#and then I trip and stacks and stacks of drawings fall out of my pockets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

💖💘my heart’s dizzy and I my dose of serotonin whenever I read your prose🤟🏽😩 was wondering if you could do reader with an erratic future-vision!quirk so when they first meet yandere!Hawks they’re suddenly plagued by erotic, sensual, 365days-level of disturbing visions of them, so reader actively avoids them (it’s like those Tik Tok future-seeing videos playing to “Play Date”)

Prelude - Hawks isn’t a famous pro-hero in this, but he still has his quirk. It’s not really mentioned a bunch tho lol. This is rlly long, but I decided not to put it into two parts because the smut is so slight lol. Hope this meets your expectations anon, thank you for reading!

Pairing - Keigo Takami X Reader

Warnings - NSFW mentions, dubcon, noncon. No out-and-out explicit smut, just a really long story. Hawks is manipulative and gets what he wants

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5ukAQcKEIJuzIbP55xp07x?si=iz6I-RoDSdCNYhT2Du8etg

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He was a friend of a friend, someone you had only met once or twice.

Your friend kept bringing him to hangouts, he kept showing up on her instagram feed, getting mentioned in her twitterbio, and eventually it came out that they had started dating. It didn’t catch anyone by surprise.

What did catch you by surprise, was how infatuated with him your friend was.

“He’s just sooooo hot, isn’t he?” She squealed, shoving her phone in your face to show off a shirtless pic he had just sent her.

You nodded in agreement, quickly appraising the pic before turning your head. Yeah, her boyfriend was attractive, but you weren’t one to ruin relationships. Plus, you and Keigo had never really talked past the brief “Hey” and “Wassup?” said in greeting when introduced the first time.

“Can he come to the mall with us on Friday? I promise there will be no third wheeling.” Your friend begged, clasping her hands together. You thought about it for a second - this had been a fun shopping trip the two of you had planned a few weeks ago, meant as a girls date on a day the mall wouldn’t be crowded. But would it really hurt anything if her boyfriend came along? Probably not.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” You shrugged, watching your friends face erupt into a wide grin. “But don’t ditch me to go makeout in a bathroom or something, got it?”

“Sir yes sir!” Your friend faux saluted, before patting you on the shoulder. “Thanks girlie!”

You jerked back, head suddenly swarming with visions, your quirk activating. Your quirk was helpful in some ways, but you mainly tried not to use it - headaches resulted, and you hated getting glimpses of the future. Sometimes they’d be good, but they were often bad - you had gotten a screenshot glimpse of your brothers death, his face marred and bleeding out onto the pavement.

It still made you sick to think about it.

Touch wasn’t something you could always avoid, but you tried, seeing as how it activated your quirk, giving you visions of your future with whomever you touched, or whoever touched you.

You saw your friends face, eyes puffy with tears, shouting something. Then another scene flashed, your friend on TV, talking to a reporter.

Thankfully, the visions ended, this episode relatively quick due to how short of a time she touched you.

“Oh shit, I forgot, I’m so sorry.” She rushed to apologize, holding her hands up and backing away from you.

“It’s-it’s fine.” You wheezed, waving your hand in the air to signal that it wasn’t a big deal. The vision just probably meant the two of you would get into a fight soon, which wasn’t uncommon. It was fine, you were fine.

——

The mall wasn’t too crowded, which made the day pleasant. Your friend was talking to her boyfriend, hand tangled with his as the three of you walked in.

“So (Y/N), what do you think about that new Victoria’s Secret launch?” Your friend bumped you with her hip, drawing your attention as she pulled you into the conversation between her and her boyfriend.

“Oh, um… what?” To be fair, you had zoned out when the couple started being gross and mushy, which was like, the second your friend met Keigo at the door.

The blonde man laughed. “Victoria’s Secret just launched a new line of lingerie, have any thoughts about it?”

Turning red, you smiled sheepishly. “Ah, well…. From what I’ve seen of their stuff it’s… nice? So I’m sure it’s good.”

Your friend mock-gasped, almost slapping you on the arm before quickly remembering your quirk, drawing her hand back. You gave a quick nod of thanks.

“(Y/N)! Don’t tell me you didn’t even know about it?! I practically live, eat, and sleep Victoria’s Secret, it’s impossible to miss their product drops when you’re one of my friends.”

Unsure how to respond, you floundered, opening and closing your mouth like a lost fish.

“Babe, leave her be, she’s probably just shy.” Keigo stepped in, giving his girlfriend a chuckle as he steered you both towards a shop.

“Fineeee.” Your friend whined, turning to focus on the task ahead. “They have a VS shop here though, you’re not getting out of here without going in with me!”

----

The VS store was huge, smelling sweetly of flowers, bright colors assaulting your vision, soft pop music filling your ears.

It was hard not to cringe at all the fancy lingerie, you were honestly a bit embarrassed to be strolling through the store with your friend, let alone her boyfriend by her side.

“Does-does Keigo mind?” You quietly asked your friend, out of earshot of her boyfriend, who was looking at perfumes, last time you checked.

“Not at all birdie, I’m used to clothes, any form, any shape.”

You whirled around, squeaking in surprise at Keigo, who had apparently finished with browsing the perfume. He was flashing you a 1000 watt grin, continuing with what he was saying. “I’m a model, practically every girl I’ve ever met I’ve seen in less than full underwear, it’s no big deal.”

“Oh…. Cool.” You offered, cheeks turning red again. You felt like such a blushing schoolgirl, turning red when faced with looking at bras and panties, flushing when a man got too close.

It was the nature of the store, you told yourself, that was making you so embarrassed.

“Oo! What do you think of this one?” Your friend was holding up a babydoll, pink, with light fabric and zero coverage.

Keigo wolf whistled. “Man, that’d be a good look for you. Lets buy it.” The couple moved on, pointing at different clothes, your friend occasionally picking one from the rack to hold up against her body, looking for Keigo’s opinion.

They were cute together, laughing over the cheesy names on the tags of the lingerie, holding hands as the browsed, your friend occasionally stopping to plant a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I think that’s everything that I like…. (Y/N), your turn!” Pulled out of your casual observance, you back pedaled. “Me? No, I’m not really the type to wear this kind of stuff - I don’t even think most of it would fit, I have weird proportions.“

“Nonsense!” Keigo looked around for a moment, going to the nearest rack to quickly sift through bras, before pulling one out. “This one would make all the boys drool over you honey.”

He held it out towards you, shaking it slightly when you hesitated to take it. Was your friend okay with him talking to you like that, pushing underwear at you to buy? A quick glance sideways showed she was more than okay with it, clasping her hands excitedly as she watched you.

The bra was sheer, soft lavender fabric forming the cups, an intricate embroidered detail of flowers dotted haphazardly over the bra. It was pretty, but you weren’t exactly partial to it. When would you wear it? Who would you wear it for? You weren’t sure it was your style. Plus, it probably wasn’t even your size.

“My arm’s gettin’ real tired.” Keigo joked, before you finally took the garment from him. Checking the size, you paused for a second, blinking towards the man.

“How did you-?”

“You spend enough time in the fashion industry, you learn to tell a girl’s size just by looking at her.” He seemed to puff up, as if he was proud of his bra-sizing skills.

“Let me help her pick out some things too!” Your friend cried, rushing past you to head over to the next rack, ushering you to follow with a wave of her hand.

You ended up with an armful of lingerie - bras, panties, an odd bustier or two, and some other flowy items, like a sheer robe and a lacy chemise. The choices weren’t exactly made by you, more so made by a combination of your friend and Keigo together. They had alternated holding up items towards your body, comparing color and garment cuts, lost in their own mushy-gushy world, and it was almost like you didn’t exist for a few moments, nothing more than a barbie doll to dress up.

But now the three of you stood in line to checkout, and you felt included again, your friend cracking jokes that were making you snort, Keigo watching the two of you interact.

Until your friend accidentally brushed against your arm as she shifted forward in line.

Again, you saw her tearful face, heard her sobbing, before the other scene flashed, of her on TV, talking to the reporter. She still looked upset, eyes rimmed red, nose running, hair a mess.

With a gasp, your vision returned to the present, and you were wobbling on your feet, almost falling.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry (Y/N), I’m so so sorry. Here, let me take that, go sit down by the entrance.” She fussed over you, face concerned as she carefully took the stack of clothes from your arms, making sure to not make contact.

“Oh fuck, is she alright?” You heard Keigo ask, your friend stepping in front of you as he moved forward to check on you.

“Yeah, she’s just feeling a little dizzy. Can you make sure she doesn’t fall and crack her head open? Just wait by the entrance please.”

“Okay. Oh, here-“ You were a bit dazed, but you saw Keigo fish his wallet out of his pocket, thrusting the entire thing into his girlfriends hands before patting her on the shoulder “Whichever card is fine.”

And then you were stumbling towards the entrance, towards the bench right outside.

You hated seeing the future. Why was your friend crying? What had happened to elicit such a reaction? The unknowns killed you, kept you up at night as you tried to puzzle out the events that could lead up to the scenes from your visions.

Not looking where you were going, you tripped on air, unable to catch yourself as you plummeted towards the ground.

But then you were seeing Keigo.

He was above you, face flushed and sweaty, hair tousled, his chest bare. The room was dark, barely lit, and he was so close. The man leaned down to kiss you, then the scene changed.

You were bent over a table, only able to see the solid wood your face was smushed against. There was a heat in your belly, a tingling between your thighs, and pressure. Someone was talking - Keigo, muttering behind you angrily. You head was pulled up, a hand fisted in your hair, and then one of your knees was pushed up onto the table, and the pressure inside exploded into pure pleasure.

You felt yourself screaming, bucking your hips as you suffered through whatever the feeling was.

The scene changed again.

Hands tied above your head, you were pressed against a wall, sitting on some kind of…. Saddle? Your legs couldn’t touch the ground, and you squirmed, before gasping loudly.

There was a nub in the seat, ribbed and textured, slick with some kind of liquid… From you? Then you saw Keigo, standing in front of you, smirking at you with hardened eyes.

He had something in his hand, arms crossed over his chest while he fiddled with the object, muscles flexing. He was shirtless again, and-and his cock was hanging out of his sweatpants, pressed against his belly, smearing precum over his skin.

You tried to say something, anything - the visions never lasted this long, it was too intense, there was so much sensation. But your mouth wouldn’t move, choked up.

Keigo’s hand was on his length, rubbing slowly, saying something that didn’t reach your ears.

The scene changed.

Something was shoved down your throat, warm and twitching. You were sobbing, choking, clawing at whatever was in front of you. A dark laugh filled your ears, and you opened your eyes, met with the clenching abs of a strong stomach.

Keigo was brushing your tears, no, smudging them over your face. Were you wearing makeup? His cock was sitting in your throat, his hips moving in tiny jerks, stabbing your esophagus, making you gag.

Then you were back in the present.

A hand was holding your arm, keeping you from falling and making contact with the hard floor.

“-N)? (Y/N)? Are you okay? Talk to me birdie”

You made a panicked noise, pulling yourself out of Keigo’s grip so fast that you fell flat on the floor, scrambling backwards away from the man.

He almost looked scared, confused as he followed after you, holding out his hands. “(Y/N), you gotta calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick.”

The man reached for your arm again and you pressed yourself against the floor, screeching out a loud “No!!” before he could touch you. Keigo paused, looking at his hand, then at you. “Hey, hey, I’m not gonna touch you. It’s okay little birdie, you’re alright.” He cooed, sinking to his knees in front of you.

You were hyperventilating, wide eyes trained on Keigo. Your thoughts were swirling in your head, you couldn’t focus, the sensations of the future still echoing through your body.

Keigo crouched there while you steadied your breathing, talking to you the entire time, trying to help you relax and calm down. You weren’t sure what he was saying, something about the weather? Or a dog? But you could feel your breathing evening out, head clearing.

“Hey, she fall?” You friend was carrying two bags, crouching down beside Keigo, cocking her head at you.

Her boyfriend nodded, turning to her and taking one of the bags. “I caught her, but then she freaked out and fell for real.”

Your friend nodded. “I should’ve told you earlier, she has a touch-based quirk. Every time someone touches her, she sees snippets of her future with that person.”

Keigo cocked his own head, gazing at you curiously. “I guess her future with me isn’t too positive then?”

Your friend shrugged. “Eh, she just hates seeing parts of the future. She doesn’t want to know what’s going to happen, makes her worry or something like that. Don’t take it too personally, she’s like that with everyone.”

“It-it-“ you rasped out, causing both sets of eyes to swivel towards you. “-I hate it... because-‘cause I can’t ever cha-change it.” You shivered.

Keigo nodded in understanding, before rising to his feet. “Think you can walk to my car? I’ll drive you two home, I think you’d benefit from some rest.”

He dropped you off at your apartment, and you wearily waved at the couple as they drove off, before heading inside.

----

A week passed, then two.

The visions you had concerning Keigo were plaguing your mind, filling your body with anxiety. There had been a distinctive feel of fear during each one, and despite all the other various sensations felt, the most overwhelming had been distress.

Whatever was going to happen, you weren’t going to like it.

You were holing up in your apartment, ignoring your roommates when they knocked on your door, only leaving your room to eat or grab water. You couldn’t sleep, too scared you’d have dreams, or more accurately, nightmares of what you had seen.

Curse your quirk.

Trying to pass time, desperate to keep your mind off of the future, you threw yourself into any activity you could find.

First you tried coloring - it was supposed to be relaxing, but it gave you too much time to think.

Then you tried gaming, spending hours in front of your computer mashing the keys. That worked for a bit, but your eyes and head soon protested.

You listened to music at full volume, tried several workout videos, even resorted to cleaning your space with fervent energy.

None of it took your mind off the inevitable.

“(Y/N), someone’s at the door asking for you.” You jerked awake, slumped over uncomfortably on the floor, the half finished card tower in front of you promptly knocked over at your erratic movements.

“(Y/N)?” Your roommate called again.

“Yeah! Coming, sorry.” You mumbled, scrubbing sleep from your eyes. You guess your body would give out sometime and force you to fall asleep, but as you moved to stand, you sorely wished your body had chosen a more comfortable place to pass out.

Opening the front door, you immediately took a cautious step back, sleepy demeanor vanishing.

Keigo smiled at you, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding a bouquet of flowers.

Flowers?

“Hey birdie, mind if I come in?”

You stared at him for a second, immediately on guard. Why did he have flowers? Why did he want to come in? Wasn’t he dating your friend? She didn’t live here, what was he doing here?

The man cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at you. You moved to the side, holding open the door for Keigo to come inside.

Your roommates were home. If anything happened, they would be within earshot.

Keigo shot you a smile and a thanks, before immediately moving into the small living room, taking a seat on the couch. When he saw you still hovering by the open door, he patted the cushion beside him.

“Come sit, I promise I don’t bite.” He thought for a moment, before grinning. “Well, not unless you want me to.”

Hesitantly, you shut the front door, going to sit in a ratty armchair further away from the winged man. If this bothered him, the man didn’t let it show other than a short pause before he spoke.

“So, I know it probably seems like, super weird for me to show up at your apartment, but hear me out.”

Flowers were shoved in your lap, Keigo taking great care to avoid touching you. “I felt bad about the other day, and my girl and I decided that we should get you some flowers. She picked ‘em out, it even says so on the note.” The man laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s so uptight about this kinda stuff. Anyways, just wanted to say that I’m sorry for grabbing you like that. If I had known, I would’ve let you fall flat on your ass. But I know now, so I’ll be better, cool with you?”

Finishing his little speech, Keigo held out his hands, wings stretching behind him to mimic the gesture.

Looking at the flowers in your lap, you felt your hands shaking. Picking up the little note attached to the bouquet, you found that your friend had indeed picked out the flowers, which made sense. They were your favorites, and in a nice color too. Keigo had left a messy, scrawled “Sorry!” in one corner, before signing by his girlfriends name.

“Um, thank you Keigo, you didn’t have to apologize.” You murmured, rubbing one of the flower petals between your fingers. You were so glad your quirk extended solely to humans - if you were shown glimpses of the future of everything you touched, you would most likely go mad.

“Nah, I wanted to. Also wanted to swing by, check how you’re doing. You been taking care of yourself?” He relaxed on the couch, legs spread, arms resting behind his head. This wasn’t his home, yet you totally could believe that it was by the ease with which he owned the space with his presence.

“Oh, well… I’m still here, so…” You shrugged.

Keigo frowned. “That’s not a fun answer. How much sleep you been gettin’ each night? Eight hours?”

You shook your head, huffing out a breath in place of a laugh.

Keigo clicked his tongue. “No sleep? That’s bad for you y’know. Have you at least been drinking water? Eatin’?”

You nodded quickly, looking up to meet the man’s gaze. “I’m not a kid. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary.”

At this point, you think the best thing for your health would be for the man to leave.

The blonde man stared at you for a moment, before sighing. “Alright, I get it. But I don’t want to hear that you’ve passed out or something, got it? Your friend would kill me.”

He rose to his feet, and so did you, walking him to the door. “Thanks Keigo, and thank you again for the flowers. That was very sweet of you both.”

Keigo beamed, giving a two fingered salute. “You deserve it birdie. Well, have a good rest of your day, yeah? Eat something.”

You smiled, at Keigo as he turned away, beginning to whistle as he strolled down the hall.

Once the door was shut, you found a vase for the flowers, filling it with water and setting it on the table. Your roommates would think it was pretty, and it was, a nice little centerpiece.

That really was nice of your friend and Keigo to offer you flowers.

——

“Welcome to Gold Nile Jewelers, how can I-“ You blinked at the man entering the shop. “-Keigo.”

“Birdie? You work here?” He looked just as confused as you felt, cocking his head to the side as he approached the counter.

You looked around the small display room, nodding your head. “Yep… You looking for anything specific today?”

“Ah, right!” He clasped his hands together, bending over to lean on the display counter as he looked up at you. “So professional (Y/N), it’s just me.” The man chuckled.

“Actually, I thought I’d get my girl a cute little bracelet or something like that, you think she’d like that?”

Knowing your friend, she’d be ecstactic. “Oh, absolutely. Any particular occasion, or just an “I love you gift”?” You asked, already running through the list of bracelets in stock.

“It’s our two month anniversary in another week, thought I’d get her a little sumn’ sumn’, y’know?”

Gold Nile Jewelers was an expensive store. You patted yourself on the back for not dropping your jaw when he said “two month anniversary”. People came here for wedding rings and special occasion jewelry, not monthly anniversaries like some high schoolers.

Well, unless they were rich.

You showed Keigo the selection of bracelets currently available, the man listening quietly to your product descriptions and recommendations, asking questions about the fit and feel, and if you think your friend would like a particular one.

“Honestly Keigo, I could choose one I think she’d like, but it’d be more special if you chose for her.” You finally told him. He wasn’t annoying you, but you felt frustrated with his apparent lack of knowledge about his girlfriend. How did he not know what her favorite color was? “I’d suggest coming back in a few days. Go home, see what kind of jewelry she wears, pay attention to the colors she gravitates towards, if she’s allergic to any metals.”

Keigo tapped his chin. “Hmm, you have a good point. I guess I should pay more attention to those kinds of things.”

You nodded as you began to pack the expensive bracelets back into their display cases. “Gifts for a significant other can be hard. Honestly, it means a lot if they pick it out themselves and surprise you with it. Makes it special.”

“Oh, you have a partner?” Keigo asked, bright eyes watching your hands work.

A frown almost crossed your features, but you stopped it before it could show. “Ah, sorry, that’s not really a work-appropriate question.”

“Awh, c’mon! It’s just me, we’re friends, can’t you tell me?” Keigo pouted, batting his eyelashes at you in an exaggerated, dramatic fashion. The display made you laugh, so you indulged him. After all, he was a friend. No harm in telling him something he was bond to know sooner or later.

“I’m actually single right now. But as a jeweler sale associate, I know how much it means to a person when their partner picks out a gift for them, especially if it’s a surprise.”

Keigo nodded his head solemnly. “That makes sense. I better follow your advice then eh? Find out what she likes-“ he mused “-I can do that.”

“Good luck Keigo!” You called after him as he strolled through the door, waving when he smiled at you, giving that same, goofy two fingered salute that he always did when saying goodbye.

The man unnerved you, the visions you had experienced concerning him making you worry. But as long as he was dating your friend, you felt that you’d be fine.

-----

Keigo showed up again two days later.

“Back so soon?”

“You know me-“ He shook out his umbrella, placing it in the drip-bin by the door, wiping his shoes on the mat. “I always try to be speedy with my work.”

It was grey outside, drizzling slightly. You loved these kinds of days, where you could sit near a window and watch it rain while sipping tea. It was so peaceful and calm, and always soothed your stress.

“Find out anything useful?” Whatever he could tell you would make it easier to refine the jewelry selection for his particular needs.

“So, she doesn’t have any bracelets, and I asked her about why and she said they annoy her. She likes necklaces.” He clarified,. You could tell by the way he puffed up that he felt proud of his detective skills. “I even made a note of the lengths - she likes ones that dip low, which-“ He wolf whistled, and your stomach turned. But it was fine, just awkward.

“Alright, I think we have quite a few like that. Let me collect them for you and lay them out.”

Keigo strolled around the display room while you bustled about, looking in each case at the shiny metals and stones

You laid out the necklaces, calling Keigo over. The man smiled brightly at you as you showed him the selection, noticing he was gravitating towards the more simply, elegant choices.

“I’m sure she would be thrilled with any of these.” You offered, Keigo silent as he tried to decide between two necklaces.

Still, the man shook his head, quirking his lips. “I just…. I need to see them on, y’know?” Then he brightened, as if he had just thought of something. “Hey, can you try them on? Model one for me? Just to see what it’d look like.”

You laughed nervously. “Sorry Keigo, but I’m not allowed to do that, it’s against company policy. Only customers get to try on the jewelry, and that’s if they’re supervised.”

“Awh, c’mon! No one else is here, and I won’t tell.” The man leaned forward, shooting you a quick wink before he snatched up one of the necklaces, holding it out towards you. “Please? I just need to see it. I promise I’ll buy it.”

He was so insistent, and no matter how loud the alarm bells were wringing in your head, you felt cowed by his confidence.

“Um, still… I don’t think it’s allowed-“

“Fuck what’s allowed-“ He cut you off, snorting. “-I want to see what it looks like. It’s just me (Y/N), I’m not gonna snitch.”

A heavy sigh, and you finally agreed, taking the necklace from his nimble fingers. You slung it around your neck, not fastening the back as you held it in place. Hopefully that would be enough to sate Keigo’s curiosity.

