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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Twisted 19 - Chasing Silhouettes [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3800

Summary: Truce can be inevitable.

It was safe to say that you were officially off your rocker after the break up. Stress? Check. No sleep? Check. Getting drunk mid-day? Check.

Looking a serial killer in the eye and threatening him?

Also check.

The constant anger was gone though. That blinding fury was gone, the fear was gone, the only thing you felt was numbness. It was as if you were watching everything happening around you from behind a glass, it was there but you couldn’t touch it or feel it.

With one exception; you missed Spencer each and every minute of the day, so you at least knew there was something left inside of you that wasn’t broken. But after what had happened, it wasn’t like you could call him. You had already left him multiple voice messages whenever you got too drunk anyway, and you were sure he had deleted them without even listening.

Not that you could blame him. He had already told you he wished he had never met you, and there was nothing you could do to change that.

“You guys will get back together,” Kenzie assured you like the hopeless romantic she was, “This is just temporary. I just know it, it’s like me and Mina. You can’t stop true love.”

“I doubt Mina ever told you she never loved you,” you stated, exhaling the smoke of your cigarette. “Or that you told her you wish you had never met her.”

She stole a look at Mina who was waiting for your lattes by the counter and turned to you.

“Well alright, maybe you and Spencer are having a more intense fight than we did, but—“

“This is not a fight, Kenz. We broke up.”

“You broke up with him,” she corrected you, “And you’re still in love with him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I burned that bridge, okay? After this whole case is over, he will want nothing to do with me—hell, he wants nothing to do with me right now and I don’t blame him.”

“Okay,” Mina said as she came to your table and handed you your latte before sitting down, “What are we talking about?”

“Her and Spencer.”

“Yeah no, fuck that guy.”

Kenzie gasped, “Babe!”

“Kenz, he’s in the FBI, okay? He was there when they brought her into that interrogation room.”

“He wasn’t there when they took me to the station.”

“Fine, he came later on but did nothing to stop his beloved team from hounding you.”

“Mina, he was in another room.”

“You can’t possibly believe he didn’t know what was happening in the interrogation room,” she insisted and Kenzie pulled her brows together.

“Wait, didn’t you say he was the one who called you? For the lawyers and everything?”

Mina shrugged, “Yeah, so? That was just because this one,” she pointed at you, “Was too much of an idiot to ask for a lawyer. What, did you never watch a movie? You always ask for a lawyer.”

“But think about it, it means that he was trying to protect her from that whole interrogation process before he even landed,” Kenzie stated, “He knows how that whole thing goes, he made the calls, he gave his professional opinion to the police, he sent his team because they wouldn’t let him in there, it wouldn’t surprise me if he thought they’d go easy on her.”

You held the warm cup in your hands, listening silently.

“Or he just wanted to play the nice guy so that he could manipulate her more.”

You pulled your brows together, “Dude, he’s not manipulating me.”

“Not right now.”

“Not ever,” you said, “That’s not… that wasn’t the reason. Kenzie has a point, he was trying to get me out of there with minimum damage, and he knows how the system works.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why you need to talk to him and explain—“

“Enough people got hurt because of me,” you cut Kenzie off, “Died, even. It would destroy me if it was him, okay? Me staying away is better for him, at least he will stay alive.”

Mina scoffed, “Not that your heartbreak is not important, but I need to bitch at you before I forget,” she said, “How could you not tell me Nolan was planning to propose mom?”

Kenzie smiled, “I think it’s sweet.”

“I think it’s a fucking disaster.”

“Oh come on,” you murmured, sipping your coffee, “You’ve seen them together, haven’t you? It’s bound to happen, he’s head over heels and mom can’t stop talking about him.”

Mina let out a whine, “I’m a good person,” she murmured, “I give to charity and stuff, I don’t deserve this.”

“You’re not ten years old you idiot, a stepfather will not disturb any dynamics you have.”

“He will though!” she protested, “To repeat, he is basically my boss, okay?”

“He’s a lot of people’s boss.”

“Yeah, do you know what people will think when I finally make partner?” she asked you, “That my brand new stepdaddy pulled some strings.”

“Please don’t call him stepdaddy, that’s just disturbing.” Kenzie made a face and Mina heaved a sigh.

“How are you so okay with this?” she asked you and you tilted your head.

“Mina, there’s a killer who’s going after people I know and making sure I see that,” you started, counting with your fingers, “I’ve been drugged at my own apartment—in my own bedroom only to find my ex boyfriend’s dead body in my kitchen. I’ve been accused of murder, been handcuffed, interrogated and broke up with the love of my life. The last past week, I got maybe five hours of sleep and oh, before I forget, I also threatened our original serial killer father with death just a couple of days ago. Does it look like I’m in the right mental state to worry about getting a new stepdaddy?”

“To repeat, can you guys stop calling him stepdaddy?”

“What did you tell him when he asked for your blessing?” you asked and Mina rolled her eyes.

“I told him that mom is a grown woman,” she said, “She doesn’t need our permission to do anything. If she wants to get married to the guy who has apparently loved her for decades… who am I to say no to that?”

You tilted your head, “You were nice?” you asked in disbelief, “You’re never nice.”

“Eh, I have my moments.”

“What’s the real reason?”

Mina pointed at Kenzie with her thumb, “She said to be nice.”

“You’re so whipped.”

“You are seriously going to sit there and call me whipped when you’ve been wailing for the last month, miss I shall suffer forever after my lost love even though he was two seconds away from handcuffing me and not in a fun way?”

“He wasn’t-“

“Both of you are being too cynical about Nolan,” Kenzie interrupted you and grinned wide, “I mean come on, doesn’t it make you believe in love all over again?”

“It makes me want to get booze because I’ll never have that, Kenz,” you murmured and she pulled her brows together.

“Oh don’t be like that.”

“Kenz he was the love of my life and I lost—“

“I’m leaving if you start crying into your latte,” Mina deadpanned, “And please don’t say that you’ll plan Nolan’s proposal or God forbid, their wedding.”

“My client list is full.”

She let out a laugh, “You realize we all know that’s your favorite excuse when you don’t want to accept a client, right?” she asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you said and checked your wristwatch, “Well, I gotta get back to the office, I have this meeting and then I have two other meetings with these new pastry shops.”

“Hey, brat?” Mina stopped you as soon as you stood up and you tilted your head.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay, right?” she asked, “Besides this whole mess?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to smile, “I’m not but I will be.”

“Will you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I mean I have to, right? There’s not much of an option there.”

Mina looked like she wanted to insist, but Kenzie squeezed her hand, silently telling her to drop it before you made your way through the street to approach the building your office was in. You nodded at the security guards then got in the elevator and pressed the button.

When the elevator got to your floor the doors opened but your assistant rushed to you as soon as you stepped outside

“Y/N, hi! You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“Shit, I forgot it on silent,” you murmured and checked it to see five calls from her, “Five calls? Erica, did you guys catch fire or something?”

“I was actually thinking maybe you would want to come to the balcony with me, you know, to get some fresh air before your meeting?”

You pulled your brows together, “What’s going on?”

“We didn’t know if we should call you or left them downstairs but…” she said, making your heart skip a beat.

“What is it?”

“Remember the time you said you were allergic to jasmines?”

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms, “Yeah?”

She pointed at something over your shoulder and you turned your head, your breathing catching up in your throat as someone opened the glass door to go outside.

There was a bowl full of jasmine flower petals but you could still take the overly sweet scent. Bile climbed up your throat as you walked through the door to approach the reception desk, and as soon as you saw what was in the middle of the petals, the room started spinning.

A vial of blood.

“Are you dating like a goth guy?” Erica asked as you took a step back, the walls closing in on you.

“Call the FBI,” you gasped as you rushed to the balcony, desperate for air, “Now.”

***

Panic attacks were a big part of your childhood, and even if you weren’t completely unfamiliar with them as an adult, they still managed to take you by surprise.

It took you nearly an hour to pull yourself together. An hour of sitting there in the balcony, your knees drawn up to your chest as your mind desperately searched for something to focus on, something to hold on to.

Some happy place.

By the time FBI had gotten there, your makeup was smudged around your eyes due to the excessive crying, your whole body was shaky and you were so exhausted that you could barely will yourself to get up and walk to your office.

The jasmine scent still clung to the air though.

You didn’t even have any energy to keep your eyes open, your whole mind wrapped in that numb haze that kept pulling you deeper and deeper into the absolute nothingness as you sat there on the couch, multiple agents coming and going into the office, into the reception, into your floor.

Dr Tara Lewis, Spencer’s coworker had given you a small bottle of hand lotion so that you could take in a scent other than those flowers before she had shot you a sympathetic smile and left your office to talk with the reception.

Even raising your hand to wipe at your nose with the tissue balled up in your palm felt way too tiring for you, but you wiped your nose, your eyes still fixed on the wall as the glass door to your office opened once again and footsteps came closer.

You didn’t even have to raise your head as Spencer approached you before he knelt down to look you in the eye.

“Hi.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Hi,” you sniffled, “Is it okay if we don’t do this today?”

He raised his brows, “Don’t do what?”

“I’m too tired to fight,” your speech was almost slurred at this point but you pulled your brows together, forcing yourself to focus as much as you could. “So can we do that tomorrow please? Like truce for a day?”

He offered you a tight lipped smile, “I’m not here to fight,” he said gently, as if trying to pull you back to the reality without scaring you, “Truce for a day works for me.”

You picked at the crumpled tissue in your hand, “Thank you.”

“Do you think you can talk to me though?”

You nodded silently, wiping at your nose again. “Yes.”

“Great,” he said, his calm voice washing over you, “That’s good. What’re you thinking about right now?”

“I’m thinking…” you tried to put your thoughts in order, “Tara gave me a peach hand lotion, can you give it back to her after you’re done here?”

“Sure,” he said, “That’s a good thing to focus on. What else?”

“It’s not my dad,” you said, “My dad wouldn’t dare to fuck with me, not after- it’s not him.”

“Tell me something other than the case.”

You willed yourself to concentrate on his handsome face, “Do I look like a horror movie corpse right now?”

He scoffed a chuckle, shaking his head. “You look beautiful Y/N. You always do.”

“The only person who’s a bigger liar than you is that makeup artist that told me this eyeliner was waterproof.”

He reached out to tilt your chin up so that his hazel gaze could study you better, and even in your numb state you could feel the warmth spreading through your body with his touch, “How long have you been awake?”

“I dozed off for like an hour last night,” you murmured, “I have this new apartment but I can’t sleep in my bedroom because I keep thinking there’s some noise coming from the kitchen, like… like it’s going to happen again. It’s impossible though, there are like five different locks on that door, someone would have to come with a battering ram to open the damn thing but I still don’t feel safe enough to—to sleep.”

He thought for a moment, “You can’t sleep because you don’t feel safe,” he murmured and you heaved a sigh, your head dropping before you forced yourself to raise it again, making a face.

“I’ve never tried peach lotion before, it smells nice…” you mused, your gaze fixed on the wall while the black spots flew in your vision “Have you ever tried it? Also hypothetically speaking, what happens if you eat lotion? Like do you think—“

“Y/N,” his clear voice shot through the haze again, “Sweetheart, look at me.”

If you weren’t too goddamn tired, the pet name would make you snap out of it and even give you a spark of hope, but you could barely concentrate on what was happening.

“Can you do something for me?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Lie down.” he said and you pulled your brows together.

“Why?”

“We’ll try something,” he said, stealing a look outside to the reception crawling with agents before turning to you as you curled up on the couch, still holding the tissue tight in your hand, your eyes getting heavy the minute your head hit the small pillow.

“What are we trying?” you managed to ask through the fog and he smiled softly.

“Close your eyes, for thirty seconds,” he said, “Just focus on your breathing. I’m right here, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, counting in your head.

You didn’t even reach fifteen before the sleep surrounded you.

***

You were pulled away from the bliss when someone shook you by the shoulder gently.

“Y/N,” Erica’s voice reached you, “Y/N, wake up.”

You opened your eyes groggily, frowning. It was already dark outside and there was nearly no one in the office except for her and you. You attempted to sit up but stopped as soon as Spencer’s cologne filled your nostrils and you looked down at the jacket covering you.

He must’ve left his jacket on you while you slept in order to keep you from getting cold.

You could feel the small spark of peace shooting through you, the warmth spreading through your veins as you hugged the jacket tighter around your body and cleared your throat.

“What time is it?”

“Eight,” she shot you a small smile, “Um, everyone left and I figured you’d get a stiff back if you sleept on the couch any longer.”

“Erica,” you said, “You didn’t have to stay.”

“Come on, I wouldn’t leave you here alone after today,” she said, “Besides, I told that tall handsome agent that I’d drive you home. His team was called back to the FBI, some clue or whatever.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I’d be a lousy assistant if I didn’t.”

“No, I mean—“ you swallowed thickly, “Thank you. It means more than you know to me.”

She grinned at you as you grabbed your purse and both of you made your way to the elevator.

“So I take it there’s no goth boyfriend but…” she said as the elevator went down, “Maybe a tall handsome flirt?”

“We broke up,” you murmured and she scoffed.

“Yeah no.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Erica, I’m pretty sure we broke up. I was there—“

“No I mean,” she huffed while you left the elevator to approach her car, “I have a talent to sense these sort of things you see. He doesn’t look at you like you broke up, and that jacket over you certainly doesn’t say you broke up.”

You got in the car with her and she started it.

“Is it because of your dad?” she asked you and your head shot up.

“What? How did you-?”

“It’s a small office, people talk,” she said as if apologizing, “But don’t worry, we all know that’s not the kind of person you are. I even had a fight with my boyfriend about it, but I told him that I knew you, you would never be able to do something like that. He was like you don’t know what people are capable of and I was like well...”

You were way too tired to answer her, so you let her talk about the time how she was great at sensing people’s true motives and how her boyfriend thought you were capable of murder while you sat in her car as she drove you to your place. You thanked her, your mind still fuzzy with sleep and made your way to your apartment.

After checking if all five locks were in their places and counting them in your head, you kicked off your heels and made your way to the fridge to get the bottle of whiskey. You took a swig of it and went to the couch, turning on the TV and leaning back to the soft cushions. You slowly took the jacket off and pulled it over your body, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.

Maybe you could just imagine that you two were together, just for tonight.

You managed to distract yourself for a couple of hours, just sitting there and staring at the TV, barely paying attention to what was playing. By the time it was midnight, you had reached the half of the bottle and looked down at your phone for a couple of seconds before finding his name in the contacts.

You didn’t have to wait for long, and for once it didn’t go to voice mail.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you smiled, “Um… is the truce still on? Or should I— should I hang up?”

“No,” he said almost too quickly, “No, don’t. We have today, don’t we? Might as well use the truce until the end.”

“Okay,” you whispered, “Thanks, by the way. For today. I can imagine how hard it is for you—“

“No,” his voice was soft, “No you really can’t.”

A silence fell upon you and you grabbed a tissue, wiping at your eyes,

“Professor?”

“Hm?”

“What does science say about heartbreak? Hypothetically speaking?”

“About heartbreak?”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat, “Considering the stimulation that increases dopamine and-“

“In a way that I will understand while I’m half drunk?”

“Addiction.”

You pulled back to look at the phone, “Addiction?”

“You know the areas of your brain that are active when you’re in love? Those areas are also active when you use…well, you name it. Cocaine. Drugs. Nicotine.”

“So that means heartbreak means-“

“Withdrawals,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

You grabbed another tissue from the box on the coffee table, wiping at your nose.

“Spencer, what if it goes on like this forever?” you rasped out, “This whole heartbreak. What if I feel like this forever? What if I… What if I’m like seventy and I still—“

Love you.

“Miss you,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, “What if I’m old and gray and still using your jacket as a blanket?”

“That’s what you’re doing right now?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Pathetic right?”

“I recorded that show you liked and still can’t bring myself to delete it,” he admitted, “I don’t even watch it, it’s just there. You sure you want to talk about pathetic with me?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Nah, still no competition professor. I still call you whenever I’m drunk, remember? You’re handling this way better than me, you still have your dignity.”

“I saw a fridge magnet in a store a week ago and I actually walked in there to buy it before I remembered I couldn’t give it to you,” he paused, “I’m not handling anything, Y/N. I’m a mess, it’s like…”

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“You took something with you on your way out,” he said slowly, “And I don’t know what to do with what’s left, to be honest.”

“My chest actually hurts when I see you, you know?” you murmured, “And I still haven’t deleted the pictures.”

“Me neither.”

You picked at the tissue in your hand, “So much for Dante and Beatrice huh?”

“All things considered, they’d handle it worse than us.”

“I doubt anyone could handle it worse than us, professor.”

“No think about it,” he said, “We had….we had each other, at least. They didn’t technically lose each other, because they were never together.”

“It’s still romantic.”

“Dante saw Beatrice twice in his life,” he told you, “Once when they were nine, once when they were both adults. Twice in his whole life. Ignore the poems, what would you do if a guy you saw when you were nine showed up years and years later, proclaiming his undying love for you?”

“Call the police?” you said, making him chuckle.

“There you go.”

“When you put romanticism aside, Beatrice should’ve gotten a restraining order.”

“They didn’t have those back then, Y/N.”

You let out a small giggle, “Yeah yeah…” you murmured, “So what does that mean then? We’re more tragic than Dante and Beatrice?”

He sniffled and cleared his throat, “Yeah,” he said, “I think that’s what it means.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, “It’s not going to get easier, is it?” you croaked out after almost a minute of silence and he thought for a moment.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Not for me anyway.”

“Not for me either,” you murmured and wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, burying your nose to the collar of his jacket draped over you.

If you closed your eyes, maybe it would stop hurting this much. You touched your screen to get to your gallery, then found your picture together, both of you smiling at the camera, unaware of the heartbreak that would hit you both very soon.

“Good night Dante,” you whispered and Spencer exhaled a shaky breath, as if he was craving the addictive high of your presence as much as you did his.

“Good night Beatrice.”

Chapter 20

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagines #twisted #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

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What are friends for?

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Request: Hi! I loved little lamb, you're such an amazing writer!!! Can I request a piece where reader and Billy are friends and for her birthday she asks him to fulfill a smutty fantasy and he's all too happy to comply. Bonus points if reader calls Billy Lieutenant and it involves his combat gear. Love, love, love your blog <3 <3 <3

A/N: Thank you, dear friend 🥰😘

You guys are letting me live my best hoe life and I love you for it 😂

The High Priestess of the Cult of Russo blesses you all 🖤😈😘

Warnings: cursing, a whole load of smut lmaoooo

(Under 18s avert your eyes and scroll on by)

-----

“C’mon, Y/N. I keep askin’ you and you won’t gimme a goddamn answer. I need to know what you want,” Billy huffed from next to you. The pair of you were in a booth at the bar, your friends having all left around 10 minutes ago. You’d opted to stay since you hadn’t finished your very large glass of wine and Billy stayed to keep you company. He’d walk you home, he always did.

You pursed your lips in thought before you scrunched your face up, looking at him as he gave you an exasperated look. You were sitting sideways on the bench seat with him, heels kicked off under the table with your legs draped sideways over his legs. It was pretty much par for the course with you two.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just getting to that age where I don't care about my birthday,” you snorted, taking a slurp from your wine. You had a little under half of it left now and you were pretty tipsy. Billy groaned and rolled his eyes at your answer and you gave him a sheepish smile before looking away. Your birthday was coming up in a few days and he’d been asking you for weeks what you wanted but you didn't really want anything. Nothing material anyway.

There was one thing that kept coming to mind yet you found yourself way too embarrassed to ask him. You took another generous glug of your wine as you thought about it, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What is it?” Billy asked knowingly. Your eyes snapped to his then as he raised a brow.

“What's what?” You asked innocently. He grinned, looking amused as he snatched your glass and took a pull from it.

“You just thoughta somethin’, so spit it out. You know I’d get you anythin’ you want,” he said softly, a fond smile on his face. You chuckled to yourself, eyes darting around the bar for a moment as you nibbled your lower lip. If you were completely sober you’d never tell him, but you weren't sober.

“It’s not necessarily something you’d get me… more something you’d… do,” you murmured, lips tugging up in a wry smirk as you glanced at him. He tilted his head, dark eyes assessing you for a moment.

“Alright, I’m curious,” he drawled with a small smile.

You licked your lower lip, shifting in your seat a little and resting your elbow along the back of the bench seat, bringing you slightly closer to him.

“Okay so… you can totally say no, but you asked so I’m just gonna come out with it. You're not allowed to be weirded out or hold it against me,” you said, levelling him with a firm look. Both his brows raised at that, an apprehensive look on his face.

“Spit it out, Y/N,” he murmured with narrowed eyes. You blew out a long breath, taking the glass back from his hand and slurping some of it.

“My sex life’s been pretty… boring lately. It's always so vanilla, you know? I have this fantasy and honestly, I think you'd be perfect to fulfill it,” you said, looking him right in the eye thanks to the booze running through your veins. You watched as his brows almost flew off his head for a moment, mouth slightly agape as your words hit him. But then he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat a little as he tilted his head. His almost black eyes were pinning you in place and you idly wondered through the layers of alcohol in your brain if you'd just ruined your friendship.

It wasn’t like you thought he wasn't attracted to you, you knew he was. You’d met years ago through Curtis and you quickly became part of their friend group. For the first month after meeting Billy, he’d tried to get in your pants every time you saw him and you’d turned him down. You were flattered, he was hands down the most attractive man you'd ever seen. But Curt had warned you of his reputation and you preferred to have one night stands with people you didn't know. It was less awkward that way. It was after that first month when things changed with you and Billy though. The pair of you were supposed to meet Frank and Karen at the bar but they hadn't turned up. You later learned they'd been so wrapped up in each other they'd forgotten the plans. But it ended up being just you and Billy. You'd bonded over tequila and tragic backstories and since then, you'd been super close friends.

“What exactly is this fantasy of yours?” He asked. You didn't miss how his voice sounded deeper and it sent a shiver right through you. It wasn't an outright no, so you took that as a win at least.

“I mean… I don’t have specifics really. I have some ideas and stuff, things I’d like to try. And I don't feel comfortable doing it with some random guy, but I trust you so…” you trailed off, swishing the last bit of your red wine around in the glass. When you looked back up at him, his eyes were a little softer, a small smile playing on his lips. He leaned his arm on the bench, his hand by your hair as he toyed with it. It was something he did often and you always enjoyed it.

“Tell me what you got in mind,” he murmured as you leaned into his touch.

“Do you still have any combat gear?” You asked, biting your lip as you looked up at him. He looked mildly shocked for less than a second before a sly grin worked its way onto his face.

“Yeah… yeah I do,” he replied with a smirk.

“I have a thing for a guy in uniform, I mean who wouldn't? And I happen to know you look pretty good in it since I've seen the pictures,” you shrugged, sipping your wine. He seemed like he lit up at your praise and you almost laughed, it was kind of cute.

“What else? You want me to play dress-up, but what else you wanna try?” He asked softly. It was a valid question, clearly if you didn't trust some random guy to do what you wanted it was more than just putting on military gear.

You looked away for a moment but he tugged your hair, making you look back at him with a mild squint as he grinned at you, his brows raised expectantly.

“I’ve never tried anything… exciting. It's depressing, Billy! Its always boring old vanilla sex. I want to be dominated, I wanna be restrained, I wanna try things, you know? I wanna be choked, spanked, all of the good stuff,” you whined, letting it all out. He blinked at you for a long moment and he didn't speak, his face unreadable. You started to wonder if you’d broken him before he rolled his shoulder and a dark smirk graced his face. It made your lower belly clench. You'd never seen that look on his face before, but fuck if you didn't like it.

“Done,” he said simply, the slightly terrifying yet arousing smirk still on his lips. His eyes were alight with something you couldn't place as you looked at him skeptically.

“Really? Just like that?” You asked with a snort. You had no plans on telling him but you always thought if you did he’d say no or never speak to you again for even asking.

“Just like that,” he shrugged easily. With that, he switched topics to something else entirely and before long he’d walked you home after you finished your wine. Neither of you mentioned it again and you wondered if he would before your birthday happened or if he was bluffing and didn't want to outright say it to your face that he didn't want to fuck you.

Days went by pretty quickly and now it was the night before your birthday. Well, it was almost midnight so technically it was almost your birthday. You were sitting on the sofa in an oversized tee and your panties, watching reruns of The Walking Dead. The next day, your actual birthday, you’d be going to Karen and Franks for a little birthday get together with your friends. You yawned into your hand when suddenly your front door knocked firmly. You sat up straighter, now wide awake as you looked at it warily. You weren't expecting company at this time. You checked your phone to see it was dead on midnight before you got up and padded over to the door. When you looked through the peephole, no one was there. You took a step back feeling wary when the door knocked again, more impatient this time. With a deep breath you opened it but nothing could have prepared you for what was on the other side.

Billy was standing there decked out in his combat gear, the same kind you’d seen in the pictures of him and Frank overseas. It fit his frame perfectly and your eyes swept from his head to his feet before back up again, unable to help yourself. When they landed back on his face, he raised a brow, a smirk on his lips. In all honesty, you’d forgotten about it. He hadn't mentioned it once since it happened and acted like you’d never asked such a thing of him and it had completely slipped your mind. But now your body was thrumming with excited and nervous energy and you found your voice rendered useless.

“Gonna let me in?” He asked teasingly. You nodded, quickly stepping out of his way and shutting the door behind him. It was then you noticed a black duffel thrown over his shoulder. Before you had a chance to ask about it, he spoke up.

“Sit down,” he commanded. His tone of voice felt like someone zapped you with an electric current.

“Yes, sir,” you replied instantly, not even meaning to do it. But the way his eyes flared at your words told you he very much enjoyed it.

You moved to sit at the dining table, hands shaking slightly from the anticipation of whatever was to come. The Billy currently in your apartment wasn't the one you were used to. He dumped the bag heavily on the table with a thud and your eyes were drawn to it before you looked back at him. He was standing tall beside the table, looking down at you, his hands clasped behind his back as his eyes regarded you in a way that made you squirm.

