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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 2

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: Slight description of Animal Violence. Nothing too graphic, but if the genre of stuff you see on Shark week isn’t for you, skip over the part denoted by the *******

Word Count: 3530 words

Summary: You learn more about Cruz and about yourself

Prologue

Chapter 1

“-and then he just leaves. What do I even do with that?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Your roommate hums, refilling up your glass of wine. “And you don’t have his number, so you can’t call or text him right?” You take a large sip, nodding and trying not to spill wine on your pajamas.

Well, kind of.

You hadn’t told anyone about Cruz, not even your family, because frankly you didn't know where to start. But when you walked into the apartment, sullen and dragging your feet, your roommate, Caitlyn, had offered wine, ice cream, and a willing ear. That's when the floodgates opened (with some modified details, of course).

“We’re meeting at our usual place in a couple days, I just…”Another sip of wine,”...hate sitting here, not knowing what he’s feeling, what I did, how I’m feeling.” You set down your glass and throw yourself back against the couch, sinking into the cushions. “I feel so stupid, like a fucking teenager, and I hate it.” Caitlyn sets her own wine glass down and nudges the half-empty ice cream carton towards you.

“It’s for the best your feeling all this now, then you can come at ‘im all composed and articulate. Really throw him off his game.” You grab a spoon and the carton, Caitlyn patting your shoulder as you take a pathetic bite.

“You’re right but I-I don’t even know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Sounds like this guy’s got you hooked. At least that’s a start right?” Caitlyn hums, pressing her chin into her palm. “To be completely honest, Sam took a couple days to warm up to me. And I never told her this, but she gave me hardcore pretentious vibes on our first date.”

Caitlyn gives a long spiel about her awkward first soulmate date (“Seriously, who brings up ‘the superiority of vinyl’ on the first date!”), and if you were in the mind to be a good roommate, or hadn’t heard this story before, you might’ve listened closer. But only one question was occupying your thoughts; Did Cruz like you?

--------

You arrive at the boardwalk an hour early. You don’t immediately go to the tidepool, instead choosing to take a long walk on the beach, taking a moment to calm your racing heart and collect your thoughts.

You like Cruz. You like him as much as two people who just met can, despite a less-than-romantic first impression. But does he like you?

You never thought you would have to ask your soulmate that.

There’s a small thwap as you slap your cheeks, heat simmering your skin even as the cold water laps at your feet.

This is ridiculous. You’ve talked twice. Caitlyn and Sam have a thriving relationship (You should know, you share a wall with Caitlyn) and even they got off to a rocky start.

The pit grows in your stomach, thinking of Cruz’s disinterested stare as he swims into the open ocean. The weight of it almost sinks to your toes.

You shake your head, slapping your cheeks once more.

Today is a new day. Just go through the motions _____.

You reach the tidepool, setting down your picnic blanket and bag. You grab one of your notebooks and prop it open as you bite into an apple. You’re 30 minutes early, might as well get some reading done.

The waves crash and pull against the rocks, pleasant studying ambience, but is interrupted by several clicks and abrupt, out of rhythm, splashes. You look up, immediately in awe of the sight.

About 50 feet away from the entrance to the tidepool is a pod of dolphins, breaching out of the water. You grab a pencil, your phone, and your notebook, tiptoeing through the tidepool to get a better look.

Good choice wearing water shoes today.

From closer up, you notice the distinct lack of dorsal fins and realize they must be Northern White Whale Dolphins. 60 of them have congregated in a group, most likely scouting for easy food or taking a rest.

Their pod is pretty small though. What are they doing so close to the shore?

The pod continues to play as you take shaky photos with your camera, trying to balance your notebook and pencil in the crook of your elbow. Through your viewfinder, you spot a familiar shape, not 30 feet from the pod, peeking his head out of the water. Cruz’s black eyes narrow into focus before he fully submerges. Your eyes widen as you lower your camera.

The water above Cruz rushes as he swims closer and closer to the pod. You tuck your phone back into your pocket as you finagle your way up to a nearby rock. You need a better view, and it might be best to be out of the water while this happens.

The dolphins haven’t noticed Cruz yet, still gliding along the waves. There's a quick flash of his strong back before he dives even deeper into the water. The rock slightly digs into your stomach as you lean over to get a better look.

What I wouldn’t give for a drone right now.

Before long, there is a burst of clicks, the largest dolphins quickly surrounding the group and issuing them away. They’ve spotted Cruz, but one is a little too slow.

Cruz’s dorsal fin cuts through the water, close enough to the surface that you can make out the details of his determined face. His eyes have latched onto the slowest dolphin and his speed increases exponentially. His long tail flicks back and forth as he gains on it.

*******

The dolphin flips into the air, trying to gain distance. But like a flash Cruz’s large hand shoots out of the water, getting a hold of the dolphin’s tail, and pulls. You see his shoulder and tricep bulge as the dolphin thrashes in his grip. His head once again breaches the water as he digs his other clawed hand into the dolphin’s side, raking into it as he pulls the dolphin closer to him. The two tussle and wrestle against each other, going in and out of the water as the dolphin tries to push Cruz away.

But Cruz is limber, keeping a tight grip on the dolphin as he maneuvers his body alongside it. His torso raises up as he pushes the dolphin down under the water and into submission. Cruz then yanks the dolphin’s front upwards and out of the water, grip still tight on it’s rear, before opening up his maw and tearing into the dolphin’s neck. He rips his head back and forth until the dolphin stills, a large pool of red slowly cascading around them.

*******

Your pencil hangs loosely in your fingers as you watch, eyes locked on Cruz. You think the struggle must’ve lasted only 20 seconds, but in the moment, it felt like hours. Cruz’s chest heaves as he takes another bite, serrated teeth easily ripping the flesh, as casual as the lobster roll from your last meeting.

Blood drips from his mouth and covers his claws. His cards his fingers back through his hair, leaving crimson streaks that shine against his black locks. Cruz bites off another mouthful before heaving the dolphin onto his shoulder.

As a large science nerd, you’ve always enjoyed watching nature in progress. But a new, exciting, vaguely uncomfortable feeling stirs in your gut as you watch Cruz suck in his fingers, picking out stray bits of meat from his large, sharp teeth. A feeling like a shiver rushing down your spine and heat in between your legs.

Oh my god. Why was that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?

Cruz turns away and submerges himself, giving you a nice shot of his defined back muscles as he sums up his hunt. You can’t take your eyes off his form moving just below the water, even as your 5 PM alarm goes off.

You knew Cruz was larger, and far stronger, than you, but seeing him in his element reminds you just how easily he could tear you apart.

God, and I kind of want him to.

As he swims further away from the shore, you see two black dots in the distance. You take out your phone again and open up the camera to zoom in.

Speaking of huge. Holy shit.

The focus is a little blurry, but it’d be hard for you to miss the massive mermaids. With only their shoulders and up out of water, they still tower over Cruz by at least a head each. Both have long black hair, intertwined with what looks to be seaweed and various types of shells. The one on the right is holding two larger masses over her shoulders, positioned the way a lumberjack would hold a fallen tree. Cruz reemerges with his dolphin in tow, frighteningly small.

Cruz’s gestures indicate they’re having a conversation, mostly one-sided. The dolphin on Cruz’s back bounces as he talks animatedly, his hunt small when compared to the two weights the right mermaid carries. With your old phone you can only catch a glimpse of the left mermaid’s lips moving. Cruz’s energy dims as she continues and he seems to sink deeper into the water.

The left mermaid holds out her hand. Cruz hesitates, then throws his dolphin into her arms. She swings it over like it weighs nothing and then shakes her hand as if to shoo him away. The right one rumbles with laughter. Cruz nods, solemn as the two submerge and swim away.

Cruz stays there for a minute, looking out at the horizon. When he finally turns, his movements are lethargic as he swims towards the tidepool.

You scramble down from the rock and quickly tiptoe back to your blanket, fumbling to stuff your notebook and pencil back into your bag.

Cruz glides in, his eyes not meeting yours, locked in thought.

“Hey Cruz.” You wave, struggling to catch your breath from your impromptu rush.

Cruz slowly looks up at you, still slightly downcast.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” You shake your head furiously.

“It’s no problem! I got her kind of early, and then I saw you hunting and didn’t want to bother.” Cruz’s eyes widen a bit, before her recoils into himself and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“Oh, sorry. You probably didn’t want to see that….” You once again shake your hands and head back and forth.

“No! No I-, I actually thought it was super cool!” Cruz quirks his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Yeah! It was like my own personal Shark week. Like wow, you looked amazing out there.”

Cruz’s cheek tint a cerulean blue, the corners of his lips turning up at the sides as he fiddles with his fingers.

“And those dolphins are the fastest kind around here, but bam! You were on them like a firecracker, kind of wish I had a slow motion camera.” You laugh, before realizing Cruz probably didn’t understand half of your analogies. “You looked uh, you were really good at it.”

Well duh, you idiot. He’s a shark.

“Thank you.” Cruz shoots you a tiny smile, blush still running across his face and down his neck. The ensuing silence is only slightly uncomfortable, as Cruz’s blush stays strong and you're sure you develop one of your own. You try and focus on something else to calm down, but catch a glimpse of his biceps, and fail miserably.

“Oh, that’s right.” Cruz reaches over and sticks his hand in between two nearby rocks. His brow furrows before his eyes light up, and he pulls out a….handbag?

It’s loosely sewn together with kelp, made of some sort of seal skin and closed with a seashell button. Cruz pops it open and begins to rummage inside.

“Gotcha.” Cruz pulls something out of the bag, before turning and hiding it behind his back.

“Uh, whatcha got there?” Cruz smiles, his blue blush painting his face from top to tip.

“I found this thing and thought you um….might want to look at it?” Cruz pulls his arm in front, revealing a reflective white shell, just a bit longer than his palm.

“It’s not a crab, but I thought it was neat looking so….”

You slowly move towards him, gesturing to ask if you can hold the shell. Cruz nods, almost shoving it into your hand.

The color is completely white, sharp, almost polished-looking. It carves into several rings before sloping into a point. It’s empty, the inside free of any sand or tiny algae.

“Do you know what it’s called?”

You look back to Cruz and nearly brush your nose against his. You realize how hot his body heat is as he leans over you to look at the shell. Your shoulders just barely touch.

As if dipped into boiling water, your face alights into red and your body convulses to jerk away from the heat.

“Yeah-Yes! Actually I do, it’s-it looks like a Kellets W-Welk. Well, the remains of one’s shell anyway.”

Cruz stays close, letting out a small “Ohhh.” as he squints his eyes to get a closer look. It’s the most on-land you’ve seen him, with the water lapping at the base of his tail. Sitting down, your head only comes to his clavicle. The uncomfortable burning stirs in your gut.

“Is it a hermit crab?”

“Not, it’s a sea snail. They're not really on land like crabs.” You brush your thumbs over the shell’s ridges. “There are quite a few varieties of sea snails around here, lots of beautiful shells. Their babies look pretty cool too.”

Cruz nods, eyes intent, and it reminds you of the elementary kids you saw when working at the aquarium. Your heart skips as you futilely try to fight the smile on your face.

“Can you eat ‘em?”

You chuckle and Cruz’s face grows a darker shade of blue. “Yeah, you can. You’ve got a good eye for snacks huh?”

Cruz pouts playfully, blue still awash on his cheeks. “Maybe, but I’m not always thinking about food.” Just as he finishes, you hear his stomach rumble. You stifle your laugh with your hand and Cruz grabs his stomach angrily. “Sh-Shut up! It’s almost dinner!”

The two mermaids flash in your mind. You see Cruz handing over the dolphin as they swim away. Then you see Cruz, furiously cracking open crabs with a single-minded purpose. The smile drops from your chin.

How often does that happen?

Cruz was small for a Great White. You hadn’t even thought about why. You don’t even know if you want to.

“They’re pretty tasty, but their shells are a lot more fun.” Cruz furrows his brow again. “Here, let me show you.” You scoot yourself closer to him, putting the white shell against his ear. His eyes widen and he leans backwards a bit from your closeness, but the shell still lingers by his ear. “Do you hear it?”

Cruz stills, furrowing his brows even deeper, but then they rise in surprise. He leans back towards you, tentatively grabbing your wrist and pulling the shell closer.

“Its-”

“The ocean.”

The same childlike wonder from before flushes on his face as he looks at you, bringing your stomach a flutter. Cruz presses his head down closer to the shell, the bottom of his cheek now touching your palm. Cruz’s skin is cool against yours, slightly damp, and you feel the hint of roughness as his chin brushes against your wrist.

“How-How did you-”

“My mom showed me once. I mean, technically it’s the echo of the blood coursing through your ear, which reverberates and sounds like waves crashing. But it’s still a neat trick.”

“Oh, I see….”

From this close, you can see the small freckles which dapple Cruz’s cheeks, peppering across the bridge of his nose and up onto his forehead. Specks of dark blue, black, and green contrasts against his light gray skin, like the setting sun catching the pulling tides.

In the moment, you long to touch them.

So you do.

It’s so….soft.

As your thumb brushes up his jaw, the mottled colors are overwhelmed and overshadowed by Cruz’s furious blush. Cruz moves away so quickly that he unfurls his grip on a nearby rock and loses his balance. He braces himself and hisses as his thin skin nicks the corner of a rock.

“Oh my god, I’m so-so sorry! I just- oh my goodness are you okay?” You retract the shell closer to your chest, your other hand outstretched to steady Cruz. When he flinches away, you pull it back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have invaded your personal space like that.”

Cruz's chest heaves but he doesn’t move or say anything. From the corner of your eye you spot a tiny bit of blood leaking onto the rock.

“Oh shit, wait I-I should have something.” You whip around to your backpack, shuffling and pushing aside your notebook to find your emergency first aid kit. Water wells in the corner of your eyes as you frantically search. You desperately try to will the tears away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid-

Your inner insults are interrupted when your fingers brush against the familiar plastic fabric pouch. Before turning back to Cruz, you hastily wipe your eyes.

“Here, this should help.” You hold out the small thing of gauze and an antiseptic wipe. Cruz slowly takes them, fiddling with the gauze until it's undone. He picks up the antiseptic package with the tips of his forefinger and thumb, eyes squinting as he tries to read the small text.

“That’s to clean the wound with, to get the gross stuff out.” Cruz’s eyes narrow even further, brushing his thumb over the paper wrapping. Tentatively, he plops the unwrapped wipe on his wound. He looks back, clearly confused. “You have to unwrap it first, then wipe it.” His blush returns as he jerks his eyes away from you, embarrassed with you watching.

“I could do-”

“I’ve got it.” Cruz snaps, finding the perforation and ripping it off quickly.

“Okay, but it’s gonna sting-”

“Ow, shit!” Cruz curses as he presses the wipe against the apex of his cut, whining and biting his lower lip.

“If it’s hurting that means it’s working.” Cruz nods, but he hastily wipes the wound and sighs as he crumples it up.Cruz wraps his cut with medical precision, reminding you of boxers right before a match. He cuts the gauze short with a snip of his teeth

“Wow, you're really good at that.” Cruz snorts.

“I don’t need any jackasses going into a frenzy anytime soon. That would be the perfect end to this shit day.”

Your heart freezes as your stomach drops, and you recoil into yourself. The nausea of guilt washes over you. And then that makes you feel even worse, and so the cycle continues.

Cruz notices your sheepish, downtrodden stare, and frantically waves his good hand.

“Wait, shit, no, thats-thats not what I meant. Uh…” He loses track of his sentence, mouth agape as he looks for words. “I mean….thank you.” He fiddles with his claws. “For the bandage, a-and the food a couple days ago. This is...nice.”

You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly his praise perks you up, rolling over your tense muscles like a masseuse.

“Thank you for the shell, it was very thoughtful of you.” Cruz sputters.

“I just passed by it on a swim, it wasn’t a big deal. The reefs got a ton of them, so, y’know.”

You don’t know, but it’s cute watching him fumble with his words. He’s so bashful for an apex predator you saw kill a dolphin not 20 minutes ago.

“I could even-well, it’s close that we- we could go sometime? You and me?” Cruz fiddles with his claws once more, and you wonder if it’s a nervous compulsion. “It’s a little ways away from the coast but with me carrying you, we could probably see a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Cruz’s nervous smile is much more lopsided than his regular one. It accentuates the dimple on his left cheek.

“I would love that.”

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You decide to meet up early on Saturday to get a head start on the sunlight. You leave the boardwalk giddy, your nerves tingling pleasantly with pre-plan jitters. All this energy means you might have to spill to Caitlyn once more, just to let it all out. You’ll most likely tell her you two are getting breakfast by the beach, maybe stop by an aquarium.

Looking at all the coral and the crustaceans. Just me, in Cruz’s arms-

You stop, your nerves bubbling up under your skin, like steam is blowing out of your ears as you think about what is in store for Saturday.

You’re still not sure how Cruz feels about you. But there isn’t a show of a doubt now; You have a crush on him.

----------

Cruz sits in the water, cracking open a leftover oyster he had left in his bag for emergencies. Emergencies like being so flustered he can't possibly go back to the pod, not without looking incredibly suspicious.

He brushes his thumb over his cheek, and it’s almost like you're there again.

So….soft.

#my writing #monster romance #monster x reader #reader insert #shark merman #merman #shark merman x reader

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therealvalkyrie · 3 years

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Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 1

on the inevitability of dating a frat bro

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand

Word Count: 5.0k

Warnings: light angst, fluff, cheating, alcohol, swearing, minor injury

AN: So!! I am REALLY excited about this fic, but it’s the first AOT piece I’ve ever written and the first piece I’ve posted at all in a WHILE. As of now, it can stand on its own as a mainly platonic/unrequited Levi x reader, but I have big ideas for potential expansion in the future! Please don’t hesitate to reblog/comment/send in an ask with any suggestions, questions, or feedback!! ~valkyrie

Palms slap flat against the door of your apartment as you stumble the last few steps, barely catching yourself before your right ankle twists out from under you. Sharp pain shoots up your leg, and you know it’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker in the morning.

“Shitshitfuck ow,” you slur as you slide to the ground, back to the wall, short skirt bunching dangerously high on your thigh. Fumbling fingers go to the ankle strap of your right stiletto and pull fruitlessly on the ties. With a whine, you curse the forethought you had to double knot the thin cord when you were getting ready to go out earlier in the evening. Your tongue sits heavy and dry in your mouth as you lean your head back against the wall and press palms against your eyes until stars swim into your vision.

How the fuck did I end up here? you think with a soft hiccup, and all of a sudden you’re crying again.

As you sit in your apartment hallway, drunk and distraught and slowly freezing from the outside in, you recall the events of the night. Getting ready with Hange for girls’ night, meeting up with Sasha and Hitch at the new bar across town. Downing shots and cocktails until the worries of the week melted away, dancing until your feet ached and your eyes stung. Seeing your boyfriend across the dance floor making out with another woman. Correction, seeing your boyfriend making out with your best friend. Correction, seeing your ex-boyfriend practically fucking your former best friend in the middle of the goddamned club-

With that image freshly burned into your mind, you let out a gut-wrenching sob followed by a tremendous sniffle just as the apartment door opens.

A soft thump echoing through the apartment jerks Levi out of his light sleep. It takes him a second to remember you went out to your girls’ night, glancing over at his alarm clock. 2:17 am, sounds about right.

He rolls over and readjusts his sheets around him, determined to go back to sleep. It’s not uncommon for you to spend your weekend out with friends all night, and he learned a while ago that you’re perfectly capable of getting yourself showered and into bed after a night out. That’s one of the things Levi likes about living with you: you generally know how to stay out of his hair, and he doesn’t find himself caught up in yours.

When Hange had introduced you to him at the end of last semester as a potential roommate, he had been hesitant. In his book, anyone Hange approved of was bound to be at least slightly off their rocker, but he had been hoping to sign a lease for the next school year before leaving town, and after meeting you he felt willing to take a chance. He told himself it was because of your stellar recommendations from former roommates and respectable credit score, but the smallest part of his mind admitted it was also because of your pretty hands and intelligent eyes.

That day at his favorite tea shop when you had met up to sign the lease, he had asked you about your major and you had practically lit up with the way you spoke about the architecture degree you were pursuing. The pair of you had chatted all afternoon, discussing books and comparing experiences with professors in the art department. When you learned he was in the painting program at your university, you had grabbed one of his hands off the table in both of yours and examined it closely.

“You have painter’s hands,” you had proclaimed after a moment, turning his hand in yours and tracing the cracks in his palm lightly. “Just like my mom’s.”

Levi had simply sat there, stunned at how such a small gesture made his heart race and neck grow warm.

With a groan, Levi rolls back over in an effort to shake himself out of his turbulent thoughts. 2:19 glows green at him from his bedside table, and suddenly he’s struck with the realization that he hasn’t heard you actually come into the apartment, let alone close your bedroom door with your habitual sharp snap.

“Damn it to hell,” he mutters as he flicks on a beside lamp and stuffs feet into slippers. Careful to avoid knocking over the painting set to dry on the easel by his desk, he opens his bedroom door and hears the muffled sound of sobbing from the front door.

Levi stands in the doorframe in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, poking his head out into the hall. For a moment, he can only stare. He’s never seen you like this before, utterly dejected, scatter-brained, small, so unlike the confident woman in the tea shop.

“You look like shit,” he says plainly, the barest hint of concern in his voice.

You keep your eyes downcast and weakly flip him off, continuing to sob gently. At the lack of your usual backtalk, his expression slips from his usual impassivity to a sharp frown.

A delicate hand encircles your upheld wrist and you let it go limp in Levi’s grip as he crouches down next to you.

“Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Why are you crying?” His calm tone helps you focus your mind, and you manage to hiccup a response.

“G-god I’m an idiot,” you sniffle, and raise your eyes to barely meet his. His head is ducked to your level, and he’s crouching on the balls of his feet, one hand gripping your limp wrist and the other hesitantly reaching for your shoulder. “Just leave me out here to w-wallow, or better yet take me out with the t-trash, that’s obviously all I-I am,” you gesture vaguely at yourself.

“Did someone tell you that? That you’re trash?” Levi asks sharply, dipping his head with yours in an effort to maintain eye contact.

Your bottom lip trembles and you sniffle again. Just under the delicate white noise of life, Levi can hear his heart break cleanly in two.

“It was more implied,” you supply weakly.

Levi sighs, then drops his hands and straightens up.

“Alright, up you get.” He extends his hand, and you stare at it for a second before adjusting your bag on your shoulder and gripping his warm hand with your freezing one. A solid pull later, you find yourself balancing in your heels, Levi’s hand gripping your elbow and the other around your waist. You mumble a thanks, and attempt a step on your right foot towards the door. The traitorous ankle buckles again and you cry out as you stumble once more. But this time Levi’s there to catch you against his chest, now fully supporting you at the waist.

“Ah, I forgot,” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Tch,” he clicks, gently chastising, and in a second he’s scooped an arm under your knees to carry you into the apartment. Vaguely, you wonder at how coordinated he is as he kicks the door shut and nudges the light switch with his elbow. Pretty buff for an art major, you muse, with your head laying against his chest and arms looped around his neck. How pathetic is this, can’t even walk into my own home.

He nudges his way into your room and casts his gaze around in the ambient glow of your desk lamp. You can tell he’s holding himself back from commenting on the clothes strewn across the extra chair by your closet and the lipstick-stained coffee cup sat atop a pile of textbooks on your desk, and you look down in embarrassment. There’s a reason you keep your door closed most of the time. Despite the mess, he successfully navigates across to your bed and gently puts you down, arranging your pillows behind you to support your back before disappearing into the living room again.

You take a moment to wipe at your eyes, sigh self-pityingly, and slouch down into your soft bed, not caring that you’re still fully dressed. Not only did you catch your boyfriend cheating, but you managed to wake up your (usually grumpy) roommate, reveal to him how messy you actually were, and injure yourself in the space of half an hour. Just about a record.

The shrill ringing of your phone breaks into the silence. As you’re digging through your purse to pull it out, you remember with a sinking feeling that you didn’t even tell the girls you were leaving the club, let alone what happened. You slide a shaky finger across the screen to accept the call and put it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Uhm, hello? Where the fuck are you?” Hange’s loud voice makes you wince and hold the phone slightly away from your face.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Hange, I went home. S-something happened and I, well I just called an Uber and didn’t even think,” you finish lamely.

“What happened? Did you get home safe? Did someone hurt you? I swear to god-”

“Hange, I-”

“-rat bastard bartender was eyeing you all night I could’ve guessed he’d try something-”

“Hange!” She stops short and allows you to speak. “I got home safe. Levi’s here. I’m not hurt, the bartender didn’t try anything, I… I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, okay?” You inject your tone with some bright optimism in an effort to assuage her panic. “Tell Sasha and Hitch not to worry, okay?”

Over her momentary silence on the other end of the line, you can hear traffic sounds and faint club music, as though she had stepped outside to call you. A strained sigh, then: “Okay. I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m still mad at you for not checking in before you left. Had me worried sick.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’d be mad too. Can you swing by tomorrow? And I’ll explain everything?” Your hand rubs down your face and you close your eyes in a guilty grimace.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” The call ends and you drop your phone down onto your bed where it bounces gently away from you.

When you open your eyes again, Levi is standing in the door holding a cup of tea, his other hand cupped around something, studying you with uncertainty. You sit up hesitantly against your headboard, surprised. You’d figured he went back to bed and left you to put yourself to bed as you usually did.

He crosses the room with his smooth gait, and in a moment, you feel two ibuprofen pressed into your palm and the mug of tea nudged into your other hand, your roommate gently prompting you to drink. He watches as you pop the pills and take a slow sip of the tea, smiling faintly when you recognize that it’s chamomile.

“Good.” He takes the mug and sets it aside on your bedside table. Pulling your desk chair up to the side of your bed, he sits, and leans over towards your feet.

His light fingers start to work on the knots in the ties of your shoes, and you can feel his voice rumble lightly as he says, “What happened, kid?”

You huff a laugh at the pet name, then consider where to begin. You decide straightforward is the best approach with someone like Levi.

“I saw Reiner and Annie at the club, sucking face in the middle of the dance floor. I thought he was at some quote unquote frat thing and she insisted she couldn’t come out to girls’ night because of some stupid group project. They didn’t even see me, I just turned around and left before I knew what I was doing. And poor Bertholdt, he probably has no clue what Annie’s been up to.” You take a shuddering breath and let out a choked sob, trying to stop the waterworks and unable to keep them at bay. “God, I’m such a spineless coward.”

“Hey.” Levi’s sharp tone startles your teary gaze to meet his eyes, which look practically murderous. He leans over to grasp your shoulders, warm hands scorching cool skin. “You are not a spineless coward. He is the goddamned spineless foolish bastard, and if I ever see his ugly mug I will wreck it so bad his own mother won’t be able to identify the body. As a matter of fact, that goes for Annie, too. Are we clear?”