His eyes immediately followed the curve of the necklace, how it dipped low towards your cleavage (curse you for wearing a lower-cut shirt today). You tried to ignore the leering.

“Here, let me help you fasten it, doesn’t look right otherwise.”

Before you could protest, he was sliding behind you, deft hands reaching for the necklace your had in your grasp.

“Keigo no-!”

But it was too late.

You were pressed up against a wall, face-first, your hands gathered into the small of your back and held there with a vice-like grip. There was pressure between your legs, something hammering into you, in and out, in and out, in and out.

Keigo was talking to you, you could tell it was the man by his voice. What was he saying? You were too overwhelmed with the sensation between your legs to focus on the words falling from his lips.

Sweat dripped from your temples, Keigo’s chest pressed up against your back was slick with perspiration, his nipples hard and pressing into your skin. It was an uncomfortable situation-

And then it changed.

You were tied up now, tight enough that you couldn’t move no matter how you thrashed. Knees bound in such a way so your ass was up in the air, arms stretched out in front of you, anchored to the headboard of the bed.

Keigo was behind you again - nothing to indicate that the tongue running through your core was his, but somehow, you knew.

You were begging and pleading, withing in your restraints against his tongue, but he wouldn’t let up, he wouldn’t let you crest the mountain that had built up inside. He kept chuckling, the vibrations running through you and making you buck your hips. You felt disgusting.

Then the bed was gone, and Keigo was in front of you. He was sitting in an office chair, your legs straddling his lap. Hands on your hips were dragging you back and forth, grinding you on the hard member protruding from Keigo’s lap. He was flushed, letting out little moans as he kept eye contact with you, smiling and praising you.

Then you were back.

Gasping, you shot away from Keigo, the expensive necklace clattering to the ground as it fell from your hands.

The man froze, confusion etched across his features as he watched you bend over, trying to catch your breath, to calm down, to ignore the lingering sensations from the futuristic visions.

“(Y/N)…”

“I think-I think you should leave.” You heaved, tears building. That had been awful, everything had felt good but you hadn’t. You felt uncomfortable and disrespected and stupid. That couldn’t be your future with Keigo, you wouldn’t be able to handle that. He was your friend’s boyfriend, for goodness sake!

Keigo opened his mouth to say something, but you snapped at him “Leave.”, making the man click his jaw shut.

He walked out the door, shooting you concerned glances the entire way.

You felt better as soon as he was gone, the door clicking shut after him. Thankfully, you were the only employee out front at the moment, and no other customers were present, so no one but you and Keigo had experienced your outburst.

Bending down to pick up the necklace, you inspected it carefully, horrified that you had dropped such an expensive item. It was alright though, so you brought it back to the others, shakily beginning to gather them up to put away.

You didn’t want to see Keigo again.

——-

“I just don’t understand!”

Your friend sobbed, surrounded by tissues on your bed, eyes red and blotchy. You wished you could rub her back, our give her a hug, but you knew what would happen. So you stayed on the floor, passing up tissues and offering wordless sympathy.

“Why would he break up with me? Why?”

You shrugged, looking for words. “I don’t know… I’m sorry that this happened, but if he can’t see how awesome you are, then he’s an idiot.”

She sniffed, blowing her nose. You could tell she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t say anything further, instead choosing to wipe her eyes.

She had called an hour or so ago, tearful, asking if she could come over. Refused to tell you what was wrong, but the second you let her in, she had burst into tears, explaining everything.

Keigo had broken up with her via text, that asshole.

“I just…. I thought we were good. Did I do something wrong? I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I. You said he just texted you out of the blue?”

She nodded her head, going to blow her nose again. “We were supposed to go out for dinner tomorrow, it’s our two month anniversary.”

You cringed. Did your encounter with Keigo in the jewelry store have something to do with this? Had you driven your friend’s boyfriend away? Had you weirded him out? Oh god, what if this was all your fault?

Your friend broke down into a sob again, slumping onto your bed. You passed her another tissue. “It’ll be okay. I think he’s a stupid fucker that just wanted to play with your heart. He isn’t worth shit. You deserve so much better than him.”

She nodded, blotchy eyes seeking out your own. In the back of your mind, you cringed, seeing the exact same scene from your vision. Well, at least the two of you hadn’t gotten in a fight.

——-

A few weeks later, Keigo was at your door.

“You need to leave. Now.”

“Aw, c’mon (Y/N), at least hear me out?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Maybe he had a dumb explanation for why he had dumped your friend. You were wary of him accidentally touching you again though. “Fine, but make it quick.”

“No promises.” He grinned, breezing past you and into your apartment. He beelined for the chair you had sat in last time he was here, leaving you to take a seat on the couch.

“Alright-“ He settled in, fixing you with a gleeful eye. “How do you feel about your quirk?”

Caught off guard, you blinked. Wasn’t he going to explain why he had broken your friend’s heart? “Um, what?”

“Your quirk, y’know, the one that makes you see the future?” He leaned forward, rubbing his hands together with a smile. He seemed far too pleased, and it made you nervous.

“I hate it. If I could get rid of it, I would.” You stated, ready to move onto a different topic. But just as you were about to ask him about your friend, he rose to his feet, fishing in his pockets.

He drew out a bracelet, black and red, thin. “Well then, lookie what I have.” The man walked over, sitting down quickly on the couch next to you, causing you to immediately scoot to the end. You didn’t want him touching you.

“Oh, sorry.” He apologized upon noticing your unease. Instead of scooting closer, he simply tossed the bracelet onto your lap, leaning back as he watched you look at it curiously. “Put it on, see how it fits.”

“I don’t need jewelry Keigo, and I think we should be spending our time discussing why you bro-“

“Just put it on (Y/N), please? I promise you won’t regret it.”

Huffing, you did as he asked, clasping the bracelet around your wrist. It fit snug, almost too tight, but it hugged your wrist comfortingly. It was pretty, but you didn’t see what this had to do with your quirk, or with your friend, or anything that held any relevancy.

Bracelet now on, you fixed Keigo with a blank stare. “Happy?”

“I don’t know.” Keigo grinned. “Are you?” And then he was hugging you, arms wrapped around your shoulders, face buried in your neck.

You shrieked, already panicking as you tried to ready yourself for the onslaught of visions that accompanied physical touch.

They never came.

Choking back a surprised gasp, you drew back from his hug to find Keigo’s eyes, the man smiling down at you as he watched your reaction.

“Kei-Keigo…” You stuttered, shocked, surprised, euphoric, confused - so many emotions, all at once. You couldn’t even think to brush off the hands still around your shoulders, thumbs brushing at the tops of your exposed collarbones by the neck of your shirt.

You weren’t able to think rationally, couldn’t focus on anything but the awe you felt at being touched without being slammed with visions of the future.

You forgot about the terrifying visions you had gotten when Keigo touched you.

You forgot about how he had hurt your friend, broke her heart with no explanation.

You forgot about his hands refusing to leave your body.

“Keigo, this is…. Amazing” You breathed, wide eyes snapping up, catching his smiling face, eyes crinkly and twinkly.

“I had my team modify some quirk-cancelling cuffs! You seemed so upset whenever someone touched you, I couldn’t leave you with such a burden.”

Nodding, you returned your gaze to the bracelet, turning your wrist this way and that to look at the bracelet from different angles.

“I mean, I know how much I like being touched, and touching. I think I’d totally die if I couldn’t.” Keigo chuckled, but you weren’t listening.

The rest of his time sitting next to you on the couch was spent explaining the colors he had spent so long picking (“They’re my personal favorite, aren’t they nice?”) and why he had decided on a bracelet (“It could’ve been a necklace, but I think it looks better in it’s original cuff design, looks cooler that way.”).

By the time he had to leave, you were completely sidetracked, so distracted with your shiny new jewelry that you didn’t even remember to ask what his deal was with being a jerk to your friend, his now ex-girlfriend.

-----

“-and then he gave me the bracelet. I wasn’t thinking much after that, I just… I can hug you, isn’t that incredible?”

You gave your friend another squeeze, feeling a smile dance across your face. But then you sobered, pulling back from her with your hands on her shoulders, quickly becoming serious.

“But he’s really starting to kind of weird me out. Why won’t he explain why he broke up with you? He’s being a little bitch. I tried asking him a couple times, but he kept cutting me off, and I feel like the bracelet was a distraction to stop me from busting his chops about his behavior towards you.”

Your friend looked sad for a second, before shrugging. “I dunno, he just said things weren’t working out, and that while he liked me, he’s not ready for a relationship right now ‘cause of where he’s at in his life.”

“Psh-“ You scoffed, going in for another comforting squeeze for your friend. “-that’s code for “I’m a fuckboy and want to sleep around”.”

“I know….. But it still hurts.” You friend sighed, wrapping her arms around your neck. “But at least he gave you that quirk thing. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

“I just wish he was a mildly decent person.” You grumbled, detaching from the hug to sit back, glaring at the ceiling. “He gives me the fucking creeps.”

“How so?” You friend locked her head to the side, throwing her arm over the back of the couch. You had called her over the second Keigo had left, finally gathering your wits about you.

“I dunno…” You shrugged, not quite ready to tell her about the disturbing visions containing him. Did that have something to do with their breakup? Was it your fault? What was going to happen with Keigo? It honestly scared you, the residual feelings and sensations you could remember from the visions.

Your friend nodded understandingly. “Some people just give off those vibes. Well, at least we don’t ever have to see him again. Good riddance I say.”

You agreed.

——-

Knocking on the door, you shuffled your feet as you took in the house.

It was one of those rich places - nice neighborhood, fancy street filled with lavish houses, expensive cars. You felt slightly out of place, shifting from foot to foot in your clearance-rack clothes.

The door swung open, revealing a sleepy Keigo, shirtless, clad in nothing but sweatpants.

“Oh, um-“ You quickly turned, averting your eyes, trying to give the man privacy in case he hadn’t realized he was shirtless. It looked like he had just woken up from a nap, eyes blinking owlishly, hair mussed.

“Hey (Y/N), come on in.”

Still keeping your eyes turned away, you stepped inside the opulent house, trying not to gape too much at the decor inside. You didn’t want to look like a complete peasant in front of Keigo, but he’d already been to your house, so you could imagine that he knew of your poor-ness.

“Something wrong? You can look at me y’know, I’m not gonna turn you to stone or something.” Keigo joked, voice entirely too close for comfort.

Head whipping around, you found that he was too close, practically almost touching you as he stood beside you, head cocked as he watched you.

“No… nothings wrong, you’re just…” You gestured to his torso, and Keigo looked down in confusion, before looking back at you, a grin on his face.

“Ah, just woke up.” He shrugged, before reaching out to touch your arm. “Bracelet still keeping that quirk at bay?”

You nodding, following the blonde as he turned and walked further into his house, towards the kitchen.

“Glad to hear! I just wanted to look at it a bit, make sure nothing’s worn or torn, y’know? Hate for you to have to deal with the no-touching thing again.” He said over his shoulder, gesturing for you to sit down at the island, on one of the barstools.

You did so, watching the man open his fridge, take out a carton of milk, uncap it. “Is it too tight?”

“Nope.”

He drank right out of the bottle, and you watched some dribble out of the corner of his mouth, down his chin. The man finished gulping down the milk, taking the bottle away from his lips to swipe at the white trail of liquid rolling down his chin.

Eyes dark, he made contact with your own eyes as he cleaned his chin with a finger, stuffing it in his mouth to suck it clean.

That was gross.

The next second, he was back to normal, cheerfully putting the milk back into the fridge. “Good, good. Now, mind if I take a look at it? You should keep it on though.”

You nodded, and Keigo straightened, walking around the island to sit next to you, shuffling his stool closer.

He grabbed your wrist, laying it out on the island, before beginning to poke at the bracelet, running his fingers over it, fiddling with it, squeezing the tendons in your hand, smoothing his hand up your arm.

It felt a bit intrusive.

“So the visions are all blocked?”

“Yep.”

“And you can touch and be touched?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your appetite? Sometimes complete quirk suppression can make you lose your appetite.”

“It’s been normal, I guess I’m a little hungrier than normal, but I’ve been getting out more too, not as afraid of crowds.”

“Nice! And how about your libido?”

You spluttered, choking on your own spit, snatching your hand away from Keigo’s wandering touches.

“Excuse me? That’s a bit personal, thanks.”

Keigo shrugged, bright eyes hooded and lazy. “It’s just a question.”

“Are you done making sure it’s all good? No broken parts?” You changed the subject, narrowing your eyes. You can’t believe your friend had ever dated him, that you had ever thought he was anything but a playboy.

You wouldn’t even be here, in his house, but he had come into the jewelers a while back (both you and your friend had blocked his number), spouting something about your bracelet needing constant checks and maintenance in order to keep suppressing your quirk. (“Wouldn’t want it to stop working, right? Just stop by sometimes, here’s my address.”).

So here you were.

Keigo leaned back a little, raising an eyebrow at your irritated tone of voice. “Woah there, don’t get snippy. I’m doing you a favor, right? I’m not trying to hurt you or something.”

Technically, you guess he was right. But he had played your friend, had fucked with her feelings. He was a fuckboy, liked messing with each and every girl he could find, and you didn’t care to be one of them.

“And I appreciate that Keigo. But I like to keep my private life private.”

Keigo was silent, simply holding out a hand for you to place your arm in, so he could fiddle more with the bracelet.

Several moments of awkward silence passed before he spoke again. “You’re being awfully ungrateful. It makes me think you don’t even want this little gift. If I were you, I’d be doing everything I could to show the person kind enough to do such a thing for me how thankful I was.”

Lost for words, you stared at the man. Was he expecting some sort of award? Some sort of prize? It’s not like you had anything to give him.

“I don’t have anything to give you in thanks. Just my words, which I’ve said plenty of. I didn’t ask you to make this for me.” You pointed out.

“Sure, but you use it, don’t you? You wouldn’t like it if I took it away, right? Think about how miserable your life was before I gave you this.”

Your life had been miserable. Afraid to go out in crowds, afraid to leave the house, Nervous about grocery shopping, about paying and having the cashier touch your hand as they handed over the change.

Scared of public transportation, of coffeeshops and bookstores, of public parks, even your own home. What if one of your roommates forgot and touched you? Or accidentally bumped into you?

Plus, you could hug now, and shake hands, and slap your friends back when she told a horrible joke, or tap her when you wanted her attention.

You didn’t want to go back to before. “I’m sorry Keigo… I really do think it’s lovely, and I can never thank you enough for doing this for me.”

Keigo let go of your arm, and it swung back to your side. You could feel the man looking at you.

“You know what would let me know that you mean it?”

God, it better not be something sexual.

“You could buy me coffee. Or maybe a cookie from that bakery on 1st Avenue, you know the one? With the little bunny pastries?”

That surprised you.

“You go there? That’s my favorite place.” You mused, looking at Keigo in surprise. He didn’t seem the kind of guy who’d like a place like that. But appearances could be deceiving.

“Of course! I really like their stuff.”

“Alright,” You conceded, rising to your feet. “I’ll get you some stuff from there. Want it today?”

Keigo rose to his feet as well, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Yeah! Let me get dressed real quick, and then I’ll go with you. Don’t go anywhere birdie.” He shot you a wink, before sauntering past you, out of the kitchen. You raised a brow, surprised. He meant to go with you?

“Make yourself at home while you wait, don’t be afraid to kick up your feet!”

——-

The bakery smelled as lovely as usual.

A warm atmosphere, good food, friendly employees. It was your favorite place for a reason.

“Alright, what do you want?” You asked Keigo, the two of you staring up at the menu.

“Hmm, I don’t know. What are you going to get?”

“Probably a muffin, those are my favorite.”

“What!?! That’s my favorite too! How crazy.” Keigo smiled at you, dimples showing. You got the feeling that he was brown-nosing you, but you kept the thought to yourself, striding up to the counter to order.

Muffins purchased, you approached Keigo, who was lounging by one of the display cases, admiring the delicate, mouthwatering masterpieces held within.

“All good to go?” His smile was so charming, so friendly, you almost caught yourself wanting to see it more. Huffing in irritation at yourself, you pushed past him, shoving the bag with his muffin into his chest.

“Here’s your stuff. I’m going home now, see you around.”

“Wait!” Keigo turned, jogging a little to catch up as you exited the bakery. “We gotta eat these before they get cold - hey, birdie, are you listening to me?“

You weren’t, stoically keeping your head turned forward, walking with determination. There was only so much of Keigo that you could tolerate, and you had reached your limit. He was starting to really annoy you, didn’t he get that you wanted to go home? You’ll just eat your muffin on the subway, it’s not that hard.

“(Y/N)-“ His sudden growl was punctuated by an arm on your shoulder, spinning you around and pulling you towards the man.

“Hey-!” The sudden collision of your face with his chest knocked your breath away, almost causing you to drop your own muffin in the process.

When you managed to gather yourself, you shot a glare up at Keigo’s face, only to find the blonde smirking down at you, a fierce glint in his eyes.

“I expect you to listen when I’m talking, got it? I don’t like being ignored.”

That’s evident.

You tried to back away, but he still had a hand on your shoulder, squeezing you tight to him. “Keigo! Let me go, you stupid idiot-“

“Stop it, I’m not doing anything to you, ya big baby.” He cooed down at you, before taking his hand away, letting you stumble backwards.

He was just messing with you, teasing you. It was obvious, yet still you allowed him to be around you.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I know all the touching’s gotta be new still. Wanna go eat these in the park? I’ll buy you some ice cream if you want.”

“I don’t want ice cream, I want to go home.”

Keigo frowned, walking after you when you turned on your heel, heading for the subway. “Why do you dislike me so much? I’ve done so much to help you, and yet you spit in my face. Your parents ever teach you how to be grateful? Or even respectful?”

You gasped at his accusation, stopping in your tracks to whirl around, only to find the man far closer than what you had expected. Still, you tried to hide your surprise at his proximity, jabbing a finger in his direction.

“You are a playboy, you broke my friend’s heart, and you want to sleep with every single person you come across just to mess with their feelings. I don’t want to be around you. I won’t get dragged into that.”

The man watched you, face solemn and contemplative. “Is that really how you see me?”

“Why would I say any of that unless it was true?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking up and around, as if gathering his bearings, before back down at you.

“Have you ever considered that I’m the one getting my heart broken?”

“Yeah right-“ You scoffed, only for Keigo to cut you off.

“People want to sleep with me because they think it’ll get them something that they want. Fifteen second fame, a piece in a tabloid about my “new lover”…. Think it’ll help them further their career, or that I’ll give them money. I can’t find anyone real.

“And my friend wasn’t real enough for you?” You spat, not believing him for a second.

“Nope. You think she liked me for who I am?”

“Uh, yeah? She gushed to me all the damn time about how good you were, how she felt about you. That girl held nothing but love and affection for you.”

The man snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, love for my wallet.”

“She’s not like that.” You argued, brows furrowing.

“Really? Cause she was sucking me dry, and not even in a sexy way.”

You crinkled your nose at what he was implying. Your friend wasn’t like that, she truly had felt for Keigo, had liked him as her boyfriend. She wasn’t just a leech.

“I’m done talking about my failed love life.” Keigo said lowly, nudging your shoulder. “I just thought two friends could hangout, but it seems like you think all I do is try and fuck people.”

“No, Kiego…. That’s not what I meant.” Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but right now…. You almost felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

Some of what he was saying made sense, how people would try and use him for various reasons. But that still didn’t explain his sudden and harsh breakup with your friend. And over text no less, a complete douche move!

But you felt bad about his words, about how he seemed to actually want to hangout, and yet you were accusing him of trying to sleep with you. But what about those visions you had had? Was that even how they went? Or were you remembering falsely based on your bias towards the man?

And what about his suggestive touches, his leering gaze? Was that maybe just how he always was, and it wasn’t exclusive to you? Were you inflating your place in his life, thinking that he wanted you?

It was confusing, and you didn’t want to think about it, try and untangle the lies from the truth. Right now, you just wanted to eat your muffin.

“If you really didn’t mean it, then can we go eat these in the park? I just want to chill with someone that isn’t trying to gain something from me. I want to spend time with someone that’s real.”

With a half-irritated sigh, you nodded, hoping you wouldn’t regret hanging out with the obnoxious man.

-----

He kept calling you, texting you. You’d had to unblock his number at some point, in order for him to text you about the bracelet and when he needed to look at it.

“Come overrrrr, I’m bored!”

“Birdie, are you hungry? The delivery place gave me extra Torikatsu and I don’t want it to go bad. Can I come drop it off?”

He’d swing by the jewelers, leaning over the counter to talk to you about a recent shoot he’d booked, or something he saw recently.

Keigo seemed to slowly insert himself into every facet of your live, against your will, ignoring every subtle, irritated attempt of yours to turn him away. Every single time you saw him, your mind would inevitably think of the visions, but you felt like you couldn’t trust yourself with those anymore.

The man assured you at every step, he had no romantic feelings for you, he just wanted a friend, someone to put him in his place, be honest with him.

You definitely were honest.

Snapping at him when he showed up at your apartment uninvited, coming up behind you on the street and grabbing your sides, laughing when you shrieked and tried to hit your attacker, only to realize it was Keigo.

Tearing into him when he tried to talk badly about your friend - she had been having less and less contact with you, and you couldn’t figure out why. Now your relationship with her was reduced to curt text messages. Maybe she was just going through a hard time, and wanted alone time? Still, you let her know you were there for her, whenever she needed.

You were honest when Keigo asked your opinion on food, TV shows, clothes, movies. It was almost satisfying saying something sucked, just to see Keigo’s face fall slightly, before he shook his head, whining.

“Then help me pick something out! I can’t do it without you-“

He totally could, he was just being a baby.

The more he inserted himself into your life, the more you realized that he was akin to a petulant child, just with muscles and a penchant for inappropriate touching.

Whenever he saw you, he’d try to draw you into a hug, letting his hands drop far down your back, way too low for you to feel comfortable. You’d slap them away, and Keigo would laugh, before ruffling your hair.

He’d have you come over so he could check your quirk suppressor, except he was in the middle of a show, and it was getting to the best part. (“Sit down, shhh, it’s just getting good!”) You’d have to sit through the entire thing, enduring Kiego’s hand lazily drawing shapes over your pants on your thigh, simply putting it back whenever you shoved it off.

He was insufferable, irritating to no end, but you could tell he was a lonely man, bitter about his love life and with his friendships.

So you tolerated his presence.

