— an invincible fanfic // mark grayson is on thin fucking ice.
synopsis: dating a superhero wasn't easy, especially when they got on their knees and begged so well.
wc: 4.1k
cw: NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL. SLIGHT ANGST AND SM*T. MDNI. NSFW CONTENT AHEAD.
includes: kinda pathetic mark?? like mark is a BEGGER and a YEARNER and y'all argue. cannon-compliant relationship problems. dirty talk. f*ngering. or*l (f receiving). cunn*lingus. multiple org*sms (f receiving). overst*mulation. marathon s*x. squ*rting. piv. cre*mpie. tell me if i missed any :p
old m.list | new m.list
you first broke up with mark grayson after 2 months and 17 days of being together. you got together with him a month later, when he confessed his identity to you and begged you to take him back. you broke up with him again 6 months and 15 days later... well, err, no. you were about to break up with him but that day never came. you couldn't. not when mark grayson was so good at making up.
now, you had been dating for two years, 7 months and 2 days.
you knew dating a superhero wasn't easy. i mean, sure, him blowing you off to save the world stung but it was bearable. him having this huge secret that you had to protect with your life weighed on you but again, bearable. what wasn't bearable were the constant injuries - mark turning up with a black eye. or two. with bruised cheeks. with long gashes alongside his sides. with broken arms or legs. and all this was on an easy day. what wasn't bearable was the constant threat of losing him. to anything and everything around you.
he was invincible. you weren't. it weighed on you.
and god, it was getting repetitive. the fights. the justified helpness of his pretty eyes. the welling of tears in your blood-shot ones. your yells, pleas. the following, constant, jagged silence from him as he chose his duty over you. again and again and again. the sound of wind whooshing as he flew out of your window when he was confronted by the problems in your relationship. it was becoming a habit. a sick, twisted reality for you and the superhero.
you should leave each other, you pysche begged you as he brushed his teeth standing behind you in the early mornings, pressing his lean, muscular body to your back. you don't work together at all, it mused again when you poured him a cup of coffee. it's just gonna end in a heartbreak, you knew as you kissed his cheeks goodbye as told you he'd be home soon.
but you two were so good together. god.
you laughed at his jokes, hand in hand when out for a walk on the off-chance when he wasn't called on his superhero duties. you smiled up at him and ruffled his hair on cafe dates. you posed with him, all matching and shit, and kissed him stupid in one of the many photobooths you went to. he would get you pizza from italy and matcha from japan. he would give you his classic million-dollar smile and ask if you could forgive him. and you did. always did. only to come back to a shitty reality.
you knew it was doomed. you should have stopped. but you didn't... you couldn't. you loved him! you loved him! you loved him... especially when he always knew how to make it up.
you could still remember the first time he fucked up, before you knew even knew his identity.
you held your head in your palms after your very first big fight. you thought it was fucking over and fairly so. you had had it. you were done. he was so absent, and so full of shit. you and mark were just not going to work out and that was fine. that was fine. that was fin-
triiiiiing!
when you opened your gate, mike stood there.
"i'm sorry," he piped up, a whole cheesecake in his hands. giving you one of his classic mark smile, he asked. "please forgive me?"
and you did. but not before you mumbled about how he wasn't allowed to cancel on you again.
he promised you he wouldn't. he then cancelled on you atleast seventeen times. then, you broke up with him. and then, he won you back again.
after that, fight after fight, mark would find a way to make it upto you. extravagant trips, food, anything! but then, it got too much. you didn't want pizza from italy or matcha from japan or tteokbokki from korea. you wanted your boyfriend. and he was rarely there. "anything" for his baby started failing when he did everything and anything except reassuring you that he'd leave this superhero life behind and just live normally with you.
and so, it changed. it went from trips and food to begging. excessive begging. mark would tear up at the thought of losing you, at the thought of ever being parted. he couldn't lose you. not after all that he had lost. and you couldn't possibly put him through that pain. that ache of loss. so, you stayed.
and that's all you did. stay. any romance between you two had gradually fizzled out. a kiss on your cheek before he left wasn't affection, it was habit. you making enough coffee for two cups wasn't care, it was habit. you automatically leaving his dinner in the fridge to be treated when he got back wasn't love. again, just a habit.
and now, at one in the morning, two years seven months and three days later, you lay awake on the bed of your shared apartment.
the window was cracked open, allowing for a safe and seamless entry for whenever mark reappeared. you probably should have slept. but you couldn't. not with the dull ache in your heart.
an hour later, the sound of the clock going tick-tock was a source of comfort rather than annoyance. your chest rose and fell in steady breaths. your eyes stared at the wall in front of you. and then...
whoosh!
the curtain fluttered as your half-viltrumite boyfriend flew in through the open window. he took off his mask, barely even glanced at you as he immediately asked, "you're awake, babe?"
"yeah." you mumbled from your position, barely lifting your head to greet him.
