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styxwanderer · 1 month

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The Wrong Fake Identity | Twisted Wonderland |

[you turn into a cat beastman because of crowley being an ass]

<Part 1> Part 2 part 3 Part4 part 5 part 6

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*

"Due to the covered overblot incidents occurring in Night Raven College, the government of each island is requesting an inspecting, but you as somebody that originated from none of these islands are unrecorded by the government. Grim is fine because he can be disguise as a familiar but you, oh, what ever shall we do." Crowley spoke, hand on his check as if he was the most miserable person in the world. The person standing infront of him, the most respected and admired student from NRC. Managing to capture hearts and admiration since the incidents with the overblots stand still.

"When will this be?"

"Tomorow morning."

The enthusiastic tone contras to the alerting news. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner you OLD CROWW!' you screeched in your head. you had been called to headmaster office as he give his revelation. You wished Grim is here with you and blasting the old crow with whatever insult that come to his mind, but he chooses to bail on you, opting to wait on the now cozy ramshackle dorm you both share.

A bit of panic did manage to etch to your mind because you don't want any of them to take you away from your friends. "What do you propose?"

"Simple, you will be locked away hidden in the cottage island you found near that ca-"

" Fuck no."

" -or you accept this envelope I had gracefully taken time to buy with my own money and try your best to act accordingly. Oh, how good of a person am I."

" Why do you even suggest the first, when you'd had gotten me a fake id?" his shenanigans starting to irk you. you could even feel a vein popping out.

" For the drama of course. then after this go to sam to get your photo taken for the id"

you sigh as you opened the envelope containing your passport and id.

" Headmage.."

"yes?"

" What the fuck is thisss?" you point of the id specifically on the species where a bold letter is etched on it.

"beastman?"

"Ah did i get the wrong one? oo.. oohohoo, my bad.. but it's too late for a chance now. Oh, look at the time, it has gotten so late! you better get to Sam now before he closes his shop. The inspection is tomorrow so good luck!" he pushed you out of his office and slam his door on your face.

' THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THIS BITCH ! ILL PICK YOUR FEATHERS TILL YOU GO BALD OLD Crow' you grumbled as you begrudgingly make your way to Sam.

Save to say, at the end of the day you left Sam anticipating the next day chaos and you are left with the illegally obtained transforming potion and a complete id and passport. Grim is laughing nonstop at the revelation enjoying whatever torture that will come to you the day after.

Crowley had been cursed at least a hundred times in your head. you drank the potion to change you into a beastman as you fall asleep.

" i wonder what beastman you will become." Grim said as you both nuzzled up to sleep.

The morning come sooner than you wished, the lights blinding you awake.

"God dammit when did the sun get shinier"

you went to scratch your ears only to find it gone. This had made you jolt awake, bolting to the giant mirror you go, accidentally waking Grim in process.

"UWAAA!! what's the rush y/n?" Grim sleepily asked.

The mirror reflects your new figure, and you could only be one thing, and that is MORTIFIED.

you screeched in distress.

" WAAA!! what's your damage dude." Grim spoke now fully awake as he went to approach you who are crouching holding your new ears.

" i... I had become..."

" NYAHAHAHAHAHA!!! out of all beasts you have to become a cat! i can't wait till Ace and Deuce sees this!!!" His loud laugher filled the room. You don’t even know there is such thing as a cat beastman. You had thought all beastman is the undomesticated version of every animal, yet here you are in a tip pointed ears of not a wolf, not a lion but a GOD DAMN CAT. Your tail swishing in distress.

"Just you wait Grim, once you have a misfortune, I'll laugh it up your face!!" your retort went on deaf ears as he kept laughing

Poor you can only power through the embarrassment, not at all excited to meeting any of your friends. 'They're gonna have a fieldtrip about all of thisss' you cried.

a brilliant idea come to mind, you decided to just go class with a hat and tuck your tail hiding it under your jacket. wishing the day had not start but ended.

from your understanding back in your world, you know how many sickfucks is there obsessing over cat girls/boys. you hope today is different. please lord.

<*>

the bell has rung signing students to enter the classrooms, that includes you in a hat and jacket to hide the transformation. Ace and deuce spotted you as you entered the class.

" Yo! y/n! what's with the hat and jacket?" Ace greeted you as you went to your usual seat.

" aren't you hot in all of that layer?" deuce followed

" Listen, Y/n got --"

in a speed of light, you quickly grab his muzzle shutting whatever information u rather not share with this mischievous creature.

" If you don't shut up, I won't buy you the premium tuna can anymore!" you huffed.

"no fairrr!!" Grim whined

the conversation was cut short as crewel entered the building

“Right, pups, get to your seat. Today we will have an inspection authorized by the governments since there is several overblots that occurred in this past month.”

“What? Why did they just tell us now?” Ace questioned

The whole class was shocked by the revelation.

“quite pups, as your homeroom teacher I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Now –“ crewel stopped in his track as he stared at your soul.

‘Professor Crewel, please let go of my uniform misconduct, just this time.”

“y/n I believe the headmage had given you solution for this inspection, you would not need the whatever disguise you are wearing.”

“ uhm.. no this is not a disguise actually--”

“As I mentioned, there would be a inspection so I cannot oversee your uniform misconduct. Now take it of.”

You were sweating bullets. ‘FUCK!’ your head is ringing with alarm. You don’t know what to do so you just sat still. Crewel started to approach you.

“oi, what’s the big deal y/n c’mon he is getting mad!” Ace said

“They might have an allergy reaction to their head! Deuce chimed.

‘ thanks, but not helping deuce!!’ you mentally shriek as crewel is now standing Infront of you.

“ now stop with this tom-foolery, I expected better from you.” He reached for your hat.

��AH! Wait-”

Crewel had yanked the hat off showcasing your cat ear.

The silence before the collective gasp makes you want to curl up in your blanket.

“PUWHAHAHAHHAH!!! You can’t even be a legit legit beastman !! ” Ace laughter break the silence as you flush in both anger and embarrassment.

“ Pfftt, Domisticated beastman..” deuce joined in.

“ SHUT UP!!”

Crewel cleared his throat gaining an abrupt silence from the Adeuce duo, tapping his whipping stick repeatedly.

“explain..”

“ Headmage, Crowley-“

“ haaaaaa, show me the id and passport.”

You quickly took them out of your bag and place them on your desk as he inspect both of them.

“HAAAAA… unfortunately I still cannot allow you in that atrocious get up, so remove your jacket and hat” he signed loudly again, engraving in his mind to kill the old crow, after all you are always his favourite students, how could that crow torture you so relentlessly. Maybe if he get to give you the adoption paper this crow wouldn’t dare to mess with you anymore?

You sigh, relenting to your fate. Any speck of pride you have over yourself vanished. As you let your tail swish free.

Ace is trying hard not to laugh over your embarrassed red faced. But honestly both are just captivated by your new look. The way your ears twitch and your red face, the way your new feature give you a docile look. Both ace and deuce suddenly find their textbook or the corner of the room fascinating as their face are getting darker.

These reactions are of course not limited to ace and deuce but to the other students as well. Crewel watch in disdain as his precious ( soon to be) children is getting flaunted by these beasts. He mentally take note to keep you safe from there unruly teens, but priority. His number one priority now is to get Crowley in his chokehold.

<*>

“RINGGGG!!”

The bell signing for lunch ended the class, causing you another brain aneurism, because now you have to go to the packed cafeteria, with guaranteed display to everybody attending NRC.‘FUCK FUCK FUCK’

“c’mon prefect lets go get lunch!” deuce said

“I’m so hungry!! Lets go hurry before they ran out of the good stuff!”

“Easy for you to say! You don’t have a cat tail or ears…” you suck holding grim as you hesitated to walk out of the classroom.

“how bout this! I can hide you with my body!” Deuce said enthusiastically

“haaaaa, alright.. thanks” you went to cling to his back as you let grim down opting to squeeze the article on his back, using your meat shield to your fullest potential.

Deuce face burn bright with how close you are to him, ‘this is like a hug from the back!’ he squeal internally.

“r-right! Just stay close to me!” if he was given the opportunity then why not use it. He will definitely treasure this moment till the day that he passes.

“H-Hey! I can be your shield too you know!.”

“Deuce beat you to it, pal.” Grim jeered

You peek from your meat shield giving Ace a tongue out as you went back to hiding. What can a guy do when your insult is also cute. He can’t but just try to save his pride as he hides it with his teasing, just like a kindergartener.

The four of you arrives at the cafeteria as a realisation dawn on you. You needed more meat shield.

You dragged ace to line with deuce as you slid you press yourself against the wall creating and effective human wall, Ace didn’t mind being a flesh wall he just hoped he is facing you instead of the other way around.

It all went swimmingly the four of you were spotted by your other friends.

“ what the hell are you up to?” Epel asked still unaware that you are clinging to their back hiding behind them.

“Oh us? We are just here to get some lunch right? Deuce?”

“o-Oh yeahh righttt! We are hiding anything at all.”

Ace hit deuce foot as he grumbles at his idiocy and deuce to panicked to retort.

“yeahhh.. right” Epel narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“seriously guys today is the inspection day at least behave yourself while these governments representative are observing us.” Jack huff, crossing his arms disapprovingly.

“seriously! We aren’t ,making any trouble promise!” Ace the pro mischief maker he is, retorded without fail

“I double that” deuce half-shouted.

“ohh? The why did your heart rate is higher than normal?” the humanoid,Ortho joined in ganging up on acedeuce duo,

“CEASE THIS NONESENSE IMMIDEATLY, HUMANS”

“eep!” Sebek’s loud voice seems to ring harder on your ears making you let out an involuntary sound.

“ Not so loud crocodile boyy, my ears are ringing.” Grim grumbled as he hold his ears.

“ I feel you now Grim.” You mentally said.

“ AH what is that!” epel accused as he slip past the human wall you created and be greeted with you.

“no wait!” Deuce tries to save but he was too late.

You in cat ears and tail.

Your ears continuously twitching.

You have tail.

“uh hi? Epel?”

Epel wondered if the mushroom in his plate is the right kind of mushroom or is he about to die and be greeted by one final sight of you.

Is this bliss?

IS this heaven…?

“ oi.. Epel? Whats the problem?”

The other three curious of what Epel was seeing push through.

And there you are as a beastman. A cat beastman.

Jack howl.exe has stopped working

Sebek zigvolt.exe stopped working

Ortho.exe has taken rapid shot

He is making sure his brother gets to see you like this as well. The picture is auto sent to Idia’s device.

Jack’s fluffy white tail began frantically wagging

Sebek the loudest of the loud manage to be the quietest.

The three of them felt blood rushed up their heads, while Deuce and Ace share a sense of ‘i get you.’ Vibe to the other four.

In collective silence the four of them created a bigger human wall shield continuing adeuce duo’s wall.

“the wall keeps getting bigger and bigger! Yeahh! This will tell people that the great Grim is passing through!! “ Grim shouts.

You would laugh at his antics but now just not the time.

You pick grim up as to cover yourself with him as well, using his body to cover as much face as you can while u hunched trying to be invincible.

Of course this meant letting go of ace and deuce much to their disappointment.

The sixth of them wish they were born as some werebeast so easily carried by you and

“We need explanation but for now let’s get some food.”

With the group all agreeing to stay in formation you went. To get the food in line.

You had manage to make grim cover your ear while u get food for him and you, you of course give him extra chicken for all the hard work.

Everything was going swell, or so you thought.

“BOOO!”

In a speed that u had never achieved before you jump very high up into a table in an offense position hissing. Only then you had realized you fucked up.

Grim had fallen off your head showing full out your new cat ears and tail.

‘Oh great sevens.’ You wanted to mentally bash yourself because what the fuck is that reflex.

The old bat had froze in his track as his eyes widened at your new form. He found your new form rather endearing, plus what kind of reaction can you show now?

The whole cafeteria had gone silent so have your before jack covered you up with his jacket and scooped you up off the table and ran. All the other first year in tow.

“ MIND YA OWN BUSINESS, There is nothing to see here!” You could hear Epel shouted.

“Run run run!” Ortho speed hover.

“I WILL STUN YOU IF YOU FOLLOW US HUMANS!” Sebek shouted.

