#gonna try and get some writing done tonight now that most of my organization is out of the way!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whentherewerebicycles · 1 year

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ruthie slowly realizing I have the front camera turned on 😂 this dog hates being photographed!

we were up for a bit at 5 but it was too early and I was sleeepy so ended up dozing for another hour or two. rainy morning here. I’m trying to really savor the cozy snuggly days as life is about to get so hectic for me:

I’m in pittsburgh friday morning through monday night (YAYYY) attending two weekend games and hanging out with bec!!!

I have tuesday to run errands and do laundry before my mom arrives wednesday

we leave early thursday morning for 14 days in japan and korea, during which we are hitting tokyo, osaka, kyoto, nara, mt koya, hiroshima, miyajima island, fukuoka, busan, daegu, and /seoul… I’m soooo psyched but also 🫠 it’s gonna be a whirlwind and I still have to do quite a bit of prep to be ready

we get home on a wed, I have thurs to recover from jetlag slash finalize my job talk, and then friday is the all-day campus visit

THEN I leave sat morning for houston and get back late monday night

it’s gonna be a lot!!! so very okay to be slothful this weekend and for as much of next week as I can manage I think. I am building up my reserves of rest and solitude lol.

mmkay. tonight I am having dinner + watching tár with mary later (and maybe seeing my sister at some point in the afternoon tbd) but the morning is my own! no pressure to get anything done in particular but here are some options:

could do more campus visit research for fun! my first gen programming book is arriving sometime today so I could read that and take notes, or I could spend some more time working through these articles I pulled up on designing programming for transfer students. I was also thinking it might be fun to create some one-page idea/vision/notes docs by hand on various topics—I feel like writing by hand will reinforce my memory of key details, and then making decisions about how I want to visually organize/arrange content will be a good exercise in synthesizing what I’ve learned. lol even as I’m typing this out I’m like ‘OOOOH that sounds like fun!!!!’ so I guess I’ll probably do that.

my former student is calling me at some point today to talk about transfer students’ experiences. he’s around my age (went back to undergrad after serving in the military for a long time) and is fun to talk to because he’s super smart and just like… more of a fully formed person and professional than the college-age kids. so that will be fun and should give me some useful threads to follow in my research.

pick up my CVS prescription

hmm maybe I’ll put my laundry in right now? I also want to change linens/towels. I cleaned most of the house yesterday so don’t have much else to do in the way of chores… and I have a bunch of leftovers to finish before I’m allowed to make anything else so no cooking to do today either.

if it clears up I’ll go for a shorter long walk (the hourlong loop?) unless it’s really nice and I feel like doing the 90+ min trek again. not gonna let myself run today though—I can tell I pushed it a bit yesterday with the long fast walk + running two days in a row at a quicker clip than usual. just a little bit of achiness!

I finished a novel yesterday and want to start the next one today so I don’t break stride, but that can wait till before bed unless I’m moved to read earlier.

mmkay I think that’s it! take it easy and do fun relaxing stuff today.

#i also have to decide if I am going to try to do an IUI next month if this one doesn’t work#the timing is going to be so tight #and the chance of missing the window and wasting another $450 is semi-high #i think I’ve decided if my period starts on 4/6 it’s cutting it too fine and I don’t want to risk wasting the money #but I’ll take the meds with me and if it starts on 4/7 I can try it if I want #I’m just not sure how jetlag/time changes will affect things #so it might not be the worst thing to take april off and remove that stressor #then resume in may #i can’t start thinking ahead ahout this job because I’ll be too crushed if I let myself envision the future & don’t end up getting it #but getting pregnant in may/june/July wouldn’t be the worst thing as it would get me closer to a spring/almost summer maternity leave #more time in the job to get established plus I’d come back during the summer (chill relaxed time) instead of mid semester #idk we’ll see #I’m in a really good headspace re: IUI at the moment #not calendar watching except to plan future cycles not reading forums and don’t feel a lot of pressure to make This One work #i get 6 tries!#and then I was listening to a podcast the other day and feeling really moved/called again by the idea of fostering #so I think things are going to be just fine however it all shakes out #and if nothing else the IUI process has really gotten me into excellent routines around fitness and food

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squigglylinesdotthei · 3 years

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Down Time

Pairing: GlennXReader

Warnings: 18+, Fluff, Smut, Oral (Male Receiving), Unprotected Sex, swearing

Wordcount:1898

A/N: Hey there, in this version, Maggie and Glenn were never a thing, they were always just friends. So… Without further ado, this is my first ever posted fic and my first ever posted smut so please go easy on me. I chose Glenn because I feel like he needs more lovin. If you enjoyed, let me know or send a request, I will write smut for 18+ characters only!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glenn couldn't help but stare from his spot in the guard post as his girlfriend y/n bent over to pick up some crates brought in from Daryl and Abraham's run today. He eyed your round ass pulling perfectly at your denim shorts, sweat beginning to soak the collar of your tank top and bead down your chest. 'Shit' he thought, feeling his jeans grow just a tad tighter. ‘Let's hope that’s not an issue’. You look up at him and smile.

You look up as you were grabbing one of the last crates and catch Glenn staring at you from his post, you smile at him and he smiles back sending you a wink as he turns his attention back over the walls of Alexandria making you blush and look down, a small smile gracing your face. Your relationship with Glenn was no secret to anyone; it had started back at the prison with small glances and lingering touches, after a while though (and with A LOT of pushing from Maggie) your relationship came to flourish.

You carried your crate to the pantry, placing it onto the floor before standing back up and wiping the sweat off your forehead.

"thanks y/n" Olivia said walking over to you with a bottle of water handing it to you.

"Of course Olivia. Always happy to help" you responded with a huff, twisting open the bottle and taking long slow drinks from it. Olivia turns to the crates and begins to organize everything into its place. You turn around, recapping your bottle and walk out, spotting Glenn climbing down from the platform. You make your way over to him, smile on your face as he turns around to see you.

"Hey, you" he says winding his arms around your waist and dipping his head to give you a chaste kiss on your lips. You let out a small giggle stretching up to kiss back, dropping your arms over his shoulders.

"Hey," you respond after, same goofy grin on your face "all done for the day?" You question stepping back but keeping his hand in yours, you pass him the water as you lead him towards your shared house.

"Yeah, Rick said I could take the rest of the day off, something about workin myself too hard" he laughs, drinking some of the water, "finally some downtime" he pulls you close before dropping an arm around your shoulders leading you up the porch steps. You push the door open and turn in his arms holding his hands to lead him back into the house.

"Well thank Rick for that," you smirk looking at Glenn through your lashes, god was he attractive, hair and shirt slightly dampened with sweat from standing in the sun, "I think I have a few ideas on how to fill this down time if your up for it" you bite your lip to hold back a grin as he kicks the door shut behind him.

"Oh yeah?" He quirks up a brow, mischievous grin now gracing his face, letting you know exactly what's going through his head. "what exactly did you have in mind, hmm baby girl?" He asks huskily as he tries to pull you closer as you wiggle free of his grasp.

You let out another playful giggle skipping to the bottom of the staircase, "most of them involve you, me, and that bed up there" you turn and start to run up the staircase, hearing Glenn's bootsteps close behind. You almost reach the bedroom before you let out a soft shriek as you felt his calloused hands grip your hips and twist you, pinning you against the door.

"Where're you runnin to huh?" He softly growls, before attacking your lips with his. You let out a moan, letting your arms fall to his shoulders and arching you back to grind on the thigh he had slotted between your legs. He took that opportunity to slip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth, quickly taking dominance. He breaks the kiss only to catch a breath and reattach to your neck, sucking and nipping at your collarbone, surely leaving a mark.

You moaned at the thought, "Glenn please," you breathed, for what you were asking for you didn't know, you just wanted more. He seemed to get the message though as he gripped the underside of your thighs and gave a small tug up.

"Jump," Glenn mumbled into your neck. you obeyed, hopping up and wrapping your legs around his waist softly moaning as his hard bulge brushed perfectly against your clothed core. Once you were secured you leaned over to begin peppering soft kisses across his neck. "Christ y/n," Glenn breathed, opening and closing the door to your shared room and laying you on the bed. He brought his lips back to yours, his hands sliding your tank top up, only breaking the kiss to pull the offending fabric over your head.

You begin to paw at the buttons of his loose gray button down, quickly undoing them and pushing it from his shoulders. Running your hands down his now bare chest you reach the waistband of his jeans, you fumble with his belt buckle for a moment before he grunts and pulls back from you to remove his pants and boots himself. You whine at the loss of contact before pulling your own bottoms off, kicking your shoes off too.

Looking up at Glenn standing by the side of the bed, you sit up and admire him. His brown eyes darkened with lust, his thin but muscular frame, and his smooth chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. Down to his toned stomach before your eyes fall on his impressive cock, long, hard, thick and leaking with precum. Your mouth watering at the sight. You bite your lip thinking of how he tastes, and how good his length feels sliding down the back of your throat.

You roll over onto your front and crawl over to the edge of the bed, making him step closer as you did. Standing there he looked down at you with anticipation as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding it to your lips. You part your lips and stick out your tongue to lick the underside of his head before taking it into your mouth, sucking on it.

Glenn Rolled his head back and groaned, tangling his hand into your h/c locks. “Fuck y/n just like that sweetheart.” you groan at the praise taking him deeper into your throat, feeling your panties grow even wetter. He lets out another low groan before pulling you off his member with a soft pop of your lips. “As good as you look with your pretty lips around my cock, that’s not where I wanna cum tonight.” he smiles at you, lifting your chin to look into his eyes. “Lay back princess.”

You follow his instruction, sitting up and removing your bra in the process, he climbs over you as you settle onto the pillows, resting his weight on his left arm he brings his right hand up to your cheek, pressing a soft passionate kiss to your lips. He parts from your lips and begins to trail kisses down your neck to your chest before pulling one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. You gasped out a moan as his tongue swirled around your bud. His hands continue down to the hem of your panties. Sliding them down your legs and off your body before bringing one hand back to the bed beside your head, and the other cupping your soaking core.

“Fuck me Glenn,” you cry out as his finger slides through your folds and brushes your clit. You arch your back trying to get more friction, “Glenn please, I need you,” you plead, wrapping your arms around his back trying to pull him closer, desperate for any type of friction Glenn was willing to give you.

“Shit, you’re fuckin soaked,” he breathes, loving the way he makes you fall apart, your small moans all made just for him, made because of him, “I know Babygirl, m’gonna take care of you” he says taking his hand around his length running his it along your folds, gathering some of your slick before pressing into you with one long slow thrust, the two of you couldn't stop the loud moans that escaped you both as Glenn slid home.

He stayed there for a moment, bottomed out, wrapped up in the feeling of your twitching velvet warmth. Groaning you roll your hips urging Glenn to move, his eyes rolled back in his head as he buries his face in your neck and begins to roll his hips.

“Fuck y/n, you’re so tight,” he grunts in your ear, nipping at your pulse point.

“Glenn, harder please” you pant, digging your nails into his back when he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you. You nearly scream in ecstasy as he drags across your g spot, his pubic bone brushing your clit with every thrust. “Oh God Glenn, just like that!” you cry as he continues to pound into you. You clench around him, causing him to throw his head back and groan. You take the opportunity to bring your lips to his neck sucking a mark onto his pulse point, nipping down as the coil in your lower belly tightens.

“Glenn, I-I’m gonna cum,” you groan, clenching around him again, he brings his hand down to your clit and begins working it in quick strokes, with a loud moan of his name the coil snapped, sending you tumbling over the edge. Tensing around him he fucks you through your orgasm chasing his own.

His hips falter, and you can tell he’s close. You wrap your legs around his waist and tangle your hands in his dark hair, you pull him down for a kiss, pulling away you look into his eyes, clouded with pleasure.

“Cum for me Glenn, lemme feel you baby” you whisper, rolling your hips to meet him. His hips still against you and he lets out a deep moan as you feel him pulse inside you and his cum coat your walls, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he rocked into you, not ready to give up his feeling of bliss just yet.

It was the feeling of you pressing soft kisses along his jaw that brought him back down. He slipped his softening member out of you and rolled onto his back, you groaned at the loss before rolling over to lay your head on his chest. His arm wrapped around you as he used the other to pull the blanket over the two of you.

“Thank you y/n,” he says, pulling you tighter to his side, “What did I do to land me someone like you?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know I ask myself the same question,” you giggle tracing shapes on his chest with your finger, suppressing a yawn as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. “I love you Glenn” you say, words slightly slurred as you start to fall asleep.

“I love you too y/n,” Glenn presses another small kiss to the top of your head before drifting off himself.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I probably wont post super often but I’ll post when I can. If you did enjoy, lemme know and consider a follow

#twd #twd smut #glenn rhee #glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee smut #twd fanfiction #Daryl smut #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead smut

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lvnatiq · 3 years

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Modern!au Felix Escellun x tattoo artist!gn!reader | Headcanons

a/n: Hey!!! I’m back at it again with my beautifully fucked up request fill. I’m still working on three other things, while I make you wait I took it upon myself to not starve this fandom. So here you have it. Please reblog or comment so that I have a crumb of motivation to keep up.

Should I do a smutty pt. 2 ? Who knows lmao.

Your hand slipped through the pile of designs that your colleague (and your close friend) had sent you to choose and pick apart from.

Unfortunately you were spending the night at the beautiful library of your uni, trying to balance off your school work with your actual work.

You didn’t mind spending your time under the faint scent of books and the mere sound of wood beneath you feet, but what you ‘do’ mind is the fact that the library is way colder than you thought it would be after the midnight.

Good thing that the yearning for finishing your work and leaving as soon as possible made it easier to concentrate on the task at hand.

It also made it easier for you to not notice the presence of an unexpected company.

That was until you felt the warm floral yet musky scent invade your senses as you felt the weight of cotton drape around your shoulders.

You slowly turn your head towards the owner of the coat who’s already making their way out. Desperately trying to find a way to make them stop but failing to raise your voice because of the circumstances.

The last picture of the person buried in your head was their hair caressed by the wind and their quick steps.

Fast forward to a week later, going completely out of luck with finding a place to stay you decide to ask help from your friend whom interestingly has a lot to offer.

With things going a lot smoother than you expected you stopped by the tattoo shop to finish your appointments with couple of customers before you left to meet up with your possible candidate.

“Don’t bother I’ll just call him here so you could talk comfortably.”

Your work seemed to take a lot longer than usual. So you kindly accepted your friends offer as you wrapped up the leftover stuff, finishing up the last customer.

“Hey, oh-“

The sight of your guest tickled your memories as you kept glaring at the glorious figure in front of you.

Felix, completely avoiding eye contact, placed the fallen hair strand behind his ear as he kept his eyes on the table of the tattoo equipments.

You quickly got up as you grabbed his coat from the hanger and walked back where you left him.

“Thank you for the coat, you really saved me back there.”

“Oh- no problem.”

That day you two chatted and melted the ice in between. Deciding to rent the close by apartment and start your roommate era.

Your friend smiled to themselves knowing all too well that felix was completely crazy about you.

Your encounter at the library wasn’t a coincidence either, well don’t think of him as a stalker now, he just dumped a couple of coins in the fountain wishing that you would be there that night. That’s all.

As you two moved in together you realized that there were a lot of things to be ‘caught off guard’ about him but you were most baffled by the tremendous amount of books felix owned.

“Hey Lover boy ! Would you mind recommending me some of them ?”

Felix blushes terribly and you love it so much that you constantly bother him in order to catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

Unbeknownst to you, the pile that felix left on the doorstep of your room was consisted of the books that he thought of you as he read.

Felix, abandoning his night owl habit, decided to fix his sleeping schedule for the better. Definitely not because he wanted to see you at morning before you got off to the work.

Insisting on offering you a ride on your way back home with his nice car.

Nearly every single day.

He knows that it may annoy you but he knows how much you are devoted to your responsibilities so he at least wants for you to save a bit of energy before you dive into the work.

Speaking of his nice car, it tickled your curiosity so you decided to check the price tag on the web and... well...

“Felix... you don’t so some sketchy illegal shit for a living right ?”

“It’s nearly impossible for me to work at the moment because of my studies. Why did you ask ?”

“Your car costs more than the apartment we are living in right now.”

With that, you discover that Felix’s father owns one of the most prominent chains of pharmaceutical companies and that he basically flee from his fathers mansion because he was pressuring Felix to take over his position in the future.

Being his puppet was not a thing to be tolerated in Felix’s book.

That being said, your domestic life with felix was pretty soft to say the least.

Cleaning together, cooking while talking about how your day went or getting to enjoy his expressions while he spilled his frustration against authors that didn’t affect him well.

Occasionally noticing the new cooking books appearing out of nowhere

and the delicious smell of food welcoming you after work, quite often than you expect.

Finally, more skinship.

One day whilst you two got through the gates of your apartment block you noticed the open doors of the elevator so instinctively you held Felix by the hand and ran into the mirrored box.

What you didn’t notice was the fact that you didn’t let go of his hand as you two went up.

From that day on Felix used every single opportunity to sneak his hand into yours.

Don’t blame him, it’s just that your hands are warm and the feeling of security that radiates from your fingertips is his medicine.

You absolutely avoided to tease or point it out to him because you knew that he would never do it again so you went with the flow.

You really enjoyed it though.

Snaking your arms around his waist while he is organizing the bookshelf. Feeling him shutter into your arms.

Nights became more and more enjoyable once he started to accompany you.

Everytime you caught him slacking on the sofa, you used his lap as a pillow.

Felix is extremely easy to figure out, mainly because he can’t hide anything.

Also, well

He is ticklish and you use his weakness against him, a lot.

Diving your fingers down to the sides of his tummy you started to tickle every possible sensitive spot you could catch on.

“Spit it out.”

“I-I wan’t you to- give me my first tattoo.”

Telling his words apart from his adorable giggles, needless to say you were ecstatic.

“Alright. What do I get in return ?”

“Name your price.”

You thoughtfully stared at the ceiling, humming as you blurted out your very obviously well thought out response.

“I want you to show me what keeps you up all night.”

You can’t be serious.

If you asked for an organ, he would’ve been more compliant.

You didn’t know what you got yourself into.

You basically asked for him to show you his ‘masterpieces’ that he showcases on AO3. Something that you were already well aware of.

“Deal ?”

“No !”

“Good ! Let’s see what you got.”

Felix anonymously contributed to the community by writing some of the most famous slow-burn stories on the web.

Just so you know, his author persona blew up thanks to the mind blowing, earth shattering smuts he wrote.

Yeah you heard that right

Smuts

Well he is fucking panicking now.

Nonetheless days kept on going as felix prayed each night to every single deity that you forgot your ‘deal’.

The days go on even if his worries don’t.

Did I say that Felix is a whimpering, whiny mess ? he struggles to stay in one position as the needle drags upon his skin.

“If you plan to keep on moving, I might as well strap you down felix. 5 more minutes and then we are done. Please behave.”

When you put it like that how can he refuse I mean you made things worse he is internally screaming at what you just said but he is not going to refuse a command when it’s given by you.

In exchange for giving him a tattoo you decide to let him give you one even though he’s inexperienced.

