat in your car. You had chosen to wear an emerald green satin body con dress that stopped mid thigh. It accompanied a criss cross pattern that exposed your back. You first saw it online and had fallen in love, it partly being the reason why you had said yes. You wanted him to see you in the dress, already craving the dark look in his eyes when he was turned on.

Gojo Satoru, college senior, with his charismatic personality had a very big presence at the college. Almost never alone and surrounded by a group of admirers, both men and women fell at his feet. If someone had told you back in your first year that you’d be sleeping with this man on the regular you’d think they were crazy. He honestly, despite being very handsome, was not your kind of man. Too pretty, very cocky and had serious commitment issues, bedding half the campus. But it had started at the beginning of the year, your friendship groups overlapping as you had grown close with Suguru Getou and Shoko Ieiri having been studying the same subject. You found yourself around him a lot, eventually going out with just each other and things quickly progressed.

Soon enough he was between your thighs, lapping at your cunt with fervour and sucking gently on your clit, two slender fingers hitting that spot. He did that a lot, seeming to relish in the way you fell apart on his tongue, your slippery walls pulsating as you softly said his name like a prayer. He’d nonchalantly get up, sometimes not even asking for anything in return and it surprised you. You pegged him as more of a receiver than a giver but it suited you fine.

You became pretty popular on campus as you hung out with them, attending parties and making life long friendships. You usually weren’t someone who slept around, but that quickly changed. So did your care for a steady relationship. You were 21, life was short, you had a great body and a pretty face, opting to have fun.

You found yourself caught in Gojo’s trap, legs wound around his waist on a weekly basis, his hard cock driving into you with such force you thought you’d break. Your legs clenched just thinking about it, a thin layer of slickness coating your panties.

Your thoughts were brought back to reality when you entered the frat house, NalinA by Block B was being blasted at full volume through the house and you already felt a course of excitement run through your veins. You couldn’t wait to let loose and find your friends. The house, just short of a mansion, had been decorated with l.e.d lights, a soft red and blue glow painting your skin. There was alcohol everywhere, sweaty bodies and the strong smell of weed.

“Y/N! Over here.” You looked over to see the majority of your friends on a sofa, catching sight of Satoru with a girl on his lap. His hand was caressing her ass, as she pouted saying something to him. She was pretty, and you tried your best not to care. Their faces were sweaty, with cups in their hands, indicating they had stopped dancing. You walked in their direction, plopping yourself next to the person behind the voice.

“Hey Mei-Mei. You look hot.” You said casually and she automatically pulled you to sit on her knee. You smiled and took her cup, whatever bitter liquid sliding down your throat. You and Mei were another short lived fling, sleeping together a handful of times and besides Satoru, no one else could compare to that sinful mouth of hers. A queen at teasing, she brought her hand to your waist and lightly began tracing shapes with her fingers.

“You look hot, that dress is making me want to do things to you.”

You chuckled as you stared at each other, tensions running high as the song changed to one you were familiar with. You wanted to dance.

“God, please make out.”

You ignored the annoying comment from Sukuna who was sat diagonally from you, blatantly checking you out. You told him to shut up, your mouth twitching as he looked completely unfazed. Looking away, you ran your fingers through Mei’s soft hair,

“Come, let’s dance.” You whispered, breath hot on her ear as she shivered. You loved how easily you could fluster Mei, knowing the more you worked her up the more she’d punish you for it later.

You both got up and your arms were grabbed by Shoko,

“We’re coming, we’d rather not watch Sukuna hunt for a girl like an animal or Gojo practically fuck in front of us.” She said, shuddering and dragging a very amused Getou. Your eyes flickered to Satoru, finding that he was already watching you. The girl was now straddling him and the buttons on his shirt looked undone, his hands rubbing circles on her thighs. He refused to break eye contact with you, kissing her neck as she moaned, smirking as you looked away, grasping Mei’s hand.

You don’t know what he was trying to do, but it pissed you off. It annoyed you more that he’d groan in your ear some nights, grabbing your neck and claiming you were his and his only. Not wanting you to touch or look at anyone else. The next morning? Business as usual as he was all over some girl. You deducted that him saying those things to you were just in the heat of the moment, recalling how your clit would throb as he would rub slow circles, staking his claim. You liked how possessive he could get, the rough sex, and how occasionally he’d surprise you with a gift. All without having to actually be in a relationship.

You didn’t care about labels and neither did he. So why? Why did his eyes say, he wanted you to get jealous? You sighed, these mind games and mixed signals were your least favourite part of Satoru.

The beginning of an all too familiar riff began to thump through the walls and you all squealed in delight. As ‘Do I Wanna Know’ began you swayed your hips and lip synced, literally letting your hair down as Mei came up behind you. Shoko began recording you without your knowledge, watching as your head fell onto Mei’s shoulder, her hands ghosting around the space between your breasts, purposefully ignoring how your nipples hardened as she whispered something lewd into your ear.

“She’s gonna kill you if you post that.” Suguru watched as Shoko posted the video to her story, her eyes shining with amusement as almost instantly people replied asking who you were.

Satoru on the other hand could not take his eyes off of you. He studied you as you wrapped your arms around Mei and he was exasperated. She was addictive, he thought, those pouty and full lips had a hold on him, his dick twitched thinking about them wrapped around him. Her body was something else, those breasts of hers heaving against her dress. Shit. He almost got hard. The girl currently giving him a hickey was just not doing it for him. In fact no girl or guy was, he had tried countless times only his encounters with Y/N fulfilling his desires. In spite of that, he would not tell her this, not wanting to ruin the game of cat and mouse they had going.

“Satoru, let’s go somewhere.” The girl whined, hips grinding against his crotch. He suddenly got up and pushed her off of him,

“Nah, not in the mood. I’m sure Sukuna would be interested. He has a habit of going after my sloppy seconds.” Gojo snapped, sick of the way he was gazing at you, eyes darkened with lust.

He ignored the girls cuss words directed at him as she stormed off and Sukuna snickered, looking up from his phone.

“She’s fuckable but I have my eye on something else tonight.” He thrust his phone in Satoru’s face, only to be met with Shoko’s story, full of Y/N dancing suggestively.

He willed himself not to show anger and hummed,

“Like you could pull her.” His voice dripping with fake amusement as Sukuna tensed in irritation.

Satoru walked in the direction of his friends, still dancing crazily and singing very out of tune to ‘Kiss me more’, you were now dancing with Suguru and laughing loudly as he tried to attempt some sort of dance move so terribly, Satoru could not decipher what it was supposed to be. Your lips were glossy, eyes twinkling as he picked you up and twirled you around, ribs hurting from laughing so much. You never laughed that much with him.

Satoru pursed his lips, he was just so irritated. Suguru put you down when the song finished and you fixed his hair that your arm had messed up,

“Your hairs gone so long now, I love it.” You said cheerily, fingers twirling on a stray strand as Suguru bent down slightly so he could hear you over the music.

“It suits you.” You stated softly, unable to look away from his intuitive eyes. The lights were casting a glow across his face, bringing his jaw to attention as you traced it slowly. He was a different kind of handsome you thought, more your type than Satoru was and you thought about how his eyes were a warm brown, compared to Satoru’s cerulean ones. You scolded yourself internally for still finding ways to think about Satoru, you just couldn’t shake him.

Suguru smirked and focused on the feeling of your hands, now running through his hair and eventually resting on the back of his neck. You smelt so good, he thought, he wanted to kiss you. He leaned down and you realised his intentions, your hands paused on his biceps that were coated in tattoos. As you closed your eyes, thoughts wild and slightly clouded by the shots you did with Shoko, you braced yourself to kiss the god-like man that was Getou Suguru, pulse racing.

“Y/N!” Your head automatically snapped at your name being called, sheepishly looking at Suguru whose eyes were now filled with something you couldn’t quite figure out. Satoru was in front of you both, promptly grabbing your hand and dragging you away. Eyes bewildered you looked back at Suguru who looked entertained at the whole situation. You found yourself at the focus of everyone’s stares, all curious as to why Gojo had a dark look in his eyes.

“Satoru, what the fuck? Let go-“ His large hands were gripping your smaller ones hard, uncomfortably squishing your fingers together. He said nothing, back to you as he hauled you up the stairs and into his room. His door slammed as you stumbled into the dimly lit room, turning around in utter confusion at Gojo’s behaviour.

“Fuck, what is your problem?” You were enraged at how he just did what he pleased with you and how you just let him. You massaged your wrist, now slightly red at Satoru’s force.

“Why the fuck would you try and kiss him? Seriously, Suguru? You’re such a fucking whore.” Gojo clenched his jaw, finding himself even angrier at the thought of you underneath Suguru, moaning, sweat dripping off your backs.

You were baffled. A whore?

“Firstly, you’re literally the definition of a whore and secondly, why the fuck do you care?!” You stepped closer to him, cheeks flushed in anger at Satoru’s audacity,

“You have no fucking right to care about who I fuck. Got it? You’re not my boyfriend.”

Satoru moved closer to you, your nose in line with his chest as the man’s eyes changed suddenly. For once, he had no comeback or witty remark, you were right but he’d had enough. Just the thought of his best friend between your legs snapped him into action and he had to come to terms with his feelings. His fingers lifted your chin, your eyes willing itself not to melt at his touch, goosebumps already littering your arm. He silently moved to your lips, thumb pressing against your mouth, encouraging you to open.

You were so unbelievably confused, this man blew hot and cold. One minute so angry he couldn’t speak and then next initiating a kiss.

“Satoru-“

His lips were against yours before you had time to think, furiously pressing against them and swiping his tongue across. You relaxed into his touch and opened your mouth. His tongue found yours in an instant and lightly sucked it, your breathless moans pleasuring his senses as his hands pulled your body closer to him. He explored your body, cupping your ass while you simultaneously wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers drowning in his soft white locks. Eventually he pulled away, cupping your face gently like you were a porcelain doll,

“I don’t want you to see anyone else or kiss them like that. I’m not playing any more games. You’re mine.” He stated firmly, blue eyes framed by his ash coloured lashes, gazing into your soul.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tease him. Gojo...was serious. All those extra knowing glances you’d give each other, the fiery arguments, the passionate sex, the pang of jealousy at his lips on another girls neck and the way his eyes would linger a little too long when you spoke to a guy, you realised the both of you were stupid. Too busy trying to convince yourselves you didn’t care you both buried your thoughts away, afraid to articulate them in case you were rejected.

You found yourself repeating after him, his eyes almost hypnotising you as you stuttered,

“I-i’m yours.”

Satoru lightly kissed you on the lips and motioned you to jump up, supporting your legs as you wrapped them securely around his waist. He gingerly placed you on his bed, hovering over you as his hands slowly rid up your leg, ghosting around your inner thigh and you suppressed a moan. His touch was magnetic, something as simple as stroking your thigh with Satoru becomes so much more, a tingly sensation jolting through you when his hands brushed between your clothed folds. Meanwhile he began kissing his way down, starting with your neck and sucking furiously at the spot above your collarbone. You mewled against him as he licked the now marked spot, your hips desperately finding his to grind against.

“Patience, baby. I’m taking my time with you.”

You whined at his remark, you just needed him inside you, now.

“Such a whiny brat.” His voice slipped through your ears like silk as he slowly slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders, the new stimuli adding to the experience. You were never more glad to have not worn a bra. He focused on your exposed breasts, nipples hard and swollen and he groaned at the sight.

A warm sensation reached your nipples and you cried out in pleasure, looking down at Satoru lapping up your soft mounds. His seductive gaze ripped through you as he began to trace slow circles with his tongue. His fingers kept your other breast occupied, rolling around your left nipple with his fingers, constantly switching sides and worshipping them.

His attention switched to your lower stomach, kissing your skin with affection as you anticipated his lips between your thighs. You could feel the damp spot slowly spreading on your panties and the swell of your clit, begging to be touched.

“Fuck, Satoru you tease.” You breathed out in gaspy moans, he had completely removed your dress by now and was blowing warm breaths against your knickers. Satoru brought a single digit to rub against the wet spot, moaning as he felt the tent in his pants. He loved teasing you but it required self control, wanting nothing more than to release his large cock from its restraints and into your warm hole, throbbing at the thought.

He finally pulled your panties to the side at your delight and your whimpers filled the room as his fingers brushed against your soaked clit. He played around with your pussy, stroking up and down and noting the creamy juices that were flowing out your hole. The sight of his fingers coated in your juices and he almost came right there. The lewd squelching of your cunt was slightly covered up by your cries of pleasure as he entered two slender fingers inside you, stimulating your sensitive walls. He reached down and took your clit into his mouth, humming at the taste.

“F-fuck, right there Toru” You moaned, attempting to wriggle but Satoru quickly used his arms to clamp your thighs into place, his sensual mouth causing white dots to appear in your vision. Your stomach fluttered at the slow, familiar build up of your climax, not even embarrassed that he had only been eating you out for five minutes. You were just so sensitive today and paired with Satoru laying claim to you, your body was responding to each and every one of his touches.

“Ah, k-keep going baby, fuck. You’re so good at it.” The praises fell from your lips as the deep pleasure in your stomach changed, indicating you were near.

Satoru was persistent, his insatiable need to feel your cunt quiver against his tongue caused him to add one more digit, scissoring his fingers against your gummy walls. He could feel you frantically clenching, chuckling at his inability to move as fast as his fingers were in a death trap. He kept his eyes on you, watching as your hand came up to your mouth to stifle your sobs, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“I’m close.” You whispered and you made a mistake of looking down at Satoru, his tongue was pressing down against your sensitive nub, saliva dripping onto his bed. His fingers went even faster, determined to make you cum.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me princess.”

That was all you needed. You legs squeezed frantically against his head, the euphoric sensations causing your back to refuse to rest against the bed. Satoru paid no mind to your repetitive whimpers as you began to come down from your high, his lips still stubbornly attached to your clit. It was too much, the previously pleasurable feel was now borderline painful, his sticky fingers removing themselves from your cunt.

You legs jolted occasionally each time he purposely grazed the bundle of nerves, continuing his efforts by using his tongue to tease around the now sensitive area, chuckling when your hips wriggled.

“Delicious.” His velvety tongue swiped his lips and he brought his fingers into your mouth. The tangy but familiar taste of your undoings were accompanied by his soft fingers, swirling around your tongue until your saliva created a mess.

“Shit, you’re so hot.” He groaned, the twitching of his cock was unrelenting. You pressed your legs together, the achy feeling of need returning. Reaching to kiss him, your hands started to undo his belt buckle,

“I want you.” You whispered, unable to look away from his eyes.

His lecherous eyes stared back at you, his fingers curling around your back as he brought you closer, now hovering above you.

“I want you too.”

In one swift movement, his cock was freed and he entered you, the new feeling causing you to cry out as he slowly bottomed out.

“Shit, you’re clenching like crazy baby.”

You couldn’t even reply, his thick shaft splitting you open, Satoru stared down at how you sucked him in, a creamy ring of your juices at the base of his cock. You felt him harden even more, he hadn’t wasted any time by helping you adjust. He started a rough pace, watching your perky tits bounce as he reached down and placed a nipple into his mouth. You were truly addicting, he thought, your whimpers becoming louder with the sticky sound of your cunt. Your pussy seemed to fit him like a glove, Satoru’s eyes wandered towards your soft tummy, at the faint bulge of his devouring and his eyes widened, using a hand to press against it and his ears welcomed your high pitched gasps.

“What’s the matter baby girl?” He cooed, chuckling at your stifled sobs and flushed cheeks.

“‘is too much...” You managed, barely able to communicate as he fucked you dumb.

You were so sexy, he thought.

You scooted away, his rough movements almost resulting in your head banging against the headboard but without missing a beat Satoru pulled you back, cock sinking into you with a new sensation.

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You’re gonna lie there and take it.”

His hands ghosted at your waist, using the soft tissue as a grip as he forcefully used your body, eyes unable to look away at how you took his thick, veiny member. Your pussy twitched as he licked a stripe at the side of your neck,

“Oh...you like that?” He muttered, sucking on your weak spot, he groaned when you tightened against him, knowing the tip of his cock was red and angry, your walls were too much.

You blink, eyes glossy and lips swollen from his kisses, Satoru’s marks were littered across your body, evidence of his ravishing as he continued his strong pace, cock driving into you with hunger. Your moans changed pitch,

“t’s...too much...can’t...too big.” You babbled, a new, insurmountable pleasure was ripping into your stomach.

“It’s too big?,”

Satoru wrapped his slender fingers around your neck, pressing down lightly as he smirked,

“I know.”

Your breath was slowly snatched from you as he gripped your neck harder, it somehow heightening the feeling of him around your cunt. His groans were turning you on, you always loved how vocal Satoru was.

Satoru paid attention to you, removing his hands and watching as you gasped for breaths. He grinned at how crazy your pussy went whenever he did that, he had really met his match. His cock twitched, indicating his nearing climax and you creamed shamelessly around him when his thumb lightly brushed your rosy clit. Your legs had gone to jelly at this point, but you securely clamped them around Satoru’s waist, bringing him even closer as your eyes closed in pleasurable agony.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” The way you cried and babbled nonsense, mouth messy with saliva as you drooled around his fingers, Satoru pressed at the pad of your tongue, cerulean eyes gleaming at where you connected. As he sinked into you again and again, the intemperate need to feel you squirt around him, he took your soft mounds into his mouth once more and before he knew it, you let out a long, drawn out moan as you found your release.

The white hot pleasure against your stomach snapped and as you orgasmed for the second time, a new warm sensation splashed against Satoru’s cock. Your juices dripped onto the bed, your pussy quivering and legs shaking as you rode it out.

“Fuck.” His azure eyes twinkled with amazement and you didn’t think he could possibly get any harder, as his member remained snug against your cunt.

Satisfied at your mess and how your slimy walls squeezed so torturously against him, Satoru’s own release was not far behind. With one last sound of pleasure, another warm feeling filled your pussy, spurts of the familiar white liquid spilling out of you as he slowed down his thrusts, emptying his balls into you with his repeated moans.

He pulled out, watching the results of his orgasm dribble onto his sheets. Using his fingers, he pushed the remaining liquid deep into you as a low moan escaped your lips. He brought his coated fingers to your mouth, and you licked them clean, humming against him.

As he hovered over you, his captivating eyes caught in the moonlight peaking through the curtains, illuminating his spacious room. He was so beautiful, you thought, mind now unclouded as your high disappeared. Instead, a lighter but warm feeling fluttered through you as Satoru bent down to give you butterfly kisses across your stomach.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered and he felt you smile against the top of his head, white tendrils tickling your nose as he placed himself on your tummy, careful not to crush you.

A comfortable silence lingered in the air, for the first time neither of you needed to fill it in with pointless words. You stroked his hair, content that he was still here and showing you affection even after sex, a concept new to the both of you.

After some time, with the both of you deep in thought about each other, Satoru’s head lifted and he made eye contact with you.

“I meant what I said earlier. I know this is new to the both of us so we can take it slow and I’ll probably fuck things up a few times but...I really do care about you, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened, as he glanced nervously at you. You had never seen him so vulnerable before and somehow it made you like him even more.

You extended your arm, your fingers tapping against his cheek,

“I care about you a lot too, Satoru. More than I’d like to admit.” You looked away, confused at how quickly the atmosphere changed from the desperate grappling of hands against skin to soft eyes and shy kisses. You were shy around him. You really did care about him but you also weren’t the best at articulating your thoughts, Satoru was always one upping you with his smooth talking.

His smile softened before his eyes changed, amusement dancing across his face.

“Well why wouldn’t you like me? I’m amazing.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, his hands grabbing you and placing warm kisses around your neck. You melted into his touch, only now realising he hadn’t even properly undressed, unlike you who was completely bare.

He paused as you wriggled uncomfortably in the messy and slightly damp sheets, the both of you a tangle of limbs.

“Is this a bad time to ask if you’re on the pill?”

You stared at him.

“You are such an idiot.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you

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teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader

a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess

warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n

word count: 3k

UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay

here’s pt 2 loves <3

- - -

y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention?

this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.)

she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely.

it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed.

it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end.

her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended.

bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right?

y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting?

heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care?

tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for.

y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating.

“you’re staring again.”

y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything.

“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard.

“so it makes you look creepy.”

“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.”

kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?”

“excuse me?”

kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.”

y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics.

he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.”

“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.”

he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though?

y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur.

“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again.

the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out.

the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance.

during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him.

mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n.

y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music.

friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them.

class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all.

y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance.

bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile.

she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red.

the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place.

bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.)

he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time.

instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape.

it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up.

as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up.

a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging.

whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder.

he swung the door open, hinges crying out.

bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted.

his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.”

“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?”

oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-”

“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?”

“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-”

“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?”

“no. shut up. i need to-”

“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?”

“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?”

