#but they really did fan the flames before pulling out some weird changes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deathbecomesthem · 1 month

Text

A Lesson In Anatomy | 4.5K

+18 ONLY - Minors DNI

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Contains smut and feelings. Read at your own risk.

*This story belongs in the No Shelter universe, but it can be read as a one shot. I wanted to make sure this was linked on this blog before I continue the next chapter of the series. Consider this the prequel.

Hawkins, Summer of 1986 - No UD

---

Eddie’s been weird lately. He’s been quiet and almost shy around you, and you’ve spent the last few nights turning over possible reasons for this. In your dark room with only the sound of your fan to accompany the thought spiral your brain pushes you through, you close your eyes and picture your good friend Eddie. His easy smile, his flirtations. He’s become everything to you in the last few months, and it’s putting you on edge to see him pull away from you.

The last time you remember having an easy time with Eddie was two weeks ago, at the lake. The younger kids were spending the hot summer day at the arcade and movie theater, it wasn’t missed on you the way they all had been awkward about stripping down to their bathing suits this summer. No amount of reassurance would change that, only time and maturity. It gave you, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, Steve, Jon, and Argyle a chance to drink and smoke without worrying about being a bad influence.

And flirt. So much of that. Especially with Eddie. He’s gone from acquaintance, to friend, to best friend in the matter of months.

The truth about how you feel about him is between you and yourself. You treat everyone the same, but you have to watch yourself. You have to keep your eyes on him no longer than the others. You have to make sure you take your fingers from his arm after pushing him away, not let the back of your fingers trail down his soft skin to try to pull out the gooseflesh. If you offer him the flame of your lighter, you have to hold it out to everyone. You won’t survive it if you show him your secret desire and he rejects it. It’s better to share your affections openly with everyone if it means he gets the smallest taste of how much he means to you.

So, what happened that day while you all splashed around in the cool lake water? You rewind and playback any scenes you can remember. It was perfect, the hot sun beating down on sweaty bodies, the smell of baby oil in the air. The night before lake day you had been on a date with Dale. You were particularly fresh with everyone. Really turned on the charm.

The night before you and Dale tangled up in each other’s limbs. Dale had pumped in and out of you, his stamina had been impressive. He whispered things in your ear about how good you felt, how wet and warm you felt around him. He’d found the sweet spot on your neck. It was nice. A pleasant experience, especially for the first time with a new lover. Sometimes those experiences were unpleasant, but Dale had even put his mouth on you. He took his time with his tongue spreading your lips and lapping at you. He had drunk you in. It was nice.

“How was your date with Dale last night? Did he hit a home run?” Robin’s whispers were anything but quiet, and her question caught the attention of the boys while they dug around in the cooler next to the two of you.

“Jesus, Robin.” You scold her, but it’s no use. The damage is done, and everyone stands stock-still to hear your answer. These topics are not off the table with all of you, but it’s always hard to talk about when you feel the heat of chestnut eyes watching. “Ok, yeah. We had some fun last night. It was nice.”

“Nice, huh?” Argyle’s smile is skeptical, and he’s too loose right now. The weed he brought with him has made his tongue looser than normal, and it was already untethered. “No fireworks? You guys have been hot and heavy for a while. What happened?”

You consider lying and saying, “oh it was amazing. The heavens opened above my head. I was so close I could feel the pearly gates run across my fingers.” But no. They’d see through it.

“It was nice. I enjoyed it. But no, no fireworks. Maybe with a little bit of, uh – instruction?” You stop talking, fearing you might say something that would be embarrassing for Dale if he knew you were talking about this.

“Oh, no. Does he not know how to eat the peach?” Argyle gasps out the question, and everyone snickers. “You gotta tell him. That’s not right. Did you fake it?”

This is when you realize that not everyone is giggling. Eddie’s face and chest are as red as a tomato. It’s not the first time you’ve talked about your sexual conquests in front of him, but the thought of making anyone in the group uncomfortable pains you. So you pivot. Eddie’s embarrassed and you feel bad about kissing and telling.

“Arg, be a good boy and roll us a joint, hm?” You bat your eyelashes at him and give him your sweetest tone. No harm done, but time to change the subject.

The rest of the day at the lake went by with laughter. No worries for any of you while you ate fruit salad and turkey sandwiches and drank your beers. It was one of those magical days that is both endless and gone in the blink of an eye. A moment captured in your mind’s photo album.

Your eyes pop open. It was that conversation. You know it now. You remember the way Eddie had flushed, and ever since then he’s been off. The two of you talk about everything, you can’t imagine he’s suddenly shy about sex. He loves telling you about his sex-capades. You’ve seen him naked on several occasions, he has no shame.

Well, maybe he does. Maybe you brushed against a sensitive spot without even realizing it exists.

You call Eddie as soon as the clock hits noon. It’s Sunday, he’s not working today. Neither are you. Normally, that would mean the two of you would have some kind of plans, but for some reason you don’t this weekend. That won’t do. You let his phone ring seven times before you hang your back on the receiver.

You look at it for a minute, willing it to ring back with Eddie’s voice being on the other end, but it doesn’t. So, you dial the numbers again. On the fourth ring, you hear a click that tells you your call is being answered this time.

“Hello.” Eddie’s voice is rattling, and you hear him clear his throat while he waits for a response.

“Ed, hey!” You cringe at the sound of your voice, loud and chipper. It’s too much, he just woke up and he’s cranky. He’s always cranky before he gets some kind of caffeine in his system.

“Hey.” His voice is a little clearer. His stilted response is a shot through your gut.

“Hey, I was wondering if I could come over. I miss you, and I want some Ed time.” Your words are true, and your meaning is clear.

“That’s sweet,” Eddie clears his throat again, a stalling measure. You think he’s going to say no, and you feel panic start to set in when he lets out a heavy breath. “Uh, yeah, come over. We can hang. I miss you too.”

You make your way to his place slowly. You stop at the gas station on the way to fill up despite having half a tank already and make sure to grab Eddie’s favorite candy – Twizzlers – before hopping back into the driver’s seat. It’s a sweaty day, and your car doesn’t have air conditioning. The open windows do little more than move the sweat crawl across your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling that only stirs up the anxiety you feel in the pit of your stomach more. You feel like you’re walking into the line of fire, and you don’t know why.

Eddie’s sitting on the worn sofa outside of his trailer when you pull your car up to his place. He’s in sweats, and he looks like he’s just woken up even though hours have passed since your phone call earlier. The cigarette he’s holding between his fingers is burned to the filter, yet he still takes one last drag before dropping it into the bucket next to the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Sugar.” Eddie’s greeting falls short. His smile is small and doesn’t reach the corner of his eyes. You can see lines running down his puffy face. He must have gone back to bed after talking to you. You brace yourself for grouchy Eddie.

“Eddie,” you’re bringing enough energy for the both of you as you bound up the stairs to reach him, “I brought your favorite. Come on.” You don’t wait for an answer, you grab his hand to bring him inside the trailer. It’s too hot to sit outside, and he has a window unit in his bedroom that will keep you cool enough for the time being.

You pretend to not notice that his feet are dragging while you pull. It’s occurred to you just now that he’s pouting about something. He’s mad at you or annoyed at least. That won’t do either. He needs to quit being a child and talk to you.

“Sit.” You point to the edge of his bed. You catch a small eye roll before he flops himself down. He put his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. He really does look like a little kid being put into time out.

You pull over the chair he has sitting in the corner and face it towards him before taking your own seat. Eye to eye, you look at him and try not to be distracted by the way his eyes pull at you. They always do. You push it back and remember that he’s your friend, and you’re here because – why? Because something has upset him, and it’s something you did or said. You match his posture and put your own head into your hands and keep your eyes on his even when he looks down to the side.

“Eddie, my sweet Eddie. I love you a lot, but I’m not giving you a single Twizzler until you tell me why you’re mad at me.” You’re keeping it light, but you feel like a knife is cutting you deep.

“I’m not mad at you, Sugar. I’ve just been in my own head is all. It happens, I’m sorry.” Eddie’s still not looking back at your face. His fingers have started drumming across his cheek and his left leg has started to bounce. His eyes are still fixed to a spot on the carpet at your feet when one of his hands darts out to grab a strand of licorice from the bag in your hands, but you’re too quick and scoot your chair back a couple of inches.

“Ok, you’re not mad. Cool. Then why can’t you even look at me right now, huh?” Eddie’s eyes finally connect with yours as an act of defiance, but you accept it as a win. “Is it because I was talking about Dale? That’s –“

“Sugar, I don’t want to talk about it. You can keep the Twizzlers.” Eddie’s spitting venom in your direction, and you’re even more confused.

“Great, I’ll keep the Twizzlers. Jesus Christ, Ed. You’re acting like a child, what did I do, huh? Other than say I had a nice time with Dale. And I did, it’s not his fault he doesn’t know what the clit is!” You’re ranting at Eddie, spitting your own words at him hoping they cut enough to reopen the wound that he’s trying so hard to hide from you. His face drains of color while you tear at him.

“It’s not about Dale, Sugar. It’s not about you either.” His eyes are softer as he scans your face. His own anger seems to have faded away when you met it with your own. “Not really, anyway. It’s embarrassing.”

You think now about how he’s been acting, and yes, that feels true. He’s holding onto some private humiliation, and whatever you said under that hot summer sun seems to have wounded him.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me, Ed. I love you, you’re like my best friend.” There are tears in your voice, and you’re biting them back. “Not like, you are my best friend these days. Don’t you know that?”

You can see the gears turning with the beat of his bouncing leg. He looks like he’s ready to explode, and you worry for a moment. If his humiliation is deep enough, he’ll lash out at you, and you may never be able to make amends with him. You’re like two fires spitting sparks at each other, and you’re afraid something important might burn.

Eddie’s demeanor is guarded, but he speaks after a moment. He’s trusting you with this secret that’s been gnawing at him, “Sugar, I know you like to chat with our friends, but this is strictly between me and you.” You take his hand in yours and give him a nod of understanding, urging him to continue. “When you and Argyle were talking about Dale, it made me think about something that’s been buggin’ me.”

You keep your features lax. You don’t want to express the confusion you’re feeling. You want him to keep going. So, you squeeze his hand a little tighter letting your flesh dig into the metal cross he wears on his middle finger.

“I, uh, I think I’m doin’ it wrong.” Eddie’s mouth moves, but his eyes stay focused on yours. He’s watching for any acknowledgement of what he’s saying. You give none, so he continues. “When I’m,” he breathes through his nose in frustration, “when I’m ‘eating the peach’, girls never seem to like it as much as I thought they would. Or sometimes I think they’re pretending.”

“Oh.” You can’t hide the surprise in your voice because this is not what you expected. Eddie Munson doesn’t give good head? That seems so unlikely you can’t help but huff out a laugh. “No, I’m sorry. Ed, I’m not laughing at you. You’re telling me that the girls you’re with don’t like it when you eat them out?”

“I don’t know. They never complain. Never. I just know something is off. I can tell. I could spend an hour down there, and I’m not getting the results, Sugar. Can you help me?” Eddie accentuates his plea by grabbing both of your hands and holding them tightly in his own. You can feel his calloused fingertips and can’t help but imagine what they must feel like against your most sensitive places. “Help me Sugar-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”

His joke works, and the tension is broken. You tear your hands from him and grab the bag of Twizzlers off your lap and toss them in his face before hopping on the bed next to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, you’ve missed this easy intimacy, and the dam is broken now. You can talk to him. No more secrets.

“Yes, Ed. I can help you. But you’re going to have to explain to me what your process is if you want my help. Or, uh” you stop yourself before you say anything that can be misinterpreted exits your giant mouth. “you know what, let’s just start with you telling me and we’ll go from there.”

You can’t see the way that Eddie’s eyebrows raise up under his fringe, because your cheek is resting against his arm, but you don’t miss the way something moves under his gray sweatpants. Your own eyes bulge, and you think you must have imagined it.

Eddie’s nerves are gone, and he dives in. He goes into great detail about how he uses his tongue. How he likes to lay it flat against their slit and drag it across their soft hole. How he runs a finger along that path. How it feels when he pushes his tongue inside someone. What it tastes like. You’re so thankful he can’t see your face, but you’re afraid he can feel the skin of your cheek burn through his shirt. You’re afraid he’ll catch a whiff of the arousal that’s pooling between your legs. You try to focus on his words, on his descriptions. It sounds wonderful, the thought of him tasting you the way he’s describing. It takes great effort to remember that you’re supposed to be helping him. And then you realize.

“Eddie, what about their clit?” You interrupt his diatribe about how soft the inner lips feel against his tongue, unlike anything he’s ever had in his mouth before, “it’s nice to feel a tongue like that, don’t get me wrong, but don’t you ever play with their clit?”

Eddie stops talking completely, so you peel your face off his shoulder to look at him. He looks confused and annoyed. Oh no.

“Sugar, can you elaborate for me?” Eddie’s voice is level but edged with something. The embarrassment is back, and you can see him fighting against it. He trusts you to not make fun.

“Oh, Ed. I’m sorry. Do you want me to explain what a clitoris is?” You ask the question with nonchalance in your voice. He doesn’t know it, but just mentioning the small sex organ has yours throbbing in answer. It’s saying, yes, tell him. Tell him how you want him to touch and suck. Tell him how to take me between his pretty red lips.

“Yes, please. I feel really stupid, but I don’t know what that is. Christ, I’ve been with loads of women, and no one has fucking mentioned-“ You put your hand over his mouth before he can continue. You don’t want to hear about loads of other women right now.

“Eddie, think about your own,” you motion down to the crotch of his pants, “business.” He giggles at you, low and sweet. “Shut up. Think about your dick, ok? You know when a girl’s giving you head, and she sucks real nice at the tip?”

Eddie gulps, you imagine he’s thinking about Cindy Manes’ cherry-colored lips wrapped around the head of his hard cock. Spit gathering at the corners of her perfect mouth. He nods and you continue.

“Women have a little spot above the vagina. It’s up close to wear the seam of our slit begins. It’s like a kind of hard nub.” You let yourself get lost in the technical stuff, it makes it easier to push on and forget that your legs are sticky from how turned on this entire situation has you. “It’s like the head of your dick, only more sensitive. Most women can’t have an orgasm unless you stimulate it. It will get bigger when we get aroused, kind of like when you get hard only it’s a lot smaller than what you’ve got.”

Like the cat that’s got the cream, you see Eddie smirking, “Yeah, what I’ve got is a lot bigger.” He spreads his hands a foot apart and his eyes go as wide as his shit eating grin.

The tension in the air evaporates, and you grab his midsection to tickle him. You want to make him pay for being crass. You want to make him pay for making you laugh at such a childish joke. It’s hands grappling for a moment before you find yourself underneath Eddie with his hair covering both of your faces like a curtain. His nose is almost touching yours, and for a moment you’re breathing each other’s air. You can feel his erection dig into your thigh, and you know now that he feels it too. That this conversation isn’t just embarrassing because he didn’t know, but because it’s with you. Someone he wants.

You lift your head off his mattress and meet his lips with yours. You wait to see. Let him decide if he wants to open his mouth and let you inside. A beat passes, and his lips part as his knee makes its way between your legs giving him leverage. A hand is behind your head. As your lips dance and tongues meet, your head drops back into the mattress. You’re holding onto each other and trying to keep yourself in this spot without floating off. This is what you’ve wanted for so long, and there’s no going back.

“Eddie, hey,” you manage to pull your lips away from him despite his own desperately chasing after them. Instead, he busies his with that spot on your neck just behind your ear while you talk, “Eddie. Do you want me to show you what I was talking about?”

Eddie’s hum sends a vibration against your skin, his teeth begin to skate against your skin. He answers around your flesh and his words shoot straight through you and down into the place that’s been aching for him, “Yes, Sweetheart. I wanna make you see stars.”

The following kisses are hungry, messy. Spit pools under your tongue while his knee presses into your center. Your fingers thread through his hair, and you pull to release the need that’s thrumming inside you. His whimper is music to your ears. You think this is a dream, and you do not care. Let it be. For now, you have him, even if it’s only in your imagination. He’s yours to taste, to smell, to touch, to hear. And you belong to him.

“Please, Eddie. Please.” You pull his hair harder, pulling him away from your face so you can see him. His mouth is open, his eyes are wide. His groan is deep in his chest, and he is looking into you. Just for a moment, he’s seeing you. He’s not just touching someone, kissing someone, he’s with you.

“I’m yours. Anything, my love. Everything I have. Show me.” He tells you while he gently removes your hand from his hair so he can make his journey south. It’s slow, and he kisses your clothed body every few inches during his descent until he reaches the waist of your jeans. He rests his head against your hip while his fingers work at your button fly. Each pop sends a jolt of anticipatory pleasure through you. You’re already writhing under his attention. He’s shushing you while he gently pulls your jeans down to your ankles and over your feet.

“You smell so sweet. I should have known, Sugar. This is better than I ever could have thought.” Eddie’s running his finger down your slit, over the cotton of your purple underwear. When you put them on this morning, you would not have admitted that you chose them for Eddie. They’re high cut with lace along the edges. Prettier than an everyday pair.

“You’re teasin’ me, Ed.” You manage to breathe the words out while your hips rock up to meet his finger. Your body is begging for more than what he’s giving you.

“Not teasin’. These are pretty,” Eddie hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear, brushing against the soft hair underneath. He pulls them down so he can see you fully and lets out a breath of relief. “But not as pretty as this is.”

Eddie kisses your mound sweetly while a finger begins to dance between the lips of your pussy. He’s dipping into you gently, gathering the wetness there, before he adds more pressure. He’s mapping you, exploring with quiet patience. He’s listening, he’s tasting, he’s feeling. And then, while his mouth searches around the edges of your hips, his finger brushes against that spot. The one he’s only just learned about.

“There.” It’s a whisper, a prayer, spoken into the air around you. You only know he hears you when his mouth travels across your skin to meet the tip of his finger. He feels it now, he rubs at it, gently. He wants to memorize how it feels, he needs to know how to find it again. And then, his mouth is on your button. The tip of his tongue dances around.

You know there are words and sounds coming out of your mouth, and Eddie hears them all. While his mouth works, he doesn’t just listen to you, he hears you. Each sound, each word is an instruction. It’s a game of hotter and colder. He wants you to burn, to catch fire. So he hears you and moves accordingly.

You vaguely know that there are fingers inside of you, and you think you’ll have to teach him how to use them next time. Next time. You two have time. For now, you let yourself get lost in his mouth. You let him consume you. He knows what he’s doing now because you’ve taught him. He knows the secret that so many men never learn. Eddie is the best student when it comes to pleasure. When it comes to learning you.

Your orgasm builds quickly, your face is turned and buried in his pillow. You smell him on it while your hips rock up and meet his perfect mouth. Waves of pleasure that come faster and faster. His lips are holding tight to your nub. He’s never letting it go now that he knows what it can do. His fingers move with the rhythm of your hips, until it happens.

The sounds that leave your mouth are choked sobs. Your cunt is fluttering around his digits, and his mouth works you through each intense flash of pleasure. The stars behind your eyelids dance along with your body. You sit in your peak and groan like an animal until your body finally drops back into the mattress. Eddie’s mouth reluctantly pulls away from you when you firmly push his forehead away from you.

Eddie’s head rests against the bare flesh of your center. You can feel his hot breath fan across your wet pubic hair while you let the aftershocks slowly wane. You’re needy when you reach down and pull him up by the collar of his shirt. You need his face, you need his skin. You need his arms. He smells of you. His arms pull a blanket around your bare body. The cool air of the window unit has made your skin break out in gooseflesh. Eddie’s fingers run gently across your features, watching the way your open mouth still takes short and shallow breaths while you return to yourself.

He stays like that for a few moments. The uncomfortable cold and wet feeling in his pants becomes too much, and he gently shushes you when you reach out for him when he loosens his embrace.

“Just give me a minute, Sugar. Let me change.”

You watch him with blurry eyes as he deposits his pants and boxers, wet with his own cum, and puts on fresh clothes. You see his flaccid cock and think that next time you’ll show him how good your mouth can feel. You need a little nap first, in the embrace of Eddie. Your Eddie.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #no shelter

246 notes · View notes

fintan-pyren · 1 month

Text

Sometimes, life is busy. You shouldn't let that stop you from enjoying a good book, but who has the time to read the same words over and over again?

For your enjoyment and convenience, I have removed all duplicate words from the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book.

blurry fractured memories swam through sophie’s mind but she couldn’t piece them together tried opening her eyes and found only darkness something rough pressed against wrists ankles refusing to let move a wave of cold rushed as the horrifying realization dawned was hostage cloth across lips stifled cry for help sedative’s sweet aroma stung nose when inhaled making head spin were they going kill would black swan really destroy their own creation what point project moonlark then everblaze drug lulled toward dreamless oblivion fought back clinging one memory that could shine tiny spot light in thick inky haze pair beautiful aquamarine fitz’s first friend new life ever maybe if hadn’t noticed him day museum none this have happened no knew it’d been too late even white fires already burning curving city filling sky with sticky smoke spark before blaze miss foster mr sweeney’s nasal voice cut blaring music he yanked earbuds out by cords you decided you’re smart pay attention information sophie forced open not wince bright fluorescents reflected off vivid blue walls amplifying throbbing headache hiding sweeney mumbled shrinking under glares now staring classmates pulled shoulder-length blond hair around face wishing hide behind it exactly kind went way avoid why wore dull colors lurked blocked other kids who at least foot taller than survive twelve-year-old high school senior perhaps can explain listening your ipod instead following along held up like evidence crime though probably he’d dragged class natural history balboa park assuming his students be excited about all-day field trip didn’t seem realize unless giant dinosaur replicas came started eating people cared tugged loose eyelash nervous habit stared feet there make understand needed cancel noise hear chatter from dozens tourists echoed fossil-lined splashed cavernous room mental voices real problem scattered disconnected pieces thoughts broadcast straight into brain being hundreds tvs different shows same time sliced consciousness leaving sharp pains wake freak secret burden since fell hit five years old she’d blocking ignoring nothing helped never tell anyone wouldn’t you’ve above lecture don’t give asked pointed enormous orange duckbill center how lambeosaurus differs dinosaurs we’ve studied repressed sigh flashed an image card front display glanced entered photographic recorded every detail recited facts twisted scowl classmates’ grow increasingly sour weren’t fans resident child prodigy called curvebuster finished answer grumbled sounded know-it-all stalked exhibit next over follow thin separating two rooms block muffled grabbed little relief nice job superfreak garwin chang boy wearing t-shirt said i’m gonna fart sneered shoved past join they’ll write another article child teaches lame-o-saurus still bitter yale had offered full scholarship rejection letter arrived few weeks allowed go parents much pressure young end discussion so attending closer smaller san diego college year fact some annoying reporter newsworthy enough post local paper chooses ivy league complete photo freaked wasn’t strong word more half rules unnecessary front-page articles pretty worst nightmare they’d newspaper complain editor seemed unhappy story run place on arsonist terrorizing trying figure mistake bizarre white-hot flames smelled burnt sugar took priority everything especially unimportant girl most ignore or used caught sight tall dark-haired reading yesterday’s embarrassing black-and-white looked seen particular shade teal smooth sea glass beach glittered flickered expression gaze disappointment decide shrugged leaning closed distance between smile belonged movie screen heart did weird fluttery thing is pointing picture nodded feeling tongue-tied fifteen far cutest talking i thought squinted brown uh yeah sure say reason felt conversation accent british somehow crisper which bothered know are suck words soon left mouth course boys cute made mushy perfect returned told hulking greenish standing albertosaurus all its lizardesque glory me do think that’s it’s absurd

