#thank you gin i owe you my life
Text
Normal People
Lukas Matsson x (fem)Reader, Roman Roy x (fem)Reader
word count: 3k - read on Ao3 here!
NFSW: 18+ ONLY
You first met him at Kendall’s birthday party.
Roman was being obnoxious. All he could talk about was finding Lukas Matsson. He and Shiv were relentless in their pursuit of the man. It was all business, no pleasure tonight. So while Roman and Shiv stood with their heads together, compulsively sipping vodka tonics, you slipped away unnoticed to try and have some fun before the night was over.
You found your way upstairs, where for some inexplicable reason Kendall had built a replica of his childhood treehouse. The inside was bustling with people yet the two buff men outside wouldn’t let you enter without an armband. Dejected, you started to turn away, when you heard Kendall’s voice from above.
“Hey! Let her through, she’s cool!”
He was pointing right at you with a grin. The guards moved aside, letting you in.
Upstairs, Kendall greeted you with a hug.
“Nice treehouse,” you said.
“Thanks. It’s pretty infantile, right? Sort of the vibe I was going for.”
“Definitely. You nailed it.”
“Hey, I need a favor while you’re here. See that guy over there?”
He nodded over his shoulder to a tall blonde Scandinavian-looking man slouching alone in a plush leather chair.
“Who is that?”
“That’s Lukas Matsson. He’s pretty disgruntled and I need someone to keep him from wandering. I can’t do it anymore, I need to mingle. Also, Roman cannot know he’s here.”
“Roman’s entire purpose in life tonight is to find that guy.”
“Please don’t tell him he’s here. I’ll owe you one. Seriously.
“Don’t worry. Roman’s driving me fucking crazy at the moment.”
“Amazing. You’re amazing. Let me get you a drink and I’ll introduce you.”
Kendall stepped away. You glanced curiously in Lukas’s direction. He glanced up from his phone, met your eyes, and did a double take. He stared at you for a long moment across the room.
Kendall returned with your drink, breaking your gaze.
“Let’s go. You’re about to meet one of the weirdest rich guys out there.”
Drinks in hand, you approached the man. He kept his eyes fixed on yours.
“Yo, Lukas. Meet my good friend Y/N. I promise she’s not going to network you to death.”
Kendall clapped him on the shoulder.
“You guys have fun.”
You thought you saw Kendall wink, but it was too quick, and then he was gone.
“Kendall thinks I need a babysitter tonight,” Lukas said. “Too many sharks in the water.”
“Thankfully I don’t have any interest in what Kendall and his family does. I’m just along for the ride.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a writer.”
“What do you write?”
“Words, mostly.”
Lukas cracked the smallest grin.
“Is that, like, meaningful for you?” he asked.
“I don’t really care if it has meaning or not. Mostly it keeps me entertained.”
“Cheers to that.”
He raised his beer bottle and clinked it against your glass of gin and tonic.
“So you know all of the Roy siblings?” Lukas said.
“Too well.”
“Which one’s your favorite?”
“Do I have to have a favorite?”
“It’ll say a lot about you. I’m still figuring out who I’m talking to here.”
You considered briefly.
“I think I relate to Kendall the most.”
“Daddy issues?”
You laughed. “I’m not going there. But if I had to pick a favorite… Roman is the most fun to be around.”
“So you like fun.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t relate to what most people think of as fun.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Partying. Getting drunk. Rollercoasters.”
You burst out laughing.
“What?” he said.
“Rollercoasters?”
“People find them fun, right? You tell me. What’s fun to you?”
“Not rollercoasters.”
Lukas considered you with a curious, calculating look.
“I’m starting to think you’re not a normal person,” he said.
“I could tell you weren’t normal the second I looked over here.”
You gave him a sly smile. He set his beer down and folded his hands in his lap.
“I’ve got to get out of this treehouse,” he said.
“You don’t think the treehouse is fun?”
“I’d like to find out what your idea of fun is. You still haven’t told me.”
You gazed at him for a long moment. Then you heard an all-too-familiar voice over your shoulder.
“There you are. Both of you.”
Roman was leaning over you with his hands on the back of your chair.
“This is a weird pairing. What are you guys even talking about?”
“Rollercoasters,” Lukas said.
You smiled, catching his eye once more before you stood.
“I’ll let you guys talk.”
“I’ll see you later, though, yeah?” Roman called. You glanced at Lukas, who had put everything together in an instant.
“If you can find me,” you said as you left.
When you glanced back over your shoulder, Lukas was staring at his phone again and Roman was sitting cross-legged in your chair, trying unsuccessfully to get his attention.
Not long after, you found yourself in Italy, lying poolside beneath the mild northern sun. Eyes closed, you felt a shadow pass over your vision and cracked your eyes open. Roman sat in the neighboring beach chair, squinting in the light.
“I forgot how much I hated the sun.”
He leaned back uncomfortably in the chair.
“So, I have a mission for you. For both of us.”
“What?”
“Guess who lives right across the lake.”
“Who? Stop making me ask questions.”
“Our old buddy Lukas Matsson.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“Who?”
Roman grinned.
“You know who. You’re literally blushing.”
“It’s the sun.”
“I know you’ve been wondering how big his dick is.”
“Roman, what the fuck?”
“Hey, it’s fine. I mean, you still haven’t seen mine. It’s only healthy to think about other men’s dicks every now and then.”
“Jesus…”
“Look, seriously. I need your help. I have to convince him to make this deal. But I don’t think he likes me all that much. If you’re there, maybe he’ll perk up enough to listen to me. I mean, the man’s practically comatose.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I need you to get him a little hard, metaphorically speaking. He’ll want to show off his big dick in front of you by making this deal.”
“Stop saying ‘dick’. This is sounding really fucking weird.”
“Like I’m trying to whore you out to him?”
“Yeah. Exactly that.”
“Come on. You don’t have to do anything. Unless, you know, you want to.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. You gave a sigh.
“When are you leaving?”
“Soon. Now, actually. Can you put some clothes on? The bikini might be overkill.”
“God dammit, Roman.”
You stood up and grabbed the towel from the back of your chair. He grabbed your hand gently.
“Hey.”
You paused, gazing down at him, the quirky smile flashing, eyes obscured behind his dark sunglasses.
“You’re my secret weapon.”
You were on the boat less than half an hour later, speeding across Lake Como in the warm air.
“That’s his place,” Roman said, indicating the approaching villa. Tall cypress trees swayed in the lake breeze, revealing a stuccoed exterior and red tile roof. A hidden paradise nestled at the foot of the Alps.
“You’re shitting me.”
Roman grinned.
Lukas was waiting for you on the dock. He was barefoot, in a black t-shirt and white linen pants. His dark blue eyes glinted in the light reflecting off the lake.
Roman disembarked first, turning to lend you a hand. You felt Lukas watching the two of you.
"There you are, you tall motherfucker," Roman said, stepping forward to greet him. He shook Roman’s hand, then turned his gaze to you.
“You remember Y/N, right?” Roman said. “I think I interrupted your little party in the treehouse.”
“So you two are together?”
“Well, we haven’t fucked yet if that’s what you mean,” Roman said.
Lukas glanced at you. You rolled your eyes discreetly.
“I feel like I shouldn’t ask,” Lukas said.
“Oh, it’s all me. Not her fault.”
Lukas led the two of you to a patio shaded from the sun. His property was quiet, beautiful, secluded. It was strange to imagine him padding around the villa in his bare feet, alone. He reclined on a wicker sofa while you took a seat nearby.
Roman was looking at his phone, suddenly serious.
“What is it?” you said.
“I gotta take this. Sorry, guys.”
He stepped away, leaving you alone with Lukas. He reclined on a beige sofa, glancing at you with his hands folded in his lap.
“I was wondering if I’d see you again,” he said. “Where did we leave off?”
“I don’t remember. It was a long night.”
“When you said Roman was your favorite, I didn’t realize why.”
“It’s pretty complicated.”
“Sounds like it.” Lukas paused. “You guys really haven’t fucked?”
“It’s just… not like that. I know it sounds weird.”
“How long have you been together?”
“About a year.”
He let out a low whistle.
“So does that mean… I mean, are you guys exclusive?”
“So far. Yeah.”
You gazed at each other silently. Roman returned, phone in hand.
“Hey guys, I gotta run. But I’ll be back. Is it cool if she stays?”
“It’s fine,” Lukas said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just family stuff. Kendall,” he added, glancing at you.
You nodded, unable to tell if he was bluffing or not.
“Try not to talk business without me,” Roman said. He turned and jogged back towards the dock. You heard the boat engine start as he sped off across the lake.
“Fun,” Lukas said.
You looked at him in confusion.
“We were talking about fun.”
He was gazing at you, broad shoulders in the dappled sunlight, his eyes calm.
“Do you want to see the rest of the house?”
You followed him inside, bare feet on the cool terracotta floor, a warm breeze moving through the open rooms. The villa was exquisitely decorated, a blend of modern art and traditional Italian motifs. Green and gold curtains, plush beige sofas, a gleaming oak dining table.
“You live alone?”
“Yeah. To be honest, I don’t like living with other people.”
“I know what you mean.”
“You and Roman don’t live together?
“Let’s stop talking about Roman.”
You paused in the doorway of a bedroom that opened onto a patio overlooking the lake. The sheer curtains lifted in the breeze. You felt Lukas glance at you.
“The downstairs is all for show. I live upstairs. Do you want to see?”
The upstairs was a loft with exposed beams and skylights. In contrast to the overblown downstairs decoration, everything here was black, white, grey. This was where Lukas’s preference for Scandinavian minimalism became apparent. He was so tall that he had to stoop in certain places. You peered into his office, sparsely decorated with a wooden desk, MacBook and high-end stereo system.
“This is where I get my thinking done. I really don’t like having visitors in general. Present company excepted.”
His bedroom was adjacent to the office. Again you lingered in the doorway, hesitant to enter his private quarters. He leaned on the doorframe across from you and folded his arms. He looked straight at you.
“So,” he said.
“So...?”
“Kendall’s birthday party. I had every intention of inviting you back to my room.”
“Roman ruined your plans, huh?”
“Pretty much. But then he brought you here.”
You went silent, gazing back at him. The blonde stubble, heavy brow, hard blue eyes. Something in him both frightening and compelling. Impenetrable but vulnerable. He was tan from the summer sun, calm and cool. He seemed curious to see what your next move would be. And he was willing to wait you out.
You meandered into the bedroom, glancing around at his possessions. A shelf full of books: classics, modern novels, books on tech. A stray pair of headphones. A solitary person’s existence.
He followed you in, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. You turned around to face him.
“Roman brought me here to help make the deal for his dad,” you said.
“I know that. I don’t care. I’ve already made my decision.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
You stepped up to him, feet nearly touching. He watched you with the faint smile of someone who has been alone for a long time observing a newcomer in their space.
“Let’s not fuck around any longer,” he whispered.
Almost before he had finished speaking, you leaned down to kiss him. He kissed you back, long, deep kisses, like he had missed you intensely in your brief, inexplicable absence from his life. His hands slid up your back. You sank onto his lap, straddling him as his hands moved lower, exploring your unfamiliar form.
You ran your hands through his hair, along the back of his neck, across his broad shoulders. You slid your hands beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling his toned arms. You kissed his neck, the sound of his rasping breath in your ear.
“Did you think of me at all?” he whispered.
“I couldn’t stop,” you breathed.
You felt a throb as he grew harder beneath you. You pushed him back onto the bed and ground against him as he swiftly unbuttoned your shirt then shed his own. He pulled you down against him, kissing your neck, your shoulders, his stubble brushing your skin.
“You really haven’t been fucked in a year?”
You shook your head, gasping at his touch, unable to speak.
“Time to change that.”
He deftly changed positions with you, so that you were lying half-dressed beneath him. Now you had a full view of him, his bare torso, ruffled blonde hair, the intensity in his eyes. He unzipped his pants and slid out of them.
“Oh my god,” you said, unable to stop yourself. Lukas grinned, breathless.
“What?”
“You’re fucking huge.”
He tugged your pants off, gripping his cock, and without any further delay, slid swiftly into you.
You let out a long, vocal moan. It had been too long. Everything in you had been aching for him. He watched your every reaction, the slight grin on his face, his eyes glittering. You bucked against him, running your hands over his lean body as he slowly, firmly pounded into you. You gripped his forearm for dear life.
“Fuck, Lukas”
“Yeah? Is that good?”
You groaned in response as he leaned into you, his hot, sticky skin against yours, running along the length of your body with his bulk. He gripped your wrists, pinning you lightly as he pulsed in and out of you. You sank your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder, and he held you down harder.
“You feel like you want to come,” he murmured.
“Mmhmm.”
“You’re so fucking wet.”
You dug your fingers into his back, feeling your entire body tense up.