“well, you’re just being shitty.”

“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them.

“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.”

“no.”

“please?”

“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-”

“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?”

bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips.

“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.”

he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place.

tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.

“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?”

“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back.

“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.”

“who the hell are you talking about?”

“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.”

“...y/n?”

“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?”

“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.”

“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.”

“shithead, get out of my face.”

“you still have to go out with me.”

“why the f-”

“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.”

“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?”

y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s.

he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets.

kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door.

“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone.

“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible.

“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin.

“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more.

y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room.

it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways.

kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them.

y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through.

between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer.

bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him.

“you okay?”

y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?”

“you seem on edge. is something wrong?”

“nothing. nothing is wrong.”

“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.”

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.”

“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin.

“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along.

“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?”

“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.”

gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.”

heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?”

kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder.

this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.

kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable.

when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy.

of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring.

tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve.

y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough.

despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage.

“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry.

“just running errands together.”

bakugou? going for errands? with tokage?

“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space.

impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue.

y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist.

“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back.

“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.”

“good.”

“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual.

“do you think i fight okay? i need someone with a perspective like yours to know if i do.”

“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.”

tokage let out a low growl.

y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.”

ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from?

bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.”

y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close.

feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes.

it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this.

“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?”

“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw.

“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.”

tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face.

tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.”

y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.”

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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years

Text

Nosy

Summary: The team notices Bucky sneaking off the compound every weekend. Now they’re standing outside of an apartment in Brooklyn while Redwing spies out the window.

Warnings: Language, smut, sex tape, daddy kink

Pairings: Bucky x Black!Reader

(A/N: This is a rewrite of Bucky’s Secret Life because 😬. Anyway enjoy. Likes and reblogs are great thanks.)

“C’mon, aren’t you a little curious?”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes as Tony nudged him. Bucky had been acting a little stranger than usual. If they didn’t have a mission he was leaving in the evening on Friday to come home Sunday nights. This had become a weekly basis kind of thing to the point where he didn’t even show up to parties unless it was something completely mandatory.

It’s not like Steve had never asked him about it. Bucky was his best friend and of course he was curious why he was so hush hush. He hadn’t been expecting for him to freeze up and stutter his way around giving him any details.

It was killing Sam the most because of course he was nosey as hell and between the three of them, he hated not being in the know. Natasha was even curious. Wanda kind of knew, but that’s because she couldn’t help the things she saw. Besides it wasn’t her place to tell.

Because what Wanda had been seeing when she’d get a glimpse into his mind were filthy. Absolutely fucking filthy. The images flashing into her mind of him and the same naked woman that he was doing unspeakable things to. It played like porn, but they were clearly memories. She stayed quiet because it was none of her business.

“Why don’t we mind our own business,” Bruce suggested. “Bucky’s been through a lot. Maybe he’s just unwinding.”

“Bruce is right.” Steve smiled at the scientist, appreciative at him for speaking up.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, shrugging her shoulders. “Is he, though?” She replied. “What if he’s doing something dangerous. He could still be having issues.”

“True,” Rhodey finally giving his input from his spot at the table beside Tony. “We would rather be safe than sorry.”

Steve groaned. “Fine.”

Steve reluctantly trailed behind Natasha, Sam, and Tony as they followed Bucky the next weekend. They went about their day as normal as possible. They didn’t want him to get suspicious. As soon as he’d left they had Friday give them the word so they could make their move after. Sam had even had Redwing follow after him.

“Guys, Bruce is right. We should leave it alone,” Steve tried to reason with them as they’d finally ended up outside of an apartment in Brooklyn.

“No,” Sam said, as they tried to act nonchalant waiting for someone to open up the door. “We’re here let’s do this.”

Bucky placed his hands underneath your ass, balancing himself as he rammed into you. Your hands were splayed above your head as you took it. For someone who literally couldn’t get drunk he found something so intoxicating with the way your breasts bounced with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to capture your nipple in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the brown nub.

You could feel yourself getting so close, but you weren’t allowed to come without permission. Since you weren’t in the mood to be punishes you obeyed him. You wanted to be a good girl for him this weekend after the way he’d made it hard for you to sit after you acted like a brat last time.

You’d made dinner, but it had been abandoned in favor of him dicking you down. He just couldn’t wait any longer to have your tight pussy wrapped around his dick. The plan was supposed to be a romantic evening with a home-cooked meal like you usually did on Friday nights. Saturday’s were usually for junk food as you spent the day either binge watching shows and fucking. It was the routine when he wasn’t busy with work.

It sucked that it felt like you’d never have a life outside of this apartment, but Bucky only needed a little bit longer. He needed to make sure there was nothing that could hurt you once your relationship became public. He’d seen to many romances end in tragedy and it scared him. He’d be damned if something bad happened to you.

His cock was stretching you wide open. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you moaned, leaning up so you could wrap your arms around his neck and then press your lips to his. He didn’t let up as he let you fall onto your back. He moved his hands from your ass to your legs to bring your knees to your chest.

He was so much deeper in this angle. Your head was swimmings you moaned into his ear, throwing your head back. “God, yes!”

“That’s it, Doll,” he moaned, leaning down to kiss you again. His tongue was in your mouth and you struggled to keep up because of how hard he was fucking you. Fuck you love it when you were at his mercy. In these moments it felt like he owned every inch of you.

The knock on the door brought the two of you out of your bubble. Bucky didn’t let up, though, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and leave when you didn’t answer. He needed to make his girl cum first. Whoever was on the other side could wait.

She nodded with a whimper, feeling too blissed-out to even do anything, except for what you were told. You were so close. The way you tightened around him. Pussy hugging his dick like it was afraid to let go. You whined as your juices seeped out of you.

“Can I cum?” You whimpered out.

“Yeah, Doll.” He grinned down at you through his pleasure. He couldn’t help himself. You were to damn cute like this. All spread open taking every inch of him. Those noises sounding so good coming out of your mouth as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You cried out, hips moving to meet his thrusts. That coil finally snapped in your stomach as you came around him. Metal wrapping around your neck while your fingernails dug into his back,

He was determined to make you cum again. Except there was another knock on the door. This one louder, angrier. Bucky groaned, irritated already at whoever was interrupting. “Fuck,” he mouthed, jaw clenching. “I’ll get it. You stay right here, okay.”

You nodded unable to use your words as he pulled out. He covered you with the duvet, kissing your forehead lovingly as if he hadn’t just rearranged your guts. He slid on a pair of sweats and a red t-shirt - yes he kept clothes at your apartment. It was easier so he didn’t have to pack anything. Besides he knew you were wearing his hoodies when he wasn’t around. Yes even though you spent most of your time together naked, it was just more convenient.

Your head was resting on your pillow as you watched him walk through the door with half-lidded eyes. A dopey smile had spread across your face, snuggling under the covers as you waiting for him to come back.

Bucky looked through the peephole, then backed up seeing Steve on the other side. “What the fuck...”

“Bucky, c’mon, we know you’re in there,” the blond said through the door.

“We?” He frowned before opening it, but not undoing the chain. He could peek out just enough to see Natasha who was standing beside him with a little bit of Sam behind her and what he assumed was Tony next to him by the sudden waft of Axe Body Spray. “What are you doing here?”

Tony huffed. “Just let us in.”

He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You guys should leave.”

“We’re just making sure you’re okay,” Nat said, trying to at least get a glimpse inside. It looked like a normal apartment, but Bucky’s body was blocking whatever else she could see.

“Gotta make sure you aren’t doing anything dumb,” Sam said.

“We were worried,” Natasha added.

Bucky scrunched up his face even more. “Worried about what?”

Just then you screamed from the bedroom. Bucky’s heart dropped as he heard you because if anything had ever happened to you he’d probably murder someone. His first thought was that they followed you which led to someone following them as he ran back to the bedroom.

You were standing there with one of your many throw blankets covering you. So you were okay. As he walked over to you, he grabbed your hand. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“There’s something in the window,” she breathed, now standing behind him for cover. Whatever it was, her super soldier serum, metal armed boyfriend could take care of it.

They finally felt victorious as Bucky fully opened the door. Until Redwing was thrown out. “Sam, what the fuck!”

“Hey!” The other man gasped, seeing his beloved bird on the ground before picking it up to cradle it into his arms.

“Who was that?” Natasha asked with a smirk on her face now.

“My girlfriend! I’ve been seeing someone! Is that a crime.” He threw his hands up. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to date.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and sighed. “See I told you guys this was stupid.”

Tony pouted, crossing his arms like he was disappointed. “I was so sure you were being brainwashed again. I was actually ready for a little action.”

“It’s not his brain being washed,” Sam said with a similar smirk to the one Natasha wore before frowning as he looked down at the slightly broken Redwing. Bucky wanted to hit him so bad.

“Baby, is everything okay?” You asked, walking into the room with wobbly legs after hearing her boyfriend raise his voice.You’d slipped on the matching sweatshirt to his sweatpants. It was really baggy. Hitting you mid-thigh. All he could think suddenly was that god you better be wearing panties. Or else you’ll be getting that punishment you’d been trying to avoid this weekend.

“Yeah, Doll. They were just leaving.” His face softened. Although you saw him in a sexy dominating way, you never saw him genuinely angry. Even the few times you’d argued he never even raised his voice. He was so afraid of scaring you away that when he was around he softened himself. So now that you were so close he had to show a little restraint.

“So, this is her!” Sam asked, surprised as hell at seeing that Bucky really was hiding a girlfriend. “Hi, I’m Sam and you are?”

“Y/N,” you replied, politely, offering up a small smile. Yet on the inside you actually wanted to run and hide. This was not apart of the plan for when you finally met everyone. Besides you probably looked like shit after what Bucky had just done to you.

“I’m Natasha!” The red head chirped so unlike herself leading the four men to look down at her like she’d grown another head.”This is Steve and Tony.”

It wasn’t very often that Tony Stark was speechless, but there he was as quiet as a mouse. All because the tin man had a girlfriend. A cute brown skinned girlfriend who was wearing his clothes.

“Doll, why don’t you wait for me in the room,” Bucky said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay, D- Bucky...” you caught yourself leaning over to kiss his cheek before doing as you were told.

He stared at her to make sure she got in the room before opening his mouth again. “Now will you leave. I’ll deal with you all and we can maybe have a team meeting about how important privacy is.” He glared at Tony who loved those little meetings about whoever was putting coffee grounds into the sink.

It was Vision.

Obviously.

At first.

Until it became a fun little game for everyone to do to irritate the shit out of him. It was terrible yes, but his reactions were so, so, so entertaining.

The three grumbled to each other as they started to walk away, while Steve stood there shaking his head. “Sorry about this, Buck. I told them to leave you alone, but you know how they can be.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed. “I was just hoping to keep her all to myself for a little while.”

“She seems nice,” he said.

“She’s amazing,” he had to stop himself from gushing about you because he hadn’t been able to before and he was pretty sure he could go on for hours.

Steve couldn’t help, but smile. “I’m glad to see you happy.” After all the shit Bucky had been through it was nice to see him adjusting.

The two finally said their goodbyes and Bucky finally got to shut the door. He went back to finish what he’d started with you, needing to make sure you were wearing panties under that sweatshirt before coming out to greet his friends. He knew you could be a little tease and you needed to be put in your place.

Steve jogged to catch up to his three nosey teammates who were almost out of the entrance of the building. He really was happy for Bucky. He deserved to be happy.

When they’d made their way back home, Sam decided to review the footage on Redwing while in the kitchen. At first, it was just the general views of him walking down the street and then the subway. “Well, at least we know Bucky is boring.”

Steve looked over his shoulder shrugging at the footage that was just Bucky walking to your place. “You should probably just delete it now.”

Sam fast-forwarded it as his friend got to your apartment, punching in the code to be let in. “I dunno, it’s kind of funny to see Bucky walking around like a normal person.”

“And, he never noticed Redwing??” Steve asked as Natasha came to peek with them.

“That’s kind of weird. I would think Bucky would be more aware of his surroundings,” she noted.

Sam shrugged. “Clearly no-” he stopped speaking as he saw what the camera had suddenly focused on.

“We should probably talk to him about that,” Natasha said, taking a bite out of her protein bar. “We should invite her here, though. It’d be nice to have another girl around. Me and Wanda get so bored listening to you guys sometimes.”

Sam’s mouth went into a straight-line while his eyes widened watching as you the women he’d only met for five minutes had gotten on her knees with Bucky’s metal hand grabbing you by the hair stuffing his cock down your throat. Your nose was pressed to his pelvis as he held you there before he started fucking your mouth.

“What is it?” Steve asked, quickly noticing how silent Sam went.

Natasha leaned over to take another look at Sam’s screen just as Bucky had pulled you off to toss you on the bed and smack your ass. “What the... Sam! Delete it!” She gasped seeing Bucky impale you with his cock from behind, smacking your ass again.

You were very clearly enjoying how rough he was being with you as you bounced back against him, arching your back so you could take it.

“I’m trying! It’s not letting me!”

“What is it?” Steve asked, now looking again himself, seeing you the women he’d just met being fucking railed by his best friend. Bucky was saying something that they couldn’t make out, but the way he’d stopped moving only for you to buck back against him, it must have been absolutely filthy. “What the hell!”

“I didn’t know!”

“Make sure it gets deleted.” Steve sounded so exhausted. If they’d listened to him in the first place this wouldn’t have even happened.

“I’m trying!” He repeated, pressing different buttons on the panel.

“It’s kind of hot actually,” Natasha surprised them with saying. “I wasn’t really expecting Bucky to be like this.”

“What were you expecting?” Sam asked stopping to look at Natasha with his face all scrunched up.

Neither of them had ever seen her blush, but there she was. Face almost as red as her hair. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about him since the Red Room.”

“Wait, what?” Both of them asked, but Natasha had already started to walk away from them as if she hadn’t even said anything. Or like she hadn’t just seen a video of Bucky fucking you raw. They didn’t see the glazed over look in her eyes as she let her imagination run wild.

“What’d you guys f-” Tony asked, right when Bucky had flipped you onto your back with his hands under your ass, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. “What... the fuck... actually... wow...”

“I know. I think I might ask Bucky if she has a sister or something.”

“All of you are monsters,” Steve said. Inside he was very intrigued, but he wasn’t about to say that outloud. “Make sure it gets deleted.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a sighed.

“Captain Buzzkill.” Tony pouted.

#Bucky Barnes smut #bucky barnes x black!reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #Sebastian Stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan x black!reader

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ineffable-snowman · 3 years

Text

And here’s my second Sambucky fic. You can read it here or on AO3.

Pet Psychopath

“Him? Really?”

Sam and Sarah were both glancing towards where Bucky was grinding the boat’s side with sandpaper with the single-minded focus of the Winter Soldier on a mission.

“I know I have a problem,” Sam said before Sarah could start to berate him for falling for yet another sad white soldier.

“You sure do.” Sarah shook her head, still eyeing Bucky warily. “At least Steve was pretty.”

True. Although Steve used to have terrible fashion sense, he was easy on the eyes and Sam suspected that half of the Avengers and at least half of America had had a crush on Cap at one time, so there was no reason to judge him for that. Bucky however, with his scruffy face and that murderous glare, was another matter. Sam judged himself for whatever feelings were creeping up on him.

“You should have seen him before he got a haircut,” he told Sarah.

“I did. Because his mugshot was all over the news. Jesus, Sam.”

Sam shrugged. The fact that Bucky was (or rather had been) a criminal was not what bothered him. After having been imprisoned in the Raft, he did not give a shit about what the government declared legal or illegal. He trusted in his common sense. Right now, his common sense told him that it was a fundamentally bad idea to develop feelings for Bucky Barnes. He had no idea how this catastrophe had happened, could not pinpoint the exact moment when Bucky had turned from a threat into a pity case into a nuisance into a reluctant co-worker and finally into someone Sam brought into his sister’s house and entrusted with his late parents’ boat.

“Right. I don’t know if I should hope for him to return your feelings or pray that he doesn’t.”

Truth be told, Sam hadn’t figured that out yet either. Bucky was thoughtless at best, often outright ignorant, petty and self-centred, not to mention reckless, irresponsible, a bad co-worker, and he did not like Redwing. And there wasn’t exactly a charming personality to make up for all these failures. It did not make sense for Sam to fall for him, and yet it perfectly did. Yes, Sam was fully aware he had a problem, had first come to suspect it when his parents had told him with constipated looks on their faces that, “No, Sam, we can’t bring every injured seagull to the vet.” It had been confirmed over the years when the teachers had asked him to look after the new kid in class or try to include the outsider and he had been unable to say no. Sam knew enough about psychology to know that pity was not a good basis for a relationship. He knew that and it didn’t change anything. Sharon calling Bucky a ‘pet psychopath’ seemed frighteningly accurate. (However, he heavily resented the implication that Zemo somehow shared ownership rights. Because it was Sam who constantly looked after Bucky, not Zemo. It was Sam Bucky followed around, not Zemo).

“Whatever.” Sam took the saw and jumped into the boat. “He’s useful for repair work.” Then he got to work helping his pet psychopath. He sawed planks of wood into smaller pieces to replace the dilapidated pieces on the boat.

After one hour, his shirt was drenched in sweat. Bucky was still grinding with the sandpaper, his movements like a machine. There was only the barest sheen of sweat on his forehead.

After another hour, Sam’s right hand cramped up. He dropped the saw and leaned against the side of the boat.

“How do you feel about a break? That something you do?”

“If you insist.”

Sam snorted. He could not believe he had to put up with this bullshit again. Damn supersoldiers. And yet he tried to engage Bucky in small talk.

“What do you think, how long until we’re finished?” He grabbed a bottle of water and threw Bucky a second one.

“Depends on how many breaks you need.” Bucky opened his bottle and kept staring at Sam while drinking it, never once blinking. Unbelievable.

“You keep this up, I might just throw you overboard.”

Bucky put the bottle down. He was still staring at Sam. “You can try.”

“Oh, so this is what we’re doing?” Sam’s heart was suddenly racing. There was no chance in hell that he could beat Bucky. But backing down from a challenge? Never.

“You talk big, Wilson, but I don’t see you acting on it,” Bucky taunted him.

There was no going back now. Sam was not entirely sure what Bucky was suggesting here but throwing his water bottle away and grabbing Bucky in a headlock seemed the appropriate choice of action.

Not that he succeeded for long. Bucky easily freed himself and proceeded to try to wrestle Sam down. Sam could tell that Bucky was pulling his punches because if he had used his full super strength, Sam would be on the floor by now. On the one hand, he was touched that Bucky was considerate enough at least in this situation and seemed to want to have fun with Sam, on the other, he wouldn’t have minded being on the floor. With Bucky on top of him. God, he was such a mess.

“That all you got?” Bucky said, grinning evilly.

Sam couldn’t help but snort in amusement. He was always glad to see Bucky happy, even though a grin made him look even more like a psychopath.

“You ain’t seen-aaaaaaaaaaaaa-”

It happened too fast to do anything and yet Sam experienced everything in slow-motion. A huge wave rocked the boat to one side. Sam, who was just about to back away from one of Bucky’s attacks, lost his footing and stepped on the water bottle. While falling, he caught sight of the stern of the fast ferry, and his mother’s words echoed in his mind, Always pay attention to the fast ferry. Then he was finally on the floor and shit, that hurt! He exclaimed a string of curses and then he finally saw what had caused the pain: he had landed on the saw which was now stuck in the back of his right thigh. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, ignored Bucky’s “Don’t!” and quickly tore it out with another string of curse words.

Suddenly there was blood. A lot of blood. Blood streaming out of his thigh, drenching his pant leg. Not good. Not good at all. Too much blood. Over the loud rushing and pounding in his ears, he heard Bucky call him an idiot and then he passed out.

When he came back, he felt pleasantly woozy, warm and well-rested. The next thing he noticed was the smell of leather, paint and sweat under his nose. He blinked his eyes open. His head was cushioned on a leather jacket and he was lying on his left, still on the boat, which gently rocked from side to side. Going back to sleep seemed like a good idea.

“Are you back?” came Bucky’s voice from behind him.

“Mm.” Then he noticed that he wasn’t wearing any pants. Huh. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“I’m stitching you back up.”

“You what?” Suddenly the pleasant wooziness was gone.The searing pain came back and so did the awareness of what had just happened – of what was happening right now. He tried to sit up but Bucky’s vibranium arm grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“Don’t move. I’m almost done.”

“What are you doing?” Sam really hoped he had misheard, but no –

“Stitching you back up,” Bucky repeated stoically, sounding somewhat distracted.

“Why?”

“It’s a big wound. You lost a lot of blood.”

“How -? Stop that!”

“It’s fine, I’ve done this before.”

“What, like in the 40s?!”

“…yes.”

“You know we have surgeons for this, right?”

“I’m faster.”