He’s terrified because he thinks that something would go wrong, his hand would slip or something and he would scratch that pretty skin of yours with a horrendous tattoo.

But you assured him nevertheless and offered him to draw something very minimal and easy. He accepted eventually.

As it turns out Felix is a natural. His hand is extremely steady and the tattoo turns out great.

Throughout the process he’s constantly asking if you’re hurt because he thinks that he’s doing something wrong but in fact he’s very delicate and gentle with the strokes and his touch.

You decide to be evil and use it against him. After you touch up your tattoo you lean in very closely and turn your cheek towards him.

“What are you doing ?” He stutters.

“I can’t possibly ask you to kiss my freshly made tattoo, so won’t you give me a kiss so that it heals faster.”

If his hands were steady before they weren’t now.

As soon as his lips left your cheek you held him by his wrist and pull him back close again so that you can lean in onto his ear.

“Don’t think that I’ve forgotten our deal. I am excited to see what you have in store for me tonight.” You winked.

Then the worst thing happened

The “tonight” came.

Felix was running in circles around the living room with one hand on his forehead wondering what could get worse after this.

Maybe you’ll be disgusted or scared hell if he knows.

He wanted to do nothing to harm your relationship in anyway because you and what you two have is all he ever wanted.

...and he believes that he has a tendency to ruin things.

But what happened was beyond his expectations.

Your eyes followed every single sentence throughout the screen, the white light traced your expressions as your eyebrows raised up and down and the corners of your lips inched closer to your ears. Your lower lip became a victim of your teeth’s assault.

He was so confused. Still waiting for you to lash out or make fun of him, at least.

“I used to think ‘what am I gonna do with you’ when it comes to you. Mostly out of frustration.”

Yet here you were with the laptop closed shut and your arms behind your head as you closed your eyes and groaned.

Slowly the smile plastered on your face grew.

”Now I know what to with you.”

#felix escellun #fictif felix #last legacy #fictif last legacy #felix escellun x reader #felix x reader #felix fictif #nyx hydra #fictif #mc

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stupid-stew · 3 years

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i took notes on the art stream dana did tonight in my own way, yes this is also what my school notes look like so my formal apologies

dana didn’t have many friends or anything in college (self defined recluse)

king is the hardest character to draw due to his specific skull shape

dana loves pokemon and the king resemblance is a coincidence, and she drew everyone to be RIPPED

XENA THE WARRIOR PRINCESS WITH THE ABS LMAOOOO

young entrepreneur out here art queen getting that bag WHY WAS SHE MAKING SHIP ART OF HER CLASSMATES FOR MONEY AT THE AGE OF LIKE 11 IM SOBBING

king ruined the sand castle :(

the mcdonald’s coffe, it sucks apparently

insomnia dana supremacy, felt that

DANA WINS ROUND 1 (against her will)

side note i think i need to start watching more anime, that’s just for me the remember tho

“let’s get weird”- dana terrace 2021

“give us the most uncomfortable furby suggestions please”- also dana terrace 2021

FANFICTION JOURNALS CAN WE GET THOSE PUBLISHED

hard time communicating outside of drawings (one of us 👹)

toh is script driven, sicknasty

her test was turned away SPILL THE TEA

dana proposes to furby suggestion giving chat member

8months struggling for job

turned away from power puff girls boooo

“i called up a friend and we had a drink and i cried :(“ -dana

FURBY WITH HUMAN ANATOMY

YES YES YES MITCHELLS YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

the director had to fight to make the furby scene happen and sir we appreciate it

“androgyny is beautiful”- dana, about a furby

yes girl let jesus take the wheel on that anatomically correct furby

WHY WAS SHE TRYIKG TO TEACH HER FURBY DO CURSE THATS SO FUNNY

“fuck you! fuck you!”- not dana’s furby

$80,000 in debt for this

“shit shit fuck shit”

“as good friends, as disney would say”

dana trying not to lose her job

“AH GOD NO THE FEET THE FEET”

straight black coffee you psycho

DANA LOOSES TO THE CURSED FURBY

HAHAHA TINY NOSE IN THE SIGIL

cannot cook, girlboss, win dana with food

CATBOY SHREK

catchphrase? “AAAAAAAHHH”

scared of spiders

do not wake the cat

“is that a pile of garbage or is that ur self esteem after i fucking demolish you”

-dana terrace 2021

the iconic “byeeeee” was difficult

why can’t she draw shrek

“i need validation please jesus christ”

-dana terrace 2021

someone buy this woman the cat gamer headphones alex hurry up

she does not like the booth but she does it for us thank you queen

dana fainted getting a stick n poke rip

AWWW SHE GOT STEVE BLOOM THATS SO CUTE FOR HER

SHE DISLIKES FANTASY???? BOI WHAT THE HELL BOI

at least she’s having a good time making her own gross little fantasy land, improvise adapt overcome

dana unlocks the idea of things being done in different ways and have them all be good for the masses

“limitation breeds invention”

“wow ur really wise dana”

“….thanks dawg”

“well i didn’t have friends… no one laughed.”

i want the little comics of her pets

cat person dana

DANA WINS CATBOY SHREK

awww little stick and poke on her ankle

does not celebrate her birthday

OOOH THE HAMMERHEAD IS HER FIRST ONE I LOVE THAT ONE

#mood bunny

KERMIT ON STEROIDS

“how can we make this weird” GIRL IT IS KERMIT ON S T E R O I D S

HER LITTLE LAUGH IM SOBBING

this is literally psychological warfare

dana has not watched the muppets but she knows him drinking the tea so winning

DANA THE ANGST QUEEN LMAO

she’s proud about her making dipper and mable fight

DANA ANIMATED FOR NEXT WEEK MARK UR FREAKING CALENDARS

hooty is the owl house canon?

i wish the owl house was like a creature that would have been so funny

CAT APPEARS

season 2 is outline heavy when it comes to the writing

dana knows what she wants for season 2 and we love that

execs up the wall on season 1

DANA LOSES MUSCLE KERMIT

dana has not found the character porn! keep it up girl! stay over there!

oooh bike queen

SWING DANCE OH MY GOD

TAP DANCING

THIS WOMAN IS AN ICON I LOVE HERRRR

yes get that energy out girl

ddr stan, loses to matt braly at gravity falls team bowling hang out

cat is sad :( give her a snack :(

AWW GHOST HAS ASTHMA omg kinnie moment

conspiracy theory enthusiast when intoxicated

vaccination queen

does not believe in ghosts, kill me girl i’ll haunt you don’t worry i’ll prove it

DOG WORKING IN A CAFE

“the ow house get ready to get some boo boo”- this other guy because it made me cry

“you’re gonna have to pay me to write shit because i don’t work for free”

not a music person

DO A FLIP

dana do a flip for charity please i’ll donate like an organ or something

she can canonically do a flip and she’s not gonna show us this is homophobic

AH FUCK MY STREAM CUT OUT

her neighbor is parking yes get it

draw left hand

while holding pen wack

do it in online version of ms paint

“MS pain”- dana not finishing her word

and stick and poke

show us the work stuff dana >:(

an ARTIST

“he’s a strong independent dog”

“4 minutes 20 seconds 😏 h e h e h e”

WHY CANT WE SEE HER HEADBANG THIS IS SO RUDE

not the muscle pulling girl not now

“also dog”

CHAMPION DANA

IMAGINE DANA CALLING UR ART CUTE

H E L P THE FURBYS I CSNOT

ghost gets rejected

“he’s not impressed with ur bullshit”

catra shrek fan girl moment

dana has probably done drugs

“i am a fan of waluigi”

AN ITALIAN POLITICIAN SMACK TALKING THE OWL HOUSE LMAOSJB

note to self dana will only marry you if you look like kermit the frog

also dog comes from a land where dogs eat people at starbucks

LOWES AD

“he’s making out with it! he’s using tongue!”

there are bouncers in cafes where also dog comes from

dana has worked the cash register

someone make real witch merchandise

Q AND A YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

hooty is he has a very he has more he has a backstory it exists it’s written out but we might not ever get it because it’s just for her dana please i am on my knees

would play dnd if she could

favorite episodes haven’t even aired but currently is echoes of the past or keeping up a fear ances because they’re personal especially a fear ances

TOO LATE FOR EXTENDED SEASON THREE BOARDING HAS STARTED IM GOING TO CRY

SPIN-OFFS SHORTS AND COMICS STILL ALLOWED IM LITERALLY DEAD ON THE INSIDE

mentally she is thriving with the show and it’s going to end well 🙏

“it’s just my voice :(“

BYEEEEEEE

#the owl house #dana terrace

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

PINING, BAGELS, REPEAT.

— WHEN THE DRINKING'S DONE ; PART 6 / ?

( gif from this gifset by @jascontodd )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

SUMMARY: Sunday night dinner with your mother doesn’t go as planned when Bruce shows up unexpectedly at your door and you both know how your mother really loves him alot.

A/N: Slow and kinda long-winded chapter again haha. I used to be the kind of person who couldn’t write long stuff. Now look at me. Who is she??? Enjoy this one yall. Probably one or two more chapters to go, depends on how much I can write <3

WARNINGS: Swearing, alcohol. I write about what I feel and they are very real. So if you find these things triggering, please do not read this.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Sunday night. You’re in an apron, flushed from the heat of the stove. You’ve just poured a glass of wine for your mother, but she doesn’t drink it—too busy walking around your apartment, clearing your stuff as she criticizes your lack of cleanliness and organization. Grading papers during exam season keeps you busy. Needless to say, you don’t have the time to clean your goddamn house.

You still love her anyway.

You’re at the sink, purple-stained fingers from peeling the tunic of the red onions are under running water when there is a knock on your door. It’s deafening, rapid, and agitating. You’ve just spilled boiling water onto your hand and you really don’t need another problem to come charging at your front door. Literally.

Moving out of the kitchen with haste, you call out over your shoulder to your mother to quit rearranging with bits and bobs of stationary and papers because yes, it’s messy but you know exactly where everything is. The knocking doesn’t cease, and your annoyance aggravates further. You’re gonna have to punch someone or something if it doesn’t stop.

You aggressively pushed the barrel of the bolt lock, swinging the door open as the strands of your wild hair flew backward in the sudden blow of air.

All forms of anger and agitation disappear as soon as your gaze meets the flushed face of none other than Bruce fucking Wayne, dressed in a grey dress vest, tie hanging loosely a pristine white shirt, and an ebony tweed overcoat. This feels like deja vu. Your expression goes through a series of mixed emotions, mostly confusion, when it morphed into a guise of embarrassment, cheeks even redder. “Don’t tell me I texted you by accident again?” He blinks, seemingly as bewildered as you are. “What? No, no. No. I—” His sentence is cut short when he takes a moment to catch his breath. Your brows are frowning even deeper than before. “Did you run here or something? And what are you doing here anyway?”

Bruce shifts in his stance, a palm against the door frame, shaking his head. He feels small under your interrogative stare. “No, I came here to see you…” he trails off, eyes shamelessly skirting across your figure. He just now notices that it may be a bad time for him to turn up, and you’re hit with the realization you’re in a ratty apron, very red and very sweaty. You’re right. It is deja vu because why are you always a mess when Bruce shows up at your front door unannounced? You abruptly pull the apron over your head, hurling it behind the door, hands palming the frizz of your hair into a somewhat presentable look.

“Look, I need to talk you—”

“Honey! Who’s at the door?” He’s being cut off mid-sentence again. This time, by your mother’s voice from the living room. Your eyes are wide again—so are his.

Your mother’s fondness for Bruce is an understatement. Obsession is a better word. She had only met him once, and that was six years ago but the conceptualization of being somewhat related to an exceptionally handsome and successful man had gotten to her head all those years ago. Hell, she loves him more than she loves you. Your mother—A woman who wishes to call your best friend ‘son’ with a whole lot of love to give. If she discovers Bruce is here, at your doorstep, she will never let go. Never. And you both know it. There’s a silent understanding that travels between the two of you and the look you’re giving him tells only one thing—Run before it’s too late.

“Bruce Wayne as I live and breathe...”

Well, too late.

A small-statured lady stands on the farther side of the hallway, face lit up with sheer joy and excitement as if she had just won a lottery. She approaches him with arms open wide and soon, her hands are laid on his cheeks, examining the man’s face carefully. Bruce just stands there, stiff as a rock, unsure of how to regain his composure from all the adrenaline of wanting to see you now that he was in such close proximity to the woman who raised you. When it’s you, he tends to struggle with timing and it’s partly the reason he has never managed to act on his feelings for you. For the longest time, he has wanted to be more than friends or whatever the hell this was. He had been hesitant but now, he’s very sure.

Sometimes it feels like it's the right person but the wrong time. He doesn’t want it to be that way. He wants to make things right with you.

And there he was, being squished under the grasp of the lady that loves him very much.

He catches your gaze; you flash him a sympathetic smile as you mouth the word “sorry.” Bruce arches his brows, indicating he has no idea what to do or how to get out of this situation.

“You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you!” the older woman exclaims, a hand now firmly on his shoulder, the other brushing away his long strands of hair from his face with affection. Bruce would never admit it; he likes the attention your mother gives to him—the touch of a mother. Something he longs for.

“Why don’t you come in and join us for dinner? There's more than enough food.”

Crap, you should have known that question was bound to be mentioned. You’re not convinced that you will be able to suppress your emotional heartburn and the idea of Bruce tasting the dishes you’re cooking, it’s making your palms sweat. But what the hell. You shouldn’t be this nervous around him, you’ve known each other for years. He has seen you at your worst and vice versa.

Still, you’ll like to avoid the predicament of a dinner table set for you, your mother, and the man you secretly love. You’re quick with an answer. “Oh, I’m sure he has other important things to do. Bruce is very busy—”

“I’ll be happy to. I have no plans for tonight after all.”

You stare at Bruce, eyes glimmering with shock and betrayal—he is supposed to be on your side. He simply sends you a swift wink, and you feel the growing and most likely apparent deep red of your already flushed cheeks. You glance away to face your mother, eye crinkling in hopes of concealing the effect he has on you. Well, at least your mother looks fucking overjoyed. Maybe the night won’t end in disappointment.

The scent of chicken and spice whiffs through the air from the dishes of chicken and chorizo paella you’ve managed to whip up in a quick thirty minutes—a recipe you came by in an article titled “Fancy dishes for lazy cooks.” Well, it’s certainly working; everyone looks pleasantly surprised when you emerge from the kitchen with a cast-iron skillet within your kitchen gloved-grasp.

Happiness is the sound of the clinking of cutlery against nearly empty smeared plates, the splash of wine cascading from the bottle you held into the glasses of your guests, and the occasional laughter that erupts from your mother as Bruce tries to make a joke through mouthfuls of paella. A symphony of contentment and comfort, composed and orchestrated by the two most significant individuals in your life. Beauty is made anywhere beautiful people are; in this space, cramped up at the beech wooden table made for one by the casement window that overlooks the apartment across yours.

This side of Bruce—where boyish smiles were manifested and hearty laughs arising from the belly—is the side you miss the most. Years ago, things felt simpler though your past self would deny that notion as human life continues to become more intricate as we grow older and our eyes see more. Innocence to maturity. Happiness to grief. But, the complexity of this warfare between the brain and the heart seems to reside in perpetual darkness, no light at the end of the tunnel. For a long time, you thought deciding to be alone could eventually bring peace to the madness but maybe, you’ve been with the wrong people this whole time. It’s your reflection against the window pane that shows the evident crinkle in your eyes and the constant upward in the curve of your lips even though it contrasts the gloomy hues of blue from the sky at twilight—you’re happy.

It’s the way your mother leans over and wipes off the bits of rice from the corner of your mouth and the exchange of awkward smiles when Bruce accidentally brushes his hand against yours when reaching for the fork. This is what you want. And maybe, just maybe, you deserve to not be alone.

“So, have you decided on who you’re taking to the wedding?”

Your mother’s voice hauls you back from your daydream. She gives you a knowing look, discretely glancing towards Bruce on the other end of the table. She knows you don’t have a date, and you know she wants you to bring Bruce. You feel your anxiety creep back in.

This is weirdly the second time you’re in this situation.

“I don’t know yet...” In times like this, you wonder if your mother wields some sort of magical ability of truth or something because no matter how much you try, you can never lie to her. And now, you wish the ground would collapse and swallow you up. You know she means well, but oh my God, Bruce is staring at you and you don’t know what to do with your hands anymore.

“Wedding?” Bruce chirps with a questioning brow as he glances between you and your mother. Now, you’re forced to explain for the sake of context. “My cousin’s getting married next week and mom here wants me to bring a date.” Your mother’s expression indicates that you’re lying through your teeth. Yet in reality, it’s not technically a lie if you’re leaving parts of reason out of the explanation because it’s true she wants you to bring a date but you don’t mention how you don’t want to go alone because weddings make you sad.

It sounds pathetic.

Bruce just nods, taking a sip of his wine. The fact he’s not saying anything is making you anxious. You thought you didn’t want him to be your date but now, maybe you do. These feelings are messing up your brain. It’s just mush now, and there’s no cure.

These are the times you want to say “Fuck you, Bruce” but in the nicest way possible.

“Why don’t you bring Bruce?”

She was direct as they come but is mostly tired of your lack of initiative and doubt. I mean, it’s not like you’re asking him to marry you, right? And honestly, you’re kind of relieved you didn’t have to be one to do it but you can’t keep depending on her to do all the heavy lifting for you. You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re a goddamn grown adult.

Nevertheless, you peer at his reaction to this from the corner of your eye, fully expecting some sort of a resting jaded expression or eyes wide in horror but he’s just looking at you...with that look—highly bewildered and almost seems to be entertained by your embarrassment. Despite the purse of his lips, you manage to catch sight of the slight impish tuck of his lips.

He thinks it's the wine, but he isn’t exactly sure.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“Are you sure about this?” you cross your arms, as you watch Bruce shrug on his coat from the rack. The two of you are squeezed in the entryway of your apartment, huddling in hushed conversation. “About what?” he asks absentmindedly when in reality, he knows exactly what you’re referring to. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s an excuse to be around you longer. You purse your lips, shifting in your stance, eyes flickering away from his gaze. “About coming to the wedding,” you say it slowly, carefully, like you’re afraid to and you’re not sure why. He nods with the furrow of his brows, tugging his hands into the pockets of his ebony tweed coat. “I’m sure...Unless you don’t want me to come—”

“No, no. God, of course, I want you to come,” you stop, realizing how your sudden outburst of excitement must have made you seem desperate. You clear your throat, feet shifting once more. “I don’t want to pull you off work just because I don’t want to be alone.”

He raises his brows, nearing a little closer to you. “So that’s the real reason?” A hint of a smile—it’s a teasing one. You simply throw a fist to his arm yet unable to stifle your growing smile. “Don’t be a jerk.”

Bruce winces followed by a laugh that comes out more light a puff of air as he bares his palms in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”

Maybe, it’s the walls of this hallway, covered with hung framed photographs of family, childhood, and friends because it’s starting to feel warm. You think it’s the way his eyes light up when you laugh, radiating a sort of comforting warmth on this cold night. It feels like home. Bruce feels like home. You notice the prominent stain of your mother’s lipstick on his left cheek. You bring one hand to rest on the curve of his cheekbone, thumb trying to efface the smeared stain away.