"oh. shit, sorry. were you waiting up on me? sorry. there was this crazy interdimensional stingray and..." at your lack of response, he sheepishly said, "sorry."
"mark." your voice was feeble, barely audible to yourself. but you knew the viltrumite had super hearing, he could probably pick up on it.
if he heard you, he didn't react. instead, he quickly took off the rest of his suit, "uh, i'll take a quick shower and come. you should sleep, babe."
"mark." you said again, louder.
that made him pause.
"yes?"
you sat up, weary and lagged, "we... we need to talk."
he blinked at you before nodding, "yeah. sure. what is it?"
"this..." you took a deep breath, pinching your forehead, "this is not working."
mark's eyebrows furrowed. his eyes softened. he stepped forward, "what?"
"this isn't working." you repeated.
"no. i mean- i heard you." his words escaped him quickly, "i did."
"you know this isn't working-" you tried to reason.
he didn't even let you finish before he had practically teleported to your side, so close to you, with his face mere inches away from yours and his hands clamoring to stroke your cheek. "babe. i know... i know it is shitty and i work unreasonably long and- and listen, i'll talk to cecil. i'll take some time off—"
"no." you turned your head away from the warmth of his hand. "that's not it."
you felt his fingers twitch against your skin, "no...?"
you met his eyes again and swallowed, "this just isn't it, mark. we're done."
you expected some kind of rambling apology, some fake promise of a far off future when he retires and has all the time in the world for you, or some sort of compensation. but nothing came. nothing but radio silence.
mark grayson simply opened his mouth and closed it shut, again and again, like a fish out of water.
finally, he sighed, "you- you always say this. every once in a while."
you blinked at his words. fury rose to your throat, "yeah? because it's the fucking truth—"
he cut you off, putting his palm on your cheek again. it was soft. it grounded you. it infuriated you. "have i not been a good boyfriend? i mean... fuck, i mean... i try to do everything right. i make up when i fuck up and i always apologize—"
you shrugged his touch away, "and that's not enough. there's no point in those extravagant gestures when you're never fucking here." your voice quietened, packed with a punch, "you're never here."
"i'm here right now."
you inhaled sharply at his words. "at almost 1.30 at night? when i waited the entire night for you to show up? you don't get it mark. you can either be invincible or be mark grayson. you cannot be both."
he blinked at your words, "i- i'm sorry."
his apology hung low in the air alongside the thick silence. he didn't say anything, and neither did you. you couldn't forgive him again, not at the expense of your own ruination.
"it's just... over." you swallowed, looking away from him, "maybe... maybe you should just-" you stopped yourself, wincing, "maybe you should not be with a civilian like me. i clearly don't understand your work and—"
mark kissed you.
at first, you didn't react. didn't kiss him back. instead of backing down, he just increased his fervor, kissing you till he felt like his superhero lungs were on the verge of collapse.
when he pulled away for air, you simply asked, "what... are you doing?"
"making up." he pleaded, "for my mistakes."
"mark..." you watched as he clamored to get his upper half of the suit off. you reached forward and touched his bicep, trying to halt halting him. but he took your palm in his, throwing off his suit somewhere on the floor of your shared apartment. his voice weighed as heavy as the ache in his eyes, "please. let me."
and you wanted to protest, wanted to tell him that sex wouldn't solve any of your problems but your tongue weighed heavy in your mouth. it had been so long since you both... touched. did anything other than kisses or quickies because mark had to run.
"please." his eyes refused to leave yours as he pressed a kiss to the back of your palm. it was chaste but something molten stirred in your core.
"okay." you nodded once, and that's all mark needed.
he kissed you immediately. his hands were on you in a second, one of them cupping your cheek while the other palmed your chest through your sleepshirt. he pushed you backwards until your back was against the headboard, until he had somehow nudged his lower half in between your thighs.
you were sandwiched between the hard wall and him.
"fuck..." you groaned into his mouth, "i missed this."
he nodded, eager, already pawing at your tshirt and ripping it off.
"mark!" you yelped at the rip of the fabric, but he didn't care. his lips latched onto your breasts, his tongue permeating the fabric with lecherous wads of saliva whilst his hips driveled against your clothed cunt.
whatever arguments you had died on the tip of your tongue. this was too much. he was too much. mark was always good at sex, thanks to the viltrumite stamina but when he was needy like this? when he had something to prove... oh god, it was hard to believe you would make out of it alive.
your clothes were ripped off of you. actually. your bra, then your shorts and panties, with not even as much as a decent apology, just the promises of "i'll buy you more." as he threw around the tattered fabric.
his lips circled your nipple, his knee grinding carefully against the heat o your apex. you arched your back and gasped into the air. he grinned against your skin and drank you in feverishly.