“I swear to you, if you’ve used dirty needles on me or fishbones or whatever…!”

“Didn’t you get your tetanus shot?”

“Oh my God, you did, didn’t you?”

“No. I found a first aid kit. It looked a bit old but seems to be good.”

“Seems to be?! You should have at least asked me before you decided to operate on me!”

“You were unconscious and bleeding,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. “There, done. Not bleeding anymore.” Bucky appeared in his line of vision. There was blood on both hands, his shirt and even his pants. There was also a lot of blood on the floor around Sam.

“I want to go to the hospital and have someone competent check if you’ve butchered my leg.”

“Fine. But let me dress the wound first.”

“Okay.” Sam turned back around and let Bucky do whatever he thought needed to be done. Sam wasn’t usually squeamish, he had been in the army and seen much worse. But waking up to someone stitching you up with probably outdated surgical tools? Not cool.

“When I’m back from the hospital, you and I are going to have a long talk about bodily autonomy.”

“You can schedule it right after the talk about workplace safety. Because letting a saw lie around like that? Just no.”

Sam had to concede that was a fair point, so he kept his mouth shut. When Bucky had finished wrapping a thick bandage around Sam’s thigh, he helped Sam up. He was wobbly on his legs, still feeling lightheaded from the blood loss, and his right leg was doing weird things.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked the most superfluous question ever.

“Take a wild guess.” Sam clung to Bucky and somehow they manoeuvred him out of the boat and he hobbled back to Sarah’s house.

Sarah screamed when she saw them.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Sam said quickly. What it looked like was: Sam in just his boxer shorts with a thick bandage around his right leg, leaning heavily on Bucky, and both of them covered in blood from head to toe. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t let the boys see you like this!” Sarah ushered them into the bathroom. “Get yourselves cleaned up. I’ll bring you new clothes.”

Sam sank down onto the toilet lid. Damn it, even sitting hurt like hell. Changing and cleaning up in the tiny bathroom was awkward. Without asking Sam if he needed the help, Bucky had obviously decided that he did need help and had started wiping the blood from Sam’s arms and legs with a wet cloth. They really needed to have that talk about boundaries. Not that Sam was complaining, though. The problem was, he liked it. (Not in a sexual way, he was not that messed up and in too much pain and in his sister’s bathroom – just no.) For some reason, Bucky taking care of him was what did it for him. And Bucky wasn’t even particularly gentle, just efficient and matter-of-fact about it. But it was apparently enough that there was someone who had decided to take care of Sam a little bit more than was strictly necessary.

“This is not exactly flattering,” Sam said when Bucky had helped him into a pair of too-short sweatpants.

“Pretty sure you’ve seen me in worse states.”

Sam chuckled but then winced in pain when he tried to stand up. He was too exhausted to even pretend to protest when Bucky put an arm around him and supported him into the kitchen where Sarah was making dinner.

“Better?” Sarah asked Sam. “Need anything from the pharmacy? I can send Cass. They’ve already played long enough.”

It didn’t sound much like playing anymore. From the living room, the boys could be heard arguing loudly over the explosions and the music of their video games.

“I need to go to the ER,” Sam said, “and have someone check this.”

Sarah grimaced. “That bad, huh? Okay, let me just finish--” She was interrupted by the telephone ringing. “Sorry, have to get this, it’s probably Regina about that delivery tomorrow…” She hurried off into the living room to get the phone. Then there was a loud smashing sound followed by both boys screaming insults at the top of their lungs. Sam hurried over – as fast as he could with his injured leg – to make sure they didn’t need to bring more people to the hospital.

It did not look like anyone was injured. Just the coffee table had been thrown over, smashing a vase and two glasses. The boys were at each other’s throats, apparently fighting over the controller.

“Stop it!” Sam bellowed. At the same time, Sarah shouted, “No, no, everything’s fine!” into the phone that was squeezed under her chin, while she was trying to separate the boys.

“Do something,” Sam told Bucky. Staring did not seem to help to subdue kids fighting over video games.

Bucky grabbed each boy with one arm and separated them easily.

“Let go of my kids!” Sarah shouted immediately and then, “No, really, it’s fine!” into the phone.

Bucky let go of them as if burned and took a step back.

“I’ll call you back,” Sarah said and then proceeded to give the boys a thorough dressing down that ended in the threat to sell their game console if something like this ever happened again, “and I don’t care who started it!”

In the ringing silence that followed, they finally could hear the bubbling and sizzling from the kitchen. Bucky was the fastest and yanked the saucepan from the burner but the damage had already been done, the tomato sauce had boiled over onto the whole stovetop.

Sarah sank down on a kitchen chair. “Can you drive a car?” she asked Bucky.

“Of course.”

“Do you have a driver’s licence?” Sam asked Bucky once they were in the car on their way to the hospital.

“No.”

“God help me.” Sam tried to find a position that did not put pressure on his injured leg. Hopeless. It hurt any way.

“Couldn’t exactly take driving lessons as the Winter Soldier.”

Sam chuckled despite himself but then he stopped when he remembered the situation in the living room. “Look, Sarah knows you’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. But parents are wildly protective of their kids and wouldn’t take any chances.”

“I know, I get it.”

“It’s nothing personal. Maybe, once she knows you better, she’ll trust you with the boys, too.” Implying that Sam would bring Bucky to Sarah’s house more often in the future, often enough that she would come to eventually trust Bucky.

“Sam, it’s fine.” Bucky stretched the fingers of his vibranium arm and examined them with a frown. “I need to get your blood out of my hand. It’s not moving smoothly anymore.”

“Jesus, Buck.” Sam let his head fall back against the seat. “Please don’t make any comments like that in the hospital.”

Sam felt kind of sorry for the other people in the waiting room. They were injured or sick and now, on top of it, had to deal with the ominous presence and murderous glare of the Winter Soldier.

“Look, this is going to take some time,” Sam finally said to him. “Why don’t you go and…get a coffee or something?”

Bucky nodded and left the waiting room. The air eased immediately. Suddenly there was movement again. A mother let her kid down to run around, a young woman stood up to grab a magazine from the table, a man with his arm in a makeshift sling cleared his throat and attempted smalltalk.

“He’s harmless,” Sam tried to assure everyone. “Guy’s just got a staring problem.”

But then said staring problem was already back and stood in the door to the waiting room – with a cup of coffee in his hand. Well, that had not worked according to Sam’s plan.

“I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore,” Bucky said. “I’m James Bucky Barnes.” Then he smiled an awful smile that did nothing to help his case. He sat down next to Sam and handed him the coffee and a chocolate bar. Pet psychopath, Sharon’s words echoed in Sam’s mind.

Sam had very strong opinions about coffee from hospitals’ vending machines but just now realised that he had not eaten for hours and gratefully took both the coffee and the chocolate bar.

They had to wait for over an hour until it was finally Sam’s turn. The doctor was surprisingly okay with Bucky’s stitches, and just cleaned up the wound, gave him another tetanus shot for good measure (because they weren’t exactly sure yet how the Blip had effected vaccinations), dressed the wound, prescribed some strong painkillers and told Sam to keep the leg still for the next few days.

So that was what Sam did. He spent several days just lying on the couch in the living room, getting progressively competitive at video games. In turn, he tried to teach his nephews board games and helped with their homework to unburden Sarah at least a little bit. He also did a number of phone calls to try to get that damn loan (unsuccessfully). How Sarah had not killed anyone yet was a mystery to him.

Bucky spent the days on the boat. Every evening he came to report to Sam about his progress, never failing to mention how he wasn’t slowed down by Sam’s need for breaks anymore.

“I hate him,” Sam told Sarah, who was happily showing him photos of the boat while Bucky was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Sarah shrugged. “He is kind of useful. If he continues to work on the boat at that tempo, it’ll be ready to sail much earlier and I can minimise my losses.”

“I’m glad at least someone will profit from this mess.”

“He also knows how to gut and fillet fish.”

Sam chuckled. “Gutting fish and repairing boats – do you think those count as good character traits? Enough to justify falling in love with him?”

“I could introduce you to someone, you know. There’s this new guy in town, he’s an art teacher and he seems like a really sweet guy, very cultured of course and elegant – he is an art teacher after all – and he has those beautiful eyes... I’m pretty sure he’s interested in men.”

Sam frowned. There was nothing wrong with Bucky’s eyes. “Doesn’t sound like my type.”

Sarah sighed. “No, he certainly isn’t. You know, Sam, you do deserve a healthy and loving relationship like everyone else. Maybe give this guy a chance instead of always…” She trailed off. She didn’t have to say more.

“I’ll get back to you if I’m ever over the brainwashed serial killer.”

“It’s just that Daniel might already be seeing someone else by then. Like I said, he’s an attractive guy.”

“Wouldn’t be fair to Daniel if I tried to date him while, well.”

“You know what, Sam? What you’re doing is not fair to yourself. Look, I’ll send you his number, you can text him and meet up for a coffee, no commitment. Just give it a chance.” She opened the contacts app on her phone.

“Dinner is ready.”

Both Sam and Sarah whipped around in shock to see Bucky standing stock-still in the door, holding a plate with fish in each hand. Of course the first thought in Sam’s mind was, How much did he hear? Although it was hard to read Bucky, Sam prided himself in being able to interpret some of his stares. This one was somewhere between confused and irritated. Great.

“Great. Let’s hope you removed the bones properly and no one dies tonight.”

A deep crease appeared between Bucky’s eyebrows. Rightfully so, because that had been a stupid comment. But Sam could not think of anything funny or normal to say right now.

“Great,” Sarah said, then helped Sam up. They followed Bucky to the dining table.

Dinner was torture. The fish wasn’t half bad (no bones) but it was almost cold, which could only mean that Bucky had listened to too much of that conversation before he had announced his presence. And now he was staring again. By now, Sam had grown used to it, but this staring was on a whole new level, as if Bucky wanted to burn a hole through Sam’s forehead with his eyes.

“Staring,” he mouthed at Bucky while the boys thankfully babbled on about a football game a friend of Cass was organising.

Bucky jerked slightly but then finally tore his gaze from Sam and proceeded to glare daggers at the fish on his plate instead.

“Well, that was lovely,” Sarah said at last. “Thanks for cooking.” She stood up to do the dishes but Bucky got in her way with his superspeed.

“I’ll do it.”

Sarah shrugged and threw Sam a pitying glance.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced, explaining to his confused nephews, who did not understand why anyone would voluntarily go to bed so early, that he was really tired.

Back in his room, he flopped down on his bed and groaned loudly. How was this his life? Having a crush was one thing, Sam could easily suppress that. But his co-worker knowing about it… From now on everything was going to be so awkward. What had that stare meant? Would Bucky be fine with Sam’s misplaced affections? Should Sam start dating Daniel just to make it less awkward between Bucky and him? He buried his face in his pillow. Yeah, way to make it all worse and pull another, unsuspecting party into this mess.

There was a knock on his door.

He took a deep breath and sat up, dreading the worst. “Come in.”

Bucky came into his room, closed the door behind him and then – did absolutely nothing. He just stood there and looked at Sam.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Sam said after about a minute of ominous silence. “Are you going to say something?”

Bucky opened his mouth, closed it again.

Right, one of them needed to do the talking, and obviously it was up to Sam to be the mature one. Nothing new there. “So I’m assuming you eavesdropped on that conversation between Sarah and me.”

“The door was open.”

Oh, finally he was speaking. That was progress. “Anyway. I get that this may be awkward for you.” Sam’s throat was tightening up at the thought of Bucky not only turning him down but maybe even avoiding him in the future because he was…no. He soldiered on. “Just know that siblings often talk trash.”

“I know. I have a sister.”

“Good.” Sam tried to unclench his hands, which were gripping his thighs too tightly. “Then, what is your problem? Is there a problem?”

Bucky shook his head. He stepped closer and sat down next to Sam on the bed, never once taking his eyes off Sam’s face. Sam had no idea what to do. The words were stuck in his throat but it turned out he didn’t have to do anything because Bucky took his left hand, placed it on his lap and cradled it in both hands. So, this was his answer.

Sam exhaled, slowly, shudderingly. He finally met Bucky’s eyes that were still fixed, unblinking, on Sam’s. He liked it. God help him, he liked being the single focus of that stare, he liked the irritated and confused stares, the hard and sometimes worried ones but most of all the challenging ones. Sam was veering towards a highly dysfunctional and co-dependent relationship (if a relationship was something Bucky wanted – they really needed to talk about this!) and he was not willing to change the course.

They stayed like that for too long, eight minutes and thirty-two seconds too long, as the display on Sam’s alarm clock showed him, and each second that ticked by in silence made it more difficult to just speak up and say something non-monumental.

But Sam finally did it because he knew that someone needed to say something and, well, that someone usually tended to be him. “We should probably talk about this.”

“I can schedule a session with my therapist.”

Sam snorted with laughter. “She’d have a field day.”

But Bucky was not laughing, not even grinning psychopathically. He was still staring at Sam, waiting for an answer.

“Wait. You’re taking this seriously. You really want us to do this?”

Bucky gave a curt nod.

Wow. This was monumental. Not meeting up to get a coffee but couples therapy. “Right.” Sam’s heart was beating loudly in his chest. This was like putting the wings back on after many years and flying again. Frightening, yes, but also exhilarating. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

#sambucky #fanfic #sambucky fic #my writing

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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

Text

unless you take your army back ch. 5

First - Previous - Next - Read on AO3!

yo once again giving you guys a chapter how’s everyone doing? My posting dates will never again be on tuesday lol expect wednesdays or fridays when possible <3

anyways other business if you see an A/N in here somewhere (it’ll be between brackets) lmk and I’ll edit it out

Enjoy :)

cw: food, eating disorders, discussion of injuries

Jack didn’t leave to sell papes the next morning, instead bringing a cup of coffee and some porridge to Crutchie, then settling in beside him with a real fancy sketchbook and a charcoal pencil.

The coffee wasn’t that great, but Crutchie drank it all, hoping the energy would distract him from the uncomfortable tightness of his fresh bandages. Only one of the cuts that had split open was one that had needed stitches (Katherine had snipped the thread and pulled it out three days ago), but they would all probably scar. At least he already liked to wear long shirts and pants.

The porridge was fine, but rich. After about four bites, Crutchie rested the bowl on the windowsill. Just weeks ago, he would’ve been able to scarf down twice that amount in a matter of minutes, but now he could barely handle eating enough to feed a baby. He was sure he’d get better faster if he’d just eat more, but he just--couldn’t.

This wasn’t even the first time Crutchie had seen kids have trouble eating. At least half the newsies who did a stint in the Refuge came back uneasy around food, too accustomed to there being too little to go around. A lot of food was a trick, just the right amount was too much to stomach, and the little bit that they felt they needed wasn’t enough to keep them going.

So Crutchie knew that what he was going through with his food aversion was normal--expected, even. The frustrating problem was that Crutchie knew how to fix it. He had seen the others go through this, had watched Jack and Race and Specs help others, had even guided Tommy Boy through recovery himself just a few months ago. He knew the signs, he knew how to work through it, and yet he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t snap himself out of it.

Just the thought of food made him queasy, scared, uncertain of what was to come. When the guards brought food, it meant the respite was over. It meant scraps shoved down his throat as quickly as possible, followed by a day of grueling, pointless work with no breaks. He didn’t have the time to finish this bowl of porridge. More than a few bites and he was going to be tardy, the guards were going to beat him and he would fall and he wouldn't be able to get back up, not again not again not again--

“Crutchie, you gonna finish that?”

Crutchie looked up from his lap to see Jack, concern creasing his brow. He shrugged, not sure if he could even pretend to smile. “I didn’t see you eat, wanted to save some for you.” He didn’t need anyone’s help. He knew how to handle this.

Jack frowned. “Nah, I ate on the way up, nicked a bun. Is there some . . . other . . . reason?”

Stupid Jack Kelly and his ‘subtle’ prodding. Crutchie stretched his arms out a bit, affecting a casual look. A bandage rubbed against a raw patch of his chest, but instead of burning, it . . . itched.

That meant he was starting to get better, right? Or was it infected or something? Whatever it meant, it was a good excuse.

“Not really, just been itchin’ all mornin’, so I ain't all that hungry,” he explained, scratching his stomach for emphasis. “Bit bothering, y’know?”

He was sure he didn’t quite have Jack convinced, but it was enough for him to drop the matter. After all, Jack was under the impression that Crutchie had eaten a whole apple the morning before, and he’d been fairly good at emptying bowls of soup all week (not necessarily into his mouth, but Jack didn’t need to know that).

After a moment’s hesitation, Jack smiled. “Hey, itchy, huh?” He lightly punched Crutchie’s knee, which also didn’t hurt like he expected. “That’s good, means stuff is startin’ ta close up and heal.”

Crutchie nodded, feeling something in his chest try to jump excitedly. Even after falling so badly last night, he was getting better. That meant that maybe soon, he could be right back out there, hawking headlines and getting enough pity from his regulars and strangers to make twice the amount he usually did.

Thinking of it-- “Jack, why ain’t you out sellin’?”

Jack looked away--ashamed? Guilty? What? Had he gotten in trouble with the bulls again already? Jack muttered something, then buried his face in his new sketchbook, the tips of his ears burning red.

“That ain’t gonna cut it,” Crutchie said incredulously. “Who d’ya think I am, Race? I ain’t distracted that easy.”

Jack huffed, but didn’t drop his sketchbook. In a barely audible voice, he said very quickly “I soaked the Delanceys yesterday and the fellas think I oughtta stay away from ‘em and maybe take a day off ta give ‘em time ta forget about it.”

Okay, but attacking the Delanceys was something Jack did on a weekly basis. The Delanceys weren’t bright enough to carry a grudge overnight, and they were in a constant state of goading Jack, so what was different about this time?

Then Crutchie remembered their argument last night, what Jack and Davey had told him about how Oscar and Morris had been talking.

“Have they, uh,” Crutchie started, quiet, “been talking about . . . uh, ‘bout me . . . all week?”

Jack stiffened from behind his sketchbook, but nodded jerkily. “Tha’s what Specs said, anyhow.”

“Right.” Crutchie swallowed, looking away out the window. Buttons was out there, looped around a fire escape, calling something through cupped hands. The Delanceys were somewhere out there too, and could be talking about him that very moment, maybe even making plans to come after him. There was no way he could stop them, no way anyone could stop them. After all, Jack couldn’t be here all the time, and Kloppman was old, wiry but feeble compared to Oscar and Morris. They could take the man down in no time, then be up here and Crutchie would have nowhere to go and no way to escape.

Crutchie was suddenly very glad that Jack was here.

There were a few moments of silence, during which Crutchie continued to watch Buttons. His grin was visible even from this distance, growing wider any time he managed to sell a paper or two. Buttons had been having trouble selling lately--he was a little timid, too shy when it counts--so it was nice to see him having some success.

The lady talking to him now seemed nice, by the way Buttons was nodding and had fully disentangled himself from the fire escape to converse with her. The lady turned slightly, her face visible under her sun hat, and--hey! That was one of Crutchie’s regulars! She bought a paper on her way to visit her mother-in-law every other day, and always passed Crutchie’s selling spot on purpose. It was nice to see her again, almost . . . sentimental. Crutchie never thought he would feel almost misty-eyed over some lady whom he briefly interacted with a handful of times a week, but here he was. More than miss her, he missed being out there, he supposed.

“Hey, Crutch?”

Crutchie startled out of his thoughts. The woman was no longer there, Buttons once again attaching himself to the fire escape. Jack was watching him, a carefully disguised look of something on his face. Crutchie raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, so, I missed a union thing, what with last night,” Jack said. “So I’m gonna hafta do it today sometime. That cool with you?”

“What sorta thing?” Crutchie asked suspiciously. If it involved reporters and pictures and all that, Crutchie was not going to allow it to happen in here.

Not that you could stop it, a nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Jack could do anything to you right now. He was pretty angry last night, after all. You know what anger leads to.

Crutchie swallowed drily. He didn’t need to think about that.

“Oh, just a guy I gotta meet with,” Jack said, far too casually. He made a show of scratching his head. “He might bring another couple o’ fellas with him, so I’s just . . . lettin’ you know.”

Okay, so this wasn’t something he could stop. Great. That calmed him down so much. Crutchie gripped the blanket over him tightly, trying to not show that his hands had begun to tremble. He was fine, he didn’t need Jack getting all worried over nothing. It was just some . . . unknown guy. With bodyguards. Coming into the room to have a discussion with Jack.

“Hey. Hey.”

Crutchie pulled himself from his spiral to see Jack laying his hands over his. “It’s okay,” Jack said seriously. “I can chat with ‘em in another room, or outside. You don’t oughtta have guys in here that you ain’t know.”