You could hear vil shouting to Epel for him to stop and order to Rook who is still in a paralyzed mode.

You could hear Riddle threatening Ace and Deuce to stop or not he would cut off their heads which only make them ran faster. Trey and carter trying to calm their dorm leader while also thinking of a plan to steal u away.

Floyd was whining about how they are taking the little shrimp-cat away from him to jade.

Azul still stuck in his trance.

Kamil shouting for you to come back,

jamil silently planning murder to get u back.

Leona chuckling saying something about a hunt to ruggie who is also chuckling in amusement.

Silver shocked with how sebek is involved, but then again you are involved so he should’ve expected it and also your new form. Malleus also is laughing, amused.

Truth be told the first year gang had scoop you up not only to save you but also to fulfill their desire, your new form that had enhance your cuteness should only be for them and theirs only. They found you first! Not those second or third year! You belonged to them! You are one of us! They do not want any body to see you like this. They don’t deserve it.

Although Sebek won’t mind sharing this sight with Malleus he thinks no body deserves to see you like this especially with their lust filled eyes.

Lilia chuckle as he snapped out of his trance.

“Kufufufu, it seems the kitten has been kidnapped by a big bad rebellion.. it’s time to teach them to know their place isn’t.”

“ father.. what are you planning?”

“Truly a wise word, Lilia. Whatever shall we do to teach these rebellious kids to never steal from a dragon.”

“You mean a lion?” Leona now annoyed with the declaration.

“ you and them? Ha you are most incompatible with them.”

“Are you sure about that? She is a beastman now, and most beastman are in the reigh of sunset savanna, ultimately my kingdom. Plus i am the original of their beastkin, she would be most compatible with me.”

“She could live in luxury in briar valley as the wife of a king instead of just some lousy king.”

“Ha what is that?”

“Or a general wife you kno.”

“Not you too Lilia!.”

“Excuse me! I know them more and better than any or you!” Riddle now involved in the conversation.

“ oh my, i can’t even imagine the fate they will have if you get to her.”

“Ha what do you mean by that?”

“What i meant is simply, your “rules” is definitely going to be atrocious to follow. If she were with me she would live happily in riches.”

“And wet underwater? Oh how bad that would be for her poor skin. She would much rather go with me draped in fame and gold.”

“ as if! She would rather be with me!”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Fine let’s settle it like a sensible being. The one who manage to capture her first would have the right to be with her.” The lion declared.

“Such a wise statement coming from you, Rook prepare yourself.”

“Ouii, a game of hunt! I agree.” Standing tall beside the fair king, he readied himself.

“This whole thing is dumb, of course they would choose me, but for the sake of your dignity i will participate this game. Besides i have to collar a few underclassmen of mine” The red hair boy stands.

“Oo sounds fun, Jade, Floyd we will have a change if schedule, it seems to be perfect day for hunting.”

“Yes, Azul.”

“Yes,Azul~”

“As if you all could beat me the crown prince of briar woods himself.”

With the whole dorm agreeing to play the game of hunt, they set the hunt to begin after school finished (curtesy of Riddle), lets just say you might want to wish that your group got a memo of this and tries to save you from them and not take you for themselves of course .

Meanwhile-

“Of course they wouldn’t choose me.”

“But… if i can catch them then they will have no other choose, hahaha.” The flamey blue haired guy spoke

[3251 word]

>>To be Continued<<

.·:*¨༺ ❈ ༻¨*:·.

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transastronautistic · 3 years

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queer / otherwise diverse horror story recs

i’ve been reading (& watching) a lot of horror stories this spooky season, and i’ve found some great novels, many of them queer 🏳️‍🌈. i figured i’d share them in case anyone else wants to tuck into a good book as halloween approaches!

If you wanna add your own horror novel/short story recs to the list please do — especially if they've got queer or disabled characters 😎

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir.

[id for below image: cover of Gideon the Ninth featuring a slim figure dressed all in black with her face painted to look like a skull under red hair; she holds a sword in one hand and strides forward from a sea of skeletons. A quote from Charles Stross reads, “Lesbian Necromancers explore a haunted gothic palace in space!” To the right is a photo of the author, a young person with pale skin and long red hair.]

~Suspenseful. Gory. Clever.~ 🏳️‍🌈 (sapphic) 479 pp.

It's weird as shit in the BEST way. It turns into a murder mystery partway through & my wife & i could barely put it down till we finished.

My main critique is that the cover art shows Gideon with an hourglass figure — the book makes it clear she's BULKED!! she's built like a brick shithouse!! also she's gay af, unapologetically messy, rebellious, funny — everything you could ask for in a protagonist.

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily Danforth.

[id: cover of Plain Bad Heroines with a small black-and-white photo of the author beside it. The cover is black with red illustrations of wasps and flowers around the title.]

~Multilayered. Melancholy. Haunting.~ 🏳️‍🌈 (sapphic polyamory!) 640pp.

One horrific event ricochets out across generations, leaving death & danger (& bees?!) in its wake. We move from an early 1900s girls' school to 21-century Hollywood and back.

Parts of Plain Bad Heroines are funny, other parts are SCARY AS FUCK. There are sucker-punching plot twists galore, and the characters are all so. good. There’s a ridiculous number of characters but Danforth manages to dig into the psyche of each one. You end up loving and hating them and rooting for them and feeling like part of their story and ahh! it’s just so good.

i read it as an audiobook & it's one of the best i've ever heard — Xe Sands' narration makes this eerie tale even eerier.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon.

[id: cover of An Unkindness of Ghosts, featuring a determined looking face staring out from a mostly-blue stretch of outer space. To the right is a black-and-white photo of the author, a Black person with glasses and hair pulled up high.]

~Suspenseful. Dystopian. Visceral~

🏳️‍🌈⚧️ (nonbinary & intersex; autistic & other neurodiversity) 340pp.

This novel is basically chattel slavery in space; be ready for all that entails (including sexual violence—not graphic, but frequent). Seriously, it’s intense.

It’s also not exactly of the horror genre, but the horrors of slavery and racism, sexism, ableism as viscerally depicted in this book are scarier than any “real” ghosts.

An Unkindness of Ghosts' protagonist offers the best look into an autistic mind that I've seen in a novel. Her medical skill grants her access to parts of this massive spaceship that most of her race can't go, and her sharp mind is instrumental as revolution brews...

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones.

[id: Cover for The Only Good Indians, on which an elk’s antlers and the top half of their head fills the black cover. To the right is a photo of the author wearing all black and standing in front of a faded green wall.]

~Vengeful. Unsettling. Grotesque.~

Blackfeet characters. 320 pp.

A sense of unbearable foreboding built up in me as i read this one. Jones explores the consequences of breaking with tradition and violating nature. Exploration of the relationships between men & woman, adults & children, Blackfeet & white persons, are really interesting.

CW: gory deaths, both human & animal.

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice.

[id: Cover of Moon of the Crusted snow, which shows a grayish white sky above an expanse of snow, in the middle of which is a partially submerged car. To the right is a photo of the author standing outside, who has shoulder length hair and wears a light blazer.]

~Post-apocalyptic. Darkly Soft. Poetic.~

Anishinaabe characters. 224 pp.

As a small Anishinaabe community in northern Canada prepares for winter, the electricity and

Something about how this book is written reminds me of how snow & bitter cold muffle sound. The horror is slow but crushing.

Empire of Wild by Cherie Dimaline.

[id: a photo of the author of Empire of Wild, a woman with long dark hair, glasses, a large circular earring, and a tattoo of curling blue text partially visible under her v-neck shirt. The book’s cover is to the right, with the title appearing between the thin trunks of a forest of trees, a dark sky behind them. A quote from Margaret Atwood read, “Deftly written, gripping and informative. Empire of Wild is a rip-roaring read!”]

~Suspenseful. Sensuous. Tenacious.~

Métis characters. 320 pp.

The various relationships between characters feel real and alive as Joan rallies support from loved ones and sets out to save her missing husband or die trying. My favorite is the relationship between Joan and her 12-year-old nephew Zeus — you know how some authors just don’t know how to write kids? well, Dimaline does — Zeus is the perfect mix of moody and earnest, capable and naive.

This is a monster story, and while the Monster (a rogarou!) is as creepy as you want in such a tale, the real monster is colonialism & colonizers' brand of Christianity. Comparisons between that insidious religion and the beliefs & practices that carry Joan and her older relatives through their various struggles is what will stick with me most from this book.

#book recs #horror #horror novels #queer novels #lgbt novels #books #averygaypost #twitter didn't care about this thread so i figured i'd post it here lol

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darthkruge · 3 years

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Hi! I've seen that in your recent post you've been trying to make characters more gender neutral which I think is awesome! I'm gonna try and make my request gender neutral as well! I was wondering if you could do a criminal minds imagine (I'll let you choose the character that you wanna write it for cus I love Morgan, Hotch, and Reid equally) where the reader was taken by the unsub but they found her right before the unsub tried to (tw) k!ll the reader. If possible can the end be kinda fluffy♡

Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Maybe

Summary: The classic kidnapping fic where the reader is taken by the unsub and Spencer finds them. Fluffy, comfort-filled ending <3

Warnings: Angst, language, violence, blood, guns, knives, torture, near-death experience, kidnapping in general, (happy ending I promise)

Words: 2.2k

A/N: Hey!! I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me for taking so long to get to this!! And thank you for making your request gender neutral, too! That’s so thoughtful and sweet! And I decided to go with Spencer, although I also love them all. And yes the end will definitely be fluffy, as the angst with a happy/fluffy ending is basically my brand at this part. Thank you for requesting and, again, I’m so sorry for making you wait, I hope you like this!

You woke up and could only register pain. Well, pain and cold. Mind numbing, cuts to your bones, pierces your brain, cold. You tried to look around and get a sense of your surroundings but it was so dark; you could barely make out the shadows in the room, let alone any defining details.

Judging by the old, dirty smell, you guessed you were in a barn or shed somewhere. You had no idea where; the asshole must have knocked you out. You’d been working the case for weeks. The team thought they found some DNA and were tailing the guy, but it didn’t pan out and, since then, the trail had basically been cold. But then you finally figured out what number to trace, cracked his encoded router, and got a license plate and ID. George Craig. On your way to tell the team, he had messed with your car and was able to jump you. Fuck, you hated him.

Even so, you refused to give up. You had faith in your team and, most of all, you had faith in Spencer. Your brilliant, gorgeous boyfriend. You loved him more than anything and there was no one in the world you’d want on the case more than him. You knew the team was already looking for you, as it was only 10am when he got you and it was probably at least 7pm now, judging by the temperature and darkness.

You tried to move your arms but your shoulders screamed in protest. You felt the chains around your legs and the handcuffs binding you to a pole above you. Judging from the pain, your shoulder was almost definitely dislocated. You were sitting at an awkward angle and could already feel your joints tightening. The frigid air definitely wasn’t helping, making your muscles contract and body stiff.

“Hello, Agent L/N”

Your entire body stilled at that moment, sheer panic running through your veins. Stay calm, Y/N, stay calm. You tried to will air into your lungs, forcing deep breaths even though the terror was screaming at you to close up. You knew this man fed on fear and, thus, your best chance of survival was to pretend you were unphased. Even so, the logic felt severely discomforting with him standing above you, knife and gun in hand.

“George. What the fuck do you want from me?” Your voice was venomous, the pure hate for him clearly pictured on your face. You decided that if an emotion was going to show, you preferred hate to fear.

“My, my, my, look at you! I thought you were supposed to be smart. Or is that trait left for your boyfriend. Agent Reid, was it?”

Your blood ran cold. “Leave him out of this.”

“Ohhh, looks like I’ve hit a nerve, haven’t I?” The man had a horrifying smirk on his face, clearly enjoying your struggle.

You glared at him. “You never answered my question”

“Oh, yes!” George chuckled, “What the fuck do you want from me?” He said, mimicking your voice mockingly. “To kill you, of course. To take you away from Spencer, from the team. To make them feel the pain of losing someone, just like I lost-”

He trailed off and you saw his eyes burn with anger. And under that anger, you knew there was pain. Even so, you couldn’t feel bad for this man, regardless of who he’d lost. You knew that at the slightest hint of your empathy, he’d take advantage of it and kill you on the spot.