"fuck... c'mere." you pulled him up, kissing him again, all while his knee built up that gutting pressure against your core. it was delicious. it was delirious.
kissing down the edge of your lips, and then your jaw and then your neck, he quickly replaced his knee with his fingers. god. his fingers. long, agile digits that knew where exactly to pet. to curl. to work. it was as if you were his personal favourite experiment and he knew exactly where to push and prod to get the most favourable outcome.
he pet your gooey spot, stroking the g-spot so tenderly that it had your thighs tremble and eyes roll back in bliss. he was methodical. in and out. in and out. in and out- and oh fuck, he ramped up the tempo. his fingers delved in and out of you like a machine - precise, deep and fast - until his fingers were all but a crazy blur slick with your juices. his lips still worked against your pulsepoints, sucking in bruises that made your head spin.
"fuck, fuuuck-" you cried into the heady air, head thrown back and shaking as you felt your core tighten. your orgasm built and built until it tore through you, hot and shaking.
mark came to kiss away your cries of pleasure, to drink them in as his fingers did not halt, just momentarily slow down.
"fuck," he groaned, heavy against your lips, "you're squeezing the fuck out of me, babe."
"s-sorry."
"no." he kissed you to shut you up, "don't fuckin' apologize. feels so good. feels like heaven." he panted like he was the one who just came, and then sped up his fingers again.
"mark, no." you winced, already trying to shimmy your hips away at the overstimulation of his doughy fingertips teasing your sensitive pussy again. he groaned at the thought of you escaping, "don't run from me."
"'senough..." you argued, thick-tongued and hazy, "i'm- it's enough."
"no." he kissed you again, and then, without missing a beat, lowered himself down your body. you felt his hot, open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your simmering skin as he went down - from your collarbone to the valley of your breasts and your belly, to your hip and inner thigh. his fingers didn't stop in the slightest, and now his sinful mouth had joined in the mix.
his tongue traced delicious patterns onto your clit, teasing and probing the nub until you were forcing his head deeper in and squirming your hips farther away.
the tremor in your thighs picked up pace, and before you could run, or even think of it, mark had his arms looped steadfast around your legs. he pinned you down, rendering you useless completely and utterly.
you pawed at his head, "mark— shit... too much— seriously!"
"no, no, no." he cried against your gushing pussy, kissing it intimately, "please don't run. i have to make up for this..."
you're sure your boyfriend was rambling on in the background, something about how sweet you were and how lovely you tasted but you couldn't hear any of it, not over the dull roar of blood in your eardrums. as your second orgasm washed over you, you felt your vision blank. your back arched, nails ripped into his shoulders and eyes rolled back. for a moment, all that existed was you and mark and the sexual limbo he had subjected you to.
you're not sure how long it took — seconds, or perhaps minutes — but when you caught your breath and felt your vision return to your body, you blinked back dark spots just to find mark still attached to your core.
"mark." your throat was choked, eyes heavy with unshed tears. "no more."
he looked up at you, eyes wrecked with lust and devotion. "one more. i wanna feel you cum again. on my fingers. on my face."
if his tongue wasn't enough to give you a blood rush, his words certainly were.
you shied under his intense gaze, "you don't have to— jus-just fuck me now. im ready."
mark blinked at you, as in disbelief. "and miss the feeling of my girl squirting all over me?"
your cheeks heated impossibly higher. you demanded through the embarassment, "but I want you inside."
"i know." mark gave you a smile, still unyielding in his pumps inside your cushiony pussy. "don't worry, I'll make you squirt on my dick too."
any chance of a protest were long dismissed as mark grayson dived into your core again, drinking the erotic liquid pooling from your honeyed sex.
with how overestimated you were, and how well his fingers and mouth worked in tandem, it took only a few minutes till your vision was going splotchy and head was feeling lightheaded.
an unreal pressure built up in your lower belly, then kind that had you gasping chants of your boyfriend's name in the hopes of ruination, or salvation, or both.
"fuck, fuck, fuck—" you panted, in heat and spiraling, "it's... fuck I think I'm going to..."
"yeah?" mark groaned, using his other hand to quickly swipe against your swollen clit. the strikes of his doughy fingertips only teased the burning geyser in your core and before you knew it, you felt your body shake with need and release. a jet of liquid splashed against marks face and like an indecent man, maddened with lust, he hung open his jaw and drank all of it.
you writhed against him, shaking and trembling and gasping in pleasure, and the man still had the audacity to come place kitten licks to your quivering sex.
when, ever-so-slightly, your sanity returned to you, you opened your eyes to find mark grayson cleaning up the mess between the juncture of your thighs with the softest strokes.
you pet his hair, which was now sweaty and sticking to his handsome face.
"too much?" he asked, nuzzling his face against your perspired skin. his face was still practically dripping with your essence.
managing a weak smile, you shrugged, "eh, I've had a viltrumite boyfriend for so long. I'm used to it."
he kissed up your body again, leaving the obscene trail of your juices on your body with every kiss.
when he finally made his way to your face, you wiped off his lips with your palm. he smiled against your skin, "are we good?"
you paused at that. were you? the sex was good but... was it enough?
you looked away to the side. mark gently pulled your face back to him.