You blink in shock before fully registering his words and nodding slowly. “Crystal.” Levi looks the most angry you’ve ever seen him, brow furrowed and mouth set determinedly.

“Good.” He returns his attention to your ankle. While you were talking, he had successfully untied and slipped your shoes off your swollen feet. “Now, let’s see what’s going on with your weak-ass foot.”

He spends a good minute poking and prodding and turning your ankle every which way in his grasp. “Does this hurt?” and “What about this way?” are answered with soft “no”s or a wince and a “yes”. His hands are practiced and intentional, and you briefly wonder how much experience he has with treating injuries. After a last gentle prod, he sets your foot back down on the bed.

“Well, it’s definitely not broken. It is swelling, though, and probably sprained. I’ll go see if we have an ace bandage or something.” He stands and moves to leave, but before he can get too far you gently grasp his forearm.

“Thank you, Levi.” Your voice is soft and sincere as you look up at him through curled and mascaraed eyelashes. “Thanks for picking me up off the floor and listening and taking care of me.”

Levi studies your tired face for a moment. The trails of mascara down your cheeks, a stray piece of glitter sitting on your cheekbone, lipgloss smudged on the left side. It seems as though his hand moves on its own, reaching out to stroke your cheek lightly, thumb gently brushing away the escaped glitter. He doesn’t miss the way your lashes flutter as you subconsciously lean into his touch. Finally, he tousles your hair with a hint of tenderness in his eyes.

“Tch. Don’t worry about it, kid.”

“I’m barely younger than you!”

“Whatever, brat.”

Levi is sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea and hunched over his laptop when you step out of your room late the next morning. Freshly showered, your hair curls delicately over your shoulders and the scent of peppermint body wash reaches his nose. He studies you for a moment. You’re wearing a loose sleep shirt, cotton shorts, and an oversized cardigan, and he can see where the ace bandage he found last night pokes out from under your fuzzy socks. Clearly, you’re planning to stay in today.

“G’morning,” you murmur, passing behind him to get to the kitchen. Your roommate grunts a greeting in response and takes a sip of tea in his odd overhanded way. You start your coffee routine, reaching for the French press and coffee grounds from a shelf and setting the kettle to boil on the stove. It’s grounding to go through the motions of a daily ritual after the emotional turmoil of last night. Or rather, the emotional turmoil of this morning. It had been hard to drag yourself out of bed before noon, and harder still not to crawl back into your warm sheets after a scalding shower. You steel yourself for the inevitable conversation as you measure out grounds, then finally turn and hop up to sit on the counter facing Levi when the only thing left to do is to wait for the coffee to brew.

“Sooooo,” you start in a long, drawn out syllable, leaning back on your hands.

His hands still on the keyboard and a quiet tension fills Levi’s shoulders before he turns his body fully towards you, resting a hand on the back of his chair. He doesn’t say a word, but his eyes are softer than they usually are when you interrupt his studying.

You take a deep breath.

“So, uh, last night I was kind of a wreck and you were really sweet, and I just wanted to say thank you again and I’m sorry you had to witness that.” It’s said in a rush, and by some miracle you manage to maintain eye contact.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. That’s what friends are for.”

“I know, I know, I just-- it felt really nice to have someone, y’know, there after what, uhm, after what happened and I really was a mess I mean I must’ve looked so gross and I woke you up at like what? Two am? And you were just so steady and kind and I mean you even tucked me into bed for God’s sake--” you ramble on, the words falling over each other in your awkwardness. God, you idiot don’t you know when to shut the fuck up?? “--and I know how much you like it to be quiet at night and I really do try to--”

Levi cuts you off when he stands fluidly from his seat and crosses the kitchen in two strides, entering your space and placing his hand over your mouth in the same motion. You look at him with wide eyes, suddenly breathing very oddly. The clean smell of paint thinner and black tea simultaneously clouds and calms your mind.

A beat, then: “Brat. Stop rambling, you’re welcome.” You study each others’ faces. Levi’s eyes are stern and steady as he looks up at you through elegantly disheveled bangs. To Levi, you look like a deer caught in headlights, all surprised eyes and warm cheeks. After a charged moment, he lets his hand drop and takes the smallest step backwards.

It takes your brain a second to reboot, then you’re fumbling over your words again. “Okay. Well, uhmm. Okay.”

“How’s your foot?” He glances down at the foot in question as if to check it’s still there, then back at you.

“It’s okay. Still hurts to walk on but I can handle it,” you manage to breathe out with the air left in your lungs.

“Good.” He nods once, then turns and sits back down at his laptop. He hears you huff half an incredulous laugh and slide down from the counter to pour your coffee. A shake of the head and a sip of tea later, his mind slips back into essay mode and away from the woman drilling holes in the back of his head with curious eyes.

“Hey baby!” You hear Reiner’s voice from the door as he pushes through it with his usual boisterousness. From your position at the kitchen table in front of your laptop, your back is to him and you allow yourself a moment to press your nails into the palm of your hand and steel your nerves before plastering a smile on your face. You stand up and turn to greet him, limping to meet him halfway from the door.

“Hey babe, come on in!”

He winds an arm around your waist and pulls you in to peck you on the lips as usual, but you manage to subtly turn your head so it lands on your cheek instead. With the flash of an innocent smile as a coverup, you step out of his arms and make your way into the kitchen to set the kettle for coffee. “So, uh, how was your frat thing?”

He follows close behind you, completely oblivious, and cages you in with your back against the counter after you’re done at the stove. “Eh, it was alright. Got some new pledges, you know how it is.” He grins in the cocky way you fell for and leans farther into your space. You give a giggle and rest gentle hands on his chest, keeping him at a distance while feigning affection.

“Oh, sure. Busy night of fun, I’m sure.” Your tone is sickly sweet and you mentally grimace at yourself to take it down a notch.

Fiddling absentmindedly with the collar of his shirt, you take a moment to mourn your relationship. While it’s about to end swiftly and brutally, you know that you will miss the security and warmth you had with Reiner in the beginning. You finally lean in to lay your head on his chest one last time, and your heart aches at the way he tenderly rests his chin on top of your head. The moment is broken by the kettle beginning to whistle and you gently push him away to go turn it off.

“How’re Hange and the girls?” He leans himself against the counter and watches as you bustle around the kitchen, preparing coffee as you usually do when he comes over. It’s one of the things the pair of you had initially bonded over, trying new beans and methods of brewing nearly every week. Recently, you had been using Guatemalan beans with notes of peach and candied almonds, a birthday gift from the cheating boyfriend himself.

As you measure out grounds into the French press, you maintain a cheerful disposition. This is it, you think. Don’t back down now.

“They’re doing great, we had so much fun! We went to that new bar on Oakland Street, I think it’s called like Stevie’s?” Of course it’s called Stevie’s, it had been all anyone could talk about since the new bar opened earlier in the semester.

“Oh, yeah, uhm I’ve heard good things, good things….” His voice has a nervous edge to it, and a glance in his direction confirms that he’s awkwardly rubbing his neck as he usually does when he has something to hide.

You push on: “Yeah! I think you would totally love it! Very much your vibe. Anyway, we got absolutely plastered, to be honest I’m not even sure I remember how much I had to drink.” A pause for dramatic effect accompanied by a ditzy laugh. “But y’know, I do remember seeing one thing.” You carefully bloom the grounds before pouring the rest of the water in, focusing your gaze away from Reiner in order to keep your cool.

“Oh?”

You casually set the chicken shaped kitchen timer on the fridge to four minutes and adopt a thoughtful tone. “Yeah, I saw Annie there. Which was odd, because she told me that she had this huge group project to be working on. Guess she finished early. Oh, and you know what else I saw?”

“W-what?” A sharp turn away from the fridge reveals his increasingly nervous face to you

“I saw you there, too! Maybe you got so drunk at the “frat thing” you just don’t remember going, how funny is that?” You keep your voice light but find yourself unable to maintain a smile, your expression slipping into somewhere in between hurt and determined.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet and looks anywhere but your face, hand still rubbing the back of his neck. “Ahaha, really? Are you sure it was me, becau--”

“Oh, it was you. And do you know what you were doing?” This time, your voice is icier than the sidewalk in February after a week of sleet, causing his body to still and face to fall.

“N-no…” It’s almost pitiful how quiet he is now that his usually confident demeanor is shaken.

“You were kissing Annie. Which is funny, considering you both are in relationships.” The statement hangs in the air and you stare steadily into his eyes. You make it a point to regulate your breathing and blink back the first tears beginning to pool.

After another charged split second, your idiot ex-boyfriend decides on the worst path: badly gaslighting you into thinking it wasn’t him.

“I uhm, I was uh, are you sure? It couldn’t have been A-Annie-- I mean uhm, me, uh, ahaha, if it was, that’s so funny…” He stumbles over his words, only trailing off in defeat when you hold up a hand to silence him.

“Save it, Reiner. I already had a breakdown last night, I’m not particularly in the mood to deal with yours.” You limp over to the table and pull out a chair to reveal the cardboard box of his things you had packed up that morning. “Here’s your stuff, now get the hell out and stay the fuck away from me. Maybe go grovel to Bertholdt and see if you can salvage that relationship.” Your hand trembles as you point at the box and then the door and your lip quivers with the effort of not crying.

Reiner evidently sees the vulnerability in your eyes and decides to grasp at a few last straws, adopting a pleading mien, complete with sad smile and innocent eyes. He moves towards you slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, and reaches out to lay a hand on your shoulder. “Aww, come on, baby, it wasn’t like that, it was just a heat of the moment thing, I didn’t mean--”

“Didn’t mean what?” Facade finally breaking, all you can muster up is a furious, cracked whisper and angry tears. “Didn’t mean to stick your tongue down my best friend’s throat? Didn’t mean to practically fuck your best friend’s girlfriend in public?”

“No, I mean, yes, but I, aw, c’mon sweetheart,” he admonishes, cautiously reaching out to wipe away your tears. You cringe away, but before he can touch you his arm is ripped away and he’s stumbling back with a shocked expression.

“I believe the lady told you to get the fuck out.” Levi’s standing in front of you out of nowhere, hands eerily still at his side. Evidently, he had come back from the store smack in the middle of The Dumpening, and a glance towards the entryway confirms there are grocery bags discarded haphazardly on the floor. Turning your attention back to the men in your kitchen, you see Reiner’s face has rapidly shifted from surprised to angry. He’s caught himself against the counter, breathing hard, eyes flicking from your teary eyes to Levi.

“Hey, this isn’t any of your fuckin’ business, buddy,” Reiner drawls, confident as he straightens up to his full height. He practically towers over Levi, the shortest of the three of you, and you can tell he’s already estimating your roommate to be an easy fight should it come down to that. Sharp panic enters your chest at the thought of a fight breaking out, and your hand flinches out to grasp Levi’s jacket sleeve desperately. You’ve seen Reiner in a couple bar fights, and even drunk he’s a force to be reckoned with.

He doesn’t acknowledge your touch, instead injecting a quiet venom into his usually dispassionate tone. “You made it my fuckin’ business when you touched my roommate without her permission in my home.”

The taller man opens his mouth to retort, but you beat him to the punch: “Reiner, just go. I want you to leave.” Some mettle has returned to your voice and you force obstinate lungs to take a deep breath. “Please take your stuff and go.”

Eye contact with Reiner usually makes you feel warm and safe and in love, both of you prone to wearing your heart on your sleeve. This time the experience is sullied by conflicting anger and hurt and guilt written across his face, filling your already aching heart with an unshakeable leaden weight.

He inhales sharply, then speaks in a much more uncertain voice. “Is this really what you want?”

Your mouth quirks to the side in an effort to quell more tears. “Yes, this is really what I want.”

The fight slumps out of his body, shoulders rounding imperceptibly, and he holds up his hands in defeat. He crosses to the cardboard box of his things sitting on the kitchen chair. You don’t miss the way Levi casually keeps his body between you and Reiner, staring him down as he moves towards the pair of you. Your grip hasn’t slackened on Levi’s jacket, and at this point you can’t distinguish if it’s to stop him from doing something stupid or simply to have something to hold onto.

Reiner hoists the box into his arms and turns his head towards you once more.

“Goodbye,” his voice cracks on your name and you tear your eyes away in favor of staring at the linoleum kitchen floor.

The front door clicks shut.

You finally drop your hand from Levi’s sleeve, sink slowly into the chair behind you, and bury your face in your hands. The dull aching of your heart seems to seep through the rest of your body until your limbs are heavy, ankle throbbing from standing on it for too long.

You hear Levi’s retreating footsteps towards the door, the shunk of the lock slipping into place, and the crinkle of plastic grocery bags as he picks them up off the floor. He works in silence putting the food away, giving you space to collect your scattered self. When his task is complete, he joins you at the table, sitting in the chair which had previously been occupied by Reiner’s box.

When the chicken timer rings, he calmly shuts it off and returns to sit by you.

When his cell phone dings with a text notification, he deftly sets it to “Do Not Disturb” and returns to keeping you company.

When you finally meet his eyes, it looks like you’ve aged a year.

“You all right?”

“Been better.”

“At least this time you’re sober.”

“Pfft,” you scoff. “Wish I wasn’t.”

“On that note, I got wine and cheese at the store. The “perfect break up cure”, in your own words.” His tone is dry, but his mouth is slightly quirked at the side. “And I saw that Pride and Prejudice is streaming on Netflix.”

His thoughtfulness chips into your melancholy, and you hazard a watery smile. “Aw Levi, you didn’t have to do that.” With that, you lean over and pull him into a warm hug, arms around his neck and chin hooked over his shoulder. He hesitantly puts his own arms around you and pats your back awkwardly.

“Really, it’s no--”

“Oh, shut up and let me be grateful for you.”

(read Part 1.5 here)

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #reiner braun #annie leonhart #hange zoe #sasha braus #hitch dreyse #bertholdt hoover #swearing #alcohol #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

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wynniewright · 4 years

Text

In Harm’s Way (M)

→ This story is a part of the @bangtanshadowfamily “The Creatures of Moonlight Manor” Halloween collab!

→ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

→ Word Count: 4.8k

→ Genre: grim reaper au, halloween au, smut, lots of fluff, bit angsty

→ Summary: After fighting with her grim reaper boyfriend, Y/N decides to throw herself into a dangerous situations to get him to stop ignoring her.

→ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide (it’s not dark, think of when bella tried to get edward to save her so she kept doing stupid shit - it’s that), one time mention of a past near-death experience (not detailed, it’s just vaguely mentioned in the fluffy part), reader attempts suicide via toaster bath (with the intention of being saved by her supernatural, soul-reaping boyfriend). Please don’t read if these make you uncomfortable!

→ Warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female), bit of impregnation kink, tae just wants to be a dad, reader makes stupid decisions, cum play, possible impregnation?, sex with pants on, fingering, lots of fluff and all that good stuff

→ A/N: Hello hello! Finally found the time to squeeze in this story in the middle of my full-time school and part-time work schedule. Sorry it took so long for another fic to post but here I am! I want to thank my amazing bangtan hq sprinting crew who helped motivate me to finish this @purpletigertaetae @nightowls388 @shadowsremedy @wwilloww. This story was supposed to be a lot darker and a whole lot more filthy than it turned out. Wasn’t supposed to be fluffy at all and somehow it turned real quick so I hope you enjoy. I’d also like to state that I’m not promoting suicide or slightly toxic relationships, this is a fictional story and the reader hasn’t died, isn’t dead, and won’t die, so the suicidal scene in this is not meant to be disturbing. If you’re not comfortable reading, please don’t. Alright, I love you all.~ Hope you enjoy.

The biggest struggle of dating Taehyung was that no guide, tutorial, or advice blog post could’ve prepared you for what it was going to be like to be in a relationship with him. I almost wished there were some sort of ‘how to’ on dating a grim reaper because no matter how much dating experience I had, being with him was like being in my first relationship again.

It was a little unconventional, sure. Date nights were always iffy since, apparently, reapers don’t need sleep and therefore are technically scheduled around the clock. Boy, there was nothing like us setting up a nice, stay-at-home dinner date when he’d suddenly kiss my cheek and disappear into thin air, only to come back a few minutes later and announce he’d taken another soul. I’ll be honest, it was a slight mood killer.

But aside from his job description, Tae was a kind person. He didn’t seem to know exactly how to deal with human emotions, as his kind were strictly prohibited from having human-reaper relations and never had the opportunity to learn from us. But just because he didn’t know what emotions were, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel them. He was a sensitive guy, too.

I remembered the first time he cried. We were watching Marley & Me and I cried at the end like any other sane human being. Tae didn’t cry at all, in fact, knowing I was sad made him sad enough to tear up, even more so when he couldn’t get me to stop. That memory was one of my favorites purely because it was too wholesome to forget: a grim reaper crying because a girl was sad that a dog died in a movie.

But like every other person in the world, not ever emotion was positive.

Being much older than I, Taehyung didn’t really have moments where he got angry to the point of exploding in a fit. There wasn’t a situation where he ever passed that threshold, at least, not in front of me. The feelings Tae couldn’t quite grasp were hurt and jealousy.

From his own words, he never loved anyone before me, and something I knew better than anyone was that jealousy and love were very closely intertwined.

The first year we dated, I tried explaining to him what jealousy was, that even I felt it too in an attempt to teach him that he didn’t need to act on it. It was safe to say that it didn’t really work.

Over four and a half into our relationship together and Taehyung still chose to disappear whenever we got into a small petty argument that involved him taking something out of context and then not wanting to talk about it like the century old being that he was.

In our most recent example, my best friend, Sam, called and told me that she was expecting her first baby. We cried a little and then spent the rest of the conversation talking about whose eyes they would have or which parent they would most resemble. Tae and I never talked about kids nor a future together, we just lived in every moment the two of us were given, so indulging on a new topic with Sam gave me the image of tiny Tae-Taes waddling across the wooden floor, matching their father’s bright, boxy grin as they giggled.

I made one comment - one! I told her how I’d love to have mini-Taehyungs running about the place and that I was so excited to meet her little Sam. Somehow, he took that and ran with it.

He didn’t bother letting me speak, pulling the usual disappearing act he always resorted to when he was upset and didn’t want to properly face his feelings in the moment. I thought it would pass like all the rest, but something changed.

Hours passed and he never came to check in on me. Days flew by and I hadn’t heard from him. I wanted for him to come by, swallowing my pride and shouting at the empty air in hopes he was listening, to no avail. Nothing worked.

After two weeks of being ignored and left without so much as a trace, I decided to do what any normal girl would do to seek out her boyfriend’s attention.

I needed to kill myself.

I didn’t want to die, by any means. Tae knew how close I’d come to death a few too many times, but if I was going to get his attention back on me, I needed to attempt something stupid. Not only did it have to be stupid, it also had to be believable. I needed to convince him that I was going to die and hope he’d rescue me just in time.

I knew it wasn’t a good plan to start off with but it was the only thing I could come up with to get him to focus on me. The only reason I even thought of such a stupid idea was because I knew he’d never let me actually die. He saved me once and I was willing to bet he’d save me again and this time my life was actually on the line.

All that being said, I’ll regurgitate that it wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had.

What if he’d decided to have someone else cover me? What if the one time he decided he didn’t want to see me again, he passed the job on to someone else and they just let it go?

I shivered with that thought fresh in my mind. To say I was scared was a gross understatement, the thought of all the ways this could go bad were enough to paralyze me with fear. There was only one reason I stood there in our master bathroom with a bath full of water and a toaster in my hands, already plugged in and ready for me to drop it in.

If I wanted him to talk to me, I had to force him to keep me out of harm’s way.

Nervousness nagged at the back of my mind, heart beating a million miles a minute against my ribcage, forcing me to take a deep inhale of fresh air, even if it was only to calm my nerves for a few seconds. A few seconds was enough to release my grip and pray that Tae would be there to rescue me.

With a last shake of my head, I thought up a quick “I love you” to the universe as if the universe would deliver my message to my friends and family if things didn’t go as planned. And with that, I dropped the small appliance.

The moment it slipped from my fingers, I clenched my eyes tight and waited for the shock to ripple through my body in powerful waves, but nothing came. In fact, time itself seemed to slow down as a large clanging against the wall forced my eyes open, right as a tall, dark figure wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me out of the tub to press me against the wall adjacent.

Taehyung stood there, fuming in anger as his gaze bored into mine, hands gripping tightly to me and keeping me pressed against the wall, though I’m not sure if he was holding onto me to keep me steady or if he was preparing to murder me where I stood. To be fair, if it wasn’t for his hold on me, I would’ve slipped against the tile floor that puddled with the water leaking from the bottom half of my jeans. I added a mental note to myself that next time I do something like that again, I should prepare for it to actually work and actually wear a pair of shorts or something. But another problem for another time.

The sheer force in which Taehyung’s eyes glared into mine would normally have made me cower. But knowing I had to do something that stupid just to get him to talk to me again filled me with a burning anger that I didn’t know I had within me. With that newfound anger, I pushed back against his chest, my hands rebounding off his chest without moving him in the slightest. He dropped his hold on me and I stepped forward, my foot catching a slippery tile and making me bang my back against the wall roughly. A sharp pain shot through my back and Tae softened for a moment, reaching out again to steady me before I finally exploded.

“No. Don’t touch me! I don’t even know where to begin right now!” I defiantly shoved his hands away from my body and crossed my arms over my chest once I balanced out a bit.

“You? You?! The fuck did I do?” He argued, waving his hands in the air as if his gestures were defence enough for his stupid inhuman reactions.

“Oh, so you’re going to play stupid now, is that it? Really?” I barked, taking a step forward and poking a finger right against his tight chest. “I don’t know. How about the fact that you just walked out on me and never came back? What happened to having a normal fucking conversation like an adult?” He received a poke to his clothed peck with every word to emphasize what he’d done wrong.

Annoyed with me prodding at him in frustration, he grabbed my wrist at my last poke, holding my arm away from him and resumed the glaring. “You’re making this about me now? Are you going to completely ignore the fact that you almost just fried yourself? What the fuck were you thinking?!” He raised his voice, something he didn’t do often, and I naturally shied away from the loudness of his voice to keep my ears from ringing.

“Well I wouldn't have needed to do that had you come back to talk! Of course I tried to get your attention. I love you, you fucking moron,” I grunted, voice cracking at the end as tears instantly sprang to my eyes. Willing them away, I stood my ground and met Tae’s heated gaze with an unwavering one of my own. I wasn’t the one in the wrong.

“We did talk. Yeah I left, but I did that after I said things weren’t going to work out between us.”

He wasn’t wrong. He did technically say that but it was spoken like a passive statement made in anger, a second before he disappeared to wherever the fuck he went to whenever he was upset with me. So I was just supposed to accept that was it after four and a half years and no idea what broke the two of us. Fuck that, he meant too much to me.

“I don’t understand why you keep saying that. I made one comment - one! - about kids to Sam and now you’re dead-set on not being with me? Why are you so angry about that?” My words came out in a pained whisper as I pleaded with him. I just wanted a response back, to know what was hurting him so I could try and fix it.

His eyes shifted from mine repetitively, searching my face for something before he mumbled out, “Because I can’t give that to you.”

I froze, all but my heart coming to a halt as I processed his words. He couldn’t give that to me… Kids?

I couldn’t help the frown that framed my lips as his face morphed into one of discomfort, grimacing at himself. A pang of guilt smacked me right in the chest as his face fell. All of it began to make sense and I wasn’t sure if I made things better or worse by doing what I did.

“Tae…” I started, mouth agape as I tried to form some sort of response but I couldn’t think of one at that moment.

He straightened himself out and all visible evidence of his emotional expression was wiped clean off his features. “I can’t give you kids,” he repeated clearly, seemingly more for himself than for me.

Pride swelled up in me and I reached out to wrap my arms around his midsection to hug him close.

“Baby,” I cooed, a fresh wave of tears threatening to soak into his soft cotton shirt as I smothered my face against him, taking in his scent and his warmth. He returned the embrace, tightly hugging me back with his nose buried atop my head.

“You’re not mad at me,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

I shook my head against him, squeezing him that much tighter to reassure him. “I figured it wasn’t biologically possible, but there are plenty of ways for couples to have kids when they otherwise can’t themselves.”

I imagined his brows furrowing as he turned his head, resting the side of his plump cheek on top of my hair. “I don’t understand.”

Pulling back, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes and smiled supportively. Our kids don’t have to look like either of us to be ‘little Taehyungs’ or little ‘Y/Ns’.” I leaned back further and pressed my chin against the center of his chest, humming as he readjusted his embrace around me. “I’ll see you in the way they smile or laugh, all those little idiosyncrasies they pick up from you that make them you kids.”

Tae blinked with a blank expression on his face, staring me down without so much as a response to follow up. The longer he went without responding, the stronger my heart pounded in my chest.

We never had any serious talks like that before because everything about our relationship was too complicated. Marriage and families weren’t even on our mind, at least not on mine until Sam was getting her own, and suddenly I realized how I’d love to have a family with Taehyung, no matter how unconventional. But there’s a chance that could’ve just been me. Maybe it was too early to be talking about that so Tae didn’t really have an opinion since he couldn’t have kids. Maybe he was trying not to hurt my feelings? God, I broke him.

I cleared my throat and opening my mouth to talk when he cut me off. “So you’re not mad that I…. you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I’m okay with it. Sure, I’m a teenie but sad they probably won’t have your boxy grin or your cute little nose freckle, but our kids would be cute regardless.” The anxiety I had towards his response was no longer a thought in my mind as I suddenly grinned, punctuating my statement with a kiss on his chin, which he playfully returned. But he didn’t stop there. Strong hands gripped the back of my thighs and urged me to jump, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist as he pushed us up against the wall once more, chaste kisses littered across the length of my face. Each peck tickled, giggles pouring past my lips as I scrunched my nose up and took all the comfort he gave. Lips trailed down my neck before he buried his face in the crook of my collarbone, happily sighing against ym skin with a happy hum.

The smile on my lips pinched at my cheeks, making my face ache with the strength of my happiness alone. I never knew he’d have such a human response to something like kids. It made my heart flutter to know that’s where his heart and mind were, that he wasn’t actually mad at me.

With determination, he pushed us off of the bathroom wall and opened the door to our shared bedroom, carrying me to the bed where he motioned to put me down.

“Babe, my pants are still wet,” I reminded him, to which he nodded and set me down a foot or so away to stand in front of him.

“Well, we’re going to solve that,” he quipped, reaching down between us to fumble with the button and zipper on my jeans while I grinned up at him. It wasn’t what I had in mind when planning this out but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

He had a few issues with the clasping mechanics of my pants, a regular issue he was faced with, and grunted in irritation. I giggled, brushing back the long strands of hair behind his ear before a loud ripping sound pulled my attention.