“You know what? Death would be too easy for you. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to put you out of your misery. Then, and only then, will I shoot you. I will watch the blood run out of the bullet hole and smile, knowing the pain I caused you and your precious team.”

You wanted to cry, the fear pulling at you. Once again, you pushed it down and channeled your rage. Rage because you were in this situation. Rage because this man had ended so many lives. Rage because you were powerless right now. Rage because holy fuck your shoulder hurt. Gathering the fury, you spat at him.

George’s mouth twisted into a sneer as he brought his leg up and slammed it into your chest. You heaved, the wind knocked out of you. Before you could grasp the air you so desperately needed, George kicked you again. And again. And again. You could feel the bruises forming, your ribs throbbing painfully.

He pulled his fist up and pummeled it into your cheek. Your left cheekbone busted open on impact and your lip split as he backhanded the other side of your face. He slammed the butt of his gun into your temple and your vision swayed, body crumpling as far in on itself as it could, given the restraints.

He kicked at your legs repeatedly, both of them twisting at painful angles. You felt yourself start to black out, the pain unbearable. Every inch of your skin was ablaze, every muscle felt like it had been sledgehammered. Your bones ached, your body numb from his onslaught, the freezing cold, and the restrictive bonds you’d been in for hours.

Finally, he took a moment to stop. He looked at you, at your barely conscious and recognizable state. You were beaten to a pulp, your face and body bloodied and broken. You could feel yourself wanting to give in but forced yourself to stay. For yourself, for Spencer, for the team. For that future you always talked about with him. For the house you were saving for, for the dogs and cats and animals you might one day get. For the family you might decide to have. For the idea of peace, you fought.

George picked up the gun and pointed it at your head. A shot rang free and you braced yourself, a single tear running down your cheek as you realized you would never see your love again. Your ears rang and you felt like time had slowed. You knew the bullet would hit you. Until-

“Y/N, Y/N!” Your name was being called, the gentle yet panicked voice cutting through the ringing in your head. You tentatively opened your eyes and saw George’s body on the floor, blood oozing out of him. You slowly moved your eyes around, trying to take in your surroundings.

Everything was overwhelming. Nothing was registering properly in your brain. It was just sounds filtering in an out, vision flickering. You felt like you were floating through the ringing in your ears. Tears ran down your cheeks as you shook. You didn’t know why you were shaking. The cold. The shock, you reasoned. Both seemed likely. It was like there was an overwhelming sense of calm. Your body was shutting down. Somehow, this gave you understanding.

You felt the handcuffs around your wrists release and your arms dropped limply. You knew you should feel pain from your dislocated shoulder but, instead, you just let your eyes closed and felt your body fall. The last thing you remembered was coming into contact with a Kevlar vest, messy brown hair, and a familiar sense of warmth.

When you awoke, you felt yourself being gently jostled. Your eyes slowly opened and you took in him. Spencer was looking at you, concern evident on his features.

“Hi.” You said, voice hoarse.

“Hi, angel. Let’s get you inside, alright?”

You nodded, allowing him to help support your weight as you stepped out of the car. You leaned heavily into him, your legs badly injured. Spencer wrapped his arm snug around your waist as the two of you slowly but surely made it into your shared apartment.

He helped you sit on the couch before moving to join you.

“I’m surprised they let you take me home. I thought I’d wake up in a hospital, for sure.”

“They did take you there, love. You were at the hospital for a few hours but you were in and out of consciousness. You’ll heal, don’t worry. A few broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, severe bruising, sprains on your legs and ankles.”

“Plus a busted face” You add drily.

Spencer wasn’t amused by your attempt at sarcasm. Instead, he just pushed your hair behind your ear and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have gotten there sooner, I should have been with you! If I was there, if I was quicker-”

“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself for this! No one could have known. Besides, you saved me. And I’m not just talking about that in the literal sense. When he was beating me, when I was broken down, I thought of you. I thought of our future, our dream. Holding onto that is the only reason I didn’t give up.”

Spencer’s eyes were filled with tears as he went to gently cup your face. He couldn’t find the words to express the love and relief he felt. “I’m just glad you’re back in my arms”

You moved to hug him but winced. Even though the doctors had patched you up pretty well, the soreness and pain lingered and probably would continue like that for at least the next couple of days.

“Hey, it’s alright. Let’s go to bed. I think you’ll feel better once you lay down, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You followed him into the room, holding his hand the entire time. Spencer noticed but didn’t mind, he knew you were just looking for comfort, exceedingly normal for what you’d just gone through.

You laid down, settling against the pillows and fluffy blankets Spencer had prepared for you.

“Do you need anything, baby?”

“Water?”

“Of course.” He smiled at you before moving to get up but you quickly grabbed his hand, panic overtaking you at the thought of being alone. You looked at him helplessly, hoping your gaze would convey the words that died on your tongue.

Spencer nodded knowingly. He helped you out of bed, pulling you along with him as the two of you went to the kitchen. He wordlessly got you the drink, making sure to keep touching you the entire way. Finally, you made it back and the both of you crawled into bed. You laid on your uninjured shoulder, placing your cheek on Spencer’s chest. His arm came around you, holding you to him and drawing soothing circles into your skin.

You closed your eyes and were immediately sent back to the shed. You tensed, pulling back. Spencer caught on and looked deeply into your eyes. “You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t get to you anymore.”

“I know. Rationally, I know. But my brain won’t shut off. It’s like, whenever I’m not actively thinking about something else or looking at something else or hearing something else, it just comes back. Spence, I can’t- I can’t sleep. I just, I’m sure it’ll come back to me tonight.” Your voice broke, tears spilling onto your cheeks. “I don’t think I can handle reliving it and I’m so fucking exhausted. But I can’t rest because I can’t escape the nightmares.”

Spencer wanted so badly to comfort you but didn’t know what he could do. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take the pain away. He wished he could put the trauma onto himself but, unfortunately, he was powerless. Thus, he offered understanding. He gave validation. He gave kindness and pure, nonjudgmental love.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m here for you and I know that doesn’t do much right now but I am. I’ll be here when the nightmares come and I’ll be here when the flashbacks try and drag you under. I’ll be here when the trauma starts to fade but suddenly reappears and I’ll be here 20 years from now, when the memory will still be real and painful but not all-consuming. I’ll be here forever, I’ll be here always. Please, tell me what to do to help you.” Spencer begged, hoping beyond all hope that there was something he could do to ease your suffering.

“Read to me?”

“Wha- what?”

“Read to me.” You repeated, more assured this time. “I’m thinking that if I can hear your voice, maybe it’ll drown out my brain. Or something. I don’t know. I just want to hear your voice, it’s soothing. Please?”

Spencer was taken aback. He didn’t think something so simple could help you. He didn’t know his sheer presence brought you that much serenity. “Yeah, of course. Of course! Yeah, any preference?”

“Not really. Whatever’s here?”

“Okay, love.” Spencer picked up his current read and began in the middle. You felt the rumble of his chest, the vibrations of his voice and felt more at ease. The anxiety was still there, the panic never far away. And yet, curled into him, his breath tickling your ear, his body warming yours, it suddenly felt alright. Like maybe you hadn’t gone through some life-altering trauma. Or maybe you had but your life wasn’t over because of it. Maybe you’d heal. Maybe, if you could find a moment of peace now, you’d find more later. Maybe? Yeah, You thought. You could work with maybe.

i just made a taglist so if you want to join, go ahead!

tags:

@saltybreaddream

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #megan writes

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years

Text

i’ll drive ; august walker x fem!reader 2/3

status — completed series

word count — 5,933 words

warnings — SMUT, unprotected penetrative sex, soft!august, confused!august

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n — so i had driving lessons last september and thought abt how wow it would make a great story if a driving instructor fell for their student,, and the og idea had in mind was that for a dark fic i might still do one though idk but i never really knew which character to do it for. then i was like what if he was pretending to be a driving instructor and since i just watched mi fallout sometime last month thought id be perfect for august!! sorry i couldn’t publish this any faster, had some things going on offline so yeah lmk what you think of this chapter. there’s only one chapter left! Y/F/N = your father’s name

masterlist | series masterlist

“You want me to do what?” August scoffed as he read the mission file he was handed. Sloane raised a hand to the other agent who was about to explain it again; she knew that the Hammer would more likely accept the mission if she convinced him.

“We want you to pose as a driving instructor; from there you’ll be assigned to Y/N. Her father is Nick Roberts; do you recall who he is?” Nodding, August placed the folder on the desk and looked at Sloane with a scowl, “Yeah, I do. He transports Perez’ drugs and firearms in and out of the country; possibly close ties to even more underground activity.”

“Suspected of transporting,” The other agent — August didn't bother remembering his name since he rarely got to work with him anyway — clarified. “And how will me posing as a driving instructor get us to Nick Roberts?”

“Nick Roberts is just an alias; his real name is Y/F/N, and the one you’ll be assigned in teaching is his daughter. You get close to her, you’ll be able to get to Roberts.” It seemed like too big of a stretch, August quietly reflected; what if she cut ties with her father? What if he really wasn’t her father?

“Considering this is the only lead we have so far on Perez’ case, I’ll do it,” He eventually conceded; Sloane was pleased with that as she smiled, “Very well, take that case file with you to familiarize yourself with Y/N. Your lessons with her will be from Monday to Friday, the whole of next week. Understood?”

With a nod, he grabbed the case file and stood up to exit the room. Heading to his office, he figured that it was best to find out what he can about this Y/N. He read about how she had graduated college and has been steadily working in her chosen profession. Since the separation of her parents she lived with her dad, and by the looks of it has a close bond with him. It was amusing to him how someone of her age still doesn’t know how to drive; but nevertheless it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t since it helped with their case.

Though her case file had her passport and driving permit photo, August made a reckless decision to look up if she had any social media accounts; and she did. It wasn’t usual for him to look up their target’s social media accounts — in the past he would settle for the provided picture on the mission reports and from there familiarize himself with what they looked like — but there was an itch he needed to scratch. There was something about Y/N that motivated him to look at her photos, thankfully her account was on public. “Can’t wait to see you soon, love.”

Henry James was his alias for this mission and here he was leaning against the parked car as he was waiting for Y/N. He held his breath once the door opened and revealed a girl in a romper. “Hi! Are you Henry?” She was too cheerful in her greeting he noted; perhaps that had something to do with how young and innocent she was. Nodding sternly, “See anyone else beside me, sweetheart?”

She giggled at his remark as she tucked her hair behind her ear — a nervous habit she’d develop. “Go ahead and settle yourself on the front seat.” She nodded and made her way over to the driver’s seat. As she sat down, she placed her bag on the console, “You have your learning permit?” She grabbed the piece of paper that was in the pocket of her romper and handed it over to him; he thanked her as grabbed it and filled out the information he had, “Do you know what to do once you get in the car and onto the driver’s seat?”

“Adjust the seat, adjust the mirrors, check the lights, and make sure I have gas,” She listed out as she did all of those. Clicking the pen once he’s filled in the necessary information he turned to her with a raised brow, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Looking around her, she tried her best to recall the driving lessons she took and when nothing seemed missing to her she just shook her head no with a slight pout — August originally thought was a childish and foolish expression but she just made it look downright adorable.

Y/N held her breath as Henry leaned over to her so close that their noses nearly touched and his fingertips brushed against her skin as he grabbed the seatbelt, dragging it across her to click it in its place. She didn’t expect him to get that close to her, but she certainly wasn’t complaining when it gave her an up close view of how good he looked in that polo shirt; and the man too was surprised at his sudden move — he was debating with himself that he only did so to ensure her safety, just so she’d be alive and share about her father’s whereabouts, but there was this part of him that was convinced that he just wanted a reason to be close to her. “You’re forgetting the most important safety precaution, sweetheart; and that’s to wear your seatbelt.”

Smiling nervously at him she apologized to which he simply grunted at, “I trust you know how to start the engine?” Her confident persona surfaced, her right hand turned the key to start the car as her left hand rested on the wheel. “What do you need to do before pulling away?”