isn’t see saw small t rex: big teeth ridiculously short arms fine laughed i’ll get meet turned leave just classes kindergartners barreled fossil crushing screaming knock step whole realm pain kids’ stinging high-pitched needles many once angry porcupine attacking hands darted rubbing temples ease stabbings skull remembered alone reaction locked forehead pained imagined seconds hushed blood drain mean created plenty racket shrieks squeals giggles plus sixty individual chattering away gasped solved earlier everyone boy’s distinct accented speaking totally completely silent possible whispered widened moved whisper telepath flinched skin itch gave can’t believe backed exit reveal total stranger okay holding sort wild animal calm afraid froze my name’s fitz added stepping name searching sign part joke joking thinking wobbled spent seven find someone else world tilted sideways steady here looking twelve we better question: want air jerked bolted door stumbling shaky legs rhythm sucked breaths ran down stairs burned lungs bits ash flew ignored wanted space strange come shouted picked pace raced courtyard base steps wide fountain grassy knolls sidewalk got inside because poor quality footsteps gaining wait pouring energy sprint fighting urge glance shoulder halfway crosswalk sound screeching tires reminded both ways terrified driver struggling stop car plowed right die second blur swerved missing inches jumped curb sideswiped streetlight heavy steel lantern cracked plummeted instincts hand shot pulling strength somewhere deep gut pushing fingertips force collide falling gripping extension arm dust settled floated feel weighed ton put familiar warned bringing trance shrieked dropped without hurtled watch yanking split crashed ground impact knocked tumbled body broke fall landed chest stretched flurry questions swirling coherent idea sat replaying sense need witnessed miracle tighten panic let’s overwhelmed plan resist street reached intersection north zoo where crowd during firestorm running missed hearing changed terrifying scenarios involved government agents throwing dark vans experiments watched road ready bolt anything suspicious zoo’s massive parking lot relaxed outside milling cars happen witnesses slowed walk breath promise sincere easier opened hesitated supposed am trust won’t considered father sent specific age observe report always talk frowned disappointed himself does means expected threw what’s wrong touched eyelids suddenly selfconscious figured again awe us stopped whoa hang ‘one us’ frowning spotted fanny-pack-wearing within earshot deserted corner ducking green minivan there’s easy we’re human stunned speak hysterical laugh escaped repeated shaking riiiiiight insane trusting kicked stomped telling truth minute last listen plea humans vanished gone reeling leaned argued taking clear set pole minutes ago almost three managed finally saying alien erupted laugher cheeks grew hot also relieved compose elf hung foreign object belong visions tights pointy ears danced giggling expect guess stick wavy spikes rock star good crazy agreed refused serious frodo ring save middle-earth toys hid corners showed oh ought folded slender silver wand intricate carvings etched sides tip round crystal sparkled sunlight magic asking rolled actually pathfinder spun latch top dangerous you’ll faded depends take concentrate matter happens proof prove whisk land curious harm someone’s willed palms sweat fingers laced stupid tingled everywhere scanning warning look scowled bit tongue concentrated racing seriously become those silly girls counted raising facet beam refracted tightened grip forward warm tingling million feathers swelling underneath tickling giggle melted goo keeping oozing blanket warmth wrapped faster blink eye might squeaked stood edge glassy river lined impossibly trees fanning emerald leaves among puffy clouds row castles walt disney throw rocks kingdom golden path led sprawling elaborate domed buildings built brick-size jewels each structure color snowcapped mountains surrounded lush valley crisp cool

cinnamon chocolate sunshine places exist less appear forgotten released realized hard squeezing unable castle towers oddly our capital call eternalia heard shangri-la lost cities you’d stories rarely ridiculous things elves burst quiet gentle breeze brushing soft murmur traffic hammering unspoken very silence rising tiptoes view streets ghost town building towered others stones emeralds banner flying tribunal progress everyone’s watching proceedings council basically royalty holds broken law they’re deal laws well shook wrap cringing question funniest glared funny regained control try cling remaining strands sanity sun casting ray onto leaping hitched ride headed impossible infinite travel haven’t theory relativity stumped dumbest i’ve albert einstein huh dumb argue confident unnerving harder waited feather sensation dryer scattering directions until rubber band later shivering ocean whipping glowed carved moonlight failed passed bring herself true science book read confused observed ‘hey learned smug grin best minds begin comprehend complexities reality elves’ ahead slowest trump proper education shoulders sagged sank four scenery blurred whether tears entire lie nudged hey fault believed taught i’d done works bells chimed large gateway floor-length velvet capes draped tunics emerged followed creatures marching military formation rocky pants muscles prominently flat noses coarse gray pleated folds armadillo goblins signed treaty hating trembling dressed forbidden lumenaria worlds gnomes dwarves ogres trolls mentioning focused motioned farther squatting betrayed ancient councillors intelligent rule planning war ancients violence disappeared forbid any contact devices working defend race famine problems chilled frigid wind licking who’d known must’ve after eventually evolved myths simple yes peeked glowing crucial identity clicked spinning thousand loud clang gate stepped shadows sleek cobalt home jolted mom bus bland boring stole incredible blinding swept smoky fresh surprised recognized plain square houses narrow tree-lined house ask lived coughed handle putting pollutes planet these aren’t normal chemical smells usually wildfires smell barbecue melting cotton candy burn rain arsonists admitted pocket hoping notice dad wants knows neither important meant mystery he’s happy careful please shown today thank act family doesn’t suspect squared courage telepaths special ability rarer ones thirteen six months corrected liking youngest manifest start reverberated scanned positive waking hospital moment forget hooked kinds machines hovering shouting barely separate hold happening group adults haunted worry brows narrowed doing extra private keep wall weak hated bossed answering concerned action worked imagining stretching shadow mine blurted pale process hardest worries live fumbled answers long trouble knees link amazing will tomorrow panicked battered cluttered living phone she’s receiver having reeled daggers calling wandering worried police sorry stammered convincing horrible liar scared mom’s anger concern nervously curly guy realizing lies based freaking walked trolley train teacher guard ugh complained closing adult rubbed wrinkle appeared stressed upset safe stand weirdo understood dangers teased tormented bullied deflate wish trailed close rest sister slipped pin painful tight hug welcome honey dinner ten amy upstairs kitchen unease twist stomach worn linoleum pastel tacky knickknacks ordinary glittering kissed cheek shabby briefcase table how’s soybean wink baby apparently pronouncing thousands times lid simmering pots garlic cream filled handed silverware turn crackin’ scooted plopped usual chair nine role mastered opposite lower average grades popularity sisters wondered definitely powers lowered breathing: inhale exhale repeat care nickname dizzy must lay should eat skipping acting fettuccine night favorite rich sauce sudden nausea tug eyelashes chewed bite swallow fork official thanks great homework sprinted bed hiss shattered marty pounding fluffy cat sitting tail slunk settling lap marty’s purring

confront downstairs settle explained blonde chubby brunette screamed throbbed deeper ripped apart blinked related change lots adopted poked brought e l fudges plate cookies milk getting sick palm fever tired cookie stumbled routine crawled blankets wrapping pillow dreams kissing tucked tradition breathe ella yep elephant stuffed sleep tonight um guys hugged tighter hours labor endured switched birth daughter doubt wondering anymore dreamed keebler perfected recipes liked oreos drown vat fudge woke overrated morning quick shower jeans shirt buttery yellow stripes item closet self-conscious wear gold flecks admit clipped toyed lip gloss snuck check crept yard blinking stuck contained next-door neighbor perch middle lawn forkle rearranging garden tableaux nosy checking effect beady bored hers loved sentences complaining 911 obligated gnome fraction inch gives headaches yapping interrupted ball fur streaked barking spandex jogging shorts chased grabbing dog leash clumsy lunge kneeled stroking wild-eyed panting creature drew growled strained mad sister’s hates displaying several halfmoon wounds bleeding scar suppose willing carry blocks seems winked piercing certainly yelled jogger guy’s louder chaos wonder grab drag should’ve trick react stopping tracks side man straightened height quite intimidating ordered glowered promised snorted grumbling moving explaining whenever appearance waiting incident eyewitnesses frustrating confusing bell rang lurking scream demanded loudly heads bad flashing cocky rush blush unanswered tries creepy snatch slow replayed scene remember growling forkle’s quietly quieter we’ll we’d eyeing suspected impending mischief leap english ditch yesterday strangle pull disappearing fail willingly use telepathy brushed whispering pushed further test tested permission assignment frustrated matters invading offense scrunch nod movement nearby oak drowned could’ve sworn jogger’s campus gestured tree either imagine adjusted shouldn’t anyway who’s committee sidelong heat breaking automatically furious enjoyed caused determines grinned future shield surveyed surroundings metal nearly everglen leading doors absorbs directly likes privacy stressful doubted king kong faint click swung inward striking clearing growing midnight cape fastened clasp diamond-encrusted wings lean vibrant resemblance alden introduced bow curtsy shake greet shy pleasure prominent kidding unusual flush smiled embarrassed fire alden’s injury muttered son shared kidnapping considering such might’ve paranoid has touch rude assure love kidnapper searched reassure kindness agree placed gently jacket ticked indeed fascinating sounding triumphant perfectly specifically nexus forgot covered dug cuff coat clamped bracelet wrist twisting fit snug comfortable accessory single jewel rectangle symbols letters spelled gibberish odd decorate finality safety precaution break particles carried concentration circumstances bare early fools overestimate skills fade cautious answered lose yourself able fully reform pulls forever goose bumps dimple cleared throat prefer reproving send mission collect long-lost guests wiped blooming red pink purple rainbow perfume flowers dizzying testing qualify foxfire paused fungus insulted prestigious academy named represents glow darkened comes ‘fungus’ strongest talent kiss goodbye excuse proud attend accomplishment earliest levels develops abilities continue studies elvin sneak work knowingly chills mixed night’s troubling revelation sickening councillor bronte difficult impress feels upbringing lack disqualify surprises existed miffed votes squat brown-skinned huge tended fairy tale plants slantways shuffled carrying basket twinkling fruit guessing pictured men hats statues servants stare choose safer gardens enjoy privileged taste gnomish produce lunch treat dig slimy tubers slugs hoped menu peeled meadow elegant manor entirely intricately numerous turrets gables rose tower resembled lighthouse braided foyer prism widest hallway fountains spouted streams colored water hall dead-ended encrusted jeweled mosaic

diamond unicorns amethyst spoke wealth squeezed formal dining sheer silk curtains drawing chandelier waterfall shimmering crystals platters fancy goblets figures jewel-encrusted circlets plush thronelike chairs surrounding curtsied necks clasps keys horribly underdressed fabrics except disguise kenric oralie football player toothy princess rosy ringlets met smallest cropped features finger pairs floor laughter squirmed joined pleased shape it’ll transformed noticing autorepeat: scooting oralie’s one’s died yet hurt immortal trace sorrow bodies aging reach adulthood wrinkles belongs yourselves guest uncovered grimace strips glop goop tasted juiciest cheeseburger stuff mashed carnissa root umber leaf tastes chicken animals tone ate toxic waste squirming grimaced vegetarians horror vegetables cheeseburgers tells swallowed mouthful thud discussing openly respond kenric’s jaws dry remembering warnings stay begun eight pass mentioned learn relax bronte’s icy gust common announced jaw flushing chagrined incredulous impenetrable key sentence ‘almost breached guilt conscience sounds infallible thinks likely exceptionally lift weight telekinesis recovering embarrassment shrank goblet accident raised lifting invisible scoffed unimpressed limitations unlike physical confidence clue giving blew pretending imaginary extend sharper worth saucers applauded excellent praise couple glasses determined stronger ounce core empty collective gasp including breathed celebrate cramped strain knocking thunderous collision open-mouthed shock hollered sealed clapped language guys’ enlightened leaped instinctive interesting babbling teasing noisy gripped ‘soybean’ mispronouncing blushed chuckled beside dusting waved insisted sighed suldreen stretch line rare species bird puzzle solve uncomfortable coincidence convince decision barked shoving moonlarks vote otherwise fight favor final fragile lovely empath emotions extended grasped delicate fear confusion sincerity describe azure settles revisited till adjust invoke demand probe planned arranged quinlin busy decipher fun training looks iffy ‘bothered’ dad’s reluctant emptiness exploded choked saving colder implications ditched stall punishment atlantis nowhere patch white-capped waves signs seagulls screech poop hardly continent tide pool triangular slip slick shoes match gown begged status noble members nobility offices empire waist beaded neckline dress costume seeing clothes: tunic embroidery edges pockets sewn sleeves exact size sit boots completed thankfully knowing biana comparison changing subject ledge engineered catastrophe compartment revealing bottles label bottle whirlpool uncorked flung blast whipped faces roar churning ladies suggested worse gulped maelstrom beneath salty sprayed jump push count dignity drowning flailing idiot formed tunnel dipping weaving craziest waterslide starting launched vortex sponge licked toe pack kittens minus kitten sprang cushion smoothed wet incoming rocketed slightly squishy packed sand gleaming metropolis dome beyond soared skyline bathing radiating spires network canals interconnected arched bridges pictures venice modern clean despite bottom underwater muted hum background seashell ear build stores power precisely amount changes plated reflect firelight illuminate sink wandered shops renaissance fair women’s gowns shifted advertised two-for-one specials bottled lightning fast approval spyball applications strolled hybrid chicken-lizard invented main canal hailed carriages floating almond-shaped boat rows high-backed benches elbow-length steered bench reins skimming surface eight-foot-long scorpion deadly pincers reared curled sting eurypterid stroked shiny shell eurypterid’s slice emitting low hissing petted harmless carriage quinlin’s yours fiber mutant insect doom probed gritted pressing hideous sonden’s office thrashed heebie-jeebies commute while secure needs protection file highly classified business district windows tracing bearing names treasury registry interspeciesial services unreadable random strings runes nonsense writing

alphabet clueless chin jumble nah affected gap kid option country tests dropping member broad kelp ornamentation precise read: sonden: chief mentalist cube swiped elbow ping assurances humiliating bypassed receptionist dim damp stone desk dark-skinned chin-length seat ceremony unique understatement squirm handing lick dna unsanitary tiniest hologram center: rotating unearthly breathing prentice sacrificed double helixes sacrifice reasons fears hundred seventy-eight murmured began pacing invaded she’ll greatest keeper older midstep record share trained charge protecting currently hidden karaoke game sing off-key notes clearly eavesdropping strip slid winding stairway climbed oval footage brush projected chill aerial southern california lines circle area images deepened valleys ruled reflections note interrupting communicate waving warn turning overreacting glancing shuddered desperate kidnapper’s threatened easily implied nameless faceless entity quickly threatening authorities would’ve shivered accelerant chemicals leads lighting spilling oil blowing investigate council’s position here: takes visit babysitter decent equally spying steam secrecy existence discovered hoax search updated slight bypassing distracted evillooking matches keepers lagoon glint shimmery dunes lake west shore statue topped hollow iridescent film shimmered loop apparatus resemble bubble lifted clung shrieking levitate forming touching bubble’s rumble coming geyser shoot eleven crash below bobbed where’s scary pure joy popped whisked glaring gates flash strode olive contrast youth shone nerve summoning personal shorter intimidated difference sooner exiled clench fists backward tiergan aware opinion summoned convinced tiergan’s fierce crumbled crossing expert inventory widening whatever foxfire’s newest mentor puppy officially weirding becomes provide retired given persuaded return resentment mixture surprise hone assistance reasonable restrictions pretend opportunity silencing bet terrible mood mumbling mostly irresponsible manage choice benefit stares notify dame alina returning kept bruise meantime session listed remedial schedule lessons dummies correct assumption warmed tuesday brilliant panel everglen’s grounds sessions study student subjects one-on-one nerves one-onone succeed mention level grade relearning self-doubt heavier fragmented disappear explanation aside pleasant dis arguing overstuffed armchairs woman squealed snickered wife della pinched gesturing dear vanishers smiling musical hint della’s beauty tossed pursed heart-shaped parents’ combined gangly troll interceded borrow errands frumpy files requested denied request approve grady edaline case torn radiant parcels strobe unwrapped packages clasped cord neck choker pendant elf-y anytime fund’s activated fund register money standard dollars lusters laughing luster dollar crinkled ew insult afford differently limited seventy eighty makes sad curved window overlooking silvery floor-to-ceiling aquarium wingback facing piled books scrolls anxiety remind stacks newspapers circled crossed news removed drawer theories irritation super stuttered discuss faced solution allow ours they’ve effective immediately too-simple accept kick constant discovery longer unbearable loneliness friends grasping overwhelm areas access severely restricted dead deciding gravestones became vivid: grave tearstained draw suffer struck complicated relocated jobs erase tear obvious believing shutting function erased armchair scrubbed forbade sob occurred risking twenty alert plans clothes sees wiping focus bent unshed horrors cringed buried trembled bouncing busted eavesdrop grounded hugging worrying pouted pettiness bratty obnoxious pain-in-the-butt embrace struggles play daughters mouths senses hook hurry daze rememorize room: dusty available quilt mother tripped furry crouching releasing pathetic meow disk sleeping gas release drugging physically ill backpack slung giggled elizabeth clutching anywhere couch fingered ordering thirty crumpled burying recognize crouched smearing drool snot drugged sobs

overcame jerk washers bags regret bear slept finish hawaiian family’s limp determination taken fourteen cried assured stranglehold haunting gets hope personally oversee relocation flared wrung guardians title selected enthusiasm strangers elwin’s blue-crystaled temptation shiver raked bones orphan conservatory lead backyard security choosing saved ache suffering gift raise ended abandoned wipe elwin physician medical hate doctors brave regular nightmares brief stays struggled dragging direction drop free implying biana’s glare escape punch bathed gigantic glued cushioned cot syringe goes fidget spectacles scientist snapped painless orb flasher manipulate skilled orem vacker show eclipse biggest celebrations traditions damage permanent tensed food chance innocent cells dashing depending orbs squinting lenses stunningly lit dramatic expecting toxins research rifled satchel vials liquids major detox braced medicine syrups nectar unknown fruits tingly drink youth legends enzymes essential health refreshing downed contents gulp drank medicines list follow-up checkup whistled sometimes heated lame stinky stegosaurus shame horrified production wimp doctor phobia jumping needle strap bunch shots allergic how’d concrete nine-one-one unconscious genes kicking trigger bedroom canopied chandeliers room’s gotten deserve ruined chanting mantra shut pajamas tuck asleep belonging alive twenty-five catch breakfast clock shop furniture detoxes materializing clutched ghostly exotic heartbreaker fitted glamorous shopping explosion behold wardrobe outfits extras pick beat-up sparkly casual packing leaked days unpack hungry knotted sadly dampened preserve havenfield exciting jolie deny loss wonderful booming fenced-in pastures spread scrambled versions rehabilitation centers sanctuary protected trap nessie artist endangered gorillas lions mammoths extinct thriving herd woolly colonies saber-toothed tigers slack exists rob qualities provides thrive feeding hunt diet steep cliffs caves flower-lined using ropes lasso lizard neon beast protest drama queen husky male commanded beast’s heave feat twice snaarrll bucked guardian lunged tangled writhed losing balance verdi tyrannosaurus comments meeting jaculus winged serpent feeds support contain bloodsucking snake claws snout tremble lowering fangs glinted slobber motioning glimpse dinosaur-riding chiseled feather-covered james bond robin hood balding relate handsome feathery banged pet rub rex’s stayed docile unblinking separated verdi’s wound plugged slime death rot tuna fish combination kelpie dung bites jar swear edaline’s grady’s wary compared palatial estate mansion standards columns cupola roof entryway central upper floors cascaded ceiling wispy fabric turquoise amber curls similar circles fluff presentable rex picking playing rodeo cowboy nope wash staircase sadness lingered tea mallowmelt insist gooey cake fresh-baked chip soaked ice frosting butterscotch dripping hasty slices served nook grazing linens painted china homesick woken lushberry juice pop possessed conjurer form teleporting objects coolest unfortunately scraggly slurps burps letting friend’s ached grieve fished imparter simply strangled pounded reassuring deafening third star-shaped dangled glittery weaved carpet scent canopy occupied dressing bookshelves brightly volumes bathroom bathtub swimming biting awesome assumed jolie’s tour awkward delicious soupy pizza unpacking wrinkled scrapbook wherever welled remnants dried sixteen sunrise streaks blending mirror darken awake finishing hovered doorway interrupt riser shades clap bruises conjured bowl spoon banana bread tempted impose sloppy handwriting upside symbol corner: bird’s beak tickled babble scare extremely documents cipher moisture particularly believable prescribed drawn eager fidgeting ruffles simplest bought hi kesler groaned island mysterium identical mold vendors spices sweets buzzed crowded sidewalks working-class social rank ‘talent simpler correspondingly unfair born lesser lives type designed village avoiding whispers ruewen pretended different

store crooked nursery rhyme burps: merry apothecary belched maze shelves pills laboratory beakers bubbling burners rainbow-colored lab skinny tousled strawberry periwinkle blob tubes add amarallitine dex tongs vial experiment poured beaker sparked plume dirty gag concoction exclaimed hello ‘hello impersonation sludge eda scrap sheet kesler’s brother-in-law nephew practically monday al freaks dimples burped beanpole hooded cloak vika annoyance handiwork written girl’s bald scalp meanwhile stina ’cause twitched battling sell solutions sasquatch dent bony appendages children throttle hairoids stock week wailed ogre wicked misses responsible friendly rage here’s spat helping customers potent hat flinch useless buy countered retort stina’s oooh slammed fist timkin heks helps situation traditional absolutely brings stuffy nobles happier grinning mess tweak supplies armful worktable sneaky beard dex’s evil mortar pestle teach tingle attempt fifty-seven solo property collapse practiced checked displayed sliver percent chose he’ll hawk mentors monitor weakness expelled pushes transferred exillium swallowing bile mounting attack messy juline riveted gossip interruption interest hilarious bookshelf mounted cover camera summer flipping pages naked mouse suit disneyland dizznee photos honestly movies outlets flipped technology solar powered rifling sir conley’s luck lady galvin highest rate rig calming flooded seventeen gadgets chimes arrive uniform skirt leggings shirt-vest-cape combo laceup jerkin long-sleeved slacks waist-length superhero captain blueberry rescue meaning order demonstrate rid wimpy halcyon mastodons mascot birds storm mastodon ceremonies costumes glad idiots appealing crest triangle heart: scarlet eagle soaring talons chemistry equipment theirs adopting adoption adopt temporary enrollment manticore themselves parties dies span cope calmed orphans wylie whose recover connection blames wylie’s hanging leapmaster 500 lucky authorized 250 tons rotated five-story pyramid sharply angled u stained seventh amphitheater extensive fields grass hopelessly prodigies uniforms building’s finding ducked starts orientation principal reads announcements attendance collar track peal close-up stunning porcelain caramel-colored foremost whoever reekrod weekend mark punished fullest extent threat dangle continued detect ah spotlight hissed viper’s nest ssssssophie hole crawl concludes today’s nearest exception divided wing banners bore midflight halls quad throughout sparkling sapphire chatted doorways lining atrium spectacle creating marked rune locker mirrored lock uses gross faculty picks flavors pepper sneeze croak yelped stench rotten eggs dash diaper muskog wheezy snicker whirled towering mass frizzy cackling hags stalking hairs shave earth serum friday retorted raven swishing behavior phasers ashamed apologize obviously spend detention alexine stinks beet minions kinda frog fumes catching jensi rapid-fire speech talked buckets redder instructed honest ‘human girl’ ‘sophie’ whim elementalism pride backtracked twists turns drops warped wooden session’s zapped ‘zapped’ thunderclap eighteen tray electrocuted quiver conley hitting fluted botched sending tornado tornadoes mastering elements entering foods series stalls court mall recognizable eaten tables cafeteria whom discourage joining verge perceptible message clear: focusing bigger jensi’s acne braces fairly slicked greasy ponytails drooled setting bang c’mon dude unison ‘e’ duh drooly volunteered singed universe daunting exaggerated messing ‘dude’ killing explode cough pixielike rescuing tossing petite balled braids suicide overeager marella mare nicknames obeyed enemies honored pucker licorice lemon fan prettypants rather grumpy brat brother’s dreamy willpower copying sip looped defending dizznees triplets says ‘bad match’ genetically incompatible inferior aunt uncle superstrange celebrities famous vackers superimportant marella’s sympathy grandma heartbroken helpless veins hopeless cases guarantee scooping mammoth shudder awful afternoon feared astronomical