“It’s been so long. You’re ready to fucking burst.”
He slid his thumb into your mouth and you bit down on it. There were starbursts behind your eyes. His voice in your ear.
“There you go. Let me hear you. I want to hear you.”
That was it. You let go, back arched, thighs tensed, warmth spreading across your body as you let out a half-moan, half-scream. You heard Lukas groan and stiffen, his hand twined in your hair.
You stayed like that for a long moment, breathing into each other’s mouths. Finally he rolled off of you, shining with a light cover of sweat. You lay side by side, recovering.
“Fuck,” you whimpered.
“Is that what you wanted?”
“Fuck yes.”
You felt his fingers brush along your forearm. He was gazing at you from his pillow.
“You can come closer. If you want.”
You gladly complied, feeling his arm encircle you as you found a place against his chest. Your eyes traced his unfamiliar body. A tuft of blonde chest hair, a scar below his ribcage, a small birthmark near the belly button. But you didn’t touch him further. This was still new, the boundaries not yet established. Perhaps Lukas didn’t want to be touched in a tender, loving way. Perhaps you didn’t either.
“I wish we had more time,” he murmured. “There’s a lot more I want to do with you.”
“I was very pent-up,” you said, half-apologizing.
“No, it’s fine. It’s good when it’s fast sometimes. Plus I’m not great at seductive gestures.”
“This is only the second time we've met and you made me come. That just doesn’t happen.”
He gave a slight laugh, a low sound deep in his chest. He stroked your shoulder with his thumb briefly.
“I mean I’m not a normal person. Some things people want from me, I just can’t give them.”
“You’re talking to someone who’s been dating Roman Roy for a year and a half. I go without a lot of things.”
You gazed down his body, his skin soft and tan in the natural light.
“Plus, there’s probably a lot I can’t give you,” you murmured. “Remember, I’m not normal either.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want normal. I get bored easily.”
From the open window, you could hear the sound of the lake lapping against the shore. Then, growing in the distance, the high whine of a motor.
“Well,” said Lukas with a note of finality.
“What do we do?”
He turned on his side, looking straight at you again with that penetrating gaze.
“I think we need to see each other again,” he said.
“Okay.”
Without another word, he sat up, sliding into his pants. You savored the sight of his torso as he pulled on his shirt. You dressed quickly then met him in the doorway, where you paused. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, then leaned down and kissed you once, warm and deep. He held your eyes for a long moment. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead he smiled slightly to himself and started down the stairs. You followed, eyes lingering on the back of his neck, his shoulders.
Roman met you on the green lawn. His hair and clothes were windblown and disheveled but he was grinning.
“Hey kids. Have fun without me?”
“Just showing her around the property.”
“I bet you did. Hey, I know it was shitty for me to run out like that, so if you want to talk about the deal another time, we’ll get out of your hair.”
“We don’t need to talk about it. I want to do it.”
Roman raised his eyebrows. “Well, shit. Are you sure, man?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. I’m sure.”
Roman grabbed his hand and shook it with a grin. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”
“I guess we will.”
Lukas’s eyes flashed in your direction. You smiled slightly and looked away.
On the boat ride back, Roman was strangely silent. He had a secretive grin on his face and his eyes were obscured behind his dark glasses. Then he unexpectedly turned to you, grabbed your face between his hands, and kissed you on the mouth.
“It worked. It fucking worked.”
He held your hand the rest of the way back to his mother’s villa. It was the first time in a year and a half of dating that he had done so.
#i did a thing#lukas matsson x reader#lukas matsson/reader#succession#lukas matsson#roman roy#roman roy x reader#roman roy/reader#alexander skarsgard
645 notes
·
View notes
Note
Congratulations on hitting 4K!
May I please request:
#PL1
Rooster, Smut - “Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.”
Thank you so much!
Warnings: Mentions of possible breast cancer. No actual smut ahead. Roommate reader x Bradley Bradshaw
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**
You were supposed to meet Rooster at the Hard Deck after your appointment, but when you actually finished with the tests you had to get done–the shower back at your shared apartment seemed like a better place to break down than in the middle of the Hard Deck that would surely be teaming with Naval Aviators.
“Y/n?” Bradley began to grow increasingly more impatient as he got no response from you. “Y/n, come on, open the door?” He groaned as he tried turning the handle. He knew it wouldn't work, that it wouldn't open the door that separated him from his housemate, colleague, friend and above all the love of his life. “You've been in there for over an hour, open the door?”
Rooster could do all the knocking and all the begging he wanted but you were in too deep in the shower you were enjoying. Or just using it as a coping mechanism to ward off the impending doom you felt had been cast over you ever since you took those stupid tests. Whatever way you wanted to look at the situation unfolding–you still weren't going to unlock the bathroom door and allow Rooster to come on in and assert his unwanted opinion on the matter.
“Cover up, I'm coming in!” Bradley announced as he picked the lock on the bathroom door, giving you approximately three point five seconds to do literally nothing as you stood in the shower under the stream of hot water and drank your version of a Gin Sour from one of your fancy cocktail glasses. To Bradleys surprise when he finally made his way into the bathroom you’d been in for the better half of probably an hour and a half, you had not done what he’d asked and covered up. “Holy shit–” He sighed as he brought a hand up to cover his eyes as they threatened to trail higher than up your very naked, very wet legs. “What the hell are you doing in here? Our fucking water bill is gonna be insane!”
“I'm basking in the glory of my imminent death Bradshaw–” You mumbled as you took another sip of your cocktail. “Doctor Rodriguez told me to enjoy the little things, so here I am, enjoying what was a perfectly good shower until you started banging on the door.”
“What do you mean imminent death Clov, I thought you were just going for a check up this afternoon?” Bradley questioned as he turned away to lean on the shower door, facing away from you so he could uncover his eyes from the palm of his hands. “You never showed at the Hard Deck and weren’t returning my calls so I came straight home–spill.” Bradley pressed. “What gives with the crazy ass water usage.” You took another sip of your drink and thought about if you really wanted to go into heavy detail with Rooster about your health, or the possibility of your not so good health. He was only your housemate. Your colleague, there was no commitment to care. He didn't owe you anything–but something in the way he so desperately needed to be in the same bathroom as you made you think he cared enough to want to know the truth.
“You really wanna know?”
“Absolutely–'' There was no hesitation in Rooster's voice, no regret in his tone or fear that you'd drown on for hours and hours. He just wanted to know if you were okay, if you were alright. Because unbeknownst to you, you were the love of Bradley Bradshaw's life. “Spill the beans Clover.” So that's exactly what you did as you placed your cocktail down on the little rack and reached out for your shampoo bottle.
“I didn't just go in for a random check up–” Bradley could gather that much himself but you thought it may have been a good place to start. “I actually went to get a test done, with the oncologist that diagnosed my mum a few years ago.” Bradley also knew that much like himself, you had lost your mother too, but much more recently than he lost his.
“Cancer?”
“Brca.” You replied and Bradley remained silent as he turned slightly to watch your sudsy hair fall down your exposed back. He didn't dare look down to where your ass began to swell. “It's a gene, I went to find out if I inherited a genetic mutation from my mum that means I'm probably gonna die of breast cancer.” You scoffed. “Little gene might even throw in ovarian cancer, free or charge just to make sure I'm good and dead.”
“And?”
“I don't find out the results for a couple of days but I'm preparing myself for the worst, hoping for the best.”
“I'm sorry–” All Bradley wanted to do in the moment was hold you, give you false hope and tell you everything was gonna be alright. He was pretty good at that.
“Yeah, it's a tough break for me right.” You paused as you turned around, not caring enough about the fact you were standing before Bradley Bradshaw fully exposed with just the glass shower screen between you. “But you wanna know the real pisser though?” You asked as Bradley just stared at you like he was trying to process everything you were telling him. “There are two variations of the gene—if I have one, then eventually having children will reduce my chances of getting cancer, but if I have the other? Then well—it’s uh, it increases my chances.”
There was no hiding the tears that had fallen freely down your cheeks as you washed the shampoo from your hair. As you closed your eyes and focused on the stream, Braldey started removing articles of clothing. His signature throw over hawaiian shirt, his actual T-shirt, jeans, boxer briefs and slowly opened the shower door.
“My sister Casey got tested a few years ago, she has the ‘baby good’ kinda death gene, so she got her buddy Andre to knock her up pretty quickly.” It was then when you opened your eyes after rubbing away the tears that you saw Rooster now standing in the shower with you. Chest to chest, you didn’t dare look down. “My other sister Lauren, daddy’s little girl—is of course, clean as driven snow.
“You’ve never been tested before?” Bradley asked as he stepped a little closer, you handn’t asked what he was doing or told him to get the fuck out so he took it as his sign to persue on. Deciding to reach out and push some of the wet strands of your hair behind your ear before he settled in to cup your cheek.
“Fuck no—why would I wanna know if I was gonna live or die?” You smiled softly and Rooster did the same, you couldn’t help but to look down at his chest, to his torso and quickly at his manscaped pubic hair. Fuck.
“Can the doctors do anything? If you uh, have the ‘baby bad’ kinda gene?” Bradley asked softly as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across your cheek to grab your attention. “Because if they can, then know I’m gonna be there by your side every step of the way.”
“Rooster, I don't need your sympathy.” You shook your head as Bradley brought his free hand up to cup your other cheek as he stepped you into the corner. “What are you doing?”
“It’s not sympathy, it’s just the truth.” Bradley was quick to establish the fact before he leaned in to kiss you softly and ever so deeply. You couldn’t help but to melt into his warmth, his touch. “And I’m doing what I should’ve done alone time ago before you had the chance to scare the fuck out of me.”
“Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” You bit Bradley’s bottom lip softly as he pulled away to look at you. Look at you real hard because you were everything he wanted and he needed you to know that before you eventually found out what Brca gene you had.
“I’ve never seen so sure of something before in my life.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**
Leah’s 4k Celebration 🎊
#Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊#rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradleybradshaw#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw#rooster fluff#rooster x reader#rooster angst
252 notes
·
View notes
Note
pls pls do your eyes tell by bts to lestappen and angst cause istg the way they look at each other 😭
Hi darling anon!!!!!!💖💖💖 thank you so much for the song prompt, I fucking love bts and this jk song is so good!!!!!! Hope you like what I wrote, it's nearly 1k!!!💖💖
your eyes tell - prompt post
Max looks at Charles in the club, dancing and enjoying having a random girl grinding on him, drunk but with still a drink in his hand. The heavy bass of the drums makes his heart feel like it’s leaping out of its place. He watches as Charles drags his free hand from her neck down her curves, resting on her ass, underneath her dress. Max bets the skin is impossibly smooth and plump.
He shakes his head and goes back to his gin and tonic. Alex and George, next to him, are lively talking about some stupid mechanical component of their cars. Max feels tired of cars for the first time in his life. He goes back to watching Charles eat that girl’s mouth out with drunk fervour. He’s rapt because of the sight. She keeps one hand on his face and the other sliding down his chest, feeling his defined abs.
Max rolls his eyes. It’s going to be a long night. Charles is staying in the room in front of his, and Max doesn’t have enough depravity to witness that too. He takes the last sip of his drink and casts one last glance at Charles. He’s sucking on the girl’s neck but he’s staring right at Max. Max shakes his head and raises his empty glass to him before turning around and walking away.
He pats George and Alex on their backs as a goodbye and calls a cab to get back to his hotel. Looking for someone is not something for that night.
He meets Carlos and his girlfriend in the lobby and stays for a little with them to talk. Charles and the girl walk past them, too busy grabbing and kissing to notice them. Carlos sighs and complains about Charles’ behaviour. Max laughs it off, but Carlos knows they share the same concern. It’s been going on for a while and it would be better for him to stop.
“I’m going to sleep, see you tomorrow at the airport?” Max says after a good chat, hugging Carlos and kissing his girlfriend’s cheeks.
Carlos nods and Max walks to the elevators. The ride is quiet and Max enjoys the silence while it lasts. He walks to his room and the whole hall is silent. Weird. He shakes his head and swipes his key inside. He takes off his clothes and treats himself to a nice hot shower. When he's done he dries himself up, dries his hair, puts on a comfy white cotton t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Everything is still so quiet. He opens a bottle of water and takes a sip. He had just a drink that night, so the morning would be nice to him.
Max considers watching a movie, but a knock on his hotel door gives him other plans. He furrows his brows and sets down the water bottle. Thinking it could be either Carlos or Lando, he opens the door.
Charles is standing right in front of him. He ditched the club outfit for a simple oversized red sweater, covering his upper thighs. Max is surprised, but he lets him in without uttering a word. Who is he to give Charles Leclerc the talk?
“Early night?” Max asks after Charles sits on his bed, soft hair hidden underneath the hood.
“Too drunk. She didn't remember my name and I was sick. Called a cab and her friends and sent her home…” Charles explains. Max wasn't really interested in knowing the truth. Charles doesn't owe him anything.
