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swcetnight · 3 years

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It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength." Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

enjoying this story? please be sure to like and reblog!! It would really help me out, and i would love to hear your thoughts and feelings regarding this work 🥺🤍 thank you for taking the time to read!!

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#fic: it’s definitely you #faes fanfics #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung x oc #bts fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Don’t Make A Sound

Requested by anon HERE

Summary: You are forced to share a bed with Jensen due to overbooking at the Dallas Con he had to work at. What do you do when you catch your boss having a very hot wet dream?

Warnings: Smut, Bed Humping, Masterbation, Public Smut?, Language, shameless objectification of Jensen Ackles, Jensen having a wet dream (yes that’s a warning) I think that’s about it. This is pretty much porn, and I’m not sorry.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1931

A/N: This is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Just thought I’d throw this one out there for you guys since my posting got thrown off by a hurricane, and I’m feeling generous tonight. Besides, who can say no to a bed humping Jensen Ackles? I didn’t think so. Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

***MASTERLIST***

You don’t know how you got here… Wait a minute… That’s not entirely true. You do know how you got here. There were no other rooms available, it was the last Dallas Con of the year, and it had been put off and hyped up so long that it was overbooked.

You’d been working as Jensen Ackles PA for the last six months. With SPN ending, and his new role on The Boys looming, he’d been overwhelmed in his workload, and he needed a little extra help getting organized, which is where you come in.

Normally you would have just rented a room close to his. This time though, there were no other rooms available, and the only room available by the time Jensen and yourself got to Dallas was a suite with one king bed. Jensen let you stay with him, saying there was no way in hell you were going to drive across town to rent another room when there was a perfectly good room with a big enough bed to share right here.

Now here you are.

So yes, you know very well how you got here. Laying in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, with your extremely hot boss laying in nothing but a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts, and a black fitted T-Shirt, less than a whole foot away from you.

Couldn’t get any more awkward? Wait!! There’s more!!!

Why not just sleep on the pull out couch in the room? Well, that’s because it was currently occupied by one Misha Collins, who had flown down with Jensen and yourself from Vancouver and found himself in the same boat as you. Roomless.

Alcohol flowed as it does at cons. Too many shots were taken at the bar downstairs attached to the hotel, and Misha was allowed to pass out on the pullout to avoid a drunk Uber ride to God knows where he’d end up.

You felt Jensen’s weight shift next to you, and a low grunt leaves his lips, but he didn’t wake up. The room was stuffy, and he’d kicked the covers off an hour ago, the light coming from the still it bathroom left very little to the imagination as he shifted over to his stomach with his arms tucked under his pillow. The delicious curve of his ass on display in the loose-fitting boxer shorts, and the T-Shirt that had shoved it’s way up higher on his stomach when he rolled over, leaving that dip in his back exposed that people fangirled all over the globe.

You mentally slap yourself for drooling over your boss while he unknowingly slept next to you, and forced your eyes to focus back on the ceiling. You were finally starting to feel somewhat of tiredness pull at your subconscious, and you finally let your eyes drift close. Then you heard it. A low moan comes from the extravagantly hot man lying next to. Barely audible, but definitely a moan.

Your eyes shoot to Jensen as if someone had thrown cold water on you, but he was still laying in the same position sound asleep.

Maybe you were dreaming and didn’t realize you had fallen asleep.

Before you could pull your eyes away from his gorgeous body, his hips rolled ever so slightly, and a light moan fell from his lips again, pulling his boxers tighter against his well-formed ass from all the years of fight scene on Supernatural.

You didn’t move, fuck you barely dared to breathe as you watched him. He was seriously laying next to you having a wet dream? No way.

Your eyes shot over to Misha, who was still sound asleep, or just flat passed out, Jared had pretty much drank him under the table in a bet. He was out thankfully.

Jensen’s hips shifted again, and your eyes shot back to the scene playing out next to you as Jensen’s hips started to shifted up and down a little as he rutted himself against the mattress in his sleep, his hips finding a deep rhythm as little grunts and moans continued to fall almost inaudible from his perfect mouth.

You knew you shouldn’t watch, this was wrong, you should look away, but every woman with a pulse, and some men for that matter, wouldn't be able to look away from this. No way. Not a chance.

Jensen’s hips rolled harder, pushing himself deeper against the mattress in search of more friction, and your hand wandered into the waistband of your shorts without you even really realizing it, finding your little bundle of nerve you began to rub harsh little circles matching his pace.

“Hmph fuck,” Jensen murmured in his sleep as he continued to hump himself into the bed, and with a deeper roll of his hips, the red swollen tip of his erection slipped threw he little slit in his boxers, rolling against the mattress as Jensen continued to fuck himself into it. A bead of precum formed at the tip as he continued to swell under his own administrations, dripping onto the white sheet underneath him.

You bite down on your lower lip to suppress the moan that desperately wanted to fall from your lips as you watch him, slipping your fingers inside your shorts deeper, teasing your clenching entrancing that desperately wanted to be stretched by the man next to you.

He was fucking beautiful. His throbbing erection slipping through the opening in the front of his boxers, rolling against the bed with each push of his hips. His brow furrowed with a thin layer of sweat already forming there. His lips pouted in concentration.

With each roll of his hips against the mattress, his breath started to become a pant, and a hushed moan from a moment ago became more and more prominent.

“Y/N!” he moaned loudly, and his eyes snapped open mid-thrust against the now rooted covers that had gathered underneath him. His eyes wide with horror as embarrassment burned hot in his face. His perching green eyes locked with yours before a prominent pout formed on his beautiful face, and you were almost sure for a moment he looked as if he was going to cry from sheer embarrassment.

Quickly jerking himself back into his boxer he broke eye contact with you and made to get up out of the bed.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve never done anything like that before… I don’t… I’m sorry.”

Grabbing his pillow he made to stand up but his throbbing length strained harder against the thin fabric of his boxers, so running with dignity was out of the window, hell dignity period was out of the window. Admitting defeat he grabbed the thin sheet and threw it over his hips, covering himself with the pillow that he had in his hand for good measure, then burying his face in his hands as if he wanted to die right there.

You had two choices, you could roll over and pretend you weren’t just enjoying the show, because he’d obviously hadn’t noticed that you were, or you could shove him down on the bed, and give him the ride of his life. At this point your job was probably shot anyway, so you chose the former. He was so embarrassed that surely he’d fire you in the morning.

“It’s okay Jensen," you whisper, crawling over to his side of the bed, and moving the pillow away from his lap, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers as you ripped the sheet away.

He watched with his jaw hanging open as you slipped your shorts, and underwear down in one go before shoving him back down on the bed, shushing him as he laid back.

“Don’t make a sound,” you tell him as quietly as you can, giving Misha a quick glance to make sure he was still sleeping before taking his pulsing length in your hand, pumping him a few times before sliding down onto him.

Your mouth falls open in an inaudible moan as his back arched up to meet you as you slowly sink down onto his sizable length, and he stretches you open until you were fully seated on his lap with him inside of you, your walls already clenching around him as he bit down hard into his lips.

He was already panting again, his eyes slammed shut in an attempt to make no sound, his mouth fallen open just slightly; letting you see his perfect row of white teeth and tongue peeking out just over the edge.

When he was finally able to open his eyes again they were at least three shades darker than what they were when he’d woken up, and his fingers found your hips in a bruising grip. Slowly at first, Jensen helped you begin to move your hips. Rolling in a slow teasing motion as you both become used to the feel of each other. His thick length hitting that place deep down inside of you very few men had ever reached, his eyes watched you bodies where they were connected.

You could already feel that familiar coil winding tight in your stomach as you moved above him, pushing you to rise and fall on him faster and faster as his hips rose and fell to meet yours as you rode him.

“Fuck Y/N, I can’t, I’m about to fucking blow. Cum with me sweetheart,” he panted in a hushed whisper. Sitting up quickly he pulled your bodies tighter together as you continued to grind down on his cock, his pelvis hitting your clit at just the right angle, and before long you were a shaking mess on top of him as your walls clamped down around him, and he spilled his seed deep inside of you. Both of you held onto each other as he pushed you both through your high until you both fell back onto the bed a painting mess.

You buried your head in Jensen’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

“That was,” Jensen said in a hushed whisper as his eyes searched yours and he struggled to find the words to say.

“About fucking time,” Misha exclaimed loudly from the pullout bed across the room. Making Jensen and yourself look at each other in a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

“Now if the two of you are fucking done, I’ve got a 5 AM flight I have to be ready for in the morning.”

Jensen chucked as you buried yourself deeper into his hold, trying not to laugh hysterically because of your nerves.

“Sorry Mish, go back to sleep,” he chucked as Misha got up and made his way to the bathroom, mumbling something about Jared owing him 100 bucks.

“So, where does this leave us?” you asked Jensen the question you feared the most, and he took a deep breath, staring towards the ceiling in thought.

“Well, I can either give you a raise and call you my VERY personal assistant or I can take you out to dinner tomorrow night; and call you my girlfriend instead?”

You settle yourself down into the covers as he pulled the over the two of you with a stupid smile plastered over your face.

“You know what, dinner sounds great.”

Misha stumbles his way back to the bed, snorting in amusement. “Honestly Y/N, I would have taken the raise.”

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles smut #jensen smut #jensen x you #jensen x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter #dean winchester

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Dream A Little Dream of Me Pt. 2: Norman x Reader

-part 2 requested by anon

-kinda spicy??? because yeah but u can always skip that if u don’t like that stuff

-CHARACTERS AGED UP (so don’t call fbi on me lmaoooo)

MANGA SPOILERS/BRIEF MATURE CONTENT (at end)

WARNINGS: spicy/18+ (near the end, so you can SKIP if you’d like), arguing, death mentions, MANGA SPOILERS, etc.

Summary: It’s time to talk to Norman with Emma and Ray. Only issue is, he's not there yet, and his 'squad' is occupying his office.

PART 1

Time waited for no one. Its hands constantly ticked back and forth, once, twice, until you couldn’t recall how long you’d been staring at the clock.

The first thing you did this morning was shoot out of bed and gulp down your breakfast. There wasn’t time to idly chat or greet every single one of your family members. You had a job to do, and that was to convince Norman that this 'Seven Walls’ plan was better.

The office door stood before you like a timed bomb. It towered over you, made you feel small and helpless. What if you were too late? What if there was nothing you could do?

An uneasy smile twitched on your lips. You had to stay solid for Ray and Emma. They relied on you, and you couldn’t let them down. “Ready?”

Their eyes were bright with resolve you didn’t seem to have.

“Yes.”

“’Course!”

Why were you so nervous? Just look at them, they were so confident that Norman would listen. But of course your Norman would listen, right? He wasn’t the type to brush you off or act all high and mighty. He was sweet, considerate, and wonderful.

You sucked in a sharp breath to steel yourself. “Nor--?”

Three heads turned to stare as you opened the door. One was a woman with curly hair, another a tall guy in a suit, and the last one, a guy in a military vest.

Norman wasn’t at his desk.

The three strangers sat sprawled throughout the room. Two on either couches, and one in the back. Crumbs lay on the coffee table where stray pieces of wrapping fluttered about. A tea cup sat a little ways away from the wrappings, still steaming and piping hot. They had to have been here for quite some time. The lady raised a brow and glanced at the tall guy behind her. “Who are they?”

You and Ray kept straight faces.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Ray.” Emma tried for a wobbly smile. “I’m Emma and this is (Y/n). We come from shelter b-zero-six-three!” You glanced at your companions, then back at the three adults in your path. The lady turned to the guy behind her again and asked another question, but you weren’t listening.

What were they doing here? Most importantly, were they dangerous? Sure, Norman trusted them (they were in his office after all), but was that enough reason for you too? He was revered as a god here, you reminded yourself. It wouldn’t be out of the park if he acted differently around these people.

“Where is...the ‘Boss’ at the moment?” you respectfully inquired. The guy in the vest adjusted his position on the couch. He swung his feet off the coffee table dramatically and said, “The Boss is out of the office right now. He’s on urgent business.”

You frowned. That didn’t sound good. “We’ll come back then. Talk can wait.” you decided. “Let’s--”

The vest guy stood up and the lady followed. Your chest tightened as he slowly turned to meet your eye. “No, wait a second.” He placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder and the lady set a hand on either side of you and Emma. They smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. “Why don’t you stay for tea?” the lady inquired. They steered you over to the couch and plopped you all together one after the other.

You didn’t like where this was going. Urgent business? What could be so urgent that Norman would decide to leave so early in the morning? You folded your arms over your chest in thought.

It's been taking me a little longer than expected to set it in motion.

Norman mentioned a bit about his plan last night, but not in full detail. You recalled the brief mentions of a poison, as well as the obvious portion of genocide and degeneration of demons. But what else did he say?

I've decided to officially start tomorrow.

Your frown tightened and your fist clenched. Of course he would go out of his way to start the plan as soon as possible. He didn’t need distractions, much less people against his will. You remembered the smile he forced onto his lips. It was wry, and hollow, and fake, and everything that he wasn’t.

Fortunately, I've always been pretty good at getting what I want.

You wanted to be angry--no, livid--yet the aching in your heart said otherwise. Norman did everything in good faith. All he wanted was to save everyone without spilling a single drop of blood. But did he realise the guilt he’d have to carry once his plan was complete? Did he realise how much blood would stain his hands?

You heaved in a subtle breath to compose yourself. “So,” you began. “What did you wish to speak about?” Vest didn’t seem to welcome your presence. He planted an arm on the coffee table and leaned across with that stare that could burn straight through you.

The lady, on the other hand, sat at the edge of the couch with that giant piece of meat in her hand. You wondered if that was actually some regular type of meat. It was far too large to be a pig, much less a wild animal.

Was it just you, or were these guys kind of creepy?

“I’m Cislo,” Vest firmly announced. “That’s Barbara. That Egghead over there is Vincent.” The tall guy, or Vincent, poured three cups of tea. He silently made his way over and set them on the table. You politely nodded his way and picked up the cup, taking a good, long sip.

Until you were sure these people could be trusted, you decided it best to stay quiet.

Cislo leaned farther over the table. You instinctively took another sip of tea. “Emma, Ray, and (Y/n), right? From Grace Field?” Ray was about to answer, but Cislo interrupted. “We’re escapees too y’know!” He hastily jumped up and planted a firm foot on the coffee table. “And for the record, our escape was way better. We kicked that farm’s ass!”

You slowly nodded with false amusement. “Is that so?” Vincent adjusted his glasses almost apologetically. He was the calmest out of all his companions, as well as the most polite. “Right.” He sounded distasteful. “You guys feel the need to childishly compete all the time... Please, accept my humblest apologies.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Nah, you guys are amazing. Absolutely incredible. Show-stopping. It’s not like we could have done better, bra-vo.” You snickered behind your teacup and fist-bumped under the coffee table. He was trying to make you smile because he knew you were tense. And it worked.

You took another sip of tea and glanced over the rim. From the corner of your eye, you spotted a mark peeking out at the top of Barbara’s tank top. Norman had the same one right on his chest. These three weren’t normal people, weren’t they?

“Excuse me,” Emma said with a bright smile, “thank you so much for yesterday!” Oh right, you thought. Vincent was the the guy who treated Cristy and Dominics. “Yes,” you added. “Thank you, Vincent.” He returned Emma’s smile in a calmer manner and nodded. “The boss let me know about that. I wish the best for them.”

Emma’s smile brightened like the sun. “Thanks!”

The back of your neck tingled uncomfortably. Barbara’s stare was creepy, and it didn’t help that Cislo had joined in. Ray and Emma inched closer to your sides.

“That’s well and all,” Barbara started, “but we’d like to know!” Cislo eagerly nodded. He leaned farther across the table and you inched backward into the couch. “Yeah, how about you tell us? What you wanted to talk about with that guy...”

You raised a brow. “’That guy’?”

The air thinned out as quick as one could say ‘Quidditch’. A bashful grin broke out on Barbara’s lips and her face went red as a cherry. “The boss of course!” she cried. “Minerva James!” She said ‘Minerva James’ like he was a god. Cislo mimicked Barbara’s bashful expression. “What did you want to talk about with...Nor--‘Norman’, is what you guys called him?”

You didn’t have the strength to be question them.

“Even if you try to hide it, you idiots love the boss.” said Vincent. Barbara rolled her eyes. “Shut up! You love everything he does too!” Vincent turned to you, Ray and Emma. “Because you’re long time friends of the boss, they can’t stop themselves from being nervous.”

Ah, so these three were Norman’s fan club. You scoffed to yourself.

Cislo rounded on Barbara and Vincent with a newfound energy (seriously, where did that come from?). “I mean, aren’t you curious?” he inquired, clenching a fist in the air all dramatically. “When we came back from morning patrol, they were all making a fuss upstairs. Yesterday, the boss was a totally different person!” He clasped the sides of his head with a shout. “I thought, ‘what’s up with that’! I got super curious, and turns out, you guys are super good friends!”