“Baby! These are my favorite jeans!” I screeched at Taehyung, lips pouting as I admired the fresh rip down the center of the jeans that paralleled the zipper. You know, the zipper he could’ve just undone.

Lips pressed to my forehead as a chuckle rippled through his chest. “Not anymore, they’re not.” He meant it to tease but I still glared at him, not finding it in me to laugh at the expense of my favorite pair of jeans. “Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he offered in a light-hearted tone, making me roll my eyes and return the kiss to his chin.

Lean fingers dipped into the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down my hips until they passed the curve of my ass. But the material from the thigh down was still sopping wet and made it even more entertaining to watch him struggle to slide the denim down my legs, coaxing another giggle from me.

“Fuck, why is this so difficult?” Tae let out a soft groan, giving up on his quest of removing the wet article and instead closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.

“What about my pants? Not going to rip them all the way?” I wriggled my eyebrows and laughed when he rolled his eyes back.

“Pants or no pants, I’m still fucking you into the mattress.” His voice dripped with heat, his tone comparing to sex itself, sensual and deep, which made the words shoot straight down to my core.

As promised, he stalked towards me until the back of my knees pressed up against the edge of the bed. He didn’t miss a beat, cupping my face with his large palms and pulling me into a deep kiss that took away what little breath I had after his sexy statement. His tongue skimmed over the seam of my mouth, canines digging into the flesh of my bottom lip as he gave me that final push back onto the bed, lowering me down with a steady hold on my back until I was flush against the mattress with him hovering above me. Mouths lavished over one another, pulling the other into each other as far as our bodies would let us until the lack of oxygen forced me to pull away for a moment.

I wasted no time in pulling the white shirt from his black dress slacks, untucking his usual orderly work clothes so I could dip my hand under the smooth material to feel his bare warmth against my fingers. Each little divot and bulge across his stomach only added to the arousal gathering between my legs, allowing my fingers to explore the clothed spaced with the image of him naked on my mind.

The thought of that alone drove me mad, thighs instinctively rubbing together to relieve some of the pent up pressure. But doing so only reminded me of the pants I still had clinging to the lower part of my legs, the tight and uncomfortable sticky feeling causing a slight bubble of irritation to well up within me.

“Bab-” I started, cut off by Tae’s lips roughly soothing over mine with a kiss deeper than the one before it. It was his mission to explore my mouth, delving deep inside to slide his tongue along mine in a dance for passion, not power. There was no struggle in the kiss, which was different - a good different that made my heart beat just a little bit harder for him.

“Sh, ignore the pants,” Taehyung whispered against my lips and I had to force down the eyeroll that almost surfaced at such a dismissive response.

As I was about to protest further, Tae parted from the kiss and pushed himself from the bed, kneeling down on the floor and pushing my legs up until they tucked up to my chest to expose my clothed core for his eyes to feast on. The tip of his tongue swiped across his lips before he dove down, pushing my panties out of the way to dip a finger shallowly into my sopping heat. I moaned softly, holding onto my ruined jeans with one hand and sneaking the other around to his head, intertwining my fingers in his soft, chestnut locks.

Without warning, Tae pushed his finger in to the knuckle and lowered his head to hungrily lap at my clip over my already soaked underwear, ripping a moan forcefully from my throat. He moaned in return, any noise that left my mouth only adding to his determination to work me up and get me as wet as inhumanly possible. He sped up his pace, curling the tip of his finger to stroke the pad of his fingertip along the rough patch at the top, the spot that made my mind go blank and left me a mumbling mess for him to please. He always knew how to hit the right place, each and every time together was spent as a new learning experience for him to map out and worship my body as I did his.

A few pumps later, Tae placed a sloppy, wet kiss along the inside of my thigh before adding a finger to the one already thrusting into my cunt at a moderate pace. The stretch burned despite how slender his fingers were, always filling me up nicely. Brushing against a particular spot deep within me, I was left gasping for air, tugging the strands at the top of his head as I attempted to buck my hips against his hand to meet each of his thrusts, my sopping pussy tembling around his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. You always take me so fucking well,” he praised, leaving a few stray kisses along my thigh to accompany the faster pace he’d set, working his fingers into me as if he could do it all fucking night long.

“Mmh, Tae,” I groaned, abandoning the grip on my legs to ground myself against the duvet underneath.

“What, baby? What do you want?” Rougher kisses were pressed into the length of my thigh and along my wet mound, tongue practically dancing everywhere but my clit to tease me.

“Tae-Tae, I want you in me. Please.”

Despite the urgency in my request, Tae peeked around my legs with a softened look, eyes kind as his body smile outshines the gloss of arousal painting his lips and chin.

“Yeah? Where do you want me, baby? Here?” He asked with a slide of his fingers across my g-spot, causing my thighs to quake as I fought off the softest hint of an orgasm. I nodded and begged him for his cock while he rubbed the remainder of my slick from his face and onto his sleeve, towering over me once again as he climbed up the bed once again, having stripped himself of his clothes. The heat returned to his gaze as he devoured my body with his eyes, not needed for me to be naked in order to let his imagination run wild.

Leaving a soft kiss against my lips, he pushed back to sit on his knees and lifted my legs up until my feet rested against the top of his shoulder. The position we were in gave him the perfect view of my ruined panties, his eyes lit up with a heat unlike anything I’d ever seen from him before as he traced the material with his fingertip.

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?” He asked, fighting the blush that creeped up his neck and into his ears as he stayed locked onto my clothed pussy.

His words made me giddy, the thought of him fucking me and getting me pregnant with his child adding fuel to our very passionate fire. “Please, I want your baby, Tae,” I whined. He dragged his cockhead against my clothed core, earning a grunt from us both. With a push of my panties to the side and a gentle rock of his hips against my own, the entirety of his cock slid into me, walls protested the stretch his thick girth gave despite the prep, drawing a synchronized moan from us.

“Oh fuck, babe,” I groaned, fisting the sheets beneath me as his grip aropund my legs tightened. He stilled when the last inch of his cock sank into me, the tremble in his breath telling me he felt the tightness in this position too. Without warning, he dragged his hips back, exposing everything but the tip of his cock before he quickly thrusted back in.

He continued his languid pace while pressing open kisses to my foot just beneath the hem of the jeans, nails raking against the flesh of my thigh before his eyes flickered down to me.

I gasped when he adjusted the angle of his hips and targeted my g-spot without miss, setting a punishing pace with his hips as he suddenly drove his cock into me roughly. I moaned out, teeth capturing my bottom lip to contain the sounds his actions were tearing from my throat.

With a grunt, Tae switched our positions, lowering himself down until his shoulders nestled in the hollow of my knees, face ducking down to pull my lips into a kiss as he resumed his powerful thrusts into my aching pussy.

The new position had every part of my body humming in happiness, the surface of my flesh tingling with each thrust he gave until my eyes shut. Our lips danced together, tongues stealing tastes of one another as the little sounds we made were muted by the other. I fisted a hand in his sweaty hair, using the brunette strands to ground me against his assault against my hips. I tried to meet his thrusts, but the awkward position left me lying there, unable to move, as I took his cock as he gave it.

I tightened around him, loving the way I felt every ridge of his thick length as it disappeared from my cunt and pushed back inside to hit me in all the right places. After so many thrusts against that spot deep within me, a pressure built up in my lower stomach that burned, growing in size with each pump of his cock until I whined, needing pressure on my clit to push me over that final edge.

Knowing exactly what I wanted, he snuck a hand between us and used the slick on my thighs to wet his thumb before swiping rigorously against my sensitive clit. I mewled in pleasure at the contact, throwing my head back and parting our lips as loud whines and moans leaked from my mouth. It was almost too much, the combination of his hand and his cock throwing me over the edge faster than I could ever get myself off, pushing me over that ledge and into my orgasm.

I mumbled incoherently as my spasming cunt only drove Taehyung to ride out into his own orgasm, continuing his brutal pace until his cock twitched and stilled inside me, filling me to the brim with his seed.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, taking the time to catch our breaths and return to reality. My body protested him pulling his limp cock from my oversensitive hole, making me grimace. When he pulled back and released my legs from his grip, I groaned at the stiffness in my legs from being in that position for a while, but completely forgot about that as goosebumps fluttered over my skin and brought my attention back down to the soaked jeans I still had on my body.

Taehyung noticed my shivering and gave a small laugh, deciding to help me out and finally rip each of the legs until the material wasn’t too tight to remove. Sticking to the stripping, I took off my top and unclasped my bra, flinging both across the room to deal with later as Tae stood at the edge of our bed, between my legs. His eyes locked onto the cum dripping from my pussy and he couldn’t contain a grin as he reached forward and swiped a drop up onto his finger to push it back inside of me.

“Well, at least we’ll know for sure,” Tae murmured to himself.

“Hm?” I hummed, reaching out with grabby hands for him to come join me on the bed, which he did with a soft smile and a peck to the nose.

“I’ve always assumed we can’t have kids. I guess now we’ll figure out whether I was right or wrong.”

#creaturesofmm #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #bangtanuniversity #bts smut #taehyung smut #grim reaper au #halloween au #collab

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journalxxx · 3 years

Text

By Hook or by Crook (7)

“So! How does it look?” Toshinori asked, with a booming voice and his best hands-on-hips pose to kickstart the endeavor with a healthy dose of enthusiasm.

He wasn’t particularly successful.

“Daunting. Impossible. Like I’m gonna die of old age before I’m anywhere close to making a change.”

“A little optimism goes a long way, you know?”

“...I may not die before I’ve lugged away some of this.” Midoriya amended tentatively, scanning the extensive length of garbage-filled beach stretching before them. “And… what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger?”

“That’s the spirit!” Toshinori gave him a pat on the back, strong enough to make the boy stammer forwards. He walked around the back of the truck and started unloading the few supplies he’d brought.

“Wear these.” Toshinori threw him a pair of work gloves. He hoped he’d eyeballed the size right. “I trust you’re up to date with all your vaccines.”

“Uhm.”

“Hopefully no one’s dumping organic waste in here, but I’ll bring some traps if you see any rats. They won’t solve the problem, but it’s better than letting them scurry around freely.”

Midoriya’s eyes darted between the gloves and the beach with muted horror. “R-Rats?”

“Scared of rats?” Toshinori couldn’t help but tease. “Did I mention that I had to wade through the sewers for half an hour before finding you and the sludge villain the other day?”

Midoriya instantly looked mortified. “I-I’m sorry-”

“Not your fault! Don’t apologize!” Toshinori tossed his hands in the air. This kid desperately needed to learn the basic mechanics of humor. “I’m just saying that heroes can’t be squeamish! Rats come with the job, as well as a variety of nasty stuff and filth.”

“Right.” Midoriya followed him as Toshinori, cooler in one hand and bag of papers in the other, sat down on the last steps of the stairs. He picked an egg sandwich for himself and fished a folder out of the bag, opening it on his thighs and starting to read it.

It took him a few seconds to realize that Midoriya was still staring at him, as if awaiting further instructions.

“Well? Have at it!” Toshinori gestured widely at his new playground.

“Oh, uhm, okay.” The kid donned the gloves and took a single step towards the piles before pausing to look at Toshinori again. “I thought you wanted to ask me… stuff.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure you can handle working and talking at the same time without building up some stamina first.” Toshinori answered, eyeing the boy’s scrawny frame critically. “We’ll talk while you’ll be taking a break to catch a breather, which is probably going to happen sooner rather than later.”

“Oh… All right.” Midoriya turned away, his arms hanging limply from hunched shoulders as he muttered to himself. “...Where do I even start...?”

“From the small things. Working your way up to the heavier objects.” Toshinori explained patiently, then gave him a pointed look. “I get the feeling you’re procrastinating.”

The boy approached the closest stack… and did nothing. Was he ever going to stop waffling and get cracking? “Meanwhile, you’ll just, uh… do your own thing?”

“Surely you don’t need me to guide you through the elaborate process of moving objects from point A to point B, do you?” Maybe the kid detected the hint of annoyance in Toshinori’s voice, because he finally, finally set to grab the closest piece of junk- “...Oh. Okay, that’s not a great start.”

“What?” Midoriya stopped halfway through picking up what was probably the first electric fan ever invented, all the way back in the Iron Age. “I haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Bend your knees, not your back. Otherwise you’re going to- do you really not know this? Isn’t the correct way to lift weights Household Chores 101?”

“Oh, right, I know.” Midoriya rearranged his stance in a way that was less likely to earn him a slipped disk within the next two hours. “Do people really lift things like this though? It’s… a lot harder than the normal way.”

“For your legs, yes. For your back, no. You’ll thank me when you’ll be old enough to realize you aren’t made out of rubber.”

Toshinori munched slowly while he watched the kid carry his first loads to the truck. That act alone seemed to distract Midoriya to an amusing degree, his gaze often flicking to meet Toshinori’s eyes for just a moment before shooting back in front of him with blatant self-consciousness. Toshinori allowed the boy a few minutes of warm-up, just the time for him to finish his sandwich and sip a small cup of apple juice, before deciding to kick things into proper gear.

“Running from the truck to the heaps and vice versa would help you gain some endurance too, rather than leisurely strolling back and forth.” Toshinori commented as Midoriya walked past him.

The kid stopped in his tracks and regarded him with a mix of horror and aversion that vaguely reminded him of death-row inmates when faced with their executioners.

“What?” Toshinori went on, unperturbed. “Are you expecting to get fit without getting tired?”

“No, of course not-”

“Besides, you’ll need to keep a swift pace if you want to clear the whole beach before the admission exam.”

“Wha- All of it?! Before the…” Midoriya sputtered, arms wrapping more tightly around the broken chair he was holding as if that was supporting him instead of the other way around. “Y-You never said…”

“But of course! They don’t do things by half measures in U.A., so why should you?” Toshinori grinned. “Plus Ultra, am I right?”

Midoriya let out an incredulous chuckle. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no way I can do something like that...”

“Depends on how much elbow grease you’re willing to put into it.”

Midoriya’s expression shifted minutely as he caught onto Toshinori’s seriousness. “But… but that’s impossible! No matter how hard I work, I can’t- I can’t move stuff like that!” He griped, pointing at the wrecked husk of a van half-buried under a mound of assorted refuse. “Even if I do my best-”

“And pray tell, what’s your best?” Toshinori stood up and walked to the kid, ditching the whimsical demeanor. If playful cajoling wasn’t enough to stir him, maybe it was time to bust out the big guns. “What’s the heaviest you can lift? The fastest you can run? The hardest you can push yourself? When’s the last time you actually tried your very best, and how did it fall short?”

Toshinori was already well and truly spent for the day, but he let the provocation and drive in his words stoke the fire within him, and it flared. The Symbol of Peace broke out of his diminutive shell among dramatic wisps of steam, ready to bestow his wisdom more effectively than his rickety counterpart ever could.

“Do you know what’s the only way to gauge your limits? Reaching them. And the only way to get stronger?“ Toshinori held out his arm between them, and clenched his fist resolutely. He relished the sensation of unyielding muscles tensing and bulging under his skin, tangible proof of the truth of his assertions. “Gritting your teeth and smashing past them! Little by little, but constantly!”

Midoriya had only witnessed that transformation once, poorly and by accident, and it showed. The chair had slipped from his hands without him even noticing, and now lay forgotten at his feet on the bare sand. The kid was gawking at him with wide eyes and mouth agape, the very picture of spellbound rapture. It was far from an unfamiliar reaction from whoever was graced by the Symbol of Peace’s presence, and yet it was still flattering, every time.

“You’ll never improve if you keep dwelling on what you think you can do now. Focus on what you want to do next. Visualize it as a clear goal. Build an image out of it, and then carve it in reality. If you really want that van to move, then it will move. If you really want this beach to be clear, then it will be. But you have to put your back, sweat and heart into making it happen!”

All Might captivated his one-man audience with the usual effortlessness, boisterous showmanship and honest positivity deeply intertwined in a way that boggled his detractors’ minds, but that felt so natural and appropriate to Toshinori. He’d made an art out of it, down to the rumble of his voice and the firmness of his gestures and the levity of his attitude, the art of highlighting and displaying the very best parts of himself so that they could resonate louder, better, brighter.

“So what will it be, young Midoriya? Will you clean up this place within the next ten months or not?”

“Y-Yes. I will.” That had done the trick. It was obvious from the way Midoriya’s back straightened and his expression toughened. It was obvious from the spark kindled in his eyes, a reflection of Toshinori’s own passion, still lacking in heat but full of potential.

“Then you’d better get down to it!” The hero sealed the deal with a radiant smile and a thumbs up. “Time’s a-wastin’!”

“Yes, sir!” Midoriya picked up the chair and dashed towards the truck to unload it there, then he immediately bounced back down the stairs and towards the nearest heap of waste. Toshinori observed the boy’s next rounds with his unwavering smile and few approving nods that kept the kid a bit lighter on his feet.

How much easier it was for All Might to touch people’s hearts. How much easier to inspire, to reassure, to nurture. How much easier everything was for All Might, really. If only that shining beacon of hope wasn’t shackled by the whims of a withering body, how much richer society at large would be for it.

Toshinori let out a deep exhale that took more than just air out of him, and the flame settled down to a low glow. He couldn’t hold back a few wet coughs, and he promptly turned his shrunken back on Midoriya’s concerned glance to sit back on the cool steps.

Unfortunately, there was a lot more than motivation to strength training. Right off the bat, Toshinori could tell that Midoriya wasn’t going to last twenty full minutes of workout. He honestly didn’t know that an ostensibly healthy individual could reach the ripe age of fourteen with such poor body awareness. The boy had coordination and balance on par with a toddler’s: he stumbled on his feet, he tripped on sand, he nearly fell off the stairs twice before realizing that trying to climb them while his view was obstructed by the very items he was carrying might be a less than optimal solution. He seemed to be unaware of the existence of entire muscle groups, and Toshinori had to physically get up and mime movements for him to understand how to exert force more efficiently. Not to mention that he needed incessant needling lest his sprints quickly devolved into lax jogs.

This whole training thing was going to be… an interesting experience, Toshinori could already tell.

Exactly sixteen and a half minutes later, the boy all but collapsed on the stairs beside Toshinori, gasping for air and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

“B-Break?” He pleaded, quite redundantly.

Toshinori took pity on his plight and pushed the cooler in his direction. “Have a drink.”

“Oh, thank you…” The lack of polite refusal made Toshinori suspect that Midoriya had forgotten to bring his own water.

“There’s sports drinks and fruit juice in there too. Save the snacks for after you’re finished, food and heavy workouts don’t always agree with each other.” Toshinori had packed food primarily for himself, expecting their after-school meeting to last long enough for him to slot in one or two meals in the meantime, but he had taken care of adding a few extras for the kid. A good idea, because the possibility of Midoriya face planting on the ground halfway through out of sheer exhaustion seemed more and more likely by the minute.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to…”

“I promised bribes, didn’t I?”

Midoriya flashed him the tiniest smile, and eagerly drank some water while Toshinori retrieved a small journal and a pen from the other bag. He skimmed through the list of preliminary topics he’d scribbled on the first page under Tsukauchi’s advice, wondering which one he should tackle first.

“All right.” Deciding to follow his instinct in spite of basic common sense, Toshinori decided to begin from the end. “These phone calls of yours. Give me an idea of what they’re like. The last one you had with your father was on April 1st, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it. Everything you talked about, as precisely as you can remember it.”

The good thing was that Midoriya’s memory was very accurate, and he was able to recall the whole conversation basically step by step. The less good thing was that said conversation was largely commonplace and unremarkable, consisting of very ordinary small talk and inquiries about school, grades, news, local events-

“Quirks?”

“Mh-hm.” The boy nodded. “We always end up talking about quirks, in one way or another. Quirks and heroes. It’s always been… a common interest.”

“Always, uh?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing it since… forever, really. I’ve always found quirks fascinating, and he has lots of great insight to offer.”

“I can imagine...” Toshinori mumbled. Asking who had initiated that habit was probably pointless, it sounded like it had started too early in the boy’s life for him to remember - or even to understand if he had been deliberately led to develop that interest. Some intriguing nature-versus-nurture speculations could be made on the matter, but they weren’t likely to aid Tsukauchi’s case. “And in what way do you talk about them?”

“We… analyze them, discuss them. What is known for sure about a certain quirk, what can be deduced from footage and descriptions of its use, what its unmentioned limitations might be, how it could be further developed… You saw my notebook, right? Basically the kind of stuff that’s in there.”

“Wait.” Toshinori blinked. Could he have already stumbled into a treasure trove of All For One-certified information? “You mean that all that’s written in that notebook was dictated by your father?”

The kid almost choked on his next gulp of water, and shot Toshinori an almost offended look. “No! No, no, it’s all stuff I found out on my own! Well, almost all of it, there are some additions of his here and there, but… Uh, I’d say at least 90% of it is mine, and 10% of it is his… Actually, more like 95% and 5%-”

Well, that sounded less promising, but it was still a lead. “So he’s been basically teaching you how to conduct your own quirk analyses?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say teaching. I wish our school teachers were that engaging...” Midoriya let out a small sigh. “But I guess we do go about it a little like with school essays. Research, deadline, discussion and all that…”

“Pardon?”

“Well, every month we decide which heroes or quirks we’re going to talk about the next time - back in March we chose Hawks, Kido and Snatch for last month’s call, for example. During the rest of the month we gather information and draw our conclusions, and then we compare them during the next chat.”

“You’ve got quite the well-oiled routine going on there, haven’t you?”

“Actually, I think it’s just to give me a chance to make my own deductions with a clear head instead of on the fly.” Midoriya scratched said tousled head in embarrassment. “I bet he doesn’t even need to do any research, he’s always on the top of his game. I’ve never been able to, uh… one-up him, you know? He always knows what I’m driving at, and somehow he always brings my hypotheses two or three steps further than where I stop.”

Toshinori answered with a non-committal hum. No surprise there, the man was a living quirk storeroom complete with its own self-congratulatory, sentient database. “You don’t seem too bothered by it though.”

“Oh, I’m not. It’s not like he’s ever… disappointed or angry or anything, even if I don’t get stuff. He just enjoys chatting, I guess.” That he surely did, Toshinori grimly thought. Way too much. “And I do too. It’s kind of like a game. Or a challenge.”

“A challenge?”

“Yeah, uh… How can I explain…?” The boy drummed his fingers on the bottle as he collected his thoughts. “Okay, for example: one of the first things dad asked me about Hawks was what shape his wings are, and what I could deduce from that about his flight capabilities. Which was a trick question! I knew it as soon as I heard it, because I’d already figured out the real answer during my research.”

“Ah.” Toshinori blinked. “And… how is that a trick question, exactly?”

“Because Hawks doesn’t actually fly! Not like a bird, at least, so his wing shape doesn’t matter!” Midoriya beamed, and suddenly Toshinori realized that that was the first real, genuine, enthusiastic smile the boy had given him since they’d met. And, without exaggeration, not crying, panicking or grimacing made him look almost like an entirely different person. “He simply can’t! Humans can’t fly even if you stick a pair of wings to them, they’re just too heavy! Other heroes who can fly properly are mostly transformers, like Ryukyu - their whole bodies change when they shift, bone structure and all - but Hawks’ body is entirely human if you exclude his wings.”

Midoriya reached for his backpack and drew out the same charred notebook Toshinori had signed days earlier. An item so vital to the kid’s daily life that he always had it with him, apparently, even more essential than beverages during a workout session. A peculiar, if questionable, trait.

“What Hawks actually does isn’t flying, it’s levitating!” The kid held the notebook open before Toshinori’s eyes on a spread page dedicated to the hero in question. “He uses the second facet of his quirk, the telekinesis that allows him to control his feathers singularly! That also explains his incredible speed, which is completely unjustifiable if you only take into account normal bird flight aerodynamics. His propulsion is powered by his feathers - and each of them is quite speedy and powerful on its own, so it stands to reason that he would be lightning-fast when his wings contain so many of them pushing him in unison!”

Toshinori politely elected to wait for the onslaught of words to subside on its own, although he already suspected that it was a little like standing right under a waterfall and waiting for someone higher up to turn off the faucet.

“That said, that doesn’t explain everything about his quirk… For example, a single feather of his is capable of lifting and transporting an adult person, that has been extensively documented. Yet, he loses the ability to levitate relatively soon after dispatching too many of them - he becomes unable to float even when he still has at least several dozens of them attached to his body. We couldn’t figure out why that happens with the information we have. Maybe it’s harder for him to apply his power to himself, that is often the case for emitters. Maybe it messes with his proprioception, and he can’t control the feathers he hasn’t detached as finely as all the others…”

If there was one thing Toshinori was absolutely certain of at this point, it was that the kid wasn’t short on breath any more. “And this is the part you inferred on your own.”

“Yep! And dad agreed with all of it!” Midoriya’s smile grew even wider. It was astonishing how much it didn’t look like dad’s deranged, shark-like, nightmare-inducing sneer, and Toshinori could only send a quiet thanks to the heavens for that. “This is all guesswork though. Do you… by any chance, do you know if we were on the right track? I’d be really curious to know…”

“Ah, I can’t help you there, kid.” Toshinori felt suddenly on the spot. “I’m not acquainted with Hawks, nor do I know more about his quirk than the average person.”

“Oh, I thought… Since you’re both- I mean, I thought All Might may have met him during the billboard chart events, what with them both being in the top ten.”

“We passed by each other, yes, but we were never properly introduced. He wasn’t particularly interested in rubbing elbows with the old guard, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well, that’s his loss, for sure.” Midoriya, funnily enough, pouted. “Pity, I was wondering… Even if he doesn’t fly, he does flap his wings in a way that resembles a bird’s. I wonder if that’s intentional, to mislead opponents and prevent them from figuring out how he actually moves. Or maybe he does it subconsciously…”

“I’m afraid I really don’t know…” Toshinori had never met Hawks on the field either, it wasn’t common for accidents to require more than a single big-name hero to intervene these days. Especially if one of them was the number one, who often showed up first and invariably solved any incident in mere minutes-

Toshinori suddenly came back to himself and almost facepalmed in frustration. Why was he letting himself be interrogated about completely irrelevant hero trivia? He was the one asking questions! God, he was bad at this. “And your father had nothing to contribute about all this?”

“Not about this specifically, but he did raise a point I hadn’t considered.” Midoriya looked up at the sky, once again lost in his very wordy, very deep lucubrations. “Hawks has an astonishing control on his quirk. He can use his telekinesis to move hundreds of feathers at once, to sense his surroundings, he can even harden them and turn them into weapons. He made Fierce Wings into an incredibly versatile ability, and he’s so young too… And yet, there’s no record of him attending any hero school or training facility in Japan, nor abroad. He claims to be self-taught, but… admittedly, it is hard to believe. One would think he must have had some excellent education and tutoring to make it into the top ten when he was only eighteen…”

Toshinori didn’t reply. Midoriya looked back at him when the silence stretched, and whatever he spied on Toshinori’s face made him immediately backpedal. “I-I mean, it’s odd, but, uh… not suspicious per se, nor a sign of anything… weird or bad about him. There are many heroes who, ehr, prefer to keep their personal history private, especially geniuses, and that’s fine! They have all the right to! Same goes for their quirks, it makes total sense-”

Toshinori massaged his left temple slowly. Right, better just nip this topic in the bud before it got irredeemably out of hand.