You’re not sure if it's the smell of his deodorant or the sudden sense of his breath on your skin that made you comprehend the closing gap between your face and his. In an instant, your hand jerks away and returns to your side, clenching to a fist. Bruce clears his throat, bringing a hand up to scratch the growing stubble at his jaw. The touch of your fingers lingers like a burn.

Recognizing the tension in the air, you decide to avert your thoughts back to the conversation you were having in the first place. “You know, you don’t have to come. Really. You’ve done a lot for me, and you know that.”

“Yes...but I’ll always have your back no matter what.”

He smiles at you. The kind that reaches his eyes. He looks younger like this.

“And I’ll always have yours, Bruce.”

You’re an idiot. He’s an idiot. You’re just two idiots, standing in the hallway with hearts that feel like they’re about to explode. Despite the lingering tension in the air that’s still present, you bring him into an embrace. It feels natural, your arms around his shoulder and his on the small of your back. “Thanks for everything. Especially for making my mom really happy.” you punctuate your sentence with a gentle caress to the back where his shoulders meet. You hear the muffled sound of his laugh, feeling the rumble of his chest against yours as you try not to squirm at the brush of his unshaven chin against the curve of your neck. “No problem,” he mumbles before pulling away.

“And you need a shave.” You’re pointing to his chin and he finds himself scratching it again. He merely hums in response.

Swinging the door open while you wave him goodbye feels like a part of you is leaving. You’re not sure why you’re feeling this newly found emptiness in you when you know you’ll see him next week. You decide to blame the wine. It’s easier that way.

He’s walking away, already out of view when you decide you should really say something at least.

“Bruce,” you suddenly call out; he turns on his heels and backtracks a little too eager to face you at the doorway. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” He frowns in response, head tilting in a questioning manner. “When you came here, you said you needed to talk.”

He recalls the real reason he was here in the first place. Rushing to your door like you’re about to disappear any minute. Yet, you’re here, still at the doorway, three hours later. Fuck, he was about to confess.

Bad timing. Again.

Right person, wrong time.

No. He’ll make it right. Just, not now.

“I was...going to thank you for the bagels; Asiago. Nice choice.” Is what he says instead of reciting the words that had been running through his head in rehearsal since the drive to your apartment. He ignores the way your shoulders sag, perhaps in relief—he doesn’t want to know. He ignores the burning in his chest when you nod, the corners of your mouth tugging into a faint smile as you raise a palm in a somewhat solemn wave of farewell. He ignores the sting in his eyes when the door closes on him, symbolizing finality when he really doesn’t want it to end. Left alone in the dismal light of the hallway; it acts as a poignant reminder of his bereavement and how much of his consolation depends on your presence.

When the drinking's done, does it make it any easier for him to open himself up to you?

Bruce allows himself to cry once he pulls the car door to a close because he feels overwhelmed by the conflicting thoughts that continue to reside in his mind. The regrets, the what-ifs, and the should-haves. He forgets himself sometimes because he gets so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t recognize himself anymore.

You keep him grounded. You remind him who Bruce Wayne truly is.

He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the rearview mirror.

You’re right. He does need a shave.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #justice league

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nightwishesworld · 3 years

Note

Hello! I love your writing and if you do take request, might I ask for a family night (including Heisenberg) playing Monopoly please? (OC is already in a loving relationship with Alcina and the girls love her)

Oh boy anon, this was by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever written. It’s not my best cause I know zero about the game so I had to try and work around it. Hope you enjoy anyway!

It's that time of the week again in the Dimitrescu castle. The most sacred and anticipated time of the week; not hunting, not harvesting, not even wine tasting... it's game night.

As soon as the sun sets the girls swarm in the drawing room to ready the space for the night's antics. Daniela digs out the game while Sorine opens all the curtains, letting the warm light of the moon shine through, and Victoria lights the fire and torches. It became a ritual not long after you moved into the castle. The girls often confided in you how they wished to spend more quality time with their mother on more than one occasion. Hunting maidens and harvesting their blood was fun, but they've been doing that forever! It was no longer as thrilling as it once was, not it felt more like a chore that needed to be done. And you can't count how many times Alcina admitted to feeling guilty about not giving her daughters more of her time. So when you pitched the idea of a routine game night, you got very little pushback.

The only one who hesitated was Daniela, and only because she insisted on inviting Uncle Heisenberg, which was totally fine. You get along rather well with the werewolf and enjoy his visits. Getting in touch with him was rather difficult though. Most of his visits were spontaneous reasons to see his favorite nieces, while the other few were strictly business-related held by Alcina. It took her some time to locate her brother, but it also gave you some time to make your way back down to your old home in the village to gather your collection of board games and puzzles. Some were missing a few pieces or cards, but they would have to do for now. Worst case scenario you just buy new ones.

When Alcina finally got ahold of Heisenberg he eagerly accepted and promised to start making his way back to the castle; the girls were thrilled. After all, it wouldn't be proper family bonding time without good ol' Uncle Heis.

In the beginning, it was decided that everyone took turns deciding what game they were going to play. The cycle started with you of course, since the whole thing was your idea, then went from oldest to youngest. Everyone had a blast playing against each other and laughing at one another. You can't remember a time you'd seen Alcina laugh so hard, she was almost brought to tears. Everything was just peachy until Victoria, ever the mischief-maker decided you should play Monopoly. The poor Dimitrescu's had no idea what brand of hellish gameplay awaited them. Only an hour and a half in and Daniela had successfully bankrupt her own mother. The proud look plastered on the girl's face would have been more amusing if it weren't for Alcina losing her temper. That was the one time you couldn't wait for the night to end, and hopefully, never play it again.

Much later that night in bed with Alcina curled up on your chest you woke with a chill running down your spine. It's Daniela's turn to pick the game.

Which is how you ended up lounging on your favorite chair by the fire watching Daniela and Heisenberg setting up the board and organizing the money. Again.

Alcina is sat on the floor next to you leaning comfortably against your chair sipping her third glass of wine. "Why are we doing this again?"

You give her a sympathetic smile. "You know why, dearest, it's game night."

She only rolls her eyes at you. "You know what I mean, draga mea. Why monopoly?"

"It was Dani's turn to chose the game. It'll be fun, don't worry Al."

"Yeah Mother," Victoria giggles. "What's wrong with monopoly?"

"You mean other than how overly competitive and childish you all become?"

You were about to open your mouth when Heisenberg started to laugh. "You say 'you all' as if you aren't just as bad."

Alcina chose to ignore him in favor of her wine.

"Ah! Mother's just upset cause she knows I'm gonna make her go bankrupt again," Daniela smiled as her sisters snickered. "I forget, what did you say you were going to do to me, Mother?"

This caused the chorus of giggles to erupt into laughter. "She said she was going to disown you!" Sorine choked out.

"Forging an alliance against your mother is just plain rude! And you-" she points to Heisenberg, "you stole my companion!"

Laughter erupted in the drawing room. You leaned against Alcina's arm as you lost the ability to breathe. "I did not steal them," Heisenberg handed you both your starting $1500. "I was in a financial bind and y/n was willing to make a deal."

"And just like that our alliance was born." You lean forward and fist-bumped the werewolf. "Let's let Al join us tonight, Heis, now we'll be even against the girls."

He ponders for a moment before noticing his sister's golden eyes burning into him and hastily shakes her hand. "Welcome to the team, sis."

Alcina sighed and accepted his hand in a near bone-crushing grip. You tried not to notice the man wincing. "About damn time."

You shot Alcina finger guns with a wink and "pew pew" and she full-heartedly laughs. "What on Hell's earth was that?"

"A dumb human thing, don't worry about it."

"Horray!" Daniela grinned. "Now Mother has a fighting chance."

"Now girls," you chided. "Let's try to keep this friendly tonight, ok? As funny as it was, and it was," Alcina glares at you from behind her wine glass. "We're going to let it go now. No more ganging up on your mother."

The girls gave an innocent smile, "of course y/n."

"Wouldn't dream of it, y/n."

"Cross my heart hope to die!"

Wait, aren't they already dead? You shook your head. Doesn't matter.

"Are we using the same pieces as last time?"

"Might as well," you saw before Daniela can get a word out. "We were all happy with our tokens last time, yes?"

Daniela huffed and crossed her arms. "I want to be the dog!"

"Aw come on, Dani," Sorine says. "I think it's only fair Uncle Heis gets to be the dog."

"Since, ya know, he is a dog," Victoria smirks.

To say the atmosphere of the room was intense would be an understatement. But, you couldn't be entirely unhappy with the course of events either since your alliance was winning. Victoria is bankrupt and Daniela has been sitting in jail for the past three turns. Alcina refuses to sell her Get out of Jail Free card. Oh, how the tables have turned. Daniela, much like her dearest mother, is far too stubborn for her own good. She refuses to pay Heisenberg the $50 to get out of jail and Alcina simply refuses to bail her out. Petty revenge, but entertaining nonetheless. It's after midnight now and you're finding it difficult not to doze off against the vampire's arm. Heisenberg is awake pacing around the room as he lost interest in the stalemate already. He was nice enough to take his heavy boots off so he wouldn't disturb Sorine and Victoria's slumber. His repetitive pace was starting to lull you to sleep. You allow yourself to close your eyes for a minute, listening to Alcina's breathing and Heisenberg's hushed stomping circling around you.

The fire was reduced to crackling embers and you were left shivering under Heisenberg's coat. Out of desperation, you kiss the top of Alcina's gloved hand. "Nu putem termina în dimineața? Hai să mergem la culcare." You know she loves it when you talk in Romanian to her. Hopefully, it will give you the advantage you need to end this ridiculousness.

"I've got her cornered, y/n. A little while longer and she'll crack."

Daniela only squinted her eyes and hissed.

You were about to give up and let yourself fall asleep on Alcina when Heisenberg came stomping over, pure anger painted on his face, and kicked the coffee table over. Sorine and Victoria were startled awake by the crashing sound and snowfall of cards. It was honestly the most magical thing that happened all night. He shouted something along the lines of "Go to bed!" but you couldn't make it out over Daniela and Alcina's screams. They pay you little mind as they chase Heisenberg out of the room and down the corridor, the sounds of vases and antique decor crashing following them as they go.

Sorine stands over you looking at you through bleary eyes, extending her hand to help you up. "Bed?"

A lion's yawn overcomes you and you smile. "Bed."

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #tall vampire lady #lady dimitrescu #monopoly broke me

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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

Text

Faust x Faith - No Looking Back

Warning: 18+ smut, public sex, violence, blood, arson, implied death, mentions of non-consensual touching (nothing explicit and no r-words used,) mentions of stalking, unconsciousness, anti-religious themes, strong language.

Note: Hey, hey. I’ve wanted to write this for a while, but haven’t had much time. This isn’t based on any requests—just something I feel needs to happen to move the universe along. After this, I’ll be basing future FxF stuff off drabble requests instead of going story-heavy for a bit. Likes, comments and reblogs are suuuper ‘ppreciated!

Summary: - Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration - 3.6K words -

Faust makes good on his word to protect Faith, taking drastic measures to assure her assailant never bothers her again.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

Thin raindrops pattered the man's leather jacket as he walked through the streets with his hood drawn up and his eyes low. For two days, the drizzle persisted and melted the black snowbanks into slush. Though the dismal atmosphere kept most inside, Sven had good reason to travel across town on foot. The promise of a girl's company waited at the end of his route, and he put off his regular nightly routine of masturbating to fetish porn for—what he hoped was—the real thing.

He glanced at his cracked phone screen every few minutes to check in with her, making sure she hadn't changed her mind, that she was serious. From the earnestness of her messages and the speed at which she replied to his questions, he determined she meant what she said about wanting to meet. Finally, his luck was turning. He’d show that miserable bastard Faust who was the better man.

- What abt ur bf? Lol

- What about him? Not here, is he?

- Thought u were a good girl.

- Haha, not really. Are you close?

- Ya. Y r we meeting at this random place?

- I need you to promise you won't tell a soul. If you can prove that to me, maybe we can keep meeting up.

- Lol ok. I PROMISE I won't say a word😉

- Thank you. Hurry, please. It's cold out!

- Be there in 5. I'll let u wear my jacket altho idk might not need it😉

- Hehe omgosh. You're making me blush.

- I'll make u do way more then blush baby. Just wait.

Sven lengthened his strides and turned the corner onto a hill leading toward the industrial area of town. Down the slope, he walked past several warehouses and legions of trucks parked inside barbed-wire fencing. It was a peculiar site to meet up, but his rendezvous insisted on a place nobody would think to look.

Betting his night would take an erotic turn, Sven popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed away the cigarette taste. He was seconds away from the spot she chose to meet, and his chest constricted with excitement. His boots crunched over gravel and garbage as he walked down a narrow alley between two faceless buildings. There was an open lot at the end of the lane, where he assumed she was waiting. As he made his way through the dimly lit alley, he whistled to make his presence known. The shrill tune reverberated off an overflowing dumpster to his left, and as he stepped to clear the reeking trash receptacle, something hard and blunt swung out at eye-level and flattened him to the ground.

Dazed and blinded from the sudden strike, he tried moving his mouth, but only a bubble of blood popped from his lips. A piercing stream of sound filled his ears as the edges of his vision turned dark. A large black figure came into view above, haloed by the soggy grey sky in the deepening veil. The featureless shadow chuckled deeply before a heavy boot's tread put out his lights.

~*~

Several hours passed before Sven's eyelids shuddered. By then, his assailant had had plenty of time to tie him to a wooden chair and organize his instruments of punishment. A headache blistered through the man's skull, throbbing in his eye sockets until he gained enough consciousness to open them. When he saw the person who had knocked him out, his throat closed and the gasp ripping through came out high-pitched.

"Faust... Please... Don't—" Sven hiccoughed. "Don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm SORRY!"

Faust, who had been facing the doorway at the end of a long red runner, turned toward Sven, holding a hammer's handle in one hand while cradling the head in the other. A malicious smirk peeked out from a curtain of black hair. He took a step forward, the clomp of his leather boots echoing through the church. Each step made a menacing sound that bit down on Sven's nerves and rattled his sensitive skull.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I know you hate me, but please, don't hurt me. I swear I'll never talk to her again!"

Faust approached, flashing the obsidian hammerhead. He tossed the tool in his grip and stuck his hand into his pocket, producing several five-inch nails.

"No! God, no, please! Faust! Don't do this!"

The black-haired giant stopped to admire the curve of the hammer’s prongs. Sven looked around the empty church and saw a jerrycan taking up space in a nearby pew. He immediately started struggling against the jute rope binding his wrists and ankles to the chair as Faust drew nearer, smile uncoiling.

"I already gave you the chance to never talk to her again. Remember?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry means fuck all to me. You should know that. The only reason you left the campsite with your dick intact is because of the witnesses," Faust said, then spun around with his arms out, showcasing their solitude. "Now, it's just you and me."

"Please don't," Sven muttered through swollen lips. "Fuck, I'll do anything!"

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing a sorry sack of human waste can provide this world to make me change my mind."

"SHE LIED!"

Faust jingled the nails in his jacket, reminding Sven who held the weapon.

"Whatever she told you... It's not true! I was at the party, but I didn't do anything to her!" Sven's voice cracked.

"Oh... So you didn't follow her into my bedroom?"

"No! I talked to her for a minute, and that's all. That's all, I swear, Faust. Don't kill me."

The stomp of boots neared the altar where Sven struggled in the chair. He twisted to loosen the rope and slipped one hand out. Faust grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the arm of the chair, readying a nail between his lips as he gripped the hammer. Sven let out a scream, stifled instantly by the hammerhead. Faust wedged the metal between his teeth and hissed.

"Shut the fuck up, or I'll use this to smash your teeth out like a goddamn window. Understand me?"

Sven nodded and quaked as Faust placed the tip of the nail against the soft, flat part of his forearm.

"Stay still. If I fuck up and hit the Radial or Ulnar artery... You could bleed out before I'm done. Gotta get it right between the bones." Faust slapped the pale skin to reveal blue veins. He pressed the nail’s tip in place and rose the hammer above his head, bringing it down and stopping short of the head as Sven shrieked.

Faust cackled. "Jesus Christ, dude. Did you really think I was gonna nail you to a chair?"

Sven groaned, relieved and moist with cold sweat. "Faust, I'm serious. Please, man. You gotta believe me."

His dark laughter continued, bouncing off the high ceilings, the wooden pews and polished floors. As Sven let out his own nervous chuckle, Faust brought the hammer down in one swift pull, then slapped his hand over Sven's gaping mouth to stifle the screams. Howling, Sven rattled his head back and forth as a searing bolt of pain tore through his right arm, crackling in his shoulder where it burned and burned.

Faust tore his phone out of his back pocket and brought up a video, slamming the screen into Sven's face. The video of him grabbing Faith in his room while he was states away watching the live feed from the camera he'd set up on the desk.

"I knew these little cameras would come in handy. See? I know what you did, you stupid fuck. And you know what else? I would have just beat the shit out of you had I not stopped by your place before our little meeting."

Sven whined, tears pouring from his eyes in steady streams.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I went into your room... Saw some interesting things on your computer. At first, I thought it was just standard fucking creep shit. Snuff porn, torture... Teen girls. None of that surprised me... Until I dug around and found your little stalker file buried in your folders. You didn't even encrypt it. How fucking stupid are you?"

"I'm sorry," Sven shook.

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"I'm sorry for touching her. I should have left her alone."

"What'd you think was gonna happen? That she wouldn't tell me? Or that I wouldn't believe her? And now I know you've been following Faith around, taking pictures of her, you fucking predator. And what about those other women, huh? You sorry about them, too?"

"Yes! I'm sorry. I know I have problems! I'm trying to get help. Please, Faust. If you let me go, I promise I'll do it. I'll get better. I haven’t hurt anyone!"

Faust shook his head slowly, grunting in refusal. "No. I meant what I said when I told you I'd crucify you if you went near Faith again. I'm doing the world a favour."

Sven hung his head and bled from the grievous wound pinning him to the chair, shuddering weakly from his injuries. Faust would never relent. He'd witnessed the drummer's cold disdain, the malignant hatred living inside that made him turn to the dark with open arms. Faust wasn't an actor. He pledged himself to the darkness with unyielding conviction, never one to take such things lightly. This realization depleted Sven's will to reason with the man.

Faust gripped another thick nail and drove it through Sven's left arm, smiling as blood dripped from the wood onto the church altar. The violent yelps filled Faust with morbid delight as he pressed the bloodied hammer under his victim's chin and raised his face.

"You're gonna die tonight, Sven."

"What makes you better than me? You'll be a murderer," Sven stuttered. "You hurt people, too."

"You and I are not the same. Don't ever compare yourself to me. You're a coward, and I warned you. Tread on what's mine, and I'll destroy you. That's what I said."

"All this over a girl? Are you fucking crazy!?"

Faust stooped to one knee, looking up at Sven as though the insult had cut him. Faust's brows arched, bottom lip jutting outward as he studied Sven, who closed his eyes. Then, Faust rose to his feet, leather stretching from the motion. Faust tapped his chin, smiled, and leaned over to whisper, "yes... Totally fucking crazy."