“Here's how this is gonna go. Safeword is tequila. You don't like somethin’, speak up. It's all about you, you don't gotta just roll with somethin’ ‘cause you think it's what I want. You have the power to stop it, but while I’m here, I’m in charge. I tell you to do somethin’, you do it or there'll be consequences. We clear?” He asked roughly. There was no smirk on his face now, it was serious as his dark eyes bore into you and you swallowed thickly.

It wasn't lost on you the safeword he’d picked and you felt slightly reassured that while he was clearly asserting his dominance over you right now, he was also letting you know that ultimately, you were the one with the power to call it off.

“Crystal, sir,” you replied, a wry smirk tugging at your lips. He didn't smirk or grin like you expected but you noticed his nostrils flare slightly and his shoulder roll. He unzipped the bag harshly then and inclined his head to it. You stood up to get a better view of what was inside.

Your breathing hitched a little as you rifled through the contents of what he’d gotten you. Even when you'd asked him for this you hadn't expected him to put so much effort into it. In a weird way, it was quite touching.

“Anythin’ you wanna try, get it out and put it on the table,” he instructed. You picked out a silk blindfold, a pair of handcuffs and a paddle. You pushed some of the other things aside in the bag and saw a large black knife at the bottom. Your breathing hitched a little as you took it out, turning it in your hand as your mind ran away with itself. You glanced curiously to Billy then and his cool facade broke when a dirty smirk painted his lips, his eyes dancing with mischief and amusement. He raised one brow, almost in a challenging manner, goading you to see if you'd take the bait. You held eye contact with him as you set the knife on the table and he bit down on his lower lip as his eyes darkened.

You turned back to the things you'd gotten out then. You didn't want to overwhelm yourself and you really wanted to try these out. Suddenly Billy was pressed right up against you from behind and you felt like you couldn't breathe. He’d always smelt good but right now it seemed to be intoxicating and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

“What’re your thoughts on temperature play?” He purred down your ear, making you shiver. Your brain felt hazy with him being so close.

“I uh… I’d like to try it,” you mumbled, feeling like you were drunk or high or some shit. He growled and you felt him tense up behind you, but then his large hand was gripping your jaw and roughly turning it to the side to look at him leaning over your shoulder. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that shouldn’t have you so aroused but it did.

“Wanna try that again?” He asked in a low voice. You swallowed thickly, taking a shaky breath.

“I’d like to try, sir,” you replied softly, wondering if that was what he was after. He smirked almost smugly then, slightly mocking as his hand eased up but didn't let go. He leaned in closer and you felt your head spin.

“Good girl,” he praised. You were pretty sure your panties were soaked at this point and you almost purred at his praise. His chuckle made you think he was quite aware of how much you liked it. For a moment, he leaned even closer and you were pretty sure he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to. But then he moved away, a devilish smirk on his lips as he raised his brows at you. He was toying with you. The very visible bulge in his pants let you know this wasn't something he was doing because he felt like he had to since you’d asked. He was very much enjoying this.

“Bedroom, now. Get undressed,” He commanded firmly as he handed you the pile of items you picked.

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked, excitement gripping you so tight you could barely breathe as you scurried off to your bedroom. You blew out a large breath when you got in there, trying to stop your head from spinning. This new version of Billy was something else entirely and way more than what you thought it would be. You set the items on the nightstand, the knife lingering in your hand for a long moment. Knife play was one of the more dangerous kinks you'd been fascinated by but there was no way you'd trust anyone else with it. You turned the knife in your hand a little, admiring it.

“Thought I told you to do somethin’,” his growl from behind you startled you and the knife clattered to the nightstand. You whipped around to face him with wide eyes. He looked angry, but you knew better. Something was dancing behind his eyes that told you he very much enjoyed the fact he had a reason to assert his dominance over you. It shouldn't have thrilled you as much as it did.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you murmured softly, watching him as he stalked over to you. His hand darted out, gripping your jaw and making you look up at his dark eyes. You felt breathless.

“What did I say would happen if you didn’t do as you were told?” He asked roughly. You swallowed thickly, body running with a fine tremor.

“There would be consequences, sir,” you replied in a breathy voice. You noticed the way his eyes darkened a little and he stared at you for a long moment before letting go of your face.

“Hands and knees on the bed,” he ordered, his face like thunder as if waiting to see if you’d say no. You didn’t though. This was so far from vanilla and better than what you’d ever imagined. There was no way you were stopping this. You also wouldn't lie, seeing this version of Billy was intriguing and hormone inducing.

Your heart was hammering as you went over to the bed and got on your hands and knees. You felt slightly embarrassed presenting yourself to Billy of all people like this but you heard a soft groan when you arched your ass in the air and you bit your lip with a smile. Your oversized sleep shirt had ridden up a little and your small lace panties were now on display.

You glared at your sheets as you braced yourself for whatever might be coming your way. But then a sharp stinging erupted from your right ass cheek and you let out a mix between a surprised yelp and a moan. It hurt yet it felt good and you were confused but wildly turned on. It had felt cold and hard and you knew it wasn't his hand. It was the paddle.

But then his large warm hand smoothed over the stinging skin, soothing the burning there and you arched back at his hand unable to help yourself.

"You're gonna learn to be a good girl for me," you heard his rough voice from behind you.

"Yes, sir," you murmured instantly, like you were starting to be conditioned in your responses. He hummed, palming your ass for a moment, giving you ample time to say the safeword yet you didn't. You felt the second sting harder on your already sore flesh and you bit your lip with a moan. You lowered your top half, forehead pressing into the sheets as your thighs shook a little from how turned on you were. His hand once again soothed the skin afterwards and you pushed back at him.

The third smack was the harshest and you whimpered, fists bunching in the sheets as you felt the pain and pleasure shoot right through you. You hummed when his hand softly caressed the skin you knew would be red and then you felt him place a kiss to it and you smiled through your delirium. You felt the bed shift behind you and then his hand smoothed up your back over your shirt. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling but then suddenly he had a fistful of your hair and he gave it a tug, making you moan. He was leaning over your body, looming over you as he leaned in near your ear.

"On your back, Y/N," his tone was commanding and low but he gave your neck a cheeky nip that was in contrast to the harsh grip on your hair. Your head was spinning. He let go and you wasted no time in rolling onto your back. You hissed a little at how sore your ass cheek was and you heard him chuckle darkly. Your eyes moved to him then and you saw the way his eyes dragged across your body as you lay there. You felt your cheeks heat up, basking in the way he seemed to drink you in. His eyes connected to yours then and he flashed you a slightly terrifying smirk. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he kicked off his boots and then pulled off his shirt. He kept on his camo pants as he moved to the nightstand.

You weren't sure what he'd grabbed but then he was straddling you and caging you in with his long legs either side of you. He dangled the blindfold in front of you and your breathing picked up in excitement. When your eyes met his again, you could see he was giving you another chance to back out. You didn't though. You closed your eyes for him and he carefully placed the blindfold on, tying it gently.

It was a strange sensation not being able to see. You felt vulnerable but you also knew you were safe with Billy. You had to rely on your other senses to figure out what was going on. He grabbed your wrists and put them above your head. You felt his thumbs softly swipe over them before you felt the cold metal of the handcuffs clip around one wrist. He tugged it closer to the headboard and you heard a noise before he pulled your other arm up and clipped the handcuffs around it. You tugged a little and realised he threaded them through the headboard, you weren't getting out of this anytime soon. You didn't want to.

You felt him move away from you and you felt the loss instantly. You listened to his quiet footfalls as he moved off the bed and you found yourself laying there in anticipation. The bed dipped again but then your legs were bent at the knee, legs parted and he settled between them.

"Stay still," he warned. You were unsure why until you felt cold metal dragging along your thigh. A soft moan left your lips and you concentrated on keeping your body completely still despite the desperate need to move.

The blade trailed up your body and under your shirt. You felt it gently glide up your stomach and up your sternum. Then his other hand pulled the shirt taut and you heard the material rip as he cut in right down the middle. The air felt cold as the shirt pooled at your sides, exposing your breasts. You heard a growl rumble from him and your chest was heaving. You felt him lean right over your body, his breath hitting your ear and making you squirm.

"So goddamn beautiful," he purred, making you whine a little.

"Sir… please, I wanna see," you pleaded softly, tugging at the handcuffs a little. You really wanted to see the knife. Wanted to watch him with it. You felt him lean up once more so you continued.

"Please, Lieutenant. Let me see," you begged desperately, not a care for how needy and wanton you sounded.

The blindfold was yanked up roughly and your eyes struggled to adjust for a second. You were startled when he gripped your jaw in his knife free hand and leaned right into your face.

"Say that again," he demanded, eyes wild and dark as he stared you down.

"Lieutenant please, I wanna see the knife," you murmured breathlessly. He groaned, closing the distance as he captured your mouth in a dirty kiss. The first kiss he'd given you all night. You moaned and melted into it, willingly letting him dominate your mouth with his tongue.

When he pulled away he was looking at you like it was the first time he was actually seeing you and all you could do was blink up at him dumbly for a moment. Then he was kneeling back up between your legs. Your eyes went to the knife as he twirled it in his hand. You bit your lip, eyes glued to it and he moved it back to your shirt. He sliced through the short sleeves so he could pull off the offending material and toss it across the room. His dark eyes were staring at where the knife was touching your skin, his lips parted a little. You took in the sight of him this turned on and felt something stir inside of you knowing it was you that was doing that to him.

Your eyes went back to the knife as you felt it gently trace down between the valley of your breasts and to your stomach. You couldn't look away as the blade slipped under one side of your panties, slicing through the lace with ease. He moved to the other side then and repeated the same motion. His free hand grabbed the ruined panties and tugged them away and you felt your cheeks heat up at how his dark eyes devoured the sight of you wet and spread wide for him. When his eyes connected with yours once more, they were intense and you almost forgot to breathe.

Then he was leaning over and tugging the blindfold back down and you whined softly at the loss of sight again. You heard him chuckle and then what sounded like the knife clattering on the nightstand again. Then he was up and off the bed and you were sure he'd left the room. You felt a sudden surge of panic despite knowing he just wouldn't leave you there like this. But you tugged on the handcuffs roughly as you wriggled around on the bed. The second you heard him come back into the room, you stilled completely.

Your breathing was erratic, excited and anxious as you bit your lip and waited to see what would happen. You were sure he was being this quiet on purpose. Billy loved to talk yet he was being pretty quiet as he went about doing whatever he was doing. You were sure it was to keep you on edge and it was working.

You felt him kneel back between your legs and you sucked in a breath of anticipation. You suddenly felt something hot drip onto your chest and you hissed a little, back arching at the sensation as it cooled. Hot wax, you mused. Nothing happened for a long moment but you didn't utter the safeword and eventually you felt it happen again. You moaned softly as you writhed, feeling it drip onto your breasts and stomach. You felt his large hand smooth up your stomach slowly and you arched up at his touch like you were needy for it. You wished you could see his face right now, see what he looked like as he did this to you.

He grabbed your right breast firmly and then you felt the hot wax drip onto it and on your nipple and you let out a louder moan as your back arched. The whole thing was so sensual and you'd never experienced anything like it. He hadn't even really touched you yet, not where you were aching at least.

You felt him shifting but he didn't move completely from between your legs. Your brain felt hazy from your arousal as you lay there helplessly and waited for whatever he had planned for you next. You gasped, body tense as you felt an ice cold sensation on your stomach. You mused he'd got some ice cubes from your freezer or something as you felt him slide it up your skin. You squirmed under the cold, squirming more as it trailed to your breast. He chuckled at how much you were moving and cursing under your breath when he circled your nipple with it.

The cold was removed then and the trail of water the ice cube left behind left a chill on your skin. It was nothing compared to the sensation of a freezing cold mouth suddenly sucking on your left breast though. His tongue was icy as he lapped at it and suckled on it greedily as your back bowed a little as needy moans left your lips. He moved away and you let out a whine, almost pouting and making him chuckle darkly at your needy reaction. But then he was placing ice cold open mouthed kisses on your lower belly and spreading your thighs wide open with his hands.

You had no words for the noise you made when he gave you a teasing lick from your entrance to your clit with his cold tongue. You arched up at him and gasped as he started sucking on your clit greedily with a moan. You tugged at the handcuffs, a strong urge to pull at his hair nagging at you. He had you gasping and your thighs shaking in no time but before you got right to the edge, he moved away.

"Whyyy?" You whined pitifully. A sudden but not too hard smack hit you right between your thighs and your exposed clit and you moaned in shock. You hadn't really expected being spanked there to turn you on, yet it really fucking did.

"Behave yourself, sweetheart," his tone was warning and rough and it only served to send another flood of arousal through you.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," you murmured quietly, chest heaving as your body felt like a string pulled taut.

"Good girl," he purred, his fingers dragging through your soaked folds and lazily circling your clit. You arched at his hand, needing more but not getting it.

"So wet for me, Y/N. Bet you're needy for my cock in you, aren't you?" You could hear his smirk and you knew it would be the menacing one from earlier.

"Yes, sir. Please," you begged, unashamed as you squirmed against his teasing fingers. He hummed as he slipped two inside of you and you gasped, mouth falling open.

He was still teasing, fucking you at painfully slow pace with them as you moaned and pushed back onto them more, making him groan.

"Beg for it, sweetheart. Tell me how much you want this tight pussy to take my cock," he demanded roughly.

"Billy, please. I don't want it, I need it. Please fuck me, just fucking destroy me," you pleaded wantonly. You figured your desperation was enough for him because he didn't punish you for using his name. In fact, he moaned at your words and his fingers suddenly left you. You felt him moving around, heard him unzipping his pants and practically rip them off rapidly.

Then you were gloriously full with a large and thick cock in one swift movement and you let out a keening moan that blended with his deep groan. His large hands gripped hold of your hips roughly as he started railing into you like his life depended on it. You'd never been fucked quite like this before and your whole body was jostling from the force of it. You were moaning like a bitch, the noises tumbling from your lips without consent but you didn't care. His own pleased noises only heightened your pleasure and your back arched as you met each thrust.

A dirty moan left his mouth and you felt him lean over you, felt the bed dip on your left side and then felt him lift your right leg and hitch it over his hip, spreading you even further. It seemed to make him go in deeper and you tugged at the handcuffs as you felt the need to find purchase on something as he fucked you at a savage pace. His moans were right in your ear now and you squirmed on his cock, making him growl and pick up his pace.

You were already teased beyond comprehension and your moans got higher and higher the closer you got. You felt like you were dangling on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the moment you went careening off the edge. Another hard and deep thrust later and you were free falling. Your moans seemed to bounce off the walls as your back arched so much you'd probably look possessed. The hand on your thigh moved to your throat then, slender fingers applying some pressure as he fucked you. A second orgasm snuck up on you out of nowhere with that and you cried out as you writhed on his cock. His fingers tightened around your throat a little as he rut into you harder, sinful moans turning into feral growls as his thrusts got more erratic

You were floating on cloud nine when he let out a deep groan, hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside of you. His body sagged, leaning on you a little as he rested his head on your shoulder. You'd never felt this thoroughly fucked before and you were sure your brain had melted. You whined softly when he pulled out of you and you felt him move around. You felt the pressure on your wrists release and then the handcuffs being removed. He kissed the skin there softly and you smiled sleepily to yourself. Then the blindfold was gently being pulled away from your face.

You hummed softly, forcing your eyes to open when you felt him lay down next to you. You squinted them as you blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the light once more. You rolled into your side to face him and you were sure you were glowing. He was already looking at you and he gave you a dopey grin, making you snort softly.

"Enjoy yourself?" He asked wryly. He had a slightly smug tone to his voice and you were sure it was because he knew damn well you did.

"That was… the best birthday gift ever. You're uh… really good at the whole… sex thing," you murmured with a stupid smile, brain still not quite working. Something flashed behind his eyes at your praise and his smirk widened.

"The sex thing, huh?" He asked, amused.

"Shut up, you fucked the brain out of me," you protested with a whine. He laughed, shaking his head as he moved to lay on his back.

You watched him, fully expecting him to get up and leave now he'd fulfilled what he came for. Instead, he shot you a smile as he pat his chest, raising a brow at you. You wriggled over to him before laying your head on his chest, curling around him. His arms came around you then making you feel safe and you smiled to yourself. He stroked your hair softly as your eyes fluttered closed.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he murmured sleepily. You hummed in response, already on the cusp of sleep after what he'd done to you. You had no idea if he'd be there in the morning and you'd worry about getting clean then too. Right now your body needed rest. You drifted to sleep feeling exhausted and like you were floating on a cloud.

Taglist:

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 304: The Council of OFA

Previously on BnHA: Hawks and Best Jeanist were all, “what up Todofam, we are here to apply for the positions of ‘son #4’ and ‘weird uncle’, respectively,” and then proceeded to insert themselves into the family drama without waiting for an answer. Hawks briefed Endeavor on the nation’s current status of “totally fucked”, promised to help him sort that out, and then asked him about OFA. Endeavor was all, “oh do you mean One For All, the mysterious thing that my intern Deku was apparently being targeted for?” and then we cut away, presumably before Endeavor could clarify that it never occurred to him to follow up on that, and Hawks was all “no of course not, why would it occur to anyone other than me to follow up on any of this super weird and ominously important shit.” Anyway so meanwhile Bakugou was all “LET ME SCREAM AT DEKU UNTIL HE WAKES UP” and the other kids were all “NO”, and then the chapter ended with All Might being all “I wonder what the vestige!me is currently chatting with Deku about.”

Today on BnHA: Deku drops in on the Vestiges, who are all “sup Deku, how do you like our fancy chairs.” OFA II and III are all “if you need us we’ll just be standing here silently in the corner pretending to be invisible and sparking endless discourse with our mere existence.” OFA IV is all “and now I will explain to you in a very convoluted way that you being quirkless was actually a good thing, since it means that you are probably not going to suddenly drop dead at the age of twenty. But also you’re probably going to be the last user of OFA for that very same reason.” Deku is all “that is wild. I’m just gonna stand here and stare at my hand.” Nana is all “so now that that’s settled could you please do me a small favor and kill my grandson for me”, because having just one topic to discourse about this week WASN’T ENOUGH, apparently. Thanks so much Horikoshi.

(ETA: okay so just a note before I start, this week’s RHA translation was a huge mess, so I followed up this chapter by reading a couple of other translations. the main one I’m using for reference is the one by @hanashimas, whose weekly posts I highly recommend. anyway so you’ll see a couple of ETAs in this post in places where the initial translation was off.)

how many layers of bandages did they wrap this poor kid’s fucking hand in omg

jesus Deku. are you holding onto a bouquet of flowers under that thing?? or a tennis racket??

omg yes, finally

is he reading these names off a teleprompter lol. and if so, what has Jeanist ever done to slight you, Deku? “god bless Kacchan and Aizawa-sensei and Todoroki-kun and everyone else in the whole wide world... except for Best Jeanist. fuck that guy.” actually this joke would be funnier if half of tumblr didn’t legit feel that way lol but anyway

OH MY GOD

I NEED TO HAVE A TALK TOO. ABOUT, OH, EVERYTHING

I got immediate KHR vibes from ALL OF THIS. this is seriously such a Vongola aesthetic. “let’s use the luxuriously cushioned chairs with the seat backs that are ten feet high, and arrange all of the handsome ghost people in a big circle” like come on

that said there are also some slight LoTR vibes as well. “bring forth the ring, Deku”

I like how Six is sitting there with his feet drawn up all casual, but with his arms inexplicably sticking STRAIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF HIM and dangling over his knees like he’s doing some sort of zombie walk

apparently the Fourth wasn’t a big fan of shoes huh

interesting that All Might is the only one who’s still faint/indistinct, and and that Two and Three are fully visible

(ETA: the rest of my speculation about Two and Three has been moved into a separate post, the better to focus on the shit that’s actually happening in this chapter lol.)

and lastly, interesting that all of them are talking now, except for All Might (and I guess the Second and Third as well). to the best of my knowledge Deku hasn’t unlocked the Sixth’s quirk yet, so I guess the quirks don’t really have anything to do with it

oh and it looks like Deku’s mouth is still covered. I guess that’s convenient for the vestiges since we all know it’s hard to stop Deku once he gets going. but on the other hand it’s very inconvenient for people like me who wanted to see some interaction. alas

so First says that OFA’s power has grown a lot in the last four months (i.e. since Deku unlocked Blackwhip), and now the vestiges can communicate with each other as well as Deku

so even when Deku’s not around they can all just chill with each other. this is such a weird thing to me lol. like it’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also strange as hell to know that you’ve got eight other people hanging out in your head spying on everything you do and having conversations with each other about it. it would be like if Dark Shadow had someone to hang out with other than Tokoyami. good thing you weren’t triplets, Tokoyami

First says that it’s become easier for the vestiges to interact with Deku ever since TomurAFO barged into the OFA Domain back at Jakku. huh

(ETA: apparently this is because AFO forcibly pulled out OFA’s power when he was trying to steal the quirk, so I guess that makes sense.)

okay thank you Banjou for addressing this concern which I initially brought up as a joke, but which was apparently real enough for you to reassure Deku about

“don’t worry, even though we’re awake and hanging out inside of you at all times, we’re definitely not secretly watching and making fun of every single thing you do” hmmmmm

(ETA: “not that you could do anything about it even if we were, since you’re probably going to be the last OFA holder ever!” I don’t trust anything this asshole says lmao.)

OH SHIT??

YESSS DEKU now you can hold them accountable for all of their bullshit! because I do not doubt that there will be bullshit lol but let’s see how that goes

oh damn

well okay then. you didn’t have to stand up and walk over to him and loom all threateningly like that but okay sir

this guy has kind of a Kimimaro vibe to him. remember? that bone-growing guy from Naruto? except I’m pretty sure he had eyebrows. and wasn’t twenty feet tall. speaking of which, that explains the chairs

why are you wearing only 3/5ths of a shirt

lol what

someone’s gonna have to explain this to me. is he just redundant or something lol, or is he strangely poetical or what

(ETA: apparently HE’S MAKING A PUN omg. I immediately gained +10 love for him lol. also it flows a lot better in Japanese. this is one of the things Caleb is usually good at, so we’ll see what he does with the wordplay.)

omg the hermit theory is true!!

“I’M NOT WEIRD, IT’S SOCIETY WHICH IS WEIRD.” lol whatever you say buddy. also love how Banjou tried to give him a big hearty slap on the back but Hermit Boy was not having it lmao

IS HE TRYING TO CAPTURE HIM WITH BLACKWHIP

AND ACTUALLY, NO, SIR, AS A MATTER OF FACT, WE ARE NOT AWARE. SO SPILL!!

?!!?

okay my first response was LOL ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S THE BIG SECRET!? -- and then it hit me what the significance of “died from old age... AT AGE FORTY” meant. at which point it was like “!!!!!” and then “OH, SHIT”

(ETA: there’s also an Iida joke here somewhere but I’m just too tired to make it.)

oh my god oh my god

did he somehow get a copy of the coroner’s report or something? like how does he even know that he died from “old age” as opposed to any number of other natural causes? ??

but anyway. so this is the quirk singularity coming into play then I guess. but then how come All Might is still alive and ticking?

(ETA: so this is one example of where this week’s translation is a mess lol. apparently the Fourth explains here that he didn’t know what the fuck he died from until All Might researched it. and it turns out there actually was an autopsy lol so there you go.)

so Fourth says he held OFA for eighteen years, and since he knew he would never be strong enough to defeat AFO on his own he basically just spent all his time punching rocks in the woods and training to power the quirk up

oh shit

is he implying that his body literally fell apart?? like that’s how he got the scars on his face? -- IS THAT WHAT KEEPS HAPPENING TO TOMURA, THEN. oh shit

DUDE

so you’re telling me that this quirk actively shortens the lifespan of anyone who uses it?? and my little boy here has had it now for a year already?? fuck me, I have immediately have a TON of thoughts about all this but let me save it until he’s done with his explanation

THANK YOU, DEKU

right?? how come All Might didn’t die then. even after he got injured. please don’t tell me he actually is dying still and is just being slow about it because I SWEAR TO GOD

what does this mean??

so what you’re trying to say is you all have NO FUCKING IDEA how long Deku’s gonna be able to hold this quirk before he SUDDENLY DROPS DEAD?! five generations ago this dude was able to hold it for eighteen years, and then four generations later All Might was able to hold it for thirty-odd years or so, and now Deku has it and you all have no clue which way it’s gonna go? actually this makes it sound like it really wasn’t OFA that killed the Fourth at all and you guys are just really bad at forming hypotheses. but since you’re making a big plot point out of it I guess it must be true

and don’t think I didn’t notice the part where you said you didn’t have OFA very long and then “died while fighting”, Firsto. I want to hear more about that. specifically who you passed the quirk onto before your death

and yes, if we are agreeing that OFA was the cause of the Fourth’s death, then the conclusion on this next page is the natural one to draw

so that’s a bit of a relief then, because Deku is quirkless too. so it means he won’t be able to hold OFA forever (and will probably have to find another quirkless person to pass it on to), but at least he won’t be randomly dying out of the blue next Tuesday or something

oh my god now he’s talking about OFA and AFO and user consciousnesses and all sorts of good theory stuff but it’s so much exposition. you’re really gonna make me read all this lol

wait what. why would All Might being quirkless have anything to do with the presence of his vestige in OFA Outer Space Party Land

but Deku is also quirkless and he’s clearly visible and chatting with you guys. so what gives. like how much of this is verified fact and how much of it is you guys just shrugging and making stuff up lol

SERIOUSLY, GUYS

BUT DEKU IS ALSO -- you know what, never mind sob. none of this shit makes any sense but whatever

(ETA: seriously, this all seems like an awful lot of speculation on their part. for Deku’s sake I sure hope they’re right.)