After all, he wasn’t trying to hurt you. That’s something he reiterated every single time you shied away from his touch. He made you feel like a fool for thinking the man was hitting on you, when he made it so clear that he wasn’t, only interested in friendship.

Until you fell asleep at his house.

Another one of those days were he needed to look at your quirk suppressor (which you were 99% sure was fine, it seemed like he just enjoyed seeing it on your wrist). He had been rummaging around in his room before he had to run and open the front door for you, talking as he walked back to return to his previous task.

Apparently he was trying to find a good shirt, seeing as how he had pants on, but his chest was bare. Keigo instructed you to sit on the bed for a second while he retreated into his massive closet, trying to find a good shirt to go with the rest of his outfit.

His bedroom was pretty large, a full California King taking up the majority of the space, neatly made. The sheets and blankets felt soft beneath your fingers as you sat on it’s edge, prepared to wait for Keigo for a bit.

The man always took his fashion very seriously - one time he’d even spent two hours trying on clothes until he’d decided on an appropriate outfit to go to the park.

So you followed your tired eyes, exhausted from work and dealing with Keigo, worrying about your friend, daily life stressors and the like. Keigo wouldn’t mind if you laid back, right? Your feet wouldn’t be on the bed, so it’d be fine.

And it was fine, pleasant, the room the perfect temperature.

You were roughly jerked out of sleep by pressure. Pressure on your hips, pressure on your lips.

Eyes jolting open, you tried to inhale, only to find yourself unsuccessful.

Keigo was on top of you.

Panicking, your hands came to push at him, a muffled sound of protest being squeaked out from where his lips pressed against yours.

Noticing you were awake, Keigo pulled back, smiling the whole while.

“I’m not willing to wait anymore, I just gotta have you.”

His eyes were glinting, hair tousled, still shirtless. You felt goosebumps arise as you remembered the vision you had so long ago, of this exact moment.

“Wai-mmph!” His lips were on yours again, passionate and warm, moving eagerly. A wet tongue pressed at the seam of your mouth, surprising you and making you blanch, which allowed the man access.

Kiego’s tongue explored the inside of your mouth, playfully tapping your own wet muscle, encouraging you to lift it and wrestle with him.

This was too weird, this wasn’t happening, you couldn’t do this-

Biting down hard, you snapped your teeth shut on his tongue, and Keigo yelped, drawing back immediately.

“Ouch, what the fuck!?! Chill out (Y/N), geez.” His hand was dabbing at his mouth, wincing when it came in contact with his bleeding tongue. You had bitten him deep, but you weren’t focused on that right now.

“What are-what are you doing?” Your voice was breathless, disoriented. The room felt…. Dark, and suffocating, as if it was closing in on the two of you, trapping you.

Keigo looked down at you, and it was only then that you realized you had been moved to lie on the bed fully, shoes off, legs splayed. The man rested on his stomach between them, his weight pressed against your body, keeping you still.

“I told you, I can’t wait anymore. I’ve been as nice as I can, but it’s time you started paying me back for everything I’ve done for you.”

What? Paying him back-was he talking about the quirk suppressor he had gifted you? Had he been lying about his true intentions this whole time?

“That’s not right, it was a gift, you-you don’t have to pay back a gift.” You spluttered, feeling as if your chest was collapsing.

Keigo shook his head, swooping down to leave a bloody kiss on your forehead, which you cringed at, before pulling back to speak.

“Nah, it wasn’t a gift. You know how expensive it was? You were always gonna have to compensate me. Now shush, I wanna feel you-“

One of his hands grabbed your jaw, keeping your face turned towards his, pressing down until tears formed in your eyes. His lips were bloody from the bite on his tongue, tasting unmistakably like iron.

You didn’t want this.

Trying to bite him again left you with a slap to your thigh, making you cry out. Keigo huffed out a laugh against your mouth.

He detached from your lips, just to start nibbling at your jawline, elating streaks of red where his lips touched.

“God, you are so sexy. I was trying to chill, but then I came out and you were sleepin’ all cute, and I couldn’t fucking stop myself from touching.”

“Stop doing this, I can pay you with something different. I don’t wanna do this Keigo.” You whispered, on the verge of crying.

“No, I get to decide what you’ll be doing for me, it’s my bracelet-“

“It’s not, you gave it to me, please stop-“

“Shut up.” He growled sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, nipping at the skin hard enough to have you screaming. “You’re so ungrateful, where’s my thanks? I’ve done so much for you.”

“Thank you, thank you Keigo, I appreciate it all-“ You hurried out, hoping it was what he wanted to hear “But I can’t do this, please don’t make me. I wanna go home.”

“There we go, I like the sound of you thanking me. You’re going to thank me for each and every time you cum tonight, got it?”

“No, no, we can’t do this, I can’t! Get off of me, please-“

“You’ll do it, or else I’ll whip you until your flesh hangs off of you in strings.” He hissed, squeezing your jaw cruelly.

The tears in your eyes overflowed as you fell silent.

“Aw, birdie, don’t cry. I’m not gonna hurt you, I never have, right?” He waited for a second, watching your face before he pressed harder, eyes hardening “Right?“

You nodded jerkily, and Keigo came to kiss your tears away, savoring their salty taste as they rolled down your cheeks.

“Keigo, this isn’t right though, please get off me. I don’t want this-“

“You want me to take this away?” A hand caught your shaking wrist, the one that had the quirk suppressor fastened snugly around it, wrenching it up so both of you could see it. “Huh? Put you back where you were in your miserable little life? Running away from everyone, holing up in your apartment, not willing to touch or be touched…”

The very thought made your insides churn, and a fresh round of tears rolled down your face as you shook your head no, lips wobbling as you whined. You felt so pathetic, so small and dumb underneath Keigo.

“That’s what I thought. You’re going to relax now, right? No more begging unless it’s for more.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, beginning to shuffle around until he could slide his hands under your shirt, pressing against your tummy as you flinched away.

“Don’t worry birdie, you’re gonna like every single thing we’re gonna do. You’ve had sex now, yeah? Since I gave you the bracelet?”

You shook your head “no”, it’s not like you were eager for sex before you got it, and all the touching-without-terrifying-visions thing was still new to you, the dating world was being eased into. Somehow though, every single date seemed to be crashed by the man on top of you.

Keigo lit up like a Christmas tree, licking his lips gleefully. “Okay, okay, I can-whew, that’s hot-I can be gentle.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you, his hands skirting up your ribs, shucking up your shirt as the traveled higher and higher.

“Keigo please-“

“Don’t you dare say stop, I’m not gonna. You’re the first person that doesn’t want anything from me, you’re real, and I’m not stopping.”

His admission made you cringe, recoiling from his touch. He followed you, palms finally smoothing over your breasts, over your bra.

“You’re going to do what I say, or else this-“ Your wrist was wrenched into view, red-and-black bracelet glittering. “-gets removed. And I’ll still do whatever the fuck I want, but you’ll be off in your mind having visions of who-knows-what while I have my way. Got it?”

Your blood chilled, body suddenly feeling ice cold. His tone was dead serious, spitting out the words with a sense of finality.

“So, just lay there and take it birdie, I’ll be good to you.”

#yandere keigo takami #keigo x reader #Keigo Takami #yandere takami keigo #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #Yandere bnha #yandere #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #tw.somno #tw dubcon #creepy keigo

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x reader)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about reader’s past. Reader and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Y/N playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love.

She maneuvered the bins to her satisfaction and shut the closet doors, pushing against them to squeeze everything in until the latch clicked. She turned to see him watching her and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. She gave him a wink and a grin, and he was falling all over again.

She perched on the corner of her desk with a tired sigh, and he made his way across the room to her. She reached for him as soon as he was within arms length, wrapping her arms around his middle. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily.

“Yo, Y/L/N!”

The call of her name from the hallway startled them both. Anita began to step over the threshold, continuing, “You ready to get absolutely crunk tonight or— oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes tracking Spencer’s frame. “Dr. Reid.”

Spencer stepped back from Y/N, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Y/N. “So, are we going out or what?”

Y/N groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Y/N chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Y/N stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Y/N was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor.

They’d met up with her and Sam at a Mexican restaurant in Tenleytown. Sam was wonderfully kind and funny, even apologizing for having “flipped him the bird” the last time she saw him. And it was a good thing Sam was being friendly, because Anita was decidedly… less so.

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Y/N’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Y/N’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Y/N and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool.

“Y/N is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Y/N insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.

“The field trip!” Y/N turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“So many things,” Sam baited.

Y/N covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening.

“Okay, so many things happened,” Y/N started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Y/N composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured.

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Y/N agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in.

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Y/N turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.”

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Y/N clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Y/N dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles.

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Y/N lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space.

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Y/N reminded him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Y/N complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

She gave Spencer a reassuring smile, and he tried not to panic as she stood and left him with Sam and Anita. And because the universe was toying with him, at that exact moment, Sam’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket with a sigh.

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first.

“You know what’s annoying?”

Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Considering that the issues one might classify as an annoyance vary for each individual person, there are over seven billion potential answers to that question.”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She dropped her hand back to the table. She still didn’t crack a smile, and her gaze bore into him. “I don’t know how much you know about Owen, and she’d probably kill me for saying anything. But he was a real piece of shit.”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Y/N might have been with before him.

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “The point is, I didn’t know he was treating her like garbage until it was too late. He was already all…” She gestured wildly around her head. “In her head, telling her lies about herself, fucking her up, isolating her. For years he did that. And then it took her years to get him out of her head. To— unlearn all the lies. To build herself back up.”

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Y/N had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored.

“You’re a fed or whatever, so I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she continued, “but I would love nothing more than to put that fucker six feet under.” She ran her hand through her hair, and when she continued her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “All that to say, I… I wasn’t there for her when Owen was destroying her from the inside out. And I will never let that happen again.”

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze, and he couldn’t quite think of the appropriate response. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His brain was still fixated on the idea that anyone had ever hurt the loveliest and kindest woman he’d ever met.

“Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Y/N slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee.

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Y/N with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Y/N with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs.

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy.

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door.

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips.

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.”

He couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face at the endearment, the way that North Carolina dripped syrupy and thick over every syllable. She pulled him down to meet her in a sweet kiss, quickly deepening it as he dug his fingers into the softness of her hips. Her hands wound into his hair, tugging lightly and holding him close.

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. She laced their fingers together and leaned on him while she kicked off her shoes. He toed his own off and then allowed her to lead him toward his bedroom.

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again.

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

“Ha, ha.” Part of him wanted to bring up Owen, but she was so happy and warm and comfortable in this moment. He didn’t want to ruin this night of celebration. He didn’t want to ruin this day that had been so full of love. They had plenty of time to discuss Owen.

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

A week later, the pair of them were strolling up the sidewalk to the LaMontagne house. Will and JJ were long overdue for a date night, and Spencer had jumped at the opportunity for the two of them to babysit. When they reached the door, Spencer rang the bell and Y/N waited slightly behind him.

They could hear the joy from behind the door before it even opened, Michael’s high pitched giggle and Will’s booming laugh. Spencer was already leaning down in preparation, and Michael absolutely launched into his arms as soon as the door swung open. Spencer clocked the moment that Michael spotted her, purely because he practically squealed and squirmed right out of Spencer’s grip.

“I knew it!” Michael cried.

He wrapped himself around Y/N’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Y/N forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.”

Y/N’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?”

Michael waited patiently for her to take off her shoes. “Well firstly, he started picking me up all the time, which was nice but weird. And then he wouldn’t stop asking about you. It was kind of annoying.” Spencer made a choking sound, and Will stifled a laugh.

“You guys wear the same shoes, and you both love Halloween and tea and reading. I knew you’d like him if he could be a guest reader.” As he led her into the living room, Michael continued, “Oh, and you wore his purple scarf. He doesn’t let anyone wear the purple scarf.”

Spencer vividly remembered that morning— she’d slept over after a midweek date night in April. The temperatures in DC had plummeted overnight, and the outfit she’d brought left her woefully under-dressed for the chilly spring day. He’d wrapped her up in the soft, purple scarf without a second thought.

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Y/N into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

Spencer pulled his legs up in the tiny chair, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a moment to watch the scene in front of him unfold. Usually on nights like this, Michael ran him ragged with demands for magic tricks, story time, and playing pretend. Tonight, he’d actually been able to catch up with middle school (middle school!) Henry, because Michael was totally and completely enthralled by Y/N.

She was helping with the last of the setup for the “restaurant,” organizing Michael’s menus and straightening his clip-on tie. Of course he’d seen her with kids before. But something about being in this playroom— one that he’d spent so many hours in, watching two of his favorite kids grow up— had him feeling warm from head to toe.

Henry had bounded down the stairs at the news that uncle Spencer was dating his former kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t realized that she’d taught Henry, too, although with the timeline of her teaching career he should have put two and two together. The generally reserved middle schooler had positively beamed when she gasped out, “Gosh, I always forget how tall you’ve gotten!”

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hen!” Michael called.

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him.

Y/N tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”

“No, no, no.” Michael pushed her toward the kid-sized table. “You and uncle Spencer are on a fancy date.”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully and stood from the chair, pulling it out for her like a perfect gentleman. She beamed at him and gave him a wink. “Thank you, sir.”

She dropped lightly into the chair across from Spencer and laughed a little at his folded limbs. “You look very comfortable.”

He laughed and stretched his legs out straight. “The picture of comfort, really. These chairs were clearly designed with six foot men in mind.”

“I’m sorry I’m so under-dressed for our fancy dinner date,” she teased, dropping her chin into her hand.

“You look stunning, as always.” He gestured to the messy braid Michael had folded her hair into. “I especially love what you’re doing with your hair.”

She sucked in a dramatic breath, bringing up her hand to pat lightly at her hair. “You’re making me blush, doctor.” She peeked behind her and then lowered her voice. “I’m probably going to cry when I try to brush the rats out.”

He looked at her sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I think I’ve got a wide tooth comb, and I can help. I’ve gotten pretty good at detangling Michael’s handiwork.”

Before she could respond, Michael made his way to the table, holding a dish towel over his arm. “Good evening, sir, madam.”

“Good evening,” they chorused, with barely suppressed grins.

“Compliments of the chef.” Michael held out his hand to reveal two slightly smushed strawberries.

“Oh, wow,” Y/N said, eyes wide and gesturing to Spencer. “Honey, do you want to—”

Spencer waved his hand, eyeing the berries warily. “No, no, please, help yourself.”

Y/N held back a smile and accepted the strawberries, holding them carefully in her hand and turning her attention back to Michael. “Thank you so much. What a wonderful appetizer. Could we hear the specials?”

That helped Michael remember the menus, and he pulled them from his pocket and cleared his throat. He handed them the construction paper menus. “Our specials tonight are roasted octopus and a steak tartar.”

From the kitchen, Henry mumbled, “Tartare.”

“Tartare. Steak tartare is our special,” Michael corrected.

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m that adventurous. Maybe my boyfriend is though,” Y/N told a grinning Michael. “What do you recommend for a picky eater?”

“My favorite is the chicken nuggets.”

“Well then, sign me up. One order of chicken nuggets.” Y/N handed him the menu.

Spencer was still perusing the menu for Le Chateau LaMontagne. He smiled at Michael’s handwriting, but particularly at the places where he could tell Y/N had helped. “Everything looks delicious,” he finally decided, “but, you know... I think I’m also going to have the nuggets.”

…

When the boys were finally in bed, Spencer and Y/N settled down in the living room to untangle the mess of her hair. She sat on the floor in between his legs as he gently pulled each braid strand free. He smiled at the way she arched up into his touch, shivering when his fingers brushed over her neck.

“You’re lucky,” he remarked, laying the last braid strand back into its original place. “Michael seems to have gotten a little better at braiding.”

She leaned her head back into his hands. “You detangled the whole thing?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. She brought her hands up to hold him against her, trying to deepen the kiss before laughing at the awkward angle and giving up.

He sat up as she stood and moved to the couch, snuggling up close to him and tucking herself under his arm. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed. “For many reasons.”

Her hand drifted to rest on his tummy, her fingers immediately tracing little shapes over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “And tired, too.”

“Hmm?”

He leaned his cheek against her head. “When you get tired, you, um— you start drawing on my stomach.”

Her finger paused. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She shifted to raise her head to look at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve just— noticed.”

She smiled a little sleepily. “You know I love all of you. But I— well, I don’t know, really. I just like your tummy.” She gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s just— nice and comfy and perfect for resting on.”

He covered her hand with his own and leaned forward to press their mouths together. She drew his bottom lip in between her own, sucking a little and then giving it a quick peck before pulling back and stifling a yawn into his chest. “Man, I am tired.” She snuggled back into him and resumed her tummy tracing. “What, um— what else have you noticed?”

He rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her impossibly closer. “You like to play with my hair.”

“Mmmm, guilty as charged.”

He smiled at the sleep creeping into her voice. “I like it, too.” He ran his fingers up to her shoulder, and then back down to the crook of her arm, soothing her closer to sleep. “Hmmmm. You always have at least one point of contact on my body at all times. It’s usually your hands, but sometimes it’s your head or even your toes— like when you tuck them under my leg.”

“Ugh— I’m sorry. Clingy and putting my feet on you,” she mumbled.

She might have been joking, but Anita’s words were replaying in his head. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past. He couldn’t go back and prevent her from being hurt by someone else. But he could be different in every way. He could be open and honest and vulnerable with her like he’d promised.

“I’m not sorry. I love all of you,” he murmured, pulling her in closer and repeating her words back to her.

“Even my feet?”

He could also show her that there was absolutely nothing that he didn’t love about her. “Especially your feet.”

She huffed a sigh into his chest. “Y’got a foot thing I don’t know about?”

He laughed a little at that. “Only for yours. They’re very cute feet.”

“You’re weird,” she muttered, but she hugged him tighter when she said it.

“You love it.”

Her fingers on his tummy had come to rest comfortably just above his waistband, and he knew she was on the very edge of sleep. “Mmhm. Love you.”

He thought of all the little moments over the past few months.

Doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for overstepping. Are we dating? Sorry for being clingy. Sorry for taking so long to tell you. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “So much.”

———

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sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

Text

saturdays

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,467

summary: Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

warnings: Some swearing

a/n: This was my March 2020 one shot for my Patreon that they received early access to. Let me know what y’all think!

Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

Sundays are for sleeping in before eventually making his way to Brooklyn, where he picks up three bouquets and an egg, bacon, and cheese breakfast sandwich from Sal’s bodega before going to the cemetery. He sits against his sister’s tombstone—his parents’ to his right—and eats his late breakfast. He sits and talks for a few hours before leaving the flowers on their graves. He always has to have peonies, since those were Becca’s favorites.

Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are for training. He wakes up at five in the morning to go running with Sam, something he thought would end when Steve went back to be with Peggy Carter. But he wasn’t bitter. No.

But which thing he wasn’t bitter about, he’d never tell.

Along with the run, he spends most of the day sparring and battling simulations in the gym. He has short breaks for meals, but he pretty much is on go until after dinner, when he goes straight to bed.

But Fridays are his favorite. Because he gets to sleep in until nine-thirty in the morning, which is a luxury he’s not used to. Then Sam and him grab a late breakfast together before Bucky goes into the city for his therapy session.

And Bucky likes his therapist! Which he was really, really surprised about! But Marlene is good. Marlene is good because she doesn’t placate him. She calls him out on his shit, and pushes him forward. Because if it had been up to him, he would’ve stopped seeing her after their third meeting, when she had him drawing with fucking crayons that snapped in his hand way too easily. But it’s been over a year since he started seeing her, and even though he still has his bad days, his bad days now would’ve been his best days before.

“So, you think you’re finally ready to go through Rebecca’s things?” Marlene asks, looking at him with a peaceful expression.

“I don’t think so, I am,” he says firmly, feeling a rush of triumph as a smile spreads across her lips. “It’s time, you know?”

She nods in understanding, humming. “Do you have someone going with you?”

Usually, Sam would go with him for things like this, and just in general. They were attached at the hip, especially after the whole Steve leaving thing.

Yeah, they were both hit pretty hard with that.

“Yes, but I…” He sighs, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “I think this is something I need to do alone. At least, the going through her stuff part… But he is going with me to move the stuff to the Tower.”

“Good, good,” she says, her brows slightly furrowed. “And how are you feeling today about Steve leaving?”

Bucky lets out a huff of air, taking a moment to think about it. “To be completely honest with you… I’m kind of over it today. I have other things to do and yeah, I would’ve liked him to be here for it, but that’s not how it is. And him leaving is more about him than it is about me.” He shrugs, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Just because he decided to go back doesn’t mean he wanted to leave me.”

Marlene sets her clipboard to the side, a warm smile on her face. “Well, Bucky, I think we’ll end today on that thought.” She stands up, offering her hand for him to shake as she does everyday. “You’ve done well today. You should be proud of yourself.”

He leaves with a wave and a “See you next week!” as he always does.

He hadn’t known about the storage unit full of his sister’s stuff until about eight months ago, when he asked Maria Hill if there was anything left of hers. He knew that SHIELD had been the ones to take control of her assets when she had no children, since she was the sister of a Howling Commando and the best friend of Captain America.

Becca had died in December of 2013. He’d missed her by less than six months.

It was heartbreaking when he first found out, and still is, if he was being honest. But at least he has her stuff to go through, even though he has no idea what all is going to be in the storage unit. Stevie hadn’t had anything other than what the Smithsonian had snatched up.

The car ride to the storage facility is quiet, Sam at the wheel. Bucky still hasn’t gotten his license, since he doesn’t see a point. Why should he when there’s the subway and Uber and even just good old fashioned walking? “You’ve gotta save the Earth, Sam,” he says when he really feels like irritating the other man.

“You sure you’re ready for this, man?” Sam asks as they stand in front of storage unit 429.

“Yeah,” Buck says, punching in the key code and lifting up the door. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He flips the light switch on the wall, and is shocked by just how much stuff there is. There’s boxes upon boxes upon boxes.

Sam’s hands go to his hips as he looks at it, whistling. “Alright. Let’s get it loaded.”

It takes several hours and three trips to get everything from the storage unit to the Tower, and by the end of it, the both of them just collapse on the couch with a couple of beers and a pizza to share between them.

But Saturday morning comes bright and early, and even though it’s his only day out of the week where he has absolutely nothing to do, Bucky knows he has to start going through her things.

The first four boxes are just clothes. Clothes upon clothes upon clothes. He finds a baby blue dress that she used to wear for church, starched to perfection, and he holds it to his chest for a long time. He cries then.