He peered again at the notebook in Midoriya’s hands. So All For One had been imparting occasional, amicable quirk analysis lessons to the kid for a good decade, which sounded suspiciously like the kind of knowledge a potential underling or successor might use. On the other hand, Toshinori could think of a million other ways for the Symbol of Fear to instil skills in his son - all of them remarkably more efficient, safe, manageable and ruthless. The whole thing was contradictory in a way that didn’t sit right with Toshinori.

“Mind if I take another look at that?” Toshinori had been in a bit of a rush the first time round, and he’d only taken a cursory glance at the contents of Midoriya’s notes. But if there was a chance of those pages containing words uttered by All For One himself, a more thorough examination was in order.

“Not at all! But, uh…” Midoriya was fast to hand out the item, but his eagerness to assist was even faster to dampen. “Are you going to retain this as evidence too?”

“Mh, I don’t think that will be necessary...” Right, the poor kid’s house had probably been ransacked even further after Toshinori and Tsukauchi’s first pass. No wonder he was worried about losing this prized possession too. “But if it will be, I can make a copy of it for you to keep, so you won’t lose all your, uh, data.”

“Oh, thanks! That would be great!” The kid perked up instantly. He was so easy to please. “Although… I guess I should make a copy of it myself anyway. It’s already kind of… unrecoverable. I could detach the pages with All Might’s sign and preserve those separately, and just photocopy everything else…”

Toshinori’s imagination mercilessly supplied him with the picture of a new addition to Midoriya’s bedroom decor, his five-second poorly-made signature hung to a wall in an elegant frame. He repressed a groan, deliberately neglected to point out that he could simply provide as many new authentic signs as needed, and directed his attention back to the scorched edges of the notebook. “Right… What happened to this thing, anyway? Did someone put it in a toaster?”

Midoriya let out a totally not nervous chuckle as he wrung his hands in a totally not nervous fashion. “Oh, uhm... You know…” Toshinori didn’t, actually, but the kid didn’t elaborate either.

Well, he was allowed to have a modicum of privacy, still. Toshinori let the issue drop, and nudged the boy with his foot. “You seem well rested. Back to the trash you go.”

Midoriya shuffled to his feet less than enthusiastically, and resumed toiling away at his task. While still checking on him often, ready to poke and prod at the first hint of sluggishness, Toshinori browsed through the kid’s notebook. While the contents were indeed worthy of attention, they were scarce in quantity. It must be rather new, since less than a quarter of the pages had been filled. However, the promise of more material to be discovered made Toshinori withhold his judgement on the matter for the time being.

Once that was done, he continued his perusal of the few files Tsukauchi had already put together about the Midoriya case. Toshinori had practically begged his friend to let him have an active role, any active role in the case: he simply couldn’t bear to twiddle his thumbs until someone else kindly pointed him to All For One’s hideout for another overdue thrashing. He simply needed to be involved, or he’d probably start crawling up walls within a week.

Questioning the kid was pretty much the only suitable occupation for him, currently… Well, it was either that or questioning Mrs. Midoriya, and Toshinori was fairly sure that his brain would leak out of his ears if he heard any more details about All For One’s romantic escapades. He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to investigative work, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he was going to spare no effort to earn some results. If that meant poring over reams of police reports in the hopes of spotting some helpful clue, so be it. At least it would keep him busy, and busy was good, especially in trying times.

He’d applied the same logic to Midoriya, in a sense. The boy seemed the kind of person who’d very easily overthink himself into a negative spiral, even in less dire circumstances than the messy family drama he’d found himself into. It would do him good to focus on a better future, rather than on his depressing present. Giving him a goal to set his sights on would keep him going more smoothly.

At first Toshinori had thought to motivate him towards his dream career, but it turned out that the boy’s strategy about the admission test was… nebulous at best. Not that he could truly blame him for it: fourteen-year-old Toshinori didn’t exactly have a multi-step plan towards becoming the Symbol of Peace either, one couldn’t help being somewhat scatterbrained at that age.

The illegal dumping site had been a serendipitous discovery, and cleaning it up was the perfect type of goal to incite the boy towards. It was very obvious and straightforward, and required no intricate planning: he simply needed to roll up his sleeves and buckle down. And the muscle he’d build while doing it would serve him well for heroic purposes too, so it was a win-win on all fronts. Not to mention that some good old physical exertion would help him sleep at night, which he was still struggling with, if the persistent bags under his eyes were of any indication. Toshinori dearly missed the times when that trick still worked on him too, when driving himself to the brink of exhaustion was a guaranteed one-way ticket to restful and regenerative dreamland. Nowadays, if he accumulated even a sliver of excessive fatigue, all he got was… well, fatigue. And a metric ton of unrelenting body pains and lasting debilitation.

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly and unremarkably. Midoriya drudged through many rounds of garbage disposal with decreasing energy and verve, but that was to be expected. Toshinori collected more barely relevant and generally useless information, but that was to be expected too. They were both in for the long haul, there was no point in getting upset about it. Eventually the sun started to set, and Toshinori beckoned the boy back to him with a handwave.

“You have more of these?” Toshinori said, tapping his index on the big 13 on the cover of the notebook still on his lap.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Could you bring them with you next time?”

“All of them?” Midoriya seemed frazzled.

“If you still have them, yes. Would that be a problem?”

The boy scratched his head as his cheek reddened slightly. “N-No, not a problem, but some of them are really… I finished the first one when I was seven. They aren't just outdated, they’re… ehr, childish. Just doodles and misspelled ramblings.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll be grading them.” Not yet, at least. Toshinori smirked at his own private joke. Maybe he should grade them, as a small practice run. “I just want to give a quick read to a few things here and there.”

“O-Okay…”

“Good. Well, I think we can call it a day.” Toshinori rummaged in his cooler to fetch a chocolate energy bar, and tossed it to the exhausted boy. “Catch.”

Despite the warning, Midoriya did not catch, and the snack bumped against his chest and fell to the ground with a sad clack. Reflexes were MIA too, apparently. What a rare specimen of a prospective hero Toshinori had crossed paths with.

“T-Thank you!” Midoriya immediately picked it up, unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth as he hopped into the passenger seat of the truck. Whether it was real hunger or fear of passing as rude, Toshinori couldn’t tell.

The drive to Midoriya’s house was brief. The boy was too tired to chat - as if they hadn’t already had their fill for the day. When they arrived and Midoriya climbed out of the vehicle to be on his way, Toshinori finally addressed one last pressing issue.

“Tomorrow your father is going to call you.”

“Yeah.” The kid’s eyes dropped to the ground. Maybe Toshinori should have brought it up sooner. Way to end the meeting on a sour note.

“How are you going to handle that?”

“I’m not.” The boy shrugged. “Mom will tell him I just got my tonsils removed. It's… safer for now. I think.”

Toshinori nodded. “Let’s take a day off then. Even if you can’t speak, he might want to say something to you, and it would be strange for you not to be at home while recovering.”

“Okay.”

He looked so very small, and so very young like that, bathed in the warm hues of sunset, but with no real warmth to his eyes and demeanor. He was too small and too young to be dealing with this shit. No one was old or big enough to deal with any of All For One’s shit, really. Toshinori would have to make sure no one would have to ever again.

“Thank you for your help today. It’s very appreciated, believe me.” Toshinori offered, with his most sincere smile. “Feel free to text me or Tsukauchi if anything comes up, you should be able to reach at least one of us at any hour of day or night.”

“Okay. Thank you. Have a good evening.”

“You too, kid.” Toshinori watched him until the door of his house closed behind his back, then he drove off.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku #izuku midoriya #All Might #Toshinori Yagi

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years

Text

Hi Charity! Three main questions/points:

1. I notice that a lot of submissions these days are something along the lines of, “Here’s this highly specific description of me or someone in my life; is it x type?” Is this fun for you to answer? imagine it’d be a lot of work to read through them all sometimes.

The more specific something is, the louder it screams out a type, so I prefer specific to vague, generalizing, or just "I can't decide between X or Y, what's the difference?" I need something to work off of, otherwise it's a waste of my time to repeat generalizations.

2. I’ve been close to only a few ESTJs and no ENTJs, so while I could envision what ETJs are like (generally as either fabulous River Song types or stereotypical “CEO” types) I didn’t really have much real-world interaction with them. Then I started dating an ENTJ! [...] Inferior Fi doesn’t really look like how I expected it to. [...] is it possible for an ETJ, especially a healthy one, to not struggle much with their emotions or figuring out how they feel?

ETJ emotions are somewhat uncomplicated. Either they care, or they don't; their emotions don't affect their judgment except on rare occasions. They aren't sure how to emotionally connect, and may substitute gestures for emotional intimacy (they will assume one way to build a good relationship with a child is to take them places, not that Junior needs to feel heard and understood emotionally). They will either deal with their emotions as they arise, or ignore them. It matters very little to them to figure out 'how' they feel -- either they feel it or they don't. They don't need to understand it, it just directs their actions, sets their moral standards, and impacts the decisions they make. Healthy ETJs are usually pleasant, enjoyable people, they are just focused way more on efficiency and getting things done than on 'being' emotional.

3. I recently met this dude through a shared interest (“mock Survivor”, like the reality show) and I want to get to know him better (no romantic overtures though). [...] How can I try to get to know him better? Any invitation to hang out I compose in my head just sounds weirdly deliberate and overly personal but something super casual sounds like… too casual for the amount of time we’ve known each other. [...] Fwiw, I currently believe myself to be an INFJ 3w4 so/sp, and him to be an ENFJ 3w2 so/sp. He has so many friends and so much charisma it’s insane, which partly makes me wonder if he’d even care about connecting with me if his social circle is so saturated. But also I’m like, “He’d have no reason to turn down someone else to hang out with?” But one-on-one stuff seems like it’d be kind of awkward without a reason. I don’t know.

Overall question again I guess: How do I reconnect with this guy without making it weird, because I think about it way more often than is reasonable and I feel like the longer I wait the weirder it’ll get.

Just do it. The longer you wait, the more awkward it will be. If he is an ENFJ, the odds are he won't say no and you may reconnect. If he reconnects and then doesn't maintain the connection, you will know it's not a high priority for him and this friendship isn't going to work. But if you don't ask him, you'll always wonder what might have happened, if you did. Keep it friendly but casual. Contact him and say, "I really enjoyed getting to know you when you were on this thing with me, and I miss our conversations now that you're not. Would you like to (have coffee, chat online, text, etc) together sometime, just as friends?" I'd suggest something that lets you talk, and then ask him lots of questions about his shared interests and offer up the things you like and details about your life in return -- EFJs love to learn about you, since it helps them know how to adjust to you.

#question #mbti

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tiptapricot · 3 years

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I’m very surprised u haven’t done David/Michael hcs yet :0 👀 pls tip gimme ur wisdom 🙏🏼

Ohohoho yes ofc

I think their relationship starts off just as an inherent attraction, no other feelings of any kind besides maybe a mild dislike

Well maybe more than mild...

They’re always bickering and arguing and trying to get at each other

For David it’s fun, flirting and arguing to piss Michael off, but Michael just thinks he’s annoying

There’s some other feeling there too besides annoyance, but Michael just thinks it’s anger at how David is still able to look cool and collected even when he’s being a dick

(It’s actually that he thinks he’s hot, but he doesn’t know that)

Mentions of drinking, smoking, and parental issues under cut, reaaally vaguely implied sexual content

Eventually David actually gains a legitimate interest in Michael beyond just messing with him for Max, and the flirting shifts from soley confrontational to more teasing and curious

It’s still just sexual in nature when it comes to his attraction and end goals, but that’s all David really expects and is aiming for anyway

Michael’s a good looking guy, they all think so. He’s kind of dense, but he’d still be fun to play around with

The dynamic between them stays the same for awhile, though Michael stops being as ticked off at David’s ribbing as he used to be, and life is good

Hanging out with David and the boys helps Michael take his mind off the stresses in his life

It gives him somewhere to have fun and not have to think too hard about anything, where stuff is simple and narrowed down and easy

It’s an escape

He supposes that’s why he starts opening up to them more as time goes on, about those same worries and pressures

He’s never been the best at articulating his feelings, but something about being out with the guys makes it easy, like he loses his emotional filter

Their loud reassurances that it’s all bullshit and that he shouldn’t worry about any of it are nice too, and getting drunk and stoned every night probably helps as well

So life is good, Michael has friends and a distraction, and David is being introduced to the very peculiar problem of actually starting to care about him

It’s something he notices kind of suddenly, one time when Michael is talking about his dad

They’re around a bonfire on the beach, working slowly through a few packs of beer, and when Michael cracks a joke about overhearing his parents arguing when he was younger, David feels a twinge of something more painful over their link

It gives him pause, his brows knitting together, bottle stalled halfway to his lips, and he realizes in that moment that what Michael feels actually matters to him

What he wants matters to him

What he enjoys and hates matters to him

Michael matters to him

It settles in his chest like a strange new weight, and he decides it’s best to keep it there

His feelings still aren’t romantic right away, the flirting continues and so does the teasing and jokes and so on, there’s just that added depth to things now that David’s trying to understand

The other boys tease him about it, but he brushes them off

David and Michael get a few nights with just each other here and there, when the other boys want to do something more violent for the night or do a fly around and Michael can’t be there for it

They mainly talk and walk around town when that happens

David talks about the history of the place and they share a joint or something stronger, and every time, every single time, David finds himself saying stuff he hasn’t really verbalized before

Maybe it’s something about knowing that Michael gets it, in a way, the responsibilities, the expectations, the want to get away from it all but knowing you can’t, that makes it easier

David never lets himself get too deep into things (or too specific with the details), but there’s still something there that’s more vulnerable than he likes to think about, something about Michael that wears him down

This is around when Michael realizes he cares about David

He still thinks he’s a dick, but they have a lot in common, and he’s surprisingly comfortable to be around

Plus when they’re just with each other... well Michael isn’t really sure what it is, but he likes it

Things build in the following weeks, rougher in places and smoother in others

David’s feelings slot firmly into place and he gets more reckless as a result. Michael comes to him with questions one night, and they’re alone in the cave, and he’s not sure how to answer, and so it only makes sense to kiss him

Michael melts under David’s touch when he does, confused and pliable and wanting, and the rest is so fast and so easy

But then Michael finds out he’s a vampire, catches David and the boys coming back from a feeding, and David has to quell the following freak out and give an explanation before things get out of hand. He manages to, but the ensuing argument brings more to light than he wanted

Max’s plan comes tumbling down all at once, things fall apart and plans are made, and when the smoke clears the boys are free, and the Emerson house is covered in soot

The aftermath is complicated and simple at the same time

They talk, and David explains, and Michael listens, and it’s gentler than things have ever been between them, unfamiliar and new

The kissing is nice. The kissing is very nice

After that it feels natural

The bickering is the same, the teasing and insulting compliments and nitpicking like they’ve been together for decades

Michael puts up blackout curtains so that David can stay over, and once he finally gets a job is usually home around the time David’s just starting to peek out from under the covers as the sun sets, hair mussed up and eyes bleary

The boys think they’re disgusting, there’s way too much casual contact and little gestures of intimacy (Michael looking over David’s shoulder with a hand on his waist as he helps Lucy with dinner, leaning against each other on the couch, cheek kisses followed by a trail of cigarette smoke when they’re down by the boardwalk, truly sickening stuff)

Sam also thinks they’re disgusting, but that’s just because he’s caught them making out one too many times

They’re never a super domestic couple in the usual sense, in that they don’t get an apartment together or want to get married and start a family or anything, but they’re domestic in their own way

They go with Sam and the Frogs to concerts and movies, David is comfortable going without his jacket in the Emerson house, and they have a lot of small, whispered exchanges about very ordinary things, like what the instructions mean while assembling furniture, or which person from the pier has been the biggest asshole over the last week

Michael helps David style and rebleach his hair and David keeps a couple hair ties on him in case they’re out and Michael needs one

When they go on dates it’s usually not to the movies or a restaurant, they’ll just pick up food and ride around town or up to the bluffs where they can vibe together

It’s good, and it’s healthy

They like just laying in bed together a lot, Michael is warm and the closeness is easy

Michael’s always having to remind David that he’s worthy of having this, that he deserves love and affection and intimacy, and David is grateful for that, and grateful for everything else about Michael too

Headcanons masterpost

#woof this was longer than I meant but hey!#them!#the fruit is answering again #the fruit is talking again #tlb #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #michael emerson #david the lost boys #the lost boys david #the fruit is headcanoning again

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standingonborderline · 3 years

Text

We have philosophy and theft

rating: teen and up audiences

shipps: janus + patton (moceit)

word count: ~12.2k

summary: Soulmates share the same birthday. That is a fact. The hard part is finding the one who really is your match among so many others. Patton has never met anyone who has the same birthday as him, and when Virgil mentions that he knows someone, Patton insists that he set up a date. Except that things take a turn and crimes are commited.

warnings: there is a scene where a dog is locked inside a hot car but he turns out fine ok, i promise

author’s note: this is a general content submission for @moceit-appreciation-week . i originally wrote this in my native language, brazillian portuguese (that if you happen to know you can read it here) and then i translated it and made some adaptations, so... i don’t know, just keep that in mind

[Read it on AO3]

"When is your birthday again?'' Virgil asked calmly, raising his gaze from the computer screen before him. He was sloppy sitting on the padded bench near the cafeteria wall. Above him, hanging on a brick wall, was a huge blackboard displaying a weekly menu written in chalk.

"On the first day." Patton answered, leaning over the square table positioned between him and his friend. He placed his head in one hand, holding the cappuccino glass with the other near him.

"May?''

''Yeah.''

Virgil turned to the computer screen, and Patton could hear the press of keys amid the buzz of the other customers.

"Why is that?''

"So I can write it down." He clarified, and in front of him, there was a huge monthly calendar filled with all the things he needed to do and what was the deadline to accomplish them. Virgil struggled to keep his life organized as much as possible. He was also ignoring the fact that the day was April 13, which meant that the month had begun two weeks ago. The small floating arrow sailed to the bottom of the screen, and he selected the day in question, marked with a letter ''S'' above it. "It's on a Saturday.''

Patton sighed, staring at the marks of deterioration on the wooden table on which they were.

''Yes, it is.''

Virgil turned to him again, raising his head and watching him beneath the purple locks of hair. He stretched his fingers above the keyboard, causing the black nail polish to camouflage between the keys.

"What?"

''I'm going to be twenty-nine, and I haven't met my soulmate yet!" Patton was pitiful. He opened his arms cautiously on the table, lying on it and avoiding reaching the glass that was near him and his friend's computer.

Virgil sighed briefly. Every year the same thing happened, and by that time, he already had a mental list of arguments to offer Patton.

"Well... You know... sometimes people have to try more than once." He shrugged. "Everyone thinks that as soon as they meet someone who has a birthday on the same day they will be perfect. It's a great way to delude yourself. Like it's fate or something." He smiled ironically.

''Yes, I know, but I've never MET anyone who has a birthday on the same day as me!'' Patton stretched both hands, next to Virgil's computer, leaning his chin on the table. ''It's complicated.''

Virgil rolled his eyes and lowered the notebook screen, watching Patton and his honey-colored curls. He knew this was something that bothered Patton, though he couldn't say the same about himself. His expression turned into a grimace, and he lifted the computer screen again, placing it between him and Patton so that it would prevent eye contact.

"I may... know someone who has a birthday on the same day as you."

''What?" Patton rose from the surface immediately, unable to see Virgil's face due to the grayish plaque in front of him. ''Virgil?"

''Um?''

''Who is it?'' He rose from the seat, leaning part of his body over the table, and positioning his face above the screen. He pressed his fingertips next to the camera of the device.

"Who's what?'' Virgil asked, staring at the calendar to avoid Patton's supplicant gaze.

"The person you know who has a birthday on the same day as me.'' Patton clarified, and fought against his instincts that resembled that of a feline wanting attention: were it not for Virgil's fingers on the keyboard, he would have already closed the computer that created an obstacle between them. "I'm down for anyone. You know that."

''Yes, I know, it's not that, it's... is that... You know what, never mind, you're not going to like him." He spoke, denying with his head.

"No, I want to know!" Patton insisted. "Please?"

''Oh, it's just... he's kind of...'' Virgil began, seeking a justification, and finally looked at Patton, who kept all his concentration on him. I don't know, I don't trust him.''

"Why not?" Patton frowned delicately.

''I don't know. It's just... a feeling, I guess.''

''Okay... what do you know about him?"

''That he is a lawyer and that his name is Janus."

''Oh, cool!'' Patton leaned his head on the back of his hands, above the computer monitor. "What else?"

''That's all, actually."

''That's all?''

''Yeah. I told you, I don't trust him. Besides, I think he hides stuff.''

''What kind of stuff?''

Virgil grumbled, gesturing vaguely, and tried:

"About himself?''

Patton contemplated briefly and then shrugged.

"Maybe he's only reserved. Like you.''

Virgil made a face and returned his concentration to the computer.

"So... Are you going to give me his number?"

''Patton... "

''Please?" He smiled, and quickly added, "I'm the one who has to like him, not you. Pretty please?''

Virgil and Patton stared at each other and Virgil remembered why he wanted to avoid eye contact. No one could say no to Patton with bright brown eyes and wavy hair as adorable as a puppy asking for your food. Finally, he gave in.

"Ugh, all right. I'll talk to him. I'll see what I can do.''

''Yay!" Patton clapped his hands. "Thank you!''

''Of course. Whatever.''

With the online calendar still open in front of him, Virgil added a note to remember talking to Janus about the situation.

Outside the Museum of the Classical Age was a large, wide staircase made of whitish marble. At both ends, above the steps, were the handrails leading to the museum's small entrance platform. In the center of it, a third handrail was installed, standing out due to its contrast in relation to the rest of the façade. It had a smaller thickness, being made of iron in black color, and was used much more often by visitors of the daily.

Patton used the first of the steps as a seat, next to the entrance door and next to the left handrail. The shadow of the architecture spread to the pavement ahead, partially taking the path to the staircase and the outdoor parking lot, distributed on the sides of the entrance. The sun shone fervently, but that did not prevent the low temperature or the icy breeze that accompanied it. People would come in and leave the establishment, and Patton was waiting for a face that wasn't familiar to him. The high sound of a tire caught his eye, and he — like other visitors outside — turned to the right, in time to watch the driver of a red pickup truck suddenly stop, too close to a man crossing the parking lot. Immediately, the driver threw several offensive words at the man, who stopped where he was and stared at him for a moment, before walking again and heading to the museum's staircases. With this, the focus of the others also dispersed. Patton followed the man with his gaze as he approached and climbed the steps quickly. The print on his clothing became a blur, being possible to identify only the figure of two wavy things crossed one over the other. He went into the museum, while the driver had been lost sight of, and the situation that had barely begun had already been finished.

Patton waited a few more seconds, preventing his thoughts from focusing on the movement outside that dramatically diminished, and on how no one had addressed him. Hearing a delicate tinkling, he exuded, picking up the cell phone that had the screen facing down in his lap.

''date janus!!'' it read as the contact name at the top of the screen. It was from two minutes ago, at 11:12 am.

''I'm here'', one of the messages said.

''I believe in a section just about the coliseum,'' said another message then.

Below these two, there was an attached photo that appeared to have been taken at a certain distance. It showed the end of a corridor that contained a passage to another room ahead, wider. The walls were of a clear beige tone, and instead of works referring to the time, they were decorated with documents extended and protected by glass. On the sides of the entrance to the next room were two chandeliers, each lifting a small transparent lamp. And among them... there was a woman who spoke and over-gesticulated, actions easy to detect due to the smudges that her face and arms had become. In front of her and with her back to the camera, was a group of teenage students, occupying fully the entrance. On the right, near one of the chandeliers, was a second woman who was also partially with her back to the camera.

Patton stretched his legs, rising from the smooth marble surface and turned around. With a few steps, he walked through the huge double door that was completely extended to the inside, as if with open arms awaiting the visitors.

To the left of the lobby was a large circular reception. From where he was, Patton could see at least three different employees serving people. He thought about joining them and the small line that formed — which he would do on other occasions — but this would probably take several minutes. He analyzed the rest of the environment, the gaze floating over other individuals who walked around the room, the most distant velvety benches leaning against the wall, the huge staircase that stood both to the left and to the right, by the large arches that indicated the entrance to other corridors near where he was. Uncertain, he crossed the room toward the corridor on the right, and came across the same beige walls with chandeliers and the class of students who occupied the passage. However, there did not seem to be anyone else present besides those who were previously in the photo. Patton glanced at his cell phone, which remained with the same three messages, and turned distractedly to look around.

"Boo!" In front of him, a man arose, leaning toward him.

Patton jumped back, giving a sharp scream and taking both hands to his chest reflexively.

The man laughed, and Patton did the same, embarrassed.

''I'm sorry." He said by mere formality, in a drawn tone of voice.

''Of course." Patton sighed, relaxing his shoulders and straightening his jacket with one hand, while the other held the phone. He laughed one more time. "Very... sneaky, aren't you?''

''Yes.'' The man agreed, and he analyzed the boy in front of him from head to toe.

The first thing to be noted in Patton was the huge colored jacket he wore. The colors of the piece alternated between red, blue, green and yellow, and its fabric was soft and comfortable, preventing the wind from passing through it. Underneath it, he wore a white shirt that contained two bottoms above the right side of the collarbone, both of which were composed of colored stripes. One of them had a pink stripe followed by a yellow and a blue one. The other, a little further down, had a black stripe followed by a gray, a white and a purple one. The shirt bar was placed inside the high-waisted style jeans, in a shade of grayish blue. He wore yellow all-star sneakers that covered his ankles, but even so, the man was almost certain that he wore different socks. One of Patton's hands still held one side of the jacket tightly, and he noticed his nails painted in different colors: dark blue, light blue, purple, and black. The hand that held the phone was partially hidden for him, so that it was only possible to see the fingernail of the thumb painted red.

He had brown eyes, protected by the glass and aluminum skeleton that was his rounded glasses and long eyelashes. Beside the nose, the upper part of the cheeks was decorated with small brown dots scattered horizontally. His skin was clear, his lips pink, and on his face fell wavy locks in a shade of faded brown. Apparently, the numerous decorative fruit hair clips were not enough to contain them in place.

The man blinked repeatedly, his face inexpressible. Patton seemed to have come straight from a children's show in which he was the host and had chosen his own costume, resulting, surprisingly, in a beautiful outfit being worn by an even more beautiful person. Lovely, perhaps, was the most appropriate word. ''Cute'' would also work.