learning astin whispery complex maps planetarium effortless excelled hour survived approaching dragon hateful invited feelings letters: extinguished stuffing fill animosity deck ‘nice uncanny royal highness bothers remembers talented ‘deck beaming nineteen thursday disaster goal sandwiched colosseum pe vanity near door: sneakers ponytail owned ship slap reply lasted compare redek squish may fool stops idle threats grouped twos tromps manifested fifty-fifty manifesting mysterious remark required variable reign terror ‘everyone’ impressive jolt supervise caton titan god informed channeling supereasy channel parts body: heights speeds normally unimpressive attempts threes bumped defense appetite startled spaceship unremarkable studying superintently snapping scraping probing concept unsettling establish forcing eighty-seven puckered brow assume cheerful scraped intended drained steadying suggest ethics attached meganeura exercise annoy fidgeted cocked wanna buzzing dived vulture-size dragonflies patted freaky-looking bug blown gargantuan proportions creepiest disco balls grown monster enclosure phys ed intense emergency weirdest part: proven trustworthy receive assignments lectured responsibility detecting discover elite avoided mesmer nauseated wow sheesh inflicting curiosity won causes dara lecture: pyramids tidal army hairy hollowing himalayas strangest mumble creeped exile interested dying supertalented fundamental guilty underground eternity ruin fluke churned abandoning illegal washer alter dump brother secluded sorted reminding effort flavored flumes spritzed shove disturbing failing smirked alchemy pupil encouraging cracking melody ominous ingredients trophies gilded items pointy-toed suspiciously midas milky liquid dancing rushing rustle red-brown updo hunter silky decorated patterns swished slightest alkahest universal solvent stored itself dissolves wood flesh taxes substance alchemist wise teaching masters tincture poultice basic serums yellowed box flask jars iron transmuting metals recipe formula labeled instructions fiddled rechecked mistakes plunged whip fizzed rumbled jelly galvin’s exquisite dissolved luxurious damaged salvage welt healing ma’am murder retrieve afterward muttering incompetence flunk sprawled hallways stark ditching keefe gulon disheveled untucked popular belva crush blame 90 certain paid accidentally cue epic alina’s ugly crying treated whiter phobia consisted rooms: treatment beds brewing physician’s paperwork slinky scurried bullhorn demented ferret banshee adorable fellow dramatically wanting seize mmm-hmm acid mimed effects destroyed salve measured whap wash present laughs clarification confirming twenty-one embellished version destruction joked bottling anwen multispeciesial 324 faxon metaphysics complimented requests brown-eye create overnight granted incredibly challenging explosions occurrence unlearn lifetime knowledge levitating rainbows constantly messed highlight skill effortlessly amazed unwanted transmit else’s psychic photograph needing patient plague suspicion snotty maruca i-hate-sophiefoster club reaching growl jealous prettiest bedlam subdue chasing rabbits antlers swinging trunk lump verminion pen boosted mammoth’s trumpeted earthshaking squeal ringing mound timid twig hiiiissssssssssss uncurled rodent bulging hamsters rottweiler-size hamsterzilla trample japanese hamster cooed snaarrrlll impressed chase steer dashed catches fifty stupidest clod mud nailed grooowwwwllll fatal flaw pinned grunted press snarling squeeze verminion’s unlocked assortment spewed whined pile gloves shed trade trudged oversize squirrels rats identify burlap sack quivering snarl steeled shriek batlike heaved wool scratches leg outbuildings carefully organized veterinarian’s laid sterile spreading limbs smeared eyedropper dripped creature’s rewarded squeaky rumbling crackly purr smiles cage barrel soapy chain-sawesque snores vibrating brattail tuber sausage imp guessed six-inch venomous stings snoring vicious describing tame yetis outnumbered conked chipper iggy strand swell

generous hugs touches gestures glistened dubious trails twenty-two sharing congested warthog roommate snuggly sleepless spoil caring ultimate splotching championship sacks cheered sympathetic secretly celebrating partnered naturally teamed splotcher splattered loses winners person wins marks smugly win splotch splat deserved colorful prize contest pardon hopes wonderboy gagging rounds beat opponent knots backing aim ow raw telekinetic flushed compliment disqualifies pumped victory hotter cheering opponents experience duel beginner’s talents mighty competition grumblings battle odds experienced evidently four: sixes trella dempsey paired hopeful muster bested winner fluttered appears competitors betraying butt preference keefe’s chant ladies’ float clenched adrenaline surged audience back-up splotches rebound phenomenon weightless collided simultaneous fate collapsed twenty-three placing compress wincing muscle injured whermiwhahapped worse: laying banshees mortal danger stirred lucid winced stiff glands zinged collected rebounded bounce specialized hammered controls actual mix matched draining practice evenly awfully sidelines wobbling auditorium applause teensy annoyed copied blushing elbowing ribs tie protested declared excused lesson rejoin splotchers acted delivered p congratulations confirm bath lathering bathers soggy instinctively besides creased drive twenty-four meter one-third younger that’d wonderboy’s precious midterms score seventy-five recommend nissa tutoring consider tutor projection gagged flavor yell daily tore prattle chewy caramel peanut butter pouch cracker jack horse mane prattles’ unicorn pins collection examined digital 122 185 number eighty-five super-rare bitterness vaguely compute unexpected development century too-little-too-late branch other’s replaced beeline simultaneously sniff aw stuck-up snob wasted invite humiliate walking ambush capable teeniest details clanged cricket chirped embroidered satin sash wringing exhaled seeming makeovers wrestling polite fortunately braid flutter dirt pitter-patter eh sayin’ shooting quest grateful team jealousy guarded raid questers tagged sentry tabs isolate general nail targets listened softer instantly presence tremendous connected forest thundered vision racked credible crashing bushes partner deceive insists hasn’t secrets toes staying chain apologizing visitors sulking funk snipe wagged there’ve weekly jokes havenfield’s defied exams panicking passing guide narrowing shipped exam brass copper transmutations ideas challenges thwarted spilled gashrooms reek pored frozen cause shattering cheated accomplished cheat ideal dreading twenty-six tri-angular apex streamed pane angle reflection examining confessed forgave neutral violated ethical regulations expulsion suggesting argument ruling obey flourish bother violating reporting stifle closely icily respect authority advises wedding flapped nor pointless cheating tolerated huffed regrets confess serve minimum assigning becoming theme slipping unnoticed what’d gloomy atmosphere desks thumbs-up siren song appreciation art nature clapping earsplittingly shrill whine whale nails chalkboard toddler uncover broadening horizons claiming repentant company brand torture ballroom belva’s sirens dances edwardian claimed valin ponytailed promenade dancers valin’s sweaty chime stars shined brighter spit wickedly slobbery octaves fanned hmm irritated flattered scored points empathy forked smirk ironing holes stack detained increased practicing leaps eyebrow empaths powerful mundane purification vein easiest transmutation lockers traded twenty-seven banging annoyingly caps disqualified chorus groans nonstop cap smurf amalgam telepathic integrity wrote essay betrayal over debate automatic 100 last-minute mentally repeating tips negative vibes stress ethic claim fame skipped skip supportive doubting brag mercifully stalled magenta berries rusty discipline chosen purify ruckleberries fifty-five nasty impurities elderly human’s alchemists methods dive knife pierced berry dribbled pinky haggard glacial quarters

deducted mediocre performance forth whirlwind crack exhausted brutal slamming slumped that’ll public hooks presents spine cards schools hassle babysitters edged obstacle tugging stressing rigid suitable gifts jewelry charms charm twenty-eight unrecognizable streamers shrub toilet-papered tinsel confetti bubbles prizes popping appointment teal-wrapped package uglier hurrying plowing regain literally prying trademark smirks spoken sapphire-encrusted navy-blue intently hairstyle contrasted pristine infamous deflated wilted father’s oily insincerity resigned flame cassius lord performing unremarkably radiated apologies fos er disappointing scores fake critical said: creeps prize-filled prattles dwarf lollipop topple snappy comeback comment loser fails organize overflowing half-empty month misunderstanding shushed slim parcel chiming signaled parent-mentor conferences celebration feast unwrap snatching self ‘dear dance sometime vice president boyfriend rattled reader tease ribbon tapped gadget fingernail speaker thingies coloring dunno disbelief variety edible glosses speckled spider snapper plant fed spiders riddler writes riddle miniature violet thanked showing misty seventy-nine improvement range sensing tomato congratulated comfort sobbing partying included sneer party note: f snap k sugarplums boy-craziness necklace cuffs wristbands vanisher platter customs gelled perfection gym ornate immaculate alvar talks often rumpling fizzleberry wine juggling girlfriends hero beamed piddly quicksnuff emissaries tend conspiracy possibility myself pieced undivided swan’s curve pattern term replied active recently unauthorized investigation frustration twenty-nine alternate spending smelling clues accomplish consumed trapped counting resumed vacation finals received eighty-one eighty-three unacceptable prepared chorused poufy thrown towel drooped oven roasted frosters transmitting charts transmitted peed suffered rested cryokinetics freeze manipulating pyrokinesis mesmers inflictors monitored pyrokinetics inflict fire’s unpredictable truly forbidding pyrokinetic library surely three’s librarian banned archives libraries bust problem: section dire wolves peek promising bins mountain littered haphazardly spaces scan unrolled flip papers helpful lacy dulled childhood: strung lanyards dolls framed bone picture: breathtaking tragedy drinking leftover junk trunks piles unopened bin disturbed murky midterm roll scroll shelf sample starlight moonglade: fireflies flickering stellarscope upside-down spyglass view’s billions wad tag amaranthis memorized fourth lambentine bag spout wider scope knobs cluster dials stiffened lever thumb clinked rubini orroro azulejo cobretola indigeen scratching spectrum rearranged indigo zelenie isolated this’ll bluff scrounging elementine adjusting fidgety hummed shining teared welts frantic thirty-one blackish-purple blisters pot burns sprinkled powder adventure soaking numbs balm miserably regulate temperature palace crown nicer handful roots mutilating blades destroying bashing stubbornness reappeared ointment knelt furrowed fingertip rags longest hottest soapiest griffins discreetly boring-looking firecatching bode bundle solid downright incoherently darkly quintessence fifth element myth truest conditions blow metallic-toned bronze wildly flamed audible unmapped locations merit thirty-two platform thrones remotely procedure involving throne cushions tourmaline sturdy polished dotted onyx heard: clarette velia terik liora emery ramira darek noland zarina flicked mere evacuated three-thousand-year task undisclosed location trial salivating convict straighter dozen marched stationed bodyguards swordlike weapons belts fanfare blasted crowned amateurs seated sapphires shall world’s ungraceful consuming detector fuzzy lying endlessly jell-o hobbled astin’s honesty assigned emery’s argento auriferria pennisi merkariron styggis achromian slower plotting map cowering submit lists convenient judgment frightening hardened remained expressionless mediates telepathically consensus united aspirin unanimous

rise violates actions intentional accountable foster’s involvement addressing agreement millionth wished exchanged dimpling kiddo thirty-three banks sienna bark paintbrushes purfoliage palmae calls pures filter pollution freshest crispest tinge fuzzed hesitation observant instruction lurched sunset farthest councillors’ steadied emerald-encrusted circlet bowed pleasing honor beg refuse descryer response delightfully potential clamoring backfired speaks beginning optional 327 sensed crane sweeping peacock log dream softly regularly useful one-armed fiancé’s projecting vividly replace album dinner’s stroke retracted apology hurting tricks arches replica model thirty-four planted curl plotted page difficulties rivaled protect quieted los angeles hollywood trash conspicuous spider-man batman posed mann’s chinese theatre blended beams issued ‘forgot’ oblivious ourselves stubborn softened unwillingly seeped ‘got of’ ant pavement explore warring hurried consequences captured pleaded mercy prentice’s behalf oversaw shatters society metaphor insurgents rebellion kindest whatever’s decisions encouragement revelations ability-detecting exercises cornered superbusy insistent significant elf-ish onetime played envy tracked master tracking switch spots conspiracies investigating headway ignorance ever: permanently jarred conservation legitimate scientific principle nagging elixir nogginease limbium mineral supposedly resisted bike wheels giddy week’s supply unnaturally syrup absorb nauseating unfastening vest skin’s collapsing allergy dimmed cradling thirty-five fluttered chafed sandpaper wildhaired soothed sensations spectators cleaned vomit upright moaned allergies wits bullhorn’s trite soiled airtight vomiting swollen blotch-free humiliated undershirt noticeably absent dazzling alvar’s raptor disgusting decade spare injected steroids tied budge scolded showers heels crisis ushered deathly tough disasters blankly rests brothy soup elsewhere shadowy comforting yawn snuggled thirty-six squealing hundreds eagle-size pterodactyl somersaulted screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech stability rein speed momentum gained screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech torch pasture dispersed uncannily fried engulfed birdbath sparks jerking possess flareadon fire-resistant replay triggered animal’s cares octave higher killed resting flareadons volcanoes occur gildie strayed ‘flareadon female correcting wade debacle breaks wrestled socks shredded apparent vague emotion animals’ distances qualified lightened results defined iggy’s gildie’s paw tummy reward downy fury paled out-of-breath aura recoiling imperative vital violate risk humiliation fled her: cooperate freezing peered railing partial drifted bars errand thirty-seven mush nights begging blend processing forgetting tearing fluorescent locker: insider’s librarian’s timing shoe absolute librarians plastered sinking confirmed dog-ear chapter everblaze: unstoppable blind thirty-eight paper-strewn something’s ‘everblaze frissyn x stands detailed extinguish overruled excluded unheard indecision warred babies hatch extract unregistered code name: egg cast conventional purpose determine pregnant fertility posing implanted embryo manipulated outstanding retain discovering affects genetic anomaly renegades weapon ‘prodigy illegally forgiving messages suffocating choke word: controlled puppet issue triggers twilight proudly soothe facade crumble table: throaty fix drove wedge messenger delivering seal reseal rampaging limits chaise skimmed bead luminous nonluminous generated lumenite drilled clarify rip grubby paws riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip chunk possession skittered treasure retrieving tattered assess rug glue document accordance canceled thirty-nine heartbeat scrubbing choked-back muffle misery acknowledge gaping owe regardless charade obeying command churn yeti ricocheted ooooookaaaaaaay slinking acknowledging attempting library-appropriate slothlike triple-check echoing phew scrutiny shrug candleshade overhead clipping playlist jarring numbness bass mature speakers bands sarcastic tune swirled seeping cracks triumphed

tiptoed rustled creaked padding crawling lonely forgive forty cheer stricken envelope headline: claims victims scrawl announcement corridor stark-white gulps sneaking suggestions weigh resolve admirer flood applying replacement heal eased uncertainty brothers recent discoveries recording spy undetected textbook dreaded licensed pathfinders restriction threatens ‘everblaze’ accusation fintan pricked balefire fintan’s requires fuel supported cosmic ‘fire ignite conclusive example surveillance ruining depths former dealing approved overrule objection trusted phantom rebels snatched emissary citizen confidential duly noted digging forty-one partly imprisoned sorting reminders pity tension distant lately preparing prejudice megacrush cave commands successful method unwrapping names: connor kate natalie freeman apply permit huddled thinner echoes evacuee note’s unquenchable abandon supporter afar forty-two stashed drawers ‘you threaten chaperone global dumped significance supplied clothing resistant fly willful punish facets stagger hills screeched tying pried displays seals survival glinting corneas swoop thickest raspy coughs locate singeing shift current overcome coughing inferno ouch thrashing clouded watery beads capped treats paced treating scorched angrier contorted squatted pee severe scalding plunked sticky-sweet healthy grim balled-up yelling homes camped affairs mesmerized desperation launching steal dumping tenderness justified reacts offer unintelligible agreeing concerns forty-three relatively illness actress w-what admitting lifeless freaky dumber connections traitorous resisting grasp peace decency furball storm’s appropriate cliff reveling shard clatter soothing relishing pulverized smithereens boulder violent frightened irrational fallen possibly smothered meaty cloaked swooped sickeningly nostrils sedative cursed rallied scuffle scuttled captor circulation rasped viselike lolled rescued forty-four bonds staging unfortunate complication fog scrambling muddled funerals pendants vise sweetness blackness necessary loomed constricted heaving choking gruff hyperventilating suffocates coated hacking nods croaked relocate stolen grunt syllable drugs mist strapped bound shivers eerie breathy wheeze venom trail gumption predicament footfalls disposed disappearance guts throb ignorant cackle toy reserve widen contorting poison ple clarity struggle overwhelming happiness rocked jostling rescuer foggy occasionally elevator altitude delirium parted flimsy fumbling promises caress weary forty-five searing heightened awareness sensory overload barrage cigarette butts alley surveying hideout interrogation kidnappers scoured alexandre desperately operates anyone’s him: upcoming rounded apologized broom peeking roofs yards landmark eiffel gaped graceful paris france french indian saris currency exchange robbing bank machine atm watches account measures ‘make work’ cameras covering buttons alarm bills robbed technopath froster internet café sandwiches cheese once-living boxy computers navigated web browser googled number-one result pont iii bridge seine lanterns shopkeeper sped excitement decorations horizon lamp nexuses lasts mathematics applied dawn forty-six melder stun evening strolls cloaks leader obscurer bends distortion coil rope goons goon pathways underestimate wire enhanced wishful swirl severing rapid duck whizzed seizure dusted flailed gurgling blank forefinger crescent shaped jagged cowl stumble scarred heft frenzy hatred writhing strengthened pumping pulse heavyset figure’s hideouts options battering crushed nearing tug-of-war lessened allowing glorious drift fading surrendered mind’s imagination funeral weariness overtaking hazy snow labored conscious sparkle freedom sweep forty-seven brightness peaceful wove persisted appeal surge newfound pooled aches splintered clearer enveloped strawberry-blond-haired numbing sedated tingles luxuriating gulping wetness numb shhh sniffled recognizing propped girly seasons faltered proves meaningful floppy snickers emergencies conversations flirting scratch

blasts streaking injuries concentration’s cell half-drained gaunt fleeing canceling flitted nuzzling scratched there’d yawned lights forty-eight covers washed sandor goblin bodyguard inflictor paralysis semiconscious incapacitated dormant trauma latent polyglot languages advance interrogated sandor’s bunny seven-foot-tall buffed-out overtime blindfolded seared monitoring proved arrested custody awaiting deaths tragic innocence error motivate condemning madness reluctance single-handedly now’s crescent-shaped recalled epiphany overweight swells digest explains operative guarding subliminal advantage activate developed who’ll address database detectives arson reigned supreme wisest greater questioned decades measure influential amok globe rejected imprison devastated uprooted supporters initiative resign outspoken recruited activity satisfied handled poorly kidnapped prisoner resolved disposal stamped justice voiced revenge birthday birthdays indefinite spans thirteen-year-old crushes plots rebellions grown-ups understands teenager accepted bargain relented insisting uncertain responding arrange forty-nine pedestal charges bylaws sub-bylaws committed transgressions minor tortured regal express safely accused drafting addressed firmly murmurs debated arguments raging attitude disrespectful rebellious overlooked gratitude however static rulers experiences inappropriate assign ‘already served’ sang admission din bursting provisional basis due aforementioned cannot proceed suggestion issues seats smoothing occasion fancier signaling require records indicate provided remain appreciated despised gladly nicely dipped textbooks someday squash toughest earn deserves murderous successfully fingering justifiably displeasure smirking retake propose alternative state events revealed therefore practical prudent career prospects shifting internal logical volatile qualifies majority erupting directing registered cuddly earned oneon-one immediate tangle concluded gathered twirling nudging trades sidestepped congratulate surviving multiple tribunals swirls diamonds feminine unlatch decides woven triply journey

#kotlc

204 notes · View notes

neonghostlights · 1 year

Text

A/N: I wrote this because I wanted to rip my own heart out. Also, I am not saying 30 is old in this. Just showing Reader's insecurities with aging. God, I hope this isn't weird. Kinda got the idea from Twilight when Edward asks Bella if it's not enough to have a long happy life with him. Please read the warnings.

Warnings: Vampirism, death, suicide, angst, fluff, bittersweet, infertility, Smut, Age gap but not really (you'll see), they are so in love, I literally never proofread so I'm sorry. 18+ only Minors DNI.

Wordcount: 4.9k

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

July 1986

Thick black curtains covered the windows of the new government provided trailer. Blocking any sliver of light from penetrating the room. Eddie felt bad for you as you laid on the carpet beside him, a fan pointed directly at your face in an effort to cool off.

You insisted on sitting in the darkness with him, even when the rest of the world was out celebrating the fourth of July with cookouts and fireworks. Eddie had even begged you to go with the rest of your friends to Steves for his pool party, but you refused. Saying it wouldn’t be the same without him there. Wayne was nice enough to buy some hotdogs and sparklers for you to enjoy with him once the sun had set and it was safe for Eddie to venture outside again. Even if Eddie didn’t care for human food anymore, he could at least watch you enjoy yourself.

The only time Eddie could join the land of the living was at night. Due to his new body, sunlight would set him into flames in an instant. He remembers the first time he tried to look out of a window on a cloudy day after he had changed. You, and Steve dragged him away from the window as his skin blistered and burned painfully. It took him days for it to heal.

There was no denying it. Sunlight would kill him. Not even the cover of the clouds or clothing would protect him.

If you would have told him in March that instead of graduating highschool he would first get accused of murder, then thrust into an alternate dimension that kills him, and then somehow wakes back up as a bloodthirsty vampire he would have asked who your dealer was so he could give them a call.

You and Eddie were both 20 years old and madly in love. At least if you asked him that’s how he would describe it. He had never felt anything like the way he felt for you. He was certain after his change to vampirism that you would leave but you never did.

You stayed with him through the heightened senses, emotions, bloodlust, and the learning curve of discovering his newfound strength and speed. Even when he begged you to go and move on to something better than him. You stayed by his side, much to his relief.

Whispered conversations would come up in the middle of the night. Discussions on what the future for both of you would hold. Neither of you could walk away from the relationship you had built for the past two years. Neither of you wanted anyone else.

But with Eddie’s new condition he was technically dead. He would no longer grow or age. So where would that leave you?

Your only answer for that was for him to change you to be like him.

This was the start of many fights for the both of you. Eddie trying to talk to you out of it while you had made your mind up completely.

Plus there was the logistics on how to do it. He had bitten you before and it didn’t affect you. It wasn’t like they could just drop you into the upside down and let the bats change you like they had him, Eleven had destroyed it all. And even if she hadn’t, Eddie would never risk your life like that. Never make you go through that pain and trauma.

Dustin had been doing some research for you and was thinking that blood sharing might work but you hadn’t tried yet.

“Are you excited for sparklers, Eddie?” Your sweet voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He looked over at you, unable to fight the wide grin that spread across his face. Your tanktop stuck to your skin, the fan in your face doing nothing to fight the heat in the small trailer. Your hair moved with each burst of air. You looked at him, brows furrowed. Eddie thought it was sweet how worried about him you always were. How you always made sure he was having fun too.

“Super excited, sweetheart. Gonna tie a bunch of them together and make a super sparkler,” he said smugly, waiting to see your reaction.

You rolled your eyes at him, biting your lip to hide your smile. “You did that last year and caught Mrs. Dunn’s garden on fire, remember?”

Eddie’s mouth opened as he looked at you in mock offense. A loud snort sounded from Wayne in the kitchen as he tapped his cigarette ashes into the sink. Eddie looked at him from his vantage point on the floor and cut him a hard glare. Both for his audacity to laugh at him, obviously taking your side in the great trailer park fire debate, and also for still smoking when he promised he would try to quit this year after a bad bout of back to back pneumonia this year.

“If you can call a bunch of dead weeds in a trailer park a garden then sure,” Eddie conceded.

You sighed and sat up, wiping sweat and hair out of your face. Glancing over at the clock by the front door a sly smile broke out across your face. “Looks like it’s almost time,” you giggled.

Eddie wanted to ask you what you meant when a loud knock sounded from the trailer door, shaking the walls. Thanks to his hearing, Eddie could pick up the sound of multiple excited heartbeats on the door side of the door.

You jumped up excitedly, carefully stopping to peel back the curtain, shielding it with your body to protect Eddie from any rays of sunlight that may shine through. You hummed approvingly to see the sun was gone for the night.

Eddie got up to stand behind you as you whipped the door open to reveal a grinning Robin, Jonathan, El and Nancy. Behind them, Steve, Mike, and Lucas argued on how to set up a folding table while Dustin and Max attempted to fill a kiddie pool with a water hose.