“Check the mirrors for any oncoming vehicles,” She glanced at the rear and side view mirrors, “Look over to your blind spot,” Twisting her head to look over her shoulder and verify that there was no one or nothing that was incoming, “Signal then drive away.” Turning on her signal light, she put the car from park to drive and began leaving her front yard.

August was impressed with her — for someone who was such a fumbling mess earlier was really focused on driving; he thought that was rare for a beginning driver, as they were far too excited at the thought of getting to go anywhere they wanted. “Good job. I have to say your focus is impeccable as well,” His compliment got her nervously saying thanks. “What’s the speed limit for residential areas?”

“30 kilometers per hour; Do I Just go straight?” They were nearing an intersection and she was told, “Yeah go straight; we’re not leaving the neighborhood just yet.” She nodded and just before she got to cross the intersection she hit the brakes smoothly as there was a stop sign. “One car there, still empty there,” Y/N took note as she moved her head left and right to check the traffic situation.

Once the road was clear she drove straight ahead and her instructor applauded her, “When you take the test, don’t be afraid to talk to yourself like that if it helps. And don’t forget to check if there was already a car from the opposite direction with a stop sign; know why?”

She nodded firmly as her eyes shifted from the road ahead, the rear view mirror, and the speedometer, “Because then they’d have right of way.” August noticed how the tone of her voice would differ; during the earlier part of their interaction, it was soft and low, but now as they drove around it was loud and clear. “When is your driver’s exam again?” He knew when she’d take it — he just thought that by asking that he’d somehow be able to milk information regarding her father.

“This Saturday,” She responded and it seemed that she was nervous about it given how her voice lowered again. “Turn right at the next intersection,” He ordered her. Seeing that she had no stop signs in her direction, she turned on the signal light and moved to the appropriate lane. Once she checked that there were no pedestrians crossing, moved to complete her turn.

“Notice how there weren’t any stop signs on two sides and yet there were on the two?” When she nodded he quizzed her again, “What does that mean?” Before answering him there were kids who were about to cross and she stepped on the brakes, coming to a complete stop and smiled as she signaled for the kids to cross. As she waved at the kids who smiled and yelled thank you she answered him, “Means that I have the right of way; even if someone arrives from the directions with stop signs they have to wait for me to pass before going on.”

“It’s great that you know the answers, some don’t,” He fed her some bullshit to which she bought as she softly laughed. “Well I don’t want to have to retake the exam,” Her lack of use of the word again caught his attention and was quick to ask about it, “This is really your first time taking the test?”

She nodded yes as she stopped at a four way stop, allowing a pickup truck that stopped before her. “How come?” Pressing her foot on the gas, she brought the car forward as she explained, “I don’t know really. My dad usually brings me to places or I take the public transport.” Bingo, August thought, here’s a chance to know more about his whereabouts. “And now? You’re dad can’t take you? Turn left on the next intersection.”

Nodding, she checked the pedestrian if there was someone crossing and stopped at the stop sign to check for any oncoming vehicles, “He’s so busy with work that he can’t. Especially now that he’s out of town.” Not enough information, August thought; but he thought that by asking more questions he’d come off as too nosy. “Do you know how to park uphill and downhill?”

“I know which direction I have to turn the wheels to but I haven’t done that yet,” He nodded and instructed her on what to do. After teaching her how to do so properly, they took a break as August made some pointers over the things he observed as she drove. “It’s good that you keep your eyes moving around to check your surroundings; but don’t stay focused on one place for too long.”

Looking over at her, his heart beat fast with how her eyes looked wide and eager — and somehow he adored how innocent she looked, as she had no idea on what kind of world she got herself involved in ; it distracted him for a while but he managed to tear his gaze on her as he cleared his throat, “But sometimes you turn your signal light on too early, so be careful of that. And don’t stop too far from the stop line, that gives you demerit points.”

She nodded and took a mental note of everything he said, “What about with my parking?” Henry opened the door to check the distance of the car from the pavement, “You hill parking is good so far; not too close or too far. Think you can do parallel parking on that car on the next street?” Y/N eyes followed to where his finger pointed to a sedan that was parked, “Might need some help.”

Appreciating her honesty August reassured her, “Don’t worry I’ll guide you through it.” With his words she began to leave where she was parked and crossed the intersection. Once she was helped on the parallel parking process, her instructor beamed at her, “Good job, Y/N!”

“Thanks for your help, Henry,” The agent admittedly was caught off guard at the name she used— his dumb ass nearly corrected her and told him that wasn’t his name — he blamed it with how sweetly yet shyly she thanked him so that made him lose his concentration. “No worries,” He gruffly replied, which had Y/N found was odd with how his mood seemed to shift given his tone.

“Why don’t we head back home but let’s go through the main road; know the speed limit over there?” She nodded her head as she answered, “60 kilometers per hour, but by Hammonds Avenue it reduces to 50.” Satisfied he rubbed his hands over his thighs, “Fantastic! Get on with it, love.”

Her breath hitched at the name he called her and she paused for a second before pulling away; August too had no idea where that came from but he just couldn’t help himself. The rest of the drive on the way home was filled with stiff and tortuous silence; the radio was not turned on since the agent deemed it would distract her from driving. “Do an uphill parking over here,” He pointed to her front porch. She nodded and poked her tongue out a bit as she concentrated on the task at hand. “Okay, now neutral, then all the way to the left.”

When she felt the tire hit the curb she smiled brightly and turned to Henry, “All done.” The proud expression on her face was so captivating that despite holding himself back he couldn’t prevent himself from mirroring her proud expression with a genuine smile, “You did well today, Y/N. Maybe next time you’ll be the one bringing your dad to work.”

August kept his fingers crossed that his jab would provide him with more information about it; and she partially did, “Not anytime soon though; he’s not due back for at least two weeks.” Despite being disappointed at the vague information he managed not to physically display it as he nodded, “Oh that’s too bad then,” He faked sympathy and unbuckled his seatbelt as she did the same, “Same time tomorrow for our lesson okay?”

Nodding her head up and down, she grabbed her bag from the console and checked the road before exiting. “See you tomorrow, Henry,” She waved as they passed by each other as he walked over to the driver’s side. When their skins brushed, they both could feel a rush of electricity and it made Y/N nervously giggle and skipped away from him without even looking back at him due to how embarrassed she was.

Whereas on the other hand August was confused; he never met someone who made him feel this way. The way she was looking or smiling at him had him weak in the knees; which was something he never experienced before. As she was swiftly entering her home, the Hammer found himself watching her as she did so; just need to make sure she gets home safely, he convinced himself. Though the rational part of himself argued back idiot, she’s already on her porch! What possible harm can come to her?

Once she got inside he finally got in the car and fished out his phone from the glove compartment to connect it to the radio and call Sloane as he began driving to his temporary apartment. After a few rings she picked up, “Walker? How was the first day?”

“Not too bad. Got some minimal information about Roberts,” He could hear faint footsteps on Sloane’s end of the call and inferred she had just gotten back from a meeting. “What have you found out then?”

“Apparently he’s out of town,” His boss’ disappointment with the information was heard through her long sigh, “Any idea when will he return? And to where he is?” He shook his head as he spoke, “Y/N said at least two weeks before he comes back from work out of town.”

“Well that can’t be good,” No shit, August wanted to add but kept silent. “Is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons are done?” Glaring at his phone the agent voiced his disbelief at what he was hearing, “Why should I pursue this lead? Can’t there be any other way to get to Roberts? What about his associates?”

Sloane let out an irritated sigh — one she rarely had to let out when she was talking to her best agent because he usually got the job done — before explaining, “His associates change; they come and go. We never really found a certain person or persons he works with. Y/N is the only constant person in his life and so if anything really she’s our only hope of bringing him in.” The silence from August’s end indicated that she got through his head.

“Now, is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons?” He was now parked in the car park of his temporary base and he thought for a few seconds on how to answer her question. Call it impulsivity or whatever, but before he could even clearly think things through he found himself suggesting, “Perhaps I can ask her out on a date?”

In the years they’ve worked together, Sloane was always impressed and surprised with how August managed to accomplish each mission he assigned her successfully. But this one in particular, he surprised her with his suggestion; heck even August himself couldn’t believe the words that just left his mouth. “I just think that’s the cleanest way to play this one out,” He tried to defend his suggestion, “What other reason would a driving instructor have to remain in contact with their student right?”

The Hammer was cursing himself out with how feeble his justification was; Sloane on the other hand did find herself agreeing with him, “Do what you must.”

The rest of the week went by quickly and Y/N found herself looking forward to every driving lesson she had with her gorgeous instructor. And now that it was the last hour of the last day of their driving lessons, she couldn’t help but wish she got more time to spend with him. In the back of her mind she thought about failing the test in hopes that he’d help her out again. But then it would backfire quick if they sent a different instructor instead.

“Parallel park one last time with that Dodge over there,” His instructions brought her back from the plan she was hatching and going through. As she was executing his instructions, she failed to notice how instead of looking at what she was doing, Henry was observing every facial expression she was completing the task at hand. “There! How was that?” Her eyes staring back at him snapped him out of his entranced stare as he blinked a few times, “Oh well,” He opened the car door to check if the tires hit the curb and how far they were from the curb, “Good job, as usual. Though be careful when you turn the wheel to the right.”

She nodded slowly as she repeated his comment, “How do you feel about your exam tomorrow?” At the mention of her dreaded test she groaned a bit and he chuckled softly — he never saw her this stressed about the test in their previous lessons, so seeing her react this way was somewhat amusing to him. She looked at him with her lips slightly pouting and the skin in her forehead all wrinkled up, “I’m nervous about it; but at the same time I feel like I can do it?”

Henry’s left hand settled itself on her forearm as he affectionately rubbed her, as if he were trying to rid her of the stress and anxieties, “You’re gonna do great, love. Just calm yourself down before taking the test and don’t be afraid to talk to yourself as you drive if it helps you focus.” Y/N’s heartbeat sped up with how gentle he was; over the course of their lessons he came across as stern and rigid but this side of him was something she could get used to.

“How ‘bout you drive back home now, yeah?” She nodded and did so without trouble. August remembered how her father was gone and wondered who’d bring her to the test, “By the way, since you mentioned you dad was out of town, who’ll go with you then?”

Timidly smiling to herself she admitted, “I’ve asked some of my friends, but they all said how they had their own plans. I was gonna ask some of my coworkers and see how that goes.” Clicking his tongue with how unprepared she was, his mouth spit out, “Well how about I go with you then?” Before his brain could even analyze if that was the right thing to say.

Seeing as Y/N was driving she could only briefly glance at him, “You want to take me to the test?” August now backed himself against a wall and couldn’t find a way out, to hell with it, he thought to himself. “Way better than you driving illegally is it not?”

“That is true,” Y/N acknowledged, “But do you do that for all of your students?” Henry let out a laugh and her heart fluttered with how deep it was before he remarked, “Not for everyone, sweetheart, I’ll tell you that.” Feeling cocky with that she mused, “Then I must be special then?”

If you only knew, love, August thought to himself; while Y/N was scolding at herself for possibly flirting with her driving instructor. But technically he wouldn’t be on the day of her exam because their lessons ended, right? “Wanna know how special you really are?” He leaned his elbow on the console, bringing himself closer to her and he sensed how she held her breath as her body stiffened. Shaking her head was the only response she could offer as she was now focusing on parking the car in front of her house.

After coming to a halt she turned over to him and looked at him with curious eyes; Henry then took it as his cue to speak, “You’re so special that should you pass your exam tomorrow, I want to take you out on a date.” Her eyes widened comically that August thought she was an inspiration for a cartoon character. And the agent wasn’t sure if what he was saying was spoken out of desperation for the mission to succeed or because he had taken interest in her.

It had taken her a few seconds before replying and the agent was surprised when she said, “Are you shitting me or is this actually real?” He rid the smirk he had on his face and replaced it with a serious expression, “This is real, sweetheart. Do you think I go around and grace my students with nicknames?” He took her avoiding eyes as a no and his hand grabbed her chin to get her to face him directly, “So do we have a deal, sweetheart? I take you out right after your test for a date, if you pass?”