Cislo stamped a foot down on the coffee table again. “What kinda guy is this ‘Norman’?” Barbara mimicked his elated expression. “Yeah, tell us!”

You glanced at Emma and she smiled as amiably as always. “Well, he hasn’t changed that much since back then.” She elbowed you. “Tell them!” You knitted your brows in confusion. “Tell them what?” She giggled and Ray playfully smirked. “That you’re his girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND?!” Cislo and Barbara screeched.

You sent Ray a subtle glare, to which he smugly shrugged off. It was clear that he purposely said that to get a kick out of Barbara and Cislo. What a total--

“So you’re his girlfriend?” Vincent questioned, casually pushing his glasses up. “I didn’t think the boss would be ‘that type’.” You raised a brow. “What do you mean by that?” Vincent smiled and it was almost playful.

“Well?” Barbara expectantly inquired, resting her chin in her palms. “What’s he like? As a boyfriend I mean?”

You thought for a moment. Norman was kind, sweet, and gentle. He knew how to cheer you up when you were down, and he was a great cook. Sometimes, he thought too much about the little things, or became secretive and changed the subject. Sure it could be troublesome to bother with that, but it was just who he was.

And you loved him for him.

“Norman is so soft and kind,” you began, “he’s smart too and smiles so sweetly. I’ve never met anyone else like him in my life.” A fond sigh left your lips that hung in the air. Just by looking at you, everyone could tell how unconditionally your love was. You were more than just his girlfriend, you were two halves of a whole.

“He smiles sweetly?” Barbara echoed. Cislo blinked in disbelief. “‘Soft’?” They glanced at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. You knitted your brows together questioningly. “Is he that different?”

“Stiff.” said Barbara.

“Cold.” answered Vincent.

“An emperor.” added Cislo.

That wasn’t a surprise to you, but for your siblings, it was earth-shattering. Ray spat out his tea and Emma let out a ‘WHAAAAAT’ that could have reached the heavens. Then Ray chuckled, and that turned into a stifled snicker.

“So he’s stiff and cold?” you muttered, placing a hand to your chin in thought. Barbara nodded. “Yeah, kind of like how you were before we started talking about the Boss.”

You almost chocked. Was it plausible that Norman took after your rock-solid façade while running this revolution? Logically speaking, it was normal, smart even, to make yourself known as an unshakable being. That was why you walked into this room full of strangers as quietly as you could. It gave you time to observe and figure out the little details in untested waters.

And because you stayed headstrong and cool, others followed your example.

Sometime in the conversation, Ray shared embarrassing stories about Norman with the occasional pitch from you or Emma. Seeing Ray and Emma smile over the old memories made you relax just a bit. It was refreshing to think about something other than fifty ways to save the world. The trivial, the peace, the mundane. Yes, you missed that.

A smile etched itself onto Barbara’s lips. “So even a long time ago, the boss was cool.” she noted. “Thanks, it was nice to hear so much about him.” You almost smiled at her. She and Cislo were nice to be around when they weren’t all up in your personal space.

“He’s a good man.” Vincent stated. “He cares for his companions.” A grin broke out onto Cislo’s lips. “Not with a sweet smile or softly though. For the sake of all of us, he works without sparing any time to sleep. He saved us and made use of this ‘power’ we all have.”

You carefully watched the way he and his companions shifted. As Cislo explained his time in Lambda, silence fell upon everyone’s shoulders. Lambda was far worse than any hell. Mass production was commonly practiced, and it worked to the benefit of the demons and doctors who worked there. Experimentation day by day. New medicine. New pills and syringes.

The very thought of that place made your skin crawl.

“He was a twleve-year-old brat,” Cislo stated. “But it was like I saw a god.”

There was that word again.

“The boss constructed a plan,” he added. “And the four of us, including Zazie, executed it. Until now, all five of us have been destroying and freeing the farms. It’s like I told you! We’re amazing.” His eyes carried a dark glint you didn’t like. “You don’t have to worry.”

Oh, but you did worry. Not just for Norman, but the world he wanted to make reality. That look Cislo shared with his companions didn’t help. It was bloodthirsty. It was dark and filled with a deep hatred that sent shivers down your spine. They wanted this revolution, this chance for revenge, and they wanted it now.

“With the boss’s perfect plan and our power, victory will definitely be ours.” Cislo stared off into a horizon you didn’t care to see. “I can’t wait to kill every last one of them.” He broadly grinned. “Every time I kill a demon, I get this real nice feeling in my chest.” Barbara stared at the bare bone in her hand. “Me too. Whenever I eat meat from demons we kicked, this nauseous feeling just goes away.”

You stared at the bone with wide eyes. That wasn’t a ridiculously large leg without a reason. Demon meat. It was demon meat.

Ray followed your gaze uneasily. “Uh...then that meat you just had was demon meat?”

“You must be surprised!” she exclaimed. “I wonder if it was an employee from that mass-production farm we slammed the other day. It makes me sick, us being cattle to them. Even now, I still can’t forget.” She gripped the bone so tighty that her knuckles turned white. “Their eyes...that pain...that agony every. Single. Day.”

She stood straight and bared her teeth. “Everyone here has the same enemy, but just killing them isn’t enough for me. I’ll slaughter them all and the Ratri clan!”

Emma pursed her lips together with wide eyes. Everyone in the room could see the blatant fear etched in her bright eyes. She worried, not just about the chaotic way Barbara pranced around with the bone, but for what was yet to come. If everyone else in the hideout were like Barbara, then would any of you stand a chance with fixing Norman’s estranged plan?

The woman’s gaze sharply flickered from yours to Emma’s. “What’s with that face?” she demanded. “Are you sympathising with the demons Emma? Aren’t you happy?”

Barbara leapt on the table. Her heel dug into the wood with an inhuman amount of strength. “I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t want to kill the demons. You’re cattle. They don’t care about you!”

She ripped her gaze from Emma’s and met your own. You kept a straight face and stared right back with stone-cold eyes. “Oh, and that ‘talk’ you wanted with the boss.... I bet you were going to spew something like ‘change the plan’, weren’t you? How dare you betray us like that? If you think you’ll change his mind just because you’re his--!”

“Barbara!” called Cislo. “Stop it, you’re breaking the table.”

“--I don’t care who you are. Demons should be exterminated! Every single one of them until we’re the only ones left!”

“Barbara!” Cislo’s eyes were cold and dark. “Stop it.” His goal wasn’t to save anyone from unnecessary conflict, only to protect the poor table under Barbara’s boot. You eyed the table uneasily. Chestnut wood splintered and peeled against itself, burying the thick demon bone in broken chips. When Barbara begrudgingly stepped off the table, a clear dent sat where her boot had been. The poor table was helpless.

Just like you.

Would convincing Norman be enough? If his followers didn’t see eye to eye with your ideals, then a new plan risked ripping the whole resistance apart.

You steadily rose from the couch and smoothed down your skirt. “Thank you for the tea and the pleasant conversation.” Your voice was silky smooth. “I think it’s time we got off your backs.” You turned to leave.

“If you’re still thinking about changing the Boss’s plan, then I believe it’s time to reconsider.” Vincent announced. “You can’t stop it, it’s too late for that.”

You paused in your step and glanced over your shoulder. For a moment, you were unrecognizable. You weren’t (Y/n) anymore, or that Grace Field kid from bunker B-zero-six-three. You were another player, another great mind in this sick game of chess.

“Is that so?” you coolly inquired. “Well it so happens that working until the very last minute is a special skill of mine. The ‘Boss’ decided to hasten this ‘perfect’ plan, yes? Where is he?”

The way you looked at everyone rubbed Vincent in the wrong way. It was like you were on a completely different level, cattle or not. You didn’t care what position you stood in because you would get it done, and for that reason, you were on a pedestal higher than Vincent and the rest.

“The Boss went to meet them,” he slowly replied, “the demons.”

You nodded in thanks. He knew that look, the one where your eyes glinted and shone with a quiet roar. There was only one other person whom you shared that look with, one other man who had those same, calculating eyes.

Yes, Vincent thought. You had the same eyes as the Boss.

-----

You hated waiting. After being on the run or constantly fighting to walk step after step, it didn’t feel natural to stand around and wait the day away for Norman to arrive. And so you sat in the hospital wing with Ray and Emma, staring at the sleeping face of Christy, who had yet to wake up.

Waiting was excruciating.

“Are you okay (Y/n)?”

You met Emma’s worried eyes. They watered with unshed tears, as if she already knew the answer even if you wouldn’t acknowledge it yourself. You forced a comforting smile to your lips and gently squeezed her hand. You had to be strong. “Don’t worry,” you said, “everything is perfectly fine.”

Ray snorted to himself. “You’re a really bad liar.” You shifted in your chair uncomfortably and slowly met his eyes. “No I’m not.” Ray huffed. “If you’re a good liar, then why did you act so cold around Vincent and the others? You only do that if you think it’s necessary, like the time we first met Yuugo.”

You shrugged absentmindedly. “Sometimes, it’s to let people know I mean business. The way Barbara talked to Emma wasn’t okay, but if I started an argument it would’ve made things worse.” Emma knitted her brows together. “So you acted distant instead?”

“Precisely.”

Ray huffed again, this time more dramatically than the last. He was about to say something else, but a voice cut through the air. Norman was back. Norman was back.

In no time, you three caught up to him in his office.

“Sorry for bothering you as soon as you got back.” you half-heartedly muttered. Ray sent you a curious glance you shrugged off. Norman kept his gaze to the window behind his desk and removed his heavy cloak. You watched the way he shifted from foot to foot. There was a sluggishness in his step so subtle that if you blinked a second too soon, you wouldn’t have seen it.

“You wanted to talk?” Norman inquired, keeping his back to the window. Emma made her way over to the couch with a nod. “Yeah, about a lot of things.” You and Ray followed, settling side-by-side. A ‘lot of things’ had to be the biggest understatement you’d ever heard. There were a few points in your new plan that needed to be addressed, and you were sure a five-minute talk wouldn’t suffice.

Ray folded his hands together. “But before that (Y/n) and I would like to know...” He sharply stared at Norman’s back. “What kind of plan do you have to ‘exterminate the demons without losing a single person’? Is it a civil war?”

Norman whipped around and snapped his fingers. “That’s right!” he exclaimed. “You both always catch on so quickly.” The way he smiled in congratulation reminded you of your time at the House.

You were eleven again. Grace Field’s forest surrounded you on all sides, and Norman and Ray stood only a little ways away from you. They were arguing about something you couldn’t quite hear, and that was because you weren’t meant to hear it in the first place. Ray had yanked Norman by the collar so harshly that he stood on his tippy toes.

You didn’t understand why Ray had been so angry. Norman was just trying to figure out the best path to safety. It was for the future of not just you, Ray, and Emma, but for your family. All of them.

Everything suddenly clicked. Ray had been angry at Norman because he had done something stupid just like now. Sure, it was smart, but was it worth the risk? Was it worth all the trouble to reach the goal he wanted?

Norman’s lips moved, but you couldn’t hear him.

Objectively speaking, his plan was genius. A civil war utilising the demon clan Giran? There wasn’t a flaw in sight. No rips to break and no disruption between each consecutive step. The Giran clan didn’t care for humans, and the humans didn’t care for the Giran. It was an equivalent exchange.

According to an old book you read, ‘humankind cannot gain anything without giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value had to be lost’.

In this case, that toll was the Giran clan. They would face their demise as soon as they clashed heads with the Regent Homes, leaving Norman and his team time to poison the helpless citizens of the Neverland.

But that wouldn’t work, not when demons like Mujika and Sonju existed.

“Norman,” you said. “Do you know about the demons who don’t regenerate despite not eating human flesh? If your plan succeeds, then you’ll have to find a way to deal with them.” Ray nodded in agreement. “Yeah, if there are a lot of demons out there who don’t need to eat humans, your plan will fail from the onset.”

The room went unbearably quiet.

Norman placed a hand over his face in thought, and it was then that you realised just how desperate he was. “How...how do you guys know about that?” You frowned. That wasn’t an answer you expected. “Why do you say that?”

Norman began by explaining the differences in demon social statuses, then the whole ‘hunt’ for this ‘Evil Blood Maiden’, or Mujika. “They don’t know how we’ll revolt,” Norman thoughtfully said. “And it would be trouble for them if we got caught by the Ratri clan since you know their whereabouts.”

He paused.

“We need to track down and kill them.”

Your heart stopped. Kill Mujika and Sonju? You couldn’t do that. They saved your family when you all could have been left for the wild demons to eat you alive. They taught you all how to survive and thrive when you were all alone.

“Wait!” cried Emma. “Sonju and Mujika are our friends! They’re fine--they're our saviours--our friends! If we used their blood, then we wouldn’t have to worry about...about...” You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to Norman. His eyes danced with a dangerous light.

“I agree with Emma. Not just because they haven’t done anything wrong, but because they could be the solution.” You wrung your hands together. “Your plan is perfect, I admit. It doesn’t have a single flaw, but it’s not...right. We’ve thought of something that could work, something that doesn’t involve killing everyone.”

That look in Norman’s eye intensified. It held a quiet flame, yet burned brighter than any fire could. “Who’s to say what’s right and wrong?” he slowly inquired. “(Y/n), you know full well that this world isn’t as simple or kind as any of us hoped it to be. They’re demons, right?”

You saw Cislo and Vincent and Barbara in his eyes. They all had that same look, that same hatred for their hunters. But if only they saw what you saw. If only they hadn’t been to Lambda and met Mujika and Sonju instead.

“Don’t you think we should close our mouths and watch them go extinct?” Norman grimly added. “Do you think you can forgive them for what they’ve done?”

No, you couldn’t forgive them. Not after seeing Conny’s body in the back of the truck. Not after what happened to Yuugo and Lucas and all your other friends. The demons made you and your family suffer.

Your throat constricted.

You almost died by their hand more times than you could count too! But how could you blame them? How could you hate them all from the bottom of your heart when you saw the vast majority for what they really were?

Your fist clenched.

Demons had families too. Just like you. They struggled to survive. Just like you. They did nearly anything to make sure their kind lived to see another sunrise. Just like you. Most demons ate to live. Just like you.

You shot out of your seat and threw a hand out. “You can’t kill a whole race!”

Norman’s eyes widened. It was rare for you to lose your cool, much less, shout during a conversation. This time, you couldn’t do that, not when Emma’s eyes were sad and glossy, and not when Ray relied on you to make the right decision.

You paused and thickly swallowed, gingerly fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“You can’t just...you can’t just kill a whole race.” you echoed. “That’s genocide. Will you be able to sleep knowing that your hands will be stained with the blood of thousands? Millions?! History always repeats itself no matter where you go or what world you escape to! Why do we have to take vengeance when we could be the bigger people? Genocide won’t bring back the dead and it won’t solve anything either!”

“(Y/n),” Norman muttered, intertwined his hands with yours. “Has this been on your chest the whole time?” You nodded and he looked at you like you were far away. “Even if we do give the demons their blood, what guarantee will we have that they won’t come eat us anyway? The king and nobility have been doing this for the past seven hundred years, the same goes for Giran.”

He released your hands and averted his gaze to the splintered coffee table. “If you were told not to eat (f/f), would you say, ‘understandable, have a great day’? You might have that self-control, but the demons don’t because they can’t sympathise with us. We are the prey, and they are the hunters.”

You heaved in a deep breath to steel yourself. “Then let’s run away, all of us beyond the Seven Walls to reforge the Promise!” Norman’s jaw went slack and he stared at you, baffled to silence. “Even though we don’t know what the human world has to offer? We don’t know if they’ll accept us or if we’ll have safe entry. How can you bet everyone’s fate on that?”

Norman eyed the way you tightly gripped the hem of your skirt. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if what he was about to say would be the hardest thing he’s ever. “(Y/n),” he softly said. “You have to think realistically. Genocide or not, the world doesn’t care about what’s right or wrong. You, more than anyone, should know that.”

He was right again. You knew how cruel the world was because you were able to keep needless emotions from rushing to your head. You were cynical. You were tough. But that was only because you needed to be for your family. They looked up to your strength and your decisive decisions that always led them to victory.

“If we don’t wipe out the demons,” Norman stated, “there won’t be a future where our family can smile.”

You firmly shook your head. “No, that’s no true. Ray said the same thing when we were at Grace Field, didn’t he? He thought only you, Emma, and I would be able to escape, but in the end, we took all the older kids with us. We survived this long, not because we cared about probabilities, but because we saw the path before us!” You needed him to understand--no, you were begging him to. “It’s there, so why can’t you...why can’t you see what I’m seeing?”

Norman silently stood. His gaze left your own as he placed a hand to his chin in thought. “I don’t see any hope in this plan,” he honestly stated, “but for the sake of this argument, let’s concede and say that we can cross over to the human world and so on.”

You heaved out a relieved sigh. At least he was considering.