Joyce and WIll were pulling containers of food out of the back of the car, stopping to wave at Eddie as he stared at them in disbelief. Eddie was so happy he was still technically able to eat, even if they provided him with no nutrients.

“What’s going on?” He asked, voice full of emotion as he even spotted the grumpy Chief Hopper carrying supplies to be set up.

“It’s a pool party!” Robin exclaimed.

“But, I thought you already did that today. In the sunlight.” Eddie clarified.

“The sun’s overrated. Nobody wanted to celebrate without you,” you squeaked from beside him. He hadn’t realized how tightly he had his arms wrapped around you until that moment. He loosened his grip with an apologetic smile. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your temple as a thank you. You were right, the sun was overrated.

May 1996

Eddie pressed his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as he slowly rocked into you. Your nails dragged down his back making him shiver as he held you. Eddie could feel you fluttering around him as you reached your release, heels digging into his back to bring him as close as possible. Trying your best to meld you both into one person.

Eddie’s hips moved faster as he groaned into your mouth. He buried his face into your neck, your scent grounding him as his orgasm wracked through him. You both laid tangled together in your bed. You were trying to catch your breath while he listened to the rhythmic lullabye of your pulse. One of his favorite sounds in the world along with your voice.

Eddie lifted his head from his hiding spot to look down at your smiling face. With a featherlight touch he traced your features, memorizing them as if he hadn’t been madly in love with you for over the past ten years. Like your face wasn’t burned into his brain and heart.

But you were changing, slowly. You were convinced now that you had aged to 30 years old that you were now a grandma.

Eddie knew you didn’t really think 30 was old. Your insecurities were rooted in the self doubt of Eddie’s own condition. In the past ten years he had never aged, but you had. Eddie thought you were just as beautiful as the day he met you.

Your hopes of changing to become like him were abandoned now. He had bitten you and even given you his own blood, following some old folklore that Dustin had dug up. None of it had worked. You had both exhausted the safer options. Some of the vampire lore said Eddie would have to drain your blood for you to change or you would have to die with his blood in your system. Eddie put his foot down at those. He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t go on knowing he had hurt you.

You eventually stopped talking about changing. Eddie could see how much your aging was affecting you though. He knew if he was aging too then you wouldn’t care. He couldn’t help but feel so guilty to be the reason you were struggling. He would do anything to go back to being a human for you.

“Why are you looking at me so seriously?” You asked from under him.

He had gotten so lost in thought that he had forgotten the position you were in. Separating from you he laid behind you, his hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair.

“Is it a crime to stare at my beautiful wife?” he teased, kissing the side of your mouth. A piece of your hair still held lightly between his fingers.

“I guess not. But I am making it a crime for you to touch my hair,” you grumbled, pulling a pillow up to cover your face to muffle your voice.

“And why is that?” Eddie chuckled, prying the pillow away and tossing it to the other side of the room where you wouldn’t be able to grab it again.

You let out a deep sigh before turning to face him, your face morphed to seriousness. “A lady at work pointed out that I have gray hair.”

Rage bubbled in his chest. The feeling to protect you from harm, emotional and physical, overwhelmed him. He took a deep breath, listening to your heartbeat to help calm him down.

When he was able to unclench his jaw, he spoke, “I hope you told her that was rude of her to say.” He shot you a stern look. You had both had the conversation many times on learning how to stand up for yourself. Especially since Eddie was stuck in the apartment you shared during the day, hiding from the sun. He wasn’t able to follow you around everywhere and rip the bullies apart like he wanted to.

The guilty look on your face as you pulled the blankets up to your chin told him everything he needed to know. You were too sweet to argue back, always too afraid to say something wrong and hurt the successful career you had built for yourself. A career you had worked hard for after attending classes at the local community college. Eddie couldn’t have been more proud for you to walk across that stage. You worked hard to become a night shift nurse, permanently shifting your sleep schedule to stay awake all night with him. While Eddie took random night shift jobs when he had the chance. He never stayed at them long, not liking that his schedule sometimes left unprotected at night.

He didn’t even like having to leave you alone to hunt for animals at night to curb his blood thirst. But it was something he had to do.

“Babe, we talked about this. Besides, I do not see any gray hair.” That was a lie, he had noticed a few thanks to his improved eyesight. But they made no difference to him so why would he point them out to you.

“That’s because I went straight to the bathroom at work and plucked it out of my head!” you exclaimed as you sat up to pull on your t-shirt.

Eddie shook his head slowly, letting out a low chuckle at your antics.

“It’s not funny, Eddie. It wasn’t even gray. It was white. That means I’m ancient!”

“That does not mean you’re ancient. I’m pretty sure Wayne told me got his first gray hair at 18. It’s all genetics, baby.”

You smiled at the thought of a young, white haired Wayne. It had taken a while for Eddie to be comfortable talking about his Uncle ever since he died 7 years ago after a battle with lung cancer. He had never actually gotten around to quitting those cigarettes.

“And, if you’re old then I’m old. You know I’m 30 too. Technically, I’m older than you by a whole month. I won’t stand to be made fun of like this,” Eddie mocked, arms crossed across his chest. You let out a laugh that made Eddie’s dead heart soar.

“You’re ridiculous,” you huffed.

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he sang. “Now, how about you get dressed and I take you to the diner for a middle of the night dinner date?”

You grinned up at him and nodded. The way you looked at him made him think you would follow him anywhere.

November 2006

You and Eddie sat snuggled up in the living room of your house. You had both spent the day putting up Christmas decorations. After twenty years together, Eddie will never win the argument that you are supposed to wait until after Thanksgiving to decorate. You knew his complaining wasn’t serious, he would do anything to make you smile. Even if making you smile meant spending an hour untangling old lights just to plug them in just to realize they don’t work anymore.

You had both moved away from Hawkins five years ago, kissing your one bedroom apartment goodbye.This home was much more secluded than your last place. Far enough to stay out of nosey neighbors prying eyes at the reclusive and nocturnal Eddie Munson but close enough to still visit your friends and their kids.

Your upper lip had the faintest stain of hot chocolate on it. Eddie didn’t say anything about it, deciding if it was still on your lip after the movie then he would just kiss it off for you.

He opened his mouth to make a smart comment about the house looking like the North Pole in the beginning of November only to see you teary eyed as you stared up at the cheesy Christmas movie that played on the TV.

Eddie looked at the screen, expecting to see some heartbreakingly dramatic scene unfolding. What he saw was worse, the main character laid in the hospital bed with a pink bundle tucked into her arms.

Eddie’s heart cracked in his chest as you turned your head to sneakily wipe a tear away.

In the beginning of your marriage you both soon realized that biological kids weren’t going to be an option for you. Eddie had brought up the idea of adopting or even using a sperm donor, but you quickly shot him down. Saying that it would make it too complicated for the kid to explain why Dad looked so much younger than Mom. You told him not to worry, that you were perfectly content with never having kids.

He always noticed the look of longing you held when one of your friends had a new baby.

You grabbed the remote and clicked the movie off, doing your best to give Eddie a reassuring smile. “Ready for bed, handsome?” you asked.

He followed you to your room where you got ready for bed while Eddie pulled down the covers. Making note that the next time he went out for a hunt he would need to grab you some new flowers. The ones on your nightstand were starting to wilt.

You crawled into bed beside Eddie, wrapping your blankets around you like a cocoon to stay warm. “I’m so tired.” Your voice already sounding groggy.

Eddie smiled at you before leaning down to finally kiss the chocolate away.

“Goodnight, I love you,” he whispered in your ear before he pulled you closer.

“Night. Love you,” you replied with a yawn.

Eddie laid staring at the ceiling as your breathing slowed and you drifted to sleep.

The guilt crept up on him as he thought of the look on your face earlier. You wanted a baby and he couldn’t give that to you. Here you both sat, pretending the life you lived was normal and fulfilling for you but he knew better. You were missing out on so much because of him.

Maybe you would just be better off without him.

You were only 40 years old. If he left now you could still have a chance of a normal and happy life. You still had time to get remarried, have kids, and not live your life in the shadows like him.

Eddie slowly pulled his arms away from you and waited to make sure you wouldn’t wake before he slowly climbed out of the bed and got dressed in silence, throwing some items of clothing into a backpack for the road.

He took one last look at you before he crept through the house and out the front door, pausing to lock the deadbolt on the front door.

Eddie walked through the woods surrounding your home. Knowing that as it got closer to daylight he would need to duck into a neighboring home's shed or garage to wait out the sun. Or maybe he could find a cave, cave’s were a thing around here right?

Eddie walked for an hour before the anxiety set in.

Did he remember to turn off the stove after he made your hot chocolate earlier? What if it's been on this whole time? What if the house caught on fire with you trapped inside?

He knows it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He had walked past the stove multiple times since using it. He would have noticed if it was still on.

He shook his head and continued walking.

The next thought made him stop mid step.

Did he lock the door?

Yes. He did. He stopped on his way out and locked it, like he always did when he went hunting in the middle of the night.

But what if this time he didn’t. What if for some reason his brain was creating some type of false memory. What if someone broke into the house and you woke up too late to protect yourself.

He just needed to go back and make sure really quickly. And then he could leave and find shelter by morning.

Eddie unlocked the front door and peeked into your bedroom to see your still sleeping form. You remained in the same position he had left you in. He smiled at your ability to sleep through anything.

Eddie replaced the flowers on your nightstand with the new flowers he picked up on the way back home before he undressed and crawled into the bed beside you and pulled you close to him.

You scooted closer into him, snuggling your face into his chest.

Eddie looked down at you and decided he could never leave you ever again.

June 2016

Nancy set the perfectly frosted cake in front of you at the kitchen table. Carefully shielding the candles to prevent any of them from blowing out.

You beamed as you stared at the pink frosting. The number candles proudly announcing that today was your 50th birthday.

Eddie thinks you have never been more beautiful as the lights dim and the candles reflect in your eyes.

Eddie was able to get all of the group over to the house, even their kids and the newest grandkids were able to make it to celebrate their favorite aunt. Dustin led everybody in a very interesting rendition of Happy Birthday, causing anyone within a couple feet of him to wince and cover their ears.

Age had not changed Dustin Henderson one bit.

After your wish had been made and slices of cake had been passed around, you bounced the newest Harrington grandchild on your lap skillfully while Dustin’s son told you about his newest invention he was working on. Eddie laughed at the way you nodded your head and hummed like you knew what he was talking about. Eddie couldn’t blame you though, he was no good with this new technology either.

Eddie looked around the room, happy to see all of his friends in the same place. Happy that after everything they were able to come celebrate you.

Later that night after everyone had left, you and Eddie sat on the couch while you flipped through a new book that Robin had gotten for you.

“What was your wish?” Eddie asked suddenly. Hoping that it was something he could buy you himself, even though you were firm about him not getting you gifts.

You looked up at him from behind your book, shooting him a suspicious look. “You know you’re not supposed to tell or it won't come true. I’m not risking this wish.”

“Now I just want to know more,” he said as he scooted closer to you.

“Fine.” You closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “My wish was for Dustin to take singing lessons. Maybe next year we can make it out without any hearing damage.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re not getting out of this one. What makes this wish so great that you can’t risk it?”

“Because maybe it’s not a wish for me,” you said softly.

Eddie didn’t say anything else when he wrapped his arm around you. He never did find out what your wish was.

August 2026

Eddie found you sitting on the bed in complete darkness. Not a trace of light could be found in the room. He knew something was wrong when he came back from hunting to find the mirror in the bathroom covered with a sheet.

You had been sad lately. More critical of yourself. Trading off between staring into the mirror for long periods of time or completely avoiding it all together.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he entered the room. You flinched and scooted away from the light that poured into the room from the hallway.

“I think you need to go, Eddie,” you croaked. Evidence in your voice that you had been crying.

Eddie didn’t turn the light on as he crossed the room and dropped on his knees in front of you. You turned to face away from him so he couldn’t look at you. He never told you about the night he did almost leave.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“This is wrong, Eddie. You’re wasting your time with me. I’m 60 years old. I look like a grandmother. I could be a grandmother. And look at you.” You waved your hand at him to prove your point.

“Listen to me very carefully, you seem to be forgetting the fact that I am 60 years old too. Who cares if I don’t look like it? Who cares what the outside world thinks? We know our relationship. I have loved you since I was 18 years old and nothing is going to change that,” he said sternly, hoping to get his point across.

“You’ve been given this gift, Eddie. You could be living it up and exploring the world right now. You’re wasting it,” you sobbed into your hands.

“You’re right,” he said, making your crying stutter as you looked up at him. “I was given a gift. The past forty years with you have been a gift and I’m thankful for them everyday. We knew this would be hard but I’m in it for life. Don’t cry.”

You sobbed even harder at his words. He knew you knew he was right. He knew that this would be hard but he couldn’t imagine not having you. He still loved you so much and thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world. If there were such a thing as soulmates, he was sure you were his.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pulled your hands away from your face so he could wipe your tears. He rocked you back and forth as your crying slowly stopped. He knew that this feeling would pass, that it was just a moment in time.

Eddie would smash every mirror in the world if it would make you feel better.

February 2036

Eddie liked to make Valentine's Day a big deal for you. Some years he would get you reservations at restaurants for after the sun went down. In recent years he would ignore the stares of the other patrons as he held your hand over the table. He didn’t care what they thought. On the outside he was 20 but mentally he was just as much 70 as you.

He could tell it bothered you when you noticed the looks on their faces and you would pull your hand away.

This year you were determined to stay in though. So he cooked you your favorite meal and was able to run to one of those 24 hour markets to grab you a fresh bouquet of roses.

You ate your candlelit dinner together, chatting about the newest thing you saw on TV or any updates in your friends lives.

Eddie was amazed everyday that even after spending fifty years together that you two never ran out of anything to talk about.

He was also in awe of how graceful and beautiful you still were, even at 70 years old.

You came home giggling after your last doctor's appointment when the doctors and nurses couldn’t even believe how old you were, saying that at first glance they thought you were much younger.

Eddie noticed how you were practically walking on clouds for the rest of the day.

You said it came from a long lifetime full of love and happiness. Eddie couldn’t help but agree.

Eddie was ecstatic as you let him hold your hand over the table as you both ate dessert.

You stood at the sink, insisting on washing the dishes while Eddie relaxed.

You could hear the soft melody of a song drifting from the speaker that sat on the kitchen counter.

You smiled at the familiar sound of Saturday Morning by Harry Chapin.

A tap on your shoulder caused you to turn around. Eddie stood behind you with an outstretched hand.

“May I have this dance?”

You smiled as you wiped your hands off on a dishtowel. “I’ve never been much of a dancer, Mr. Munson.”

“Well, Mrs. Munson, I can promise you that you’re a much better dancer than I am.”

You placed both hands on his shoulders as he held your waist, rocking you from side to side.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie.”

“Happy Valentine's Day, my love,” he whispered softly into your ear.

July 2046

Eddie knew it was going to happen today.

You had gone so down hill since you initially gotten sick a little over a year ago. It had gotten to the point where you were barely able to get out of bed anymore.

Your heartbeat was uneven and your breath labored. Your eyes were shut as you slept. He wondered if you were dreaming about him.

He watched from the chair beside your bed as each inhale rattled your chest.

He knew this would have to happen eventually. You have lived 80 beautiful years. 62 of those years with him by your side. He knew you had a happy life.

He didn’t want to live without his wife.

His thumb smoothed over the back of your hand in a circular motions. He hoped that you were able to tell that he was there with you. He hoped you knew he would never leave you. He hoped that somehow his presence brought you peace.

“I love you. Did you know that? If you need to go it’s okay. I’ll be okay,” he said softly, moving to smooth a hand over your hair.

Your pulse slowed down drastically at his words.

He listened as he heard your heart stop and you let out one last breath.

He tucked the blankets around you one last time, ignoring the chasm forming in the center of his chest.

Was it possible for his dead heart to stop beating all over again?

Eddie sat in the silence of your bedroom. The pictures of the two of you over the years still sat in the photo album laid on the nightstand. Fresh flowers from the last time he went out sat in the vase on your side of the bed.

He checks the time, noting that the sun was up now and the hospice nurse would be stopping by soon to check on you.

Eddie gave you one last look as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said before standing up and walking to the front door.

Slowly opening the door, he stepped into the sunlight.

What would be the point of living forever if it wasn’t with you?

#vampire!eddiemunson #vampire!eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson x reader #vampire eddie munson #vampire #vampire!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #vampire!eddie x reader #Kas!eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson x you #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst

335 notes · View notes

quillsareswords · 1 year

Note

Hiya! I absolutely adore anyone who loves Damian as much as I, and I know that it said that you aren’t accepting requests rn, but I wanted your thoughts on Damian catching his crush reading FF of Robin x reader! How do you think he’d react?

Red-Handed

DAMIAN WAYNE X TITAN!READER

A/N: yeah I did say requests are closed. yeah I wrote this anyway. I hate it here

WARNINGS: language, mild embarassment, slightly suggestive?

MASTER LIST in BIO

It's pure panic the moment his deceptively skinny fingers come into view.

It's not unusual for him to pluck your phone or a book out of your hands to see what you're doing. Less so for you to do the same. You're nosy people, and it's a weird display of trust. I trust you with my things, with this device that could reveal all my secrets; I trust you not to pry.

You should've known better. You should have expected him to get curious when you were tucked into a corner, squinted down at your phone screen when you could have been swapping incredulous and judgmental glances with him as you listened to Beast Boy and Cyborg's argument over– what was it? Proper burrito filling?

You'd been a little too wrapped up in a story a close friend had sent you. Honestly, you should have known better than to open anything they sent you while you were in public. You should have shut the entire damn device off when you spied an Archive of Our Own link. You should have chucked it out the window when you read the attached message, for you, my horny little Gothamite.

Unfortunately, you're an idiot. Worse, you're a curious idiot. So you opened it.

What you found on the other end of that link was an uncomfortably well written, three-chapter fan fiction about Gotham's one and only (this year) Robin. And goddamn it all to hell, it's really well written.

It absolutely does not help that you've been dating this person for three months, or that you'd been crushing hard for the most of the friendship that came before. Or that this author has written his character just on the right side of accurate.

You'd never thought anyone would write fan fiction about him. It makes sense, in retrospect—it makes complete sense. Friends who don't know all your secrets (and some who sit in this very room) have spent hours giggling around a phone or laptop with hundreds of romantic works about a plethora of other heros (or themselves).

Maybe it was different because you know Robin so personally. Maybe you just liked to think he was yours and only yours.

(He still is. Realistically, you know you've got nothing to worry about. He'd commit a handful of felonies before he betrayed your trust. But hey, monkey brain and all. Plus, he told you once that it's kind of hot when you get– what'd he call it? Territorial.)

There's a scream lodged in your throat as he tries to pull it from your hand. You cinch a death grip on the poor thing, its screen squeaking out a warning that's lost on you. You stare at him wide-eyed with a nervous half-smile that he clocks a mile away. This is the exact same expression that cracked across your face when he caught you raiding his stash of sweets last year.

It only stokes the flames of his curiosity higher.

"If you love me, you'll let go and never speak of this again," you whsiper.

There's a agonizingly long moment where his face barely changes, except for his jaw ticking as he contemplates. You try to click the power button, to darken the screen or something, but his palm is covering it.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he starts slowly, and you feel your whole body tense, "I do love you, very much, but at this exact moment, my curiosity is outweighing it." He jerks the device out of your grip with a twist that cancels out your grip.

Your expression shudders into a cocktail of discomfort and panic. You scramble forward, reaching for it, but he anticipates it and keeps it well out of reach. You hiss profanities, mindful of the ompany you're in who will also definitely come investigating.

The saying curiosity killed the cat is about to get a whole new meaning, and you're about to catch a charge for first-degree murder. Maybe more than one.

He bats you away with one hand, avoiding any decent hits with strategic side-stepping that only works you in a circle. You give up when he scrolls. You deflate the brighter his eyes shine.

You're never going to hear the end of this.

You're gonna have to leave him at the alter when he brings this up in your vows. You'll rise from the grave to beat the shit out of him when he mentions it at your funeral.

He turns to face you slowly. The only way you can describe his expression is cruelly delighted.

You, on the other hand, appear utterly defeated. Pouting. Perhaps verging on manslaughter. "I deserve a trial before you sentence me to public embarrassment."

He cocks an eyebrow. Like the dick he is. "Do you really?"

"My friend sent it to me–"

"You're on chapter two–"

"Well I had to avoid suspicion–"

"You could have lied–"

"It's really well written, okay? Like—you read it! Tell me that isn't good writing!"

He looks back at your phone passively. "I will give you that; I've read published books of worse quality." He scrolls again and his eyebrows raise. He pulls it closer, as if he needs to be sure he's reading it correctly. Or he feels he should hide it. "How much of this have you already read?"

"I got the part where you get to the rooftop– Why does that matter? What happens next?" You shuffle over quickly, leaning into his space to see for yourself.

It's possibly the most graphic make-out scene to ever grace your general vicinity. Your grandmother would be gawking. You could get arrested for playing this out in public. He keeps. Scrolling. It's like a car crash with copious sexual tension. You can't look away.

The two of you stand there for several minutes too long, huddled together in front of your phone, slowly scrolling down through the last paragraphs of the chapter.

At the bottom of the screen, you catch the words bedroom door, and, knowing he reads faster than you, promptly snatch it from his grasp. "Well that was great, let's forget it ever happened." You click back to your homepage (without closing the tab, of course) and shove the phone into your pocket.

When you look at him again, bravely, prepared for the next few weeks of relentless, albeit good-natured, teasing, you find his stupid smug little smile.

He crosses his arms. He cocks his head. Still wearing that smug expression that drives you up walls for a lot of different reasons. Yet, no ribbing remarks.

Until:

"You know, if you wanted a little more excitement in this relationship, you need only ask." He steps closer, uncrossing his arms to slide his hands into his pockets. And like the suave motherfucker he's come to be for you, he leans a little closer. "After all, why bother with fiction when you have the real thing at your fingertips?"

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne blurb

387 notes · View notes

barbatosboyfriend · 3 years

Note

I was wondering if i could request something and if the request are closed I'm so sorry please ignore this!

trans (ftm, he/them) mc is feeling dysphoric about his body so they go to mammons room and steal one of his hoodies. when mammon finds mc he questions them and when mc explains what's going on mammon just cuddles mc and gives them a lot kisses.

Hi! Sorry for taking so long to complete this request, and sorry it's so short!! I apologise if it's not quite what you wanted, I'm very bad at writing dysphoria in characters, but I hope I did alright. I'm still very heavily into writers block so I hope this came out decently.

Pronouns: He/they

POV: Third Person

Warning! MC's thoughts from their dysphoria could potentially trigger dysphoria in others.

MC stared at himself in the mirror. It's not him. That body reflecting back is not them. He's not supposed to look like this. Why does their body look like that, no no no, it's wrong, it's wrong, it's all wrong. They could feel the tears start to come, but they couldn't manage to stop his own thoughts.

Wrong, weird, that's not them, he'll never be a boy, this is him, that's their body there. He feels sick suddenly, and manages to look away. As he takes some anti-nausea medicine, he thinks.

How could he calm himself down? All of the brothers were gone, (for a meeting, maybe?), so they couldn't go to any of them right now. Think, think. How can he distract himself?

Ah, that's it. He quickly changed clothes, into his binder, a tee-shirt, and some old jeans, before heading off to Mammon's room. Surely Mammon wouldn't mind, right?

Rummaging through Mammon's closet, they cheered quietly when they found what they were looking for. He grabbed it off the hanger and quickly put it on. The House of Lamentation was pretty cold, and he was just in a plain tee.

He hummed happily as he looked at himself in Mammon's mirror. If they imagined they didn't know himself, he could totally believe he was Mammon's boyfriend.

His hair was annoying them though. It looked fine, but it didn't suit them anymore, he thought. It wasn't quite the style they wanted. They glanced towards Mammon's bathroom and without a second thought went into it to use Mammon's brushes and combs to style their hair. There, now he's happy with it for now. At least, until Asmodeus returned to help them style and cut it better.