But instead of saying any of these things, he remained silent, until finally asking:

"It's Patton, right?"

''Oh... Yes, it is." Patton gulped and held out his hand to him, looking at the other man before him.

His skin was clear, but not as much as his. This was obvious when one noticed the spots on the right side of his face, whose tone was closer to pink than beige. Above them, his hair was partially shaved on the side, and the dark brown locks were reserving on the left side, long enough to reach the length of the cheeks. At the height of the neck, it was possible to see the white collar of a shirt, hidden by the black sweater he wore on top. His hands were involved by the pockets of black pants with pleats, and he wore brown combat boots.

"Janus." He said, shaking Patton's hand and revealing the yellow glove he used.

Patton alternated glances between the three things that most intrigued him in the person in front of him: the eyes, the stains on his face and the gloves. Before he could decide which one to ask first, another detail stood out for looking familiar to him, and he meticulously observed the pattern of two dark green snakes crossing one over the other in Janus' sweater.

"Hey, weren't you in the parking lot earlier?"

''What?" He asked, slightly confused, before remembering. "Oh, yes, I was. I love the experience of almost getting hit first thing in the morning." He mocked, and Patton noticed it was the same lazy tone of voice he had used to apologize moments before.

"Yeah... there are people who get very angry in traffic anyway." Patton changed the subject and stood beside Janus, only to discover that he was reasonably short compared to the other man. In front of them, the student class was gone. ''Shall we?''

That said, the two walked down the rest of the corridor and entered the next room.

By the next thirty minutes, Patton had already made two puns about them being in a museum.

He maybe got confused during a third attempt that resulted in comparing Janus to a work of art. Maybe.

Either way, Janus tried his best to hide his laughter and apparent redness on his face. He failed miserably in both.

Janus had the impression that Patton was looking too much at him, specifically at his face. He decided to clarify that the spots on the right side were the main symptom of a skin disease called vitiligo.

Patton said he had freckles on his face, though this was evident.

Janus mentioned having a pet snake named Ophelia. Patton assumed he was joking. Two factors made him realize that he was not: Janus' expression and tone of voice remained the same throughout the conversation, and Patton's suspicion that he had a forked tongue.

Not that he was looking at Janus' mouth or anything.

Patton was a high school philosophy teacher.

He liked plants. He talked about the collection of succulents that stood on the window sill of his room, and their names: Angela, Ashley, Audrey, Alice, Amelia, Aurora, and a few others. The latter was in reference to the Disney princess.

Janus was pretty sure he'd mentioned an Ariel too.

Janus liked the Marvel movies.

Patton preferred DC movies. His favorite was Shazam.

They talked about how Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne were alike.

Patton told about how his students appeared with the so-called new ''memes'' every week, and that he didn't quite understand how they worked. This did not prevent him from using them the wrong way through his attempts. Sometimes these same students spent most of their class with their heads down, and Patton knew they were having a bad day. So he didn't bother them.

Janus told of the questionable things his colleagues in the legal field did. Among them, having love affairs with clients who were in divorce proceedings, and obtaining evidence by illegal means. He wouldn't admit it, but it was fun to be able to tell these things to someone who wasn't part of the business —and who therefore couldn't use them against someone he knew. Patton seemed shocked by the reports, but also interested.

An hour and a half later, the number of people visiting the historic facility decreased considerably as most went out to eat.

Patton stopped in the lobby, away from the doors. He had taken off his colorful jacket and now held it over his forearms, gathered near his body. He turned to Janus, not far from him. "There's a diner down the street." He remarked, drawing the attention of the other young man who looked up at him. "Do you want to go eat? We can get there by foot.''

''Yes." He said without thinking. But who could say no to Patton? Patton who had his nails painted in different colors, Patton who had chosen an outfit that seemed to have come out of an eighties themed movie, Patton who had named his plants, Patton who laughed at the very puns he made at any opportunity, Patton who cared for the wellbeing of his students, although it was not his responsibility. Patton.

He was so sweet. So lovely. Optimistic. Polite. That wouldn't work. Janus had to make something about that. He just didn't know what yet.

They went down the street, heading for the establishment. The silver clouds hid the sun, and the winds remained sharp enough to cause chills. They walked side by side, most of the time in silence, and Patton pointed to some birds that were landed on the electric wire across the street. They arrived at the site and outside the gravel floor formed an outdoor parking lot, similar to what the museum also had. Further away from the entrance, Janus noticed a red pickup truck, too much like the one he had seen earlier when he arrived at the museum. Ahead of him, Patton entered and held the door for him, and the two took slow steps as they entered the venue, searching for an empty table amid the crowd of customers. Quietly, they went to the service desk to place their orders, infiltrating amid the lines that were mixing due to being side by side. Patton raised his arm to fix the sleeve of his shirt, but in doing so, he accidentally hit someone next to him who was coming in the opposite direction.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He spoke immediately, gathering his arm close to him and placing his hand on his opposite shoulder.

''Yeah, yeah, whatever." The man in the plaid shirt grumbled. Getting as close as he could to the service desk, he sneaked through the thick line. Still, he wasn't far from the couple. "Lady! Hey, lady!''

Patton took a step to the left, approaching Janus who now stared at the intruder with his eyes half-closed.

The man began to call out for the attendant at the counter a little further from him, saying something about having received the wrong order. The attendant politely asked him to go to the end of the line, but the same could not be said of the other people around who were waiting to place their orders. Unidentified voices were startled in the buzz, complaining about the man and also asking — demanding — that he go to the end of the line. The man ignored the claims, insisting that he was paying for an order he had not made, while the attendant reiterated that they had delivered exactly what he had requested. Janus and Patton watched the situation unfold attentively.

Looking at the man, Janus recognized him as the same one he had seen earlier, the same driver of the truck who had almost run him over in the morning. And with that, he had an idea.

"I can make a new order for you. " He volunteered, and the man finally turned to him, analyzing him from head to toe.

"Aren't you that guy who was at the museum?''

Janus blinked repeatedly, giving a fake smile.

"I was... Oh, my God, you were the guy in the pickup truck, weren't you? I'm so sorry, I wasn't seeing where I was going!" He explained, taking one hand to his chest dramatically.

Patton looked at the two, confused, but paying more attention to janus' tone of voice, which had suddenly changed. It was completely different from the dragged tone he had used during the time they were in the museum, as if he were an actor playing a role.

"Yeah... you should pay more attention anyway."

''Oh, I will for sure, sir...?'' Janus asked, offering his hand to him.

''John." He greeted.

"Is that short for Jonathan?''

''No. Just John. And you're...?"

''Oh... I'm...'' Janus kept his forced smile, and looked away. Through the big window in the back, on the other side of the room, you could see the street outside. A large bus stopped at a traffic light, the ad on the side displaying Louis Vuitton's new fall-winter collection. Quickly, he added: ''Louis."

''Um. " John made a grimace and examined him again. ''Such a cocky name, huh?''

Janus' smile was slowly becoming terrifying.

"What's wrong with your order?" He asked, changing the subject, and felt Patton gently pulling the sleeve of his sweater.

"I had ordered a large burger and a medium Coke, and they gave me the opposite.'' John offered the receipt to Janus, who checked it superficially.

''Do you know what? I'll make this order for you again, and then it's all settled. You don't have to pay anything else.

"Um. Alright." John agreed with the same angry expression that Janus had seen all day, and walked away, ending the conflict in line.

Janus watched as he disappeared into the crowd, and his fake smile turned into an expression of repulsion. He disguised it before turning to Patton, who called him:

"What are you doing?" He had furrowed eyebrows, looking between Janus and the path John had taken before he disappeared. "Your name's not Louis."

''Well... Maybe he's just having a bad day." Janus shrugged, turning his eyes. "Maybe he just needs... a good deed.''

Patton made a grimace, uncomfortable, and the two moved forward as the line progressed.

"I didn't like him. He almost ran you over."

''Pff, don't worry.'' Janus guided, gesticulating vaguely. "We're not going to be in his company for long anyway.''

Arriving at the service desk, Janus only made John's order. Patton barely paid attention to his, ordering quickly. Leaving the line with the orders, the two met the man at a table. Janus and Patton sat side by side, while John stood at the opposite end. When he began to eat, his manners towards the two changed, and he magically became more polite. He began to chatter, for the most part, complaining about his work that neither Patton nor Janus had paid enough attention to know what it was. Janus stayed as far away from the table as possible, strategically holding one of the menus raised in front of him. Patton ate only half of his order, looking out the window most of the time. About half an hour passed with Janus presenting a friendly personality.

"Well, the chat is fine, but if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.'' John informed as he rested his hands on the table and stood up.

"Oh, is it?" Janus looked up at him, as did Patton. "Don't you want to leave your stuff here? I'll take care of it.''

John frowned and looked at Janus and Patton.

"My stuff?''

"Yes," Janus shrugged. "It's going to be quick anyways.''

John hesitated, but gave in. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he left his wallet, cell phone and car keys on the table. Janus glanced at the belongings.

"Five minutes." John said, moving away from the table.

"Five minutes." Janus echoed, following him with his gaze.

John went to the back of the diner and walked through a door, disappearing from view.

Janus turned to the table and, with one hand, took the cell phone and keys. With the other one, he held Patton's.

''Let's go.'' Janus stood up quickly from the table, taking with him a Patton who intertwined his own legs due to the rush.

"What?! Where?!

''Let's go!'' Janus insisted as they passed through the cafeteria's front door, practically running.

They crossed part of the parking lot until they stopped near a red pickup truck. Up close, it was brighter, cleaner. Janus placed the keys into the lock and turned them, unlocking the car with a muffled sound. He opened the door and walked in, and Patton, on the passenger side, did the same without thinking. With the two inside the car and with their respective doors closed, Janus put the key in the ignition and turned on the car, immediately backing up and leaving the cafeteria parking lot. In a matter of seconds, the establishment was left behind.

The road followed mostly straight, with both Janus and Patton silent. As they stopped at a traffic light, Janus turned to Patton, who analyzed the inside of the car. He could practically see the gears spinning on his head as he absorbed what had just happened. Janus put on his seat belt, and they started walking again. Patton blinked repeatedly, lowering his head.

''Janus?'

''Um?''

''Did you stole a car?'' Patton asked slowly, turning to the man next to him.

''Huh... it's not stealing, actually. Robbery committed without violence is theft.'' He glanced at Patton, and he looked both angry and confused.

''This is no time for word games!'' Patton protested, and fixed his glasses in place. ''Stealing is a crime!''

Janus rolled his eyes.

''Yes, I know.''

''Then why did you do it?''

''Why not do it?'' Janus asked, smiling.

Patton stammered.

''Because it's wrong!''

''Well, 'John' kinda deserved it.'' He sneered, throwing the man's cell phone on the dashboard in front of Patton.

''What? No!''

''We both saw how he almost ran me over. Honestly, we are doing society a favor by taking this car away from him. Who knows who else he might hit?''

''No! This isn't - we shouldn't - he - you can't just go around stealing people's stuff!''

''I just did.'' Janus shrugged, and glared at Patton. ''Put on your seat belt.''

Patton huffed and did as requested, frustrated. He wanted to protest, to get out of the car. But of the many thoughts swirling around in his mind, none of them could turn into a coherent verbal sentence. And the car was moving, and he had just put on his seat belt. Janus' reassurance that he had just committed a crime did not improve the feeling he had of anger and shock. Janus smiled, opening the window on his side, realizing how his plan to push Patton away was working. Patton crossed his arms, turning his attention to his window.

''I don't like this.'' He grumbled, and Janus didn't answer.

A few minutes passed, and they continued their journey in silence, as Janus pondered where they were going now.

Slowly, Patton turned to the center of the car and took a closer look. Next to the steering wheel was a small glass display accompanied by several buttons and a few square holes below. He blinked repeatedly, bringing his hand to one of the round buttons. He carefully turned it and a low noise sounded.

''There's a radio.'' He pointed distractedly.

Janus alternated glances between the road and Patton who was playing with the buttons on the device. Patton turned one of them, and a man began to talk about how the city government used the money it received from the citizens. He turned the same knob one more time. A female voice sang a song that, from the instruments, seemed to be from the 1950s. He switched to another button, and a host announced that the guest about to give an interview was a female singer he had never heard of. He did this with the other three buttons, until the stations ended and the radio returned to its initial silence. Patton held up a long white cable that was plugged into one of the radio's inputs near the buttons. It had electrical tape on the end that was loose. Patton leaned back in his seat again, holding the cable close to him.

''I wonder if it's supposed to connect to the cell phone.''

''You can try it if you like.'' Janus said, not caring much.

With some difficulty Patton took his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans and plugged in the long cable. Immediately, the small squared-shaped radio display showed the words "music library". Patton glided his fingers across the screen, searching for something. He gently touched the surface with his index finger, and seconds later the sounds of a drum and a guitar began to sound from the radio. Janus frowned as another guitar solo followed and a man began to sing.

Life's like the road that you travel on,

when there's one day here and the next day gone

Sometimes you bend and sometimes you stand

sometimes you turn your back to the wind

He looked at the radio display, which named the song as 'Life is a Highway' by Rascal Flatts. Next to him, Patton began to do what he deduced was a dance from the unusual movements. A few more seconds passed, and more and more of the music seemed familiar, until Janus ventured to ask:

''Isn't that the music from Cars? The Disney movie?''

''Yes, it is!''

''Oh, my goodness.'' Janus rolled his eyes and then turned his attention back to the road.

''Do you like it?'' Patton asked, smiling broadly and leaning back in his seat.

''Not exactly. But it doesn't bother me either.''

''It's pretty good!'' Patton said, doing random dance steps, as far as his belt would allow.

Janus sighed, choosing to let Patton have some fun.

The song ended, and before it could start again, Patton picked up his cell phone and selected a different one. It started with a soft piano and a female voice singing, until the rhythm changed drastically, becoming more agile.

''What is that?''

''Holding Out For a Hero!'' Patton replied, smiling.

''But that's not Bonnie Tyler's voice.'' Janus pointed out.

''Oh, no, it's Shrek's version.'' Patton explained, looking at his cell phone and at Janus.

''Oh...''

Patton watched Janus as he exhibited no reaction to the music. Instead, he kept his attention on the cars passing in front of him, trying to join them. When the song ended, Patton selected a different song. And another. And another. And another. And in none of them did Janus show any interest. Nor did Janus mention the fact that they were all part of the soundtrack, themes, or created specifically for film or television animation work. At one point, Patton sank down on the bench he was on, his knees pressed against each other.

''What kind of music do you like?'' He asked, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and with anticipation, since it was a topic that had not been discussed during their date at the museum.

Janus turned towards him and watched Patton with his cell phone on one leg, still connected to the car radio.

''Oh, you're not going to like it.''

''Oh, c'mon, I wanna know!'' Patton insisted, and bowing his head he muttered: ''I didn't like that you stole a car either, but we're here.''

Janus sighed, and as they approached a traffic light, he held out his hand toward Patton, who handed him his cell phone. He tapped the screen a few times, and without saying anything, handed the phone back to Patton as the melody started to play and the car started moving again.

The music started with a piano and violin, and soon a woman's voice began to sound, singing lazily. Patton glanced at the radio display, which read "Black Hole Sun" by Haley Reinhart. The drive went on, with the music being the only noise between them, and Patton turned his attention to the man next to him.

The sun swayed distantly behind him as they passed different buildings and residences. The open window gave way to a strong breeze, which made the long strands of his brown hair frame his well-defined face. He kept only one hand wrapped tightly around the black leather steering wheel, while his left elbow rested above the window sill and the white sleeves of his shirt swung gently in the wind. The elastic band ran across his chest, sinking down and camouflaging itself to the black sweater, cutting through the snake print. He had a look of serenity, fixed on the road ahead. He was not bothered by the fact that he had stolen a car, Patton noticed. Not only that, but he was confident. And that was enough to create a charm. Patton mentally listed the things he knew Janus was, for sure, by now. Lawyer. Thief. Charming. He smiled softly, and Janus turned to him, somewhat embarrassed to catch Patton studying him.

''What?'' he asked, frowning.

''You have one eye of each color.'' Patton pointed calmly.

He really did. Patton had already noticed that Janus had different eyes when they were at the museum, but he couldn't say specifically how. Now he had found out: one of them was brown, while the other was green.

''Oh... yes, I do.'' Janus touched his hair, making a failed attempt to get it out of his face. ''It's called heterochromia. It's the only hetero thing about me.''

Patton's smile widened twice as much, and he leaned toward Janus.

''You made a pun.'' he said, holding back his happiness.

''What? No, I didn't.'' Janus staggered, alternating his attention between the road and Patton beside him.

''Yes, you did.''

''No, I didn't.''

''Yes, you did!'' Patton started to laugh, grabbing Janus' arm with both hands and squeezing gently.

Oh, no, Janus thought, watching Patton with wide eyes. He had made a mistake.

Patton kept laughing for the next five minutes, and slowly calmed down. When he stopped completely, he was leaning against the window beside him, which remained closed. He sniffled, taking a deep breath as he pulled himself together and some random song played at a low volume on the radio. There was a brief silence. Suddenly something caught both boys' attention: from the cell phone lying on the dashboard of the car, which previously belonged to John, came an alarm. Except that it was no ordinary alarm clock alarm, whose purpose was to wake people up, but the sound was more like radar. Patton reached out and grabbed the device, and with it closer, the two of them could see the blinking red dot in the center of the screen. Around it, circular waves were forming, and at the top of the screen, there was the phrase ''Find my phone''.

''Oh my God! Oh my God, it's tracking us! Now what?'' Patton asked, looking around frantically for a solution.

''Give it to me.'' Janus asked, switching hands on the steering wheel and extending one of them to Patton. He handed him the cell phone and Janus glanced at the screen.

''Dammit. I thought it would take him longer to do something about it.'' He spoke before tossing the device out the open window without hesitation.

In shock, Patton looked at Janus and the outside of the car, which had turned into a straight deserted road. He gulped.

''You threw the phone out of the window.''

''I did. Problem solved.'' He smiled sarcastically, looking at Patton. Patton sighed and leaned back in his seat.

''Right.''

The drive went on without any major problems.

About fifteen minutes later, Patton turned to Janus after spending most of the time looking out the window.

''Are we going somewhere?''

Janus stammered, being taken aback.

''Why?''

''Because... there is a mall nearby.'' Patton said, pressing his index finger against the glass of the window.

''You want to go to the mall?''

''Oh... yes.''

''With a stolen car?''

''But-it's just-there's-'' Patton sighed. ''I planned on doing more after the date, I didn't know it was going to last all day. And I didn't know you were going to steal a car!''

Janus looked at Patton and outside the window behind him. Not far away was a large building that was expanding horizontally.

''Fine, whatever.'' Janus turned his attention back to the road and turned on the right turn signal.

As they drove out of the parking lot, inside the building, and towards the stores, Patton told that he had gardening as a hobby — something that Janus had already noticed when he mentioned all the succulent plants that had names beginning with A. He wanted to plant a vegetable garden, but didn't know much about how to do that yet. And for that, he would need the proper tools and clothes. The first place they went was a clothing store. Once there, they eventually drifted off as Patton looked for something specific and Janus just didn't care to keep up.

He wandered distractedly around the store, looking at the clothes on display. There was a wall filled only with women's suits, starting with neutral colors of gray and dark blue. Then a red one appeared. A pink one. After that followed several that had their lapels and pockets printed for some reason. On the other side of the store, a large table displayed themed shirts with Star Wars character prints. Next to it was a second table that was almost identical, but this one contained Harry Potter themed clothes. A long rack had colorful bomber jackets, alternating between one color until it got to the jeans jackets with kitten prints and pieces of pizza on the back. Hanging high above it was a section of long trench coats in solid colors. Most were beige or gray, and investigating to the back of the rack, Janus came across a yellow one. Not a neon, vibrant, strong yellow, but a more subdued, darker, a shade of ''mustard yellow,'' as some palettes named it, considering that the color was closer to brown. Stretching out his arm, he removed the hanger and examined the overcoat. Its fabric was dense, warm, and it had small strips to be buttoned on each sleeve. At waist height there was also a long belt in the same color, which was tied at the back with a bow. He pulled it over his forearm and walked back through the store to a section that contained several long-sleeved blouses. Some had a high collar, others had zippers on the back. Apart from these details, they didn't vary much. He looked through the pieces, and finally decided on a light gray one with a turtleneck. He held both the jacket and the blouse together, stretching them out in front of him, observing how they would look together.

''Boo!'' said a voice behind him, at the same time as a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and immediately released them.

Janus hissed, making a sort of high-pitched animal-like sound, and gathered his arms closer to himself. Beside him, Patton appeared, laughing with one hand in front of his mouth and holding clothes with the other arm.

''What was that? It sounded like...'' Patton sniffled, catching his breath. ''One of those little snakes! With a rattle!''

''Oh, it's you.'' Janus sighed and rolled his eyes, ignoring Patton's comment and the fact that he felt his cheeks warming up.

''That was payback for the museum.'' Patton said, and crossed his arms over his chest. ''Listen, I'm going to try on these clothes, so...''

They looked at each other in silence.

''...You're staying here, right? In the store?''

''No, Patton, I'm strategically waiting that you're busy so that I can run off and leave you alone like I did with a stranger in the diner.'' Janus spoke ironically, and in silence, Patton watched him with big eyes, worthy of a Japanese animation. ''I'm not leaving without you, okay? If that's what you want to know.''

Janus looked at the small set of clothes he had in hand and at Patton beside him, before stretching out his arm and offering them to him.

''Try these on too.''

Slowly, Patton took both pieces and examined them.

''Why?''

''Just try them on.'' Janus shrugged.

''Okay...'' Patton added them to the clothes he already had with him. ''But then I'll choose an outfit for you too!''

''What? No.'' He grimaced.

''Yes! It'll be fun, come on!''

''We're not going to play dress-up.''

''Why not?''

''Because!''

''You picked out a little outfit for me.''

Janus grumbled, stuffing both hands in his pockets.

''Fine.''

''Yay! Come on, come on!'' Patton jumped up and down and gestured for the young man to follow him. Grudgingly, Janus did so.

The two of them walked through the different sections of the store, as Patton analyzed the most diverse items. A light green shirt with buttons down the front and a pineapple print caught his eye, but after one more look at Janus, he returned it to the rack. It was so easy to find something Patton liked; as long as it looked colorful or fun it was more than enough. He also resisted the temptation to pick up a salmon colored t-shirt, whose right side pocket had a flamingo design, so that it looked like the animal was stored in the small compartment.

''Oh, what do you like to do?'' Patton asked suddenly.

''What do you mean?'' Janus frowned, intrigued.

''Sort of like a hobby. I like gardening," he exemplified what he had said before. ''What's your hobby?''

''Oh... uh...''

Patton stopped by another booth where long-sleeved shirts were spread out.

''I play the piano.'' Janus finally answered. Not that it wasn't true, but it was more of a... half-truth.

''Really?'' Patton turned to him, smiling and holding one of the shirts from the exhibit close to him.

''Yes, really.''

Yes, he could play the piano. And yes, in terms of personal interests, he was busier producing an outfit identical to that of Marvel's Doctor Stephen Strange. His fingers had seen more needle points than piano keys in recent years, but that was not relevant.

''Oh, that's so cool! I kind of started to learn how to play the ukulele, but...''

''...But?'' -He arched one eyebrow.

''I don't know, I'm not very good at it. I guess it's just lack of practice.'' Patton remarked as he watched a mannequin a little taller than he, wearing a scarf and unfurl the cloth from around his neck.

Janus squinted his eyes and made a mental note of the fact.

They walked around the store for a few more minutes until Patton chose a hat. He held up three of the pieces he had with him and held them out to Janus.

''There! Oh, we can play catwalk too!''

''No, no... no...'' Janus shook his head, holding the clothes that Patton had handed him, and the two of them headed for the fitting rooms. ''No, we'll see about that after we've tried them on, okay?''

''Okay!'' Patton agreed, and, getting out in front of them, took the first fitting room he saw with the door open, closing it behind him.

Janus stopped where he was and sighed, coming to the conclusion that living with Patton was like living with a child. He didn't know exactly what opinion to form of this, but he chose to put the thought aside and walked into one of the fitting rooms.

A few minutes passed before Janus heard Patton coming out of his fitting room, sounding surprised. Wearing the clothes Patton had chosen for him, he opened the door and stepped out of the booth. With his back to him, Patton stood in front of a large mirror that took up the wall at the end of the fitting room aisle. His new light gray turtleneck blouse was tucked into his jeans, and over that, he wore a large dark yellow trench coat, the length of which extended just below the knee. The pants left a small part of his legs showing, so that the yellow all-star sneakers that went down to his ankles drew attention.

''I look like someone...'' Patton thought to himself, moving from side to side and letting the bar of his jacket swing. With a jump, he turned to Janus behind him. ''The tenth Doctor! From Doctor Who!''

Janus looked him up and down, and the only similarities to the character in question were the coat and the sneakers. Even though part of the outfit had been chosen by someone else, Patton still looked like the host of a children's show.

Patton also looked at him, bringing both hands to his chest, below the collarbone.

''You look so pretty! And stylish!''

Janus didn't answer, and instead crossed his arms, cutting off eye contact. His clothes still had dark shades. Like Patton, he was still wearing the same pants and shoes that he had chosen for the date at the museum — a black pair of pleated pants and brown boots - and like Patton, he had also tucked the dark gray long-sleeved shirt into his pants. The difference was that Janus had two extra accessories: a plaid scarf, in beige and black, and a black straight-brimmed hat, large enough to partially cover his face. Janus hoped that it was doing its job, and he put it on, pretending that his face was not getting a blush.

Excitedly, Patton stood next to him, and then the two of them were standing facing the mirror, where the critical difference in height was noticeable.

''It's such a serious outfit... but I like it!'' Patton spoke up, with both hands in his jacket pockets. ''Why did you choose this?''

''I thought it was something you could wear to class.''

''Oh!'' Patton wiggled again, smiling. ''I hadn't even thought of that, but it's a good idea.''

Patton turned to him.

''How about you? Do you like your outfit?''

''No, it's hideous.'' Janus answered lazily, rolling his eyes.

''Oh, really?'' Fearful, Patton leaned back, analyzing his choices. ''I thought it was nice... I tried to pick something that would go with you. I can try again if you like.''

Next to him, Patton looked genuinely upset, and a wave of panic rose in his throat.

''It was irony.'' Janus clarified. ''I liked it.''

''You liked it?'' Patton asked again, and he nodded. ''Yay! I'm going to go change, and then we can go, okay?''

''Sure.'' Janus agreed as Patton returned to the fitting room.