“Even then, the part about the Seven Walls is unclear.” He continued to explain a few different points, some you could dispute and others you had no answer to. But by the end of it, you were feeling great. There was hope.

“We’ve already found a way to reach the Seven Walls a year and a half ago.” you matter-of-factly said. “We have everything we need, and when the conditions are met, we can go at anytime.” Norman’s jaw dropped. “You--you found it?”

You nodded. “Yes. But like you said, there are a lot of uncertainties, so if you still need more constants before stopping the plan, then I’ll go and figure out the rest.” Norman’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

You intertwined your hands with his and gave them a good squeeze. “If I come back and reforge the Promise, then you will have no choice but to stop the extermination of all demons.” He knitted his brows together in alarm. “Wait a minute.... What is this about ‘if’ you come back?”

“Regarding the risks,” Ray noted, “right now, we’re only aware of two things. We know how to get in, but not how to get out. It appears that most who went there never returned so--”

“WHAT?!” Norman cried, staring between you, Emma, and Ray. “What kind of crazy--that’s too dangerous!” You gently patted his cheek. “Well, if I don’t go, then you’ll have to carry a burden too big for your weak shoulders, right?” You giggled and it was like music to his ears. “We talked about this yesterday, and we’re all ready to go.”

Norman gave your hands a shake. “How does that make it okay?!” You offered a comforting smile. “If the first Ratri did it, then so can we. Even though we don’t know it now, we’ll find it. We want to stop this extermination, right?”

Emma and Ray nodded.

“So let us carry a bit of your burden.” A brief frown settled on your lips that didn’t slip past Norman’s line of view. “I told you this once and I’ll say it again: You don’t have to be a god and you don’t have to do everything on your own either. We’re here, right? So rely on us.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle and pulled him close. “And for the record,” you whispered, “I know you’re hiding something.” Your breath fanned across his neck and he shivered. “You’re such a naughty boy, you know that?” You pulled away.

Norman’s wide eyes narrowed deviously as a soft smile rose on his lips. He made his way over to Emma and Ray, patting their shoulders amiably. “Be careful. I can count on you all to take care of each other, right?”

“Of course.” said Ray.

“No duh, Norman.” Emma added.

“What she said.” you pitched in.

Norman’s smile warmed as he led Emma and Ray towards the door. “That’s great to hear,” he said. “I promise to bring (Y/n) back before dinner.” Ray’s brows shot up. He let out a small ‘oooo’ and steered Emma out of the office at the speed of light. “We’ll stay out of your way then.”

The door creaked close and the lock clicked in place. Norman slowly turned to meet your eye. “What was that you said earlier?” he lowly inquired, loosening his tie. “About me being a ‘naughty boy’?” It was hard to fight the heat spreading throughout your body when he looked at you like that. Like you were a glass of water to quench his thirst. Butterflies rose in your stomach and your breath caught in your throat.

He was so alluring, so freaking hot that it made you freeze in place. Norman’s lips twitched up into a sly smirk, and it was then that you realised he was enjoying this.

Norman liked the way you got all flustered. He liked the way your cheeks flared up with red. And he loved the way you struggled to keep a straight face. There was mischievous glint reflecting in his eyes as he placed his tie on the couch and strode right over to you.

Gosh, you wanted--no--needed him. Now.

You were practically panting for air and Norman hadn’t even laid a finger on you. He set your heart ablaze with a single glance and knew how to make you feel all lightheaded in the best way possible.

You paused in your step and your back hit the wall. Gosh dang it, why did you fall for that again?

"You can't think straight." Norman noted, caressing your cheek. "But that's okay. You're always in good hands." Your breath hitched and Norman chuckled. It was low, it was attractive, it was hot. How could a cutie like him act like this when you were alone? Not even you could have expected this type of unexpected, not that it mattered though. After all, Norman knew how to treat you right.

“You’re so adorable.” he said, resting a cool hand on your thigh. “I wonder what will happen if I...?” You shivered under his light touch. How dare he act so cool. How dare he make you gasp and lean further back into the wall. His touch made your cheeks burn and your lower regions go warm. He gave your thigh a squeeze just to watch you gasp again.

"N-Norman..." you moaned.

He smiled.

"You like that, don't you." His breath fanned across your cheeks. "You won't be able to stay quiet for long. I'll make sure of it." He leaned into you and your lips connected. The kiss was sweet and warm, but far from innocent. The bastard knew exactly how to make your knees buckle and your breath hitch. Somehow, it made you want more of him.

He bit at your lip and you yanked him closer. Kissed him harder.

Norman found himself snaking a hand under your shirt. He trailed over your sides with a gentle touch that made your back arch and your insides tingle. You liked it--no, you loved it. To have his hands on you and his body practically glued to you...

What more could you ask for?

Norman placed a hand on the top of your collar. "May I?" You nodded and he skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. As he pulled it over your shoulders, you squeezed your thighs together. You were wet. That much you just knew.

"Am I that irresistible?" Norman inquired. He didn't let you respond. Instead, he undid the clasp on your bra and gave your breasts a good flick. Norman watched the way you breathily inhaled.

You were so, so beautiful. An absolute masterpiece.

He experimentally fondled your breasts, squeezing and groping. If it could get any hotter in here, then you were sure it would've been a hundred degrees.

He didn't seem to mind though. Instead, he sucked in a short breath with a satisfied smile, as if your moans were the only thing he wanted to hear.

Norman's lips slammed into yours. He licked your bottom lip and you moaned. Moaned. Norman's cheeks reddened. He suddenly realised just how far he had gone. In the heat of the moment, none of you were able to register the fact that you were half-naked, or that Norman was dominant as fuck.

Don’t forget to reblog (do it for Norman!)

"You have such a gorgeous voice,” Norman slyly said. "Can you do that again?"

PART THREE

TIP JAR

#plz reblog #i'm begging at this point #do it for norman #tpn #tpn manga #yakusoku no nebarando #ynn norman #tpn norman #tpn ray #ynn ray #ynn emma #tpn emma #the promised neverland x reader #I'M SORRY OKAY #but like y'all #read pt 1 so like #ur also thirsty #the promised neverland

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delaber · 3 years

Text

Chipped

Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: I love when you send me prompts 😭 I asked for angst and you delivered! Thanks to all the lovely anons and to @theatrenerd86 of course!

Words: 3K

Warnings: fist fight 🙃

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

The minute you stepped in the door, everything changed. Time seemed to slow down. The music became distorted. Rafa could've sworn that the lights dimmed considerably. The billiard ball rolling in slow motion in front of him suddenly wasn't as exciting anymore. All he could focus on was you and the heavy heartbeat in his chest.

You looked around the room, shot him a small wave from afar and headed straight for the bar as his senses seemed to return to normal, time speeding up again.

You'd shown up to the party late and even though Rafa had only seen you from a distance, it was obvious to him that something was wrong - again. Even though you had held your head up high, your confident body language was outshone by the fake smile and the sadness in your eyes. Rafa watched your squared shoulders as you poured yourself a drink while trying to look brave. And although you were doing a splendid job pretending everything was alright, he didn't believe a second of it. You had never been able to keep anything from him. He knew you too well.

"Are you seeing this too?" Diggs mumbled as he had also noticed the way you were carrying yourself.

"Yeah," Rafa breathed as he looked at you wipe away a small tear, the smile still broad on your lips. His heart was aching in his chest. It hurt seeing you hurt.

"What are we guessing?" Diggs continued in a quiet mumble, "Rob?"

"Definitely Rob," Rafa said darkly. Of course you were crying because of your asshole fuckboy of a boyfriend. The biggest fucking clown to ever walk the face of the earth. Mr Dickbag himself. Rafa's nemesis.

Rafa and Diggs had absolutely hated Rob from the minute you had introduced him to them - not only because the man was absolutely no good, but also because he had come out of nowhere, pulling you away from Rafa at the worst possible time. Before Rob, you and Rafa had - much to Rafa's satisfaction - flirted quite heavily. Hell, on special occasions, Rafa had even been granted access to your bed! But from the moment you had met Rob, everything had been about him, and Rafa had been degraded to being your old buddy again. ...And he absolutely fucking hated it! And he hated fucking Rob for stealing you away. Fucking Rob with his fucking stupid hipster haircut and his fucking badass Michael K Williams scar.

"We should go talk to her," Diggs said quietly, and put down the billiard cue without looking away from you.

"Yeah, I'll see what I can do," Rafa answered without really paying attention to Diggs.

"You? Alone?" Diggs arched an eyebrow at Rafa, "are you sure that's a good idea? Last time you nearly broke them up."

"That's still the plan," Rafa sent his friend a challenging look, "or do you want him to continue breaking her heart?"

"Of course not. You're just... partial," Diggs sent Rafa an equally challenging look. He was all for you and Rafa getting together, but he also knew that Rafa was in neck-deep water.

"Shut up, dude. I know what I'm doing," Rafa mumbled and started walking towards you with determined footsteps before Diggs could stop him.

"Don't stir shit up!" He heard Diggs yell behind him.

Rafa ignored his best friend and took a few brisk steps towards you before he was standing by your side. You were pouring yourself half a glass of tequila, downing it in one go.

"Hey..." he smiled when he caught your eye.

"Rafa!" You jumped a little at the surprise of suddenly having him in your face, "hey. How are you?" You poured yourself another tequila, your fake smile still broad on your lips. You hoped he hadn't noticed your rather weird mood.

"Better than you it seems..." Rafa eyed the contents of your plastic cup.

"Is it that obvious?" You shot him a look.

"You're drinking tequila as if it was water..." He leaned in close and spoke quietly so only you could hear, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," you lied, "I wouldn't want to ruin your night," you said quietly. The truth was that you actually did want to talk about it. Maybe with Jasmine or Emmy - but definitely not with Rafa of all people! You already knew how he would react; he hated Rob and would go absolutely ballistic.

"You could never ruin my night," Rafa smiled softly. "Come," he said and grabbed your hand, tugging you along. You followed him hesitantly but ended up sitting down next to him on a small bench outside the house, determined not to tell him a thing. However, as he immediately put his arm around you and pulled you close, the treacherous tears started welling up in your eyes the second you felt his hand caressing you.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Yes. I'm just having a really shit night," you mumbled while wiping away an annoying tear.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm okay," you croaked, trying to keep him away.

Of course Rafa didn't believe you, and in a matter of seconds, his expression changed dramatically, "Did Rob hurt you? If he hurt you, I swear to God I will kill him!"

You looked over at Rafa whose nostrils were flared, clearly already angry at the scene he had set in his own mind without even knowing if Rob was involved or not.

"He didn't hurt me, Rafa. Stop jumping to conclusions just because you don't like him..."

"So this has nothing to do with Rob?" Rafa arched an eyebrow at you.

There was no way back now. You knew that Rafa would do absolutely anything in his power to get you to tell him about what had happened. You shot him a sideways glance, trying to determine how angry he was before you admitted to Rob's deeds. "It's Rob, alright - but he didn't do anything on purpose."

Rafa clenched his jaws shut and curtly said, "just tell me what happened."

"Promise me you won't hate him..." you whispered while biting your lip.

"No. What did he do?!" Rafa demanded through gritted teeth.

"He - uhm -" you considered shooting Rafa a lie but knew that he would see right through you immediately. Eventually, you decided to tell him the truth even though you knew nothing good would come of it; "Rob - uh - accidentally kissed someone else last night," you mumbled quietly while carefully examining Rafa's face. He looked as if he could punch something so to diffuse the situation, you quickly added, "- but he feels really bad about it and he told me everything straight away!"

"He cheated on you?" Rafa tried to say as calmly as he possibly could although he was doing a horrendous job. Of all the terrible things Rob had ever done to you, this one definitely took the cake.

"He didn't do it on purpose!" You added quickly, "Please don't be mad at him!"

"Why are you defending him?" Rafa said desperately. His face was distorted, his eyes livid, "He cheated on you! Tell me you broke it off with him!"

"He didn't do it on purpose. He's been going through some stuff lately and he told me that he feels terrible about it..."

"Good!" Rafa said angrily and gritted his teeth, "fucking suits him right. Say the word and I'll deck him in his smug face!"

"Stop trying to save me, I can handle myself! This has absolutely nothing to do with you..."

"I'm the one who has to see you like this," he said softly.

You shot Rafa a look, "you pulled me aside!"

"Yes! Because I see right through your fake smile - and it hurts to see you like this!"

"Rafa, I didn't ask for you to take care of it."

"You'd do the same for any of your friends. I don't know why you can't see that he's bad for you!"

"It's just a rough patch! I know he loves me, he's just been stressed lately."

"Are you not listening to what you're saying right now?" Rafa desperately pulled at his hair, "The guy made out with another girl and you're excusing it? You should be livid!"

"I am livid," you shot Rafa a hard look, "why else do you think I'm sitting out here, talking to you about it? If I didn't care that he kissed someone else, I would obviously be inside right now, enjoying myself!"

"If you're truly upset about it, don't excuse his behaviour! Break up with him! He's toxic as fuck!"

"Would you stop that?!" You said sternly, "I know you aren't his biggest fan but he's my boyfriend."

"Why are you even with him? He's a fucking low life!"

"He's a low life?" You said in a shrill voice, not able to hold back anymore, "as opposed to whom, Rafa? To you?"

"As opposed to anyone!" Rafa spat, "why can't you see that there are so many guys out there who are a million times better than fucking Robert Havert?!"

Rafa's words hit a little too close to home and you got really angry with him, "you really want to go there?" You couldn't help yourself.

"Go where?" Rafa shot you an irritated look

"Riddle me this, Rafa; do you by any chance consider Rob competition?"

"No," Rafa said curtly, looking away from you.

You crossed your arms and tapped your foot, "really? Because you've been sending me some weird fucking signals lately while trying to break me and Rob up."

Rafa's feelings were bubbling inside him and before he could stop himself, he spat, "Of course I consider him competition! Isn't it obvious that I'm in love with you?! You and I had something special before he came along and corrupted you!"

"He didn't corrupt me!" You answered through gritted teeth.

"Why did you turn your back on me then?" Rafa said loudly, his voice breaking. He instantly looked ashamed of himself. He obviously hadn't meant to show you so much of his emotions.

"Because I fell in love with Rob! ...What you and I had was a mistake..." you desperately cried out, "sleeping together was obviously a mistake!"

"If it was a mistake, why did it happen three times?" Rafa spat angrily before his eyes became glossy. He was panting hard, his face all screwed up, "please don't regret me," he croaked, his chest aching horribly, "you can't be serious..."

"Of course I don't regret you, Rafa. But we would've never worked out."

"...Because of him?" He shot you a dark look, his chest heaving up and down.

"No, Rafa," you desperately put your hands on him trying to calm him down, "Because you're you and I'm me. We've been friends for ages."

"I don't want to be friends," Rafa whispered before he angrily looked away from you.

"Rafa, honey," you whispered while searching his face, "I love you - but not like that..." you put your forehead to his. Your hands were now on his chest and you could feel the heavy heartbeat through his shirt. "I'm sorry if I-" Your words were drowned by a car door slamming hard and a voice behind you yelling loudly; "Step away before I punch you in fucking the face, Casal!"

Rob was coming at you and Rafa at full speed, an aggressive look in his eyes. You let go of Rafa as if you'd been scorched by fire and ran to your boyfriend, trying to stop him from beating up your friend. You hadn't told Rob about you and Rafa's escapade but Rob had long ago figured out that Rafa was into you - and you knew that he had been looking for every excuse to fight it out with him.

"Everything's fine, baby," you tried, "Rafa didn't do anything. We were just talking. Everything's fine, I swear!"

Rob's eyes were huge, his nostrils flared as he gently pushed you aside and went head to head with Rafa, "what the fuck are you doing, Casal?! Are you trying to get with my girl?"

"I'm protecting her from you."

"And you plan on doing that by hooking up with her?"

Rafa stood up straight, trying to make himself a few inches taller, "I plan on doing that by actually showing her some emotional support!"

"Don't fucking touch what isn't yours!" Rob was snarling angrily.

"Rich coming from you," Rafa said calmly with a small growl, "do you feel like a big man when you cheat on your girl?"

Rafa's choice of words had Rob shooting him a sickening smile, "that's right, Casal," Rob smiled humourlessly "she's my girl. Not yours. And you know what? She never will be yours. You will never get to touch her, to kiss her, to fuck her. She will never want you. I know you've been dying to experience it but you will never get to see her with your cock in her mouth," he said devilishly.

"Rob!" You interjected, disgusted with how your boyfriend was talking.

Rafa couldn't help himself. He knew he would be disloyal to you and that it would escalate the situation immensely, but he was desperate to wipe away Rob's stupid grin so he too smiled before he calmly said, "oh, you don't think I know what she looks like with my cock in her mouth?"

"Rafa!" You hissed loudly from behind your boyfriend.

Rob's smug face fell considerably and although Rafa could hear the disappointment in your voice, he continued, "what? She didn't tell you?"