Crutchie released his grip, more to assuage Jack than his nerves. He nodded, not sure what he was even expected to say. What if a fight broke out? And Jack was all alone, against three or four guys? He couldn’t let Jack be alone.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Crutchie said hoarsely. Wow, he needed something to drink. He hadn’t noticed his throat drying up. “I uh, I can be your second?”

The words were barely out of his mouth before he regretted them. Of course Jack didn’t want him as his second! He was just some stupid, useless, injured cripple, and Jackhad to still be mad at him for last night. He’d want Davey there, probably--Davey was one of the union heads too, right? And Davey was so good at talking things through and being all smart. All Crutchie could do was make people laugh or feel bad for him--great for selling papes and living on the street, terrible for union business.

“Would ya?” Jack asked. He almost looked a little bit relieved, which took Crutchie aback. “You know how I can get. It’s--it’s nice, havin’ somebody backin’ me up. ‘Specially you, Crutch, you’s real good at talkin’ to folks.”

The air left Crutchie’s lungs. Was he? He was pretty good at selling to just about anyone. Jack used to joke that he would be able to sell a pape to Pulitzer himself for a dollar, without the man even realizing it was his own paper or too high a price. Jack would say that to just about anyone who would listen, actually.

How had Crutchie forgotten that?

“Who’s these folks, then?” Crutchie asked, shifting a bit so that his head was almost level with Jack’s. He liked to think that he was pretty accustomed to the broken ribs at this point--they hurt, but he could now sit up without even breathing heavy. After the week he’d had, Crutchie counted that as a win.

Jack’s carefully casual air was back, clear in the stiff lines of his body and the forced half-grin on his lips. “Just some guys who got a say in newsie union stuff, y’know? From one o’ the other turfs.”

That made sense, actually. The Manhattan newsies weren’t the only ones in the union, after all. In fact, if what Elmer had excitedly told him was true, Davey had shook hands with Spot Conlon and led him straight to Pulitzer’s office, after Conlon had spoken at Davey’s rally--

Oh.

Oh no.

“You’s bringin’ Spot Conlon to the place we sleep?!”

“It was--”

“No no no, lemme get this straight,” Crutchie said, incredulous. “Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn borough, is comin’ here. To Manhattan’s lodging house. Now I know that Brooklyn joined the strike, but there is no way we’s become friends with Brooklyn in the two weeks I ain’t been around, and ya don’t show allies where ya sleep.”

“They already knows where we sleep, there’s a huge sign on the buildin’!” Jack shot back. He dropped his work and gestured widely. “Manhattan newsboys lodgin’ house, in big ol’ letters, smack on the front! Was it s’posed ta be a secret? Or do ya think they just can’t read?”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Crutchie replied stubbornly. “Ya don’t invite them into your home, you hold ‘em at arm’s length for when they in’vitably scab!”

“Well, that ain’t no way ta treat your allies,” a voice said from the doorway.

Crutchie and Jack both looked up to see the man himself, an unimpressed Spot Conlon, with two lackeys--and also Racetrack. Race waved casually.

“Hey Jack, hey Crutch!” Race said. “Spot’s here ta meet with ya.”

Jack strode across the room, spat and shook with Spot, anxiously adjusting his hat with his other hand. “Nice ta see ya, Conlon,” he said, the geniality in his voice a stark contrast from his heated arguing moments before. Crutchie snorted. Jack shot him a glare.

“So, what’s sayin’ we get straight ta business, Kelly?” Spot suggested, walking further into the room without invitation. Race tipped his hat at them all, then stuck his cigar in his mouth and took off. “This here’s Hotshot, and the other’s Sharpshooter,” Spot threw out, gesturing at the two guys with him. They each nodded in turn.

“Right,” Jack said, “This is Crutchie, he’s my second.”

Spot turned a piercing gaze on Crutchie. Crutchie felt his face heat up as Spot’s sharp eyes took in the patchwork of yellow-brown bruises on his face and throat, the scabbed-over gash on his temple, the splint wrapping his left arm. Finally, he turned away to face Jack.

“You met with Joe of late?” Spot asked. Jack nodded.

“Saw ‘im yesterday. No complaints from his side--he’s sayin’ they’s already noticed circulation goin’ up. You’s been meetin’ with the Journal and the Sun, yeah?”

Spot gave an affirmative nod. “We got ‘em where we want ‘em,” he said with a chuckle. Crutchie waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

Jack seemed sort of disconcerted--Crutchie wondered if Spot could tell. This was all happening so suddenly. Moments ago, Crutchie hadn’t even known anyone was coming. Now there were three Brooklyn newsies standing over his bed, and he couldn’t do anything to defend himself or make them leave. Brooklyn was always angry, always jeering, doing nothing to strengthen the tentative peace they had come to a few months ago. Really, Crutchie had good reason to be wary. Brooklyn newsies had more than once kicked his crutch out from under him.

Spot and Jack were talking about something, but Crutchie couldn’t really pay attention to them. The one called Sharpshooter was staring him down, in a way that said both I’m-trying-to-intimidate-you and I-don’t-need-to-intimidate-you-weakling. Hotshot was doing the exact same thing to Jack, but Jack seemed unbothered. Crutchie was pretty sure he wasn’t pulling that off near as well. He hadn’t been stared at like that--like he was a piece of dirt that stubbornly remained as you scrubbed at a window--since he’d been . . . there. The Refuge.

Crutchie turned his gaze to the window. Buttons was out of sight, the fire escape likely blazing hot in the sun. There weren’t very many people visible whatsoever--it was stifling out, which was probably why Brooklyn was already here. Selling would have to be done in a very particular fashion today--morning, at the coolest, when everyone was headed for work, then around the lunch hours, then the last few in the evening. Crutchie felt bad for the likely sunburned newsies, frantically trying to sell all their papes in those short windows of time, clothes sticking to them with sweat and the hot air weighing them down.

“Hey, Crutch?”

Crutchie looked back to the conversation. Jack was watching him expectantly, as was Spot. Crutchie tried to not look clueless--he had really been zoning out, hadn’t he? How much time had passed? Why was everyone looking at him?

“D’you mind answerin’ any questions Spot has? I’m gettin’ us all some water.”

Crutchie nodded. It couldn’t be that hard, right? He had totally lost track of the conversation, but he knew a fair bit about what had happened and what was going to happen with the union, mostly from Jack rambling in the afternoons when the silence became too much for one of them.

“So,” Spot said brusquely as soon as the door closed behind Jack. “All that from the strike?”

Crutchie blinked. All what? He needed a bit more context. He should’ve been listening. He opened his mouth to ask, then saw Spot vaguely waving at his body. Oh.

“Nah,” Crutchie mumbled, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Some of it, yeah. Mostly the Refuge, though.”

Spot sucked a breath in through his teeth, and Hotshot turned away. “Looks like you was lucky to make it out alive.”

“Oh, yeah,” Crutchie said bitterly. He almost laughed. “By the end there I was ’lucinatin’ so bad I thought I’d been buried already. Probably I was hours from bein’ gone forever.”

Silence. He’d made it awkward, hadn’t he? Crutchie tried to come up with some useful purpose for Spot Conlon to know this, like maybe he’d get pity or sympathy or something and the Brooklyn newsies would leave him alone, but it honestly sounded worse than Conlon straight up hating him. Crutchie was tired of being pitied. He was tired of being a charity case.

“How long?” That was Sharpshooter, his voice pitched a lot higher than Crutchie expected. It didn’t quite match his height and dark eyes.“Was you there, I means.”

“A week, I think. It’s sorta blurry.”

Spot whistled. “Snyder musta had it out for ya. All that in just a week? I’s had boys in there for months come out lookin’ better.”

Again, Crutchie almost laughed. “Everybody has it out for the crip,” he said bluntly, his eyes on his hands as he twisted the blanket between his fingers. “Throw in my personal connection ta Jack Kelly union leader, and a week is a long time ta be lastin’.”

Crutchie looked up. Spot was giving him a strange look--it wasn't pity, like Crutchie expected. It wasn’t disgust. It wasn’t even shock that he was still alive. It was--he didn’t know. And then it was gone.

“Crutchie, right?” Spot asked, glancing out a window aloofly. Crutchie nodded. “You’s a good kid. If you ever finds you in some sorta trouble . . . you’s welcome in Brooklyn.”

What?

He understood that they were allies, but allies did not mean that anyone from either turf was allowed to just go wandering over. The only person who had ever been allowed to was Race, who sold in Brooklyn--why, Crutchie didn’t know. Crutchie didn’t think anyone knew. There were plenty of good spots in Manhattan--why did Race trek all the way to a hostile turf just to sell papes? The point was, this wasn’t something that just happened. Ever. Brooklyn and Manhattan had been on bad terms for as long as Crutchie had been a newsie, and before that as far as anyone could remember.

Crutchie didn’t have much more time to think about it, though, as Jack reentered the room, balancing three glasses of water carelessly enough that it made Crutchie tense up, as if ready to catch one when it dropped. One he handed to Spot, one to Crutchie, and the last to Hotshot. Sharpshooter rolled his eyes and swiped it, half-draining the glass before handing it back.

“Crutchie clear anything up?” Jack asked. Spot continued to stare at Crutchie, a slight crease between his brows.

“Yeah, a few things,” Spot answered absently. “A few.”

The discussions continued for another ten minutes or so, Jack eventually convincing Spot that they were not currently trying to lower the price even further (“I’ve already got Bill down ta fifty-two per hundred, why should I stop?”), and got him to agree to work closely with Davey when Jack wasn’t available. That seemed to be all they could resolve for the time being without attacking each other, which was probably the most that had ever been done by a Manhattan newsie and a Brooklyn newsie working together. When Spot went to leave, though, he turned to Crutchie.

“Ol’ Jack ever oversteps, ya know where ta find us,” he said with a firm nod. “Any guy from Brooklyn will bring ya to me, jus’ say the word.” With that, he was gone, Sharpshooter and Hotshot marching after him.

Jack froze, halfway to gathering the two glasses from where they’d been set on the floor, his mouth agape. “Wh--” he tried. Crutchie could have laughed. He didn’t. But he could’ve. “Did Spot Conlon jus’--” he whipped around to stare at Crutchie. “What’d you talk about?” he demanded. “How’d ya get Spot Conlon ta make you an honorary Brooklyn boy?”

Crutchie shrugged. He wasn’t quite sure what had passed between them himself, and he also wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. It wasn’t like he’d done anything. Spot barely knew who he was. The first time they met had been today.

“W-well, if you isn’t gonna eat that, hand it to me.”

The change in subject took Crutchie by surprise, but he passed the partly-eaten bowl of porridge to Jack, who gave him one last suspicious glance before leaving the room.

Crutchie hated being alone these days--the only things worth doing were sleeping and practicing walking. The second one was off the table after yesterday, and he was sick of sleeping, but when there was nobody around there was nothing to do but think. Nothing to do but fall deeper and deeper into a dark chasm that yawned open in his mind. Nothing to do but slowly become more and more paranoid. . . .

He wished he had asked Jack for some more water before he left. Not that Jack wasn’t coming back or anything, it just would’ve been nice to not force him to make another trip.

When Jack returned some ten minutes later, though, he was not alone. Holding his hand was Katherine, laughing at something Jack had said before they entered the room. Crutchie shrunk away. He didn’t want to see Katherine--she would try to pay for a doctor to come see him or insist on checking each of his wounds or something equally mortifying.

“Look who turned up!” Jack said brightly, and Crutchie tried not to frown too obviously.

“Hi, Katherine,” he said politely. “How’re you?”

“Oh, Crutchie, you look so much better!” Katherine exclaimed. Crutchie examined her face carefully. Mostly the truth, but something in her eyes told him that she was still worried about him. “Look at you, sitting up and everything!” a pause. “Have you, um, been eating well?”

There it was. Crutchie hadn’t seen himself in the mirror in a while--every time someone carried him to the washroom, he’d resolutely avoided it. He knew that his face was still multicolored from the various stages of healing his bruises were in, but he hadn’t even thought that he might look malnourished. Elmer’s bracelet was pretty loose on his wrist, now that he was thinking about it. His unwrapped elbow practically jutted out of his skin.

Great. He’d spent a week in the Refuge and had come out looking like the most pitiful creature ever. He was so weak--it had been such a short amount of time! And now he’d been in bed for just as long, when he should’ve been recovered by now!

“Been workin’ on it,” Crutchie managed, trying not to let his thoughts show too obviously. “Hard ta get back up ta where it’s s’posed ta be, y’know?”

“Yeah, he’s been eating less,” Jack added. “It happens, but he’s been tryin’ ta eat most everything I bring him.”

Crutchie resolutely did not blush or look away. There was no reason for Katherine to believe anything to the contrary. Still, she and Jack watched him carefully for a few moments, then exchanged a look. Was he supposed to say something?

“Jack said there was quite the scare last night,” continued Katherine. “Are you feeling okay after your fall?”

Crutchie nodded. He wasn’t lying, actually. He did feel better than he had all week, even if all of his injuries felt raw from falling. Nothing was hazy anymore, nor particularly sharp. It felt almost normal, if the pain could be ignored. He was getting better.

“Why’re you here, Kath?”

Katherine’s smile strained. “Can’t a girl check up on her best friend?”

Crutchie leveled a stare of his own at her. This was the first he’d heard of being best friends. She had to have some sort of ulterior motive--a doctor or a medicine or something stupid like that. He hated to think it, but couldn’t she just leave him alone?

“Okay, I came--of my own volition, by the way--to ask you if you’d be willing to be seen by my family doctor--”

“Nope, thanks,” Crutchie said loudly, glaring hard enough to bore a hole in Katherine’s head. “As you can see, I’s healin’ up just fine.”

“It wouldn’t cost anything, my father--”

“I won’t be botherin’ your father, if it’s all the same ta you,” Crutchie retorted. “Nor no one. I’m gonna be out there sellin’ again soon, an’ if I decides I need a doctor, I’ll save up the cost myself and see ‘im when I feel like it.”

Katherine and Jack exchanged another look, one that told Crutchie they thought he was being stubborn. And so what if he was? Stubbornness had kept him alive countless times. His particular brand of stubborn had been considered both adorable and inspiring in the past. Maybe he was being annoying, but so what? Was it why they wouldn’t listen to him? Did acting annoying really mean he was stripped of his worth to them, his autonomy?

After a long staring contest with Jack, Katherine huffed and rolled her eyes. “Boys,” she muttered, turning away from both of them. Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The lines of Katherine’s shoulders were sharp and tight, radiating tension that was echoed in Jack’s nervous stance.

Crutchie picked at the blanket. Why did every conversation seem to turn into a fight lately? He just wanted people to respect his choices. Heck, maybe he would take Spot up on that offer. It sounded nice to be around people who had no history with him, a fresh slate, a new standard to set. He would get to prove he was strong to them, instead of being cooped up because they were too afraid of how broken he was.

“Well,” Katherine said, straightening her shoulders and facing them again, “take off your shirt, then.”

Crutchie choked. So did Jack. “Uh, what?” Jack sputtered.

“Buy me dinner first,” Crutchie managed.

Katherine rolled her eyes. “You want to be back out there, don’t you?” she asked Crutchie. He nodded, a little scared of where this was going. “I need to make sure you’re healing well enough, if you won’t see a doctor. Then I’ll tell you when you can continue to sell newspapers. And Jack? Get us something to drink.”

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'Surprising' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Surprising"

"Ready for your new job, agent Grigoriev?"

Chapter Summary: Days passed and while having a little fun game of 'Bullshit' with Zasha & Park, Yirina got an idea that could be surprising for them to do...

Link of the Picrew used !

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3600

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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July 2nd, I was now well used to go work at Century House, fill up some paperwork, talk with some people, be with Park & Zasha, coming back to the apartment to have a good diner, maybe watching TV or playing a 'Bullshit' game before going to sleep, that was now my daily basis since we returned from Verdansk but today was a different day from the other ones. Today, it was the first time that I, Park & Zasha were authorized to not go to work, allowing a day of taking a break peacefully in the apartment.

There was still that problem with the arrival of Lukas Ritter and that mysterious I.B in London. I, Park the MI5 & Zasha's team were on it for days but we didn't succeed to catch anything to know about both of them. It was sure nonetheless that we were going to put aware of anything new in the case by the MI5 or the rest of Zasha's team that was working at Century House for us and now, the three of us were in the living room, not watching TV but...rather playing a 'Bullshit' game as friends...

"Come on, how the fuck did you get 2 queens, Yiri?" Park cursed at me after I put in the middle of the table two queens on the pack of cards.

"Hey, it's not me that said 'Bullshit'!" I smirked at her, giving eyes to the pack of cards as a means for her to take the pack in her hands. "So now, you take the pack or I'll have to do something very bad," I warned her, a smile on the part of my face...a naughty thought in my head.

"You're not funny, love," She sighed, taking the pack of cards in her hands even if I was feeling in her voice that she wasn't meaning it. "Did you two ally against me?"

"Why I will do that?" Zasha fainted to be offended by Park's words, their little pack in their hands. "I literally beat you two together two nights ago along with my Yiri so I didn't ally with her, Park," They added, making a little laugh by looking at the two of us. "So, are you going to make a team against me or we're continuing to play?"

"An alliance is probably good," I muttered, winking at Park and by the second I said that Park immediately moved to get next to me with her big pack of cards. "Wait, that was a joke..."

"Not for me," Park smiled at me, now finding myself to work with her and her big pack of cards along with mine that was like between big & small. "If we work together, I promise big things with you, only the two of us," She whispered in my left ear, using a pretty seductive voice

"Ok, I'm teaming up with Park," I exclaimed to Zasha, joining my pack with Park's one almost enthusiastic about Park's...proposal to me. "Now, let's the fun begin: four kings," I started, looking at the united cards.

"Pfff...bullshit." Zasha chuckled, thinking that I was joking before I start to put down the first king card.

"One king," I said, not removing my eyes from Zasha to see their reaction as I was putting the card down.

"Two kings," Park continued, taking the second card on the table.

"Three kings," I put down the third one before I start to see a small drop of water on Zasha's forehead, making me laugh "And four kings!" I announced, putting the last king card we had in the united pack.

"Ah, come on, that ain't right!" Zasha protested, resisting the urges of throwing their cards on the table, half-upset to us. "That isn't fair at all, you teamed up," They complained.

"Yes, but you didn't say anything to us about it," Park raised her shoulders to them, slowly moving her hands towards the four kings' cards on the table to give them. "So, we had the right to do it,"

"It's the first time you beat me but you two had to team up," Zasha rolled their eyes around the room, their face directly telling that our alliance was...how can I say?...not obligated to do to beat them. "You two...next time, beat me by not allying with each other,"

"At least, we showed that you weren't invincible to 'Bullshit'," I stated as they were always winning with Portnova at their side while I & Park were the ones always losing, now having changed the things and having won. "There's a beginning to everything, Zed," I added.

"Maybe but your victory isn't a fair one," They continued to not accepting our victory against them, nonetheless taking the kings' cards in their hands. "You two...well, I'm probably sure you two want coffee for your victory,"

"Why not?" I suggested, looking at Park who nodded to me. "I'm for it and I'm sure that you're going to have one for you too,"

"You're goddamn right," They grinned at me, putting their pack of cards upside down on the table to get up to walk to the kitchen, leaving me & Park on the couch.

"At least, we managed to trick them," Park muttered, her right arm going around my shoulder. "As I promised, me & you are going to do some big things alone," She affirmed, her left arm now above my chest.

"I'm curious about what we will do," I breathed, my hands going on her left arm, a smile on my face. "I just think that we should do that away, you know, maybe a little travel somewhere," I suggested to her.

"And where do you want to go exactly?" She asked me curiously.

"I don't know, we can talk about it later," I said as her question was a bit hard to respond to despite the easiness of it. "Now, we had to beat Zasha on our own," I told her.

"Yeap, you have to..." I heard Zasha's voice coming back to us, three cups in their hands, me moving to grab the two they were having in their left hand. "And if you don't, I will certainly have to teach you the game perfectly," They continued, sitting back on their seat.

"We'll see about it now," I snorted before taking a sip of my cup, and then, suddenly, it was like I had an idea in my head. "Wait, I think that we can do something else,"

"What? You fear to let me win again?" Zasha bragged, drinking their coffee.

"No, why don't we go pay a visit to Portnova at the university?" I proposed to both as she was the only one that was at work today, "It's surely going to surprise her, I never got the chance to see her as a teacher,"

"Why not? I want to see that too," Park agreed to my idea as Zasha was surprised to hear that from us.

"Well, that's a great idea from you and since it's been you came back that I didn't have the chance to visit her at work so yeah, I'm in," They also agreed to my idea as I & Park got up from the couch, our cup in hands, finishing them quickly. "Prepare yourselves, I'll be leading the way,"

"Of course," Park smiled at them, putting her cup down on the table.

"Yeap," I did the same thing as her before I moved away to grab mine & Park's jacket on the coat hanger. "Time for us to go back to university," I joked while I was putting on my jacket after giving Park hers.