Apparently they didn't have to wait for long because as soon as they stepped out of Mammon's bathroom, Mammon stepped into his room, muttering about how stupid the meeting went.

MC froze, not sure how he'd explain to Mammon why he was in his room. When their eyes met, Mammon paused.

"MC? What're ya doing in my room?" he questioned. Immediately MC felt sick again. "Is that my hoodie yer wearing?" Mammon blushed a little at that. MC looked lovely in his hoodie, they looked like his, and that definitely fanned the flames of Mammon's possessive side a bit.

"I'm sorry Mammon, I just, I wasn't, wasn't feeling good and I wanted a bit of comfort, and, and so I thought, maybe it would be okay to come to, come to your room and, and, well, I just thought that, y'know you're really comforting to me and all and, well, um, you weren't here so i, i settled for borrowing your hoodie and, and I'm sorry I shouldn't have please don't be mad I'm sorry," he rambled, panicking. He was waving his hands about trying to explain himself to Mammon without shutting down entirely.

Mammon dropped his bag and went to MC, and took his hands in his own. "MC, hey, hey listen to me. It's okay, I'm not mad at ya. I don't mind, I promise. I'm glad ya find me comforting, actually. It's okay, yer alright, c'mere."

He softly pulled MC towards him, and MC went easily, letting himself fall into Mammon's chest. They quickly wrapped their arms around Mammon's waist, and buried their face in his chest. Mammon smiled softly and brought one hand to rest on the small of their back, and the other to rest on the back of their head. Mammon then put his chin on the top of MC's head.

"Thank you for not being mad at me. And being kind to me, and letting me do this. I really appreciate it, Mammon," MC said after a few minutes. "Of course, yer my human, I gotta be there to support ya! Now wanna tell me what's wrong? I can't help ya if ya don't tell me," Mammon replied.

"My dysphoria. It has been so much worse today, I didn't know what to do. So, I came here and put on your hoodie. It smells like you, and you're comforting, and so being surrounded by your smell made me feel better. Um, sorry, I didn't ask beforehand. And um, sorry for panicking a moment ago…" Mammon hummed. He did know MC was trans, and that MC needed extra comfort when his dysphoria was bad. Usually Levi helped him, since he was trans too, but MC was here, in Mammon’s room, saying that Mammon was comforting to them.

“I don’t mind, MC. I’m happy I could help ya in some way. C’mere, let’s go lay down, hm?” MC nodded vigorously and let Mammon lift them up. When they laid down, MC was propped up on Mammon’s chest. He smiled, and buried his face against him more.

MC mumbled something against Mammon, and had to pull his face away to actually be heard. “I was just, um, wondering if, uh, I could um, get a, a um, akisspleaseI’msorryIunderstandifyoudon’twanttokissme!” (a kiss please, I’m sorry I understand if you don’t want to kiss me!) MC’s face was burning and he was looking anywhere but at Mammon. Mammon laughed, although his face was burning too, and softly placed a hand on their cheek.

“W-well, I can’t let my human down, can I?” he grinned at MC, but before he went to kiss them, he paused. “Um, are ya sure you wanna kiss me? I mean, I’m Mammon, the idiot, the worst brother, surely you could choose-” Mc cut him off with a glare. “You’re Mammon the Great, the favorite, the nicest, funniest, most caring brother. You take the fall for your younger brothers all the time, you go out of your way once you get money to buy me things, you’ve never made me feel dysphoric or insecure and you-” MC groaned, “You’re the only one I want to kiss. No one else.”

A beat of silence. “Mammon you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to, you know…” A second longer of silence, no moment from Mammon, before he blinked and leaned to put a quick kiss on MC’s nose. “I- I do wanna kiss ya, MC. Yer my human and I don’t want anyone else kissing ya!” MC giggled and pulled him down for a full kiss this time. Safe to say, MC was decently distracted with Mammon to not think about his dysphoria for the rest of the day.

#obey me #mammon x mc #mammon x male reader #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #mammon x male mc #mammon x trans mc #mammon x reader #the great mammon #mammon fluff #mammon #obey me fanfic #fanfic #dysphoria tw

204 notes · View notes

gojology · 3 years

Text

— Gojo and Nanami | Their Insecurities

pairing : insecure gojo x gender neutral reader, insecure nanami x gender neutral reader warnings : unedited, probably some misspellings, maybe some cursing, i probably dont make sense at all wordcount : 1703 a/n : this is so bad dear god please forgive me for deeming this as content

GOJO SATORU ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Gojo’s insecure about his lack of bodyhair. His lack of facial hair and arm hair worries him. Being babyfaced wasn’t something positive in his eyes- no, he wishes he was physically more masculine.

Your eyes meet his, the sun rays bathing both of you in an orange filtered light. His mouth is slightly opened, skin flush to the touch. After a night of intimacy, your ready for another round, pushing your palm towards his forehead. “Good morning, Satoru.” you say, voice slightly wavering even in the most private presence, without the formalities and what not, he’s surprisingly normal, and it’s taken you a bit to adjust to that. He’s warm, but it’s the good kind of warm, and it shows on his silly, dopey smile.

You guess it wasn’t the time for more sex, so you resist your urges, directing the energy to something else.

Gradually, your palms find themselves on his cheeks, and you pinch them slightly, giving him a look you hope is loving- because you really do mean it. Your rest assured, as the curve to his swollen lips grew even wider. The sounds of bird chirped as your fingers danced across his jawline, finally at your final stop, his chin.

You tip his chin up, and sure enough, hickeys are adorning his neck. A feeling of joy and honor fills you for a brief second, you were the one that was allowed to see him vulnerable, given the pass into his locked up heart. He finally breaks the silence between the two of you, pushing away your slack hand delicately.

It’s peculiar, there’s a tremble to his lips, like he’s scared, or about to burst into a fit of tears. You think it should be the other way around, but here you were, arms held close to your chest, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, bated breath preventing you from questioning the sudden change in tone.

“Hey, um, Y/N, weird ass question, but, am I hairy? Like, wooly mammoth hairy?”

You can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or not.

Trying not to make a face, you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I mean, not really. You’re actually pretty nonhairy, in terms of uh... The average-” you pause, realizing how drastically his face fell. “-But I do like non-hairy guys! Who would wanna date a wooly mammoth anyways? Hey, baby..” you coo, giving him a tiny peck on the cheek, fluttering your eyelashes. “What’s this about? Hey, you know, you can just be straightforward with me, I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t take a moment of hesitation, exasperatedly blurting out, “Does my lack of.. Hair, bother you?” but it seems he regrets it, your cheeks puffing up, stifling a giggle. Yet, he maintains the bone-chilling eye contact, his eyes are as vivid as ever, so blue it looked like the entrance to heaven. Your immediately lulled, whatever he was going to say was definitely urgent.

“W-What? Are you being serious?” covering your mouth, your voice is muffled, but his face looks absolutely terrified, and you relish in how funny he looked. It wasn’t everyday that he was genuinely frightened, well, maybe he didn’t show it often. “Of course not! Why would I be even remotely worried about bodyhair when I have something way more eye-catching in front of me?”

The shock turns into a sheepish smile, returning for a second time, your heart melting instantly. He takes a long, deep breath, exhaling the tension away, tugging at the covers to go over his chest. You hadn’t realized that he had stolen more than half of the blanket for himself, but you don’t make a fuss about it.

For all the weight he carried on his sagging shoulders, you’re sure the warmth is appreciated.

NANAMI KENTO ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Nanami thinks he’s a boring person, through and through. Outside of work, he doesn’t see why anyone would want him. Some days, he wonders if he should pick up on Gojo’s personality, telling jokes and being sarcastic and what not.

The fine, white porcelain Nanami had gifted you was beautiful, to say the least. Nanami frequently shone it until it glimmered in the light, wiping any smudge or speck of dirt that dared to get on his beloved tea set that he gifted to you a few months prior. Gold trim, alongside depictions of birds fluttering about, and your favorite flowers. It’s perfect for you, and that’s why he had gotten it. His eyes had instantly brightened, picturing your beaming face as you served the two of you some tea.

But he wonders, would you be happier if he perhaps gifted you something more up to date in comparison to the porcelain? He had enough money to buy you the world, bags, jewelry, he’d often used to hear stories of his co-workers giving their wives expensive, well, anything, and they’d be over the moon. A sudden realization grew inside of him at the thought of this:

Was he too out-of-date?

The thought went rampant in his usually collected mind, twisting and turning at night, only the sound of you, deep in sleep, could calm the troubled man down. As a consequence to his overthinking, he got little to no rest, and if he got little to no rest, his eyebags would turn their ugly, sneering faces in his direction.

And so, as he’s baking tea cakes to go along with the afternoon tea the two of you would routinely drink, he’s going deep into depth of himself. He’s a good worker, good at...

What was he good at? Aside from work, he can’t see why he’d be of use. Nanami acknowledges he’s stoic, which may be good in some cases, but often, everyone runs away from him because he appears as scary with those cold, calculating eyes. As opposed to Gojo, everyone enjoyed how lenient of a teacher he was. Well, Nanami isn’t sure on that, maybe aside from Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji, everyone hated that. Regardless, him and Gojo don’t share something in common.

Gojo has humor, and he doesn’t.

So why did you like him?

Nanami’s subconsciously drumming his long, bony fingers against the counter, eyes studying the ceiling like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Steadily, an acrid smell completely overwhelmed your senses- now, you’re hacking into your arm, and finally, Nanami comes back to Earth.

He blinks a few times, like he’s drinking in his surroundings, before he realizes the tea cakes are completely burning into a crisp.

Now, he’s on heightened alert, yanking open the handle to the oven and fanning out the flames with a random oven mitt he had hastily grabbed for. Beads of sweat are developing on his skin, before finally, you rush in, still hacking up a storm with a large pot of freezing water in your shaking hands.

Nanami curses himself for ever appearing as informal, but then he remembers he’s infront of his significant other, he didn’t have to put on an act. His face relaxes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, but he’s paused- by you. You raise your palm up at him, the other hand opening up a window looking over the garden.

“Nana.” he freezes completely, the affectionate nickname was specially reserved for confrontations like this. You spoke softly, which, for some reason, was significantly worse than you screaming into his ear. Your eyes follow suit, staring at his collar, loosening his tie. He winces, but Nanami’s not sure why he does. You had touched him millions of times, so why was it now that he didn’t accept it?

“Yes, my love?” he finally breathes out, wrapping a strong, gentle arm around your waist just loosely. You place your thumb just below his lower lip, your index finger rubbing his plush lips all at the same time. The exchange is purely affectionate, yet, he’s still tense.

“What has gotten into you?” you murmur.

“I- Nothing, darling, I’ll bake another-”

“No.” is all you say before you grab him by the chin, unwavering. Usually, those piercing eyes of his are emotionless, something shocking. The eyes are the gateway to the soul, so why is it that it’s blocked off? But you guess it wasn’t the case here, he stared back with the same level of intensity, fear and peculiarity. You stay in that position for a little, savoring just how much you must mean to him, it wasn’t everyday he was vulnerable and let you inside. Your breathing is heavy, eyelids heavy as well due to his routinely ruckus every night, but you’re determined to erase any trace there was left of that. You kiss him. It’s sloppy, yet chaste. A fight for dominance usually occurs between the two of you, and almost routinely, Nanami wins, but this time, he lets you do the work.

Your lips never once trail away from his own. Heavy breathing through nostrils, hands roaming where it shouldn’t at such an early time, but who gave a fuck about the rules? It wasn’t a workplace, and you’d never let it be one. He clings onto your figure, you savor his muscular physique. Not once do his hands not roam, your flesh was his, and his was yours.

Finally, you pull away, heat rising to your cheeks, tears are beginning to dawn on your glassy eyes. “I’ve listened to you roll around in bed every night, mumbling shit about how you don’t see why I’d want you. You better donate your eyes and brain to charity right now.”

This wasn’t the reaction, or beatdown he was expecting. He flinches at the vivid image he got of you gouging out his eyeballs. “...Why must I do that?

“Because, you don’t use them, obviously. If you took a fucking second of your life to look deeper into your personality below the surface level, you’d see how fucking amazing you are and I love you for that.”

Shaking your head furiously, you shush him up yet again when he finally decides to speak up, tears are beginning to spill down your cheeks. “Shut up, Nana. Shut. Up.” pulling him in for another kiss, your hands grabbing at his shoulder like he was going to let go.

But he never did.

470 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 3 years

Text

for you and i

Pairings: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: honestly just pure fluff, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, implied smut (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.2k Summary: A small collection of moments throughout reader’s and Spencer’s evolving relationship that features their song. A/N: this symbol ~~ signifies a time jump.

A/N: i finished my rewatch of bones last night (im hella emotional), and one of my favourite “running gags” from the show is hot blooded being booths and brennans song, and how the writers reminded us of that from season to season. it definitely definitely inspired me to write this. also i did this instead of working on my assignment as a birthday gift from me to me lmao ENJOY

The plane trip back home was completely silent.

Morgan and JJ were catching up on much needed sleep. Emily, lost in thought, observed the night sky through the small window. Rossi was reading, as Hotch worked his way through some case files.

Spencer sat next to you at the far end of the jet. You were listening to music while his nose was buried in a book. Although you could tell he couldn't really concentrate on the words as the page remained unturned for the last fifteen minutes.

“Why don’t you let your eyes rest for a minute?” You suggested, carefully taking out one earphone. “A short nap could be good for you. It doesn’t look like you’re retaining any information anyway.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with you. He shut the novel in his lap and tilted his head to look at you, his lips pursed into a thin shy smile. “You should get some sleep too Y/N.”

“I’m okay.” You replied. “Plus someone has to keep watch in case the jet gets abducted by aliens or something.” A sly grin appeared on your face as Spencer chuckled softly. He rested his head against the chair and gradually closed his eyes.

You watched him for a moment. Examining his perfect features. Your innocent crush growing by the second - something you would never admit out loud in fear it would ruin your friendship.

When you were about to place the earpiece back in your ear, his eyes shot back open. He sighed heavily.

"I actually don’t think I can.” Spencer said quietly and once again turned his attention to you. His gaze briefly landed on the phone in your hands before travelling up to your face. “Did you know that in addition to aiding relaxation and helping with falling asleep quicker as well as improving sleep quality, playing music before bed can improve sleep efficiency? Which means more time you are in bed is actually spent sleeping.” You raised a curious brow waiting for him to continue, but he just asked: “Can I ask what you are listening to?”.

Instead of answering his question, you wiped the dangling earphone against your blouse and handed it to him. He took it, a little hesitantly, and placed it in his ear - the two of you unconsciously shifting closer to one another.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't know the song currently playing, nor did he particularly like it, but he didn't protest or ask you to skip it. In his eyes, you were kind enough to share your source of entertainment therefore he would never push to change what you were clearly enjoying.

The song ended, another began, and another, and another. Eventually Spencer closed his eyes again. The two of you continued to silently listen to the various songs on your playlist - a wild mix of different artists and genres, definitely showcasing your weird music taste.

Touch Me by The Doors began to play.

“I like this one.” Spencer muttered, eyes still closed. “I didn't peg you to be a rock fan.” You stated curiously. Spencer chuckled softly. “I wouldn't call myself a fan per se, this is just a very good song.” “This is actually my favourite song of theirs.” You proclaimed.

Sinking deeper in your seat, you quietly sang along. “What was that promise that you made?” To your pleasant surprise, the young doctor joined in. “Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?”

Lost in the pure bliss of the moment, you gently rested your head against Spencer’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open. He glanced down at you and smiled to himself. Yes. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

“Watch it!!!” You shouted and rudely gestured after the vehicle that overtook you out of nowhere, almost sliding right into your car. Frustrated, you ran your hands through your hair before placing them on the wheel again. A deep sigh escaping your lips in the process.

Spencer chuckled next to you. “Maybe next time I’ll drive.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, tone of your voice changing completely for a moment. “People are just so fucking stupid.” The groan was full of annoyance, and it only made the young doctor snicker louder.

“How about we turn on the radio?” Spencer suggested. “Cool you down a little since we have another hour drive ahead of us, and I would preferably like to get there in one piece.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but didn’t protest.

Taking your silence as a yes, Spencer fumbled with the car radio.

‘Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe’

Voice of Jim Morrison blared through the speakers. Instantly, your whole body loosened up. No longer feeling annoyed or angry. Driver’s rage dissipated. The frown circling your features was replaced by a happy smile.

‘Can't you see that I am not afraid?’

Stopping at a red light, you looked at Spencer who was lightly bopping his head to the beat of the music. His gentle curls bouncing with his every move.

“You know, the universe is telling us that this is our song now.” You noted. The young doctor met your gaze, and the grin present on his face made your heart skip a beat. A faint hit of nerves cascaded through your body as you anxiously waited for his response.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders slightly. “It’s a good song. The universe could have wished us a lot worse.”

As the light ahead turned green, and you were driving once again, the two of you burst into the chorus as loud as you possibly could: “Now, I'm going to love you! Till the heavens stop the rain!”.

The bar was filled to the brim with people wanting to unwind after a long week of work. That included the BAU team.

“One more for the road!” Morgan exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. He motioned to Hotch for assistance and the two of them briskly walked off in the direction of the bar. “While they’re gone, I’m gonna hop to the loo.” Penelope chimed. “I’ll join you.” JJ spoke up and they hurried off.

Spencer sat beside you, shoulder pressed lightly to yours. He was sipping on the remainder of his drink and you were about to open your mouth to say something, engage him in conversation, when you heard it. The song. Your song.

Your head instantly snapped up at him and a mischievous grin spread on your face. By the time Spencer realised what was going on, you were up on your feet grabbing him by the arm, and pulling him onto the self-made dance floor.

You began to sway along to the music. The alcohol currently flowing through your veins definitely made you that much braver. It also gave Spencer the confidence boost he needed to join you with no objections.

Despite the questionable looks you were undoubtedly receiving, the two of you jumped around like kids. Singing the song out loud to one another. It was as if the world around you disappeared. Like you and Spencer were the only people left in the bar.

‘Till the stars fall from the sky’

And when the night concluded, when everyone said their goodbyes, Spencer continued to hum the melody of your song as he waited with you for the taxi. It was then you chose to make the first move - colliding your lips with his in a carefree kiss.

They were softer than you ever imagined.

All at once, the attraction between you two and the tension that built up over the years burst. You grabbed onto his jacket pulling him even closer. Suddenly, the cold night air didn’t feel so cold anymore. It was hot, burning like a flame. Your body was on fire and so was his.

Spencer’s long arms wrapped around you, trapping you in the fire. One of his hands moved lower down your back, while the other tightly gripped your hair. The sensation that he felt was unimaginable. He always imagined what you would taste like, although he never expected anything would happen. He imagined how your body would feel against his. How your lips taste. But this, this exceeded all expectations.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He said in a smoky voice after pulling away, his hands now holding your face. “That’s what I was going to say.” You managed to whisper before his lips landed on yours again. Your heart pounding hard inside your chest, it felt as if it was about to explode.

Spencer huffed as he placed a heavy cardboard box down on the ground. He straightened himself, flattened down his crinkly t-shirt, and turned to you with a smile. “That’s the last of it.” He stated proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

“My hero.” You ambled towards him and pecked his lips. “Thank you.” His arms made their way around your waist, pulling you in close. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead before glancing around the room.

“I can’t believe we’re officially moved in together.”

“It’s been a longtime coming.”

“That it definitely has.” Spencer smiled kissing you. He let his arms fall and shuffled around to start unpacking.

Having planned ahead, you removed a speaker from your handbag. You quickly set it up, connecting it to your phone, and pressed play to ease the process that would carry on into the night.

Starting with the kitchen, and the more fragile items, the two of you made your way through the new apartment.

Hours passed. It was getting quite late as tiny yawns continuously escaped your lips. However, the hard work was paying off because space started to feel more and more like home.

You decided to finish up for the night - tomorrow was another day. Yawning, you leaned into the arms of your boyfriend. Spencer kissed the top of your head and began to sway you slowly from side to side.

Right on queue, the guitar intro you both recognised well began to play through the speakers. You smiled into his chest before breaking free from his embrace.

‘Yeah! Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe Can't you see that I am not afraid’

Sharing a knowing look, you both started to dance. Not wanting to disrupt any neighbours you both chose not to sing along like you usually did. Instead, you mouthed the words in sync as if you were competing in a lip-sync battle.

‘What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?’

The two of you circled happily around one another. It wasn't long before the air guitars came into play.

And as the song concluded, Spencer cupped your cheeks. “I love you.” He muttered, gazing deep into your eyes. “I love you too.” You replied smiling.

Without another word, Spencer’s lips crashed against yours. Both your heads tilting hungrily from side to side to vary pressure. Hearts hammering loudly. Your hands made their way up his muscled back as his hands traveled down your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Why don’t we move this party to the bedroom?” He suggested, his face still only inches away from yours. You lifted your hand, and brushed some of his light curls away behind his ear. “I do believe I read somewhere that it is considered bad luck not to christen the bed on the first night of living together.” You stated giggling.

Spencer raised an interested brow. “What else does the article say?”

“How about I just show you.” And like that, your lips were on his once again as he blindly led you to the bed.

“And now ladies and gentlemen we would like to bring out our newlyweds, Dr. & Mrs. Reid, to dance their first dance as husband and wife. Let’s give them a hand.”

Spencer turned to you, that warm kindhearted smile you loved so much circling his lips. He offered you his hand. “Mrs. Reid.” You took it gladly. “Dr. Reid.”

He led you to the middle of the dance floor and swiftly wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you close, while the other hand intertwined itself with yours. Music started to play and the two of you swayed elegantly from side to side.

“I have a surprise for you.” Spencer whispered in your ear before briefly pulling apart and twirling you around.

Suddenly the music stopped. Sounds of disappointment echoed through the watching crowd as you shot your husband a quizzical look.

A melody you knew all too well filled the space.

Your mouth parted slightly in shock as Spencer let his arm fall from your waist. He spun you around once again and began rhythmically banging his head to the beat of the song. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before joining in.

Excited screams echoed through the crowd as they cheered on. Even though you heard them, you knew people were watching and documenting this moment, you felt as if there was no-one else around - déjà vu.

Spencer pressed his forehead lightly to yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. His lips twirled into a smile. A big smile that you reciprocated. Feeling as if you were on cloud nine, you looked deep into each others eyes and whole heartedly sang along with the song. Your song.

‘I'm going to love you Till the heavens stop the rain I'm going to love you Till the stars fall from the sky For you and I’

masterlist

521 notes · View notes

calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years

Text

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

series taglist: @angelreyesgirl89 @holl2712 @relaxing-najee @thedeviltohisangel @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @amorestevens @witching-hour @seize-the-droid @rosieposie0624 @sesamepancakes @est1887 @queenbeered @ticosas @blessedboo @helli4nthus @katjusja @melanicia @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @moneteguiza

mayans taglist: @lilacyennefer @pedropcl @holl2712 @rae-gar-targaryen @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @henrycavill19 @silverstarsandsuns @chellybear98 @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @noz4a2 @wiccanmetallicrose @crxssourbones @kimljn @starrynite7114 @richonne4life @themarkblues @mariaxliliana @thelovelyleo23 @hail-horror-queen @gemini0410 @binooo98 @the-jer-bear @abbiesthings @losolvidad0s @helli4nthus @babaohhhriley @futureleo1678 @whatupitshuff @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @minnicelli @sillygoose6969 @capnsaveahoe @leahnicole1219 @crashbarbie @cyka1312 @zoovent @lakamaa12 @keithseabrook27 @vir-tually @awkwardtayler @rawrlittlepanda-95 @irenne-stans @pearlkitten33 @ezs-baby-angels-whore @sesamepancakes @toni9 @vannabanana1995 @queenbeered @shawty-fenty @kaystacks17 @thesandbeneathmytoes @anactualcaseofthetruth @star017 @cant-decide-at-this-moment @cocotheclown @watsonwise @ilovebey2018 @oscars-wifeyyy @rosieposie0624 @jennisdirtyimagines @ughdontbeboring @jjwriter23 @briskywalker @peoniarose @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @partypoison00 @making-starsdance @claytoncardenasbabymama @myakai13

#lost one of tommy's scenes and retyped it off memory #so hopefully it's good lol #but let me know what you think?#angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x reader #lover of mine

200 notes · View notes

agustdakasuga · 4 years

Text

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 5

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

Life seems good now. You have Taehyung as a friend and the wolves, that’s all you need. But soon, the inevitable comes and it’s time to say goodbye.