In a matter of seconds, Rob's face went from red to purple. He took a firm grip in the collar of Rafa's shirt and plunged his head forwards. Rob's forehead hit Rafa's face with a sickening crunch, and Rafa staggered backwards but was on his feet not long after, decking Rob in the face with his closed fist.

"Please stop!" you pleaded them and tried to pull them apart, but Rob punched Rafa in the stomach, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud when all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Rob plunged forward, put a leg on either side of Rafa and started hitting him repeatedly.

Rafa was desperately trying to defend himself against the rain of fists that were coming at him, but was so busy trying to avert Rob, that he didn't have the ability to fight back. Luckily, Rob was grabbed from behind by two guys that hurled him backwards and off of Rafa. Rob unsuccessfully fought to wrestle himself free from Oak and Anthony'a grips while yelling, "I'm going to break your fucking skull!"

Meanwhile Rafa, who was now back on his feet, was trying to wrestle himself out of Diggs' grip, responding with a "I'd like to see you try, you fucking pussy!"

As Rob and Rafa were trying to fight the men off of them, you stepped in, "what the hell is the matter with you two?" you bellowed.

Rob looked as if he had almost forgotten you were there, the sound of your voice immediately making him stop squirming in Anthony and Oak's arms as he looked at you. Ant and Oak released their grip on him, and instead of flying towards Rafa, Rob took a few deep breaths, his eyes piercing through you as he tried to calm himself down.

"How about breaking my skull now?" Rafa yelled at him while squirming around in Diggs arms hoping to break free.

Rob's gaze flew towards Rafa, while Oak and Anthony took a step closer, ready to punch him to the ground if he tried anything. Rob felt the two men nearing him and looked as if he had only just realised that if he jumped Rafa again, he would have to deal with Oak, Ant, and Diggs too. He took an ultimate decision and with a last look at you, he huffed, turned on his heel and angrily walked away with balled up fists.

Diggs loosened his grip on Rafa who immediately ran to you, "are you okay?" He almost yelled, his voice laced with concern, "I'm so, so sorry you had to see that!"

You looked up at him with a dark expression, "how fucking dare you!" You started out in a whisper but your voice gradually became louder as your tone changed to anger, "how dare you talk about me like that! As if I'm some conquest that you brag about to your mates!"

"I know I'm sorry," Rafa panted, avoiding your gaze, "Heat of the moment."

"Rafa look at me," you searched his face, "this is over," you said slowly, painfully aware that you were breaking his heart in front of his friends.

"It's over?" He looked as if he didn't understand what you were saying.

"We can't see each other anymore. It's over!"

"What? You're choosing that clown over me? What does he have that I don't?"

"Rafa why can't you see that you're just as big of a clown as he is!"

"...what the fuck are you talking about?!" He panted desperately, "I'm just trying to make you realise that he's a dick! I'm helping you. He's treating you like shit!"

"I don't need or want your help. What I want is for you to stay the fuck away from me," you said angrily giving him a small shove. With one last look back at Rafa, you turned on your heel and desperately ran towards your boyfriend who had almost reached his car.

Rafa watched you chase after Rob. He watched you desperately explain the situation to him. Watched you apologise of all people. Watched Rob take you in his arms as if he was the one who had to forgive you. He watched you kiss Rob's cheek before you started crying. Rafa's heart was aching horribly. He almost couldn't stand still.

He watched you get in Rob's car, kiss the man passionately before he pumped the speeder, sending Rafa a smirk as you once again kissed his cheek. Rafa painfully watched you drive away and all he was left behind with was a black eye, a chipped tooth, and a broken heart.

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys #they gon fight #heartbreak

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years

Note

(sees another fandom that I can ask you about and cheers) Orphan Black! Thoughts? I don't know Dr Who but Tatiana is one of my favorite actors period.

Anon you are so sweet! I'm always happy to chat about fandoms and characters and whatnot, and I will never not appreciate the majesty of Tatiana's acting. That is one of the greatest parts of the show hands down.

Orphan Black, to me, is a show that had incredible potential, but didn't really live up to the excitement it created. (Loooong post ahead.)

The thing is, Orphan Black builds a chilling mystery and background, the world it gradually creates as it goes for about the first two seasons, got be very invested and made me wonder a lot about where it was going to go and what the answers were. The setup is brilliant, right from the start with that iconic cold open of Beth's suicide. The unknown is what really helped this show get as thrilling as it was, because the actual answers behind the unknown were kind of hit and miss, and it seemed like far too often, the show just wasn't interested in telling it's story. Hijinks where the clones impersonate each other in slice of life events? That's fun at first and it really works well as they're still getting to know each other. But after a while, it gets tedious, and it seems like the show would rather fuck around and have dance parties (seriously, that scene was such a #BigLippedAlligatorMoment) than focus on the story and the threat that the sisters are facing. Virtually all of Allison's plotlines are like this, they feel like they belong in a different show, and for some reason the writers insisted on giving her one of these storylines like, every season. After Allison passively murders her own friend out of suspecting that she's spying on her, I just don't feel like an arc about her running for some PTA office position even matters. It doesn't feel right.

Speaking of that, here's another example: Donnie. Why did the end of the first season suggest that he was this secret mastermind working for Leekie? The whole idea just deflates in Season 2 and doesn't really go anywhere. He just goes back to being the bumbling sweetheart he was before. Why even have him be the spy? Maybe it should have been Ainsley. Do you want to know the exact moment that I think Orphan Black went wrong? Like, the specific scene? When Leekie was killed off. The character who had thus far been the Big Bad, gets taken out in the stupidest possible way, a literal accident on Donnie's part, and it's even played for laughs. After that point, the show really struggled to regain it's footing, though I don't think it completely went off the rails until about Season 4, and it was still generally hit or miss. Like, some stuff was really good. The introduction of the Castor clones, the development of Rachel's character (I'll get to her, trust me.) and the reveal of Kendall Malone. But it seemed like so much else was just forgotten or otherwise not resolved. Whatever happened to Cal? Sure, the show wanted to focus on the sisters...but Kira deserves to know her father if she wants to. That's just one example. It's a crying shame because this show is sometimes incredible. The metaphor that I always use for situations like this, is a card game. The show has all the right cards in its hand, they're just not being played.

The two strongest characters, at least to me, were Rachel and Helena. One of these characters was superbly written and went through a devastating arc. The other was Helena. We need to talk about her. In Season 1, she really cemented herself as a memorable presence with her trademark accent, her scars, her whole damn personality (again, hats off to Tatiana) and of course, that iconic screechy theme music that accompanied her. Which at first made us jump, but eventually made us cheer. I adored Helena, and I loved the development of her relationship with Sarah. Who went from shooting her in Season 1, to being deadset on rescuring her in Season 3, being furious with Siobhan for betraying her. (This is unrelated but Siobhan has the same " twist villain fakeout" at the end of Season 1 that Donnie does, and it's quite frustrating.) And yet, I swear, the writers just didn't know what to do with Helena half the time. They put her on a bus for long stretches, including one point where she just up and leaves Allison's house in Season 4, for no given reason. And the characters just kind of...don't care. The same thing happens when she gets arrested. No one cares to try and find Helena, even though she's unstable and often a danger to those around her. Even though she's by herself with no real ability to function in society. Even though she's pregnant. There is no excuse for this, and no Sarah, that "I'm sorry, I avoided you" scene in Season 5 is not going to cut it. It's such an afterthought.

I'm being rather critical, but I hope you can tell that this is from a point of passion. I genuinely enjoyed this show and getting to watch it. Just that sometimes it didn't feel like the show cared that I was watching. However, this was not true whenever Rachel was onscreen. Look, I'm a Merula Snyde stan, so you can probably already guess how I feel about Rachel. Despite her crimes, despite her constant slipping back the dark side, I felt so bad for Rachel at the end of it all. That scene with Kira really sums it up. "Who hurt you?" "All of them." And no scene is more intense than when she stabs out the eye cam. Like, I'm sorry, I pitied Rachel pretty much from Season 2 on. Her parents were horrible to her, and I'm supposed to think Ethan is the good guy here? He kills himself in front of his own daughter, telling her that she doesn't deserve him. And then Sarah shoots a pencil through her eye, causing brain damage and requiring a long recovery. I'm not saying that Sarah was wrong to do what she did, just that if I were in her shoes, I'd still feel a degree of guilt for Rachel's condition. In the end, I'm devastated that she was barred from Clone Club, when she made the right decision at the point it mattered. But there's just too much history there, and Sarah won't ever forgive her. (Though again, I do feel as though there's blame to share.) Rachel is my favorite character and I never expected her to be. But she's just so complex. Side note: "Enjoy your oophorectomy" is so damn quotable. I don't know why but I love that line.

So, Rachel's my favorite. Who's my least favorite? It might surprise you. It's Delphine. I'm sorry, but I just...I couldn't get on board with C*phine. Not after Season 3. I was waiting for the point that the show would push to finally redeem Delphine for her turncoat role, for all of the hell that she put Cosima through. By Season 5 though? I realized that as far as the writers were concerned? She already was redeemed. Even though she did nothing to earn it, except be presumed dead by Cosima. The way she treats Cosima in Season 3 is actually disgusting. Her reasoning for breaking up with Cosima is circular. She has to love "all the clones" in order to be with Cosima, and the way to do that is to take over Rachel's job, which means they can't date anymore? I'm not the only one who thought that didn't make sense, right? Oh and let's talk about how she stalks Cosima's date, breaks into her house, and threatens her life. Red. Flags. Cosima even says the line, "If you're not going to be with me, just let me go." I'm sorry, that should not be something she has to beg for. Delphine's behavior made me want her to stay far, far away from Cosima. Who is, incidentally, a sweetie and I absolutely adore her. I legit have trouble remembering that Tatiana's playing her because she just looks and acts so different. That said, even though I immensely disliked Delphine, I am so very glad that they made one of the clones gay. Just like I'm glad that they made one of them trans. (Though...Tony wasn't handled especially well.)

In general, I do think the earlier seasons were stronger. The Brightborn arc, while interesting, didn't really contribute much to the overarching narrative. We got the backstory on Beth's suicide and finally learned the truth about her, I suppose. Still, even though Beth is one of my favorite of the clones, and I never expected her to be either...I feel like the actual reason given for why she took her own life was rather illogical. She apparently did it because the investigation was putting the clones in danger of another Helsinki. Okay, but just because Evie Cho says you should off yourself, doesn't mean you have to. You could just, like...stop investigating. And if you die under mysterious circumstances without explaining anything to the sisters, they're not going to be put off from the investigation. They're going to look into this even more, because they don't know why they're not supposed to. The reveal that she and Art fell in love toward the end adds an extra gut punch, but it also doesn't make sense because wouldn't Art have referenced it during the period that he thought Sarah was Beth? On the other hand, Season 4 also introduced MK. And I have such a soft spot for her. I adore that sheep-masked sweetie. Everyone always asks "Which clone would you date" (because fandoms can think of nothing else I guess) and I never see anyone give any love to MK. Her death absolutely tore me apart. I am glad Siobhan avenged her even if she went down at the same time. Side note, her last word being the affectionate "Chickens..." Broke me.

Season 5 was a strange beast. In general, it seemed like we were finally getting some answers to the questions that were hanging over us. Exploring the deep mythos. But then they kind of turned it around and made it just be a Wizard of Oz style fraud twist. Westmoreland isn't really inhumanly old, he's a charlatan. I don't know why that was necessary in a science fictional show. I've seen the interviews and I get what they were going for, it just feels like it would have been cooler and far creepier if he was actually that old. The puppet master pulling the strings the whole time. We also finally get some answers for Kira's superhuman healing abilities (though we never learn how she's telepathically connected to the clones) and I'm loving it, but the trouble is, it's inconsistent. Ethan "Why is this guy so popular, he's an asshole" Duncan told Rachel specifically that Sarah being able to have children was a fluke, that the clones were "barren by design." I don't know, the whole concept of Revival and of the "magical island" was really foreboding and tied in with the earlier references to The Island of Doctor Moreau. Especially that song about "Revival's Children" just...the shudders, man. But just having it be a regular old scam is...a letdown. I know it may be more realistic, but I don't always need realism in my scifi. The finale is interesting, in that it's mostly an epilogue. I'm glad the clones (sans Rachel) got to live happily ever after, but there are two gut punches right at the end that are total nitpicks but they bother me. Helena naming her kids after Art and Donnie? And writing a memoir that she names "Orphan Black?" Those two tropes can go die in a hole. They can enjoy an oophorectomy, because I'm so sick of them.

The potential of Orphan Black was practically infinite. The results of Orphan Black fell frustratingly short.

#Orphan Black #Alison Hendrix #Rachel Duncan #Helena Orphan Black #Sarah Manning #Cosima Niehaus #Long Post #Beth Childs #Ramblings #Veera Suominen #Donnie Hendrix #Aldous Leekie #Ethan Duncan #Delphine Cormier #Siobhan Sadler #Clone Club #Arthur Bell #Tatiana Maslany

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sukunas-play-thing · 4 years

Text

Keigo Takami(Hawks) xFem!Reader

A/N: This.This sinful display was solely created for pure filth and depravity. I'm so horny for this Bird that I am literally. Writing a fic about fucking him, his ankles. And wings. Yes you heard me. Inspiration hit while talking to @lady-bakuhoe and she fully supported this. Also, real quick to that anon that sent me hate, including @makoodles rather you're the same anon or nah. We talk to each other. Remember that next time you send hate. this is a big fuck you to you. Because we don't need that negativity. How Dare you attack ppl under the ruse of Jo's name she kept apologizing to me because of YOU. So yeah Fuck you. And to those still reading this. I love you. And enjoy this Hawks smut. Y'know ya want it;)

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Warning: heavily NSFW content, ankle play (possible foot fetish?), wing play, orgasm denial, degradation, minor phone play?, body worship, cock warming, blow jobs, palming, choking, bondage. Whelp. Think that's it for that.

Description: You and the № 2 hero suffer great sexual frustration due to lack of personal time together, constantly rescheduling, a lot of late nights lying in bed waiting for him to come home safe. You've finally. Had enough.

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Hawks x Fem!Reader

°Human Anatomy °

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"I'm sorry baby. I love you-"

you deleted the voice message Keigo left you on your answering machine. This is the fourth -no FIFTH time he had to reschedule your date. And you were out right floored with anger. And it wasn't even Keigo's fault. "Stupid hero society. Stupid villains." You muttered to no one in particular as you could literally taste the acid in your mouth. If you saw anyone other than Hawks in this moment. You Would, could and will literally. Spit acid and burn through your humiliation and anger. Tossing your keys on a nearby vanity, throwing your coat on the ground you stomped off to the only place you could feel tranquil and relaxed. A long, scolding hot bubble bath with good tunes playing. You could cry. Thinking of the last time you two even had sex. Of course you shame yourself for being so selfish. It truly wasn't his fault, and you were not about to complain about him not having time for you, because it's just that. His job. His life's work. You went into this relationship fully respecting, and understanding exactly what you were getting yourself into. It took you years just to get Hawks in your bedroom, let alone as a couple for the mere fact the relationship was not allowed from the Hero safety commission. When word had gotten out about your relationship you heard from Keigo that they demanded it be cut off immediately. Why? You weren't sure. Keigo never really told you as to why they manhandled his entire life to evolve purely on work alone. And you were far to respectful to press further on the issue. Instead biting your tongue with such Fury it nearly bled. And taking what you have with Keigo as luck. Yes. You were lucky to get this far with him, and Odin be damned if you gave up on him now. So now, here you were, angry, alone and on the verge of tears while you waited for your bath. Music played on deaf ears, the loneliness slowly creeping. Along with the throb of yearning and desperation between your thighs. You quivered. Moving your hands between your legs to relieve much needed friction. You could play with yourself, you could bring out your trusty vibrator, get a good orgasm and knock out for the night. But you shook the thought out of your head faster than you would blink. Because you didn't want a damn toy to please you. You were far past using toys at this point now, you needed, no craved Keigo. His whole being. You missed his smell, you missed his smile, his eyes, his hair, begrudgingly his wings regardless of the mess they'd leave behind. You whimpered out of pure want, that it hurt. You noticed the water nearly reaching over the tub. Quickly shutting it off you climbed off the edge and made a beeline for your room. Opening the door to the scent of his cologne. You inhaled it and sighed contented. A small smile gracing your features while rummaging through your drawers. While also looking through your closet for that lingerie set you bought ages ago. You stared at it sitting sinfully on your bed. It's vibrant colors desperately calling for you to wear it. Before feeling a pang in your heart. A small voice telling you you'll never be able to wear it for it's full potential, throwing it carelessly in your closet you went into the bathroom stripping and getting into the tub. ¥¥¥¥¥¥

My neck is breaking, body shaking Sometimes it's so hard to breathe You took in a sharp inhale of breath. Closing your eyes as if the lyrics and musician was reaching into your heart and soul. But no one sees it follows me I always end up underneath You see Keigo's smile. See him laying next to you while you both talked, bodies still covered in sweat from your recent activities until the sun came up. The weight of the world Tears fell from your face. Emotions finally overtaking your entire being until you finally crack under the weight. Shooting up from the laying position you were in furiously wiping your face in disgust. This has gone long enough. As you were cleaning the bathroom up you hear the door closing and shuffling of feet padding against the cold floor. "Baby?." Your heart lept from your throat. Before rushing out of the bathroom seeing Keigo. All in his glory, standing at the threshold of the living room, eyes warn heavy with sleep and his hands in his pockets. You saw the way his face lit up. How his wings flexed upon your figure standing just a few feet away from your towel clad body. You didn't give him time to make another comment, before your body clashed against him. It's been far too long. He chuckles, regaining balance you almost knock out of him. Wings fully enveloping you into a tight, warm embrace as you took in his scent. "God I needed you so badly." You mumbled. Keigo let out a hearty breath. Before tightening his hold on you. "M'sorry baby. For Everything." Your half expecting him to make a sexual, cocky remark. But still enjoyed this glow. Of warmth, safety and love from just the hug. Before you felt the body numbing throb in your loins. You felt you slick pool from your core and you nearly salivate at the thought of him taking you right here on the floor. The feeling was so overwhelming that you mewled deliciously in his chest. Wings feathering up sending a jolt straight to his cock he moaned.