With a powerful kick to the chest, Faust sent the chair and Sven toppling backward. He then unzipped his pants, pulled out his manhood and giggled as he emptied his bladder on the weeping man. While Sven cried and moaned, Faust closed his zipper, whistling merrily. He left Sven on his back and snatched the jerrycan from the pew, taking slow, calculated steps while twisting off the cap and dousing the altar in gasoline.

As the gas trickled, Sven's desperation mounted. He could not flail, so he screamed. Faust gently reminded him what he'd do to Sven's teeth if he carried on shouting. The pinned man blubbered and begged, but Faust ignored his pleas. Inside his head, all Faust heard was the sound of flames rushing into a circle around Sven, crackling over the carpet and up the old church's wooden beams. By the time the roof caught fire, Faust had planned on being long gone.

"Please, Faust... You'll regret this! I know you're a serious person, but this is too far. You won't be able to live with yourself!"

"Wrong. I couldn't live with myself knowing I let a vulture like you walk this planet freely." Faust poured a trail down the floor runner, far away from the altar. He tossed the can aside and looked up at the Catholic saints' stained-glass portrayals and Jesus at the center of it all, staring down with sad eyes. Faust took a book of matches from his pocket and ripped one from the bunch, running its tip across the ignitor strip until a small flame burst to life. Faust flicked the match to the ground without a second thought, and the flame ate up the gasoline trail swiftly. The church was illuminated, and the colourful glass windows came to life. Faust raised his eyes to the forlorn Jesus and leered while the fire spread.

He did not stay to admire his work or revel in the cries of a man burning alive. Faust fled before the fire consumed the church, not once looking back or wondering if his victim had somehow escaped. He trudged through puddles of slush, hair swinging in the wind, white shadows of breath leaving his mouth.

It was time to get back to finish the tour. But he had one more stop to make.

~*~

Faith left the mall after helping close the book store. She received small smiles and nods from the mall staff as they locked doors and unfolded security gates. Some of the people she had spoken to before, and some she had only seen in passing. Though she returned their pleasantries, inside Faith was fretting. She tried not to worry about her boyfriend or ask where he was under strict orders to go about her day as usual.

She stepped into the evening air as the sun sank, taking the blue from the sky along for the descent. Wisps of white cloud stretched across the pink and violet above. Faith took in a deep breath and walked to the bus stop situated between a movie theatre and a dollar store. She popped her earbuds in and turned on a song that reminded her of Faust; one he wouldn’t like. His music taste had no room for the upbeat indie rock she enjoyed. Still, she smiled when the lyrics reminded her of him.

The scent of cigarette smoke caught her attention, and she looked around, finding no culprit. She wondered where the smell came from if nobody was around but soon forgot when the city bus appeared in the distance. It had to make a long trek around the parking lot before it pulled up at the movie theatre. Faith readied her bus card to scan as another cloud of smoke enveloped her senses.

Faith whirled around, and there he was, all black and leather, white teeth clutching the filter of a cigarette. Faust smiled, his words bolting from his mouth as she clamped her arms around him and crushed her face into his chest. The leather and musk brought tears to her eyes. She ripped out her earbuds and tried not to weep.

He hushed her, lifted her off the ground and retreated into the shadowed alley between the theatre and the store. By the time the bus pulled up, Faust had pressed her against the brick wall behind the building.

"Faust. Oh my gosh, where have you been? I was so worried," Faith gasped.

"Sh, don't ask questions, baby." Faust smothered her mouth, holding her thighs around his waist.

"Mm—I love you. Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re here! I love you so freaking much."

"I know you do," Faust breathed against her lips. "I love you, too, babe."

"Tell me where you've been!"

Faust shook his head and kissed her neck instead. She raked her fingers through his hair, knocking his hood down so she could see him unobstructed.

"Told you... Don't ask... Mmkay?... Stop asking... Just let me... Mm—fuck!"

Faith pulled his pelvis inward with her thighs, rubbing against his crotch and the heavy bullet belt wrapped around his hips. In their cloud of lust, Faust pushed his black jeans down just enough to free his erection.

"Fuck, I love your little skirts. Makes it so easy," Faust murmured.

The thought of Faust showing up disquieted her, but his lips on her skin and his desire thwarted these anxieties for a while. She set aside her questions, happy to have him in her arms again and overcome by arousal. When he stretched her panties aside and pushed into her, they both froze in expressions of excruciating ecstasy. Faust tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and Faith clutched his shoulders, already writhing from the intense fulfillment between her legs.

Just as she thought Faust might drop her, he bent his knees and hoisted her higher up on the wall. In his arms, she weighed close to nothing. She missed feeling tiny against him.

"Miss my cock?" He growled in her ear.

"Yes, baby. Oh my gosh, of course, I missed it. I missed my big man."

"Yeah? Fuck, I miss my little pussy," Faust breathed. "Mm, show me those gorgeous tits."

Faith unbuttoned her work polo and stretched the collar down around her breasts for Faust to bury his face. Though there wasn't an abundance of flesh to lose himself in, Faust shivered from the first taste of her nipples. With muted groans of pleasure, he rammed into her until Faith could no longer contain her cries, unaccustomed to his girth. Faust absorbed her whimpers with his mouth, coaxing her tongue until she only hummed.

He felt ferocious from the last twenty-four hours. If he could make Faith scream without drawing attention, Faust would have slammed her into the wall and fucked her until she shredded her vocal cords. He had to keep a low profile. Even visiting Faith was a considerable risk, but one he relished taking as she clamped her thighs and rutted against him.

He supported her ass in both hands and shifted off the wall to fuck her standing up. While he took her this way, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered, whispering, "yes, fuck my pussy hard, big boy. Oh, I love that big cock inside me."

Faust unhooked and held her out so he could watch her breasts jiggle with every bounce. "You still taking your birth control? I'm gonna fucking bust so hard inside you, baby."

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, do it. Fill my pussy, please. I want your cum."

Her dirty talk and sweet sobs for his cock pushed him over the edge. He cradled her head as he pushed her against the wall and throbbed between her legs until empty. Faust pulled out and immediately turned her around and bent her over to watch globs of fresh cum dripping from her wet slit. He used one finger to push some of it back inside and had her suck off the rest. Afterward, he pulled up his pants and compressed her against the wall, one hand over her mouth while the other worked her clit in gentle circles. Faust didn't stop until she squealed and shuddered against him, muffled in his jacket and writhing from the manual orgasm.

When Faith calmed down, he released her and stepped away, pulling a cigarette from the squished pack in his jacket pocket. The lighter's flame created an orange halo around his face and promptly died. He smoked like nothing had happened while she fixed her skirt, buttoned her polo and zipped up her coat.

Faith smiled up at her lover, the night blotting out most of his features.

"I'm so glad you're home," she said.

"Not for long," Faust exhaled.

Her heart quivered. "Wait, what?"

"I gotta go back."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"What? No! But... You just got back," said Faith.

Faust shrugged, his leather jacket speaking for him. The evening matured, consuming the details of her hurt expression until the streetlamps along the road came to life.

"Why did you come here?"

Faust took one last long haul off his cigarette and flicked it down the alleyway. "Listen to me, Faith... You need to quit asking questions. I'm serious. The more questions you ask, the worse it'll be. And you and I did not see each other tonight. As far as you know, I'm on tour. Understand?"

"Yes," Faith said to appease him.

"I want to stay, trust me. But I can't. You know why. All the answers you want, you already have. Don't keep bugging, don't mention it ever again."

"I want to go with you," she whispered.

"No. You stay. Go to your classes, go to work, go visit your parents. Everything normal. And I don't want you moping around either. You put on that pretty smile, and you pretend for me. I'll call you in a couple of weeks before the last show and arrange a way for you to get there."

"What do you mean you’ll call in couple of weeks?" Faith whined. “What about goodnights?”

"I don't have a phone anymore."

"Why—? Oh, um... Okay. I understand."

Faust gathered the girl up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Good girl. I love you, and I miss you."

"I love you, too."

He tipped her face up and sensed tears forming in her eyes. Faust shook his head. "No crying. We'll see each other very soon. Just a couple more weeks."

"I know," she sighed.

"I love you more than anything, Faith. Now, go catch your bus. Should be here in a few minutes."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm on tour. I'm not even here," he explained.

Faust kissed her again, smoothed his hands over her shoulders and turned her to face the bus stop. He urged her along. "No looking back. Hop on the bus and go do your schoolwork."

"Okay," she said, determined to make him proud. Faith walked out of the shadows and into the lamplight hovering over the depot. Across the lot, the city bus pulled in, and though she longed to turn around to see Faust watching over her, she kept her eyes forward and waited. When the bus pulled up, and the doors drew back, she stepped onto the platform and smiled at the driver as she scanned her pass. Faith took a seat in the back and put in her earbuds. She searched through a list of bands and selected the only one whose logo was illegible. As she pressed play, she listened to the immediate assault of the drums, their constant and violent beat. Faith smiled—warm in her chest and between her legs.

#faust x faith #valter skarsgård smut #valter skarsgård fanfiction #valter skarsgard fanfiction #Valter Skarsgard imagine

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years

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You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 9

As Long as You’re Mine

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.1K

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 @50svibes @cagzzz107 @evelynshelby @piano-isnt-my-forte If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

AO3 link

Chapter 9 let’s go!!!

“Okay, how does this sound?” Juliet asked Ron, who sat on her bed as she put together her story of the trial. He was careful not to recline, lest he disturb her pages of notes carefully organized atop the quilt. “Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Mrs. Fisher was arrested and charged with the murder in September of last year. Her lawyer, Mr. Harvey Cooper, originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher herself admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made.”

“I’d read that,” Ron replied.

Juliet huffed and looked around her room at the Blue Boar. Papers littered the floor, pens were nowhere to be found, and her typewriter was mocking her. Now that the trial was finished - with such a dramatic twist - she was hard at work, trying to ensure she reported it just right. An impossible task, it felt like.

“Okay, but would you read it because I’m your girlfriend or because of the writing?” she asked.

“The writing,” he told her. “It’s simple, it explains everything.”

“It feels a bit long for the lead,” she said. “Perhaps I should put the bit about her arrest in the nut graph.”

“That does feel more like background information,” he agreed.

She pulled a pencil from behind her ear, scratched out the sentence, and began again. “So, it’d go like this - Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Her lawyer - I’m gonna take out his name and have that later - so, Her lawyer originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made. Then I’ll go into when she was arrested, the details of the murder, then the evidence the prosecution had prepared, and finish with her sentencing date. How’s that?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he said.

She chewed her lip. “Should I use the word shocking? I don’t want to tell the readers how to feel.”

“When she confessed, what was the first thing you heard?” he asked.

“Gasps,” she answered.

“There’s your shock,” he said.

Juliet had to concede that point. Ron almost didn’t believe her when she told him the story. The judge had barely gotten the words “How do you plead?” out before Meredith let out a wail like wounded animal and confessed to the whole gruesome thing. She sobbed that she was sorry, but she knew she had to be punished. She wasn’t safe. And truthfully, Juliet felt bad for her. It was truly one of the most pitiful things she’d ever witnessed.

But the one thing Juliet could never forget, the image that would stick with her for all her days, was the look on Peggy Lee’s parents’ faces. The Lees watched, dignified, proud, yet misty eyed as the person who killed their daughter begged for mercy. Their grief was profoundly felt, despite their stately manner. They said nothing. They did nothing. And they spoke to no one upon their exit from the courtroom.

“Jules?”

Ron’s voice brought her back to the present, his hand on her shoulder making her turn to look at him.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Just...it’s so unfair. If anyone had a right to be screaming and crying it was the parents.”

“They must be very English,” he said.

“Oh, they were proper English,” she agreed. “Stiff upper lips and all. The mother did at one point hide her face in the father’s arm, but other than that, they were stoic.”

“Thinking about including that in your story?” he wondered.

“God, no,” she replied. “I’ll mention that they were there and offered no comments, but this isn’t that kind of article.”

“Just the facts, huh?”

“As usual.”

“Juliet.”

“Yeah?”

“The article’s gonna be great,” he said.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because you care this much,” he said. He accentuated the point with a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got a staff meeting. Are you alright here?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for being so patient with me.”

He kissed her again. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you later, Ron,” she returned.

With that, he left. Juliet started trying to condense the lead again, still feeling like it was too long. There had to be a better summary. But it was a lot to try and fit into one sentence, so she resigned herself to making it more than one line. She hadn’t chosen a headline yet, either, but she usually liked to write the article first. That way she could pick out the singular most newsworthy part and headline with that. As she organized further, the phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Juliet, it’s Lottie.”

“Hey, Lottie, how are you?” Juliet asked.

“Fine, same as usual,” Lottie returned. “Otis just rang and told me about the trial. I hope you’re hard at work.”

“Absolutely,” Juliet assured her. “I’ve nearly got the lead down. I’ve just got to get the facts organized. I’m thinking of doing a follow up story about the shortcomings of Operation Pied Piper, since Cooper’s little tidbit did prove to be true.”

Sad as it was, Harvey Cooper was right. There was no process for vetting the families agreeing to take the children. The committee had been in such a hurry to evacuate, they had not even considered that some children could end up in more danger than they were at home in the cities. Juliet found the whole thing fascinating, and it could open up a conversation about war time protocol - be meticulous or swift?

“I think that’ll be fine,” Lottie said. “But have you gotten any war news? I know I wasn’t enthusiastic about it initially, but you’re the only reporter I’ve got with the Airborne.”

Juliet bit her lip. While the prospect of war news had originally driven her to accept the Peggy Lee story, she found herself conflicted about it now. Her relationship with Ron threw a wrench in it.

“I think it’s a conflict of interest for me to cover the Airborne,” she said.

She could practically hear Lottie’s eyes roll. “Oh, come on, Juliet, don’t be absurd.”

“It isn’t right, Lottie!” Juliet insisted. “I’m in an intimate relationship with one of the soldiers, there’s no freeing me from bias there.”

“You could use it to your advantage,” Lottie said. “Obviously, you can’t use him as a source, but couldn’t he lead you to the right person?”

“I can’t ask that of him,” Juliet said. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea?”

It was something Juliet had already put a lot of thought into. As badly as she wanted to cover the war - and it did seem like things were ramping up even more in Aldbourne - she was hesitant. She had actually considered asking Ron for a source and then immediately hated herself for it. She would not use her relationship to get ahead in her job. She couldn’t. It just wasn’t right, simple as that.

“That I’m using him,” Juliet explained. “If I ask him to get me a source, he might worry that it’s the reason I entered the relationship, and that’s not the case.”

Lottie sighed. “So, you just want to give up on covering the war?”

“I didn’t say that,” Juliet returned. “I’d be happy to cover something else once I get back to London, but-”

“Forget it,” Lottie cut across her. “Just focus on the trial for now and then Pied Piper, if that’s what you want.”

“Lottie -”

“Good afternoon, Juliet,” Lottie said harshly, hanging up before Juliet could protest any further.

She sighed, hanging up as well, and sitting back in her chair. She had a feeling the conversation wasn’t quite over, but she’d hear more about it on her next trip home. For now, she wanted to focus on what happened at the trial. The sentencing would be in another few weeks, so she needed to get this done.

***

Ron was right of course. The article was published and the London Pursuit sold the most copies it had in years. It surprised Juliet a little, but perhaps people were tired of war news and what better than a dramatic murder trial for a change of pace? It was morbid, sure, but Juliet knew she’d handled it as well as she could.

Lottie called, absolutely elated by the circulation numbers. And honestly, Juliet was thrilled too. She found Ron later that day and leapt into his arms as a display of her unmitigated excitement. She’d done it, and done it well! It was cause for celebration. So they went to London for the weekend - staying with Nancy of course, since she would have had a fit at missing an opportunity to see Ron - and they went to a nice dinner, champagne and everything. Juliet could hardly believe her luck. Everything was going so perfectly.

And that night, as they lay together in the afterglow, she looked at his face and knew she loved him. The kind of love she read about in books and poetry. The kind that crooners sang about on the radio. She’d found it. It was scary enough to admit to herself, but she determined that she would - one day soon if the opportunity presented itself - admit it to him.

He caught her gazing at him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy you’re mine.”

***

The sentencing hearing was not as interesting as the trial itself, but Juliet was relieved to report that Meredith Fisher was going to prison for life. There would be no chance for parole, either. So justice was served.

However, Juliet couldn’t help but notice the look on Mr. Lee’s face. Mrs. Lee had not come for the sentencing, so it was just father. When the judge announced Meredith’s fate, Mr. Lee only closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He nodded, put a hand over his heart, and inhaled again. A single tear rolled down his cheek. It made Juliet look away so that he could have that moment for himself. To take in whatever feelings came to him. To remember Peggy and take some solace in that her killer was going away.

“I thought I’d be happier,” Juliet told Ron as they prepared for bed that night back at the Blue Boar. “But it still just feels...rotten.”

“Nothing can bring the girl back,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I know,” she replied. “But I just....I suppose you’re right. What else could anyone have hoped for in this situation?”

“Right,” he agreed.

“I’m also grateful we didn’t have to hear that lawyer make that ridiculous argument in a courtroom,” she said. “I don’t think I could bear the looks on the parents’ faces at that.”

“That would have been awful,” he said.

“Even so, it feels rather anticlimactic,” she said. “Especially for the prosecution who spent months putting everything together.”

“They still got the result they wanted,” he pointed out. “So what does it matter?

She shrugged at that. She still felt unsatisfied, as if there was something more to be done. Even though logically, she knew there wasn’t. She would write an update for the paper, and that would really be the end of it. That was when it hit her. What was really upsetting her was that now that this was over, there was no more reason for her to be in Aldbourne. Especially now that she didn’t want to cover the Airborne. It meant that she would go home to London, in turn reducing her time with Ron significantly. And that was a dreadful thought.

***

“What do you mean you aren’t coming back to London?” Lottie cried through the phone. “What about the Pied Piper story?”

“I reckon it can wait,” Juliet said, entirely unconvincing, but she hoped Lottie was buying it. Her reasons for remaining in Aldbourne had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with the man she was in love with. “And maybe with some time, I can find my own sources on war news.”

Lottie remained silent for several minutes. “So, you’ve just changed your mind all of a sudden about covering the Airborne?”

“Not completely,” Juliet lied. “I...I’m just not sure I’m quite finished here. And what if there’s something else about the Peggy Lee story that comes up? I could -”

“Give it a rest, Juliet,” Lottie groaned. “I know you want to stay for your boyfriend.”

“That’s not -”

Lottie cut across her protests. “Please do not insult my intelligence by suggesting otherwise. You want to be near him.”

“You don’t sound quite as sympathetic as I hoped,” Juliet said, giving in.

“You have a life in London, Juliet!” Lottie reminded her harshly. “You have a job to do, your mother is here, and you want to put everything on hold for some man?”

“He’s not just some man!” Juliet argued indignantly. “He’s...different from any man I’ve ever known. And what we have means more to me than anything I’ve ever known.”

She glanced down at the necklace that sparkled against her skin. A constant reminder of how much she meant to him as well.

“Oh, come off of your cloud, will you?” Lottie snapped.

“Lottie,” Juliet said seriously. “The whole time I was with Arthur, did you ever know me to put him before work? Or my family?”