And he knows that the fact that she’s hoarded so many clothes has a lot to do from growing up during the Depression. He still finds himself falling into old habits of checking the price of food, despite the fact that he never has to worry about money again with his Avengers salary and the backpay from being a POW.

He finds his parents’ wedding rings, and the string of pearls his ma wore for special occasions.

And then he finds an old shoe box, and when he opens it up, he finds letters. Letters upon letters upon letters. They’re in bundles, tied together with fraying ribbon. The paper is yellowed and soft from being folded and unfolded so many times, and he can see the looping black letters that covered the pages.

He takes the ones that look the oldest and unties them, he takes the top one from the stack and sets the rest to the side, before carefully unfolding it.

“Ruthie,” he says quietly as he reads the name at the bottom, not even bothering to read it yet. “Ruthie…” His eyes pop open as he suddenly remembers, remembers receiving letters everyday from a girl in the Bronx. They were never romantic, but it was nice being able to write to someone and not having to hide how bad it was, like he had to with his ma and Becca. She even sent her picture once, so he could know who he was writing to. “Ruthie!”

He spends the rest of the day reading the letters, and passes out sometime around four in the morning with his face on a letter. He takes the letters with him to his family’s graves the next day, reading to them after he replaces the flowers.

It takes him two more days to finish reading all the letters, in between breaks while training and staying up until he absolutely can’t.

He cries a lot while he reads it. He’s not afraid to admit that. But it’s nice to remember that he had a friend to listen to him during one of the worst times of his life.

Bucky’s almost afraid to look her up, to find out if she was still alive, and if he could go see her, to thank her. They wrote back and forth until the day he fell off the train, and he knows that had to be pretty jarring for her.

But then Sam finds out about the letters—it would be hard for him not to, considering that he was walking around with his nose in the letters for days—and it’s all over.

Turns out, she’s alive. She’s alive, and she’s still in Queens.

He goes the next Saturday, taking his bike all the way to the other borough. He looks a little intimidating and extremely different from how he looked back then, but he hopes she recognizes him. He really, really hopes she recognizes him, because otherwise this’ll be real awkward.

He stands in front of the door for a long time, taking his hands in and out of his pockets about eight times before he finally reaches up and knocks.

And then the door opens, and there’s Ruthie.

Well, not Ruthie, though at first glance, you’re the perfect picture of her. You’ve got her hair and her eyes, and the curve of her lips. But the nose is different.

“Can I help you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him. You’re wiping your hand on a hand towel, peering at him like you recognize him from somewhere but you don’t know where.

“Hi, uh,” he says slowly. His throat is suddenly so dry that he can barely talk. “I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes. I was pen pals with—”

He’s cut off by Ruthie herself appearing in the doorway. She’s much older—she is ninety-nine, after all—but it’s definitely her. “Did you say Bucky Barnes?” The little old lady’s eyes widened as she saw him, her hand over her heart. “Oh, my stars, it’s really you. I heard about what happened to you, and I…” She shakes her head, clicking her tongue. “Why, it almost gave me a heart attack, you know.”

“Little Ruthie Pratt from Queens,” he says, reaching in his pocket and holding up the letters. “I found these while, uh, going through my sister’s stuff.”

“I still have mine!” Ruthie says, pulling him inside.

It’s nice and homey and everything that Bucky had thought it would be. The front foyer is covered in photos, and there’s quite a few of you. You’re clearly one of Ruthie’s pride and joys, if the sheer amount of them has anything to do about it.

“I used to read these to my grandbaby here,” Ruthie says as she comes back with an old oak jewelry box in hand. “Anytime she stayed the night—her parents worked a lot when she was growing up—she always asked me to read her one of my ‘Bucky letters.’”

“Grandmama,” you say, cheeks flushing as you avoid his eyes.

“It was so cute! She used to recite them word for word along with me!” Ruthie teases as they go to the living room.

It’s quaint, with soft pastel colors dominating the room. He sits on a floral sofa that’s got a circle with dark hair on it, the marking of a furry friend’s favorite spot. He watches as you move to the kitchen, grabbing a pitcher of what looks like tea and a few glasses.

You sit beside her with the ease of knowing that you belong here, pouring yourself a glass. “Grandmama, do you want some tea?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she opens the box and looks for the oldest one. “You keep that monstrosity away from me,” she says. Seemingly remembering Bucky’s presence, she says, “My daughter’s husband is from Louisiana. Ridiculous man got both her and my grandbaby addicted to that absolute sludge.”

The secret smile you give him as the two of you listen to her tirade about sweet tea makes him feel at ease, and sets the tone for the rest of the afternoon.

Things go on as normal, or as normal as they can.

And Marlene happens to think that all of this is absolutely fantastic for him. She loves that he’s now spending time with Ruthie and you, reconnecting with his past while understanding that he doesn’t have to be the person he was in the letters.

He’s different. He’s not the Bucky that Ruthie knew back then.

It’s an unusually warm day in November four months later when he takes you out for a coffee, just the two of you. And it isn’t a date—really, it isn’t—but he finds himself wanting it to be about halfway through his second coffee.

And that’s why he starts talking about dating to Marlene, who had, quite frankly, been waiting for him to realize his feelings for a while.

“I think I’m in love with her,” he says as he storms into his therapy session, eyes wild and hair a disarray. He’s clearly been worrying real hard about it.

Marlene looks up at him, peering over the silver rim of her glasses. “Oh, really?” She says nonchalantly, as though she doesn’t have you in her notes about him. “And why is that?”

Bucky can’t help the frown on his face as he realizes that she didn’t even ask who he was talking about, because she knew. “I… I don’t know,” he says, slumping into his usual chair. “She makes me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. And she always makes me laugh, even at the most inappropriate of times.” His gaze softens the more he thinks about you. “And she isn’t scared of me. She doesn’t judge me. She’s read about everything I did in the war, even before HYDRA, and she doesn’t care.” His hands are sweating as he rubs them together. “Actually, it’s not that she doesn’t care—she does care—but she cares because she… she loves me.”

You love him. And sure, he knows that. You’ve said that you love him multiple times, even if you only mean it as a friend way.

But the thought that he has someone who loves him that doesn’t have to is… groundbreaking.

“She loves me, and she wants me to be okay,” he says, looking up at Marlene then.

His therapist has a pleased look in her eyes, even if she won’t let it show with a smile. “I think she’s good for you,” she says simply, her pen held loosely in her hand. “Are you seeing her again soon?”

“I’m seeing her tomorrow night,” he says, his heart growing light. “We’re grabbing a few drinks to celebrate her finally graduating from cosmetology school.”

It’s a big deal for you, completely something. You’re smart, there’s no denying that, but when it comes to schooling… You’d done well in high school, but college proved to be the bane of your existence.

You’d dropped out in the middle of your junior year, and that had been it. You’d moved to Queens to live with Ruthie after, working various low level jobs and trying to find something that fit.

But you’d fit in at cosmetology school. Hell, you excelled. And you enjoyed it! You enjoyed waking up in the morning and going to your classes!

You cried when you got your certificate, and it was now framed in Ruthie’s house until you start your first salon job in two weeks.

“Are you going to tell her about your feelings?” Marlene asks curiously.

Now that makes him pause.

“... Should I?” Bucky asks, feeling a wave of anxiety coming over him. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way? And she sees me as just a friend?”

“If she’s really your friend, she won’t abandon you just because you tell her you have romantic feelings for her.”

“You sure about that?”

Marlene fixes him with a look, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Fine. You’re sure,” he says, slumping a little in his chair. “Doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

She snorts, making a note on her pad. “I never said it was going to be easy, Bucky. Doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

The next night, he spends an hour and a half trying to decide what to wear. “It shouldn’t be this hard,” he grumbles as he switches shirts for the forty-ninth time. “It’s just drinks.”

Sam, however, is having a great time watching his new best friend freak out over seeing a girl for the first time. “I mean, she already agreed to going out with your ugly mug, man. It’s not gonna matter what you wear.”

And in some way, that helps. A little.

But he does have to threaten Sam with bodily harm if he spies on his date that’s not really a date.

He almost boxes him the ear when he insists for the fourth time that it’s a date.

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers from Sal’s bodega, the buttons of his dark blue henley left open, exposing a smattering of chest hair.

When you open the door, the air is knocked from his lungs. You look absolutely radiant. The light from the sinking sun is giving you a halo-like glow, and he’s sure, not for the first time, that you’re an actual angel.

“Hi,” you say, a flush on your cheeks as you see the flowers. “Are those… Are those for me?”

He nods dumbly, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. “Y-Yes,” he says, pushing them into your arms. “As a congrats. For, you know, graduating. And stuff.”

“Thank you,” you say as you take them, handing them to Ruthie.

She’s standing just inside the door, a giddy look on her face as she holds the flowers, watching you take the motorcycle helmet from his hands. “Have her back by twelve!”

“Grandmama!”

“Fine! Twelve-thirty!”

You’re clearly embarrassed by her antics as he helps you on behind him, guiding your arms around his waist.

“You ready?” He asks, his voice breathy.

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he starts the bike, taking off.

“She doesn’t actually mean that,” you say as he leads you into the tiny, out of the way bar. You’re fixing your hair, trying your best to appear presentable. “I’m grown, you know. I don’t… I don’t have a curfew.”

A slow smile spreads over his lips as he listens to you ramble. “I know,” he says finally, figuring he should put you out of your misery. “Ruthie does like to tease those she loves.”

The bar is quaint, clearly a local place that tourists haven’t invaded. He leads you to a high table, calling out your order to the lone bartender.

“So, I—”

“I like you,” Bucky says, unintentionally cutting you off with a wince. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I really, really like you, and I really, really want this to be a date, but if you don’t feel the same way then I completely understand and we can just forget that I ever said anything and everything can just go back to normal and that might be the best thing because, quite frankly, I haven’t dated since the forties and I have no idea how dating is supposed to work nowadays, but I’d really like to try it with you but only if you—”

His rambling is cut off as you place your hand on his, intertwining your fingers. “Okay,” you say, like it’s the easiest thing ever. “It’s a date.”

He stares at you for an embarrassingly long time, his mouth dry. “Uh… What?” He says quietly. His heart is pounding at an unnaturally fast pace, and he honestly thinks he might be on the verge of a heart attack.

“I like you, too,” you say, smiling at the bartender as he brings you over your drinks. You look so beautiful, your eyes the brightest thing in the dim lighting of the bar. “So this is a date.”

“Okay,” he breathes out, a wave of relief washing over him. “It’s a date.”

He’s a little starstruck as you continue on with what you were going to say before, a pink blush dusting his cheeks. Your hand stays in his for the rest of the night, occasionally giving a little squeeze as though you’re reminding him that you’re still there and you’re not going to disappear.

And it feels good.

And okay, Marlene may have been right.

And yeah, Fridays might be good. But as he sits there with you until the late hours of the night, he’s sure: Saturdays are his new favorite day. Because Saturdays brought him a new beginning when he wasn’t expecting it.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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silhouetteofacedar · 3 years

Text

Impersonal, Ch. 7

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, Rated E

The game had ended and he wasn’t surprised.

He expected this. He prepared himself all day Saturday by running six miles, jacking off twice, and mopping his entire apartment. He didn’t even own a mop; he actually went out and bought one. By the time Sunday morning rolled around he was ready for the inevitable collapse of their precarious sexual arrangement and greeted Scully with aplomb.

And then she paid for breakfast.

That was unexpected. When the FBI wasn’t footing the bill, they usually split the tab, or threw a “you can get the next one” down on the table alongside crumpled bills.

He had been joking about it being a date, but then she paid. And it meant something. Her big blue eyes pinned him to the booth, had him trapped and squirming like an insect on a card as she laid a hand over the check. “I’ve got it,” she said, and his senses were suddenly ignited. He could feel thick sunshine pouring over them, lighting up Scully’s hair like a smudge of cinnamon. Her lips looked so sweet and soft, and the very idea that he might never feel them again stole his breath. He felt dry and empty, a desiccated housefly body lying on a windowsill.

He thanked her for breakfast, and his throat was lined with dust.

Their parting was weird. Hinting that he was still available to her was an insane risk, and she turned it into a joke about Frohike. Unless she actually thought he was the one joking about Frohike, which he has to admit wouldn’t be out of character for him.

He’s tired of joking, tired of hiding, tired of dancing around his intentions. Tired of wanting and not asking, tired of being in his own damn way.

Scully has given him a graceful exit, a neatly drawn map back to their pre-sex starting point. And not for the first time, Mulder wads up the map and tosses it aside. Scully made her move; it was time for him do the same.

What that move would be, he has no idea.

It takes him eleven days. No wonder Scully took matters into her own hands the first time around. Inspiration strikes him during his drive from Alexandria to D.C. the next Thursday morning, when he crosses the Potomac and gets a glimpse of faraway blossoms.

He waits until 4:47 that afternoon to say anything.

“Hey Scully, you doing anything tonight?” he asks, rifling through a stack of papers as though he’s attending to FBI business and not trying to work up courage like a schoolboy.

Her glossy red head is bent over a file, pen at her lip. “Besides folding an obscenely large pile of laundry, my schedule seems fairly empty,” she replies. She looks up at him suspiciously. “Why, Mulder?”

“No reason, really. There’s just something I wanted to show you, get your opinion on.”

“Is it related to a case?”

He opens a desk drawer, pretending to look for something. “Well it could be a totally natural phenomenon, but who can say for certain without proper investigation?”

Scully sighs. “Fine, I’ll bite. And speaking of bites, I’m starving. If we’re going to work off the clock, can we at least eat?”

“Wanna stop for Chinese? We can take it with us. We’re not going far, the food should still be hot when we get to our secondary location.”

They take Mulder’s car, picking up several cartons of food from a restaurant in Chinatown a few blocks up from the Hoover building before making their way towards the National Mall. Mulder parks in the lot near the Washington Monument.

“You weren’t kidding when you said we weren’t going far,” Scully says, gathering up the bag of takeout. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“That,” he replies, pointing ahead.

Hundreds of cherry trees line the Tidal Basin, their leaves almost entirely obscured by tufts of blossoms. Scully steps onto the path, open-mouthed.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs.

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Pretty fantastic, huh?”

“Mulder,” she says in awe, looking sideways at him, “What are we doing here?”

He shrugs. “I just wanted to see them.”

“At night?”

“Daylight’s for tourists, Scully.”

———

They’re sitting on the damp grass, endeavoring to split the last egg roll using only their dueling pairs of chopsticks.

“This is impossible, Scully. I’m going to use my hands.”

“Then I definitely don’t want the other half,” she says.

“Are you implying something about my hygiene?”

“I’ve seen some of the places your hands have been, Mulder.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Not what I meant,” she says softly. “But the point still stands.”

Mulder lays back on the lawn, his long coat fanning wide. Scully pulls an edge of it towards her, scoots closer so she can rest her pantyhose-clad calves on it instead of the grass.

“I’ve always preferred the blossoms at night,” he says. “There’s something ghostly about them, all pink and white against the dark sky. Not an ominous kind of ghostly, however; if good spirits exist, I think they’d look like these trees. You know most early European religions feature some sort of reverence for trees or forests, whether as spiritual gathering places or deities themselves-“

“Mulder.”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to eat that egg roll, or can I have it?”

He passes her the carton. “And-”

“Why did you bring me here, Mulder?”

He glances at her and is surprised to see a tenderness in her eyes. His gaze returns to the branches above.

“I just figured I owe you a nice trip to a forest, and this one won’t require any paperwork.”

Scully smiles. “That’s a very considerate choice, Mulder, especially since I’m always the one doing said paperwork.”

“You’re more succinct and readable than I am, apparently. And Skinner clearly likes you better.”

“Didn’t you punch him in the face once?”

“That’s beside the point. I think he has a bit of a crush on you, Scully.”

She rolls her eyes. “What?” Mulder asks.

“I just… it’s nothing, It’s been a long day. And it’s cold out here.”

Mulder sits up and withdraws his arms from the sleeves of his overcoat.

“No- Mulder, don’t, I’m fine.”

“Move your legs,” he instructs, pulling the edge of the coat out from under her. He stands and drapes it around her shoulders before plopping back down on the grass next to her.

“Thanks,” she says. “Still, it’s getting late.”

He glances at his watch. “It’s seven-thirty on a Thursday. You got somewhere to be?” His arm bumps her shoulder companionably. “Come on, just a little longer. Maybe we’ll see something unidentified in the sky.”

He grins at her and the corner of her mouth twitches in reply. “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice,” she sighs. “You drove us here.”

He feels a slight increase of pressure against his arm and realizes that Scully is ever so slightly leaning into him. A gentle warmth glows in his belly, and he glances sidelong at her.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, he thinks.

“How so?” Scully asks.

Oh. He said it out loud. He clears his throat, tries to steer his thoughts back into safer waters.

“Well, for one thing, I’m not dead,” he says. “Not for lack of trying.”

Scully nods solemnly.

“I’ve seen incredible things, things people spend their whole lives looking for, hoping for, believing in. I’ve tasted proof, held the truth in my hands. And in spite of everything, I’m still here. We’re still here. That’s pretty goddamn lucky.”

“I don’t feel very lucky,” Scully says softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve fucked up every good thing I’ve ever had a chance at. My father certainly thought so, at least for a long time.”

They sit silently for a moment. “Without you, I’d be long dead,” Mulder admits.

“I know,” Scully replies. “I’m always awed by your resilience, actually. I can’t take all the credit for your continued survival.”

“Yeah, you can,” he says, getting to his feet and dusting stray blades of grass off his slacks. He holds out a hand and helps her to her feet. Her fingers are cool against his palm, and he wonders if she’d notice if he didn’t let go. Probably.

He wants to pull her in by the lapels of his coat, gather her to his chest, hold her for no reason other than he can. Kiss her brow, smell her hair, feel her small hands sliding under his suit jacket. He wants her just as she is, for exactly who she is.

But he’s a chickenshit, so instead he just walks beside her along the Tidal Basin, under the cherry blossoms, and doesn’t hold her hand.

They spend the five minute drive back to the Bureau in comfortable silence. Scully leans her head against the car window, and Mulder briefly wonders if she’ll fall asleep. He loves when she nods off while he’s driving; it makes him feel safe. She makes him feel safe.

He parks a few spots away from her car in the Bureau parking garage, turns off the engine. Scully gathers up her briefcase, leaving Mulder’s coat draped open on the passenger seat.

“Why are you getting out?” she asks, seeing Mulder unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I need a file from the office,” he lies. He exits the car and goes around to her side. “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s on my way.”

It’s twenty feet from her car to his. “Thank you, Mulder,” Scully says sardonically, fishing her keys out of her coat pocket. “If I weren’t armed, that would have been very thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies. He takes a step forward.

“What are you doing?” Scully asks, one hand on her car door, keys in the other.

“Nothing,” he replies quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” God, she’s so small, this could so easily go wrong-

He pitches forward, bending down, and presses his lips to the fullness of her cheek. His nose brushes the soft skin under her eye and he inhales sharply, drawing back.

They blink at each other. “Bye,” Mulder offers.

Scully nods. “Yes. Goodnight.” She glances to the elevators. “Was there actually a file you needed?”

He just looks at her, and she presses her lips together in understanding. “Right. Well, I’m leaving, so… see you tomorrow then.”

Right. Despite recent events, the earth was still spinning.

Later, when he hangs his overcoat, he notices the faintest scent of her shampoo on the collar.

#awwwwwwwww they're so awkward and dumb #impersonal #my fic #txf fic #xfiles #msr #slow burn #also pls listen to 'Agape' by Nicolas Britell while reading this chapter it's the Vibe

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monsterywriting · 3 years

Text

Thenerius - pt 1

masterlist

word count: 4,555

male tiefling x female reader

AN: this is planned as a two-parter, like Adam, just super long because i want to make “shorter” (i.e. not a bunch of parts) stories so i can keep up better.

The Deep was a small inn with an attached tavern overlooking the ocean about an hour’s ride from the nearby port city of Alfore. The location was not entirely by accident, or so your boss claims, and it definitely was not a miscalculation of Alfore’s outward expansion when purchasing the land.

Nevertheless, against all odds, Mr. Thistle’s business managed to prevail despite the city’s outer limits remaining largely unchanged for the better part of a decade. His secret to paying his taxes on time was largely thanks to his clientele, taking in those not traditionally welcome within the city limits. To put it bluntly, pirates.

It was your second year working at The Deep but your entire life had been spent within it’s pine walls, your mother having worked here before you. Though you weren’t quite used to being a worker there, there was one thing of which you were certain: you have made more gold in these two years than you had with the salary of a scribe for the capital’s archives in five.

Whenever a pirate crew blew in with the with the sea breeze, the drunken tips of coin and jewelry of dubious origins were almost worth the whirlwind of destruction left in the wake of their days-long benders.

But at present, that period of prosperity was still months away and you were currently struggling to clean the tavern when all you wanted was to curl up in front of the fire on the far side of the room.

There weren’t many guests staying overnight this time of year, whatever handful of travelers entering Alfore by land were willing to stop so close to their destination, but the tavern was never truly empty.

You relaxed slightly as you approached the fireplace, taking your time dusting the mantel as the heat thawed your freezing body.

It was about two-thirds of the way into your third straight shift, the night before having started off promising. A rare merchant ship’s crew stopped by the tavern for the evening at the end of your first trip, but the tips hadn’t been impressive so you had agreed to stay and help the morning shift expecting the clean up to be worse than it actually was.

With over an hour left in your shift, everything was spotless and you had little else to do but pretend to dust as close to the fireplace as you could.

A tap on your shoulder nearly made you topple over the old trinkets on the mantel, Lenora giggling at your reaction behind you. She was a pretty young woman, clearly descending at least in part from the sea, though you never asked her any specifics.

“I hope winter ends early this year,” she sighed, setting down an armful of cleaned mugs on the bar counter, “I hardly got any tips last night, and those assholes ran me ragged filling their ales! Even the pirates would at least leave a gold coin a piece for that!”

“Tova willing,” You snort, slipping behind the bar and stowing the mugs away in their place underneath the counter, inclined to agree with Lenora before a yawn escaped you, your hand quickly covering your mouth as you were unable to contain it.

“You should go sleep in my room for a bit,” she suggested gently, wiping down the wet spots where the mugs had been with her rag, “We’re pretty much finished and you had a long night.”

“I’m fine,” you replied tersely, unwilling to admit how tempting the offer was, “my shift’s almost over.”

Before Lenora could argue with you, Thistle poked his head out of his office and called you into it.