“Movie?” Max asks and Charles nods.
“Don't laugh, but I bought the Devil Wears Prada on the payTV of the hotel, is it okay?” Max continues. Charles nods again with a small smile.
Max puts on the movie and sits on the bed next to Charles. It’s a strange situation, they’ve never done anything like it. Their comfort zone is the track, sometimes a padel court. Sharing a bed is something Max never allowed himself to think about.
“Do you think I look for girls every time I go out because I’m scared of being gay?” Charles asks, as the first scene rolls by.
Max stops the movie and turns around to look at him. His eyes are glassy and there’s a sad expression on his face.
“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with being gay…” Max tries to articulate and Charles nods, half convinced.
They get back to the movie but Max can’t stop thinking about the words Charles spoke a few minutes before. Why did Charles decide to tell him this? Max stops the movie again and looks at Charles straight in the eyes.
They’re so green and so sad. Full of tears too. Max can read them all too well. A forest to his sky.
“You don’t have to tell me anything now, or ever, okay? But whatever it is, I’ll listen and won’t judge, okay? Like a debrief…” Max tries and Charles nods, blinking away a few tears.
“You can sleep here if you want…” Max mumbles, taking a tissue from his nightstand and giving it to Charles. He blows his nose and nods.
Max puts back on the movie and Charles lifts the duvet, snuggling next to Max, but under the covers. Max would like to say that he doesn’t know what to do, but his brand is honesty, so he wraps an arm around Charles and soothes him, trying to keep his feelings at bay.
“It’s okay…” Max mumbles, more to himself than to Charles.
He hopes he will find Charles next to him in the morning.
#lestappen#lestappen fic#lestappen fanfic#ao3#charles leclerc fanfic#max verstappen fanfic#lestappen angst#f1 rpf#lovely anon
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
also here is your excuse to do beast sskk as well :)
Thank you so much for asking them I owe you my life,,, this is going to be long. Doing Akutagawa here and Atsushi in the next post.
Favorite thing about them:
Akutagawa's real, authentic struggle to be good. His struggle to conciliate the inhuman Beast in him with his genuine striving to be good. I think it's a very beautiful way to depict a real and universal struggle of every man. He's just very sympathetic in his trying so hard to be a good person and how more often than not fail at it, which is very endearing to read about. He's just a very human character in his very beastliness. I think trying to be good despite his very own nature and even fight against his nature to be a better person is endlessly admirable. Akutagawa's character in Beast is an expanded, more elaborated on and mature, and overall better version of the same struggle Akutagawa faces in canon, and I love it.
Least favorite thing about them:
Sometimes I do have the impression that when writing him the author gets lost in the very loop of not good → tries to be good → is still not good → is inherently unable to do good. I wish I could elaborate on this better, but I need to reread Beast to do that. Just... Sometimes it feels like the author themselves doesn't know which road to pick between “man is inherently unable to do good” and “you aren't evil, you just haven't had you chance to be good yet”. There's a primary example for this: the act of brutally slaughtering the men who killed his friends Akutagawa commits at the start of the story is repeatedly framed all over the novel as something deplorable, mindless, and simply unmistakenly evil; and I deeply disagree. I can't agree with the story when it tries to frame Akutagawa as evil because he killed the men who killed his friends, because I see how that action wasn't moved by evil for evil's sake, but rather by the deep, inextricable love he felt for his family. And someone argues: but the reader is supposed to pick up on this inconsistency! A critical reader is supposed to see how since the start, Akutagawa has never been an entity of pure evil. But... I don't think it's the case, or at the very least that it was something intentional onf the author's side. For a very simple reason: Dazai and Gin say otherwise. And those two are the characters we're supposed to trust. Dazai, because he literally can't speak false in bsd (sorry. But c'mon. You know how the author writes him. Everything Dazai says is true and just and irrefutable). Gin, because in the story she takes on this very role of showing how much pain and suffering Akutagawa's inextricable evil causes. When Gin says :
If you really wanted vengeance—if you really wanted to avenge your friends—you would’ve come up with a plan before attacking. You would’ve stood by until your wounds healed, researched your enemy, and patiently waited for your chance. But you didn’t do that. You left me behind when I was injured and rushed right into battle without so much as a plan. It was like you were enjoying the flames of revenge. [...] If I’m wrong, then prove it. Convince me. Prove to me that you had some sort of grand scheme that day. Prove to me that you didn’t just want to destroy the world you despised like some wild beast.
we're supposed to believe her. I wholly doubt that passage was put there for the reader to say “she's wrong” at all. But it's also true that when Kunikida later says “You’re not evil, [...] You just don’t know who you are yet”, he directly contradicts that. So you see, Beast as a story itself in my opinion struggles to conciliate its need to prove Akutagawa as intrinsically evil and its belief that everyone has its chance at good. Which... I don't really blame it for, it objectively engages with complex philosophical themes it's hard to delve into, especially when coming from a place of the nihilism the author more often than not has been bearer of in the bsd story.
(Didn't want to spend this many words on this but it's really a complex subject you can't properly explain by keeping it short. That said, I love Beast Akutagawa infinitely more than what I dislike of him lol.)
Favorite line:
Everything he's ever said 😭😭😭 His monologues are all very good, the struggle to become human so real and easy to relate to. “Until that day I become human, I will continue to run, howling loudly” may be my favourite.
brOTP:
Akutagawa's relationship with Kenji in Beast means so much to me......... They're one of my favourite duos in the whole franchise, I really like the two of them together. I like to think they will become work partners in the future (well, I know for sure anyone in their sane mind in the agency is going to keep Akutagawa and Tanizaki from becoming partners LMAO). Then, Oda and Akutagawa (Oda cares about Akutagawa so much and AAAHH), Akutagawa and Tanizaki's relationship is heartwarming in its own weird way, and in general really Akutagawa & the whole ada is just the best. THEY are the found family of bsd, the only of that kind.
(Side note, I love Ryuunosuke's relationship with Gin, and I love how Beast emphasizes on how much they love each other, but ough, I have so many issues with how Gin is written in Beast... Please please forgive me Akutagawas. I just think you deserve better writing.)
OTP:
DUH
DUH
DUH
DUH
(They're my favourite bsd ship ever okay. I like them a lot.)
nOTP:
I wouldn't say I have any notp for him, but I do quite struggle to picture him with anyone who isn't Beast Atsushi (´；ω；｀)
Random headcanon:
He helps out at Kenji's farm whenever it's harvest time. In general, I like to think he carries on the lessons of humanity he learnt during his ada quests arc. I like to think he also pays visits to Oda's children (his little siblings), plays with them and tutors them and so on. They're his chance of being a good older brother where in the past he failed.
Unpopular opinion:
He's the cooler version of canon Akutagawa LOL
Song i associate with them:
Usseewa by syudou, cover by hyozan ft. flower. A while ago, I happened to tell my sister that the song made me think of Beast Akutagawa, and she went “Really? But isn't he stupid?”, lmao. She was right, but the reason I tend to associate the song with him isn't the honor student and successful businessman parts, as much as the unrestrainable rage the song expresses, the frustration, the hatred towards everything in the world, the finding notions such as “rightness” and “stupidity” equally meaningless. The carelessness for hurting other people. The underlying feeling of loneliness. It's more about the vibes, really.
Favorite picture of them:
Favourite panel from the manga:
Favourite illustration by Hoshikawa:
Favourite illustration by Harukawa:
Send me a character?
#Thank you so much for asking this seriously talking about Beast is my favourite thing in the world 🥺🥺🥺#ryūnosuke akutagawa#bsd#bsd beast#mine#people asks me stuff
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
November F1c Prompts Day 21
Day 21 - Scent (Favourite)
Daniel, Scotty, and Jack are piled on the couch like some kind of Australian ex-pat support group when you venture out of your office with a yawn.
“Hello displaced Australians.”
Jack laughs and Scotty leans his head back on the couch with a lazy smile. “Hello platonic life partner.”
It makes you grin as you walk Closer to them. “What’s going on?”
“Daniel’s being bad at games.” Jack supplies
“Oi,” Daniel kicks him from the other side of the couch. “Fuck off.”
“Not his forte, to be fair.” You drop a kiss to the top of his head to take away some of the disgruntled huff. “Is there food?”
He stretches back to look up at you, hands resting gently on your arms. “Yeah I left some for you in the fridge, on the top shelf.”
“Thank you.”
You smell it when you walk closer to the kitchen, nose wrinkled until you see the candle on the countertop. “You lit the candle?”
“Jack didn’t believe there was a candle that smelled like a cart track so I had to.” Daniel reasons. “It’s nearly gone though.” He says wistfully, as if the thing hasn’t made it through two moves and more than a handful of years since Max gave it to him, burned so sparingly in an effort to make it last you’re shocked it has any fragrance left at all.
You make a noise of acknowledgement and lean over the kitchen island, picking at the sandwich they left you. You pull out your phone.
Y/N
Ciao – do you remember that candle you got Daniel when he left?
Or did you get someone to get it for you?
Max V
That is very rude. I buy Daniel’s gifts myself.
Y/N
Just nobody else’s right?
Max V
Fuck you.
What about it??
Y/N
It’s finally almost finished, I was going to get a new one. Can you send me the link when you get a chance?
Max responds in less than 5 minutes.
Max V
[link]
They still do them I think
Y/N
Thank you :) Owe you a gin and tonic!!
Max V
I will remember that (:
(It’s an Australian smiley it’s upside down)
Y/N
😂 very funny
“What are you giggling about?” Daniel calls, suspicious.
“Nothing.” You flash him a wide grin across the apartment. “Just reading.”
-
You’re working at the kitchen island when the doorbell rings, and before you can slide off the stool to head down to the front desk and collect the mail, Daniel puts his hands on your shoulders and presses you back into your seat. “I got it.”
“Molto bene.” You respond, just to make him laugh as he leaves through the front door. You get caught up in an email and only look up again when the door shuts. There’s a strange look on his face, a package open in his hands on top of a couple of letters. “Daniel?” You ask.
He looks up, and the strange look is soft. “Did you order this?”
“What?”
He pulls the candle out of the box and you grin. “It’s the same one as…”
“Oh yay, I was starting to wonder if it would get here before we left!” He doesn’t say anything else and you shut your laptop. “Is it…” You scratch behind your ear, self-conscious now. “I asked Max where he got it from and…”
He barely gets it on the counter before he wraps his arms around your head. “Thank you. It’s my favourite.” Daniel’s quiet for an uncharacteristically long time before he pulls away.
You kiss the strong line of his jaw. “I know.”
#f1 fanfic#daniel ricciardo fanfic#November f1c prompts#daniel ricciardo x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo imagine#f1blr#daniel ricciardo fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 driver x reader#f1 driver x you#formula 1 x reader
87 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi i saw you write for robert shwartzman and i think he is so under appreciated especially when it comes to fanfic!! could you please write something friends to lovers with him maybe with the whole “oh no there’s only one bed i guess we have to share” trope 🥺 i would owe you my life i love your writing
summary: robert hosts a party. it doesn’t continue as it was supposed to, but it’s alright anyway.
pairing: robert shwartzman x driver!reader
warning: alcohol
wordcount: 2,3 k
a/n: this is set back in the golden prema/fda days (i miss them so much)
after months i finally finished this??? it’s been an eternity, thanks uni, love u too </3
you could hear light music mixed with laughter coming out of the slightly opened main window of the house. you just arrived at robert’s place, where he decided to host what was supposed to be something between a small gathering and a party with members of the ferrari academy, who also happened to be his closest friends.
you, marcus and callum lived pretty close, so you had agreed long ago to always share one car whenever you planned to go to a party, so that at least two people could drink, while the other remained sober to drive them safely home, and tonight the chosen driver was marcus.
when you knocked on the door, you didn't have to wait long to be met with a smiley gianluca. he didn’t hesitate to pull you in a hug, soon after passing over to the boys, giving them their usual handshake.
“hey guys, how are you? welcome in!" the brazilian exclaimed eagerly when he greeted you. as you followed the orders, you entered the house, which, to your surprise, was adorned with fanciful lights, even on the sofa where mick, jehan, and robert sat.
“i didn’t expect christmas to arrive a month earlier this year!” you exclaimed walking towards the boys with the intention of hugging them. while the first two laughed at your joke standing up to greet you, the house's owner crossed his arms and wore a pout on his face, causing an even louder laugh from everybody.
"come on rob, i was kidding. you know i love christmas." you seriously replied engulfing him. and just when he finally gave in and placed his arms around your body as a sign to both forgive you and greet you, callum talked.
"of course he knows. that's exactly why they are there."
robert actually considered for three seconds to leave his spot and kick him, but it would have been suspicious, so he opted for staying where he was, thinking of something that could save him from a possible embarrassing moment.