"tell me if we aren't." one of his arms hooked your legs over his hips, quickly shuffling to his stifling cock to line against your entrance.
you swallowed, "i don't know." you paused again, feeling his oozing mushroom tip kiss your entrance in such a wicked game of teasing. "i just don't even know if you love me anymore."
that seemed to do it. he blinked at you, confused.
"what?" his expression was hard to decipher, even as someone who was very transparent. "how- how can you say that?"
"i..." you inhaled, sharp, "sorry. it just feels like it..."
he rested his forehead against you, "don't ever fucking say that. don't ever." there was a strain to his words, the kind that was followed by the sheathing of his cock right inside you.
you gasped, "mark!"
but it was done. as someone who loved missions, mark grayson had already found his next. he pushed your thighs to your chest, folding you in as he bludgeoned his cock into you.
"don't fucking say that." he grunted, his pupils blown with lust and resolve. every snap back of his cock was lined with a promise. "i love you."
"i—" words came hard to you. your core was already tight and burning. you were so close.
"i love you." he said it again, like clockwork. like saying it again and again made it any more true. "you don't get to fucking question that. please."
his cock was not in the slightest jilted by the rambunctious nature of his words. he dived his leaky tip to the deepest of your core, stretching you out on himself as if it were habit. his muscled erection massaged your walls.
"mark. fuck. again—nggh!" your sanity had somehow reduced itself to only one word — his name.
he nodded, feverish, bringing one of his hands to swipe at your swollen clit again. it throbbed under him, raw and overstimulated. despite his actions, his words didn't falter. "i love you. i am gonna— fuck, fix this. hah. fix it. all of it. i love you."
with each drag of his cock back into your perfect cunt, he babbled on like a madman. you, on the other hand, were struggling to retain your sanity, much less listen to his pleas.
"fuck— oh my god—" your breathy voice was enough of an indicator of what was to come. mark momentarily stilled inside of you, quickly swiping his fingers against your drenched cunt.
your back bowed, eyes clenched shut and jaw hung open as another stream of squirt hit the man's lower abs, travelling down in rivers of sin.
the juncture of your thighs were a mess of fluids — his, yours, his, and yours. the mixture did nothing but egg him on to increase his pace, to use the fluid as lube to fuck you senseless.
recovering from your fourth consecutive orgasm, you barely registered the tightening of his jaw and his irongrip on your body. he panted, "fuck— hah. god, can I cum inside? please—ngh baby?"
you nodded, not trusting your voice to be capable of much after such violent screams of pleasure.
at your go, mark grayson increased his pace to an unfaltering degree. he was inhumane — fucking you at a speed that almost coaxed another orgasm out of your spent body. your entire body jiggled at the force of his thrusts.
and then, with a few more, he spilled inside you with a unrestrained cry, "oh— holy shit."
mark collapsed on top of you, weighing his muscular body against yours as he took deep breaths. there was a mess in between the juncture of your thighs, and there he was — still buried.
instinctively, your hand flew to his hair again. you pet it, soft and smooth.
"fuck." he groaned into your perspired skin. "that was good." mark looked up, eyes big and doubtful, "yeah?"
you managed a nod, "it was."
he smiled, "are you okay?"
you sighed, still playing with his hair, "i don't think i can walk tomorrow."
mark laughed at that, airy and unserious. "I'll fly you wherever you want."
you rolled your eyes at that. you were in a post-fuck haze, not stupid.
"as if. cecil's gonna be ringing you up any minute now."
"no." mark picked himself up to press a kiss to your lips. a quick peck. "I'll take tomorrow off."
"i thought you said a superhero never takes a day off?" and though there was a teasing lilt to your voice, the two of you knew just how deeply the question flowed.
it wasn't a joke, it was a clever way to corner him, get him to admit the truth that he believed in.
"well, i can either be mark grayson or invincible, right? i choose to be mark grayson tomorrow." he flashed you a sincere smile.
you blinked, "seriously?"
mark nodded. "seriously."
you grinned, "i love you."
"i love you more." he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one a lot longer.
when you both parted, mark smiled against your lips. "i know i fucked up. I'd be better."
you smiled too, "thanks."
mark carefully removed himself from you. he then cleaned you up, offering you one of his tshirts to sleep in. you're not sure how quickly you fell asleep, but you fell asleep against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of his chest.
next morning, when you woke up, you reached out for your boyfriend but his side of the bed was empty.
groggy and sore, you blinked the sleep out of your eyes and sighed. cecil probably called. he probably needed to go save the world from an alien species for the fiftieth time this month.
well, it was fine. whatever. it was mark. why were you even expecting anything different? he was a smooth talker. and god, the sex was amazing but when had he ever kept his promises—
"i made french toast!" he announced proudly as he walked into your bedroom, a tray table in his arms.
you blinked, "you're... here?"