By the time you entered the cramped room - once an extra supply closet - he was already behind his desk, writing something furiously that you couldn’t see over the towering stacks of papers surrounding him

Mr. Thistle was a halfling, the only one you’d ever seen even among all the people at the port. You didn’t know much about them, other than what you observed from your boss. Despite his youthful appearance, you knew for a fact he was much older than he appeared. And, in his case, his personality very much fit his namesake, his tongue and wit both sharper than perhaps was wise.

“What are you still doing here? Your shift ended an hour ago,” Mr. Thistle didn’t look up from his paperwork, his voice sounding almost bored, though you had known him long enough to recognize that it wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“You agreed to let me take on more shifts last month, Mr. Thistle,” you answered.

“You have been here for twenty-four straight hours,” Mr. Thistle frowned, “Rose will kill me for overworking you once she’s well enough to visit.”

You swallowed a growing lump in your throat, shaking your head emphatically, “Please, sir, at least let me finish this shift. You know I’ll work hard and I need the money…”

“Sir? When have you ever called me that?” He spat, but you knew him well enough to know he was cracking, “Fine, finish your shift. But you’re out of here by noon! And I don’t want to see you again until next weekend.”

“Thank you!” You said as you walked out the room, deciding to get one last word in over your shoulder before slamming the door shut behind you, “You’re the best god-dad, sir!”

Just as you returned to the bar with a new vigor, the bell hanging above the tavern entrance rang as it was struck by the opening door.

You and Lenora glanced at each other before turning to see who had arrived at such an odd time of day and season.

“Thenerius!” You cried out once you saw exactly who was ducking down to pass through the entryway without his horns knocking into the doorframe, exaggerated cheer masking your shock at seeing the pirate captain in the middle of winter.

He smirked as he strode up to the bar, his purple hand lifting to dig around his breast pocket for a bag of gold he dropped on the counter for you to take. You quickly hand it off to Lenora to put in the inn’s safe, ignoring her not-so-subtle wink at you and practically skip into the kitchen to help pass out the first round of ales.

You weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, all too happy to greet any customer you knew had gold and play the part of eye candy for them.

Any boredom or exhaustion you felt from your back to back shifts vanished as the solution to your stress magically appeared before you.

Thinking ahead, you save Thenerius’ table for last and no sooner do you set down the four pitchers of ales you’d been carrying is the tiefling pulling you down to sit on his lap. You quickly slide off to sit at his side, allowing him to keep an arm around you. You feel a bit self conscious, knowing you probably smell worse for wear after three straight shifts, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he downs his first mug of ale.

Glancing around, you note that the other crew members didn’t look nearly as jovial to be here in the snow as their captain did. It was definitely dangerous to be navigating the waters this far north this time of year, the winds less reliable and ice tending to form bergs out where there was no hope for rescue, not to mention that pirates tended to stick to the beaches in the south while they waited for winter to pass.

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, unable to hide your curiosity at how two out-of-season crews managed to stop at the inn, this one more surprising than the merchants.

“The winds were favorable,” Thenerius beamed down at you, though that still didn’t answer the question of why they’d want to leave the south now of all times. Seemingly sensing your dissatisfaction with the answer, he flung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, his voice lowering to a hushed whisper that tickled the shell of your ear, “and I simply had to come see my treasure as soon as I could.”

You giggle and pretend to turn your head in a bashful display, inwardly cringing at the nickname. You’re all too happy, however, to accept Thenerius’ hand slipping into your skirts and feel gold pieces clinking together as he drops the coins into your pocket. You accept his flirting and flirt back yourself, tolerating his occasionally hand fondling as he laughed and drank all night. Well, that made it sound more lecherous than it actually was.

Thenerius was obsessed with your hands, feeling the pads of your fingers and rubbing circles on the back of them. You had asked him why when he first asked you if he could hold them, having stared at them constantly before then. He said because they were soft, and you understood. Your hands were no dainty things, the beginnings of some callouses here and there, especially where you held your pen, but they were like a newborn’s in comparison to his, roughened from working on boats his entire adult life.

He also demanded a lot of your attention, constantly keeping conversations with you going when you wished nothing more than to just sit there and fall asleep from his ministrations. Nevertheless, you’d complement Thenerius and look impressed as he recounts the harrowing adventures he’d experienced in the past year and dutifully feel his new scars on his already scar-riddled body in feigned awe.

The man had an ego the size of a small island, an easy enough thing to stroke in order to get a better haul of tips at the end of it all. Other’s also provide company as you are, you even catch Lenora’s eye with a smile as she leads a minotaur into the inn portion of the building. You resist the urge to shake your head, unable to believe she was turning in so early in the day. Mr. Thistle definitely wouldn’t approve, but you were no snitch.

Though, you never let Thenerius get that close to you, drawing the line whenever the tiefling attempted to push the envelope of acceptable public behavior, acting coy when you needed to and sometimes only narrowly managing to avoid his attacking lips by keeping his mouth busy downing more ale.

He was even more clingy than the ones who just wanted to fuck you, but dealing with Captain Thenerius of the Red Night was second nature to you now, well worth the flirting game you two have played for the past two years. Just keep him company until he was piss drunk, and then it was easy enough to extract yourself from his grasp and actually help the others run the tavern. He was by far the customer with the loosest purse strings, always throwing gold around like he were some purple holiday saint.

The constant boasting and drunken attempts at kissing were turn-offs even with his admittedly handsome features when sober. But, he was about as harmless as you were willing to think a pirate, never demanding more of you in the carnal sense, and he was constantly slipping you extra coins, so you remained pleasant.

Realistically, you knew the gold was more likely than not blood money, given his occupation. However, it made no difference to you where the money came from so long as it ended up in your pocket, and the tiefling only ever sought you out when he visited.

You coo at Thenerius’ virility as he flexed before you, your hands on his bicep and nodding along with whatever he told you, both of you ignoring how his crew was gagging and groaning at your cavity-inducing display.

You truly had one person to thank for your position as the pirate captain’s favorite in The Deep: Paloma, a former worker at the tavern herself before she fell pregnant and got married. Once she knew she would no longer be working at The Deep, she had introduced you.

Frankly, the tiefling had shown no interest in you at first, his eyes never straying from Paloma as she worked bringing out supper. It had been awkward - you had barely started working at the inn after emerging from the archives where your only contact with another soul had been through books written by long-dead authors. You had not yet perfected the art of flirting with customers, and you definitely weren’t one to fight for a man’s attention.

It was by pure luck you happened recognize the origin of one of Thenerius’ rings, and even more luck that his attention had actually been on the on the table shuffling a deck of cards when you commented on it, the ensuing conversation what finally got you on his radar.

However, even as you grew comfortable falling into the role of companion for the pirate whenever he blew into town, you were never so foolish as to fall for him or any of the other pirates from different crews that took a shining to you, as some of the other girls were prone to do.

You held no illusion that the Thenerius that would cuddle you like a child would their favorite toy after a few pitchers of ale was born out of anything more than loneliness from a pirate who was likely holding his first warm body after months at sea. And who knew whose body he held after months going back to the other side of the world.

Even if the visits were like clockwork, it was only a few weeks out of the year and their free spirits and lifestyles only spelled heartbreak for those whose lives were spent on land.

And even you could appreciate the fun of the pastime. It definitely wasn’t torture; Thenerius was on the handsomer end of the pirate spectrum, meticulously looking after his appearance and general health even on long stretches at sea. It was hard to tell how much older than you he was, his appearance both rugged from the sea and boyish from his mannerisms, and his choice in outfits were… colorful, to say the least, always wearing the most expensive fabrics he acquired during his travels - which somehow always tended to be the gaudiest.

Though you would never allow yourself to fall for him, maybe you would have at least bedded him had he not ended every night shitfaced, though that bit was partially your doing.

After an hour, and Thenerius is relying on the wall to stay upright more than himself, you try to slip out of the booth as quietly as you can. However, just as you’re about to stand, arms suddenly snake around your waist and pull you ungracefully back down. An undignified yelp escapes you, and it takes all your willpower to not let your instinct to fight against your captor win.

Once you turn, he is staring quite intensely at you, though he fortunately makes no attempt to kiss you. Involuntarily, you begin to turn red at his scrutiny, knowing pretty words won’t placate the tiefling on the rare occasions he goes completely silent like this.

“My shift is almost over,” you whisper, awkwardly pulled an arm out from Thenerius’ hold to pat his cheek gently, “I have to go.”

To your surprise, Thenerius actually lets go on the first try. However, he also rose to his feet and followed you out the tavern and to the stables. He was silent as he watched you ready your horse, so quiet you may have forgotten he was there had you not felt his stare upon your so sharply. Just as you passed him leading your horse out into the courtyard believing Thenerius to just be drunk, he calls out to you.

You stop in the courtyard, looking up at the tiefling in curiosity as his hand dove into his coat pocket to pull out a beautifully intricate golden ring with emeralds encrusted along the braided band.

Normally, your weren’t a fan of such gifts, preferring more liquid assets over something so valuable that you were expected to keep and wear in front of the giver. However, you found yourself making an exception as the ring was so breathtaking you needed to put on no act as you thanked Thenerius and took it carefully from his calloused fingers.

“I love it,” you smiled, trying the ring on each finger until it slid snugly down your right index. You presented the ring to the pirate captain, laughing as you watched his tail swishing behind him and the way his entire expression lit up seeing you wear his gift.

“Actually,” Thenerius cleared his throat, sounding almost nervous as he took your hands in his before you could climb onto your horse, and you cursed your heart for leaping into your throat as his thumb stroked lazy circles over your knuckles.

You manage not to wrench your hands out of Thenerius’ sudden grasp, watching as his thumb and forefinger slowly pull the ring off your right hand. The confusion must be apparent on your face as he chuckled and whispered reassurances as he transferred the ring to your left hand, the fourth finger before your pinky.

It took you a moment of staring to register what was happening, your body only kickstarting into action when Thenerius was in the process of kneeling before you, “I was hoping to do this tonight in front of my crew, but if you’re leaving now-”

Like an automaton finally kicking to life, you took in a gasping breath and closed your fists around the collar of Thenerius’ coat, not caring how you appeared as you pulled him back up before his knee could touch the dusty ground and there was evidence of what was about to transpire.

He fought against you at first, but when you growled out a stern “stop!” he allowed you to haul him back to his feet.

“What’s wrong?” Thenerius had the nerve to look hurt as you yanked the ring off your finger and shove it back into his hand.

“What’s wrong? You’re proposing to me, damn it!” You nearly shouted, managing to curb your temper despite doubting anyone inside would be able to hear you.

You were teetering a dangerous edge, yelling as you were at a pirate of all people, and who knows what he did to get the damned ring, but you were too caught up in your own anger to care that he could easily kill you where you stood. You were too busy feeling as though your world was crashing around you. Things were good. Why did he have to go and ruin it all by doing this? Why couldn’t he just… continue your game in perpetuity. It wasn’t the first proposal you’ve gotten at work, but it was definitely the one that hurt the most.

“I love you,” Thenerius croaked, “I thought-”

“Love? You must be out of your damned mind,” you scoff in disbelief, “You’ve only seen me three times in two years. less than four weeks total. And you’re proposing? You love anyone who bats their eyelashes at you for gold?”

“That’s not true,” Thenerius said, appearing so stricken by your episode you had to avert your eyes to the sheer pain in his own, “You didn’t do it for the gold. You care for me as deeply as I care for you.”

You turn to your saddle, pulling out a burlap sack from your bag and forcing it open. You pull out a tangle of jewelry, necklaces, earrings, even a ring or two.

“I needed the gold, that’s it.”

Thenerius stares blankly at you, and you take his distraction as an opportunity to jump on your horse and ride off.

You don’t slow until you knew The Deep was far behind you, finally allowing your mare to walk the rest of the way home once you’re confident you put enough space between you and the pirate. You didn’t relax until you saw the familiar barn roof above the treetops ahead.

“I’m home!” You called from the doorway, immediately struck by the stillness of the house as unease settled deep in the pit of your stomach.

Pushing back the unpleasant thoughts, certain it was rooted in what had transpired at work, you ventured deeper into the cottage, making your way to the bedroom.

“Mother?” Your call goes unanswered as you enter, smiling softly when you saw her still wrapped up in the bed.

The fire on the far side of the room was burning low, so you threw another log in it before going to sit on the chair at the side of the bed to remove your work clothes.

Just as you were about to crawl into bed, you notice the open book still by your mother and walked around to grab it. It was an old book you immediately recognized, the hand-drawn illustrations and worn pages all too familiar from your childhood. You carefully mark her place with the torn piece of paper she always used and set it on her bedside table.

Glancing at your mother, now closer, you couldn’t help the uneasiness that crept back to the forefront of you mind as you realized how peacefully she was sleeping.

No rattling breathing, no tossing or turning, none of what had plagued your mother’s nights since she first fell ill. A chill ran up your spine as you reached out a tentative hand to brush against her cheek, relief making your legs weak when she grunts at your disturbance and rolls over onto her back.

“What is it?” She yawned, starting to emerge from her blanket cocoon.

“Nothing, I just got back,” you whispered, smoothing back her hair from her eyes, “Have you taken your medicine today?”

She nodded, already drifting off again. You sighed, any thought of sleep gone from your mind from the scare.

You decide to spend the rest of the day outside, finishing all the chores that had piled up while you were gone. First, you had to clean your horse’s hooves, then feed the chickens and gather their eggs, milk your goats and finally take the cured meat our of your small smokehouse.

It was still strange being home, even after so much time had passed since leaving your life at the capital. You had once swore you’d never return to the tiny cottage, leaving to make your own way in this world.

But circumstance led you back home, despite making many offers to have your mother move in with you at the capital. She insisted, however, that she preferred the peace and quiet the country offered her, though you knew in truth she couldn’t leave the home your father had built, the memories and perhaps some buried hope that he may one day return for her keeping her firmly rooted.

By the time you were able to turn in for the day, you were completely drained of all energy. In truth, your exhaustion had begun to catch up to you once you went into the barn to bring your horse out, but you had persevered to finish everything that needed to be done.

Rather than immediately knock out as you wanted, you sat at the table and counted your coins from your past few shifts.

“That’s a lot more than I ever made in two days,” your mother hummed, glancing over your shoulder as she made her way from the kitchen to set two plates filled with steaming food in front of you.

“It was a busy couple days,” you smile. If she notices how strained it is, your mother makes no comment, “I’ll have enough to buy enough medicine for the next few months.”

“I hope that means you’ll finally take some time off,” she huffed, “I’m beginning to forget I don’t live alone anymore.”

“Mr. Thistle banned me from going back to The Deep until next weekend,” you chuckle, feeling a small bit of tension release from your shoulders at how your mother’s face lit up at the mention of her old friend.

“Oh, how is Aedan?” She asked excitedly. She was the only person brave enough to cll Thistle by his first name, or at least the only one he allowed to live afterwards.

“You know, we’d all feel better if you moved into the inn,” you said, not looking up as you deposited your final coin into your purse, knowing your mother’s response before she even spoke.

“For the last time, I’m not leaving my home and neither you or Aedan are going to convince me any different,” she said, her voice rising until a coughing fit overtaking her.

You grimaced as you watched her body curl in on itself, her entire frame shaking with the coughs. Still, you made no move to help, knowing she would only wave you off.

You bit back everything you wished to say, fighting the urge to shake her and tell her the man who abandoned both of you was never coming back, that it was dangerous for her to stay here by herself.

“I’m going to bed,” you say instead, taking your half-eaten plate to the sink and dropping the rest into the scrap pile for the chickens.

As you lay in bed, you turn your head to look at the book your mother had been reading. It was a collection of fairytales, the same book she used to read to you to sleep as a young child. You had loved it back then, the stories of a wily pirate crew’s adventures in far off lands.

Once you grew older and could read the dedication on the blank space of the cover page, you’d refused to listen to the stories any longer, though your mother would still stay up late to read its pages alone.

It had been a gift from your father to you as a baby, before he stopped showing back up. He couldn’t resist the call of the sea, a pirate at heart, your mother had said, but he would return to the two of you one day. You scoffed.

Reaching over, you pull the book onto your lap, flipping the cover open in the lamplight. You stared down at the elegant ink script, the looping cursive rivaling that of even the senior scribes in your prior occupation but remaining as secretive as ever.

You once wondered what your father thought as he wrote the small paragraph, if he knew he would leave your mother at the same time he professed his love and hope for you. Now, you had too many other things to worry about to remain bitter over someone who may well have long since forgotten you.

You mind wanders for a moment, a purple face with lovestruck eyes crossing your consciousness for a moment you quickly stifle, an underdeveloped question cut short before it could fully form and haunt you. You place the book back to where your mother kept it, finally able to keep your eyes closed once your head hits your pillow.

Would he leave, too? And then, nothing.

part 2

#exophilia #reader insert #tiefling boyfriend #tiefling

161 notes · View notes

im-whatchamccallit · 3 years

Text

Circles//Kim Doyoung (NCT 127)

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Series/Multiple parts, Mafia/Crime!AU, Suggestive, Angst, Fluff, Potential Smut in future chapters

Warnings: Suggestive content, mention of guns and murder, mentions of the mafia and organized crime

Word Count: 4.5k

(A/N: So, like I said in one of my last post, I’m trying to start a series so that I will have a reason to post more often and not let this blog die the way I did before. Only problem? This was the first thing that came to mind and I’ve been terrified it won’t do well so please leave feedback if you like it so I know to continue it. This is also my first NCT 127 post so... Yay! Also, I recently read about how taboo a lot of people think the mafia/crime AUs are in fanfiction and I want to be cautious of their feelings in regards to this which is why I also haven’t posted it but I just want to post something while getting out of my writers block. But, again, leave feedback on whether you love it or hate it, leave request if you want, anything’s appreciated.)

Masterlist|Guidelines

You’ve seen elegance but never at this level, eyes glued to the ceiling that seemed to reach heights you could only dream of, not even thirty basketball players stacked onto one another’s shoulders able to graze the top. The sparkling from the crystal gold leaf chandeliers adding to the fairytale-like atmosphere as servers of all kind bustled around you offering food and drinks at any given chance, your hand reluctantly staying at your side as you declined their generosity. You were starving, but you had a job to do and, that job, was Song Minhyun.

He was the newly appointed Don of the Amarillo family, his father passing away from an unknown condition only a week ago but, based on how fast Minhyun made the world aware that he was now in control of all the illicit acts committed in the name of Amarillo after years of having their identity protected and undisclosed, even going as far as to threaten and betray the various families beneath him in an insane power trip, it was clear his father’s death was no accident. But you were never a fan of that man, he was creepy with a bad attitude to match, so this task wasn’t some gesture of vengeance for him, it was strictly about you and your family.

Just like the Amarillo’s, your family went under an alternative name, Nio’s, which closely resembled the name of the pharmaceutical manufacturing company masking it, Neo Tech. It always made you laugh considering no one caught on to their association, given Nio’s were the largest distributors and exporters of controlled substances in majority of the Eastern hemisphere. But joining Nio’s wasn’t a life you wanted to live, you were practically forced into it, but once you’ve engrained yourself into a life of organized crime, it was impossible to leave. You lived every day with the mindset of kill or be killed, Minhyun’s threats to expose your operations to the NIS who, after the death of Nio’s founder, Kim Dongwan, assumed your family officially ceased activity in the crime syndicate, being your main motive for taking him down. Sure, you were ordered to handle the assassination but, considering you could face life in prison simply for everything you’ve done in the name of Nio’s, you were more than willing. There was one problem though, Song Minhyun was an absolute dream.

Your thoughts seemed to fade into nothingness when you initiated conversation, going with the plan to seduce and kill him only to find he was much more enticing than you anticipated. He was a year or so older than you yet spoke like he was some immortal seer, his wisdom and life stories drawing you in and leaving your heart racing. His smile was so wide and gummy but eyes sharp and attentive, never leaving yours even as he drew you further from the crowd which, according to Taeyong, was not part of the plan. And you couldn’t begin to understand how fucked you were.

You didn’t know where he was taking you, too focused on his words while simultaneously adjusting your silky white dress to reveal more cleavage from the already plunging v-neck and your walk becoming sultrier to expose more of your leg from the thigh-high slit.

“You know, you shouldn’t focus too much on your looks when you’re naturally beautiful.” Minhyun spoke, your eyes darting to him as your hands returned to your sides, a shy giggle echoing in the now deserted hallway he lead you through.

“Can you blame me? Standing next to an attractive man can really mess with a girl’s self-esteem.” You admitted, suddenly feeling like some high schooler in a rom-com.

“Well, I can help with those insecurities. Just tell me where to start and I’ll make you feel like an absolute queen.” Your breath hitched as his body turned to face you, hand reaching to cup your neck but it was large enough that his thumb could glide over your bottom lip with ease, smudging your red lipstick against your skin teasingly but still holding your gaze.

His presence, the sheer dominance he exuded made you whimper in a mixture of fear and pleasure. You weren’t going planning to escape yet he made the initiative to hold you close to him, an arm wrapped securely around your waist making a heat rush through you that could only be described as want, no longer aware of your duties and no longer caring. He was perfect, and you wanted a piece of his perfection. Maybe for the night, maybe forever, you decided you’d choose after whatever surprise he had for you was done in the dark office he dragged you into, your excitement blocking out the burning gaze from just down the hall.

Minhyun shut the door, not bothering to lock it seeing that you were so willing and easy to remain with him. He knew who you were and what you were planning to do. You were an orphan taken in by Nio’s, trained to be a child soldier for a man who couldn’t even hold his own against Minhyun’s father, now under Taeyong’s rules and orders. But knowing that his first encounter with Taeyong was less than stellar and the sudden ultimatum to forfeit all their assets to the Amarillos or be handed over to the police for sentences that can range from 50 years to death for each and every one of his precious borgata, the only thing Taeyong could do was kill him and you, unfortunately were just a pawn in those plans.

“You know, your looks are nothing to be insecure about. You’re beautiful beyond comprehension.” He spoke lowly, inching closer and guiding you to his large desk just by the window, the moonlight that seeped through the blinds the only form of light allowing you to take in his features.

You gasped as he grabbed your hips, spinning you and pressing you over the desk. You sighed in contentment at the feeling of his hands caressing up your thighs, dress riding up and slowly revealing the black thong you had, a low chuckle leaving his lips at the sight. Not just because you were practically bare before him, but at the pocket pistol held securely in its holster that you managed to forget about. It was a Glock 42, making him proud that he did his research on you because, if he was in your position right now, and the number of murders you committed were accurate, he’d be a goner already.