“No, so why is this Ron fellow -”

“Because it is different,” Juliet emphasized. “This is it, Lottie. He’s the one.”

That seemed to stump her. “Has he...proposed?”

“No, he hasn’t,” Juliet said. “I don’t even care if he does.”

Lottie scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t just carry on living in sin.”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Could you please pay attention to what's important here? There’s a man in my life who I genuinely see a happy future with and I just...I want to focus on that. Is that so wrong?”

“I suppose not,” Lottie sighed, and Juliet inwardly celebrated a moment of victory. “But I can’t pay you if you aren’t working. At least be making the proper phone calls to follow this Pied Piper story. Conduct interviews of other families there who have taken in children from the cities. Part of the story is there if you know where to look.”

“No problem,” Juliet said. “You’ll be glad to know I’ve already begun. I’ve got an interview with the Barnes family next week, who are housing a little girl. I’ll ask them about how the process went for them.”

“Perfect,” Lottie said. She paused for a beat. “And, Juliet?”

“Yes?”

“I really am happy for you.”

Juliet smiled softly. “Thank you, Lottie.”

***

Spring fully thawed the winter out by the time April arrived. Aldbourne was rather charming in bloom. But Juliet wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or that she was in love. She found herself humming a lot more than she used to - these days she didn’t even need food to start a merry tune in the back of her throat. She had more energy, despite spending rather long nights in Ron’s arms. And she found her enthusiasm for work - even though her priority shifted - a great deal easier to come by as well.

The interview with the Barnes family went splendidly. They were also housing a couple of lieutenants from the Airborne, though they were not in Ron’s company. Juliet only exchanged brief greetings with them, as they were heading to work just as she was entering the house. She nearly melted at the connection they had formed with the girl - Ann - which was clear in their goodbyes to her for the day. She seemed particularly close to the tall redhead.

Juliet told Ron about it that evening over drinks.

“Yeah, that’s Winters and Welsh,” he told her. “Good officers.”

“Do they spend much time here?” she wondered, indicating the Blue Boar.

“Welsh does, but Winters doesn’t drink,” he said. “He spends most nights there with the family.”

“I can tell,” she said. “I mean, it was seriously precious. She hugged his knees and he patted her on the head and I think I fell a little bit in love with him for a moment.”

He scoffed. “Good luck, I think he has a girlfriend.”

“Has he?” she questioned.

“Yeah, the nurse,” he said. “She works for the regiment.”

“You lot have your own nurse?”

“She’s got some connection to Colonel Sink,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never actually met her.”

“And what about the other chap?” she asked. “Welsh?”

“He’s engaged,” he told her. “Her name’s Kitty.”

“You know that but not the name of the nurse?” she questioned.

“I only know because Harry never shuts up about her,” he said. “The whole regiment knows at this point. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Krauts knew.”

She giggled. “I think that’s sweet.”

“It’s obnoxious.”

“You mean, you don’t brag about me to the whole regiment?” she teased. “Romance is dead.”

“Sorry for your loss,” he retorted as he took a swig of his drink.

“Not as sorry as I am,” she returned. “Now I’ll have to spend God knows how many hours in mourning.”

“At least you look good in black,” he said.

“My saving grace,” she agreed with a smile. She paused for a beat. “Seriously, you don’t talk about me at all?”

“I do if you come up,” he told her.

“And what do you say?” she wondered.

“Whatever’s relevant,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer not to broadcast my personal life,” he said. “All they need to know is that you’re mine.”

She smiled as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That’s true.”

***

April was drawing to a close. Juliet stood in her room, preparing to go and interview another Aldbourne family about their process in fostering a child from London. These interviews were restoring the bit of faith she’d lost in covering Peggy’s story because most of the families were very kind, and doted on the children. They were proud of doing what they could to ensure the future of England. And the children were mostly happy. What happened to Peggy was a tragedy and an outlier.

She was just getting ready to leave when Ron entered her room. A grim shadow of doubt on his features made her smile disappear as fast as it had come. Something was wrong. He definitely had bad news.

“We’re moving out,” he told her.

She had expected this at some point, but she still blinked in surprise. Her shoulders drooped as the reality of it percolated through her.

“Oh,” she said. “Well...when?”

He hesitated. “This is off the record -”

She scowled at him, momentarily offended that he felt the need to clarify.

“Everything between us is protected, Ron,” she said sharply. “You and I are always off the record unless stated otherwise.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly, picking up on her tone. “I know that, I just -”

“When?” she demanded again.

“End of May,” he said. “I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

The if hung in the air, but remained unsaid. This was it. The moment she had been dreading since she met him. Well, maybe not that long, but since they had started getting to know each other there in Aldbourne. The war was taking him from her, like it took everything.

“I see…” she trailed off, her annoyance easing up. That was sooner than she had hoped and she didn’t want to waste any precious time being angry at him. “Um...where - wait, I can’t ask you that.” She bit her lip. “When - oh, no, you’ve just told me, that’s right -”

“Juliet.”

“Yes?”

“Wait for me.”

Once again, Ron failed to disappoint her. Despite all the reassurance, she worried that when they shipped out, he would take the opportunity to break it off with her. Instead, he was asking - in his way - for a commitment from her. She held his gaze for a long moment, waiting for him to say more. But he didn’t.

“You really want to stay together?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said assuredly.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed, and she threw herself into his arms for a kiss.

He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his lips fiery and desperate against hers. As if he were leaving the following morning instead of a couple of weeks. But Juliet wanted the intensity. She wanted to savor every touch, every kiss, every moment she had before he was gone. She also wanted to let him know that she absolutely would wait for him. She would do anything he asked of her. She just wanted him. Forever, if possible. And if the war robbed her of that, she would at least have the memories of kisses like these. Of nights in his arms. Of his unwavering dedication to her.

***

The arrangements were made for Juliet to return to London once Ron and the rest of the Airborne were off. On his final morning in Aldbourne, they of course made love again, only it was the after that they relished even more. Juliet etched into her brain the feeling of his embrace, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his voice. She wished desperately that she could freeze time and hold onto him for just a little longer. She had found something so wonderful and now it was being dragged away from her.

“Jules,” he said, voice low as if there might be someone listening on the other side of the door.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to France,” he said.

She blinked and adjusted her position so she could look him in the face. “France?”

He nodded. “I wanted you to know.”

She couldn’t explain why that felt more intimate than anything they had just done in her bed.

“Why tell me now?” she asked, curious.

He swallowed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but his arm gave her shoulders a squeeze.

“Trust,” he said.

She pressed her lips tenderly to his chest to let him know how much she appreciated his trust. There was no longer a need to specify on or off the record. His statements were privileged. Anything he told her would remain between them.

For a fleeting moment, she considered telling him right then that she loved him. Because if he was going to France, there was a chance he would never come back. And shouldn’t he know just in case? But her heart told her to play it safe. If she didn’t tell him now, perhaps whatever power there was would protect him enough so that she could say it later. If there were still things left to be said, hopefully that would keep him alive.

There were no guarantees, of course. All they had was each other and their promise.

That afternoon, the trucks began rumbling out of Aldbourne. Juliet walked Ron as far as she was allowed. Her chest felt tight as the impending goodbye hung in the air. She hated this. It was too painful. How could it be that the very war that brought them together would also be the reason for their parting? What was fair about that? Nothing, that’s what.

A kiss from Ron drew her out of her thoughts. He held her firmly against him, almost as if he were afraid she would disappear right out of his grasp. When they parted, they were both breathless.

“Be careful,” she said.

His eyes searched hers. “You too.”

Her brain was practically screaming at her to tell him now just what she felt. But she was too afraid. Too afraid it would doom him. Too afraid he wouldn’t say it back. Or even worse, say it only because of the passionate nature of the moment. It had to be when they weren’t so desperate. When they really meant it because whatever was coming was not a threat.

“I’ll write,” she told him.

“I’ll respond when I can,” he returned.

She nodded. Her throat was dry and thick. The lack of tears in her eyes surprised her. How could she not be crying when she could feel her heart breaking so badly? She kissed him again. Just to prolong the last moment where he was only hers.

“Stay safe,” she told him.

He nodded.

With one last kiss, they said goodbye without saying it. Juliet went to the train station and headed home to London. And Ron went to war.

#band of brothers #ron speirs #juliet fletcher #ron speirs x ofc #hbo war #you better you better you bet series #Easy Company #band of brothers fic #hbo war fic

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softtransbf · 3 years

Text

Mister Nice Guy, part 2

part one

Summary: Shit hits the fan, and the rest of the BAU is done with it.

Word Count: 3523

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Warnings: case involving targeting gay people, brief mention of a child abduction case, coming out/anxiety of experiencing transphobia (no actual transphobia though), alcohol, swearing

@aleccolocco (sorry it took so long to finish lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, that doesn't make any sense at all, doctor!" you spat his title. "He's not jealous of these couples, killing what he can't have, or a homophobe, punishing gay people for being happy. He's putting an end to their unhappy relationships. He sees it as mercy." Over the months, your cold war with Reid turned into outright conflict, and tonight, alone in the police station in Oregon, was no exception. Hotchner had tasked the two of you with presenting the preliminary profile the next morning, and it was going as well as conversations ever went.

"We have no evidence that he knows they're unhappy, though. All of his victims are clearly happy in their relationships," Reid challenged.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Please. One look at their social media and it's obvious that the relationships are on the rocks."

"Where do you get that? All I see are typical happy relationships. Selfies, checking into special events together, posts about kind things one does for the other. Nothing indicating a troubled relationship to me."

"The gentlemen doth protest too much. They're painting an overly happy painting on social media, hoping that some of that happiness will actually become real. They're desperate for the relationship to work."

"Let's say you're right. I don't think you are, but let's pretend for the sake of trying to see your logic through. Why? Why would they be so desperate to save a failing relationship?"

"God, straight men just don't fucking get it!" You went to grab a file, missing his small flinch. "You don't understand how limited the dating pool for men who are into men is. Look at the most recent couple in particular. The most lovey-dovey on social media, and got the most brutal deaths."

"Yes, because they were the happiest. My theory holds," Reid interrupted.

"No. Look, this guy put way more out there on social media than his partner, and look at the pictures he posted. Look how forced his smile is, look at the body language. He needs this relationship to work, because dating as a gay man is one thing, dating as a gay trans man is almost impossible. Having to start over and deal with transphobia over and over again is worse than being in a bad relationship. In his eyes, I mean." Shit, the first person I come out to on this team cannot be Spencer fucking Reid. He doesn't deserve the honor.

"That was yesterday. We haven't gotten the autopsy report yet. How could you possibly know that he's trans?"

"Testosterone vials and needles in the bathroom. Neither of them are old enough for a cis man to reasonably have issues that require testosterone injections. It's HRT, hormone replacement therapy."

"Even if you're right, your conclusion still seems like a much bigger jump than mine, that the killer sees the relationships as happy and is lashing out at that, be it from jealousy or homophobia."

"Whatever. You'll see tomorrow, when we talk to the M.E., that he was trans, and that fact backs me up. I am absolutely right about this, and you will eat your words. Then I will present my theory, and you can choke on yours."

"We? You anticipate us spending more time together?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I meant 'we' as in the team, asshat. The world doesn't revolve around you. Mine sure as hell doesn't. I'm gonna go back to the hotel, write my own damn preliminary profile, and try to get some fucking sleep. Clearly we won't agree on this."

"We don't ever agree on anything," he pointed out.

"Not true. We agree that we dislike each other and can't get along. Good night, doctor." You turned and walked away, not giving him a chance to respond.

This man is going to be the death of me, he thought as he watched you walk away.

The autopsy report came in the next day, and you were right. The tech team also found a locked notes app on his phone that catalogued his unhappiness and fear of leaving. You presented your preliminary profile to the team. Reid didn't even argue; he just sat in silence, leaving the room as soon as you were finished. Never one to pass up a chance to gloat for beating him, you offered to get coffee for the team, got everyone's order, and left shortly behind him.

You were expecting to catch up to him, his impossibly long legs be damned. You weren't expecting him to be waiting for you. He pulled you into an empty interrogation room and pushed you up against a wall, his face just inches from yours. It was only a moment before being flustered by the closeness and those goddamn eyes were replaced by anger.

"What the FUCK, Reid?"

"What game are you playing, Y/N? What game are we playing? What's your endgame?" He spoke quickly and softly, but there was an intensity in his voice that had you captivated.

"I'm the one playing games?" You pushed him back, away from you. "You're the one who decided to hate me before we even met. When I transferred, all I wanted was to do a good job and fit in with the team. But quite literally from the minute I walked through the door, you'd decided you hate me. Turnabout is just fair play, gorgeous." Oh, fuck.

"Gorgeous?" You walked past him to the other side of the room, running a hand through your hair and turning your back on him. "Fine. Yeah, okay? I wanted approval from the brilliant and handsome Doctor Spencer Reid. In a way that's respectful of your heterosexuality, of course." You turned around and faced him again. "But that doesn't matter, because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me right off the bat."

"What makes you think I'm straight?" He's fucking with me, now that that cat is out of the bag. Great. Fucking cishet men. Even he's no different. Thank god he still thinks I'm cis.

"Garcia mentioned in her newbie-run-down that you're 'awkward, but in a cute way, especially around women'. Plus, she mentioned that Emily is bi, leaving everyone else implied straight as even the best cishet allies are wont to do. And as we both know, Penelope knows everything.

And before you make the hearsay argument I can see forming in that brilliant head of yours, I've heard and seen too much about your impeccable memory to assume you don't remember when we all went to the bar after my first case. I was unabashedly Queer, friendly flirting with Derek and calling out cishet bullshit. When I did the latter, you literally rolled your eyes and walked away. Which is, funnily enough, some cishet bullshit.

JJ said you were just going through a thing and things would get better, but they just got worse. I'm not going to ask you to spill whatever was going on, because it's not my business, but god damn, dude. Why did you hate me so much so quickly?"

"You asked JJ about me?" He took a few steps towards you, a small smile on his face.

"That's the part you focused on? Jesus fucking Christ. Yes, I asked her about why you decided to hate me before we even met. Whatever. I hope you got whatever you were looking for by pulling me in here. I'm done. Done with this conversation, done with whatever has been going on with you and us since the day I transferred." You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm. It was barely more than a light touch, but you let it stop you.

"Y/N. I can't-" he sighed. "God, you make my head spin. I can't organize my thoughts enough to say what I want to. JJ was right, there was something I had to work through, and I guess you'd made up your mind about me before I figured it out. It isn't an excuse for how I treated you, just an explanation. As for the more recent development of arguments… I guess I read a subtext that wasn't there. I could never dislike you, let alone hate you. I am truly sorry for- for all of it." With three long strides, he was out the door.

Make his head spin? What subtext? Since when is he unable to say what's on his mind? And what was that about not disliking me? All we've done since we met is argue or ignore each other. Why else would he act like that? Why do I even care? Why am I so knotted up about what he's thinking and feeling? Whatever. Fuck him, and not in the fun way. I've gotta go get coffee for the team. As you were getting the coffee, you couldn't get the memory of his face, so close to yours, to stop playing in your head.

The rest of the case was mostly as normal, but there was an energy between you and Spencer that was distant like when you joined the team, but there was something else to it that you couldn't quite put your finger on. It made you a little bit sad, though, for reasons you didn't understand.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you so much. I pulled away from you because it terrified me how much I loved you from the moment you walked through the door that first day. Being around you, even when we were arguing, made me feel alive in a way I never had before. You're all I think about, you're all I could ever want. I love you."

"I… I love you too." You didn't know which one of you moved, maybe you both did, but in an instant, you were kissing Spencer Reid, and you couldn't have been happier.

You woke up with a start, breathing heavily. You looked around; you were in your room, home alone, and it was 3:37 am. What the hell was that?

Four hours later, you trudged through the door of the BAU office, venti red-eye in hand. You made it about ten steps before Derek had his arm around your shoulders.

"Whoa there, hot stuff. Rough night?" You tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't budge, so you just kept walking, making him go with you towards your desk.

"So not your business, Derek. You being open with your personal life doesn't mean we all have to be open like that with ours."

"Personal life, huh? So who is he? More importantly, how was he, and should we expect more mornings like this in the future?" You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away. You'd reached your desk, so you sat on top of it, facing him. As you did, you made eye contact with Spencer, who was well within earshot. His face was unreadable, and you weren't sure why him hearing Morgan tease you like that upset you. It never had before.

"No, Derek. There's no one. Just some nightmares. Nothing major; I'll be fine by tomorrow." You got off your desk, sat in your chair, and logged into your laptop. Derek whistled and walked away without another word, shaking his head.

You tried to focus on the paperwork you needed to get done, but you couldn't stop thinking about that dream. The feeling of his lips on yours… it felt so real.

This is ridiculous. Love? We don't even like each other. Well… there was the stuff he was saying yesterday- 'I could never dislike you, let alone hate you', and some sort of subtext? But not disliking someone is a far cry from love. Plus, he's straight, so this is all absurd. And even if he DID have feelings for me, I sure as hell don't return them. I mean, maybe he's not as awful as I've thought, especially if he wasn't coming from a place of dislike. And he really is very pretty. Those eyes… Wait, what the fuck? This is all fucking ridiculous. I just need to get a full night's sleep tomorrow, and all this weirdness will be gone.

You took a giant gulp of your coffee, shook your head, and ran your fingers through your hair. Fortunately, Hotchner called a team meeting, forcing your attention to other things.

While no case could ever be described as 'normal', this case was pretty cut and dry, once you figured out what you were looking for. No dramatic twist, no tense showdown at his arrest. There weren't many cases like that, but you were very glad that this one was. You never sleep well when on a case, and no matter what you did, you couldn't shake that dream, the butterflies it left in your stomach every time you looked at him, and the strange disappointment when, unlike before that moment in Oregon, he wasn't looking at you.

Two more weeks passed. The energy between you and Spencer, whatever force it was that had drawn you together to argue again and again, was gone. You were polite to each other, and cooperated as necessary, but didn't do more than the bare minimum when it came to interacting with each other. Your interactions were cold and low-spirited. So you were so glad for a fun night out with Penelope, Emily, and JJ.

"So, Y/N, things seem… different… between you and Spencer these days. Did something happen?" Emily's tone made it clear that the three of them had intended to bring this up long before the plan to get drinks was even made. "I appreciate y'all waiting until I had a couple of drinks in me at least before going here. I guess we just got tired of fighting? I don't know. I can't figure out what's going on in that brilliant head of his. I thought I at least knew where I stood with him, even though it was purely adversarial, but I think I was wrong. But then that leaves me with no idea what he thinks of me or why I care so damn much."

"Really? No idea at all?" JJ asked. "I remember walking by a closed door in the police station in Oregon and hearing the word 'gorgeous' being thrown around." "Oh my god. You heard that?" You buried your face in your hands, and they all laughed.

"Yeah, I did, but only that one word. I'd figured you were on the phone with someone, but then you and Spence both started acting sad. I wasn't sure, of course, that you were talking to him until just now."

"Fuck. Okay, yeah. I think he's pretty. But I'm absolutely not alone in that. Derek calls him Pretty Boy, for goodness' sake. Appreciating someone's beauty doesn't have to mean anything more."