FSSKDJFLSKLKJLKJL ALL MIGHT IS FIFTY-FIVE?!

lol that’s a full ten years past my closest estimate, wow. but this pretty much confirms his age now at last! or at least confirms it within a couple of years, because we know All Might and Nana met when he was in middle school, and he presumably had the quirk by the time he took the U.A. entrance exam. so yeah. gonna go with fifty-five

so they think that because All Might was quirkless, OFA was better able to adapt to his body and became his true quirk, as opposed to being an extra quirk that stacked on top of the one he already had and overwhelmed him. ties in back to the whole “AFO used to bend people to his will by forcing quirks on them” thing, as well as the “Noumus are all mindless because of the strain of having multiple quirks”

Two and Three are really ruining the serious vibe of this scene here lol

they look like they’re doing the counting for hide and seek

and is this Deku talking now? I was about to get mad at First for implying that quirkless people are somehow freaks, as opposed to “normal” people jdslk

so in other words, don’t go giving it to your best friend all casually for shits and giggles, Deku. even if it would make a really cool climax for a movie. well shit. maybe that’s why they were so quick to nope back into Deku’s body afterward

so First says that because quirkless people are becoming rarer and rarer, the fact that All Might just happened to stumble upon Deku is “nothing short of a miracle.” which, yeah, that was definitely a stroke of luck there. being quirkless saved his life. but being quirkless is also part of why he was chosen in the first place, and we’ve always known that much

“in other words, kiddo...”

looks like there was some hurried clone stamp usage going on here lol. but props to RHA as always for putting this scan out so fast, especially given how exposition-heavy this week’s chapter has been

“anyways, that was the main topic” ARE YOU SERIOUS. there are like ten other topics imma need you all to get to here, people

(ETA: seems like this is a mistranslation; the line should actually read something more along the lines of “and now for the main topic.”)

FFFFFFFFF

“ENJOY YOUR CLIFFHANGER THIS WEEK.” dskfalkjlkjwlgkjl you really went and dumped this discourse on us yet again. fucking...

(ETA: forgot to mention, but as several people mentioned, this seems to be another mistranslation -- rather than asking Deku to kill Tomura as though it’s doing her a personal favor, Nana is asking “will you be able to do it.” in other words more of an “are you capable of doing it” type of thing. which is a very reasonable question to ask given that Deku is, well, Deku.)

anyways, and the answer is obviously going to be “no” of course. this isn’t going to end any differently than when the previous Avatars all told Aang to kill Ozai. but I guess it means we’re in for a fun conversation next week

so Nana looks pretty grim here though (nothing at all like the person who once taught All Might the importance of saving people with a smile), and I’m wondering if this means she believes that her grandson is already beyond saving. as in killing him would be a mercy, as opposed to him continuing to live with AFO bending his mind and body to his will. except if that is the case, I think she’s underestimating Tomura’s own will. and definitely underestimating Deku’s will to save

and also, just... I’m so fucking sick of AFO screwing the Shimura family over, honestly. this is exactly what he wanted. well fuck you, guy. you don’t get to have what you want. go out there and save Tomura, Deku. for his sake and for Nana’s. give them some hope. do your thing, boy. can’t wait for your big speech all about it next chapter lol

#bnha 304 #midoriya izuku #all might #ofa prime #ofa iv #idk what his name is I forgot it already lol #the actual forty-year-old man #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

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meigh-day · 3 years

Text

Meet Cute (Tendou x F!Reader)

Title: Meet Cute

Pairing: Tendou x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Status: Complete

Word Count: 2.1k

———————————————————–

"I can do this..." You mumble to yourself, eyes focused on the single page menu in your hands. The words scrawled across the page wanted to seem familiar but only a couple managed to find their meaning while the rest just sat there taunting you. Maybe choosing to eat out was a bad idea. It had been only a couple of weeks since you'd uprooted your whole life and moved to beautiful Paris. Sure, your apartment wasn't the prettiest or the biggest and yea maybe not actually speaking a word of French prior to moving wasn't the brightest idea but you couldn't say you regretted the decision. Not yet anyway. A kind looking waitress approached your table, pen poised to take your order as she spoke to you. Her words came quick and left you staring up at her with an awkward smile while she stared at you, expectantly at first and then confused when you said nothing.

"Oh... uh... un moment..." Is all you finally manage to stammer out in your very limited French. She sighs a bit but nods and disappears back inside, leaving you to stare a bit longer at the menu as you worry your lip between your teeth. With a sigh you place the menu flat on the table. Resting your chin in your palm as you stare out at the bustling street before you. People wandered by, laughing with friends, arms full of shopping or flowers, hands intertwined as soft words passed between them. It seemed familiar in a way, watching others pass by on their way to or from some place. Yet, that familiarity only seemed to make you feel all the more alienated, amplifying that feeling of loneliness that was starting to creep up on you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, your train of thought derailing immediately after as you realize someone was talking to you and you'd absentmindedly acknowledged them.

"Ah, sorry!" You sit up, turning your attention towards the source. An amused smile greets you as a pair of sharp red eyes catch your own. For a moment you sit stunned, mind stuck on one word: pretty. A short chuckle brings you back and you clear your throat as you try to think of something, anything to say to this stranger. "Uhm... Ah... P-pardonner monsieur." You offer up a stammered apology, though you aren't sure if you are sorry for not hearing what he said or for deciding to grace this café and the city with your inadequate French. Both maybe?

He laughs and shakes his head before pointing to the seat across from you as if to ask permission. You nod, offering him a somewhat nervous smile as you watch him take a seat. He was tall and thin with the prettiest red hair you had ever seen. He squints his eyes at you a moment before plucking the menu from the table and reading it over. With nothing else to occupy your attention, you watched him, curious why he had decided to approach a complete stranger.

"Hmm, do you like sweet stuff?" He questioned, eyes peering at you from atop the menu, not a hint of French accent in a single syllable.

You smile and nod, humming in affirmation before your eyes widen. "Wait... You speak... You're not..." A sigh of relief passes your lips as you relax in your chair, grateful to not have to stammer and stutter through the minimal French you'd managed to remember. The red headed man snickered at your obvious relief, hiding his smirk behind the menu.

"Geez, you poor thing. I admire your courage."

"Courage?"

"Yea. I didn't try my hand at dining out for like the first 2 or 3 months." He lowered the menu, his smirk now visible to you as he placed the menu back down on the table.

"Oh, heh, yea probably not the smartest move. It just smelled really good and my stomach overruled my brain."

He nodded, almost as if to say he understood the feeling before glancing back up at you. "I know we just met and all but do you trust me?" He taps the menu as he asks, indicating the reason behind his question.

"I might be inclined to trust you a little more if I knew your name..." You chuckle, watching his eyes widen in the realization that not a single word of introduction had passed between you. The smirk that had been on his lips is replaced by a sweet smile, his squinted red eyes soften as his whole express shifts from that slightly mischievous one he'd been wearing to a rather warm one.

"Ah, yea. It's Tendou, Tendou Satori."

Several minutes later, introductions now over and your order placed by the very gracious man before you, you two sat chatting back and forth. Both curious what had brought each of you to Paris, almost equally as unprepared. You found out Tendou was attending school to get his associates degree in bakery and pastry arts with the intent on training to become a chocolatier after. You stared at him, eyes wide with excitement as he spoke very animatedly about his latest project.

"But yea, not super exciting or anything." His own excitement dwindled a bit, nervousness settling in as he realized he'd been prattling on about himself for the last ten minutes.

"That sounds incredible!" You finally say. It had been so fun watching and hearing him talk about something he clearly loved.

"What about you?"

"Me? Ah..." The main reason you'd come to Paris was school. Well that's what you told people when asked and it was true. Though you couldn't deny to yourself the underlying reason for moving halfway across the word was to get away from your family. They had wanted you to stay local, go to college and work at your uncles company when you graduated. What a nicely planned future, all neat and packaged with a bow. It wasn't what you wanted though and you expressed that on many occasions. In the end you decided that if you were going to go to school for what you wanted you might as well do it as far away as possible while you were at it. Not wanting to unpack any of that though you gave him a very watered down version of why you'd come to Paris.

Tendou could tell as you spoke that something was missing from your story. Maybe it was the way your eyes shifted around as you spoke, or the stiff smile on your lips, but it was clear to him you maybe weren't telling the whole truth. Though considering he was more or less a perfect stranger, he couldn't fault you for that. Just as you were wrapping up your food arrived so any further talk regarding your coming to Paris halted in favor of eating whatever deliciousness Tendou had kindly ordered.

"Ah, that was so good." You breath out happily, leaning back in your chair in an effort to alleviate the fullness in your stomach. Tendou gave you a wide grin as he set his empty cup down. "I did a pretty good job guessing at what you'd like then?"

"Mhm!" You agree enthusiastically. "God knows what I would have ordered if not for you. So.. uh..." You sit up a bit, fixing your eyes on him as your smile softens. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

He shakes his head, waving off your gratitude. "Nah don't worry about it." The waitress comes back around and leaves the bill, just the one, but before you can even think about how to fix this, Tendou has paid for the both of you.

"Oh no you don't have.. "

"Consider it a welcome to Paris gift." He stands and smiles down at you before slowly turning, a bit of reluctance in his step.

This was not how you had anticipated your lunch going. If anything you thought you might order something, hopefully delicious but at the very least edible, in your awful broken French and then go home. You couldn't fathom you'd end up meeting someone so kind and generous, who you maybe also thought happened to be the most beautiful person you'd ever seen. Yet you had, and now you were sat in your chair like a complete idiot watching his back grow smaller and smaller, he'd be lost in the crowd by now if not for his lovely hair.

"What am I doing?!" You harshly mutter to yourself as you stand, grabbing up your jacket and bag before breaking out into a run.

Tendou chewed on his lip as his feet carried him away from the small café. It wasn't like it was totally unusual for him to talk to strangers but he'd never just invited himself to eat with a complete stranger, pay for their meal and then leave. Yet here he was, having done all that, though the latter was being done rather reluctantly. Part of him wanted to turn around and go back to you. You'd only spent the better part of an hour together but he was curious about you. There was something that had drawn him towards you. At first he thought he'd gone to you out of the desire to help, and that was part of it to be sure, but maybe there was more to it. Sure your wobbly French had drawn him over but that wasn't why he stayed. Was it the way you had smiled up at him? Or was it the way you sat and listened to him ramble on with actual interest? Perhaps it was the gentle look on your face when he'd caught you staring off into space. Whatever it was, it had his already slow pace halting.

"Tendou!" His eyes widen at the shout of his name, turning to see you waving at him as you run, reaching him a moment later half out of breath.

"Miss me already?" He jokes, watching as you lean down, bracing your hands against your thighs while you attempt to catch your breath. He isn't kept waiting long as you stand upright, a nervous chuckle finally coming out in response to his initial reply.

"Kinda, yea."

"I-- uh... What?" Tendou falters as he tries to process what you just said, not trusting his ears.

"I know we really don't know each other but it seems like such a shame to just... ignore this."

"Ignore what?" He asks, genuinely confused.

"This!" You state as you frantically motion between the two of you. "I mean what're the odds we'd even meet. Besides, I don't know about you but I don't really know anyone around here and it'd be really nice to change that..." You end with a shrug, starting to second guess this whole endeavour as you watch Tendou stare down at you. His dark red eyes were wide at first, surprised that you had even bothered to run after him but even more so that you wanted to be...well friends or at the very least friendly. His look of surprise softened a moment, a smile on his lips before he narrowed his eyes at you, a glint of mischief in them.

"Sounds pretty suspicious to me but I suppose I can show you around or whatever." His smile widens, almost curling at the ends. "But it'll cost ya."

"C-cost me?" Oh no, maybe this was a bad idea. Perfect stranger remember?! "W-what?"

"Whoa now." He chuckles, holding his hands up in as if the action would ward off whatever dubious thoughts were drifting through your mind. "Just your number... It'd be pretty hard to show you around if I can't get a hold of ya."

"Oh... OH, yea right." You nod, cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. You pull out your phone and enter his details, not really sparing him a glance, too mortified by the assumptions that had sprung to mind.

"I'll text you so you have my number too." You mumble as you type a short message and hit send. A moment later you hear a ding and Tendou pulls out his phone.

"Ah, is that the time?!" He practically yells as the screen lights up, his carefree smile replaced with panic. "Shit, I gotta go!" He offers you an apologetic smile before hurrying away, leaving you a little startled by his sudden departure but overall happy with the outcome. Your grin down at your phone only to see it light up as it buzzes in your hand.

(02:37pm) Y/N: Hey it's Y/N :)

(02:41pm) Tendou: You Free tomorrow?

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #tendou x reader #tendou fluff #tendou #tendou satori

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

Late

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry has a reputation that makes you cautious and it’s caused some disagreements. Everyone thinks you hate each other, but maybe you don’t as much as you let on. (fluffy ending, and idk, maybe angst depending on your definition).

Words: 2880

Notes/Warnings: I made this like mid-20s Henry during the Tudors filming, season 1. If I messed up with tenses somewhere, I’d like it of you let me know. I started this story out in the past-tense then changed it to present so I might have missed some stuff when editing, even after reading it 100 times over.

At the sound of the doorbell, you hop up from your sunken spot on the couch. After the day you had, the Chinese food on the other side of that wood slab is the only thing with the ability to help you recover before you must face a fresh 5 a.m. morning with Henry tomorrow.

God, you want that man to fall off the face of the earth. You don’t care if his disappearance meant you would temporarily be out of a job. Being an assistant on the set of The Tudors was something you had strongly considered sacrificing in the past if it meant never having to work with one very particular, blue-eyed, temperamental actor ever again.

You almost quit weeks ago but told yourself to suck it up. You can’t afford to unintentionally cause drama at your workplace, not after your last job; and getting that kind of reputation is not what you are going for. Besides, filming for the first season is almost over, and you will gladly welcome the long break before everyone needs to report back for season two.

The smile you were fully prepared to give the delivery man falls entirely at the sight on the other side of the door.

“What the hell are you doing here,” You huff out.

Henry crosses his thick arms over his even thicker chest and frowns back at you. “I didn’t get my script.”

A headache is already forming just from his proximity and you don’t bother resisting the urge to rub at your temple. “Well, I sent it to your house a week ago.”

“And I didn’t get it, so clearly you didn’t do a very good job.”

With an eye-roll, you say, “Is there some reason you had to come all the way to my apartment and bug me for the script when I will see you first thing in the morning?”

“Everyone else will have had theirs longer, and I wanted to get a good start on learning my lines, so yes, I have a good reason for ‘bugging’ you, Y/N.”

You hate the way he says your name. It passes his lips so softly every time and makes your heart speed faster than your liking. If another man said your name like that, you’d fall for him in an instant, but no, Henry seemed to be the only man possessing that thick, honey-sweet voice.

“Whatever,” You groan and turn on your heel. In your office desk are two extra copies of each actors’ script for emergencies, but a simple text from Henry would’ve sufficed; this is hardly life or death.

‘Hey, never got my script. Can you bring a copy in the morning?’ So damn easy.

You turn your head back when Henry’s heavy footsteps hit your hardwood floors. “Hey, I didn’t say you could come in,” You snap, eyebrows drawn together.

“What kind of person would leave their guest outside?”

The sass in his tone makes you want to pull your hair right out of your scalp. “You’re not my guest,” You say, but your blatant aggravation does nothing to hinder him and his body is a foot away from yours before you know it. Inches he has on you forces you to look up just to meet the smirk on his face.

“Stop acting like you hate me,” He says as he reaches a hand to grab yours.

“Excuse me?!” You quickly swat that hand away. “I am not acting like anything! Any negative feelings you are sensing from me are one hundred percent genuine.”

Henry scoffs and crosses his arms once again. “Oh, please.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. He is unbelievable. Everything he does, everything he says, everything he is has had the power to make your whole body shake since the day you met him. “God, I can’t stand you!”

Walking away from him for the office, he follows close behind. “You know what, you’re not all that great either!” He yells at your back as you open the drawer of your desk to shuffle through the scripts. “You yap all damn day, talking to everyone else on set and making them laugh! You shoot that pretty smile in any direction and people flock to you like deranged birds!”

“So!” You pull out the script and hand it to Henry. Without giving it a glance, he snatches it from you and tosses it back on the oak wood surface of the desk.

“So? You’re distracting them from their jobs! We could probably get things done twice as fast if you weren’t around!”

“That’s—”

“And you are annoyingly beautiful!” He harshly interrupts. “Annoyingly! The men we work with will not shut up about it and I’m sick of listening to them talk about you the way they do! I end up hearing your name more times in a day than I hear my own, and I get called upon every five seconds! I’m practically forced to think about you!”

You blink at the increase in volume that makes the thin walls of your home quiver.

“I don’t know how many times your face manages to flash in my mind in the course of a week, but it’s starting to get to me!”

Your hands rise in disbelief before they slap back down to your sides. “That’s not my fault! But you’re one to talk! You’re well aware you’re ridiculously, unnaturally hot, and I fucking hate it! The women we work with won’t shut up about you. And you think I’m annoying? Imagine being surrounded by a pack of idiots that go on and on about how amazing you are, when the truth is, you’re so arrogant I can’t stand to be within two feet of you!”

When you try to walk past him, his hand wraps tightly around your upper arm. “Hey!”

“Leave me alone! I hate you!” You snarl at the rage in his eyes and try to shake him off you.

“You don’t hate me.”

You glare up at him. “Oh no?”

He gapes at you, seemingly stunned you have the gall to challenge him. The grip on your arm loosens until you are free. Winding his fingers through his chocolate locks, Henry shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “You are so...”

“So what? So irritating? So infuriating?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If I’m such a problem, then go.” Ignoring his words, you point a finger in the general direction of the nearest exit.

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Of course, I do!”

He quirks an eyebrow and cocks his head. “So you’re going to grab me with your tiny hands and throw me through the front door, is that right?”

“I can’t fucking lift you!” You yell.

“Then I’m staying!”

“I think you’re really not! You can’t just demand to stay here! That’s not how this works!”

“Why can’t you just—God damn it!” He stomps his way back into the living room, script forgotten, and reaches for the doorknob. You follow him and let out an exhausted breath of relief, but Henry whips around to you again before you have time to revel in the feeling. “You know what, no. I’m not going anywhere until we settle this bullshit between us. I’m not going to argue with you anymore. I’m not going to act like I dislike you. I’m not going to keep playing this game, because it’s clearly not getting me anywhere; in fact, it’s doing the opposite.”

“Getting you anywhere?” You mumble.

“This whole thing is fucking bullshit and I’m over it.” He swallows. “Tell me what I did.”

“What?”

“You keep saying you hate me but have never given me a reason, so what did I do?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you kidding? You were just telling me I suck at my job, yet at the same time you don’t think I have a reason to be mad. You glare at me during work, you act like I’m an inconvenience, you—”

“That’s not what I mean.” Henry grabs your hand, and for a reason you couldn’t place, you allow it this time. “At the beginning, when we met, what was it that caused a problem between us? I’ve gone over our first meeting in my head about a thousand times and cannot figure out how I upset you so much that you’re still mad after months.”

You slip your fingers out of his palm, looking to the floor.

“Please just tell me,” He begs. “Please, I--”

“You sleep with the women you work with.” You spit out.

When he stares at you in confusion, you wince and say, “I have this friend…kinda. She was an extra on Hellraiser and claimed that you slept with nearly every woman on set, herself included. When I told her I got this job she said you’d probably try to get in my pants if I wasn’t careful, and I’m not cautious enough about men as it is, so—”

“You were mad at me before we met for something I didn’t even do?” He isn’t angry or looking at you like you’ve lost your mind; more like he can’t believe that was all it was. As if he had a simple solution to the problem that planted its roots deep into the both of you months prior.

“Whether or not you did, it’s not like you’ve been an angel to me anyway,” You say.

“Because I fucking panic when someone I want doesn’t want me! And you’ve made it very clear that you do not want me! You always seem so angry and…and I’m not very smooth, ok!? I say shit I don’t mean!”

“So you do want to get in my pants?”

“No!” He says quickly, then after a beat, sighs. “Yes.”

You give no response, so he continues.

“I swear, despite how idiotic I have acted, I really like you, and I don’t know who your friend is or why she would tell you I slept with a bunch of women on set, but I didn’t.”

You have to look away from him. His eyes hold too much sincerity and all it does is confuse you. You have spent too much time pissed to feel comfortable with the idea that it was potentially all for no reason, so you hug your arms across your middle and take a step back from him.

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s late, Henry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You won’t meet his stare but can see from your peripherals his head slowly nod. You don’t look up until your front door closes softly behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You spend the earliest hours of the next morning sipping coffee before everyone else arrives for work, wondering if the night before actually happened or if it had just been a very realistic messy mix of a dream and a nightmare.

The sun rises and you watch as it ascends each inch until it’s planted high enough in the sky to warm your skin. He’d be here soon, looking for you, wanting answers for any questions you hadn’t given him the chance to ask.

So, what, he likes me now? He wants me? You can’t wrap your head around it. But you suppose it makes as much sense as you saying you hate him when really what you’ve been is nervous. You don’t want to be used again by some man with more power than you. Pulling yourself out of that hole was hard enough and you have no desire to trip and fall right back in.

“Y/N. You’re here early.”

You jump at the first voice to interrupt the peaceful silence. It was the last moment you’ll have to yourself for the next fifteen hours at least.

Turning your head, you smile at your boss. “Morning, Em.”

“Henry’s here early, too,” She says. “He asked me to let him know when you came in, but seeing as you’re already here, you think you could just head to his trailer now?”

No, you want to say. I’m not ready. “Sure.” You half-heartedly smile, dumping the last of your coffee in the nearest trash can.

Each crunchy step along the gravel to Henry’s trailer feels less sturdy than the one before. Though, he isn’t in his trailer when you find him, but standing out in a grassy patch, throwing a ball to Em’s dog, Leo. It makes your heart pump hard to see him so casually soft. It’s the first time you are looking at him when his eyes aren’t already on you.

Leo loyally returns the ball to Henry three more times before you gather the nerve to step up to his side.

“Em said you wanted to see me.”

You notice him hold in a breath when he registers your voice, then tossing the ball once more, he says, “I’d have gone looking for you myself if I knew you were here.”

You nod, but you’ve yet to look at one another.

“The makeup artists are gonna have a blast today trying to make me look decent,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t sleep all night. I spent it trying to figure out what to say to you but came up short.”

You scratch behind Leo’s large ears when he nudges your legs with his head. Henry gently grins, though you don’t see it. You shrug. “At least you don’t have as many scenes today.”

Henry chuckles. “That’s true.”

“I couldn’t think of anything to say to you either,” You say.

A moment passes as he blows out a deep sigh.

“Y/N…I don’t want to act like it didn’t happen. I know that’s what is easiest, but I meant what I said. The good parts, not the shit about you sucking at your job. You’re the best at your job.”

Finally meeting his eyes, the corners of your lips curve up just a bit.

“But I don’t expect you to feel the same about me.”

“Henry…”

He shakes his head and throws the ball for Leo after the pups persistent whimpering. “I’m not going to make things hard for you. Filming is almost over anyway and if you want, I’ll try to bother you as little as I can. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, it’s just…you like everyone around here except me, but I’ve liked you more than anyone else since the moment we met. It’s no excuse--”

“It’s ok.”

He looks at you. “It’s not.”

“It is.” Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm. He stares at the touch you give him as you continue. “I didn’t have a good reason for treating you like I hate you, not really.”

“So, you don’t…hate me?”

“…No.” You look away in shame. “And I have a better explanation for that.”

He blinks, clearly relieved that every horrible thing he figured you felt for him was not, in your heart, the truth. “You don’t owe me one.”

“I slept with my boss once,” You rush out. “And, um…got the same warning as I did with you: sleeps with the other women he works with, will try to do the same with me. He did and I let him because I thought he liked me, but…no. All it did was make me feel like an idiot in the end.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I made a mistake.” You shrug. And suddenly, admitting that out loud, confiding in someone, knocks some of the painful gears in your head loose. You’d never told anyone the truth about your past. “Look, this is going to sound really odd but,” You swallow. “…Don’t stop bothering me.”

“Wait,” He turns his body fully to you. “What?”

Your lips thin, but then you smile, inch up on your toes, and go to kiss his cheek. All you wanted to do was provide a little reassurance, to let him know that you now forgive every misunderstanding between you, but the kiss lands a little too far to the right and covers the end of his mouth.

Immediately, you pull back a few centimeters and feel heat flushing your cheeks, but Henry tilts his head the slightest. He takes a breath, giving you a chance to pull back further, but when you make no move to abandon him, he connects your lips again.

It feels good. He feels good. So good it shocks you how much you don’t want it to end. And when you part your lips and his tongue touches yours, you can’t stop your hands from sliding up his chest before roping around his neck and tugging him closer. Only then does he greedily grab at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt.

Leo’s bark separates you minutes later, though you’re reluctant to allow it. You glance at the dog, chuckling at his rapidly wagging tail as he watches the scene before him. But when you look back to Henry, his eyes are already glued to you, their hue a little brighter and a small smile on his face.

“I’ll bother you as much as you like,” He says and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*reposted for tag testing reasons.

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batgurl1989 · 3 years

Text

His Solace

Summary: August sneaks into the apartment after being away for months

Word Count: 1600

Warnings: Kissing... If that needs to be warned (?)

A/N: If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know :) This has not been beta-ed, all mistakes are mine.

Taglist: @rmtndew @princesssterek @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit

He moved silently through the apartment after quietly closing and locking the door. He stopped by the kitchen, the hood fan light bathing the room in a dim light, seeing dishes from dinner still stacked in the sink unwashed. One plate. One wine glass. The last sip of red wine pooled in the bottom, a smudge of lipstick on the rim. A clean place setting sat beside the sink, not yet put away.

He knew this was what you did every night, but it still left a stain on his soul every time he saw it. You were waiting for him, never sure if that night was going to be the night he would come home. Unfortunately, he could never offer you more than a vague guess of how long he would be away each time. He rarely turned on his personal phone until he landed safely back on home soil, and most of the time, he didn’t do it until he was in the parking lot of your apartment building. What greeted him this time was a couple of voicemails, each one sounding more desperate than the last. He knew you tried to keep how much you hurt because of his absence from him, but he was trained to hear the strain in people’s voices when they lied. And you had never been very good at lying. Another unfortunate thing was that he was great at it. Which worked well for his job, but not so much for having a relationship.

Setting his bag down carefully on one of the kitchen chairs, he moved further into the apartment. The hall floor had a few squeaks in it, but he avoided those deftly. For being considered “a hammer” by his job, he could move as silently as a cat when he wanted to.

The bedroom was open a crack, giving him a view of the bed, the covers hanging off half of it. Easing the door open, he took in your sleeping figure, one leg kicked out from under the covers, hugging the bundled mess to your body. The sheets were rumpled, and he decided that you had been fighting to find some shred of comfort in the empty bed. Another stain on his soul.

