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batsandbugs · 3 years

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The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 11: Playing the Game

AN: I hope y'all enjoy this non-stop flirt-a-thon, chapter count got increased again, so we'll get back to the plot in the next chapter!

At first, Marinette didn’t know how to act. This was the last route she expected Damian to take. The shock of Damian’s lips against hers turned her body rigid; hands splayed out to the sides, unsure of where to touch. After a second of floundering, she gained enough bearing to place her hands firmly on Damian’s arms. Her once still lips hesitantly moving against his. The closed-mouth kiss stayed chaste, but Marinette found herself fluttering her eyes closed, sinking into the warmth.

Damian stood taller than her, bending into the kiss while she craned her neck. Marinette pushed herself upward, arching onto the tips of her toes, and Damian’s hands wrapped tighter around her waist, deepening the kiss. She readjusted her mouth for a second grabbing a quick gasp of air before diving in again with more fervor. Damian responded in kind, pushing her back fully against the wall, one hand migrating from her waist to cup her cheek.

Damn. Damian was a good kisser.

“What the- Hey, customers are not allowed to be in here!”

Oh, right. The employee. That’s why they were kissing.

Why would kissing be helpful in this situation?

Not that Marinette was complaining, but-

Damian pulled away from her, and Marinette held back a pitiful whine when he turned away and faced the employee.

‘Bad thoughts, Marinette,’ she chided herself. ‘Focus on the mission, not Damian, or his lips, or his eyes, or-’

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” said Damian with a bashful smile.

Wait…

Blink.

What?

Marinette dragged herself out of the kiss-induced bliss, focusing on her co-conspirator, and had she been less in control of herself her jaw would have dropped.

Damian’s whole demeanor had markedly changed. His normal sharp posture sunk into a causal slouch; the emotions on his face, generally a mix of sharp observation or practiced disdain, now a mix of charming elegance and, yes, bashfulness. He flashed a wide grin at the oncoming employee, a person in their early twenties, who froze when they saw them.

Or rather, Damian.

Rapidly blinking bright blue eyes gazed at them. “Oh, oh you- you’re-”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know who I am,” said Damian, rubbing the back of his neck. Even the way he spoke changed; careful pronunciation and formality thrown out the window for a lax New Jersian drawl. “What’s your name?” He asked with such a genuine smile, had Marinette not been versed in people lying through their teeth, she would have bought it.

Not for the first time, Marinette wondered how famous Damian’s family was – obviously rich enough, and high profile enough - to be recognized on the spot.

The person paused for a moment, fiddling with a strand of curly blond hair. “I’m- I’m ah… Fey, nice to meet you Mr.-”

Damian cut them off with a laugh. “Oh please, any name with a mister makes me think of my father or my older brother. Call me Dami.” He offered a hand to the flustered Fey. They limply shook it.

“Oh… ah- alright Dami.”

Damian encircled a hand around Marinette’s waist dragging her out of the weirdness induced fugue state she’d fallen into. “And this… well,” he lowered his eyes, catching her attention and winked. “This is my girlfriend Marinette.”

Fuck, this is what he meant by play along.

Fey dropped open their mouth before closing it quickly.

“Oh, I hadn’t read-”

Damian cut the flustered employee off again.

“We’ve kept it quiet.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The papers would devour a story like this,” he said, with a sense of vapid annoyance, although a trace of his normal calculated disdain accented his words.

Note to self; Damian didn’t like the media. Good, Marinette didn’t much like the invasive vultures either.

Fey nodded along, twirling a lock of hair on their finger. “Oh yeah, that totally makes sense.” They paused shaking their head to clear away an emotion… awe? Fear? Marinette couldn’t tell. “But uh, why are you here? Like in the stairwell, not in the store. Because of course celebrities would still shop, right? I mean-” Poor Fey was a stuttering mess. Marinette almost felt bad for them.

She felt like an absolute stuttering mess too, but she would be damned if Damian would carry this lie all by himself.

She was fucking Ladybug; savior of Paris, Guardian of the Miraculous.

She could act like a lovestruck fool.

“It iz so sweet,” she said, emphasizing her accent to add a little more pageantry to this entire scheme. “I just arrived back from Paris, and wanted to decorate my new apartment with ze ah-” she waved her hands around, “Oh, how you Americans put it? Fairy lights?”

Fey nodded quickly. “Yeah, we have a couple of good selections, but-” Marinette continued before they could logic their way out of the made-up cover story.

“I planned to go by myself, but Dami-” at this she moved forward to wrap her arms around his, leaning into his side. The warmth of his body bleeding through his clothes. “He insisted on ‘companying me even though he dozen’t like ze crowds.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “He gets grumpy,” she divulged with a girlish giggle. Why Damian did a 180 on his personality was a complete mystery, but if he dropped the act, this would make Fey less suspicious.

Fey nodded right along like Marinette’s comment made total sense. “Yeah, I don’t read too many magazines, but damn they must pin you all wrong,” they said to Damian. From Marinette’s position at his side, she felt his body tense the slightest amount. “Gotham’s Ice Prince, yeah right.”

Marinette inwardly quirked an eyebrow. ‘Ice Prince, huh?’ The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on where she’d heard it before.

Damian nervously chuckled again, sounding more authentic this time. “Oh no, I’m a grump when it comes to the media, I fully admit. My, ah,” he looked at her again, an apology flashing in his green eyes. “Angel here puts me in a better mood.”

A rushing noise filled Marinette’s ears, and her heart quickened. She vaguely registered a squeal of delight coming from Fey, but it sounded far away compared to her blood pounding at a thunderous level. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and the confident smile she plastered on her face almost dropped at the pet name.

Angel.

He called her angel.

What level of utter insanity had she dropped into?

“A few disguises later,” Damian continued, adjusting the glasses on his face, and oblivious of the turmoil he’d created in Marinette’s mind. “I thought we’d be able to stay under the radar, I just wanted a day out with my girlfriend,” he said with a put-upon sigh. The emotional, charming actions stood in complete opposite to Damian’s normal demeanor.

Marinette found herself desperately torn between breaking down laughing hysterically or clapping at Damian’s masterful performance.

“You got noticed?” asked Fey.

“We got noticed.” Damian sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. Marinette regretted not touching it while she and Damian kissed; was it as fluffy as it looked? “And Marinette, the sweet angel she is, isn’t used to the whole utter insanity of… you know, dating a celebrity.” He glanced at her, teasing her with a fonder smirk than his usual. Marinette wanted to roll her eyes. Damian had no clue she knew very well the consequences of dating a celebrity.

Never mind she’d only dated Adrian a month before they broke up because his dad turned out to be a psychopathic supervillain intent on plunging the whole of France into an apocalyptic hellscape in an attempt to upset the universes’ balance, and was fully okay with killing the both of them to make it happen.

Being friends after that little debacle was the better option. For both their sanities.

‘Focus Marinette.’ She dragged her attention back to the conversation.

“We kinda ducked in here when nobody was paying attention. I want to keep this away from the media as long as possible, for my angel’s privacy.” Marinette wanted to scoff at how Damian leaned into that nickname. He certainly was laying it on thick. Marinette wouldn’t have bought the act, but that was due to her years of lying and deceiving in the name of super-heroics.

Fey, with their eager demeanor and bright blue eyes, didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh, that’s awful people wouldn’t leave you alone. I bet most celebrities would be familiar with the attention, but for you to look out for Marinette too?” They whistled. “Damn girl, he’s a keeper for sure.”

The blush gracing Marinette’s cheeks was 100% real. “Oh, well, ah, zank you. I know.”

“Well, no one will hear a word from me,” Fey promised. They fiddled with their hands and sent a shy smile at Damian. Marinette’s stomach clenched at the sight, and without her permission, her traitorous hands tightened their grip on Damian’s arm. “Without your family’s scholarship, my sister never would have graduated med school. She would kill me if I even thought of ratting you out to the papers.”

“Oh…” said Damian, his outward appearance of shock mirroring Marinette’s own internal emotions.

‘His family is rich enough to fund medical scholarships?’

“Well, that’s not on me directly, you know,” he commented. “All my father’s doing. I hope- ah… I hope she’s doing well?” Although his face portrayed a bashful and relaxed air, his body language screamed uncomfortableness. Marinette released one hand from his arm and brought it to rest on the small of his back, circling her thumb around. He relaxed, slightly, and Marinette smiled.

“Yeah, actually she is,” said Fey beaming. “She’s working at the new pediatric clinic that opened in Crime Alley.”

“Good for her,” said Damian honestly. “We need more people willing to work to make the city a better place. Money can only do so much.”

“Money definitely helps though,” Fey replied, wryly. Marinette agreed. Long-buried memories of her early years arose. Living above her parents’ shop, where every month they spread their bills across the kitchen table and talked in hushed tones while Marinette sat on the steps to her attic room and worried, even if at five and six she didn’t know what she was worried about.

Those days were long gone. Her parents and their creations internationally famous, with three separate locations across the greater Paris metro alone. But that worry never really went away.

Fey shifted on their feet reading their watch. “Well, you guys stay here if you want until whatever crowd out there loses interest.” They gestured to the door Marinette and Damian entered through. “Or you can come with me if you want?” Pointing to the other locked door. “I’m heading out to the atrium to deal with a problem, but you can continue on with your shopping.”

“Zank you so much,” Marinette replied. “We will go with you if you do not mind?”

“Of course not,” said Fey, walking to the door and pulling out a security key. They opened the door, but Damian held it allowing Marinette and Fey to walk through before he followed. Placing a hand once more around Marinette’s waist.

“What problem in the atrium, if you don’t mind me asking?” he prodded, sharing a look with Marinette.

It could be nothing, but it could also have something to do with his brothers.

Considering their luck today, Marinette would be shocked if it wasn’t the latter option.

“Oh, well it started with the children’s center shutting down. Apparently, the kids got it in their minds to start a dodge ball fight with the workers. Which, you know, totally fair,” confided Fey, as they walked through the back corridors. “Sounded like it was a blast to watch. I was such a shit when I was a kid, I would have joined them in a heartbeat. It wrapped up fairly quickly, but they can’t convince the main instigator to descend from the jungle gym. I think they’re still hunting down her parents.”

Marinette pursed her lips trying to hold back a smile. ‘Oh, Abby,’ she thought, ‘you absolute gem.’

“I only heard about it from Lisa when I got back because I was dealing with a security issue in the back lot.” Fey glanced at them nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong, we’re perfectly safe.”

Marinette and Damian shared a look.

Jason.

“Of course,” said Marinette.

Followed by a quick, “Absolutely,” from Damian.

Fey relaxed. “So this is, apparently, a whole bunch of workers on strike? They walked out of the back warehouse and congregated in the atrium, spouting on about living wages and corrupt big business, and the effects of verbal abuse in the workplace.” Fey said with a wave of their arms. “And it’s not like I don’t agree, because I do. Jerry, the warehouse general manager, is an asshole.” Marinette and Damian exchange worried glances at the rotund angry man’s name, who they last saw dragging a singed Tim into an office.

“…but it makes my job hard,” whined Fey, oblivious to their compatriot’s inner panic. “And the Starbucks baristas joined them, so their kiosk closed too.” Fey chuckled, “I would avoid the whole area if I were you, especially if you don’t want anyone finding out you’re together.”

“I wonder how zat ended up happening?” Marinette asked hopefully her high-pitched voice conveyed confusion instead of slowly settling in panic.

“They called in saying some guy lead the charge, he’s worked the crowd into a fervor. I’m there to be the HR rep while security tries to remove him. You know, normally my job involves sitting at a desk all day listening to bitchy customers on the phone. I’ve dealt with more in-store problems today since last Black Friday.” Fey chuckled. “What a day, ya’ know?”

Marinette glanced at Damian, his casual mask still firmly in place, although his left eye twitched, and the hand he wrapped around her waist, tightened at Fey’s words.

Fey finally reached another door, pulling out their pass and lead them out into the store’s main section.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Marinette, Dami,” Fey chirped. “Nobody will hear from me about any of this.” They mimed zipping their lips.

Marinette smiled, hoping the strain wasn’t too noticeable. “It waz nice to meet you too Fey.”

“Good luck with whatever is happening in the atrium,” said Damian. They stood at the door and watched them move out of sight. When Fey finally disappeared around a corner, Damian turned to Marinette his casual persona rippling away as if it never existed at all. His hand slipped off her waist.

She did not, absolutely not, want to grab it and put it back thank you very much.

“How much do you wish to wager on Drake’s involvement in whatever is occurring in the atrium?” he asked. Marinette smiled, reassured at the return of his clipped and formal tone. The informal speech felt wrong coming from Damian’s mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know Dami?” she teased. Then again, she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by her. “I don’t think I have enough money for that bet with you.”

Damian closed his eyes with a grimace and sigh. “Do not call me that.” He opened his eyes, an expression just short of pleading radiated from them “Please.”

“I would rather gag, and it sounds so would you.” Marinette covered her grin with her hand, unable to stop a slight giggle at the man’s long-suffering tone. “You pulled off vapid lovesick celebrity well, but why the need to act at all?”

“I have plenty of reference to draw from,” he grumbled, piquing Marinette’s interest; every half aside comment enticing her to dig further at Damian’s life. “I needed whoever descended those steps on our side and my normal... demeanor tends to put people off.” He folded his hands behind his back, a perfect picture of casualness, but the tightness around his eyes and the twitch of his mouth was all Marinette needed to note his self-consciousness.

“Well, I for one find your usual self charming,” Marinette admitted, pleased when Damian relaxed at her words. “You freaked me out acting that weird.”

“It is not an option I use often,” Damian admitted. “My brothers tend to make big productions of themselves. I prefer a far subtler approach, but this required more theatrics to make it believable.” He glanced at her. “I hope…” he paused. She watched his hand flutter and turn into a fist at his side. “I hope I did not overstep your bounds, that is, I mean violate your...” Damian refused to look at her, his gaze firmly planted on a far wall.

Marinette could let the poor man continue but ended up taking pity on him before he dug an even deeper hole. She placed a hand on his arm. “You were fine. If I didn’t want you… kissing me,” she said the words out loud for the first time, reigning in a pleasurable shudder at the memory. “I would have pushed you off, and if I felt violated, which I didn’t, you would have found yourself on the ground in plenty of pain.”

Damian dragged his gaze back to hers, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Undoubtedly, yes, you easily could have done so.”

Marinette smirked again, not willing to let the entire debacle slip away quite yet though. “Although I have to ask, where in the world did angel come from? And what on earth made you think it would be a good nickname for our fake relationship?”

Damian lifted his nose haughtily. “It is a perfectly acceptable name of affection for a significant other. What, did you wish for ‘sweetheart’ or ‘doll’?” he asked, drawing out those names with the earlier casual New Jersian accent. Marinette withheld a shiver at his low tone of voice curling those words around his tongue. She may prefer his normal speech, but damn he still sounded unbearably attractive when he dropped that low.

‘Focus, Marinette. FOCUS!’ she inwardly screamed at herself.

“Goodness no,” said Marinette, forcing a pretend shudder. “Something with more class perhaps? Darling, or beloved?”

Damian pursed his lips. “Not beloved. That’s what my mother refers to my father with.” Marinette winced, yeah, that could be awkward. Not that this whole conversation wasn’t a disaster plucked out of a fever dream. Why, why was she debating Damian on the finer points of affectionate nickname giving?

But her mouth continued talking. “Alright, I suppose angel isn’t bad in comparison. Still, it’s a bit cliché. What does that make you? A demon?”

Damian tilted his head with a shrug. “Tt. My brothers do call me that on occasion, yes.” Oh right, Jason called him demon-spawn a few times during their confrontation. With the way Damian rolled his eyes in annoyance, Marinette figured a story lurked behind that particular nickname.

“Regardless, we have strayed dangerously off-topic here. We should head towards the pandemonium in the atrium, yes?” Damian pushed off the wall he’d leaned against, and Marinette followed.

“I thought it was Panic at the Disco?” Marinette teased with a grin.

Damian pointed a finger at her, trying for a stern expression, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “You think yourself terribly clever, don’t you?”

“I think I’m adorable,” she shot back. “But I also think you’re right. It sounds like Tim managed to involve himself. If he’s making a scene, I bet he’ll draw the rest of your brothers there too.”

“You think Grayson will escape the clutches of that ravenous she-wolf?”

Marinette scoffed. “Damian, you’ll insult wolves with that comparison. I thought she resembled more of a hyena myself.” The woman certainly shrieked enough for it. “From what I saw, your brother probably ducked out at the first opportunity available to him.”

“True. Which leaves Todd, and nothing attracts his attention more than a spectacle. Especially when Drake stands chance to make a fool of himself.” Turning a corner they found themselves several yards away from the open-aired atrium. A crowd of people lingered around the railing looking into the courtyard below. Clapping and cheers fill the air.

“Shall we?” asked Marinette, excitement brewing in her chest.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” grumbled Damian. “But I suppose we must.”

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#the great ikea game #daminette #damian x marinette #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #maribat #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #damianette #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, sub!jungkook, dom!reader, pegging, anal play, rimming, multiple orgasms, crying during sex, jk being a good good boy, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, bath sex, ageplay/DDlg, fingering, unprotected sex, pet names, spanking, creampie, aftercare in both cases

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and jk’s ass

DAY EIGHTEEN

All things considered; you were rather lucky to be sharing a room with Yoongi when you wake up that morning.

The second consciousness returns to you, it brings a feeling of nausea so abrupt that you’re careening off the bed and rushing to bed over the toilet without a second’s thought, body running on survival mode.

You’re not sure what wakes Yoongi - the sudden absence of pressure and heat against him, or the sound of you throwing up all the food and alcohol you’d consumed last night – but it takes mere moments before you feel him gently caressing your trembling body, lifting your tangled hair back off your face.

“Just let it out,” he coos softly as you bend over miserably, the sour taste on your tongue making your stomach turn again, “you’ll feel better after, I promise. That’s it.”

The moment you finally have nothing left to empty out, you collapse sideways onto the cool bathroom tile, hand curling over your stomach. Yoongi gets up to flush the toilet and gets out a spare toothbrush from under his sink, pressing it into your hand already prepped with toothpaste. “I’m sorry,” you mumble lowly, nose running slightly as you sniffle. “I think I drank too much. That green apple soju fucking sucks, too.”

The doctor has the good graces to smile at your attempt of lightening the mood, but it’s strained, waiting for you to begin brushing the acrid leftovers from your mouth before speaking. “You’d better have a light breakfast, okay? Some toast and maybe a cup of herbal tea to settle your stomach. Can you stand? I’ll get you some fresh clothes from your room while you take a shower here.”

Your heart warms at his endearing bedside manner. “I’ll be fine, Yoongi.”

“It’s non-negotiable, I’m afraid,” Yoongi says with a mock sigh. “Come on; you can wash your hair, too. Feeling nice and clean will help.”

Sniffing one last time, you give him an agreeing nod and hunker up on your knees, before standing. God, but why do you still feel so nauseous? That fucking soju. Yoongi must see the discomfort on your face, because he gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Not to worry, I’m sure I have something here you can take which will make you feel better. You aren’t the first person to not handle their liquor in the villa.”

You give him a questioning frown, your throat feeling raw as you clear it lightly. “What do you mean? Everyone seemed okay yesterday.”

“Hoseok texted me,” Yoongi answers with a shrug. “I didn’t see it ‘til after you fell asleep, but apparently poor Tae was curled up with a hot water bottle last night feeling rather sorry for himself. I think he got a little trigger-happy on his Sprite and soju mixers.”

Your brows furrow in concern, your own condition forgotten. “Is he alright?” You mentally kick yourself for not being more attentive to him. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel excluded now that he was voted out.

“He’s fine, I’m sure. Hoseokie and Jimin apparently actually spent the night in the bunk room with him, because both refused to leave. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.”

“Holy shit,” you muse. “If you weren’t so busy filling me like a cream puff maybe we could’ve witnessed that.”

Yoongi’s mouth gapes at your jibe, and you let out a hiccupping giggle when he rushes you, jabbing at your sides. “You little shit! That’s how you repay me after yesterday?”

You chuckle, feeling significantly more cheerful than when you woke up. “I gotta keep you humble, Doctor Min.”

His shoulders jump with a fond huff. “You’re impossible,” he gives in with a begrudging smile. “Now go; shower! I’ll be back.”

By the time you’re downstairs, enjoying some lightly buttered toast and an aromatic peachy-tasting tea - laughing with Taehyung who has slunk downstairs like a viscous goop, slumped on the table sucking on a vitamin table - any concerns or worries about your brief vomiting spell have entirely left your mind.

Jungkook is antsy.

He cycles madly between intense eye-contact and complete avoidance of your existence, looking for all intents and purposes like a deer in headlights. You imagine it’s because he wants to do his prompt today, and you certainly could dispel the awkward tension by just asking him if he wants to go upstairs or texting him to dig a little, but where would the fun in that be? You much prefer cuddling with Taehyung and a chunky blanket, pretending to watch The Voice of Korea while you really watch Jungkook squirm instead.

Taehyung sighs wistfully as a contestant finishes with a belted high note, all four judges slamming down their buttons and giving the cameras big reactions once they turn and catch a glimpse of the singer. “I wish I could be on the show,” the masseuse says with another slow sigh.

You grin, poking him in the cheek with a single finger. “Is our puppy a good singer, huh? Do you reckon you’d win?”

“What?” Taehyung asks distractedly, his eyes locked to the screen. “No, I wanna sit in those big chairs and spin around. It’d be so fun.”

Your surprised laugh makes Jungkook jump in his seat, even as he sits on the opposite couch to the two of you and glares intensely at the pages of a comic book he’d stolen from someone, spending far too long on one page to actually be reading it.

Hoseok, who sits completely silently next to Jungkook - extremely strange for the normally bubbly man - is even more suspicious. Every few seconds, he shoves his phone under Jungkook’s nose, before pulling it away and typing furiously.

You had no doubt in your mind that he was giving the youngest contestant salacious tips, instructions, or both, judging by the way Jungkook’s cheeks get hotter with every message.

A lazy day after the drunken entertainment from the day before, the four of you had chosen to collapse onto the couch and stay there, flicking between channels as you idly enjoyed each other’s company. Namjoon had texted the groupchat and put a note on his door warning people that he was studying for an exam for a summer course he’d signed up for. This was the first you’d heard of said course, but his messages had contained several exclamation points, so you knew it was serious.

Jimin was also making the most of his privacy. The only glimpse you’d seen of him at all today was while you and Taehyung were cleaning your dishes. He’d rushed down in a fluffy white bathrobe, covering his face with his sleeve, bemoaning the drinking that had done serious damage to his clear skin. When he dropped his sleeve to bundle some ice into a paper towel, it looked fine to you, albeit pinker in the cheeks and forehead than his bare face had been before, but he swore the two of you to silence and determined he was going to lock himself into his room until he no longer looked like “an evil stepmother.”

Jin and Yoongi were nowhere to be found, though most of the house were almost certain they’d become something akin to fuckbuddies considering how often they disappeared together, and how rampant and shameless their sexual tension was whenever they cooked together for the rest of you.

It had taken a while for Taehyung to bounce back from his hangover, Hoseok fussing over him like a child as Tae clung to you for some tactile comfort. Spending a day by yourself hadn’t really been an option when you’d been cuddling with him for hours, but you were far happier spending some quality time with the masseuse.

It takes no more than three new contestants on the TV show to have their moment in front of the judges for Jungkook to break. Hoseok’s given up on the phone messages, instead whispering directly Jungkook’s ear as the boy clutches the open comic book in front of his lap so hard his knuckles go white.

Laughing at the flustered camboy, Hoseok loses all tact and stops damping his voice, his natural level loud enough that you can make it out over the garishly aggressive appliance store advertisement on the TV. “Come on, Kookie, it’ll be great!” he insists, Jungkook cringing at the volume. “Switching things up will help your chances for fan favourite too, and surely you’ve done-”

Jungkook stands up abruptly, comic book still propped up in front of his crotch as his cheeks and neck go bright red. “If you like pegging so much, why don’t you do it, then?” he blurts with a cry, before the realisation of what he said aloud hits him. Choking on air, he just about trips back onto the couch in his haste to leave, stomping upstairs like a wronged teenager.

Everyone goes silent, a cheery female voice announcing that Subway’s quality is higher than ever being the only sound in the room. Mouth open, you blink over to Hoseok. “Should I… go check on him?”

“Uh- Yeah, maybe,” he admits, a slight pained look of guilt flickering across his face before he brightens up. “But it’s dangerous; you should take a strap with you.”

You pause halfway through standing up, Taehyung letting go of you and curling deeper into the pile of blankets. “Have you no shame, Hoseok? You humiliated the poor kid!”

Hoseok grins broadly. “He only reacted that much because he liked the idea,” he protests, before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “And what about you, princess? Do you like the idea?”

You swallow, straightening up fully. “I haven’t really thought about it until now, I guess,” you offer up slowly. “I’m not- I’m not opposed.” But even as you say that, you begin to picture it. Jungkook on all fours in front of you, or perhaps spread out on his back, brows furrowed in pleasure, clingy and whiny. Though it was certainly new ground to you, most things were these days, and you’ve started craving fresh experiences, feeling more alive and excited about sex than you’ve ever really felt before.

A lightly huffed laugh leaves Hoseok’s lips. “I’d say you’re a little more than ambivalent, judging by that look on your face. Go upstairs now, princess; Jungkook’s ass needs you.”

You scoff, patting Taehyung’s cheek goodbye before leaving the way the maknae left earlier. Upstairs, Jungkook’s door is open the slightest sliver. A shy invitation.

You knock anyway, calling out his name. When his sullen voice invites you in, you slip inside and shut the door behind you. With his head hanging, shoulders slumped, poor Jungkook looks miserable. “Oh, Gukkie, baby, you’re okay,” you soothe, rushing to his side.

Folding his hands cutely over his crotch, he keeps his head down, but nuzzles against your stomach when you pull him into an embrace, running your hands through the long, heavy black locks of his hair. “‘M sorry,” he murmurs, lifting a single hand to ball his fist in the fabric of your shirt.