"Y/N, really? After everything we've been through together, you're gonna lie to us like this? Whatever happened, you've both been miserable since, and it's throwing the whole team off balance."

"What do you want me to say, Penelope? That I'm in love with him? He's pretentious and a know-it-all and a nerd and funny and kind and gorgeous and oh my God. I think I'm in love with him." The three women clapped and cheered.

"Finally, you get there! Took you long enough." Emily winked. "So, what's the plan now?"

"Keep this shit between us until my feelings go away. Even if he wasn't straight, I wouldn't risk fucking things up by telling him how I felt. As it is, I stand no chance in hell, so I'm just gonna write this one off as another straight guy I've fallen for and try to move on."

"Y/N, if you tell him-" Penelope started.

"No. You, more than anyone, know why I can't even entertain the idea of trying to be with him. I can't set myself up for that kind of pain. Not here, not where things are so good." You looked at all three of them. "I know that your intentions were good, but I just can't do this. I'm sorry." You grabbed your coat and left.

Your interactions with Spencer changed yet again. Now that you knew you loved him, you couldn't help yourself from being warmer towards him. As the weeks passed, you got closer. After three weeks, you considered him to be a good friend, not that that made things any less painful. You were just hoping that Penelope, Emily, and JJ were going to respect your wishes and drop the subject of your feelings for him.

[From: Penelope]: round table room ASAP

Shit. The last time you'd gotten that text from Penelope, the team left on a serial child abduction case 30 minutes later. So, despite it being your day off, you ran out the door and were there with your go bag in 15 minutes.

But no one else was there. No files on the table, nothing to indicate that there was a new case. You pulled out your phone to call Penelope, but then you heard a commotion outside the door- you'd closed it behind you.

"No, Derek, wait, I don't-"

"Can it, Pretty Boy, and thank me later." Derek opened the door, pushed Spencer into the room, winked at you, and shut the door, all in about 3 seconds.

"Spencer. Um, hi. Is the rest of the team not going to join us? Garcia's text seemed pretty urgent." You tucked your phone into your pocket.

"I don't think so, since I just heard Morgan barricade the door." He tried to open the door and failed.

"Oh my god they're Parent Trapping us. I'm gonna kill them."

Spencer tilted his head, confused. "Parent Trapping?"

"Oh my god have you not seen any of the Parent Trap movies? Were you living under a rock in 1998?" "I was seventeen and working on my first doctorate, so pretty much, yeah," he laughed. You couldn't help but laugh, too, as you firmly ignored how his smile made you absolutely melt.

"Fair enough. The '61 one is good too, but the '98 Lindsay Lohan one is Iconic for good reason. Anyway. The point is, they've locked us in here and won't let us out until we have a conversation."

"Just a conversation? Or do they want us to talk about something in particular?" He took a seat at the table.

"I- yeah, they have a particular topic in mind. I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I was tipsy and said things I should have just kept to myself. I thought they'd respected my wishes and left well enough alone, but clearly they didn't. And they won't let us out of here until I tell you-" you hesitated.

"Tell me what?" He leaned forward, and part of you swore you saw hope in his beautiful brown eyes. You looked at the floor, avoiding them.

"Tell you that I… have feelings for you. Romantic, cheesy, butterflies-in-my-stomach feelings. I don't know why they want me to tell you this. We've just gotten to a good place as friends, and you're straight, and-"

Somehow you missed the sound of him getting up and taking the few steps over to you, because you practically jumped out of your skin when his hands were suddenly on your shoulders.

"Y/N. Please, darling, look at me?" Bewildered by the endearment, you did, and his smile was blinding. "I'm not straight. I'm bi, and I think part of me has been in love with you since your first day at the BAU. The thing JJ said I was working through? The potential problems of having feelings for a coworker. For you. As soon as you walked through that door", he pointed and then took both your hands in his, "I loved you. The night at the bar? I was rolling my eyes at myself for how much I wanted to kiss you, and I walked away to stop myself from doing something reckless. I love you, Y/N. Can I do something reckless?"

"I'm trans," you blurted. "I hope that doesn't change anything, but it's something you should know. If knowing that I'm trans changes things, now is the time for you to say something. If it's a problem and it blows up later, it might actually kill me. Because I love you, too. So much. If it doesn't change anything, then please, Spencer, kiss me."

The words were barely out of your mouth before his lips were on yours. You weren't sure how long you were kissing before you were interrupted by cheers from the other side of the door. "Shit, Spencer, they're going to be the worst about this, aren't they?" You were a bit embarrassed by how breathy your voice was, but you were too happy to really care.

"Oh yeah. We're not going to get a moment that's just us in this building ever again. Do you want to get it over with and face them, or would you prefer we stay in this moment a bit longer?"

"What do you think, doctor?" you asked, pulling him in for another kiss.

#spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #otp: pretty boys

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ladyblogger-margie · 3 years

Text

Helping Hands

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller (Triple Frontier) x F!Reader

Summary: F!Reader has a broken arm as she and her fiance Will try to pack up their home in order to move to a new one. Luckily Frankie, Pope, and Benny come over to help, giving Will and F!Reader to have some alone time.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY (oral F!Recieving, fingering,)

Word Count: 1325

Prompt: Moving Day

a/n: Writing and posting every single day really is a challenge for me, but Will Miller helps me stay on schedule.

MY MASTERLIST

You groaned when you tried to fold towels using your broken arm, the pain rushing through your whole side.

Will ran into the room at your pained sound.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asked, rushing to your side.

“It’s just towels, and there’s so much left to do before we move,” you explained, clutching your arm to your stomach.

“You have a broken arm, I don’t expect you to do anything,” Will explained before he gave you a kiss.

“I broke my arm slipping in the driveway, hardly a reason to put our life on hold,” you said, reaching for another towel.

Will snatched the towel before you could and folded it and packed it away as you had planned to.

“I’m not talking about putting our life on hold, we’re going to stay engaged, and we’re going to move tomorrow as planned,” he promised, “But you’re not going to do any of the hard work.”

“So who is going to pick up my slack?” you asked.

Right on cue, Will’s brother Benny crashed through the front door followed by your friends Frankie and Pope. They were carrying beer, empty boxes, and packing tape.

“Where do we start?” Frankie asked, looking around.

You felt a lump rise in your throat. You were always so touched whenever these guys showed up. Their bond with each other was unshakable, and you were always surprised when that bond extended out to include you.

Will turned to you, “You direct, we’ll follow.”

“Wait,” Benny said, “Before we get started there is something we have to do first.”

He pulled out a sharpie from his back pocket, and signed your cast in big, blocky letters. He passed the pen to Frankie who signed it also. His was a little messy but very legible. When it was Pope’s turn, he signed his name like an autograph.

Pope passed the pen to Will who signed it ‘Fiancé’ and gave you a kiss.

“Okay,” Will announced, clapping his hands, “Let’s get to work.”

You set the boys to work organizing and packing the living room. Will’s massive paperback book collecting taking up plenty of space in the boxes.

Will whispered in your ear, “We’ll tackle the bedroom.”

He led you away as Benny set up some music on a portable speaker to keep the pace moving.

In the bedroom he barely waited for the door to click shut before he wrapped you in his arms, mindful of your cast as he kissed you deeply.

You broke the kiss, “Will, we have so much to do.”

“We’ll get it done, I just want you, let me take care of you a little. Consider it a well earned break,” he said, leading you to the edge of the bed.

You didn’t have it in you to resist any further so you kissed him deeply, running your tongue gently across his lower lip.

He opened his mouth against yours, his hot breath mingling with your own as he pushed your tongue with his. His hands travelled to your ass, taking a handful and squeezing.

He guided you to lay back on the bed with your feet still on the floor while being careful of your arm. He pulled your shorts down to your ankles and ran his fingers up your legs softly causing you to shiver under his touch.

You watched him lick his lips at the sight of you and you felt the wetness grow between your legs. He ran his finger over the wet spot of your panties with a barely audible moan.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me and stay nice and quiet?” he asked you, his voice low and husky with need.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Yes what?” he asked with a firm tone.

“Yes, Sir,” you said, your voice so quiet you barely heard yourself.

“Good girl,” he said, his face pressed against your inner thigh. His beard scratched your sensitive skin there.

Then he sucked your clit hard through your panties and you smacked yourself in the face with your cast.

“Ow! Fuck,” you said, unable to help yourself.

Will sprang up and hovered over you, overwhelming concern in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” his voice as concerned as his face betrayed.

You rubbed your nose with your uninjured hand as you said, “I’ll live. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a sound.”

You bit your lip as you looked up at him sheepishly.

He smiled at you, amused and lovingly.

“I’ll forgive you this time, because you’re hurt,” he said, crawling back between your legs.

You smiled smugly at him, watching his tongue trace along the edges of your panties, now completely soaked through.

He pushed your panties to the side and licked a long stipe up your dripping cunt and you threw your head back, biting your lips hard to stay quiet.

He slipped his tongue inside you, rubbing your clit with his nose as he did. As he tongue fucked you, you rocked your hips against his face, feeling the heat grow inside you.

You reached out with the intention of grabbing his hair, a favourite move of yours, but instead you accidentally smack him hard in the head with your heavy cast. This action had you both grunting in pain.

“Oh shit,” you said, mortified and apologetic, “Will, baby, I’m so sorry.”

Will looked up at you, your slick covering his beard, “It’s fine,” and his voice and face was sincere enough you actually believed him, even if you still felt guilty.

“We can give up, I’m a human wrecking ball,” you sighed.

“Sweetheart, I’m not in the habit of leaving you unsatisfied, and I’m not gonna let a little enthusiasm hold me back now if you want me to continue,” he said, gripping the back of your thighs firmly.

“If you’re sure,” you said, smiling down at him again, watching as he slipped not one, but two fingers deep inside you.

You watched as he pumped his fingers deep inside you, swirling them around to hit your G-spot in a steady, breathtaking rhythm.

It took all of your remaining self control to hold still and be quiet as he returned his mouth to your clit, licking and sucking in time with his fingers deep inside of you. He built up your orgasm until your peak came crashing down over you, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as you bit your lip hard. Will lapped up your juices, quietly slurping against your heat.

You caught your breath as Will adjusted your panties back into position. He kissed your inner thighs as he pulled your shorts back up. When your heart stopped pounding in your chest, it fluttered when Will locked his eyes to yours.

“You were such a good girl for me, sweetheart, did you enjoy that?” he asked you.

You nodded and pulled him up to kiss him on his still wet mouth, tasting yourself on his lips. You could feel him smile against you as you held him close to you with your one good arm.

You sighed deep and said, “Maybe we should get back to packing.”

He nodded reluctantly, “Don’t worry, we’ll pick this back up later tonight.”

He helped you stand and you led him back to the main room.

“How are you guys doing out here?” you asked them.

Benny revealed that most of the work out there was done.

“What’s next, boss?” Pope asked.

“Kitchen?” you said and led the way.

You heard Frankie hold Will back and say, “Ironhead, you’ve got a little, um, something in your beard there.”

Then you felt your cheeks warm as Will laughed low and deep like you liked, but you didn’t turn around to watch him wipe his face. You’re sure you’d get your chance later like he promised, and for now, there was still plenty to do as you nursed your broken arm and full heart.

Birthday Challenge Masterlist

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog

#will miller #charlie hunnam #william ironhead miller #will ironhead miller x F!Reader #will miller x f!reader #william miller x f!reader #will miller x reader #triple frontier

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 9*

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

Aw SNAP, an early chapter?! Yes children, I woke up and I just wanted to write. This story really does mean a lot to me, and I have been neglecting it for the last few days. So I decided to give you one today, and one tonight. I just have so much to say, and I wanna get it out there as fast as I think of it! I know y'all want that too.

So I don't know if these actually need warnings, but there is serious discussion about alcohol and addiction. If you're sensitive to that, read with caution. I'm really sensitive to it and I wrote it, but it's more therapeutic to me. I don't know how others feel about it.

Also-- I did my best to fix the continuity issue in the last chapter about the Sonny crying at Y/N's mom's funeral, AND I think I did a good job at fixing the continuity with the fact that I literally started this story with her drinking an appletini. Like a moron.

And if you think my explanation is 'unbelievable', I actually do the same thing so I know it's a thing! Don't @ me.

Also Also-- This chapter is all Y/N and Sonny, some cousin bonding time. I hope y'all appreciate it.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

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

You rode to the train station in silence, but when you got out of the Uber to walk in by yourself, Sonny quickly trailed behind you.

“I’m a big girl Sonny, I don’t need you to hold my hand,” You rolled your eyes.

“I-I know, but it’s an hour until your train leaves, and--” He nervously explained.

“Afraid I’ll go to the bar and just derail my life in twenty minutes?” You crossed your arms.

“...No…” He softly looked at the ground.

“Well, you're right. I'm just gonna throw it all away right now,”

“Y/N don’t do that--”

“I’m not kidding, Sonny!” You looked at him seriously.

“...What?” He was stunned at your admission.

You looked around the train station, people were bustling about running to their trains and finding their people, it was a madhouse. You needed to talk this out seriously; so you pulled him to a waiting area and sat down with him.

“Well as you so nicely pointed out, I am basically on the verge of breaking my sobriety every fucking day. And now I know why you wanted me to avoid Rafael, but I didn’t listen and as much as you didn’t want it to, it already broke me. Last night I broke, and now that-- now that he’s gone, or run away, or whatever-- All I can think about is making this pain go away!” The thoughts that had been running through your head since you left Rafael’s apartment just came spilling out of your mouth.

“Sunshine…” He sighed.

“And you’re right, I don’t have anyone else. I don’t have anyone else to lean on, except for you. And I can’t keep doing that, you’ve done it long enough,” You started to feel tears catch in your throat.

“Wha--but I don’t mind, I--” He protested.

“Really? Because the way you were telling Rafael, it sounded like you were sick of it,” You tried to keep your voice steady.

“I’m not--” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sick of it. It’s just--”

“A lot,” You finished for him.

“Right,” He looked at you sadly. “But-- I don’t understand, then what do you wanna--”

“I need to go away,” You interjected with a very somber look.

“What?” He half laughed. “Go away? What does that even--”

“I need to go...away,” You repeated, not wanting to say the words out loud.

“Like...a facility?” He asked; you nodded. “Y/N I didn’t mean you had to--”

“I know you didn’t mean that Sonny, but I don’t see any other way,” Tears filled your eyes.

“I don’t-- I don’t wanna do this again! I don’t want you to have to take days, weeks off work watching me, moving to Jersey, checking my room and my apartment, you’re too old for that shit now!” You looked up to the sky, willing the tears to stay in your pupils.

“I mean, Y/N come on I’m almost 31, I’m not ancient--”

“But you’re a grown up, with a grown up job and a career, and a life. And I can’t just-- make you put your life on pause because I’m a fuck up,” You barely whispered.

“You’re not a--”

“I am,” You shook your head. “I am, and I accept it. I can’t have-- normal, things. Like friendships or relationships. This absolutely proves it,”

“No, it doesn’t,” Sonny took your hand. “Look I told Barba and now I’m telling you: This...this might be on me,”

“No it’s not,” You took his hand this time. “Don’t do that,”

“No, it really might be,” He insisted. “You’ve...you’ve never just opened up to someone like you did with Barba. Not once. Not with anyone but me,”

“Yeah well clearly that was some kind of fluke,” You rolled your eyes with a tear filled laugh.

“Was it?” Sonny asked you sincerely. “When’s the last time you approached a guy or girl for that matter, sober?”

“I mean, I was sipping an appletini…” You looked at the ground in guilt.

“Y/N…” Sonny rubbed his temples.

“What?” You shrugged. “It’s not like I’m the Hulk, Sonny. I don’t take a sip of alcohol and ‘Hulk Out’. I like to at least attempt to feel like a grown up, so I order ONE drink and nurse it for hours. You know this. It’s just, when I get upset…”

“You lose it,” He finished for you.

“...Yeah,” You looked back at the ground.

“So why don’t you just come stay with me for a few days, until this whole ‘Barba’ thing passes, and you can be...normal, again?” He put a hand on your knee. “You don’t need to…’go away’, like a mental patient,”

“...Because I don’t know if it will pass, Sonny,” You admitted. “I’m not kidding when I say this broke me. It...it broke me. And he wasn’t even my boyfriend! We fucked one time and all of a sudden I was going through his stuff like a crazy girlfriend,”

“...Didn’t need to know that, but alright,” Sonny shuddered at the thought of you in the throes of passion with Rafael.

“Whatever,” You sighed. “The point is, I-- I lost it, with him. That’s never happened, not once. I’ve never…’cared’ about someone like that. I just bang them then leave,”

“Wasted” Sonny added.

“....Well yeah, obviously,” You laughed sadly.

“Which brings me back to my original point,” He replied. “You may have had some liquor in your system, but were you drunk when you talked to Barba?”

“...No,” You shook your head.

“Were you tipsy?”

“....No,"

“Did you get drunk while waiting on me and talking with him and then decide to go back to his place to...do stuff?”

“No!” You hit him softly.

“And last night,” He continued. “Last night when I walked away and left the two of you. Did you run back inside and drink yourself into a stupor because you hurt me?”

“No!!” You shook your head. “No, I-- I might have wanted to, but then Rafael took me inside and he-- well, first of all his friends humiliated me--”

“They what?” Sonny’s fists began to clench.

“Calm down, Son,” You took his hand. “Rafael defended me, he even punched a guy for insulting me!”

“He WHAT?” Sonny gasped. Rafael would never do something like that, not for anyone. He was always so cool, calm and collected, always the epitome of decorum. If he had lost it on someone in public, that really did mean something.

“...So he defended you, then took you home?”

“Well, I---” You looked down in shame. “I asked him to,”

“Ah,” Sonny nodded. “I see,”

“But only because you said you didn’t wanna see me! I...I didn’t think I had anywhere else to go,” You explained.

“But he let you,” He added.

“He wanted me to,” You shrugged. “But Sonny I swear, nothing was supposed to happen. I just wanted to crash on his couch until I could talk to you. But...I don’t know, we-- he washed my clothes, and then we were watching BoJack, and then we were laughing and he was tickling me, and it just-- happened,”

“Organically,” He clarified.

“...Not the way I’d word it but yeah,”

“And you didn’t drink anything?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No!” You cried. “No, and I didn’t want to hurt--”

“Sunshine I promise you, this isn’t about my feelings at all right now,” He assured you. “I’m just pointing out that you have never just...accidentally slept with a guy,”

“Meaning…?” You quirked an eyebrow curiously.

“Meaning your MO is get drunk, get laid, and leave. Correct?”

“...Well when you say it like that…” You shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m not trying to guilt you Sunshine I’m making a point. Now, am I right?”

“....Yes,”

“So you genuinely had feelings for Barba. Real, unaltered feelings,”

“....I guess so,”

“And I’m not blowing smoke up your ass when I say that Barba would never, ever punch a guy for anyone. Especially not someone he worked with, in front of a bunch of colleagues. I mean, his ‘circle’ is probably buzzing right now with talk about how ‘barbaric’ he was, for some girl he just met,” He explained.

“What are you saying, Son?” You studied his face curiously.