"i also bought your favourite gin and marcus' tequila." he shrugged his shoulder dismissively. "i want my friends to enjoy their night, so there are things around you like."
although callum almost blurted out your name, as you were the thing around he liked, on the other hand his brain stopped his mouth in time, deciding that waiting for everybody to be tipsy before putting him through that carnage would be funnier.
suddenly the main lights turned down leaving a confused expression on everyone's face, until marcus, from the side of the room where the switches were, started talking.
"now that we are all here, can we start the party?"
"yes kid, we can"
-
some hours elapsed by and the majority of the boys were tiredly sitting on the sofa, while you and mick were drunkenly putting together some moves, which i'm not sure it can be called dancing, on the light jazz that was playing in the background. you didn't know the process that brought etta james to be played, considering not even half an hour prior all you could listen to was some edm music, but since the phone attached to the speakers was roberts's, you imagined it happened by his hand. and indeed it was him, after he heard the knocking on the wall from his neighbour when he walked in the kitchen to get a drink, realizing just then how late it was and they were being way too loud.
when the song ended, you collapsed on the armrest of the sofa where marcus was sitting. noticing his eyes were halfway closed from tiredness, you announced it was your time to leave.
"cal, let's go home maybe? marc is half asleep." you asked turning in his direction. he still hadn't answered, but you immediately noticed something in his look was off.
"marcus? are you sleepy or drunk?" callum examined his flatmate noticing his slouching on the couch and, for he doesn't understand what reason, the red ears, which was the common pattern he witnesses only when he was out drinking.
"mh, sleepy and drunk. allegedly sleepy because drunk." he replied cuddling to your side seeking a soft spot to rest his head, unsuccessfully since you stood up straight away.
"marcus! you were supposed to stay sober, it was your turn to drive us home!" you shouted at the boy, fully aware that telling him this now wouldn't change a thing. not surprised, callum let his head hanging down, reflecting on the possibility of driving them home, immediately dismissing it as he drank as well.
years of training reflexes to recognize when they are not on spot to drive, useful.
you stood there looking at your friend, pondering what was the best choice to bring you home safe and sound. since all of you had too much alcohol in your body, driving was not an option, and neither was walking because your house was too far away and marcus was clearly not in the condition to do so, nor ride a bicycle.
so basically you were screwed, except for the fact that you were at robert's house and, as the good party host he claims to be, he had the right solution for you.
"i think i have enough space for everybody to sleep here," he glanced around the living room thinking about how many people could fit on his couch. "three people can stay in the guest room, two on the sofa and two in my room."
"oh my- you are a godsend rob!" you excitedly jumped on him, after he saved you from a walk of kilometres holding your drunk friend.
you weren't the only one in the room having a realization though. in fact, while you were busy hugging robert, gianluca called shotgun for the guest room, fancying some due rest on a proper mattress, and mick and jehan reflexively run up the stairs, going for the room wishing the same as the younger driver. at the end of the day, they were already supposed to stay over, without expecting anybody to mess up their plan by getting drunk when not supposed to.
"it doesn't look like marc is gonna move anytime soon," callum said with half-closed eyelids looking at his full asleep friend, "and i don't think i have the energy to do any different, so i guess we'll take the couch."
the blond boy reached for the cupboard, taking out a blanket and kindly laying it out on his academy's teammates. the older of the two thanked him with a little smile and a yawn, while the new zealander was way to gone to be minimally conscious.
then robert nodded towards the staircase, to let you know his intention to go to his room, and you followed him
"did i seriously win the spot on the comfiest bed of the house without an effort? it must be my lucky day!" you ratiocinated walking up the stairs alongside rob, who was some steps behind you since he stopped to switch off the lights of the living room to let the boys sleep more comfortably.
"are you sure you don't mind sharing the bed? i can always stay with marcus and callum" he halted temporarily in case you didn't like the idea of sleeping together in a so small space.
"of course, rob. besides, it's your bed, if anything i would be the one on the couch." you insisted turning to him, beckoning him to stick to you.
once in his room, the atmosphere change pretty drastically for the russian. having his long time crush in his personal space was a new thing for him, which got him pretty flustered, not knowing how to act. not that you noticed it, while changing into your pajamas. if you only knew how that made robert freeze on the spot. notify him next time, please.
some giggles from the adjacent room distracted both of you and saved the blonde's brain from buffering over and over again.
"did we really think it was a smart idea to leave gianluca in the same room as jehan?" you questioned ironically, "they will keep us awake all night."
"definitely"
still laughing, you and your fluffy pyjamas got under the blanket on the bed on the opposite side of where a bedside table with some of rob's stuff laying around was set, inducing it was the part where he usually slept. you moved around a bit, trying to find some comfort in the unknown environment, meanwhile the blonde changed his clothes as well, getting in an old unused t shirt and some short, which looked a bit too light for your liking, but he was surely better used to cold temperatures than you were thanks to his childhood spent in russia. after taking the spare pillow on the chair, he walked to his side of the bed pushing the one already on the mattress in your direction to offer the most comfortable one between the two. lucky me callum is not here to tease me right now, rob reflected.
sleeply, you accepted it, not wanting to start the "you take it" “no, you take it" conversation in the middle of the night, watching the other finally getting under the duvet with a satisfied look on his face.
once both of you settle in the small bed, you relaxed finding some peace to sleep, but a fresh breeze hitting you feet cause that moment to be really brief. at first, you decided it wasn't particularly bothersome, so you let it pass, but when all the warm the blanket was radiating was disappearing because of it and it became distracting for your sleep, you decided to investigate the cause.
"rob, you're too tall." watching under the duvet, you noticed he was laying with his legs straight and his feet didn't fit in the bed, leaving a gap at the end of it where the cold air could come in.
the small bed was not only narrow, but also too short.
"i know, i'm sorry. in theory the mattress is a full size, but in actuality it is a small-european size." he apologized for moving slightly to fit better, but without really knowing how.
"isn't it easier if you just bend your legs?" you suggested seeing his discomfort. in response, the blonde did what you said but towards the wall, the opposite direction of what you had in mind, putting himself in another uncomfortable position as well. "i meant in this way, dumbass."
when you brutally put a hand on his knee to pull his legs on your side he was a little taken aback. he didn't want to intrude your space, and doing so your legs were all intertwined, and he couldn't stop thinking about whose legs his were crossing. it wasn't exactly like the time he slept with marcus during a grand prix because the radiator in his room was broken.
"am i-... do you, i mean..." he started stuttering, trying to form a proper sentence while you were looking at him, which was pretty distracting if you couldn't tell. "are my legs bothering you? i can move them if you-"
"it was a pretext to get you to do something about this." the boy was interrupted by your sentence, which wasn't entirely clear to him.
"about what?" he questioned back with a confused expression on his face. what he said made you laugh a bit, you honestly couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose or was actually obnoxious.
"we can avoid the elephant in the room any longer or you can just cuddle me like normal people that like each other usually do."
you dropped the bomb, hoping you didn't misunderstand all the signals, otherwise that would be really embarrassing, but considering all the glances, the sweet actions only aimed at you, callum's jokes and the general tension sometimes was there between you two for absolutely no reason, you assumed this was not the case.
the boy looked at you with a blank expression, processing the words. has he been so obvious, too obvious, about his feelings? or was it his friends' fault with all the remarks? but mainly:
"each other? so you-"
"yes rob, i like you."
those icy eyes were looking at you like you told him a f1 seat was his. he didn't know how to form the concept he wanted to pronounce, letting him gasping. his reaction made some insecurities crawl into you, interrupting the eye contact you were previously holding, which didn't go unnoticed by the boy, causing an immediate reaction from him.
"that's good," out of all the words existing in the english vocabulary, these were the ones that came out. seriously? so he tried to fix his mistake by adding a "i mean- it's good because i like you too."
a nervous laugh escaped your lips, followed by a push on his shoulder. that was really horribly phrased, lucky him you liked him.
"good to know. now, i've been awake for like... nineteen hours? so if you don't mind, i would postpone this conversation to next morning when both of us will have more faculties to properly talk about it. the worst part of admiting it is done, anyhow." you yawned stretching around. with your legs still intertwined, the boy started fidgeting before opening his mouth and unsurely give voice to his thoughts.
"can i still hug you?"
you felt an overload of tenderness hearing the request, accompanied by the cute expression on robert's face, typical of someone in the beginning stages of a new relationship, with a lot of adoration, but plenty of insecurities. your natural answer was to scoot over and lay your head on his shoulder, which in response received a weird entanglement of arms around your body and a bright smile.
"goodnight rob" you murmured to the boy on your side, who answered you in the same way before settling down, with silence and calmness filling the room, knowing that at least callum now will stop messing with you on your unrevealed crushes.
#robert shwartzman#robert shwartzman imagine#robert shwartzman x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f2 imagine#f2 x reader
80 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey Flower Gin, how are you? Thank you for the perspective the thread I mentioned. And you are so right about GC being the first to embrace Eun-ae in her time of distress.
Eun-ae insisting on going to find GC herself brought years to my eyes because what kind of love this😭😭😭 .
I actually wanted to say that I really do not care about Gu Wonmu's political views and such, I could care less. I could understand to an extent his jealousy and insecurities. What I care about is that GC expected him to come for her and he didn't. He broke her heart. I don't care I don't care about the era he was in, should I have expected, yes, probably, am I still upset? Yes! She waited for him. She insisted on waiting for him. She trusted him and he turned his back on her. She trusted him.
Hi Anon!
Break for episode 13 spoilers:
It was so awful the way Gu Won-mu left, but in retrospect the writing was on the wall the moment she was taken, wasn’t it? His boundary was simply further along than that of most other husbands (as the man at the market said to Gil-chae, no husband has ever come looking for a wife.) I don’t even think his insecurities played a part - only the simple, terrible truth of what it would mean for his own career and honour.
What a cold and incredibly cruel view of women - even if she had no value as his wife, she was a sister, a daughter and a friend. But even those ties can be eroded on mere suspicion. Mere suspicion is sufficient to ostracise a woman. How do you prove a negative, after all? And so the sins of others become a poison in a woman’s body, and so she becomes a limb to be cut off. My only hope is that he would have continued to care for Gil-chae’s family and support them.
You’re so right about the truly heartbreaking thing in Gu Won-mu’s refusal to bring Gil-chae home. She identified herself as his wife, she kept saying her husband would come, and in the depths of her and JongJong’s misery this consummate survivor refused to seek help from Lee Jang-hyeon, who would have been right at hand. She might not have loved Gu Won-mu the way she loved Lee Jang-hyeon, but you’re absolutely right that she trusted he would do right by her - a far greater responsibility than love alone - and he failed her in that, and what an ignominious, terrible failure of her faith in him. A pathetic man who partly owes his elevated status in life to Gil-chae (and Lee Jang-hyeon too!); a sad little man who hemmed and hawed and dithered over finding her as she suffered in captivity; an ugly little man who had to be pushed and shoved by her friends (and at least one supposed enemy Ryang Eum!) to do the right thing, all whilst Gil-chae scraped and starved and literally scarred herself so she could survive. It’s such a slap in the face.
I really loved that the heroes of this episode were resolutely not the presumably straight, able-bodied scholars and officers. The tales of moral rectitude and bravery are about these men, all of whom falter and dither about and prefer to protect themselves over an innocent woman. The old, infirm grandpa who buys Gil-chae time to escape and thanks her for saving his grandson; Gil-chae herself who stands on a cliff and cares enough to pull everyone she possibly can from the edge of it; the girls including JongJong who did not jump, who turned from the abyss; Ryang Eum, who loves Lee Jang-hyeon so much he’s on his way to Shenyang to help reunite him with the woman he loves; and finally Eun-ae and Bang Du-ne, leaving their men at the crack of dawn to do what the men didn’t and couldn’t accomplish: get their friend back from Shenyang despite all the dangers.
(I’m not invested in Lee Jang-hyeon and the Qing princess storyline very much. What do you think about them, Anon?)
As always it’s a pleasure to hear from you, Anon. Have a good weekend!
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
I am sad b/c of Colorado some happy Shy and Midge, please???
(I also am sad about this. May their memories be a blessing, and may the injured have speedy recoveries)
Midge wanders into Shy's place on his birthday, and looks around at all of the familiar faces. Stars of stage and screen and the music industry litter the place, and she's not sure where to put herself.
Sure, she's gotten some fame from the Gordon Ford show, but she's not half as famous as most of the people here.
She figures she'll head to the bar, when someone taps her arm gently, and when she turns, there's Marcus: Shy's personal bodyguard.
Midge smiles. "Hi, Marcus! Enjoying the party?"
"Sure, Midge," he chuckles. "Shy's in the solarium, he wanted me to catch you when you got here."
"Great! Let me get my drink."
"Oh, he's got the good gin already," Marcus grins. "Follow me?"