Your heart warms at the little action even as it aches for his sadness. “What are you sorry for? You don’t have to be sorry.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you can just about hear the pout. “Embarrassed,” he explains shortly. “You probably think it’s gross.”

“Of course I don’t,” you deny in a soft yet firm voice, still stroking his hair. “Baby, if you want me to do it for you, I will.”

He looks up suddenly, chin propped up on your stomach. “Really?” he asks in hope, eyes glittering like entire galaxies.

You shrug. “I mean, I haven’t used a strap-on before, so it probably won’t be very good, but I wanna try if it’s something that would make you happy, you know?”

Jungkook’s mouth parts sweetly, before he lets out a dejected breath. “I don’t know,” he says with a sigh, letting his head drop off you again. “I still feel really embarrassed. Hobi-hyung was te-teasing me so much.”

You wince at the way his voice hitches and wobbles, like he’s on the verge of tears. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” you coo. “I think he was just trying to encourage you. But if he made you uncomfortable, I can go down there right now and-”

As you start to shift away, a hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist, snagging you in place. “No,” Jungkook interrupts quickly, before turning sullen again, lifting up his head so that you can just barely see his eyes, gleaming with unshed tears. “Can you just stay with me?”

Reaching forward to cup his cheek and bring his gaze up, you send him your warmest smile. “I’ll stay,” you promise, “want me to help cheer you up? I don’t like seeing my Gukkie so sad.”

His bottom lip quivers as he nods, fingers tightening around your wrist, tugging you back to his side. “Yes, please,” he asks politely, voice still so hesitant as his gaze drops like he’s too shy to meet yours, face pressing into your palm. “Want you to make me feel better.”

Your breath hitches when his eyes dart up, just for a second, and reveal a glimmer that isn’t tears so much as mischief. You realise quickly that perhaps Jungkook is pulling on your heartstrings intentionally, luring you in just like he did the day after the fight, when everyone in the house bent over backwards to give him what he wanted. But you aren’t mad; truth be told, every second that passes, you grow more excited about what’s to come. “Of course I will,” you reply warmly. “Can I give you a kiss, baby?”

One thing you aren’t prepared for as you carefully straddle his lap and press your lips against his is just how differently he kisses when he’s in this submissive frame of mind. You’d associated Jungkook with hunger, fierce passion and need. This Jungkook was needy, but in a very different way. Lips parted, he tilts his chin and lets you take over, his fingers curling tightly in the fabric of your shirt, his long hair tickling against your cheeks.

And unlike the more dominant Jungkook that would kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, the camboy now seems impatient, hips shifting under you and whines leaving his throat as he breaks apart, lips swollen. “Will you fuck me, Y/n? I need you.”

Sucking in a breath, you’re nodding before you’ve even really processed his words. “How do I, uh, what should I-”

“The stuff’s in my nightstand drawer,” Jungkook offers up in explanation. The young man bites his lip, looking positively delectable. In a starch-white t-shirt that simultaneously swamps his figure but exposes his delicate collarbones with the v-neck, and his long locks tucked behind his ears, no imagination is required to see how easily he fits into this subby persona. Even as he’s physically much larger than you, and there’s no hiding his thick thighs and broad shoulders, his expression and posture alone convey plenty. “But, um… Could you- could you help prepare me first? I can if you’re uncomfortable, you know. No pressure.”

“I can,” you assure quickly, standing up when he wriggles meaningfully beneath you. “I mean, I want to. Is it, you know…?” You trail off, watching Jungkook scoot himself back so that his feet don’t quite touch the floor. He tilts his head in confusion. “Clean?” you hiss softly, cheeks flaming.

Jungkook freezes, eyes wide and mouth parted in a small o. “I- Yeah, it’s, uh, clean, I-”

“Sorry,” you grimace, “that totally ruined the mood, didn’t it? I’m new to this.”

“You don’t have to, honestly,” Jungkook says with a small voice, fiddling with the loose threads in the rips of his jeans. “I can do it.”

You’re really fucking this up, huh? “No, no, I want to, it’s fine!”

“I swear, I won’t be offended if it weirds you out-”

Without a pause to think, your lips are moving. “Pants off, Gukkie, I’m going to finger you,” you announce in a firm voice, chin jutting forward in your determination.

You hadn’t even intended to use it as power play, more so just insisting what you were okay with, but his reaction is undeniable. Jungkook visibly melts at your command, eyelids fluttering for a moment and shoulders going lax. Even his socked feet turn inwards, the complete posture of submission. The image of it sends heat through you, and you feel alive with it.

“Th-thank you,” Jungkook stutters, chest hitching. “How do you want me?”

Even though you don’t know the least about fingering or prepping, you’re quickly growing addicted to the way he responds to your authority, so you make a split second decision. “All fours, baby. And clothes off for me.”

Jungkook bites down a whine - how you wish he wouldn’t muffle himself - but obeys quickly, stripping all the way down to his socks, toeing them off hastily before getting on his knees. Clearly a position he’s used to, the camboy wastes no time in presenting himself, upper torso flat against the bed and back arched up to expose himself. With a cheek pressed against the mattress to look back at you, his hair slips over and covers his face.

Before he has the chance to huff, you reach forward and tuck it back behind his ear, tapping your finger once on his nose to make him scrunch it, a toothy grin on his face. “Y/n!” he protests with a hiccupy giggle.

“What?” you ask innocently. “I’m just trying to help out, baby. Can I ask you a favour?”

Jungkook’s grinning so widely that his eyes crinkle. “You’re the dom, Y/n, you don’t need to ask favours, you know?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right,” you muse. It’s so easy to forget that the control is yours, especially when you’re a bit out of your depth. Resolving yourself to be more authoritative, you clear your throat and school your expression. “Mouth open, Gukkie.”

Following your command so quickly that there’s an audible sound, Jungkook braces himself up a little with his forearms so that he can face you better with his jaw wide open and tongue lolled out on his bottom lip.

When you place your first two fingers of your dominant hand on that pretty pink tongue, you don’t even have to command him to suck before he’s wrapping his lips around them and hollowing his cheeks, blinking up at you for approval.

You try and use the past couple weeks of dirty talk from the guys to inspire you when talking to Jungkook, using your other hand to comb the hair back from his face again. “That’s it, baby,” you croon, “nice and wet; soak them for me. What a good boy.”

Keening under your praise, still bent over on his knees, Jungkook swirls his tongue and salivates over your digits diligently. It feels strange; the hot wet cavern, the muscle covering every inch of your skin. Your stomach flips in arousal when you begin to tug your fingers out and he pulls off them with a pop, drool on his chin and pupils blown wide.

“Alright, Gukkie, stay there,” you indicate, holding your spit-slicked fingers aloft as you get on the bed behind him. Cock dangling hard between his legs, he’s hunkered down, heels pressed against his upper thighs. You could easily reach him from here, but there’s something rising within you, an urge to play with him a little rougher.

He jumps and lets out a surprised cry when you rain down your other palm on his asscheek in a swift spank, head falling back to the mattress.

“Did I say you could lie down? Ass up, Gukkie,” you spit sharply, satisfaction curling around your ribs as he lifts his hips without delay, back arching beautifully to present himself once again. A roughly hand-shaped pink flush on his otherwise unblemished skin makes you bite your lip. “Colour?”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, fingers fisting the sheets. You fear the worst for a second, but it seems like it just took him a second to comprehend you, because just as soon as the worry rises, he lets out a cute gasp of realisation and spreads his knees further. “Green, so green.”

“Good boy,” you praise, relief clear in your voice. “A single hair out of position without my permission and there’ll be more where that came from.” Though you secretly admit spanking the responsive boy feels good in some odd way, you’d feel a lot better knowing when he’d intentionally stepped out of line, and so giving him a specific avenue assuages some of your potential guilt over the impact play. He seems to understand too, nodding his head sweetly and visibly flexing this thighs to keep steady.

This isn’t usually an angle you’re used to seeing on a guy, but as you gently circle the tight muscle of his rim, you marvel at how Jungkook still makes it look good. Entirely free of hair, ass, thighs and back thick and sculpted, it’s clear the visual is an important thing, especially in his line of work.

You can feel his body go slightly stiff when he holds his breath, but the slightest pressure makes him tremble, his eyes loosely shut as he focuses on pure sensation. Wary of the spit drying off your fingers too soon, you swiftly but smoothly slide your first finger all the way inside of him. There’s resistance up until the first knuckle as he clenches, but once you reach a certain point it’s like his body is letting you in. So tight that you can feel his walls flex, it’s an odd sensation to get used to, but you know from experience that the first intrusion feels odd to receive, too, and that only building up stimulation helps get past it.

For that reason, you don’t pause much before you begin fucking your one finger into him, using your other hand to grasp the flesh of his ass and part him. “Doing so well, baby,” you compliment when Jungkook lets out a guttural, drawn-out whine. Minutely, you feel his hips rock, seeking stimulation in the right place. You know he’s probably aching for his prostate to be touched, but you haven’t the slightest clue on where to find it.

Instead, your next best option is external. Once you draw your first finger out and start to stretch his rim on two, you reach around and under him, hand wrapping around his cock.

Startled, Jungkook goes iron-tight around your two fingers and cries out. You freeze, worried you’ve done something wrong, but he rocks himself back, burying your fingers deeper inside him.

Even in your uncertainty on how to proceed, you know one thing: he’s actively chosen to move out of place.

This time when you drop his length and come back up to spank him, he moans, face going lax and dopey. “Fu-fuck, please,” he breathes, “I’m sorry, I need more.”

“You need more?” you ask, soothing a palm over the reddened skin. “I didn’t realise you were in any position to be making demands, baby.”

Jungkook swallows heavily. “Please give me more, I can take it, please.”

“That’s more like it,” you state proudly, before cringing at how cheesy the words sound to your own ears. Although taking control is fun, you don’t feel as at ease with a filthy tongue like you were used to the others being. Jungkook however, unable to see your reaction, just makes a needy noise in his throat, hotly anticipating your next move.

As you start to move your fingers again, however, they don’t glide like they did before. Unlike a proper lubricant, his saliva has evaporated away, and the dry friction certainly can’t be pleasant.

He’d said the supplies were in his nightstand, but that’s well out of your arm span, so, thinking quickly and not wanting Jungkook to feel uncomfortable, you pull your fingers out gingerly, bend down and spit directly onto his winking hole, some of it disappearing inside as the rest runs down to his balls.

Since he insisted he could take it, you hook three fingers inside him, his hole stretching around you as he groans. There’s so much pressure on your fingers as you plunge inside, the friction aided by your saliva, and you can feel the way he tries to relax himself, clenching periodically.

As much as the spit helped, you become paranoid that it’ll dry out again as you stretch him on your fingers. Still too far from the lube, the thought occurs to you that you could keep him wetter if you just used your mouth.

The thought isn’t entirely unappealing to you. Sure, he doesn’t have the same nerves that make you feel so good when someone goes down on you, but you’re sure he’d enjoy it, and you’re reassured that he’d cleaned himself.

The second your tongue traces his rim, pressing between the tight ring and your knuckles, Jungkook gasps, before letting out a moan so high and keening that you practically salivate.

With your free hand inching around to grip his thigh and steady yourself, you press your chin between his ass cheeks and lap at him, fingers speeding up now that they’re better lubricated.

His hips won’t stay still, but you can’t blame him. From the constant trail of cries and whimpers, there’s no doubt Jungkook is extremely sensitive. Slowly, the thought of stretching him out for a purpose leaves your mind, and you begin to take your time with him, enjoying the feeling and sound of him falling apart from your touch.

You could get used to this; the meaty thighs trembling, the heaving breaths, the moans of your name on his tongue. At one point, your middle finger grazes a slightly protruding spot inside him, a different texture to the rest of his walls. The second it does, he jumps like he’s been electrocuted. Aha.

“Oh, fuck, feels s-so good, please do that again, fuck,” Jungkook babbles hopelessly. Your grip on his thigh quickly morphs from steadying yourself to holding him steady, as he jerks with every repeated stroke of your finger against his prostate.

Unable to respond verbally, you stiffen your tongue and push it deeper inside him as your fingers speed up, all corkscrewing directly towards that sensitive spot.

So noisy that he buries his own face in the blankets, rocking back desperately onto your face and fingers, Jungkook’s pleading and praises are garbled, one long stream of need until he finally lets out one loud, sharp cry and paints the mattress white.

Lifting yourself up to watch him cum, you speed up your fingers to ride him through it, devouring the sight of his red, untouched cock twitching and shooting ropes of cum as his whole body shudders with it.

There’s the undeniable warmth of pride in your chest at watching him cum so beautifully, at hearing and seeing the pleasure you’ve given him. You’d give anything to make him cum at your hands over and over, and in the back of your mind you marvel at how so many things the guys did to you when they dommed you make sense now.

Slowly, he comes back down from his high, chest heaving rhythmically as he catches his breath, going slack. You guide him to roll over onto his back, avoiding the puddle of quickly-cooling cum, and sit beside him brushing back the hair that clings to his sweaty face.

A dopey smile puffing up his cheeks, and eyes hazy, he blinks up at you. “That was so good,” he breathes.

Keeping your voice sweet, you raise a brow. “Do you think we’re done just because you came, Gukkie? I don’t think so.”

His smile falters, eyes regaining some of their clarity. “I- Oh, you didn’t- Do you want me to...?” he trails off, eyes falling down to between your legs, still fully clothed.

Though you’d love for him to make you cum - truth be told, your nerves feel like they’re working doubletime right now, and you know it wouldn’t take much - you shake your head, standing up off the bed. Jungkook whines and sits up slightly as you pull away, but freezes once you begin to undress in front of him.

Unbuttoning your shirt, you feel his eyes follow your movements hungrily. “I never even gave you permission to cum, baby,” you point out. “I also didn’t ask you not to, so I won’t punish you. But you did ask for me to fuck you and make you feel better.” The fabric of your shirt falling to the floor, you leave your bra on and slip off your pants instead. “So I don’t care how sensitive you are or how many times you cum, I’m going to fuck you until you feel so good you cry. Is that understood?”

Where such vulgarity came from you don’t know, but it triggers the right reaction, Jungkook going limp against the bed, grabby hands flexing at the sheets as he nods as quick as he can, one drifting dangerously close to his still half-hard cock. “Please, I wan’ it. Yes.”

“Wait patiently, then,” you command in a cutting tone, discarding your underwear without ceremony, “and no touching.”

He lets out a quiet huff, leg kicking out and hand slipping under his back to stop temptation. You would laugh at the bratty display - or perhaps even punish him for the attitude - but you’re too focused on stepping into the black harness of the strap-on you got from Jungkook’s nightstand, working out how to tighten the straps and sit it right.

It takes you a moment to get right, but it’s surprisingly comfortable once you get it into place - which probably is the point. Though it’s odd feeling weight extending from your pelvis, the dildo is supported by a leather belt-like strap that runs around your waist. Right on the outer line of each hip, adjacent straps run down, under the curve of your ass and connect to the central one that sits between your legs like panties, albeit narrow and stiffer than fabric.

You’d seen ones with a second dildo facing inwards to go inside the wearer as they fucked someone else, but this didn’t have one, so instead your only stimulation was the slight heat when the leather would drag against your swollen clit. Happy to forgo your own pleasure for the sake of pleasuring Jungkook, you reach in the nightstand drawer again to pull out the lube.

Unlike Hoseok’s travel-sized bottle, the base of the drawer is littered with sample size packets of multiple brands. Mixed in with foil condom packets, you spy oil-based lubes, water-based ones, some scented, self-heating, even one that claims to be strawberry flavoured. Reaching for a basic water-based one, you rip it open and use it to slick up the dildo.

Jungkook watches you raptly, hips wiggling against the bed either in impatience or the effort it takes not to touch himself. Hyper-aware of the appendage that dangles in front of you, and how slippery your hands currently are, you imagine hunkering on the bed without using your hands probably isn’t a very sexy look, so instead you stand to the side of the mattress and instruct him to come to you.

He does so with obvious enthusiasm and anticipation. The earlier haze of his orgasm dissipating, his eyes are alert and his lips are stretched in an unconscious grin. Splayed out on his back, legs dangling on either side of your hips, Jungkook looks so content to hand over his dominance to you that your heart swells slightly at the sentiment of it.

Clearly Jungkook isn’t feeling as soft as you. On the contrary, his cock looks so hard it must be physically hurting him, the tip weeping precum onto his belly as he arches his back to entice you. “Please, Y/n,” he whines, hitching a foot up onto the edge of the mattress to bare himself more fully. “Gukkie needs it.”

Though it’s more your own hesitation rather than any desire to make him beg for it, you can’t deny that the sweet entreating voice is music to your ears and core, and pushing aside all worries you find yourself guiding his opposite leg up with a slippery hand, before lining your synthetic cock against Jungkook’s rim.

Immediately, before you even enter him, he keens, and although you can’t literally feel him rocking back towards it, you watch it catch on the muscle and begin to slip inside, and the resistance can be felt as a pressure against your pelvis where the base of the dildo is fastened.

“De-deeper,” Jungkook makes out with a gasp, his fingers reaching up to clutch at your wrist, and you push past the resistance to drive the dildo inside him, slowly but smoothly. His breath hitches, back lifting off the bed as his body tries to process the intrusion, and instinctively - a word you wouldn’t typically associate with domming - you grip onto his waist to hold him still.

Though your palms and fingers are still slick with lube, you manage to keep them steady on his skin by slightly digging your nails in. Jungkook’s mouth parts in a gulped moan, and you feel the pressure in front of your crotch suddenly increase as he stiffens.

“Green?” you check in quickly, so quick to fear the worst.

Jungkook is even quicker to dispel your worries. “Green, fuck, harder, please,” he babbles, shifting as much as he can under you to spread his legs wider in invitation.

You let out a breath of relief but pair it with a snapped thrust to mask it as exertion. Jungkook lets out a cry of pleasure that sounds more like a hiccup, his body rocking on the bed with the force of it.

It’s hard to tell how intense or rough your thrusts are when all you have is his response and the feeling of the leather base pressing against you to go off, so once you start to fuck him in earnest, you’re sure to pay close attention to him.

Not that you’d otherwise be apathetic by any means. Whether his beautiful reactions are a skill learnt from camming or he began camming because of his reactions, you don’t know, but you think watching him like this could never get old.

His hair’s splayed back on the pale grey duvet like a dark halo, red hot streaks highlighting just how long the strands have gotten. His eyes, when he manages to open them, glitter like constellations and plead like puppy eyes. Though he has the bone definition of a god, gravity works against the strong lines and puffs up his cheeks instead, making him look small and sweet.

With lips so pretty and swollen, he pouts and whines and pleads, teeth poking out to nibble at the pinked flesh when the dildo hits his prostate and he muffles a whine.

It takes a surprisingly little amount of time to find a rhythm. Though you’re certainly inexperienced in the art of fucking someone else, it’s really a very natural motion to make your hips rock up against him. Albeit tiring, you find yourself able to pick up the pace until he’s writhing under your hands, his own nails scratching at the meat of his thighs with the restraint it takes not to touch himself.

Taking mercy on the poor thing, you lift one knee up on the bed to give yourself sufficient momentum to drop one of your hands from pinning him down and wrap it instead around his cock, doing your best to time your strokes together.

Jungkook lets out a low keen and goes stiff, back in a violent arch. “Fu-uck,” he cries, and his face would almost look scrunched up in pain if you didn’t know better, the poor camboy overwhelmed by finally being touched there.

“Does that feel good, Gukkie? Am I fucking you good?”

He nods hastily, bottom lip trembling as your thrusts don’t let up for a second. “Suh-so good to Gukkie,” he confirms in a wobbly voice, “please fuck Gukkie harder!”

Quickly tiring, you don’t know if you even can, but you engage your core like it’s a workout and speed up your hips, the insistent rub of the leather over your pussy lips and clit actually beginning to tighten a coil of pleasure low in your belly.

“Yes,” Jungkook wails when he feels the dildo spearing him quicker and quicker. You use your thumb to press at his slit, dripping precum in obscene amounts as he sobs and bucks between your hand and your fake cock.

Once his thighs start to tremble violently and he can’t seem to take in a full breath, you know he’s close. Steeling yourself for the final lap, you ignore the rub of the leather and the pressure of the dildo base against your pelvis, and focus fully on Jungkook and bringing him to a second powerful orgasm.

“Are you close, baby? I wanna see you cum again,” you request, punctuating it with a squeeze of his cock to make him cry out.

Such a polite boy, he composes himself enough to answer. “Baby’s so close,” he whines. “Gukkie can cum?”

You smile fondly even with gritted teeth from exertion, glad his eyes are scrunched shut with pleasure so he can’t see you melt for him. “Gukkie can cum, baby.”

You make good on your promise for him to feel so good he cries when he reaches that high shortly after receiving permission. Tears spilling over his cheeks, his moan comes out strangled but stuttered and airy at the same time, almost like he’s giggling at the feeling that overcomes him. Barely anything comes out of his cock, already milked from the first orgasm, but his body is wracked with sensation and his lips are stretched in a dopey grin, struggling to catch his breath.

If you were a meaner - or fitter - dom perhaps you’d fuck him past the point of oversensitivity, but as it is, you quite happily come to a stop buried deep inside him, lazily stroking his cock as it softens until he hisses at the contact.

Using the duvet to wipe away the last of the lube and cum off your hands, you lean forward and cup this cheeks to brush the tears away and press a kiss to the button of his nose.

He shivers happily, lashes fluttering, and lets out a hum. “Thank you for taking care of Gukkie,” he whispers, before wincing slightly and correcting- “taking care of me. Sorry, I tend to do that when I’m-”

“You don’t have to explain,” you reply easily, kissing each of his cheeks in turn, tasting the salt of his tears as he giggles again at the tickling feeling. “Did you enjoy it, baby?”

Jungkook lets out a breathless chuckle, chest still heaving. “Fuck, like you wouldn’t believe,” he jibes, throwing a hand over his eyes and heated cheeks when you pull away. “But really; thank you.”

You slip the dildo out of him carefully, hearing him make a low noise in his throat as his hole flutters, empty. Rubbing his thigh comfortingly with one hand - if you knew one thing from being on the show, it was that you needed to shower Jungkook in aftercare now - you unfasten the strap-on carefully with your other. “You don’t have to thank me. I had fun too.”

The crook of his elbow lifts just slightly to expose the glint of his eyes, disbelieving. “You did?”

You beam warmly. “Definitely. You’re so fun to play with, Gukkie,” you praise, “plus, I feel like getting a new perspective has been really enlightening, you know?”

“Ah,” he muses, “entertaining and educational. I’m glad my ass served you well.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of your throat; the quip a clear sign that Jungkook is returning from that hazy, contented plane of subspace you’ve grown used to. “Better put that on your CV.”

Jungkook sits up, affronted. Two fat drops of cum run down his stomach, quickly drying out once they spread over his skin. “My ass has been listed on my CV as a skill for years, Y/n, I’m not an amateur.”

“Oh, a professional ass man,” you tease, sighing at the release of pressure once the strap-on harness falls off your hips and to the ground, leaving your lower half bare. “Is that why you got on the show, huh?”

The camboy pouts. “I got on for many reasons,” he insists, “I’m very qualified, you know.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you return immediately, and pause. “Fuck. We were meant to be bantering but I’ve just been complimenting you, haven’t I?”

He nods like it was intentional. “Yet another one of my skills.”

“You’re impossible,” you sigh, but even when he convinces you to join him in the shower, the conversation between you flows without a hitch, and your fondness for the boy only grows.

In retrospect, you probably could’ve worked out Namjoon’s prompt based on how he treats you that dinner.

Subtlety isn’t his strong suit, but you’re so hungry from earlier that you barely notice the signs. It’s not uncommon for the guys to pile food on your plate, but Namjoon’s repeated insistence of feeding you directly perhaps should’ve been the first flag.

The way he fills your glass of water for you, ruffles your hair, continuously calls you little… Yeah, you blame Yoongi’s delicious fish cutlet and rice meal for not paying enough attention.

Luckily for you - or perhaps for him - an opening appears when you’re cleaning up the table with Taehyung and accidentally fumble a small dish of dipping sauce all over your hands and front.

Immediately, Namjoon as at your side, taking the ceramics out of your hand and tsking gently. “Oh, love, that’s no good,” he coos in a low timbre, “you’ve gotten yourself all dirty.”

You could just offer to go rinse your hands off in the sink and change shirts, but you’re wired up from fucking Jungkook without your own release - the camboy was so chipper at dinner that everyone had surely cottoned on - and so a better idea comes to mind. “It’s running down my sleeve,” you offer with a faux pout, “I’ll probably need a shower to get it all off. Care to join me?”

Namjoon’s brows lift as he surreptitiously ensures no one else is in earshot. With a hand on the small of your back, he leans in and presses his lips against your ear. “How about Daddy gives you a bath, baby girl?”

You suck in a breath, nerves alighting. Oh. You can work with this. Straightening up, you latch onto his shirt sleeve near the cuff and soften your eyes. “Only if you take one with me,” you bargain, “I’m only little, Daddy.”

He pulls back quickly, and were it not for the hot flares of lust in his eyes, it would almost seem like he’d been shocked. “Go to your bedroom then, love,” he instructs, “and no running on the stairs.”

Of course you aren’t really an impulsive child but, as it is, his command is actually difficult to follow. The urge to clamber up them as fast as you can, knowing you’re finally going to get fucked good, is hard to suppress.

You manage, however, and soon enough Namjoon’s in the bathroom with you, filling the tub. As you wait, toes wiggling against the cool tile in excitement, he unbuttons his cuff and rolls up the sleeve.

“Okay, clothes off, kitten,” he instructs, hunkering over the edge of the tub to dip a hand in up to the forearm, checking the temperature and stirring up the water, “it’s just about ready.”

You obey, tossing your clothes in a growing pile in the corner. Though it’s no bubble bath, he has drizzled some body wash in to give it a comforting scent, floral and sleepy like ylang ylang. When he pulls his arm out, there’s a ring of suds, and spots of water have already gotten onto his shirt. “You’ve gotta hop in too, Daddy,” you point out, smirking when Namjoon visibly falters at the title.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he confirms, shucking off his shirt and pants, “get in first, kitten, it’s all ready.”