August held his breath as she unhooked his hand from her chin and leaned over him, planting a kiss on his cheek. His blue eyes were now wide as she had a toothy grin once she pulled away and with a smirk of her own said, “We have a deal, Henry.”

August found himself tapping his leg as he stared at the wall clock, hoping that his domineering stare would make time go faster. Thirty minutes had passed since Y/N started her driving exam and the agent found himself reevaluating in the meantime. Was asking her out on a date the only way to get close to Roberts?

Of course it was, he thought, She said her father will return in two weeks. You’d only have to go out with her once a week and somehow bring him into their conversation and hopefully milk out more intel about him.

Seeing a man dressed in a flannel-patterned polo reeled him back into the present; trailing behind the man was Y/N who had a blank expression on her face. Furrowing his eyebrows he mouthed, “What happened?” Anxiety coursed through his body but it quickly left his body as she winked at him and turned to follow the man. “Do you want to retain your picture from your permit or want to take another one?” He overheard the man ask Y/N, prompting August to relax and smile as he connected the dots — she passed her exam!

But as he was mentally celebrating her success he found himself thinking about how he now had to take her out on the date he promised. It’s just for work, he deliberated, only going out with her to know more about her father. Nothing more, nothing less. However there was this thought nagging him on the back of his head that it wasn’t just for that reason he was taking her out.

Henry groaned as her lips sucked on the sweet spot on his neck as her nails were planted on his shoulders. His large hands alternated between squeezing and rubbing her ass as she grinded herself on his lap.

They found themselves in this situation after Y/N giddily squealed at August how she passed; the agent kissed her forehead as he told her how proud he was of her. As they went to their date he let her drive and as he settled on the passenger seat, his hand rested on her thigh, testing the waters to see if she was comfortable with it — and by the way her thighs pressed against each other, caging in his hand between them, he got the message that she welcomed it happily.

Even throughout the dinner, they both couldn’t get enough of each other. The skin of their arms remained so close to each other that it was as if they were glued to each other. Y/N was beginning to think that the only reason Henry ordered pasta was so he could eat with a single hand so his opposite hand can rest on her thigh. But she wasn’t complaining as she rested her thigh above his.

As they drove back to her place one thing led to another and it ended with Y/N climbing over the console and situating herself on Henry’s lap as their mouths captured each other’s. Y/N unbuttoned his shirt as her lips littered his chest with kisses, she’d linger sometimes in a certain spot long enough to leave marks.

Rolling her hips in his lap, she felt his hard on pressing against her clothed crotch and moaned against his skin. When her dainty fingers were done unclasping the buttons that confined his toned and broad upper body, her hand travelled lower to palm his bulge and before she could open the zipper Henry caught her roaming hand with his, “I think doing this in your house is far better than some cramped up vehicle; don’t you think?”

A blissed out nod was all the response Y/N could give; with that affirmation August opened the door and carried the girl out and shut the car door with his foot. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she planted kisses all over her instructor’s face. She whined as she was put down but understood that it was her cue to unlock the door; though the man behind her was not making the task easy as he was nipping at the skin of her neck and his hands were rubbing her arms.

“Fucking finally,” August rasped out as Y/N managed to unlock the front door and they both hastily entered and the agent shut and locked the door behin him; he spun her to face him so he could rip off her shirt and he smirked as the girl whimpered, clearly turned on with what he did. “Such a naughty girl you are, aren’t you? Going out without even covering these nice tits.” Wrapping his mouth around a breast, she ran her fingers through his hair to encourage him with what he was doing. Without detaching his mouth from her tit and instead switching between the two, he took the initiative to lead them into her couch.

Pushing her to lie on her back, August rid himself of his clothes; he was moving too quickly that Y/N didn’t have the time to take a good look at his chiseled body. Hovering above her, he smirked at her once he noticed her thighs were clenching, “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

Pathetically nodding she grabbed at his shoulders, “Please touch me, Henry.” Snarking at her he tore her leggings and her panties had the same fate. Now that she was just as exposed as he was, August leaned down to lick downwards from her clit and to her pussy. “You taste heavenly, love.” He lapped at her more, needing to quench his thirst for her and curiosity of what she would taste like. “As much as I adore your taste I’m afraid this will have to wait,” Pushing away her legs that wrapped around his neck, he kissed his way up until he was face to face with her.

“Why not?” She whined as she clawed at his back, moaning as she felt the plain of his back muscles. He distracted her by kissing her deeply as his hand stroked his cock a few times before sliding it in her in one stroke. “That’s why,” He huskily answered against her lips; he moved so his knees touched her thighs, allowing him to rut into her properly.

August removed his lips from hers as he instead planted kisses on her neck as his hands toyed with her nipples and breasts; Y/N, on the other hand, was whining about how good he felt. The skin at the back of her thighs was rippling as he thrusted himself in and out of her rapidly and harshly; the top of his thighs hitting against the back of hers, “You feel so good, Henry. So thick and hard inside me.” The man smirked at her wails, loving how wrecked she sounded — in the back of his nasty brain he noted that this was his favorite version of her.

Her hands held onto his biceps, nails leaving harsh marks on his pale and sweaty skin; it turned August even more how her delicate hands couldn’t even wrap half the size of his arm. Her velvet and silk-like walls were squeezing into his cock so tight that it was triggering his orgasm already — the agent would usually last longer, but given how turned on he was coupled with the fact the past week edged him, he was already close to unloading his bottled up frustrations.

“You already got me almost cumming,” He hoarsely whispered in her ear, feeling her wrap her legs around him to pull her closer against him. That didn’t stop him from slamming into her pussy to the point his trimmed pubic hair rubbed against her clit, adding more friction and pleasure for the both of them. “Seems like you are too, love,” Both her nipples were then squeezed to tease her even more and August was just even more amused with how responsive her precious body was underneath him.

“Please Henry, make me cum. I wanna feel your cum all over me too,” She managed to gasp out in between breaths; the man above her growled when he heard how good she sounded as she begged and had no choice but to comply. He leaned down to suckle on her nipple as the other breast was being toyed by his hand. Her clit too received attention as it was being rubbed and pinched with his other hand. As his hips slammed against her thighs harshly and his cock railed her in swift and sharp thrusts, Y/N could only moan and roll her eyes at the simulations she was receiving.

The only warning she could provide him of her impending orgasm was her patting against his biceps as her walls unexpectedly clung to his dick tighter than ever and came around him. August didn’t relent and continued his animalistic pace, milking her orgasm and removing his mouth from her tit to stare at her blissed out and drowsy state provoked his orgasm as well.

“Fucking hell, love,” He groaned out as he slid in all the way inside her and didn’t thrust furthermore as he spilled his load inside her. With their foreheads touching against each other, they breathed against each other to calm themselves down. Y/N’s hands removed themselves from Henry’s biceps; instead she was now stroking his back, as if coaxing the large man above her to calm down. While August rested his hands on her sides, as if memorizing every inch of her skin.

Y/N squealed as she was being lifted up and carried into her bedroom. Contrary to how she was laid down on the couch roughly, her former driving instructor laid her down gently. Kissing her forehead he went to her ensuite bathroom and returned with a towel. Y/N looked at him with loving eyes as he wiped off their combined juices that spilled out of her delicious cunt. Throwing the towel on her hamper, he then laid beside her and August chuckled lightly with how quick the girl was to latch herself onto him for a cuddle — and he did open his arms to welcome her and wrapped them around her smaller figure.

“I hope you don’t do this with all your students?” Her comment had him humorously rolling his eyes and Y/N giggled at his antics. “No, I don’t, love. I promise,” He even held his pinky up for a pinky promise and she was more than eager to latch her pinky with his; bringing their tangled pinkies to his mouth, Henry placed a gentle kiss on them before untangling them so they could hold hands instead. “Well I guess I’m really special?”

Nodding, he lowered his head down a bit so he could kiss her deeply and passionately. Breaking their kiss August replied, “So special that I want to take you out again next week,” Without even disconnecting their lips.

Y/N sleepily mumbled, “I’d like that a lot, Henry.” Her eyes were starting to feel heavy and August kissed her forehead again, “Sleep, love. I’ll be here in the morning.” She nodded against him and did so. For the next few minutes, the CIA agent reflected his actions and decisions. He told Sloane that he’d ask Y/N out on a date only to remain in contact with her. That was it — a date.

But how the hell did he end up enjoying the date — let alone her company and herself — and then taking her to bed? This was a mess. He shouldn’t have slept with her for it would just complicate things. When August saw how she was steadily breathing, he moved out of the bed and rested her head on a pillow. He went out to her living room to look for his pants that he earlier discarded; grabbing for his phone he sent out a text to Sloane :

Secured a meetup with Y/N next week. Will try to fish out more information about Roberts.

He turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. As he was staring at his scattered clothes, he was debating whether he should stay the night with Y/N or just leave right now. Even though he knew which option seemed like the most logical, he surprised himself. He went back to bed and cuddled Y/N close as he too began to drift off to dormancy — he stayed.

#quietmyfearswith #My writing #august walker x reader #august walker x fem!reader #august walker imagine #august walker fanfic #august walker fic #august walker smut #august walker fluff #august walker angst #august walker x reader fluff #august walker x reader smut #august walker x reader angst #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Hypothetically

A/n: I hope you all enjoy this! Ive never written something like this so I’m hoping I did this respectfully (so sorry if this is a little short)

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: mentions of sexual abuse/rape

Requested: by anonymous

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos (Tag List is Open)

Summary: Chan is the best boyfriend. But, some things you just can’t talk about. When you finally confront Chan about a secret about your past you’ve been keeping you have no idea how he’ll react.

Genre: angst, fluff, romance

❉

There was no reason to be anxious. Chan was wonderful. He was more than wonderful. He was....he was Chan. I had never met someone like him. Someone caring, and loving, and understanding. We had only been dating for eight months but it felt like I had been with him for years.

I had forgotten being in a relationship could feel this good. I had been avoiding them for so long after...what had happened before. Chan never pushed me. He always seemed to pick up on cues I didn’t know I was giving. But, there was always this doubt in the back of my mind.

Eight months. By now, in any relationship, a man would be expecting much more than simply nights shared together. I was too scared to give him even that. Chan never showed or hinted that he was impatient or that he wanted to sleep with me. In fact, I don’t even think the subject had ever been brought up. There was no doubt in my mind he was waiting for it though.

There was no way he had the working parts of a man and he wasn’t getting the urge to jump on top of me after eight months.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to sleep with Chan. I did. Very much. The man was essentially walking sex looking like he did all the time. But, giving him that, would mean me being vulnerable in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready to do again.

My car came to a stop at the back of JYP Entertainment. Throwing it into park I looked up at the building. My nerves were twisting themselves into tightly wound knots. There is no way I would know how Chan felt if I didn’t ask him.

I thought the drive from my apartment to the studio would be enough time to figure out what I was going to say to my boyfriend. But, here I sat. The perfect definition of an idiot; staring up at the menacing building waiting for it to sprout legs and chase me down the streets of Seoul.

“Come on,”

My words did not help the tightness growing in my chest. Memories I had pushed down were beginning to resurface. Instinctively my hands flew to my neck as if trying to pry off the hands wrapped around it. The hands of a ghost I had long since thrown out of my life.

“Breathe. Just breathe.” I whispered. My fingers wrapped around my wrist, searching for my pulse. A steady but quick beat thumped against my fingers. After taking another deep breath, I opened the door and got out of the car.

Hands shaking, I swiped the ID card Chan had given me about a month ago. The loud buzz of the door pulled me further away from the painful thoughts I chose to leave in my car.

My feet carried me on the familiar path to the small studio where I tended to spend any free moment I had these days. It was weird being in the building in the day time. I wasn’t used to nodding at people in the hall as I walked to Chan’s studio.

Music floated through the closed door at the end of the hall. Heartbeat pounding in my ears I reached for the door pushing it open. His head turned at the sound, a bright smile filled his face. His long fingers pushed down the headphones to rest around his neck

“Y/n! What’s up baby girl?”

My purse landed on the couch behind him. “I need your advice.” Chan blinked a few times, but turned and gave me his full attention. In hopes of releasing some of my nervous energy, I began pacing in the small room. “So, I have this friend,” I started.