He stepped up to the side of the bed, careful not to trip on the comforter, his face softening as he looked down at you. Your hair was a mess of bedhead curls, and he noticed your face was tucked into the pillow he normally would have used. Reaching down, he carefully fingered one of your curls, a part of his heart he kept locked away while away for work expanding at its softness. August Walker didn’t believe in much, but since meeting you, you had become his church. His solace. His safe harbour in the storm that was his work life.

Regretfully letting go of your curl, he eased back out of the room. There was no way he would crawl into bed with you while wearing the ghosts of his last mission. He didn’t want to stain your soul with the things he had seen and definitely not with the things he had done. His shower was quick as he spent no time luxuriating in the hot pressurized water. There was time for that tomorrow.

He slid into bed behind you, careful not to jostle the mattress too much and wake you up. Even in your sleep, turned mostly away from him, he could see the dark smudges under your eyes. Most likely put there by him. Ignoring the new stain on his soul, he carefully pulled your sleeping form to his body. You turned to him in your sleep, drawn by the heat his body offered in the otherwise cold bed. He would never not be surprised by how trusting you were. In his line of work, trust didn’t come easy. There was always a price. But even in sleep, you offered it to him freely. It awed him.

He pressed a gentle kiss into the mass of tangled curls that made up your hair as you buried your face in his chest. Your hands flattened on his muscular pecks, delving into his chest hair. He knew the second you woke up because your body stiffened and you had a sharp intake of breath.

You lifted your head away from his warm chest to look up him, the sadness he could see swirling in your eyes settling as you took in his face. The fog of sleep lifted, letting your body and mind fully realize that he was indeed in bed with you. This wasn’t a cruel trick your mind was playing on you, though it wouldn’t have been the first one. It had been a long 4 months.

Neither of you spoke, just staring at each other, mentally reacquainting yourselves. Your fingers tentatively stroked his face, the merest whisper of fingertips on his stubble covered cheek. The hand on your back stroked slow calming circles on your skin after lifting your shirt out of the way. Tears pricked your eyes as all the pain you had felt the last couple of weeks bubbled to the surface. August pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as you closed your eyes against the tide swelling inside. He lingered there until he knew you were calm again.

You reached up, teasing the wet curl that hung over his forehead. He didn’t usually let his hair get this long, but you had to admit you loved when his curls came out. You locked eyes again as you slowly lowered your hands back down to his chest, trailing them along his neck. You couldn’t help constantly touching him, memorizing again all the lines and dips of his body. The body of the man you missed with every ounce of your soul, who was having a hard time shedding the edginess work always gave him.

You ran your fingers through his chest hair, as though stroking the bear would bring August back to himself. You learned early on not to ask him about work—he couldn’t give you any answers anyway—but you knew he must see some pretty horrific stuff if he came back to you like this almost every time.

Slowly, as though neither of you wanted to startle the other, your lips met. Immediately you fell into the kiss, as though a piece of the puzzle had just clicked in place on your heart. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tighter to his body. His tongue tentatively ran along the seam of your lips, and you opened for him immediately. Your heart pounded inside your chest, tattooing your rib cage with its erratic beat. Your hands were caught between your bodies, so you reverently ran them up from his chest to hold the sides of his neck, deepening the kiss.

The moan that escaped him was all the encouragement you needed as your tongue met his in a soul-searing dance of two lovers who have been separated for too long. His fingers tangled in the hair on the back of your head, holding you immobile as he delved passionately deeper. The world and its problems melted away as he surrounded you with himself, his scent, his warmth, his passion, his body. You moaned helplessly as he continued to take from you well past your need to breath.

He tugged gently on your hair, tilting your head back as his lips left yours to trail a hot line down your throat to your collarbone, his moustache tickling you in a way that sent shivers out to all your extremities. He didn’t leave your lips long though, and he nipped and kissed a trail back up to them. He poured all his anger and regret at having to leave you into his kiss. All the pain he caused you, he was trying to erase it using his lips. You felt like you were going to have whiplash from the emotional slingshot his kisses seemed to have.

Slowly, August eased out of the kiss. He let go your hair, once again cupping the back of your head. He slowed down the fiery passion to more of a slow burn, savouring each move of your lips against his. He was no longer simply taking; he was offering in return. Eventually he was giving you sweet chaste pecks before finally easing away.

His blue eyes searched yours when you slowly opened them, searching. If you had to guess, he was probably worried he had taken things too far with what started out as a simple kiss. You shook your head, cupping his cheek again, trying to reassure him. The dark cloud in his eyes eased, and he kissed your forehead once more.

You tucked your head into his chest again. Sleep that was usually hard to find seemed to be chasing you now that he was home. August’s hand resumed the patterns it had been drawing on your back, settling you further into the peaceful sleep you finally found.

Sleep was a far away thought for him. He stared into the darkness, his brow furrowing as worries began to eat away at him. He hadn’t meant to pour so much of his stained soul into that kiss. He never wanted to take you from your light, forcing you into the darkness he lived in. He would sacrifice the world to make sure that wouldn’t happen. And he would have no qualms about doing it. That’s what made him the villain, not the hero you thought him to be. You were his solace, and he would do anything to protect you.

#august walker fanfic #August Walker x reader #Henry Cavill Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Mission Impossible Fallout fanfic

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agwitow · 3 years

Text

Alpha Wolves

content warning: swearing, mild violence

Marcus yawned, his jaw cracking, and shook out his pants. It had been a long night, helping two pups with their first change. They were already packed into their parents’ SUVs, fast asleep, and on the way to their homes. In a few months they would be good to join a pack. It wasn’t always as simple with new shifters, but those two each had a parent who was one as well. Even at eight and ten, they knew a fair amount of what it meant to be a lycanthrope.

Dressed in sweats and a light cotton long-sleeved shirt, he ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. Full moon changes always made his hair grow. Even though he’d been clean-shaven before the change, he had what felt like two-days of growth now. Shaggy hair didn’t bother him nearly as much as a beard did, though by the end of the three days he’d need to get that trimmed as well.

He padded barefoot into the little cabin that served as his base of operations while helping new shifters and started a pot of coffee brewing. He hated the stuff, but it would be at least a couple hours before he could head home to sleep, so he needed something to keep him awake.

While it percolated, he checked his phone. Three emails from work, two from the pack, and some spam. He’d just opened the first email when the phone rang.

“Porter Consulting.”

“Mr. Porter, it’s Deputy Palerma from the EKSD,” a male with a pleasant tenor said.

East Keddol was a small town several miles from Hapburgh, the city Marcus lived and worked in. It was in the interesting position of being almost perfectly between Hapburgh pack territory and Redview pack territory. Surprisingly few places fell into the odd in-between spaces between packs, and, as far as he knew, no one had developed any specific protocols for dealing with them.

“How can I help you today, Deputy?”

“We have a shifter—twenty-three-year-old male—who attacked his friends when he shifted for the first time. Miss Davidson recommended I call you.”

Kaelyn Davidson did for the Redview pack what Marcus did for the Hapburgh one. She was, if he remembered correctly, also a month or two out from giving birth. Handling an adult shifter who’d already hurt people was probably not high on her list of ways to spend her time.

“I see. Is your new shifter awake?”

“No. We had to hit him with a tranq to be able to bring him in. He’s changed back, but hasn’t woken up yet.”

Marcus snorted. Safety Departments were, mostly, better than the old police system, but sometimes they were still a little too trigger happy. At least it was a tranquilizer dart instead of a clip of bullets. “I’ll send someone to pick him up. He’s going to wake up before they get there, and he’s going to be cranky and hungry.”

“I’ve taken the class on shifters, Mr. Porter,” Deputy Palerma said, sounding offended. “There is a post-shift recovery kit in the fridge.”

He stifled a sighed. “If that’s all you have, that’s fine, but it would be better if the new shifter could get freshly made food. Eggs, nuts, oats, cottage cheese or Greek yogurt, and pumpkin seeds are best. Avoid meat, if possible, especially red meat.”

“I thought shifters need protein the morning after?”

“We do, and the foods I listed are all high protein items. New shifters can find meats to be… an issue at first. As I’m not able to speak with your young man at present, it’s better to be cautious.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before Palerma said, “Alright. Who will be coming, and when should we expect them?”

“It’ll depend on who is free.”

“Can’t you just tell someone to do it? You’re the alpha, aren’t you?”

Marcus had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning. That damn study from the 40s. “That’s not quite how things work. All pack members have proper ID.”

“Fine,” he said, the word ending with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Thank you. Someone will be there between 10:30 and noon.”

Once they’d said their farewells, Marcus sent out a quick message through the pack’s group chat.

New shifter, East Keddol holding, possible alpha complex. Any takers?

He set the phone down and poured himself a cup of coffee, adding enough cream and sugar to make it mostly palatable, before settling on a stool at the tiny kitchen’s bar-height table. He’d drunk half the cup before a chime indicated he’d gotten a response. Two more chimes rang out before he’d picked the phone back up.

Eddie: I’m free but never handled an alpha complex b4 wdin2k?

Ksenia: lol take a muzzle

Julianne: y can’t the Reds take em?

Marcus rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed, and replied: Kaelyn’s 8 mo. Pregnant. Take the green SUV, put him in the back, and keep the divider up.

Eddie: is it that dangerous?

Thomas: alpha-complexers are just assholes

Julianne: TOM! There are CHILDREN in this chat

Thomas: no regrets!

Marcus temporarily turned notifications off for the group chat, replied to the most important of the work emails, set up reminders for the other two, then headed for the cabin’s futon. By the time he’d make it to his apartment in the city, he’d barely have any time to sleep before he’d need to head back out to meet the new shifter. So he’d nap on the futon and feel stiff for most of the afternoon.

A little after 2pm, the rumbling and crunch of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive to the cabin announced the arrival of Eddie and the new shifter. Marcus set aside his laptop and headed out to the porch to greet them. He was still barefoot and wearing sweats and the long-sleeved shirt, but he’d run a trimmer through the beard so he felt less like a back-woods mountain man.

The car had barely come to a complete stop before the back door opened and a young man stepped out with a glower. He was around average height, with enough muscle mass to indicate he worked out at least somewhat regularly. Dark blond hair hung to his shoulders and a thick beard wrapped his jaw—though whether that was a stylistic choice or the moon driven change accelerating his hair growth even more than it did for Marcus was unclear.

“You Marcus?” the young man demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and leaned against one of the porch supports. “I am. And you are?”

“Joseph.”

He nodded and shifted his gaze to Eddie, who’d stepped around to the front of the SUV. “How was the drive?”

Eddie shrugged, his gaze darting to Joseph and then away. “S’okay. Wouldn’t want to do it again, though.”

“Don’t blame you. Thanks for doing it, though. See you next week for a run, okay?”

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Of course. Later, Marcus.”

Joseph scoffed. “Like he would be any good.”

Marcus shook his head and stepped down off the porch. He was a little shorter than the new shifter, though broader in the shoulders and with more muscle mass. “You will respect each and every member of our pack, or you’ll be sent to Palstead Institution. It is not a pleasant introduction to being a shifter.”

“Whatever, man. Just give me whatever stupid speech you’ve got so I can challenge you.”

“There will be no ‘challenging’ here.”

“Fuck that. I ain’t no submissive bitch.”

“What you do or don’t do in the bedroom has no relevance to this situation.”

Red flooded Joseph’s face a moment before he took a swing at Marcus. He’d obviously had a little bit of training, but the movement was still too big to be truly effective.

Marcus side-stepped and twisted a little so that he had more leverage as he placed a palm against Joseph’s arm and pushed. It wasn’t a big push, but the kid had overextended himself and it knocked him off balance enough to make him stumble. He took a step back and waited for the next attack he knew would be coming.

Joseph didn’t disappoint. He came up swinging wildly, rushing toward him as if he couldn’t decide whether to beat his face in or tackle him to the ground.

Marcus calmly deflected each blow, leading Joseph in a circle as he side-stepped and backed away from the attacks. Less than a minute later, Jospeh was panting and struggling to even come close to landing any blows.

“Have you finished with your temper tantrum, yet?” Marcus asked.

Joseph glared at him but stopped, bending over with hands on knees as he panted.

“You seem to be under the misunderstanding that pack members fight each other. Different packs rarely even fight each other.”

“How…how do you know who’s alpha, then?”

“There is no ‘alpha.’ Not the way you’re thinking, anyway.”

“What?”

Marcus sighed and took a seat on the ground. The grass was soft and, thanks to a sunny morning, contained no hint of dampness. After a moment’s hesitation, Joseph slumped down as well. “Pack is family. Would you pick a fight with your dad to try and take over the family?”

“No…”

He shrugged. “Picking a fight with a pack member makes about as much sense. We each have a role to play, and that role is based on our skills and personality and knowledge. Not on who we’re able to beat up.”

“Aren’t we wolves? At least partly?”

“Yes. And that’s how wolves behave.”

Joseph stared at him blankly.

He sighed again. “Come inside. I’ll make you a tuna sandwich and you can read one of the brochures.”

Joseph followed him inside, silent, but with a simmering edge of anger beneath his exhaustion. Once the full moon was over and the forced changes weren’t sapping his energy, he would be a real pain in the ass if Marcus couldn’t nip the problem in the bud.

“Here,” he said, picking up a glossy tri-fold and handing it over. “Have a seat. Read. I’ll make the sandwiches.”

He settled onto a stool, shoulders hunched and brows drawn. “Why Alpha-Dog Theory is BS,” he read. “Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Marcus replied. “Some of the pack wanted to title it It’s Not Your Inner Wolf, You’re Just an Asshole, but that seemed a bit confrontational.”

“… Oh.”

“Mhm.”

(Moon-Bound - part 2)

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

4 times he wanted to come over + one time he did

Ok, we’re going to ignore several things here, like the fact that this was an 8 page Google Doc that I put together in a few hours, the fact that said document had been blank since June, t y p o s, and the fact that it’s nearly three am and I have my first day of classes technically today (aka at 2 pm).

But here I am, with my second fic of the day? IDK but since classes are starting, my posts are going to be a lot less frequent, so hopefully you guys like this! -------------------

one

Your apartment was finally put together just the way you liked it; all your stuff had its place, it was decorated just the way you liked it, you even had a pantry full of food, a rare feat when you were in college even with living with three other girls. Your first morning in your new, fully set up place was going to be celebrated by yourself. You had planned to make yourself breakfast that would probably last into lunch, order Chinese food later that night, drink coffee and watch Seinfeld on Hulu until you felt like going to sleep. There was no better way to break in a new place than by just relaxing in it.

You turn on your TV, setting your coffee and plate down on the table in front of your couch, and walk over to the huge windows you were lucky enough to have in the apartment. It was a picture-perfect day, and the sun shined right into your apartment, not a single cloud in the blue sky. You felt like you were in a movie like someone had curated the scene and that with the touch of a button, the green screen would be gone and so would the magic.

Sitting down, putting your feet up on the table, you dig in. This was actually perfect for you. Your new job was going to be stressful and you knew it. The more you could find ways to relax in your home, the better the job would be.

After three episodes and nearly spilling your coffee all over you twice, you decide to get up and move around. You were drawn back to your windows, still in awe at the scene on the other side of them. Across the street, it looks like someone was doing the same in their apartment. He was tall, handsome, shirtless, and covered with tattoos that you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of.

He waves at you smiling in a way that made you melt. It took everything in you to wave back and not do something stupid, mentally thanking yourself that the pajamas you had been wearing were athletic shorts and a tshirt from your sorority, and not something more embarrassing.

You go back to your couch, knowing that he could still see you and probably what you were watching. You couldn’t focus on the episode, feeling as if he were still there watching you. You tried to force yourself not to steal glances at him but failed, every so often seeing him mirroring your actions, watching TV on his couch. You didn’t know that the entire time, he was also stealing glances at you. He couldn’t help it; never before had he seen someone look so naturally beautiful, so in their element and carefree while just sitting and watching TV.

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, pausing mid-episode and getting up to find the paper, markers, and tape you know you had stashed somewhere.

Messily scrawling ‘I just moved in, nice to meet you,’ on a piece of paper, you tape it up on the window, praying that you wrote it big and dark enough that he could see it. Sighing when he wasn’t still on the couch, you get back on your own and press play on the TV again.

Where could he have gone? And why were you more invested in the handsome stranger on the other side of the street than you were in the show about nothing that you had grown up watching?

Your stomach growls, not quite late enough to order dinner, you wander into your kitchen to get a snack, looking over to the window of handsome man to see that he had left a note, presumably for you. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Pierre-Luc’ was written in print messier than that of a doctor’s. Thank god your best friend growing up had the world’s worst writing, having to ask him to rewrite it would have been demeaning and embarrassing.

And so it began: you would write a note, watch an episode, then check to see if he left you anything back. He always did,

His name was Pierre-Luc and he played hockey. After a quick google search, unbeknownst to him since you were assuming he couldn’t see what was on your phone, you found that he was a professional hockey player, player for the Blue Jackets. Great, as if he weren’t already being sweet, asking you questions, leaving you charmingly flirty messages on his window for you, now he was an athlete? Quite possibly one of the sexiest types of men in your opinion? Great. Amazing.

‘What’s for dinner?’ he leaves on his window, disappearing somewhere into his apartment.

‘Ideally Chinese food, where do you suggest?’ is what you leave for him, scrolling through Uber eats to see what was cheapest and nearby. You look up, seeing him writing on a notepad his answer, taping it to his window before sending you what you could swear was a wink.

‘Best place to eat out is here at my place,” you read, bursting out laughing. Confident, this one.

You roll your eyes, leaving a cheeky message about sticking to Chinese food and just ordering it from the first place that came up.

The night went on, you not realizing you had spent the whole day flirting with a window stranger. He had liked talking to you, too, but it was pretty bad for the environment to be wasting all this paper when he could clearly see the phone that was in your hand or on your table. Writing his number on what he hoped would be his final piece of paper, maybe you would invite him over. Or he could invite you over. There was something about you that he wanted to spend time with you, not flirt with you while a city street separates you. Taping the paper up, he can see you, fast asleep on the couch, your TV screen asking you if you were still there.

Closing his curtains, he hoped that you would use the number soon so you could actually spend time with him.

Two

You had been feeding that cat every morning for over a month. You loved that stray cat; there was a weird sense of satisfaction in feeding her even though you knew your apartment building wouldn’t allow you to take her in as a pet. But of course, the day you had your friends coming over for dinner was the day you had to run to the store to buy more cat food because you ran out the day before and forgot to get some yesterday. You didn’t know who put food out for the cat at night, or even if anyone did.

You go to the bowl sitting in the alley way, seeing that it was empty, confirming your suspicion that no one else fed the poor cat. You would have to start feeding it at night, too.

“Sorry, you don’t have to do this,” you hear someone say behind you. You get up to see him, the man from the window.

“Pierre-Luc? Why don’t I have to do this?”

“Because I’ve been doing it.”

“No, I have,” you argue, knowing that this would lead to a never-ending circle of ‘me, no me.’ You had been texting each other for a few weeks, constantly trying to figure out when you could spend time together, but much like you and your best friend during senior year of college, your schedules never matched up, going a year before finally seeing each other.

“When?” he asks, a cocky smile dancing across his face.

“Every morning before work, what about you,” you ask, getting closer to him. You text relationship was flirty, you were sure of it. Every time you passed by your window when he was home, he made a point to check you out, he winked at you, he smiled. He exuded a welcome confidence that you weren’t used to.

“Every day when I get back from practice.”

“What about the days that you’re away for games?”

“I figured someone would feed him for me.”

“The cat’s a girl,” you say, the little feline coming up to you. “You would know that if you didn’t just assume other people were doing what you set out to do in the first place.”

“Well, my assumption was correct, wasn’t it?” he says, a devilish twinkle in his eye as his tongue runs along his bottom lip.

“You know what they say about assuming,” you tell him, breaking your eye contact to put out some food for the purring animal.

“What’s that?”

“It makes an ass outta you and me,” you tell him, looking up at him towering over you as a laugh leaving his lips. Given his demeanor, you wouldn’t expect him to look as, what’s the right word, jolly? As he did.

“How come you’re feeding her now if you usually do it in the morning?” he asks, bending down to help you.

Feeling your phone buzzing in your pocket that signaled your friends were already there waiting for you, you tell him, “I ran out of food yesterday and didn’t have the chance to get more until after work. Plus, I needed to pick some stuff up for tonight, anyway.”

“Tonight?” he asks, his head snapping up. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, ran through his head.

“Yeah, my friends are coming over for dinner. It’s the first time they’ll be seeing my new place.” You pause for a minute. He was here, obviously with some free time, but did you want his first time over your place to be surrounded by your nosy friends? They knew you were talking to an attractive neighbor, but you knew they would say things to him that would mortify you and send you running before he got the chance.

But like the night you first moved in, fuck it. “Are you free tonight? I would love for you to come over,” you tell him, the smile on his face disappearing as soon as you asked.

“I have a game tonight, I can’t. I was actually about to change and then leave,” he says, looking sad. He wanted to come over, and as soon as you said you were having friends over, he knew that you were going to ask him.

“Oh, that’s fine. Now I have a reason to watch a game, though,” you tell him, smiling. You had to admit, you were a little bit upset, but again, it was probably for the best that he didn’t meet your friends just yet.

“If the game ends early enough, I’ll stop by, yeah?” he suggests, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

Three

“Babe, you’ve lived here for like, what? Almost six months? You have a hot as fuck neighbor who you actually talk to, and he hasn’t come over yet? Why haven’t you asked him to come over?” Amy says with food in her mouth. Your friends were over, again, this time to hang out before they went out to the bars. You were originally going to go, but you were too exhausted, and having already promised to host the pregame, you weren’t going to back out now.

“You call me babe more than any guy I’ve met, you realize that right?” you ask her, getting up to go over to your window. You knew he wasn’t home; you had the Columbus game against the Flyers playing on your TV, Pierre-Luc was on the ice as you absentmindedly went over to the window to see if he was there. “Plus, our schedules never work. Look, Aimes, he’s literally on our TV, meanwhile as soon as all you hooligans leave, I’m going to bed.

“Come on, stay up for the man,” Jeff said. The only male in your group of friends, he always entered the girl talk, encouraging you to get with a guy just as much as the others.

“I’m going out to breakfast with you guys in the morning, how cranky do you want me to be, Jeffy? You know I will not hesitate to throw a potato at you,” you say, the rest of the group laughing even though they know you’re serious. You have thrown stuff at him and only him during breakfast before, him never thinking you’d have the guts to cause a scene in public, but doing it anyway.

“We all know you’d be less cranky if you got laid,” he says through a mouthful of food. Why did everyone talk with their mouths open?

“Tomorrow I’m ordering two breakfasts; one to eat and one to throw at you.”

You tune out your friends for the rest of the night. You only paid attention to the hockey game, your eyes trying to stay focused on Pierre-Luc every time he was on the ice. You did really want him to come over, but again, the first time couldn’t be with your friends, not when they were full psychopaths when it came to any boy that you were talking to. What would you have done if Pierre-Luc was there when Jeff commented about you being cranky and needed to get laid?

Why did the cute guy have to have such a complicated schedule? Every time you were free, he was to jet off somewhere in the country for a few days for games, then he would come back, sleep, go to practice, and then go to a game. From what you could tell, he never stayed up past maybe 10 pm on the nights he didn’t have games, he napped nearly every day after practices, and he really was only home to eat.

Not that you were stalking him. Or memorizing his schedule. You two talked all the time, having evolved from notes in the windows to texting, from texting to calling, from calling to him falling asleep before you while on Facetime. He was one of your best friends, and you had never actually hung out with him at your or his apartment.

“So how long will it take for him to get home now that the game is over?” Amy asks, snapping you out of the trance that you didn’t know you were in.

You didn’t even know that the game was over; the Jackets beat the Flyers 2-1, the game apparently ending about five minutes ago. You never timed how long it took between the game being over and him getting home since it was different pretty much every night. You think. Again, it’s not like you were stalking the boy. “Uh, I don’t know, half an hour?” you guess, giving them what you hoped was enough information for them to not ask you more.

“So has he sent you any like sexy pics?” Tanaka pips in, you nearly choking on the water you were drinking.

“What the ever living fuck?” you nearly scream, all your friends laughing at your reaction. “There is no way I would ever tell you. Guys, we’re friends. Yes, he’s cute, hell, he’s fucking hot, but we’ve never physically spent time together, so can we just drop it?”

They change the subject, going back to the conversation from this afternoon that involved them trying to get you to go out. You loved your friends, they were your found family, but dammit they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Wait, sorry, which apartment is his again?” Jeff asks in the middle of you telling them yet again why you weren’t going out with them.

You all snap your heads to the other building, the one directly across from you now with lights on. “That one,” you say, Pierre-Luc appearing in the window, all of your friends running up to go wave to him. This was mortifying. Your phone started buzzing on the table, and with Pierre-Luc having his phone out for his friends to see, they knew it was from him.

“What did he say!” Tanaka yells, trying to grab your phone from you.

“He said get your creepy friends away from the window,” you lie. If you told them he was asking to come over, they would steal your phone and make him come. “Guys, shouldn’t you be going by now? It’s almost 11, the deal at the bar ends at midnight and all of you are still sober,” you point out, praying that it would work.

“Let’s get drunk!” Amy says, grabbing her bag and marching out the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yep, I’m going to sleep. Text me when you’re all alive!” you say, pushing them out the door.

Your phone buzzes again, Pierre-Luc asking again if he could come now that your friends were gone. You wanted to say yes, but you knew that as soon as he came over, you would be asleep. Plus he just came from a game, there was no way he wasn’t also exhausted. ‘I’m about to pass out, I’m sorry. We’ll hang out eventually, I promise’

Four

You should be back in your apartment by now. You had told Pierre-Luc that you would be home by 11 pm. You had an early day the next day and staying out late wasn’t something you wanted to do, no matter how good your date went or how attractive you thought the guy was.