"Damn babe. Can't even make me dinner first?." There it was.

You slapped his chest playfully before sauntering off into your room. Of course without rolling your hips that reeks of needing dick down. Keigo's eyes never leaving your form. Blood rushing to his dick straining his pants even tighter. He began walking towards the bedroom while simultaneously rubbing himself of the tension. "I wasn't expecting you back until later. Hadn't had time to cook." His smirk soon fell into a frown. She must've been so upset with the cancellation she didn't bother cooking. His heart fell with guilt head low while he mumbled another 'Sorry.' Under his breath. He quickly discarded his over-sized jacket, eyewear and headset on the floor carelessly and flopping on the bed.

Granted it should've hurt the base of his wings, but they merely unfolded and layed lazily across the bed, the one wing dangling off the side. Turning your head you would've scolded him for leaving a mess. But he ended up making a mess of you. You could see his delicious dick print through his trousers, heavy and hard. Watching the small rise and fall of his chest, seeing how his under shirt hugged his upper body, you rubbed your thighs together for much needed friction. Still clad in your towel, you walked over to the front of the bed, his eyes lidded watching you as you helped take off his shoes for him. "Why don't ya take that towel off for me too pretty bird." Your body froze. He let out a throaty, husky groan. "Do it for Daddy."

As you were yanking the bastard off your needy body, the sheer excitedness disappeared as fast at it came when his phones call ringtone filled the once quiet room. All tranquility gone along with your last straw. Keigo instinctively took it out and answered, much to your dismay. Not that he wanted to fuck you over in this moment, it's out of pure habit. "Yes?." His voice said from the other side of the phone. Before watching his eyes roll and a grumble escaped his mouth. Lifting a finger he mouthed "meeting. One moment." It was your turn to roll your eyes. Canceling dates is one thing. But right as he's about to get his dick wet? Fucking demented. "Yes I'll hold." His voice brought you from you angry monologue. You shifted in place as Keigo kept mouthing apologies, while he was speaking, you decided to act now, or forever hold your peace. Crawling your way towards his limp body, Keigo almost didn't realize you were hovering right above him until it was too late. He stopped abruptly, watching you with calculate eyes. Before you leaned down and began suckling his skin shown just above the neckline of his hero shirt. His eyes closed in bliss as his cock rose to life instantaneously. It' astounds him the power you have over his body. His Dick was completely flaccid until now, you bit down on his sweet spot as he let out a throaty moan. Which in turn shot a pleasurable jolt to your pussy. Eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck baby." He went to run his hands through your tresses to bring your body much closer, "Excuse me what was that Hawks." The voice rang from the other side. He felt as if he was caught with his hand down the cookie jar, while he quickly reflexes his hand away embarrassed, you couldn't help the playful giggle erupt from your plush lips. Lips he wanted around his cock and on his awaiting lips. "N'othin sir. Continue." He tried to wave you off to keep himself put together. 'such a Meek little bird.' you thought to yourself. Before lowering yourself down till you were eye level with his hard member. You licked your lips, eyes darting up to watch him carefully. Before your tongue came out and swiped at the zipper of his jeans. Keigo's eyes widened his head shooting up to look down at you so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. 'She wouldn't Dare..' He thought to himself. 'fuck' he inwardly groaned as she quickly undid his pants and yanked them down to his thighs. Cock springing free from it's confines as his head lolled back in pleasure. Letting out baited breath while still maintaining a composed voice for the meeting. You began quick work not giving Keigo time to compose himself, before meekly giving his thick throbbing cock a long lick from base, to head. Keigo's eyes shut tightly and hissed out in pleasure. Hand balled up into a tight fist, he muttered a 'not now baby' before you cut him off by shoving his cock deep in your mouth. You gagged, but refused to let up before bobbing your head with determined vigor. Either he'll hang up or don't. You didn't give a fuck anymore. Keigo let out a loud guttural moan, before cursing himself as an angry voice was heard from the other side.

"I-I-. " his hand grabbed your hair. "I STUBBED MY TOE." You threw your head back from his cock with a 'pop' sound covering your mouth stifling your laughter. You could die at how embarrassed and flustered Keigo was right now. His face red as his wings, while being yelled at by meeting goers on the other side of the phone. Once you contained yourself you smiled coyly at Keigo. Very same cat like grin he'd give you before. "If they wanted a meeting." You said while crawling your way towards him, and whispering in his ear. "They can call you at a more respectful time. Because this is." You kissed his cheek. "Our time." Keigo mentally screamed. He was torn between attending this meeting now, and fucking your brains out. Clearly the later was already decided, as he felt your hot, throbbing wet sex lay flat against his shaft. His pupils dilated in lust while he kept eye contact with you.

Your eyes lidded over, while your hips rolled up and down motions on his sex. He watched with baited breath, yearning a playful lip bite from you, as you began riding his shaft with so much sex appeal it should be Rated triple X. Something in Keigo snapped, and he found himself smothering you in a heated kiss. His tongue prodding at your plump lips begging for entrance. Which you happily obliged eagerly fighting his appendage for dominance. And Dominance you will get, for you moved your hand between your bodies while grinding against his cock, wrapping your hands around his neck snugly while Keigo gasped in surprised with how you were handling him. "Shhh." His eyes opened. "Let's not piss off your bastard bosses." Your head cocked to the side as you stilled your movements, body downright on fire at this point.

He can feel your pussy clench around nothing while warming his cock. His smirk soon found it's way on his handsome features, almost causing you to mewl in pleasure from how hot he looked. "Do your worst birdie." Little bastard. As he began talking freely about a recent mission he completed, your eyes narrowed while his eyes would occasionally dart towards you. His newfound cockiness pissing you off further, before finally removing yourself from his body completely. Keigo's once confident smirk turned into a sputter of protests before he watched you move yourself above the top of his wing, his eyes widened in horror.

"What the fuck." He said aloud, voices falling on deaf ears as he watched you lower yourself enough to add friction but not too much weight to keep from hurting his wings. And begun grinding against the sturdiest part of the Appendage. He should be livid that you'd use his wings in such a way. "Babe. Don't-." Words cut short while he watches your face contort in sinful pleasure. Hands moving to play with your breasts, pulling the pert, hardened nipples between your fingers, while throwing your head back and letting out a breathless moan. He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't indulge in this fucked up behavior. But- he focused on his feathers, moving them lightning speed, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your over stimulated, heated body. His cock twitched, and throbbed in pain at this point. Aching to be touched. Missing your heat. His hand absent-mindedly running down his chest, stomach eventually touching his cock. He gave himself and long tug, precum oozing from the head. Using it to lubricate himself for easier use. Finally the meeting was cut short, something something catch ya later assholes. Keigo quickly tossed his phone to the floor eyes still glued to you as another In coming call was arriving. Little did Keigo know he unintentionally answered the call. You finally let out the loudest moan possible.

The vibrations of his feathers reaching the base of the wing. Your grinding becoming erratic. Uncaring of the pain he begun feeling Keigo begun working his cock to match your pace. His groans and throaty chuckles filled the air. Fuck you were so hot riding his wing. His orgasm fast approaching he could feel his lower abdomen flex, as his peak was nearly broken his hand was yanked from his cock, eyes shooting open you were back hovering over him with a sinister glint in your eye. Holy fuck that shouldn't turn him on anymore than he already was, before he knew it you sank down on his cock. "HOLY. FUCK. (NAME)."

you used a rag you brought from the bathroom and covered his eyes with, and then he felt his hands bound and tied to the headboard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He then felt your body shift off his cock. He whimpered, begged for you to come back. "You make me wait all this time. And you think I'm going to give you what you want Birdie?." He inwardly gulped at your harsh tone. Cock throbbing yet again. He moaned again as he felt you place opened mouth kisses to his stomach before lifting his shirt. Having his front bare. He looked so pretty like this. Wings splayed out. Hands tied, eyes bound. Pants to his thighs and a sheen layer of sweat causing his hair to cling to his face. Legs trembling and his member sprung to life. A panting, horny mess he was, Keigo.

You admired the view as you took a photo for. Later activities. Removing yourself further down, Keigo focused as hard as he could to figure out what you were up to. She already denied his orgasm. And now this? Fuck he's tormented. She ripped his shirt completely open, he nearly nutted on the spot. "Don't you dare cum Keigo." Fuuuuuuuuuck. He threw his head back down, you began leaving hot kisses and love bites along his neck, chest, hip, inner groin, thighs. Murmuring how beautiful and good he's being. His hands fought the restraints, wishing, praying that he could touch you. Give you his complete utter attention that you so craved. Seems the roles are reversed, and that he's just going to have to hold on. After leaving your fill of marks on his gorgeous skin, you so in begun straddling his right leg. He bounced it in surprise, which enticed a moan from you. "Pretty Bird?" He asked voice barely a whisper. His ankle barely brushed your clit. You bit your lip. Before grinding on his ankle. Subtle. Keigo is writhing against the restraints, refusing the let you come undone by this.

"Baby.. Please." He knew he sounded pathetic Knew his pleads are going on deaf ears. He jerked his foot upwards, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

He turned his foot sideways, your clit rubbing against the ball connecting his ankle and joints. You rolled your hips against the bone like a women starved. Your back arching, sweating dripping down your back. Keigo used his feathers to remove the blindfold and cut the restraints then thrown on your back before you could process what was happening.

"You're not getting off on my ankle little cumslut."

He threw his trousers off as he crawled back over to you legs spread wide for him as you wrapped your hand around his throat he was so far gone in lust to even care, infact. It further aroused him. Eyes blown completely he bored through you. Chest heaving and panting heavily. In one fell swoop buried balls deep in your shopping cunt. The shrill shriek that left your parted lips pushed Keigo last the teasing. And went at a full blown mind numbing feral pace. He was breathing fast and heavy through his nose while he let out husky groans. Your hand begun digging into the flesh of his neck nearly cutting off circulation but he didn't care. All he cared about was the feeling of your wet cunt sucking his cock in ways he liked. His hands found their way on either side of your head, finding home at the edge of the bed before setting a fast pace, pistoning his pelvis against yours at inhuman speeds.

Your breasts bounced at the sheer force, knocking the air right out of you. Wrapping your legs tight around his waist drawing him deeper and harder into your heat. Keigo was fast. Almost too fast for your mind to process anything at this point, except his thick cock brushing your spongy spot that made you see stars, "you like that birdie? Like it when I drive my fat cock in your pussy?." He was taunting you, edging you on. "Cum on this cock like the pretty slut that you are." His grunts getting closer together in between pants. His breath heavy. Wings curling in shutting yourselves from the world.

"Yes Kei-Yesyesyesyesyes-." The dam in your stomach threatened to break. To spill all your secrets onto the bare walls of the bedroom everything long forgotten in the combined heats of your bodies. Mind fogging over in pure haze as your climax came crashing down on you. So much so you screamed till your throat burned. Keigo soon came undone by the tight vice grip your cunt had on his cock. Hot sticky spurts of cum shooting inside your womb. And painting your walls white. His head threw back and let out such a delicious moan you nearly - "Oh-FuKEIGO." You thought you had just pissed yourself, but soon noticed clear hot liquid shooting out of your pussy and covering both you and Keigo.

You had squirted. Bodies lay limp on damp wet sheets while you both tried to catch your breath. Sweat and your liquids mingling together. Keigo landed flat against you, face in the Crook of your neck. Wings splayed out across the entire bed. And that's how you both laid for the longest time. Completely spent and ruined. When you both came down from your highs, Keigo lifted his face to look at you, smile adorned his rather flushed expression. Eyes softened, and an afterglow you wish you could commemorate to memory. He looked stunning. He kissed you with careless abandon. While stroking your cheek tenderly. Affection far different compared to his earlier treatment. He was in bliss. After your fill of that You both got cleaned up, and got back into bed before turning in for the night, while having mindless chatter before sleep finally succumbed you both. Keigo should've been careful though. In the midst of his heated lust. He didn't realize the phone call was still running.

Before the man on the other end finally hung up.

Cerulean Eyes peering out into the quiet night lit city outside his window.

¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥

A/N: I proofread as much I could while stoned Af so please bear with my shitytness.

#keigo takami #TAKE ME DADDY #takami keigo #mha #bnha hawks #bnha #keigo x reader #smut #tw #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #winged hero hawks #hawks imagines #Jo I grant you the pull power of ankle play #Jo this is a gift for you an I whose soul purpose was to indulge In Hawks Ankle #x reader #keigo #number 2 hero #boku no hero academia hawks

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Red

A/N: Hey, remember that made-up fic title game where I made this up and then an anon asked for it and I said I was already kinda working on it? No? Me either. But here’s a fic about Rafael being kidnapped. I’ve always wanted to write a darker fic where reader gets to go ham, so I did! I also love the idea of shooting someone while they’re posturing, and hate that it doesn’t happen in shows/movies. Lemme know if you want a part 2 or not!

Edit: I forgot to mention that this is dedicated to @prurientpuddlejumper, who wanted so bad for me to stab Rafi

Tags: kidnapping, murder/death, guns, whump (but not really until the end?), allusions to torture by knife/stabbings

Words: 3890

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @dianilaws @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

“Rafi, what the hell is this?” you asked, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. You were inside his office at One Hogan Place—what was a happy surprise was slowly turning into something more—glaring at the desk. Everything was in its place, undisturbed, except for an open letter laying innocently on the wood. You couldn’t see the handwritten words, but you could make out the crest that acted as a signature—the emblem of the BX9 gang. You had seen it multiple times in your career as detective in Manhattan’s homicide department, usually spray painted at a crime scene, or tattooed on a member. Or carved into someone skin with a dull knife in more extreme cases.

Rafael came up behind you, glancing over your shoulder at his desk. He sighed. “Just a thinly veiled threat, hermosa. Nothing to worry about—”

“Nothing to worry about?” you spat. “BX9 is threatening you and there’s nothing to worry about?”

He grimaced at your tone. “Cariño, they’ve been threatening me since I became an ADA—it’s background noise at this point.” He kissed your cheek, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I promise you; it’s fine.”

You melted against his solid chest, but you didn’t uncross your arms. “It doesn’t feel fine, Raf…what if something happens? What are they even threatening you about?”

His lips moved to your neck, kissing the soft skin just below your ear. “Remember that conviction I got last week on Alfonse Romero? Well, he was a high-ranking member of the BX9…. They want him released,” he explained.

“That’s…a serious threat, Raf,” you murmured back. You moved your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck as your body started to relax under his touch. “Do I need to have unis watching you?”

Rafael bit down on your neck and you let out a whimper. “No, and I don’t want to talk about this right now. Right now, I just want you,” he whispered, kissing and sucking at you. He was impossible to resist, and you let him push you towards his desk, his hands groping at you.

******************

Ever since you learned your husband was coming under threats, you started wearing your vest everywhere under your shirt, just in case. BX9 were ruthless, and it wouldn’t surprise you if they went after you to hurt Rafael, whether you were a detective or not—they didn’t have qualms about killing cops. You wanted Rafael to wear a vest under his suits as well, but he refused, thinking it ridiculous. Even so, you snagged one that was his size from the department, and headed home, intending to force it on him. You’d rather him safe, if uncomfortable, than dead; fuck his pride. It was the weekend, so he was off, relaxing on the couch last you saw him that morning.

The elevator doors dinged open and you walk towards your shared loft but stop short. Even from here, you could see that the door is slightly open, the wood in the frame splintered. Your heart in your throat, you hurry to the door, unholstering your gun as you go. You push the door open, aiming you gun inside.