"uh, yes?" he looked at you, confused, "today, im mark grayson, remember?"
you blinked from him to the tray in his hands. "right... i just thought you left—"
"cecil called thrice." mark admitted honestly, "but I told him if my girlfriend breaks up with me, I'll probably go berserk and end the planet. and the GDA wouldn't want that." he added, sheepish, "probably."
"wow." you sat up, half impressed and half terrified. "that's a lot of responsibility on my shoulders. stopping invincible from ending the planet."
"it got cecil off my ass for today." he leaned in to kiss you.
you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him back.
maybe the relationship was doomed. but the sex was bomb. and so was his french toast.
a.n: GUESS WHO GOT INTO THE INVINCIBLE FANDOM AND ALSO raise your hand if you want me to do a part two with much more angst. originally, reader was gonna leave mark's sorry ass but then i felt like being nice. hope you enjoyed the filth.
(TO ANYONE WHO'S WAITING ON MEDDLE ABOUT, I'M WORKING ON IT.)
old m.list | new m.list
Good morning, afternoon, and evening, depending on the time 😅 First of all...I LOVE YOUR GAME, YOU REALLY DID A GREAT JOB 🥹💯 Okay, now for the questions!
1. How would the trio react if they turned into a woman? (I think Jestyn would touch her breast to see if it's real)
2. How would Jestyn react if MC laughed really loudly, almost gasping for breath, over anything, even if it didn't make sense?
3. How does Jestyn kill? Does he kill quickly, slowly, or painfully?
4. In one of the questions, you answered that Jestyn would like MC to be submissive to him (like in the scene with the collar). So, what would he do to MC?
*Now for some slightly risqué questions (I can't help myself 💔)
1. If Jestyn were to become a woman... would she perform oral sex on MC if he asked her to?
2. What kind of nicknames would Jestyn use on you during sex?
3. If MC were to bite Jestyn all over her body as a form of ownership, would Jestyn show the marks or not?
Well, I think that's enough. Sorry if my writing is bad; English isn't my native language (I'm from Bolivia 🇧🇴). And thank you very much if you answer them.
Jestyn
Err… yeah, I guess you’re not wrong. He’d be surprised at first, but then he’d just accept it. He’d think this might become a unique moment in his life. And he’d… uh, squeeze his chest to try and seduce MC.
Knighter
Shocked, confused, trying to stay calm… before getting confused again. He doesn’t want the other puppets to see him like this—as a woman—so he’ll do his best to cover his body and face with his cloak.
Wizzy
Same as Knighter. He’d be confused. But he sees it as an interesting experiment, so he’d start reading books to figure out how to turn himself back.
Prieston
Same as the others, confused at first. But honestly? He stops caring after a while. He just goes on with his daily life as usual.
I imagine the MC’s laughter would be contagious to him, so he’d end up laughing along with MC.
It depends on the situation. Sometimes he wants the victim to feel pain before die. Other times, he just wants them gone from his sight as quickly as possible. usually when his anger completely takes over and he loses control.
It wouldn’t be that different from the collar scene. But he wouldn’t step on MC. He’s not a sadist. He’d place MC on his lap and treat them like his beloved pet.
I mean, even when he’s a man, he’d still happily give oral to the MC.
I think it’s ‘Darling,’ ‘My love', ‘Sweeting’
Of course he will. He has no shame at all and actually enjoys showing others that he belong to you.
wherein he finally muster up his courage and confidence to tell you that he likes you or his secret slips somehow and he confessed you by accident !
featuring. surebrec rudo , nijiku zanka , enjin !
content. 3.2k wc , up to 1.0k words per drabble / oneshot , fluff , romance , slight crack (?) , rudo being a sweetheart , zanka being little stupid , enjin being a teasing asshole , s/o being shy and speechless lol , spoiler - free , safe for minors , this was a request , part one.
author’s note. nah I don’t like this at all and I totally failed at zanka’s and enjin’s part. even though zanka is my absolute favourite, I got the feeling that I just cannot write about him as sad as that sounds..
SUREBREC RUDO.
"WELCOME!" your voice rang in the bakery as soon as you heard the bells.
Immediately after, you stood up from your crouching position to greet the customer properly — yet you weren't allowed to greet them normally, hitting your head against the counter.
"Ouch!" you winced and held your head while facing the customer, "ah! Rudo, good morning."
"Good morning... [name]." he blinked a few times before his awkward expression converted into a worried one. "A-Are you okay..?"
"Mhm! I just hit my head, it's all good. Happens to the best." your lips curled into a grin, still rubbing the forming bruise on the back of your head.
The positivity was literally radiating from you, an aura surrounding your figure as you beamed at him despite the pain. Yet it's not that bad that you have to act overdramatic and all.
"Are you sure?" he suddenly turned into a robot, ears heating up in sheer embarrassment beside his crush.
"Don't worry too much!" you chuckled and placed your hands on the counter, "the usual?"