“I’m saying like I said before, that this might be my fault, Sunshine,” He sighed, once again running his hands through his hair.

“If I hadn’t been so...against you and Barba, I wouldn’t have spout off my mouth about his--- usual way of dating. Because it sounds like with you, he’s anything but his usual self,” He explained.

“...And then you wouldn’t have gotten upset about it and responded the way you do when you’re upset, and then you wouldn’t have ended up a mess last night, and you two would still be in your happy little bubble of bliss,”

“Sonny,” You sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I think we both know that this...’beast’ inside of me, is always gonna be there,”

“Well…” He murmured.

“You said it yourself! I’m still an addict, I’m still battling it everyday, even though I’ve gotten so much better at it. Even though most days I am perfectly fine; I’m not normal. Normal people don’t end up at the bottom of a bottle of vodka whenever they have a bad day, or stress out,” You cringed at the memory of that constantly happening back in the day.

“Yeah I know…”

“And it’s not fair for me to put that on someone. Especially someone I barely know! Especially someone who is not used to, or even ready for any kind of normal commitment! I mean, honestly I’m glad it happened now, because if we had gotten any deeper and the inevitable happened, the blow out would have been much more...messy,” You looked away in shame, just imagining the chaos your drunken alter ego could cause.

“...How so?”

“Sonny, if I lost it like I did last night after spending one night with Rafael, can you imagine the kind of havoc I’d wreck if we had been dating for a while? If we were married?” You half laughed sadly at the thought. “Cops would be called, I’m sure,”

“Sunshine….” He spoke softly, hating to hear you degrade yourself so much. He'd heard it so much in the past, he knew if you were going into the dark place, the damage was bad.

“Somehow or other, the monster would have shown herself to him. And clearly, whenever it was gonna happen-- he wasn’t going to respond well,” You shook your head with the same sad smile.

“But maybe if you had gotten closer, maybe he would have changed. Maybe he wants to change-- he’s just...freaked out right now,” Sonny pointed out.

“Don’t,” You shook your head while looking at the ground. “Don’t do that,”

“Do what?” He asked you quizzically.

“Give me false hope,” You looked up at him with tears once again welling up in your eyes. “You know that’s the most dangerous thing for someone like me,”

“But that’s just it Sunshine,” He put both hands on either side of your face. “I really don’t think it’s false hope,”

“Yeah well,” You scoffed with a sarcastic laugh. “I won’t hold my breath. And the bottom line is-- if that ever happens, then it will. But I’m here now, and right now all I want is to drink until I forget this weekend ever happened,” You wiped tears from your face. “So I need you to--”

“I’m not sending you away,” He said sternly.

“Sonny!” You stomped your foot. “I’m not kidding! You can’t--”

“Look Y/N,” He started. “You have done so well these past few years, better than I’ve ever seen you. I am so proud of you. You’re in school, you’re thinking about the future, you have dreams. And if you just...abandon that for even a month or two, you’ll have to drop your classes and start over,”

“Yeah but--”

“I know you think that going to rehab is the thing you’re ‘supposed’ to do when shit like this happens, but honestly I think it will only send you three steps back, not forward,” He looked at you with very genuine eyes.

“...Y’know the old ‘monster’ wouldn’t have even told me any of this,” He pointed out. “She would’ve gotten on that train and headed to the liquor store at the Jersey train station,”

“...That is true,” You nodded with a soft smile.

“I think you’re more in control than you think, Sunshine,” He put a thumb on your chin. “...But, maybe to make us both feel better, I’ll put a limit on your card for a bit,”

“...Yeah, probably for the best,” You gave him a small smile. Just then you both heard the speaker announcing your train was boarding.

“Well, I guess I better go,” You stood up with your duffel and gave him a long, hard hug. You really did love him more than anyone in this world, and knowing he wasn’t mad at you and still loved you meant everything to you.

“Alright Sunshine, you call me when you get back to the apartment, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nodded; he gave you another hug, scared to let you go.

He was being supportive and brave on the outside for you, because he really did want you to keep going on the path you were on. But something deep down inside of him was constantly worried about the monster inside you. He wanted to protect you 24/7, but you were right-- he had a life and a career in the city, he had to trust you to be on your own.

“I love you, Y/N. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” You nodded with a bigger smile. “I love you too, Sonny,”

You gave him one last kiss on the cheek before heading to your platform, leaving Sonny alone in the station. He waited until he couldn’t see your figure headed towards the distance before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

“Barba,” He said seriously. “We need to talk,”

#rafael barba #sonny carisi #rafael barba imagine #sonny carisi imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #law and order svu #rafael barba angst #weird secret friends #tw addiction #tw alcoholism

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vs-redemption · 4 years

Note

Aaa im so sorry for bothering you! Can uou do my request from before (homeless kid) but now with hawks, shigaraki, and fatgum please? Im so sorry if its any trouble but your writing isFANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!

A/N: Phew! Sorry for the wait, but I wanted to make sure I gave you something I was proud of. And don’t worry! You aren’t bothering me. I was actually kind of wishing you’d included Hawks in the first request, and Shigaraki was a fun challenge to write! I really hope these meet your expectations.

A Surprise Meeting (Hawks, Fat Gum, and Shigaraki meet their abused child)

Warning:⚠️Mentions of child abuse and homelessness.⚠️

You can read the same scenario but with Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa HERE You can read the same scenario but with Todoroki and Dabi HERE

Hawks

Hawks knew his patience would be put to the test whenever the Hero Commission called him in for a face-to-face meeting. He’d opened up his agency as far away from the head office as possible for the sole purpose of avoiding their overbearing attempts to control not only his career, but his personal life as well. He appreciated everything the Commission had done for him to an extent. After all, he never would’ve ended up as such a successful hero if they hadn’t taken him in as a child and given him intensive training to perfect his quirk. There were a lot of things he’d hated about living under the Commission’s thumb though. Because of that, he really hated whenever he had to go back there.

“Thanks for coming today, Hawks.” The president of the organization herself had come to greet him. He gave her a roguish grin despite the fact he wanted to role his eyes. He hated when they thanked him for obeying when it wasn’t like he had a choice anyway. “There’s someone we’d like you to meet.”

Hawks followed the president as she led him deeper into the facility than he’d been in a long time. His wings twitched behind him as unpleasant memories began to surface in his mind. He felt confused and uncomfortable when he was brought into a small observation room that had a view of one of the commission’s training spaces behind a large two way mirror. “Are you going to explain what this is all about?” Hawks jokes to try and ease his own tension, “Or are you keeping me in suspense on purpose?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” The president’s face remains stoic as she turns away and speaks into an intercom. “Bring her in.” Hawks looks into the training room on the other side of the glass and sees a random agent of the commission step through the door with a tiny little girl following closely behind. She looked to be around two years old. Hawks’ jaw drops in disbelief when he sees the two fluffy wings sprouting from the child’s back. He’d seen other people with wing quirks before, but this kid’s resemblance to him was uncanny. Her hair was darker than his, but the black markings around her golden eyes had his mind reeling.

“Of course we did a DNA test,” the president says flatly. “She’s definitely your child.”

Hawks steps away from the glass and runs a hand over his face, letting the information sink in. The commission had so much influence over his personal life that he’d mostly stayed away from any sort of relationship, knowing that there’d be too much drama over maintaining his image and reputation for him to actually enjoy having that kind of connection with someone. Admittedly, he had bent his own rules and caved into pressure once or twice after graduating the commission’s program. He wasn’t proud of it, but he’d mostly done it out of spite for all the years he’d spent being micromanaged.

“A woman dropped her off a few days ago,” the president’s voice turns sharp. “How could you let this happen?” Hawks wasn’t interested in a lecture at the moment, so he ignores the question in favor of moving closer to the glass and looking at his daughter more intently. She was cleaned up and wearing a standard uniform provided by the commission, but Hawks didn’t miss the painful looking scratches on her face or the raggedy, burned up ends of the feathers on her wings.

“What happened to her?” he asks, surprising even himself at the low tone of his voice.

“The mother admitted to doing most of it,” the president rattles off the information in a clinically detached way. “They’d also been living out on the street for a while as well, so who knows what might’ve happened.” The news was heartbreaking for Hawks. He hadn’t lived in ideal circumstances at that age either, and he wouldn’t wish that sort of life on anyone.

“Your wings didn’t start to grow back until you were a bit older, so we’re assuming it’ll be the same for her,” the president seemed oblivious to the emotional state of the hero standing next to her. “We’ve already started her on a special diet though, and she’ll begin her training regimen at the beginning of next week.”

Hawks wasn’t sure if it was some bird trait related to his quirk or just the knowledge that he was the kid’s father, but some sort of instinct kicked in with such intensity that it washed away any feelings of duty or habits of obedience that had been programmed into his brain.

“You’re not keeping her,” he says fiercely. The president just raises her eyebrows at him.

“The mother left her in our custody,” she states. “You should be thankful that we’re willing to overlook your mistake. With any luck, we’ll be able to groom this girl into a hero just as spectacular as you.”

“If you don’t release her to me, it’ll be you that’s made a mistake,” there was a promise of something terrifying in Hawks’ tone that seemed to finally shake the president’s resolve.

“You really think you’ll be able to be a decent parent?” she asks coldly.

“I won’t let her be robbed of a childhood like I was,” Hawks declares firmly. “If she wants to be a hero, she can make that decision when she’s old enough to do so.” Thankfully, the president decided not to argue any more. Hawks turns back to the window and allows himself to relax a bit. Looking over his daughter again, his heart filled with a love so strong it threatened to overwhelm him. He made a vow to love and protect his little girl so that she had the safest and happiest life possible.

Fat Gum

There was nothing quite like the feeling of walking around the lively streets of Osaka at night. People of all walks of life tended to come out around this time, and the delicious smell of cooking food filled the air. Taishiro Toyomitsu, better known as Fat Gum, could think of no better city to do his hero patrols. The crime rate was a little higher than in other places, but it was worth it for him to have easy access to the yakitori, yakisoba, and okonomiyaki stands that kept his quirk plenty fueled up.

Tonight he was in high spirits as he walked down one of the more famous shopping streets, stuffing his face with incredible snacks, and having friendly encounters with both locals and tourists alike. A couple of young musicians were playing on one of the street corners, so he tossed a few coins into their cup. Everything seemed to be fine basically, other than a few people who’d stumbled out of bars and needed help getting to a taxi. It was one of his more tame patrols, but he wasn’t going to complain about that.

He noticed that he was being followed near the end of the night, when most of the shops and restaurants were starting to close up. The busy streets began to empty as people hurried to catch the last few trains, and only when there were just a handful of people left out sweeping the sidewalks did the figure emerge from the shadows. Fat Gum was surprised to find that his pursuer was a young boy around nine years old with strange, aquamarine colored hair.

“Hey there, kiddo!” he kept a huge grin on his face but still kept his guard up just in case. “Can I help you with anything?” The kid looked to be in pretty rough shape as he gazed up at the BMI hero who towered over him. Fat Gum didn’t like the poor condition of the boy’s clothes, or that he appeared extremely dirty. The most concerning thing of all was how emaciated the boy looked. He could practically see the bones in his arms, and his cheeks were sunken with hunger. He wondered when the poor thing had last eaten a proper meal.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” the kid finally speaks up after a moment. Fat Gum finally noticed that the boy had started shaking like a leaf. He wasn’t sure if the boy was just cold, or if he was actually afraid. He watched as the kid reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tattered old photograph. “By any chance, do you know this woman?” The boy flinches away while holding out the paper for Fat Gum to see.

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, buddy!” the large hero says while taking the photo as non-aggressively as possible. “Let’s just take a quick look at this and… oh.” He recognized the woman staring back at him from the picture. He hadn’t seen her in almost a decade. He’d lost contact with her once she’d broken his heart after a short romantic affair. “Uh,” Fat Gum felt a little awkward, “Is this your mom?” The boy nods his head while keeping his eyes closed. “Then,” Fat Gum chuckles nervously, “am I your dad?”

“Yeah,” the boy mumbles before letting a few tears slip out, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” the need to be a hero for this boy was stronger than his discomfort with the situation. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. How could I have not known about this until now?”

“Mom wouldn’t let me tell you,” his voice cracks with emotion. “She said you’d be mad.”

“Well, that’s just silly!” Fat Gum shakes his head in disbelief. “Where is your ma’ now?” The boy finally glances up and meets his eyes. They were the same shape and color as his own.

“She got arrested yesterday,” he admits, sounding embarrassed. “Another hero caught her pickpocketing. She sometimes asked me to help her, but I haven’t been feeling well lately. We don’t have a place to stay either, so we had to find a way to get food.”

Fat Gum hated the thought of that woman not only keeping the existence of his son a secret, but also forcing a young boy to break the law. Perhaps that was why the boy looked so scared. He probably thought he was going to get in trouble too. Fat Gum had other ideas though.

“I’m really sorry that happened to your mom,” he says sincerely, “but she will have to pay for the crimes she committed.”

“I know,” the boy looks back down at his feet.

“But there’s no reason you have to follow in her footsteps,” Fat Gum says cheerfully. “I’m more than willing to take you under my wing. That is, if you don’t mind.” The boy finally allows a tentative smile to grow on his face. He clearly liked the idea.

“Well then, first I think we should get you to a doctor,” Fat Gum reaches down and gently pats the boy’s head. This time, he doesn’t flinch away. “And after that, I’ll make sure you get a decent hot meal! No kid of mine is going to look like skin and bones.” The boy eagerly agrees and allows Fat Gum to scoop him up into his arms. He had a feeling it was going to be a dream come true to finally have the fun and affectionate father he’d always imagined.

Shigaraki

People were always going on and on about how hard public servants worked and how important their jobs were. Heroes, police officers, firefighters, health workers… sure, they all had hefty responsibilities, but nobody ever considered the absolute nightmare it was being the leader of the League of Villains. Shigaraki wanted to see someone else try to manage the group of ragtag, lawless, misfits that he’d been left in charge of. It’d be one thing if they were all there to support him and his diabolical plans, but unfortunately a good number of his followers were just hanging around in the hopes of an opportunity to continue the work of the Hero Killer, Stain.

Stain had always been a sore spot with Shigaraki, ever sense the man had shown up at his hideout just to criticize him for not having a clear goal. He’d never admit it out loud, but the jerk might have had a point. At first, he’d just wanted to kill All Might, but that was only because it was what his master, All For One, had wanted. After All For One had been arrested, Shigaraki was sort of left without a guiding hand or a clear path to follow. He still wanted to kill All Might. And he wanted that annoying Midoriya kid dead too. When he really thought about it, Shigaraki just kind of wanted everyone to be dead.

The door to the villain’s hideout clicked open suddenly, making everyone in the bar turn to see who’d arrived. It was just Dabi, trailing in the scent of burnt corpses. Shigaraki clenched his teeth and sighs in annoyance. That ugly fire user was supposed to be out recruiting people to the League, but all he ever did was incinerate any potential members he came across.

“I didn’t know we were running a daycare service now,” Dabi comments lazily while grabbing a stool at the bar and signaling Kurogiri for a drink.

“What are you talking about?” Shigaraki felt the prickling urge to scratch at the flaking skin on his neck, but managed to control himself. Dabi was always trying to get a rise out of him and the worst thing he could do was take the bait.

“Some crusty looking rugrat is hanging around outside,” Dabi shrugs. “You might want to do something about that.” Shigaraki wasn’t sure if the annoying man was messing with him or not, but he sent Twice to check it out just in case. The last thing they needed was a lost child attracting the attention of any heroes. A few minutes later, Twice returned with what looked like a four year old boy trying to claw his way out of his captor’s arms.

“Put me down!” The kid protests before opening his mouth and biting down on Twice’s fingers. The villain drops the kid who lands with a thud on the floor.

“There really was a kid out there!” Twice gestures to the boy dramatically, “He’s completely rabid though! It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“You picked the wrong place to run away to,” Shigaraki walks up to the boy feeling irritated. “You should’ve stayed with your mommy and daddy.” The boy glares up at him from the ground and Shigaraki gets a big shock. Aside from the hair color, it was like looking into a mirror. The boy had the same piercing red eyes as him. The skin around those familiar eyes was dry and irritated, just like his own too.

“You ARE my daddy!” The kid blurts out and the atmosphere in the bar gets extremely uncomfortable. Of course, the silence is broken by a snort from Dabi.

“Oh man,” he shakes his head. “I can’t believe someone actually had the stomach to sleep with you.”

“Shut up, Dabi!” Shigaraki tries to swallow down the panic and horror bubbling up inside him, but the persistent itch on his neck seemed to double in intensity over this unexpected news. He gives in, reaching up to scratch at the damaged pale skin below his ear. It had been All For One’s idea for him to have an ‘experience’ with a lady. He’d said it was an important part of becoming an adult, but now Shigaraki could only see it as a huge mistake. A voice drifted through his mind, telling him that it would only take five fingers to make this whole problem go away.

“Where’s your mommy?” Toga skips over happily, unable to resist inserting herself into the situation.

“I don’t know,” the boy was putting on a brave face, but it was clear that he was afraid. “We had to leave our house and sleep outside. Mommy said it was because my dad was a villain, but then she was gone when I woke up.”

The story struck a chord in Shigaraki. He’d been left abandoned without a home as well at a very young age. The last thing he wanted to do was sympathize with the brat though. What he wanted was for the kid to disappear. The idea of a guy like him being a parent was laughable. He was barely an adult himself, and he had enough on his plate right now. A small child was only going to be a burden. His fingers twitched, ready to activate his quick as he continues to look down at the helpless boy at his feet. The conflicting feelings inside him were making the itching flare up terribly. Every inch of skin on Shigaraki’s body felt like it was on fire now.

“You’re just like everyone else, aren’t you?” the boy suddenly slumps forward, the fight going out of him. “You hate me.”

A weird resolve washes over Shigaraki at those words. No. He wasn’t like everyone else. If there was one thing all the member of the League of Villains had in common, it was that they’d all been rejected by friends, family, and even heroes for traits they had little or no control over. This boy was just as much a victim of this crooked society as the rest of them.

“You’re forbidden from ever leaving this building,” Shigaraki states flatly. “And don’t expect anyone here to coddle you or clean up after you. The moment you become a nuisance you’re back out on the street.” The boy nods in understanding while finally pushing himself off the ground. Shigaraki wasn’t sure what he’d just signed up for. The only thing he knew for sure was that his job had just gotten a lot more complicated.

#Hawks #Keigo Takami #Fat Gum #tomura shigaraki #Taishiro Toyomitsu #mha imagines #bnha imagines #Cindy's Writing #bnha #mha

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bebepac · 3 years

Text

Six Sentence Sunday 04.25.21

Original Post: 4/25/21 at 12:54PM EST

I’ve been a little all over the place this week I know with me being more missing in action! I’ve hit a really busy spell again at work, technically it’s never “not busy,” and I’m also looking for a new job.

Good news I had my interview on Friday and I think it went really well. There are three positions for the department I want to go into as they have been given more clinical trials to work on.

I had my interviewer laughing and I think I asked very good questions about the organization. My questions when I was asked were:

* How does your organization ensure a healthy work/life balance for your employees?

* I know the job is currently remote right now, but when it’s not i’ll be going into the office three days a week and home two. How do you all strive to have a teamwork atmosphere in the office with staff?