But when Patton left the booth for the last time, wearing his normal clothes — the ones he had chosen for the date at the museum — Janus was still wearing the clothes he had chosen. He was leaning close to the door of his fitting room, now open, looking distractedly at the yellow gloves he was wearing. Patton stopped next to him, in silence, until he asked:

''Aren't you going to change your clothes?''

''Oh, no, not really.'' Janus said, picking up the shirt and sweater he had been wearing. Before Patton could say anything, he added while smiling charmingly: ''Shall we?''

Patton frowned, but agreed, and they walked back to the store. Janus was further ahead, while Patton looked for the cashier, and he almost bumped into Janus when he stopped abruptly.

''Excuse me, sir," a young man started to say, approaching Janus and looking at him. He wore a badge hanging around his neck. ''Are these the clothes from the store?''

Janus turned his face slowly in the opposite direction. Next to him was a stand of sunglasses, and he looked at them closely.

''Look, sir, it is against store policy to wear the clothes outside the fitting room without paying first.''

Silently, Patton looked between Janus and the store employee. Janus took a pair of white, black and gray sunglasses, whose lenses prevented others from seeing his eyes, and put them on.

''I'm going to need you to go back to the fitting room and change, otherwise it will be characterized as theft, and I'll have to call security.'' The boy explained calmly, and Patton's eyes widened.

Janus wove the plaid scarf around his neck and adjusted his hat, so that it hid the part of his face that was closest to the employee.

''Is that so?'' Janus asked, with a heavy foreign accent.

''Yes.'' The boy confirmed, holding both hands in front of his body.

Janus grumbled, turning his attention back to the sunglasses stand.

''If I had known that I would be treated like this I wouldn't even have come here. But please, call security.''

The employee blinked repeatedly and leaned toward Janus.

''Excuse me?''

''It's just that where I come from it is very normal for customers to wear the clothes they are going to buy while they are in the store.'' Janus continued sarcastically and with his accent. ''I personally think it is absurd to be called a thief when I have done nothing wrong!''

Behind him, Patton was starting to make faces due to his confusion. From the stand, Janus picked up a pair of sunglasses whose lenses were blue hearts, and offered them to Patton.

''Try this one on, honey, it suits you.''

Hesitantly, Patton took the glasses and held them out in front of him.

''You’re still violating store policy.'' The employee repeated.

''Are you really going to call security on me?''

''I'm sorry, and you would be...?''

''Alfred Hitchcoppolucas," Janus announced, sliding his index finger and thumb along the brim of his hat. ''Director of Psycho Godfather Wars.''

In shock, Patton approached Janus and the clerk.

''Excuse me...'' He started to say, but Janus purposely put himself between him and the other boy.

''Please, do call security. So this could end up in a lawsuit against your store, it will be so much fun!'' Janus, Alfred said, gesturing and smiling exaggeratedly, pretending.

''Oh... oh.'' The employee was flabbergasted and started stammering, trying to fix the situation. ''No, no, that won't be necessary, sir. I am so sorry for the inconvenience, actually, you know what? You don't have to pay for anything. I'll turn off the alarms in the store, so you can go, okay?''

Patton watched as the scene unfolded before him, and of all the absurd things to question, he wondered if Alfred Hitchcoppolucas was a real person.

''Oh, really?'' Alfred asked with a strong accent and a drawling tone of voice.

''Yes, really. I'm very serious.'' The employee started to walk away, almost tripping over his own feet. ''I'll do it now, okay?'' He said, and with that, disappeared from sight.

Immediately, Janus broke off his fake smile and turned to Patton. With one hand he lowered his sunglasses minimally, looking Patton over them.

''You were saying?''

For the second time that day, Patton had more than one thought swirling around in his head, and there was a certain difficulty in turning them into comprehensible sentences.

''Who is Alfred Hitchcoppolucas?''

''A director.''

''No, no, you're not Alfred something, you're Janus...'' Patton interrupted himself when he realized that he didn't know his last name. ''Why did you lie to him?''

Janus shrugged and smiled.

''Because I can.''

''No! No, you can't just go around tricking people!''

''Why not?''

''Because it's wrong!'' Patton justified, and at the same time Janus repeated the exact same thing, but as if it were a question in a debauched tone.

''Think through the bright side,'' One by one, Janus removed the paper labels from the pieces he was using. ''You're saving money.''

With a few steps, he stepped aside and picked up two ecobags that were displayed on a low hanger. He put the tags and his original clothes in one of them, and offered the other to Patton.

''Shall we go?''

Hesitant and a little upset, Patton held up the bag and put all the products he was holding into it. He considered heading to the cashier and paying for them anyway, but before he could find his location in the place, Janus started walking again, heading toward the store doors. Patton followed him a reasonable distance, and as they walked through the silent detectors, Patton updated the list he had in mind.

Lawyer.

Thief.

Charming.

Liar.

And despite the questionable attributes, his indecision about what opinion to form of Janus remained haunting him.

Hours later, they left the mall, and the sun had given way to the moon and the stars that kept it company.

The outside was cold enough to give it goose bumps, and as they made their way to the pickup truck, Patton gripped the ends of his windbreaker jacket, ready to zip it up. But before he could do that, something else caught his eye. He stopped where he was, noticing how on the other side of the outdoor parking lot, a little way off, there was an enclosed car with a large dog inside. He stood there for a few seconds, watching the scene and walked hurriedly towards the car, not even noticing that Janus was walking steps ahead of him.

''... And that is why carrots are the worst vegetables.'' He concluded a monologue, and immediately looked both ways, noticing Patton's absence. Janus spun around in time to see him walking away toward an unfamiliar car. ''Patton?''

The young man continued walking.

''Patton!'' he called, and walked quickly in the same direction.

''Hi.'' Patton greeted the animal in as calm a voice as he could while resting his hands against the closed windows of the car. The dog inside, a golden retriever, turned to him, panting and blinking. ''Are you stuck in there?''

Patton touched different places on the car door, as if it would magically open for him. He reached for the handle and pulled, but nothing happened. It was locked. Of course it was locked.

Janus caught up with him and stopped beside him.

''What are you doing?'' he asked exasperated.

''There's a dog in here.'' Patton said, turning briefly to him, his eyebrows raised together. ''He's hot.''

Janus looked over to the side of the car, seeing the dog sitting in the back seats.

''And?''

''We have to get him out of here!'' Patton again touched random parts of the door. ''But there's no way, it's locked!''

Patton considered his options. He could try to go back to the mall and find the owner of the car — and the dog. But how could he do this? The person could be anywhere, in any store. What if it was an employee? He could have been working by now. There was no personal information on the outside of the car, and trying to find the owner by blindly searching for him could take hours.

Janus frowned and looked at Patton and the golden retriever inside, his pink tongue falling out of his mouth.

''It's not our dog,'' He thought about saying, which meant it wasn't their problem. But neither was the red pickup truck parked a short distance away, and that hadn't stopped him.

Besides, Patton remained with the same expression of sadness and concern on his face, touching the car door.

Janus bowed his head and thought about what they had. The keys to the pickup truck. Cell phones. Eyeglasses. A hat. Some gardening tools, small but firm, just like the car keys. A jacket. An overcoat, long and dense. Belts. Sneakers... Sneakers. His gaze hovered over Patton's pair of all-star sneakers at ankle height, the yellow glowing against the darkness of the concrete floor at night.

''Take off the shoelace.''

''What?'' Patton turned to him, confused.

''Take off your shoelace.'' Janus ordered, raising his head and looking at him.

Patton hesitated briefly before leaning against the car door, bending forward and raising one of his legs to chest height. After a few seconds of struggling, he pulled out the long line and held it out in front of Janus.

''Keep an eye out for anyone coming.'' He said casually, taking the shoelace.

''What do you mean?'' Patton muttered, standing on tiptoe and looking around, not knowing exactly how to warn him if anyone approached.

Janus glanced down at Patton's feet, interlacing the shoelace, noticing how one of his socks was green, and the other, red.

The thread now had a small knot with an opening in the center, which could be closed by pulling on one side. He slipped the shoelace through the doorway, and luckily the rubber didn't stop it. The dog, noticing the narrow line above him, raised his long nose and sniffed it briefly, not caring about it. Janus crouched down, facing the door and moving his arms carefully as he lowered the wire. Standing next to him, Patton alternated glances between what Janus was doing — which Patton didn't understand anyways — and his surroundings, nervously. He couldn't see any people outside, but entering the parking lot, a car sped up the path behind them, and Patton's eyes widened.

''A car just drove by.''

''Was it a police car?''

''No.''

''Then it doesn't matter.''

Janus kept his gaze fixed on the inside of the car. The dog sniffed the shoelace once more as it hovered over the door latch pin between them. He closed the knot around the latch tightly and pulled both ends up, causing the small latch to lift.

The door was open.

He exhaled and stood, and Patton smiled at him, hopefully. Janus pulled the handle and the door opened, and immediately, the golden retriever jumped out of the car, but he couldn't get very far: strapped to the headrest of the seat, a leash held him down. Janus leaned forward, looking for the clasp on the dog's collar, but before he could find it, Patton moved in front of him and rested one knee on the car seat.

''Patton!''

''Wait!'' He brought both hands to the piece of steel supporting the headrest. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust to the pitch inside the vehicle, and meanwhile he was digging his nails into the leash, pulling it in different directions. Eventually, it began to loosen, and written in blue on the red fabric was a name: Steve.

With the leash in one hand, Patton got out of the car and took a few steps back. Once he had moved far away enough, Janus took the shoelace and lowered the pin again, closing the door and locking it. The two, now three, crossed the parking lot quickly, avoiding running. They opened the back of the truck, and with a few finger snaps above the compartment, the dog jumped in. Now almost at his height and with better lighting, Patton noticed that the collar around his neck also had the colors blue and red. Its pendant consisted of circles in those colors with the addition of white, and in the center, there was the silhouette of a dog's paw.

Steve, he thought. Blue, red and white. The yellowish fur. Steve in reference to Steve Rogers. Captain America.

They turned around, getting into the cab of the car, and with the same agility they had left the diner hours earlier, they were now leaving the parking lot behind.

Janus drove in silence, without a destination in mind.

Patton bowed his head, looking at his white shirt that now contained gray stains that he didn't know how he had gotten.

The drive went on for a few minutes, until, looking out the window, Patton recognized the road they were passing by.

''There's a bridge up ahead.'' he pointed out. ''We could stop and let Steve drink some water.''

Janus frowned, glancing at the back of the car.

''Steve?''

Patton nodded.

''It's on his leash.''

They arrived at the mostly deserted spot. Janus stopped the pickup truck above the bridge, and Patton was the first to get out, pushing his sneakers against the cold, polished stone floor. He went to the back of the car, opening the cargo bed and letting the dog out. With the leash in hand, they went around the bridge and down a small slope beside the architectural support that consisted of sand and brush, approaching the river of running water below. Steve immediately went towards the water and, as expected, began to drink. Patton let go of his leash and sat down on the ground, putting the laces back on his sneakers, listening to the engine of the truck still running.

The wind echoed in his ears, and he regretted not having zipped up his jacket when he first thought of it. The bridge, as well as its edges, were lit only by the weak grayish light of the moon above them. In the navy blue sky, tiny dots flickered and a few clouds were lurking. Patton watched the surrounding flora, high enough to be at his knee height, and hoped that no animals would appear. Most people would worry about snakes in an environment like this, maybe frogs because it was near water, but Patton's biggest concern was spiders. To his right, at a higher level, the rocky bridge cast a shadow over him.

The roar of the engine stopped and footsteps approached.

''Partners in crime?'' he asked in a drawling tone of voice.

Patton let out a sharp cry and turned back, seeing Janus standing a little above him, arms crossed. He stood erect, and his plaid scarf swayed gently in the wind, which in the poor lighting made him look more like a mysterious silhouette than a human being.

''What?''

''Partners in crime. '' He repeated and shrugged. ''You stole a dog.''

''I didn't steal a dog.'' Patton defended himself, standing up and brushing the sand out of his pants. ''I just... took it for a walk.''

''Without asking the owner or even knowing him?'' Janus squinted his eyes.

''I just...'' he stammered. ''Yes!''

''No, you stole a dog.''

''You stole a dog!''

''I stole a car, that's different.'' Janus waved one hand. ''It was your idea.''

''You opened the car.''

''Okay, we did it together, whatever. It's still a crime just the same.''

''No, it was for a good reason! He was in the heat, I just wanted to get him out of there!'' Patton slurred his words, pointing at Steve behind him.

''I never said it wasn't for a good reason. That's not my point.'' Janus looked at Patton and smiled briefly. ''We're alike. Isn't that what you wanted?''

Patton looked at him and remembered the two questionable attributes that were on his mental list of things he knew for sure about Janus. Thief. Liar.

''No, we're not. We have nothing in common!''

''Wrong. We have philosophy and theft.'' Janus went down the small sand hill, stopping in front of Patton.

''No, only bad people steal!''

Janus brought one hand to his chest, pretending to be offended.

''Patton! What about the people who live on the street and steal to survive?''

He opened his mouth, ready to retort, but no words came. After a moment, he resumed, denying with his head:

''No. No, that's not what I meant. No, that's enough.'' Patton moved his arms from side to side in front of him. ''We'll come back, we'll return the dog, and we'll return the car, okay?''

''Oh, please...'' Janus started, but Patton turned his back on him, approaching the riverbank and stopping near Steve.

Patton's idea of going back and returning the collected belongings without permission was ridiculous, to say the least. Especially considering that they had managed to leave the situations behind without major consequences. There was no point in denying the obvious — that crimes had been committed — and Janus didn't really understand why Patton insisted on doing that. With his eyes half-closed, he watched Patton and thought. Patton also insisted on the statement that stealing made you a bad person; committing crimes made you a bad person. Janus knew that things were not that easy, as black and white. And it suddenly occurred to him that maybe Patton didn't know that.

The icy evening wind ruffled their ears and crickets began to echo around them, and Janus let the room be filled with the sounds of nature as he thought.

''Would you agree with Jean-Jacques Rousseau when he said that man is good and society corrupts him?'' He asked, pronouncing the words slowly and clearly.

Patton looked at him over his shoulder.

''I don't know. Maybe?''

After a moment, he continued:

''And would you agree with Thomas Hobbes when he said that man is essentially evil?''

''Would you?'' Patton asked him, his worried look gradually softening.

Janus took a few steps and stopped beside Patton, staring at Steve as he drank the water.

''No, not with either of them.'' Janus turned to him, his colorful eyes in a state of serenity. ''Psychology, philosophy, anthropology, all these fields have the human being and its existence as their focus of study. Ever since we existed, we have been trying to find the answers to these same questions. Are we good? Are we bad? Why are we here? And these areas are still relevant today because we don't have a yes or no answer. Because after centuries of investigation, we have come to the conclusion that humanity is complex. It is to be expected that these questions will have complicated answers, if such answers ever exist. No one is inherently good or bad entirely, Patton. You can steal and still be a good person. It just depends on how you see yourself.''

Patton nodded, muttering something incomprehensible. Quickly, Janus continued:

''But you know... if you really want to know if you're a ''bad'' person...'' Janus offered his hand to him, the yellow glove standing out in the darkness. ''We can find out together.''

Silently, Patton smiled softly and took Janus's hand.

On the floor, Steve turned toward them. He shook himself, causing water splashing from his beard to hit the two men next to him. Janus protested, complaining, but Patton didn't much care.

''Can we go now?''

Patton leaned forward, taking Steve's leash, and the trio returned to the bridge and the car above them.

''What is the next stop?'' Patton asked.

''I don't know," Janus shrugged. ''Do you want me to drive you home?''

''I'd like to, but...'' Patton glanced at the back of the car. Behind Janus, Steve's mouth was open and the wind was against his golden hair. ''I'm not sure how I'm going to get in with a dog that size.''

Of course, getting home was not exactly the problem. The problem would be how to justify to the neighbors why he had an adult golden retriever with him, in case someone saw him.

Janus remained silent, searching for a solution. Patton picked up his cell phone, pressed his fingers against the screen a few times, and moments later, announced:

''There is a hotel nearby that accepts dogs. The Sandman Inn.''

''Yes, but do they accept large dogs?''

Patton swiped at the cell phone screen.

''Yes, they do. It's not too far away.''

Janus agreed, ready to follow the GPS directions, when Patton grabbed his arm.

''Wait!''

''What?''

''There's a supermarket here!'' Patton pointed, and across the street, a large sign with its lights on indicated the store was open. ''Let's stop here. It's gonna be just a minute.''

''What for?'' Janus asked, already turning the car around.

''To buy things!'' Patton simply said. When they pulled into the parking lot, Patton got out of the car, but Janus didn't move. ''Aren't you coming?''

''No. You can go.''

''Okay.'' Patton agreed and quickly drove away, approaching the doors that opened automatically for him.

Patton took a basket from the stack next to the door, and walked through the aisles occupied only by merchandise. The cleaning products section was the closest, and he walked through an aisle that contained fabric softeners and clothes nails.

Lawyer. Thief. Charming. Liar, it echoed through his mind, and Patton wondered what answer he would provide when Virgil asked him if he liked Janus.

He turned right, now passing through a corridor that contained brooms and insecticides.

Technically, their date had been extended for the rest of the day. Technically.

Patton glanced at the products in other aisles as he walked in front of them. Pasta. Canned goods and seasonings. Dairy products. Frozen foods.

Would he want a second date? Assuming they didn't get caught for the thefts, of course.

Patton entered an aisle of children's birthday party supplies.

But as Janus himself had said, not all people who did things that were considered bad were really bad. The case of the homeless people was a good example.

He took a card with colored candles and put it in the basket.

This line of reasoning would work for Janus as well as for him.

Patton took a few steps forward and picked up plastic plates and cutlery, adding them to the basket so that they would keep the candles company.

So... it was all relative, really. Janus had kind of explained that too.

Patton returned to the frozen food aisle. He ignored the large transparent doors that displayed ice cream of the most diverse brands and flavors. He stopped in front of a large booth displaying ready-made cakes, and chose one whose frosting consisted of granules and cherries, and placed it in the basket.

There was a decision to be made.

When Patton came out of the supermarket with a shopping bag in his hand, Janus was leaning outside the car, petting Steve.

''Ready?''

''Ready. We're good to go.'' Patton confirmed, smiling.

Once again, they returned to the cab of the truck and went on their way.

The Sandman Inn was open twenty-four hours a day.

It was a clean and quiet place, and the carpeting in the lobby was red and gold.

They checked in, and the employee handed them the key to Room 9E, with two beds.

Janus and Patton stepped into the elevator. Steve's leash in one hand, the keys to pickup the truck in the other, the shopping ecobags on their shoulders, and the grocery bag in the other hand.

Arriving in the bedroom, they left both bags with clothes on the bed. Janus removed Steve's leash, and Steve began sniffing around the room. Patton approached a small table that was in front of the beds and put his bag on top of it, removing the groceries one by one. He removed the plastic cover from the cake and placed it in the center of the table, opening the carton of colorful candles.

''Can you turn off the light?'' he asked, and a little hesitantly, Janus did so. Outside, the grayish moon produced a faint beam of light that invaded the room through the window, preventing them from being completely in the dark.

Patton sat down in one of the chairs, and Janus removed his hat and joined him on the other side. Steve also joined them, lying down at Patton's feet.

At the cashier, Patton had picked up a box of matches at the last minute. He had spread four of the colorful candles on the edge closest to Janus, and was now lighting them.

''So,'' Janus began, with a terrible posture in his seat. Strands of his dark brown hair fell over one of his eyes. ''I suppose we'll be saying goodbye to each other in the morning?''

Patton smiled quietly, placing the rest of the candles at the end closest to him.

''No, I don't think so.''

Janus squinted his eyes. He leaned forward and, with one breath, blew out the candles that were lit. Immediately, Patton began to light the ones he had positioned last.

''I'm down for a second date, actually.'' He explained, his gaze focused on the wax and the fire. ''I think there's more about you that I don't know.''

''I do cosplay, if that's what you want to know.'' Janus looked away, crossing one leg over the other.

Patton stopped where he was and laughed, making a mental note to return to this subject later.

''It was you who suggested that we find out if we are bad people together.'' he said, finishing lighting the candles.

They both stared at each other for a brief moment, before Janus asked, in his usual lazy tone:

''I'm stuck with you now, aren't I?''

Patton propped both elbows horizontally on the table. He looked at his cell phone beside him, and the 11:59 on the lock screen turned into 00:00, accompanied by the date May 1.

It was midnight.

It was his birthday.

It was their birthday.

''Happy birthday, Janus.''

Janus lifted the corners of his mouth minimally, just enough to go unnoticed.

''Happy birthday, Patton.''

And Patton blew out the candles, leaving them in the dark.

#paulie's posts #moceitappreciationweek #moceit #sanders sides #ts janus #ts patton

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stovetuna · 4 years

Text

This is for @bardingbeedle who yelled at me in the tags and then on messenger and ultimately inspired me to write some “lorge soft steve” and tbh who am I to refuse. (also high-key inspired by this masterpiece of fanart I RBed [again] earlier today)

(takes place shortly after the events of Avengers Assemble episode 2x07, aka the best fic none of us ever wrote)

(heed the READ MORE!)

***

Tony is hustling from one meeting to the next, all but literally running into the kitchen for a cup of afternoon coffee, when he spies Steve Rogers bent over the communal living room coffee table. That in and of itself isn’t exactly outside the realm of normal Steve Rogers activities—the man does love a good brood, even if he won’t admit it and doesn’t do it as often as he used to.

But Tony wracks his brain for possible reasons why Steve would be hunched up around the shoulders like he’s expecting a body blow any minute and keeps coming up empty. Not even fresh coffee makes his synapses fire faster. Did they forget his birthday? Impossible. Did someone send Captain America hate mail? Uh, doubly impossible, especially because Tony’s got lawyers screening their mail for that kind of stuff (they’ve got more than enough pressure in their day-to-day lives, time-slip dinosaurs and age regressions notwithstanding).

Maybe Steve found a piece of upsetting news, or some fact of modern history that isn’t sitting well with him? That’s a lot more likely.

Before he can remind himself that Pepper’s waiting in his office to put him on a call with the president of MIT—something about a commencement speech, if memory serves—Tony is sauntering into the living room, nonchalant, tongue already prickling with some smart remark. He’s got it all written out in his head like a perfect line of code up until the moment he’s standing in front of Steve and sees the expression on his face.

“Whoa, who ran over your puppy?”

Tony winces, wishing for the millionth time that his mouth and his brain could work together simultaneously, but no. Worse, Steve doesn’t even answer him—he just frowns harder, if that’s even possible, and folds in on himself like his shoulders alone don’t take up half the length of the massive couch. Tony lowers the hand holding his coffee and blinks.

“Steve?”

“Oh!” Steve jumps upright, and quick as a flash moves something vaguely folder-shaped behind his back. “Tony! I didn’t hear you walk in—don’t you have a meeting right now?”

Something in Tony’s chest squeezes at the sight of that smile and at Steve’s impeccable attention to detail. But really, ever since the incident with the Time Stone, when he’d jolted back into his adult body and come to in Steve’s arms, he’s felt completely knocked off-balance. Now everything about Steve Rogers—the man, not the superhero—is a revelation. Every smile, every word, every look has Tony tripping over his own feet, tongue, thoughts. He may be back in his adult body, but he’s never felt more like a prepubescent teenager with a crush, fidgeting in place under Steve’s gaze.

“It got postponed,” he lies, because whatever has put that pinch between Steve’s eyebrows is way more important right now. “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” Steve replies, too loud and too quickly. Tony gives him a look. Steve flushes, shrinking in on himself even further, like he wants the couch to devour him. “Uh, nothing important. Just an anniversary I forgot about.”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to frown. He likes to think he’s got a solid mental calendar of important dates for all of his teammates memorized at this point—Natasha’s move-in, Bruce’s lab incident, Sam’s SHIELD acceptance, Steve being found in the ice—but none of those are today.

“Got room for one more?” Tony asks, nodding at the scant space next to Steve on the couch when the man gives him a questioning look. Steve’s cheeks immediately go a charming shade of pink, which churns the coffee in Tony’s empty stomach with a vengeance. Steve shifts to press himself against the arm as Tony moves to sit down next to him, almost crushing the folder Steve had hidden earlier in the process. There’s a gasp, and a lightning-quick hand, and then Steve, pale and breathless, is holding a manila folder against his chest like it’s the secret to the Super Soldier Serum.

It’s weird—Tony knows Steve trusts him, and vice versa. They wouldn’t have solved the riddle of the Time Stone if they didn’t trust each other. So to sit next to Steve, who’s gone from morose to terrified in the three minutes since Tony walked into the room and feel a wall between them is jarring. And upsetting. He’s only been nursing this crush for a few days, and Steve’s not that perceptive…is he? Maybe he is. Maybe this is Steve weeding out Tony’s feelings before they’ve even had a chance to grow.

Tony shakes his head at the thought. No, Steve’s a lot of things, but cruel isn’t one of them.

“Care to share with the class?” he asks, gently so he doesn’t spook Steve. It seems to work: Steve relaxes, tension falling from his shoulders as he eases into Tony’s presence. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, but keeps the folder pressed securely against his sternum. Tony tries hard not to steal a glance at the way Steve’s shirt pulls across his broad, thick chest as he breathes.

“It’s nothing.”

“Cap, if it was nothing, you wouldn’t be trying to Honey-I-Shrunk-Myself into the couch right now.”

Steve Rogers in active wear doesn’t cut quite the same figure as Steve Rogers in full Captain America regalia, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s small. Like this, he’s just as large and has just as much presence as he does in uniform; it’s just…more human. Less Captain, more Steve. Both are devastating in their own way, but only Steve—friendly, blushing, awkward, unassuming Steve—makes Tony acutely aware of the distance between their bodies, down to the last electrified hair.

Catching his own breath, Tony puts his full mug on the coffee table and drops his hands into his lap, turning his head to watch Steve chew on whatever words are fighting to come out. Be patient, he tells himself. Whatever this is, Steve’s struggling with it, and Tony can have some tact when he wants to.

Finally, Steve closes his eyes and sighs. When he lowers his hands, the folder goes with them. Tony glances at the cover and almost swallows his tongue.

“Is that—?” Steve makes a noncommittal sound, like a ‘yes’ but softer, uncertain, like he’s not sure Tony’s reaction is a good one. Tony swallows his excitement with a wince. “Is that the Project Rebirth file? I told Fury to give it to you a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure he did.”

Tony is so preoccupied looking at the folder he doesn’t hear Steve’s gasp or notice his eyes lock onto him. “He did,” Steve replies quietly after a pause. “But that’s isn’t…that’s not what this is about.”

That’s kind of a surprise. The sudden appearance of the Project Rebirth file would explain Steve’s face and body language, but if it’s not that…

Steve hands the entire folder over to Tony without another word.