“Rafael?” you called out, taking a few steps in. The coatrack by the door has been knocked over, and there’s flecks of red on the carpet. Blood. Rage and fear coursed through you, and it’s with shaky hands that you step over it, moving through the quiet loft, searching every room. But there’s no sign of anyone there. Holstering your gun, you looked for something, anything, that could be a clue as to where they took him. There was no doubt in your mind as to who took him, and you closed your eyes, sending a silent prayer that he was still alive, fear and nausea overtaking you for just a moment before you shoved it down.

There was a piece of paper on the coffee table in the living room, and you could see the familiar crest of BX9. You glanced over it, your eyes scanning it quickly as you read it once, twice, your breath coming in sharper as you absorbed the words.

“Release our Captain Romero to us by 9am tomorrow morning, and we’ll trade back the lawyer. Fail to give us Romero, and you’ll find the lawyer’s corpse. -BX9”

You clenched your hands into fists. The good news was that Rafael was alive. The bad news was there was absolutely no way you could get Romero released, especially by 9am…it was already 1pm—you had less than 24 hours. There was an address at the end of the note; the meeting place for the exchange. You snapped a picture of it on your phone, then left the loft. You had some favors to call in, but one thought kept coming back to you; if there was so much as a scratch on Rafael Barba, you were going to kill everyone involved.

*********************

“BX9 owns this warehouse,” one of your informants, Johnny, relayed to you. “I’ve seen a couple guys going in and out recently.”

You nodded. “But you didn’t see the ADA?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “But I did find a back door that seemed unguarded.”

That caught your attention. “Show me.”

It was 10pm, and your resolve had only hardened with the passing time. You had less than 12 hours to find your husband. After going to the meeting place and finding it deserted, you had sent out every druggie and rat that owed you a favor to track down BX9 hubs. You had then busied yourself with gearing up—making sure your vest was on tight, your ammo in your handgun full, an extra clip on your hip. You also grabbed your trusty pocketknife, and finished your ensemble with a fully-loaded, pump-action shotgun strapped to your back. You didn’t plan on taking hostages—BX9 would extend the same curtesy to you. It was all about who could pull the trigger faster. And you didn’t plan on losing.

Olivia Benson, head of Manhattan’s SVU, who Rafael worked with constantly and considered a friend, had tried to contact you after finding your home broken into, but you had ignored her calls. No distractions. You were going to find Rafael, and there was going to be hell to pay. There was a good chance you were going to lose your shield for this, but you didn’t care. You just didn’t want to drag anyone else into this. If you lost your job protecting your husband, then so be it. You didn’t need the self-righteous Lieutenant, nor her loyal lapdogs, holding you back.

*****************

The warehouse seemed dark, abandoned…except for the one or two men in black, trying to look nondescript. They were doing inconspicuous laps around the place, or would lean against the front of the building, smoking. It made sense why the back door was unguarded, though—the warehouse was on the harbor, the back of the building against the water. You’d have to swim to get there. Not a problem.

“Thank you, Johnny,” you murmured. “Keep your eyes open for other hotspots, in case he’s not here.” He nodded, and you waved your hand, dismissing him. You were on a separate pier, gazing across the black waters to the warehouse that most likely held Rafael. As Johnny left, you looked around, trying to see if there was an easier solution than swimming; it was already 40 degrees outside, and the cool breeze would chill you to the bone if you were wet. Plus, you had your gun and a shotgun slung across your back that wouldn’t work if waterlogged.

Luckily, you found a small, rubber raft attached to a boat, oars laying on the deck next to it. You grabbed an oar, gently tossing it down to the raft below, then climbed down the ladder. One foot in the raft and taking out your pocketknife, you quickly cut through the ropes that tied the raft to the boat, then fully sat down inside. Silently, you paddled against the light current, heading towards the back of the warehouse. The two men never thought to check the water, their vigil consisting of only the front doors. It was an almost 30-minute fight across such a small expanse of water, your arms burning as you made it to the other side, but you felt none of it, your anger fueling you.

You carefully climbed up the ladder onto the pier, heading to the back door on silent feet. The door was locked, and you squatted by the locking mechanism. You popped open your pocketknife, shoving it into the keyhole. You fiddled with it, jerking it this way and that, trying to brute force your way in—you didn’t have anything else to pick the lock…besides the shotgun on your back. But that wasn’t really silent.

With a satisfying click, the keyhole turned. You tried the doorknob, and it turned, opening the door as the blade of your knife snapped inside the keyhole. Glancing at your broken pocketknife, you closed it, tucking it back into your pocket before entering the warehouse. A broken knife is still a sharp object, and the blade was still good for cutting ropes or tape.

It was silent inside as you crept along, gun held at the ready. You weren’t nervous, you weren’t sad. All you felt was a cold, simmering rage that was barely being contained within you…and the smallest kernel of fear that Rafael may be severely injured or worse. If he was truly dead, then—no, you wouldn’t finish that thought. He couldn’t be dead. You weren’t quite sure what you’d do if he was, and that scared you more than anything. But you took that fear and shoved it deep within yourself, letting anger and instinct take over. There’d be plenty of time for fear and stress later.

Gun drawn, you made your way down a hallway of open doors, the rooms small and empty, when you heard a muffled groan from behind a closed door. You holstered your gun, taking out the shotgun—if this room was like the others you had passed, it was small enough for the shotgun.

Holding the shotgun at the ready, you made your way to the door, then knocked harshly, taking a step back and aiming. As the door opened, you looked a member of the BX9 in the face before you pulled the trigger, blasting him backwards.

“What the fuck?” a voice yelled from inside the room. You kicked the door open, and it bounced off the dead man’s leg. You wedged your foot against the bottom of it, propping it open, and shoved the barrel of the shotgun towards the other man standing there. He jumped back in shock and fear, putting his hands up, a bloody knife falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. Between you was a man strapped to a chair, his back to you. But one look told you it wasn’t Rafael—he had blonde hair and his shoulders weren’t as broad. The man in the chair let out another groan, but you didn’t look away from the other BX9 member.

“Where’s Rafael Barba being held?” you asked, voice dangerous.

“Yo, he’s the one we tradin’ for Romero, right?” The man asked, voice shaky.

You gripped the shotgun tighter. “You have until the count of three to give me a location. One—”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t part o’ that hit! I was here, with—”

“Two—”

“I…I can find out! Lemme just text Jose—”

“Three.” You pulled the trigger, the shotgun blast deafening in the small room and silencing the man, splattering his blood on the wall behind him. You moved into the room, squatting down and reaching into the second dead man’s pocket, pulling out his cell. It was an old flip phone—a burner cell—so you didn’t need him to unlock it for you. You thumbed through the contacts until you found Jose, shooting him a text, asking for Rafael’s location. As you went to leave the room, you glanced at the poor man slumped in the chair, whimpering and groaning in pain. Using the burner cell, you called 911, requesting an ambulance, before leaving the warehouse. If Rafael was in the same shape as that man…you were already clenching your fists in rage.

****************

Jose didn’t text you back until almost 6am. Needless to say, you were furious, waiting for information, checking other BX9 hotspots, but finding no hint of Rafael there. At least he gave you an address instead of wondering why you were asking questions. So, with less than 3 hours remaining, you made your way to the destination, shotgun on your back and handgun on your hip. You felt no exhaustion from the sleepless night, having kept busy searching the city for your husband, your anger fueling you like gas to a flame.

You were across the street from where Jose had told you; it was an empty lot, a chain-link fence surrounding it, a rusted-out shipping container in the far end. Either Jose had completely fucked you, or they were in that shipping container. The only problem with the second option was that if you shot your gun—either one—inside there, you’d probably burst everyone’s eardrums, including your own…and Rafael’s, if he was indeed in there. But how to lure them out?

You made your way through the gate, your eyes never leaving the shipping crate. The opening was facing you; even though you could only see darkness inside with the barely rising sun casting shadows, you were sure they could see you just fine.

“I got your Captain out here,” you lied, your voice echoing along the buildings. “Show me the counselor.”

You heard scuffling inside, and a low voice saying, “go check,” before a man stepped out into the light.

“Where’s Romero?” he asked gruffly, coming to stand in front of you.

“Safe. Where’s Rafael?” you shot back, flexing your hands. The man had a gun in his waistband, but you knew you could draw faster.

“Safe,” he parroted back. “Show me Romero, and I’ll show you the lawyer.”

You stared at each other for a long time, sizing each other up. His hand twitched and you drew your gun, shooting him once in the chest. He had only made it halfway to his waistband before he was falling to the ground. You heard a scrambling inside the crate, and you aimed at the opening, waiting.

“Show me the ADA,” you called. “Or you all die.” You didn’t know how many there were, but you were following your own rationale—they wouldn’t fire a gun inside the container. Though there was still the option of stabbing Rafael…and you were praying they wouldn’t give up a chance at getting Romero back that easily by killing him.

A burly looking man came lumbering into the open, but you paid him no attention, your eyes instead locked on the man he was half-dragging with him. Rafael looked barely conscious, blood leaking from his temple and nose, his polo shirt torn and splattered with red. It looked like he had multiple stab wounds and cuts, and his legs were shaky beneath him. You clenched your teeth, your heart in your throat, but you didn’t lower your arm, gun still aimed at the man. You were seeing red as your eyes went to the gun pressed against the side of Rafael’s lolling head, then back to the man holding him up.

“Drop your gun, or he dies,” the man commanded.

A rush of adrenaline pumped through you, but you willed yourself to stay calm, unblinking as you stared the man down, unmoving. “I’m only going to say this once; let my husband go, or I’ll make you let him go,” you muttered, voice barely audible.

The man laughed. “Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do—” He was cut off as you pulled the trigger, hitting him between the eyes. As he fell backwards, Rafael stumbled forward, his legs buckling beneath him. You rushed forward, dropping your gun and catching him as he fell to his knees.

“Babe, look at me, are you okay? We gotta get you to a hospital,” you murmured, all the anger and rage that had filled you for the past day instantly leaving you. All you felt now was concern for your husband, and a profound relief that he was alive…plus an all-encompassing exhaustion that quickly filled in where the anger had left. You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you through fluttering eyelids.

“…[y/n]? Wh-what happened?... I’m so tired…” Rafael mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open.

“Stay with me, baby,” you replied, suddenly afraid that he may not survive. You pulled out your phone with one hand, calling 911 for an ambulance, while lifting his shirt with your other hand, checking his injuries. He had various cuts and stabs on his torso, but they all seemed old, the blood dried. You grit your teeth as fleeting anger washed through you once more, wishing you left the bastards alive so that you could shoot them again.

Helping Rafael to his feet, you half-walked, half-dragged him out of the lot, laying him on the cool concrete. You murmured encouragement to him while waiting for the ambulance, trying to keep him conscious, your heart straining. The police showed up first—someone must’ve called in the gunshots. You flashed your badge, telling them that the two dead were with BX9 and were killed in self-defense. Not a full lie, but you also weren’t telling them the full truth, either. They didn’t ask too many questions, and you surrendered the shotgun instantly, your handgun laying in the lot still.

The ambulance finally came just as Rafael lost consciousness. You waved the paramedics over, watching with bated breath as they loaded him onto a gurney.

“I’m riding with him,” you said, climbing into the ambulance with your husband, clutching his hand.

***************

Rafael slowly awoke a few hours after being admitted to the hospital, his hand still clutched in yours. You had yet to contact SVU—or IAB, for that matter—wanting to let Rafael and yourself relax before being subjected to all the visitors, all the questions. The various cuts and stab wounds were shallow, and only a few needed stitches. Thankfully, he didn’t have anything too serious done to him physically—probably because they were afraid that they wouldn’t get Romero back if they fucked Rafael up too much.

“Hey, honey. How’re you feeling?” you asked, voice soft.

He blinked groggily, eyes slightly unfocused. “Like I was hit repeatedly by a car,” he groaned, trying to sit up.

“Relax, dear. Don’t strain yourself,” you said, but he didn’t stop. So, rolling your eyes at his stubbornness, you helped him sit up.

Once up, you poured him some water, then helped him lift the cup to his mouth. “What happened? I…I remember getting attacked from behind at home. They knocked me out…and then I woke up in a metal room…” he trailed off, and you could see the pain in his eyes.

“I found you in a storage container in an empty lot—they wanted to trade you for Romero,” you explained, eyes hard. You both fell to silence for a moment before you said quietly, “if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. You know I won’t judge you.”

Rafael was silent for a long time, eyes downcast. He wasn’t one to talk freely about his emotions or thoughts—something that you learned to live with—but he was getting better about it with you. “When he stabbed me the first time, all I could think about was you…about how I was never going to see you again. I was sure I was going to die in that box….” Tears clouded his vision, and your heart shattered. “They didn’t tell me why I was there, why they took me. I…I didn’t know what was happening—”

“It’s okay, baby; you’re safe now,” you muttered, squeezing his hand. “I got you.”

Rafael sniffled. “I…should’ve listened to you about the threats. You were right—I should’ve had protection—”

“It’s in the past, Rafi. We can’t change it now.” It broke your heart to see Rafael like this, so shaken up. “Besides, I don’t think the BX9 are going to come anywhere near you anytime soon.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Why not? You didn’t give them Romero, did you?”

“Of course not. But….” You weren’t positive how to tell him, but you also couldn’t lie to him. “I was so…enraged when I found you were taken…. In the process of tracking you down, I may have…taken out some members….”

Rafael blinked at you. “You…you killed people?”

“Technically, yes, I did. But—”

“Are you crazy? How have you not been arrested yet? What’s going to happen—”

“Calm down, Raf. They were all done in self-defense. I won’t be arrested…though, I may lose my shield for it,” you explained.

Rafael fell back into silence as he thought about this. You were a little embarrassed about it, guilty because you knew how he felt about murder. But you wouldn’t feel bad about protecting your husband, and that’s what you had been doing. You weren’t sure how IAB would come at you, though, but you also weren’t too worried about it; you were a decorated detective with a clean record. Plus, there were no witnesses to what happened…except that one man in the warehouse. There would definitely be questions about why you left him strapped to a chair, bleeding out. And you didn’t think it would go to trial, but you were already wondering if “not guilty by mental defect” applied, since you were out of your mind with worry and rage at Rafael being abducted.

You shook yourself, pushing all that from your mind. “I do still want to have some protection put on you…just for a little, okay?”

Rafael nodded vaguely, gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “How long am I stuck here for?”

“I’m…not sure, but it shouldn’t be too much longer. They were waiting for you to wake up, but your injuries aren’t severe…. Speaking of, did you want me to find a—a therapist—”

“Absolutely not. I’m fine,” Rafael cut you off. You figured as much; he’d never admit something wrong with his mind, even when he had tough cases wearing him down for weeks, months. He just powers through it; that was his way. But you were afraid that this time may be different…for both of you.

You squeezed his hand once more, and his eyes softened as he looked at you. “Okay, love. Let me go find your nurse, see if I can take you home. I’m making you your favorite dinner tonight, and then we are sleeping in.”

Rafael gave you a soft smile, bringing your hand up, his lips brushing your knuckles lightly. “Thank you, mi amor. Te amo.”

“Te amo, Guapo,” you replied, standing and making your way out the door, reluctant to leave him alone, to take your eyes off him, even for a second. But Rafael was safe…for now…as safe as he could be.

#rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

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straymackerel · 4 years

Note

i guess there’s no point in going anon since i already sent you a message 😂 but yeah, can i request for the lítost prompt? life has been stressful lately esp with job hunting, so this might cheer me up a bit. thank you so much! 💓

dazai + lítost (czech, n.) a state of agony/torment/humiliation created by the sudden sight of one's own misery.

➽─{ofc ofc! comfort fic coming right up~ and i wish you good luck!}─❥

You imagine that you’re going on your third or fourth sleepless hour in bed, but without a clock nearby, you’re unable to verify. It’s impossible to drift off with the cacophony of thoughts that sweep your mind: “What if I’m not good enough?” “What if things don’t work out?” The dread of impending rejection and failure fills you to the brim. You simmer in your worries, heartbeat thumping to unusual patterns.

As restless as you are, the moment you pull away from the cozy sheets, you get the overwhelming sense that you should stay put. You feel around in the dark anyway, edging the bed frame that supports not one, but two: you and your loving boyfriend. The unsuspecting brunette hardly stirs when you slip out the door and walk straight into the bathroom.

Switching the lights on, it’s all you can do not to stumble backwards when their brilliance blinds you. You rub your eyes in an attempt to adjust—totally unhelpful. You blink ferociously, forcing your eyelids as wide as you can manage with each flutter. And then, you make eye contact with yourself.

Huge mistake.

The moment you see your reflection, a wave of fatigue crashes over you. The mirror on the wall tells you a story of bloodshot eyes, dark circles, and cracked lips. In other words: you look like shit. You suddenly realize that your body is screaming, howling. Aching pains lace your arms and legs, threatening to spread to your extremities.

Just how did it come to this? Tears prickle your eyes as your body slumps over in defeat. A dull throb wraps around your head the way a snake might suffocate its next meal. Ashamed by the sight of yourself, you want nothing more than to crawl out of your own skin; so imagine the way in which your heart stops when you hear the hallway floorboards creak.