Once we were done preparing ourselves and waiting for Zasha to do the same as they were still wearing their pyjamas at the beginning of the afternoon, having to dress back in casual clothes, we left the apartment, not forgetting to take some things for our visit to Portnova, including papers & pens to write as I also thought that it was a good idea to attend one of Portnova's lecture class this afternoon, talking about maths.

Instead of walking through a large part of London to reach the university, we decided to use the imperial buses to get to it, discovering for the first time those buses from the inside that were like usual ones...but with more seats & a roof for passengers. However, we stayed in the comfort of inside the bus we took, letting Park & Zasha sit on free seats while I stayed up as the bus was almost full of people.

It took us ten minutes to arrive at the university by bus, also discovering the place for the first time as I never got the chance to visit this part of London but thanks to Zasha and a bit Park, I managed to spot my way in, Zasha leading the way to get us to the room she was going to make her lecture soon, having arrived in time to not miss it entirely.

"You're sure it's here?" I asked Zasha as we arrived near one of the doors they stopped nearby.

"Of course, Portnova is always making her lectures in here and as you know well, I already know the place," They admitted before they opened the door for me & Park. "Come on, students, time to learn," They scoffed, gesturing to us to enter the room that was looking like an auditorium with almost a hundred real students already in.

"Shit, it's a lot," I commented, discovering the number of people in here as I wasn't so feeling good to be around a lot of people in a small place.

"Grigoriev? Park? Zed?" I was surprised when I heard Portnova's voice near me, looking in her direction to see her coming from the main desk. "But what are you doing here?" She asked us.

"We wanted to surprise you, Yiri," Zasha replied, a grin on their face at seeing Portnova dressed like a teacher, she was looking perfect in that uniform. "It's been a long time that I didn't came and we all wanted to 'attend' one of your classes if possible,"

"Yeah, we wanted to know but if you think it's too stressful for you, we can stay outside until you're finished," Park suggested, telling one of her fears about the surprise. "It was just our curiosity that wanted to know how you were as a teacher," She added, looking at me as the one who got the idea about it.

"Well, that doesn't disturb me at all," Portnova reassured us, making the three of us relieved. "I see that you didn't come with your hands empty," She remarked, seeing the things we got in hands, paper & pens.

"We preferred to really attend than just look at you making your work so we bring paper," Zasha explained to her, seeing them wink at her.

"Good, go install yourselves somewhere, I'm going to start soon," She ordered to us, gesturing towards the remaining seats for us "Be advised: I will check your work once I'm done," She smirked at us, using a half-serious voice before she starts to walk back to her desk.

"We should sit at the end of the class, having a better view and of course, not wanting to stress too much Portnova," I suggested to the two as I think that I never wanted to be in front of everyone in the room, having a hundred eyes in my back isn't something I like.

"And by luck, we got seats for us," Park whispered, pointing towards the free seats at the end of the class, just located on the side of the main doors before she moved to get to them, following her quickly before we could sit perfectly on them.

"Back to university..." I thought to myself like that, thinking about my recovered memories but I never had one of me attending a class or something. "It's still weird to be acting like students for me," I spoke to Park as she was sitting near me in the middle, Zasha against the wall.

"Not for me, makes me remember when I studied international relations in Oxford," She said with a smile, putting her paper on the table with her pen before crossing her arms. "A good period for me,"

"You studied at Oxford before?" Zasha demanded to her, removing themselves from the wall, sounding curious in their voice.

"Yeap, I started to study in Oxford two months after I turned 18 years old," She responded, looking at them.

"Mmhm..mmhm," We all heard a microphone and Portnova's voice through it, probably the way to get her voice listened from everyone and that did get our attention. "Hello, everyone, it's time for us to continue from the last class," She started, prompting me, Park & Zasha to make us ready.

At this moment, it was time for us to become for almost 2 hours, maths students, listening to Portnova's lesson and making sure to note everything while she was asked questions by some curious students. Zasha said to us discreetly that they thought at first that they were asking 'stupid questions' until Portnova make them realize that they weren't stupid at all, giving a lot of arguments and causing Zasha to stop thinking about it as 'stupid'...just curiosity.

There was something that I didn't think at first about a lecture, it's that we really need to write faster as Portnova was not stopping at any moments in her lesson, thinking at first that my pen was going to give me up before the end of the 2 hours but hopefully after one hour of lesson, Portnova allowed everyone to take a break for 5 minutes before she could restart her lesson again, giving me a time to breathe.

"That's looking very interesting," I said, looking down at what I wrote on my own piece of paper.

"I second this, she's really a good teacher and we did only one hour," Park commented, agreeing about my statement before she got up from her seat. "I'm going to talk with her until she restarts, you're both coming?" She asked.

"Of course," Zasha replied directly.

"I'm going to take a breath in the hallway for a second, I'll be coming back shortly," I responded for me as even if the class was nice, it was like feeling too hot in here, the windows of the auditorium not even opened to let some fresh air coming in.

"Okay, we'll stay with Portnova if you search for us," Park reassured me as I got up from my seat along with Zasha before we start to walk down the stairs, parting ways with the two to get outside the big room to take a breath. I was only out for a few seconds that I was intentionally pushed over by a man dressed in a black hoodie in front of me.

"Hey, watch where you're going, redhead!" The man warned me, not taking the blame at all but suddenly, I saw something that almost freezes my blood: the man was wearing a small Perseus necklace above his hoodie.

"I'm sorry, sir," I apologized, not really myself in my voice until he walked away from me...entering the room I just left...the room where Portnova was teaching. "Fuck..." I whispered, realizing the whole situation: a Perseus agent was here. "Damnit," I said before I start to walk back into the class, seeing the man sitting on an empty seat in one of the first ranks.

"Already finished?" Zasha demanded to me as I was getting near them, Park & Portnova speaking.

"No, we have a problem," I revealed to them, moving to get closer to them. "There's a Perseus agent in the class,"

"What?" The trio whispered in shock to me, thinking that I was joking at first until I shook my head.

"You saw a guy dressed in a hoodie coming in..." I whispered, Portnova nodding to me discreetly. "He has a Perseus necklace with him and...shit, I think that he's after you, Portnova," I suggested as the man from Perseus didn't seem to recognize me despite my old status in the collective.

"Shit, that's means that Perseus knows that I'm alive," Portnova mumbled, seeing her eyes looking around before stopping in the direction the Perseus agent was. "What do you propose?" She asked me.

"Tell your students that you are needed for a few minutes and when you left, go to the bathroom, it's sure that the agent will follow you." I proposed, putting my arm for a second on her desk. "I'll be following him from up close while Park & Zasha follow me, we're going to trap him," I added and the trio nodded to me.

"Good, I'll tell them," Portnova approved, gesturing to go back to our seats, walking upstairs to reach them. "Excuse me everyone but I'm needed for a few minutes by a colleague, I'll be back shortly!" Portnova announced through her microphone to the students, putting silence in the room before she starts to walk away from her desk to leave it.

"Shit, the agent is following here," Zasha spoke up as we saw the Perseus agent leaving his seat too to walk away.

"I'm tailing him, stay near me," I took a deep breath before I do the same as the Perseus agent, going back downstairs to left the room too, knowing that Park & Zasha was nearby.

As I left the room, I saw the Perseus agent following Portnova from up close, her taking the right direction as I was walking to them, hoping to catch him quickly before he could put his hands on her and suddenly, I looked at Portnova who entered a room, probably the bathroom and as I predicted, that man was still behind her, entering the bathroom too before I start to run towards the door of it to get my hands on it.

"Shit..." I muttered as I start to hear some weird noises inside, causing me to open the door in a fast move, and then, I could discover the man that was going to take a pistol out of his jacket.

I moved quickly to grab the pistol out of his hands, throwing myself in him to make sure that no gunshot was going to happen in that place and by the noises, Portnova who was faking to look herself in the mirrors turned around to help me take out that agent but as I was falling down with him, he managed to push me over with his feet, landing with my back on the wall almost hardly.

"Fucking amateurs..." The man scoffed as he was struggling with Portnova for the gun until he headbutts her violently, removing her from the top of him, allowing him to get up, and then, I stretched my neck and arms to fight with that. "Here you are, redhead!" He told me before I start to give him punch and strike towards him, trying to find a way to make my attacks perfect, him managing to block a part of my punches to him.

After a few seconds of trying to punch him in his chest with my fists, I decided to change my methods, going to knee kick him in his waist, receiving some punches on my face, starting to feel the small taste of blood in my mouth but after a few strikes in the chest, I grabbed him by the collar, putting him against the window of the bathroom but as I was going to have knocked out by looking by his face, I was unfortunately distracted by the sound of a door.

Turning my head around was a bad mistake as he strikes me right in the guts and headbutts me too, making me fall on the ground as he opened the window of the bathroom, his pistol still on the ground as I was seeing briefly Park & Zasha coming in to check on us and help us but it was looking too late.

"You have the regards of Bellamy Petrov!" The man saluted us, using a joking tone before he jumped off through the opened window, out of sight of me as Park runs to catch him to the window.

"Shit, he's got away!" She said after checking for a few seconds through the window, seeming too late to stop this 'Bellamy'. "Yiri, you're alright?" She turned around to help me got up.

"I'm bleeding, I think," I replied after she helped me back on my feet, looking myself in the mirror to see some blood coming out of my nose, still feeling that taste in my mouth. "Fuck, now, Perseus knows that Portnova faked her death," I told, looking back at Portnova who was helped by Zasha back on her feet.

"How they could have known?" Zasha asked after they helped Portnova that was still holding her head, hurt.

"Perseus must have either agents in the MI6 or he's having agents everywhere, every time," Park responded with her hands on her waist. "We got the luck to come here, we avoided an assassination for sure,"

"Yeah but now, things are surely going to change," I commented about the situation. "If Perseus tried this today, that's meaning that Ritter & that I.B is coming soon for their job," I added, thinking that it was the only thing to link to that attempt. "Portnova, how do you feel?" I demanded to her.

"I'm fine, that guy is a brute with his punch & his head," She replied, holding her forehead as Zasha was staying near her, looking by her state.

"I think that we should get out of here, Portnova, you need to come with us," Park ordered in a clear voice, staying near me too, me holding my nose to stop the blood to come out and Portnova nodded, understanding the situation we were now facing...

"It seems that Perseus is taking his actions to a new level and I don't like it!"

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #fem!bell #yirina grigoriev #helen park

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okayto · 4 years

Text

Murderbot Reference: Character Descriptions Part 2

Fandom reference! I tried to note every time a person/thing got a physical description, as well as additional info like how augments work, etc. Please note that there may be spoilers for all five books, but especially Network Effect.

This post contains:

ART’s Senses

ART’s Crew

Three

Rami, Tapan and Maro

Tlacey

Tlacey’s ComfortUnit

Targets (Network Effect)

Barish-Estranza: Eletra, Ras, and Supervisor Leonide

Augments (what they are/how they work)

Other Human Personal Tech (Non-Augments)

Other Bots/Machines: Agricultural Bot, Pathfinders, NE Target Drones, MB’s Drones

Other posts: Part 1; Part 3

ART’s Senses

· Besides cameras, sees ship through internal sensors, “which provided data (heat, density, angles of motions, etc.) that didn’t translate into images, at least not visual images useful to humans.”

· MB guesses that gaps in ART’s memory archives might look like “a giant interruption in the constant incoming reports from subsystems like life support, navigation, etc. It was tricky, because for ART these are not like discrete reports from connected systems, but more like the sensory input I would get from the pads on the tips of my fingers.”

· Does have cameras in many areas, cameras hidden enough that MB didn’t know they existed until ART turned them on and provided access via the feed in NE.

· Likes Amena and talks to her more gently than MB or other humans—it’s more careful of Amena’s feelings. Has talked about human adolescents in a positive way. ART is, on a regular basis, a teaching vessel.

ART’s Crew

· Iris: augmented human. Dark brown skin, wearing a decorative woven bracelet when rescued in NE and a light blue longsleeved T-shirt. Small, shorter and slimmer than Ratthi, but not much bigger than Amena. Dark hair is the curly kind that puffs out a lot, but in NE pulled back and tied up in a band. Hair is long enough that she lifted it up so MB could see her back/neck when checking for an implant. Longsleeved T-shirt and pants and soft shoes are the casual version of ART’s blue crew uniform. Some bruises and scrapes at rescue. Seth’s child.

· Seth: tall, very dark brown skin, “with less hair than most SecUnits,” a mostly-hairless head; earlier description from photograph (later context makes this likely to be Seth) says “no hair on the front half of his head.” Iris’s parent, she calls him “Dad.” Captain of Perihelion.

· Martyn is Iris’s other parent (called “Dad); Seth’s marital partner; earlier description from photograph (later context makes this likely to be Martyn posing next to Seth) says lighter skin than Seth, with short white hair; he/him

· Kaede is about the same size as Iris, but skin is lighter and her hair is yellow

· Matteo is small like Iris and Kaede, and has a lot of dark hair that at rescue had come loose from braids. They/Them.

· Turi is young like Amena. They/Them

· Karime uses she/her

· Tarik uses he/him

· On variation of crew uniform (made for MB): dark blue, pants and jacket of deflective fabric, good quality (better than Station Security), with lots of sealable pockets for weapons and drones. Stability fabric boots, probably tough enough to jam a hatchway. Looks like what human security would wear. ART’s crew logo on the jacket, which also has a collar that folds down.

Three

· SecUnit, with projectile weapon built into arm

· Armor flexes if it shifts its shoulders

Rami, Tapan, and Maro

· All wearing variations on work clothes, no uniform logos. Either Rami or Maro has an implant, but none are augmented. Part of a group marriage of 7 people, with 5 children of various sizes. MB thinks all are young—not far from adolescence.

· Rami: tercera, “which was a gender signifier used in the group of non-corporate political entities known as the Divarti Cluster,” te/ter. Purple hair, red eyebrows, light brown skin. Wearing a jacket.

· Tapan: female. Multicolored braids wrapped up around her head, blue jewel-toned feed interface clipped to ear, slightly darker skin than Rami. Wearing a flower-patterned t-shirt.

· Maro: female. Very dark skin, silver-colored little puffs of hair, “almost beautiful enough to be in the entertainment media.”

Tlacey

· Augmented human female

Tlacey’s ComfortUnit

· Physical configuration doesn’t match SecUnit standard.

· Lots of hair, silver with blue and purple on the ends, pulled back and braided like Tapan’s but in a much more complicated pattern.

· Bare arms show no metal, and no gun ports

Targets (Network Effect)

· When fully affected: look like tall, thin augmented humans. Dull gray skin. Narrow human features, dark brows standing out against smooth gray skin. Colorless lips.

· Not completely identical: one Target on ship is slightly taller and has broader shoulders than the other.

· Targets on ships: wearing formfitting protective suits and partial helmets that initially left a lot of their faces bare. One on the B-E explorer wore “more casual human clothing:” dark green-black pants and jacket, black shirt with a collar. Shoes had heavy treads, designed for rough planetary terrain. Hair looked more normal, with reddish brown tight curls cut close to the head.

· Targets and colonists: gray skin is a progressive condition, not natural or cosmetic effect, some still look like humans who were altered rather than aliens. Not all who still looked somewhat human were fighting on the same side. Most of fighting group wore “the kind of rough work clothing normal for colonies or mining, a cheaper, more battered version of ART’s environment suits with hoods but no breathing gear, or a mix of clean work clothes, plus a random collection of what looked like old uniforms and protective gear.”

Barish-Estranza, Eletra, Ras, and Supervisor Leonide

· B-E uniforms are red and brown with corporate logos

· Eletra and Ras both wear B-E uniforms that are disheveled and torn.

· Eletra has brown skin and dark hair that reaches at least to her shoulder blades.

· Supervisor Leonide has “mid brown” skin “that was common to a large percentage of humans,” with an artificially smooth, even tone that indicated cosmetic enhancement. Dark hair wrapped around the top of her head and she has small metallic and gemstones set in the rim of one exposed ear.

Augments

· According to MB, are “supposed to help humans do things they couldn’t do otherwise, like interface with the feed more completely or store memory archives.”

· Augments that aren’t feed interfaces are meant to correct physical injuries or illnesses.

· Augments are meant to be helpful. Implants are different (MB compares implants to governor modules, something the person has little to no control over)

· Normal augment would have filaments extending directly into the human nervous system. Some augmented humans may have dataports/plug-in interfaces in the back of their necks, since MB is able to pass off its dataport as one of these often.

· Normal augmented human (augmented with feed) has interface built into brain; non-augmented humans have removable interfaces (excluding implants, which seem to be regular interfaces just not removable without surgery).

· Augments and constructs work with “machine-readable code written into human DNA”

· Augmented humans can work more fully in the feed; MB thinks that the drugged-up GrayCris assassins wouldn’t be possible to control with a removable interface, so the controller must be augmented (and this proves correct).

Other Human Personal Tech

· Un-augmented humans can’t access the feed unless their interface is working and attached properly. Tapan’s in-ear interface was taken out while ART’s MedSystem worked, and she had to put it back in before she contacted her partners.

· “Normal external interfaces for humans were designed to look like all kinds of things, from carved natural wood to skin tones to jewels or stones or enamel art pieces to actual plain metal with a brand logo.”

· Human voices on the feed sound like their physical voices, and can show emotions. Humans (and augmented humans) usually subvocalize when talking on the feed.

· During killware attack in ES, Pin-Lee, Mensah and two crewmembers each has portable manual feed interfaces they used to shore up SecSystem; allowing them feed access without using their personal on-body interfaces.

· MB says in AC that killware and malware can’t do anything to humans or augmented humans; the killware attack in ES hurts augmented humans enough that one needs rescue breathing. This could be MB’s lack of knowledge, or it could be because the ES killware is rare, essentially a disembodied bot and an extremely uncommon/unheard of tactic.

Other Bots/Machines

· Agricultural bot: almost 10 meters (~32 feet) tall, covered with spikes. Lower body has 10 long spider limbs for moving around without crushing anything, upper part is a long curving “neck” with a long head also covered in spikes

· Pathfinders: like drone for space. Active scanners that can zip around a planet collecting environmental information and terrain imaging, plus looking for comm signals, possible energy sources, and hostiles. Can relay audio as ART uses it to threaten Targets. Very expensive.

· Drones used by NE Targets: model MB is unfamiliar with. Round and as big around as MB’s head, any holes for cameras or weapons hidden despite size. Made of stealth material (or pattern) that can’t be spotted by camera, but regular vision OK.

· Drones used in ASR, pulled from the hopper: “They were the small kind, barely a centimeter across; no weapons, just cameras.”

· Also in ASR, MB mentions that there also exist drones that aren’t much bigger than the hopper drones but include a small pulse weapon (but as far as availability through the company, you have to get an upper tier package)

· MB’s regular drones: small enough that it can have a flock (at least a couple dozen?) land on it and not impede movement in an EVAC suit. MB mentions technique where it can have drone accelerate a drone straight at a target’s face, and if hit an eye or an ear it goes straight to the brain, so probably fairly small. They are also easy to visually overlook when perched in a room recording people, or sneaking through a doorway. They’re also easy to store in MB’s many pockets.

#Murderbot #Murderbot Diaries #Network Effect #Martha Wells #Reference

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jiminwreckedme · 4 years

Text

The Cottage of the Seven Dads.

DIMPLE (2)

Other drabbles - Masterpost

Members - OT7 bangtan (reader insert also present.)

Word count - 3.4K

Genre - pure bangtan as dads fluff. (Rated G)

“Yes, we are her fathers and no, we are not gay.”

A/n - The drabbles follow an order, it’s suggested you read the previous parts as listed in the masterpost to to understand the follow of events!

“No, don’t give it to me, I don’t know how to hold it!”

“It?” Hoseok raises his eyebrows at him, looking up from the baby in Taehyung’s arm’s. “Namjoon-ah, It? That’s our daughter you’re talking about.”

“Son.” Jimin interrupts. “That’s the boy. This,” He turns to Jungkook who is cradling the other twin in his arms. “This is our daughter.”

“No, this is the girl.” Hoseok insists. “Look at her eyes, they’re so pretty.”

Jimin almost looks offended. “Yes, because men can’t have pretty eyes.”

“That’s not what I meant-“

“They both have pretty eyes.”

You’re the only one who catches Jungkook’s soft whisper as he looks at his child like it’s the most precious thing he has ever seen.

For the last half an hour, the seven men had been experiencing all sorts of emotions at the news of their newly born children.

Jimin screamed and insisted no one told them they were having twins and Jin argued that they knew all along. Jungkook became more silent than usual, face turning pale as he stood behind Namjoon who refused to let anyone enter the room without making sure they had washed their hands up to their elbows. Taehyung was oblivious to everything, just jumping in absolute excitement while Yoongi protected Aria from the former’s attempts to spin her around in his joy. Hoseok just stood dumbfounded, as though it just hit him that they were fathers to not one but three children now.