“Uh,” Tony gapes, too awestruck to achieve any kind of higher brain function.

“Look at the date,” Steve says. It’s not an order, just a gentle request, but it doesn’t prevent a shiver from rippling down the length of Tony’s spine. If he was hyperaware of the space between their bodies before, it’s even worse now with Steve leaning every-so-slightly toward him and reaching out a hand to point directly at the date written on the faded label.

22 June 1943

Tony blinks. “It’s the anniversary…of you?” He opens the folder without a second thought, and the first thing he sees is a picture of Steve. There are other things in the file—sheaves of what look like medical reports, heavily redacted memos, and carbon copies of typed letters—but the only thing Tony can focus on is Steven Grant Rogers circa 1943. The Steven Grant Rogers of before.

He’s touching the photo before he can stop himself, being so, so careful as he traces the narrow shape of the man in the photograph while the real, supersized thing sits next to him.

“It’s the first time I’ve really had a chance to sit and think about what it was like, before,” Steve says, unprompted. “Everything happened so fast once I got the serum, I didn’t have time to just…take it all in. And then I went into the ice and—well. You know the rest.”

All skin and bones, this man, back then. But the jut of his jaw is the same; the serum didn’t change that, or the flinty stubbornness in Steve’s eyes, or the proud set of his shoulders, just daring the world to try and fuck with him. Tony smiles—Steve before the serum is like a matchstick, short and thin and always one spark away from bursting into flame. He really didn’t change a bit.

When Tony finally looks up from the photo (not gazing, of course not), he sees Steve’s expression has gone pinched again, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

“Alright, there’s that face again. Out with it, Cap.”

Steve really shouldn’t bite his lip—it’s bad for Tony’s health. But Tony’s comment does get him to smile a little bit, which is good. “I guess…it’s been over seventy years since I got the serum, but most days I still feel like that skinny guy in the picture.” Tony watches him as he speaks, taking in the faraway look in Steve’s eyes, the shrinking posture, the downward turn of his mouth—who says I can’t be observant, Tony thinks—and wishes he and Steve were the kind of friends who hugged outside of catastrophic cosmic events. God knows it looks like Steve could use one, as wound up and tense as he is right now.

“I’ve broken so many things by accident because I keep forgetting I’m this, now,” he says, gesturing broadly at himself with one hand. Frowning, Steve uses that same hand to brace his forehead, elbow dropping down onto his thigh. The man is the picture of misery, and Tony aches to comfort him. It’s a physical pull in the pit of his stomach, urgent and needy—like if he doesn’t get his arms around Steve Rogers right this second, something important inside him is going to malfunction.

Tony shoves his hands under his thighs and nods. “Dr. Erskine could turn you into a super soldier,” he says softly, “but he couldn’t erase the first 27 years of your life.” He doesn’t speak his next thought aloud—that if there was in fact a way to erase those years, Tony would have signed up for the very first clinical trial. It’s a grim thought, and not something Steve needs to hear right now, but it’s been on Tony’s mind ever since his brief return to adolescence, and it’s a hard one to shake.

But what Steve heard seems to help. He peeks at Tony through his fingers and swallows loud enough even Tony can hear it.

“Yeah,” he rasps, “something like that.”

“What else?”

“What?”

“What else is bugging you? About this?”

Steve lowers his hand and stares at Tony. Stares. It’s such a feeling, being stared at by Steve Rogers, Tony can feel the heat climbing up from underneath his t-shirt. Even the arc reactor feels a bit warmer in his chest.

“How could you tell?”

“You’re still doing your level-best impression of a Shrinky Dink, Cap,” Tony replies. “Kind of hard not to notice.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Steve laughs, a hoarse, dry sound, “but you’re not wrong. I guess…I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words.”

“Try.”

Seriously, when Steve looks at him like that—like he did when Tony soared through the air as Iron Kid, all awe and pride and warmth—Tony feels capable of anything. Anything. He’d bottle that feeling, if he could, just like he’d bottle the color of Steve’s hair in the afternoon light coming in through the living room windows right now, all warm, pale yellows shot through with gold. If the photo in the file were in full color, Tony would bet his fortune Steve’s hair would be the same shade it is now.

Because Steve Rogers has always been perfect. Damn him.

“I still feel small,” Steve says, and any thoughts of hair and perfection derail abruptly. Looking into the middle-distance past his nose, he continues, “I don’t fit in this body. That doesn’t make sense, but—it’s like the super soldier is a mold, and I’m just there rattling around inside it, too small to fit. Does that—does that make any sense?” He looks at Tony imploringly, begging him with his eyes to understand. Tony feels that tug again, worse now, to wrap his arms around Steve and hold him tight. Call it returning the favor for the other day with the Time Stone, call it acting on his crush, whatever.

No one so large has ever looked as small as Steve Rogers does right now.

“It does,” Tony croaks.

“Really?”

“Really. I mean, how do you think I feel inside the suit?”

Steve makes a sound at that—not a whimper, not a gasp, but something hovering between the two that splits Tony’s heart right down the middle. “I never thought of it that way,” he whispers. “But that’s it. That’s exactly it.” Visible relief fills Steve’s lungs and makes his entire body go lax, leaning closer to Tony in the process. Tony, of course, is hyperaware of Steve’s size—everyone except Thor and Hulk is small compared to him—but now he’s equally aware of who’s operating the Cap-suit, so to speak.

“The only difference is, I can take my super-suit off,” Tony says, pinching the underside of his own thigh to cut off a laugh—Steve hasn’t seen The Incredibles yet—and continues, “you can’t. That’s bound to make a guy feel uncomfortable, even you, Mr. ‘I can handle anything you throw at me.’” He elbows Steve a little, good-naturedly, for emphasis, and gets a full, beautiful smile for his efforts.

God. Skinny or huge, Steve Rogers is gorgeous. It really shouldn’t be allowed.

“Yeah, good point.” Face still split by a smile—I put that there, Tony preens—Steve leans against the back of the couch and sighs. “There are things I miss, though. About being small. I didn’t think I did, until…” He glances at Tony, then, and there’s no missing the blush creeping up his neck.

“Until?”

“The other day,” Steve replies. “When you de-aged, and I—when we—” Tony bites his tongue so hard he’s pretty sure he tastes blood. Don’t interrupt. Let him get it out. Steve laughs breathily. “When I hugged you, I was so glad I was in a position to protect you, physically, like that. But later on I kept thinking about how much I miss being the protected one, sometimes. Not always, but. Sometimes.” Steve looks at the photo and sighs. “I keep thinking about what it felt like when ma looked after me when I was sick, or when Bucky put himself between me and the bigger guy because he knew I couldn’t take another hit…sure I resented it a little, being so weak, but I liked…that.”

“You liked being cared for.”

The look Steve levels at Tony could drive away a storm.

“Yeah,” he husks. “I did.”

“And now that you’re—” Tony waves a hand at Steve’s everything, “—this, you think you don’t, what, deserve care?”

“Maybe?” Steve blinks. “I don’t know.”

“Cap—Steve,” Tony says, putting his hands palms-up in his lap so Steve can see all of him. No threat, no judgment. “Everyone wants to feel cared for. It’s human nature. And just because you’re superhuman doesn’t mean you’re inhuman.”

Damn if those therapy sessions Pepper forced him into aren’t paying off big time right now. If the sheen in Steve’s eyes is anything to go by, Tony’s hit the nail right on the head.

“Oh,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Tony smiles. Butterflies be damned, he moves the project file onto the coffee table next to his now-cold mug and turns toward Steve. Slowly, he opens his arms. “C’mere,” he says, so quiet only Steve would hear if anyone else was around. As it is, they’re alone in the tower, and Steve doesn’t hesitate—one moment Tony’s arms are empty and the next he’s got 240 pounds of solid muscle curling into his chest and Steve’s tucking his big head under Tony’s chin like the world’s neediest Bernese mountain dog.

Thankfully, Tony’s arms are just long enough to fit all the way around Steve’s massive shoulders. And even if they weren’t, he’d find a way to make it work.

Knees knocking together, feet brushing up against each other on the carpet, Steve shifts and adjusts until he can wrap his arms around Tony’s waist. Once he settles in, he sighs right into the notch at the base of Tony’s throat. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Anytime, big guy,” Tony replies, softly with a warm smile he thinks Steve can’t see.

#bardingbeedle #steve rogers #tony stark #pre-getting together #stevetony #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #rachel writes fic #HAPPY JUNE 22 #KINDA #ignoring the fact that I'm posting this at 0130 on June 23 :3 #insecure steve rogers #insecure tony stark #tony and I see the same therapist lol #stovetuna writes #and yes 22 June is apparently the MCU date of Project Rebirth #PERFECT TIMING

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mc-lukanette · 4 years

Text

Grade for Each Other (Part 7)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Luka smiled fondly at his phone, scrolling through his latest conversations with Marinette as he reminisced. Ever since their "study date date," Marinette had made further efforts to spend time with his friends, occasionally sending him pictures or rambling texts about it.

Claudine may or may not have teased him about "stealing" Marinette from him if he didn't take action. He merely smiled, not just because he knew it was a joke, but because Marinette making an effort to know his friends even without him being there made him immensely happy. He found no reason to feel jealous and rather encouraged it. As comfortable as he was letting Marinette rely on him, having more than just him was a good thing, at least if it involved good people.

Plus, their conversation had brought him endless amounts of amusement. She asked for tips and hints as if it were a game she was trying to win, like being friends with his friends was incredibly important and she took it very seriously. He'd insisted that she didn't have to do anything special and she was surprised when that actually worked.

He knew they'd like her. Granted, he was very, extremely biased, but Marinette was a naturally likable person. It would've been weirder if they hadn't liked her, and even then, they'd probably feel bad about it.

Luka snorted at the idea, ignoring the guitar on his lap in favor of continuing to scroll through his phone. The amount that he and Marinette had texted each other had multiplied ever since she joined his class, so there was a lot for him to grin stupidly at.

Then, said "stupid grin" was promptly smothered by a pillow hitting his face. It dropped down in front of him and he looked ahead confusedly to see Juleka standing there, her visible brow furrowed as she shifted uncomfortably. She looked irritated but simultaneously apologetic about the pillow she'd impulsively(?) thrown at him.

Turning off his phone, he set his guitar to the side and got up. "What's wrong, Jule?"

She stared at the floor, rubbing her sole against the floorboards. It took a few seconds but she eventually mumbled, "Marinette..."

Oh.

"I was with the rest of the girls and I saw Marinette hanging out with Roche. Alix figured out the rest later." She glanced up at him, but couldn't hold eye contact for long. "Why didn't you tell me she was in your class?"

He frowned. He supposed this conversation was inevitable, but it still hurt to see his sister so upset. He stepped towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders and bending down to be just slightly below eye level with her. "It wasn't something for me to tell you, and I never talked about it with Marinette. Things are easier for her with us and I wasn't going to pressure her to let me tell you if she wasn't comfortable with it."

"So I messed up?"

"You—" He shook his head. "Jule, there were a lot of things going on in your class. It was just too much for her. You definitely weren't the main reason, okay?"

She let out a neutral sound, acknowledging that he was probably right but still feeling bad anyway.

"Jule..."

"Does she still want to do stuff for Kitty Section?" she asked hopefully.

He knew she wasn't being selfish about it; it was just her way of asking if Marinette was still willing to see her or if any guilt should be had if she didn't.

"I'll ask her." He could promise that much at least. "As soon as it's all behind her, I'll ask."

She nodded, accepting that. He let go of her shoulders as she walked past him, her expression not fully happy and rather conflicted. In a way, he considered it a good thing; Juleka reflecting on why Marinette had left would make her think more about everything that'd happened.

Especially with that liar and all of Marinette's former friends.

Her former...

Realizing something, Luka returned to his bed, leaning over it to retrieve his phone. He navigated back to his conversation with Marinette, checking her most recent messages. After all, if Juleka and Alix knew that Marinette was in his class, that meant that the rest of the girls probably knew as well. He didn't know them well enough to even guess what they wanted to do with that information, but he just had to make sure that Marinette was okay.

There was nothing, not even a bunch of, "I'm sorry! They found out!"s. He sent her a few vague texts asking how she was (not wanting to tell her something important over the phone), but after waiting the usual amount of time for a reply, there was nothing.

...He had to go see her.

He reached for his guitar, but rejected the idea and simply pocketed his phone. Glancing Juleka's way, he told her, "I'm going to check on Marinette," before heading for the doorway.

"Should I come?" Juleka mumble-asked, her voice sounding apologetic, and confused all at once.

He halted, turning to her but holding back his immediate reply. Giving her a smile, he replied, "You thinking about it is already something, Jule. Don't worry about what to do until you're sure what happened."

She went back to quietly staring at her desk, allowing him to slip out of the room and start to head out. Anarka had shouted some comment after him about "braving the storm," but he was too distracted to reply properly.

——————

Tom and Sabine were busy with customers when Luka entered the bakery, meaning that he wouldn't have to brace himself for another hug from Tom. It felt wrong to enter from the side door of the house considering that he wasn't invited, so he was prepared to wait in line to talk to Sabine if he had to.

However, Tom noticed him first. "Ah, Luka! What brings you here?"

A few customers glanced back to look at him. Luka ignored them, focusing on the matter at hand.

"I wanted to see Marinette. But, she didn't invite me, so if—"

"Oh, you can just head on up!" Tom insisted, apparently laughing at the politeness on display. "Just be sure to knock! Don't want to surprise her too much!"

Luka opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. He really just wanted to see Marinette.

He passed by Tom and Sabine, then made his way upstairs. He hadn't been there that often and was always led around when he was, but he knew the layout anyway.

A song where the lyrics stuck in one's head even with just a couple listens, he supposed.

Once he was in the living room, he headed up the stairs and hesitated for a few seconds before knocking. He listened closely, but silence was the only response he got. He didn't know if his voice would be louder than the knock, but he called anyway, "Marinette?"

A sound followed, like Marinette was scrambling to stand up. "Luka?"

He heard footsteps and waited for her to open the door. She looked utterly confused to see him there and he felt a little sheepish at how unbothered she looked in the moment; she was clearly okay, like nothing had happened.

"Hey."

"Hey!" She smiled despite her confusion, gesturing for him to come in if he so wished. "What are you doing here?"

He went into her room, watching her close the trap door behind him. "I thought you'd heard about Juleka. You weren't answering your messages so I got worried."

"Oh!" She covered her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—I didn't even hear—" She paused, expression shifting. "W-wait, what about Juleka? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," he reassured. "She... found out about you being in my class. I think all of her friends did too."

Marinette frowned, approaching him anxiously. "Did she get mad at you? I'm sorry, I should've—"

"No." He was quick to correct. "She was mostly confused, that's all."

"...Oh."

Suddenly, all the anxiety left her. She let out a breath, placing a hand to her chest. "That's a relief."

She turned away, returning to the table on the other side of the room. "I hadn't even thought about telling anyone, especially not lately. I didn't even think about it causing problems."

So she hadn't even been worried about anything that happened? Only that it may've caused trouble for him?

Luka blinked, then let out a steady breath. He found himself taken by how much Marinette had changed ever since she'd gotten into his class. It was subtle at first, but now it was obvious that she wasn't as stressed or panicked as much even with the mention of old friends. To say he was happy was an understatement.

"I'm still sorry about not answering your texts though," she said. "I really didn't see them—I mean, I know you know that because they're probably not marked as 'read', but... I got really into working on this and I guess I didn't hear my phone."

He saw her start to reach for an object on her table, but she stopped as her gaze was drawn to her phone. She hesitated, then picked it up, tapping a few things and then typing.

Luka heard his own phone beep at him. Pulling it out, he noticed that his recent messages were now on 'read' and she had replied to them as if they weren't currently in the same room together.

She blushed, explaining sheepishly, "It would've bothered me forever if I didn't reply properly."

He giggled. She was too cute. "Thank you."

She turned her attention back to the object and finally picked it up, letting out a sigh. "I guess it's just like me to accidentally ignore someone while I'm making something for them."

He perked up, approaching her. "You made something for me?"

"Yeah," she admitted, voice only slightly shyer. "It was kind of an excuse to hang out with your friends—"

"Our friends," he offered gently.

She didn't hesitate to "correct" herself, but was clearly touched. "To hang out with our friends one on one, but they all told me the same thing anyway: that I knew you and shouldn't worry about a second opinion. It's actually been done for a while, b-but I might've gotten carried away with making it look as good as possible."

She held it out to him. It looked like a beautiful music-themed notebook at first - the kind with rings to allow the removal, addition, and replacing of pages - but as soon as he took it and opened it up himself, there were—

"Staff lines?" He glanced at her, eyes wide.

She shifted in place, but nodded. "I always noticed you tapping away melodies on your desk. I don't know how easily you remember them, but it seemed like such a waste not to let you get it down right away."

The obvious and appropriate reaction was to thank her, but he found himself at a loss for words. The notebook was extremely beautiful and would simultaneously look so natural for him to have. If a teacher saw him with it, they'd probably presume that he was just using it to take notes.

While opened, the pages actually didn't reach to the left and right edges of the book. The extra space was taken up by things like a pencil holder (that held two pre-sharpened ones just in case apparently) and thin colored sticky notes, presumably for marking a page if he needed to.

It was too much. He couldn't stop feeling the darn thing. He'd gotten a handmade gift from Marinette before in the form on his Kitty Section costume, but this was different. It was something just for him, because she'd just casually thought of him and wanted to do it.

He looked at her and opened his mouth, but couldn't manage eye contact and averted his gaze. He was feeling too many things and looking at her didn't help. He was legitimately worried that he was just going to rush to impulsively kiss her if he stared at her for too long.

"I love it," he said quietly. He was briefly worried that his low volume didn't make it sound sincere, but she was beaming immediately. "Thank you so much, Marinette."

"Thank you," she whispered in return. She stepped closer, her hands coming up to rest upon his. "It's not a thank you gift - I felt like that'd make it seem too obligatory? - but still. You do a lot for me."

"I—"

Her fingers went up to stop him from speaking. She pouted at him. "And I don't want to hear about how you've done nothing and that's it's been all me, or how it's no big deal because you're just being yourself and it's easy to do that because w-whatever nice things you were about to say to me, okay?"

He nodded. His mouth was still covered, but his soft gaze hopefully got through his feelings in the moment.

Her fingers moving away from his lips, she smiled. "I just... feel really lucky to have you and I wanted to make this for you."

"Thank you," he repeated, now less for the book and more just for her. "I'll cherish it."

"I know you will." Though the sentence was confident, her voice was filled with the elated notes of someone whose hopes had been confirmed.

They didn't say anything else for a moment. He was still on an emotional high while Marinette seemed thoughtful.

Her eyes went to him, then his hands. One of her hands was still over his own, her fingers sliding steadily along the back of said hand. Her lips pursed, one brow lowered as she seemed to consider something.

"...Luka—"

"Dinner's almost ready!"

The trap door swung open, Marinette leaping up and clutching her chest in shock as Tom and Sabine popped in. Luka knew they hadn't been doing anything strange, but the moment itself felt so intimate that he stiffened, almost embarrassed.

"Oh! Luka?" Tom asked. "You're still here? We must've forgotten about you!"

"Sorry if we startled you at all," Sabine said, completely and deceptively innocent. "Would you like to join us for dinner, as an apology?"

Calming himself, Luka carefully closed the book and hugged it to his chest with one arm. It seemed rude to refuse their offer - they were so obviously doing this on purpose - but he wasn't just going to agree either.

He turned to Marinette, about to ask if it'd be okay, only to be surprised when she seemed less horrified by their intrusion and more... offended? Her face was turned away, her cheeks were pink, and she was pouting.

Leaning in, he whispered so as not to be heard by her parents. "Marinette?"

She met his gaze, pouting more and nearly sulking. Under her breath, she replied with a huff, "T-that... that's what I was going to ask ."

He gaped, then couldn't help breaking into a happy flustered chuckle. This entire family was going to kill him and he welcomed it.

Standing straight, Luka walked past Marinette to place his gift on the table, then turned to Tom and Sabine with a smile.

"I'd be happy to."

[Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

#multi chapter: Grade for Each Other

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

I Hate You, Park Jimin!

Chapter 24 (FINAL CHAPTER)

Words Count: 7.3k ripppp

TW: SMUT BABY IT’S ALL YOURS

Link to Chapter 23

Link to Masterlist

I woke up to Jimin giving me soft kisses on my lips. I was vaguely aware of it at first until my brain was slowly waking up and my first instinct was to push him away and immediately covering my mouth with my hand.

“Go away, I have morning breath.” I mumbled, eyes still shut tight.

I heard him chuckling. And the kisses went everywhere- from my forehead, my cheeks, my nose and finally the crown of my head.

“Get up, sleepyhead. We’ve a lot of place to go today.”

“Do we..?” I muttered while my eyes were slowly opening. I was surprised to see Jimin already showered, smelling so heavenly, dressed in black turtleneck- god he looked so handsome. What a wonderful thing to wake up to.

“Yes we are. So get your ass up now.”

And so an hour later, we kicked off our little trip in Tokyo. Jimin seemed like he knew Tokyo like the back of his hand. It’s such a beautiful city. While it was modern, the nature was never left behind and every view was a scenery.

He took me to several hotspots, becoming a dedicated photographer for me in the mean time, we had lunch at an exquisite restaurant in which case, by the way, I saw with my own two eyes Jimin being hit on by a Japanese girl. I happened to witness it while I exited the restaurant later than Jimin since I went to the washroom and asked him to wait outside.

He must’ve stood out, he always does with his charisma and god-tier sex appeal.

I stood at the threshold as I watched the girl shyly approached him, conversations exchanged with Jimin listening intently then laughing with her which does something to my heart. But then when the girl tried to reach for her phone, I saw him bowing his head, said something, then turned around, his eyes meeting mine.

I froze, clearly caught watching them.

Jimin remained polite as he made a small gesture pointing towards me, making the girl flustered and she bowed several times saying presumably ‘I’m sorry’ before going away.

“Why are you just standing there?” He asked, head tilting slightly to the side.

I cleared my throat then just proceeded to walk past him. I was aware of him watching me intently.

“You’re going the wrong way, though.” He said from behind me and I froze.

I heard him laughing then my hands were clasped in his as he pulled me towards his direction.

“Cold?” He asked, noticing me shivering. We were at Roppongi Hills’ observatory deck with Tokyo’s breathtaking nightview laid to see. The sky was getting darker though it was barely six in the evening, winter making the daylight shorter. The cold breeze made me shiver although I was already wearing a scarf around my neck and layers of clothes.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

He just watched me, perhaps waiting for another shiver running down my spine. Then he pulled me close.

“Jimin! We’re in public!” I scolded when his face was dangerously close to mine.

“Who cares?” He smiled naughtily. Then he just pulled me into a hug. “I’m just trying to make you warm. My poor girl is cold. Can’t let her be cold.” He said then he pulled back, only to turn me around so he was backhugging me. I remained silent as we both stood there, appreciating the view.

“Jimin..” I called.

He hummed.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He drew a breath before exhaling slowly, almost like a sigh. “I just want to make you happy.. you know, give you a bit of a distraction, maybe.”

My heart swelled hearing his words. Then I turned around and gave him a peck on his cheeks, making him blush even in the midst of the cold weather.

We went down to eat after that, the building filled with lavish restaurant and shopping malls. It was still early when we finished dinner, perhaps around eight in the evening and Jimin asked if I wanted to go sightseeing nearby area since we still have time before it gets too late but I just shook my head, asking if we can just head back instead.

“Babe.. you okay?” He moved closer, hands finding mine to lace with it immediately. His gaze on me was soft. We were in the back of the car, on our way back to the suite.

I felt guilty almost instantly. I had a wonderful date with Jimin today and I knew he did all that he could to make me happy or simply just putting a smile on my face but I can’t shake off the heavy feelings in my chest. I smiled but it doesn’t reach my eyes. I knew he was well aware of it too and that hurt me more.

I was.. unsure of everything that’s going on in my life right now. I love Jimin, a lot, yes but I live in the reality. What is to come after this?

“Just.. tired.” I gave him a small smile and he brought my hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on my knuckles. I remained silent the rest of the ride back, the feeling of unease gnawing in my stomach and part of it was due to my own aloofness towards Jimin. I sighed. I really am was twisted in my own way.

When we arrived, I took off my scarf and discarded my winter jacket, leaving me in just my cream turtleneck and black jeans. Jimin was behind me as he put down all of the shopping bags from the shopping haul we did (mostly Jimin who bought stuffs for me that I had to ask if we’re migrating to Japan).

“Jimin, what’s this..?” I stood at the bedroom’s threshold, blinking rapidly as I took in the view in front of me. The room was dimly lit, bedsheet changed- it was all shiny of satin, romantic decor pieces were everywhere- rows of litted candles on the floor on each side of the bed and rose petals literally all over the bed.

The romantic setting took me by surprise and I failed to contain a gasp when Jimin appeared beside me, tugging my hands and bringing me closer to the bed. We both stood at the end of the bed and I gulped, having completely no idea of what’s to come. My pulse raced.

He stood there, just watching me intently for a moment, both of his hands still holding mine firmly. “I.. I knew I’ve upset you a lot and everything seemed overwhelming.. and there’s a lot on your mind right now.. but I just want you to know that I want to be your safe space.. I want to be your source of distraction or the one to make all your worry go away.” He said carefully and my heart never thumped so fast. “Yesterday.. you asked why didn’t I tell you first about the proposal and all that and I felt guilty because I knew it was wrong and that you deserve all the hearts and flowers. So I want to make it right as soon as possible.”

He dropped to his knee in front of me, together with my lung that I swore I wasn’t breathing at that moment.

“Kim Hana, my love, my life, my baby.” He winked at that last endearment though I couldn’t bring myself to react since my body went into shock the moment he dropped to his knee. “I love you, a lot. And ever since I met you I’ve changed a lot and it was all for the better. And so I’m here, on my knee, asking you to love me back for the rest of your life and I’ll do the same. This might look stupid but..” he held my hand, and pulled out the ring he put on when he proposed yesterday and held it close to my fourth finger, ready to put it back on again. Then he took a breath before finally uttering the words. “Marry me?”

I think I stood frozen for I don’t know how long. And then suddenly everything seemed to flash like images in my mind, the encounter with Yoo Nara and her words saying I’ll never be good enough echoing in my mind, the deal between Jimin and his father.. the sick memory of my own father leaving my mother.. It all suddenly felt too much, my vision clouded and I felt tears slowly dropping.

“What about your dad..? And the deal..?” I said, now soaked through tears. “You.. you’ve thought about this through.. right?” I asked and when he frowned, I continued, “You’re not being forced into marriage or something like that right..?”