“Dearest?” Dazai calls out from afar. Head snapping at his voice, you consider hiding in the closet or holing up in the cabinet. Instead you opt to barricade the door, keeping your lover from entering.

“Babe, are you okay? The bed was getting cold,” he says, rapping his hand against the doorframe. “Is everything alright in there?” You press up against the wooden surface as he fiddles with the doorknob, unsuccessfully. “Oh my goodness, please tell me you’re okay.” When you let out a small whimper, he responds with an audible sigh of relief.

“You wanna come out and talk about it?” he continues. Your mouth opens, then closes. Your troubles—they’re burdensome. And your appearance—it’s absolutely unbecoming.

“I… it’s…” you trail off. “It’s nothing,” you wanted to say. But the both of you know you can’t lie to Dazai. You scramble for an answer to give him.

“I’m not feeling so great,” you finally settle upon. “…And I can’t fall asleep.” Dazai waits a beat before he realizes you’re not giving him any more.

“Babe, I think you’re leaving out some very important details,” his sing-song voice flutters through the door, unsatisfied with your vague description. It’s as if his pinpoint perception is enabled at all times, including the very dead of the night.

“…Okay, fine.” You fidget with your hands, not knowing what to do with them. “The thing is, I’m really, really overwhelmed right now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But if you won’t come out, can I come in?” Dazai presses on with his request. You realize that this exchange can only end in one way: you opening the door.

You hesitate before cracking it open ever so slowly, head to the ground all the while. As soon as he sets foot inside, you walk straight into Dazai, crashing into his body. Burying your face into his chest, you attempt to hide your unsightly exhaustion, but that doesn’t work for long.

“There, there.” He strokes the top of your head softly. Then he says the one thing you don’t want to hear right now. “C’mon, let me see that beautiful face of yours.”

“No dice. I look horrible right now,” you mumble under your breath.

“Oh? Telling lies?” He tilts your chin up against your wishes, causing you to avert your gaze.

“Stop that, this is so embarrassing─”

“Hey, listen. My belladonna always looks beautiful to me,” Dazai insists. He pauses once your face is in full view, to which you somehow expect disgust and revulsion. Instead, he breaks out in a big smile, leaning forward to plant a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Darling, anyone who saw you right now would know that you’re working really, really hard!” His face brightens in apparent amusement.

“Ew, don’t make me think about that,” you say, a small laugh escaping you. You allow your head to remain slightly raised, still a little self-conscious.

“You know, I know this little trick that just might help,” he says, leading you to the sink. He turns the faucet on: “Here, it’s cold.” You reach in while shooting him a questioning look.

“Are you... making me wash my hands..?” Dazai gives you another forehead kiss in response.

“Very cute idea, but I heard that running water has a calming effect. Though it might be more effective if you splashed your face,” he says, mimicking the motion. You comply, cupping the cool liquid and letting it wash over your skin. Dazai turns your head to face him again, gently dabbing the excess away with a towel.

“Any better?”

“I think so?” If you’re not mistaken, your heart rate is stabilizing, and the cooling effect of the water is actually kind of soothing. But the distraction soon wears off; you nearly fall to your feet when the reality of your aches and pains set back in. Dazai is quick to break your fall, stabilizing you when your legs give out.

“Whoa there. Let’s go make you comfortable.” Your boyfriend has you lean on him as he leads you outside, taking you to the couch. You’re gently propped up against cushions and pillows, but none of them are as soft and warm as Dazai himself. He snuggles up beside you, letting you lie atop of him. When you nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder, a deep chuckle reverberates throughout his body.

There’s a stillness as he patiently waits for you to speak.

“I’m scared.” Dazai nods silently, moving to pet your cheek. “I’m practically throwing myself into my work, but what if it all goes to waste?” you ask.

“None of your efforts go to waste, darling. Nothing is done in complete vain. You’re amazing; I just know that you’ll pull through. And if not now, then later.”

“Oh.” You ponder the idea of a distant success. “...Dazai, do you think I’m burning out?” you ask, lips quivering. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight.

“I said no such thing. But even if you’re burning out, then you’re burning out, my love. Life is cyclical; this too shall pass. None of it is permanent.” He pauses knowingly. “...Except that I’ll always be cheering you on no matter what.”

Dazai leans down to plant another kiss on you, this time on your mouth. A luxurious warmth presses into your lips, making you sink even deeper into him. You melt into his embrace, muscles relaxing.

“I know you’re right, but I can’t help but worry...”

“Well, it wouldn’t be so bad if you kept staying up late, now would it? That way, I can cuddle with you all I want~” Dazai jokes, messing your hair up. You giggle.

“Well, couch potato isn’t exactly the career change I had in mind, but─”

“But─you’ll consider it, right?” Dazai pokes you square in the stomach, causing you to jolt.

“Hey..!” He laughs when you startle. “Okay, fine, yes, I will.”

You know he’s only kidding, but the thought of spending late nights this way really does sound enticing. A warm fuzzy feeling falls over you like a blanket when he smiles at you with those lazy eyes of his. You swear you can feel the hurt in your body fading away in your lover’s arms.

As your breath synchronizes, the rise and fall of your chests match, eventually slowing down. The bandaged detective watches as your eyelids flicker, struggling to stay open. You fall into a deep sleep right before his eyes, out like a light. Once he’s sure that you can’t hear it, he whispers in your ear:

“Don’t you worry about a single thing. I believe in you, forever and always.”

#dazai x reader #500 followers event #dazai scenario #dazai imagine #bsd x reader #dazai fluff #dazai osamu scenarios #dazai oneshot

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Note

i love lila's character. you did such a good job with creating her, kait. she seems so human with real insecurities and she isn't perfect--either in appearance or personality. and her faults are very relatable. one reason i love her so much is that she has self confidence issues with her looks (i can relate to that).

i always struggle with giving my OC faults so I know how hard it can be to not create a perfect character. anyway, i just want to let you know i love lila. she is precious. i want to smooch her on the cheek and hug her. especially her evil princess version. (i forgot which au it was, but i loved reading it)

I think it helps when you impart pieces of yourself into your characters in the long run. I always give mine something that I can either relate to or understand on an emotional level, and that makes things easier to understand in the long run. So, I would say that if it takes sharing personal aspects of yourself to someone, that may be what it takes to help you flesh out a human character.

You can make your characters however you want. They don't need to be "perfect" but they can be seemingly "perfect" if you want. It's your OC at the end of the day, Anon. The only opinion that matters is the one that you have. I don't care if your OC has rainbow eyes or is a catboy. If it makes you happy, so be it.

With Lila, she struggles with a lot of things about herself in the long run. She has body dysmorphia but challenges it as best she can with what she has every day. She can be stubborn when she's angry and it causes her to be brash when it matters the most, and it can shoot her in the foot sometimes. She's too selfless. She will throw herself away for others.

These are not faults, but they are aspects that make it very hard for her to cope with things. And ah, you're thinking of the Assistant AU where Unknown kidnaps her to work with him. Yes, Wisteria is what she goes by under the influence of Elixir. Even that variant has many insecurities and problems. She's also selfless, but to the point where her fixation is on Saeran and only Saeran. She would burn down any building and get rid of anyone to save him, no matter what it means for her... and she'd even be destroyed if it saved him.

She has the illusion of a bratty princess because she gets the things that she wants badly. The elixir made her... unstable, and her grounds for reality are placed on the idea of clinging to acting like she's a real princess who will have everything she wants. She hates anything that gets in her way, but at the same time...

If someone tries to question her thinking too hard... she would break down and cry, screaming and shouting in confusion. Petunia is kind of a fun story for me because I love exploring that.

#cmc #lila lancelot oc #anon

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jjaybank · 4 years

Text

a knight in faded cut-offs ~ jj maybank

words: 1,745

warnings:swears

requested:yesss :)

A/N:request from anon - Hii can I request one of JJ x Female Reader? The reader doesn’t have a car so she takes public transportation (taxi, bus, Uber, etc). She oversleeps and misses her ride and gets really stressed out about it. JJ sees her stressing and offers to take her to wherever she was going on his motorcycle. Then when they get there, he asks her out before she goes inside or something like that :)

Hi angel, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to your request! I will do better.

tagging some beauts (i hope thats okay): @bricksatanakinswindow @socialwriter @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @downbytheouterbanks @maybanksbaby @pixelated-pogues

lmk if you wanna be tagged in my stuff (and also if you don’t x) ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You wake with a start, catching yourself freefalling through a dream. The kind that makes you come round with a jolt and that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. You roll over in bed, rubbing sleep from your eyes and yawning into a stretch. Sunlight streams through your shutters and over your bedsheets, illuminating your bedroom in a soft glow. Which you languidly realise is pretty unusual. The sun is usually only just coming up when you wake for work. Fuck.

Your heart lurches into your throat and that sick feeling hurtles through your body again as you realise you must have overslept. You scramble around in your bed sheets, eventually shaking your phone onto the floor. You reach for it desperately, jabbing at the screen. It’s dead. You must have forgotten to charge it overnight. You roll your eyes and groan in panic, jamming the charger into the port. You race around your room, throwing on your work uniform and frantically pulling a brush through your hair. You throw the shutters open in haste, anxiously trying to gauge the time by the state of the traffic. You squint at the fuel station across the street. You recognise a few of the usual suspects picking up their morning paper and coffees, which relaxes you momentarily because it means that surely you’re not that late. You curse when you stub your toe on the foot of your bed. Your phone finally lights up with life and you grab at it while attempting to pull your shoes on one handed. 7.29 AM. Fuck. Your eyes dart to the window just as your 7.30 bus rolls on past. A tirade of swear words cascade from your mouth as you grab your bag and dash for the door. It’s a beautiful day and you hate it. When the weather is bad the bus is always running late, and you are left to wait in a downpour. But on this gorgeous, bright, sunshiney day here you are sprinting after your ride which has no intention of stopping. You give up on the chase as the bus rounds the corner of the street, resorting to throwing your middle finger up at the retreating vehicle. Cars beep at you as they whizz past and you smile sarcastically, dipping into an over the top bow as you catch your breath. You sigh in resignation as you slump against the pole of the bus stop, your mind racing as you consider your options. You watch the people in the fuel station; a woman filling up the tank of her van, a group of youngsters grabbing sweets on their way to school, a blond guy kneeling beside his dirt bike checking a tyre. You catch his eye for a moment across the road before you pull your gaze away and down to the tarmac. You spare a glance for your phone and notice its already dropped back down to 1%. You work on the other side of The Cut, a half hour bus ride away so you definitely aren’t going to make it on time by foot. You have neither enough charge nor the cash for a taxi since you usually rely on your bus pass. You are already on strike two – one more misdemeanour and you’ve got the sack which, given your financial situation, isn’t really something you can afford. Fuck! And this time you say it out loud – in fact it’s more of a scream. Your outburst catches the attention of several people, including the blond. His head whips up from where he has been focussed on his bike and his brow furrows at your clear distress. You cover your mouth sheepishly, waving a general apology to the vicinity. You bury your face in your hands, the disaster of a morning running through your mind. You’ve probably only been awake for around ten minutes and it’s already one of the worst days you’ve had in a long while. You are considering heading home to charge your phone and risk a call to your incredibly unforgiving boss, when a bike skids to a halt in front of you, sending small stones skittering over your barely tied laces. You look up in despair, literally how could this day get any worse? ‘Bad morning?’ It’s the blond guy from the fuel station. You watch in bewilderment as he dismounts from his dodgy looking dirt bike. You look up and down the street – it’s broad daylight and there are commuters here, there and everywhere, if he’s a kidnapper then he’s a pretty shitty one. You look back to him and he’s watching you expectantly. ‘Well?’ he probes, shifting against his bike so that he’s leaning against it with a certain air of confidence. ‘I- uh,’ you stumble over your words and roll your eyes for the hundredth time since you woke, ‘yeah, “bad” would be an understatement.’ You laugh dryly, rubbing the toe of your shoe into the ground. He catches you off guard by flashing the brightest of grins and patting the seat of his bike. ‘Need a ride?’ You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. ‘Why would you do that?’ you ask, baffled as to why the guy would go out of his way for someone he’d never met before. He scratches the back of his neck bashfully and his vividly blue eyes meet your sceptical ones. ‘Are you in a rush or nah? Just tryna get in that good karma.’ He laughs, shaking his head and moving to straddle his bike again. Your heart thumps against your chest as you weigh up your options. You really need your job. ‘Wait!’ You step forward and his head snaps back around, a small smirk playing over his face. You stretch a hand out towards him and he takes it warmly, passing you the helmet that’s been sitting on the handle bars. ‘I’m Y/N’ you say, shooting him a brief smile as you secure the helmet on your head. He helps you settle down on the back of the bike before he slips in front of you. ‘Nice to meet you, Y/N,’ and you can hear the amusement in his voice, ‘my name is JJ, I will be your captain today.’ You can’t help but snort in laughter. ‘Please hold on tight and keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times.’ You wrap your arms around his waist tentatively in response. ‘I do hope you enjoy your journey today to- wait, where are we going?’ He spins around in his seat to face you, and for some reason you can’t help but match his wide smile. ‘Heywards,’ you respond, ‘you know it?’ ‘Oh, boy do I!’ He laughs out loud. ‘Yeah, I get now why you don’t wanna be late.’ ‘Yeah.’ You groan, resting your helmet clad head against his back as he turns back around to start up the bike. The engine rumbles beneath you and before you know it the wind is pulling at your hair as you take off down the street and across the Cut. You can’t help but enjoy the feeling. The sun on your skin, the feeling of the boy’s muscles moving against you, the taste of the salt in the air as you pass through the harbour. If you weren’t so worried about being fired then it would feel kind of magical. The pair of you let out a whoop of joy as JJ overtakes the bus, each throwing up your middle fingers at the driver as you pass. You really hope he doesn’t recognise you or tomorrow morning will be awfully awkward. You feel a weird sense of dread as JJ brings the bike to a skidding halt outside Heywards. And it’s not because of the hour, you’ve made up plenty of time racing across the Cut clinging onto him for dear life. You pout a little as you return the helmet. ‘Thank you, JJ.’ and his face splits into a grin at the sound of you saying his name. ‘It’s nothing. You should miss the bus more often.’ You laugh at his brazen comment and catch the kind twinkle in his eyes. You can feel a blush creeping up your neck as his gaze lingers on you for a moment too long. Movement in the shop breaks the moment and you step away from the bike quickly, running a hand through your tousled hair. ‘Well, I better get going’ you grimace, gesturing towards the shop with your thumb. He nods, his face twisted in thought. You offer a tight-lipped smile which he returns reluctantly. ‘Thanks again.’ You barely make three steps when you feel a hand wrap around your arm. You jump a little but find yourself biting your lip against a grin as you come face to face with the boy again. ‘Hi.’ He beams sheepishly. ‘Hi.’ Your stomach does a flip. You notice his tongue run delicately over his front teeth as he smiles down at you. ‘I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna call me sometime? Y’know, if you ever find yourself running late again?’ He surprises himself with how nervous he is, but his words are dripping with charm none the less.

You hold up your phone with a smirk. ‘Dead.’ You shrug and find yourself enjoying how disappointed he looks. ‘But maybe I can give you my number?’ He perks up immediately at your suggestion, rummaging in his pocket and pulling his phone out triumphantly. You shake your head at his eagerness and type your number into his contacts. He watches you walk into the store, waving briefly as Heyward shoos him away. ~ Your day runs pretty smoothly from then on. Heyward even praises you for being a little early that morning. He does shoot you difficult questions about why you were talking to JJ Maybank, however. You kind of like that the boy’s reputation proceeded him. When you finally get around to charging your phone later in the day you have two texts from an unknown number. You smile to yourself as you open them quickly. Y/N, it’s your knight in shining armour. I really hope the rest of your morning isn’t so bad. It really was nice to meet you. - JJ

You feel warm inside at the thought of the boy thinking about how your day was. You scroll down to the next message.

You planning on running late tomorrow too?

And you were seriously considering it. ____________________________________ my requests are open x

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks x reader

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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

Text

jk!mafia drabble #2 | it burns, doesn’t it?

⇁ [anon request]: Im a sucker for the petty angsttt, can you write more about JK & Jiyoon 👀 like, Y/N finds out more stuff about them. 👀👀 its all up to you, anything you write is a masterpiece💜

series: 18/? - It burns, doesn’t it? pairing: Jungkook x reader author’s note: this is a mess but enjoy! thank u for requesting, I got a little creative, I think my recent Taehyung obsession is showing 👀 lol warnings: idk what this is tbh lol, major manipulator themes, slut-shaming (idk kind of not sure if it qualifies but I thought I’d warn you anyway), speculated infidelity, might be triggering to some proceed with caution

You sit across from him at the diner booth, eyes are narrowed at the scrambled eggs greasy bacon. You don't want it.