Chan nodded watching me pace with a gentle smile. “Is this your friend from class?” He asked sitting back in his chair. I stopped and looked at him, before continuing my pacing at a slower speed.

“Uhh...no. Different friend. Her name is-uh...Mia...” My eyes looked at Chan to see if he noticed anything. He still seemed interested and none the wiser. “Anyway, uh, Mia- She has this boyfriend. His name is... Chris....stian. His name is Christian.” Chan nodded and watched me lean against the wall.

My hands fiddled with the hairband on my wrist, still needing something to do. “But, they’ve been together for almost a year. She was telling me she was really nervous because she hasn’t you know...slept with him yet. And I- Mia...thinks that Christian even though he never says it, is just waiting for her to let him sleep with her.”

“So, what’s the problem again?” Chan asked with a little laugh. His dimples made an appearance, making my heart skip a beat.

“See the thing is she hasn’t been intimate with anyone for a really long time. It’s not like she’s bad at it or anything. Believe me- she’s very good. I mean. She told me, that she was good.” Chan laughed, interrupting my rambling. “But she hasn’t you know had sex in a really long time. Christian is her first boyfriend in years. It’s just that her last boyfriend wasn’t exactly....a good person.”

Again I looked to Chan. He sat, listening intently. “It was hard for her to talk about. She doesn’t want to tell him, because...she’s embarrassed and she afraid to be vulnerable. She just doesn’t want to get hurt like what happened to her the last time.”

“What exactly happened to her that she’s so afraid to tell him or be with him? If he loves her and she loves him it shouldn’t matter.”

My cuticles suddenly became very interesting. He made a good point. Even though I had never said it, I was in fact completely in love with Chan. It was probably why I was obsessing over telling him about what happened.

“Her ex was fine when they started dating. But one night, he took it too far. She said she begged for him to stop...and he didn’t. Instead, he held her down by her neck until he was finished. She thought that it was maybe just a heat of the moment thing. Just something that would happen one time and she could forget it. Leave it as a mistake. But it happened again. And again. She would tell him to stop. He wouldn’t. He would hold her down. Hurt her when she wouldn’t do what he wanted.”

Chan stayed silent.

“She felt like she couldn’t tell anyone. She thought, ‘it’s not rape if we’re dating right?’. It was consensual... at least in the beginning. She is just so afraid of being that vulnerable with him. She knows that he would never hurt her, but...” I shook my head, shaking myself out of the trance I had slipped into. “Mia asked me to put myself in her shoes. But, I don’t know what to do. If this was you and me...what would you do? Hypothetically.”

I searched his eyes for any sort of thought or judgment, but he simply stared at me, hands folded in his lap. After a moment, Chan stood up and came to stand in front of me.

“Hypothetically...I would tell you that I love you. I would never hurt you. And that you know you can always talk to me about anything.” His warm hand wrapped around mine, bringing it up to his lips. “Hypothetically,” He began again. “I would never make you do anything you don’t want to. I wouldn’t care about sex. I would care about you.”

“You really mean that?”

“Hypothetically, yes I do,” Chan said with a smile, kissing my hand again.

I laughed, leaning my head against his chest. “When did you figure out I wasn’t talking about friends?”

He sighed wrapping his arms around me. “It wasn’t very hard.”

I felt safe wrapped up in his arms. “You really don’t care that we’ve been together for so long and we haven’t had sex?” Chan shrugged kissing the top of my head.

“I could care less. I respect you enough to wait until you’re ready and no earlier.” For a moment he just held me in his arms. “I’m really sorry that happened to you. I wish I had known sooner.”

I looked up at Chan and kissed him, my hands pressing against his chest. “So, do you love me hypothetically? Or actually?” Chan smiled, holding onto me even tighter.

“I love you. Actually.”

❉

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exosmutfactory · 3 years

Text

Six Phases 006 Pt 1

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: Hello!~ Long time no see. Are you ready for what comes next? 🤭😇

This chapter update is 20.5k so far... and it’s only the 1st “section” of Chapter 6 so you can imagine how this is gonna go (<.<) oops

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut (in part 2) ]

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⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010

(I was unable to tag one of you guys, sorry love💗)

If you’d like to be added next time, please check out this blog post. Thank you ^^ 🌹

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A/N: I will be making the story layout more pretty ^^ Hope you like it! Let’s go!~

Track 01

It's funny how the most important people in your life can enter your world at any given moment. So suddenly—so unexpectedly that you can't imagine your new acquaintance becoming one of your best friends, a flirty friend of friends looking out for you, or even winning a playboy millionaire's heart.

Sometimes these people come out of the blue, and you may not see it then, but they will become pillars to help you hold yourself up; practical family members that you can go to in times of uncertainty—and you will thank your lucky stars every night for not being dumb enough to push these pillars of strength away. Especially if one of them holds the key to your heart…

As dumb as he can be with some things.

And there's just something about observing a silver-haired man walking through a world of white. Snowflakes clinging to the top of his head and his brown winter coat as he struggles with a large box in his hands.

• • •

The adorable pout on his lips makes a giggle escape mine. I watch him from afar with a fond smile, cupping my hands around my mouth. "Baekhyun!"

My loud call seems to startle him. I burst into laughter as he stumbles over his feet again. "Here, here." Chuckling, I quickly run across the parking lot to assist him. Thankfully without slipping on a patch of black ice along the way. "Let me help you."

"Please do." His warm brown eyes meet mine under the dim street lights, a pout still on his lips. "You sure we'll be alone tonight? This box is quite heavy."

I shoot him a small, secretive smile, neatly tucking my hands under the box along with his, my mitten-covered fingertips brushing against his leather gloves. "Yes babe, it's just you and me~"

Baekhyun hums, unconvinced, as we walk the box to his car, carefully setting it on the floor in the backseat. I catch a whiff of his heart-fluttering, cinnamon-scented cologne before he walks around to the driver's side. "Ready to tell me what's in it?" He raises a brow, resting his folded arms on the top of the snow-covered Audi, a smile playing at his lips.

"I'll think about it~" I chirp, slipping into the passenger seat as he climbs in with a chuckle, hovering my palms over the vent when he starts the car and cranks up the heat. "It's a surprise though."

He hums, carefully backing out of the empty parking lot.

"Oh!" Turning to him with my best puppy eyes, I softly ask, "Can we stop by the convenience store?"

"If you tighten your seatbelt," He advises, taking a quick glance at me and a moment to adjust his own before turning onto the road.

I lean back in the comfortable leather seat, humming along to a familiar song on the radio as he taps his fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. A smile forming on my lips while admiring his side profile against the snowy backdrop of the fogged-up driver's window.

He glances over with a smile of his own, "What?"

I can't help but giggle. "Nothing." Cheekily resting my chin on my palm and balancing my elbow on the handle of the door, I muse, "Just admiring my handsome boyfriend."

Even with only the glow from the radio and the occasional streetlight, I can spot the telling red color on his cheeks. "Shh, you're distracting me." He insists in a flustered murmur, steering the wheel.

Chuckling softly, I turn to face the window, sneaking a peek at him every now and then.

• • •

After I flashed the cashier my ID and purchased what I desired at the store, I held the bottle in my lap for the rest of the ride home, carrying it up as Baekhyun assured me he could manage walking the box on his own to the elevator. Of course, I held open the door for him to make both our lives—and my subconscious—easier, and I unlocked the one to our shared apartment.

He had asked me to move in with him the night of our one year anniversary. The question came so out of the blue, I nearly sprayed champagne all over his nervous features across our chandelier-lit table at an upscale Italian restaurant. I mean… I love surprises—and him as well—but damn man, not even a subtle warning!? And why the hell does he want to live with me anyway?

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," He murmurs, cheeks rosy. From his confession or the champagne, no one knows. My face doesn't feel like it's doing any better either. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to-"

—Okay, okay. Baekhyun is a hopeless romantic who I'm forever trying my best not to melt into a lovestruck puddle on the floor because of his heart quaking words. And what he wants is what he gets. Most of my clothes are stored in our closet, my purple toothbrush next to his golden one, and my 'emergency' duffle bag is stuffed in the farthest corner of the large space.

Now that I'm officially considered, "Baekhyun's woman," Among his group of friends, I have plenty of options for places to crash for a few nights if the need arises. I'm still getting used to his face being the first thing I see in the morning and sometimes I need a little breather, especially when I sense an argument on the rise. It's all fun and games until we're both running low on sleep and high on adrenaline. A girl's always got to have a plan B.

Even Jongdae offered me his guest bedroom for shelter—and sleepovers!—since Jenny moved in with him after graduating earlier in the year. Must be nice, I got a few classes to finish up while diligently editing the current novel that Park's Publishing is working towards welcoming to the public. It's a lengthy fantasy read full of cheesy romance and battling monsters I can't even think to name—typical shit, a few twists and turns along the way, you get the gist.

Baekhyun carefully sets the box down in the living room while I remove my white coat and snow-covered shoes, quickly skipping into the kitchen with the bottle in hand. "Still trying to figure it out?" I call over my shoulder, moving to get ice from the freezer.

"They're definitely canned," He murmurs, padding into the room on sock-clad feet; his arms wrapping around my waist and chin resting on my shoulder as I work on the countertop. "Did you order exotic food again?"

I shake the bottle in my hand, "What goes good with vodka?" Looking over my shoulder, I find his eyes shifting back and forth between the drink in my hand, and the two iced filled glasses on the counter. His brown eyes light up in realization. "Cheerwine?" He chuckles at my excited nod, "You were serious, weren't you?"

"I miss my homeland soda, okay!" I huff, grinning at his endearing laugh before batting my eyes up at him, "Mind opening the box, babe?~" My eyes flutter closed as he presses a lingering kiss to my forehead.

"Of course," He murmurs, soft lips curled in a smile.

As he goes to unpack the drinks, I put my focus back on the ones in front of me, carefully pouring roughly an ounce of vodka in each glass. There is no desire to party too hard tonight when both of us have work in the morning.

"Are you ready, babe?" I tilt my head towards him, holding a glass in each hand. At the confirmation of him indeed prying open the box, I bring the drinks into the living room, neatly setting them down next to the two red cans on the coffee table. "Ready to relax?" I utter playfully to his lean body stretched comfortably across the entirety of our black & white striped couch. His black button-down shirt and matching snug jeans straining deliciously over his thick thighs and firm chest.

Baekhyun nods with a soft hum, and I won't even deny the way my heartbeat skips when he sits up, welcoming me into his open arms with sparkly brown orbs. "Come here."

Accepting the invitation—what am I gonna do? Say no? No way in hell—I carefully nestle myself in his lap, snuggling into his firm chest as my cheeks warm. They burn even more as my eyes catch his fond-filled ones. "Uh-uh." I gulp, squeaking, "Drinks?" Carefully pulling the tab on the first can he hands me before leaning forward to pour an even amount of soda in each glass. Relishing in the familiarity that washes over me in wake of the soft fizz.

Baekhyun hums, a soft smile playing at his lips. He hands me a glass and collects the other for himself. The feeling of his racing heart on my back has me hiding a smile of my own in the fabric of my pastel green turtleneck. I watch his reaction as he takes a tentative sip; his jaw moving while he seems to savor the taste before taking another, briefly meeting my eye.

I blink expectantly, "Well?"

Baekhyun chuckles, planting a heart-fluttering kiss on my nose. "It has a nice cherry flavor. I like it."

I hum, arching a brow, not quite satisfied. "Better than Cola?"

He laughs, nodding as I sip on my own. "Yes, baby," He murmurs, soft lips brushing over my forehead while pulling me closer, "definitely better."

With a nod, I let the conversation lull into a calm silence, nothing but the tinkering of shifting ice and the reassuring beat of Baekhyun's heart interrupting the blissful atmosphere. Nights like these are my favorite: staying in and curling up to each other for warmth. Away from the loud bustle of our daily lives.

Thankfully with my hard work ethic, (read numerous sleepless nights,) the higher-ups have allowed me to work from home as long as I come in for important meetings and I am present three days a week. I rarely miss more than a day every few weeks though; I have no issues working in my designated office there. However, having the option to pack up my laptop and go spend lunch with Baekhyun in his company a few blocks over is always a treat. And the cutest expression of surprise that forms on his features... I'm never taking it for granted.