Much to Pierre-Luc’s dismay, you had told him that your friend Amy had set you up with someone she knew from school. You were going out with him tonight, you Facetiming Pierre-Luc while getting ready. He should have just been over there, watching you get ready. No actually, he should have been the one taking you out, but at this point in whatever the hell relationship you had, the first thing that you were going to do in person with each other, besides that one time you fed the alley cat, was hang out in each other’s apartment.

He was pacing, checking his phone to see if you had sent him anything about your whereabouts. You should have been home by now, why weren’t you home? If you weren’t home in ten minutes, he was going to call the police. No, they wouldn’t do anything. He would figure out how to hack your phone, try to find Amy on social media, something so that he would know you were safe.

Sitting down on his couch, he positioned himself so he had a direct view of your apartment. As soon as you walked in the door and turn on the light to your living room, he would know. He needed that light to go on right now.

‘Maybe I should go over and wait outside her door? Would that be creepy?’ he thought to himself, ‘I could say that I was just checking on you, which would technically be true. It’s not like you were going to bring the guy home, right? But what if you did and then I was there sitting outside your door. I can’t ruin things for you.’

Why has it taken him so long to even get over to your place? Or for you to come over to his? He hated that your schedules were just different enough that you couldn’t meet up. You were always running out the door when he was just getting home and vice versa. He couldn’t even fathom what he would do the first time he saw you in person.

He should have just kissed you when you were feeding the cat. He knows that he wants to date you, how could he not someone who was sweet enough to do something like that for a random cat but also unafraid to chirp him like his teammates?

Your light goes on, him doing everything in his power to not jump up and go to his window, but that doesn’t stop him from watching what was happening.

Your date went well; you and David had really hit it off, leading to making out in the elevator ride up, stumbling into your apartment with your lips practically glued to his. You look across to Pierre-Luc’s apartment, him sitting there. You make eye contact with him, smiling because of David. David comes up behind you, starting to kiss you down your neck. You send a thumbs up to Pierre-Luc, closing the curtain as you let David do as he pleases.

Pierre-Luc sits on his couch, dumbfounded by what he just saw. That should have been him. He should have been the one in your apartment with you right now.

+one

Saturday morning, sitting on your couch, watching Seinfeld. A cup of coffee, your phone, and a plate with some fruit on it, much like the first full day when you moved in. The sky was cloudless and blue, but you weren’t admiring it in the same way as you were that day. You were out with David last night, one month after your first date. You thought everything was going great, until he told you that he wanted to see other people. You shouldn’t have been surprised, he had been saying that he wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt when he officially broke it off with you.

‘You’re crying,’ a message from Pierre-Luc pops up on your screen. For a moment, you forgot your curtains were open, giving him a full view into your apartment.

‘Yep,’ you reply back, not sure what else to say. He could see you, it’s not like you could lie to him.

‘Need to talk about it?’

‘I don’t want to Facetime right now.’

‘Got it,’ was all he said. You look over at his apartment, just in time to see him shutting the door behind him. What the hell was he doing that he could ask you to Facetime and then leave right after? You let out a sigh, deciding to focus on the TV and try to force yourself to eat the fruit. You weren’t going to feel any better if your hunger turned into hanger, so you might as well eat the food that was in front of you.

You didn’t know where your phone ended up; somewhere in the couch cushions maybe? On the floor? You didn’t even care, you just wanted to wallow and be dramatic for the day. What you weren’t expecting was the knock on your door, interrupting your favorite episode of the show. Getting up, not expecting anyone, you debated even opening the door when you hear his voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s me, open up.” You see Pierre-Luc standing there, a bag from the donut shop down the street in hand, a bunch of take out menus in the other.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, him pushing past you and plopping down on the couch, obviously already knowing the way around.

“You were upset so I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says, taking out the donuts, putting them on the plate with your fruit, popping a piece in his mouth. “You don’t have to talk about it, but at least this way we’re finally hanging out in person.”

There was something about seeing him sitting on your couch that just felt right. He looked so at home, his feet already up on your table in the way you sat pretty much all the time. He had already started up the episode, replaying it from the beginning so he could see it when you sit down beside him, tucking your feet underneath you.

“Come here,” he says, reaching his arm out. You cuddle up next to him, your head on his shoulder as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. It felt so right. So much better than with David, so much better than with any of the other guys you had been with.

“He dumped me,” you tell him, even though you were sure that you had already texted him that last night when you were on your way home.

“He didn’t deserve you,” you hear him say. He mumbled something else, something you couldn’t quite make out. If he wanted you to hear it, he would have said it louder, you figured.

“He said I play hard to get?” you ask, unsure if that was true or not. Were you hard to get? You slept with the guy on the first night, Pierre-Luc had seen the beginning of it through the window.

“No, you’re not hard to get, you’re hard to earn. Any guy would be lucky to have you. If I had you, I’d,” he stops himself, mentally kicking himself for opening that can of worms that he really didn’t want to dive into yet. You hadn’t even been out on a first date. If anything, maybe, this was your first date.

“You’d what?” you say, sitting up, hoping he would continue. This was his first time in your apartment. Something you had both thought about a lot. You wanted to hear what he would do if you were together, hoping whatever he said would actually happen.

“I’d feed the cat with you in the morning and then do it by myself in the afternoon if I didn’t have a game or something,” he starts, laughing, “I’d go out to breakfast with your friends even if we didn’t go out with them the night before. I’d even hang out with them whenever you did, even though they are a little crazy. You love the people around you, the animals that aren’t even your own pets. You deserve someone who will love you back the way you love everyone and everything.”

You sit there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I should have been the one that night in here with you, not him,” he says, finally admitting it out loud.

“Do something about it now, then,” you tell him.

“What?” he asks, stunned.

“Forget that night you saw me with David, and do something now,” you insist. You had wanted this just as bad as he did, so why were either of you waiting?

He starts slow, sweet, his hand on your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His lips move with yours, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as his other hand snakes it’s way around you back, picking you up from the seat next to you and placing you in his lap. Your hands go through his hair, your mind blank. This was what you had been waiting for since you first saw him.

He pulls away, his cheeks now red, a smile on his face, “I really hope I’m the only one who ever looked through your window.”

“If anyone else is looking then at least they get a little bit of a show,” you say, kissing him again.

#pierre luc dubois #pierre luc dubois imagines #pierre-luc dubois #pierre-luc dubois imagines #columbus blue jackets #columbus blue jackets imagines #blue jackets #blue jackets imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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anonniemousefics · 4 years

Note

Hello! I absolutely adore your writing, especially your writings of kanej! Anyway, I would love to see you write something about jealousy from either kaz or inej, I just think it would be interesting to see your take on it! Obviously you don’t have to, I love your work! You’re a great writer!

❤️ Thank you so much!! This was so sweet to receive, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get this to you! So, hopefully you’re cool with this, but I decided to apply this idea in a modern AU because I have another request I’m also working on for a modern AU and this felt like an opportunity for some more practice. 😊 (And it just made it more fun for me -- idk, my brain just needed to do something new with these characters to make this work.)

Samples - Modern AU

Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej (ft. all the other Crows)

Word Count: 3,545

Rating: Teen And Up (Language)

“Who did this?”

All of Kaz’s friends were doubling over in laughter around the round hand-me-down table in Kaz and Jesper’s apartment. There were black and white Cards Against Humanity prompts spread across its surface – the most offensive combination of which had Inej, well, and everyone else, in fits.

What made my first kiss so awkward? had been the prompt Inej had drawn.

To which Kaz had submitted the following, randomly-selected card for her consideration – Announcing that I am about to cum. And then kept his poker face locked in place.

“Who did this?” Inej was demanding again, clutching her stomach.

Kaz wasn’t sure why he was hesitating -- something strange was happening while all of this was playing out. Nina had one hand on Inej’s arm while she was fairly screeching with laughter. Inej was slumping against Jesper, like the laugh was shaking her boneless. In fact, everywhere he looked, he was noticing how they were each exchanging these casual, unconscious touches in the midst of their mirth – Matthias turning his face against Nina’s shoulder, Wylan slapping Jesper’s shoulder.

No one was touching Kaz, though – which, that was good, though, right? That was because they were his friends, and they were thoughtful, and they knew all about The Very Sad Thing that had made him the way that he was.

And yet --

Kaz couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He should be laughing, though, he realized. A normal person would be laughing, given the infectious nature of laughter. And also it was genuinely a really funny card – that’s why he’d played it. But all he could do was force a smile, and that was it.

He suddenly felt like an alien among them.

“Was it you?!” Inej was exclaiming, waving the card at him. Kaz designed what he hoped was a coy smirk for her.

“Are you saying that’s your favorite?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It was you.” Inej looked appalled, which only made everyone around the table hoot louder. Kaz was still smirking as she threw his winning card back at him with a mischievous, red-faced grin on her face.

“Oh, my God, Brekker.” Nina was wiping the tears off her apple-red cheeks.

“Why does that make it so much worse?” Matthias wondered, since he evidently could never not take a jab at Kaz. He scrubbed his eyes like he needed to wash them out.

And still not a single laugh out of Kaz’s body – this was disturbing. How long had he been this way? And why did he care so much all of a sudden?

“Guys, I’m pretty sure he won,” Wylan was saying, pointing at Kaz’s stack of wins. Had he? Everyone turned to count their cards.

Jesus Christ, he hadn’t even been paying attention to winning? But Kaz loved winning. It was the only reason he tolerated his roommate hosting these raucous game nights – because it meant Kaz could win things. And usually a lot of things. It was especially choice winning things off of Matthias Helvar, Nina’s latest lughead boyfriend she’d met at the gym, who now had to be invited to everything even though he sucked. He was always cuddling close to Nina, putting his arm around her, whispering gross things in her ear that made her giggle insufferably. It was so fucking uncomfortable.

Kaz never acted that way around Inej, and they’d been together for years. Sort of. Not always officially. It really had only been officially lately, but Kaz had always told himself he wasn’t one to need to put labels on things. Inej knewhow he felt – he knew this. (Did he, though?) He definitely knew this. (No, he didn’t.) There was no need to be like Matthias fucking Helvar and canoodle her in front of everyone on game night.

Oh, God. Kaz was suddenly having a realization, right there in the middle of counting his cards.

Oh, God.

He was jealous of Matthias Helvar.

Oh, this sucked.

This really fucking sucked. Kaz thought no one in their right mind should ever be jealous of that big dumb fuck, with his protein shakes and his weirdly popular fitspo Instagram page. The guy looked like he ate nothing but wild-caught salmon and organic broccoli. He wasn’t funny, and he’d say weirdly spiritual shit at socially unacceptable times. He probably spent his weekends doing annoying, on-brand fuckery like being one with nature and brewing his own kombucha, that asshole.

And this was the guy who felt comfortable enough to kiss a girl’s ear in a total stranger’s apartment. (Well, not a total stranger, Kaz would relinquish that – Nina had been dating Matthias for three months.) Matthias Helvar was doing all that nothing with his life, and he wasn’t the least bit self-conscious.

Ugh. Kaz hated that guy. Worse! Kaz wanted to be that guy. Minus the kombucha and the religious stuff. And the gym membership. And probably the protein shakes.

Ok, fine, Kaz was only interested in the PDA. This was so fucking awful.

“What number were we playing to?” he heard himself ask. He wasn’t even paying attention to card counting. He was going to have to start again.

“Can’t count that high, Brekker?” Matthias asked, smirking, and there was always something Kaz took as halfway serious in the way he tried to joke.

“Die in a fire, Helvar,” he said, with a smile that was as good as a middle finger.

“And on that note!” Nina sung out, standing with a hand on Matthias’ shoulder. “It’s almost midnight. I have an eight a.m. class. We gotta call it a night.”

“Matthias drove us,” Inej explained to Kaz’s questioning look at the word “We.”

Inej and Nina were roommates, too, like Kaz and Jesper, but the two girls lived on campus in the dorms at Ketterdam University, where all but Matthias attended. (Fucking Matthias, who was a personal trainer and got money from wellness companies to tout their shit on his Instagram. Ugh.) Wylan, Jesper’s boyfriend, was also living in the dorms this year, after spending his freshmen year commuting from his dad’s enormous house. Wylan had been the one with the car before Kaz had finally scraped together the money for one, but his dad had cut him off over the summer. Kaz didn’t know much about that beyond what little Jesper had told him, which, in summary, was: goodbye, car; hello, dorm life.

“You should have said something – I could have picked you all up,” Kaz said, mostly to Inej, as the others were standing from the table.

Nina reached a tentative hand out to gently touch his shoulder, well-protected by the fabric of his black v-neck.

“Kaz,” she said, gingerly, “we love you, but Matthias has functioning air conditioning.”

Kaz slid his glance toward Inej, who gave a little confirming nod, pressing back her amused smile.

“My thighs don’t stick to the seats in his car,” she explained, softly, which may as well have been a knife to the gut. He loved driving her around in his car. And, to top it off, she was in a pair of really adorable denim cut offs, her legs deeply tan from the summer sun, and he hadn’t even had the nerve to try to touch her exposed knee all night. (Meanwhile, Hands-On Helvar over here had been sitting with his palm all over Nina’s plentiful thighs all night. God, he was so gross. Couldn’t Kaz be just a little bit gross?)

“Are you okay?” Inej was asking. She was stepping a little closer to him away from where everyone else was putting on shoes, preparing to leave. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her loose, purple crop-top, and her long, dark braid was pulled over her shoulder – just mercilessly cute all over. And he hadn’t touched her all night.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but he kept his hands in his jeans pockets. Inej’s dark brows knit together.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” she checked. Kaz huffed a laugh – how was he supposed to answer that? Realistically, he should lie.

“Probably not,” he admitted anyway, and gave a shrug. Inej opened her mouth to reply, but Nina called to her from the doorway of the apartment.

“Sorry! Eight a.m. class! She’s going to text you from the car anyway!” Nina was shouting.

“She’s not wrong,” Inej shrugged with a smile. And reached out to barely brush her hand against his spine, like the first attempt at a hug. But Kaz could only bunch up his shoulders, hands stuffed deeper into his pockets. Why was he like this?

There were a few more awkward goodbyes at the doorway, including Matthias’ one-more last-minute sales pitch on the recent CBD-infused green powder drink he was hawking online. (“I’ll bring you some samples next week. They say it’s excellent for chronic pain.” Kaz had flipped him off when his back was turned.)

But then, once they’d all gone and the apartment was quiet, Kaz felt like he was rolling in regret.

“You doing ok?” Jesper asked him, gathering up the empty Solo cups for the trash. Jesper was a really good roommate. They’d been randomly assigned the same dorm room at the beginning of freshmen year, and it just worked. Jesper’s high energy plus Kaz’s insomnia were meant to be. They liked all the same things: strong coffee, getting paid dirty money to write other people’s papers for them, and occasionally clearing the mind by playing Call of Duty all night. They’d moved off campus the following year (a better move for the plagiarism operation), never even really having a conversation about whether or not to room with someone else. It was not even a question, and who else would Kaz even want to room with?

“You’ve seemed off all night,” Jesper was pointing out, and if Kaz had half a brain, he knew he should have been asking Jesper for advice about PDA long before it had reached envying-Matthias-Helvar-levels. Jesper and Wylan were normal in public. When they held hands or hugged or traded kisses, it wasn’t some fucking scene.

But how was he even supposed to bring this up to Jesper?

“Helvar’s such a dillweed,” was all he could find to complain. Jesper snorted.

“He is not that bad,” he said, dumping a stack of Solo cups into the trash.

“He’s the literal worst,” Kaz objected. “I can’t believe he unironically called himself an influencer.” And at that, Jesper pretended to barf into the trashcan.

“Yeah, no, you’re right – that was dumb,” he said. “I commend you for not cutting off your own ears when he did.”

“We are not buying his stupid fucking green juice,” Kaz said, pointing at Jesper to show he meant business.

“Good!” Jesper agreed. “Nina says it gives him the shits.”

And that brought Kaz some comfort. He found he could smirk about it while he loaded up the dishwasher. He was starting it up when his phone buzzed on the counter. He leaned over to read it.

Inej: You seemed sad tonight.

Inej’s contact photo in his phone was one he’d snapped when she wasn’t looking – she was leaning her head back with her eyes closed, taking in the sunshine. It had made her brown skin glimmer and dazzle.

Kaz stared at her text for probably too long. Long enough for Jesper to peer around the corner of the kitchen doorway at him.

“I’m going to bed – everything okay?” he said, and cocked his head. “Is it another last minute job?” Those kinds of jobs – the ones where a student was giving up the night before something massive was due – paid the most, but for good reason. They were absolutely fucking miserable to pull off.

“No,” Kaz shook his head. “Just Inej.”

It was never “just Inej” – and Jesper nodded like he knew that.

“Hey, Kaz,” he said, as he began to leave for his bedroom. Kaz looked up at him sidelong as he mouthed, barely audible: “Tell her what’s wrong.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” Kaz rolled his eyes. And heaved a heavy sigh.

And started typing.

Kaz: I guess I was a little.

Whoa, pressing send on that was unpleasant. He wandered over to his preferred recliner in the living room and flopped back in it. Shoved the footrest up to elevate his bad leg. Ugh. Just ugh to everything and everyone. He looked down at his phone again.

And Inej had been quick to respond.

Inej: You can tell me these things, you know.

Inej: I know I won’t always have the right thing to say, but I want to be there for you.

Inej. Why are you being so perfect so far away?

Why are you wasting your time with a boyfriend who struggles to touch you?

Inej: Are you writing a novel?

He’d been writing and rewriting the same sentence twenty different times. She’d probably been looking at those ominous three bobbing dots for way too long.

Ugh. God. Fine. Kaz drew in a long deep breath, staring up at the ceiling like it could intervene and come to his aid. And then fucking wrote.

Kaz: I wish things were different

Kaz: I wish I wasn’t so fucked

Kaz: I wish I knew how to be a better boyfriend – how to make you blush and laugh and make that one smile that’s like you’re telling secrets with your eyes

He pushed the recliner back as far as it would go. Maybe it would tip and dump him on his head and he’d have to go to the hospital, and that would at least delay Inej inevitably breaking up with him for being this pathetic wet blanket. The phone buzzed again, and he almost didn’t want to look.

Inej: Um, where were you all night? You literally had me doing all those things all night

Huh. That wasn’t how he remembered it.

Kaz: On the opposite side of the table from you

Kaz: Watching basically everyone else be able to touch you but me

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck. That sounded so petulant, and he’d already pressed send. That sounded so needy and disgusting. Who said that kind of shit? Not even Matthias Helvar said that kind of shit. He wanted to throw his phone across the room. No, out the window. No, out into the sea.

Now he was on the receiving end of the three bobbing dots of doom. Fuuuuck.

Kaz: Can we just forget I said that?

More dots. Then nothing.

Then dots.

Inej: I don’t know. You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.

At that, Kaz raised his eyebrows.

Kaz: I am not jealous.

Inej: You’re a little jealous

Kaz: No, I feel insufficient.

(Oooof. That was like trying to throw an anvil. Painful.)

Inej: Oh

Kaz was watching the texts come in from beneath his arm now, holding the phone high over his head. Like watching the slasher scenes in a horror movie.

Inej: I mean

Inej: It seems like you’re just splitting hairs here

Inej: Since you must think others are sufficient in ways you are not, so you envy them

…

Kaz: Touche, Ghafa.

And he couldn’t help smiling to himself when Inej sent him a gif of a swashbuckling cartoon Robin Hood brandishing a sword. Then another text bubble appeared.

Inej: You are not insufficient to me, Kaz.

He really wanted to believe that.

Kaz: Even if I’m not hanging all over you and amassing a truly staggering number of Instagram followers with my six-pack abs?

Inej: O.M.G.

Inej: Kaz

Inej: Brekker

Oh, God, what had he done?

Inej: Are you *jealous* of Matthias?

Uggghh, he was going to be sick.

Kaz: Fuck no

Kaz: It was just a hypothetical

Kaz: It was an exaggeration

Kaz: I could do the same thing with any one of our friends

Kaz: And we all know the abs are photoshopped anyway

Inej: OMG

Kaz: What now

Inej: You called Matthias our friend

Kaz wanted to stab himself in the brain.

Inej: I’m gonna tell him

Kaz: Don’t you fucking dare

Inej: I already did

Kaz: What? How? How are you that fast?

Inej: Still in the car

Kaz: ????

There was no reason for that – the dorms were hardly a 10-minute drive. Now Kaz’s brain was assaulting him with a thousand reasons things his girlfriend could still be doing in a car (A nice car! With working air conditioning!) with a personal trainer/amateur Instagram model, and none of them were pleasant or welcome thoughts. The phone buzzed again.

Inej: I asked him to bring me back to you. :)

At that, Kaz straightened the recliner, rising to his feet as fast as his stiff leg would allow.

Kaz: You did? And he did? Why?

He was limping toward the front door.

Inej: Because he’s not terrible, Kaz. And because I guess I missed your car after all ;)

Jesper and Kaz’s apartment was the third floor of a wonky old Victorian home that had once been something grand and only recently had been split into three different abodes – which was definitely the worst decision the two of them had made as roommates. Kaz was leaning hard against the railing as he took to the steps when the front door of the building banged shut below. And then there on the landing below was Inej, wearing a sheepish smile in the yellow, buzzing fluorescence of the hall light. She was holding her phone in one hand, her tan leather purse slung across her slim body.

“I thought you looked like you could use a hug,” she said, as she pocketed her phone.

Kaz took the last two stairs carefully, coming to stand in front of her. She smelled like vanilla and coconut oil – like something he wanted to wake up to every morning.

“You came all the way back for a hug,” he wanted to clarify. His hands – he should do something with his hands. What would Matthias do with his hands?

No. What do I want to do with my hands?

So, he looped a couple fingers through her belt loops. Tugged her a little closer. And she smiled.

“Technically,” she said, “Matthias came all the way back so I could bring you some samples.” She patted her purse, which did look a little bulkier. “They were in his car the whole time.”

“Mmmm.” He pretended to look tantalized. “Hot car samples. Delicious.”

Inej was twisting her fingers in the t-shirt fabric at the crest of his hips. Tugging him a little closer, too. God, it was so good. She’d been so right. He had wanted a hug.

“I know that’s how I want my protein powder,” she teased. “Piping hot, right out of the oven.”

“Just how Ma used to make it,” Kaz added, with a good bit of feigned nostalgia. Inej blurted out a laugh, tipping forward until her forehead bumped his sternum.

At that first brush, it was like his hands knew what to do from there. They slipped around her waist while her hands slid around his. And she pressed her cheek against his chest while he held her close.

“You are not insufficient,” Inej said against him.

“I would really like to pretend that never happened,” he said with a sigh, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Too late,” she hummed, happily, and gave him a light squeeze. He smiled against her hair.

“You know I wouldn’t want you to be like Matthias, right?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t even want Matthias to be like Matthias,” Kaz grumbled.

“Hey,” and Inej pulled back to look up at him with her big, soft brown eyes. “I mean it. I just want you to be you. I don’t want all the handsy stuff. That’s what Nina likes. I just like you.”

Kaz carefully pushed back a few strands of her hair from her forehead.

“Not even a little handsy stuff?” he checked, which made Inej give her coy little smirk, his very favorite.

“Maybe a little handsy stuff,” she said.

If there were ever going to be a time to kiss her, it would be now. But when he thought it, Kaz felt his heart make an enormous leap into his throat, seizing in panic. If he touched her mouth with his, if he closed his eyes and felt her face so close to his, would he just end up floundering in The Very Sad Thing again? What if it happened while he was kissing her? Would every kiss after that be tainted? Could he risk it – could he ever?

So, he didn’t move to meet her lips. He let his hands fall to the small of her back, though, and kept her close for another moment. Like a sample of physical affection, and she seemed okay with that. He would will himself to believe it was not insufficient.

“Drive me home?” she asked after a moment, with a kind of sweet, eager anticipation that made Kaz believe in magic. He nodded, of course.

“I’ll go up and get my keys,” he said. “And you throw away those samples.”

Inej laughed, following him up.

“Deal,” she said.

-----------------------------------

Tagging: @annejulianneh111, @loveyatopluto, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @whosanxiety, @raging-bisexual-alert,

#kanej #kanej fanfic #soc fanfic #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #modern au #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #matthias helvar #nina zenik #look so im not a matthias fan #dont come for me #i just want to make fun of him because he's a big doofus

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

Together

A Stitched Story (END)

JSE Fanfic

Man...this is it. The last one. That’s...wow. This was an AU three years in the writing, and with this, it’s over. I just...wow. I’m gonna need to just think about that for a second. Maybe wait a bit before starting something new. Anyway, this is basically wrapping everything up, taking care of all the final plot points and loose ends. There are emotional moments, including one big one, but...wow. I just have to keep saying that over and over again, it’s all I feel. The boys are settling down. Finally. Man, they’ve earned it.

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty @ari-trash

It was surprisingly sunny, for an autumn day. Busy, too. Cars rushed through the streets, and pedestrians populated the pavement. Jameson shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare as he peered around a street corner and saw their destination. We’re almost there. One more block, he said, tapping the message out in Morse code on a nearby lamppost.

“Good, I hope we are not late,” Schneep replied. “What time is it?”

JJ checked the clock on his phone. 1:25. Do you think it’s already over?

“Possibly. In any case, it would be better to be early.” Schneep turned the corner, speeding up, running his cane over the sidewalk to check for cracks. JJ hurried to catch up. “Chase would be upset if we are not there.”

He’ll be fine, JJ said reassuringly, now tapping the message on Schneep’s arm. But I suppose we can make haste.

The two of them soon arrived at their destination, turning into the hospital parking lot and walking towards the building’s front entrance. “Oh! I think he is here, yes?” Schneep said.

Yes, I can see him. JJ waved. Chase was standing outside the glass doors, bouncing on his feet and scanning the area. He had his usual bandanna and cap, but was wearing a new sweater, one that the others had given him as a group birthday present to make up for missing it a few months ago, and an old backpack Stacy had lent him. Once he saw JJ waving he smiled, and waved back.

“Ha! Knew it. I am getting good at this,” Schneep said proudly. “If only sensing souls could help with telling apart the toothpaste and burn cream.”

JJ laughed, muffled as usual, and the two of them hurried across the parking lot. Chase ran up to meet them at the edge of the sidewalk. “Hey guys!” he said. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” Schneep said lightheartedly. “Well, well? Did everything go fine?”