To my surprise, he laughed. “God- honestly you’re so adorable. Is that what you’re worried about..?” I nodded. “Marrying you would make me the happiest man alive.. why would I be forced to do something like that..? I love you, you idiot. And I wanna marry you because I want to take care of you for the rest of my life, so hurry up and give me an answer since my knee is going to give out soon.”

“Oh.” Oh! “I’m-“ I tried forming coherent words with face still full of tears, blinking rapidly to clear my vision and when my eyes are met with him smiling at me- “Yes.. yes.. I’m.. I’ll marry you, I love you so much-“ I said as I went down on my knee to throw my arms around him, pulling him close.

Jimin laughed, flustered from the sudden hug and his ignored ring. But he was quick to reply to my hug, running smooth circles behind my back while his other hand held my face, stroking my head in soft, soothing pace and I can’t help the tears again that I broke into a sob.

When I pulled away, I was still sobbing. Jimin looked at me with adoring gaze and brought his hands up to wipe the tears on my cheeks. “Aigoo you silly thing.”

I only stared back at him in utter fondness because I literally love him so much, it’s almost overwhelming. My eyes threatened to well up again just by looking at him so I distracted myself by taking his hand that’s holding the ring down to stare at it.

“Give me your hand. Need to put the ring on that finger.” He grinned at me. I held out my hand nervously nevertheless and he slid the finger in effortlessly on my fourth finger. Looking clearly at the ring again this time,

It was simply stunning.

Jimin knew I don’t like fancy or lavish jewellery so instead he picked the one with minimal design for me though the diamond told me the price was nothing short of cheap. He produced another one from his pocket but this time it was the men’s design.

“Put it on me?”

And with another tear threatening, I nodded and took it from his hand. God, I’m an emotional mess right now. Drawing a breath, I shakily put the ring on his finger and I swore his expression after that was one I would die for. He beamed so happily at me, eyes completely gone from his huge smile, his teeth flashing.

“I.. I love you so much.” I said and caressed his cheek.

“And I love you, baby.” He stood up then brought me to sit at the foot of the bed, our knees meeting.

“I was just worried..” I confessed as I stared at him. “While we were at the party.. Yoo Nara came up to me.. she told me that I’ll never be good enough for you..” I noticed Jimin stiffening at the mention of her name. “And that’s when she mentioned about your deal with your father.. and it worries me if you’re forced into this marriage..”

“Sshh.. don’t say that. Don’t even think about it. I love you and there’s nothing being forced about that. Personally I think it’s even better that I can marry you earlier so I can keep other guys from hitting on you.”

I smacked his shoulders and he laughed.

He leant in closer, lips very slightly brushing against my earlobe, making me shudder. “And so that I can make love to you.. every night, every morning.. or every second.” He whispered.

My breathing suddenly became erratic so I pushed his shoulder at arms length, trying to make space between us before I became even messier. “Pervert.” I accused and he only chuckled in response. “And you still haven’t ask for my mom’s permission. So this is still invalid.” I said, holding my hand up to show my ring.

He then took my hand and just smiled slyly. “I already did.” He said simply and burst out laughing seeing my expression looking completely aghast. “When I first met your mom.. at your house.. while you were showering, I had a long conversation with her about you. I told her sincerely about my feelings towards you. And even before that.. I’ve made it clear towards my parents that I don’t want to marry Nara. I’ve always known about my fate, to inherit the company and continue the family’s legacy, marry the girl of their choice. So I just ask for some leniency, since I would have to marry anyway, can’t they just let me marry someone that I love? And so the moment I talked to your mother, I told her about all this and the possibility that I might have to propose to you sooner rather than later. And she seemed accepting enough which I was very thankful for. And then before the charity dinner my parents held, I went to see her and officially asked for her permission to ask for your hand in marriage. And she said yes as long as you agree.” His hands brushed my knuckles softly.

“I..” Wow. That was a lot to take in.. Silence fell upon us for a few beats as I processed everything Jimin said. Then I hit his arms and his look was of utter surprise. “You sly thing! And here I thought I’d be smacked to death by my mom at any second!”

He burst out laughing. “I know her blessing’s important to you.. so I knew I had to ask her first.” His fingers played the ring on my finger.

I glared at him but I can’t ignore the swell of my heart. Jimin really did go to such extent just to make sure everything was right for me. I’m literally the luckiest girl in the world.

“I’m sorry.. for being so out of it since yesterday.. It felt too much and I still felt hurt from losing Jungkook, my friend who I’ve thought-“

“Sshhh-“ He cut me with his index finger on my lips. “Don’t think about it anymore, okay?”

I nodded and with a determined stare towards him, I pulled him closer to me then kissed him on the lips- fierce and determined to tell him everything that I was afraid of and him- answering with the same force of determination as if to say that everything would be alright as long as we have each other.

It wasn’t long until the kiss escalated into something more intense and desire started to spread like wildfire inside me.

His tongue started becoming insistent to enter my mouth and I granted access almost instantly. His kiss was hard, lips mashed against mine as if trying to destroy me. He broke the kiss, allowing me to catch my breath only to suck at my bottom lip fervently making me squirm on the inside.

“God- I want you.. so bad.” His intention was clear as day when he started planting open mouth, wet kisses on my jaw and my neck. I tried to stifle a moan, biting my bottom lip while tilting my head to give him better access. He seemed to appreciate the gesture as he started licking the expanse of my neck and the crook of it that lead to my shoulder, his hot breath against mine. I was vaguely aware of his hands that started almost innocently on the hem of my shirt till it sneaked inside, palm resting flat on my hip.

He went back to kissing me on the lips as his canvas on my neck was limited due to my turtleneck top. He pushed me gently towards the bed and I lifted my feet off the floor, obediently following his gesture as I crawled on my back towards the top of the bed until my back landed flat on pillows.

“Let’s get this off you.” He said in between kisses and proceeded to take off my shirt, leaving me bare with only my laced black bra. “God- I’m so lucky to be the only person able to see this.”

I blushed and bit my lips. He leant back in to take me by the mouth again, hands now roaming towards my breast, giving tugs and squeezes over my bra.

I hummed in pleasure when he groped my breasts hard, feeling my nipples hardening underneath. I arched my back as soon as his hands made its way to my back and with expertise, unhooked my bra, pulling it from me, leaving my breasts bare without anything concealing it anymore.

Jimin wasted no time diving in and showing his appreciation with his tongue and sneaky bites on my nipples, laving at them like a man starved leaving me breathless and a hot mess, writhing underneath him. His expert work on my breasts, sucking and fondling them made my body squirm and yearning for more.

He straddled himself on top of me, lowering himself enough to let me know of his hardened member that’s pushing against my clothed core.

The sound of his sinful lips were enough to make me quiver and I unintentionally tried to squeeze my thigh, making Jimin groaned in response.

He pulled his lips away and I saw his eyes dark and lidded with lust. “You’re eager for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whimpered and tried to close my legs again, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jimin.

“Then let’s get this one down here, off too.” He said and staring at me, he worked his way through the button of my jeans and eased it from my legs as soon as I lifted my hips. “Hmm, someone’s already wet.. down here.” I gasped when I felt Jimin’s finger grazed my clothed core. I moaned deeply in pleasure when he started rubbing circles over my clothed clit.

I arched my back, supporting my body on both my elbows. “Jimin stop teasing me.”

He smirked. “Tell me what you want, baby.” He said, hands still teasing me relentlessly, applying force every now and then causing me to curl my fingers on the bed sheets underneath.

“Jimin, I want you..” I whimpered.

He chuckled in response, though his breathing was slightly labored, clearly affected by my response to his touch. “I love how you respond to every single of my touch.. makes me wanna tease you more.” Before I could say anything, Jimin pulled my underwear aside and without warning inserted his index finger inside. It entered almost without obstacle since I was already so wet for him.

“God- you’re so fucking wet already and we haven’t really start the game yet.” He grinned, looking pleased with my responsiveness. Then his expression changed, gaze heavy with lust, he bit his lips. “Fuck- I can’t wait to taste you.”

His deft finger started to move inside me, rocking back and forth and not long until he inserted another and I moaned in utter pleasure from the intrusion.

“You like that, huh baby?”

I nodded frantically, eyes shut closed as I immerse in pleasure.

“You like my fingers better or my cock better?”

My head that was lolled back just now snapped back to find his gaze. He can’t be seriously asking that question? But when I found no trace of playfulness in his expression, I desperately answer, “B-both-“ the same time his fingers pushed itself to my core, hitting my G-spot. He didn’t stop there- his fingers worked in hard, fast pace, constantly pushing to the hilt making my stomach knot from the building pressure. “Fuck fuck fuck Jimin- I’m-“

“You close baby?” He asked, though he and I both knew he didn’t have to. He knew my body like the back of his hand, perhaps better than me.

Jimin wasted no time increasing his pressure, his fingers expertly trying to unravel the knot in my stomach and when his other hand reached out to press over my breast, groping it with force, I came undone from his ministrations with a loud scream of his name.

Jimin’s fingers was still inside me while I came down from my high, tight fingers clutching the satin sheets slowly uncurling and body wilting. I opened my eyes to see him looking at me with wanting gaze while he slowly took his fingers out.

“I don’t think..” he brought his fingers to his face, “I’ll ever get tired of seeing you cum,” he licked his own fingers. His fingers that were inside me a few minutes ago. God- I swear Jimin licking his fingers that were soaked with my arousal was the hottest image I’d ever seen.

Unknowingly, I gulped as I watched him intently.

Jimin, never missing any of my body gesture, held his hand out to me. “You wanna have a taste of yourself too?”

I nodded and leaned forward eagerly, taking his fingers completely in my mouth. I hummed in pleasure when I tasted my own salty arousal. I watched Jimin’s expression and seeing his eyes trained on my lips on his fingers, I put my hands over his and started agressively sucking on his fingers, doing it how I would do it with his cock. I watched his expression becoming harder, his jaw tight as he swallowed. I held my tongue out and slowly licked his fingers before I rammed it back inside my mouth and start fucking it. Jimin’s lips parted, no doubt imagining if it was his cock instead.

“Fuck- if you’re so eager to suck, you just have to tell me.” He said, yet not doing anything to stop my teasing act.

And then while hollowing my cheeks completely, I took his fingers out of my mouth with a pop. With a seductive gaze on him, I licked my lips as if challenging him.

Jimin swallowed but remained calm while his finger started to unbutton his shirt one by one, slowly revealing his skin. My heart rate picked up, eager to see him no matter how many times I’ve seen him naked. I leant back against the headboard, watching him as if he’s doing some strip show. When he finally pulled the shirt off him, he crawled towards me and with a slight force pulled me so I was now on top of him while he had his back against the headboard.

“Undress me.” He commanded and I’ve never been so eager to comply. The sexual tension getting higher with Jimin being dominant in bed like this that my hands were almost trembling when I got to the button of his jeans. Aware of him watching me like a hawk, I decided to tease him by palming him over his jeans.

He sucked a breath then narrowed his eyes at me. “Did I say you could tease?”

I only smiled at him playfully but decided not to further act on it. I unbuttoned his jeans, slowly pulled his zipper and eased him out of his jeans together with his Calvin Klein boxer. I could feel myself getting excited seeing his hard rock erection against his stomach it was almost embarrassing. I don’t think I’d ever get tired of seeing his glorious cock- strained with veins, red at the tip which looked so mouth-watering to be licked-

“Suck it.” He growled, obviously affected by my intense staring. If I wasn’t so eager to suck him though, I would’ve flushed crimson for being so thirsty of his cock. Not wasting any time, I dived down to wrap my fingers fully around his cock, causing him to hiss at the contact.

He watched me carefully as I ran my fingers up and down his length, slightly surprised that the act is turning myself on more when it should’ve only been Jimin’s. Meeting his gaze, I stroked him a few more times before adjusting my position, knees obediently in between his spread out legs, arching my body to lean down close towards his length before finally, finally taking its head in my mouth. The act had the both of us groaning in pleasure.

I would love to take my time appreciating his beautiful cock but I was thirsty for it and a bit too eager to please him. So when I pulled my mouth back out, I gathered as much saliva and used my hands to spread them all over. Then, with my hand firmly clasped on the bottom of his length, I began taking him in my mouth.

I fell into a quick repeated motion, bobbing up and down and cheeks hollowed to suck the skin of it.

“Argh- fuck-“ Jimin groaned. He moved forward very slightly just so he could reach my hair and held it up. I sucked him even more enthusiastically, increasing my pace and trying to take as much of him in my mouth. As I did so, Jimin’s other hand stroked my head as he watch his cock being swallowed each time by my mouth. Groaning with cursive words, his head then tilted backwards and his hand that was holding my hair was now holding my head firmly and started to guide me. His hips also began to thrust upwards to meet my mouth and I was sure he was getting closer.

“Shit fuck baby I’m gonna cum-“

With the last of his thrust, he pulled himself out of my mouth and I was quick to offer him my chest, breast on full display for his canvas. “Cum on me baby,” I urged which caused another curse to leave his mouth and with a few strokes of his cock, warm hot seeds spurted right onto my breasts and he continued to palm himself through his orgasm, milking out everything out of him.

He opened his eyes, only to be met with the sight of my boobs smeared with his cum and me smearing them all over.

“Ah dirty girl.” He smirked, eyes glinting between awe and amusement.

“Only for you.” I winked then pulled myself up to kneel in front of him. Putting both of my hands on each side of his shoulder, I pushed him back so he was leaning against the headboard. “Let me ride you baby.” I told him seductively.

“God- fuck you’re so hot.” He groaned when I moved myself to place both knees on each side of his hips, my sex ghosting over his erection.

I pulled at it, guiding it towards my entrance elliciting a curse from Jimin’s mouth as soon as its head made contact with my wet pussy.

I too couldn’t deny the sensational feeling of his hard rock erection brushing against me. Closing my eyes, I continued to stroke his cock up and down against the lips of my womanhood, shudding in pleasure just by the thought of it finally entering me.

Jimin, unable to contain anymore, put his hands on both cheeks of my ass, squeezing it slightly. “Babe come on. Sink down on me.”

I opened my eyes then. Staring determinedly with eyes full of lust, I slowly sank down onto him making the both of us groan. I froze when his head entered mine, eyes almost rolling to the back as the frenzied feeling of his length inside me consumed me. It was a wonder how I still need time to adjust to his length even after all the times we’ve had sex and even after I’ve cummed from his fingering skills.

I bit my lip as I tried hard to focus on the task at hand, my breath heavy. Then I moved, further sinking down on him and taking his whole length inch by inch.

“Oh my god-“ I panted breathlessly as I felt him stretching me to the core when I’m fully sat on him. He always seemed to grow in size seeing how I always seemed unready for him. I clenched around him when the pleasure seemed overwhelming that I felt like combusting right at the spot.

“Fuck- you’re so tight.” Jimin groaned, his grip on my ass tightening.

I struggled to find support and ended up settling the palms of my hand on his firm chest and the other on his shoulder. Then slowly, I raised myself up, clutching Jimin hard from how good it felt.

Jimin’s head lolled backward slightly as he sucked a deep breath. “Jesus fuck- how do you feel so good?” He told through gritted teeth.

Not long after that, I started to pick up my pace, sinking back down onto him till the curves of my ass hit the apex of his firm thighs and rising again, almost completely off off him before sitting again.

I’ve always loved riding Jimin, it gave me such sense of power to make the both of us come undone. It’s the way his cock would reach the hilt of my core each time that gave me unparallel amount of pleasure and had my eyes rolling to the back from the sheer feeling.

My grip on both his shoulders now became tougher which Jimin didn’t seem to mind as I felt the building sensation starting to consume me whole, drawing me closer to the edge of precipice in each second.

One of Jimin’s hand went towards my breast, kneading it immediately with force and sending a surge of thrill that had my head tilting backwards. He groped it harshly, elliciting a loud moan from me. “Fuuuck- I love it so much when you ride me baby.” He growled between heavy breathing, his eyes almost losing focus from the ecstasy, his bottom lip bitten so hard it could draw blood. “You look so gorgeous and so fucking sexy every time you ride me- shit fuck-“ he leaned in closer, closing the gap between his face and my chest as his mouth went towards my breast to suckle roughly on them, leaving bites and marks of his ministrations. His hands were now placed firmly on my back as his tongue continued to flick and suck my hardened nipples. I continued doing my best to go up and down his length but I knew my own stamina was not going to last to thrust any faster.

Jimin knew from my slowing pace that I was getting exhausted so he took over and started thrusting upwards in a fast pace, making me scream his name.

“Jimin- Jimin-“ I chanted his name between breathlessness, letting him know that I was getting closer.

He pulled out right then and I whined from the lost of him inside me. “Come baby, I wanted to try this for so long.” He held his hand out to me as he kneeled, making my brows furrow in confusion. Nevertheless, I placed my hands in his and I squeaked in surprise as he swiftly pulled me off the bed and took me to the window.

“J-Jimin?” He didn’t say anything as he pushed my body towards the window that oversees the glorious night view of Tokyo, my back flushed against his and my breasts pressed against the cold glass.

“I’ve always had this fantasy of fucking you against the window where everybody can see you naked and you taking my cock so willingly.” He ran his hand over my hair tenderly as if to calm me down before his fingers raked my hips, pulling it back slightly so he could align his cock against my entrance.

Fuck- this was so hot. Jimin was going to fuck me against this window and the mere thought of it made a gush of arousal escape my heated sex.

“This turns you on, huh? I knew you’ve always been into public sex ever since you fucked me in the parking lot..” he whispered near my ears, making me shiver from the cold as well as his words. I flushed crimson in embarassment. Perhaps I do have that kink.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good against this window.. and everyone’s gonna see you cumming so hard..” he bit my earlobe and before I could reply with anything, his hip slammed against me and I gasped at the feeling of his cock entering me deeply.

He dragged me back slightly by the hip before ramming his cock back in me harshly that I had to place the palms of my hand on the window for support.

“Oh God fuck Jimin, this feels so good oh God-“ I moaned.

“Yeah? You love being fucked roughly like this, don’t you?” He pulled me back once again by the hip so I was bending over to give him better angle for him to fuck me mercilessly. “Hold tight baby,” he warned. Then, using his thigh to spread my legs further, he placed his hands on each side of my waist to hold me firmly before roughly snapping his waist against me making me whimper.

“You look so fucking gorgeous- agh shit-“ he tilted his head backwards as his hip worked relentlessly into me, burying his cock deep inside me and hitting my G-spot with each thrust. The lewd sound of my behind slapping against his thighs filled the bedroom and I went closer to orgasm with each thrust.

His hips snapped savagely against me while his fingers digged even deeper into my sides, holding it tightly I wonder if it would leave bruises. He continued to slam again and again, each snap harder than before making my legs quiver as time goes on and my hands on the window slipping lower from lack of energy.

The pressure in my stomach increased, edging closer and closer from Jimin’s ruthlessness. “Jimin, Jimin, I’m gonna cum-“

“Fuck me too baby-“ he continued with his thrust, not losing his pace as he thrusted even faster. He pulled me by the shoulder so I was no longer bending but standing straight against the window, my forehead making contact with the glass while my breasts pressed roughly against it as well.

He continued pounding into me, lips close to my ears almost kissing it and when his hand travelled towards my clit, rubbing the surface in rushed circles, pushing me closer to the edge, I screamed his name as the most intense orgasm ripped through me.

I was unable to form any coherent words as the orgasm washes over me, my head lolled backward as the pressure subsided. I was too occupied with riding out my orgasm that I was vaguely aware of Jimin still thrusting behind me. He had changed his pace- no longer as fast as before, it turned into a slow grinding which only turned to serve him being able to thrust the deepest he could inside me, hitting me straight to the hilt.

“Fuck fuck fuck shit I’m so close-“ he panted. I clenched against him and that was when I heard him groan harshly and then hot seeds spurted inside me as Jimin reached his own orgasm.

“God babe-“ he cursed and swallowed deeply before taking large breath to steady his own breathing.

My legs quivered from the intense orgasm and my hands slipped from the window, making me almost stumble if Jimin didn’t slip his hands immediately under my arms to hold me steady.

“You okay baby?” He asked, leaning close to pepper kisses on the side of my head.

“I can’t stand anymore.” I confessed. He smiled fondly before pulling out of me then lifting me bridal style and placed me back gently on the bed. He crawled on top of me and took my lips in his in a passionate and soothing lip lock.

He pulled back slightly, sweaty forehead against mine. “Babe..”

“Hmm..?”

He pulled himself even further, allowing me to get a good look on him. He brushed strands of my hair that’s stuck on my sweaty forehead to the side. “I’m not done yet with you.”

My eyes widened and that’s when I felt the protruding of his erection against my stomach. “You’re kidding!” I gasped.

He smiled before beginning peppering kisses on my cheeks, down to my jaw. “I’m insatiable for you darling. Think you can go another round?” He gave kitten licks on my lips and I unknowingly parted them.

“I- I don’t think I can.” My legs were already weak and I was sure I was going to suffer from overstimulation if Jimin continued his ministrations though it doesn’t seemed effective as his sinful lips now moved towards my neck, licking and sucking it, leaving bruising lovebites.

“Jimin-“ I called him in warning as his hand wandered dangerously close to my clit as his lips hover over my swollen breast. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to handle anymore stimulation from Jimin but then my body unconsciously arched as his fingers started rubbing the lips of my pussy up and down. I was already sore down there but his expert fingers were so good, coaxing me in calming manner after the rough session just now making me moan in pleasure.

“See? Your body can still take it.” He said as I blushed abashed when I felt my own arousal starting to pool again. I whimpered as he started pushing teasing fingers inside me, only putting the tip of them, making me whimper wantonly.

His lips that was licking my nipples suddenly went away together with his fingers in between my thigh. Before I could process it, he was spreading my legs and placing it on top of his shoulders as he crouched down between them, face against my warm heat.

“Fuck you look so tasty-“ was the only thing he said before he delved into my pussy, all tongues out to send me into an overdrive once again earning a gasp from me. His nose was practically brushing against my clit as his tongue delved deeper into me, swirling and swiping everywhere making a gush of liquid spill and Jimin hummed in appreciation. He continued to lave his tongue on my swollen lips and I struggled to keep a cry from my mouth as my body now jerked in response to Jimin who seemed determined to taste my arousal to the core.

His tongue was torturous, pushing me to the limit slowly and steadily. He looked up at my flushed form, body aching in need just like how he wanted. He pulled away then, only to straddle me once again, the head of his cock brushing against my sensitive clit making me groan. Jimin seemed satisfied with the amount of liquid I was producing, his eyes full of lust as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my entrance, coating it with my arousal.

Then, once he was satisfied enough, he teased his cock at my entrance, making me curse.

He chuckled. “Just relax, baby. I wanna make love to you.. so I’ll take over from here.” He said, smirking down at me though his breathing was slightly ragged as if he couldn’t hold it anymore. Giving his own cock a few pumps, his sharp breath was the only warning before he buried himself deep inside me, hitting straight to my cervix on first thrust. My eyes blowned wide as I screamed his name, tears threatening from the overstimulation.

One of his hand found the headboard for support while his other held me firmly on my shoulder as he pull back almost completely before snapping back in with such force, making me jolt slightly.

He started to pick up his pace, his hip slamming against mine as he thrusted mercilessly, leaving me a whimpering mess. The obscene sound of our skin lapping and him grunting in each thrust as well as my little squeaks as he held me at his mercy filled the bedroom.

And then he slowed down, grinding against me with slow and calculated move but his cock still managed to fill me completely with his girth. He lowered himself slightly, aligning his face so I could see him clearly.

“God I love you.. so so much.. I can’t wait to marry you baby.” He said and it was clear of the utter adoration in his eyes.

My tears that was threatening just now slipped through.

Jimin’s face turned alarm. “Babe..? Baby why are you crying..?” His hand went to cup my cheeks tenderly, his thrust coming to a halt.

“Because.. I love you.. I love you so much Jimin.. I just want to thank you for everything.. you mean so much to me..” I sobbed his name. It seemed so out of place to cry during sex but I had no idea myself why I had such sudden overwhelming of feelings. It just suddenly hit me like a truck that I’m so in love with Jimin I felt it was necessary to tell him right then and there.

Jimin’s shoulder sagged slightly from relief. Perhaps relieved that he didn’t do something that hurt me. His thumb went to my cheeks to wipe my tears and caressing them. “You’re so adorable I love you so much.” He said before leaning to close the gap between our bodies, his hands going towards my back, hugging me close and I mirrored his act. He pressed a soft lingering kiss on my lips before his hips started moving again, grinding slowly and building the pressure in me again. I whined as my toes started to curl when Jimin started to pick up his pace.

He moved faster, hips snapping mercilessly against mine once again, persuading me to another orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with each thrust. He held me even closer and I took his lips in mine to kiss him passionately which he gladly returned.

“I love you.” He mumbled between kisses.

“I love you too.”

And with that, his hips snapped harder, ramming his cock deep inside me and we both knew the both of us were nearing our peak. The squelching sound of my beyond wet pussy and our skin lapping driving us nearer to a state of bliss. I kissed him harder, teeth clashing and tongue fighting for dominance and he replied the same, moaning and grunting into the kiss until we both reached our peak at the same time. Our lips still connected, bodies tight against each other, my breasts completely pressed by him, our hips still meeting as we both rode our orgasm, a gush of liquid rushing through me while Jimin’s seeds spurted in me for the second time that night.

It was only after our breathing had slowed and Jimin was done thrusting his last few seeds, milking himself completely as I clenched around his cock that our lips parted. He held his forehead against mine, both of us still struggling to catch our breath.

“I love you.” He said softly.

I hummed. “And I love you, bad boy.”

“Bad boy?” He chuckled.

“Yes, my bad boy.” I smiled against his nose.

He kissed me again, our bodies still tangled and that’s when I realized that I wanted to be with Jimin till the day I die. All sorts of insecurities that I had was no longer there. I believe in him. And I’m going to believe in myself as well. Our roads in the future may be uncertain but I’m willing to give it all if it’s with Jimin.

“Forever?” I heard him asking.

“Forever.”

THE END. POSTED ON 210321 10:00PM

WELL I CANT BELIEVE IM DONE WITH THIS STORY! To be honest with yall, I’ve finished writing this a long time ago but haven’t proof read and it takes so long for me to post because I don’t really wanna read it again because I find it cringe to write what I wrote especially after some time has passed hahaha. So tips to everyone out there, if you wrote something, just put it out there! Proofread *or not* LATER! Because you might not put it out there like, forever haha. Anyways, just wanna say thank you to anyone who read the whole series. This is honestly my first time writing a whole story, with an ending (mind you i never get to the ending haha) so I would like to apologise for all my shortcomings, flaws and other forms of criticisms haha. I solely started this because of my passion in writing and of course, my overwhelming love towards Jimin and all of BTS xD Thank you for staying till the end! I’ll come back with better work in the future <3

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnihateyouparkjimin #jimin fic #bts #btsfic #park jimin #jimin #jiminsmut

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