I stir a little at a soft pressure on the top of my head, blinking a few times before looking up at an equally sleepy Baekhyun. Giggles soon escape us both. "Cheerwine is a sleeping drink, hmm?" He smiles, eyes twinkling.

"It's really relaxing okay," I smile as more laughter rumbles in his chest, melting further into him as his hand rubs soothingly over my back. "I had a lot through high school."

"Helped to prepare for finals?" He inquires, gently combing warm slender fingers through my hair, melted ice swirling around the bottom of his glass.

I nod, briefly closing my eyes with a hum. "That and facing idiots every day. I almost didn't want to go to college, man."

A gentle smile lights up his face, "But you did." The sparkle in his eyes as he gazes down at me warms me up from the inside out. "And then you met me."

"—The persistent idiot from a frat party."

"Yah!" He complains as I erupt into another giggle fit, squealing when he starts leaving ticklish kisses all over my neck.

"Hey, I'm drinking here!"

Baekhyun chuckles, stopping his playful attacks; his small smile pressed to my neck.

"What?" I mutter breathlessly, savoring the remainder of my drink while regaining my breath. Trying not to waver despite the heat rising in my cheeks under the warmth of his stare. His comforting grip on my waist isn't easily ignored either.

"Nothing," He murmurs, looking me over for a moment. Adoration shining clear in his bright orbs as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, uttering softly, "Want to take a bath with me?"

"H—Huh?" I squeak, wide-eyed, hiding behind my hand. My face damn near bursting into flames. "Why?"

Baekhyun laughs softly, briefly squeezing my waist. "I don't know, I just…" He falters, fingers fidgeting, an all-telling red hue filling his cute cheeks. "Just thought it'd be nice."

"Nice, huh?" I mumble over the rim of my glass, licking a few stray drops before they can fall while arching a brow; my lips curling at the tint of red crawling up his ears.

"Y-Yeah, I mean," He stutters, focused on my cherry lips.

"I think you just want to see me naked," I tease, leaning forward to set my glass on the wooden table behind his blushing form sitting against the armrest of the couch.

"No-" Baekhyun's breath hitches, tilting his head back at my cold lips softly exploring the warm skin of his gorgeous neck. "M-Maybe…"

"Mmhm." Gently nibbling where his neck meets his jaw and putting his half-full glass away as well, I murmur, "That can be arranged."

Baekhyun sits there for a long moment, blinking owlishly at me before he straightens up. He swoops his arms under my knees and behind my back, standing up without a word, his biceps flexing at the motion. Soft eager lips press to my squealing ones as he walks down the hall to our bedroom.

I wrap my arms around his neck with a shy smile, smirking inwardly at the rapid beat of his heart under my palm resting against his neck.

"Give me a sec," He mumbles, entering the master bathroom. He sets me down on the spacious counter and opens a nearby drawer. "Can you open the cabinet for me?"

"You're gonna light a candle?" I blink, eyes widening at the box of matches in his hand.

"Not a candle," He braces his free hand on the countertop, capturing my lips in an unhurried kiss that makes me gasp. "Many candles."

"How romantic," I chuckle, breathy as he pulls away.

"Everything for you," His lips curl into that adorable, boyish smile; his hand patiently waiting. I retrieve the container of cream-colored candles from beyond the mirrored door behind me, carefully closing it before turning back to him, watching as he lights the match. The flickering flame reflects beautifully in his brown eyes while he holds it to the first candle, the scent of vanilla filling the room. A knowing smile forms on his lips at my unwavering stare.

I clear my throat, gripping the edge of the counter, "I'll go start the water-"

Baekhyun wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back to him with a shake of his head. "No, I'll do it."

"But-"

"Baby," He has that pleading look in his eyes, lowering the lit match held between his fingertips. "Let me pamper you."

"You're gonna make me spoiled," I grumble, eyes fluttering shut at the soft brush of his lips over my cheek.

"You're my girl," He murmurs, chuckling, softly squeezing my waist. "Of course I'm going to spoil you."

My chest nearly bursts under the weight of my surging affection. "Well then..." I begin, calm despite my racing heart, sliding my hands down to unbutton his shirt and tug at the belt on his jeans. I pull up his tucked-in t-shirt, aimlessly searching for his lips. "Do it properly."

My eyes flicker open just in time to catch his adam's apple bobbing, his little nod causes my lips to curl up. He hands me the lit match before shrugging off his shirt; his black t-shirt not too far behind. I lick my lips, trailing my gaze over his honey-toned torso. Smiling before pressing my mouth back to his soft pillows, mindful of the flame between my fingers while wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "My favorite view."

Baekhyun's bashful smile presses more firmly to mine, strong arms holding me flush to his body. I don't know if the sudden heat in the room is coming from my thick clothes or the proximity of his firm chest.

Just as I start to feel overwhelmed by the warmth, he detaches our lips with a loud smooch, carefully taking the match from my hand. The passionate fire in his orbs burning brighter than the flame between his fingers is enough to make me scorching hot under the collar.

Baekhyun has that knowing little smirk forming on his face again, lighting a few more candles before blowing out the match. "I'll start the water."

I can only giggle, completely enamored with him. The twinkling sparkle in his eyes in response to my laugh makes my heartbeat skip even more. I duck my head to hide from his amused expression and adoring gaze.

He just chuckles, planting a fleeting kiss on my forehead before stepping towards the grand tub on the other side of the room. Grand because the damn thing has three white steps leading up to it and it's at least as big as our king-sized bed in the other room.

The soothing sound of running water fills the air, mixing with the sweet aroma of vanilla and the view of Baekhyun leaning over the tub. His back muscles flexing alluringly, black belt tugging perfectly on his hips.

I look away, covering my red face with a muffled giggle, tugging at the collar of my shirt. Just what has this man done to me?

"What?" He glances over his shoulder, an amused smile playing at his lips.

"Nothing." Hiding my smile is nearly impossible until it falls off my face entirely in wake of him running a wet hand through his silver hair. The soft strands pushed off his gorgeous forehead with those dancing brown eyes of his watching me. I'm not blushing, I swear it's the humidity in the room.

He steps back over to me with antagonizing slow strides, his hands resting comfortably on my waist. "May I?" He murmurs, sliding them down to take hold of the hem of my turtleneck. The warmth of them somehow manages to seep through the thick fabric of my shirt.

I can only gulp, nodding meekly as he smiles, pulling the soft material over my head. The way his eyes drift over my tank top makes my cheeks warm—even more so when he rids me of it without hesitation.

"I should consider underwear," He mutters distractedly, one hand swiping under the edge of my bra while the other slides warmly up my back.

"You wanna compete with them too?" I arch a brow, leaning into his touch.

"No," He shakes his head, wrapping his arm around my waist, lifting those brown eyes back up to meet mine. "I want to see you with my name."

I can't help but snort despite my racing heart, giving him a disbelieving look. "You'd make a whole clothing line just for me to wear?" My amused grin falters at his serious nod. "I wouldn't be the only one wearing them, Baekhyun."

He hums, leisurely peppering kisses to the exposed skin of my chest. Goosebumps rise under his gentle caress as he pulls off my bra, quietly muttering, "You're the only one that matters."

There's no hiding my quickening heartbeat with his lips pressed so firmly to my skin; his brief smile not helping the state of my flushing cheeks at all. Just as I part my lips, my breath hitches—words forgotten with his hands trying to slip under the waistband of my thick leggings. I tsk, lightly smacking them away. "Yours first, mister."

"Mmm." He smiles, his palms sliding down my thighs. He's got that look in his eyes again that tells of unspoken mischief. "I kinda like the sound of that-"

"Never in a million years, Byun."

He chuckles, warm breath fanning over my cheek. "Remember last time? When you just-"

"Baekhyun!" My hand clapping over his mouth does nothing to muffle his contagious laughter. I can only shake my head, reaching to unzip and pop the button of his jeans. He gets quiet as I push them down to his calves. "Don't give me that look," I mutter, running my hands over his back, already well aware of the barely concealed problem he has.

"Why?" He murmurs, seeming to be content with painting me in gentle pink hues with his soft lips.

"You're staring."

Baekhyun chuckles, lifting his head, meeting my eyes with his twinkling ones. "I love admiring art."

"Oh, so I'm an object now?" I arch a brow, leaning back on my palms braced against the countertop.

"No." He shakes his head, brown eyes still focused on mine, long strands of silver hair cascading down his forehead. "You're the source," He pauses, smiling almost shyly, "Of my love and affection."

I'm ignoring the urge to coo at his reddening ears, merely planting a kiss on his cheek before wiggling out of my pants and carefully sliding off the counter. I collect our scattered clothes from the floor, tossing them into the wash basket a few feet away, curiously venturing over to the tub. Funny how we haven't used it since I moved in with him months ago. Then again, dating a CEO or not, I still think it is a waste of water just to fill up half of this thing, let alone what kind of water bills come with turning on the internal jacuzzi mode that will set the water into motion. But tonight is a special occasion.

No need for fancy anything—well, excluding the expensive bathtub—just being by his side is one of the most rewarding feelings in the world.

The steam rising from the still water makes my face feel dewy and refreshed. Coaxing me to dip into its heated depths. I gather my hair up into a bun, reaching for my hair-tie only to find out that it isn't on either of my wrists.

"Ah—do you need one?" Baekhyun mumbles, pausing mid-stride, pink lips pouting as he ruffles his silver hair.

Smiling adoringly, I make my way back to him with a shake of my head, grabbing his wrist. "No, it's fine."

"But-"

"It's alright, Baekhyun." Noticing the uncertainty playing on his features, I giggle. "It's not going to melt off, you know?"

He still has a furrow between his brows.

Fighting my smile, I shrug after a few moments, scrunching my nose, "My hair just gets a bit puffy—but." Holding my hand up at the sight of his dancing orbs, I narrow my eyes, muttering, "If my head ends up underwater, we are going to have a problem."

"Alright," He nods, lips curled up in a sheepish smile. "I can work with that."

I smile softly, taking a deep breath as he steps closer; heart palpitating when his familiar scent hits my nose, mixing with the aroma of vanilla permeating the air. His wet hair flops over his forehead in the most endearing of ways, outlining the cute droop of his eyes and his brown irises lit with the flickering candle flames. I doubt I will ever find a more comforting place than the shelter of his strong arms, fully content with melting into the security of his honey-toned skin.

"The water's getting cold," I blurt, muffled in the safety of his shoulder.

Baekhyun laughs, briefly dipping his hand into the water. We strip off the rest of our clothes and slip into its pleasantly warm depths.

'Wow,' I mouth, settling against the far side of the tub, relaxing under the water comfortably lapping at my shoulders.

"Nice, hmm?"

"Nice!?" My eyes drift to him as he moves closer. "Dude, I could spend an entire lifetime here if I wouldn't shrivel up like a prune."

I catch a glimpse of his sugar-sweet smile before he moves to sit behind me, pulling me close until my back is resting on his chest. Relaxing completely against him, all tension seems to leave my body, only a sense of warmth and security fills my being.

This kind of closeness—this intimacy—is something I'm definitely up for getting used to. The steady beating of his heart, the soft puffs of his every breath... It makes me inwardly scold myself for not doing this with him sooner. But when I stop to think about it…

I shoot down the thought quickly, fighting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut. The past is in the past. It shouldn't define the present, nor should I think about it. No matter how painful it is, I rather focus on Baekhyun's fingers gently playing with the ends of my hair instead of getting lost in the reminders of why my chest aches from time to time. The unanswered questions and concerns that easily plague my mind if I'm not careful enough.

I'm brought back to the calming waters of the tub by the feeling of Baekhyun's hand sliding down my stomach. "What are you doing?" I grumble, peeking an eye open.

"Appreciating," He murmurs with a small smile, wet strands of his hair tickling my ear as he plants a kiss on my shoulder. "I want to wash your hair. May I?"