The water is divine, a blooming heat that seeps down to your bones, warming you to the core. You immediately see your skin start to pinken, but the water isn’t unbearably hot, and it’s a pleasant flush.

The heat below contrasts with the cool air on your upper back and shoulders, causing you to shiver, but before you can complain you feel the water level rise, Namjoon’s arms wrapping around you from behind.

As you let him lean you back against his chest, you feel his hardness, but neither of you feel the need to comment on it. This is a porn show, and you’re going to fuck soon, sure, but for now there’s nothing better than a hot bath.

“Give me your hand, let’s clean this sticky sauce up, huh?” It isn’t until Namjoon begins to soap up a loofah and delicately scrub away at the black trails of dipping sauce that have run down your arms that you realise just how fantastic this prompt is. If you played your cards right, Namjoon would take care of you and pamper you all evening, fuck you silly, and then presumably put you to bed like a good Daddy. Holding your hands out obediently, you’re quite content to oblige.

“Sit up, kitten,” the academic commands softly with a press to your shoulder. Once the skin of your arms is unmarred again, Namjoon dips the loofah in the chest-level water, pulls it out dripping suds and water, and laves it over your back, making you sigh at the warmth. “Feels nice, hm?”

Your lips stretch in a lazy smile as you recall asking that very question yourself just earlier today. As much as you had fun domming Jungkook, and wouldn’t be averse to switching things up - quite literally - again, there’s no denying that your soul really sings when you’re the one being taken care of, played with, and pleasured. “Really nice, Daddy.”

The loofah gets dipped again, this time sliding over your chest and stomach. Letting your eyes slip shut at the relaxing treatment, Namjoon’s low timbre washes over you just like the aromatic suds of body wash. “I’m glad,” he coos, “I like taking care of you. You’re too little to do it all yourself, aren’t you? Need Daddy’s help?”

“Too little,” you parrot sleepily, “need Daddy.” With every word, with every touch of his large hands on you, you truly begin to feel little. Curling your toes against the base of the tub, you make a low noise in your throat and lean back against his chest again, head lolling back over his shoulder. “Will you give me a kiss, Daddy?”

He smiles at your entreating plea and wide eyes, eyes like crescent moons as he dips his head and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “All better now?” he checks as he sits the sopping loofah on the side of the bath.

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I’m not all clean yet, Daddy.”

“You aren’t?” he asks with mock surprise, dimple deepening and brows lifting. “Well, that’s no good, is my kitten still dirty somewhere?”

With a single decisive nod, you grab his hand and lead it down until the tips of his fingers brush your folds. “Daddy didn’t clean here, ‘s still dirty.”

You let out a blissful sigh when he cups you, middle finger curling up to barely dip inside you. Namjoon grins. “In here?” Rather than wait for your answer, he smoothly pushes it deeper, massaging at your inner walls. “Alright, kitten, just close your eyes and let Daddy finish cleaning you up.”

A smile graces your lips as your eyes flutter shut again, head comfy in the crook of his neck and shoulder. You could get used to this.

He doesn’t tease you, but nor does he fingerfuck you with intensity or vigor. It’s methodical and diligent, like he really is cleaning you out. One finger quickly becomes two, and his other arm winds around your waist on the other side to roll your sensitive clit, making you moan softly.

Raring to go from unfulfilled pleasure that morning, your nerves go into overdrive, a building wave growing quickly in your belly. When Namjoon adds a third finger, crooking them inside you thoroughly to stroke your g-spot, it takes less than a minute for you to fall apart, thighs clenching tight around his hands.

He works you through it, only stopping when you whimper from oversensitivity, but that doesn’t stop you from whimpering unhappily again when he pulls his fingers out and you’re left empty.

“You’re all clean now, kitten,” Namjoon states, running his palms over your inner thighs to relax them. “Time to get out.”

You sit up suddenly with a pout. “But Daddy!”

Narrowing his brows, you don’t miss the slight twitch of Namjoon’s lips at your sudden outburst. “No buts,” he reproaches, “I don’t want you pruning up.”

You huff, scowling when he deftly tugs out the plug and the water level steadily sinks. “You haven’t even fucked me yet, Da-mmf!”

Namjoon sends you a cutting glare, his strong hand cupped over your mouth. “I should wash your mouth out with soap for using that language, little one,” he warns, “now out of the bath.”

You whine behind his hand, but once he drops it you obey and scramble out of the quickly-draining tub. Your body feels heavier without the buoyancy of water, and you’re dripping onto the bathmat like a drowned rat, but Namjoon pays it no mind, getting out himself with powerful thighs and a heavy cock dangling between them, passing you a towel wordlessly.

You dry yourself off, pout never leaving your face. He’s really just gonna stay hard like that and not fuck you? “Daddy…”

“One more protest and I’m taking you over my knee,” Namjoon says with a sharp tone. “I thought my kitten was better behaved than this.”

You open and close your mouth, unsure how you can get what you want without using vulgar words. Then again, perhaps making him punish you would rile him up enough to fuck you, and you certainly weren’t against some spanking. Sucking a breath in to establish some resolve, you stomp your foot on the bathmat. “You’re so mean, Daddy!”

Namjoon gapes at you, the way you’re bundled in a towel from your chin to your knees, scowling at him. “You want it, don’t you?” he mutters quietly, receiving a small nod in return. Relaxing for a moment, he slips easily back into that position of authority. “That’s it,” he spits, taking you firmly by the wrist and leading you - still naked himself - into your bedroom, “I gave you plenty of warnings but you still won’t listen.”

You squeak as he rips the towel from you and tugs you onto his lap on the edge of the bed. Adjusting you so that your crotch is right above his aching erection, his legs are so long that your toes barely brush on the carpet, all your balance resting on him. This had been the roughest he’d ever been with you, or at least the most domineering, and your mind whirls with how much he’s coming into his element with this prompt.

He gives you no warning before he’s laying his hands on your ass, small pats to warm up the skin before a sudden, stinging strike laces your nerves. You cry out, wriggling in his grip, but he uses one broad hand to link your wrists together in the small of your back, your face pressed onto the mattress as you’re held up fully by him.

He’s carefully merciless, spanking you hard enough that it burns, tears pricking your eyes and lip swollen from when you bite it, but whenever your cries of pain and pleasure turn too much to genuine discomfort, you notice he gives you an extra second of reprieve and swaps out to lighter hits.

“Apologise to Daddy,” he commands gruffly as you sob beneath him, swatting you without pause.

You sniff and swallow before you can compose yourself enough to reply in a wobbly cry, knees buckling and trembling. “Suh-sorry, Daddy, I’m so sorry, I learnt my lesson, ple-ease!”

You could cry when you feel his hand land on you one last time, soft and soothing the stinging flesh. Namjoon shifts, and then you feel light kisses being pressed all the way from your reddened ass up your spine, making you shiver. “Thank you, kitten,” he murmurs in your ear, and gently sits you up, lying you on the mattress.

You hiss when you feel the fabric scratch at your skin, but it’s cool and soothing if you stay still, so you take deep breaths and feel your heart slowly return to normal, Namjoon running his fingers over your now-dry body.

Blinking up at him with what you hope are sweet puppy-dog eyes, you call his name softly to bring his attention to your face. “Are you really not gonna, you know…?”

He grins fondly at your attempt to evade the word fuck, silver hair flopping over his brow as he leans over you. “You took your punishment so well kitten, I think you deserve a reward, hm? Some special time with Daddy?”

You light up, sucking on your lower lip as you spread your legs to bare yourself shamelessly, hooking one foot around his waist so he’s between them. “Extra special time with Daddy,” you insist in a small voice, lip curling now that you’re finally going to get what you want.

With a light laugh, Namjoon centres himself so that he’s facing you head-on, your legs comfortably resting aside his hips. Stroking himself a few times, he taps his hard length against your already-swollen pussy lips. “Relax for me, kitten,” he guides, and you keen as you feel him begin to push inside you.

You try to stop yourself from clenching around him, but it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and as usual the biggest cock in the house takes getting used to. “So big, Daddy,” you breathe with a groan, brows pinched together at the stretch.

“You can take it, kitten, you’re doing so well for me,” Namjoon promises, holding you steady and open with a hand hooking your knee up high by his chest.

By the time he’s bottomed out, hips flush against your still-stinging ass, you feel so deliciously full that you can’t breathe. You lay back, eyes scrunched, and focus entirely on the feeling of his girth stretching you open.

“Feels good?” Namjoon checks in, and you nod, wriggling your hips against him to indicate he can move. “Hold on tight, then.”

Even though it’s barely been a day since you were last fucked, it feels like so much longer, and having Namjoon fill you up over and over is so satisfying on a deep level, that you don’t bother muffling your moans, letting yourself clutch at his arms and enjoy the ride.

While Namjoon certainly isn’t the most lithe or experienced member, his cock is a force of nature in and of itself, and this time, with the heat of desperation and the excitement of your altered dynamic getting to him, he fucks you without holding back.

If he’s like this on his third time, you think, he’ll be a beast before the show ends, but then the head of his cock strikes right against your g-spot, and the thought shatters as a cry is ripped from your throat.

“Oh! Daddy, yes, right there!”

He obliges you by adjusting his hips so that every stroke rubs against you just right, and your mind melts, colours and sounds and sensation blurring together in one full note of all-encompassing pleasure.

You cum without warning, not expecting it yourself, and Namjoon curses lowly in his throat as you clench around him. The orgasm is powerful enough to leave you shuddering hopelessly on the bed before going fully slack, drained.

Warm, fuzzy tingles settle in your fingers and toes and chest in the aftermath as Namjoon fucks you through it, not taking long himself to spill inside you. He drops your leg to the side and leans in, pressing slightly ticklish kisses to your neck and collarbone, hands on either side of your chest to keep his weight off you.

“So good to me,” he breathes out lowly, nuzzling your chin up to give him a better angle to sweetly kiss you on the lips, languid and unhurried as he slowly comes down from his own high.

This time when he pulls out of you and you’re left empty again, you don’t complain, too thoroughly fucked to do anything but let out a contented sigh. Namjoon cleans you up, apologising when oversensitivity makes you twitch at the slightest contact, and then washes up himself.

Just as you feel your mind lifting out of that mental space of feeling little, sitting up a bit on his bed and trying to work out if you’d be able to make it to your dresser to put on some pyjamas, Namjoon returns and does it for you, helping you slip into a baggy t-shirt that you like to use as a nightie.

“Are you going to stay?” you ask softly as he lowers the hem over your head, arms slotting through the holes.

“Do you want me to?” Namjoon counters with an edge of hesitation, scratching lightly at his opposite arm, still naked.

You nod, patting the bed beside you. “If you don’t mind.”

Namjoon gathers his clothes and slips them on, not really appropriate for sleeping. Once he sees your look of confusion, he tilts his head towards your bedroom door. “I’m just going to duck out for some comfier clothes for sleeping, are you going to be alright for a moment?”

By the time he’s come back, you’ve already quickly brushed your teeth - hobbling to and from your bathroom like a newborn deer - and slipped under the covers, getting comfortable. Namjoon returns in grey striped pyjama pants and a white shirt, but he has something in his hands.

“You might think it’s silly,” he offers by way of explanation, the mattress springs squeaking as he gets on beside you, “but I like reading before bed, and I thought maybe you’d find it calming.”

With a dubious smile, you look at the book in his hands. It has the clean edges of a cared-for book, with the creases in the spine of a well-read one. On the cover, golden embossed stars and swooping font read The Little Prince. “You want me to read it?”

Namjoon returns your smile, warm and dimpled. “I want to read to you.”

The two of you cuddle together without words, one of his arms wrapped around your back as you lean on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Propping the small novel up on his stomach, he peers over your head to read.

“Once when I was six years old,” he begins, “I saw a magnificent picture in a book called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing.” He pauses, tapping you twice on the crown of your head to indicate you should look. “In the book it said…”

As he recites the novel aloud, you feel more than hear his voice, a low rumble in your ear like a rushing river or a slow-moving thunderstorm. It’s soothing, lulling you into sleep. His voice wraps around every word like a hug, enunciating each syllable with such care and colour and love, and always pausing when there were photos, even when your eyes slip shut and you begin to drift off.

Slowly, everything fades away. All sound is reduced to that regular heartbeat and warm rumble; all sensations are narrowed down to just the heat of his skin where it meets yours, his fingers lazily swirling patterns on your scalp. All thoughts simplify, the last six words in your brain, I could get used to this, before they wink out to nothing at all, and you sleep.

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jojoboisimagines · 3 years

Text

Snippets Ch.4 : Johnny and Josuke (4) with the Same Crush (3)

Previous Chapter

A set of multiple drabbles/oneshots combining characters (i.e Jojos) from multiple parts and AUs.

.::.

"That guy...do you think--" Josuke started.

"That's their boyfriend? No idea." Johnny quickly answered, trying to play it off as if he didn't care.

It was quite the opposite. He may have cared too much.

To say Johnny was jealous was an understatement. But it seemed like Josuke was feeling some of the heat too, seeing you hanging out with some guy and proceeding to talk about him with Josuke when the two of you went to lunch the other day.

Josuke was still in the dark about Johnny’s own crush on you, which was a relief for the jockey, but it was hell for him, having to be afraid of either guy winning you over first.

He just needed to muster up the courage to talk to you again, but it was a lot more difficult than he thought it’d be. You two always seemed to be busy when the other wasn’t. Of course he still had Gyro (and occasionally Josuke and Hot Pants) to keep him company, but he missed you.

The little spat the cousins had was forgotten for a while. They didn’t exactly apologize to each other, but just starting to talk normally again was enough sign there was no hard feelings. The younger teen was still very confused about Johnny’s intentions that day.

‘ Was he trying to be a good role model or was he just mad I was leaving him at home?’ he thought. It didn’t really matter to him anymore, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned about what Johnny must’ve been thinking, and if he still did feel that way.

They sat at a small table on the far side of the kitchen. Josuke, looking rather bored, held his head on his palm, while Johnny was playing on their shared Switch. Or at least, was pretending to be after Josuke brought up the subject.

“Hey, can I ask you an honest question?” The Japanese teen breaks the icy silence once again.

Johnny merely raises an eyebrow with a low ‘hm’ that was barely audible. His heart silently raced thinking of what the boy sitting across from him had on his mind to ask.

“(y/n)...how long have you known them?”

A simple enough question to start off with, Josuke thought. Yet Johnny’s lips still pursed.

“Uh...about half a year now. We got really close in that time I’d say.” That last part wasn’t even to get a rise out of Josuke, he just genuinely thought so. He really cared about you, romantically or not.

Meanwhile, Josuke had only known you for the duration of the summer, which was about to end in a couple of weeks. Perhaps if he’d beg Johnny to let him stay he’d have more time to bond with you, but there was also the issue of him feeling homesick from time to time.

God, if he could take you back to Morioh with him..it’d be like a dream come true.

They both had quickly forgotten about whatever guy Josuke was referring to earlier, mixed up in their own thoughts about their relationship with you. Besides, he had only ever seen the guy once, there was no way you’d switch up on him that quickly.

He had no dates or anything planned with you like he usually does, though. Not that he didn’t want to spend time with you, he just felt as if he was coming off as a little...clingy.

Higashikata had been trying to drop hints that he liked you, such as buying you things, having heart-to-heart conversations as he’d walk you home, calling you pet names, and ending his goodnight texts with a little heart emoji. He considered himself a romantic, but when it came to your reactions, you kinda brushed them off platonically. Perhaps you’d never been flirted with before?

His texts were still frequent, making sure you were having a good day and all, but he figured maybe he should start being a little more risky..

“What do you like about (y/n) anyways?” Johnny asked.

There was a pause for a couple of seconds, before Josuke scooted back in his chair and got up from the table, intending to retreat to his room for a couple of hours.

“The same things you do, probably.”

.::.

“Ow! Gyro, what the hell was that for?!”

“Because, idiota, you need to confess already.” He hovers over Johnny like a judgmental parent.

Josuke had left the house to get some groceries, and in that time, the jockey called Gyro over. Not for advice specifically, but that's what it had eventually turned into. Sitting on the floor of Johnny’s room (where it was painfully easy to find porn magazines, Gyro won’t let that go as long as the two of them live).

“Like seriously, this is getting embarrassing to watch, just do it already.” The Italian pointed a finger at his friend. “Sooner or later you’re gonna do the thing where you get the girl drunk and then sleep with her regardless of feelings.”

“Ugh, I’m not like that anymore Gyro!” Johnny folds his arms with a pout his friend knows all too well at this point. “I’ve never committed to anyone before, so of course this is a little more awkward for me than it is for anyone else, you know this!”

Indeed he did know. It was somehow one of the things they always ended up talking about.

“Listen, I know how this is gonna end. Its gonna end with you in this same room, bunched up in several blankets, listening to Fleetwood Mac on repeat with 3 pizza boxes to make yourself feel better.”

The American scoffs.

Gyro sits upright on his bed. “I’m right. Look, this gal means a lot to you, I know. I’ve seen it. You’ve never stared at someone with such a…not hateful look in your eye.” It was half a joke, half truth. “And I don't wanna see you sad, so you’re just gonna have to pull yourself up, grow some steel balls, and ask them out. For real. For both of our sakes at this point.”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Wow, Gyro wants me to be with a girl? Pigs must be flying.”

“You are so not funny.” The Italian’s teeth flashes for a moment as he scowls.

“Alright, since you’re such a casanova, why don’t you tell me what to say to them?” At this rate, there was really no other choice for Joestar to take. He could ask Hot Pants, but knew she would give him similar advice.

“Nyo-ho! I’ll show ya! All you gotta do is gimme your phone.”

As soon as the word ‘gimme’ was uttered, the jockey clutched his phone as if it was a baby. The last few times he lended his friend his phone, it didn’t go so well.

Gyro would’ve snorted if he wasn’t serious about this.

“Come onnn! It--”

“Won’t go like the last three times, right? Fat chance.”

“Just hurry and hand it over before I tackle you!”

The larger man did that far too much already, much to Johnny’s dismay. Once Gyro had him in a headlock, there was no getting out of it. He defeatedly raised his phone up to the man for him to take.

“If you ruin anything, I’m doing the same thing to you, AND taking your damn horse.” The Italian waved him off as if he was merely an angry toddler. As he typed, Johnny tried to peer over and see, but his friend was too adamant on turning side to side so he couldn’t. The expressions Gyro was making wasn’t a good sign either. First confused, then mischievous, then looking a little too proud of himself. The jockey’s hands could start sweating at any moment from the sheer anxiety this was giving him.

“Aaaaaand done! There we go, all set!”

Johnny reached for his phone as soon as the words left his mouth, unapologetically in a snatching manner to immediately read the text sent.

::‘Hey This is Johnny darling. Hope your day has been as beautiful as your smile. I was wondering if you’re free tomorrow by 12pm. I have something very important to tell you. See you soon xoxo.’::

Alright, so it wasn’t as bad as he thought itd be (not nearly as bad as the time Gyro dared him to send a ‘send nudes’ text to you) but god, it would look suspiciously out of character for you to see. He can’t even remember the last time he typed ‘darling’ instead of ‘darlin’ and actually bothered to punctuate his texts. And who even used ‘xoxo’ anymore?

His friend looked at him with a big grin, waiting for his reaction. A slightly more pure smile than if he were waiting for Johnny to get a joke.

“Soooo what do you think? You gotta pick some nice clothes out for your date.”

The shorter man sighs.

“Its...passable.”

.::.

Josuke got home a little later than he expected. He was surprised to see there was still Prince CDs in stock at the store. Thats one of the perks of coming to America, he guessed. He was more than ready to put them into one of Johnny’s old CD players he had found. It was already hard for him to listen to pretty much anything without thinking of you. At least if it was Prince specifically, it would help him feel better and he could jam out to it.

Finally finding the track he wanted, he grinned, letting the music play out loud and hopping on his bed. It was a good few minutes before he had started getting that feeling in his gut again.

..Crap, this wasn’t helping either.

The teen felt that he couldn’t endure this much longer. Love was something he took very seriously and to be so unsure about your relationship just made him feel funny. He had to at least know for sure if the both of you were on the same page. Josuke was sick of being so anxious about it.

Josuke laid down flat on his back, pulling his phone out.

“You know what? I’m gonna ask them out.”

#jojo #jjba #jjba x reader #Josuke Higashikata #josuke x reader #josuke higashikata x reader #Johnny Joestar #johnny joestar x reader #jojo x reader

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years

Text

Unhealthy Obsession

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - Violence, yandere undertones, stalking, gore (this seems to be a running theme in my works huh). The reader is scawwy ><

Other Comments - I’ve seen so many of these types of fic but it was always Childe being yandere, so why not yandere reader??? I put this in a time line slightly more recently so there is actual like technology like phones and stuff in this. Oh and the reader had a bow for a weapon in this hehe.

Childe was infamous for his charm, having the ability to have the entirety of Liyue under his thumb if he so pleased. Of course, he was able to use this to his advantage when collecting debts and manipulating the people he needed to. Childe’s newest person of interest was the daughter of a shop owner who was indebted to the Fatui.

You had also found yourself enthralled by Childe’s charm, but unlike the many others he used it on he had actually considered you a genuine friend. One close enough to him for him to reveal his hidden agendas and dirty work plans. Now of course you unfortunately found yourself with the semblance of a crush on the copper haired man; which at first wasn’t the worst until you began witnessing the actions of the girl.

Much to Childe’s ignorance, you had been watching his movements for a while now, which also means watching the touchy feely actions of the girl. She loved to give him hugs was they took their separate ways, or would lean on him any chance she got really. It was starting to piss you off but you also found it quite humorous. This girl was so stupid, thinking Childe was actually interested in her; of course you couldn’t really blame her since Childe was so good at his job.

Things were beginning to get out of hand though, as now not only did you feel the need to keep some tabs on Childe’s antics; you know had to keep track of the girls actions. And tonight was an eventful one to say the least. After quietly watching Childe from the shadows for quite some time, you could say you were quite skilled in stealth so it was incredibly easy to follow around the girl without looking suspicious, as you watched her walking along the shops of Liyue Harbor.

Tonight you could see her heading towards the Scent of Spring perfume shop, so you decided to follow a little ways behind and then find yourself a good spot within earshot. You decided to lean against a wall and look to be occupying yourself on your phone so as to not look odd.

“Well hello, you're looking rather fetching today. Care to take a look inside Scent of Spring? I'm sure you'll find something unforgettable~!” Ying’er was a lovely woman, as well as being incredibly skilled in the art of creating perfumes.

“Ah hello! Uh I was looking for something that could get a guy to fall for me?” The girl spoke hurriedly, almost as if she was embarrassed for making such a request. You grit your teeth, silently groaning, as Ying’er giggled before responding.

“Oh young love, how cute! Of course you look to be the lady who would enjoy Valley Weaver? Or maybe Golden House Maiden if you’re looking for something a bit sweeter and more candy like? Would you care for a sampling?” The girl nodded enthusiastically and Ying’er brought out the two previously mentioned scents, handing both over to the girl.

“They both smell so amazing! But I think Valley Weaver is a little bit more endearing.” Ying’er hummed in response as she stored away the other perfume. While she was doing this the young girl brought out a small bag of mora. You rolled your eyes shaking your head. Your phone quickly took you out of the interaction as it buzzed in your hand. Your mood immediately brightened as you saw you had received a text from the one and only Childe.

“Hey babe! Where are you? I let myself into your apartment, hope you don’t mind too much :)” You giggled to yourself before rolling your eyes and shooting back a text.

“Of course you did. Well I just went on a little walk around Liyue, I’m heading back now; of course make yourself at home but I’m sure you already have.” You shook your head, still smiling to yourself. You had to say, this was great timing as it gave you an excuse to leave. Leaving the same time as the girl would’ve been far too suspicious so this was convenient.

You made sure to take all of the shortcuts to your apartment and tried your best to walk as briskly as possible. You didn’t want to keep the man you were doing all of this for in the first place waiting after all.You didn’t even have to announce your arrival since the loud squeak of your door did it for you, allowing Childe’s familiar cologne to fill your nose.

“Hey babe! How was your walk? It’s awfully late for a walk isn’t it?” You smiled, as Childe’s comforting voice filled the room, the only other noise being the muddled voices leaving your old tv in the living room.

“Well it was a nice night out tonight, plus I enjoy looking at the shops; they always have such nice stuff.” You quickly took your place next to Childe on the couch, not too close to consider it borderline cuddling but close enough to feel his warmth. Childe placed his arm behind you, almost allowing it to fall onto your shoulders.

“That being said, you have yet to reveal to me what the motive is behind gracing me with your presence, unannounced might I add.” You heard Childe chuckle next to you, as you found yourself absentmindedly watching whatever the hell he had playing on the TV.

“Well, I’ve been pretty busy for the time being, and I guess I found myself missing your company.” You screamed mentally, the butterflies in your stomach dancing around excitedly.

“You have been quite busy, unfortunately for you though, the same cannot be said.” Childe let out a boisterous laugh, playfully nudging you with his side. You giggled as well, shaking your head before looking up at the taller man. Both of you stared at each other for what felt like ages, before you felt Childe’s arm wrap itself around your side pulling you closer to him. Suddenly your lips were pressed against his, as he pressed you against him. You allowed yourself to tangle your fingers into his copper hair.

This sparked a make out, bordering on heavy petting as both of you were pressed as close together as humanly possible. Childe’s hands had found themselves comfortably resting against your ass, as he would occasionally squeeze. All too soon though, he pulled away; a shit eating grin plastered onto his face. You blushed bright red before lightly smacking him in the chest with the back of your hand. You watched him snicker before pulling out his phone and looking at the time.

“Well it’s getting really late, and as much as I would like to stay here and keep you up, I should probably head out.” Childe ended his statement with a wink causing you to become an even more flustered mess. He was the first to get up, help you up as well before pulling you into his chest. Neither of you usually participated in hugging as a farewell, but it’s not as if you were complaining about being pressed against his firm chest.