“(y/n).” Someone called your name and you opened your eyes. You were in the field that you usually relaxed in with the wolves. Looking up, you saw a boy standing there. He had pale skin and jet black hair.

“W-Who are you?” You asked. He came up to you until there was only a thin space of air between the two of you. You stepped back but he circled an arm around your waist to hold you in place. Suddenly, he pulled you against him to hug you tightly.

“Umm...” You mumbled, your cheek smushed against his chest.

“Remember, my fur is the most beautiful.” He whispered in your ear with a dark chuckle that sent shivers down your spine.

“Y-Yoongi?” Your eyes widened as you stepped back in shock. He pulled away and started running away, leaving you to stand there in the field alone. Was that really Yoongi?

“Wait!” You ran after him. You called out after him but he wouldn’t stop running. All you could hear was his light laughter as you continued to run.

“Yoongi?” You saw him disappear behind some trees. But when you walked over, all you saw was a white wolf.

“Hey...” You bent down, holding your hand out. The wolf stood up and headed over to you. He sniffed your hand and licked it gently, leaning his cheek against your palm. You smiled softly as you felt his soft fur tickle against your skin. There was more howling behind you and you turned around, standing back up. You faced the 6 wolves.

“What?” There was a sudden blur and in the wolves place, you saw 6 boys standing there. You backed away and bumped into someone’s chest. When you turned around to apologise, it was the pale boy from before.

“Are you really... Yoongi?” You asked in disbelief. He held your hand in his, putting it against his cheek.

“What’s going on?” You faced the others. It was the same boy as your other dream, the human form of Jimin that teased you about chicken.

“You’ll be fine.” He spoke, smiling softly.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your eyes shot open and you sat up, reaching over to turn your alarm off. The wolves were not in your room. You headed downstairs and found them already awake, mostly just lounging around. Yawning, you went to wash up before going back down to make breakfast.

“Morning.” You stroked their heads.

“(y/n)...” Jimin whined. The boys had woken up earlier because today was going to be their last day with you.

“What’s wrong, Jiminie?” You cooed, leaning to kiss the top of his head. He stepped closer and brushed his head against your thigh, burying his cheek into your skin.

“I don’t have school today so we can spend the day together.” You bent down, sitting on the couch. The wolves sat around you, Jungkook placed his head on your lap and you ran your fingers through his fur, rubbing his ears.

“What’s up with you guys?” You looked at them. All of them sent you sad looks and you blinked at them.

“You hungry? Is that it?” Laughing, you stood up and went to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. It was nice to have a free weekend with no school and work. You made meat for the boys and when they smelled the bacon, they seemed to be back to normal, jumping for your attention so you would give them a taste. You gave them small pieces as a treat.

“Here.” You placed the bowls down.

“Guys, don’t make it too obvious. We don’t want to ruin her day. Just let her spend it with us happily.” Namjoon sighed. The rest nodded in agreement.

“Go ahead.” You sat with them and ate. Of course, Jungkook got rice all over his snout but you were more than willing to clean it for him.

“You’re so messy Kookie.” You laughed.

“Is it weird that I dreamt of all of you as humans? Like all 7 of you were in my dreams as human boys.” You suddenly said and the wolves stopped. They subtly side eyed each other at your words.

“But that’s just me being crazy.” You ruffled Hoseok’s fur with a smile. After eating, you cleaned the area and washed the dishes. You shuffled to the couch, placing your mug of water down and turning on the television. Today was going to be a total relaxed day.

“Yah! Taehyung!” You saw him stick his entire nose into your mug to drink your water.

“Ah... It’s yours now. Go ahead.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Taehyung gave you a big grin, flashing his canines as he stuck his entire nose into your mug again to drink your water.

“You guys have your own water, you know?” You nodded over to the metal bowls of water you have set out for them.

“The water tastes better when I share it with you.” Taehyung grinned, making the others scoff.

“The weather is still really good. Shall we go for a walk?” You stood up and stretched. The wolves all barked and you laughed, switching the television off and going to change. You tied your hair up into a messy bun and wore your shoes. The wolves led the way while you tried your best to keep up. You knew they were slowing down for you.

“You guys don’t need to wait for me. I’ll feel bad.” You told them.

“No way are we leaving you alone.” Jin shook his head as he continued to trot beside you.

You all continued hiking and actually made it to the cliff edge. The forest was beneath you and you stared out into the horizon. The wolves sat beside you, the wind blowing their fur back.

“This feels nice. Like we’re complete.” Jungkook closed his eyes.

“The view is amazing.” You took a deep breath. You sat down with the wolves around you. Jimin licked your cheek gently and you giggled.

“My grandfather and I used to go for walks all the time. He loved nature as well and I remember how even as a kid, he would always bring me for long walks to experience nature. I just know that he would have loved to meet all of you.” You sighed happily, thinking of your late grandfather.

“It was always just the two of us. But now, I have all of you.” You smiled, laying your head on Namjoon’s middle. He sniffed you gently and you kissed his muzzle as you relaxed.

“And we have you.” Taehyung scooted next to you.

“I thought that I was just destined to be alone forever. I was always bullied for being alone to the point I felt like I just didn’t need friends.” You continued.

“You’ll always have us. We’ll never leave you.” Jimin placed his paw on top of your hand, making you chuckle.

“Then grandpa died so suddenly. All I want to do is graduate high school and support myself properly. You know, live life as much as I can. Ever since you 7 came, I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier.” You kissed Hoseok’s head.

After staying there for a couple of hours relaxing, you all went back to the house. As you entered, the wolves stood outside, looking uneasy. You realised that you were going in alone and turned around to see all of them just standing in the front yard.

“What...” You stopped when you realised what was going on. The day has come, the one your dreaded.

“You’re leaving.” You stated. Jimin whined, his head lowering.

“It’s okay. I guess we knew that you couldn’t stay here forever right? You guys can’t possibly stay here forever- Sorry.” You looked away as your voice cracked. Taking deep breaths, you tried not to cry.

“Do you guys mind just having dinner with me? We didn’t have lunch and you guys must be hungry.” You requested. The wolves looked at each other.

“I hate seeing that look on her face.” Yoongi cursed.

“Let’s just have one more meal with her as wolves.” Jungkook sighed. They all looked at Namjoon, their pack leader. Namjoon gave a nod and the wolves looked back at you before going into the house.

“Thank you.” You whispered and went to the kitchen. You took beef out, which you actually saved to surprise them with and turned on the flame. The wolves immediately smelled the meat, along with your salty tears. They watched as you quickly took a towel and turned away from them to wipe the tears from your eyes. You met eyes with them.

“It’s just the smoke.” You quickly excused, fanning your eyes to emphasise your point.

“She’s crying...” Their hearts all broke at your tears.

“Please don’t be sad, (y/n).” Taehyung came up to you and pawed at your feet, whimpering. You forced a smile and petted his head before going back to flipping the meat in the pan.

While you waited for the beef to cook, you made some ramen for yourself. You didn’t want to waste any time cooking.

“Here. Enjoy. I bought these as a surprise for you guys.” You placed the pieces of beef down in front of them. The wolves leaned in and began to eat up the meat. You had some beef with your ramen too but you just weren’t hungry.

“Have it.” You gave them your beef.

“(y/n), you have to eat too.” They whined.

“It’s okay, I’m not hungry.” You shook your head as you stirred your ramen around but didn’t eat. Instead of gobbling down everything, the wolves ate slowly. They were all sad to see you sad, after all, they did share your emotions. You picked some bites here and there.

After the silent dinner, you were standing by the door with the wolves. They all stood in a semi circle, looking at you.

“I know you guys can’t stay here forever. It isn’t right of me to force you to stay either.” You smiled at them. Namjoon stepped up to you and you bent down.

“Be safe and don’t get hurt anymore. Promise me, you’ll visit.” You gave them all kisses and hugs, which they reciprocated by licking your cheek and giving you boops with their noses.

“We will see you again very soon. We will never be too far away from you.” Namjoon comforted.

“Thank you for accompanying this lonely girl.” You laughed.

“Don’t say that about yourself.” Yoongi sighed. The wolves waited for you to re enter the house. Once they knew you were safe, they retreated.

“I’ll see you soon.” You smiled as you cried.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, looking at the only picture of you and the wolves you had on your phone. Jin’s light grey fur, Yoongi’s pristine white fur, Namjoon’s charcoal black fur, Hoseok’s white fur with a light brown coat, Jimin’s light brown fur, Taehyung’s dark brown fur and Kookie’s dark grey fur.

They were all so unique and beautiful in their own way. The way you ran your fingers through their soft coats. You’ll never forget that feeling.

It was thanks to Jimin. You believed that fate brought him to your house that very night he got injured. Wolf or human, he was your first friend. He was so gentle and friendly.

The next day, you woke up to a quiet house. There was no sounds of footsteps, growls or whines in the living room. You headed downstairs to find the living room dark and empty. Life was back to the way it was.

“I need to go grocery shopping.” You changed and locked the door. As you were heading down to the bus stop, you saw some trucks drive past you.

“New neighbours?” You were the only cabin in your area but you were excited at the thought of new neighbours.

Maybe this was your wolves sending you the luck of making new friends.

As you waited for the bus, you turned to see the edge of the forest. Of course, there was no wolf standing there. You sighed, mentally scolding yourself for even thinking that you would see the wolves standing there, waiting with you for the bus. You had grown so used to them following you to the bus stop that it was just a habit of yours to look there.

“At least they’re free.” You told yourself as you smiled softly and stepped into the bus.

“I’m back!” Taehyung walked through the door with his hands full. He had gone to pick up some things for the other boys while the others were unpacking their clothes in their rooms.

“Did you see her?” Yoongi asked from his spot on the couch.

“Narrowly missed her when I took the bus back. She was going out to town.” Taehyung replied.

“How was she?” Jin came out of the kitchen.

“Not so good.” Taehyung shook his lowered head. The others all came out to the living room. Jimin wrapped his arms around his best friend to hug him.

“Let’s hope, she’ll be better tomorrow.” He comforted and Taehyung nodded. Jungkook grabbed a glass of milk from the fridge. He remembered one time he purposely spilt your glass of milk during breakfast just so he could drink some of it. Even if you were angry, you never showed it.

Taehyung wished he had a phone at the time he met you so he could exchange numbers with you. It would have been easier for him (and less awkward) to text you and check up on you.

“I’m going for a run.” Jungkook put his empty glass down.

“Have fun.” Yoongi yawned, wanting to go up to his room to take a nap. Jungkook removed his clothes, throwing it aside before transforming.

“Jungkook, Yoongi hyung. We got our crystals.” Namjoon stopped them. Jin took a box out with their coloured crystal necklaces. Each crystal reflected their own crystal colour.

Jin had pink, Yoongi had black, Hoseok had red, Namjoon had blue, Jimin had yellow, Taehyung had green and Jungkook had purple.

“This is for her.” Namjoon closed the box when there was one crystal necklace left. He kept it in his room while the rest returned to their activities. Jungkook’s large form took off into the forest. Jimin, Taehyung and Jin played their video games, Hoseok was building his new figurines that came in the mail, Namjoon read while Yoongi slept.

“Hyung, do we know how the hunters found us so easily?” Jimin asked Jin as they played.

“We’re not sure but we do have word from the North packs that the hunters have also been more diligent lately. We just have to be careful of where we are. Hopefully, we can stay here for a while.” Jin shrugged.

“Then the other night, (y/n) said she dreamt of us as humans, was that because of the bond?” Taehyung spoke.

“We didn’t plan to enter her dreams. We just appeared there so I would say it’s the bond that tied us to her and connected us.” The older said.

“I’ve entered her dream a few days after we met.” Jimin raised his hand.

“The same as the other night. I just appeared there and she was there. I was able to talk to her and she was able to talk to me, as if we were facing each other in real life.” Jimin relayed. The other two nodded their heads. Jin soon retreated to the kitchen to make snacks.

“Let’s try our best tomorrow.” Jimin turned to Taehyung.

“Honestly, it was so hard to control my wolf when I first saw her. I mean, I had to act like a complete stranger.” Taehyung laughed. Namjoon and Hoseok came downstairs.

“We’re trying to find out more about the wolf that tried to attack (y/n) that night we went to have our meeting.” Namjoon said.

“He wasn’t just a regular rogue?”

“He could be but why would he target (y/n)? Rogues don’t usually go out and attack humans out of no where. And (y/n) lives in such a secluded area of the forest. Why would a rogue come here?” Hoseok wondered.

“They are rogues for a reason. They roam around onto anyone’s land. They don’t obey boundary rules.” Taehyung shrugged.

“Let’s just hope he was just a rogue.” Namjoon sighed.

Jungkook came back from his run, his dark grey form covered in visible mud. Hoseok grabbed a hose to wash him down, not wanting the maknae to step into the new house like that and dirtying it. Jungkook growled at the older beta as he was drenched from head to toe. He shook the water out of his fur, making Hoseok wet as well.

“Yah.” Hoseok threw Jungkook a towel and he transformed back, wrapping the towel around his bare torso.

“That was too cold, hyung!” Jungkook complained.

“I’m not gonna risk you dirtying the house with dirt when we just moved in. We took so long just to clean it.” Hoseok scoffed, rolling his eyes. Jungkook grumbled and went in to have an actual shower.

“Hyung! I wanna eat after my shower!” Jungkook shouted as he entered his room, slamming the door behind him.

“AIsh, Jeon Jungkook.” Jin rolled his eyes as he took things out to start on their late lunch. It had been a while since Jin cooked since you have been taking good care of them. But of course, you never really understood what a big appetite wolves had so it was never really enough.

“Hoseok, help me cook the rice!” Jin called and the younger jogged over, saluting. He took the rice pot out and scooped multiple cups in.

“Can I help?” Taehyung came in.

“Help me stir this.” Jin let Taehyung take over while he busied himself with preparing the other meat side dishes.

“I have an idea! Let’s invite (y/n) over for dinner tomorrow. As new neighbours?” Taehyung suggested.

“She has work remember? Maybe the day after. If she’s up for it.” Hoseok reminded and the other two nodded their heads. They were excited to see you again and just wanted to get closer to you as humans, not as wolves. Jungkook came down and entered the kitchen. He saw the food that was ready and wanted to sneak some bites when Jin smacked him.

“You may have been able to do that with (y/n) but not with me.” Jin scolded and Jungkook whined like a puppy.

“You’re an alpha but still act like a puppy.” Jin ruffled his hair and Jungkook growled, rolling his eyes. He grabbed a piece an apple and walked to the living room to wait for the meal.

“Hyung is cooking?” A sleepy Yoongi came down. Jungkook nodded his head. The older alpha yawned and went into the kitchen.

“I miss (y/n).” Jungkook mumbled to himself.

Namjoon was taking a walk, scouting the area as the leader of his pack. He was just checking if there have been any intruders on their land besides the wolf that tried to attack you the other time.

“Ugh, did I overbuy?” He heard your voice and quickly hid himself behind some bushes. Peeking over the hedge, he watched as you trudged up the forest path with bags of groceries in your hands. Namjoon had to fight the urge that he had to just step forward and help you.

“Soon.” He sighed. But as you walked, he quietly threaded behind you, wanting to at least make sure that you make it to your house safely. He heard you humming to yourself.

“At least she’s not too sad.” Namjoon consoled himself. He knew you were strong and weren’t going to let emotions wear your down.

You were definitely the one.

Tag list

@georgie-me-myself-i @tatastaetaemainblog @dragoste-lunes @lil7bluedragon @amber-thumbs @greezenini @jisoosbitch @taozibun1 @ghostkat23 @fullvoidmoon @lovelyseomin @aclp-jb1d @mrcleanheichou @smallbaby-cat @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @veronawrites @hobisbeech @purelyecstacy @hxsxxk-180294 @bts-edits-bitch @namjoonies-dimple @cool-strawberry @kthsmullet @bubbletaetaesstuff @queenceline22 @rjsmochii @kawaiikpoplover268 @ervyst @lovelysky15 @legendaryweaseltreedream @tea-ay-en-you @councilowl @daddyjoonie @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @seoul9711 @purplelady85 @shit-loads-of-angst

1K notes · View notes

highfivesandgoodtimes · 3 years

Text

spooning - nolan patrick

****ya girl is back w another patty fic. this might be one of my favorite things I've written so let me know what you think! this is some tooth aching fluff with our favorite stoic boy.*****

“Did you just throw a spoon at me?”

Okay maybe you were being a little over dramatic. But it was warranted, he said over and over that he would be done in 5 minutes yet, here he was, 45 minutes later, still in front of that damn TV.

You knew the struggle of dating a hockey player and you were okay with them, most of the time anyways. Nolan was back on the ice this season and while you couldn’t be happier to see your boy back doing what he loves, he was driving you crazy.

Nolan had this weird thought that he had something to prove to the team, to the fans, to the entire city. After missing a season due to injury, he felt that he had to come back 10x better than he already was. You told him over and over again that it was really unnecessary since the team had faith in him and he was already playing fantastic as usual and he didn't owe those loud mouth reporters shit. Yet, it went in on ear and out the other. He spent extra time at the rink after practice, working on his shot, his speed, his passes, anything and everything he possibly could.

Which lead to right now. You had barely seen Nolan this week due to games, practices, and you working so tonight was supposed to be one night to spend time together. You were going to cook dinner and Nolan even agreed to help and cook with you. You were honestly pretty excited to spend some time together and actually have a conversation with him that wasn't “good morning” or “good night”.

Except you were standing in the kitchen, alone, halfway done cooking dinner and Nolan was sitting on the couch watching tapes from the team’s game last season against the Islanders in preparation for this weeks game. You asked multiple times for him to pause it and he promised just 5 more minutes every time.

So yes, you did throw a spoon at him.

All you did was shrug when he asked and turned around to go back to cooking.

“Babe? Did you just throw a spoon at me?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” If he wanted to lie about being done with the game, then you could lie about the spoon. It was obvious he didn’t believe you but you did hear him pause the TV and heard his feet shuffling around the floor.

You faced the stove and stir the pot you had on the burners when you felt hands slide around your waist and rest on your hips. Nolan shoved his face into your neck and he nuzzled into your skin as he pressed his body flush against yours.

He mumbled a “baby?” into your neck and you hummed in response. He pulled his head up a bit to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Why did you throw a spoon at me?”

“Why am I cooking dinner alone?”

The crickets were awfully loud tonight.

“Okay, so it appears I may have forgotten that I promised to help you cook tonight.” He leaned up and starting repeated kisses to your cheek. “I’m sorry honey, I got dishes tonight and dinner tomorrow, I promise.”. You still had yet to answer him. It may have been a bit dramatic but you were kinda hurt, all you wanted was a bit of quality time with him. Nolan continued to kiss your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and all the way down to your shoulder blade. You still gave him not reaction and focused on the stove in front of you. It wasn't until Nolan rubbed his beard into your neck and started tickling his finger against your side did you crack.

“Stop it, I’m mad at you! Couldn’t you figure that out when I chucked a spoon at your head?” you were half laughing, half trying to put up a serious front.

“Yeah, the spoon flying at my head kinda gave that away. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to forget. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He pouted at you, sliding his arms back around your waist. He pulled you flush against him once again and starts swaying side to side.

“Nol, you don’t get it. I really missed you this week, we’ve barely seen each other. I was looking forward to actually spending some time together but noooooo you just had watch more stupid hockey tapes.” you grumbled out that last part and took a rather aggressive jab at the pan with the spatula you were holding. He sat quietly for a moment while still swaying you back and forth slowly. You felt him rub his nose against your neck before he pressed his lips softly against the side of your head for a brief moment.

“You’re right. I got too caught up in being back and got lost in the hockey hype. I neglected you and our relationship. I’m sorry baby, I’ll try to not let it happen again. If it does, you have my full permission to throw more spoons at him.” he mumbled. You hummed in response, appreciating his words and knowing that he meant them. “Here, let me help.” he grabbed the spatula from your hands and bumped you out of your place in front of the stove with his hip. You stared at him in amusement as he started stiring the dinner in the pan. “Cmon, I got this. go pour some wine and put on your favorite song.” he smiled at your, nodding his head toward the bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen island. You sighed but did as he said anyway. You grabbed two glasses and poured you both some wine. You put on your “chill” playlist, a favorite of both you and Nolan, and made your way back over to the stove.

Placing the glasses on the counter, you wrapped your arms snuggly around his midsection and rested your head against his back. You rested against him for a minute and mumbled a soft “missed you” against his shirt. You watched as he lowed the flame on the stove and spun around to face you. His hands landed at your waist as he tugged you close to him. Your chin was on his chest as you stared up at him. He smiled down at you contently and bent down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Hi baby.” he said, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. He always had a way of making you feel like a giddy schoolgirl.

“Hi honey.” you smiled back at him, relishing on finally getting a moment with your boyfriend. He kissed you one last time before pulling away from your hold.

“C’mon you love this song.” He said as he grabbed your hands and pulled you into the middle of the kitchen. He spun you around by the hand and dramatically dipped you into his arms, which always made you laugh. Before long, the two of you were spinning each other around the kitchen, dramatically dipping each other. There’s a chance your attempt to dip Nolan failed majorly and he may have ended up on the floor while you cracked up but that was a story for another time.

The two of spun around the kitchen, smiling, laughing, and just enjoying the time you two had together for a couple songs until Nolan realized dinner needed to be finished. He returned to the stove, stirring food around in the pot, while you perched on the counter with your glass of wine. Nolan told you all about his practice and all the funny things the boys chirped at each other while you caught him up on all of the latest work drama and the conversation you had with his sister a few days before.

You passed Nolan plates as he placed dinner on them and the two of you headed to the table. Dinner was lovely, the conversation flowing as smooth as always. Smiles were spread across both of your faces as both of you clearly loved having this time to catch up with each other. Nolan smiled extra softly at you as you told him how dinner with your friends went the other night and reached out to hold your hand across the table.

“You know,” he started as you finished your story, “this is all I want in life. I just want me and you, together like this, for the rest of my life.”

“I- you- what?” you stuttered as he caught you off guard. He chuckled at your surprise and kissed your hand.

“Babes, you can’t be surprised by that. We’ve legit talked about marriage and kids, why would I not want you for the rest of my life?” he asked you. Well he did have a point, we had talked often about your future together and have recent taken the step to move in together.

“I don’t know, just caught me by surprise. It’s always nice to hear though, I want you forever too Nols. You’re it for me.” you said as you leaned over the table to kiss him.

“Thanks baby, you’re it for me too.” he replied back to you in his typical deep voice. He lifted the back the your hand that he was holding up to his lips, kissing it gently. Then, in true Nolan fashion, he casually changed the conversation to a story about the boys messing around and almost getting in trouble this morning after practice.

The two of you ended the night by migrating to your bed, opting for a movie and some comfy clothes. You laid with your head on his shoulder and you two watched the next couple episodes of the newest show you had been binging. You rolled closer to him, resting your head in the curve of his neck and wrapping your arms around his shirtless torso. His hand fell into your hair and your eyes fell shut at the calming feeling. You felt yourself start to doze off but not before you felt Nolan pull you closer and press a kiss to the top of your hair. He mumbled a soft “love you” as you fell asleep, thankful that you decided to throw a spoon at him.

254 notes · View notes

nite-shay · 3 years

Text

My Neighbor: Hawks - (Takami Keigo / Hawks x Reader

Funny Idea: Your neighbor is hawks.

Winged hero: Hawks. One of the fastest and youngest heroes pro heroes. Number 2 in hero ranks and number 1 in most eligible bachelors in all of Japan.

And drum roll, please! *Drummy sounds* Tada! He is your neighbor! Shocking, I know, right? The title totally doesn't give it away! Nope, not at all!

Anyways, you might be wondering, 'Nite! How did that happen?'

Well.. ya see... that funny story…

Also, sorry for any typo :)

Enjoy!