“(Y/n), if only you were as smart as you are beautiful.” He said, your eyes widening at the way he spoke but, more importantly, he knew your name. Your real name. Not the one you were given for this mission.

“How’d you-Ow!” You whimpered as he grabbed your hair, pulling you upwards until your back was flush with his chest.

Tears were pricking your eyes, your breathing heavy as you felt a cool metal press to your temple swallowing hard while simultaneously attempting to reach to your thigh discretely to find your own gun, only to find it was the one in his hand.

“When I read about you, I was so intrigued. So curious. You know there’s only one photo of you online and it’s a mugshot from when you were still living on the streets?” He laughed out loud at that, ignoring the way your body thrashed against his in an attempt to free yourself, head leaning further away from the possibly cocked gun in fear that he was finished monologuing already.

“But you’re really weak. And I’d usually like that in women, especially when they’re this submissive but, them wanting to kill me is a deal breaker. So what am I to do if I have the opportunity to murder my would-be assassin?” His lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to silently apologize to the Nio’s. Sorry that you let your guard down, that you let some pretty face turn you into some horny teenager, the only plus side to your death being that it wouldn’t be Taeyong killing you because you knew how much he loved to torture before doing the deed. And with that final thought, you were ready to die, just hoping that someone else could finish the job you’ve failed tonight. And they did.

The sound of the door colliding with the wall was all you heard, followed by two hollow gunshots. Your eyes flew open as you felt Minhyun’s body fall limp against yours, hand slowly releasing your hair until you could move again, quickly shoving him off to adjust your dress to cover yourself before facing your silent savior, your heart stopping at the fierce, angry, “don’t move or I’ll kill you too” gaze Doyoung was giving you.

It was one thing to piss off Taeyong, you knew what to expect, but with Doyoung? He wasn’t a killer. In fact, he was the medic of your unit, coming along in case things went awry and someone needed instant care. He was a gentle person with a snappy attitude, but never one to act on his threats, so to see him with a gun in his hand, a body lying face first in blood from its skull and chest created by the man himself and approaching you with a scowl so deep you thought his baby face would finally start to wrinkle, you felt more fear than when you were almost dead.

“D-doyoung. Thank yo-“ You gasped as your head turned, eyes stinging with tears and cheek burning in both embarrassment and from the harsh impact his hand left.

You slowly peered up, afraid he’d strike you again just to see Yuta and Haechan slipping by silently, giving you a brief glance while collecting to fallen shells and your gun from Minhyun, only to leave you alone once more with the unpredictable aid.

“Doyoung-“

“Let’s go.”

Those were the only words he said before turning to head out of the office, your body immediately following close behind. He was silent the entire time, stuffing the pistol back into his waistband before buttoning his suit’s blazer to conceal it, leading the both of you through the still bumbling party and to the exit. Everything he did felt so tense despite being so normal. The way he spoke to the valets, how he entered the car without bothering to open the door for you, even his group call letting everyone know the task was done felt hostile. But you said nothing, continuing to wait idly by and praying he forgot about the situation.

You were tempted to break the awkward silence looming between the both of you on this seemingly hours long drive but, from the way he was radiating heat from how angry he was, you felt staying silent would be best. But you didn’t want to stay silent. You wanted to thank him for saving you while simultaneously screaming at him for slapping you, but also have one normal conversation with him. It was painful to admit that for the past few years you both weren’t exactly friendly with one another, no one seeming to care as “this was strictly business”, and you hated it. You never said it but you loved the Nio’s members and knew they loved you and each other as well, but for some reason the only two people that kept this family at arms length were the core members, Lee Taeyong and Kim Doyoung.

You knew Doyoung wasn’t a fan of the family ever since his father introduced him to that life, pissed he didn’t follow in his older brother’s footsteps and leave as soon as possible. He was supposed to be the heir to the family and be the boss of the 18 people living under his roof and the 7 working overseas in China to keep production there running and, as much as you didn’t want the responsibility, he was in too deep to run away. He opted to stop training for field work, developing a phony passion for medicine and surgery which led to him becoming the emergency medic for the team and no longer catching his father’s fancy for taking over their empire, leading to his heirship being rescinded. And as for the spot as heir? Doyoung’s father ordered Taeyong to fill. You knew Taeyong a lot better than the others but were utterly shocked to see him take over so easily. He was obviously a natural born leader but he had a habit of complaining about not always wanting to be in charge, using you as his unwilling therapist when he felt like reverting to his unintimidating, crybaby self. But there was no exit at this point, so what more could you do than make the most of a bad situation by befriending one another and having fun when you felt your lives were no longer in danger? And, whether they liked it or not, they were going to have fun with you and the rest of their constantly growing family.

“Y-you know, I was more scared of you then being killed back there. I’ve never seen you so mad.” You laughed, hoping to at least get a smile or something from him, your eyes glancing over to see his grip on the steering wheel tighten at your words. Maybe you should’ve just shut up.

“Doyoung, I’m sorry I put you in a situation where you had to kill, I know you hate stuff like that but, if it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead. Besides, it’s kinda like medicine if you think about it. Except you saved a life by taking one rather than just giving drugs to- OW!” You cried out as he slammed on the brakes, the only thing keeping you from flying through the windshield being your hands on the dashboard and the seatbelt crossed over your chest and waist.

“You bitch!” You snapped at him, watching his blank expression as he removed his seatbelt and turned off the car.

“Meet me in my office. You have five minutes.” Doyoung said plainly, your eyes fixed on him in bewilderment as he exited the car with no concern for you.

You let out an annoyed breath, your fear from before mixed with anger as you hurriedly followed his lead, leaving the car and speed walking to the front door he was entering through. To your surprise, most of the guys were there, not sparing either of you a glance as they knew what had happened and knew better than to interfere, but one person didn’t keep quiet.

“(Y/n), what the FUCK did I tell you?” Taeyong growled, your body practically jumping as he cornered you in the entrance’s corridor, eyes burning with anger and panic that you knew he had no way of controlling. He was always a hothead.

“I-I-“

“I’m having the meeting with her, Taeyong. Don’t bother. You have two minutes.” Doyoung spoke, voice fading as he continued down the hall to the small office he typically frequented to buy and sell shipment for Nio’s personal and professional use.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you grabbed Taeyong’s hands, eyes wide and teary as you tried to plead with him to save you.

“You went off where we couldn’t see you and didn’t even complete the mission. You could have been dead by now.”

“I know and you can punish however you want but, Taeyong, Doyoung is pissed, and I don’t know what to do. He already slapped me, now he’s not even speaking to me,”

“He never talks to you.”

“He does sometimes, when he wants to be a sarcastic asshole! But, please, Taeyong, talk to him. Calm him down so he doesn’t hurt me again.” You tried to use a soft voice, hoping to strike a sympathetic nerve in the doe-eyed man.

“(Y/n/n),” Taeyong sighed, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him.

“You fucked up and made Doyoung do something he’s sworn to himself and us that he’d never do. His anger is justified. But I’ll be there for you whenever you’re in danger, whether it’d be an enemy or anyone living in this house, I’ll never let you get hurt.” He gave a warm smile, your lips curling to mimic his.

“But not tonight. You put us all at risk as you need to face the consequences.”

“Taeyong!”

“I’ll visit you in the infirmary later tonight.” You whimpered in fear as he kissed the crown of your head and pushed you in the direction of the office, heels clicking against the white marble floor as you stumbled to what might be your imminent doom.

You could taste blood in your mouth from the way you bit down on your tongue to ease your anxiety, your once statue-like body moving forward with caution although the chilly air was urging you to retreat. You couldn’t turn back because Taeyong would just escort you to Doyoung himself but if you went straight to Doyoung, who knows what he’d do. You couldn’t even take a second to cry over your dilemma once you noticed the dark brown mahogany door. The office was soundproof, something you both loved and hated. Whatever Doyoung wanted to scream at you would go unheard by the men possibly showering and preparing for bed after a somewhat successful evening, but then they wouldn’t hear you scream for help. It reminded you of earlier tonight, making the situation a bit more lighthearted until you realized you could’ve died then and would possibly die now.

“Oh god,” You breathed out in a whisper, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath as your hand gripped the steel doorknob, turning it and entering the spacious and organized room.

“Doyoung.” You spoke lowly, shutting the door behind you but refusing to move any closer to him as he sat with an unrecognizable file before him.

“July of 2016, you were assigned to deliver a new batch of amphetamines to Xu Minghao who ran the Chinese operations of Sebong. Instead of cooperating with Weishen, AKA the Chinese sector of your own team, you thought doing the drop off yourself would be fine, only to let your guard down and let it slip that you were in Nio’s which promptly lead to you not only being ambushed, but Sicheng jumping in to save you and being shot in the lower back in the process.” He said blandly, flipping over the page to yet another as you swallowed hard at the memory, accidentally mentioning Haechan’s name and revealing you weren’t just a middle man in their operation but a direct asset, and Winwin payed the price for your stupidity.

“I remember just fine, but-“

“February of 2017, you knowingly entered enemy territory in Kyoto without alerting Yuta who, as you’ve always known, is in charge of our Japanese affairs. He has people over there for a reason, to handle the shit we can’t while we’re in Seoul. But you waltz over there and initiate a gang war that has only now been resolved.” He said, voice growing in annoyance and animosity that was a complete 180 from his once emotionless tone, your voice caught in your throat as you also remembered that day. You were on vacation and thought it’d be fine as long as you went in some disguise, but you were too well known and the fact you couldn’t speak Japanese only made it worse. You even remembered how Yuta refused to talk to you for months as he traveled constantly to fix your mistake.

“I-I know I fucked up that time but I tried to explain and I-“

“And that brings us to tonight! You had to stay in the spotlight with the man threatening not only your life but everyone you know in Nio’s and neighboring groups, and lead him back to the apartment we set up for you for a simple and quick execution, but you decide to go further into his mansion, expose yourself to him, and allow him to nearly murder you with your bare ass out!” His voice was strained as he screamed this time, your eyes watering as he pushed the large leather chair back to stand, making his way around the desk to approach you.

“I’d remind you about what happened in 2013, but I’m sure you’d never forget that.” He said with no emotion once more, your eyes low as you tried to suppress the urge to touch your slightly sunken head. Your our only job was to shoot if you saw someone escaping during an exchange but, instead, you were hit yourself, every medic working hard to keep you from dying and leaving you with a partially shaved head and a new metal plate in your skull.

“But I want you to tell me who saved your ass that time, (Y/n)?” His voice was playful now, emotions changing like an out of control radio station. Sometimes you wondered if he was just as mentally fucked as Taeyong.

You gasped when you felt his hand gripping your face, forcing your head up and back until your eyes met, a fire behind them that made your stomach swirl in fear but enchantment. You almost even forgot about how rough his grip on your jaw was because his hands were so soft, the warmth he let off no longer intimidating but causing you to turn to putty in his hands and wanting to fall against him in comfort and bliss. But the sudden harsh flick to your forehead made you realize he was anything but comforting.

“Stop acting like a touch starved dumbass and answer me. Who the fuck saved you from bleeding out in a filthy warehouse in the middle of fucking Daegu?” He said harshly, your eyes darkening as you tried to keep your composure.

“You did.”

“And you decided that me handling the responsibility of operating on you was some sentimental, heroic act and that from that day forth, you would make it everyone’s job to save you? That it was my job to save you?”

You felt your eyes tearing up again, lip quivering as a sob threatened to escape you and he could only let out a scoff, harshly pulling his hand back as he watched you cry.

“And now you’re crying.”

“I tried to thank you, I tried to apologize for making you save me yet you won’t let me! You slapped me! You’re screaming at me and making me feel bad when I already fucking feel bad. I know I’m fucking up and it’s hard on you guys but I-I just don’t know what to do! I’m tired and sick of having to live every second of my life knowing there is no one in this world I can trust and that I can never leave and that’s all I want, Doyoung! I just want to leave and be a normal person.”

The silence between you was deafening, almost loud in a way, but it was allowing you both to take in the words you said. You could see the look of conflict and annoyance on his face through your tears, a glimmer of what you both hoped and feared was sadness in his eyes as he rolled them to look anywhere but you. And what Doyoung saw of you was a breeding ground of trauma and dysfunction.

You were no different from anyone there, your life story was so similar to most of theirs that no one had time to pity you. You joined Nio’s when you were only 10, hair matted and filthy like the clothes you wore, hands stained red with blood and a look in your eyes that screamed frustration but hopelessness. You were the perfect tool for his father and it was sad watching yet another lost soul fall into this lifestyle. But you proved to be so capable of yourself, strong and competent but, after the death of his father, something in you changed. You were emotional, distracted, constantly agreeing to do task but never fully connecting mentally. He even noticed you screaming in the middle of the night from nightmares. Whether you remembered or not, you and Doyoung were close, so close it managed to shift the atmosphere of Nio’s into something enjoyable and worthy of being part of, but he knew it wasn’t good for you to stay. Not for any of you. So he gave you a chance to leave, a chance to live your life the way you had always told him you wanted, but you didn’t take it. Your reason? Taeyong. You never explained why he was the reason you were staying but the way you constantly clung to their leader like you were his lapdog was all the clarification that he needed. For Doyoung, the closeness you shared and the desire you both had of living normal lives was nothing compared to the same greed for power you shared with Taeyong. So he stopped trying to save you, stopped focusing on how to help you preserve what little of your sanity was left until now. Seeing you at your breaking point made it clear to him that even if this life would follow you forever, letting you go was better than having everyone killed from your mistakes. And, if you left, whatever problems haunted you would be yours to face alone, and he was fine with that.

“You will never be a normal person. And whatever life you choose to live will be as stressful as this one because you’ll spend every second looking over your shoulder wondering who’s out to get you. But, you’re dead weight now, and it’s unfair we’re the ones that have to keep carrying you. I don’t care when or where you go, just leave.” His tone was harsh and cold, the relief you felt at his words not enough to ease the pressure in your chest.

Doyoung’s no longer had power to make these decisions once Taeyong was appointed as leader, so you knew without the boss’ approval his word meant nothing. But, if you had the chance to run, why not take it? Maybe for one day, you could be free, probably take the time you needed to hide away from Nio’s and the crime world you knew all too well. You had no set plan, but sticking around trying to making one would do you no good.

“T-thank you. Thank you for everything.” You said with a small voice and deep bow, Doyoung not bothering to look at you as you hurriedly exited the room to head to yours and pack any belongings you needed for your new life.

You knew this life was hard to leave yet lived with the ignorant optimism that there was always some escape and no turning back. Unfortunately for you, you were simply a butterfly living in an airtight jar and, no matter where you turned, the air you needed was nowhere to be found and, tonight, was the beginning of your suffocation.

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Patient Zero

Chapter Four

Pairing: Din Djarin/Imperial Reader

Word Count: 2,885

Warnings: No big ones, mention of blood draws.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

Working with the Empire as one of their researchers was, in theory, a boring job. At least, right up until you were assigned the mysterious Patient Zero. With no records, no data, and no name, he may as well not exist. But he’s much more than meets the eye, and you’re about to find that out the hard way.

Multi-chapter story. Chapter 4 of 4. Read Chapter 1, Read Chapter 2 Read Chapter 3

Returning to the medi-ship with the blaster hidden in your clothes wasn’t exactly the smartest move, but it was the only one you could pull off. It was nighttime, so the lights were all dimmed and the only person you knew would truly be awake was Yen. Walking through the halls as if nothing was wrong, you headed towards the medical rooms, where Din was likely sleeping. If all went right, you wouldn’t have to reveal your blaster. If it didn’t, well, then things were about to get ugly.

Yen was, as expected, outside Din’s door when you walked up to it.

“You’re back early!” He said happily, yawning widely and grinning. “Have fun?”

“Not really,” you grumbled, trying to act natural. “There is sand everywhere.”

Yen laughed. “Damn. Why don’t you go shower and get some sleep? Patient Zero was a doll for me while you were gone, by the way.”

You took a breath, preparing your poker face. “Ah, that reminds me. I got orders from the boss while I was on my way back. They want to move him. Something about an upgraded facility in the outer rim that might be able to finally ID him.”

“Oh!” Yen perked up. “That would be nice! When do you leave for that?”

“Uh,” you shuffled your feet and put on your best guilty performance. “Technically I was supposed to leave yesterday. Figured I’d come to get him as soon as I got back, but I couldn’t make it in time. Is it okay if I take him now?”

Yen sighed. “Sweet Maker. Alright, I’ll go prep a ship. Sure you don’t wanna wait until morning?”

Shaking your head, you pulled your key card from your pocket. “Nah. I have to make up for lost time. And I have a ship prepped. Never turned the one I used off, so she’s still running, ready for immediate takeoff.”

“Alrighty then,” Yen said, stepping back as you unlocked Din’s door. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Guilt gripped your heart. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

Yen smiled. “Me too.”

Just like that, he was gone, and you were sliding into Din’s room. “Zero!”

He shifted in his bed, rolling over and blinking at you. “Wha?”

You rushed to his side. “Get up. We’re going.”

Din’s face changed, confusion decorating his features as he sat up in bed. “What?”

Taking his hands, you looked directly into his eyes. “Din Djarin, I am taking you home.”

Din jumped to his feet, not even bothering with shoes as he followed you out. You kept your head high as you walked, hoping not to run into anyone else. Luckily, you were able to get Din onto the ship without any issue. Unluckily, as soon as the doors were closed and you were climbing up into the cockpit, alarms started to blare.

“Dank ferrik!” You yelled, sliding into the pilot’s seat and gripping the controls. “Hold on!”

Powering the ship up, you took off, immediately swerving to avoid hitting a TIE fighter. The medi-ship didn’t have much by way of attack power, but it could absolutely defend itself if it had to. “Come on!”

Din gripped the chair he was sitting in, his face tight with worry. “Let me pilot.”

“Little busy!” You shouted back, swerving again and swearing violently.

Din stood, holding onto the control panel for support. “Move over!”

You kept your hands on the controls, standing and letting him sit. As soon as he took over the controls, it was like he was piloting a whole new ship. The Crest moved with odd ease, flipping and swerving with no effort at all.

“Where to?”

“Tatooine!”

Din hit the hyperdrive, the blackness of space blurring away and fading into the pale blue of hyperdrive. You finally relaxed, falling limp into one of the copilot chairs.

“Okay.” Din turned, keeping an eye on the controls as he put the ship into autopilot. “Explain.”

And you did. You told him everything. The trip to Tatooine, learning who he was through Boba Fett, the plan to get him out and send him on his way to reunite Mandalore. He listened intently throughout the entire thing, facial expression never changing.

Finally, once you were done, he nodded. “Does this ship have a communicator?”

Twenty minutes later, you watched as Din set up the holo-communicator, frustration making his face pull. Eventually, it worked, a shaky image of a man appearing.

“Din?” The staticky voice said. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” Din said, nodding.

You stepped away, allowing Din to have his conversation in private. Shutting the cockpit door, you headed down the ladder to the cargo hold, beginning to set up two small spaces to sleep in storage cabinets. It wasn’t neat, nor was it very comfortable, but it was private and it would work.

“Hey.”

You jumped, seeing Din holding the holo-communicator. A scrawny blonde with light robes and a single glove was on the screen. “Who’s that?” You asked.

“His name is Luke.” Din held the communicator out to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

You took the communicator, setting it up on a crate and urging Din to sit beside you. “Luke. Hello.”

“Hello,” Luke said cheerily. An urgent babbling cut him off, and he grinned. “Din, your son is very eager to see you again.”

Your heart almost stopped when Luke lifted a very cute green baby up, his wide brown eyes finding Din’s face and he cooed happily.

“Is that,”

“Grogu? Yeah.”

You smiled. “Hello Grogu. It’s nice to meet you.”

Grogu burbled and began to chew on a metal fixture on Luke’s coat.

Luke gently pulled Grogu away and turned back to you. “Din tells me you’ve been doing regular tests on him, the most concerning is a blood draw. Now, we’ve had theories for years, but I’m eager to see if they’re to be confirmed today.”

“Well,” you started. “We noticed when we started taking samples of Din, that he wasn’t naturally Force sensitive. However, he reacted to the use of the Force and he had a higher M-count. So, we assumed he’d associated with a particularly strong Force user for a long period of time, and that exposure to the Force changed his systems and adapted him to become more Force tolerant.”

“Wait,” Din cut in. “Does that mean I’m like Grogu?”

Luke shook his head. “No. I doubt you could be able to wield the Force. However, this means that the things the Jedi only theorized are true. I would love for you to join me on my planet and explore this concept further. Din, you would be welcome as well, of course.”

You were shocked. Learning and researching with the Empire was one thing, but with Luke Skywalker? It was a dream come true.

“Of course,” you said. “I would love to.”

“And you Din? I could always use more protection out here.”

It wasn’t even a question for Din. He nodded. “Absolutely. But we have to stop on Tatooine first. Can you send us the coordinates?”

The communicator pinged, the coordinates saving to the device.

Luke smiled. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you,” you responded, shutting off the communicator and looking at Din. “We’ll be on Tatooine in about 12 hours. Do you want to sleep?”

Din nodded. “If I’m not up, can you dock us in a specific place?”

You agreed, and Din immediately went off to sleep away his rescue. Meanwhile, you settled down in the cockpit, ready to land the ship when it came out of hyperspace.

Approximately twelve hours later, you were landing the ship, hesitating upon hearing faint yelling.

“I swear to the Force Mando! If this ship is falling apart again I will kill you myself, beskar be damned! Where the hell were you? No wonder this thing is always in horrible shape!”

You grinned, stepping out of the ship to find a short woman in a mechanic’s uniform. “Hello! Are you Peli?”

The woman scowled. “Are you with Mando?”

“Uh.” You had no idea how to respond. “Yes?”

“Yeah, they’re with me.”

Peli softened when she saw Din, stepping forward to get a better look. “Where’d the helmet go?”

Din shrugged. “I was kidnapped. The armor’s all with Fett.”

In an instant, there was a blaster pointed at your face. “Did they kidnap you?”

“No!” Din scrambled to correct her. “No! They broke me out.”

You nodded, letting out a breath as Peli lowered the blaster. “Fine. Do you need speeders?”

Din shook his head. “Just a place to refuel and get some new clothes.”

Peli looked Din up and down, finally taking in his stained white Empire issue clothes and no shoes. She did the same to you, eyes narrowing at your cleaner cut researchers uniform. “C’mon in. I don’t suppose you’ve still got the little one, do you?”