"Y-Yeah..." he answered, voice lacking a hint of interest in sweets.
For once in his life, he didn't care enough about the pastries because here is someone, he cares much more about. He has to keep up his image though and wants you to think he cares about you.
Although, what troubles him terribly is his lack of knowledge. He does not know how to act next to someone he really likes or how to get closer to them. His mind just turns blank.
Worst of all, whenever he wants to engage himself into a conversation with you, his throat feels all dry and his thoughts empty and then you have to lead the talk somehow with your amazing social skills.
"Rudo, you seem frustrated." you noted, eyes occasionally glancing up to the boy while your hands worked quick to pack the things up.
"I-I do..?" his eyes widened slightly, feeling surprise and disbelief at the same time.
How did you notice? Was it that obvious? But a sudden burst of overwhelming joy flattered in his stomach — well because, you noticed. It's not like you two spent much time together.
It's been only a few weeks since you two met and conversed yet it seemed like you already picked up with his behaviour and special traits. Are you an observant person?
"Clearly." you confirmed and a frown replaced your smile, "what's weighing down your heart?"
"I err..." he trailed off, mind going empty again.
The possible answers he could use disappearing into thin air — making him freeze on the spot. His lips parted slightly yet no sound left his lips, nothing was even trying to escape his lips.
He shuts them again, eyes frantically searching for something to look at. Everything but you. But you didn't let him as you furrowed your eyebrows, adding more emotions to your frown.
"Rudo." you called out, this time his name wasn't spoken like a sweet addiction. "Don't even think about finding an excuse."
"[name], I wasn't..!" he immediately denied and couldn't help but face you again, "I wasn't... trying to find an excuse."
"Okay." you accepted with another complaint or question, lips curling into a smile again, "then it's fine. I don't want to force you to answer."
"I-I didn't feel pressured at all." a small part of him did. "It's just—"
"No need to tell me." you assured him
and slid the bag towards his direction, the same sweet smile on your lips.
The boy blinked a few times, his cheeks painted in a rosy red before he slowly placed the bag of coins on top of the counter. "I really... like you." he confessed shyly, now his whole face heating up.
You could even see the steam coming out of his head, leaving a cute trail in the air — amidst the savoury scent of the bakery. And to be honest, you can't even laugh or say something, you can't brush it off as if he joking.
Because you know he was being genuine, his vulnerability and feelings on display.
With that being said, you could only shut your eyes and open them again. "You like me?" you gaped and asked again to make sure you heard right, your cheeks heating up.
"Ido." he confirmed very quickly, almost inaudible.
"Like... me." you repeated, eyes lighting up at the confession. "You mean the like or the like like?"
"Err..." he trailed off and dropped his gaze to the ground, his eyes telling you how embarrassed he felt. "The like like, I guess..."
"I like you too." if it wasn't instantly, it was something that. You didn't hesitate to return his feelings and held tightly onto the counter.
His head slowly lifted again, eyes widened and his ears red like his ears — gaping like a fish would. "Ahhh..." he breathed out speechlessly and blinked, whole face slowly turning into a tomato.
The moment he met your determined gaze, he couldn't help but cover his face and — dash out? The bells rang in the bakery again as he abruptly left the room, leaving you in slight confusion.
"Rudo, you forgot your sweets..!" you called out, voice trying to reach out for him.
Suddenly — the door opened again as he slowly walked in, his gloved hand still covering his under face. "I— Uh, Sorry for leaving so fast... E-Excuse me. Please..?" he stuttered and was about to leave the store again.
"Pastries!" you immediately called after him, forcing him to turn back and take the bag.
"How u-uncool." he blushed heavily.
"See you..." a smile crossed your face, holding onto his hand as your cheeks turned red. "See you tomorrow, yes?"
"I— Yeah sure... S-See you tomorrow..." he walked out again, now slower and more robotically.
"Ahhh..." when he left, you leaned over the counter and took a moment to regain your composure — not able to process what just happened. "I feel so embarrassed..."
NIJIKU ZANKA.
"GOOD morning..!" your booming voice echoed in the halls of the Headquarters.
Without hesitating any further, you pushed the double doors, which lead into the Cleaner's dining room. Your lips curling into the most motivated and cheerful smile ever.
"[name], good morning!" Riyo returned your greeting and flashed the everlasting grin. "How unusual! It seems like you got sleep this night."
"Oh err yeah..." you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head and chuckled, "I think I was just straight up dead after that mission."
"Must've been tiring, huh? Here! Eat, eat and regain your energy!" she ushered you to, hands on your shoulders as she pushed you to the food.
"I will." you dragged yourself with the help of Riyo to the breakfast.
"Maybe you should drink tea too! Or coffee? Whatever keeps you awake." she grinned and forced you to sit down on a random table.
Random table. Which table you would like to know? Somewhere in front of Nijiku Zanka, the guy who absolutely hates your guts. No, he already despises you to the core probably.