With at, Childe was gone; casing your apartment to feel far too empty. Though, this gave you the opportunity to excitedly jump around and quietly scream as you relived the actions that had just transpired between the two of you. He was right though, it was incredibly late and you had just now realized how tired you were. At least this would send you off with some interesting dreams.

And here you were again, in the familiar situation of carefully watching this annoying girl. You had overheard her on the phone with presumably no one other than Childe. She had asked him to meet her around the pound by the shops in Liyue tonight, which after hanging up she excitedly clapped for; confirming that Childe had said yes. You knew it was going to be too risky to go there in your normal attire, as you couldn’t be recognized by Childe under any circumstance so you decided you would go home and get changed.

You felt like a genius for changing into black clothes, as you had found yourself a pitch black alleyway to hide in that gave you a clear shot of what was happening. Sure you couldn’t hear what they were saying but that was the least of your worries for the time being. You watched as the girl flaunted herself and flipped her hair around, clearly trying to get her money's worth out of that perfume she had bought the night before. It all made you feel sick. She was nowhere near Childe’s league.

For the most part, everything was fine; just them having a boring conversation until the girl did something unexpected. She reached for Childe’s arm, and pulled him down into a kiss. You had never been so enraged before, seeing red and acting without thought. Before you could think twice you bow was drawn and pointed directly at her.

It all happened in a flash, an arrow flying out of nowhere, the puncture into the girls head, her falling back as Childe stumbled back as well, all of the guards rushing towards them. Childe’s eyes were blown out wide looking around wildly for the source of the arrow. Right as you were beginning to turn back your eyes met his. Fuck.

You began sprinting back to your apartment, hopefully if he came by your apartment you could be changed into something different so you could try and persuade him into thinking he saw someone else. And thank the gods time was on your side; you had managed to finish getting dressed into your sleepwear right as you hear a knock on your door. Your heart was racing but you knew if you took too much time answering the door, it would be even more suspicious so you needed to act as normal as you could manage. You cracked the door open like usual and were greeted by a familiar face.

“Oh my god (y/n) you will never guess what just happened.” You stepped aside as you opened the door for Childe.

“What happened?” You tried your best to not sound very interested hoping that would throw him off.

“So you remember that girl I had been telling you about? The daughter of that one shop owner?” You nodded in confirmation as you headed to your small kitchen to put on some tea for the both of you. Childe stood on the other side of the counter.

“Well she had called me earlier today and asked if I could meet with her tonight. Of course I accepted and we were in the middle of a conversation when she had pulled me down to kiss her! That's not even the worst part though, she was shot immediately after!” You feigned surprise as you gasped looking up at him.

“Oh my god what?! That’s awful! I imagine the pond was quite a mess with all the guards?” You hadn’t even realized what came out of your mouth until he began to speak again.

“Huh… That's strange, I never told you where it happened.” Your eyes widened as you quickly looked back down to the teapot that was now whistling at you.

“You know what else is strange? I think the arrow looked really familiar; and that’s not even the weirdest part. I could’ve sworn I saw someone who looked identical to you who was in the same place the arrow came from. Your blood ran cold. He knew and there was no way you could persuade him otherwise.

“You know I don’t like when people lie to me (y/n) so I am only going to ask this once. Were you the one that fired the arrow?” You had just finished pouring the water over the tea leaves when he asked you. Your clenched fists were now resting next to the two cups, as you struggled to hold back the tidal wave of anguish. But in the end you couldn’t.

“She fucking kissed you! How could I sit there and do nothing about it! I have been putting up with her touchy feely bullshit for weeks now! I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing as she kissed what was supposed to be MINE!!!” You were breathing heavily, your face red and chest tight. Childe was silent and you refused to look up to meet his gaze. After what felt like hours, you heard his heavy footsteps move towards you. You screwed your eyes shut too scared of what his reaction was going to be. Only when he gently put his hand under your chin and tilted your head up did you open your eyes.

“I am yours (y/n). You didn’t even give me the chance to push her away. You’re a really good shot though.” Your eyes were blown out wide as he smiled down at you.

“You’re not… Disgusted with me? Or enraged?” Childe chuckled.

“(Y/n) I’ve done much worse things than this, it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at you. But if that situation ever happens again, at least give me some time to push them away before taking it into your hands alright? I might admit I do find it endearing that you would kill someone for me; but let me be the one to have blood on my hands alright?” You smiled and nodded before he pulled you into a hug.

“Now, shall we have that tea?”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagine #genshin childe #childe #genshin impact childe #childe imagine #childe x reader #genshin tartaglia #genshin impact tartaglia #tartaglia imagine #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia

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embretheworld · 3 years

Text

I was bored so here’s some hc’s

I have a lot surprisingly so a lot of these are coming off the top of my head

-Laxus does not have good eyesight in the eye with a scar because that's where the lacrima was implanted. But he can still see out of it, it just gets blurry sometimes.

-If you had a lacrima implanted in you, there's gonna be a scar where it was implanted, and depending on what type of magic it is determine's the shape.

-Laxus's mother was born without magic and had the same thing happen to her but she was 16 when she had it implanted in her hand, she also had asked to have one and Laxus didn't.

-Laxus was born without magic thanks to his mother being born without magic too.

-When you get a lacrima implanted in you, depending on what type and how strong it is, depends on how sick you get. It's a counterbalance so people won't always get lacrima's implanted in them. The day it was implanted you get very sick as the body's reaction to an overwhelming influx of magic in your system, it happens every year in the same day it was implanted but the first time is the worst.

-"This is what I get for being emotionally slutty," Loke probably looking back on some kind of event.

-Loke with freckles!

-Loke sleeps when he's bored.

-Lucy suffers the worst writer's block ever and can't seem to ever get out of it no matter how hard she tries(I feel you girl).

-Plue really likes candy.

-Happy got Lucy a little frame that said "Life is better with cats" for her Birthday and despite how much Happy annoys her sometimes she keeps it on the desk she writes on and treasures it dearly.

-Do not let Erza play whack a mole or the games where you have to throw balls at clowns or vases you have to knock down to win a prize.

-Or let the dragon slayers play any driving game in general.

-Horror movies do not scare Aries, a lot of things do, but not horror movies.

-Mira really likes candles, but always gets them when they're on sale.

- Gray once got banned from a strip club after being mistaken for one of the strippers.

-Juvia could literally kill someone if she wanted to since our bodies are made of 60% of water but has no idea. She desires to learn more about blood magic if she so desires but hasn't.

-Levy wants to study rune magic but procrastination is her worst enemy, also people trying to attack the guild interrupting her every time she tries to cracks open a book to try and learn it. She's stopped trying to learn it in fear that if she tries someone will start attacking the guild again.

-Gajeel & Juvia and Gray & Loke are very underrated friendships that need more attention.

-Natsu chugged hot sauce and didn't even flinch. (A friend of mine did that and they scare me.)

-Lucy carries around a box of matches just in case Natsu wants a snack whenever they go on missions.( which is a lot of the time, a lot of her money has went into buying matches, she's had to go to plenty different stores to buy some because she's scared the clerk will think she's up to something and explaining it will only make her seem more suspicious.)

-Technically demon slayers are just exorcists but with more violence.

-In a human au Gray was an exorcist once.

But in normal Fairy Tail he takes side jobs on getting rid of demons from ordinary houses or other places which pays a lot.

-The wool Aries can make, can make really nice jackets. She's made jackets using it, but Loke stole it cause he likes comfy things in general.

-Loke actually needs his glasses, his glasses double as both sunglasses and normal glasses(someone I know someone who has the same type of glasses, I also wear glasses so.) due to being in Earthland too long, certain things started deteriorating like important sense's thankfully it wasn't on a major scale but on a longer one but it can't be fixed.

-Due to his eyesight deteriorating he has better hearing.

-Loke and Evergreen are nearsighted, Levy is farsighted.

-Ivan named Laxus because Laxus looked so much like his mother it only seemed fair.

-Laxus has an aunt who's his mom's sister. He talks to her through letters because she lives across the sea.

-"My little dragon," was a nickname that Laxus's mom gave him after he had gotten the dragon lacrima implanted in him against her wishes since if they were to do it, she wanted to do it when he was 16 like her but Ivan thought 8 was a much more appropriate age. (It was not). The only one who knows of this nickname for him is Makarov, his mom, his aunt, and his dad.

-His dad once used the name in a fight against him and he wanted to punch him so bad.

-If Mira were to swear she'd put sailors to shame.

-Erza has horrible road rage.

-I refuse to believe that Loke has two sets of ears, he does not have human ears and lion(cat ears?) ears at the same time just lion ears while in his celestial form and humans ones in his human form. He wears the piercing he used to wear on his human ears on his cat ears when in said celestial form, or outfit or whatever.

-The car ears(I'm calling them that now) are actual ears, you'd be surprised how many people try to pull on them in thinking that they aren't only to be pleasantly surprised that they in fact are. He likes to be pet behind them whenever they are there and he doesn't have regular human ears.

-He also despises chokers/collars with the very soul of his being. He might hiss at you if you bring one even close to him that's how much he hates them.

He doesn't even have a reason to he just hates them.

-Erza sometimes refers to her guildmates as "Feral children".

-Dragonslayers cannot whistle if their life depended on it.

-Loke knows French because most of his masters were in the French Court meaning it was mandatory for him to learn it. (I refuse to believe anyone with common sense would date him with that haircut he had in the human world, looked like something a 5-year-old would draw on a stick figure in an attempt to draw hair).

-Levy knows French, Arabic, and a few other languages.

-She fucks with people by talking to Loke in French and making them think that they're talking about that person why they aren't.

-Mira tried to learn French, she failed very badly since she kept forgetting the parts before the word and kept messing it up.

-The dragon slayers can purr when happy, growl when mad, and whimper when sad.

-The same thing applies to Loke but mostly because he's an overgrown cat.

-In order to date someone at the guild if you aren't in it you have to get Erza's blessing/asking her if it's alright since she's kinda the older sister and also the first one you wanna tell.

-Loke does not blow-dry his hair after he washes it because it just poof's up and there's no way to fix it other than to wash his hair again and look like a drowned cat for an hour or two. Though his hair is very soft after he washes it and it properly drys and isn't wet.

-Celestial spirits can dream, but their dreams consist of looking back on old memories from an outside viewpoint.

-Freed says "Let's have another round tonight" very unenthusiastically when drunk, just that sentence, no other sentence, just that one, only when he's drunk.

-Loke's good with finances along with fashion because one of his previous master, Valeria, pushed her financial work on him as a 'learning experience'.

-Loke was also offered a modeling job before and Lucy is super pissed since he of all people can get one but not her. (In the human au, he actual does modeling)

-If Mira and Loke were to team up it'd most like to be to help people in the guild get together.

-They would succeed.

-They both also like wine.

-Loke and Erza are bi, Mira is pan.

-Upon learning about this, Juvia considered Loke a love rival, be assured her that he was none and that he'd give her some advice to trying to date Gray because Gray and romance don't go well if she kept quiet about it.

-Gray ended up figuring it out and still holds it against him.

-Loke does not like being compared to a cat, he despises it so Gray as the best friend he is does exactly that.

-The two of them have blackmail on each other, and Gray often drags Loke into watching horror movies knowing he absolutely despises him with the very core of his being.

-Gajeel will fight anyone who hurts his best friend, Juvia.

Or anyone who hurts his guild but Juvia is different since she's been with him since they joined Fairy Tail.

Natsu once grabbed a pan straight out of the oven and horrified everyone in the room.

#fairy tail #fairy tail headcanons #headcanons #fairy tail laxus dreayer #fairy tail freed #fairy tail mirajane #fairy tail lucy heartfilia #fairy tail natsu dragneel #fairy tail gray fullbuster #fairy tail gajeel redfox #fairy tail juvia lockster #fairy tail aries #fairy tail loke #fairy tail evergreen

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fallingfor-fics · 3 years

Text

Teachers Pet- chapter 5: tour of Hogwarts

All chapters

chapter 4

"Well there we have it! Welcome to Slytherin y/n, please go find a seat at the table and enjoy your first breakfast as a Hogwarts student, and come find me after!" Dumbledore said smiling and patting me on the back, nudging me towards the table. "Now everyone enjoy!" he said as he snapped his fingers and breakfast foods of all different kinds appeared on the tables and students began to dig in immediately.

The cheers had finally calmed down and I walked over to the table looking for a empty spot. "Hey y/n come come here and sit with us!" I saw a boy with very blonde hair holler to me. He had two other boys sitting across from him staring back and forth between me and this odd looking boy. I walked over and sat next to him smiling. "Hi" I said softly. "I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy and this is Crabbe and that's Goyle" he said pointing to the two boys across from him. "Oh well it's nice to meet you" "oh the pleasure is all mine" Draco said a little suspiciously if I might add, I can usually read people somewhat well and he seemed like a little trouble maker. I'd have to be careful with this one. I reached over and grabbed a biscuit from the mounds of food and put some jelly and butter on it. "Oh c'mon y/n all this food and you can have any of it, and you're just gonna settle for a biscuit." I looked at the blonde boy and just nodded my head and took a bite. I looked to his friends and they were stuffing their faces with eggs and bacon. "So y/n tell me about yourself" Draco asked as he bit into his pancakes. "Ok, well I transferred from Beauxbatons and I'm a sixth year, and my parents just divorced, which is why I was forced to go here." I said getting a cup of orange juice and taking a sip. "Oh so if you went to Beauxbatons you must be filthy rich. I'm sure you are based on the look of ya, and I myself am pretty wealthy. I don't know if you've heard of my father Lucius Malfoy, but we are a pretty esteemed pureblood family of Slytherins" he said smugly bragging like I cared, which I guess he couldn't tell I didn't. "Well I wouldn't say rich, but I am fortunate enough. Depends on how you look at it." I said smiling. "Hmm and are you a pureblood as well?" he said staring me down, I could tell my answer really mattered to him. "Yes as far as I know" I said lying. I know that was probably wrong and will probably backfire but I needed a place to sit and I didnt need to give him a reason to mess with me. We continued talking and eating until breakfast was almost over, it was then that I looked up at the teachers table to find Dumbledore that I locked eyes with a man, he had jet black hair and pale skin, with deep coal black eyes, they almost seemed to look directly into my soul. He had a somber and pissed off look on his face. I got distracted staring at him, he wore all black too, what was he a vampire? No that's silly. I finally snapped back into reality and realized he was staring me down still and quickly turned back to Draco. "Draco, who's that man with the black hair and sad face up there?" I said lightly laughing. "Oh that's Professor Snape the potions Professor" he responded. "Hmm." "Oh and he's the head of Slytherin" this made my eyes go wide. "HE'S the head of our house!" I said shocked looking back at the man once more who was lightly conversing with the teachers next to him, although he looked like he'd rather die than be sitting there. "Yeah he's a real bitter man, but he tends to favor us." Draco said casually. "Interesting" soon all the food disappeared and we were dismissed. "Ok well time for class, you coming what classes do you have?" Draco asked. "Oh well Dumbledore told me to see him after. So i'll find you later.'' I said patting his shoulder and walking up to the teachers table.

Most of the teachers were exiting, except Dumbledore who was waiting for me. He stood next to a girl that was about my height and had a smile on her face with reddish brown wavy shoulder length hair. "Ahh there you are y/n this is Hermione Granger, she's one of my most exceptional students and she will be showing you around and taking you to Hogsmeade to get your things!" Dumbledore said smiling. "Hello y/n" Hermione said, extending her hand to shake mine, I took her hand and returned the gesture. "Hi its nice of you to take the time to do this" I smiled "oh no worries a free break from school is no issue!" she laughed. "Ok well I will let you girls get to it! y/n here is a pouch of galleons I want you to get whatever you need on me! Now run along I will be in my office if you need anything, oh and here is your schedule" he said handing it to me and walking off. Soon we were the last ones leaving and headed out to exit the school. "So what house are you in Hermione are you a Slytherin as well?" I asked as we walked down the hall. "Oh heavens no, I'm in Gryffindor" she responded. "I take it Slytherins don't have the best rep here?" I asked "Oh I didn't mean it like that...but um yeah most of them are pretty...high headed." she said laughing a bit. "Oh interesting."

We finished up at Hogsmeade and I got my uniform and all the books and supplies Hermione said I would need. She was a pretty nice girl and I could see myself being friends with her. We got along well. As we approached the school I looked at my new watch I got at the store and it read 12:15. "What time is lunch?" "It's noon, it already started but I figured we could skip it and I could give you the tour now while everyones in the great hall," she said as we walked past the loud conversations coming from the doors. "Ok sounds good, I also wanted to use the restroom and change into my uniform and robes now so I can look normal ha" I said laughing "Oh ok cool follow me" she took me to the nearest bathroom and I went into the stall and changed as fast as possible, putting on the white button up and tie, I bought a sweater too but I didn't feel like putting that on right now, there was also a choice between green plaid skirt or a plain black one, and the stylist inside me said to go with the plaid since it was cute. I slipped on the skirt and tucked the shirt in and pulled up the black knee high socks and put my boots on over them. Topping it all off with my robe. I exited the stall and Hermione looked at me smiling, "Perfect you will fit right in" she said. I looked at myself in the mirror, it was definitely a look I'd have to get used to.

"Ok where to next" I asked as we exited the bathroom. "Well let me see your schedule and well base it-" we were cut off as we turned the corner and were confronted by the dark Professor. "What are you two doing? Last I checked it was lunch and everyone was in the great hall." Professor Snape said. He had a very deep velvety voice and he enunciated every word. It felt familiar like I had heard it somewhere. "We were-" Hermione began but he cut her off once more. "Skipping are we?" he said arms folded across his chest. "Ten points from Gryf-" "Actually no" I interrupted before he could finish. He gave me a sharp cold look for doing so and stepped closer about to yell at me for cutting him off. "Headmaster Dumbledore, or should I say my Godfather, sent Hermione and I to Hogsmeade to get my school supplies and show me around Hogwarts." I said smiling politely up at him. He paused for a moment with a look on his face that said he didn't realize who I was and dropped his hands down. "Don't talk back to me, Ms. L/n is it?" I nodded my head, trying to make it seem I wasn't scared of him, even though if I was being honest I was a bit spooked. "Well just because you are part of my house and Albus' goddaughter does not mean you will get special treatment." he said raising his voice a tad. "Of course not, Sir" I said politely, smirking. "Now if you will excuse us Hermione was showing me to my classes." I said grabbing her hand and stepping around him. "Don't get smart with me L/n!" he said as we kept walking. I heard him let out an angry sigh and walk off, I turned to watch him and saw his robe billowing behind him as he left briskly. "Oh. My Gosh. Y/n! You could have gotten us in so much trouble talking to him like that!" Hermione said as we kept walking. "We can't let him know he gets to us or else he will just be more of a pain. Draco warned me but I didn't know he was that cruel."

#severusimagine #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #severusnape #snape x reader #snape imagine #professor snape #snape #slytherin #Snape slowburn #hogwarts

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glassworkspiderlilies · 4 years

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other side of paradise

Kyokou Suiri (In/Spectre) | Sakuragawa Kuro, Iwanaga Kotoko | AO3 Summary: In the span of a month, Sakuragawa Kuro has been dumped by his girlfriend, lost his job, and lost his home. Things can't get much worse from here, right? (In which Kuro joins the mafia, for better or worse.) Notes: Inspired by atutsie’s tweet! A rapidly written & loose mafia AU i wrote a few weeks back; loose bc i don’t have real knowledge about how organized crime truly works haha.

Sakuragawa Kuro does not consider himself a particularly unlucky man. He has a place of his own, a steady job (if not a high paying one), and attends a fairly prestigious law school. He has a little savings, hardly ever gets sick, has a girlfriend of two years, and overall leads a very, very normal and uneventful life. He likes it that way.

It changes, one day, when Saki breaks up with him. She wants to focus on her career, she says, and thinks that they would have probably been better off as friends, anyway. He looks bored, she tells him, when they go out, and even after two years she doesn't think she really knows or understands him.

(Kuro startles a bit at those last words, so like his own during one of his last conversations with Rikka. Unfortunately, that means he knows exactly how Saki feels.)

He's not bored, Kuro insists, but Saki smiles a little sadly at him, and says that he's probably being genuine, but she can't bring herself to actually believe him. Kuro is quiet, after that, unable to fault her. He's not sure if he's telling the truth, himself.

Saki shakes her head when he pulls out his wallet to pay for the two of them one last time and splits the bill with him when they leave the restaurant. They shake hands outside the door, and stare at each other for a moment longer.

"I'd like to stay friends," she says, her voice almost wistful, "But I have a feeling that I might not see you again."

"That's ominous," Kuro says. She laughs, though it's a little strained.

"Well, say hi if you see me, and I'll do the same," she responds. "Don't be a stranger, if you can help it."

He raises an eyebrow at the wording, but nods. Saki smiles faintly, leaves first, and Kuro watches her go, until her back is out of sight.

Things go downhill, after that, like the universe has decided to cash in whatever misfortune it's been withholding.

Kuro is suddenly out of a job, when the store he's been working at is irreparably damaged; the store owner promises him a job if he can rebuild, but with the investigation under way, the possibility of the money he can collect via insurance and using it to rebuild is extremely questionable.

About two weeks later, as Kuro is still job hunting, the apartment complex he lives in sends a notice out to its residents that the building has been sold and everyone must move out within one month. The building manager is unreachable for the first week, and when he finally does pick up the phone, his voice is high and distressed and can only repeat it’s out of my hands, my apologies, there’s nothing I can do over and over. The whole thing sits oddly in Kuro's stomach. He doesn't think that he's specifically being targeted, despite this chain of consecutive severe downfalls, but he feels like there's something else at work here.

In any case. Kuro sits on a park bench, a flyer for another apartment complex in his hands, and stares at the yellowing grass. It’s late summer, and in the span of a month, he's been dumped by his girlfriend, lost his job, and lost his home. His savings will tide him over for a short while, but the lack of place to have and to move his things to weighs heavily on him.

Kuro puts his head in his hands and breathes deep. He could probably sleep in the school library for a while if it comes down to it, but he still needs a long term solution. He's still young. He can figure this out.

A breeze picks up and lifts the loose flyer out of Kuro's hands. He watches it fly away, hitting the ground before being carried a few more feet and hitting the ground again with loud, papery smacks.

Sakuragawa Kuro has a short term solution: to sleep in the school library once he's officially kicked out of his apartment. He has a second short term solution as well, the favorite of any college student his age when times are tough: get drunk.

Very drunk.

How much worse can things get, anyway?

Gunshots make everything exponentially worse, he decides, as he rests his head against a lamp post. He’s not entirely sure where he is—he’d wanted fresh air and wandered, but a brief glance around reveals that he’s on an empty street that he thinks leads up to a park. Wow, maybe he'll die here tonight, after everything that's happened. He's had too much to drink, but at least everything is numb, so he takes in the increasing noise around him with an incredible sense of calm.

"Sir? Sir, I think you should evacuate the scene," a feminine voice says, and he peels himself away from the lamp post to see a young girl standing next to him, her left hand resting on a cane.

She's wearing a frilly black dress with intricate white embroidery that stands out underneath the light. Kuro stares, and she shifts after his gaze has lingered a little too long, shooting him a suspicious look.

"Your dress," he manages thickly, as he meets her eyes. They are startlingly clear and a bright indigo, and his head pounds a harder. He winces as the increase in pressure, holding a hand up to his head.

"Oh my, you have a good eye for quality," the girl says, flouncing her skirt with pride. She blinks when he winces, then looks a little closer at him, and her eyes widen just a little. He's not sure what is happening, but the glare of the street light is also starting to hurt his head, so he walks a little ways away from it. The girl follows, her shoes and cane tapping on the concrete.

"Are you drunk?" she asks, her voice innocent and curious.

"A bit, yeah," he says, leaning against the stone wall this time. Dimly, he registers more gunshots, and he looks at the girl next to him, delayed panic setting in. There's a young girl here. "Wait—you—run, those are gunshots—"

"Yes, I've been trying to tell you to evacuate, but you seem to be incapable of doing so," she says, businesslike, perfectly at ease as she pulls out a cell phone and taps a message out. "It's your lucky night that I'm here, then."

His lucky night, is it? It doesn't feel lucky at all.

"Have a seat," the girl suggests, and he obeys, sinking onto the ground, even though he really should be running. He leans his head back against the wall, and the girl leans in a little and scrutinizes him a bit more. "You have very nice collarbones," she says suddenly, and he blinks at her.

"What?"

"Your collarbones. I like them," she repeats, slower this time. He looks down to the top couple buttons of his shirt undone.

"Oh," he says, for lack of anything else to say.

"A man should have nice collarbones," the girl says, decisively.

"Okay," he says.

"Anyway, what your name?" she asks.

"Sakuragawa Kuro," he says, and she hums.

"Iwanaga Kotoko," she says, watching his face. He bobs his head in acknowledgement, and she smiles a little at this.

"Iwanaga-san," Kuro begins, squinting at her. "Gunshots notwithstanding, isn't it dangerous for middle school girls to be out this late at night to begin with?"

"How rude!" Iwanaga says, her cheeks puffing up childishly. "I am twenty years old, thank you. I'm ashamed to say my face hasn't changed very much since middle school, but—! It has changed some, thank you very much! You could have at least said high school student!"

Kuro laughs, and she looks startled at the sound, and were he a little more sober he would notice the dusting of red across her face.

"My bad," he says, still chuckling, "Then, a young lady like you shouldn't be out so late at night anyway."

"It matters not," she shrugs, taking a seat next to him and looking very dignified as she does so. "I'm not afraid."

It's not a matter of being afraid, he thinks, or says, he's not sure. At that moment, someone rounds the corner, spots them, and raises a gun—and drunk as he is, Kuro's body moves before his mind can catch up. He throws himself in front of the Iwanaga girl, her eyes widen, and he hears the crack of a gunshot before he blacks out.

"I rather like him in my lap," he hears a voice say, as a hand runs through his hair. "Up close, I really do like his face. Is this what they call love at first sight?"

"My lady, please...he's a civilian."