"Eat a little," Jungkook takes a bite of his bacon, "it's not bad."

"I'm good," You shake your head, insistent on satisfying yourself with the small bowl of grapes. He glances out of the window, not wanting to upset you today, he wants to start the day off right. He offered to take you out of the house for breakfast and you were fine with it. Maybe you two can finally go back to hw things used to be, when the love was young and sweet on the tongue. It’s still sweet, but it’s grown far more complex than what was initially expected. These days, trust is something you have to remind yourself that you need in order to make this work. It’s tough, but you’re trying.

What Taehyung said keeps coming to your mind.

He is a lot of things, but he's not a liar.

***

You were in the garage trying to take the guns apart and put them back together. Jungkook showed you about five times before he left and made sure to take the bullets out so you could practice. You were laser-focused so you paid little attention to the person entering the garage.

"The slide is loose," The gun is lifted from your grasp swiftly, "and the barrel should be placed like this,"

Taehyung promptly puts your attempt to assemble the weapon to shame. When he places the gun on the table in front of you, it's apparent how much practice he's had doing this.

"If you tried to shoot that thing, it would blow your fucking face off."

You lower your head, shy hands picking up the firearm to dismantle it again.

"So, you convinced your daddy to let you play with his toys," He mocks, plundering through the drawers on the walls, "you're moving up, Y/n."

"Piss off," You grimace, resisting the urge to throw something at him, "it's not like that."

"It's just you and me here, everyone else went out for the night, but they should be back soon," He pulls up a chair to your little table and your stomach turns at the proximity.

"Then why are you here? Where's Hoseok?" You remain focused, taking the gun apart with calculated movements. "Why aren’t you with him..."

"I had to come back to get this," He shows you a box but not the contents inside, "didn't think you were still here, Jungkook said you were gonna go with him."

You stare down at the dismantled gun and then up at him. He recently changed his hair, it's out of his face and lighter, making his appearance less ominous than before. But you know better, his looks can't change who he is or what he's done to you. Yet, you sit across from him, choosing not to judge him for his sins. You've killed before, out of defense but you still did it. You don't deserve to be here but grace precedes you somehow—you're grateful.

"Somehow we keep getting the house to ourselves," He sighs, taking out his phone to tap on it mindlessly, "gives me time to get to know you."

"You already know enough about me," You turn the gun on the table, trying to put it back together with the last few steps, "I don't know much about you though."

"You want to?" He crooks a brow.

"Why not? Might as well," You shrug, it couldn't hurt to hear more about who he is. Maybe you'll better understand why he is the way he is, "for one, how did you get into torture?"

He sighs, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I like to think of it as hands-on interrogation. I'm fascinated by the mind, how it can be manipulated to work against itself. I think it’s interesting to break someone down, to hear what I want to hear. If I do it right, they end up forming an attachment to me- Well, not me but to the persona that I choose to subdue them with, like you."

"I'm not attached to you," You frown, "you're mistaking be me being traumatized for submission..."

"It's the same to me, I get the result I want either way."

You are about halfway through assembling the gun but Taehyung suddenly takes it again, stirring frustration in your chest. You try to grab it back but he holds it out of your reach, "Give it back!-"

"Ah, ah," He waits for you to sit back, "I know something that you don't know about Jungkook," He says that like a child, "do you want to know what it is?"

"What're you talking about?"

"He and Jiyoon had a little run-in when you were gone, that night he was going through it. You've probably never seen him like that but it is a sight, I'll tell you that."

* * *

He moves his foot against yours, a grin on his lips that speak pages of what he’s thinking.

"So, I wanted to talk to you, about something," You swallow, dropping the grape back in the bowl.

"About something," He repeats in a cute little mocking tone, "about what beautiful?"

"Did you ever, I don't know...Blackout when we were separated?" You know that sounded pretty vague but he knows what you mean.

"Blackout?" He tilts his head, mentally he rakes through the countless lonely nights. "I might have had too much to drink on some nights, maybe...Why?"

"Because that's the only reason you would touch Jiyoon again...You wouldn't actually do that if you were conscious. I heard you were seen with her..."

"Why are you talking about her?" He frowns, sitting back in the booth.

"Taehyung told me you were on a downward spiral one night and you didn't come back until the next morning, were you with her?..."

* * *

"You have to admit, you're not what anyone would have thought he'd end up with. Jiyoon literally sleeps around as apart-time job, she's good at it so I don't know how you could compete with that and win."

You feel like you're decreasing the more he talks.

"He may not act like it now, but he was crazy about her years ago. I mean, she's beautiful, she worked for his lifestyle and they had a mutual understanding. When you came around, they had broken up with each other about a year prior, he got over her fast though."

“I know that..." You knew Jiyoon and Jungkook had a lot of history, but you made peace with it and you know he loves you.

"I ran into her after that night, she said he acted like you two weren't together anymore. He let her have it like he used to," He looks up at you, waiting for you to look him in the eye but you seem to diminish in size while avoiding eye contact, "that's what she claims."

"What do you mean?" You press your lips in a flat line.

"You know what I mean," He jeers, swiping a tongue over his bottom lip. "unless you really are that innocent, which I don’t think you are."

"He wouldn’t do that..."

"Well, it would make sense," He stands to his feet suddenly, gun still in hand as he paces around the table, "what did you expect? You were fucking with Jimin, it’s what you get."

"It wasn't like that!” You surprise yourself when your hear your raised tone of voice, “Jimin is a friend, that’s it, I wo"

"Maybe you were mad at Jungkook, and you might have just subconsciously tried to replace him. If you would lay down with Jimin, well I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted a piece of the others, that would be interesting," He is just being mean now, he knows that would never happen, not even if you wanted it, "or even me. You seem to drop everything for men who can protect you,"

"Shut up, you’re disgusting...I don’t want any of you like that. And even if I did, that part of my life is none of your fucking business.” You hiss, fists clenched tightly. “I wouldn’t do something like that/”

“Of course you haven’t done anything too crazy, what would Jungkook think about? If he still wanted you, he would probably take you in front of anyone he wanted just to prove a point-”

You sling your hand across his face with enough force to leave it burning. His cheek is bright red and you’re fuming. You look him dead in the eyes, "Fuck you."

“Shit, Y/n,” He genuinely laughs, setting the gun on the table so he can hold his burning cheek. "Jungkook can go off and do whatever the hell he wants but you? You don't have that luxury, he leaves you here for me to play with, and this is how you treat me? isn’t that just sad?"

"Shut up!" You pick up the gun and before you know it you're throwing it and it misses his face by a centimetre. "I'm in a twisted situation and you make it a hundred times worse. You torment me knowing Jungkook cares about me, you want me to hate him. You want him to hate me. The same crap you tell me, you probably tell to him too."

He takes a moment to think over his response before walking up to you slowly. Instinctively, you take a step back and stand firm.

"Ask him." He dares. "Ask Jungkook if he remembers what happened that night."

"I don't have to, I trust him." You want to disappear. You don’t believe what’s coming out of his mouth or yours.

"Okay, just know that I don’t blame you for wanting any other man...You were both lonely, Jungkook had his fair share fun while you were away too."

He’s messing with your head, that’s all he’s ever done to you.

Right?

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likesomekindofcheese · 4 years

Text

The Nurse and the Skywalker (6 Undergound Oneshot)

Paring: Four/Billy x nurse! Reader

Word Count: 1847

From anon request: Can you do one with Ben( as 4/Billy in underground 6) getting injured and you’re a no-nonsense nurse having to tend to his wounds and he flirts with you at first, but then he gets serious/tender and vulnerable with you and it makes your heart melt?

Warnings: Swearing, hospitals, mentions of blood, illness, surgery, and injuries.

A/N: Thanks for your patience! Much thanks to @rhapsodyrecs for suggesting a great line! As well as @yourlocalmusicalprostitute and @joeneslee when writers block got me in this one!

The afternoon coffee you had been sipping was gulped in one hot swig when your co-worker ran in, yelling “Y/N! It’s an emergency! You need to hurry!”

The 12-hour shift and it’s exhaustion was forgotten at the words. Your shoes squeaked against the floor as you were led into the room.

“A young man-he has a bad injury-he’s been shot and his bones are broken too!” she cried.

Looking over, the patient was young. Not too far from your own age in fact. He was groaning in pain. His arm and leg were broken. But you noticed a few gashes here and there. Still bleeding. A lot. But he looked up and kept his eyes on you. As you reached over to see some charts the mysterious man left and what could be known, you felt his eyes, and saw him even crane his neck just to keep an eye out on you.

Maybe I spilled something on my scrubs you thought, dismissing the notion as they wheeled his bed out into the hallway.

“Quick, give me the anathesea- and a surgeon- we can get the bullet out, but we have to be swift!”

You were handed the pain medicine to give to the patient.

As you put the tube over his mouth, he glanced up at you. His eyes were as green as a field on a picnic day. And you noticed his hair as well-it was cut short but very blonde.

“I…I’m scared…please don’t…” he muttered lowly.

You felt your guts stir at the sound. He was deeply hurt. If he didn’t have the bullet removed, he was a goner.

“What is your name…?” you asked.

“I…don’t…have…a name…” he croaked.

He turned ghostly white and then pink.

“I…I’m sorry, I should have been stronger…thought I could make that jump…I couldn’t. I’m not that fucking strong…” he muttered.

“Who dropped him off?” you asked your co-worker.

She shrugged.

“This guy with a beard and this weird voice and then after we got the kid on a bed, he just vanished with all the bills paid already in cash! The guy was loaded!” she gossiped, tugging at her bright pink scrubs.

Turning to the patient, you forced him to look right into your eyes.“Okay mister, you don’t have a choice. You got lucky someone paid all of your bills, so you better suck it up and be grateful, got it?” you scolded.

He looked at you blankly before you put it right to his mouth and wheeled him to the surgeon’s office.

Two hours later you got word that the boy got lucky. The bullet was found and removed. It wasn’t too deep and nowhere near any vital organs. But he seemed to be ill and needed to be checked up and have his limbs bandaged.

“Here he is…he’s still on the pain medicine some, so he might be a little loopy…” the surgeon warned, before leaving you alone in the room to do your work.

“Hello…I’m Y/N, I’m your nurse…hang in there, you’re gonna be fine…” you said, he seemed half asleep. Almost in another world. There was no reply.You were checking his blood pressure when his eyes fluttered open. Your head whipped around as you tied the black strap tightly around his arm.

“Hey there…” he croaked out.

“Checking your blood pressure, hold up…” you mumbled, making it tight as possible.

“I must be in a museum…” he said softly.

“Well, I don’t see any Da Vinci any…”

“Because you’re a piece of art.”

Your jaw dropped and your head whipped around to see him. Did that really come out of him? Moments after he was near death.

“Pardon?”

He gave you a half smile and you felt a blush creeping up on you and it made you mad. Of all places this was happening- at work!

Did a patient really just flirt with me? Maybe it’s just my imagination.

You undid the black strap and set it away without a word, writing down the numbers. He reached over and picked up the menu of food options to be ordered for patients.

“Do you know what’s on the menu?” he asked.

“Vegetables. You better order some with your dinner. Eat up, your body’s in bad enough condition…”

“Close, but it’s Me ‘n you.” He added with a devilish grin.

Your ears heard it right alright. You felt them grow hot.

“You know what else is on the menu? This antiseptic,” you ordered. Walking over to the side and getting an orange bottle and some cotton balls, eyes on his wounds. As you began to apply some to the cuts, the cool guy façade dropped.

“NNNnnnnng, no! No! And I’m sorry! Won’t do it! Won’t do it!” he whined. His voice getting a little higher than what was considered manly.

“Just shut up and suck it up, Romeo,” you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

The next day a woman arrived to check on the patient. A beautiful woman with tan skin and yellow hair with a white suit. You felt envy twinge in your stomach as her heels clicked on the tile floor.

She went into the room. If only you did not have duties currently. But no, scratch it, you weren’t interested. Not some cheeky patient that was trying to break all the medical oaths in the book. Passing by the room to put away your lunch box, you forced your ears shut at the quiet conversation they had.

As you returned, she left the door of the room. She looked up at you and pointed at you to come near.

“You are nurse Y/N, right?” she asked in a European accent.

“Yes, I am.”

She glanced around to see if anyone was listening in. Then she leaned closer.

“How long have you worked here?” she asked.

You told her.

“Good, you know what you’re doing. We…we just need a bit of help. He’s on…on my company. He got hurt. Badly.” She said softly.

Yeah, no shit you thought.

“What caused the wounds? I think he mentioned a jump…” you asked, folding your arms skeptically. What kind of sketchy company was this that was all hush and made gallons of money where people got shot?

Her pink lips tightened, she glanced to the left and then answered “It was a fall. Bad one. Just…an accident.”

“What’s your name? And what’s his name? Why did he get shot? Was there a shooting at your job?” you asked.

“We would prefer to be anonymous,” she answered coldly.

“What, why?”

“For protection. He’s here to get better, right?” she answered with a twinge of annoyed anger.

“Yes…”

“Don’t hurt him, then…or make him do anything to hurt himself more…”

She turned around and clicked away, but gave you one look, softened. As if to silently say thank you- even if you did ask questions about whatever this “company” was.

Hours later, you came into the room with the patient. Though you armed yourself to fight off like the black cat with Pepe le Pew, he looked at you and glanced down at his lap. His left arm and right foot was in a cast and he seemed red as a beet in his face. But the light in his eyes were glazed, but had dimmed. And he seemed in pain.

His forehead was like a furnace. Sticking a thermometer in his mouth, you watched the numbers rise above healthy at the end. Gently, you pulled it out to put it away.

A half-grin reappeared on his face.

“Is it hot in here or is it just you?” he said.

“No, you got a fever dumbass,” you replied.

You showed him the temperature and he huffed lightly.

“Well, you will have to stay here a bit longer. Injured and sick. It doesn’t seem bad, but it’s still a double whammy. Three or four days…” you said,

He pulled out his free hand to play with his phone, pouting in defeat. You stayed to type into the pad you used for work to keep track of patients charts.

“Bi-billy…”

“Hm, what?” you said, turning around.

“You wanted my name, I’m…I’m Billy…” he confessed.

“Okay, thank you! I can finally call you something other than Romeo,” you jested.

“That’s not a bad name, either though,” he said.

The doctor working on him informed you that his fever did have a chance of breaking in the night. You offered to stay.

“Why, Y/N…you’re worried about him?” the doctor asked, cocking her head.

You shook away the creeping blush and smile growing on you.

“I just want the extra hours for pay!” you insisted.

You stayed there, reading with him. You realized what he was doing on his phone- watching movies.

“American movies are the best, like, us on the Pond get all the boring, slow stuff- America is where the real movies are!” he commented when you glanced over.

“Hey- that one’s my favorite!” you cried, recognizing it at once.

Indulging it, you watched the rest of it. Talking about your favorite actors, quoting the lines, and smiling ear to ear by the time the credits rolled by on the tiny screen.

“I was so scared…I was gonna die…” Billy confessed, setting the phone down.

“It’s just medicine,” you scoffed.

“No…when I fell…” he said.

“Really?” you asked, leaving the sarcasm.

“I felt that was it. You see…I…no, I shouldn’t…” he mumbled, looking down.

“You can tell me…” you urged.

“I got a chance to…uh, do something important. It was risky, but it was better than what I had before but I…I thought I was dead for good because I slipped and fell…” he added on.

Recalling the first day, he had a bullet in his body as well. How did that get in there? There was no news you checked of a shooting anywhere.

“And you were shot…how did you get shot?” you questioned.

“I…I can’t tell you everything but I just feel…I can trust you…someone was in danger…and I was trying to get him out and some’ow…I got shot and I fell off…” Billy explained.

“Fell off? Of what?”

“The skyscraper downtown…” he confessed, eyes down to his lap again.

“What! No! That’s a hundred feet high! How in hell are you even alive?” you gasped.

He looked at you and laughed.

“That’s some bad fucking words for a medical professional!” he teased. “But that’s a good question, really…”

Outside the window, a bird sat in the darkness on the pane. Its feathers seemed to glean in the moonlight. It was a clear night, even a sky filled with stars could be seen despite the smoke of the city

“I…I’m glad you survived. I’m glad you didn’t die and so you could- you know- help whoever this person is you were trying to help,” you commented. And this time you smiled back.

“I…I’m glad you were there to help me…dunno what I’ll do next time I’ll fall…” he said.

“I should be there then…”

Taglist: @themarchoftherainbowqueen @rhapsodyrecs (thanks for the wonderful line!) @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @sgt-stardust-killer-queen @queenlover05 @lady-ofmischief

#nurse! reader #nurse! y/n #6 underground #ben hardy characters #four/billy #four/billy x reader #four/billy x you #four/billy x y/n #ben hardy #ben hardy x you #ben hardy x y/n #ben hardy x reader #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground fanfic #6 underground oneshot #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy oneshot #carrie writes

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