"Erm thank you." you said one last time before Riyo disappeared into the crowd of cleaners.
Stiffly turning your attention back to the male sitting in front of you, you couldn't help but let out a broken laugh. "Ha ha ha... Good morning to you too, Zanka." your voice sounded robotic and kind of forced.
"Oh. Mornin'." in a swift movement, he met your eyes for barely a second and averted them again — now piercing his food with his gaze.
At some point you're sure that he doesn't even need a knife. He can simply cut through the meat with his glare. Or frown, you can't make it out since he always wears this stoic expression on his face.
The dry reply scratched like fork against porcelain plate in your ears. You awkwardly sank your head to your own plate and slowly began to eat your food, just like him.
In complete silence.
Speaking honestly, the silence hurt. Like — it hurt in your ears. As if someone screaming right into your ears. And worst of all, you could even hear your own heart pounding.
"Semiu needs both of us for a task." he spoke up, immediately coming to the point.
Zanka lied. He totally was lying. Semiu only needed him for the task and mentioned it would be good for you to join, which wasn't necessarily though. Yet it got over his head and he wanted you to join so badly.
"Oh... Really?" you questioned to make sure that you heard him.
Perhaps this is a trap. Yes, this must be one. He might get you off the picture by killing you and making it look like an accident, which totally wasn't an accident. And everyone's going to believe him!
Yet the idea quickly hopped off your mind again. It was ridiculous, not to mention. Zanka is a professional cleaner who doesn't let his emotions and own judgements come into the way.
He can be objective and look at the important things, ignoring his thoughts throughout the course. So he would never try to harm you and say it was an accident, right?
"Today, in a few hours. In front of Semiu's office." he informed you, keeping his speech brief.
You slowly looked up from your plate and stared at the male in front of you. It was a short moment before he met your gaze. You flinched in surprise, eyes wandering over to the wall.
Oh shit, he caught you staring.
How embarrassing. Your cheeks heated up, painted in a rosy red as sweat formed on your forehead. He felt your glance. That guy can feel stares. Especially yours it seems.
"Something wrong?"
"No..! Nothing." you immediately replied, eyes blinking and flickering over to him from time to time.
"Really?"
"Yes. Really." you let out an awkward chuckle and tried to smile at him, covering your own surprise.
"Yer lying." he figured easily, his eyes roaming around your face.
"I totally am." you admitted and closed your eyes for a second, "is my facade that bad?"
He hummed and averted eye contact again, not touching fork and knife. "Why the long face?" he questioned quietly, surprising you slightly. The clear hint of concern in his voice.
"Because... Well— Uh." you tripped over your own words, not knowing how to respond.
Can you possibly tell him that you're afraid of him? Yes, you can. Isn't it rather rude? To ask someone if they hated you. Maybe you have to carry the words in another way.
"Do you hate me?" you blurted out and not even a second later, you facepalmed.
The straightforwardness killed you on the spot, there was no ill intentions laced in your words though. So you hoped he wouldn't misunderstand your silly and rude question.
"I—" he trailed off, the shock vivid on his face. "What... did ya say?"
"SORRY!" you apologised in a booming voice, pulling in some stares from the others.
"N-No... What did ya say?" he cracked a smile, it was a rather a nervous what-should-I-do smile.
"Nevermind."
"No, not nevermind."
"Do you... hate me?" you nervously tapped your feet against the ground.
"No!" he immediately denied, his shock converting into a blank face.
Oh — he couldn't help himself. "Sorry." he apologised curtly and coughed, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. "...actually I would love to know, why ya think that?"
"Because..." you covered your face, "I don't know. You act like you couldn't even stand me... Like that one time when I trained Rudo and you took him back without hesitation. Or when we sparred. You won and immediately left? Err I don't know. It seemed like you hate me."
"Is that so..?" he blinked and turned his head away. "To clarify a few things, I don't hate ya. No never... Quite the opposite even."
"Quite the opposite?" you gaped, cheeks heating up.
"No wait, I didn't—" he shuts his mouth again before he creates another misunderstanding.
Oh no — he will not create another one.
"I like ya." he confessed. "I would never think about hatin' ya."
"You like me?" you shut your mouth again.
"I'm not repeatin' myself fer ya."
"You like me..."
"Stop, ya look like an idiot right now..."
"Zanka LIKES me!?"
"STOP SHOUTIN'!"
ENJIN.
ONE month is over already. Today thirty days ago, you made a bet with the one and only Enjin and won it with your price being able to confiscate his cigarettes and lighter.
Perhaps he cheated and actually did smoke a few times in secret. That is, if he seriously couldn't live without it and that would also make him lose the title »a man of his word«.
But you know you can count on Enjin and put your full faith into him, since well — he was a man of his word of course. He did good, surviving a month without smoking. Definitely better for his health.
And now that the time limit is over, you can finally give the things to its rightful owner. You could only hear his lungs screaming multiple »thank you«'s for the break they got.