"Foolish and unnecessary as it was, he jumped in to save me. I think that merits something, don't you think? Bring him back with us. I'll have Sanshiro treat that bullet wound."

"...Yes, my lady."

He hears a laugh.

"A lucky night for both of us, then," she says, and the darkness drags him back under.

When he wakes, his shoulder hurts, and there are two strange creatures in the room. They're probably dogs, one black and one white, but they're very long and leggy and certainly not a breed he's used to seeing. They look a little nervous, and they walk over and circle the bed he's lying on before sniffing him hesitantly. He tries to reach a hand out to pet one of them, but they shy away, blinking at him with their large, wary eyes.

"Oh, you're awake," a voice says, and he looks over at the door to see the young girl from last night. He wracks his brain for her name, as the dogs trot over to her and circle around her. She pets both them before walking closer to his bed, and the dogs lie down by her feet.

"Iwanaga-san," he says, voice hoarse.

"You remember my name," she says, pleased, then considers. "I suppose you would, if you got shot on my account."

It comes back to him then, the full events of their previous encounter, though the details of the conversation they shared are lost.

"On your account?" he asks, putting one hand over his eyes. "Whoever they were...were they after you?"

"Yes and no," Iwanaga says, sitting on the side of his bed. "It would be more accurate to say that I was after them, and unfortunately things got messy. But they caused a mess on my turf in the first place, so I could say they were after me, as well."

"That's...confusing."

"Well, you are a civilian."

A civilian, she says. He vaguely remembers a man’s voice pleading—my lady, please, he's a civilian—and suddenly he's not sure if he wants to ask what he was going to ask.

He might have looked suddenly wary, because Iwanaga smiles at him, and leans a little closer.

"Kuro-san, do you need a job?" she says cheerfully, and he freezes. "I'd say it's a good deal, and it comes with a place to live, free of charge, with a full range of amenities, of course."

"That sounds too good to be true," he counters, after a brief pause, and she laughs.

"It's not an easy job," she says. "And there's some risk involved. But I think the benefits will outweigh it."

She leans over to whisper his anticipated pay in his ear, and he raises an eyebrow. It's a very calculated amount—high pay, but not outrageously so. He wouldn't have to worry about expenses, and could put a hefty amount into his savings, and could afford semi-frequent luxuries if he so chose.

"What's the job?" he asks, narrowing his eyes, and Iwanaga continues to smile.

"My right hand," she says. "It's safe enough, by my side. But again, there is some risk involved. And I'll need help when I need it."

This is the first risk, Kuro realizes, that his job doesn't have a specific description, nor specific hours.

A minute passes, two. Kuro considers the recent events of the past month, and this sudden golden offer.

"There is an alternative, too," Iwanaga says, her eyes gleaming. "But it's least two steps."

"And what," Kuro says, wearily, "Is that?"

"We could date," she says, batting her eyelashes, "As a preamble to getting married."

He chokes on his own saliva.

"It was love at first sight," she continues hotly, unperturbed by his reaction, "Of course, we could do both—that is, you could take the job and date me, and I come with quite a lot of assets if we get married."

"I wouldn't agree to it just for...whatever fortune it is you have," Kuro manages to get out, between coughs. "And there has to be more than two steps involved in that."

"Well, that's silly," Iwanaga sniffs, ignoring the last part. "But I suppose that's sweet of you, too. In any case, it's not a bad deal, is it? You've recently broken up with your girlfriend, you're out of a job, and you'll be evicted in less than three weeks. You don't have any better options, here, Kuro-san."

He frowns at her.

"How, exactly, do you know all that?"

"I have my ways, which you can learn a bit of if you accept my offer," she says, continuing to smile.

He comes to the realization, then, that the choice is—more illusory than it seems. He doesn't feel in danger, and he could probably walk out of here if he wanted to. But. But. She's used to getting what she wants, and so if he left, it wouldn’t be the last he would see of her. And he...well, she's right, he doesn't have any better options. There's not a real choice, here.

"I'll take the job," he says, exhausted.

"Wonderful! And about my other proposition...?"

Oh, she was serious, Kuro thinks, with mild surprise.

"For that I'll...have to think about it," he demurs, as best he can.

She pouts, but seems satisfied enough with the fact that he's taking the job offer. Iwanaga reaches out a hand, and it takes what little energy he has left to shake it.

"That's well enough, then," Iwanaga smiles, and grips his hand firmly. "Welcome to the mafia, Sakuragawa Kuro-san."

He doesn't startle, merely lets out a deep sigh. It's odd, to hear it confirmed out loud, though he had an inkling that this was where he was headed towards. You look bored, he remembers Saki saying, and closes his eyes briefly. Now, he's just tired.

"Waka, Momo, be nice to him, now," Iwanaga says, and the dogs lift their heads. They sniff at him again, and this time when he reaches out to pet them, they allow it, though they still look at him a bit warily.

"Is it too late to ask," Kuro begins, as Iwanaga begins to walk away, the black dog, Waka, following her. Momo lingers behind, still curious, apparently, about Kuro. "Who you are, specifically?"

Her eyes widen, and then she laughs.

"Well, no, I suppose," she says. "They call me the Heiress. My parents run the Iwanaga Group as the heads, but—I do, as well."

The Heiress, indeed. How literal.

"Wow," he says, flatly.

"You could stand to be a little more impressed," she sniffs.

"Wow, amazing," Kuro says, with only marginally more feeling.

She pouts at him.

"In any case, take this time to recover; I'll take care of your other affairs. I'll also have someone come to take measurements for your suits in a day or so, if you’re well enough to stand."

"Suits," Kuro echoes. "Right."

He's still kind of winded from what she said first, that she’d take care of his other affairs. Kuro doesn't have to do a thing, and all his problems are being solved in a heartbeat.

"You needn't sound so excited," Iwanaga pouts, "Your daily life will be unimpeded for a while, and you'll be able to attend school fairly normally. It's more likely than not that I—and therefore you—will be warned in advance if we need to sortie. Just think of it like any other on-call job. In any case, I hope you aren't squeamish, Kuro-san."

He makes a noncommittal noise, and she smiles one more time before leaving the room, the two dogs trailing after her.

It's only after that he realizes that even though he now knows who Iwanaga Kotoko is, he doesn't actually know what it is that she, specifically, does.

He sighs again. Well. He had more or less already hit rock bottom—now, the only way from here is up, right?

(Some weeks later, he is formally introduced to the rest of the Family, walking into the dining hall in one of his new perfectly tailored black suits. He presumes this isn’t all of the Family, but an impressive number of them line the sides of the room, perfectly straight, their own suits just as crisp. Some are old, some are young, and there are men and women alike. The intensity of the stares unnerves him, but he keeps his eyes on Iwanaga, who is sitting at the head of the long table eating her breakfast with elegance. Waka and Momo pad over to circle him, and Waka returns immediately to Iwanaga's side while Momo escorts Kuro the rest of the way. He stops when Momo stops, a few feet away from Iwanaga, though the white dog leaves him after a moment to stand next to Waka. Kuro feels a rush of gratitude for the dog, who has instructed him more than anyone else so far.

"Good morning," Iwanaga greets, wiping her mouth with a pristine white napkin. "You look very good in that suit."

"Thank you," Kuro says, and he supposes he's meant to say something more, because a few of the others shift, or give him a measuring look.

Iwanaga doesn't seem to mind, either way.

"Everyone, this is Sakuragawa Kuro. He took a bullet for me a few weeks ago. Today, he starts his position as my right hand."

Silence, though Kuro isn't sure if it's shock or simply decorum. The looks he gets are—honestly, less hostile than he'd expected. He thinks he sees pity on several faces. He's not sure what that means.

Iwanaga waves him over, and he crosses the remaining distance. He thinks he knows what he's meant to do, now, though he hasn't been given any particular instruction.

He kneels. Iwanaga blinks, surprised, but looks pleased.

"Boss," he says, then pauses. "My lady."

"Either will do," Iwanaga says, amused, holding out her hand.

He takes it in his own and kisses the back of her hand. Iwanaga smiles, he stands, and moves just behind her, to her right.

"You learn quick," she says, resuming her breakfast. "In any case, this whole…ceremony is only for this morning's formalities. It would be absurd to do this every day."

Kuro has to admit that he's relieved to hear that.

Iwanaga finishes her meal relatively quickly, and she rises, using her cane to help her up. He supposes he'll learn the story behind that, soon enough.

"So, what's today's agenda?" he asks, as he follows her out.

"Nothing special for now, just familiarizing you. You're still basically a civilian at this point, after all."

Kuro has nothing to say to that. Iwanaga glances at him.

"To be honest, you're remarkably calm for someone who's just joined the mafia," she says. "Or is it simply because you don't know much about us?"

"If I'm just a regular civilian, what cause do I have to know about the details of the mafia?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Touché. In any case, if you're concerned, no one here will mess with you, unless you provoke them first. But I doubt you will, and I don't think me telling you this will go to your head, either."

So, he's under her protection, and it seems like it's worth quite a lot even if she is the heiress to the group, if she can say this so surely.

"That's quite the confident assumption for a random drunk college student you picked up off the street a few weeks ago," he points out.

She giggles, a suspicious sort of hee hee that has him narrowing his eyes. But she says nothing else, and Kuro lets it go. He follows after her in silence as they tour the place and meet other employees; they all greet him politely enough, but their gazes linger, and again he’s not sure if he sees pity amidst the curiosity.

"Are you bored?" Iwanaga asks when they take a break for lunch, not looking at him as their food is served. They eat together, this time.

"No," he says, watching Iwanaga cut into her food with beautifully precise moments.

She looks up at him, tilts her head a little, and the corner of her lips quirk up.

"Oh?" she says, turning her attention back to her meal, evidently not expecting a response.

Oh, Kuro thinks to himself, as he turns to his own plate. This time, he might actually be telling the truth.)

#kyokou suiri #inspectre #iwanaga kotoko #sakuragawa kuro #fanfiction #more notes on ao3 #oof had such a bad headache today and it took all day to finally post this #did wanna get it out before the end of the weekend tho #i think i had more notes i wanted to write but. at this point whatever

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etirabys · 4 years

Text

fifth night back in korea

Today I picked up my least favorite Korean passport so far – I delighted myself by having a very bad photo for the one I got in 2012, and a really attractive genderless looking photo in 2017; this time I look unkempt but airbrushed, which is not as good as very bad or very good. Then I took the giant to Minsokchon, which is a nearby ��living folk village’. It’s got reconstructed houses from three different regions and three different social classes smashed into one location so you can get an overview of how people lived, although all the houses looked suspiciously decent to live in.

I’ve been there twice or so, for field trips, and was utterly bored. This time I was with the giant, who was so excited about everything and communicated this to me, and there were cats. Probably they were always there but I never knew because they wisely fled from loud hordes of schoolchildren. These two (beautiful! soft! nuzzly!) completely distracted me from informational boards about traditional dyeing processes for ten minutes.

The one on the right came up to us soon afterwards and wanted pettings!

Eventually I did go read the boards, one of which is about tie-dyeing. I was surprised by this because tie-dyed fabric does not feature in any traditional Korean wear I know of, and – more surprisingly – any culture’s tradition that comes to my mind. I’m sure there must be many, because it’s so obvious and easy and looks cool, but my only association with it is Californian young people.

There were lots of people in hanbok in Minsokchon, because many touristy places in Korea have adjacent hanbok rental stores, and there are people hired to perform traditional dances and music. This really turned me off as a child visiting Minsokchon, because all the hanbok was elaborate and brightly dyed, and clearly mapped to what rich people would have worn for nice occasions. Young me thought this was horribly inauthentic and felt cheated of a historical experience.

But present me is delighted by Minsokchon and its garishly dressed tourists as a 21st century cultural phenomenon, and not disappointed in Minsokchon as an inadequate 19th century recreation. In a similar way, where young me was annoyed by descriptions of history or old culture that were obviously nationalistic mythmaking – “this is a clearly biased description of how this battle went, I’m learning very little about what actually happened, fuck whoever wrote this, I’m not listening to you” – present me is interested and amused – “Ooh, a piece of the national mythmaking project that permeates and holds up Korean society today!”

We also saw some awful drawings of tigers, without which no overview of Korean art is complete. (The giant: “I’m sorry dear, but Korean people had no idea what tigers looked like.”)

There were also “experiential activities”, which I didn’t realize until I saw penned horses, expressed mystification, and the giant told me they were meant to be ridden by tourists. “It’s a traditional experience they offer, in addition to the ‘punishment experience’!” he said, showing me the pamphlet.

The Local Government Office had a Punishment Courtyard with ground-parallel crucifixes and sticks to hit restrained convicts with, and a jail for the convicts. The jail started off with an assortment of modest, straightforward torture implements in the first cell; a set of beaten-up, fettered male mannequins in the second cell, labeled ‘light crimes’; a pair of bloody-faced, pilloried male mannequins in the third cell, labeled what I thought was ‘medium crimes’. The fourth cell, where I expected to find the very abused victims convicted of ‘serious crimes’, enraged and disappointed me by containing only a hot well-dressed female mannequin sitting normally, who did not appear to be inconvenienced in the least. Writing this out, I just realized that I must have misread the ‘중' in the word I thought meant ‘medium crimes’ as being 'middle’, which is the Chinese character that most commonly maps to that sound in Korean. But I now remember that the sound is also mapped to by the character for ‘heavy, serious’, so those cells must have been for ‘light vs serious crimes’. Ah, well, I forgive them for leading me to expect an exciting progression.

But probably the funniest thing I saw during the trip was in the museum attached to the folk village – a description of a practice in a particular province where, when someone was giving birth, their husband would have a rope tied around their topknot and have it yanked through a door. The explanation at the bottom explains that this is to “be together in the pain of childbirth”. By the way, all the illustrations in the museum were in this same watercolor anime style.

The giant is a great person to do museum experiences with. He’s traveled a lot in his life, and also is a curious person who really paid attention to the answers to the questions he asked throughout his lifetime about how things worked, and mentally assimilated them into one fluid, working map of the world. The result is that he just seems to know things, and when I wonder out loud why something is the way it is, or why people did things a certain way, he’ll give me the answer (and my reaction is frequently “how on earth did you know that?”) or an informed, plausible-sounding guess I couldn’t have generated. I expressed surprise that the Korean anvil looked so much like Western anvils when we were looking at a reconstruction of a traditional ironworking shop, and he explained why anvils are shaped the way they are, and the known or probable function of each subpart. He’s awfully attractive.

At the end of the trip, we met ANOTHER cat who came right up to me when I squatted down to say hello, and decided the area between my calves and coat was like a warm box that was now For Cat.

Rare photo of the giant, who is wearing a mask because he has a cold and Korea is a civilized place where you can wear masks when you are sick without having people looking at you like you have the plague. Cat hopped up on his leg upon the slightest encouragement and mrowed plaintively when he relocated it the ground because the village was closing.

Poor cat! I know he’s a very good person to sit on and get scritches from. I am sorry you only had him for a few minutes when I intend to hog him for decades.

#rambl #culturanecdata #2019koreavisit

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anarcoqueer1994 · 5 years

Note

Fic idea: dumbass trio + Cyrus are dumb and get kicked out of Costco

I thought this was a really funny prompt so I tried my best. Hope you like it.

Who Actually Gets Kicked Our of Costco?

Cyrus was perfectly content to have a good day at home by himself but then TJ invited him out. TJ promised him it would be super lowkey. He said there was nothing he had to worry about it. But now he was sitting in a security office of a Costco with Jonah, Marty, and of course, TJ.

It all started earlier that day. It was the first day of summer break after a very stressful sophomore year of high school. Andi, Buffy, Amber, and Libby were having a Dance Dance Film Festival today to celebrate not only the end of the school year, but also Amber's graduation. Cyrus was never really interested in the films so he passed. TJ, Jonah, and Marty on the other hand, were planning a guys day. Cyrus thought that they would probably just play video games, maybe catch a game on TV. Honestly Cyrus didn't really want to do that either.

The last few years, TJ, Marty and Jonah got surprisingly close. They all bonded over a shared love of sports, but as they hung out more, the three of them realized how much they all had in common. They eventually got really close, the strength of their friendship only rivaled by the Good Hair Crew. And Cyrus was so happy that TJ had friends now other then himself, (and Andi and Buffy by extension.)

But he didn't really like hanging out with just the three of them. Of course they all hung out together with the larger group, and he hangs out with Jonah sometimes. And TJ, it was no question. Any chance to be with his boyfriend he took. Well almost any chance. He always felt a little out of the loop when he was alone with the three of them. He was usually clueless to what they were talking about. He guesses that how people must feel when they were alone with himself, Buffy, and Andi.

But this morning TJ called him asking him if he wanted to spend the day with them

"Come on, Cy. I know Andi and Buffy are busy today." The blonde was practically whining over the phone. "And I want to spend time with my boyfriend."

"I don't really want to intrude on your "guys" day, Teej. We can hang out tonight maybe?" Cyrus tries to bargain with the athlete. After all, he did want to see TJ too.

TJ laughs on the other side of the phone. "Wouldn't really be intruding on a "guy's" day since you are a guy, you weirdo." He teases before pausing for a moment, not really sure how he wants to broach the next subject. "Cy, you never want to hang out with me, Jonah, and Marty. Why? Like I know you and Jonah were friends before you even met me. And I know you like me...well I am hoping you like me. Is it Marty? Do you not like him?"

"No, no. I don't have a problem with Marty. Marty is so good to Buffy and he is a nice guy. It's just… it's just that when the three of you are together, I feel kind of left out. I mean it is not a big deal, I just don't understand a lot of what you guys talk about. I sometimes have to text Buffy just to confirm that you guys are even talking about a sports team. I know it is stupid."

"No it is not stupid, not at all! Cyrus, I'm sorry if we ever made you feel left out. But today will be different. We are actually going to be running some errands for my mom and it would be fun to have you around. It will be super chill. Please?"

Even without seeing TJ, Cyrus knew he was pouting, with those big green puppy dog eyes. Cyrus relents and sighs. "Fine, I'll go."

"Great! We will be there in a bit to pick you up." He said excitedly.

"See you in a bit, Teej." He says before hanging up.

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

Twenty minutes later, TJ pulls up in his jeep, blaring Blink 182. He texts Cyrus letting him know they are there. A moment later, Cyrus comes out the door, smiling at the blonde in the front seat. Jonah had been in the passenger seat but moved to the back when they got to Cyrus' house.

Cyrus gets into the car, leaning over to give TJ a small kiss. "Hey." The shorter brunette smiles as he pulls away. TJ smiles back.

A fake gagging sound comes from the back seat. "Get a room." Marty jokes.

TJ looks in the rear view mirror and retorts, "You're just mad that my boyfriend actually wants to hang out with me, unlike your girlfriends." He sticks out his tongue before taking off. Cyrus can't help but laugh.

"So what kind of errands are we running?" Cyrus asks.

"Just some grocery shopping at Costco. My mom has a lot of students today and she can't find time to shop. And of course Amber has that thing with the girls. But we really need stuff for the house so I volunteered." TJ replies.

Cyrus hears some suspicious laughter from the back seat. That can't be good. Cyrus turns his head to look at two thirds of the dumbass trio. "What are you guys planning?" He says cautiously.

"Nothing, Cy." Jonah smiles over at Marty. Marty nods in agreement.Cyrus definitely doesn't believe them. He looks over at his boyfriend, who is obliviously singing along to "All The Small Things." He sighs and resigns himself to the fact that today is not going to be as laid back as TJ said.

Before long, they pull into the Costco parking lot and head in. Cyrus takes TJ's hand as they walk through the entrance with Marty and Jonah following close behind. TJ grabs a cart and Cyrus silently let's out a breath of relief. Maybe this would be an uneventful, normal old shopping trip.

But then he sees Marty grab a cart too. Marty gets a look in his eye that Cyrus knows all too well. It is the same look he gets when he and Buffy are going to make some mundane activity a competition. Marty looks over a TJ. "Cart racing?"

TJ gets a devious smile on his face and looks over at Jonah, who mirrors back his expression.

"I'm not going to like this idea, am I?" Cyrus asked, already knowing the answer.

"Cyrus, it's fun. I promise." The blonde boy says. Cyrus gives him a nervous look so TJ continues on. "Come on Underdog, dancing with danger, remember?''

"It is on my bucket list...I guess. What does it entail?" Cyrus caves, reluctantly looking around at the other three boys.

TJ gets close to him putting his arm around Cyrus' shoulder. "What we are going to do is go to one of those really long aisles. We will find an empty on if course. Then we literally race cars down the aisle."

"That does not sound fun. It sounds dangerous." It is no wonder, Cyrus thinks, Buffy and Andi have started referring to these three as the dumbass trio with ideas like this.

"Come on, man. " Jonah says, flashing a big dimpled smile. "It is fun."

It was obvious the other boys were not going to give up on this idea. Plus, though he will never admit it out loud, it does sound a little fun. Ever since he met TJ, he has felt more and more adventurous. TJ has always been there to drive him out of his comfortable box. Though it could be scary at times, TJ always makes it worth it. Not to mention, he really liked Jonah and even Marty, so this can't be too bad. "Alright. I'm in. You guys lead the way and I will follow along."

"Perfect." Marty smiles pushing his cart towards the back of the store. The others all follow. When they reached a deserted aisle towards the back corner of the store he stops. Walls of pet food surround either side of them.

"Okay so obviously the teams are me and Cyrus and then you two idiots." TJ laughs before pulling Cyrus to his waist.

Cyrus scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion. The taller boy can't explain why but he thinks it is so cute when his boyfriend does that. "What is it, muffin?" Marty and Jonah roll their eyes playfully at the overly cutesy nickname. They both knew their buddy was whipped. They will always give him a hard time but at the end of the day, they are so happy for him.

"What are the teams for?" Cyrus asked, genuinely confused.

"Sorry, I forgot to explain that. One person pushes the cart while the other sits inside. Makes it a little harder having to push someone in the cart." He beams at the shorter boy.

Before Cyrus can respond, Marty cuts in. "Hold up one second, why do you automatically get Cyrus? What if he wants to be on my team instead? " Marty knows how to push his best friend's buttons and loved doing it. So he keeps on. "What do you say, Cyrus? I am the one on the track team, you know. We'd definitely win."

Unfortunately for TJ, Cyrus loves pushing his buttons too. Cyrus feins a look of sympathy as he put his hand on TJ's shoulder. "I love you, I really do. But alas, I have to choose Marty for this one." He pulls away, trying to keep a straight face.

TJ, also one who is not afraid of the dramatics, pretends to pout before looking at Jonah. "That's fine, Cy. Jonah and I are going to leave you both in the dust."

"You wish, Kippen." Marty laughs.

"Whatever you say, dude. Let's just get this started." Jonah says right before he sticks out his tongue at Marty and Cyrus. Cyrus for his part can only laugh anxiously.

The boys line the carts up at the front of the aisle. Jonah and Cyrus get into the carts as the other two boys take their positions, ready to push off. Marty leans down slightly "Ready Cyrus?" After all, anyone with eyes could tell he looked terrified. Cyrus turns his head slightly to look at his teammate. Marty finishes, "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you. I think TJ would kick my ass if I did."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw TJ nodding in agreement. This puts a little smile on Cyrus' face despite the fear in the pit of his stomach. He tries to ignore all the possible things that could go wrong. He really is trying to let his guard down and have fun. "Yea, I'm ready. Let's do this thing!" He tries to sound excited but knows it came out pretty lame.He turns to look forward down the aisle. Luckily none of his friends have ever made feel bad for being himself no matter how lame he sounds.

"Great let's get going." Jonah says from the cart next to him. Marty looks at TJ and says "Come on TJ, you are going to have to stop staring at Cyrus like a dummy or we are never going to race." Cyrus blushes at the thought of TJ being distracted by him. He knows they have been dating for more than two years at this point but he still thinks it is cute.

He doesn't have time to dwell on this too long because his thoughts are interrupted by Marty yelling "Go!" Suddenly he is flying down the aisle way. His hands grip so tight to either side of the metal box he is now rocketing down the aisle in, that his knuckles turn white. He doesn't know how Marty does it, but he was right, he was faster than TJ, plunging ahead, pushing Cyrus past the blurred colors that were once pet food packages. He can hear laughter coming from the other boys. And then, surprisingly he starts laughing too. He is actually having enjoying himself.

Well he was enjoying himself, that is until he and Marty had to make an emergency detour. An old woman had rounded the corner of the aisle just as Marty was about to cross the invisible finish line. Marty had to swerve to avoid her, knocking Cyrus to the side of the cart as he stopped, inches from hitting her. Jonah and TJ stop second after. She glares at all of them as she walks past to continue shopping.

TJ runs over to Cyrus. "Cy? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good baby. Just help me out of here." Cyrus gives him his hand to steady himself as he steps out.

"Cyrus I am so sorry!" Marty adds, "I didn't mean to slam you into the side. I didn't want to hit that lady.'

"Nah, don't worry. That was actually a lot of fun." Cyrus says earnestly. Jonah comes over and joins them.

"Well then, you guys wouldn't mind a little game of 'Tag!'" Jonah says before tagging Marty on the shoulder and running off. Marty is quick to follow him. Cyrus feels TJ's fingers intertwined with his before realizing that TJ is pulling him forward. "Come on Muffin, let's run before Marty realizes he doesn't have to just chase Jonah. "

Usually Cyrus would argue but he was against all odds he felt himself running along with TJ. He actually liked this. And any opportunity to hold TJ's hand was a plus for him. So he let TJ pull him through waves of customers, barely dodging people, while nearly knocking over elaborate displays. Eventually they come to a stop in the bulk toilet paper aisle. Cyrus is glad because running has never been his strong suit.

"Why...did...we...stop?" Cyrus asks while trying to catch his breath.

"Shhh… " TJ says in a whisper. "We have to be quiet in case Marty is around. We are going to hide."

"Hide? Hide how?" Cyrus whispers back.

TJ gives a playful smile before dropping Cyrus' hand and going over to the wall of toilet paper that lined the aisle. He takes a few off the front before pushing the ones behind them to either side, creating a cozy empty spot on the large industrial shelves. Cyrus watches curiously as he does this. TJ looks back at his boyfriend and says "Get in."