Midge laughs a little and nods, taking his offered arm (which feels about three times the size of her own), and letting him lead her back through the house to the solarium; a beautiful roomed covered in flowers with a domed roof overhead.
"There's my girl," Shy beams, reaching to give her a kiss.
"Happy birthday, Sweetie," Midge chirps back, kissing his cheek. "What are you doing hiding back here?"
"Hiding," he tells her. "Jerome isn't coming tonight, and Monica is in Europe for the next little while, which means no date, which means lots of people taking more of an interest than I'd like."
"What is Monica doing in Europe?" Midge asks curiously.
"The male population of Italy, I assume," Shy responds with a sly smirk.
"I have heard something about hot blooded Italian men," Midge jokes, taking a seat and a drink Marcus pours. "thanks, Marcus."
"Speaking of dates, where is yours?" Shy asks. "Aren't you usually shadowed by a tall stoop-shouldered Jewish man with a big mouth?"
Midge takes a long drink. "Mr. Bruce is having second thoughts about our relationship."
Shy stares at her silently.
She shrugs. "He's used to being on his own. He says it might be too much of an adjustment to handle having an entire horde of people around all the time. Me, my parents, the ex and his parents, my brother, Imogene, Susie..."
"So what you're saying is that he is being a scared little boy," Shy comments judgmentally. "That is the worst excuse for backing out of a relationship I have ever heard, and believe me, I have told some whoppers in my time."
"I can't make him do what he doesn't want to do," Midge says quietly.
"He knows this is the real deal, and he's losing his shit," Shy tells her. "Marcus, get me the phone."
"Shy-"
Before Midge can really protest, there's a phone in Shy's hands. "He home tonight?"
"I think so. He didn't have a gig, so unless he's fallen off the wagon..."
Shy nods. "Phone number, please."
She sighs heavily and recites it, watching Shy dial.
"Lenny! It's Shy! Yes, thank you. I noticed that Midge is here at my party, and you are not." He pauses and rolls his eyes. "That's a joke, right? You're a very funny man, Lenny."
Midge drains her glass and quietly asks Marcus for another, which he obliges.
"Look, I don't know what your specific damage is, other than one too many dope hits, but this is ridiculous," Shy tells him, making Midge nearly choke on her first sip of her refreshed drink.
"Here is what I know," Shy goes on, turning away from Midge and Marcus. "What you have with Midge is real. And that is very difficult to find. It's even harder to keep. if your main goal in life is to be a miserable dumb-ass, then be my guest and end what will probably be the most fulfilling relationship of your life. But if you actually enjoy being happy, I suggest you clean yourself up, put on a nice tie and get down to here to escort your girlfriend to my party."
With that, he hangs up, and Midge stares at him with wide, shocked eyes.
"You're welcome," he sing-songs.
"I owe you a much better birthday gift than I got you," she tells him.
"You can take me out to lunch at Tavern on the Green tomorrow," he beams as he sips his drink.
"Where is Jerome, by the way?" she asks, still a little bewildered.
Shy sighs softly. "His grandmother got sick, so he's playing the dutiful nursemaid tonight. His sister's been on Nana-watch all week and her daughter broke her arm earlier tonight, so Jerome had to swoop in and be the hero."
Midge ponders that, smiling slowly.
"Oh, no," Shy chuckles. "I know that look. That is the look of a crazy woman with an idea."
Midge smiles wider and turns to Marcus. "Do you think the guests here can entertain themselves without Shy for an hour or so?"
Marcus shrugs. "Probably. No one ever really notices anything at these big parties. One time Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward made it in the downstairs bathroom. No one noticed a thing."
Midge whirls around to Shy. "Paul and Joanne fucked in your bathroom?!"
"Oh, please, those two will fuck anywhere," Shy snorts.
Midge shakes out her head. "Okay. Let's go box up some food and then you can head to Jerome's."
"Why?" Shy asks.
"To surprise him."
"It's my birthday."
"And would you rather be here with all of these vapid assholes who fuck in your bathroom, or spending a quiet evening with your boyfriend and some good food?" Midge asks pointedly.
Shy blinks. "Touche."
"Let's move."
"What about Lenny?"
Midge shrugs. "Either he shows up or he doesn't. You get your coat, and Marcus will pack up some food to take along, and I'll entertain the masses and make sure no one gets wind that you left, and when you get back, you can have a little birthday toast with your million guests."
Shy shakes his head. "I'm only doing this to avoid talking to Frank Sinatra, you know. That man hates me."
"That's because you're more talented than he is," Midge smirks. "Leave."
*****
Jerome Robins is not a celebrity. He's not even mildly famous. Just an English teacher, trying to guide Harlem's youth in productive directions through literature and language.
So as not to feel too let down by not being able to attend his boyfriend's star-studded birthday party, he's been telling himself all night that there's no way he would fit in there.
But in reality, he wishes he were sitting with Shy, drinking champagne, eating fancy food and people watching, instead of watching Sophie Lennon's dumb little game show on television while his Nana snoozes in bedroom.
Jerome frowns when there's a knock on the door, and when he opens it, his eyes nearly fall out of his head.
Shy is standing there with a sheepish grin, holding a box of food and a bottle of very old-looking champagne.
"Uh..."
"That party was awful without you," Shy tells him. "Midge shoved me out the back door with finger food and a bottle of champagne old enough to have fought in the Civil War."
Jerome laughs softly and lets him in, closing the door before kissing him softly. "Happy birthday."
"Yes, it is a very happy birthday," Shy agrees, smiling. "How's your grandmother?"
"Asleep."
"Good. Then we can celebrate in peace. I have about an hour before I need to head back."
Jerome smiles and kisses him again. "Good enough for me."
*****
Midge does a great job entertaining the guests and making sure everyone is full up on wine. She and Marcus make a great team, and no one suspects that Shy has left the building.
With the exception of one person.
"He's not here, is he?"
Midge glances back at Lenny, who has indeed cleaned himself up and put on a nice tie. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Lenny grins a little. "If he were here, he'd never let you have this kind of control over his party."
Midge grins a little and turns toward him. "Jerome had to stay home and take care of a sick relative. So I...maybe have encouraged Shy to...sneak out the solarium."
He chuckles softly and leans against the wall, watching Midge as she sips her drink. "So. I'm a dumb-ass."
"Mmm. Yes."
Lenny nods. "I'm sorry. I really am, I just- I'm not-" he shakes his head. "I think it hit me. How much I care about you. How much I...want this. With you. And it scared the hell out of me."
She considers that for a moment, before holding out her free hand and taking his, squeezing it. "It's okay to be scared. But you don't have to be scared by yourself."
He sighs softly and tugs her close, his forehead resting on her shoulder. "I don't want this to end."
"Then it won't," Midge tells him softly, her hand letting go of his to stroke the hair at the back of his head. "You just need to let me in."
He nods, but doesn't move and she kisses his temple before setting her drink down. "Come dance with me. Shy will be back soon, and he'll want everyone's attention."
Lenny nods, and pulls her closer, kissing her softly before leading her to the dance floor.
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
Keep a Light on For Me, Blue Moon !!
GIRL YOU CHOSE BOTH HOULIHAWK FICS. I DIDN’T TAG THE OTHER JUST TO SEE IF YOU CHOSE IT SKSKSKSKSKSKSK our Houlihawk discourse is *chefs kiss* and definitely feeds my writing.
Keep a Light on for Me
Description: With the last batch of patients sent to Seoul, the 4077th M*A*S*H was officially off of active duty. It’s their last night there, and with his mind spinning from fear for what his future holds, Hawkeye seeks comfort from a friend.
“She’d started down his neck, soft kisses making him hot. He closed his eyes, his head felt like television static, black flecks of pain and white burning passion. He wanted this, he really did, but he needed something else.”
I actually wrote half of this planned one-shot in Blue Moon but the vibes were off compared to what I was going for. I might just push myself to get it done tonight.
Blue Moon
Description: One thing that he loved about being home was the music. Elvis especially. “What a kid!” He’d told Margaret. She’d smiled at him with a curious look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.
“Beej,
I owe you fifty bucks.
I’m taking that position at Boston General. Charles is, much to my surprise, taking it better than I thought he would. My guess is that he’s finally getting some after his bone-dry luck back in K in our fraternity days. I couldn’t imagine getting as drunk as we did back then now. Haven’t had a drop of gin in the states! Isn’t that crazy? I’ll go for a good ol’ Pabst now and then though. They sell that over in California? What do you drink now? Do you drink? I miss drinking with you.
Now Margaret on the other hand is a bit of a puzzle. She’s been perfectly nice: same spunk, same sternness but she’s…different? I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe she changed her hair. I’ll ask her after the weekend.
Give my best to Peg and Erin. Let me know Erin’s bedtime so I don’t miss my earful. If I reach you before I start at the hospital, I’ll ask you then.
Signing Off,
Hawk
P.S. When’s Peg’s birthday?”
I actually think I spoke to you about this one! It’s a slow burn, state-side Houlihawk that starts with Hawkeye and B.J. writing letters to each other. The plan is to go from this to daily Boston General life (basically Margaret retired from the military after the war and Charles got her the job and then Hawkeye shows up and chaos ensues haha) and I also want to write a ‘coming-out’ little bit to honor the late and great DOS. Then stuff really picks up when they decide to go to a 4077th reunion at SOMEBODY’S wedding and Hawkeye/Margaret decide to drive there because Margaret has never driven down the East coast. And more and more and more but I’m a slow writer haha. The two first letters are posted on my AO3 already!
Anyone who sees this, PLEASE bully me to write on my AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpthawkp/pseuds/cpthawkp or my inbox here on tumblr. Thanks!
#I’m unwell#m*a*s*h#mash#hawkeye pierce#alan alda#mash 4077#hawkeye#benjamin franklin pierce#margaret houlihan#houlihawk#loretta swit#mash fic
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Trick-or-treat!
Thanks nonnie! Not sure if this is a trick, or a treat, but have a little sliver of an AU Tom/Ginny horror fic that I started many moons ago and have yet to come back to. (@venom0usbarbie this was a draft of a Tarot Fest fic for you that I never finished XD Add it to my list of fics I owe you)
She admires him in the soft candlelight over dinner. He is sharp, always has been—even middle age hasn’t softened him. His eyes are dark and so is his hair. Coal black, without a hint of brown. Together they look like a campfire at midnight.
But he is soft for her, she thinks, appreciating the curve of his lip. He kisses her often and calls her beautiful, teases and jokes and always makes her come.
“What are you thinking about?”
She meets his eye and blushes—caught staring at her husband. “You.”
Tom lifts a brow. “What about me?”
“How lovely you are, of course.”
“Of course.”
Ginny smiles softly at him. “Wondering what you love about me, I guess.”
“Oh, Gin.” Tom comes around the table and gathers her in his arms. “Everything, you know that.”
“But what does everything even mean?”
“These pouty little lips, to start.” He kisses the frown off her face. “And this eyebrow, particularly.” A kiss to her right eyebrow. “And all of these lovely little freckles.” Kisses across her nose.
She squirms, laughing. “Tom, I’m serious. What really?”
“Gin. You make me laugh, and smile, and feel so loved. I love everything about you.”
Ginny sighs, melting into her husband’s chest. “I love you.”
“Love you too, you little nut,” Tom chuckles into her hair. “I’ll wash up, if you want to get ready for bed?”
He always washes up. Ginny can’t remember the last time she did dinner dishes.
The radio kicks on: eight o’clock, and Tom hums a familiar tune as he rolls up his shirtsleeves at the sink.
That’s life. That’s what all the people say; You’re riding high in April, shot down in May.
Ginny’s heart is full as she goes upstairs.
***
It’s dark. The dark is solid, too, sticky, swallowing her feet like mud as she trudges through the kitchen. At least, she thinks it’s the kitchen. It’s hard to tell when it’s covered in sludge. It’s dripping from the ceiling, split split split, and it’s warm where it lands on her bare arms.
She’s thirsty, and she wades through the muck to get to the sink. But when she turns the tap it just spews out more dark, rivers of it, until it’s running over the edge of the sink and crawling up her legs.
She needs to get outside, get away from the dark, but it’s too thick. Her legs are stuck, like molasses over the kitchen floor slowly sucking her down down down to her knees. It’s working its way up her arms now, pulling her further, and the sink is still running and the kitchen is just dark now. It’s not the kitchen anymore, it’s just blackness.
Silent, just drip drop drip split split split.
The dark works its way up her neck, and it fills her mouth as she tries to scream.