Notes: reader is 20+. No warning. Mild rating.

****

"Please be fixed. Please be fixed. "You quietly prayed as you hesitantly reached for the handle that leads to the lobby of your apartment building.

The leasing office sent out a mass email earlier, letting all the tenants know that the central air was 'currently out of order' and they are 'working quickly to resolve the issue.' At least they were 'extremely sorry for any inconvenience this may cause and appreciate the patience of all tenants.'

They also explained how per the lease agreements, no discounts would be provided for maintenance issues and that the full rent would still be due.

I really need to move…

It just had to go out right smack dab in the middle of summer. And on one of the hottest days on record, no less!

You took a deep breath and pushed open the door into what could only be described as a magma cavern. Nope, you weren't on a tropical island; this was just the lobby. Damn, if it was this hot here, you can't imagine what your apartment must feel like.

You trudged your way through the muggy lobby grabbing your mail on your way over to the stairwell. By the time you made up to the very top floor, you were out of breath and drenched in sweat. Honestly, it looked like you just took a dip in a pool. Your clothes clung to every part of your sticky, overheating body. Hell, you were just happy you didn't have a heat stroke by the time you reached your front door.

You prayed your apartment would be cooler.

It wasn't!

It was giving the stairwell a run for its money.

Oh, hell no... NOPE! Not dealing with this.

You marched through the doorway, making sure to lock the door behind you, not like it would make much of a difference. You didn't see or hear anyone on the trip up or in the hallways. No doubt the other residences did the smart thing and retreated for someplace much cooler. You tossed the stack of mail on your end table without checking it. You'd deal with it later. More than likely, the postal carrier had mixed them up again with the tenant next door.... again...

Later problem for later me! Cool now!

You barely made it to your living room before you started peeling your sweat-soaked clothes off. Thankfully you lived alone, so you didn't have to worry about shocking anyone as you made your way to your bedroom. Tossed your clothes in the hamper before slipping into the thinnest shorts and tank top you could find. You would have said to hell with clothes in general at this point, but if you were going to cool this place off, you need to get some airflow in this place asap. That means windows and doors need to be open.

And for the next hour, that's what you did. Every window you had was open as far as they would go, along with the sliding glass door that led to your balcony. The breeze that flowed through your home was still hot and muggy, but it was then nothing. You also gather any and every fan you had, even the pitiful little desk fan that sounded like it was on its last leg. If it ocellated or moved air in any way, shape, or form, that bitch was on high!

It took a little bit, but it felt like you could breathe as the temperature started to drop. Of course, by then, you were on the verge of dehydration and also contemplated, more than once, curling up in your fridge until that accursed flaming ball of gas in the sky went down.

But you had food in there, and you can't waste food. Damn it.

Speaking of food...

You enjoyed a large bowl of ice cream and about three glasses of water. You reveled in the coolness of the sweet treat in your stomach, which gave you motivation for your next venture.

A nice cool shower.

You let the cool water flow over your whole body for what seemed like forever. Letting it wash away the stress, heat, and sweat of the day right down the drain. By the time you were done, your fingers were pruney, and the sun had descended entirely.

Damn, you were tired.

You lazily dried yourself and considered just going to bed as you were. You were on the 15th floor of your apartment building, so it wasn't like you had to worry about anyone peeking in your window. But you still didn't feel comfortable sleeping naked with your windows opened, and you really didn't want to close them.

After a short debate, you settled on a thin tank, and underwear was a good compromise.

Your body felt sluggish as you made your track to your bedroom. It was still relatively early, but between your job and the heat, you were completely and utterly wiped.

Bed... Sleep...

You showed your bed no mercy as you tore the covers off the nicely made bed and tossed them across the room. Then with no grace whatsoever, you let yourself collapse into the cool embrace of your mattress. Between the comfort of your bed and the white-nose of the fans, it didn't take long for drifted off to sleep.

***Later that night

The summer night air was hot and humid as the Wing hero: Hawks, flew high above the city. Even at the higher altitude, the air was so thick, it felt like he was swimming in a dense swamp rather than soaring through the sky. His whole body felt sore and heavy, so much so that he was actually an effort to keep himself afloat.

Damn, that villain really did a number on me. One more hit, and my goose would have been cooked.

The shift today had been long and hard, thanks to a tough group of villains that left him banged up and exhausted. He ended up having to get patched up at a hospital. The doc that ended up putting him back together tried to get him to stay, but he managed to talk him into agreeing on releasing him. Though, he would have flown the coupe either way. He couldn't stand hospitals or clinics. Not that there was anything wrong with those places. They just reminded him too much of the commission. Orderly. Sterile. Functional.

Which is nice for a hospital, not for life. He has almost 20 years of experience with it to make him an expert on that subject.

Shit got old quick….

Though honestly, it wasn't like his place was much better. It was a simple bed, one bath apartment. Top floor, of course, with a balcony that looked over the inconspicuous neighborhood it was built in. Now being the number two hero, you'd think he makes enough to live somewhere a bit more… well, expensive. But while he did live the high life, it was nice to have a place he could go and just be Keigo, not Hawks.

And speaking of, he could see his balcony coming into view.

He swooped down over the rallying, stumbling a bit in the landing. It was pitch black, and his eyes felt as heavy as his body. Thankfully, though, he didn't fallout then there. Camping wasn't his thing, and while the balcony was rather spacious, his bed sounded much more comfortable.

Ahh, home sweet home.

That's weird. Did I forget to lock the door again?

He shrugged, not giving it much thought. He'd been in a hurry this morning, getting called in for an emergency issue downtown. And it wasn't like the first time he'd forgotten to lock the door behind him. Plus, he lived on the top floor; it's not like he had to worry about people just walking in off the streets.

Lot easier targets than his humble abode.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Damn, it was hot. He must have forgotten to turn the AC on this morning. The apartment was hot and muggy, but he honestly couldn't have cared less. An oven sounded like a good place to take a nap at this point. His body started moving on its own towards the bedroom, stripping out of his hero costume along the way.

Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep.

His mind chanted over and over, clothes would be tomorrow's problem. He didn't even bother turning on any lights as he maneuvered through the living room and down the hallway. He'd lived there for over a year, so he knew the layout like the back of his hand.

By the time he made it to his bed, he was down to only his boxers. He was about to pull those down, too, but the moment his legs came in contact with the mattress, it was like whatever energy was left was drained out of him.

He sighed and let his body fall forward across the bed that would give him the sweet relief he so desperately needed.

Thump!

Huh? Why did his mattress feel all lumpy?

A loud shriek jolted him back to life long enough to realize that he was not alone. That the lumps in his bed weren't his covers, but a body.

There was a person in bed.

He shifted his weight, forcing himself up as the body under him started to trash and yell.

"Huh? What are you doing in my-" He managed to murmur out before a sharp pain to the side of his head finally did him in, and his mind gave in to the darkness of unconsciousness.

********

Your dreams were a God sent.

You were in a winter wonderland. Cool snowflakes danced all around. A cool breeze would blow every now again. It was like you could hear the clinking sound of ice hitting the window. Oh, what was that? The sound of heavy snow falling from the tree limbs? How wonderful!

So wonderful. So peaceful. So cool.

But everything changed when you were jolted awake by something pinning you to your bed. Whatever it was, was large, heavy, and sweaty.

You shrieked as you realized it was a person! There was a person on top of you! You trashed about trying to push the weight off of you, but you couldn't seem to get them off you. You screamed louder and struggled harder until their weight shifted.

"Huh?" The voice above you was drowsy sounding definitely that of an adult male. Your panic doubled as he shifted again, giving you a little more wiggle room. You still couldn't get free, but you took the opportunity to reach for something, anything to defend yourself with. Like hell, you were going down without a fight! Finally, you managed to wrap your fingers around something large on your bedside table. "What are you doing in my-?" You didn't let your attacker finish as you bashed the lamp into the side of his head.

He let out a loud 'off' as he rolled off the bed, giving you enough time to scrabble to the opposite side of the bedroom, hitting the lights.

Were those....wings?

Peaking over the side of the bed was, in fact, crimson feathers.

Who or what the fuck is that?

*******

Hawk's head pounded as he slowly stirred.

Shit, did he get drunk last night?

Slowly he opened his eyes, wincing from the light flooding the room along the memories of the night before. That's weird; he didn't remember turning on any lights.

Was it morning already?

He went to stretch his sore, aching body but quickly realized he couldn't.

He glanced down at himself and saw that yeap he was in his boxers and tied- wait.... were those power cord and... belts?

He blinked. What the hell? His upper body was bound in what looked to be a mix of various power cords and belts. Did someone break into his place and attack him?

Who in their right mind would break into his house? He was a hero! One of the top in the country!

He sighed as he tested the 'ropes.' Well, if this was a robbery, it was poorly planned, to put it mildly. The assailant left his wings completely free, and the binding was so poorly tied that he could slip right, with little effort.

A squeak of a floorboard caused his head to jerk up and glare at his attacker. A person carefully stepped into his view. And well, of all the things he'd been prepared for... you weren't it. And certainly not you, in nothing but your underwear, a tank top, and wielding a lamp like it was a baseball bat.

Well... this is... unexpected.

He could only stare at you in confusion that years of training couldn't even stop. Huh? You didn't look like a villain, much less a burglar. Honestly, you didn't look like a fighter at all.

If you weren't a villain, then...

He mentally groaned.

Great. You were a fan... and a crazy one at that.

Over his career, he's had a few run-ins with crazy or obsessed fans of his. He couldn't count the number of times he's had to change his phone number or move his safe house. Even with the commission on his side, his info still got out!

Maybe they should start hiring them instead...

Well... at least you were easy on the eyes. He thought as he gave you a once over. Your hair was a mess, and was that a bit of drool on your chin?

Yeap, just another crazy yet fairly active fan.

"Hey there." He greeted you with a warm smile, causing you to jump. He needed to play this out some. Escaping wouldn't be a problem, and he already had a few feathers at the ready in case you tried something. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. As irritated as he was at you, he didn't want to hurt you. You weren't a villain, just... confused. "It's not every day, I wake up to beauty like you. How about you untie me so I can introduce myself properly."

He gave you a charming smile as he watched your face go from nervous to confused and then to anger.

"L-Like, hell, I'm telling you my name after what you did!" You took a step forward and raise your weapon up slightly higher, ready to strike. "And don't flirt with me, you creep!"

Hmm, that usually works.

"My bad. I didn't mean to offend you. If you untie me, I'm sure I can figure out a few ways to make up for it." He winked, keeping his smile friendly and inviting. He needed to figure a way out of this that didn’t involve him hurting you or land him on every news station in the country.

*****

"You're seriously fucked up in the head, you know that! I am not untying you!" You yelled as a blush slowly crept over your cheeks. You were shocked at the stones this guy had! He broke into your home and attacked you while you were asleep. And now he was flirting with you?! Like this, a date or something!

Something in his eyes flashes for a split second, and you saw one of his wings twitch.

Why did he keep looking at you like that?

"D-Don't try anything! The police are on their way!" At least you hoped they were. You hadn't been able to call them, cause stupid you forgot to put your phone to charge when you got home. It was completely dead. You could only hope one of your neighbors who stayed had neared the commotion and called for help.

"Police?" His golden bird-like eyes went wide for a moment. Did he really think you wouldn't call for help?

"Yes, the police! You broke into my home and attacked me in my sleep! What did you just expect me to call for a parade?!"

"Wait…" You could see the gears turning in his head as he glanced around your room. His eyes suddenly went wide.

"So… you're not one of my fans?"

"Fan? WHY THE HELL WOULD I BE A FAN OF A PSYCHO LIKE YOU!?!"

"Wait! This is just a misunderstanding!"

"How the hell is breaking into someone's home, attacking them in their bed in the middle of the night a 'misunderstanding'?"

"Look, all I remember is flying home. Walking through my…" The man trailed off. "Wait, what address is this?"

"Like I'd give my address to a villain?" You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"I'm already here like it's really going to make a difference?" He growled before giving you a glare. You watched as his wings poofed up a bit. "Also, watch the insults. I'm a hero, not a villain."

"Likely story." You deadpanned. "You could at least come up with something more believable than that..."

"W-wait... You don't recognize me?" You gave him a once over. "Take a really good look at me." His wings stretched out a bit. "Anything thing ring a bell?" You just stared at him blankly. Granted, he was good looking, and if he wasn't a criminal, he could easily be on the cover of a magazine. "Seriously?"

"Pretty convenient of you to pick the home of someone who doesn't follow heroes, huh?"

"More like, inconvenient. If you did, you'd recognize me in a heartbeat." He sighed. "Look, just check my pants pocket. You'll find my credentials."

"How do I know this isn't just a trick? Or maybe they're fake."

"It's not a trick! Look, if you're that worried, just get your phone and google me. I'm the wing hero: Hawks." Huh? Why would he suggest that? He wouldn't know about your phone... so why would he tell you to get it? You could call for help. That should be the last thing he wants. You pondered for a moment.

****

"Fine, I'll check. But this better not be a trick," You paused. "cause if it is, I got another lamp with your name on it!" He watched as you gradually made your way towards his discarded clothes. While you searched for his wallet, he glanced over to the shattered remains of what he assumed was your first weapon.

Well, that explains the small blood trail on the side of his head and his headache.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you found it. You made your way back to him as he watches you juggle, keeping your on him, holding the lamp, and reading his ID.

"Hero license, Hero: Hawks, Name: Takami Keigo." You mumbled as your eyes darted between the ID's picture and himself. He could still see the doubt in your eyes. Damn, if this didn't work, he was going to have to free himself. Hopefully, he'd be quick enough to do that and subdue you without hurting you much. "Wait… Takami… Keigo.." Your eyes went wide, and he had to admit, his name sounded a little too good coming from you. "Wait! That's the name on the mail that keeps getting put in my box!" A look of realization and shock washes over you. "You're my neighbor!"

"Ah, so you're the one that's been slipping my mail under my door!" He couldn't help but smile and sigh internally. Finally, somethings going right! " Nice to finally meet you! Sorry I haven't had a chance to introduce myself before now. Work keeps me pretty busy."

"You're a hero… and you're my neighbor…." Your eyes were wide as you stared at him.

"Looks that way."

"THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU BREAK INTO MY HOME!"

"It was an accident! I swear! I was exhausted and just flew to the wrong balcony. Honest. The glass door was open, and I didn't even realize I was in the wrong place." He tried to reason with you.

"Didn't you think it was a little strange that the furniture wasn't yours, or how about the fact that I was IN the bed?"

"Like I said, I was exhausted." He just shrugged before mumbling. "And well, let's just say you wouldn't be the first time a fan found where I lived and tried to surprise me in bed."

".... so you thought I was some psycho who broke into your home just to try and sleep with you…" You glared at him, clearly annoyed. "You realize I'm still holding a weapon right now, and remember..." You gestured with the lamp. "I gotta pretty mean swing..."

"Easy there, Chickadee. I'm joking. And I wouldn't call you psycho just... A little touched in the head." That earned him a glare that made him chuckle. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"You like pissing people off, don't you?"

"I've been known to ruffle some feathers from time to time."

"Look," You sighed as you tried to process everything that just happened. "This is just... too much..." You sat the lamp down finally. "Damn, I'm sorry."

"No worries. This one on me." He made a move to stand.

"Oh, here, let me..."

"All good, I got it." He stood up, letting the restraints fall off of him like they weren't even there, let alone tied.

"H-how did y-you?"

"Oh, yeah. Word of advice, ya might wanna work on knots." He chuckled as he stretched.

"Y-You could have gotten free at any time… why didn't you?"

"Like I said, I'm a hero." He walked forward while you moved to the side, eyes still wide-eyed." If I'd freed myself before you realized who I was, you would have freaked out. Honestly, the last thing I want is for you to get hurt or you to go screaming down the hallway in your underwear." He informed you as your face turned beet red, and you then tried to pull your shirt down. He laughed at the poor attempt to hide. "Well then, gotta say this would make a hell of a story, but I'd really appreciate it if we kept this between us." He could help but tease you more. You looked so damn cute when you're flustered. "Not to brag or anything, but I'm a pretty well-known hero and have a reputation to uphold." He sent out a few of his feathers to help gather his gear while he talked to you. You were so entranced watching his feathers work that he had to repeat himself again.

"I-I-I… Yes!" Your eye finally snapped back into focus on him. "Of course! Just between us!"

"Great! Glad that's settled." He took a step towards you and held out his hand. You finally got the message and handed his wallet back to him. "My superiors and PR would have my tail feathers if this got out." He ginned. "Well, would you look at the time!" He grinned while making his way to the sliding glass door and out to the balcony, his floating clothes trailing behind him. "Best be on my way. I have an early shift in the morning. Sweet dream angle." And with that, he stepped out to the balcony and fluttered over to his.

Damn, what a night!

*****

Extra:

The next morning.

You woke up late, groggy and sweaty. The AC was still out, and your apartment was slowly heating up.

With a heavy sigh, you forced yourself out of bed, put on shorts, and headed to the kitchen.

Last night was a hell of a night.

Your neighbor is a hero...

What are the odds of that?

You reached up into your cabinet and pulled down your favorite cereal.

Whatever, he can't be that good if he made that big of a mistake, right?

You quickly made your breakfast and headed for your balcony. There was a slight breeze blowing that morning, making it almost bearable outside.

Almost...

Huh? What's that?

There was a large brown bag sitting on your patio table.

That wasn't there before...

You sat your bowl down and picked it up. Whatever it was, it was a decent size and heavy. You opened the bag, and the first thing you found was a note.

'Sorry again about last night. Here's a little gift for you to make up for it.

Bet you could do some real damage with this one. Batter up, chickadee!

Your neighbor,

-Hawks'

You reached further into the bag and pulled out... a lamp?

It was made out of wood and metal, making the damn thing large and pretty heavy. It was well made and couldn't have been cheap! You pulled it further out of the back, and when you saw the shape of the body, you couldn't help it: you busted out laughing. The damn thing was in the shape of a roaster!

Your neighbor... is a hero... and a strange one at that...

********

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

130 notes · View notes

insomniamamma · 3 years

Text

“Surf City Goodness”: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

A/n: This is the same AU as “Ferris Wheels Are for Old People” and “Liminal” but you don’t have to read those to read this one. Ezra loses his arm in an automobile accident which kills his brother, Damon and orphans his niece, Cee. Reader lives across the street from Ezra and they’ve been friendly for sometime but now it’s something more. Set after “Ferris Wheels Are For Old People” This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape ‘s Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of sex. Mentions of drug abuse. Mentions of traumatic injury/surgical scars. Mentions of Reader’s ex. Cee needs her own warning, but mostly this is just fluff. Ez and Cee and Reader enjoy a trip to the beach. I will include some songs from Cee’s playlist at the end.

Iggy Pop's voice warbles out of the speakers. "I wanna go to the beach, I don't care if it's decadent, I don't know where my spirit went, but that's alright..." "This seems a bit bleak, Birdie," says Ezra. "Quit your griping, you'll get your surf city goodness soon enough," says Cee and grins. Part of the deal they've worked out is that Cee gets to pick the music for any road trip longer than two hours, otherwise it's NPR until the signal fades and then whatever classic rock they can pick up. The three of you are crammed in the cab of Ezra's battered Ford Ranger. Cee is the smallest so she sits in the middle. The truck's bed is full of gear, air mattresses and sleeping bags and towels, a cooler filled with food and another filled with beer. I don't know what conditions we'll find exactly, Ez told you, We haven't been back here in some time. "If there's spiders I'm sleeping in the truck," you said and Ezra smiled, and pressed his remaining hand over his heart. "Never fear, Sunshine, I will protect your from our arachnid friends."

"Hey Sunshine!" Ezra calls from his front porch. You look up from your laptop to see Ezra and Cee laden with grocery bags. "Hey, Ez, you need a hand?" He smirks. This is an old joke between the two of you. When Ezra first came home, with Cee and without his arm, they were unloading Cee and Damon's things, bags and boxes and you, without thought had asked if he needed a hand, it just came out and you'd clapped your hands to your mouth, and then spluttered, I'm so sorry I didn't mean--and Ezra laughed, of course I need a hand. I'm down to just the one. "Always," he says. You loop the plastic bags over your arms, sweating packages laden with ground beef and bratwursts and chicken thighs. "You all having a party?" "We're going to the beach," says Cee. "You should come with us. It'll be fun." "Jesus, Cee," he mutters and then collects himself and smiles, "I had meant to ask you before this one jumped the gun-" "It's fine. Really." "You still working remotely?" asks Ezra. "For now. There's some talk about keeping my department remote." "Good thing or bad thing?" "Good thing," you say, "I like working in my pajamas." "Good thing because you could come with us," says Ezra. "Ez--" "I'm dead serious," he says, "Cee's got a four day weekend. We've got decent internet. Damon saw to that before...well, before. Mind you, this will probably be something of a working vacation. Ma's house has stood empty sometime. Damon used to keep it up but..." Ezra trails off. It's a small town. Damon's drug problems were more or less public knowledge. You think of the files you still need to edit, but for once you're ahead of the game. None of that is due until midway through next week. You've got some wiggle room if things go south. "Yeah? Yeah, fuck it. I'm coming with." Ezra smiles wide, revealing his dimples. And that's how you end up in the cab of Ezra's beat-to-shit truck listening to Cee's fun and somewhat baffling playlist.

"Talk to me, baby,I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh, Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy, I-I-I-I-I keep on hopin' we'll eat cake by the ocean..." "Is this a parody?" Asks Ezra, "Like a Weird Al Yankovic thing?" "No," says Cee, "It's an actual song. One of the Jonas brothers did it." "Someone greenlit and recorded this on purpose." "Yep." "A song. About eating cake on a beach." Cee gives you a sly look. "It's a metaphor, Ez," she says, "They're eating something but it's not cake." You have to hold in a laugh, watching the gears in Ezra's brain grind, watching his eyes go big. "Ohmygod! Cee!" Cee cackles and you snort laughter. "You are fifteen years old! You are a minor child! You should not be going there! You should not even know that there exists!" Ezra's cheeks go red. Cee is wheezing, eyes screwed shut with laughter, her own cheeks flaming, "You. Should see. Your face," she says. "It's not funny!" "Oh, it's funny," you say, "She got you good." "Come on, Ez," says Cee, "You think I can't recognize a poorly veiled sexual reference when I hear one? It doesn't take a genius--" "You are a terror," says Ezra, and Cee grins, proud of the title, "And you--" he arcs and eyebrow in your direction--"Are not helping matters." You give him your brightest smile. "What can I say? I thought it was just a song about some goofballs eating cake by the ocean." He huffs, but you can see the smirk creeping up his cheek as he drives.

The house at the end of the driveway is small, a cottage really, single storied and built up on stilts like the others around it, painted a faded robin's egg blue with white trim. The garage is underneath the house, room enough for one car and next to it is a room built to shelter the water heater and plumbing. A wooden staircase snakes up to a deck that wraps the entire structure. Sea grass sprouts in clumps from the sand. It's hot inside, a stale heat, and the first thing you do is open all the windows. "I think there's a couple box fans in the storage space," says Ezra, "I'll go fetch them." The back deck overlooks the ocean, pale expanse of sand and the gentle lap of blue-green sea, a wooden staircase reaches down to the sand below. The day is bright and hot and shot through with high cirrus clouds. You and Ezra have stripped the sheets from the beds and popped them in the washer, loaded the dishwasher, put fans in the windows. "This is cleaner than I expected," says Ezra, "Maybe Damon cared more than I gave him credit for." Ezra's face clouds. You take his hand, squeeze his fingers in yours. You know little about Damon other than the town gossip and what Ezra himself has told you. You don't understand the convolutions of their relationship, you just know that Damon is a slow-healing wound, and that it does Ezra no good to pick at it. You tug at him. "C'mon. Let's get changed. Cee's already got her suit on."