"Get in? You want me to climb on a shelf?"

"Yep. This is how we are going to hide, muffin." TJ flashes him another big smile.

Cyrus lets out a little laugh. He can't believe he is about to do this, but honestly, he is having a good time. What is the worst that can happen? "Whatever you say, Teej."

He steps on to the shelf and sits down next to a stack of some store brand Charmin. TJ follows him, squeezing in next to the shorter boy. He leans forward and stacks the packages he had removed in front of them so it is like they are in their own, dark toilet paper lined room. Because of the close proximity, TJ throws his arm around Cyrus's shoulder to make more room or at least that's what he tells himself.

Cyrus turns his head to face the other boy. He whispers "Thanks for inviting me today."

"Of course, Underdog. I will always look for an excuse to spend time with you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I do. I am just glad that I did this. I am having a lot of fun you know "visiting the edge." I cannot commit to living there yet but visiting isn't scary with you. " Cyrus jokes. "Plus I think I like hanging out with the dumbass trio."

"What did you just call us?" TJ gives him a puzzled look.

"Ahh it's nothing. Anyhow…" Cyrus says changing the subject. TJ lets it go for now while he listens to Cyrus continue on. "I am sorry for not wanting to come."

"It is okay, you came didn't you? Though…"

"Though what?" Cyrus urges.

"Though I was a little jealous when Marty got to be your partner earlier." TJ playfully huffs. Both boys have their heads turned looking at each other. Their faces are so close.

Cyrus blushes at the thought of him making his boyfriend jealous. He bites his bottom lip before replying. "Well Marty may have been gotten to push me in a cart but you are the only one that gets to do this." Cyrus leans forward, pressing his lips against TJ's and jock is more than happy to respond.

They spend the next few minutes switching between cuddling and making out. They don't realise how much time has passed until they break away from kissing when more light entered their little fortress they created. Both boys blush at the sudden intrusion. Someone removed a package from their wall. When they looked out to see who the perpetrator was, their stomachs dropped. There stood Marty, Jonah...and a security guard.

How about you boys get out here?" The older man said. Obviously they complied. They met eyes with Jonah and Marty who looked just as worried as they did. Usually they would be ripping on TJ for catching him making out with Cyrus but being caught by a Costco security guard really puts some things in perspective.

The guard signals for the group to follow. He leads them to a security office and tells them to sit. "We have gotten several complaints about you guys. A woman complained about almost being knocked over with a speeding shopping cart. Reports of running into people as you played tag. These two…" he motions at TJ and Cyrus "destroying a store display and making out behind it. " None of the boys can take their eyes off the floor. Cyrus nervously plays with TJ's hand. "I am going to need you guys to call an adult to come and get you. And you will not be allowed in the store for 2 years."

Cyrus starts to internally panic. His parents can't find out. That is four whole people to be disappointed in him. TJ senses his tension so he squeezes his hand reassuringly. He looks at the other boys. "I will call Amber." Amber is two years older than them so she is 18 and technically an adult. The security guard asks for her number and gives her a call. He explains what happened in the store over the phone. TJ knows she will be annoyed having to come bail him out but also knows she will cover for him.

What he did not anticipate was Amber bringing all the girls with her. He forgot they were hanging out. She walks into the security office, hand in hand with Andi with Buffy and Libby following close behind them, both staring down the respective boyfriends. After Amber talks to the guard, the boys are allowed to leave with them. When they get to the parking lot. Amber says "Go wait in your car, I am going to go do the shopping you should have done so mom doesn't find out what happened." TJ nods having no room to argue.

Buffy adds "Oh if any of you think you are going to live this down, you are mistaken. Who gets kicked out of a Costco?"

The boys do as they were told and wait in the jeep. TJ stares at Cyrus in the passenger seat. "So are you still happy you came?" He asks not expecting an answer.

After a few moments of contemplation, he nods his head. "Yes actually, I am. This was a good day. I just can't believe are banned from a Costco." He laughs. Before long, they are all laughing at how stupid what they did was.

"So…" TJ looks back at Cyrus when they all stop laughing. He has a big frin plastered on his face."What was that about a dumbass trio?"

"Uhhh…" Is all Cyrus can say.

#Andi Mack #dumbass trio #TJ #Marty #Jonah #Cyrus #Tyrus #Costco

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mustangshelby04 · 5 years

Text

Boston Boy - Chapter 7

A/N I’m going to start posting once or twice a week now. Give me time to work on the future chapters and make them great for you. But now, it’s time to meet the Allens!

Kate fidgeted in her seat, waiting for the few cars driving down the road to pass so she could cross and go down her street. Chris was sitting in the passenger seat looking at his surroundings. She lived kind of in the middle of nowhere. There were woods surrounding the road they were about to drive down. She slowed down near the fourth, well spaced out mailbox and pulled into the driveway there.

The brick rancher sat in a large clearing. Where the garage door used to be was a set of dark oak French doors with beautiful stained glass windows in the top half of each. The main entrance to the house was a single door similar to the French doors at the top of a wide porch. It was a wide dark oak and the stained glass was the entire middle of the door and on either side were long, thin stained glass windows. There was a large picture window in the middle of the house with jewel blue and chocolate brown curtains covering it.

Peeking out from those curtains were two dogs that Chris recognized as Denali and Galway. They were barking madly as Kate parked and turned the car off. “Home sweet home.” She said. “We’ll go in my doors here so we can get our bags in safely.” Chris collected his bag and grabbed Kate’s two bags as well. She had her purse and carryon bag and was unlocking the French doors.

“These are pretty.” Chris said, admiring the doors.

“Thanks. I actually picked them out. And the front door. It was a mother’s day present from me, my brother, and my step dad.”

“You’re the only car here. Where is everyone?”

“Work, probably. We got here earlier than planned.” Kate set her purse and carry on bag down on the leather recliner. “Well, this is my little garage apartment.” In the front was the recliner and a matching sofa set up in front of a 50” Samsung flat screen Smart TV. The TV was surrounded by a custom TV center made up of two floor to ceiling bookshelves, a row of cubbies above the TV, and an entertainment center below the TV. The bookshelves were stocked with all kinds of books, photo albums, and DVDs and BluRays. The entertainment stand was neatly organized with a desktop computer CPU, a Playstation 4, a Direct TV box, and a charging cradle for the Playstation controllers. Through the glass doors, he could see more DVDs and BluRays. The cubbies above the TV held knick knacks, stuffed animals, and picture frames.

In the middle of the room were the two large, folding screens with famous landmarks from England, France, and Italy painted on them. They extended from each wall, creating a wall of their own with a large gap in the middle that served as a doorway to the bedroom. Between the screen and the TV center was a small refrigerator and a counter with a microwave.

Behind the screen on the left was Kate’s queen sized bed with her stuffed Thumper sitting in front of the pillows. On the opposite wall from the bed behind the screen on the right was a large, custom closet set up that extended from floor to ceiling. There were small, shallow drawers for jewelry and larger, deeper drawers for clothing on one side. In the middle were two large doors that opened to the wardrobe. On the other side were shelves for shoes. On the top of it were cabinets for storing bags and other things. A folding footstool sat between a small flight of stairs and the shelves so Kate could climb up and collect things from the top cabinets.

The small flight of stairs led to a short hallway with two doors, one straight ahead with a small doggy door and one to the right. The one on the right was Kate’s bathroom. It wasn’t large, but it had a nice floor to ceiling shower, a good-sized vanity and a toilet. The door at the end of the hallway led into the main house. To the left was a step down into a utility room where the washer and dryer was along with a door to the backyard. To the right was the den with a fireplace and a custom built desk that extended across the far wall. There was a large and a small archway on one wall. The smaller archway led to the kitchen while the other led to the living room.

They didn’t make it past the den, though, because Denali and Galway were on them. They begged for love from Kate, rubbing against her and barking. When they noticed Chris, they both abandoned Kate to get love from the stranger in their house. Chris got down on his knees and played with them. Kate watched them for a few seconds before she went to the dining room to see if she had any mail on the table. A wall that stretched halfway across the house separated the kitchen from the living room. The dining room sat at the end of the wall, connecting the kitchen and the living room.

A hallway led from the living room to the three bedrooms and the bathroom. Her parents had the master bedroom, her old room, which was the second largest room, was now a guest room slash office, and her sister Janice’s room was the smallest room. The bathroom was a large bathroom with a stand up shower in one corner and a large, deep Jacuzzi tub in the other corner. There was a long vanity with two sinks and the toilet sat in a space between the vanity and the tub.

“Come on, guys! Go outside.” Kate said to the dogs as she rifled through her mail. The dogs ran ahead to the utility room and bolted out the door into the large, fenced in backyard as soon as she opened it.

“This place is nice.” Chris said behind her. “You grew up here?”

“Yeah. We moved in my sophomore year of high school and haven’t left.” She gestured at the yard where the dogs were running. “This whole area was terrible. Overgrown and there were tree stumps everywhere. My step dad has really fixed the place up over the last fourteen years. The next thing on his honey-do list is the kitchen. Mom wants new cabinets and a new dishwasher along with a new refrigerator. She’ll probably get a new sink and new countertops, too. Complete overhaul. Come on, Gally!” Her Boston terrier ran back in the house while Denali continued running around the backyard. “I don’t like to leave Gally out there. There’s a bald eagle that’s tried to take off with her a few times.”

“Shit!”

Kate picked Gally up and the pooch settled in her owner’s arms cradled against her chest, trying furiously to lick Kate’s face. “I know it’s a felony, but I will kill that bird if it harms one piece of fur on my baby.” She kissed Gally’s nose and set her back down on the ground to follow her and Chris back into Kate’s room. She flopped down on the bed and sighed. “I have missed this bed.” Gally climbed up the pet stairs on one side and marched up to the head of the bed, laying down on one of the pillows. Kate watched her and shook her head. “Spoiled brat.”

Chris sat down on the bed and laid back. “Wow. This bed is comfy.”

“I told you. It’s definitely more comfortable than yours.”

“Well, I still can’t judge that. I haven’t slept in it yet. Or done anything strenuous to test it out.” He rolled up on his side and ran his hand over her ribs. “I mean, we’re alone right now….”

“Travelling doesn’t take it out of you?”

“Are you tired?”

“A little bit.”

“Too tired for….” Chris was cut off by Gally walking up and licking him on his nose. Kate burst out laughing and Gally snuggled herself by Kate’s head. Chris laughed and rubbed the Boston’s belly. “Spoiled brat is right.”

Kate pushed Gally towards the edge of the bed. “Go lay on the couch.” Gally hopped down and trotted over to the couch with a huff. “Am I too tired for what?”

Chris leaned down and kissed her deeply, running his hand up her shirt. He was about to climb on top of her when a loud banging came from her front doors. They both shot up, smacking their heads together in the process. Gally started barking madly at the door, jumping up and down in front of it. A moment later, just as they finished putting themselves together, Kate’s step-dad unlocked the front door and walked into her garage apartment.

“Katie! You’re home early.” He said in his Southern drawl, petting Gally as she jumped up on the recliner to be loved on. “We weren’t expecting you until this evening.”

“Yeah.” Kate smiled at her step-father. “My flight was booked so we took an earlier flight together.”

“Who’s we?” He was looking Chris up and down.

“Papa, this is Chris. Chris, this is my papa Bill.”

“The Boston boy.” Bill nodded, still looking highly suspicious of Chris. “We’ve heard a lot about you. Mostly from her brother.”

“I’ve told you about him.” Kate insisted. Bill just grunted. “Ok, papa, you’re very intimidating. Good job. Chris is intimidated, aren’t you Chris?”

“Yes.” Chris said. He wasn’t entirely lying.

“You’ve done your fatherly duty, now be a normal human being for once in your life and be nice.”

“Where’s the fun in being a normal human being?” Bill asked.

“It’s completely underrated. Try it sometime, you’ll see.”

Bill held his hand out to Chris and Chris shook it, wincing slightly at the pressure the older man was putting on. “I’ve been to prison before, son, and I’m not afraid to go back. Don’t hurt my daughter.”

“Papa! Ok, out. Leave. Goodbye. I’ve got to get unpacked.” Kate hustled her step-father back out the door. Gally followed him out, but he shooed her back inside.

“Call your mother and let her know you’ll be home for dinner…. With a guest.”

“Ok. Love you.” Kate shut the door and shook her head, muttering to herself. “I am so sorry, Chris.”

Chris chuckled, petting Gally between the ears. “It’s ok. Has he really been to prison?” Kate shot him a look that told him her step-father was dead serious about that one. “Oh shit.”

“Don’t worry. Asshole McGhee is still walking this earth. So, you stand a chance against my papa.” Asshole McGhee was the name she’d given her ex that had cheated on her and nearly ruined her life.

“Good to know. Are you sure I shouldn’t get a hotel?”

“I’m sure. It was part of the agreement with my parents when I paid to renovate the garage into an apartment that they stay out of my business. This is my apartment, that’s their house. He doesn’t usually just barge in like that.”

“Extenuating circumstances?”

“Like me meeting someone in Boston on a trip by myself and wanting to make sure I’m not dead or suddenly have a pimp? Yeah. That’s his definition of extenuating.”

“So, you paid to renovate this place?”

“Yeah. I took out a small loan for it. I just finished paying it off earlier this year.”

“What happens when you decide to move out?”

Kate shrugged. “They’ll probably add a small stove and rent it out for more than they’re charging me.”

“They charge you rent?”

“Well, sort of. It’s kind of a roommate set up. I pay a portion of all the bills.”

“Oh. Sorry, I don’t mean to pry into your finances.”

“It’s ok. I’m going to start unpacking.” She handed him the remote. “Make yourself comfy.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Later that evening, Chris was watching a Golden Girls marathon while Kate was stretched out on the couch beside him with her head in his lap. She’d fallen asleep and had stayed that way for almost two hours now. He didn’t mind. He happily stayed still and stroked her hair, running his fingers gently through the golden mass. She hadn’t styled it, so her naturally wavy hair was on display. He decided that he liked it better that way.

A knock at the door in the short hallway disturbed Gally’s sleeping form on the back of the couch. She shot up, barking, and jumped down on Kate’s hip. Kate yelped and curled into a little ball, glaring fiercely at her dog as she ran for the door. She sat up, rubbing her hip, and looked around.

“Ugh, what time is it?”

“About 5:30.” Chris said.

“Wow, I was out.” Kate stood up and went over to answer the door. It was her mother. “Sorry, I was asleep. Gally, hush! It’s just Granny.”

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early. I would’ve come home early, too.” Helena said, hugging her daughter tightly.

“I meant to call you, but I fell asleep. But I’m glad we got here early so I could unpack. Now I can show Chris around tomorrow.” Helena spotted Chris standing up from the couch and let out a startled noise. “Mom, this is….”

“You think I don’t recognize Captain America?”

“This is Chris. Chris, this is my mom, Helena.”

“It’s really nice to meet you.” Chris said, shaking Helena’s hand. “Kat talks about you a lot.”

“She talks about you, a lot, too.” Helena replied.

“Mom!” Kate’s face was turning a deep pink.

“What? You do. How did I not know that your Boston boy was Chris Evans?”

“Quit being rude. And you didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. Also, you don’t pay attention to the internet.”

“I did see a story on Facebook yesterday about Chris Evans being at a game with some blonde girl. I didn’t think for a second it was you.”

“Thanks.”

Helena shrugged. “The pictures weren’t that great and I can’t see great anyway.” She looked at Chris. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Chris smiled. “I know this isn’t the most orthodox thing on the planet, but I really do like your daughter. A lot. I hope that we can get to know each other and I can prove to you that I’ll make a good partner for her.”

Helena nodded. “You’re polite. That’s good. I won’t grill you too hard right now. I think we’ll have time for that later if you’re spending the week. Right now,” She looked at her daughter. “I don’t feel like cooking tonight. Let’s go out somewhere.”

“Oh, I’m tired of eating out somewhere.” Kate said. “I’ll cook, if you want.”

“If you want to, but I’m not helping.”

“You say that every time and every time you wander into the kitchen and nitpick.”

Helena shrugged. “So what are you making?”

“I don’t know. Dinner.” Kate turned to Chris. “Do you wanna run to the store with me and we can pick something out?”

“Sure.” Chris smiled. “That sounds great.”

“Ok.”

“Take your sister, please.” Helena said as she headed back for the main part of the house with Gally hot on her heels.

“What? Why?”

“Because she needs to do something besides work and watch TV.”

“Mom, you have tomorrow off and you can make her do all the things then. I am not spending twenty minutes combing the store trying to find her because she’s roamed off somewhere. I just want to get the groceries and get back.”

“You’re being mean.”

“No. I’m being practical. If you want to eat dinner on time, then Jan stays here.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” Helena disappeared into the hallway and the door shutting came a moment later.

“Sorry.” Kate turned back to Chris. “Jan has this thing where she roams off everywhere we go. It’s a real pain in the ass when she does it at Target or Wal-Mart. I once spent forty five minutes searching for her at Target. And don’t get me started on taking her to the mall.”

Chris shrugged. “I didn’t think you were being mean.”

Kate grabbed her purse off the recliner and pulled her keys out. “Mom is always quick to defend Jan. Especially from me. Like I said, she still thinks I’m that misguided teen who was angry and took things out on my little sister.” She sighed as she opened the front door. “This week is going to be so much fun.”

“I think it will be.”

“You haven’t met Janice yet.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kate had decided on salmon steaks, rice, and a roasted vegetable medley for dinner. She’d had to get a chicken breast for her sister because Jan refused to eat the salmon. Chris sat in the living room talking with Kate’s parents while she cooked. Jan wasn’t very engaged in the conversation. Her eyes were glued to the TV as they usually were. Gally was sitting in Chris’ lap demanding to be petted while he talked. Denali would come over and nudge him for attention, but Gally would manage to get his hands back on her.

When dinner was about ready, Chris offered to set the table. Kate directed him to where everything was located and he kissed her cheek every time he walked by. Helena came in and checked on the food for about the dozenth time, nodding her approval at her daughter’s cooking skills.

“We got pie for dessert.” Chris announced as they sat down at the table. “Key lime.”

“It’s the kind you like, papa.” Kate added.

“I don’t like key lime.” Jan said.

“Then don’t eat it.”

“Kate.” Helena warned.

“What? No one is forcing her to eat the pie.”

Helena rolled her eyes and looked at Chris. “Usually I would ask you what you do for a living, but that seems like a stupid question.”

“Why?” Bill asked.

“He’s Captain America.”

“Oh.”

“You liked ‘Snowpiercer’, papa.” Kate reminded him as she passed him the bowl of rice. “Remember? You watched it a few months ago.”

“That’s the one on the train, right?”

“Yeah.” Chris said.

“So that was you, huh? That was a good movie.”

“Thank you.”

“Mom was a theatre major in college.” Kate said to Chris. “I can’t remember if I told you that.”

“Yeah. You mentioned it.” Chris looked at Helena. “What college did you go to?”

“Southern Illinois University.” Helena said. “They had a good theatre program.”

“Were you on stage a lot?”

“I liked the backstage work more, but I did a few plays.”

“I guess Kat gets her creative side from you?”

“She gets it from both her parents. Her father is talented in his own right.” Bill snorted and Helena shot him a look as he scooped up a large helping of veggies.

“Mom won’t say bad things about my father.” Kate explained, a forkful of salmon on her way to her mouth. “She still thinks it’s wrong to speak badly of him in front of her kids.”

“I’ve got plenty of things to say if you want to hear them.” Bill said, shooting his daughter a mischievous glint.

“You’ll do no such thing, William Allen.” Helena said.

Chris looked over at Kate and she smiled slightly. “I took his last name after I turned eighteen.” She explained. “It used to be Loewenthal.”

“That’s a mouthful.” Chris said, seemingly demonstrating by shoveling a mouthful of rice into his mouth.

“Yeah. People have never pronounced it right.”

“Her father wouldn’t sign the papers to let her change her name when she was younger.” Helena said. “She had to wait until she was old enough.

“Kat told me about everything you guys went through. I’m really sorry that happened.”

“Thank you. So you’ve seen some of Kate’s pictures?”

“Yes, ma’am. She showed them to me in Boston. They’re amazing.”

“She does have a good eye for it. Katie’s always been creative. From the figure skating and the dancing to the plays she did in high school and now the pictures. She really loved to be on stage, though. The military base near here has a playhouse and they put on ‘Cinderella’ last year. She tried out for the lead role and was sure she wasn’t going to get it because she thought she was terrible at the audition. She ended up playing Cinderella every weekend for about six weeks.”

“Do you remember when I did ‘Grease’ that one summer back home in Kentucky?”

“Was that when they condemned the theatre?”

“Yeah.” Kate looked at Chris. “The place was really old and needed to be torn down, but for some reason, they let the theatre company do ‘Grease’. They had marks on the stage where it wasn’t a good idea to stand because you might fall through. And a good portion of the marks we were supposed to hit were right over or right next to the bad marks. The whole play was us hopping around and trying not to fall through the stage while singing.”

Chris laughed. “That must’ve been a sight.”

“I’ve got a video of it.” Helena said. “We converted our old VHS tapes to DVDs about a year ago. I’ll have to dig some out for you.”

“I would love that. Thank you very much, Mrs. Allen.”

“Oh, call me Helena. I feel old when people call me missus.”

“It’s because you are old.” Bill said. “You’re two years older than me, Mr. Allen.”

“I admit that I’m old. Catch up.”

Kate saw Chris smiling at her parents’ banter. She took his hand under the table and he turned that smile on her. “Usually papa isn’t so reserved. Give him a couple of days and he’ll be at the table in just his underwear and turning everything said into a sexual innuendo.”

“It’s a gift my husband has.” Helena said. “Some things he says you just sit there and wonder how he got from point A to point Sex.”

“He also wins the lottery a lot. But only scratch offs. Never the Power Ball or anything.”

“My luck doesn’t work with that.” Bill said. “I don’t know why.”

“Slot machines are goldmines for him, too.” Helena added. “We went to Las Vegas and left with more than we came with. I saved money for the trip and he took twenty dollars of it and paid for the whole trip with that twenty.”

“Nice!” Chris said. “What’s your secret?”

“It’s no secret.” Kate said. “He has a golden horseshoe jammed up his ass. Which I better inherit when you bite it, old man.”

“You’ve got to dig it out if you want it.” Bill retorted. “I’m not getting it for you.”

“I’ll just get the undertaker to haul it out.”

“He’ll probably steal it for himself.”

“Nope. I’ll be there taking pictures.”

“What about your brother? He’s first in line.”

“He makes six figures a year and I’m pretty sure he’s CIA. He doesn’t need a golden horseshoe.”

“Your brother is CIA?” Chris asked.

“I think he is.”

“He’s not CIA.” Helena said.

“He’s secretive about where he goes. He can’t talk about most aspects of his job. And he knows too much about things I can’t explain how he knows about them. He’s definitely CIA.”

“That’s kind of terrifying.” Chris said.

“Right!? I’ve been trying to get him to fess up, but he swears he’s not. I just say the brother doth protest too much.”

Chris looked over at Janice who had been quiet this whole time. “Janice, are you close with your brother?” Janice just shrugged.

“Don’t be rude, Janice. Answer him.” Helena said.

“Not really.” Janice said.

Chris tried again. “Kat says that you like movies. What are some of your favorites?”

“I don’t like superhero movies.”

“That’s not what he asked.” Bill snapped.

“Bill….” Helena started.

“Helena, there’s no reason for her to be so rude.”

Janice let out a loud huff and stood up from the table, storming off back to her bedroom and slamming the door. Helena closed her eyes in frustration and Kate shook her head. “Sorry, Chris.” Kate said. “She’s uh…. Well, I told you she’s a handful.”

Helena started to get up, but Bill stopped her. “No. Let her sulk. We’ve got company and she doesn’t need to be out here if she’s going to act that way.” He looked over at Kate. “The food is delicious, baby. I love it.”

“Thank you.” Kate said, happy that her step-dad had relieved the sudden tension. “I saw the recipe on Pinterest and wanted to try it.”

“You and your aunt.” Helena said. “You’re always on Pinterest.”

“Oh, like you’re not?” Kate shot back playfully. “Don’t forget I’m friends with you on there. I’m pretty sure you have ninety eight percent of the recipes on Pinterest pinned to your food board.”

“Eighty two percent.” Helena said with a laugh. “There’s some on there that are just plain silly.”

“Kat said you learned to cook in France.” Chris said. “That’s really cool.”

“It was one of the many places I learned.” Helena said. “My brother was stationed in Germany and I spent the summer with him a couple of times. I met this old French woman while visiting Paris and she invited me to come to her house because I loved food so much. I ended up living with her for a month while she taught me all kinds of things about cooking and baking.”

“Helena has lived a remarkable life.” Bill said. “But her best moments are when she’s asleep.”

“Bill….”

“Has Katie told you that her mother sleep walks?”

“No.” Chris said.

“Here we go.” Helena said.

“Our dog Ireland used to sleep on my side of the bed and she would nudge my hand to get me to pet her in the middle of the night. One night she nudged me and when I went to pet her, she wasn’t there. I didn’t think much of it and went back to sleep, but she did it again. So I opened my eyes to see her staring up past me with a weird look on her face. I look over and Helena is standing spread eagle against the wall like she’s being patted down by the police. I said, ‘Helena, what the hell are you doing?’ She didn’t even look at me. She just said, ‘Never mind. Go back to sleep.’” Chris started laughing and Bill joined in.

Helena rolled her eyes. “I think they’re making it all up.”

“No. You’ve scared the shit out of me with your sleepwalking.” Kate insisted. “I woke up one night when I felt someone staring at me. You know that creepy feeling you get? Well, I opened my eyes and she was right over me. When I said her name…. Mom, not her actual name…. She said, ‘Don’t fight the nuns. They’re going to kill you.’ Then she just stood up straight and walked out. I was scared to even move.”

Chris’ hand was holding his chest as he laughed. “Oh my god!”

“I was just trying to protect my daughter.” Helena said.