“Why can’t they wrap them in blue and pink towels instead of white?” Taehyung sighs as the argument you had zoned out from begins to escalate to unnecessary levels. “That should make a little easier to tell them apart isn’t it?”

Yoongi let’s go Aria’s hand and covers her ears instead. “Yes, that’s what we teach our children, that 2 colors are the way to identify sexes.”

“What do you want me to do now?” Taehyung looks at Yoongi incredulously “Unwrap this beautifully done swaddle and check if he has a penis?”

Hoseok winces, looking at Aria who’s ears Yoongi stubbornly still covered. “Can you not use such words around our daughter?”

“Penis is a biological term,” Namjoon crosses his arms. “What’s wrong in saying that?”

“Yeah Penis isn’t inappropriate,” Jimin backs him up. “Now if you use some other words like dick or cock then-“

“Shut up!” Hoseok’s eyes widen. “We have 3 children for god’s sake Jimin.”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah at least spell D-I-C-K instead of saying the word-“

“What makes you think Aria can’t spell?” Namjoon almost looks offended. “She’s like eight.”

You turn to Jimin who looks at the baby in Jungkook’s arms and points at it. “You are zero years old, since we start from scratch with you, let’s get at least your age right.”

“But what’s the point?” Hoseok continues to argue. “She will know how to spell someday and that’s what you want her to go around the house saying? D-I-C-K?”

“No, I mean-“

“She already knows how to spell-“

“-and the twins? Imagine the first spelling they hear is D-I-C-K-“

“They are not going to remember it, they are half an hour old!”

“Wow, at least everyone knows the age of one of our children-“

“Two. They are twins, remember?”

“Great, I’m still the one always wrong-“

“Ok, everyone shut up!”

Everyone falls silent as Jin’s voice rings across the room. “Namjoon, stop calling our child it, they aren’t a clown miserably failing at being scary.” He turns to Hoseok. “And you, stop being on the edge about everything, it’s okay to let things slide sometimes.” Jimin hides behind Jungkook knowing he’s next. “Park Jimin, no inappropriate language before our children, I don’t care if you say it or spell it and Taehyung, yes, the babies are too young to tell them apart, and no we aren’t going to do so with pink and blue colors, they are both our children and so they will both be brought up the same way.” He then sighs, pointing at Yoongi. “Please take your hands away from Aria’s ears before she verbally attacks you for depriving you of her rights or something and Jeon Jungkook!” Jungkook looks up, taken aback. “Stop rubbing your face all over the baby, move back.”

“But they smell so good!” He whines. “Even the blankets smell so good, I wonder what detergent they use-”

“Hyung.” Taehyung steps up, trying to hold back his laughter. “We get what you’re trying to say and I’m sorry but….but no one can take you seriously with……” His laughter escapes him, just a little. “With that thing on.”

And with that every breaks into fits of laughter and so do you because, well, he did look ridiculous.

When everyone had stepped into the room to see the baby, Jin excused himself quickly and disappeared for quite some time. Just as they began wondering where he went, he returned wearing two sponge objects which on the basis of its shape and location looked a lot like……boobs.

“But you, Kim Namjoon!” He points an angrily shaking finger. “You said that babies should be put on the mother’s chest after they are born-“

“Skin on skin hyung!” Namjoon turns serious, like his intellect was challenged. “They put a naked baby on the mother’s bare chest to let them feel the skin on skin. It’s meant for stabilizing their temperature, heart rate, breathing rate, things of that sort because the mother is the only familiar environment for the baby when it comes out…..those boobs won’t help in anyway.”

Nobody sees Yoongi covering Aria’s ears again.

“Ok fine! I thought I was being considerate.” Jin hurriedly tries to remove his apparel as Jimin helps him unbuckle it from the back. “I thought I would provide some maternal support to the babies but you idiotic-“

“Oh my god!” Jungkook shrieks out of nowhere, sending everyone into a panicky frenzy. “Hyung, hyung, hyung, I think she has dimples!”

“What?” Jin immediately throws aside whatever in the world he was wearing and takes the baby in his arms as everyone gathers around him, trying to get a good look.

“Oh she does!” Namjoon shrieks in a loud whisper, pointing as the baby moves her mouth in her sleep, a small dent forming on her cheek. “Just like me!”

“What about him?” Yoongi peers over Hoseok’s shoulder looking at their son. “Does he?”

There’s utter silence as they all watch, almost unmoving,

“Wake him up.”

“Shut up Kim Taehyung.”

“Stop being rude Yoongi.”

“Why would we wake up a sleeping child hyung? They are such monsters when they are all awake and crying-“

Hoseok sighs. “Our child is half an hour old and you already-“

“He does too!” Jungkook points excited.

“Lower your volume-”

“And his are deeper than hers-“

“Such angels, both of them-“

“How is it that we have two of the most beautiful children in the world?”

“Excuse me.”

Everyone turns to see Aria standing in the exact place Yoongi left her as he rushed in his excitement. Their faces immediately morph into a mixture of guilt and fondness.

“I need to pee.”

“Someone’s jealous.” Taehyung mutters smiling.

“I’m not jealous.” She crosses her arms, feigning indifference. How could she not be jealous? She had seven amazing fathers and she was used to the attention she was no longer getting.

“I just need to pee.”

“Alright, I’ll bring you-“

“Kim Namjoon, no.” Yoongi stops him with an arm across his chest. “You just want to make excuses to not carry the twins, get you shit- I mean stuff together and hold our children. Someone else can….” He looks around at the room for volunteers and upon getting none, he sighs. “Ok then, I’ll bring her.”

“I can bring her.” You offer, seeing how despite agreeing to, deep down Yoongi wanted to be with the newly born babies.

“Does that mean I can go to the girl’s toilet?” Aria runs up to you, looking up with her big doe eyes. “Please tell me that for once I don’t have to go to the boy’s toilet? I don’t like it.”

You laugh as Hoseok hands the baby in his arms to Yoongi who gives the former a grateful look. “It’s alright, I’ll bring Aria.” Hoseok walks up to Aria holding her hand. “Aria, Ms.Y/n has already helped us so much, we can’t trouble her anymore.”

“I really don’t mind.” You insist, looking at Aria’s hopeful eyes. “You should stay with the-“

“I need to pee too.” Jimin walks up casually, making the decision. “Come on, let’s just all go.”

You look at Hoseok who turns around and points at Namjoon. “You better have held at least one of them by the time I’m back.”

As Namjoon swallows uncertainly you follow Jimin who walks ahead with his hands stowed in his pockets. Aria runs up to you, dragging Hoseok along with her, holding your other hand. You and Hoseok smile at each other for a brief second before you look away. You remind yourself for about the tenth time now that he’s her father and way out of bounds.

“Namjoon hyung is a little scared of children.”

Jimin turns around, walking backwards, making Hoseok keep an eye behind him.

“Careful Jimin-ah”

You smile all knowingly. “Let me guess, did he baby-proof the entire house months ago?”

Jimin looks at you shocked. “It’s like you were there.”

“The most terrified parents tend to be the most careful ones.”

“True.” Jimin muses. “Taehyung is the exact opposite, not the least bit scared, not the least bit careful.”

Aria shakes her head. “Taetae is not careless.”

“Yes grandma” Hoseok sighs but not annoyed. “We all know you can’t hear a word against your Taetae.”

“I won’t hear a word against any of you.” She adds casually, making both her fathers’ look at her with the adoration they always have. “If you promise I can start going to the girl’s toilet from now on.”

Jimin laughs, stopping his tracks at their destination. “You haven’t grown old enough for that Aria.”

Before she grows upset Hoseok quickly crouches before the pouting girl. “Remember what we teach you Aria, always be happy with what you have. Shouldn’t you be happy you’re getting the chance to at least go today?”

She nods, losing her pout as he points. “The ladies one is right there. Congratulations on your first ever visit, princess.”

“Yay, finally!” She drops a kiss on Hoseok’s cheek, and runs in, pulling a laughing you along with her. She stops just before the mirrors, taking a good look at her new surroundings, pointing around.

“Oh, it’s not there in the girl’s washroom.”

“What’s not there?”

“The ones in which my dads pee.”

You nearly choke for some reason. “G-girls don’t need that to pee right Aria?”

She nods, pointing at the first cubicle right across her. “Can I go there to pee then?”

You nod too, looking at the bad slung on her shoulders. “Do you want me to help hold that?”

“Oh,” She puts her short arms behind and touches it as though she just realized she was carrying it. Without an explanation she bolts right out, ignoring your calls for her and returns in less than a minute, her backpack missing. “It’s okay, I gave it to daddy! Thank you!” She flashes a brilliant smile before waddling in and you smile, heart filled with warmth.

Maybe you should really reconsider the resignation letter you had submitted to your boss yesterday. You really liked your job and coming from a huge family of multiple siblings, you were really good at it as well. But it was getting exhausting. With the work force reducing over the last few months and no new people being recruited, the burden on your shoulder was getting heavier. Which would have been alright if you were compensated with an increased payment but despite hinting it to your boss over and over again, you didn’t get a single positive response. So, your only option was to quit. Love your job, not your company, right?

But you were so easily attached to children. You barely knew Aria for an hour now and you were already worrying about letting her go. How were you going to leave all those children behind and move on? Was this a sign that you should’ve just considered staying in your current job?

At the sounds of struggle, you turn around to see Aria on the tips of her toes, attempting to reach for the tap which was clearly too tall for her. Lifting her by the waist, you let her wash her hands as she diligently scrubs and scrubs and scrubs. When you let her go, she runs to the dryer and puts her hands underneath the heat, breaking out into a song.

“After my wash I try try try, to wipe myself till I’m dry dry dry…..” You frown amused as she trails off mid-way. “But I’m not wiping, am I? So should I sing, ‘to heat my hands till they’re dry dry dry.’?”

You laugh as she questions you with utmost seriousness before clearing your throat and mimicking her demeanor. “I guess you can.”

As she waves her hands at you, showing you that they had dried, you follow her out. “Who taught you that song?”

“Daddy.” She points at Hoseok who stands there with her little bag slung over one of his shoulders, scrolling through his phone, talking to Jimin. “He always wipes me down with this song after my bath!”

As she runs up to them, Jimin crosses his arms, “Did you wash your hands Aria?”

“Yes and dried it too!” She holds it up.

“Good.” Hoseok holds out her bag. “Here you go.”

She takes it and then turns to Jimin pouting, “Can you carry it for me dada?”

The older man shakes his head as Jimin immediately complies, taking it from her. “We are supposed to carry our own stuff remember? You spoil her Jimin.”

Jimin laughs away the other man’s worries, “It’s alright hyung.” He bends down, pointing at his cheek. “I deserve a kiss for this now.”

“Why?”

“You gave one to daddy earlier, but you forgot me.”

“I didn’t forget you.”

“How come you didn’t kiss me?” That’s where Aria get’s her pout from. From Park Jimin.

“Ok, I’ll kiss you now.”

“Then why are you walking back?”

“If you want a kiss you must come to me.”

“Aria, no, come back here.”

“Catch me first!” And she bolts, happily gotten rid of this additional weight.

“Ya! We’re not supposed to run around the hospital, Aria, wait!” Jimin runs after her.

“You’re just saying that to catch me, aren’t you dada?” As she sneers playfully, their voices begin drifting off, leaving you to walk alone with Hoseok. Again.

“She has different names for you all.” You notice verbally. “It’s endearing.”

“Yeah, she chose them herself.” He smiles, as though he is reminded of a very fond memory. “Dada was the first word she ever said when we had her and since she chose to call Jimin that, he’s very happy with his. Me on the other hand, not so much.”

“Why not?”

Hoseok hesitates but can’t avoid your raised eyebrows. “Let’s just say I can’t see the word daddy in any other context now.”

It takes you a good few seconds, but when you understand, you burst out laughing.

“Too much information?” He blushes, “Sometimes I forget how different life after becoming a parent is. After all, for the last three years, there has only been room for one woman in my life.” He smiles at the far away, tiny figures of Jimin who had finally caught Aria and managed to get his kiss. “And there never can be space for another one.”

“I’m afraid you have to make that space Hoseok.” He frowns at your statement, confused. “In case you forgot, you have another daughter now. And a son who need to fit in there.”

“Right.” He laughs. “I still can’t believe it…..I have no idea how we are going to handle this.”

“All of you will do great.” You assure him. “Look at Aria, she’s growing up into such a wonderful child and more than anything, she’s such a happy child. If you ask me, the twins are lucky to come into this household.”

“It’s different from Aria now,” He shakes his head. “We didn’t have her the moment she was born, like the twins. She was almost a year and a half by the time she came to us. Handling newborns is not exactly an experience we’ve had, we’re all clueless when it comes to what to do and what not to do. For the last few months it’s just been reading tons of parenting books and taking classes and having way too many arguments over all the decision making.” He ever so slightly rolls his eyes. “Seven very different men give seven different very different opinions on everything you see.”

“You’d think in a house with seven parents, it’s easier.”

“I wish,” He laughs beautifully. “Not gonna lie but it’s actually seven times the work. I think you can tell, sometimes it gets a little chaotic.”

“Sometimes?” You question amused. “It seems like there is never a quiet moment in the house.”

Hoseok opens the door to two loudly crying babies and six absolutely confused men.

Jin and Taehyung are desperately trying to calm the wailing babies in their arms. Aria had crawled into Yoongi’s lap, this time shutting her ears by herself, looking mortified. Jungkook and Jimin were scrounging around all the bags in the room.

“Where is the breast pump??”

“I don’t know hyung, I’m looking for it!”

“How do we even know they are hungry? What if they are sleepy?”

“Clearly they are not falling back asleep!”

“Kim Taehyung, who the fuc-fish, told you to wake them up?”

“I didn’t do a damn thing! I just wanted to see her dimples once more!”

“Then you should make her smile, why is she crying?”

“I don’t know, who even knows what babies think!”

“It’s Namjoon hyung’s fault, what’s so difficult about holdind a child?”

“I told you, I don’t know how to!”

“I found the bottles!”

“Where are the goddamn breast pumps!”

“Is it this?”

“No, you dimwit, that’s Jin hyung’s fake boobs!”

“There’s a sentence I never thought I would hear.”

“Shut up Min Yoongi and please handle our first born, she is petrified.”

“When will you all stop using vocabulary I cannot understand?”

“WHERE IS THE GODDAMN BREAST PUMP?”

Hoseok turns to you sighing, “You’re right, there’s never a quiet moment.”

“Hoseokie hyung!” Taehyung walks up to the two of you. “All of us tried every possible thing to calm them down, your turn now.”

“May I?” You offer and Taehyung looks around the room, gaining their approving nods before handing the child to you. Holding her carefully, you loosen the swaddle just a bit and walk around, patting her softly, as Taehyung tiredly sinks onto the couch beside Yoongi. As everyone grows progressively silent, it takes less than a few minutes for her to shut her small eyes and doze off into a deep slumber.

“He’s-“ Jin glances at the baby in his own hands and then shakes his head. “I mean she. She’s asleep?”

The rest of the men look amazed as you slowly place the baby in her cradle.

“I FOUND-“

“SHHHH.” Seven harsh whispers fill the room as Jimin’s mouth forms an O, understanding the newly unfolded turn of events.

As you place her down in the cradle and turn, Jin looks at you hopefully and you comply, taking the other child from him as well, letting him join the other boys in having their moment of rest. You look at the how the small baby in your arms lets out an adorable yawn, those dimples forming on his cheeks again.

They say everything in life happens for a reason. Meeting this family would’ve happened for a reason too right? Maybe it was for this moment. As you sing the lullaby all the kids in your daycare love to fall asleep to and watch the young boy’s eyes slowly flutter shut, you wonder if it was for this moment that you came across Aria and her fathers. To realize that maybe your job wasn’t so bad after all. Perhaps you should try to have a heart to heart talk with you boss again instead of quitting because yes, money was important but you don’t think there was anything else that could give you the satisfaction this job did.

You slowly place the baby into the other empty cradle, tucking him in and calming him down with a few more soft pats. When you let out a sigh of relief and turn around the sight makes you smile wider.

All seven of them had settled down in the couches and were fast asleep on each other’s shoulders, a sleeping Aria curled up on Yoongi’s lap, Jin’s fake boobs and the breast pump Jimin found also nestled between the men.

Slowly walking out, you quietly close the door behind you and stow the memories of the last few hours carefully in your head.

#btswriterscollective #btsguild #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts as dads #bangtan as dads #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #dad kim namjoon #dad kim seokjin #dad min yoongi #dad jung hoseok #dad park jimin #dad kim taehyung #dad jeon jungkook

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1245

Serious question, peanut butter or nutella? Oh you are just mean. Nutella is amazing as a filling or icing, but when it comes down to it I guess I look for peanut butter more often. I love both though.

Do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? Mashed. But baked potatoes are pretty good too; the only reason I didn’t pick it is that I don’t get to have it as often as I do mashed.

What is your oldest sibling’s middle name? I’m the eldest sibling, but my sister, who comes after me, has Beatrice as her second name if that’s what you mean by middle name.

Do you like breadsticks? Yes. The more cheesy-garlicky, the better.

What are your favorite things to spend money on? Merch or food.

Which would you rather have a new puppy or kitten? Puppy. Not the biggest fan of cats.

How old will you be on your next birthday? 24.

Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? If it’s the combination of having to be around people I’m not too close with, like workmates, and I’m eating something that tends to be messy, like jjajangmyeon, then yeah I can definitely feel conscious.

When you opened your eyes this morning, what were your first thoughts? I fell asleep from 11 PM to around 3 AM and when I woke up then I thought “ugh, I fell asleep early again?”

What is one thing in the room you’re in that reminds you of somebody? My vape pen constantly reminds me of Andi because they were the one who gave it to me.

Could you ever be friends with somebody who was homophobic? No.

Would you ever want to be a supermodel, or date one? I did want to be one, at one point. It was all a matter of being stuck with the wrong crowd at the time lol.

Honestly, have you ever made fun of somebody so bad they cried? Probably with my sister when we were very young.

Honestly, would you rather be complimented on your looks or intelligence? Intelligence.

Have you ever purchased a pregnancy test, for yourself or otherwise? I never have.

You can get one thing, anything, for free right now. What do you pick? Why? A 1 or 2 TB hard drive. My phone has reached the stage where I’m starting to have to constantly delete shit so I don’t reach the maximum storage, so I need someplace to dump all my photos and videos in to free up my phone.

Honestly, have you ever danced naked? Nope.

What was the first illegal thing that you did? Did you get caught? I dunno...buy pirated movies? I didn’t get ‘caught’ since pirated movie stalls are widespread here anyway, so for the most part I’ve always been more concerned for them than I am for myself.

What is the home page on the computer you’re on? Technically it’s supposed to be the Google home screen, but I have an extension that shows me my to-do list for the day.

Do you like to write poetry? Nah, that’s always been my Achilles’ heel when it comes to writing.

Are your ears pierced? Yup. Surprisingly enough they’ve never closed up despite never having worn earrings (clip-ons notwithstanding) in the last 13 years.

If so, were they pierced with a piercing gun, or with a sterile needle? I’m not sure, since my mom had them pierced when I was a baby. I would guess piercing gun, though.

Do you wear makeup regularly? I never wear makeup.

Did you eat cereal for breakfast today? I never have cereal unless I’m staying at hotels. It’s just never been something I look for.

When was the last time you tripped over something? A box that was lying around in my room.

Any obsessive-compulsive tendencies? I’ll sometimes get concerned with how many times I have to flick the switch of our hot water dispenser or open and close the refrigerator door before I feel completely satisfied...but I dunno if that counts.

Who was the last person you yelled at? Technically...Angela? I was filming an unboxing video for a gift she randomly got me and I loved the gift so much I was yelling my excitement through the screen.

Why did you yell at them? ^ That.

Favorite type of apple? I don’t like fruits.

Ever seen live horse racing? No, it’s not something that interests me.

How about live greyhound racing? I don’t even know what that looks like.

What’s one thing, besides the obvious, that you couldn’t live without? The arts, I guess. I need something to listen to, to watch, etc on a regular basis.

Have you ever touched a giraffe? I don’t think so.

What does your mom call you? Robyn, or the Filipino term parents use for their kids.

What stresses you out the most in life? A particular client at work. We have a million campaigns going on for them at any given point so my life virtually revolves around that brand these days.

Do you play any PC games? What is your favorite? Nope.

If you were pregnant, how would you tell the father? Well, that would depend on the circumstances. Did we want a baby? Was it a bad surprise, a happy surprise? I can't answer this with just one idea. < Yeah.

What’s the hardest level you can play on Guitar Hero? If I’m using a Playstation controller, I can go Hard or Expert. But my finger coordination with the actual guitar controller is terrible and I fail most songs even at Easy.