“Oh, uh, mostly.” Chase rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. He wasn’t wearing his wristbands. Instead, there were white bandages. “She managed to get the ones on my wrists off, but said she didn’t want to risk messing with the one on my neck. It’s close to an artery or something? I don’t know, it was some complicated medical stuff.”

“Ah. That is too bad,” Schneep said sadly. Jameson shook his head sympathetically. “But it is glad to hear some of the stitches are gone. I told you that Darla was good. Trustworthy, too. She will not tell anyone.”

“If you say so, doc.” Pulling his sleeves down, Chase turned to JJ. “Are you sure you don’t want to try? I mean, it’s a lot more inconvenient for you than it is for me.”

JJ hesitated, then nodded. I am fine, he signed. I’ve gotten used to it, and yes, there are many downsides, but considering what happened last week, I think it is good enough.

“Man. If you’re really sure,” Chase said reluctantly. “They’re already a bit looser, right? Maybe whatever magic’s making them hard to cut through will fade over time.”

“Wait, Jameson, did you bring up last week?” Schneep whacked JJ’s legs with his cane. “I said that you should not try yourself! Things could go wrong!” He paused. “But everything is fine, right?”

Yes, it was a shallow cut, JJ said. Your scissors are pretty sharp.

“I know. They are not normal, and I am starting to think they were always supposed to be weapons.” Schneep sighed. “Well, I am putting them away soon.”

JJ and Chase exchanged a significant look. “You’re gonna put them away?” Chase repeated.

Schneep nodded. “If I need them again, it won’t be hard to pull them out.”

In the month since they’d finally gotten rid of the strings, Schneep had kept carrying the scissors around. Just in case, he’d said. Just in case those glowing green strands of black magic managed to worm their way back into the world. But the past month had been quiet. Busy in other ways, but nothing had appeared to attack any of them. So maybe ‘just in case’ wasn’t going to come. Maybe it would be fine to leave them at home. Or, well, in whatever pocket dimension they came from.

“If you’re sure, doc,” Chase said. “A-anyway, it’s a bit past 1:30. We should hurry, or we’ll be late to meet up with the others. You guys walked here? C’mon, there’s a bus stop across the street.”

We’d definitely be on time if you drove us, JJ said teasingly.

“Hey, I can’t be blamed for not having a car.”

Ask Stacy.

“Nah, it’s fine. I should practice a bit before I do any serious driving, anyway. It’s been a while.”

“You took the bus here?” Schneep asked, puzzled. “But what about people sitting next to you?”

“It’s okay, I just put the backpack next to me. And it’s alright if it’s you guys.” Chase stepped off the sidewalk curb and onto the parking lot asphalt. “Now let’s go.”

The bus ride was short, and soon the three of them were getting off at a stop outside a small restaurant—or, more of a cafe, really. Despite being near lunchtime, the place was almost empty when they walked in. Soft piano music was playing over a speaker system, and a chalk signboard near the front entrance read “Please Seat Yourselves” with a hand-drawn smiley face. Chase read the sign out loud, and the three of them spotted the rest of the group, sitting at a table in the corner of the dining area, right by a window.

Jack had looked up at the sound of the bell chiming when the door opened. “Hey, they’re here,” he said to the other two sitting at the table.

“Huh? Oh, good.” Jackie was turning the menu over and over, listening to the sound of the laminated paper against the air. Marvin didn’t say anything. His head was leaning against the glass of the window, eyes closed, a pair of earbuds blocking out most sound. But he did make a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Hey guys.” Chase arrived first, taking the chair across from Marvin, next to the wall. Schneep and JJ took the next two. “Did you already order?”

“No, I told the waiter that we were waiting for people,” Jack explained. “But, more importantly, how’d it go? Are they gone?”

“Wrists are.” Chase once again pulled back his sleeves. For a moment, Jackie glanced at the bandages on his wrists, then bit his lip and looked away. “Apparently the neck stitches are too close to an artery or something. She didn’t want to mess with it.”

“Shit. Well, two out of three’s not bad,” Jack said.

“Jack, my friend, how are the repairs going?” Schneep asked.

“Pretty good, I think. The walls just got repainted, and the living room has new chairs and stuff. Still a long way to go.” Jack laughed. “Honestly I’m just glad that the water and Internet didn’t go out.”

Are the police still talking to you? JJ asked.

“No, not really. You guys?”

The other three all shook their heads. Dealing with the police had been...complicated. They had to, of course. They couldn’t just go back to their old lives without people asking “what the hell happened to you?!”JJ had it the easiest, in a way. Nobody had reported him missing, which was a bit sad when he thought about it, and all the regular patrons of his shop had assumed it closed down. Jack and Chase had more difficulty, since they were pretty public figures. The moment Jack had uploaded a video explaining he was back, the Internet had gone up in flames wondering where he’d been.

In the end, they all decided on the same story. It was pretty lame, as Chase often said, but it worked. They all just lied and said they didn’t remember anything. Weird stitches on Chase’s wrists and neck? Nope. Scars all over Jack’s body? Don’t know what happened there. Schneep losing an entire sense and gaining weird scars that looked like tears dripping from his eyes? No idea, officer. The police had prodded them, but eventually given up, essentially leaving the case unsolved and concluding it was a strange psychological phenomenon. The case would go down in history, but nobody would know the truth.

Of course, when it came to Marvin and Jackie coming back to life, things were going to be a bit difficult. Fortunately, they had magic on their side.

“Have any of you heard from Yvonne?” Jack asked, sliding each of them a menu.

“Dude, why would she talk to me? I’m the least magical person here,” Chase said.

Not since she offered to help, JJ added.

Schneep merely shook his head and picked up the menu. “Oh! They actually have—”

“Yeah, I explained the situation when the waiter came over and he gave me a Braille copy,” Jack explained. “Anyway, she called me the other day. Says that the records should be all fixed now.”

“I still say that can’t be legal,” Chase muttered.

“It’s not.” Everyone jumped, a bit surprised to hear Marvin talk. He didn’t move from his position against the window or open his eyes, but he did continue. “She’s not really into stuff being legal, you know. Normal laws or magic laws. Always thought they got in the way, that...that...her. That...name.”

“Yvonne.” Jackie gently bumped Marvin’s shoulder with his own.

“Right.”

Jack gave the others a meaningful look. Memory issues. One of the lingering side effects Marvin and Jackie were dealing with. They could forget something in seconds. Jackie had taken to writing things down, if not with an actual pen and paper, then by finger-spelling it on his hand over and over. Marvin just sort of let it happen, only writing down the really important stuff. “Anyway, it’s all fixed,” Jack continued, looking back over at the other two. “You guys can...y’know, start doing stuff again. When you want. Move out, if you feel like it.”

“Thanks,” Jackie said. He sounded oddly reluctant. Marvin didn’t even bother to answer.

Chase cleared his throat. “Speaking of moving out, Schneep, did you get your apartment back yet?”

Schneep scowled. “I am so close. The stupid building owner is still insisting on keeping it all preserved, and I say, ‘for what?!’ You are clearly not going to sell it, if everything is still how it is when I was living there. So just let me live in! The police do not care anymore, anyway, so there is no crime scene!”

He probably liked the idea of having a flat where someone who disappeared lived, JJ suggested. It lends a bit of mystery and gives the building a reputation. People might want to move in because of that.

“Well he will still have it! I will just be actually there!” Schneep folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. “Ugh. Jamie, I like you, but your guest room is tiny.”

JJ gave a huff of a laugh. Sorry, Hen. I’d never really needed one before so I didn’t hear any complaints.

“Oh, Chase, what about you? How’s the house search coming?” Jack asked.

“Fine.” Chase shrugged. “I got a few to look at. Y’know Stacy doesn’t seem to mind me staying over. I was surprised, given how she, um...wanted to move out so much a few years ago.”

“Well, things change,” Jack said cheerfully.

“Yeah. I guess that’s an upside of this, we’re, like...friends.” Chase said the word in a tone of bewildered, but welcomed, happiness. The way someone would react to hearing good news that they’d thought was no longer an option. “Again, I mean. A-and I don’t think it’s gonna go further, but...still.”

“That’s great, my friend.” Schneep patted the back of Chase’s hand.

“Yeah, that’s great!” Jackie repeated, suddenly enthusiastic. “So, like, we should order food, right?”

“Oh right.” Jack nodded. “Hang on.” He stood up, looking towards the back of the restaurant where the door to the kitchen was. A waiter was walking out at that moment, and caught sight of the group, quickly indicating he’d be right there. “Oh, nice. I was confused, really, if like this was the type of place where people would come over or if we had to go up there.” Jack sat back down and picked up the menu. “We should go all out. This is a celebration.”

I think I can get a drink, JJ signed slowly.

“Really?” Jack asked, surprised.

Yes, I think the stitches have loosened up enough for that, JJ said more confidently. A small straw or a bit of liquid. Just so long as nobody’s looking when I take off my mask.

“Awesome, man,” Chase said cheerfully. “Honestly, this place looked good on the website. We should get a lot.”

“Celebration,” Schneep repeated, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful. Celebration lunch.”

And for most of them, it was just that, wonderful. They were meeting up again, the last of their troubles were ending. Things were looking up.

But a corner of the table was a bit gloomier. Jackie and Marvin were pretty quiet all throughout the lunch. Neither of them ate that much. Marvin kept his eyes closed or looking down at his plate, and Jackie paid more attention to the salt and pepper shakers than anything else. Once the lunch was over and after everyone said their goodbyes, they followed Jack back to his apartment, where they were staying, and drifted off to separate activities. A book for Marvin, an old laptop for Jackie.

They never once said anything to each other.

— — — — — — —

Ignisa: a spell to conjure fire.

Marvin read the simple command word over and over, repeating it mentally. Ignisa. Ignisa. It was one of the simplest spells out there, and one of the first ones he learned. He could visualize the page of the book he read it in. He remembered it. Really, he did. Most of the time. For the occasions that he didn’t he’d written down the command and what it did on a spare bit of paper.

“Ignisa,” he whispered, staring down at his hands, cupped as if to hold water. He sat in the center of the floor in the spare bedroom, as far away from furniture as possible. “Ignisa. Ig-NI-sa. IG-ni-sa. Ig-ni-SA.” Yet, no matter how many times he repeated it, no matter how he pronounced it or how loud he spoke it, no matter how much he concentrated on the feeling of fire bursting forth in his hands...there wasn’t even a spark.

“Fuck.” Marvin gave up, burying his face in his hands. He squeezed his eyes to contain tears of frustration, but he still let one or two sobs slip out. Why couldn’t he do anything? No fire, no lights, no telekinesis. All the magic he remembered was useless. The only spell that sort of worked was teleportation, in fact he actually found it easier now than it used to be, but he couldn’t quite control it. If he was lucky, he’d end up close to where he wanted to be, and if he was unlucky, he teleported to the middle of the sky twenty miles away. That...hadn’t been a fun evening.

There were only a few spells that worked perfectly for him. Taking a few deep breaths, Marvin lifted his head up, and pressed his hands close together, palm to palm. Slowly, he pulled them away from each other. In the space between them were blue glowing threads of magic, which got longer the farther apart his hands got. If he wanted, he could use these strings like a weapon, grabbing things, pinning them to the wall, and maybe with practice he could use them to swing, like some sort of discount magical Spider-Man. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want anything to do with these. Scowling, Marvin brushed his hands together, and the strings disappeared.

Someone knocked on the door, and Marvin yelped in surprise. He quickly got to his feet. “Wh-who is it?”

“It’s Jack,” a voice said. “Can I come in?”

“Um...sure.”

Jack opened the door, poking his head in through the gap. “Hey Jackie’s making noodles for dinner. Do you want any?”

Did he? Marvin wasn’t really hungry. He didn’t really feel hungry that often anymore. Or maybe he did, and just couldn’t recognize the feeling. Jackie was the same way, but that didn’t stop him from trying to eat. After a bit, Marvin decided it would probably be better safe than sorry. “...Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” Jack hesitated. “Do you...want anything? Need anything?”

Marvin hesitated. He glanced over at Jack before looking away. Wait, why was one of Jack’s eyes a slightly different shade of blue? When had that—oh. Right. “No.”

“Alright...if you’re sure,” Jack said reluctantly. “Come out whenever you’re ready.” And with that, he left.

Just in time, too. Marvin backed up until his legs hit the edge of the bed. Immediately, he fell back onto the mattress, pressing his hands against his eyes. “Stop thinking about it,” he said to himself. “Stop thinking about it, stop it, stop.” That only seemed to make it worse. Images flashed in his head, leftover memories that weren’t his, but also were, and were also Jackie’s and someone else’s. The others called him Anti. Anti’s memories. They would pop up whenever something triggered them, and that ‘something’ was usually one of the others. Right now, the memories were about Jack, about what happened to his eye. Marvin could hear himself—no, Anti—laughing.

Shaking, Marvin slowly stood up again, staggering across the room to the door. Why was it that sometimes, his balance just didn’t work? Why was he so clumsy now? He grabbed the doorknob but didn’t open it, just pressing his forehead into the wood. These were the consequences for his actions. The memories, the problems with his magic, the lack of balance. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t gotten into his head that trying the transference spell would be fine, that not telling Jackie wouldn’t cause any problems...It hadn’t even been about helping people, like how Jackie probably wanted to, he just wanted to see if he could do it, to see if he could increase his power. And he caused everything. So this was his punishment. Served him right.

— — — — — — —

“Marvin says he wants dinner,” Jack said, leaning into the kitchen/dining room.

“Okay,” Jackie said cheerfully, grabbing another bowl from the cabinet. It was easy, since that particular cabinet was missing its door. It would probably stay that way for a while, too, since with all the other repairs the apartment required it wasn’t a high enough priority. Jackie set the bowl on the counter next to two others, then looked over at the pot of water. It wasn’t steaming or boiling. Did he forget to turn the heat on? He tapped the edge of the burner under the pot.

“Jackie!” Jack gasped.

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s not on,” Jackie assured him. “I was just checking.”

“You mean you didn’t know if it was on?!”

“It probably wasn’t.” Jackie looked up to see the dial hadn’t been turned. Oh. He probably could have looked at the dial before touching the burner. Well, whatever. He reached over and turned the dial to the 7 mark.

“Please be careful,” Jack said, looking nervous. “You could get hurt.”

“I am being careful,” Jackie said. It didn’t really matter, anyway. He was having trouble feeling pain lately. Or...most things, actually. It was weird, he was a bit numb. Not by too much, but enough to be noticeable, to know that he hadn’t been like that before. Marvin was just the opposite, nowadays he was constantly being overwhelmed with the texture and feel of things. But he was always more sensitive to sensations than the rest of them.

“Well, be even more careful,” Jack insisted. He backed out of the kitchen. “I’m gonna, uh, hang out in the living room. Tell me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Jackie nodded. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Alright.” Jack hesitated for a second before turning away and leaving.

Everything was fine. Jack really didn’t need to worry, Jackie had everything covered. Making food was easy, really. It was something that he did all the time. The process was automatic, especially for making pasta. Just wait for a bit, occasionally stirring, then drain the water. It was all good. This was a normal thing that normal people did. Things were normal.

Of course, Jackie knew that every single thing he’d just thought to himself was a lie. But it was easier to pretend. Sometimes he pretended so hard that it felt like he was watching a movie filmed in the first-person, instead of actually existing in this body.

Oh, it was happening now, actually. Jackie watched as his hand pulled open the cutlery drawer and took out a long spoon. Then the hand started stirring the pasta in the pot. It was starting to get hot now. There was steam. How hot was it? The other hand reached forward and—

“Shit!” Jackie snapped back to reality, pulling his hand away from the side of the metal pot. “Ah. Fuck.” He looked down. The skin of his fingers was a bit red and tender. He opened and closed his fist a few times to help the leftover burning feeling fade away.

“Is everything okay?” Jack was back, apparently having heard Jackie shout. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just brushed against the side,” Jackie explained.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Well...okay, then.” Jack reluctantly backed out of view.

Everything was fine. Oh look, the pasta was suddenly done. Time had just flown past. Jackie poured the pasta into the strainer and then scooped it into the bowls. Marvin showed up, and then Jack, and they all ate in silence, after which Jack excused himself to go back to his recording room to do some editing. The moment he’d replaced all the broken computer parts, he’d gone back to making videos, though not nearly as frequently as before. That was...nice. Nice that he could do that.

Jackie wondered what he was supposed to do now. Not just for the rest of the day, but...for the rest of ever. He wanted things to be fine, to be normal, and he was pretty good at pretending they were. But they. Just. Weren’t. He couldn’t find the energy to start looking for a job, or for a new apartment, or even for new clothes. But at the same time, he didn’t want to keep borrowing from Jack. He didn’t want to just stay in place, but he couldn’t move forward.

At one point, he’d thought about going back out onto the streets. He didn’t know what happened to his old super suit, but he could make a new one. Then that train of thought had immediately crashed to a halt with a flash of memory. Not his, but also his. Anti’s. A memory with so much pain in it, and feeling glad at that pain. Somehow triumphantly vindicated to see suffering. No. Someone like that couldn’t be a hero.

So things continued. The same things. Every day.

Everything was fine.

— — — �� — — —

Time passed. Autumn progressed, and it became cooler as September blended into October. Jack kept fixing up the apartment, and it was beginning to look good as new. Schneep finally convinced the building owner to let him back into his place, and so he moved out of JJ’s building. Chase was still having trouble finding a house, but he was glad to spend more time with Lily and Moira, absolutely doting on the two of them. Business at JJ’s shop started to pick up again, though he had to get used to carrying around a notepad since most customers didn’t know sign language.

Jackie and Marvin stayed where they were.

One night, a storm rolled over the city. Rain pounded the ground, thunder rumbled in the distance, and nobody went out of their houses. That night, Marvin went into the apartment’s bathroom and pressed his face against the small window to watch the storm. There wasn’t much to see. The glass was cloudy for privacy. But there was water running down the other side, droplets racing each other to the bottom.

Then there was a flash, and a fork of lightning split the window in half. A second later came the thunder. Marvin heard someone gasp, and jumped, spinning around to see Jackie standing in the open bathroom doorway. “Oh. Sorry,” Jackie muttered. “I just saw the lights on in here and—nevermind.”

Marvin just looked at him for a bit, then turned back to the window. Jackie stood there for a moment, then started to turn away.

“Jackie?”

He stopped at the sound of Marvin’s quiet voice. “Yeah?”

“Are we...bad people?”

Jackie didn’t answer, and that was an answer on its own.

“Should we...be here?”

“What do you mean?” Jackie asked.

Marvin started pulling at his fingers. “Just...what if something...happens?”

Jackie paled. “I-it’ll be okay. It’s all okay.”

“Okay.”

Neither of them moved. Then, quietly, Jackie admitted something. “I don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t?” Marvin finally turned around.

“I don’t think I should,” Jackie whispered. “Just...everyone is nice to us. But we...hurt them. Or, kind of us. I mean, he was still us, right?”

Marvin nodded. “I remember doing it.”

“Me too.”

“He can’t come back, though. Right?”

“I mean...no,” Jackie said slowly. “But what if we...what if something happens?” He echoed Marvin’s own words back at him.

Marvin was silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be here, either.”

“Should we leave?”

“What would we do?”

“I don’t know.” Jackie glanced down the hall, towards Jack’s bedroom. “But they’re...good people. And we’re.... We don’t...” He trailed off.

Another crack of thunder.

“Should we leave a note?” Marvin asked.

“No. They can figure it out. Should we stay together?”

“Maybe at first.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, the power in the apartment building went out. Jack left his bedroom, holding a flashlight. “Hey guys? The storm knocked the lights out. You okay?”

No answer. Not surprising, Jackie and Marvin could be pretty quiet. So Jack went to look for them.

But...they weren’t there. Not in the spare bedroom, not in the bathroom, not in the kitchen, not in the living room. “Guys?” he called, voice rising in worry. “Guys?!”

Still no answer. Swearing under his breath, Jack went back to his bedroom and picked up his phone from where he’d left it. He opened up the group chat and sent a message.

Jackie and Marvin are gone. I think they’ve left.

— — — — — — —

It was still storming when they got off the bus to look around. With the rain pouring down, it was hard to make out details of anything. There were the vague, tall shapes of buildings, the long stretches of clear roads and sidewalks...but everything else was a bit cloudy. “We should’ve brought an umbrella,” Marvin said, trying to shield himself from the rain by covering his head with his arms. It didn’t work.

“I didn’t think he had one,” Jackie said, peering through the falling water. “Do you want my jacket?”

“No, I’m fine.” Marvin shivered.

“I...okay, if you’re sure you’re alright,” Jackie said reluctantly. “Here, there’s a street sign over on that corner.” He walked up to the sign, Marvin trailing after him. “Uh...Everwood Lane. I...I don’t remember where that is. Do you?”

“No,” Marvin admitted. They hadn’t really had much of a plan, had they? Just up and left, trusting they’d figure it out in the moment. Saw a bus stopping at a nearby station, and hopped aboard, pretending to swipe bus passes so the driver, who wasn’t really paying any attention, wouldn’t notice. Then they’d gotten off at random, once they realized they’d been sitting in the bus for a while and they had to be far away by then. Why had they thought any of that would be a good idea? Why had he just gone along with it?

“Well, uh. Let’s get inside.” Jackie pressed on, now walking up to the entrance of the nearest building. “Maybe we can ask someone in there, and it’ll be dry.” See? This would work out.

Luckily, that building turned out to be open, and they stepped into a front hall. It looked nice, but was completely empty. The only things of note were the pair of elevators, the door labelled ‘Stairwell,’ another unlabelled door, and a directory on a sign attached to the wall.

“No one’s here,” Marvin muttered.

“Someone has to be here, everything’s on.” Jackie scanned the directory. The building was nine floors tall, plus the ground floor, and every floor was listed as belonging to some business, each with operating hours attached. “Uh...what time is it?”

“...I don’t remember,” Marvin said. “And there’s no clock here. And we don’t have phones.”

“It’s fine, we’ll—we’ll just check around,” Jackie said optimistically. He walked over to the unmarked door and grabbed the handle, starting to push it open. Only to stop short when the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. Okay. That was fine. There were more options. Jackie turned around. “C’mon, we’ll take the lifts.”

“Mm-hmm.” Marvin nodded, following him to the elevators.

The elevator arrived, doors sliding open, and the two of them stepped in. “Right, we’ll just start with the first floor,” Jackie said, pressing the button. He waited for a few seconds, but the elevator wasn’t moving. The button hadn’t lit up. “Um...” He pressed it again. Then a couple more times. Then he tried the other buttons, pushing them hard.

“There’s a card reader attached,” Marvin pointed out, nodding towards a black box mounted on the elevator’s panel. “I don’t think it’ll work without the right card.”

“Oh.” Jackie was momentarily at a loss, but then he recovered. They just had to keep moving. That’s all. “I guess we’ll take the stairs, then.”

The stairwell was tall, white, and empty, metal stairs spiralling upwards with only a railing keeping the people walking up and down from falling off. Jackie led the way, climbing up the stairs quickly with Marvin a bit behind. But there was no luck. All the doors that led into the floors were blocked by the same card readers as in the elevators. Just in case, Jackie still tried to open them, both pushing and pulling, but to no avail. So they just kept climbing, stopping at every story so Jackie could try the doors with increasing desperation, while Marvin watched him with increasing annoyance.

Until finally, they reached the last door, this one labelled ‘Roof Access.’ Surprisingly, this one didn’t have a card reader. Jackie hesitated, then pushed it open, letting in a spray of rain from the storm outside.

“Okay, this was useless,” Marvin said. “Let’s—”

“Well, maybe there’s someone outside,” Jackie suggested.

“In the rain?”

But Jackie was already heading out, pulling on his hood as he stepped into the storm.

Of course there wasn’t anyone there. Disregarding the misery of the weather, it was hard to see anything, including the railing that marked the edge of the roof. It would be dangerous to be up there. But Jackie still walked forward, looking around, until he eventually found that railing along the edge, grabbing the rain-slicked metal to orient himself.

“No one’s here!” Marvin shouted over a clap of thunder. He’d followed Jackie out onto the roof and was now standing about an arm’s length behind him, looking extremely unhappy about the whole situation. “Let’s go!”

“Right.” Jackie nodded. “We’ll just—just try another building, and ask where we are.”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll—we’ll get a hotel.”

“How will we pay for it?”

“Uh...okay, not a hotel. We’ll...find our way to someone’s house, o-or something, and ask if we can stay.”

“What if no one lets us in?”

“We’ll—we’ll find an empty building.” Jackie grasped desperately at a way to salvage this situation, a way that wouldn’t involve them going back. He wasn’t even sure he could find his way back; he’d forgotten Jack’s address somewhere on the way. “Yeah. And then we’ll go to sleep, and in the morning, figure out a better plan. Yeah! It’s fine. Everything will be fi—”

“Everything will not be fucking fine, Jackie!” Marvin suddenly burst out. “This was a terrible idea! Why did we think to do this?! Why did I go along with it?! It’s raining, there’s lightning, we’re lost, my clothes are wet which I hate more than murder, and you’re being delusional!”

“I—I am being optimistic!” Jackie spluttered, letting go of the railing so he could face Marvin head-on. “I am trying to make the best of a difficult situation—”

“We shouldn’t even be out here!” Marvin interrupted. Another crack of thunder rang throughout the sky, even louder than before. “You suggested this! Why’d you suggest it?”

“Well, why did you ask if we should’ve been staying with the others if you weren’t prepared to leave?” Jackie countered. “You didn’t have to come with me! You didn’t have to go out at all!”

“Oh yeah, what was I going to do, tell Jack and the others, ‘sorry, I don’t know where they went, they said they were leaving and I thought that was alright’? No!”

“You could’ve convinced me to stay!” Jackie shouted. “You could’ve shot it down when I said it! But you went along, so you must have wanted to leave, too!”

“I—yeah, but it was more of a vague thing!” Marvin protested. “A what-if! I didn’t expect us to go right then!”

Jackie grabbed Marvin by the shirt. “Then why did you leave?! Why did we leave?! Why did we want to leave?!”