“I’ve been terrified of nuns ever since.” Kate joked. “Thank god it didn’t happen when I was going to Catholic school. That would’ve really fucked me up.”

“I don’t think Katie inherited that from me.”

“I didn’t. I just got the insomnia and the restless legs.”

“I keep telling you to go to the doctor about that.”

“I don’t see how those sleep studies work. I sleep bad enough as it is. Hooking me up to a bunch of machines and filming me isn’t going to make me sleep better. There’s no way the data is accurate.”

“My mom has RLS.” Chris said. “She hated the sleep study they did on her, but the medicine they gave her has helped.”

“Does it make her tired?” Helena asked.

“It knocks her right out.”

“Mine does, too. Katie picks on me at night when we’re watching a TV show and I start falling asleep.”

“It’s to keep you from saying something in your sleep that will traumatize me.” Kate said. She smiled as Chris and Bill started laughing.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris crawled into the bed in just his underwear as Kate finished up in the bathroom. They had stayed up kind of late watching home movies of Kate performing on stage and skating. Watching her skating videos had given him an idea. While Kate was at work Monday, he would have to look into making that idea come true.

Kate walked down the stairs and smiled at him. “That’s a good sight.”

“Hmm?” Chris asked, snuggling deeper into the bed.

“Chris Evans in my bed. I guess Princess Aurora was right.” She climbed in next to him.

“What was she right about?”

Kate pointed at the little wooden sign hanging by the stairs. It had the silhouette of Aurora dancing with Prince Phillip and in pretty scroll letters next to it, it said, “If you dream something more than once, it’s sure to come true.”

Chris chuckled. “Well, we are comparable to Phillip and Aurora. You said so yourself.”

Kate laughed. “Once upon a dream.”

Chris pulled her to him. “What did you dream about me doing in this bed?”

“Oh, a little of this and a little of that.”

He laughed. “You’re quoting the movie.”

“Of course I am.”

“I do love that movie.”

“Me too.”

“So, tell me. What does dream Chris do that I need to live up to?”

“You really want to know?”

“Oh, I really want to.” He nuzzled her just behind her ear, making her sudder.

“Well, in one dream he finds a pair of handcuffs that I own and uses those on me.”

“Kinky. What about specifics? What exactly does he do to you while he’s got you restrained?”

“Hmm…. There’s a lot of teasing with his mouth. Sometimes he has a beard and sometimes he’s Steve Rogers clean. I prefer the beard because it can tickle and scratch at the same time.”

Chris moved her hair away from her neck and started kissing her shoulder and neck. “What about with his hands?”

“Oh, he uses those too. I’m pretty sure there’s not one inch of my skin that isn’t touched by him.”

He reached down as far as he could and ran his hand up her thigh, over her hip, and across her ribcage before cupping her breast as he bit down lightly on her shoulder. “What else?”

“Um….” It was getting hard for her to think clearly with his roaming hands and his erection pushing into her backside. She could feel the slight movements against her as his hips pumped almost imperceptibly. “God…. Uh…. He spent a lot of time between my thighs. Biting and sucking and licking…. Jesus, Chris, I can’t even think right now.”

Chris pulled her onto her back and moved over her, attaching his mouth to her right breast. She let out a moan as one of his hands snaked down her stomach and dipped below her underwear. He made an almost purring noise when he discovered how wet she was for him. His fingers began to lightly swirl her clit, teasing her, as he moved his lips down her body. Before he reached her thighs, he looked up and grinned.

“Hold onto the headboard.” He said, voice husky. “Don’t let go until I tell you.” She reached up and gripped two of the slats of the headboard.

He smiled and went back to kissing, licking, and sucking his way around her thighs as he worked her underwear down her legs. Once they were gone, he spread her legs out and rested them on his shoulders. His tongue flicked out over her folds and she writhed under him. He gently raked his nails on her hips as he gripped them to hold her still. She held on tightly to the headboard as he sent bolts of pleasure throughout her body. Just as she felt the first waves of her orgasm start, he pulled his mouth away. She let out a squeak of disappointment.

“What happens next?” He asked, moving back up her body.

“Uh….” She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. “In that dream…. I don’t know.” He shot her a confused look. “I wake up before the next thing.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to adlib.” He looked at her body appraisingly. “How much flexibility did you maintain from figure skating?”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out.” She smirked up at him and he chuckled.

“Oh, I intend to.” Chris sat up on his knees between her legs and reached behind him to grab her ankles.

Instead of keeping them spread once they were in front of him, he held them together and braced them both on his left shoulder. He leaned forward until her knees were touching her chest. She moaned when he pushed deep inside of her, the angle making her feel full of him. His pace was slow and steady, bordering on torturous. Their grunts and moans were almost in sync with each other. When he wanted to pick up the pace, he sat back up on his knees and spread her legs to either side of him, holding her knees against his ribs. He picked up the pace and was pleased to see that she never let go of the headboard.

“I thought…. you were…. going to…. test…. my flex…. ability.” She said, between thrusts.

Chris grunted and pulled out of her, dropping her legs. “You can let go of the headboard now and get on all fours.” She did as he asked, moving slowly so he could enjoy the show. Once she made it on all fours, he lifted her left leg up behind her and rested her shin on his shoulder. He was impressed that she didn’t even flinch. “How far up can I push this leg?”

“Well, I used to be able to reach behind me and pull it up behind my head. I don’t think it would go that far now, but try for a ninety-degree angle.”

He scooted closer and her leg went up, her toes pointing at the ceiling. He had to lean back slightly to enter her from behind, but when he did, the sensations were incredible. The angle was so different than anything he’d ever experienced before. She’d never tried this position before, either. They both couldn’t hold back the noises that escaped their lips. He felt her flutter around him and then seize down on him suddenly. She cried out into her pillows as he picked the pace up through her orgasm. Her hands dug into the covers and she collapsed down off her hands to her elbows. The new angle pulled him in deeper and soon she was coming again. When the last of her second orgasm began to fade, he felt himself about to go. She squeezed her pelvic muscles and he yelped, spilling himself inside her.

They laid on the bed staring at the ceiling and panting. Both of them were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. When they looked at each other, they both started laughing. He pulled her to him and she laid her head on his chest.

“How’s your leg?” Chris asked.

“Stretched and ready to go.” She answered. “The other one is a little jealous.”

He patted her right leg. “Next time.”

Tag List:

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jamielea81 @southerngracela @kelbabyblue @introvertedmouse @tfandtws @sullyosully @deidrahouseofpain @lovinevans @ajosieface

#Chris Evans #Kate Allen O/C #Chris Evans/Kate Allen #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction

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jesse-mills · 5 years

Text

Convenience Store AU

Quick summary: Jesse dies on the beach and wakes up in a convenience store back near Crestwood. A dimension in which Jesse has sick new tattoos, the OA looks like an actual goddamn angel, French is a nerd ass loser who's been pining for Jesse for like 2 years, and everyone gets to be happy.

[[MORE]]

(apologies for awful formatting, this was so fucking long that I got tired of trying to make it read perfectly.)

ok so after Jesse dies it's just. dark for a long ass time right? but he wakes up to blinding light and it takes a moment for his eyes to focus. his first thought is "is heaven a 7/11?" and his second thought is "OH SHIT OA?!?!?" She found him passed out in the middle of the store aisle when she came in from the back room and after a very confused minute of conversation they realize that oh shit, it's the real OG them from the Crestwood dimension. so OA basically hires Jesse on the spot and Jesse has to help her get Hap (the manager, he's suppressed in this body but still a jackass of monumental proportions) kicked out and sent somewhere else. They do succeed after a few weeks (aka they get everyone to file complaints about him until he's relocated to somewhere out of state).

Jesse, however, has a Hell Of A Lot of new things to adjust to, the first of which being that What The Fuck, he looked in the mirror and he has fucking moving tattoos that Definitely weren't there before!! Turns out this dimension has such a thin membrane between it and the invisible river of the Between, weird ass shit tends to happen around people who have travelled through worlds. Jesse soon finds out that he isn't the only one with weird shit happening to him: the angels from the lab, especially OA, have some definite traditional angelic characteristics. OA has a ton of extra eyes on her face and neck and like. everywhere so she tends to wear gauzy scarves around her neck and ling sleeves everywhere. nothing can really be done about the ones on her face but she doesn't really show her face anywhere anyways so it's not that big a deal for her. Homer works at a patisserie in town and has extra eyes on his arms and back, as well as extra mouths on his hands (he wears gloves during work, don't ask). Rachel works there with him (and yes they're all in a thruple because. Oachel rights yo) and has extra vocal chords as well so her singing sounds absolutely ethereal. (She convinced Homer to hire Buck and Angie to work with him there after the OA told them about them.) Scott doesn't have too many extra weird eyes but his hair grows flowers and though he acts pissy about it he secretly really likes them. He works as the town's electrician and Steve apprentices under him. Renata tours around and always brings them back gifts from places she visits, and has both extra eyes on her arms that become part of her signature style (she claims it's prosthetics for the press) and a second mouth beneath her collarbone hidden under scarves so she can harmonize with herself.

BBA already works at the school and so knows them all already, and she shops at the convenience store for snacks at night during Jesse's shift and so is already close to him. She slowly puts the puzzle together herself, but in a very peaceful, calm manner; basically, she notices that he's acting different but doesn't throw a fuss about it ("I think Jesse's a different Jesse now. Hm. I'll ask if he still likes shortbread next time I go."). Lucky for Jesse, BBA and the angels all kind of adopt him.

Why do they keep working at the store after Hap leaves? a) it pays bills and like. they need to eat. and b) it's something to do, it's a normal part of a normal life that lets them spend time with each other and feel like they can finally live happy lives. Plus, Jesse and OA both desperately want to contact their home dimension and tell the others that they're okay, so the store provides a good space to do that.

and then French walks in the door one night because Olive Garden fired him and he needs to support his brothers and mom, and Jesse's world suddenly becomes a Hell of a lot more convoluted. French is confused when the pretty boy from school he was always too nervous to talk to looks up from the front counter and chokes on his drink; he's even more confused when Jesse stays bright red through their entire awkward conversation of "I need a job, are you hiring?" "UH. we are now. let me go grab the paperwork" (read: gay hyperventilating behind the backroom door for the minutes before grabbing the papers.) French is very concerned when as soon as he signs his name the paper just. crumbles to ash without any warning but Jesse just sweeps it into the bin and says "yeah you're hired, UHHH what hours???? work for you????? actually just come in when it does work and we'll get you started okay goodbye!!!" Of course night shift works best for French so Jesse has a mini conniption when French walks in the next night an hour after Jesse gets there and asks if he can start working Now.

French is a fucking NERD ASS LOSER in this dimension. so he's very confused when after a week of training almost nightly (hey, he needs to provide, yo) Steve, his old bully, walks in and greets him very nicely and apologizes for anything he did in high school (he does not notice Jesse glaring at Steve. he is also not aware of Jesse calling Steve the first night he came in and incoherently rambling for twenty minutes straight before yelling "I'M GAY" and hanging up. Steve was confused because didn't Jesse come out in like 10th grade to him??? he didn't bully French for being gay he bullied him for being a nerd ass loser).

French also begins to notice that things are fucking weird in this convenience store, and by that I mean he walks in one night and Jesse is calmly reading a comic book while one of the freezers is literally emitting fucking fire. ("Jesse. Tell me you fucking realize that THE FREEZER IS ON FIRE." "Yeah, OA said to just leave it. Scott's gonna fix it later" "But. But it's on FIRE." "Yeah lol apparently she's been workin on portals without dying and opened a hell dimenson? haha wack right. Just keep the door closed and it'll be fine.") He ends up calling Steve (who is being almost suspiciously friendly now under threat of bodily harm, and who is genuinely trying to be a better person) to ask if this is normal after Jesse tells very seriously after setting up "wet floor signs" that he should stay away from the soda fountain, OA accidentally fucked with it and it's biting people. (French, talking to Steve over the phone: "Yeah dude and then it just fucking crumbled to ash and he said I was hired. Like what the fuck. What the fuck." "Oh yeah lol apparently her husband's shop does the same thing. Btw tell Jesse to stop hoarding snakes in the cupboards behind the desk bc I'm the one Scott sends to fix that shit." "...........SNAKES?!"

Jesse has a weird thing with snakes in this dimension since he 1) found a weird tattoo of a snake with wings that just roams around his body as it pleases and acts like a pet (yes he named it Ramen Noodle. no he does not have shame.) and 2) realized that he can basically charm snakes just by talking to them. Friend shaped noodles. French walks in one night to find Steve trying to convince Jesse to "take them out of the cupboards" and after French cautiously asks what's in the cupboards Jesse just opens it to reveal like 30 snakes that he rescued from the cold (French yells and almost falls on his ass. Steve just sighs as Jesse picks up a ton of them and lets them curl up around his arms). OA does bi-monthly snake banishing (read: making Jesse go to different animal shelters to give the snakes away during winter or releasing them into the wild in warmer weather). (For his birthday about three months in she and Homer and Rachel find him an albino boa constrictor and Jesse genuinely looks like he's about to pass out from joy. He names it Theo, and for some reason, BBA tears up when he tells her and gingerly pets the snake.)

And the thing is, French is such a skeptic that he just can't bring himself to take Jesse seriously when one night about a month in he locks the glass doors and sits down to tell French very seriously that he's not the original Jesse from this dimension. Jesse realizes that French won't very easily be convinced, so he just does his best to flippantly include it in conversation in the hopes that it will slowly convince him. Even after French notices the moving tattoos (he was staring at Jesse's stomach when he stretched one night and almost yelled when a weird, almost tentacle looking tattoo idly moved across his skin) he can't bring himself to believe it, even when he realizes Jesse's eyes are a odd, almost shifting blue as opposed to the warm brown he searched for in the halls every day of senior year, even when there's fire and weird portals and a manager who has even more eyes than her husband (Homer comes in often with baked goods for Jesse and French. the first time French saw what he thought was a prosthetic eye on the back of Homer's hand wink at him, he almost passed out.). What finally convinces him is when Hap comes back.

Hap' s consciousness somehow came through after almost four months of wondering what was wrong with his old job, and when he comes back, French is in the store early just as Jesse is getting there and Homer is about to pick up OA when Hap comes in and points a gun at him. He's yelling what French thinks is nonsense, about a rose window and Prairie and how she lied to him, but he knows better now, he knows, and French is dead sure he's going to die when OA starts yelling back that he's wouldn't dare harm him or any of her friends. He can see in the reflection of the mirror above the front desk that Hap looks deranged, and it's enough to convince him of two things: one, Hap is about to kill him, and two, Jesse was telling the truth all along. He's about to do something desperate, kick Hap or try to grab the gun, something, when there's movement in the mirror and he spots something heavy swinging towards them. He ducks just as Homer creeps up behind them and brains Hap with a piece of scrap metal. The cops are called and everything is mostly sorted out-- Hap, of course, is going to jail-- but French is still shellshocked from realizing that it's all real, that Jesse died and came back in this dimension and that there are angels that act more like his parents than his mother ever has. It's a shock to him, but he gradually adjusts, and Jesse begins slowly filling him in on their old life in the original Crestwood, how they came together when a once-blind victim of a kidnapping came back with vision and stories, how he died on a beach on the way to San Francisco after overdosing on an old man's pain medication. Eventually, he gets the go-ahead from OA to tell the others and fill them in on exactly what happened. They reunite as they're supposed to and eventually become just as tightly knit as they had been. The Steve from Crestwood eventually joins them and while it takes him some time to adjust, he's so thrilled to have Jesse back and that everything is okay here that he's content.

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blitz-and-hearth · 5 years

Text

I was looking through my wip folders and apparently, I wrote a bit of highschool au Blitzstone? I don’t remember writing it and probably won’t finish it, but what I’ve got is pretty good so I thought you guys might enjoy it

It was a cool but sunny fall day, a nice day, a just lovely day to be spending... In detention. Hearth wasn't too upset over it, he normally spent his weekends sitting bored in the empty classroom. This time it was for being caught smoking in the bathroom when he should have been in math class. Really he should have been kicked out of Valhalla High by now, if he was any other highschooler he would have been. But because his father was the oh so great rich and powerful Alderman he was still here. Their family founded the town and he gave lots of money to the school and blah blah blah. Honestly, he was tired of being told the ways he should act differently because of that. It was useless he knew, nothing he could do would change his father's mind about him. He'd been a deep shame on their family the moment his parents found out he was deaf.

Hearth had still tried to be a good kid for a while in hopes of winning his parent's praise, but when his younger brother was killed by a hit and run driver when they were playing together, he realized he'd never make them like him. He was only a freak and now in their eyes a murder of what had been their "good" son, it was pointless.

So Hearth had swung around the other way, going out of his way to be a troublemaker and bring even more shame to his family. Now at 17 he dressed in dark clothes, fingerless gloves, spiked chokers, knee-high boots, and nails painted jet black. He'd died his blonde hair to pure white and priced his ears, even gotten a few tattoos. He stole beer and cigarettes, banned from every Walmart and corner store around. Doing anything he could think of to look like a punk and piss his father off. Teachers and students alike either hate or envy him, muttering rumors and gossip whenever he passed. They always seemed to forget that just because he's deaf doesn't mean he doesn't know when they're talking about him. Fucking assholes. At least he was alone expect for the teacher this Saturday, who was busy grading homework at her desk. He could just lean back in the chair and doodle for the next two hours. Or at least that's what he thought until he looked up and realized another teacher had come in with a boy he recognized.

Hearth stayed out the social circles, but it was impossible to go to this school and not know Blitzen Gyllen, or Blitz as he went by often. He was the opposite of Hearth, bright and peppy, popular with almost everyone and well liked. He knew more about his mother, she used to run a vast jewelry company and had been very rich and successful.... Had been. Then the scandal came out how she stole all her designs from a poor man who worked under her, who she was also sleeping with. It cost her her business and a good bit of her money. And despite no actual confirmation, it was well known Blitzen was the resulting love child of all that chaos... She worked for Hearth's dad now. Hearth had never actually spoken to Blitzen before though, only having seen him from a distance at his father's parties or around the school. But he knew exactly what the normally well-behaved student was doing here in detention, the whole school had been chattering about it. Hearth didn't know the details, but apparently, Blitzen had been given a dare to prank the principal. So he'd filled the guy's office and car with rubber duckies, floor to ceiling, impossible to enter with how many there were.

No one knew how he'd done it or gotten so many fucking rubber ducks but people had started referring to Blitz as "the duck master." Hearth would admit it was funny just because of how incredibly angry the principal had gotten and yet despite knowing about it he didn't put two and two together that they'd most likely end up sharing a detention at least once with how many Blitzen had gotten for that. Hearth eyed the other boy suspiciously, getting a good look at him up close for the first time. He could see why people liked him, he was handsome, strong jaw with a soft form giving him a friendly look, very beautiful Hearth would admit. He was dressed nice, supposedly made his own clothes. White undershirt with a plump colored felt vest and dress pants in the same purple shade, and light brown pointed shoes. His hair was done in dreads and tied up in a ponytail, and despite being a year younger than him, already had the stubbly start of a beard growing in.

Hearth hadn't realized he was staring till Blitzen turned around and started walking towards him, snapping out of it and quickly looking back down at his sketchbook. He side-eyed him as Blitzen sat at the table next to him. So weird, they were to only students in here and yet he'd sat right next to Hearth, what was this guys game? He ignored him at first, going back to drawing, but after a minute he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to look at him.

"You're H-E-A-R-T-H, right?"

Blitzen signed, bit clumsily with a focused expression, clearly not used to using sign language. Still the fact he knew even that very much surprised Hearth, staring at him with wide eyes before narrowing them again. He was the only deaf-mute in town, and he'd never met Blitzen in person, why would he know sign language unless he wanted something from him. Hearth didn't answer, just nodding as he continued to glare at him.

"It's great to meet you in person, I've seen you before at my mom's business parties. I'm Blitzen Gyllen, as you probably already know"

He said with a grin as he offered a hand to Hearth, who did not take it right away. He didn't know what Blitzen wanted, his mother was poor but not that poor... After a second to consider he took the other boy's hand and gave a small shake. After all, he knew what was up, all these years he'd had many people try to get his family's money through him, and none had ever tricked him, this guy wasn't any different. But he might as well indulge and play along for awhile. Maybe he'll even get some free drinks or a quick fuck out of it.

"I heard about the duck thing, it was pretty funny"

The pale boy signed, and Blitzen took a minute to interpret what he'd said but then grinned when he figured it out

"Thanks! It was my little cousin's boy... erm girl...? well date friend idea, she's much better at pranks then me. But it was really fun to do, I might do more of them if I could get away with it, being in detention often seems pretty boring."

He chattered, Hearth shrugging in response

"Not too bad, especially this teacher, she doesn't give a fuck"

He signed as he glanced over at said teacher, who was currently reading a shitty looking adult romance novel with a shirtless dude and swooning lady on the cover.

"Plus she's hooking up with the gym teacher and leaves after ten minutes to go see him"

He added as he looked back at the other boy. Blitzen was frowning with concern

"That seems really irresponsible for a teacher..."

He whispered back. Hearth snorted at that thought

"Who cares? Just means we can leave as soon as she's gone"

Hearth responded, huffing as he rolled his eyes. No surprise there, what a goodie two shoes. The duck prank was clearly a one-time thing

"You can stay here for the two hours if you like but I'm leaving as soon as she's gone, with you or not, teacher's pet"

Blitzen blinked at that and flushed red, apparently not appreciating the insult

"I'm not a teacher's pet just because I do well in school! Fine, I'll come with you, I'll show you what kinda "bad boy punk," or whatever you guys are calling it, I can be"

He said with a determined look, mumbling angrily to himself some things Hearth couldn't catch, arms crossed and pouting. Hearth rolled his eyes again. This guy was trying so hard to be his friend. But then he grinned as a thought struck him. This dude was obviously trying to get at his families money but was a clean-nosed kid who stayed out of trouble, Hearth could have some fun seeing how far he could push him. Maybe today would be fun after all...

Right on time five minutes later the teacher glanced at the clock and stood, putting her book in her bag.

"I have to take care of something, you two behave while I'm gone."

She told them and then was gone. As soon as the door closed, Hearth hopped up, stuffing his sketchbook into his backpack and walking over to the window. Blitzen followed him curiously, watching with a frown as Hearth pushed one open

"What are we doing, why can't we just walk out the door?"

He asked in confusion

"Its more fun being sneaky"

Hearth signed back with a shrug before climbing into the window frame

"Think you can keep up fancy pants?"

He added before jumping out onto the grass below. Blitzen's face burned red again, rising to the challenge and immediately hopping out of the window to land next to him, straightening up and brushing himself off, giving Hearth a look that said "bring it on"

"So, what are we going to do?"

#blitzstone #mcga blitzen #blitzen x hearthstone #mcga hearthstone #blitzen son of freya #highschool au #fanfiction #fanfic WIP #myfanfics

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etherian-affairs · 5 years

Text

New celebrations and old issues aka, I made a fic about two OCs Jim, from HR and an OFC

(Submission, A Jim from HR fanfic oh my God. @helilart look at this.)

New celebrations and old issues

A short story about a genetically enhanced Horde administrator and the tired planetary advisor he employs getting ready for a party.

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

Year 2068 Horde Planet - 28B-0003 - Tellus

“Jimndak, sir?” the assistant intoned, not even trying to keep her annoyance and exhaustion out of her voice this time. They had been at this for well on four and a half hours now. “I really don’t see why we’re still shopping, you already have several nice dresses.”

Here, it turned out, was another very exclusive and high end clothing boutique deep in the Old City. One of Jimndak’s favorite boutiques and the very few that knew of his body dimensions on hand.

A low groan was heard from one of the dressing stalls and the door to it opened, revealing its occupant. The creature that revealed itself was definitely not of this world originally. At seven and a half feet tall, with dusky blue skin and a stubbed nose and long ears like that of a bat, Jimndak cut a terrifying figure. The grey, skull-like markings along his face and sharp, talon-like hands only added to that.

The gorgeous dress the creature was wearing and how well his body wore it, did absolutely nothing to contradict that first impression of fear. The attitude the alien displayed next, however, would change that.

“Oh come on, Mira.” Jimndak whined, hands on his hips and now pouting. “You love dress shopping with me.” His deep voice was tinged in exhaustion too and his normally toussled mohawk was drooped with sweat. Mira had watched her administrator all day and his near manic actions were startling to say the least.

While normally active, Jimndak wasn’t one to exhaust himself like this. Not without reason.

“I do love shopping trips with you.” Mira assured, relaxing deeper into the seat to rest her sore back. “But not one that makes me go all across town and takes several hours. Besides, you haven’t told me why we’re going to great lengths in finding the "perfect evening gown”, as you put it, in the first place.“

—————-

A few hours earlier–

Half a world away from the Capitol and the Space Dock, the Old City was a quiet respite from the hustle and bustle the Capitol City teamed with. The older buildings were repaired years ago, verdent gardens and winding parks growing alongside them. The people, her people, living and playing almost as easily as they did before the Horde came and claimed their world.

She, and the other Planetary Advisors before her, had made sure of that.

They parked their Mothership far away and had taken a hovercraft to reach their destination, in an attempt to keep the locals from being frightened. But the Supplanter’s large size and tall, angular design made it impossible to be unnoticeable. The vessel floated next to a steep mountain range several dozen miles away from the Old City, glittering in the evening sun and its vertical engines glowing a deep purple while in idle.

At one and a half miles in height and nearly a quarter mile in length, the omnious Mothership dwarfed everything in the area except for the mountains it was parked next to. Even though its main armaments hadn’t been fired in over a decade, it was created to dominate. To control everything in its path and to dole out punishment if desired by its commander.

Again, there was an attempt to try and be inconspicuous with the thing, but it was an admittedly poor attempt on their part.

So the atmosphere within the city was tense, at first. But after a while things went back to normal. Or as normal as things could be with a warship hanging around.

"Do you think we should have parked the ship…behind the mountains?” Mira questioned, grimacing at their ship’s poor attempt at blending in with its surroundings. The floating skyscraper stood out from the jagged and natural peaks of the mountain.