"Here you go!" you greeted the blond-haired man, placing the box of cigarettes and a lighter on the table.
"Lovely greeting." he chuckled and eyed at his own belongings, now sitting nicely on the table.
"Good morning, sorry." you smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of your neck, "or good afternoon."
"Well good afternoon." his gaze lingering on the table. "Got a morning task again?"
"Nope, I was away with Riyo. I promised her to hang out because I've been busy the last couple of days." you sat down in front of him and placed one leg over the other, a relieved sigh leaving your lips.
"So you went out without me?" he feigned hurt while his eyes were laced with amusement.
"Of course we did. No male creatures are allowed on our girl's trip!" you played, going along his acting. "Hey wait, don't talk as if you aren't going out all day and night by yourself while causing trouble."
"Cause trouble?" he gasped in disbelief as if your arrow pierced straight through his heart. "I would never think about causing trouble."
"Yeah sure." you rolled your eyes. "Don't be a baby, yes? You always disappear without a trace."
"Miss me or what?" he joked.
"I do." your lips curled into a smile.
His eyes widened slightly just like the excited grin Were you being serious or sarcastic? He hard no sarcasm in though and your smile seemed genuine. "Naw, aren't you being a sweetheart?"
"Stop with those cheesy pet names." you shook your head frantically, feeling a little embarrassed by that.
"You're making me want to call you more pet names now." he teased with the typical smirk, he always wears.
"Please don't, Enjin." you sweat dropped.
"But it's fun to see you like this!"
"What a tease." you shook your head, "go do something instead of teasing me."
"Like what?"
"Err— You can smoke a round." you blurted out, now staring at the package of cigarettes before realising what you said.
"Aren't you the one who wants me to stop?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Woops, didn't mean to. It just slipped because I was staring at it the whole time." you covered your mouth in surprise, "no wait. I mean there's so much you can do. Don't smoke."
"Hmm, really?" he mused quietly, which was unlike him, "wanna play a round black jack?"
"Oh black jack?" you blinked. "So you can lose again?"
"Lose? Excuse you?" he grinned. "I'm going to win this round."
"Sure, yes." you smiled as he got a pack of cards from out of nowhere and began to shuffle them throughly.
"Don't believe me?" he handed you out two cards and himself also a pair.
"I do." you lied and took a glimpse of hidden card, then drawing another card, "hit."
"Hit?" he repeated and shook his head, "stand?"
"You got a good hand it seems." you mused and gazed at your own cards.
Should you risk it?
"Is there something you want if you win? That is, if you actually win." you questioned while still contemplating if you should draw another card and risk it.
If you counted the numbers together, the sum would be seventeen. Far away from twenty-one — you would never win with this hand. Not if he's being this confident with his current hand.
"Yeah, I got there a little request." he admitted, "from last time even."
"Hit." you risked it, curiosity getting the better of you — your eyes lit up. "Blackjack. I won!"
"Are you sure?" he chuckled and finally revealed his two cards.
An ace and a ten, the best combo you could get in the game. "Why didn't you say so...?" your expression converted into a blank one, not even looking at your own three cards.
"I just wanted to see that cute gleam in your eyes." he smiled.
"Being an asshole right now, I see." you tutted.
"Now now... There is no rule to immediately inform the other player if you got a blackjack. You do it to not cause any misunderstandings."
"Shut up..." you grumbled, "so? What do you want?"
"Oh, I want a kiss."
Silence took over. You blinked slowly but surely, figuring that you did hear right about his demand. He wants what? Hesitantly, your eyes roamed over his face, trying to make out any hint of irony.
"You... want what?" you asked.
"A kiss." he pointed at his own lips and then on his cheek, the smile turning into a smirk. "What now, are you too shy? Come on, don't be a baby about it. It's just a kiss on the cheek."
"It's just a kiss, he said." you felt the sweat forming on your skin, the sheer embarrassment catching up with you as your cheeks heated up.
"It's only fair. I won the game and now I get to claim my prize."
"Uh... Yeah..." you trailed off, suddenly feeling too shy to even move an inch.
"Frozen on spot."
He lifted himself from the seat and walked the two steps towards you, looking down at you while you gazed up to him. And then — he leaned in, close to your face that you could feel his breath hitting your skin.
"A-Ah..." you stuttered in surprise at the closeness.
"Come on. Give me my well deserved prize." he whispered.
"Okay..." you hesitated, still not able to believe what was happening.
But you pushed your own confusion away and planted a sweet kiss against his cheek while your own cheeks were red as hell. "Errr... Here." you trailed off awkwardly.
"You're so cute."
"What?" you blinked, the confusion still vivid on your face.
"It's one of the things I love about you." he even emphasised the word.
"Y-You— What?" you gulped and panicked slightly.
His lips curled into a sly yet innocent smile. Was that even possible? Or maybe it was his innocent smile paired with yellow, sly eyes.