What ever happened with you and your first boyfriend? There was never any ‘boyfriend,’ but my first girlfriend and I have basically had a falling out and I haven’t talked to her in months, and I expect it to continue being that way.

What’s your favorite country song? I don’t have any.

What is the worst thing a former boyfriend/girlfriend has done to you? Putting her pride and anger first even when I’m obviously in a state of disstress or breakdown in front of her. That’s some emotional rollercoaster I’m glad I don’t have to deal with anymore.

What were you for Halloween last year? Just Dora the Explorer again, which was a repeat from the year before that.

Are you feeling guilty for something? I don’t think so; at least there isn’t anything I’m actively feeling guilty about at the moment.

Are you usually quiet or loud? I think I’m in between? I’m pretty loud but I can space out at the most random moments hahaha.

How many hours do you spend on the computer a day? This question always makes me wince at myself...I guess anywhere between 16-18 hours? The only time I put my laptop down is when I’m off to bed, but otherwise it’s constantly open.

What is the show that you watched when you were little, and you still do? I don’t think there is such a show.

Do your siblings text you? Nope. We live under the same roof 24/7 so there’s been little need to text.

Do you want a small or big wedding? Big.

Have you ever searched for your own house on Google Earth? Yes, but that was when Google Earth was still super bare so I wasn’t able to see the actual house anyway, but just the general area where we’re located. I haven’t used Google Earth in years.

Who is your ex dating/talking to? I don’t know and I hoooonestly could not care less.

Ever kissed someone who smokes? Yep.

Does it take a lot for someone to annoy you? Depends on my mood. I have my moments where it’s very easy for me to get irritated.

Do you own your own computer? I mean it was bought for me, but I didn’t get it with money I earned.

Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings? When my brother was starting to mature, my sister and I very very briefly experimented sharing a room, but it lasted like all of two weeks. My parents ultimately just transferred our balcony to a bedroom so that all three of us had our own rooms.

What noises in the room you’re in, do you hear at the moment? An airplane is flying above me at the moment so I can hear its engine. I can also hear some crickets chirping and the faint barking of dogs.

Have you ever dated someone with longer hair than yours? Yup.

What’s the biggest upcoming event for you? I guess my second vaccine dose is kinda big? It’s happening this Friday.

What do you typically order from Wendy’s? I rarely get Wendy’s tbh, but when I do I usually go for their Baconator.

Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? No, it’s not something I would be into.

What do you love most about yourself? Continued the next day because I am terrible at taking a survey in one go. I like that I don’t hesitate to do or buy things for my loved ones, not even inwardly. I guess it’s because my family has always lived very practically, so I want to make up for that by spoiling my friends.

Have you ever received a hickey from the last person you kissed? Yes.

What are you doing right now? I am supposed to be at work but it’s a relatively quiet day, so I’m here. I do have my screen split between Tumblr and my emails though, so that I’d be able to see if new work will come in hahaha.

What’s bothering you right now? Quiet work days always make me anxious because it makes me think if I’m forgetting about something crucial.

What was the last thing you drank? I literally just took a sip of my coffee before moving on to this question.

Be honest, do you like people in general? Depends on the situation, I think. Like when I go to concerts, I know I’m around people I share the same interests with, so there’s a sense of solidarity that goes with that. But when I’m like...I dunno, lining up to get my license renewed at a government office, I know people there are in a rush and tend to get rude, and that makes me feel a little bit overwhelmed. I don’t think this is something I can generalize.

Do you want your tongue pierced? No. Lip I can consider, but I have to pass on tongue.

Do you change your phone background a lot? I do these days, yeah.

Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? Possibly.

Have you ever been strip searched? I’ve been searched, but was never asked to strip.

Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? No, it’s an ordinary surname.

Ever have a drug overdose? What did you OD on exactly? Never.

Do you get sick of people who call themselves bipolar all the time? I get sick of people who call themselves bipolar, and of people who use ‘bipolar’ to describe someone else who just has your typical mood swings.

Describe your day so far in three words: Business as usual.

What was the most stressful project you had so far/while in school? I was once designated as a leader for a science investigative project, which didn’t make sense because science was definitely not my strongest point. Needless to say it didn’t go well and I ended up being a terrible leader. Choose one- Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Butterfinger, even though they’re a bitch to eat and chew.

Have you ever stepped in dog poop? Maybe once or twice. It fortunately doesn’t happen a lot.

What was the last thing you spent money on? I got Angela and Reena cheese tarts. The reason behind it was Jin held a VLIve last Monday and he had been eating egg tarts during the stream; and because I was happy to have watched my first Jin live, I got my friends cheese tarts hahaha. I don’t know a lot of places that sells good egg tarts so I settled for cheese tarts instead, which I think are better anyway.

Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah.

Is there a guy that knows a lot about you? I guess Hans? We personally don’t get to have a lot of heart-to-heart exchanges, but considering how Angela’s my greatest confidante I’m sure she has shared bits of my life to him, which I don’t mind.

Is there someone you just can’t imagine your life without? I don’t really like answering this question anymore because the people that I’ve declared ‘for keeps’ have faded out of my life at some point. I’m a lot more guarded and self-preservation-y when it comes to this now.

Do you prefer Starbucks coffee or small cafe coffee? Ooooh, both. I love coffee.

Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? No.

Do you enjoy being outdoors? If the weather is nice, yes.

Do people tell you that you have an accent? I mean I’ve been told my English is strong, but my accent in particular doesn’t really get noted.

Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? I don’t celebrate that.

What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? I don’t like talking about my brother. Otherwise I am pretty open about everything.

Is there anyone you would take a bullet for? Several people come to mind.

Do you enjoy tanning? If I’m at the beach, sure. It’s honestly not something I have to constantly keep up with, though, since I’m already naturally tan enough. Are you a virgin? No.

Who’s your celebrity crush? Taehyung :(

Did or do you get good grades in English class? I always got pretty good grades in English.

What part of your body are you self-conscious about? Teeth, and my legs sometimes.

Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? I don’t celebrate that.

Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Yes.

Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Yes.

When was the last time you got a shot? Last month, then I’m getting my second dose tomorrow.

#survey #surveys

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

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Fic: Friends Forged in Fire and Chardonnay

Summary: Belle and Gold have shared a strange little friendship ever since she first came to town. When the library is threatened with closure, Gold offers to help Belle fight back, and discovers that perhaps the feelings run a little deeper, after all.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling October non-smut prompt: “Is there any reason as to why you’re getting drunk on a Tuesday afternoon?”

Rated: T

Friends Forged in Fire and Chardonnay

“Is there any reason as to why you’re getting drunk on a Tuesday afternoon?”

Although he tried to keep his tone light, Gold would admit to being slightly worried about Belle French. When he had come into the Rabbit Hole to collect the rent, it being the first day of the month and therefore rent day, he had certainly not expected to find her there, and he had certainly not expected to find her sitting at the bar with her chin pillowed on her arms, staring into the depths of a large, half-drunk glass of white wine.

From the empties on the bar beside her, it was clear that this was not the first such glass of wine that had received such a treatment this afternoon.

He slipped onto the bar stool next to her as she gave an emphatic groan, burying her face in her arms and attempting to ignore him. That was all right. He could wait. Belle would tell him her problems in her own time. He had plenty of time, after all. Despite it being the first of the month and therefore rent day, and despite the fact that Gold had come to the Rabbit Hole on the first day of the month to collect the rent ever since he had owned it, the management of the establishment always seemed taken aback by his appearance, and there was now, as there was always, a last ditch scramble to get the rent money together and present it to him.

As Belle continued to drown her sorrows, Gold reflected on his friendship with her. She was a comparative newcomer to the town, and as such she had not had time to become acquainted with his sometimes true, sometimes erroneous reputation before the two of them had met in person for the first time. It had been nice to get to know someone with a clean slate, as it were, and as the library, and Belle’s home above it, were among the few places in the town which did not have his name on the title deed, there was an ease to their strange little friendship that he did not have with most of the rest of Storybrooke’s residents. He was glad that they had continued to be friends despite everyone else of Belle’s acquaintance trying to warn her against him.

As such, he had developed something of a soft spot for her, one of very few true friends that he had, and certainly the only one that he saw on a regular basis. Naturally, when he found her in such a despondent mood, so different from her usual chirpy demeanour, he was concerned.

Eventually, Belle lifted her head up out of her arms and looked over at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, although it did not look like she had been crying, more that she had been incandescently angry and now all the fight had gone out of her.

“Since my entire world is falling down around my ears, I figured why not.” She took a large swallow of wine and then rummaged around in her purse, pulling out a dog-eared letter in an even more dog-eared envelope. “This came this morning.”

It was quite a feat for the paper to have become quite so crumpled in quite such a short space of time, but Gold knew that for all her usual happy-go-lucky demeanour, Belle had a fierce and fiery side when it mattered. He was surprised that the letter wasn’t in pieces. He took it and skimmed over the text.

It was a letter from the town hall informing Belle that the library would be closing at the end of the month and she would be required to leave the premises. It was an eviction notice in all but name, and there were no reasons given for this sudden swerve in the council’s direction concerning public services. Certainly, the library was not at all lucrative in a financial way, but it was one of the town’s most beloved and most frequented community hubs. It provided so much more than just books, and everyone, the council included, knew that. Closing the library would leave a huge hole in Storybrooke’s social life.

“Well, we can’t have this,” Gold said. Belle just looked at him, one eyebrow raised in incredulity.

“There’s not really a lot that we can do about it,” she pointed out. “The council’s decision is final, and they don’t normally go back on their word.”

Gold waved aside her concerns. “Politicians go back on their word all the time, and that’s all the council is, at a small and parochial level maybe, but still politicians at heart. Don’t lose heart, Belle. You can fight against this.”

She shook her head, going back to staring at her wine glass. “What can I do? I’m just one person and they’re a faceless phalanx of bureaucrats determined to suck the joy out of everything in the name of profits.” She paused. “You know, a lot of people in town would describe you that way.”

Gold laughed; he supposed that it was true in a way. “At least I’m not a faceless phalanx. There’s only one of me and everyone knows what I look like. Which is a shame - they can always see me coming and run away.”

That raised a smile from her, and Gold was glad to see it.

“Still,” he pressed on, determined to bring her out of her low mood. “You can still fight it. When it comes down to it, you’re more than just one person. Once the rest of the town finds out what’s happening, they’ll all rally to your aid. There’ll be protests outside the town hall in less than twenty-four hours. Placards and slogans and everything.”

Belle just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced and unimpressed.

“Right.”

“I mean it, and I didn’t mean to sound patronising. People will stand with you, Belle. Everyone loves the library; it would be a terrible thing if it closed down. But more than that, everyone loves you. You have so many friends in this town, so many people willing to back you up. Just ask anyone.”

Belle looked away, twisting the stem of her empty wine glass between her fingers with a sigh.

“Are you sure?” It pained him to see her so small and unsure of herself, when Belle had never been anything but outgoing and confident in all she did.

“I know it. And no matter what the rest of the town might do, you’ll always have me behind you.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smile, and she focussed her gaze back on him.

“Thank you. That means a lot, you know. And I know that whatever the rest of the town might think, you’re not determined to suck the joy out of everything in the name of profits.”

Gold scoffed. “Evidently I need to work on my reputation.”

Belle shook her head with a little laugh. “No, I don’t think so. I think that once everyone sees that you’re backing our attempt to save the library, your reputation will be completely and utterly ruined.”

At that point, the Rabbit Hole’s rent arrived, and Gold used the excuse of counting it to cover his abstraction. His thoughts were wholly preoccupied with his reputation, coming full circle to the notion that Belle had never really known his reputation before knowing him. It was something that he had come to wear as armour, always reasoning that he didn’t care what people thought of him, and that if they feared and despised him, then so much the better for increasing his power within the town. He had worn it for so long that he didn’t want to let go of it, but at the same time, perhaps it would be nice if people could see him in the same way that Belle saw him.

On the other hand, he didn’t really care how people saw him as long as Belle continued to see him in the light that she did. Her approval and friendship was inordinately important to him, and it had been for as long as they had known each other.

Ultimately, he knew that he would be willing to sacrifice the reputation that kept him aloof if it served to help Belle out of her current predicament. Who knew? Maybe it would bring even more people to their cause. The enemy of my enemy, and all that. If Gold was allying with Belle and fighting against something, then the something must be bad indeed.

“Thank you.”

Belle’s words brought him out of his cycle of thought, and he looked up at her, stowing the rent money in his inside pocket. She was smiling once more, a genuine smile with soft eyes, and for a moment it completely bowled him over.

“For what?”

“Thank you for having my back. The big, bad Mr Gold. You’re not as big and bad as you think, you know. And I like that. I like you.”

“Are you sure that’s not the wine talking?” Gold teased.

“Maybe. But what the wine says is true. I really like you.”

There was a long pause. Whilst Gold didn’t think that Belle was drunk enough not to be in control of her faculties, she was definitely tipsy enough for her inhibitions to have been lowered. He had to wonder if she’d regret her words once she sobered up, but for now, he chose to believe her. They were friends, after all; they had always been friends even without a few glasses of Chardonnay.

“I really like you too, and I’ll always have your back.”

Belle’s grin was positively luminous.

“Perfect. Give me a while to dry out, and then tomorrow morning, operation ‘save the library’ can commence.”

Gold laughed, offering Belle an arm as she slipped off her bar stool and they both made their way to the exit. He had no doubt that they would succeed in their mission, and if it brought them even closer together, well, then he would have to thank the council for enabling it.

And possibly thank the wine, too.

#A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #Fic: Fire and Chardonnay

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dickgrayson80sremixmp3 · 4 years

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batboys h.c. #1 - hair

dick

- dick uses custom shampoo and conditioner because he is a vain bitch who never grew out of his trust fund baby ways (i’m picturing like the function of one here purely bc that’s what i have #notanad)

- he enjoys choosing the different colours and experimenting with fragrances; currently he has pear and apple which he likes but his heart lies with vanilla milkshake (soft)

- he’s an early bird (ha) and always works out in the mornings so he showers and washes his hair then

- he finishes his showers with a blast of cold water (one of a few reasons his s/o refuses to share showers with him) - he claims it’s to wake him up but it’s really bc he heard it would make his hair shiny and dick is very willing to suffer for Beauty

- dick mastered the towel turban at a very young age

- but nowadays he has a special microfibre turban to reduce frizz

- picture dick grayson standing in his kitchen eating cereal and making a gross green smoothie wearing nothing but the tightest black boxers and a towel turban

- never say i don’t do anything for you

- when it comes to styling dick is all about volume

- when he takes his hair out of the turban he works a huge blob of mousse into it and then spends up to twenty minutes scrunching it until it looks perfectly tousled

- he likes to walk around while he does this so he has mirrors all over the apartment sure that’s the only reason

- he has a habit of running his hand through his hair though so however neatly styled it starts out it always becomes a messy heap within a couple of hours

- still v charming tho

jason

- jason is working his way down the curly hair aisle of his local beauty supply store. he picks up a different shampoo and conditioner set every time

- he’s friendly with the puerto rican women who own the store and sometimes asks them for advice

- they’ve recommended that he try a co-wash but he’s secretly worried it won’t be tough enough to clean blood and gotham harbour water out of his hair on a regular basis

- his actual routine is v basic though

- step 1: he showers when he comes in from patrol around 4/5am and washes his hair

- step 2: uses a ton of conditioner every time

- step 3: puts a towel over his pillowcase and goes the fuck to sleep

- naturally he wakes up with a mess

- drags himself to the bathroom sink, wets his hands, and rakes his fingers through his hair until his hair is at least more evenly distributed over his head

- it usually sorts itself out to some extent eventually and he spends so much time with a helmet on that he’s not too fussed about how it looks

- boom

- thatse it

- he does have a secret self care ritual - it’s not regular but every couple of weeks or so he covers his hair in a deep conditioning mask and tucks it into an old shower cap he found under the sink. next the face mask goes on, he gets a smoothie/glass of wine/elaborate cocktail depending on his mood, fluffy robe, and settles onto his sofa with a book for a couple hours

- he only does this when he’s sure to be alone and interrupting this ritual is liable to get you shot (ostensibly a warning shot but he’s not particular about where he aims said warning shot)

tim

- listen i love tim to death but the truth is he forgets to shower on an upsettingly regular basis and his hair gets greasy easily :(

- luckily all it usually takes is an ‘ew snape’ and he’s off to the bathroom at a light jog

- a freshly shampooed tim drake however is the most beautiful thing in the world

- somehow manages to have nineties boy floppy curtains in the year of our lord 2020 and not look like a prick

- this boy is a serial shampoo thief and it is not uncommon for him to walk into a room, someone to sniff the air, and promptly beat him up for hair product theft

- will he learn from this? absolutely not

- when his bangs get long enough he tucks them back behind his ears (it’s adorable)

- even more adorable is when his s/o starts leaving hair accessories lying about

- timothy drake-wayne sitting in the batcave looking sternly over his case notes with glittery butterfly clips holding his hair back

- he does not use a single styling product on his hair it just does that

- perfectly straight and shiny every time, no cowlicks, no frizz

- it’s infuriating

- after a disastrous experiment with bleach in his early teens tim resorted to a buzzcut rather than let it grow out

- the effect was,,,,interesting

- he’s constantly threatening to shave it again but everyone knows he won’t go through with it bc he heard a barista at his favourite coffee shop swooning over his hair once and now he brings it up every time someone criticises him

- ‘oh yeah well if i’m such a waste of space how come i have “““ the prettiest hair in the world ohmygod it looks so soft don’t you just wanna touch it”””, damian’

- no that’s not the reason it’s his favourite shop what are you talking about

duke

- used to have it all figured out but a recent change in career path has left him high and dry

- before becoming the signal duke’s hair was the best on his street - he favoured twist braids but he was considering locs

- wearing a helmet has kinda limited his options, so his hair is in cornrows for now to make sure his helmet fits properly but he’s not mad keen and he’s trying to figure out how to broach the subject with his barber without compromising his secret identity

- speaking of his barber there’s only one guy at one shop who duke trusts with his fade

- the shop is in south gotham

- as in the other goddamn end of the city

- it’s a fuck ass long drive from the manor

- every time he goes he looks wistfully at his old street as they pass (a fifteen minute walk from his shop)

- his stash of products at the manor are the only ones safe from tim

- it’s not that tim respected his boundaries or anything but the one time he used one of duke’s deep conditioners without checking he came out of the shower with oilier hair than he went in

- duke brought his own satin pillowcases to the manor bc he guessed (correctly) that bruce would never think of it

- they make jason snigger bc he thinks it’s like a sexy thing (ooOOoo SiLk ShEeTs)

- duke just looks over jason’s hair with a judgemental stare and tells him maybe his curl definition wouldn’t be so poor if he got satin pillowcases of his own

- (dick and tim: OOOOOOOOO)

- ((roy, somewhere in star city: OOOOO, artemis: wtf are you doing ? roy: didn’t you feel it? the burn?))

- this one got out of hand rip

damian

- when he was with his mother and the league he never concerned himself with the toiletries provided for him he just used them

- it’s only when he comes to america and is presented with fake apple scented goo that he misses what he had

- the issue is that he doesn’t even know how to start looking for his old products, and it’s not like he can just call talia up and ask her which shampoo she used on him as a child

- he does consider it though

- mostly he just sulks until dick takes pity and tries to help him figure it out

- it is not successful and damian is now somehow mad ???

- as a distraction and filled with regret dick buys him a shampoo bar, the decision primarily based on proximity and novelty value - he hopes the time it takes damian to figure it out will give him time to get away

- this is more like it - damian appreciates the more sophisticated sandalwood scent and also its environmental credentials

- the downside to the bar is that it’s somewhat drying

- damian solves this issue with the only product he can remember his mother using - moroccan argan oil

- as a result his hair is now smooth, shiny, and ethical as fuck

- it also smells nice, which is the only thing tim can think of while damian is furiously challenging him to a duel, the top of his head directly under tim’s nose

- as a young ‘un damian likes to gel his hair into a part swoopy, part spiked quiff, which both highlights the thickness and lustre of his hair and also adds a crucial few inches to his height

- as an adult though just keeping it swept back neatly away from his face is enough

(a/n i rlly wanted to include duke in these headcanons bc he gets left out a lot but idk much about afro hair so if any obvious mistakes jump out to anyone drop me an ask and i’ll edit!! will also be uploading a batgals post next)

#batboys headcanons #batfam headcanons #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #batman headcanons #dick grayson headcanon #jason todd headcanon #tim drake headcanon #duke thomas headcanon #damian wayne headcanon #batfam fic #batboys #batfam #i don't have any headcanons for bruce he uses two in one and is greying at the temples and still looks hot as fuck #writing #also all my product opinions in this are made up i've never even tried the vanilla function of i only have the coconut one they discontinued

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javajunkieao3 · 3 years

Text

Benny/Beth Fic: Being Alive - Part 9

For the next few months, Benny and Beth alternate visits between Kentucky and New York. They hadn’t discussed a permanent solution to their problem, which both of them knew they would have to eventually, but for now their arrangement was working. The US Open is in Vegas again and they meet in the Caesar’s Palace lobby. Benny makes some teasing comment but she has already dropped her luggage and thrown her arms around him.