👻 I'm taking Trick or Treat asks! 👻
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
felt like saying some things to some folks from my canon!!! not everybody sadly SORRY TO EVERYBODY I DIDNT DO ill come back for yall some other time
joe - HI JOE one quastion erm. why didnt u let me hold ur hand when we were walking home from school that last time </3 meanie. and then ditching me to investigate with keiji when we were first investigating the facility.. srsly so meannn wahh /j ANYWAY ILY im not mad at u for nything besides dying (/lh) ILY JOE <3
kai - hi onii-san sorry for sending you to your death :( i wish we couldve been a real family instead of a girl and her "stalker" . sending u lots of love - "thankies a million", as dad always said !!!
shin - stares at you menacingly and genderqueerly. hey freak /aff
gin - hiii otouto do u want to play viddy games with me and joe :0 do u want to pet stray cats and eat strawberry jam straight outta the jar :0 gonna be honest im not a fan of jam in this life but im sure itll be fine ahaha...
keiji - YOU. hey mr.policeman im glad ur not dead or whatever. still a wee bit grumpy at u for making me the leader but its ok we're friends. hi friend.
nao - naaaoooo im so bad at painting in this life i bet if u were here u could help me out !!! do u want to frolick in a flower field together /p
reko - THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME BEAT THE MEMORY DANCE. FOR THAT ALONE I OWE YOU MY LIFE.
qtaro - hey qtaro i just want u to know that ur kind and sweet and a wonderful man and i miss u !!!!! ur awesome ok ??? ok
maple - im sorry for fighting u girl :( i hope u found somebody in this life who rlly truly loves u (as opposed to that scumbag midori)
safalin - ty for helping me, like, not die from my hallucinations lol ^_^ and for helping qtaro w his plan , etc. u wer pretty nice ^_^
-sara chidouin, #👕🥀
#fictionkinfessions#fictionkin#👕🥀#sarachidouinkin#yourturntodiekin#mod party cat#ableist language#death cw#stalking cw#prevabuse#child death cw#apology#food cw#q word used
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ryonna Tag team racing quotes part 2!
Missions
[Costume]
- "Could you get one for me too? If i wanna show off im a master of stealth business, i want to look like i am that, too!"
- "Yeah i'm sure it won't be too big when you put in on, sir."
- "AGAIN, BRAT-ICOOT?!"
- "This is getting us nowhere. Sir, perhaps would it be better if i went to fetched those things myself?"
- "Oh-kay..."
- "JUST GET ON WITH IT, OR YOU'RE GONNA SAY HI TO STARGAZER, TOO!"
- "Finally."
- "Yeah, keep it for yourself, you deserved it."
[Mission 1]
- "Yeah, could you? That'd really pay off and your sister would be impressed, if you ask me."
- "Good luck! ...and make it quick."
- "Master, calm down!! Maybe he just needed some clues to where that set is! ...Please hurry before he has another tantrum, he skipped his beauty sleep today." [nervous laugh]
- "Yeah, you don't want to be known as 'the worst big brother in the world' now, do you?"
- "We told you, brat-icoot, just BRING THAT GEAR!"
- "Congrats, you played yourself. Hope you enjoy your demise! See you on the race track! Heheheheh, sucker."
[Mission 2]
- "Dont you mean 'weapon of mass de-- OW!"
- "Okay, okay, you're right, sir!"
- "That'd be so helpful, indeed! ...No pun intended, by the way. Now get moving!"
- "Yeah, come back to us once you did get those crystals, bucko!"
- "Yeah. Things take time. But honestly, you got to hurry. so get a move on!"
- "These gamers are such a predictable bother nowadays, it's exhausting really."
- "See you there, brat-icoot. C'mon m'lord, let's show him!"
[When Cortex is interacting with Crash]
- "Sir, he doesn't play with train tra--... F-forget what I said."
- "Ooo-hohohoho! This is gonna be fun to watch, sorry brat-icoot.... not!"
- "Oh and please. be careful with that. I heard wood chippers are a little... Spiky." *deep giggles*
- "Not as good as when i hit the gym though. I got THAT superstrenght, baby! ...Though the actual egocentrist here is my boss, anyway."
- "Yes, now how about you get lo-- I mean... explore around and have a good time?"
- "I'm telling you sir, maybe you should get your mind off him with a nice, delicious churro-- OH HI BRAT-ICOOT, WHATS UP!"
- "Get lost twerp, we're busy!"
- "Yeah, it's best served cold too. Or is it served hot...? Whatever."
- "Ugh, you Brat-icoots are so annoying... Just let us have some peace, for my boss' sake!"
[When interacting with Crash]
"What do you want, Brat-icoot? Im trying to reflect on my life's mistakes here."
"You may ask... How did I become Cortex's racing partner...? Well uh.. It's a funny story. But i think it was after i asked you if i could join you since i didn't have a car and Von Clutch says I 'Can't drive vell'. The nerve!"
"God, i hate my life-- Oh, Crash! Didn't see you there! Now get lost before I PUNT YOU!"
"I wish Dingodile was in this game... Ooh! Maybe he's in the crowd?? I bet he loves the way i roll..." [sighs dreamily] "Huh? ...AGHH!! FORGET WHAT I SAID, BRAT-ICOOT!"
"Yes sir, i got it, foot massage at half-past thirty right after dinner, and bedtime storytime at 9 o'clock sharp, noted. Later." [Hungs up the phone and then Notices crash infront of her] "Uhh... You heard nothing. I was just having a chitchat on the phone."
"Crash, I know i'm not supposed to say this. But thank god my boss isn't here so... Keep this between us for a minute before he finds out..." [Inhale] "He sucks his thumb in his sleep and apparently when stressed he uses my tail as a security blankie while HE STILL HAS HIS OWN IN HIS POCKET! Even though sometimes it's in the wash... There, just keep this between us. And his snoring, UGH! Okay... I said too much. Go on with your little tralala trip now."
"Don't mind me, i'm just getting churros for me, Nina, N. Gin and the boss. You know just because i'm a villain, that doesn't mean i dont share my food with my coworker, godchild and partner in crime."
"Oh Crash, I need your help. Boss left his stuffed bear in those gears. Mind getting it for me before he goes on a tantrum during bedtime?"
"Go away before i punch you through your skull, brat-icoot. I'm really busy here."
#crash bandicoot oc#crash bandicoot#crash tag team racing#ryonna#quotes#they're so funny lmao.#ill drop some lore after all of the quotes are shared. NOW. pool time :D#laters!
0 notes
Text
Tommy knows how valuable debts are. His mother told him all about it, going over the steps that- if he were to incur a debt- he would know what to do.
She teaches him the dangers of having the wrong people owe him a debt. They don’t waste time to fulfill the debt, and won’t hesitate to use drastic measures.
Don’t accumulate debts. Word tends to go around eventually, and if you’ve got people owing you debts, you’ve got connections. Dangerous people go looking for those kinds of people.
“If you find yourself owing someone a debt Tommy” she told him one night, “then get real close and comfortable with them, because you don’t want to get caught off guard when they use it. If you’re lucky, they’ll just use the debt to make you leave them alone.”
He always asked her why she told him these things. She would smile and tell him about how he’ll understand one day. He never connected the dots, that the nights of gentle warnings are the same days that he protected someone on the playground and got sent to the principals office. Or pushed over a bully. Or went against the teachers wishes to comfort the boy that got sent out of the classroom for crying. He had a tendency to want to help, and his mother knew this.
His mother was not married. She had once been, he recalls, with a man of smug smiles. She told Tommy after they escaped, that the man had saved her life and he needed a wife to escape his personal problems. He almost killed her the night they left.
Tommy learns to hate debts.
She dies on his birthday. Not from a debt, no, from a careless bullet that a hero sent into a crowd while hyped up on adrenaline. He writes her advice on pages soaked in tears, and vows to honor it.
The first time he helps someone he’s terrified. They’re bleeding out, and Tommy needs to help them, but his mothers teachings ring in his ears.
The second time he’s running off of adrenaline and spite. He doesn’t think twice about patching up the vigilante on his couch, and when he finally remembers it’s far too late. All he can do is cross his fingers and hope.
2 years later and the anxiety in his throat couldn’t be more suffocating. Deaths Angel is sitting on Tommy’s couch with a fond smile and a stitched-up bullet wound. Tommy knows, he knows that Angel is going to mention the debt, but he hasn’t yet and Tommy needs to get rid of it fast.
More story under the cut, it got too long.
Tommy stands abruptly, briefly noting the startled look in Angel’s eyes before rushing off to the kitchen. He speeds through the process of making hot chocolate, throwing bread in the toaster and whipping some heavy cream into sweet stiff peaks.
He renters the living room, shoving some hot chocolate into Angels hands along with two pieces of buttery toast. Because Tommy needs a conversation starter, and he sure as hell needs some comfort food. Two in one really.
It clearly works, because Angel speaks up.
“You said your name was Tommy?” He nods, hiding his shaking hands with a swift bite of toast. “That’s a lovely name mate…” Angel trails off, looking lost. Like he has a destination, but no road to follow.
Tommy clears his throat, eyes darting to the side. “Yep- uhh, sorry, uhm, thank you. I- yeah, okay.” Shit shit shit shit “so, you’re in my debt?” fuck fuck fuck fuck “I mean- no, I don’t- that’s a bad thing,” Tommy trips over his words, “I don’t want you to be in debt to me?”
Angel considers this, eyes darting over Tommy’s insecure posture like a predator on the hunt. His soft smile doesn’t waver.
“Okay, I can understand that.” His eyes glint, “but I am in your debt now. Any idea how to clean that up?”
“Well I was thinkin-” Tommy takes a huge bite of toast. He ‘tries’ to say “that you could give me a gun and replace the medical shit I used on you” but it comes out “sat oo cud gib me uh gin n rplase ze medcal shbit bi oozed om oo”
Angel blinks. The fond smile looks a little more real as he openly laughs at Tommy’s blatant avoidance. He grins, “You little shit-” something passes over Angels eyes, too quick to put a name to. It disappears as fast as it came. “I need to understand you if you don’t want this debt.”
Tommy mutters something under his breathe. Angel raises an eyebrow and Tommy loudly sips on his hot chocolate. He can feel the whipped cream stick to his lip when he brings the mug back down. He doesn’t wipe it off and Angels soft smile becomes ever so slightly strained. The soft exasperation looks familiar(his mom would do that-). Tommy grins.
“I’m just too in-comp-re-hensible for you Angel. But you’re right,” he sighs dramatically, “I do need this debt off me. Sooooooo…” his burst of confidence shrinks again. Normally asking for shit is easy but- this is Deaths Angel- this isn’t no normal debt! Mans has wings! This is serious business!
“Do you want time to think about it-”
“NO!” Tommy cuts him off in a panic. Never keep debts from dangerous people. Ever.
Angels gaze turns curious. It shifts into something placating almost immediately, but Tommy saw. “Okay, I’ll just wait here for you to decide then. You did save my life.” The end of his sentence holds a different air to it. Dangerous.
Tommy chooses to ignore the faint warning in his voice and flippantly waves him off, playing it up for nothing. “Yeah yeah, I just don’t want to make a bad decision. Gotta be smart about it y’know?” It was very much not nothing.
“Alright, then tell me a bit about yourself. If I’m going to be awhile I’d love to get to know you,” there’s something else in that sentence, turning his stomach into a knot.
“Yeah yeah, I just need to…” No distractions come to mind. Shit. “Think about myself. Y’know? I’ve got so many amazing qualities about myself, s’quite hard to keep up with it.”
“That’s alright mate, I can ask a few questions to get you started.” Fuuucckkkk. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Red.” Tommy replies instantaneously. He internally winces at his lack of hesitation. He’s just chatting it up with a villain, casually.
“Red? Like the shade of your jacket?” Tommy glances down at the bright red cuffs, and silently curses himself for wearing his favorite jacket. Especially one that’s so recognizable, with the patterns Tommy has sewn into it.
“Yeah, this exact shade. I made it myself. ‘S why I’m so good with a needle and flesh, it’s practically the same thing.” It is absolutely not the same thing.
“You made it? It’s very nice, looks professional even,”
Tommy takes the warm feeling the compliment gives him and shoves it into the deepest and darkest chamber in his heart. “Thanks, I worked for weeks to make it, leather can be such a bitch to work with. Plus the inside layers really didn’t want to cooperate with me near the end.”
“How dare they,” Angel laughs, “they should be nicer.”
“That’s what I was saying!” Tommy throws his hands in the air, “I told boob boy that he should let me use his giant sword to cut the leather- but noooo, I can’t do that apparently. It would be ‘too dangerous’ and ‘a hazard to anyone nearby,’ which I call bullshit on!”
Angel laughs, sipping on hot chocolate. His eyes are filled with something unfamiliar. Not bad, just… different. It stirs up that warmth in his chest, colorful and bright. Tommy can’t stamp it down this time.
“You really nicknamed your friend ‘boob boy’?” Angel asks with a faint wheeze.
“Angel if you knew his name you would do the same!”