* Is there room for advancement?

I’m hoping I did as well as I think I did.

As a reminder if you missed tags, and it seems like the fandom has been relatively collectively busy in their own lives across the board, here’s what I’ve posted in the past 7-10 days.

And Then... There Were Two (The Meet Chapter 1 : A Greek Meat Prequel)

Pop’s 🌎 World (Mia’s World Special: Pops POV)

What are you working on @dcbbw @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @sirbeepsalot

@sfb123 @ao719 @txemrn @darley1101 @jessiembruno and anyone else! Feel free to take me in your wips and six sentences sundays!

This is what I have going on:

Derby Girl

The Life of Riley Book 2: Chapter 4

The Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Status: Still in the writing process

Riley glared at him. “I’m not an animal Duke Ramsford.”

“That remains to be seen. If the Cordonian people do not fall in love with you, even though he could be Lady Riley he will not choose you. Love is not the only thing that matters here. It’s honestly not even a factor here. Prince Liam has a duty to his people to pick the most suitable woman to be at his side. So you, dear idealistic girl must learn to give the people what they want. The derby today will give you the opportunity to meet the press for the first time. This will set the tone of how the people will begin to approve of you or disapprove of you. The Queen is also important here as well.”

“I think the Queen might potentially be on my side.”

Bertrand laughed. “You don’t know The Queen.”

“I met with her and she wasn’t rude to me. She was actually helpful when you think about it. She told me to get a feel for the audience that will be watching me and dress for them. I think that’s helpful advice.”

“You’re right that is helpful advice.”

“You need to get ready. Head to the boutique and make sure you pick something suitable.”

Riley almost didn’t want to go to the boutique after what happened to her the last time.

However this time when she walked in she was greeted by a kind middle-aged woman with a genuinely welcoming smile.

“And you must be Lady Riley.”

“I am.” Riley still had her guard up her voice and body language tight and protecting herself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh!”

“I know that the last time you were here, you didn’t have the greatest experience with the staff, and I apologize for that, but if there is anything you need I will be more than willing to assist.”

“Thank you so very much.”

Riley smiled.

“It’s no wonder….”

“It’s no wonder what?”

“Why he’s so enchanted with you. I was sworn to secrecy, but he couldn’t hide how he feels about you. Let me know if you need any help picking out something for him. You’re living your very own Cinderella story right now.”

The Double Date Mistake

The Meet: Chapter 2

The Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x OC

Status: Still in the writing process

“And done. He has your number now Jili. Now fly my little birdies fly.”

She thought he would text right away but he didn’t. The whole way to Bebe’s apartment the twenty minute drive Jili’s phone was silent.

Bebe looked at Jili as she glanced at her phone. What the actual hell?

She texted Jilian.

“Bebe why the hell are you texting me? I’m sitting right next to you?”

“I was just making sure your phone was on.”

“I mean he’s still working Bebe. He can’t just drop everything and just start texting away.”

“The hell he can’t. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you bruh?” Bebe grumbled as she angrily typed on her phone.

“Wing Woman are you trying to crash this plane?”

“The mother hasn’t even taken off yet with you two trying to pilot it. I’m gonna need you to get your life together Jili.”

The driver pulled to a stop. “Damn I really wanted to see how this turned out.”

Bebe got out of the car in a huff.

“I’ll let you know.” Jili called out the window to her.

Ri-Liamo de Bergerac

Fast Forward Special: A birthday Fic:

The Book: TRH and Beyond

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Status: Still in the writing process

* not complaining here: but you guys love some fast forward! this would be the second time I’ve asked for a specific series pairing on a birthday fic and fast forward is what is mentioned. I miss it too. *

Riley raised her eyebrow at Maxwell. She saw him pacing nervously as he kept glancing in Taylor's direction. Taylor was completely oblivious as she had her nose buried in a book she'd gotten from the estate library.

Finally Maxwell had psyched himself up. He walked over to Taylor sitting in the lawn chair next to her.

"Hey Softie."

Taylor put down her book, as did Ellie as she was sharing the oversized lounge chair in the sun with Taylor. Both lifted their sunglasses to their hair.

"Lord Playlist?"

"So I was wondering if you want to have dinner tonight."

"Silly Uncle Maxwell, we eat dinner every night." Ellie confirmed matter of factly.

"What Riley Jr. said." Both Taylor and Ellie picked up their books again, sliding their glasses back to cover their eyes.

Riley laughed to herself. Oh my God Taylor she thought. She is absolutely adorably clueless. Liam laughed softly. He gently rubbed Riley's stomach.

"Aren't you glad we're married? We don't have to do that."

"You were never like that."

Liam blushed. "I felt like that when I talked to you the first time. I don't even remember what I said on the street to you. I was so dumbfounded by your beauty."

"You don't remember me being so awkward?"

Liam shook his head. "You… were perfect, is all I remember, My Love."

A light blush hit Max's cheeks.

"What I meant Softie, was you and me alone, away from the estate."

Taylor slowly lowered the book again.

"So like a date?"

"I mean date is a strong word, but it could be an accurate one. Two people dressed nicely eating food together at the same table. I mean I'm not opposed to the idea if you are."

Tagging the comments!

#six sentence sunday #cfwc sunday six #liam x riley #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trh fanfic #trh fandom #play choices #choices fic writers creations #fast forward #the meet #the life of riley #riley goes to cordonia

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jjk-anime-horray · 3 years

Text

A Call in the Night

Dazai Osamu x reader x Oda Sakunosuke

Series Summary: While Dazai finally gets over the death of his friend and moves on with his life, he has to watch him unnaturally return into the world, and now he has to watch him turn twisted and into everything he hated in a way.

Chapter Summary: The Armed Detective Agency gets a call about an warehouse incident that happened in the middle of the night, and send two detectives to respond to it.

Notice: This fic series is going to have some dark themes in it so be warned, and in this AU Dazai and the reader are members of the armed detective agency, and this is a spiritual successor to “Late Night Tickets, and Meeting Him.” So I recommend reading that first even though you don’t need to. This is going to be a series!

Trigger Warnings: Blood, mentions of extreme violence, and description of illegal activities.

Getting a call about a mandatory and emergency investigation in the middle of the night, to be specific 2:32am, was something no one at the Armed Detective Agency wanted to do. So what's the most logical solution? Draw straws and the two people who draw the shortest are forced to go.

Unfortunately for you, you were one of the two unfortunate souls that drew a short straw. At least the other person who drew the short straw was Dazai Osamu, your coworker but most importantly the first friend you made in this city, so maybe you would be able to get a kick out of the bad situation at hand.

But when the two of you emerged from an alley to meet the crime scene at hand, that would by no means be the case because by the sight of the horror that layed out infront of you two it was enough for the both of you want to hurl.

Crime scene would describe the atrocity in front of as much as the phrases bloodbath and massacre would. No wonder this was an emergency for the ADA there were probably more than 30 people dead killed in various atypical ways.

First walking into the warehouse the most out of the ordinary sight would be a round wooden table with a duffle bag on it, but once someone took a closer look the rest of the ware house was completely empty other than the congealing crimson liquid that was pooling everywhere.

The five chairs around rickety table were matched with four bodies of executives of some sort laid face down on the table or dangling of the chairs.

But the most appalling sight was what was inside the duffle-bag, you were wishing it would be something tame like left behind money, however, much to your displeasure, they where severed off human heads. That by the looks of it were cut off with some sort of serrated knife my the edge markings.

"What are you thinking (Y/N)?" Were the words that Dazai spoke to snap you out of your spiraling train of thought. "I sure as hell am thinking this isn't the way I would have wanted to go."

"I'll have to agree with you on that one, this shit is something right out of a cheesy crime or horror movie.The only thing I can think of is the heads were a message of some kind to the people who were sitting at the table, and either the person at the empty seat with accomplices who killed everyone or are the only survivor, but it could be either. Were you able to identify anyone bodies or do you recognize anyone?"

"I don't recognize anyone, and most of the bodies are too mangled to be identified, but everyone at the table is wearing a customized Rolex, so I suspect that they were all executives of a organization of some kind, probably an illegal on based on all the gun men that were probably guarding the meeting before they got taken out."

"The only lead we have is the Rolex I guess, so Daz, will you take one for reference, we can visit all of the watch makers in the city to try to find out who was the person who commissioned these watches to be made, and then maybe through that we kind find out who the soul survivor was."

"Agreed."

Honestly the two of you would have been a little more playful and chatty if the events that took place tonight weren't so gruesome. The two of you were used to having to see and do brutal things, but Dazai had this gut feeling that this wasn't the typical violent act, and things weren't as the seemed.

The brown eyed detective just wanted to go take a nap after this, which was something you also wanted to do after see all the blood. Deciding to leave the true start to your investigation for a decent time the two of you swiftly communicated with the responders about the potential situation at hand. Then left to go deal with is mess the next day.

Timeskip........

After a horrible night's sleep and about three cups of coffee you were finally able to be semi-functional, so then you decided to grab your partner Dazai after dressing to impress and make for the horrible mood you currently were in from multiple factors. Dazai was even in a worse state than you where, you found him at the trying to convince Kunikida to go on the investigation for him, which was ultimately denied by the blonde haired man. Also leaving you to drag the genius yet idiotic maniac out of the office.

Walking down the streets in-between visiting different watchmakers and jewelers, you noticed some was off each time your boots hit the ridged pavement. In particular something about Dazai, his face was contorted into a being in deep thought, not to be disturbed for any reason. It was so out of character you were going to ask what he was thinking about, but then opted out.

"I know you were going to ask what I was thinking, I am a detective you know." He said his face morphing into one not of deep thought but of cockiness with a smirk. Damn, sometimes you really loved and hated that smirk, but right now you didn't know what to think of it. "I was just thinking of how now I know exactly who made the watches, and where is is for your information."

"Really who would that be? For my information."

"His name is Opāru Shokunin, he's done a lot of custom jewelry for Elise-chan and the port mafia in the past, but recently he's been doing a lot of foreign commissions for gangs and syndicates outside of Japan my word of mouth. When I first saw the watches I was initially reminded of how it looked like his handy work, but since the first three places we've visited were a bust, i'm confident it's him."

"Alright Mr. Mic-cocky, lead the way by all means." You scoughed lightly.

Unfortunately for the two of you, your desired destination was all the way across yokohama, so you had to hail a taxi which you knew you were going to be the one paying or it. The icing on the shitty cake was that you got stuck in rush hour traffic, so, the total time until arrival was three time longer than it should have been. At least you got dibs on the radio choice.

When the two of you arrived at your desired destination you now witnessed a normal looking office building, unfortunately, there was no elevator so the two of you had to work your legs up three flights of stairs to make it to Opāru's workshop.

Before you went in however you whispered to Dazai "how do we know he's even gonna be willing to talk to us?"

"He's going to be willing...."

"Why?"

"Simple you're gonna pay him."

"Um no you're going to pay him because I payed for the cab!"

"Um no."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"You realize I can hear you two bickering right?" was the raspy voice of the man you were looking for that ended your whisper argument. He was actually younger than you expected, about 38, but he looked older than his body by his eyes, the eyes of someone very worn out. Which would explain the smoking. "He's right i'll talk if you pay me, just come in before ya give everyone else a headache."

The two of you swiftly made your way into the working man's shop room. The room was a lot nicer than you thought it would be, and a lot lighter too. The man possessed a very nice view from his wall because his wall was almost completely filled with by windows. Dazai did mention something about the craftsmen liking natural light in the cab on the way here, so it wasn't too surprising and really lightened the room up.

You followed Dazai to the two chairs across from the white tufted sofa that Opāru was already occupying. Then Dazai placed the watch and a thick wad of cash on the coffee table separating the two parties of people.

"Oh, so you're here to ask who paid me to customize this for them? No surprise there they were particularly nasty."

"How where they particularly nasty?"

"I'm pretty sure that they were doing things even nastier than the port mafia, like taking kids of the streets and shipping them off."

"So, supposedly by word of mouth were human traffickers."

" Yeah, supposedly, but I didn't ask when the guy approached me."

"The guy?" You reconfirmed.

"Yeah, the guy, he had this weird tattoo on his wrist. The guy's name was Zinnnnnng, THUMP.

The two of you didn't even have time to blink or create when the bullet zipped through the head of the craftsman from. The crimson liquid from his head pooling on the couch were he was just alive a few seconds ago. The blood seeping into the fabric like the disparity of situation into Dazai and yourself.

Glimpsing out middle window now tainted with a hole you see the silhouette of the person responsible for this.

Dashing up without a second thought you sprint to pursue the culprit of the murder that just took place infront of you. Eyeing your target through the broken window.

Ahhhhhhh! Okay I’m literally really proud of how this came out! I’m really hope people like it. I’m really new to writing full fanics so if any experienced writer is reading this will you please give some pointers, that would be very helpful!

-Ellie

#anime #weeb #x reader #manga #platonic #romantic #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd au #bungou stray dogs au #fanfic #fan fiction #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #oda sakunosuke #odasaku x dazai

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Four)

Summary: (Y/N) and Sam worry about their new super-soldier friend after it’s revealed that he’s on the run and wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., the very agency he’d dedicated himself to.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four (Previous Chapter)

“It’s such bullshit! Captain America’s a criminal now?!”

“I know, Greg.”

“They haven’t even said what he’s done!”

“Yep, it’s ridiculous…”

“How can they organize a manhunt for him but not say what he’s supposedly done?!”

(Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated groan. “Greg, you’re my friend and I love you but I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

The line was silent for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been having the exact same conversation for almost a half an hour! You can’t believe that Cap’s a criminal, I agree, you complain that they haven’t said what he’s wanted for, I agree, then you start going all ‘Law and Order’ on me!” She exclaimed, immediately regretting her outburst; with a sigh, she sat down in her desk chair and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Greg, that was rude. I don’t like what’s going on either; Captain America stands for freedom and honor, he always has, and it just seems…wrong that he’s the subject of a manhunt. I seriously doubt that Captain America of all people did anything to break the law.”

“Wow, when did you become such a big Cap fan?”

“I went to his exhibit when I was at the Air and Space Museum yesterday, and I guess it got me interested.” (Y/N) half-lied, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater as she pressed her phone closer to her ear. “Anyway, the reason I called was to tell you that it might take me a little longer to get the draft of my book to you; I still need to look over the last couple of chapters and with everything happening…it might be hard to focus on writing today.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike’s busy reading through a nine-hundred-page thriller that was sent in this morning so that’ll give you some time. Sorry to cut this short but I’ve gotta go, I have to check on mine and Mara’s dinner reservation for tonight, so I’ll talk to you later, (Y/N)!”

“Talk to you later, Greg!” (Y/N) hung up and set her cell phone down on the desk with a sigh. Ever since she and Sam turned on the television at breakfast and saw the breaking news, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong; Steve Rogers wouldn’t be on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. unless he had a damn good reason to be. I’m sure he’s fine, he’s probably been through much tougher scrapes than this, she thought to herself with forced optimism as she turned on her laptop and began typing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Humming along to Billy Joel’s ‘Movin’ Out’, (Y/N)’s fingers flew across her keyboard as she typed and she smiled, proud of the fact that her writer’s block from the week before was now officially over and that she was so close to completing her very first novel. Not bad, not bad at all, she thought, hitting the ‘save’ button and stretching her arms over her head to relieve the build-up tension in her shoulders.

“Now this is good music, Booksmart!”

She spun her desk chair around to see Sam standing in the doorway of her bedroom and raised her eyebrow as she turned down her music. “Oh, so Billy Joel’s okay but everything else I listen to is garbage?”

Sam gave her a teasing eye-roll. “I never said that your music was garbage, I just said it was weird. How’s the writing going today?”

“I edited twelve pages and just spent an hour trying to describe a Soviet Cold War-era missile, so it’s been okay. How was work?”

“It was good, I didn’t have any meetings scheduled so I spent most of the day playing chess with the old timers. I swear, I think Gary cheats but I can’t figure out how he does it…”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Or maybe you should just accept the fact that you’re terrible at chess and the old timers take great pleasure in seeing you lose.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. You still cool with driving me to the shop to pick up my car?”

(Y/N) got up, turning off her computer and unplugging her MP3 player from her speaker with a grin. “Of course! Driver picks the music, though!” She laughed and practically skipped out of the room as Sam let out a groan of defeat and followed her. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Birdbrain, it’s not like I’m making you listen to a CD of ambient throat singing!”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you had some of that…”

Five minutes later, they were on the road and the two of them were singing along to her one of Panic! At The Disco’s newest singles at the top of their lungs; out of the corner of her eye she could see other drivers shooting them odd looks but she couldn’t care less, she was enjoying herself far too much.

Sam chuckled as the song came to a finish. “Damn, their new album is good. You know, I didn’t start listening to alt-rock until I met you.”

“Then you should be thanking me for bringing such good music into your life!” Giggling, (Y/N) turned down the volume and glanced over at the cheerful man sitting beside her, her smile faltering as she asked, “Do you think he’s okay, Sam?”

Her roommate’s expression grew serious and he shook his head. “I really don’t know. I saw on CNN earlier that inside sources claim he’s wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D. in connection to the assassination of their director, but I don’t buy it. The guy we’ve met, who’s so dedicated to his job that he hasn’t bothered getting a life outside of it, wouldn’t be a part of something like that. I think something else’s up and I’ll bet anything he’s out there trying to figure it out.”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip, nodding after a moment. “Yeah, me too.”

“Just you wait, this whole mess with S.H.I.E.L.D.’ll be cleared up in no time. I’m calling it right now, Steve’s gonna ride up to the VA on his motorcycle and dramatically whisk you off your feet, and the two of you are gonna ride off into the sunset together while one of those sappy love songs you pretend not to like plays in the background.” Sam's teasing smirk widened when her cheeks flushed. “C’mon, Booksmart, you both were mooning over each other like teenagers after the meeting yesterday; I felt like I was in the live studio audience of a soap opera taping.”

“You know, I could always kick you out of the car and make you walk all the way to the shop, if you'd prefer.”

“And I'd still get there before you ‘cause you drive like a grandma...”

Soon after, she pulled into the auto repair shop’s lot, parking under the shade of a tree before turning to Sam with a smile. “Did you want me to stay just in case your car isn’t ready yet?”

“That would be great, actually, thanks!” Sam gave her a grin before getting out of the car and heading into the shop.

(Y/N) rolled down the windows and sighed when she felt the soft spring breeze against her skin. Taking advantage of the peaceful moment, she let her imagination wander and began brainstorming different stories and characters in her head. You should probably finish the book you’re writing before you start on another one, she thought with a playful eye-roll. Her childhood dream of becoming a published author was in the middle of coming true, and she couldn’t be any happier about it.

Just then, her eyes drifted to a silver truck that was driving past the parking lot. It was going fast so she couldn’t get a very good look at the driver, but for a split second she could have sworn that the man driving the truck had the same blonde hair and chiseled jaw as Steve Rogers. Chalking it up to worry for the runaway super-soldier, she closed her eyes and murmured, “Whatever he’s up to, I hope that he’s staying safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @momc95 @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @khuang3 @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum

Chapter Five

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #captain america fic #captain america the winter soldier

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