“Geez guys, get a room,” a voice says behind them.

The voice belongs to one of two people, whose voices are as indiscernible as their identical faces.

“Hello boys,” Benny says smoothly, his arm slung over Beth’s shoulders. “Any insider tips for us?”

The twins were helping out at the tournament, no doubt swayed by the comped rooms and meals.

“You know we could disqualify you for even asking that,” Mike says good-naturedly, knowing Benny was only joking.

“The Federation could have us wired for all you know,” Matt adds.

“The Federation is too worried about brownnosing with Nixon to worry about who you two are talking to,” Benny says.

“He has a point,” Mike says. “We are very low on the totem pole.”

“Did you hear Gorsky is here?” Matt says, missing the way Beth’s face pales. “He wasn’t supposed to come, but he got added last minute. We had to rearrange all the initial plays.”

“We should rest-up before the games start this afternoon,” Beth says. “It was good seeing you two.”

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says. “We’ll see you guys later.”

Beth doesn’t talk on their way to the room, and after Benny opens the door she immediately runs over to the bathroom and pukes. Benny crouches next to her, rubbing her back.

“You don’t have to worry about Gorsky. You could beat him in your sleep.”

“I know.” She stands up and washes her mouth out in the sink.

Benny can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it further, and so instead he asks her, “What do you want to do for lunch? We can just order room service.”

Beth nods. “That sounds great. Thanks.”

She unpacks her suitcase and hangs her dresses up in the closet, carefully smoothing any wrinkles from the skirts. Benny watches her and asks, “Which one are you wearing today?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She usually has each day’s outfit planned in advance, but this time she had hesitated, throwing in more than enough for the three-day tournament. Her hand lingers on a cream shift dress that she brought. She planned to pair it with a turquoise cardigan, but quickly realizes she left it at home.

“How do burgers sound?” Benny asks from the bed, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder.

“Burgers sound great.”

----

After lunch, Beth settles on a deep green dress with white piping throughout the bodice, and she sits at the table for her first match. A short balding man sits across from her. He fidgets before they even start to play, and after her first decisive move, the fidgeting increases. In theory, all the players at the Open should be good, but she beats him in less than thirty minutes. She continued her streak, some games taking longer than others, and then she is finished for the day. Benny is still playing and she can tell from the board that it will be a long time before they are finished. Maybe even the possibility of an adjournment. Beth watches for twenty minutes or so and then stands, wandering through the casino. She stops at a roulette table and watches a group of nicely dressed couples play. As the roulette wheel spins, a familiar thought presses at the back of Beth’s mind.

She missed her period.

She’s thought about it at least on an hourly basis since she reached day 10, and then with each additional day, she thought about it more. The only time she didn’t think about it was when she was playing chess. Even during the easy games, her mind became too occupied by the board. It had been a relief that afternoon to just play. But then when it was over, the thoughts returned.

In the beginning, she could tell herself that it was because of stress. It was difficult with all the travel back and forth between Kentucky and New York, and she didn’t like being away from Benny. But then she started getting sick in the morning. And sometimes in the afternoon, too. At a certain point, she had to accept the reality of her situation. She was pregnant.

And she still hadn’t told Benny.

She walks past one of several bars in the casino, surprised when she recognizes the back of a head. Her feet propel her forward and she reaches out a hand that seems to cover his shoulder of its own accord.

“Townes?”

He turns around and she’s hugging him, just like in Moscow, and he murmurs, “Harmon, it sure is good to see you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m covering the tournament for the Kentucky Chronicle.”

She sits next to him and orders a club soda. It occurs to her that she now has more than one reason to do so.

“You look different,” he says, and for a panicked second she thinks that he knows. “You look happy.”

His words surprise her. Had she not looked happy before? She asks him that and he laughs slightly, shaking his head. “No, you seemed happy. But this is different. You seem, I don’t know, content.”

“I guess I am in a way.”

“I heard about you and Benny Watts,” Townes says. “I can’t say I wasn’t a little jealous.” She raises an eyebrow, her breath quickening, and he adds, “I’m just imaging all the great chess games you guys must play.”

Beth laughs, relieved by the turn that took. “We do play a lot of chess. But not all the time. Sometimes it surprises me how normal we are.”

“Normal is good.”

“How about you and Roger?” she asks.

“We’re doing good,” Townes says, taking a sip of his drink. It looks like whiskey. Beth couldn’t remember if she had ever seen him drink before. “So, what’s new with you? There has to be something since we last saw each other.”

It’s such an opportune question that she almost tells him. Because it’s Townes and something about him had always felt safe to her, even when her feelings confused things, but she doesn’t. She feels guilty for even thinking it.

“I’m going to start classes at a community college near me,” Beth says.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving us,” Townes says.

“No, I’m not leaving you,” she says with a grin. “Just exploring a bit.”

“I think that’s good,” he says, taking a sip of his whiskey. “There’s more to life than chess.”

She leans in and says, “I don’t think you’re supposed to say that at a chess tournament.”

He matches her stature and says, “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”

He grins and she can’t help herself from grinning back, and then someone clears their throat behind them.

“Benny Watts,” Townes says jovially. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” She can tell from his tone that he’s irritated.

“How’d your game go?” Beth asks, hoping to reduce the tension.

“We adjourned. Are you ready to get some dinner?”

Beth nods, slipping off her stool. “It was good to see you, Townes.”

“You too, Beth. Best of luck to you with everything.”

She nods and follows Benny out of the bar. He isn’t saying anything, which is how she knows that he’s mad.

“Benny-“

“Did I interrupt something over there?”

“Of course not. We were just talking.”

He nods, jaw clenched, and she doesn’t want to deal with a pissed off Benny all night, so she takes a hold of his arm and stops him. Before she can say anything, he asks, “Did you guys sleep together in Paris?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

Benny makes a sort of scoffing noise and she plants her hands on her hips. “Benny, we didn’t sleep together because Townes is gay.”

He blinks rapidly and says, “What?”

“It’s not exactly common knowledge, but he’s gay. And in a relationship. So, no, we didn’t sleep together. And, no, you didn’t walk in on anything back at the bar.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says. “I just heard some stuff before, and I just sort of assumed…”

“I know,” she says. “But, even if he wasn’t, there still wouldn’t have been anything happening at the bar.”

Benny looks chagrined, and he says, “I probably shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions there. My game wasn’t going like I wanted, so I came in a little hot to begin with, and then I saw you together…”

“Are you in bad shape for tomorrow?” she asks immediately.

“No, I should be fine. I just made a move I shouldn’t have, and he ran with it.”

“Do you want to go through some combinations tonight?”

Benny looks at her and says, “I’m a total jerk and you still want to go through combinations?”

“You’re the one who told me before that the Americans are at a disadvantage because we don’t work as a team.”

Benny smiles slightly and shakes his head. “Yeah, I did say that.”

“And you’re not a jerk. I understand why you thought you saw what you saw.” She wonders then if Cleo ever told him about her being in love with Townes. “So, dinner first?”

He nods, capturing her hand in his. “Yeah, dinner first.”

----

The next morning, Beth wakes up with a headache and immediate nerves. Ever since she almost told Townes about her pregnancy, it had become increasingly more apparent how she had not told Benny. At first, she rationalized it that she didn’t want to distract him from the game. But, she had been getting sick before she left for Vegas. The truth was, the moment that she told him it became real.

She purposely didn’t eat before her morning slate of games so that she wouldn’t get sick. But, it seemed that food had very little to do with the entire process, and she leaves her first game twice to dry heave into a waste basket in the women’s bathroom. It seems unfair that this can still happen and nothing comes up. She knows Benny noticed and when she gets up during her second game, Benny is waiting for her outside the bathroom.

“Beth, what’s going on?”

“I’m fine. I think I just ate something weird at breakfast.”

“You didn’t eat breakfast.”

Irritation crackles in her chest, and she snaps, “Benny, just leave it for now. I’m fine. We both have games to play.”

“What do you mean, leave it for now?”

She’s tired and her stomach hurts from all of the retching. All she wants to do is go sit back down at the chessboard and forget about everything else, but Benny is insistent, and she can tell from his stance that he isn’t going to go back to his game without an explanation.

“Fine,” she huffs. “If you must know, I’m pregnant.”

His eyes widen. “You’re what?”

“And I need to go back to my game before I have to go dry heave again in fifteen minutes. Excuse me.”

She walks back to her board, feeling marginally guilty when she sees Benny reappear, his face completely devoid of color. She forces her attention back on the board and is able to successfully close the game without having to go back to the bathroom. She quickly buys a muffin from a café between games and gets half of it down before she has to start her next game. She’s relieved to see that Benny wins his game. And then he wins his next too, and so does she. When the day is finally over, Beth is relieved until Benny comes up to her and says, “We have to talk.”

He waits until they are in their room and then asks, “Are you sure about this?”

“I’m a month late. So, yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

She expects him to share her consternation over the situation, but instead, he grins wide, placing his hands on her stomach.

“Stop that,” she says, swatting his hands away. “It’s not like anything is really there yet.”

“You’re not happy,” he says in disbelief.

“I don’t know what I am,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I know I said I wanted to explore life outside of chess, but this…this is an end to all of it.”

“That’s not true.”

“How can I possibly go to tournaments with a baby? And then if you get to go, I’ll just grow to resent you for it, and-“

“Hey, slow down,” he says, sitting next to her and taking a hold of her hands. “Who said you can’t go to tournaments?”

“Be practical.”

“I am. We can find a way to make this work.”

“How can we possibly make this work?” she asks, her voice strained. “Think of this weekend. How could we possibly make something like this weekend work with a baby?”

“We have family.”

“Oh, you mean your alcoholic mother? Or wait, what about me? Oh, that’s right, I’m an orphan whose adoptive father won’t even acknowledge exists.”

“Then we’ll bring the baby with us.”

“Benny, come on,” she says. It’s ridiculous and she doesn’t see how he doesn’t see that.

“We’re not the first people in chess to start a family. Borgov has a family.”

“Borgov’s wife doesn’t play chess. I’m not going to just become the person who holds the baby while you travel around the country, Benny. I won’t.”

“Do you really think I’d expect you to do that?” Benny asks sharply.

“No,” Beth admits. “I just don’t know how to do this. Any of it.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Benny repeats, his voice softening. “But this baby is a good thing.”

Beth looks over at him, and although she still believes this could all be a disaster, the look in his eyes makes her believe it a little less.

“How will becoming a father fit in with your image as the rock star of chess?”

He shakes his head and says, “As long as I’ve got you, I don’t need to be the rock star of anything.”

She holds his hands against her stomach and says, “I’m scared.”

“I know. But, we can handle this.”

He’s such a steady force. He always has been. Even when being around him made her heart beat like mad – either out of nerves in the beginning, or something else later on – there had been a sureness that he brought out in her. Sureness that she could learn to beat him. Sureness that she could learn to love him as much as he loved her. She looks down at his hands, getting a crazy idea, and it sounds even crazier when she says it aloud. “We should get married.”

“What?” Benny asks.

“We can just go down to one of those 24-hour chapels.”

“Is this because of the baby?”

“Partially,” Beth admits. She isn’t one for convention, but being a child born out of wedlock had left its scars. “But mostly, it’s because of you.”

Benny pauses and then says, “Yeah, okay. Let’s get married.”

----

Beth throws on her cream dress, which turns out to be of use even without the turquoise cardigan, and Benny wears his nicer pair of jeans and a black button-up. They need a witness, so they stop at the twins’ room.

“Beth and I are getting married. Any chance one of you wants to be the witness?”

Mike grins wide. “There’s not a chance in hell you’re only getting one of us. Matt, let’s go!”

----

It turns out there’s a chapel in the hotel and they go there, ducking their heads down when some other players from the tournament see them walking in.

“I feel like we maybe should have gone somewhere else,” Beth says.

“Nah, I think this chapel is perfect.”

“Are you going to change your last name to Watts?” Mike asks Beth. “Because then we’ll have to update the board.”

“You both would be B. Watts,” Matt says with dawning realization. “That won’t work.”

“That definitely won’t work,” Mike echoes.

“I’m keeping my last name,” Beth says firmly.

The twins look over to Benny and he shrugs. “Looks like she’s keeping her name, boys.”

There’s one couple ahead of them who appears to be several bottles deep into the night, and when Beth and Benny walk up, the officiant says, “You two look remarkably sober.”

“That’s because we are,” Benny says.

“Well, look at that. I might actually officiate a wedding that doesn’t end in divorce. Do you have a witness?”

“We have two,” Beth says, gesturing to the twins.

“Sober and over-prepared. What a marvel. Alright, let’s get you two married.”

The wedding is short and sweet. They realize on the spot that they hadn’t thought of rings, and Benny uses two he is already wearing. He gives her the one he wore when they first met. She remembers how he always played with it between moves. They don’t do any sort of special vows but when Benny kisses her, she is the happiest she has ever been.

----

The next morning, Townes catches her in the elevator – Benny had already gone downstairs for his game – and he says, “I heard a rumor. It sounds like I can’t call you Harmon anymore.”

Beth grins and confirms, “Benny and I got married last night. But, I’m keeping my last name. So, you can still call me Harmon.”

He nods. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m happy for you. It seems like you’re in a really good place.”

Beth doesn’t know if that is true or not given the particular circumstance he is unaware of, but she wants to believe him. When the doors open, Townes gestures for her to go first and says, “Good luck on your game, Harmon. Kentucky and me are rooting for you.”

“Thanks, Townes.”

When Beth gets to her chair, there is a piece of paper on it that says Mrs. Benny Watts. She looks over to the twins, who are watching her with glee. Shaking her head, she crumples the paper into a ball and walks over to them, holding it out in her palm.

Mike grins, taking the balled-up paper, and says, “Never change, Harmon.”

“I won’t.”

#the queen's gambit #the queen's gambit fanfiction #fanfic #Beth Harmon #Benny Watts #The Twins #Townes #Beth Harmon x Benny Watts #Beth Harmon x Townes

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

Photo

Time for this Tuesday’s Talentswap! Here’s an original talent this time! Introducing Myth, the Former Ultimate Architect!

—————————————————————- BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Ever since Architect!Myth was young, she had two major passions in life: art and aesthetics. While she also has a penchant for fashion and watercolour painting, it’s the art of buildings that really called to her. Due to her wealthy family travelling a lot during vacations, she saw buildings of many different styles and seeks to replicate them all in her sketchbook. She found her true calling when she was asked to sketch a new design for her town’s new daycare. Many of the town’s citizens loved her designs and soon, more and more people came to ask her to design buildings for their various businesses. Her popularity soon spread across the globe, reigniting her interest in traveling. With all the traveling that comes with her popularity, she views her time at Hope’s Peak as a rare chance to stay on solid ground for once. She is now settling down in a self-designed penthouse and trying her best to interact with the colorful denizens of the town.

——————————————————————

RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Comic Book Artist

Myth and Wyre have been best friends ever since grade school, having bonded over their shared love of art. But because of their different career paths and Myth’s regular travels, they’ve grown apart over the years. But ever since they have reunited in Hope’s Peak and are now sharing a penthouse, their friendship has slowly, but surely been revived.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Historian

Anon Scar, or as she likes to call herself, “The Demon of Time”, hasn’t exactly captivated Myth, or as Scar christened her “The Demon of Shelter”, with her constant spiels of time spells and demonic contracts. But they have bonded over their travels, and Scar was definitely impressed by the amount of travels that Myth undertook.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Storm Chaser

Because of Fusion’s weather-based talent, he regularly warns Myth of upcoming storms and has saved many soon-to-be-built buildings from being demolished by a tornado. He also loves giving Myth rides on his biplane to give her a bird’s eye view of the town’s buildings. But Myth still wonders to this day how Fusion manages to tame his wild mane of hair.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Journalist

Myth is still wondering to this day how two unrelated Anons manage to have the same name. This sassy muckraker manages to get some giggles out of the otherwise serious architect with her sardonic social commentary and amusing town gossip. What Fusion II doesn’t know though, is that Myth has some dirt on her too. (Note: She has accidentally called Fusion ”dad” a couple of times!)

Just Anon, Ultimate Train Engineer

Myth’s attempts at socialising with Janon have, quite frankly, been fruitless. This foul-mouthed and listless conductor doesn’t seem to be a fan of socialising with anyone, let alone Myth. But if Fusion II’s testimony is true, he seems to have a bit of a soft side around the Jr. Ultimates.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Organiser

The normally serious Myth was shook when she saw the state of Sparkle’s penthouse. It’s very clear that Sparkle takes great care in making everything as immaculate as humanly possible. Sparkle is also a great party organiser, making great, if over-the-top, opening ceremonies for Myth’s buildings.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Oceanographer and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Groundskeeper

“The Freak Twins“, as some Anons have coined, aren’t particularly known for their social skills, and it’s not hard to see why. Neither of them understand the concept of thinking before your speak, and they have some really disgusting and cursed thoughts, to which Myth had to have witnessed first hand. At least Wet Sock is good at maintaining the town’s expansive park.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Carpenter

To say that Myth was surprised when this small and svelte middle schooler made a majority of the wooden buildings and sculptures, would be the understatement of the century. Curious is hospitable and easy to get along with, allowing Myth to socialise with Curious easily. Myth definitely understands why Fusion II thinks Janon has a crush on them.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Golf Pro

Myth found it very hard to socialise with this explosive and confrontational athletic prodigy. For some reason, Nerd’s face tends to turn bright red when around the architect. He claims that it‘s just his scouter, but Fusion II and Wyre think otherwise.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Biochemist

Because Eldritch never leaves his penthouse and his distrusting and paranoid nature towards anyone other than his girlfriend, Myth wasn’t given many opportunities to socialise with him. Most of Myth’s info on Eldritch comes from either his girlfriend or Fusion II’s testimonials.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Ghost Hunter

Functioning as a bit of a conduit between Eldritch and Myth, Myth wonders how someone dealing with the dead on a daily basis manages to be this chipper. Myth recognised Dream from one of Wyre’s favorite reality shows: “NRG: Spirit Busters”. Myth managed to get an autograph from Dream and Wyre‘s happiness skyrocketed through the roof!

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Police Officer

With her optimistic and exuberant attitude, this cheery cop-in-training managed to charm Myth with her clumsy and justice-seeking antics. Myth, in a way, is a bit like a mother figure to Iris, making sure that Iris remains safe and in one piece. Because Iris is a major fan of Wyre’s comic series, Myth managed to get Wyre‘s autograph for her, securing the Myth-Riri friendship for life.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Chess Grandmaster

Because of Purple’s timorous nature, Myth doesn’t socialise much with her. She loves Purple’s gothic lolita ensemble though; it makes Purple look like a little chess piece! Myth is surprised that someone this timid could not only stand up to real chess champions, but to also be this fashion-foward.

————————————————————- APPEARANCE

This professional and serious architect has to also look the part. Architect!Myth wears a maroon overcoat with golden buttons and cuff links, over a white button-up shirt and a red tie with a building design on it. Architect!Myth also wears a matching maroon pencil skirt, black stockings and red Mary Janes. Her pencil skirt is held up by a black tool belt with a golden buckle. Architect!Myth’s hair is up in her signature ponytail, but her pink hair tie contains backup pencils, in case the pencil behind her ear runs out of graphite. ———————————————————- PERSONALITY

Because creating buildings is such a precise craft, Architect!Myth is more of a seriously-minded perfectionist, obsessively checking and double-checking if she made any mistakes. But because her line of work means that she travels regularly, she doesn’t really get to make or keep many friends. This resulted in Architect!Myth not exactly having the best social skills or awareness of romantic attraction (much to the dismay of Nerd), very much unlike Romantic!Myth. Her more socially-versed drawing buddy, Wyre usually does the talking for her. She’s trying her best to socialise with the town’s denizens though, and this is where her secret dorky side shines through. She also has an odd passion for fashion, and she can be a bit like the Fashion Police when it comes to the more fashionably-challenged citizens of town.

———————————————————-

How do you like Architect!Myth? What do you think of the talents that the other Anons have in this AU? Could you picture Architect!Myth’s friend-making adventures as a full-blown series? See you next Tuesday with a brand-new talentswapped Myth!

-Fusion Anon

—

I very much like this one! I can definitely picture Architect!Myth’s friendship adventures as a series, haha, you’re really great with those

#submission #anon #fusion anon #art #not my art #i speak #anon kg #talentswap tuesday

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