"Turn around, Birdie, let me get your back." Cee rolls her eyes but does as she's asked. Ezra sprays sunscreen across her bony shoulders and rubs it in. "I found a boogie board under the deck," says Cee, "And some toys from when I was real small. I found those floaty things you all used to put on my arms, remember those?" "I do," says Ezra, "Damon chucked you into the surf without so much as a by-your-leave. It scared the hell out of Ma but you laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You're good to go, Little Bird." "Thanks, Ez." And she's down the stairs, heading towards the surf. "Your turn, Sunshine," he says and you turn your back to him. He presses a kiss against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, that one place that makes you squirm and shiver, right on the line between erogenous and ticklish. "Menace--" you say and then squawk when the cold spray hits you, soothed by the passage of his calloused palm across your shoulders, gently gripping the nape of your neck, and you lean back against him briefly, relishing his solidity, his warmth, his hand rests lightly on your hip. "Let me get your back," you say. Ezra turns his back to you and shucks out of his t-shirt. He's already ditched his prosthetic arm. Don't know how seaworthy it is, he'd said, as expensive as it was I don't care to find out. You shake the can of sunscreen and blast him with it. "Christ! That's cold!" "We gotta make sure Cee reapplies after a couple hours," you say, smoothing your hands over his broad back, relishing the slide of his tanned skin beneath your palms, "She'll burn to a crisp otherwise." You press your fingers into the tight muscles of his neck and he makes a contented sound like a purr in his chest. "You're always so tense right here," you say and dig your fingers in, feeling the thrumming muscles loosen somewhat under your touch. Ezra leans back into you as you did to him moments ago, your arms snake around his shoulders, tuck your face against the side of his neck. This thing with you and Ezra is soft and languid and you're not sure how to define it. This is not the fevered, clawed territory of young lovers, the sort of push and pull you had with your ex, the idea that love had to keep proving itself somehow. With Ezra there is nothing to prove. He seems content to ride this gentle wave, to let things play out in their own time. "Turn around," you murmur against his skin, "Not done with you yet." "Now, I am perfectly capable of applying--" he starts, but you see his eyes drop, and know it for what it is. You've known Ezra for a while. The two of you were always friendly, since you moved in across the street from him. Ezra before was even more exuberant, had a swagger about him, confidence in his own skin that is only just now trying starting to return. Ezra before would preen under your gaze if he caught you looking at him while he repainted his deck or put down mulch in his garden, Ezra now shrinks from your eyes. You can see the self-doubt seep in. The worry about his scars, that the loss of his arm makes him less, somehow. "I know," you say, "Maybe I just want an excuse to get handsy." He arcs an eyebrow at you, that brief flash of doubt replaced with his more familiar smug smirk. "Well, have at it, by all means," he says. You spray him with the sunscreen and start rubbing it in, smoothing over his freckled shoulders, down his upper arms, mindful of the tender skin at the end of his stump, the dips of his clavicles, his broad chest, littered in angry pink scars that shout in contrast to the rest of his skin. Punched indentations along his ribs where they'd stuck in tubes to drain the air and blood out of his collapsed lungs. You work your way down along his soft belly and back up his sides, a hissed intake of breathe and you stop. "Does that hurt?" "Nah. Tickles." "Mmm-hmmm. I'll have to remember that so I can use it to my advantage later." "Oh and I'm the menace," he says, his arm curls low around your hip, pulling you nearly flush with him, and you complete the motion, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him tight against you, your chin notched over his shoulder. Cee is creeping up the stairs with a battered plastic bucket in her hands. She shoots you a grin and you know exactly what she has in mind. You back up a little, cup Ezra's stubbled cheeks in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. "Surprise," you say and take a big step back. There's just time enough for that little furrow to start between his brows and then Cee dowses him, a whole bucket of seawater poured directly over his head. He splutters. His eyes go big and round. Cee is doubled over laughing. "Oh," he says, blinking salt water out of his eyes, "Oh that's it. Today's the day, Cee! I am going to drown you!" "Gotta catch me first, old man!" says Cee and pelts down the beach. You run after them, their bright laughter peals through the warm summer air. Ezra grabs Cee and dunks her into an oncoming wave. She emerges splashing great fans into Ezra's face. "It is only proper that I took my vengeance," says Ezra, holding his hands out to deflect the spray. "I don't think the Geneva conventions apply here, you douche-canoe," says Cee. "Oi! That language--" This is your opening. You grab Ezra around his waist and push off backward into the oncoming wave, pulling him down with you. The two of you come back up, coughing and laughing, arms slung around each other. There's no shadow in Ezra's eyes now, you press your lips to his, the waves roll over you, the tide dragging at your bodies while you and him remain still. Press of your lips to his, your tongue licks out and tastes salt on his lips and he opens for you, his hand cupping the back of your head, guiding you against him, his tongue stroking against yours, no battle for dominance, this, just the plush heat of his mouth, the heave of your chests when you finally break apart, waist deep in the ocean. "I--" says Ezra and Cee's splash hits at face level. "Gotcha!" she crows, and starts running. "You miserable little rat!" He hollers, chasing her through the surf. You stand hip deep in the water and laugh. You're not sure what you and Ezra are to each other. Lovers? Friends? Family? Whatever it this is, it feels right and good. It feels like being home.

A/n: Here is a sampling of Cee’s beach trip playlist:

“I Want To Go To The Beach” by Iggy Pop

“Telstar” by The Tornados

“Cake By The Ocean” by DNCE

“Rockaway Beach” by The Ramones

“Misirlou” by Dick Dale and his Del-Tones

#writer wednesday #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #ezra and cee #prospect au #prospect contemporary AU

38 notes · View notes

nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

Note

may i request nagito asking out his best friend while theyre students in hope's peak?

Mod Mikan’s note: Here you go, darling! I did this in the form of a headcanon since it was easier for me to format the sequence of events, so I apologize if you wanted a drabble. I hope this suffices!

-Before you and Nagito were a couple, you were best friends!

-Nagito never really had any close friends before, aside from Hajime, and sometimes Chiaki. After all, his luck was unpredictable, he could’ve ended up hurting his loved ones

-But that didn’t stop you from sitting next to the adorable, marshmallow haired boy on that faithful day

-You were walking along the halls of the prestigious institution, admiring the intricate designed moldings and sunlight that passed through the glass windows. Looking around for room 312, you still couldn’t shake yourself off from this dram

-You, (Y/N) (L/N), was now known as the ultimate (Y/T). You were guaranteed success in the future. You were in Hope Peak’s academy--could this get any better?

-With a gasp of relief, you managed to find your first period classroom, a few students sitting in their seats. With your hands slightly shaking, you powered through your anxiety, walking inside the classroom. Before you could pull out a chair from the first empty desk you could find, you were stopped by another hand

-”Excuse me?! What the hell do you think you’re doing near MY desk, you fucking piece of pig barf?!”

-You looked up, seeing a petite girl that looked like she was visiting from the elementary program. However, her nasty attitude was the aspect of her that caught your eye. Though...not in a good way

-”Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. I’m new here. Is this your desk?” I asked her, trying to fan out the flames that she lit from her stubborn, hot-headed persona. The blond scoffed and yanked the chair away from me

-”You’re new? CLEARLY! Yes, this is my goddamn desk! Anyone with a brain can realize that. I don’t care who you are, but since you pissed me off, you can go sit with the hope obsessed whatever over there!” With a flick of a pointed finger, she presented a cute boy with cloud like hair, reading a book at his desk. I cocked my brow, turning my attention from the male back to the childlike girl

-”Eh? And who made you the keeper of the seats?” I shot back at her, every word of the second statement laced with some sass. With your hands placed on your hips, the blond just crossed her arms, staring at you challengingly

-”Ugh, I feel even less talented just looking at you! If you wanna save yourself from total embarrassment AND from being treated even worse than Tsumiki, then get out of my sight!”

-Wow........

-Followed by an eye roll, you whizzed passed the bratty girl. You only sat next to the boy she previously pointed you because it was the only open seat that was the farthest away from her. Well, you probably know who you aren’t going to call for missed notes

-With the thud of your bag hitting the wood floor underneath your new desk, you sat down near the cute boy. He closed his book, turning to you. Before you could say hello, he beat you to the punch. However, his first words towards you shocked you even more than the spoiled girl you first met

-”Oh, you must be the new student I heard about. (Y/N) (L/N), the ultimate (Y/T), right? Well, my name is Nagito Komeada, the ultimate lucky student. I know my talent isn’t really that great compared to yours. And my trashy presence is probably boring you right now. Don’t worry. I’ll go so you don’t have to feel embarrassed being near me,”

-.......................Was everyone at Hope Peak’s academy this weird?

-As the white haired male gathered his things, you frowned, thinking that you were destined to be an outcast here. You already made an enemy without even saying much, and now you just pushed away a potential friend

-As you let out a depressed sigh, the pale boy couldn’t help but frown to. He stopped picking up his things, placing them back on his desk. He sat down again, apologizing for making you feel bad

-”Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. Did you...actually want to get to know me?” He asked you, making you nod. This made his foregoing cheerful smile form again on his face, as he turned his whole body towards you

-”I’m so flattered someone with such a hopeful talent wants to talk with a worthless human being like me! You said it was your first day at this school, right? Maybe I can show you around during lunch if you want,” He offered. At first, his harsh view of himself baffled you a bit. Not really the most appropriate way of introducing yourself to someone. Nevertheless, you shrugged this fact off and accepted his offer to show you around school

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

-From that day forward, Nagito Komeada became your best friend

-Before you two started dating, you use to do everything together. The only things that changed after you guys were a couple was a few pet names here and there and kissing/hand-holding

-Nagito tried to keep his distance as much as he could after showing you around. After all, everything went smoothly after he showed you around school. It was screaming for bad luck to occur not only to him, but to you to!

-How dare trash like him tarnish an innocent, loving ultimate like yourself with his despair inducing luck cycle? It was foolish of him to think that he could ever have the honor of calling an ultimate like yourself a close friend. He would only cause you trouble--be a burden

-Yeah, like that was going to stop you

-You basically sat near Nagito during class time, lunch, after school activities, and even walked home together. While Nagito tried to end your conversations as soon as possible, you were skeptical. Didn’t he like you? Or...was it just pity that he just chose to stay in his seat near you on your first day?

-His distance between you was quickly closed when he explained his luck cycle to you during cleaning time. He ended his reasoning with a sigh, preparing for you to leave and never talk to him again. He even had a few suggestions on moving desks in class

-But what you said startled the pale boy

-”I’d like you see your bad luck try to tear us apart. I don’t know what it’ll bring for us in the future, but I do know one thing: I’ll never leave your side, Nagito. I enjoy being around you and nothing can change that”

-From that day, Nagito’s attitude did a whole one eighty and you two became inseperable

-Was it really possible for someone as disgusting as him to be friends with an ultimate? Going over to each other’s places to do homework, watching bad movies and eating slightly burnt baked cookies, laughing at terrible jokes inside jokes no one else would understand.....

-No......Nagito knew he didn’t even deserve to think about you in such a way. But the infamous lucky student could help but grow...an even more intimate bond with you. He already braced himself for a rejection, mentally preparing himself for the utmost despair that would flood his heart. Could he even work up the courage to tell you these strong feelings? Was he being selfish? He already felt greedy enough for keeping you away from hanging out with the other ultimates--that’s where you belonged. Not with mere trash like him.

-He pushed his luck keeping you as his best friend. To have you as his lover? His true source of hope in his life? C’mon Komeada....be realistic here. You were meant to be alone and die alone! Your luck cycle will always be a constant reminder of that!

-Perhaps....it wouldn’t hurt to try it? After all, where there is despair, there will be hope that will rise from it! The day when you and Nagito were suppose to try a new outdoor cafe but it rained? You offered to make your own coffee and pastries at your house! The day when you and Nagito took a walk in the park and you broke your leg because you didn’t see that sidewalk crack? Nagito was by your side through the whole doctor’s trip and he managed to cheer you up by buying you a lot of snacks from the vending machine

-Like.....when he placed only not even 200 yen into the vending machine, it glitched and gave him five baggies of chips instead of one

-Maybe his good luck would be on his side and you would accept his feelings! Then he could turn his fantasies into the reality. All you needed to do was say yes and he’d give you the world! You’d be his precious angel of hope, his darling love, his ultimate luck charm

-.......But that would just be too convenient. It would be too good to be true. Bad luck.....good luck.....which would one overpower the other and make it all worth it

-Obviously good luck! Hope conquers all after all! You weren’t a mere stepping stone like Nagito was. You were an ultimate after all! A pure symbol of hope! To him, you were a shining ray of hope, the angel that provided him light into his dark life. He wanted needed you more so than ever. It was now or never, Nagito. I can’t keep relying on my luck. Especially for something as important as this. This will all be determined by (Y/N)’s feelings. After all, they’re not that kind of person to never talk to their friend again after a love confession.....right?

-”Eh? Komeada-kun, are you okay?”

-Nagito was snapped out of his thoughts, as he turned to his best friend. The ultimate let out a sigh, gripping the backpack strap that was slinged across their shoulders even tighter. The ultimate (Y/T) knew that her best friend was known for being a bit...absorbed in his thoughts

-”Honestly Nagito, did you even listen to what I was saying?” The question slipped from a pair of soft lips, a hint of annoyance laced each word. The duo kept walking away from the school, back to Nagito’s home. Hangouts were usually at his house for obvious reasons. His parents were dead and he was basically all alone. It must get pretty boring with just himself in such a big house. He also had more money than an average person spends in their lifetime, so that was also a bonus

-Nagito almost found himself lost in thought yet again, smiling to himself. He would’ve been in tears if you agreed to move in with him after just a few months of dating. He knew that you two were still in high school, but just imagine how perfect it would be. He wouldn’t have to worry about being lonely, he wouldn’t have to worry about if you were safe and happy, he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. Just you and him--just the way he liked it

-The (H/C) student noticed Nagito’s small smiile, and cocked their brow. They snapped a pair of (S/C) fingers in his face, literally snapping him out of his personal trance for a second time

-”Nagito, what is up? You’ve been spacing off and mumbling to yourself for the past few weeks. Is...everything okay?” His best friend asked him, as Nagito pulled out his house key, sliding the metal into the lock. The turning of gears signaled that the large estate was unlocked, and with a gentle push of the double doors, both teenagers entered

-”Oh, I appreciate the concern, (Y/N), but it’s nothing to fuss over. I’ve....actually been deep in thought about...a certain someone lately,” The white haired male admitted, shutting the door behind him. (Y/N)’s furrowed brows became raised him shock and somewhat cheekiness. They never took Nagito for the type of fall in love. Not that he was cold or unemotional, but he never interacted with anyone besides them, Hajime, or somewhat, Chiaki. And he never showed any romantic interest in either of them. Who could he possible have on his mind?

-”Oh? Is that so?” The Ultimate (Y/T) curved a smirk upon their lips, as they walked closer to the skinny boy. With the thud of a second backpack joining Nagito’s onto the floor, (Y/N) took a seat on the leather couch, the playful smirk never leaving their adorable face “And, may I ask, who is this lucky someone that is on your mind?”

-”Well.....they....um....they’re really beautiful, dedicated and skilled at their talent, and even manages to outshine all the other ultimates. They’re truly optimistic, joyful, and a wonder to be around. I think I may love them more than hope itself,” He blushed, the small smile creeping back onto his face. (Y/N) chuckled lightly, crossing their legs along with their arms

-”Wow, they must really be something if you love them that much. Can I get a name along with that lovey-dovey description though?” (Y/N) tried to pry Nagito even deeper, impatient to know who stole their best friend’s heart. Who knows? Maybe they can even play matchmaker for the lovebirds!

-Nagito took this small window of time to form a small plan. It seemed simple enough and maybe some bad luck would be prevented if he took a more...passive approach into expressing his feelings. His small smile was replaced with his usual cheerful, bright one, as he dug through his just discarded backpack on the floor

-”Actually....I think it would be better if I wrote it down...” Nagito stated, producing a marble notebook and pencil in his hands. (Y/N) was about to say something, but Nagito seemed eager to write down the note to his friend. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch, scribbling on a random, clean page in the notebook. The ripping of the paper and folding of it signaled that he was done, as he handed the message to his best friend

-”Looks like you’re taking all the precautions you can, Nagito. But I promise you that it’s just us here,” (Y/N) chuckled and winked at him before taking the slip of paper from him. Nagito grinned joyously, both figuratively and physically on the edge of his seat. As the (H/C) haired student folded out the creases from the once pleated paper, the words bewildered them for a second

-Will you be my one and only hope, (Y/N)?

-With a turn of their head from the paper to Nagito’s blushing face, he grinned bashfully at them, hoping he didn’t ruin things between them. He was about to say something along the lines of “I know trash like me doesn’t deserve you...” but his open mouth was covered with an index finger being placed perpendicular towards it

-”Nagito, if you even think about calling yourself trash, I will hide all your bagels! And to answer your questions....I would love to be your hope,” The smirk that was on their face was softened into a compassionate smile. Nagito felt the weight being lifted from his chest as was about to hug (Y/N) out of relief and happiness, but thought for a split second that he was going to push it, tainting their beautiful skin with his garbage touch

-Well, not like he had much of a choice, as you pulled him into a hug, staying like that for a long time

-It was that day where Nagito felt his dark world being filled with the light of hope that was you. Slowly and slowly you helped him crawl out of his despairing world and showed him the hope that you had to offer. You gave him your love and so much more--something he was yearning for for his whole entire life. He had his own hope

-Nagito never wants to stop being with you. For the first time in in his life....

-He knows what love is

#nagito komaeda #nagito komeada kin #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa x y/n #nagito x reader #nagito headcanons #nagito oneshots #nagito x you #danganronpa nagito #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa oneshot

127 notes · View notes

cassidyisnowdrawing · 4 years

Text

He was going to kill Sun Wukong.

He was going to wrap his hands around his furry throat until he begged for Pigsy to stop, and then he was going to do it more. His eyebrow twitched in anger, he could feel the migraine starting to form behind his eyes as his temples pulsed.

He had just watched his kid twirl that damn stick around again. Clumsily, without the proper form or foresight to use it. A misaligned spin nearly sending the bowls resting on the counter flying, he quietly slide them back slightly as MK continued.

What was that stupid monkey thinking? Giving a kid, his kid, an all powerful weapon and what amounted to be superpowers. Telling him all he had to do was "believe", in himself before sending him to face an enemy three times his size and years of experience ahead of him. A teenager with no experience facing of the equivalent of a demigod.

It still makes bile rise in the back of his throat if he thinks too long about it.

"MK!" His kid snapped to look at him "Quit twirling that thing around in here, or so help me you'll be on dish duty for a month!" The kid froze mid-swing a look of terror passing over his face at the threat. Before a sheepish smile stretched across his face, " Sorry, Pigsy!"

"You better be, if I have to replace anymore bowls, it's coming outta your paycheck." The kid blanched slightly, drawing his staff close to his chest, "Wow, did you hear that I think I-heardMeicallingmegottagobye-!"

His kid was such a bad liar.

He tries not to let a fond smile pass over his face as MK trips over the door frame. Barely righting himself before taking off towards the direction of the arcade. A fondness settled in his chest for a moment, expression softening.

He never wanted kids.

He was always too prickly for kids. His anger used to rule him with an iron fist, his past littered with bad decisions and constant pain. Even as he began to settle down in his age and opened up the shop, finally doing something *useful* in his life, he knew he'd never *truly* have a family.

It changed the day he found MK.

He'll never forget it, every detail played back crystal clear in his mind. He'd finally managed to close up the shop, his back twinging in pain, the work never got easier especially when you started getting older. He hoped Tang at least attempted to clean up their shared apartment, the freeloader got enough free noodles to at least warrant some extra housework. He was about to lock the door when it happened.

He didn't even have time to prepare himself for the impact.

It had come from the side alley, a streak of yellow, white and red. A small body barreling straight into him, too lithe to actually do any real damage. He could the familiar anger simmer in his chest as he grunted in pain. He snatched the collar of his offender, easily lifting them and looking to the eyes of a- kid?

It was a kid, no older than sixteen.

He looked disheveled, clothes soaked through and dirty, hair scraggly and a touch greasy. Too skinny, far too skinny for a kid his age, but what punched the air out of his lungs was his eyes. Big eyebags underneath, brows pinched together, and a look of pure unadulterated fear seared on his features.

"Kid, what the hell-" hands gripped his arm where he still held the kid aloft. "Please," a raspy whisper escaped the kid, "Please, they won't stop chasing me andIcan'tloosethemandIdon'twanttodie-!" The kids hands shook, "Kid, kid slow down!" He set the kid down only for him to scramble back into his form.

"Please! Please--!" His voice cracked with desperation ,tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. He could feel his heart tug painfully at the sight. How much trouble was the kid in if he had to beg and plead with a random adult he'd physically ran into to step in?

Advancing footsteps sounded from the alleyway along with voices.

The kid flinched in turn ,form shrinking and eyes squeezing shut. Despite Tang's teasing ,Pigsy did in fact have a heart, so that really left him no other choice. Yanking the kid by his arm, he threw open the shop's door and hauled him in. "Sit there and do not move," he pried the death grip the kid had on him off.

The kid looked meek and afraid as he took in the place.

Pigsy simply rolled his eyes and pushed him down into the nearest chair. Peeling off his chef's uniform he set it on the kid's shoulders. "Keep an eye on that for me, and don't touch anything." The kid wrapped his hands around the fabric and watched as Pigsy headed back outside.

Tang wasn't happy when Pigsy called him to come down to the shop so late. He was even less happy when he saw that Pigsy was bloody ,bruised and apperently missing a tooth. He got over it when he saw the kid trying to seemingly hide behind him.

He'd won and he'd do it agian.

It all spiralled from there, Pigsy and Tang learned MK was hard to keep track of and even harder to actually find, despite their best attempts. Sometimes, he'd pop up at the noodle shop to say 'hi' or loiter outside their apartment when it rained. It had taken months of hard work and trust to get the kid to stay for more than a night in their tiny apartment.

Tang absolutely adored the kid, in his own weird-nerdy way and Pigsy had a soft-spot for the little trouble maker. It hurt to see such a bright smile dampered by hunger and fatigue. He and Tang tried to help the kid multiple times, but he was stubborn and didn't listen. Resolute to not take advantage of their kindness, despite repeated times telling him that was not the case.

Tang was the one who told him to hire MK.

"If he feels like he's pulling his own weight, he won't run. We can even put him in the room above the shop." Pigsy could see the reasoning, a way to inadvertently help and keep MK close. MK had cried happy tears when Pigsy told him he'd be able to live upstairs if he accepted the job, Pigsy simply patted his shoulder awkwardly. Tang helped him with his resume and Pigsy rearranged upstairs.

Three years MK had been in his and Tang's lives.

So he thinks he's a little justified in his anger. He thought he'd watch his kid die for God's sake! The nightmares plagued him on a constant replay of that moment-over and over and over agian. The flames swallowing his kid as he hauled away the other, because MK would never forgive him if he let Mei throw herself after him.

His nightmares that only doubled when the kid let slip that he had his "mentor" lock away the only thing protecting him from harm.

So, no, he wasn't really Monkey King's biggest fan and he was certainly tempted to deck him when the opportunity presented itself. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Pigsy released a sigh, tension radiating off his body in waves. He rolled up his sleeves and set himself back to work.

One day, one day him and Sun Wukong were going to have words.

#monkie kid #writing #im not a writer #so please be nice :))#oh Im back btw!!!

246 notes · View notes

lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH.4

WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging.

////////

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.

“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?

After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.

Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.

The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.

Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.

Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.

Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.

But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.

A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.

Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.

Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.

Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.

Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.

Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.

Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.

You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.

Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.

“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and being treated like a daytime regular.

Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.

“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.

“Just the pancakes?”

“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.

Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.

It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.

Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check, then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.

What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.

“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?

“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.

Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.

“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.

You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.

She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet, handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.

You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.

Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.

It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.

“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?

Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?

“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.

“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.

It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.

“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.

Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.

You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.

“..re.....have..attack......”

“could be o...me..”

“.....pressure...”

Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?

Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor. You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.

“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.

It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”

“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.

“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.

You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.

Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.

His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.

You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.

“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?

“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.

“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.

“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.

“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.

“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.

“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.

You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.

You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.

It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.

Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.

#ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #reader insert #readerinsert #creepypasta fanfic #masky #masky x hoodie #masky x reader #hoodie #hoodie x reader #timothy wright #timothy wright x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #A cure for insomnia

28 notes · View notes