“Suurreeee” he drawls, and Tommy feels compelled to do something impulsive. Like, throw his last piece of crust at Deaths Angel or something. Which Tommy would never do. It’s dangerous, stupid, idiotic, childish, literally the worst possible idea he could have-
He throws the toast at him.
#tommyinnit centric#Philza#sbi fic idea#sleepy bois inc#sleepy boys inc#superhero au#villain sbi#supervillain au#angel duo#angelduo#winged philza#mini fic
173 notes
·
View notes
Text
just one (viii)
summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.
notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x
warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.
genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au
wordcount: 8k
tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad
part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x
x
4 years ago
x
jimin hated yugyeom.
well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.
"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.
and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"
jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"
"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."
"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."
there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."
"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."
you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."
"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"
you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"
jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."
x
x
x
[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it
[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying
[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook
[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up
[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls
[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear
[you 11:46pm] i hate u
[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????
[you 11:54pm] REGULAR
jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.
"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"
"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."
"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"
jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"
"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"
"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."
"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."
jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"
yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."
"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."
he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.
"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.
"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.
"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"
jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"
"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."
"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."
"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."
jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.
the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.
by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.
and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?
did he?
jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.
x
x
x
"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"
you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold.
you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."
"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"
"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"
seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."
you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"
"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."
you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."
x
x
x
you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.
and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"
your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."
he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."
you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"
"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."
you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"
his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."
you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"
you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-
"...jungkook."
yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"
"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."
he nods politely. "hyung?"
even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."
"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.
you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?
"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.
you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"
"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."
his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"
"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"
"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"
jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."
you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."
"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."
"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.
"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"
"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."
"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"
"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"
"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."
"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"
dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"
"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."
"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"
he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.
"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."
cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.
jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."
"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."
they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.
x
x
x
to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.
jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.
"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"
"not hungry," you grumble against him.
"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"
"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.
jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."
"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"
"oh, i meant you being stupid."
you scoff. "cheers."
"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."
you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."
"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"
"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."
"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"
"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.
"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"
"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"
he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."
"jimin."
he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."
your blood runs cold. "what?"
jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"
"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"
he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."
"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."
"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"
"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"
his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."
suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."
"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.
"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."
suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"
"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."
and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-
you close your eyes. "i can't."
"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."
you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."
he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"
"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."
there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."
"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.
x
x
x
you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.
it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.
"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces.
"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"
"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.
taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."
"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."
"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."
you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"
"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."
"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."
"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."
you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"
taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."
you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"
"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."
you try not to scream at him. "how long?"
"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."
"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"
he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."
you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"
"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."
there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.
and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.
taehyung did.
when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-
"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."
"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"
you take his face in your hands and kiss him.
taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.
it's better than he dreamed.
"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook au#bts x reader#bts au#jungkook scenario#bts scenario#jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin au#bts fic#jungkook fic#jimin fic#jungkook college au#jimin college au#bts college au#myfic
618 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ch. 11 - Fightin’ Words - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)
[A/N] to clarify before I begin, I do NOT hate Faye. There will be a following chapter to explain how we got from point A to point B, since now that I see it, this chapter seems like a stretch. I apologize if the writing is a little shitty, I got too excited when writing it, and I was basically vomiting words onto my screen. Enjoy!
Previous chapter: Ch.10
⛔️ WARNING: this chapter contains implied sexual content, drinking, and strong language
-
There is a clear difference in kissing. One was for lust, meant to excite and give pleasure to the receiving, as a plus on to tie in all the ingridients for good sex. The other was for love, showing affection and those deep emotional feelings that both parties were in need of.
The lines were blurring.
Wanting this to be a strictly physical relationship, other elements started to incorporate their way into your escapades. And now Spike knows almost everything about you. Eating habits, what makes you laugh, and the type of people you hate. Talking for hours on end, both of life and it’s ridiculous nature, there was no off time between you both. It felt good.
The quiet moment after you left his room for your own, a faltering feeling of sadness and loneliness enters Spike. The urge to grab you and bring you back to his bed for the night was strong. He tried to get you to stay (always subtly), but to no avail. Well aware of your need for space, he always respected your decision.
The crank that was once rusty, was in Spike’s head as his mind ran endlessly of if you liked him or not. It was a thought, a discussion he wanted to put off for so long. The consequences of his doubt were going to hurt, especially when it was going to be that time to go. The reassurance that this was only a fling, a friends with benefits deal, was on its way to be tossed out of the trash chute into space.
“Trust me, Spiegel, I’ve had plenty of time as a child to know what I’m talking about.” You said as Spike passed you his cigarette.
“About what?” He asked, completely clueless.
“Rocks. Crystals, geodes. Have you not been listening?” You scolded, scoffing as Spike shook his head.
“The library in the city gave the orphanage books they didn't want anymore. My favorite book was the one about rocks on Mars, of course it was simplified for my small brain…”
Head in his hand, Spike listened as you rambled mindlessly of all the different rock formations on Mars. As much as he wanted to learn, he couldn’t help but be distracted by his acknowledgment of your presence. More specifically, the air you brought in the room. Spike began to think of it as his favorite perfume, sweet and sultry, with a hint of spice. It made him feel safe.
You were so attractive when you were educating him. He hated to hear it from Jet or anyone else, but you made it interesting.
“You’re pretty hot.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah thanks. Anyways, like I was saying…”You replied, flattered by his sudden proclamation.
“I’m serious. You’re talking all smart to me, and I can’t help but tell you that.” Spike smirked. “I think I learned more from you than in high school.”
You laughed softly. “I tell you because I know you’re dumber than a bag of hammers.”
“Is that so?” Spike raised his eyebrows. Why was your teasing making him feel even better? “You’re going to regret saying that.”
“I only have one, and not that.” You smiled slyly, the glint in Spike’s eye becoming more noticeable.
“I’m about to make it two.”
“I would love to see you try.”
You put your hands up to defend yourself, Spike’s smooth moves rendering you helpless. In a second, he had your arms pinned down by your sides, a deep throated chuckle emitting from him as he watched you struggle. There was no danger but that of falling to his charm and whim.
“I don’t regret this.” You panted.
“Sounds like the best decision I’ve made.” Spike mumbled, gaze traveling all over your face. He brushes the stray hairs from your face, fingers tracing your hairline and ears. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your neck, threatening to brush his lips on yours.
“Can I ask you something?” Spike broke the silence. You nodded eagerly.
“I-“ He began, cut off by the loud knocking on the door.
“Spike? Spike? Are you there?” Jet called out.
There is no answer, except you panicking over whether Jet sees you naked or sprawled out on Spike’s bed. The only sound that could’ve been heard was the thuds of you scrambling around the room, looking for your bra and panties. Spike watches in amusement, not caring at all at the dilemma you both were in.
“Yeah?” Spike called out, the clink of his lighter going off.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to come up to the bridge for a drink, got a few good bottles of gin from our last bounty.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Good.” Jet finished. Footsteps drew further away down the hallway and supposdely onto the stairs. You sighed in relief, getting dressed at a leisurely pace. Safe, once again.
“Y/n, you can come too if you would like.” The loud booming laughter of Jet filled the hallway, masking your dread.
This evening was going to be delightful.
-
“Where's the gin?” You said in confidence, like you weren’t just caught in Spike’s room. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the slight limp in your step either.
“I have it, but I knew it would be a good bait to get some help up here.” He replied.
“Then I want at least half the bottle as a down payment. And an apology.” You scowled, taking a peek on the holo computer, skimming over the briefing for the next bounty.
Jet chuckled. “Now young lady, I have something very important to ask you.”
“Huh, you and Spike. I’m not too scared of yours.” You glanced at him, sitting in his seat.
Jet rested himself against the table, nodding. “I was going to say that us boys and Ed really enjoy you here. These last few months have been the best one this ship has seen in a while, and you are welcome to stay however long you want, kid.”
You knew you were doing well, but now you caught the bag. Jackpot. “You’re just saying that because I feed you all.”
“That's part of it too.” Jet grinned. “But I’m serious, (y/n). I think all of us could vote in favor of a new crew member. What do you say?”
Thinking, you remembered your freedom, sought as a child. That’s all you ever wanted, was to be out and allowed to do whatever you could. But deep down, the thing you really needed was a home. A family.
You could find that here on the Bebop. Even if you got a rocky start, it was smooth sailing for now. You felt wanted. That’s what you needed.
“Doesn’t sound too bad. I’m down.” You beamed.
“Glad you agreed, or else it would’ve been real awkward if you said no.” Jet replied, giving you a soft pat on your back.
“Mmm, would you kick me out if I declined this most generous offer?” You teased.
“Kid, you have my respect, I would let you pack first then throw you out.”
You cracked up, the deal was done. As you sat in your new home, you couldn't help but feel eternally grateful. “I really owe you one, Jet. You really got me out of a tight spot.”
Jet nodded as he searched for something on the control board.
“Was..was that how Spike came around? Picked him up like a stray?” You asked, surprised at your brazen question.
Jet stops messing with the controls, paused as he tries to peace his words together. “To be honest, I can’t even remember when or how Spike joined me here. He just popped up one day, and I haven’t been able to shake him off.” Jet gave a small titter. “Ah, (y/n). The man’s been through it tough.”
“Can I ask?” You said meekly.
“All that time spent together, and he hasn’t told you?” Jet chaffed, a smirk starting to grow.
Shit. “We haven’t spent much time talking today.” Fuck it, no use in denying it now.
“That’s what I thought.” He snickered. “Well, let me put it this way. A heartbroken man is a lonely one. He roams the galaxy in search of finding a way to fill the void left in him, either desperate to find something new. Or leave the void empty, allowing himself to wither away peacefully.”
“Hmm.” You replied shortly. A lot wasn't said, but it made sense.
“I’m only saying this once, (Y/n). He’s changing, and for the better. I haven’t seen him smile so much sober. I have to thank you for that.”
You made a change, as small as it was. You hear footsteps approaching the bridge, the sliding door opening to reveal Spike. As he quietly passes you by, he shoots you a small wink, making you blush. Spike sits down with a sigh, his legs propped up on the control panel.
“Easy, I’m still working there.” Jet warns as he hands Spike a drink.
“Then how come you're not sitting here?” He smirks, side-eyeing you to watch him kick up dirt.
You smile back, letting their conversation fade away slowly. This moment, you had to screenshot it. It doesn’t look like a normal family, but it wasn't dysfunctional. You had a crazy red haired computer genius as a sibling, along with a dog that you think could do math better than you. It topped nicely with a protective mentor and teacher with one robotic arm, and a man who you didn't think you could even get near without getting your arm bitten off.
Someone was missing. She hasn’t been seen all day, but that’s typical. As an official member of the Bebop, there was no back burner now. You could turn off your predatory instinct on your prey. The hunt on Faye was over. You didn't have to be her best friend, just tolerate her attitude enough when she decides to stay on the ship for longer than a day. You really didn't want to fight her, but sometimes she made it so difficult. Besides, you were too tired anyways.
The little get together was carrying on joyfully, now joined by Ed and Ein. Ed wandered aimlessly in all directions on the bridge, babbling on about all the buttons and flashing lights. You sat next to Spike in your own chair, feeling the small soft padded pushes of Ein on your legs.
“What is it boy?” You asked sweetly, reaching down to rub the top of his ears. He jumps on his hind legs, trying his best to climb up onto your lap. You cooed at him, picking him up and placing him snuggly on your thighs. You swore you could’ve seen him smile as your pet his fluffy face, massaging his soft head.
Spike leaned over, whispering. “Do you think I can get a massage too?”
Before you could respond, Ein gave a small huff, one eye opening to watch out for his competition. “I’m sorry, but the baby said no.”
Jet laughed as Spike smiled. You looked down to see that Spike’s glass was still full, while Jets was drained of all gin. You were working on yours at a slower pace. “You don’t feel like drinking tonight?”
“Hmm?” Spike looked down at his drink, sloshing it against its glass walls. “ Oh, I’ll get to it.” He said before reaching out and touching your back gently, his fingers tracing circles on your spine.
What a win-win situation, Ein gets to be loved on and you get to be petted, you thought. Goosebumps rose on your arms as Spike continued. The sky turned to night, all the stars in the galaxy could be seen from the bridge’s giant front window. Ed was curled up in a ball in front of it, tuckering herself out. Ein provided some warmth to Ed, loafing on Ed’s stomach. Their snores mixed in together, obnoxiously loud, but incredibly cute.
Spike never got to his drink, so he offered it to you instead. Two was all you needed to finish off the night. You took over Ein’s spot on Spike’s lap, your arms wrapped around his neck as you conversated with the boys. His hands rubbed the side part of your stomach before interlocking, his heated palms providing comfort. You wouldn’t mind falling asleep here.
The flash of Faye’s Redtail blinded you as she clumsily parked out on the flight deck. You didn't care as long as she didnt destroy the hangar, then you all would be in huge trouble.