“He’s off getting proper training,” Din reassured, following Peli into the building. “With a Jedi.”

Peli made a noise of approval as she handed you a stack of clothes. “Try those, I think they’ll fit. And Mando,”

“Din.”

“Din,” Peli corrected herself without skipping a beat. “Try these.”

She left you two to change, abandoning the Empire white for Tatooine browns, greens, and burgundies. As you adjusted the loose cargo pants, you giggled at Din, who was desperately trying to pat his hair down. “C’mere.”

He moved towards you, waiting as you sat on the bed. You patted your thighs. “Sit. I’ll fix your hair.”

Din sat between your legs, allowing you to slowly comb through his hair with your fingers. He’d been decent about self-care while he’d been with you, always shaving when his facial hair got annoying and never needing help with his hair before this. You had to wonder how mentally drained he was if he needed your assistance here.

Peli came back in, holding two plates of food. When she saw the blissed out Din, she quietly put the plates down. “Do you want a real comb?” She whispered.

“Yes please,” you whispered back, nodding your thanks for the food.

When she returned with the comb stick in a cup of water, you thanked her again and slowly drew the wet comb through Din’s hair. It worked much better than your hands, untangling the knots and taming the cowlicks. When Din finally got up to eat, he looked much more presentable.

You turned to use the comb on yourself, but Din stopped you. Taking your wrist, he looked at you with pleading eyes. “Can I? I mean, you did it for me. It only seems right that I, y’know,”

“Of course.” You dropped the comb into his hands and sat on the floor, waiting. Din carefully put his legs around you, sitting on the bed and wetting the comb. Water trickled down the back of your neck as he worked, his warm hands firm on your head as he guided you. The tug of the comb lulled you into a soft, gentle place. A place beyond trouble or fear.

But good things don’t last, and suddenly you were up and eating so you could head out to Fett’s palace.

“You come back now, you hear me?” Peli said as you climbed aboard the ship again. “I don’t want you dropping out of the galaxy, okay?”

“Yes Peli!” Din called back, shutting the hatch. “See you soon!”

You smiled, waving as you took off. Fett’s palace wasn’t far, so you didn’t even bother napping during the short trip out.

When Din landed, he eagerly bounded off, knocking firmly on the front door you’d stood before not even a week prior.

“It’s Din.” He confirmed to the hatch. “I’m here to see Boba and reclaim my armor.”

Immediately, the doors opened, and Fennec was scooping Din up in a hug, his feet actually leaving the floor. “You had us worried sick!” She said happily. “Boba and I assumed you were dead! And you,” She said, turning to you. “You returned our bounty hunter safely. Is there any way we can repay you?”

You shook your head. “No m’am.”

Fennec snorted. “Please. Just Fennec will work. C’mon, let’s go see Boba.”

Of course, on the way, you two detoured to pick up Don’s armor. He methodically put it all on, from the flight suit to the vambraces. You watched, memorizing his every movement. He picked the helmet up, staring at the dark visor. “When I swore the Mandalorian creed,” he said softly. “I swore that if my helmet ever came off in the presence of any other living thing, I wouldn’t ever put it back on. I would lose that part of myself, forever.”

You stood, taking the helmet from his loose grip. “Din. You’ve earned this helmet ten times over.” Slowly sliding the helmet on, you noticed an immediate difference. Din stood taller, more confident and clearly more comfortable. “It suits you.”

Fennec poked her head in. “Are we ready?”

Din nodded, strapping a strange hilt to his belt and sliding a pure metal spear into a sheath on his back. “Let’s go.”

Meeting Fett again was interesting. He, like Fennec, thanked you for returning Din. You simply responded that it had felt right, and there was no need to thank you.

That night, after ample private celebrating during which Din removed his helmet so he could drink, you were alone, staring at the moons through a barred window. Slowly turning over, you sighed, trying to chase away the loneliness in your chest.

A hesitant knock at your door snapped you upright. “Come in?”

Din pushed the door open, slipping into the room. He was in his pyjamas, armor nowhere in sight. “Can’t sleep?”

“And I take it you can’t either,” you pointed out, standing and stretching. “What’s troubling you Din?”

“Loneliness.”

You smiled. “My bed is always open,” you offered, not even thinking before you spoke.

Din blinked. “Really?”

Before you could hesitate or stop yourself, you nodded, scooting over. “Of course. C’mon.”

He slid into the bed with you, eyes immediately blinking shut as you drew the covers up, covering yourself and Din to the shoulders. He relaxed, breathing out and sliding an arm over your body. You didn’t protest, instead curling closer to his warmth. “Are you really going to stay with Luke and Grogu?” You asked the hushed air.

Din breathed out. “For a bit. I have a planet to run, apparently.”

You laughed a bit, trying to stay quiet. “Right. The planet.”

Din smiled. You could feel his cheek moving against your head. “What about you? Will you stay with Luke forever?”

“Probably not,” you admitted. “I’m a traveler at heart.”

“Me too,” Din said. “Bounty hunting was how I got out of the covert.”

You snuggled deeper under the covers. “But you’ll stay with Luke for a bit?”

Din was quiet for a minute. “As long as you stay too.”

His response confused you. “What do you mean?”

“I like you,” he admitted, his voice tender. “I enjoy having you around.”

You smiled. “I enjoy having you around too. Can we finally be friends instead of researcher and project?”

Now it was Din’s turn to laugh. “I thought we already were friends.”

“Maybe we can be something more than.”

Din hummed out a shallow breath. “Something more,” he said. “I like the sound of that.”

The next day, as the twin suns painted the sky a brilliant orange and pink, you bid Fennec and Boba farewell as you got aboard the Crest. Din let you pilot, opting to, instead, organize the ship. You heard him clattering around every so often, but didn’t question it. He’d clearly flown a Crest before, and you trusted him to make this his home.

Finally, you landed on the mysterious green planet from the coordinates. Setting down near a temple, you drew a cloak across your shoulders as you stepped off the ship.

Immediately, Grogu came running as fast as his tiny legs would let him. Din crouched down and scooped him up in a tight hug, his shoulders heaving as you realized he was crying. Quickly ditching the helmet, he let Grogu pat his face down, smiling behind his tears.

“Ah?” Grogu finally noticed you, pointing one small claw at you.

“Yeah,” Din said. “That’s a very nice person who helped me come home to you.”

You smiled, stepping forward and taking Grogu’s hand. “Mhm. Your dad is very brave and has waited a long time to see you again. He told me all about you.”

Grogu cooed, cuddling into the curve of Din’s shoulder and falling asleep.

Luke came over the hill, much slower than Grogu. “Hello.” He waved. “How was the trip?”

Din shrugged. “Just fine. We didn’t find trouble, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Perfect!” Luke said, clasping his hands. “I’ve got two rooms set up for you guys, if you’ll follow me. I apologize if they’re messy, my nephew is visiting.”

“Actually,” you said quickly, glancing to Din and getting an approving nod. “Is there any way you could make that just one room?”

Din smiled, kicking his helmet. You reached down to pick it up. “Yeah,” he said, putting the arm that wasn’t holding Grogu around your waist. “Just one room.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

27 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

She [6]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series); masturbation

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: Steve starts to plan ahead.

Note: Yesterday was pretty rough personally but I’m working on my writers list at the moment so that should be out next week! As for my own writing, I’m not sure. But thanks to everyone who is reading along

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Steve

Steve didn’t get home until well past midnight. He’d lost her after the bar and she beat him back to her apartment. She was still awake when he got there. Wide awake. Restless. She sat on the couch and fiddled with her phone, then the remote, then fidgeted again. She was shaken by her little foray into the underbelly of the city.

He was almost amused to think of it. How she must have felt. Was she mortified? Intrigued? Maybe both. Like him. When he realised what she had been searching for, what the woman she’d been talking to was, he was surprised and even more interested.

When she flashed her press pass, he realised why. This was her new story. Had she so quickly forgotten about him? Let him fall in the gutter as she chases down her next prey.

Home, alone at last, he found himself in a fitful sleep. He laid atop his covers and tossed and turned. In the span of a couple days, his life had so completely changed. He was startled to realise he had so easily forgotten about his work. She was the crux of his life now. The very centerpiece of his new existence.

When he finally dozed off, he woke only shortly after. It was still dark and he was uncomfortable as he laid flat on his back. He was hard. Painfully hard. As his pajama bottoms rubbed against his cock, he flinched. He sat up and took a breath. He couldn’t.

He closed his eyes and he saw her. Sitting on the subway, sprawled across her couch, oblivious in the depths of her deep porcelain tub. He fell back and hissed. His hand twitched beside his hip.

“It’s okay to be lonely.” She whispered in his ear. “Natural, even.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and his breath shuddered.

“I’m the only who sees you for what you are.” He felt her breath, as gentle as the breeze. “You showed me that day who you truly are. You’re human, like all of us… imperfect.”

He shook his head and felt the tickled along his pelvis. Felt the elastic of his pants lift and the soft touch of flesh against his arousal. Fingers wrapped around him and began to stroke up and down. Tortuously deliberate. He bared his teeth as the motion carried.

“No…” He murmured. “No… it’s…”

He bit his lip as her hand sped up. As his muscles tensed and all the warmth in his body gathered at that one spot. He felt it mounting within him. The years of pent up resent and wanting. Those things he never let himself feel. His cock hurt so much. She worked him even faster.

He came and cried out in surprise. It turned to a growl as the strokes slowed and he was eased through the waves of sheer pleasure. He was panting as he opened his eyes. He was alone. It was his hand around his cock, his cum cooling along his fingers. He pushed his head into the pillow and groaned.

He was tired, then. Exhausted. But he had to clean himself up and forget about this. Forget about her.

He sat up and held out his wet hand. He stood and used his elbow to flip the switch on his way into the bathroom. He passed the broken sink and went to the tub. He turned the faucet and shoved his hand under the warm water. He stopped the tap and shook the droplets off his hands as he stood.

He turned and looked in the mirror. He was flushed and his irises were pinpoints. He didn’t look like himself. He grabbed the hand towel from the bar that hung on the front of the counter. He dried his hand, his pajamas damp. He shimmied out of them and let them gather on the floor. He shed his shirt and stood naked, his eyes roved the thick muscles of his chest and arms.

“You know what I am,” He said. “You will know what I am.”

🖋️

The basement was the only part of the townhouse that remained unfinished. Steve hadn’t been bothered, he’d intended it for storage and it worked well for that. But now he needed all this shit cleared out and he had a lot to do after that.

He resigned himself to a day by himself. He’d let her be as he started his work. And he knew if he kept on as he was, something might fall out of place. Something within him. He needed to focus on something else, just for a little bit. A day wasn’t very long at all.

The leftover drywall could be used still, the insulation, too. He’d have to grab some of the thick padding he’d seen at the hardware store. Two layers to be safe. That old washroom would have to be restored. The toilet was forgotten; the tank crooked and the lid totally gone. It barely flushed when he pushed on the handle. He’d make do.

After all that, he’d have even more to worry about. A bed would fit there where the boxes were and he could put a hook in the ceiling there along the beam. He wove between the stacks of dusty possessions. It would look bigger once he did away with the clutter. More than enough room.

He went and rented a unit downtown to store all his shit. He barely avoided the press as he pulled out but lost them soon after. He made several trips back and forth. It was afternoon when he started sweeping. He cleaned up the grim basement as best he could. It was almost evening then.

He sat on the steps and took a breath. He looked up the stairs and back down. He’d need a thicker door, with a lock. That would need to be soundproofed too. Shit, he had to figure out a way to get everything he needed inside without drawing the attention of the cameras.

He glanced around as he stood and dusted off his hands. He left the broom against the wall and went upstairs. He washed his hands and pulled on his hoodie. It was dark. He cut through the back as had become his habit and headed down the little pathway that skirted the row of yards.

It would be easier to drive himself but the press knew his car by sight. He wasn’t that stupid. Besides, a man on the subway, hardly suspicious. She’d already be home or so he hoped. At her stop, he slowed his gait. As he came up on the street, he took a deep gulp of the night air.

He scaled the escape to his usual spot. Her window was dark but for the flicker of her television. She laid in its glare and stretched her arms over the end of the couch as her feet rested on the other. She had fallen asleep. He could tell by the even measure of her breath as he listened through the wall and past the buzz of the small speakers.

His hand slipped beneath the pane and he looked down at it. The window was open just a little to let in the cool breeze. He lifted his head and turned his palm up to grasp the wooden frame. He pushed just a bit and cringed at the grind. He stopped and watched her. She didn’t move.

He continued until the window was open to its limit. He stooped through. He was almost too big for it. He wiggled onto the other side and let himself down onto the floor carefully. He nearly kicked over the shelf just beside the window. He stood and glanced around the apartment. It smelled like roses, the way she had when he’d welcomed her into his house.

He crept closer, pausing after each step to listen. Her snores were soft and beckoned to him. He stopped just behind the back of the couch and looked down at her in the wavering shadows cast by the television. She wore a long tee shirt that read GAP across the chest; a small hole along the neckline and another near her thigh. He could see a hint of her panties just below.

He winced as he felt the blood rush from his head and he felt himself growing hard. He shook and gripped the couch. He wanted to just do it. He could. Easily. A hand over her mouth. She’d be terrified and she would know who it was she had crossed. She would realise what she’d done to him and he would make her know it was all her fault.

She turned onto her side suddenly and he ducked behind the couch. He heard a sniff as her snores quieted and she grumbled. He heard her moving around and the tv flicked off as her shadow stood on the other side of the sofa. He held his breath as her footsteps stumbled away into the bedroom. She didn’t even notice the noise of the city as it blew in through the open window.

He was too afraid to move. Ten minutes before he found his strength. Her snores resumed in the next room and he kept on all fours as he crawled around the couch. He followed her even heartbeat to her room and her arm hung down as she slept on her stomach. The curve of her ass was limned in moonlight through the space between her patched curtains.

He neared the bed and just watched her. Sat on the floor in a trance. So clueless, so weak to him. He got to his feet and waited. She didn’t wake. He smirked and neared. Still, she slept. He grabbed the handle of the night table just beside her bed and slowly forced it open. Pens, old cards, nothing spectacular. Disappointed, he closed it and inched away.

He backed away, stopped by her boxy dresser. He looked down and then back at her. He leaned on the side of the wood and carefully jostled opened the top drawer. A pair of satiny panties he shoved in his pocket without thinking and he felt deeper down. His fingers latched onto something firm and long.

He angled the large dildo out of her dresser and raised a brow. He’d seen these things online thanks to Sam’s dumb jokes. A small arm jutted out and curved parallel to the rest of the toy. There was a small button embedded beneath the silicone. He turned it in his hand and then tucked it into his belt and pulled his hoodie down over the oblong bulge.

He shut the door and retreated entirely. That would be the first piece of his puzzle. A token to know her by until he could return it to her. The thought made him shiver as he made his way back to the window. He paused and took one last glance.

He wanted to stay, wanted to go back in her room and wake her with the gentle buzz of the toy. Just between her legs, his hand between her shoulder blades as he held her down. No, don’t look at me. Just feel me. He took a sharp breath and kicked his leg over the window sill.

“Soon,” He whispered. “I promise.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #she #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #marvel #mcu #captain america

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dregstrash · 4 years

Text

Knife in the Back

a/n: Here it is!! The @grishaversebigbang project I did with the wonderful and talented @wafflesandkruge. This was so much fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it!

Materialki: @chaosvvolf (check out this amazing piece), @throughtheruin (feast your eyes on this beauty), @cinnonym (a 10/10 work of art), @corpsecro (we literally love to see talent), @kayadoodles (her mind is galactic with this one), @saintprivateer (brilliance in a single image)

Summary: Inej is one of the best detectives the city has to offer. As she gets closer to taking down one of the largest crime syndicates in Kerch, a body turns up out of nowhere and it points to Kaz Brekker, one of Ketterdam’s most dangerous hitmen, being the killer. But as Inej investigates the murder, there might be more to it than meets the eye: the murder, the suspects, and Kaz Brekker.

Ao3 Link

Prologue and Chapter 1 under the cut!

Prologue:

It was a dark night in Ketterdam. Not that any light truly ever pierced the dark clouds that seemed to perpetually hang over the city, but under the new moon the stars weren’t strong enough to illuminate the dark cobbled street.

The regular late night revelers seemed more subdued than usual. The air chillier and the wind ripping through any brave soul that stumbled through abandoned alleys.

It was almost funny the things that are able to pass in the dark: guns hidden under coats, hands twitching with an unquenchable craving, and bodies that might never truly wake up. The pale arm sticking out of a hastily placed tarp would have passed completely, if it wasn’t for one drunken man stumbling away from his latest high. The fall came before the scream, and the sound of it echoed down the alley.

True night could have hidden most evils, but even the shadows can choose to offer some truths-- and on this dark night the truth was this: a girl half-covered with a blue tarp, her eyes set in an endless stare, and a hole punctured in the place where her heart should have been.

Chapter 1:

Ketterdam was like most metropolitan cities: busy streets, short-tempered people, and high murder rates. Inej had only been with the police department for three years, but she honestly thought she’d seen it all. Her police academy years were spent doing her regular beats in the Barrel, the sinister underbelly of the pleasure districts of Ketterdam called the Staves. She thought that coming face to face with the broken, destitute, and neglected, she had finally figured out all the little secrets of this dark city. But Ketterdam had a way of keeping you on your toes, and today was proof of that.

“It’s not pretty, Inej.” Her partner, Matthias, lifted the police tape cordoning the crime scene from the curious eyes of the general public. He handed her a cup of coffee and she took a grateful sip. They were in an alley in one of the more run-down neighborhoods, the area dark despite the morning sun.

“Tell me.” Inej said.

Matthias sighed and led her to where a corpse that was being covered with a blue tarp. Inej inhaled briefly at the sight of the massive hole punctured in the dead girl’s chest, and just as quick she exhaled. Later, she’ll give herself time to think about how young the girl looked, or the way her eyes were open and unable to be put to rest. Later, she’ll say a little prayer for the currently unnamed girl. But for now, she braced herself to take in the details, to take in the scene, to look at everything like puzzle pieces itching to be made whole.

“Victim was found at about 2 in the morning, by a drunk trying to find his way home. He tripped over the arm and let out a scream. Neighbors from up there.” He pointed up to a fifth story apartment complex, “Called about the noise complaint, and we had officers on the scene fairly quick.”

Inej opened her mouth, but Matthias beat her to it. “We already interviewed the man who discovered the body, and he’s not a person of interest. He was barely sober enough to remember where he lived, much less murder someone. We’ll have to wait until Wylan takes a closer look before, but it looks like the girl’s been dead for more than twenty-four hours.”

She nodded in understanding and took a closer look at the pale corpse. Inej peered under the tarp, and hissed out a breath.

“Shit.” Inej cursed.

Matthias raised an eyebrow, “You know her?”

“She’s one of my informants. A girl I knew from when I was younger. She was helpful in some of my bigger cases, but I hadn’t heard from her in the last six months. I just assumed she finally got out of the city.”

“And you have no idea who she would be working with that could have gotten her killed?”

She shook her head and then started looking at the crime scene itself, “There’s no blood here.” She began to pace the length of the alley. “Not on the ground or on her clothes. So we can rule out robbery gone wrong. We need to find out where she was killed”

Matthias followed closely behind her, she could feel him thinking. People always accused Matthias of being a stoic brick wall, and while Inej might agree, she almost relied on that solid silence. After being her partner for almost two years, she knew that he would only speak up if all the facts aligned and made sense. He wouldn’t waste words on any conspiracy.

“This would have to be multiple assailants.” Matthias said contemplatively. “Or one highly organized individual. We haven’t seen anything like this for a while.”

Inej swept her eyes on the crime scene and she sighed, “And we have no word on any sort of wallet or phone?”

“Hasn’t been seen, but we’re going to try to get some facial recognition off the CCTV to try and identify her.”

Inej nodded and turned over the minimal amount of detail surrounding the crime scene. There was something achingly familiar about the set up. Dead body. Simple covering. Dumping ground. For all intents and purposes, it was minimalistic and clean-- sort of like the case form three years ago-- the one with--.

Inej’s eyes widened as a realization dawned on her.

She scanned the alley more closely taking in the position of the victim, the loosely tied tarp, the time of discovery, and its location. She remembered the details of another case she had spent hours and hours pouring over. She remembered the frustrating all-nighters, and barged in at Wylan’s office at any given moment demanding he review the evidence that was submitted. It was a case that had joined the thick folder in Inej’s desk titled “Cold Case.” And while most detectives had their own grief about their stack of unsolved murders, Inej’s problem wasn’t never finding the killer, her problem was that the son of a bitch was a snake that always slithered just out of her reach.

“Okay, Matthias let’s wrap up and send the body to--”

Inej’s voice cut short as she caught sight of a chillingly familiar object unceremoniously dumped in a heap of garbage three feet away from the corpse.

She took out a rubber glove from her pocket, and approached the pile of trash with careful precision.

“What is it?” Matthias asked.

She didn’t answer. She stepped over some rotten fruit, and reached for the lone black glove that was too clean to have been thrown away, and too nice to be a forgotten clothing item.

Inej held the glove up, “See anything, detective?”

He gave her a skeptical look, but obliged by leaning in and studying the simple black glove.

“It’s been worn a lot, but it’s not dirty. The leather is high quality, and still in good shape.”

“So why would anyone throw this away when winter is coming? Or better yet, why has no one taken it yet?”

Matthias shrugged, while Inej’s gears turned and turned. There was no way he would have been so careless. He’s never made a slip up like this before. But then again, maybe this was a message. Maybe he was finally tired of the shadows, and wanted Inej to find his glove as some sort of taunt-- or challenge.

And he knew she would take him on it.

“Take the body to Wylan, and get the autopsy report as soon as possible. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Inej, what--”

“Also, there’s a marked folder in my desk. Grab it, and we’ll brief when I get back.”

“Where are you going?’

“I need to talk to someone.” She said distractedly.

She grabbed an evidence bag from one of the forensic agents, and stuffed the glove inside. She handed it back to the agent. “Get that tested, immediately.”

“Don’t do anything stupid without backup, Ghafa!” Matthias called after her.

She waved a hand behind her, but she was past being cautious. She folded herself back into the car and started inputting a familiar address into the GPS. If she was right about the glove, then she wasn’t letting Brekker get away from her. Not this time. She didn’t care if he was one of the deadliest assassins Ketterdam had ever seen. All men had to face justice someday, and it looked like Brekker’s time was drawing near.