The sky lit up a brilliant white, electricity crashing. A bolt of lightning had hit a lightning rod attached to the building’s roof, only a room’s width away from the two of them. Sparks flew. Marvin screamed. Jackie instinctively covered him, hugging him tight to his chest and bending over. The sound was deafening, thunder right next to their heads, and even after it faded their ears echoed with the remains of it.

“Holy shit!” Jackie gasped, blinking the brilliant light from his eyes. His eyes...which were now glowing. The left was bright green, the right an equally bright red. Marvin’s were also glowing, though his right eye was the green one, and the other one was blue. “That was—oh my god. Marvin, are you okay?”

Marvin didn’t answer for a moment. He just stared at the lightning rod, still faintly glowing from being struck. And then...he let out a quiet sob.

“M...Marvin?” Jackie took a closer look at him, and realized his face wasn’t just wet from the rain. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s fucking not,” Marvin cried. “All I could think about while we were walking up those stairs—all I could think about were the memories, the—you know the ones, the—I wasn’t even there, I was somewhere else. I hate this. I hate this! I hate what’s happened to me! I hate that it’s my fault!”

“Your fault?!” Jackie repeated.

“My stupid fucking selfish spell,” Marvin sobbed. “It’s all because of that! Everything happened because of that! Of course I should’ve realized, if the things I did after the spell were—were like that, then of course! Of course I’m a horrible fucking person that wouldn’t care about what that spell might do!”

“Marvin—”

“And you’re just going around acting like everything is alright!” Marvin said, jabbing a finger into Jackie’s chest. “You just like—like nothing happened, you keep saying everything is fine, it might be for you, but it’s not for me! No it’s fine, it doesn’t matter!”

“I just want everything to move on, Marvin!” Jackie said, grasping Marvin’s upper arms and pulling him close. “Everything has to be fine, but it’s not, so I have to pretend it is! Because if I stop pretending, all I can think about is what I’ve done. Every time I look at the others, I remember how I hurt them! Every time I look at you, I remember how I killed you!”

Silence, and the sound of rain.

“I didn’t...didn’t know you felt that way,” Marvin said, barely audible.

“I didn’t know you did, either,” Jackie whispered.

“That’s ironic, isn’t it?” Marvin commented dully. “Aren’t we connected now? Aren’t our souls all...mixed up with each other?”

“Yeah...” Jackie nodded. “Yeah.”

The two of them stared at each other. Eyes wide, hearts pounding, breathing heavy. Letting themselves be rained on. Until—

The door to the rooftop burst open, and a couple flashlight beams fell onto the two of them.

“Marv!”

“Jackie!”

“My friends!”

It was the others. All of them. Chase was in front with Jack close behind, then Schneep in the back holding onto Jameson’s arm for extra support. “Are you two okay?!” Chase asked.

“What happened?!” Jack added.

Is everything alright? JJ signed.

“Why did you go?” Schneep said.

Jackie took a step backwards, letting go of Marvin, who was too in shock to even notice. “You guys...h-how’d you find us?”

“JJ did,” Chase explained.

Luckily the tracking spell still works, JJ said. How did you two even get here? It’s the other side of town!

“I...we took the bus,” Jackie said numbly. “How—why are you here?”

“We came to find you, of course!” Schneep said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?” Marvin asked quietly.

“What?! Because you’re our friends!” Chase said, gaping. “If you leave to go out with no note, no anything, in the middle of a thunderstorm—” Thunder rumbled in the distance as if to prove his point. “—and without any way for anyone to contact you, anything could have happened! We were so fucking worried!”

“...why?” Marvin repeated.

“You’re our friends,” Jack reiterated. “We care about you. What if you got hurt? That would be—fuck. I-I don’t even want to think about it.”

Jackie felt tears in his eyes, and he let them slip out, hidden by the rain. “But—but it was going to be better this way.”

“Better? Better?!” Schneep repeated incredulously. “No no no no no no, we went through so much to see you again. You cannot just disappear! And less expect us to be fine with it!”

“But...w-we—I—I hurt you!” Jackie blurted out. “So much! I mean, look at yourselves! You still have the scars!”

“That wasn’t you,” Chase said gently, slowly approaching. “That was Anti.”

“Well, Anti was us.”

“Anti was two parts you guys and, like, seventeen parts black magic,” Chase said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It feels like it,” Marvin muttered. “You’d say the same if you remembered doing it.”

“What if something happens?” Jackie said, his voice hushed. “What if we...while we’re around you guys, what if we...hurt you? Th-there’s a possibility, right? As long as we’re around.”

Jack’s next question was soft, almost unheard through the rain. “You don’t want to hurt anyone, right?”

“No!” Jackie said, aghast. Marvin shook his head furiously.

“Then you won’t,” Jack said firmly. “I mean, sure, there will be accidents. But you can’t run from everyone because you’re afraid you might hurt them. A life like that would be so lonely. We trust you. Both of you. And you trust us. That’s what friendship’s built on, isn’t it? Trust.”

Jackie fell silent. The four of them stood firm, agreeing with Jack’s sentiment. Did they...really want them to stay?

“We don’t—” Marvin stammered. “I-I-I don’t—we’re—I’m—not...the type of person...who should have friends.”

“What?” Jack asked, shocked.

“You’re all so nice, a-and good,” Marvin said. “We...I don’t...deserve you.”

“That is ridiculous,” Schneep said. “Marvin, and Jackie, you are both some of the best friends I ever had, and the same goes for everyone else.”

“We’re not...good people,” Marvin said desperately. “If we were Anti, we can’t have been. Good people wouldn’t become...that. A-and you’re all just saying it ‘cause you’re friends.”

Can I say something? JJ, who’d been waiting on the sidelines, finally spoke up. Look, I barely know either of you. I’m new to all this. But I can tell that neither of you are bad people. Flawed, yes, but so is everyone. Chase said that Anti was mostly black magic, and he’s right. You can’t be blamed for what that entity did; its perception was warped and broken. You two are nice, you seem smart, you’re friendly to others. You are not bad people.

“Look, I know, it’s hard to accept that you deserve nice things,” Chase jumped in. “But you do. You want to step away from friends and good things because you think you’re not worthy. It’s gonna be hard to accept that you are. But that’s why we’re here, okay? To help you accept that.”

“And to point out when you need something,” Schneep added. “Something that you think is above you. I swear, I will fight every single bad thought you have, anything that tells you that you do not deserve all the care and love that you do.”

Jack laughed a bit. “Yeah. We all will.”

Both of them were crying, and despite the falling rain, it was quite obvious. Marvin reached over and grabbed Jackie’s hand, pulling him close. “I...I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Jackie nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rasping. “I...we should...I’m going to go back. Are you going to?”

“Yeah. I’m going back, too.”

Jackie nodded again, then let go of Marvin’s hand. He took a deep breath, and walked over to join the others.

Marvin shivered. The rain was starting to feel even colder than it had before. But as he carefully stepped towards the group, it felt a bit warmer.

The moment the two were close, the remaining four huddled around them. Hands were held and tears were shed, slowly joining together in a tight group hug. Everyone kept saying how proud they were of them, how happy they were to have them back, how much they loved them. And more tears leaked out, though of a different sort of emotion altogether. They were so caught up in the moment that they didn’t even notice the rain until they headed back down the stairs.

And as the six headed home, the storm started to lessen.

— — — — — — —

“Can’t believe it’s actually snowing,” Jack muttered, brushing white flakes off his coat. “It never snows here.”

“I like it.” Jackie looked around, taking in the white blanket covering the park, then up at the sky. “Everything looks all clean. I like how the snow is all smooth.”

“Mm. Won’t be for long.” Jack pointed. The two of them were content to sit at a picnic table, sheltered from the snowfall by a nearby tree. But some ways away, two girls were running through the snow, pelting their dad with snowballs. Chase was laughing. It was good to see. Lily tripped over something in the snow, and he bent over to help her up. “There’s gonna be so many footprints when they’re done with it.”

“Aw.” Jackie frowned, pulling his coat closer. He didn’t really feel the cold, but it still affected him, so he had to make sure to dress appropriately for any weather. “Hey...when will the others be here? Do you think they forgot we were going to meet up?”

“I don’t—wait.” Jack paused. “Nope, there they are.”

A car pulled into the nearby lot, and three people stepped out. JJ recently got his license, so he and Chase had become the chauffeurs of the group. He looked around, then waved at the others, turning back to point them out to Marvin and Schneep. The three headed over, and Jack and Jackie made room for them at the table.

“It is so cold!” Schneep immediately started complaining. “There is going to be so much ice later, it is awful!”

“Oh shush, you like having cold weather so you can have warm drinks and stuff,” Marvin said.

“Okay, yes, but that is inside, where I cannot risk the chance of slipping,” Schneep griped.

JJ laughed. Speaking of warm drinks. He pulled his backpack off and rifled through it, taking out a couple thermoses. I thought if we were going to be meeting up out here, we should keep hot.

“Oh nice!” Jack grabbed one with his name written on the side in sharpie. “What’s this?”

Tea and coffee. And hot chocolate for the kids, JJ explained.

“Sweet,” Jackie said, leaning over to grab one as well.

“So, uh...” Jack cleared his throat, and turned to Marvin. “How’d it go?”

Marvin leaned back, rocking slightly on the picnic bench. “Good, I think. I mean, it’s just the first session, but...it was a good sign, I guess.”

“Hey, uh, Marv?” Jackie said. “I...forgot the address.”

“Oh. Right. It’s uh...Hang on a moment.” Marvin pulled out his phone, opening up the notes. “547 Norwich, on the east side. You can’t miss it, there’s a big sign with ‘Riverwood Counseling” on the front. You’re, uh...going soon?”

“Next week.” Jackie copied the address into his own phone. “‘M a bit nervous,” he mumbled.

“Nothing to be afraid of,” Schneep said encouragingly. “They are very good, very reputable. And if things are not working, they will transfer you to someone new without any charge.”

Jackie smiled a bit. “Well, I guess if you guys trust them.”

At that moment, Chase and the girls got tired of their snowball fight and came over to the table. “Hi!” Lily said brightly. “Ooooh, what’s that?”

“It’s a thermos,” Moira explained to her sister. “They’re for hot things like soup. And hot chocolate.”

“Well, would you look at that? There are two with your names on them,” Chase said brightly. “Here you go. JJ, you brought them, right?”

JJ nodded. Cocoa for them. And this one has some tea for you.

“Oh sweet! Thanks, Jays.”

It had been a few months, and the group had decided to meet up for some casual catching up. Chase had finally gotten a new house, just a rental but he hoped to find one for himself eventually. Schneep had started taking online classes. Since he couldn’t exactly continue his surgeon profession he decided to go back and find something else to do. He was particularly interested in physics, and he was convinced that it could explain how his new magic worked. Jack’s apartment was almost entirely repaired, and the Internet had finally settled down about his disappearance. JJ’s shop was picking up business again.

And Marvin and Jackie? Well, they’d found themselves a new place. A small townhouse, just big enough for both of them, part of a row of houses with connected walls. At first, they’d debated whether or not to continue living together or to live separately, but eventually decided on the former. After all, they still had problems, with memory and movement, and more, and decided it would be easier to live with someone who could help out. They were still working on finding new jobs. Jackie wanted something active, and Marvin wanted something quiet. The search was slow going, but they were making do. Jackie had been particularly bored at night, but didn’t want to go out and try being a vigilante again. Maybe eventually. Marvin was still relearning how to use his magic, and was teaching Jackie how to, as well, given Jackie’s new abilities.

The group had been talking for about half an hour when suddenly Moira tugged on the edge of Chase’s coat. “Dad? Who’s that? She’s been staring at us.”

Chase looked over towards where Moira was pointing, and his eyes widened. “Guys. Look who it is,” he said quietly.

The others all glanced in the same direction. “Shi—oh no,” Jack muttered. “It’s that—that magician. Delyth.”

JJ sighed. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time.

“Who?” Marvin asked.

“She’s with the, uh, the magic police,” Jack explained.

“Oh fu—” Marvin quickly ducked his head, deliberately not looking over to where Delyth was standing, casually leaning against a tree.

“Should we talk to her?” Chase asked.

“I think so,” Schneep said. He paused, then stood up. “I will.”

“Wait, no, she’s coming over here!” Jackie gasped.

There was a sudden flurry of activity as the group tried to act casually, pretending they hadn’t seen her and weren’t keeping an eye on her as she walked over. Until eventually, they couldn’t pretend any longer.

Delyth stopped next to the table. “So...it is you,” she said slowly. “You know, you gave us one hell of a scare when you disappeared.”

“Hey, language,” Chase said, indicating the two small girls sitting next to him.

“Oh. Sorry.” Delyth paused. “We were looking for you, but it was like you all just...disappeared. Correct me if I’m wrong, but was a certain other magician helping with that?” Nobody answered. They weren’t about to throw Yvonne under the bus. Delyth shook her head. “Never should’ve given her access to ABIM systems,” she muttered.

“Did you want something?” Schneep asked.

“Hmm...well, no, not really.” Delyth looked them over, making eye contact with each. “You know, the ABIM is pretty busy. If a case hasn’t been active for two months, it’s deemed low priority, provided there’s no significant danger. If four months pass, we have to permanently shelve it, until there’s evidence for it becoming active again. Marked as unsolved, and people tend to forget about it.” She looked down at her watch. “Well, I have to go. It’s been nice seeing you all again. It’s been, what, five months?” After a moment, she nodded towards Jackie and Marvin. “Glad to see it all worked out. Goodbye.”

The group remained mostly silent as she left, though Jack muttered a quiet “goodbye” and JJ waved as Delyth disappeared into a car in the parking lot and drove away. Then, once she was gone, Chase turned to the others. “What was that about?”

I think that was her saying the magicians won’t bother us, JJ signed, a bit in awe.

“Oh thank god,” Marvin breathed. “I don’t want to be on their bad side anymore. No more magic police, thank you very much.”

“She could have been a bit more direct with it, though,” Jackie added.

Jack just laughed. “Wow. So, I guess that’s the last we’ll see of her, then?”

“Provided nothing else strange happens to us,” Schneep pointed out.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t. I’ve had enough strangeness for my entire life.”

So...is it over, then? JJ asked slowly.

“Dad, what was that about?” Lily asked. “Who was that? What did she mean?” Moira nodded, agreeing with all the questions.

“Oh, it’s a bit complicated.” Chase pulled his daughter close and gave her a quick hug. “But it’s nothing to worry about anymore. I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“I guess it’s over,” Jackie repeated.

“Yeah...guess so,” Jack agreed.

Time went on, as it always does. The group ended their get-together shortly after, parting ways for a short while. After a few more months, the strange disappearances faded into local legend, with people speculating what happened but nobody getting close to the truth that was only known to a small group of six friends. Magic remained, side effects lingered, but they settled back into their place, becoming the new normal.

Still, none of them forgot what happened to them for those three years. It would be hard not to. They had scars to prove it, and some memories would never fade. But the past was the past. And together, they moved on, looking forward to the future.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #chase brody #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction #the stitched septics #stitchedstories

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raindropsbarzy · 4 years

Text

gotta have you

summary: you’re older than him and he gets all blushy every time you’re around because he likes you. a lot (you’re 28 in this case)

word count: 2005

warnings: use of weed, fluff shit, strong language

Mat was immediately drawn into you the first time you have met through mutual friends. Anders was taking the team out for drinks after another win to a local bar in New York that he had never been to. Crazy to think that, considering NY is like his home now but there’s one specific bar he had yet to discover.

It was a small cozy bar called ‘LOLA’ written in red neon lights. The building was painted in all black, nothing exciting about it but it was completely different soon as he stepped inside.

“One of my friends owns this place, sings sometimes here too. Her name’s Y/N. she’s a pretty cool chick.” Anders informed the team as soon as they found a table to sit.

Mat had to hear the countless compliments Anders was giving about you almost throughout the night, or perhaps more like showing off his best friend's success and everything. Not that he had any problem with that, it’s just Anders could be a real blabbermouth when he already had some drinks in him.

“Sounds like you got a crush on the girl” Tito piped, smirking as he took a swig of his beer, hearing the others snicker. Including Mat.

Anders was quick to shake his head. “Not possible. The girl’s got standards. We’re just buds anyways” He said defensively.

What Anders failed to mention was how fucking gorgeous you were of a person,

When the captain pointed at a certain dark haired woman going up on stage, along with the lines of ‘that’s her’, he nearly choked on his drink.

You had your hair up in a high top bun, a few messy curls falling over your forehead. Deep red lipstick painted over your lips. An outline of a dragon tattoo decorating your wrist and all the way up to your arm but it didn’t go over your elbows. The ink looked perfect on you. Few piercings perched on your ears and if he wasn’t mistaken, he caught a glimpse of a tongue and nipple studs when he squinted his eyes.

The short black dress you were wearing was hugging your figure the right way. Especially with the strappy heels you were wearing, you looked sophisticated under the dimmed lights.

“Hello beautiful people, how are you enjoying this beautiful evening?” You asked, a smile on your lips.

When you spoke, he was about to fall onto his knees right there. You had the softest voice he has ever heard. With your hand gently grasping the microphone and eyes slowly scanning across the room. He was entranced by you.

And when you began to sing--to a song he had never heard before-- he was for sure in love with the voice that was carried by a gorgeous woman who was standing a few feet away from their table. The way you tilted your head to the side and closed your eyes as you feel in the music. It was something so sexy yet attractive to him. He had his eyes running to your face and down to your body over and over. Shamelessly staring at you with his chin resting on his knuckles.

He had to thank Anders for taking him out here.

The crowd erupted into a small cheer soon as you did your number, which made your lips carved into a grin and nodded your head as a form of ‘thank you’ before walking off stage. He was a bit disappointed to know that you were only singing one song because he wanted to hear your beautiful, dolvett voice at least three more times.

But that feeling didn’t last long, you were walking over to his table with a smile that seemed couldn’t be wiped off your face and he could sense the butterflies in his stomach. Because, fuck.

You looked much prettier up close.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming with your team Lee, otherwise i would’ve put the velvet booth under your name.” You approached Anders before wrapping your hands around him and so did he,

“Nah. that’s okay. We’re good with the table, anyway.” Anders responded, letting go of his grasp around your waist and turn around to look at his friends. “Oh yeah, guys. This is Y/N. Been a friend of mine since we were... kids.. i think?”

“Afraid so” You teased, making him nudge your stomach with his elbow.

“You were amazing up there. Pretty as hell too. Loved your voice.” One spoke out, he had a messy blonde hair tucked underneath a navy snapback.

“That’s Sebastian.” Lee introduced with a grin, shaking his head lightly at his friend who went straight ahead with the words he had chosen.

Giggling, you nod your head. Shooting him a smile. “I’m glad you did. Gotta entertain a few people here.”

One by one, Anders introduced his teammates to you. Who had no shame calling you pretty and a sultry voice to hear which made you blush a few times because you weren’t used to people giving you many compliments at once.

Then your eyes stopped at Mat. Who had his knees bouncing up and down when he got nervous. Staring at your gorgeous brown eyes.

“And you are...” You trail off, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Mat. Mat Barzal” He stuck his hand out for you to shake, which you gladly took.

‘Fuck her hands are soft’

“Mat Barzal” you repeated, humming slightly. Deciding that you liked how the name rolled off your tongue. Plus he was really handsome and adorable as hell. “You’re pretty cute” With that, you retreated your hand back. Seeing his cheeks reddened as he tried to hide it by looking down at the table.

You bit on your lip softly, silently squealing at how cute this boy was acting like that in front of you. “Well, i’ve got a job to do. See you guys later” You waved bye at the boys, not forgetting to send Mat a playful wink when he looked back up.

and that brings you both here. six months later after becoming close friends with each other. The two of you exchanged numbers that night. When the team was mostly drunk off their asses, you sat down next to him and began a conversation in which he had shy away at first. Then starting to become more comfortable with your personality and found talking with you was just as easy as breathing.

He had learned many interesting facts about you. Your hometown, your college major, your favorite artists and crazy ex boyfriend that you had to put a restraining order on. He was truly captivated by the way you talk about something so small yet you made it sound so beautiful. Never in his life, he had ever been this star-struck about someone. And that feeling he had to bottled up for half a year.

right now, he’s coming over to your apartment because Anders is throwing a BBQ at his place and you asked him earlier if he wanted to go together and of course, Mat couldn’t say no to that.

He's wearing a plain black tee and dark jeans with a chain around his neck. Figuring that the fit was good enough for just a BBQ at his friend’s place.

seconds after he knocks on your door, he hears you shout ‘coming!’ along with loud thumping on the floor.

he smiles at the sound of your voice and grows wider when you open the door,

“hi, barzy” you smile softly at him, panting lightly as you open the door wider for him to come in.

“hi, y/n/n” he leans down giving you a kiss on the cheek before entering your place. observing your choice of attire. a white tank top and pink cotton shorts, he notices you have no bra on so your breasts are practically falling over the top. “you’re not wearing that to Lee’s are you? Not that i mind though” he playfully points, gesturing to the clothes.

rolling your eyes, you smack his arm but smile anyway. “Of course not, you pervert. Even if I was, I wouldn't let you see me like that.”

The flirty banter has become a thing between the two of you. Yeah, you’re friends or whatever but both of you still like to flirt with each other, even go as far as being touchy which you have no problem at all. Whenever you go out he has his firm grip around your waist or when you have a sleepover at his house, you like to lay down on his chest and your arm drapes over his toned stomach.

he chuckles at your attempt of hurting him but he begins to frown when he sees a smoke coming from your kitchen. “Did you burn your food or something?”

“What? Oh no it’s not from food. I was smoking a blunt while I was waiting for you here. Just freshly rolled a backwood. Want some?” You offer, taking his hand as you lead him to the kitchen.

He snorts, shaking his head as he sits on one of the barstool. “No thanks, babe. I hate that stuff.”

“You said that because you haven’t even tried it yet” You say, pouring yourself a glass of water and taking a bite of plain bread, helping you to sober up a little.

“Still a no.” He defends.

“Lame” you sign out dramatically, reaching over the counter to turn on the volume on the speaker

“Who’s that?” He asks quickly, finding the song quite catchy. Trying to get a look on your phone.

“Teyana Taylor, ‘How You Want It’. I fucking love her voice. Might sing it next week.” You shrug, chewing on the bread as you sit across him.

He hums, turning the tune a bit louder. “I like it.”

You look at him like he’s got five heads. “Since when did you like RnB?”

“Since that time you sent me three playlists consists of 50 songs each. Had most of them saved on my Spotify.” He answers, grabbing your glass of water to take a sip.

You freeze for a second, smiling fondly at him and trying so hard to ignore the heebie-jeebies in your stomach when he confesses as if it was nothing.

You cannot believe he actually listened to them.

“Really? You really listened to all of them?”

He nods right away, shoving a few Doritos into his mouth. “Yeah. You got me hooked with Jhene Aiko, BJ The Chicago Kid and Summer Walker here not gonna lie.”

There’s no use in holding back the smile now. Your grin gets wider and the faint blush on your cheeks are visible, making Mat smirks cheekily at you with his eyebrows raise.

“Are you blushing right now?” He jokes,

“Well how could I not?” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air as you giggle at him. “Especially when I didn't order you to actually listen to every song in there. You’re making my heart flutter, Maty.” You pout and stare at him with your hooded eyes

He grins softly at the nickname. Glancing at your cute pout and he has to resist the urge to lean over and give you a soft kiss on your lips--like he had been waiting for what it seems to be forever--. His hazel eyes staring back at yours as your hands clasp together and head tilting to the side. Long and messy black hair that you haven’t gotten the time to brush it evenly. your fresh face that hasn’t been covered in makeup yet and a sweet rose scented body lotion on your soft skin. Watermelon lip balm coating your lips.

After months seeing you countless times being dolled up and bare faced with vintage/old shirts and shorts, he decides he likes seeing you like this. Home Y/N is what he loves now.

And he is completely fucked. Because he is in love with you.

And there’s no going back from that.

hii!! do yall like that? because this one is going to be a mini series! this could be one of my favorite writings of Barzy. Let me know if you guys love it and want more! :D

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey #ny islanders #new york islanders imagine #new york islanders

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tipsydipsydo · 4 years

Text

The members having a crush on you! [their indecent thoughts🔞]

Hey my Dears💜

Here we go again into the second round of the "When the Members have a crush on you!"-Scenario(s)!

It's not necessary but still useful to read the first part of the scenario to understand some "connections" (it's kinda a little storyline for each invidual member I'd say? 😂😅)

The link to the first scenario could be found here! [It's gender neutral so everyone can read it!] 💚

This part about their dirty thoughts is in general the same scenario just customized for the specific gender of the reader 🤗💕 (quick reminder: this here is for female readers!😂💗)

The scenario for the male reader could be found here!

My Imagines!

My Masterlist!

Then... I don't have anything to say anymore so let's go!

These following headcanons are my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Jin

the reason why Jin is suddenly so shy to you is...

...that with his increasing romantic feelings for you, others... certain feelings and thoughts enters his mind too

thoughts that makes him feel drawn to you and not just for hugs and cuddles ...

...these indecent thoughts that you shouldn't have about a very close friend.

how your body could look like under your tight-fitting clothes

what kind of underwear covers your beautiful breasts and your perfectly round ass

Jin hardly dares to think about how you could look in lace lingerie otherwise he would have a problem

...in his crotch.

Cooking with you is such a challenge for him sometimes

when he gives you a spoonful of dessert so you can taste if it needs a little more sugar

and you lead it between your soft lips, lick very carefully all of the dessert from the spoon, rolling your eyes full of pleasure and moaning how delicious his dessert is.

Jin has a problem down there in no time.

And not a small one...

how can you let such sinful things come over your lips and look so innocent?!

this unintented sensual moan haunts him, doesn't wants to get out of his head.

he is terribly embarrassed when he mastubates for the first time with the thoughts of you and your sweet voice

he had never cum so quickly

you drive him completely crazy

the more dirty fantasies he has about you, the more shy he'll be around you.

Jin's Adam's apple starts bobbing nervously as you bend down to tie your shoes while sticking your butt out towards him

he would love it to put his big hands on your ass and grabbing it firmly Since then, he has been troubled by fantasies of taking you from behind and ruining your pussy, placing his hands on your soft, perfectly round buttcheeks and pulling them apart to see how well his cock goes deep into you, fills you up and elicits sweetest moans from your lips

you do all of this to him without even having the slightest idea what is behind this (from you) so-called "sweet" shyness.