“She’s home early.” Jet stated, watching as she stumbled out of the ship.
“It’s not even midnight yet. Think she missed us?” Spike called out sarcastically.
“Doubt it.”
This was the last of peaceful silence for the night, you thought. You were hoping not to jinx it.
BAM!
Everybody around you whipped their heads to the source of the sound, except yours, because you knew exactly who it was and what was going to happen. Ein used Ed’s stomach as a launching pad, frightened at the loud noise. What could you say, you have a knack for sensing a challenge. The only thing was, you were not in a mood to seek it. It was brought to you, sucking all good energy out of the room and switching it to a fireball of jealousy.
In walked a staggering Faye, pleased with her grand entrance. She tipped to one side, before switching to the other slightly. Just one look was all it took before you gulped the rest of your drink down, flipping the glass on its head. You could see out of the corner of your eye Spike’s focus was on you. His brows furrowed, head tilting as if to ask what were you doing. Your reply was a swift head rub, his hair swooshing.
“Evening, Faye.” Jet chimed, pushing the bottle of gin closer to his side behind him on his control board. There was no way she was getting any more tonight.
Your gaze changed to Jet, who you thought could also sense the new air in the bridge. He sat at the edge of his seat, arm resting on his knee. What was he waiting for?
A small hiccup bounced off the metal walls, prompting Faye to trip and catch herself on the main control board in the middle of the room. Her eyes closed, she began to shake her head side to side, a small manic giggle escaping her mouth.
“You just-just can’t keep your fucking hands off of him, can’t you?”
You felt a shiver of shock rest on your shoulders as you turned your head to face Faye. Before you could speak, Spike opened his mouth to defend you.
“The hell is wrong with you?” Spike retorted, his hands now pressed firmly on your waist.
“Everything was just fine without her, you-“ Faye snarled as she pointed to Jet, “just had to have a heart.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Jet replied cautiously.
Faye circled around the control table, using it as support or else she tumbled over. A mumbled slur of insults, consisting of calling you a slut and Spike an idiot. She was drunk, you thought. Let it run off like water. She will be fine once she’s in her bed, snoring her way into a killer hangover. You couldn’t shake that feeling that you needed to start gearing up. You wiggled out of Spike’s hold, planting your feet firmly down as you lean on the control table.
“I..I honestly don’t get it.” Faye said aloud.
“Get what, Faye?” You piped up, the slightest shake in your voice.
Oh! So it can talk!” She cackled out loud. “Let me tell you what, since you asked!”
“Please, I would love to know.”
Her pointer finger shoved right in your face, furiously wanting to make contact. “I-I find it hard to believe that you managed to get him to fuck you.”
“Jesus, Faye, in front of the kids?”
“Fuck that! She’s going to hear what I have to say, whether the slut likes it or not.”
As angry as you should’ve been, coolness was all you displayed. The voice in the back of your head reminded you of unforgettable advice you knew all too well. Alcohol could be a very good truth serum.
“What a f-fucking slut … you know how I think y-you managed to stay on this tin can of a ship?” She muttered. “You have to be f-fucking the captain.”
“That’s enough! Leave until you sober up.” Jet stood up, standing in the space between you and Faye. “Not having any of that on my ship.”
You looked at Spike, face frozen in a silent menacing fury. Leaning back on the console, you kept glancing to see Faye moving further and further away towards the door. That was it, the show's over. But someone had some kind parting words.
“Hey, how about this! I bet Spike has to cover your face while fucking your ugly ass, I would too, you stupid-“
Your knuckles had never stung so bad, but it felt so good to watch Faye’s head swing back. A flurry of raged-filled punches landed on either side of her face, so fast it didnt give her enough time to react. Waking up, Faye gave a heavy footed kick to your side, prompting you to scream out in pain.
Each swing of her high leg swings missed as you ducked, giving you a chance for an uppercut into her stomach. You could hear the sound of the wind knocking out of her with each punch. Faye’s hand pulled your hair back roughly, fists meeting across your face, swiping your nose. Intense pressure built up, the threat of blood leaking out of your nose becoming evident. She wanted to play dirty?
We can play dirty.
You used everything you had in you. Scratching, biting, kicking. You were not going to lose. You did not give two shits if she was vulnerable, this bitch was going down. It felt like forever until you felt the strong arms of Spike yanking you away from the fighting ground.
“Hey, hey, hey!” You heard Jet roar, becoming a flesh and metal cage around Faye’s upper arms, taking a small beating as she tried to claw her way back to you. Ed was yelping and screaming at the top of her lungs, while Ein barked and yowled at the commotion.
“Stop, (y/n), its me you’re hitting, damn it!” Spike yelped as you gave the last swings, realizing that the fight was just about over. You panted, the painful injection of adrenaline overcame your body. You watched on in pity as Jet tried to get Faye to calm down. As you trudged back to your seat, with the help of Spike, the last word was finally given out of the door.
“Get comfy bitch, I’m going nowhere!” You screamed.
“And I know who burned your ship, but there’s no way I’m telling you, you dumb cunt!”
Other insults flew in your direction, but were ignored. You stood in disbelief as you let the major bombshell play over and over. Feeling the soft tug of Spike pulling you back gently down to your seat, letting you wallow for a second. He knelt in front of you, examining your growing black eye and red welts on your face. “Damn, that's going to leave a mark.”
You looked away from him, tears welling in your eyes.
“Oh (y/n), I didn't mean it like that, it doesn’t look that bad.” Spike apologized as you sniffled.
“It’s not that. I-its that..'' sobs so quietly, but causes the greatest quivering, “she knows who did this to me, and won't even fess up because she hates me. What kind of shit is that?”
Tears fell freely onto your lap, pain induced by your loss fueling more hurt. It was so cold by yourself, a shell encasing you in. Through the mists of your tears, the shell was just Spike’s chest moving closer in. The heat of his body provided consolation without words, the tightness and slight rocking bringing you down to a clearer, more relaxed consciousness.
“I’ll catch them for you.” Spike mumbled into your ear, his hands massaging the back of your head. “It won't bring anything back, but if that will make you feel better, I'll do it.”
This wasn’t an empty promise. There was sincerity behind Spike’s words, wanting to help you. It was now confirmed just how much you meant to him. He was willing to assist for payback. His offer was sweet, but it didn't feel right. This wasnt his struggle, it was yours.
You were going to catch them, and only God knew the hell you were going to bring.
#fanfiction#cowboy bebop#faye valentine#90s anime#jet black#spike spiegel requests#spike spiegel x reader#spike spiegel#radio free mars#cowboy bebop x reader#see you space cowboy#youre going to carry that weight#cowboy bebop fanfiction
83 notes
·
View notes
Note
Either "I meant to grab the popcorn, not your crotch, sorry" or "there’s a real creep at the club trying to hit me up right now and you look pretty fit so pls pretend to be my date so he can leave" with taakitz? 👀 (both were so good I couldn't make up my mind lol)
Decided to go with "there’s a real creep at the club trying to hit me up right now and you look pretty fit so pls pretend to be my date so he can leave!" Thank you!!
-
Going to the club solo is rarely a good idea. When you go by yourself, you can’t bully the person you came with to take your picture in the cool club lighting so you either have to resort to using the self-timer or deign to ask someone to take a picture for you. And they never really turn out as good as you hoped; all weird angles and blurs instead. You’re also forced to bring your drink with you everywhere you go because you’re not about to leave it on the bar when you run and pee because you’re not an idiot. This means you either expose your drink to gross bathroom particles or you waste no less than $30 over the course of a night for all the half-drunk drinks you unceremoniously drop into the trash.
Sometimes going to the club solo is a good idea. When you go by yourself, nobody thinks you’re entangled with whoever you brought. Typically this means anything from free drinks to a dance partner to a quick hookup in the gross club bathroom. If you’re into that kind of thing.
Going to the club solo is an unequivocally bad idea. Mainly because you can’t pretend to be dating who you came with when some sleazy Eurotrash hipster decides that you’re the object of his affection for the evening. And because you don’t get a constant hand to squeeze if all your senses get a little overwhelmed and you realize you’re one accidental touch of an unknown sticky surface from committing arson.
Taako knows all of this, of course. If there was a book on club dos and donts, it would probably be easier to enumerate anything Taako hadn’t done. Life’s short and all that, right?
But what’s unfortunate is that knowledge of a thing doesn’t equate to knowing how to handle a thing. So while Taako knows that being hit on by some bleach blonde German dude is always a possibility when he goes to the club, that doesn’t make the reality of it any less hellish.
“Oh, come on darling, why the looking so glum?” The dude asks, leering at Taako with a vacant smile that seems too toothy.
“Stomachache.” Taako says bluntly. He hopes that if he can make this conversation as unpleasant as possible, creepy dude’ll leave him alone. And it isn’t even a lie, this whole situation is giving him a stomachache. Not that he particularly gives a shit about lying to a stranger.
Taako glances around discreetly as he looks for any semblance of an escape route. All he sees is the densely packed club. Shit.
“Hmm. Pity. Bigger pity someone pretty as you is standing here all by yourself. It looks like you are needing a uh dance partner.” A lascivious wink is sent Taako’s way.
Taako can feel himself squirm under this guy’s gaze. He seems harmless but still too creepy for Taako’s taste. And considering how low his standards gets when he drinks, that’s saying something.
“Not really looking for a dance partner, my dude.” Taako glances around again and scoots a little further away from this guy.
The guy takes a step closer and is giving Taako that same too toothy, too sharp smile. “What are you looking for then? I am sure I can be of the assistance with whatever you are needing.” He reaches a hand out towards Taako.
Taako stiffens, takes one more step back, and feels himself collide with something solid. Bingo. With barely a glance at whoever he just bumped into, he snakes his arm around this person. “My man, I get that I’m the hottest person in here by a country mile but I don’t appreciate being hit on while I’m on a date!” Taako glances at the bastard he’s roped into this mess. He smiles a little; guy has a real kind, handsome face. Definitely could have picked worse.
If the guy is confused, he doesn’t show it. He narrows his eyes slightly as he casts a glance between Taako and the other guy, whose smile drops from his face in an instant.
Taako grins and gets on his tiptoes. He places a steadying hand on the man’s chest as his lips nearly brush the shell of his ear. “I’ll buy your next round if you keep up this charade until this guy leaves,” Taako murmurs quietly. He returns his heels to the floor and raises his eyebrows a millimeter.
In lieu of a response, his temporary date wraps a protective arm around Taako’s shoulders.
“There you are babe! I got worried you ran off on me,” he says with an easy smile.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Just got caught up on my way back from the bathroom,” Taako says, sending an icy glare to tall, blonde, and creepy.
“Hmm, I sense we are having a misunderstanding. You see, I was not aware that you were having a date.”
Taako squeezes his temporary date’s side while leaning into him. “Well, I am and I gotta say, I don’t appreciate the interruption.” He smiles as he feels himself being pulled in a little closer. Taako has to give the guy credit, he’s selling it well.
“Yeah, so if you don’t mind, we’d really like to get back to it,” his temporary date says, a stern edge creeping into his voice.
Taako breathes a sigh of relief as his nuisance of the night gives one final scowl before stomping off to another part of the club. “Hey, uh, thanks for that. Normally I can give dudes the slip pretty easy but he was persistent.” He glances back at guy who doesn’t seem to be in any big rush to move his arm from Taako’s shoulders. Not that Taako minds, exactly.
“No, don’t thank me, it’s no big deal. You okay?”
Taako nods. “I’m all good. Now, I do think I owe you a drink, handsome.”
This elicits a grin and a deep flush from his new friend.
“I’ll take a rum and coke.”
“Hmm.”
He laughs. “My drink choice not up to your standards?”
“It’s not anything with gin so I guess you’re okay,” Taako says with a smirk as he waves down a bartender. “Rum and coke for him, vodka sour for me.”
“I’m Kravitz, by the way. Figured it’s about time we were properly acquainted.”
“Taako. And you know what, Kravitz? You were really believable back there.”
“I guess being your date comes naturally.” Kravitz smiles at Taako as the bartender slides their drinks across the bar.
“I mean, I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Taako says, sipping his drink.
“Seems to be the best way I could spend my evening,” Kravitz says evenly.
“Well, play your cards right and we’ll see how the night goes.”
As Kravitz gives Taako a crooked smile, Taako has to think that going to the club solo has one benefit.
#thank you!!!#taakitz#taakitz fic#taz#taz balance#tazb#the adventure zone#ask#answered#reese writes#tentatively-positive-3#there are many benefits to going to the club solo#alcohol tw#oop forgot that original tag ah#ask to tag
73 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
spookytommy
Fringe of the Cosmos
daintycuddlep6691
PinkPenguinParade
noregonz
Marbella
lilacxquartz
lilac
shawnluongteam
Shawnluongteam