#grishabigbang #gvbbfic2020 #KANEJ #Kaz Brekker #inej ghafa #matthias helvar #nina zenik #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #six of crows #soc #kanej detective au

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dobbysmaster · 3 years

Text

Prongsfoot

Summary: James starts to get very touchy with Sirius. More than usual. Everyone notices even Sirius himself. Let’s see why James has suddenly got so physical. 6th year and James never had a crush on lily he just teases her like friends do.

Everyone at Hogwarts have noticed that James is getting more touchy with Sirius, even the teachers knew for gods sake. No one knew why. But he always seemed to be clinging onto Sirius weather it was in the halls or the great hall or even classes. Everyone knew about that one potions class that James almost got blown up because he was to busy looking at Sirius.

In astronomy class James had sat down in Sirius’s lap instead of his own chair, then proceeded to make Sirius get up put his own chair on top of Sirius’s (the way you stack chairs) make Sirius sit down then sit back on him when the professor said that he had to sit in his own chair and not “mr.blacks”.

It was safe to say that everyone wanted to know why. There had been rumours that a slytherin started claiming that she heard gryffindor girls talking about how James always wanted to be cuddling with Sirius on the couches in the common room. The school believed it.

It got to the point where even Sirius wanted to know why. Sure James has always been a very touchy person, he remembers how in 1st year he had been shocked at how much James touched him. It was just casual, throwing an arm around his shoulder, clapping him on the back, he even grabbed sirius’s arm sometimes. When he asked James had said and I quote “well you’re taller than me so I have to find a way to drag you places” Sirius had taken that answer, and had not realized that James wanted to hold his hand instead. But that was 1st year this was 6st year.

And it was safe to say that now you never ever really saw James without Sirius and if you did was only because he was on his way to find Sirius.

A hufflepuff 1st year had asked him if they were dating once, James was in the library with Remus when she had asked loudly drawing everyone’s attention to them. The story of James blushing and stuttering out a weak “no” was going around the school in less than an hour.

Sure the Maurauder’s (minus James) were curious about the whole thing, even though Remus had an idea what it was about, but there was three specific encounters that they thought about the most.

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

Sirius was reading a muggle book in the common room, something that he did quite often that surprised the gryffindor’s, who knew that Sirius had a thing for muggle novels. Well James knew but that’s getting off topic.

Sirius was reading when James came back from a three hour Quidditch practice that had left him drained. He had already showered so he was clean and dry, with the exception of his wet mess of hair that took a while to dry.

When he walked in only a couple 1st years turned to see who walked in. But everyone looked when he walked over to the couch where Sirius was reading, it was only him on the couch so he had a lot of space his head was laying against one end of the couch propped up on a pillow and his feet on the other end of the couch, completely spread out.

The gryffindors watched as James plucked the book from his best mates (or so they thought) hands put it down. With a bit of struggle since the black heir didn’t seem to want to let go. Then when Sirius went to get up to get his book James pushed him back on his back than laid down on him. Everyone in the common room had been surprised but the most surprised had to have been Sirius. He had tensed up more than anyone thought possible. He was looking down at the boy on his chest with a shocked expression painted over his face. His hands were awkwardly frozen in the air, and he looked like he didn’t know where to put them.

James was laying on him with his head buried in sirius’s chest, his legs were intangled with sirius’s and his arms were at different places on sirius’s body. His right one was around sirius’s shoulders as much as it could be with the position, his left one was clutching the fabric of sirius’s shirt in a tight fist. It made sense that Sirius was a bit awkward, with the way James positioned himself he was almost straddling Sirius. then he wined out.

“Siri I’m tired from practice, cuddle meeeee.” They had never heard James sound so needy, but I guess that’s the reaction Sirius brought out of him, Remus thought with a smirk.

Remus now understood what James was trying to do and it made perfect sense. James loves Sirius maybe everyone was mistaken in which way. James was trying to find a way to tell Sirius without freaking him out, so he was easing Sirius into the relationship. Remus wasn’t an idiot he knew Sirius felt the same way for James as James did for him, Sirius was just better at hiding it. With the way he was raised it was no suprise that Sirius was an amazing liarnot just the “i can lie my way out of a prank” liar but the “I can overthrow the government in one night and get away with it” type liar and he had the brains for it too.

But James was also smart. Acting like a couple with Sirius so he wouldn’t panic as much when the truth comes out. It was a good plan if Remus was honest.

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

The second time that made them wonder if James was interested in Sirius as something more was on a hogsmsde weekend.

It was nearly Christmas so naturally it was getting colder as the days passed. The maurauder had just left honeyducks and were now attempting to get past the crowds to the three broomsticks.

When Peter saw a store he had been wanting to go to for a while and stopped. He starts tugging on sirius’s arm and jumping around like a toddler, not seeing the jealous looks James was sending him.

“Guys can we go? Can I go? Please Sirius, pleaseeeee. I know you’re cold but I’ll be quick. Please?” Says peter, sounding every inch of the the toddler he was.

“Fine be quick, I’m not going in there though so I’ll wait here for you.” Answer Sirius, making Peter grin and run off into the store.

“I’ll stay here.” Says James

“Me too.” Says Remus

Now they were just standing there, in silence. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, or anything it was just a bit awkward for Remus. James was doing what seemed to be James’s new normal, staring at Sirius. And Sirius as usual is oblivious to it (but not as much as we thought 😏).So that left one thing. Remus watching James watch Sirius, while Sirius watches the door that Peter had left behind a couple minutes ago.

Remus was a bit cold but hey so was everyone, well I mean they would be colder if they didn’t have the right coats. The boys were all dressed up warm, but Sirius had forgotten his mittens so he just stuffed his hands in his pockets and made sure not to trip over anything.

Remus raised an eyebrow in question but James didn’t seem to realize. So he watched quietly as James pulled his left gloves off and put it in his pocket.

What’s he doing that for? Remus thinks, I bargain his hands are going to fall of in this weather.

But has to stifle his laughter as James pulls sirius’s right hand from his jacket pocket and intertwine their hands together. He watches as Sirius turns to look at James with confusing expression on his face, that made him look a bit like a puppy, but James wasn’t looking at him. No he was going everything in his power to not meet sirius’s gaze.

Then Peter came out with a bag full of who knows what, and they continue their path to the three broomsticks. James never letting go of Sirius’s hand, not once.

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

The third time was just in the great hall, it wouldn’t be such a big deal if the whole school hadn’t seen it.

They were eating everything was normal, even the fact that James was being held back by a professor. Probably for causing trouble in class. What was abnormal was when James burst through the great hall doors drawing more attention to himself than needed.

Then he walked over to the gryffindor table like usual, except there was something in his steps that bothered Remus. James was walking the same way he did right before he started venting about something loudly. Expecting James to sit besides Sirius or Peter or Remus, everyone was surprised yet not surprised to see James sit on sirius. Literally, he had straddled the raven headed boy and hugged him.

James legs were on the opposit side of the bench from where sirius’s were and his legs were wrapped around the black heirs waist. James was wrapped around him like a koala, but he looked very comfortable. Arms wrapped around Sirius’s strong shoulders, and head buried in his neck.

The great hall had never been so quiet, even the teachers were looking at the two boys. With everyone looking at them they could see the way sirius’s eyes widened in surprise and a small blush climb up his face. It wouldn’t have been obvious on anyone else but Sirius was very pale, not a single freckle on his face, with skin that seemed to glow. Someone had once started a rumour that Sirius Black was a dark Veela, or a dark angle or something. Whenever a 1st years asked him about it he just gave them a smirk that made them blush ( regardless of their gender) and walked away. The rumours were easy to believe if you didn’t know better, Sirius was gorgeous everyone knew that and it seemed that his best mate knew it to.

No one would have heard conversation that went between them if it wasn’t for the silence of the great hall. But lucky for them they would get a front row seat to the show.

“James what are you doing?” His voice wasn’t disguised it was just curious.

“Sitting down.” Is the response he got from the potter boy.

“On me?”

“. . . Yes”

“why?”

“Why not?”

“. . .”

After a tense silence between the two, Sirius shrugged seemingly finding nothing wrong with James clinging to Him how a sloth clings to a tree and agreed with his logic.

“Fair enough, prongs” he said

After all this time the students still had no idea how those nickname came to be.

They watched Sirius wrap his left arm around James so he wouldn’t fall somehow and continued eating with his right hand.

That’s it, they thought, no reaction? Was James really on him so much that Sirius didn’t even react at times?

They got their answer to that question the next week.

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

It was a Saturday and a hogmades weekend. Sirius didn’t feel like leaving the school so naturally James stayed with him while Remus and Peter went with the other students.

The two boys were outside on Hogwarts grounds siting at the base of a beautiful tree. Well Sirius was sitting James was laying down with his head in sirius’s lap. The grey eyed boys long fingers we’re playing with James messy hair in a way that made him want to roll his eyes back into his skull behind his glasses.

The silence is comfortable between them but Sirius breaks it.

“You know you’ve been awfully touchy lately, Jamie” Sirius say, his eyes still closed with his head leaning back on the wood behind him. Merlin, James could look at him all day and never get tired, but he couldn’t he had to answer.

“Have I? I didn’t realize.” He answers and looks away from the Greek god infront of him.

“Oh you haven’t noticed? Wow prongsie bit dense aren’t we?” Sirius says with a chuckle, there was a note of joking in his voice. But James knew he wanted the truth, he should have know he would ask. You could never hide something from Sirius, I mean you could try but it wouldn’t work he would always find out eventually. The fact that he asked James rather then start one of his little investigations that he would’ve done if was anybody else (except for Remus & Peter of course) meant that he trust James enough to respect his boundaries and trust that he’ll tell Sirius. I could lie, James thought, but that would do no good Sirius can tell when I’m lying, well he can tell when anyone is lying ,really don’t know how he does it.

Right when he opened his mouth to tell him why it started raining, and not the small little drissel. I mean the “Mother Nature is trying to wipe us out” rain. Sirius jumps up with James right behind him trying to get back to the doors to Hogwarts before he was completely soaked, but it was no use they were already wet. Sirius grabs James hand and pulls him so James is in front only for James to slip on mud.

James fell with a not so manly Yelp and dragged Sirius down with him. The true definition of “if I fall im bringing you down with me”. James’s heart started beating almost painfully fast against his chest when Sirius falls on top of him. Not crushing James but catching himself just in time to stop doing that. But he was right in between the messy haired boys legs. And holy shit James was getting a boner, or was that from the cold, James thought. It doesn’t matter my crush/bestmate is in between my legs and I’m getting at rock on, he thought, shit.

James thought he’d be fine if Sirius got up, but then sirius’s hand started to slip on the mud only for him to catch himself, again. And James was looking into those gorgeous grey eyes that could hypnotize you. And he was convinced as long as he had Sirius he’d always be fine, he’ll he’d be more then fine, he’d be the happiest person ever.

Sirius was looking at James’s lips, they were so close but so far at the same time.

“Ummm is gonna get up” Sirius says, the awkwardness doesn’t sound like him. But he gets up, offeres James his hand and pulls him up.

It’s still raining but they aren’t rushing to get inside, they found something much better to rush into.

James can’t help it, with Sirius being so close and also being drenched in water does something to him. So he kissed the black heir, hard. Sirius doesn’t hesitate for a second to return it. He’s just as rough if not more. James hands are tangled in that soft wet raven coloured hair and sirius’s hands are everywhere ,on his hips, in his hair, his waist, even on his ass at one point. But he can’t concentrate, not with the feeling of sirius’s lips on his, there soft and fit perfectly with his. Sirius drags his tongue on his bottom lip and he immediately opens, sirius’s tongue is everything exploring. He taste better than James would have thought. Minty with a slight taste of raspberries. How that tastes good together James doesn’t know but it’s Sirius and it’s amazing and James doesn’t have time to think about it because all to soon Sirius is pulling away.

Breatheless and trying to get their breath back they stair at each other while painting, trying to get as much air as they can through their swollen lips.

Slowly Sirius says “so that’s why you’re acting clingy.”

It wasn’t a question it was a statement, and James cheeks star to heat up knowing that.

“Yes that’s my reason.” He answers

“ pretty good reason if I’m honest, Jamie” Sirius says with his famous grin. James blushes even more at the nickname, Sirius had started calling him that in 3rd year how was he expected not to fall for the boy when his name fell so flawlessly from his red lips.

“You think?”he asked nervously, if this doesn’t work out with Sirius I’ll be loosing the love of my life and best friend, he thought.

“Oh I don’t think I know. But I think I’m going to need to see more of your reason.” This cheeky bastard.

“I’m fine with showing you more.” James says through giggles , can you believe that, James fucking potter GIGILING.

With that thought he leans in to kiss his not so much best mate.

Little did they know that a 1st year ravenclaw was watching then with a small smile on their face. The next day everyone knew, and they were happy about it. People made money from the bets going on about the ship they called “jirius”. Remus was happy that the tension was resolved and the two boys could finally be happy together.

Who knew ravenclaws liked to gossip?

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davidobitch · 4 years

Text

Personal Assistant | Jeff Wittek

this was kinda fun. i love ceo jeff but i also love jeff in general.

“(Y/N), I need those papers back on my desk by the time you leave today,” your boss says as he walks by your desk, dropping a stack of files down in front of you. You let out a deep sigh knowing once again it’ll be a late night for you. There was no way you were going to get all these papers finished in the next 2 hours.

Your fingers tangled in your hair, not even halfway done with your work and you were supposed to be off in 30 minutes.

You watched your coworkers all leave one by one, leaving you the last person in the building along with your boss.

Jeff Wittek is the CEO of the biggest gym chain in L.A. and you were lucky enough to be one of his assistants. Working for him wasn’t too bad except for when he gets in these moods where he makes you do everything only a couple hours before you were supposed to leave. But he paid well, so what he says goes.

“(Y/N), office. Now,” Jeff called from the doorway. He watched your every move as you scrambled to gather the files you still have yet to finish up until you were walking into his office. You could feel his stare burning holes in your body, sending a shiver down your spine.

His hand skimmed over your lower back, letting it linger for a couple seconds as he walked past you.

“Sit, please,” Jeff motions to the chair in front of his desk. Doing as you’re told you set the files and his desk and placed yourself across from him, watching as he leans back in his chair.

Your cheeks burned thinking about how good he looks at this moment. His shirt unbuttoned enough to see his chain cascading down his chest, sleeves rolled up half way his arm. His hair, oh god how much you would love to run your hands through it.

“What do you think?” Jeff asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I- Sorry, what are we talking about again?” You bit your bottom lip, not even realizing he was having a full on conversation with you while you were fantasizing about him.

A small laugh escaped from Jeff’s lips, “I think you’re supposed to listen to your boss when they call you into their office,” his tongue gliding over his lips before a smirk takes over.

A strand of hair falling in front of your face as you drop your head, hiding your embarrassment, “I know, sorry, I was just thinking, uh, y‘know about the files. I still have more to finish but I’m almost done. I can st-“

Your rambling was cut short as Jeff’s hand cupped your chin, raising it so he can look at you.

You were talking too much to realize he was now standing in front of you, leaning against his desk. As if he couldn’t look more attractive than he did just a couple minutes ago, you were proven wrong.

“You talk a lot when you’re nervous,” Jeff says as he pushes the fallen hair behind your ear, grinning down at you. He removes his hand and shoves them in his pant pocket. You tried your hardest to keep your face from turning red, but by the warmth that was taking over your cheeks, you knew it wasn’t possible.

“So, uh, why- what, um. Sorry, what did you pull me in here for?” You tripped over your words, thoughts of Jeff were controlling your mind, not helping with the fire burning on your face.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately. You’ve been with the company for-”

“5 years,” you cut Jeff off, accidentally. It was supposed to be a thought but your brain said otherwise, “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to be said. It kind of just-”

“You’re rambling again, (Y/N),” Jeff’s smile growing wider as he spoke, “You apologize a lot, you ever noticed?”

Yes.

“Uh, no. Sorry- Oh! Sorry,” you covered your face with your hands, letting out a little groan. You’ve never been this nervous around your boss before, but something about tonight feels off.

You heard Jeff snicker as he pulled your hands from your face, “As I was saying, (Y/N), you’ve been with me for a while. I’ve watched you grow into an amazing person” His eyes trailed down your body before turning his attention back to you, “I want you to be my assistant,” Jeff says, making you look at him with confusion. But you were already his assistant? Well one of them.

Your mouth opened to say something, but all the words in your brain dissipated when you Jeff leaned forward, gripping your chair’s arm rests, slowly sliding his hands backwards until his face was mere inches away from yours, “My personal assistant,” Jeff’s gaze flickered to your lips, licking his as he looked back at you.

Your breath caught in your throat. Well this is a turn of events. Is he… No. He’s totally not into me. Your eyes raked down the sight in front of you. Pieces of Jeff’s hair fell in front of his face, his chain slipping out of his shirt.

Jeff took your silence as the answer he needed. The second your eyes found his again, his lips collided with yours with so much force you felt like the chair was going to tip over.

Maybe he totally is into me...

You were taken back, at first, but when Jeff ran his tongue across your lip, you melted into his touch. Your hands gripped his biceps as he lifted you off the chair. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he turned around, setting you on this desk. He pushed almost everything off the table, including the files you so neatly organized for him.

He pulled away and glanced down, “They’re not that important anyways,” he mumbles against your neck, searching for your sweet spot. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more space to work with. Jeff smiled against your skin when you accidentally let out a small moan. Your hands made their way into his hair, his fingers trailing up your thigh, pushing your dress up with them.

“Jeff,” you managed to breathe out. His lips hum against you, waiting for your answer, “I- We- What if someone walks in,” your voice was shaky as Jeff continued to bite and suck on every inch of your neck, eventually moving down to your chest.

“Everyone went home,” taking a second to bring his face back to you, his thumb traces your lip, “It’s just you and me, baby,” his voice was barely audible, like he was telling you a secret nobody else could know.

That was all the confirmation you needed before bringing his lips back to yours. Jeff grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to his body. Sitting half way off his desk, he hiked one of your legs up higher giving him better access.

His hand slides in between your thighs, roaming over every bit of skin except where you needed him most. Just like that, his thumb presses down on your clit, causing you to involuntarily buck your hips.

Pulling away from the kiss, your head falls back as Jeff moves your panties to the side, “You’re this wet for me already?” A smirk toying his lips, “I always knew you had the hots for me,” dragging his finger up your folds painfully slow.

“Please, Jeff,” you managed to say without moaning.

“Please what?” His finger circling your clit.

“Please don’t play with me like that.”

As if on queue, his fingers slip inside you, a high pitch moan echoing around the room. His rhythm starts off slow but quickens with every pant you let out.

His fingers curl up, hitting the right spot, “God- Fuck- Jeff- I, oh fuck” And just like that he removes his fingers.

You can’t help but whimper by the sudden loss of contact. “You think I would let you cum that easily?” Jeff’s lips ghosted over yours as he spoke. You drop your legs from his waist and hop off the desk.

“I guess two can play at that game then,” you hand trails down his chest, fidgeting with his belt buckle. You push him back gently, making him fall into the chair you were previously sitting at. Getting his belt and pants button undone, you tug them down with his boxers. Your eyes widen seeing how big Jeff is. You figured he was packing..but not like this.

You tease him the same way he did to you. Your fingers dragging up his thighs. Jeff’s hand wraps around his cock, his thumb running over his tip. “You wanna help me or am I gonna have to help myself?” Jeff growls, starting to pump his hand.

It didn’t take long before you wrapped your lips around his head, swirling your tongue around the tip. You looked up at Jeff, batting your lashes at him. His hand running through his hair, grabbing at the ends. Your cheeks hollow around Jeff’s cock as you bob your head. You removed your mouth, replacing it with your hand instead only for Jeff to grab it, halting your movements.

“You’re gonna have to stop if you want me to last,” Jeff growls through his teeth, not wanting to cum before you do.

In one swift movement, he stands up and bends you over his desk. Jeff bunched your dress up around your waist as he pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them to the side.

The tip of Jeff’s cock slides up between your folds before sliding into you completely. Your body falls onto the desk, overwhelmed with pleasure as Jeff thrusts into you harder each time. As if you didn’t think this feeling could get any better, Jeff lifts one of your legs on the desk and pulls you up to him. His hand wraps around your throat, his lips pressed to your shoulder.

“I- Jeff- I’m close,” you moan out. He removes himself from you to turn you around. Jeff lifts you back onto his desk and without warning, he slams himself back into you. You yelp from the intensity and drop your head against Jeff’s shoulders.

With one hand gripping your hips, he free hand grabs your jaw, bringing your face to his. “Let it go, baby,” Jeff snakes his hand down your stomach to rub your clit.

“Fuck me. Oh! Fuck,” you draw your moans out as your ride out your high only seconds before Jeff does.

“Fuckin’ christ (y/n),” Jeff’s breathing was heavy as he pulls out of you only to drop to his knees. He glides his tongue over your pussy, making you jump from over-sensitivity. “Gotta make sure my girl’s clean,” he says as he stands back up.

“So is this in the job description of being your personal assistant?” You question as you fix your dress. You lean against the desk and watch as Jeff doesn’t bother with buttoning his pants or his belt. God he cannot get any hotter.

His lips pressed to yours softly before pulling away to smirk at you, “This is the job description.”

#jw #jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek smut #masterlist #imagine #prompt #the vlog squad #vlog squad imagine

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x OC)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about Maggie’s past. Maggie and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Maggie playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love.

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily.

“Yo, Brooksy!”

Spencer stepped back from Maggie, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Maggie. “So, are we going out or what?”

Maggie groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Maggie chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Maggie stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Maggie was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor.

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Maggie’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Maggie’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Maggie and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool.

“Maggie is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Maggie insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.

“The field trip!” Maggie turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“So many things,” Sam baited.

Maggie covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening.

“Okay, so many things happened,” Maggie started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Maggie composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured.

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Maggie agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in.

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Maggie turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.”

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Maggie clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Maggie dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles.

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Maggie lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space.

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Maggie lamented to him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Maggie complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first.

“You know what’s annoying?”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Maggie might have been with before him.

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Maggie had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored.

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

“Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Maggie slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee.

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Maggie with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Maggie with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs.

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy.

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door.

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips.

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.”

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again.

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

“I knew it!” Michael cried.

He wrapped himself around Maggie’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Maggie forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Brooks.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Brooks’ boyfriend.”

Maggie’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?”

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Maggie into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hen!” Michael called.

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him.

Maggie tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”