They just exited their hovercraft when they noticed just how conspicuous the Supplanter was. And honestly, Mira wasn’t suprised in the slightest when her travelling companion didn’t give a damn about it when he answered back.

“Too late now, I’m not going back.” Jimndak shrugged, before walking away. “This is only our first stop of the day, so we best get a move on.”

“How many more are we going to have and why are we doing this?” the assistant asked suspiciously, looking back at the administrator with a slight glare. “You only said we’d be dress shopping.”

“I’m going to find the perfect evening gown, amongst other things, and you’re going to help.” Jimndak proudly told her, his eyes and teeth glowing a deep magenta as he pulled his assistant gently into the first store. “I’ll tell you more soon enough.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Mira mumbled to herself as she was dragged along into the store. The surprised gasps of the other shoppers greeted them both as they entered and Mira sighed deeply. Thanks to this impromptu visit, no one in the area had been alerted by their arrival ahead of time.

Today was going to be a long and tedious one, she just knew it.

———————

Present time–

“So, please Jim, tell me what’s happening.” Mira lightly demanded, sitting up in the plush chair to look up at him better. “You’ve been going at this nearly all day and you still haven’t told me what’s this is all about.”

The Horde Administrator looked down at his assistant, ears tilting in several directions in an attempt to hear any eavesdroppers. Jim already knew it wasn’t really needed since all the shoppers and many of the employees left the shop just as quickly as he and Mira had entered. He sighed heavily before taking the seat next to his advisor, almost sprawling in the chair, not caring about who might see him in this compromising position. Didn’t really matter, the only other person here besides his advisor, was the shop owner in his office.

“There’s ah-” Jim stuttered, the words difficult to say. The Horde Administrator looked at the ceiling for answers, naturally finding none. He knew about his assistant’s dislike of Horde social gatherings and he knew she wasn’t going to enjoy hearing about this one either. Truth be told, he wasn’t looking forward to it either.

“There’s a Queen’s Ball happening in less than thirty days. I was sent word of it yesterday.” He finally spat out, looking back at his advisor’s face once he was finished. The way her dark skin paled and how shaky her body became, Jim knew he had to clear up what the actual Ball meant, and quickly.

“Does that mean-” Mira whispered, her throat now becoming tight and dry. Her stomach already churning in fear.

“No!” Jim nearly yelled and winced at the frightened jolt his advisor had thanks to his too loud voice, his ears now drooping. The Administrator had to reassure his advisor soon, or else she was going to have a panic attack.

“No.” Jim began again, quieter and calmer this time. Jim sat up in his chair and turned his body towards Mira, lightly grasping her hand, knowing it would help her. He didn’t understand why it helped, this wasn’t covered in his programming and training, but it usually worked when his advisor was having an episode.

“It’s not like the Conqueror’s Parade. Lord Mirdak will not attend this function. As far as I know he’s still several hundred thousand quadrants away in the Delphiatmo Galaxy.” Jimndak explained. “The Ball is one of Queen Eldara’s grand parties she has every few years.”

“And why haven’t I heard about this until now?” his advisor asked, her voice stronger but hands still slightly shaking. “This is her planet. I thought she only came when HE came too?” Lord Mirdak conquered the Tellusian system, but it was Queen Eldara who ultimately controlled it. Horde Generals always moved forward in their conquest.

Queen Eldara liked pretty things and Tellus was a gorgeous planet. Naturally she had to have it and requested the world for herself.

“The Queen specifically asked for your presence this time.” Jimndak replied, still petting his advisor’s hand. “She’s been curious as to why you’ve lasted this long as a Planetary Advisor.” At five years and counting, Advisor Mira was one of the longest lasting Administrative Advisors Tellus ever had. Most of the others lasted two years at best, before burning out and walking away.

“I have a job to do and I’m planning to keep doing this until I die one way or another.” Mira stated, her eyes now looking at her Administrator, the hazel colored iris’s burning with some eternal flame. “I don’t see how that’s noteworthy.” Her job was to protect her planet and was going to do that with the only resources avaliable.

The Horde Administrator gasped at the vibrancy of his Advisor and he had to swallow a few times before he could speak again. There was a reason he made her his Advisor. Why she grew into someone he could actually call a companion.

“Th-the Queen does things that are only known to her. She’s…mercurial and hard to read on most occassions.” Jimndak professed, his knowledge of his direct boss just as poor as everyone elses.

“Do I really have to go?” Mira ventured to ask, knowing there wasn’t a way out of an apparent Queen’s Summons. The narrowed brows and deadpan look her Horde Administrator gave her answered that question.

“Ok , fine, I get it I have to go. But what am I gonna wear?” Mira queried. “I’m probably not allowed to wear just my work clothes, right? Just come waltzing in the Queen’s throne room wearing a shirt and pants. Ha! Then you would be needing a new Advisor.” She chortled, laughing at her own poor joke. It was terrible, but it made her feel better.

Jimndak perked up at her question, ignoring the bad joke, and stood Mira up along with himself and guided her to another section of the boutique. The new wing was full of suits, all in different cuts and colors. It wasn’t something Jimndak was fond of, but his Advisor was always a fan of pants and layers.

“I know you can’t choose to not go to the Queen’s Ball, but you can choose what to wear.” Jim reasoned, gesturing to all the suits Mira could pick out. “We have thirty days to find appropriate clothing and get them done to our specifications. So, take your time.”

“…I really don’t know what to say.” Mira whispered, in awe at all the different types of suits she could see, and imaging herself in nearly all of them. She tightened her grip on Jimndak’s hand and made the Horde Administrator look back at her.

“Thank you.” she smiled, feeling a warm blush move across her face. It was strange to her but it felt right.

“I’m glad you feel that way.” Jim said back, feeling an odd sensation of heat on the edges of his ears. Normally a sensation like this would have startled Jimndak, but now, he liked the warmth.

They both hoped the other didn’t know what that meant and slowly let go of the other’s hand, with Jimndak looking to find the store owner and leaving Mira to find the perfect outfit.

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

Hope you and Helilart enjoy what I wrote. It was actually a lot of fun and I’m probably gonna write more.

:) love, Bad Ass Anon

======

I’m losing my mind.

In a good way.

#jim from hr #my badass submitting friend #oh my god #holy shit #submission

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

The Grind- Chapter 22

(gif by @vanessacarlysle)

All my perpetual fretting over Tia’s reaction to the news of my reconciliation with Colton was all for…well…. It was all 100% necessary. She yelled phrases such as “if you wanna let the asshole back in your bed, you can clean up the mess he’s gonna make,” and “what did the dickhead do to convince you?” Both valid, however brutally honest they may have seemed. I made up my mind not to push it on her just yet, but to tip-toe through the tulips, if you will, until she warmed up to him. The two of them were quite similar in more ways than one, so they were bound to fall into at least a civil relationship sooner or later. Or, there unpredictable, combusting similarities would eventually just explode like the boom of a nuke.

As for progression on the Ritter/Elliott home front, things were moving along nicely. We were back to our morning coffee routine at The Grind, and our running schedule had been carefully decided for Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. One of those particular Sunday workouts had navigated us to the new home Colton had purchased as of late, so he could give me the tour. He’d met me at my apartment that morning, carless, but I hadn’t considered where he’d began his run from.

He’d moved in a little over 5 months ago, and judging at first glances the deposit was heavy for a place like this. The brick front, two story structure must have been newly built on the street because the miniscule grassy path he did have in his side yard, was just ever so slightly sprouting from the clumpy, muddy surface. He led me up a black painted front porch through the front door, seemingly eager to show off his purchase from a successful years earnings.

“Home sweet home. Here we are!” He remarked before breaking the plain into his den. “Whatddya think?”

I thought it wasn’t the place I pictured him in, for starters. Not in pessimistic manner or anything, the space was merely more modern, and suburban for what I imagined his quarters to be like. The cabinets of a kitchen just to the right of the main entrance, were bright white, and stealthy black appliances accentuated more bleach white on the walls. Upon trailing deeper into the area, we entered a hardwood floor living room, where the navy of his leather couch shined under the natural light blazing in from a large window.

“It’s super nice, Colt! You keep it so… clean.” Seriously, there wasn’t a stich of the rug out of place. No molding take-out boxes on his countertops, or discarded shoes strung wildly about.

“Give it time,” he pointed at me with a wide smile. “I ain’t been here long enough to destroy it yet.”

“Don’t expect me to come over and clean the place, mister. This girl is no maid,” I said overlapping my arms in a forewarning.

“You could be. Hey, we could get you one of those little outfits and everything,” Colton said wagging his eyebrows in suggestion. “I’m gonna go shower real quick, then we’ll take the bike back to your apartment. Just hang out here, and give me 20. Unless of course, you’d like the tour of my shower too..”

Okay, yes please! I need to get a good luck at the tub. Inspect the plumbing, and the drains or whatever..

“I don’t have a change of clean clothes, silly. But, you get all squeaky clean, then I’ll take you on the tour of my new place. The bedroom is to die for...” He dropped his head back in a cantankerous huff as if I was torturing him for my own pleasure.

While he left me unsupervised, fidgeting on the couch, I decided some friendly, not at all psychotic girlfriend snooping would be harmless. Wandering aimlessly in my sock feet about the sitting area and kitchenette, something in particular sparked my interest plastered on the double doors of his refrigerator. In carefully executed newspaper snippets, were all of my published works from the last three years held up on display by small, coinlike magnets. One piece I’d written on an injured All-American local boy who had withdrawn his commitment to Pitt due to apparent substance issues. Various tidbits from the usual Steelers coverage, and my article from his fight with Mendez.

Thin, chalky newspaper nearly covered the entire spread of the left side freezer door. He appeared to have saved nearly every published work that had my name attached to it. What made the gesture even more monumentally romantic, was that The Pilot wasn’t available for subscription, nor a newsprint you could grab at any local convenient store on your morning milk run. It was only available for purchase at two outdoor newsstands in the city, one being a small cart on the sidewalk at the front entrance of our main office. The other was easily a 20-minute commute from any of the local businesses he frequented. Neither spot being one he’d cross by coincidence on his morning jog through downtown, or even the closest grocery store, or Mac’s. Meaning the man had made a specific trip, every Thursday morning to spend $3.75 on a paper that he could’ve searched the internet for. I sketched a feathery finger over the printed words, hearing a single dolloped tear drip below at my feet to the crisp tile of his kitchen floor. He really had never sincerely left me, just like he said only a handful of days ago.

“There’s more in an old cardboard box on the rack under the coffee table.” His stealthy, barefoot approach behind me was completely undetected, or I had just been so preoccupied with my discovery that any background noise was hushed.

I faced him, startled, carelessly forgetting to wipe the still running stream of tears, and hiccupped to repress audibly weeping.

“Oh, woah. Woah, baby. Hey, what’s wrong?” Colt stepped once to reach me, and cloaked me into the embrace of his grey tee, blotched with undried remnants of his shower. He placed both hands to my cheeks, leaving my face trapped between his scuffed, worked palms. Eyes searching over my face, like he was looking for the reason of my tears written somewhere across my forehead.

“I’m fine, seriously. It’s nothing.” I nearly snorted to sniff the running of my nose. Yeah, that was convincing. He’ll be right off your back now.

“Talk to me, Livvy. What’s goin’ on, huh? I know tears when I see ‘em. Especially yours.”

“You did this? You kept them? All, of them?”

A hesitant, “U” shape danced over his lips at my question. “Of course I did, babe. Well, I almost missed one week, but I told the guy at the stand I’d give him 20 bucks if he could get me a copy.”

It drew a laugh from both of us, mine still mixed with some joyful tears.

“It’s got your name on it, Liv. Hell, I woulda paid all the money in my wallet if you had written the alphabet down and had it published. I told you once I was proud a’ ya’, and I meant it.”

“I just didn’t… I never thought… I didn’t know you cared this much. I’m surprised you went through that trouble, especially since we weren’t even together for over half of these.” I looked back for the tenth time over the collection marked with my signature.

“I think that’s when I started to care so much. When we weren’t together, I mean. Because y’know, that’s the weird, twisted fucker I am,” he said rolling his eyes.

His hands departed from my face, and one was now pinching the bridge of his masculine nose in frustrated contemplation. I didn’t see the normal abundance of equanimity in his eyes now that normally dwelled there, and I was well aware that he was struggling for the words he sought. “I’m a head case, Liv. I find the love of my life, and talk to her like dog shit, because that’s obviously what a sensible man would do? God… What fuckin’ sense does that make?”

“Honest? It makes perfect sense, actually.” I comforted him, trying to distinguish the fires of aggravation, and self-loathing I could see kindling behind his eyes. “It’s the typical reaction of a man who’s never been in love before, and doesn’t have a damn clue how to handle all the things his feeling all of a sudden.”

“I know exactly how t’ handle it now though.” Colton said snatching me like a flimsy sack of potatoes into his grips, and reaching for a sly kiss.

When his arms outreached though, one of the tattoo additions I had been suspicious of when we bumped into each other at the Temple that fateful day, revealed itself like a shiny penny catching the beams of the sun. Carefully placed on the tender, hairless skin of the underside of his bicep amongst his dedication to the Andy Warhol bridge, and a Latin phrase “Fortis Passioni deditus” translating to “strong willed”, was a small 21 needled in varsity print.

I immediately locked a grip around the evidence in question, raising it further into the light to investigate whether my eyes had been viciously deceiving me. He didn’t dispute, either from downright perplexity, or for the simple fact that he knew exactly what had won my attention and wanted me to snoop it out a little more closely.

Once I had wiped sternly over the numbers with a thumb, seeing they were indeed permanently etched onto his smooth skin, I looked intently upward to his waiting face. I wanted to smile in cheesy satisfaction, I wanted to cry in earnest adoration, and I wanted to claw the very ink out of his skin as backlash for his silly, erratic decision. But no, not really. The sensible, rational Liv rallied admirably to find a way to veto what he had done and hammer him with venomous disapproval. Thankfully, my fanatical love for the man eclipsed the once “safe” nature I carried, and all I wanted to do was fall at his feet.

“Took ya’ long enough, 2-1.” He smiled barely showing a top row of teeth.

“Wh..when?” I tripped over my tongue.

“Few months after the Mendez fight, I think. Was gonna put it on my chest, next to ma’s date of remission. But my guy down at the parlor said here looked better.” The man explained so coolly as if a shrine to my basketball number, and his pet name for me drawn onto his flesh was just something people did so commonly. Seriously, it sounded as if he was just reading off the lottery numbers in the Sunday paper.

“A few months? So, you did this after you dumped me? We weren’t even together and you got this tattoo?”

“Are you mad? Like…seriously upset with me, Liv? I mean, yeah, it was a little reckless, but that shoudn’t surprise you, baby,” he snickered. “But I knew I’d get you back, Livvy. Or I was gonna damn die tryin’. The way I saw it, it would either end up being something meaningful to our story that we could tell our babies in 10 years. Or, if I didn’t win you back, I’d have to look at it every fuckin’ day and think of the colossal mistake I made.”

10 years? Babies? DON’T FAINT. DO NOT.

“Lucky for you then, huh? Your plan played out for the better, I suppose.” I stretched on my small toes to pat my nose to his.

“So, you like it then?”

I didn’t bother to reward him with praise, instead just sucked a hearty kiss from the thin part in his opened mouth, humming sensually.

“Colton?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Take me to bed. Now.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

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permearee · 5 years

Note

HA all the symbols

🍰 - What is their favorite type of dessert or sweet?

this could end up being confirmed otherwise with canon but… he’s not crazy about sweets. he doesn’t dislike them but he doesn’t really crave sugar. he likes desserts that are less sweet. so cheesecakes or fruit-based desserts. he prefers savory foods.

🐢 - What type of animal would they keep for a pet?

he would love a dog. like maybe a medium to large dog? he’d love any pet unconditionally. imagining him with a shibe inu is… good wholesome content.

🐙 - They are crossing the ocean. What are the circumstances and how did they get there?

he’s probably going to that big hero exhibition or traveling to learn more and do internships elsewhere. he wouldn’t necessarily do that now given his circumstance and he wouldn’t want to leave tamaki but those are some options. he’d just take a flight, i’m sure.

🌎 - If money were no object, where would they live and what would they do with their life? (Ex: entrepreneur, playboy, philanthropist, etc)

ah, he’d just be a hero. philanthropist is definitely most like him. he would love to just have a very successful agency that secures the safety of the country first and foremost. ( maybe also use some of that money to buy him and tamaki a nice place to live and get their marriage started? cause that’s definitely going to happen. )

🎂 - Do they celebrate their birthday?

of course. he’d like to celebrate it with deku sometimes as well.

🎓 - Are they well-educated?

he does his best… he has all the opportunities to be well-educated, so yes. he’s just not doing great in the actual grades department but he’s quite intelligent in other ways.

📬 - A mysterious letter has just been found in their mailbox. How does your character react? Who would it be from?

if it was suspicious he would be pretty hesitant to open it and take certain safety precautions before opening it. it could be from his family though. maybe tamaki did something nice for him? maybe izuku decided to send him a letter instead of a text? hopefully, it’s not from a villain…

⌚ - Is your character punctual or procrastinator?

he can be both. he takes his responsibilities very seriously but he can procrastinate pretty hard on school work. his mind is in a million places at once…

💰 - Your character just found a fat sack of gold on a bench. What do they do with it?

he would be suspicious about it but would likely ultimately take it to the authorities. likely, it was stolen from somewhere/one and needs to be returned or maybe someone is looking for it.

👙 - Is your character trendy or do they just not give a damn?

he thinks he’s pretty trendy. he doesn’t go out of his way to follow new trends, mostly just putting together what’s currently in stores. his style can be quirky but it typically works well.

🎠 - Your character is at the carnival. What kinds of rides or games do they check out to entertain themselves?

all rides. he likes all rides. he likes the classic cute ones like ferris wheels and merry go rounds but also loves the thrill of the big rollercoaters. he would also love the strength testing games. he’s not a mean guy but he likes to flex… he also likes to win tamaki prizes.

🔮 - Your character is having their future told by someone pretty shady. Do they call the fortune teller out or just roll with it?

gosh… he used to work under a fortune teller of sorts and he’d have mixed feelings about hearing anything from anyone else. he’d probably just be polite and then move on and try to ignore the sadness in his heart. izuku’s already proven that the future is never set in stone anyway.

🎃 - What is your character’s favorite holiday?

he likes all holidays! christmas and new years are his favorites even though he doesn’t love the cold. there’s just so much positivity in the air during that time.

🎶 - What would your character say about your personal taste in music?

he’s fine with it too. he likes the rock and alternative i listen to more as well. but he likes some good cheesy pop music too, something he can loudly sing along to lol. rip tamaki…

💒 - Does your character want marriage or a lifelong commitment?

yes! i mean.. he’s not going to force it on anyone but yes. he wants a home and possibly a family and a happily ever after.

♓ - Hey baby, what’s your sign? What would your character’s zodiac sign be and what qualities do they carry to make them fall under that sign?

he’s a cancer and in some ways i think he suits the sign but in other ways not so much. he’s pretty boisterous for a cancer but he’s loyal and empathetic and has an off beat sense of humor lol.

🚼 - Does your character have or want kids?

he doesn’t have any right now unless you count eri. kids are a possibility with him for sure. he wants to raise and nurture someone anyway. if they aren’t his own children, that’s fine too.

⚠ - What has your character almost done that made someone talk them out of or convince them not to do it?

yes, he’s definitely been talked out of doing dumb shit by tamaki in their years of friendship. he’s probably been talked out of beating bullies up and skipping class among other things.

♿ - Is your character in some way handicapped? (This includes physical, emotional, and mental.)

he’s quirkless at the moment so that’s kind of one but other than that, no.

💊 - Is your character on medication? If so, why?

nope.

🌞🌜 - Is your character an early bird or night owl? What makes them that way?

a bit of both. he likes to sleep in but he also likes to not waste time on sleep so there are many days of him not getting much sleep in general.

📚 - Does your character read?

not really. not a lot, at least. like of course he reads but it’s not notable and it’s not a hobby unless you count comics. he does like to read comics.

📓 - If your character keeps a journal, what is the most secret thought they keep in it?

he doesn’t. he could never keep up with something like that.

📰 - An obituary for your character was found in the local paper this morning. What did it say?

i’m still not good at these things... but it would probably be one of those positive obituaries that points out all his achievements and good traits, something to inspire hope and bring happiness to people around him. it would definitely be sad but he would want it to be positive.

💢 - What frustrates your character more than anything?

not a lot really gets under his skin but injustice is something. disrespect. lack of humor. school work and studying is really frustrating.

✌ - Your character just made a trespass against someone else, how would they go about righting it given the chance? Or would they at all?

he definitely would try to make things right. humor is his go-to as well as probably being honest about his mistake. he’s a good guy but sometimes his approach to things is a bit odd to most people. he’d lead with making the person smile ( hopefully ) then genuinely apologize.

🍴 - What is the absolute worst meal your character has ever eaten? Were they verbal about it or did they just not say anything?

he definitely didn’t say anything. he just ate it and tried to be nice about it. little white lies aren’t bad but he’s not really a picky eater. he likes to try most things.

🍜 - Carnivore/Pescatarian/Vegetarian/Vegan/Other? What kind of diet does your character have?

again, a normal omnivorous diet lol. he leans more towards nutrition with lots of protein and health benefits though to keep his body in top condition. he didn’t get as big as he is on accident.

💋 - Your character was just kissed by someone they can’t stand. Why and how did it happen?

well, he’d be extremely confused. mirio’s heart only belongs to one person but depending on the approach, his reaction could range between politely declining and determinedly declining. it’s difficult even for him to be kind to someone who forces themselves on him.

😇 - What was your character’s last good deed?

he does all sorts of good deeds regularly! he probably held the door open for another student or professor or something like that.

😁 - Someone just tripped and fell in front of your character. Do they laugh or help the person up?

he would definitely help them up. he might laugh but it would be good-natured. like, ‘oh geeze. it’s one of those days, huh? let me help you up. there you go. yes, yes.”

😨 - Your character just broke wind in public. Do they try to hide it or own up to it?

he would own up to it. he would make a whole scene about it probably, try to turn it into something everyone can laugh about. farts are funny and normal, why should they make things awkward?

😍 - Your character’s lust object just passed right by them. How awkward do they get as they try to make conversation?

mirio doesn’t really lust after people... but in a situation where he wasn’t already close to the person who he’s interested in, he’d just introduce himself and make small talk, try to get their number or something. mirio isn’t really ever awkward, or he doesn’t feel awkward. i’m sure he makes some people feel awkward though...

😒 - “Ugh! Not him/her/them/it again.” How does your character react to annoying people?

he reacts to them about the same as he reacts to every other acquaintance level person in his life. he’s not going to pick fights like that.

😂 - Your character is moved to tears. What’s a kindness that another showed to them?

he’s less likely to be moved by someone’s kindness towards him than seeing others show kindness towards someone else. it’s just more inspiring that way. that’s not to say he isn’t moved in certain situations, like, he’ll definitely cry when he gets married or something.

😄 - What has ever made your character laugh so hard that they almost passed out?

lots of things. night eye’s jokes made him laugh a lot. he finds tamaki can be pretty hilarious when he wants to be. it doesn’t take him much to laugh.

😈 - What’s your character’s favorite cuss word?

he doesn’t curse a lot... probably ‘shit’ or ‘ass’. he uses them in weird ways though. like, ‘ah ass,’ if something goes wrong.

😏 - Is your character having a dirty thought right now?

no. he’s just chillin’.

🍺 - Cheers! What is your character’s favorite alcoholic beverage? What was the last thing they got smashed off of?

he likes beer, mostly imported. sake is a simple go-to as well. he doesn’t really get smashed.

💫 - Your character is suffering memory loss after being knocked unconscious. What happens afterwards and how did it happen?

it probably happened during a fight or maybe and enemy’s quirk. i can only imagine how difficult his life would be after losing his memory. he has really good, close friends and it would be really heartbreaking if he forgot them. if he had his quirk, he’d probably have to relearn all that which would be a pretty big set back. i should hope someone would be looking for a solution.

💡 - What is the best idea your character ever had?

i’ll say sacrificing himself to save eri. it didn’t work out for him but it’s exactly the kind of man he wanted to be.

💍 - Does your character wear any type of jewelry?

nah. maybe a necklace or ring on occasion but with his quirk... he’d lose any jewelry pretty quickly every time he used it which is unfortunate, because he’d rock an earring or two if he could.

⛪ - Is your character religious or spiritual in anyway?

not really. there are certain things he believes in but those are more principles than religion or spirituality.

🎱 - Your character and a talking raccoon walk into a bar…

they’re also probably working on a strange job together and are probably having a grand old time. i’m just picturing him and rocket hanging out and it’s awesome. they’d have a great time.

📼 - An interrogation tape emerges regarding a recent interview with your character. What are they being questioned for?

well, he’s either being interrogated because that’s what happens if you’re a hero on the job and you need to be interviewed about the case but other than that made he was getting up to some dumb mischief. he wasn’t always a goody-two-shoes. maybe beat up some bullies or used his quirk outside of school without a license.

👟 - Is your character into personal fitness? If so, what’s their exercise routine?

YES. he does all of the things. he works extremely hard to keep his body in the best shape possible, especially now that he’s quirkless. a lot of his routine is weight training but of course he’s got endurance and cardio in there. he has to have those things too. he does some kind of exercise everyday, goes to the gym every day if he has time. he’s got good recovery at this point so he takes few rest days.

📺 - What would your character’s favorite TV show be? What’s their favorite genre?

his fave genre is definitely comedy. he’s a solid fan of rom coms too. big action flicks are fun too. classic westerns. i think he probably watches a lot of music related television as well and those comedic japanese variety shows. he’d love to be on one someday.

🍀 - Does your character carry a good luck charm? Do they believe in luck?

again, he can’t really carry anything around with him... he believes that luck is a factor in life sometimes for sure, it’s hard to ignore it but he’s a strong believer in making your own luck too.

#oevvre #replies.*#hc.*

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