Yoongi

there are reasons why Yoongi advoid you and locks himself in his room/studio

he wants to choke off every opportunity where he could see you in those damn cute blouses that has sometimes (in his opinion way too often) deep cutouts

seeing the swell your breasts in the white border of your lace bra is too much for him

oh how he hates that you act like you don't know what kind of effect such an outfit has on him! (Although you really have no idea) sometimes he thinks that you only do this to annoy him and to play with his feelings

he knows that he has no chance with you anyway and that he doesn't deserves to touch such a beautiful girl

nevertheless, even with the best discipline, he cannot prevent himself from certain fantasies they're caused by unfulfilled desires arising in his head

he wants to be the one who can eat your so well that you'll push his head even further between your thighs so that his tongue can fucks you even deeper

he wants to be the one who can fingers you until you squirt and let the whole house know that it's Yoongi who let you see spheres where you have never been before he wants to be the one who can stretch your walls so damn well and in all the perfect places, who can make you think of nothing but him and his thick, perfect cock and never want to feel another person in yourself again

what frustrates him most is, that he can't even work normally.

realize that his newly produced tracks are mostly that kind of songs that he wants to be played in the background when he fucks you. they're slower than usual, with a seductive melody and his rap is deep and husky, making countless promises to you of what things he wants to do with you.

the fantasy that absolutely kills him is when you would kneel between his thighs in his studio and spoil his thick cock with your sinful lips, take him completely into your mouth and let his tip slide into your throat while looking at him with big, innocent eyes

when he's about to come, he would pull away from your lips and want to cum on your bare breasts

...deep down in his mind he wants to make a mess out of you and ruin you with his filthy desires.

Namjoon

When Namjoon realizes that in addition to his romantic feelings for you he also develops certain thoughts and fantasies, he tries his best to avoid them

he is afraid to sexualize you in his fantasies

you are not just a sexual object for him,only to satisfy his desires, you are so damn much more for him!

he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable with his, sometimes not so unobtrusive, looks at you

but how can he resist when you are so damn beautiful and everything in him feels attracted to you

he learns from Taehyung that you've read Fifty Shades of Grey you wanted to understand the hype surrounding these books

you said that while writing style and characters weren't your cup of tea, you found the topic of the book really interesting

that is: Dom/Sub-Themes and BDSM

he asked Taehyung countless of questions

if you told him other things about whether and what your preferences were

but he was silent, smirked at his leader and chuckled

"You have to ask her yourself. I'm her best friend, I can't take advantage of her trust and reveal her secrets, who do you think I am, hyung?!"

since then the abstinence of mastubation was over, countless fantasies about various kinds of play sessions with you offered him the necessary satisfaction of his needs

when you pick him up from somewhere and he sits in the car just with you, that's pure horror for Joonie

because he doesn't have a driver's license himself and doesn't trust himself to make it too, he thinks it's pretty attractive that you can handle all of this stuff

especially your focused, serious look at the road and how your hands are holding the steering wheel has somehow an attractive effect on him

instinctively he would like to slide his hand under your skirt and tease your plush pussy lips through the thin fabric of your panties

before he pushes the fabric aside with his fingers and would fingers you

turn your serious gaze into a lustful one, let your fingers grip the steering wheel even more tightly out of pure ectasy

while you have still full control and your focus on driving

he doesn't understand himself, he doesn't even want to think about developing something like a "car-driving" kink maybe it is your charisma and self-confidence that turns him on

gradually he loses faith in himself thanks to you.

Hoseok

Since he knows how your current partner is treating you and they seem to give a shit about your feelings and needs in this relationship he wants to be the one who gives you the attention you deserve

you saved money for your partner's birthday present for months and he only took a quick look at it when you give it to them

you mumble in frustration that you should've rather spend the money on yourself, preferably on new sex toys

Hobi didn't believe his ears at first and looked up at you in confusion, asked what you mean by that

"We only have sex when he feels like it. When I try to seduce them in new lingerie or even ask them if we could have sex, then they makes a dismissive gesture and is pissed off that I should go out of the direction of the TV... It's been like this for a few months since I started shopping online for sex toys out of frustration. Sometimes I really wonder if I'm addicted to sex and I'm a nymphomaniac ... it's normal to want sex two or three times in a week?"

To see you so insecure about your own needs for closeness and just normal sexual activities, so that you start wondering whether you are morbidly addicted, breaks Hobi's heart

he tells you that you are not weird at all and your sexual needs are completely normal and that your partner didn't treat you as you deserve

but unfortunately he couldn't say more, it would have been very strange between you if he had said how he would treat you if he were your partner

the following days and weeks Hobi are plagued with indecent fantasies about you, his best friend

what would he have given only to know what toys you have and how you use them on yourself

and generally, all of these things he could do to you to give you the best orgasms in the world and make you feel like a goddess

he would love to be the servant for your unpleasured desires

to be the one who gives you the feeling of being Cleopatra in Person.

Jimin

it happend accidentally and unintented that you have become a part of Jimin's erotic fantasies

he took care of his needs and jack off like usual to his favourite fantasy that always makes him cum

but not this time

it seems like it wouldn't work that day, he thought it could be stress or pressure that he just couldn't cum, no matter how long he's going to jack off and teasing the most sensitive parts of his cock

he was about to give up when you jumps right into the fantasy

now it's you who's bouncing on his cock, rolling ypur hips in the most sensual way

playing with your nipples, massaging your breasts while his hands are placed on your hips, gives your body more stability so Jimin can thrusts slow but unbelievable deep into your pussy, hitting your G-spot, let come the cutest and sexiests moans over lips

you have to support yourself on his muscular chest, whine about the different angle that makes you even more sensitive

whimper his name over and over again like a Mantra

babbling dirty things that comes into your sex-focused mind

"Oh my god, oh my- Jimin, oh god, your cock feels so good in my pussy, w-when you going to fuck me like that I'll be able to cum without touching my clit, oh fuck! Please, keep fucking me like that, that feels so good, I've never get fucked so damn good, I love your cock!"

Just the thought, those words could come over your lips makes him cum so hard and so much, that his cum is spread all over his bare, sweaty chest

he needs some minutes to calm down and to catch his breath again

then he realised what he has done

he literally fucked the shit out of you and wrecked your pussy in this fantasy and he came so freaking fast only because thinking that you're the one riding his cock

at this point he already knew it's not going to change anymore

how the heck should he behave around you, when you're coming over tonight?!

Taehyung

like I said in my first post, everything started with innocent... well not so innocent dreams

at first he didn't even remember the content of his dreams

but with every time it happens, he remember more and more of his fantasies

one particular is, when you're tied down to the headboard under him, all whiny and squirming while he fucks you with slow deep thrusts, hitting that sweet spot in your body all the time

then he takes the hitachi massager next to you in his hand and press it onto your clit, watching you in pure fascination when you're about to reach your high within seconds

but then taking the vibrator away and hold his cock still in your pussy until you calmed down again

and then the game starts from the beginning...

...his boxer briefs and pyjama pants are wet and stained in the mornings, sometimes he came so much in his dreams that even the bed sheets are ruined

the boys are confused why Tae starts changing his sheets so often

but when they asked he just spat back at them that's not their business

but after some time he came to Jimin and ask him for advice how to deal with this situation and that he feels helpless and ashamed

that he has such thoughts about his best friend

and then in dreams where he can't control these fantasies and his body too

but Jimin didn't laugh, he listened patiently and carefully to Taehyung

then he tried to calm him down, that these things just happen and you can't do anything against it

Jiminie blush a little bit and then reveal his own story when it comes to indecent thoughts about a person you like (a little bit more than usual)

"I hope it doesn't sounds weird to you... but maybe you can stop the wet dreams a little bit when you... when you take care of your fantasies properly before you're going to sleep, you know?"

"You think, I should jack off to my best friend?"

"Well, we all see two miles away that you developed a crush on Y/N. That's why we're all not surprised that you wash your sheets so excessively , we're not stupid and knew pretty fast it's because of unpleasant thoughts at night."

"Wait... all of them knows about it?!"

"Yep, Tae. We all know it, but it's completely fine. We all dealed with it while puberty and when someone has a crush on somebody... well, let's say, everyone here experienced that problem too. By the way, Hobi gave me this tip to jerk off before going to bed. Maybe it'll works dor you too?"

Jungkook

he's the youngest of them, that's why I think he'd be still the one who is the most badly affected by flirtatious or playful alluring outfits, dirty jokes etc.

just an example: you stay over the night in the dorm, coming in the morning into the kitchen to get a glass of water for yourself. You think everything is fine until you hear someone chokes badly behind you... poor Kookie chokes on his cornflakes because you're just standing infront of him in a top and (in his opinion) super short pyjama-shorts...

compared to the others he could get erotic thoughts pretty fast without wanting it

like really.

he's suffering and don't know at first how to deal with it

thinks having such thoughts about an other person is super rude and try to avoid them

feels like a Deja-Vu with his puberty where sexual hormones sexualize literally everything

and that's a sensitive spot for him, he's sick being always the "baby of the group" (he knows he'll always be anyway bc he's the youngest)

he wants to be seen as a mature grown up man finally, that's also why he works out so much

there are two fantasies that makes him instantly hard:

1. Imagine you riding moaning and whining his muscular thigh and whenever he flexs this thick thigh muscle, your clit grinds right over it. Your hands wandering over his defined abs and pecks, try to find a spot to support yourself, seeing your eyes full of lust and desperation, seeing this hunger for a real man like him in your eyes...

that keeps him always going when he works out and push his limits

2. this Scenario in his head kills him always: He's fucking you right into the mattress, finding all these good spots of your pussy to tease the shit out of you... plus his stamina is legendary, you'll end sobbing and crying that you can't cum anymore, that your pussy and your clit is oversensitive... the cherry in top would be, when you try to keep hold of all this pleasure and grip his flexing biceps tightly as if you're drowning and whining his name...

...what ultimately change into "Daddy"... that would gives him such an Ego-Boost, that he's your Daddy, that he's your man and not only "cute boy" anymore!

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

Late :Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 2880

The smile you were fully prepared to give the delivery man falls entirely at the sight on the other side of the door.

“What the hell are you doing here,” You huff out.

Henry crosses his thick arms over his even thicker chest and frowns back at you. “I didn’t get my script.”

A headache is already forming just from his proximity and you don’t bother resisting the urge to rub at your temple. “Well, I sent it to your house a week ago.”

“And I didn’t get it, so clearly you didn’t do a very good job.”

With an eye-roll, you say, “Is there some reason you had to come all the way to my apartment and bug me for the script when I will see you first thing in the morning?”

“Everyone else will have had theirs longer, and I wanted to get a good start on learning my lines, so yes, I have a good reason for ‘bugging’ you, Y/N.”

‘Hey, never got my script. Can you bring a copy in the morning?’ So damn easy.

You turn your head back when Henry’s heavy footsteps hit your hardwood floors. “Hey, I didn’t say you could come in,” You snap, eyebrows drawn together.

“What kind of person would leave their guest outside?”

“Stop acting like you hate me,” He says as he reaches a hand to grab yours.

“Excuse me?!” You quickly swat that hand away. “I am not acting like anything! Any negative feelings you are sensing from me are one hundred percent genuine.”

Henry scoffs and crosses his arms once again. “Oh, please.”

“So!” You pull out the script and hand it to Henry. Without giving it a glance, he snatches it from you and tosses it back on the oak wood surface of the desk.

“So? You’re distracting them from their jobs! We could probably get things done twice as fast if you weren’t around!”

“That’s—”

You blink at the increase in volume that makes the thin walls of your home quiver.

“I don’t know how many times your face manages to flash in my mind in the course of a week, but it’s starting to get to me!”

When you try to walk past him, his hand wraps tightly around your upper arm. “Hey!”

“Leave me alone! I hate you!” You snarl at the rage in his eyes and try to shake him off you.

“You don’t hate me.”

You glare up at him. “Oh no?”

“So what? So irritating? So infuriating?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If I’m such a problem, then go.” Ignoring his words, you point a finger in the general direction of the nearest exit.

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Of course, I do!”

He quirks an eyebrow and cocks his head. “So you’re going to grab me with your tiny hands and throw me through the front door, is that right?”

“I can’t fucking lift you!” You yell.

“Then I’m staying!”

“I think you’re really not! You can’t just demand to stay here! That’s not how this works!”

“Getting you anywhere?” You mumble.

“This whole thing is fucking bullshit and I’m over it.” He swallows. “Tell me what I did.”

“What?”

“You keep saying you hate me but have never given me a reason, so what did I do?”

You slip your fingers out of his palm, looking to the floor.

“Please just tell me,” He begs. “Please, I--”

“You sleep with the women you work with.” You spit out.

“Whether or not you did, it’s not like you’ve been an angel to me anyway,” You say.

“So you do want to get in my pants?”

“No!” He says quickly, then after a beat, sighs. “Yes.”

You give no response, so he continues.

“I swear, despite how idiotic I have acted, I really like you, and I don’t know who your friend is or why she would tell you I slept with a bunch of women on set, but I didn’t.”

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s late, Henry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You won’t meet his stare but can see from your peripherals his head slowly nod. You don’t look up until your front door closes softly behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y/N. You’re here early.”

You jump at the first voice to interrupt the peaceful silence. It was the last moment you’ll have to yourself for the next fifteen hours at least.

Turning your head, you smile at your boss. “Morning, Em.”

“Henry’s here early, too,” She says. “He asked me to let him know when you came in, but seeing as you’re already here, you think you could just head to his trailer now?”

No, you want to say. I’m not ready. “Sure.” You half-heartedly smile, dumping the last of your coffee in the nearest trash can.

Leo loyally returns the ball to Henry three more times before you gather the nerve to step up to his side.

“Em said you wanted to see me.”

You notice him hold in a breath when he registers your voice, then tossing the ball once more, he says, “I’d have gone looking for you myself if I knew you were here.”

You nod, but you’ve yet to look at one another.

“The makeup artists are gonna have a blast today trying to make me look decent,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t sleep all night. I spent it trying to figure out what to say to you but came up short.”

You scratch behind Leo’s large ears when he nudges your legs with his head. Henry gently grins, though you don’t see it. You shrug. “At least you don’t have as many scenes today.”

Henry chuckles. “That’s true.”

“I couldn’t think of anything to say to you either,” You say.

A moment passes as he blows out a deep sigh.

Finally meeting his eyes, the corners of your lips curve up just a bit.

“But I don’t expect you to feel the same about me.”

“Henry…”

“It’s ok.”

He looks at you. “It’s not.”

“It is.” Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm. He stares at the touch you give him as you continue. “I didn’t have a good reason for treating you like I hate you, not really.”

“So, you don’t…hate me?”

“…No.” You look away in shame. “And I have a better explanation for that.”

He blinks, clearly relieved that every horrible thing he figured you felt for him was not, in your heart, the truth. “You don’t owe me one.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Wait,” He turns his body fully to you. “What?”

“I’ll bother you as much as you like,” He says and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear.

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @anise-d-castle6 @rebelliouscat @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @genius2050 @lokilvrr @sunshine-seven @missjayi @agniavateira @tumblnewby @forthebrokenheartedthings @summersong69 @starlite13 @mstgsmy @purplelove75 @defffcc

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 4 years

Note

Probably crack and a result of staying up way too late, but how do you think an AU where Peter dated and married Naomi instead of Nora would go?

This officially goes on the list of “ships I never considered before, but now that you say it I can kinda see it.” Peter’s clearly got a competency kink, between Eva and Nora. Naomi deserves better than Dan. They’re both overworked single parents who try to do what’s best for their kids, and don’t always succeed. Peter’s good at the nurturing and hug-giving and supportive side of things, not so much at the day-to-day practicalities. Naomi’s excellent at making sure everyone is fed and sheltered and keeping up in school, not so much at the touchy-feely stuff. Yeah, I can see it.

Anyway:

They meet through the PTA, naturally. Naomi’s there to stage a formal protest about the high school’s suspension of late-bus service, and Peter’s there because this is the once-a-month night out of the house that Marco keeps scheduling for him. Naomi makes a sarcastic comment about the U.S. government’s idea of “sufficient funding”, Peter jumps in with a one-liner about science grants, and four hours later they’re still companionably trashing the NSF over their third round of bake sale brownies. Peter makes the first move, of course. Naomi sets the time, the venue, the curfew, the transportation, and the expectations for the night, of course.

Jake thinks this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life. The more both Marco and Rachel call him to complain about their respective parents, the funnier he finds it to be.

Both Naomi and Peter are pleasantly surprised at how well their kids get along. They were both vaguely aware that Marco and Rachel knew each other through school, but neither one is prepared for the instantaneous companionable banter the teenagers fall into the moment Peter first brings Marco over to meet Naomi.

The first four or five times Marco comes around Rachel’s house for dinner, Jordan hides under her hair and watches him in enraptured silence. After about two months’ worth of this, Rachel drags Marco aside after an Animorphs meeting and has a stern conversation with him.

Neither of them will tell the others what they talk about, even though Ax expresses concern at the brilliant red shade both their faces have taken on and Cassie gives them a knowing smile. Technically Tobias overhears the whole thing — the others tend to get so caught up in hawk eyes that they forget all about hawk ears — but he’s nice enough to keep his silence.

The next time Marco’s over at Rachel’s house, he lets out a seven-second belch after downing an entire can of Mountain Dew in one go. Over the next ten minutes, he insults Jordan’s favorite boy band, picks his nose in front of everyone, claims he’s going to die alone because girls are gross, and (to Rachel’s quiet shock) too-casually acknowledges his raging crush on Brad Pitt.

Anyway, it works like a charm. Jordan gets over her crush pretty quick after that.

“You didn’t have to go quite that hard in the paint, you know,” Rachel says to Marco much later. “Pretending to like Brad Pitt, I mean.”

Marco is lying on her bed, looking through one of her back issues of CosmoGirl with the air of a forensic anthropologist picking apart the dismembered remains of a human sacrifice. “What?” he says, back in that too-casual tone. “I can appreciate a good pair of lips, no matter what type of human being they grow upon.”

Rachel spins around, looking away from the mirror where she was fixing her hair. Marco is now staring at the magazine as if trying to detect a coded message between two lines of the spread comparing different brands of eyeliner.

“No matter what type?” she asks.

Marco lifts his chin. He doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t laugh. There’s a defiant set to his smirk, and the careful confidence in his expression is betrayed by the slight trembling of his fingers clenched around the Cosmo.

Their parents are engaged, that’s all. And it’s not something he’s ever told anyone... but he also thinks it’s maybe the sort of thing that one tells one’s siblings.

“So you do agree with me and Cassie about Jeremy Jason McCole!” Rachel says triumphantly.

Marco gags so hard he risks straining his own throat muscles. “I have taste! You, clearly, have none.”

If Jordan still has any romantic interest in Marco at all even after the you’re going to be step-siblings news broke, it disappears the instant that Naomi announces Jordan and Sara are going to be sharing a room from now on, because Marco and Peter are moving in with them. A week later, Jake’s mother has a stern conversation with him about the extent to which he’s been running up their phone bill. He grumbles that he didn’t ask to be everyone’s agony aunt, but that doesn’t get him out of being grounded.

Marco teases Rachel endlessly when he figures out why she leaves her window open every night, even — especially — when it’s cold or rainy outside. But he also helps cover for her and Tobias without being asked, and one night in gorilla morph he deforms the oak tree out in the back yard so that a sheltered branch rests directly underneath her windowsill.

Rachel stops in the door of Marco’s room the day after the confrontation with Visser One outside the fake hork-bajir valley. She doesn’t bother to knock. He didn’t bother to shut the door.

Marco’s sitting in the narrow space between his bed and the wall, staring at the blank blue paint in front of his face. His knees are drawn up to his chest, his hands limp at his sides.

“They didn’t find a body,” Rachel says, blunt as ever, standing over him. “I know that’s not good news or anything. But I also figured you had a right to know. There’s no sign of Vis— Of her body.”

Marco squeezes his eyes shut, hard, but still can’t stop the tears. “Shit.” He lets his head fall back against the bedspread. “Shit.”

Hesitating only a second, Rachel scoots in next to him. She doesn’t try for a hug or anything stupid like that, but she sits shoulder-to-shoulder with him. She’s the kind of person given to stillness, but she stays put as he struggles to breathe and swipes his sleeve across his face time and time again.

“It’s never going to end, is it,” Marco says at last, when he’s got enough air for words.

Rachel shrugs. “I’m the wrong person to ask.”

“Shit,” he whispers again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You wanna play Sega?” she asks. “Not think for a while?”

Marco shakes his head violently. “I just need some space, okay?”

“Sure.” She stands. “I’ll tell my mom not to expect you for dinner.”

Their parents are downstairs cooking. Laughing. Arguing companionably over one of Naomi’s cases. Every clink of dishes, every fond word, feels like a spike driven under Rachel’s fingernails right now. And if that’s how she feels...

“Anyway, I know you think I’m a crazy psycho killer, but for what it’s worth I think you made the right call.” She says it sharply, standing to go. Marco doesn’t respond, not that she expected him to, and she yanks his door shut when she goes.

Peter doesn’t try to be Rachel’s dad. But he helps her with homework and shows up to her gymnastics meets and acts more excited than she is when she aces a history test. He asks her what she wants to study in college, not whether she’s going or how they’re expected to pay for it. He doesn’t try, and he does pretty well anyway.

The Animorphs meet in Rachel’s room almost as often as they do in Cassie’s barn. It’s more centrally located, even if it doesn’t have nearly the selection of morphs right at hand. Jake and Cassie both have preexisting excuses for showing up several times a week, and Tobias and Ax never bother using the front door anyway. Marco’s also taken the time to confirm that no one in the house is a controller, so it saves everyone a little peace of mind.

Rachel wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. No, that’s not it; she’s screaming in her sleep, and then Marco snaps the light on and wakes her. He sets a glass of water on her nightstand. Tilts the alarm clock so she can see the time. Pokes her in the arm to remind her that she’s human, at least for now. When it becomes obvious that she’s not going to talk about it, he turns and leaves without ever saying a word.

“I need you,” Marco says into the phone, middle of the night, apparently apropos of nothing. “They took my dad.” He gives the address, and then he hangs up.

He and Rachel have come to a decision, without discussion, without niceties like consulting Jake, by the time they’re done fighting off the half-dozen controllers who were dragging Peter toward the portable yeerk pool. Rachel demorphs as Peter watches. Marco goes through the explanation the first time, then the second.

Midway through the third round of attempts to convince Peter he’s not crazy, Rachel gives up. She herds both Peter and Marco into the backseat, and drives back to the house. “Pack for a long trip,” she tells them both, and goes upstairs to tell her mom.

Maybe, Jake concludes, exhausted just at the thought, they could’ve kept going if it was just his parents, or just Cassie’s. But Rachel and Marco can’t both disappear without rousing too much suspicion, and getting rid of just one of them will put the yeerks on the tail of the other. “I guess it’s time,” he says. “Better get ready to tell our own parents, then.”

By the end of that day, Rachel’s and Marco’s blended family is in the hork-bajir valley. By the time two days have passed, Jake’s and Cassie’s families are there too, even if Tom is currently secured with about a half-mile of duct tape and will need to be babysat by several hork-bajir for the next three days. A week after that, Tobias shows up with Loren in tow. One hellish mission later, and Visser One is dead, but her host is rapidly recovering.

Naomi and Eva circle each other like a pair of housecats thrust into the same room, at first. They’re prim and aloof and wary, unable to know what to make of each other. Peter helps exactly nothing by retreating from the conflict entirely, busying himself with an elaborate irrigation project the hork-bajir don’t actually need his help with. But he can’t escape them forever.

One night, all three of them get roaring drunk on some kind of regrettable fermented-bark thing, and finally have it out. Peter makes a passionate speech or two about his love for them both before retreating into morose silence. Naomi’s sixth drink ends in her making an elaborate attempt to draw up a timeshare contract over who will keep Peter on which night.

Eva slams a hand down on the table, and they both fall silent. She won’t share, she announces quietly, and she won’t be with a man who cannot choose. She’ll find her own way.

Her own way, as it turns out, is even worse than Marco could have possibly imagined.

“Why?” Marco cries, flopping on the ground in the middle of the next Animorphs’ meeting. “Why, why, why does this keep happening to me?”

“Pretty sure we’ve been over this before, back when it was your dad, and concluded it’s not about you,” Jake says. “Anyway, the yeerks —”

“No!” Marco sits up. “We have more important things to talk about than yeerks. Tobias, back me up on this!”

«Uh, yeah.» Tobias looks over at Rachel. «By the way, all those times you talked about how weird it was when your mom started dating again... Sorry for not being more sympathetic. Now that I’m in your shoes... It’s really weird.»

Rachel sniffs. “You only met your mom like a month ago. It’s still worse for me.”

“And it’s worst of all for me!” Marco has flopped back over. He emits a noise something like a wookiee being murdered. “Please someone acknowledge that it’s worst of all for me!”

Cassie pats him on the back of the head. “It’s worst of all for you,” she says.

“Thanks,” he says into the grass.

“Okay!” Jake throws up his hands. “Marco’s mom and Tobias’s mom have a thing going. Now do we have it out of our systems?”

«Personally, I think Loren and Eva are most compatible,» Ax says.

«Nobody asked you,» Tobias snarks. «And Jake, just imagine for a second if it was your mom who was macking on—»

“Nope!” Rachel says loudly. “Nobody is thinking about anyone’s mom and anyone else’s mom. Or dad. We are ignoring it, we are pretending it’s not happening, we are carrying on as Marco and I have been for over a year now, we are killing yeerks.”

“Yeah, like I was saying.” Jake rolls his eyes. “There are aliens invading the planet, remember?”

“The horror,” Marco mumbles, still facedown in the grass. “The horror!”

Cassie gives him another sympathetic pat on the back of the head.

#animorphs #animorphs au #long post #aus #naomi berenson #peter animorphs #rachel berenson #marco animorphs #sorry this is mostly not crack #anonymous #asks

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