Both my eyes flutter open with a quiet hum, a lazy smile forming on my lips. "Only if I can too," I propose, peeking over my shoulder at him. The view of his slender neck bared while his head rests against the back of the tub with water lapping at his chest is damn near intoxicating. Like what the hell, I swear this man grows finer by the day—or maybe I'm just a sucker for him... At this point, it's probably a mixer of both. Possibilities are endless when it comes to being in love—especially the cringe-worthy ones.

Baekhyun hums, brown eyes shimmering brightly as I turn around to face him, resting my palms on his lean abdomen for stability. "I'd love that," He murmurs, arms wrapping around my waist.

I shoot him another sweet smile, reaching to grab his shampoo bottle left on the edge of the tub. An all-too-familiar citrus scent wafts into the air when I open it. Squeezing a bit in my palm, I rub my hands together. "Close your eyes—just in case," I mumble sheepishly. I'm not about to risk him getting soap in his eyes tonight. Between his luck and my clumsiness, we must take all precautions.

Baekhyun chuckles, his eyes fluttering shut as I carefully run my hands through his hair, shifting into a comfortable position on his lap. He rubs soothing circles on my back, making me smile shyly, treating his soft strands with care.

"Your roots are showing," I note, gently ruffling his silver locks.

"I know." He tsks, cracking an eye open. "I'll get it done in a few days. When inventory calms down."

Humming, I swipe away shampoo drifting down his forehead, looking into his eyes sternly. "Enough of that. Less talking, more washing."

Soft laughter rumbles in his chest. "Yes ma'am," He mumbles, brown orbs shining in amusement, shutting his eyes again.

I massage the shampoo into his scalp, thoroughly covering the hair at the nape of his neck, pausing at the soft peck he presses to my lips. My cheeks burst into flames, "Lay back for me?"

"Oh?" He peeks, soapy suds sliding down his jaw. "This isn't what I was expecting, but I'm not complaining," He murmurs, smirking.

"Baekhyun!"

He's full-on laughing, causing the water to ripple around us. I shake my head, smiling a little, shielding his forehead and scooping up water to rinse his hair.

"Almost done," I mumble distractedly, my gaze drifting over his handsome features in the meantime. There's nothing like seeing a peaceful expression form on his face, or being the one to help him relax after a tiring day. Witnessing the way his stern eyes soften into the purest brown pools of love makes me feel like a criminal. "There."

"Thank you, baby." He hums, eyelashes brushing his cute cheeks before his sparkly brown orbs focus on me. He leans up for a sweet kiss that washes my every worry away, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form on my skin. "Your turn."

I don't even try hiding my smile, relaxing at the rare feeling of his hands carding through my hair. Something about the gentle way he does it makes me giggle, giddiness bubbling in my chest.

"What's so funny, hmm?" He murmurs, biting my ear.

"Baek!" I squeal, nearly opening my eyes as he chuckles, pressing a ticklish smooch to my neck.

Stealing a peek at him, I could melt at the adorable concentrated look on his face. Moments like these remind me how much I love this man. His every habit and cute mannerisms. Even on days when we've had enough of each other, where we teeter close to the edge of a breakup, I rather try a thousand times with him than start over with someone else. Stubborn personality and all, no pride of mine outweighs my never-ending love for him.

Nothing compares to how much I would do for him. Rain, sleet, or snow, I'll be there—and knowing he'd do the same, that he feels the same—is the greatest feeling imaginable.

"Baekhyun?"

"Hmm?" He lifts his head from the edge of the tub, holding me close to his beating heart, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The warmth of his gaze and the familiarity of his palm cupping my cheek send my adoration to new heights.

Taking my time to gaze over his features, I map every soft slope, every stunning curve, every unique freckle of his skin to memory. The little imperfections that make him even more perfect to me, reminders of why I haven't given up completely on humanity. I could spend forever with you. "I love you."

His beaming smile is the most heart-fluttering gesture in the world. "I love you too."

The sizzling of meat and the mouth-watering aroma of seasoned beef fills the air, popping to the tempo of my anxious heart. I blow away annoying strands of hair dangling in my eyes, painstakingly swirling the steadily cooking, thinly sliced marinated strips around the pan. Monitoring the rice cooker on the other side of the stove while being mindful of the glass plates neatly set out on the counter. I'm grateful that this recipe is as simple as the online articles have stated, who knows what kind of disastrous mess the kitchen would be in by now if it were any more difficult on this Friday night. 8 straight hours of back and forth with a picky, opinionated novelist has left me ravenous, I can't imagine what Baekhyun must be feeling.

The familiar sound of the security code being typed in is audible over the quiet atmosphere, bringing a smile to my lips as the front door opens.

"Honey," That honey-filled voice chimes, beautiful even with the tiredness in his soothing timbre. "I'm home-"

I carefully slide the food out of the pan, giving his plate the bigger portion, glancing over my shoulder at him while trying a piece of meat. He's just standing there in the middle of the room with parted lips, his white dress shirt straining against his chest and black blazer hanging off his biceps.

"Welcome home, Baekhyunee," I murmur, an amused smile tugging at my lips.

He hangs up his coat and blazer with an acknowledging hum, neatly placing his dress shoes on the shoe rack before slipping into his black house slippers, entering the kitchen with quick resounding footsteps.

My eyes flicker over to the beeping rice cooker as I finish emptying the meat from the pan, barely taking two steps before he's wrapping his arms around my waist. "You're home early."

"That I am," He muses, pressing a kiss to my hairline, strong arms tightening around me. "What's all this?"

"...Do you not recognize Bulgogi?" I frown, giving him the side-eye while scooping rice out of the cooker, smiling at the result. It's not overdone or undercooked. Perfect. "—Wait, is it that unrecognizable? Did I fuck-" I gasp, disoriented from being spun around so quickly.

Baekhyun chuckles, brown eyes twinkling in awe as he smiles down at me. "You didn't, baby." His thumb brushes over my lips, dexterous fingers curling stubborn strands of hair behind my ear. "I'm just surprised is all. What's the occasion?"

"Well..." I mumble, spooning a piece of meat on top of some rice. "I'm tired of getting takeout all the time. We may be busy, but I'll be damned if we buy food that we can cook in mere minutes like what's the point? When we can just-" My eyes flutter close, heart rate exhilarating at the feeling of his soft pillows pressed to mine.

"Let's cook more often," He proposes with a smile, leaning down to take a bite of the spoonful of food held in my frozen hand. Not even two seconds go by before his eyes widen.

"What?" My eyes enlarge the longer he's quiet; he's chewing so nonchalantly I have the urge to run away in a burst of panic.

"It's amazing," He mumbles after a few minutes, eyes sparkling so brightly while gazing at me, planting a kiss on my nose. "I love it."

"You…" I blink a few times, lightly smacking his arm. "You jerk!"

Baekhyun just laughs, pulling me further into his warm embrace. Brown eyes forming cute crescent moons.

"I thought you didn't like it," I mumble, slumping in defeat, unmistakable warmth rising on my cheeks.

"Why wouldn't I?" He murmurs, planting a kiss on top of my head. The tiredness from a long day of work only amplifying the sexy rasp of his voice. "Even if you burnt it to a crisp, I'd compliment you."

I scoff with a racing heart, stepping out of his hold, "That's not very honest."

"Mmhm, but-" He chuckles softly, taking me by the hand and spinning me back around, love shining in those deep brown orbs of his. He's breathtaking under the dim overhead light of the stove that will need to be replaced soon. The faint glow and coupling shadows cast over his features in a captivating way, making him appear older and reformed yet reflecting the youthful emotions in his eyes all the same. His silver hair is blinding under the reflective light; surprisingly the least bit ruffled in its state over his forehead. How someone can look so stunning after working all day will always astonish me, but that's just him.

"I'm honestly in love with you," Baekhyun utters in a heart-quaking hush as if sharing a secret, setting my cheeks aflame. "—And your cooking. Holy shit, what did you put in this?"

I shoot him a small, secretive smile, resting my hand on his bicep, "It's a secret~"

"A secret, huh?" Baekhyun muses, arching a brow, fighting a smile. He briefly glances down at my mouth at that moment, licking his lips before leaning in.

"Ah-" I take a step back just as his soft pillows brush against mine, bracing my hand on his firm chest when he steps closer. "Don't you dare."

"What?" He mumbles, meeting my eyes, pink lips jutted out in the tiniest pout.

Shifting my gaze away from the unfairly adorable sight, I mutter, "I spent all afternoon marinating that meat. You better not let it get cold."

"I'm hungry for something else at the moment," He murmurs lowly, biting his lip. Just those words alone from his sinful mouth make my insides quiver. I clear my throat, trying my best to keep a flush from reappearing on my face as he runs a hand through his silver hair, giving me those darkening brown eyes.

Spotting a magazine out of the corner of my eye, I grab it just as he's leaning in again, promptly smacking his arm. "Dessert comes after dinner—if," I breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, "you're lucky."

"May luck be on my side then..." He hums thoughtfully, swiping his thumb over his lips; slender fingers softly squeezing my waist. His dark brown orbs lift back up to mine, eyeing me intensely for a long minute. My cheeks redden at the implications.

Baekhyun finally shifts his attention back to the steaming plates. "I'll handle these. Go sit down."

"I-"

He turns those dark brown eyes onto me again, the mischievous promises swirling within them enough to weaken my knees. I spin around on my heel without another word, hurrying to the dining table. He brings both the plates over, setting them down on the winter-themed table mats placed in front of our designated seats. We prefer sitting next to each other when having meals together at home—some nights spent with my right hand being held securely in his left one.

Baekhyun slides into his chair just as I pick up a pair of chopsticks, the faint scent of his cologne tickles my nose. Would it be silly to say that the room seems to warm up whenever he is around? He's like a little source of comfort and warmth, relaxing me in any situation. It doesn't matter where I am; if he is there, I'll know I'm safe, that everything's going to be alright.

"Say ah," Baekhyun's melodic voice rings, sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

I pause mid-bite, glancing over at him. He continues to hold up a piece of meat despite my incredulous stare, "Really?"

He just smiles sweetly, patiently waiting, his bright brown eyes sparkling when I take the offered food with a playfully annoyed sigh.

"I missed you today," He murmurs warmly, pointedly staring down at his plate. My heart nearly jumps out my chest at the sweetness. I bite my lips to fight back a smile, holding back a giggle. It's always heartwarming to know that even after all this time, I'm not the only one bursting at the seams with my love for him. He's so fucking adorable.

"I missed you too," I mutter, kissing his rosy cheek before shifting my attention back to my food. "Eat up, you've had a long day."

"Oh baby, you have no idea." He groans. The familiar sound of metal cutlery clinking against glass dishes fills the room.

"Wanna share?" I inquire, resting my chin on my palm, carefully picking up a few pieces of beef and rice. I gaze intently at him with an encouraging smile.

"I've had three meetings since the afternoon," He grumbles, a tired smile briefly tugging at his lips. "Someone kept messing up the orders and a truckload of the material conveniently ended up shipped to the wrong facility."

"Conveniently?" My gaze flickers to his glass of water on the table, dangerously close to the edge. I move it closer to the center of the table mat, eyes widening slightly at the clench of his jaw. His eyes are full of that stern businessman gleam he only gets when he's restraining the urge to go off on a subordinate.

"Mmm." His body is rigid despite his calm tone, voice deeper than usual, "I swear that they are out to get on my nerves." He speaks slowly as if containing his anger. "We've been at this for years, why haven't they got their shit together yet?"

"Did you get the shipment?" My voice is soft as I tentatively rest my head on his shoulder, stroking his arm.

Baekhyun hums, relaxing a little, resting his head on top of mine. "It's frustrating." He sighs.

"Good thing you're the boss then," I chirp, peeking at him, cheekily adding, "You can yell at them and you won't get fired."

Thankfully, my words make him laugh, breaking the tension in his broad shoulders. The joyous sound rumbles his chest and echoes off of the walls.

"Shh!" I whisper, softly covering his mouth, making a show of looking around. "Yah, don't wake the neighbors. They might think I'm watching questionable comedy again."

Baekhyun only laughs harder, pressing a kiss to my palm before taking my hand into his own, his brown orbs lit up in amusement. "That movie was a wild ride."

"Literally," I agree, raising my brows to broaden his smile. "How much longer do you have to work these long hours?" My tone comes out whiner than intended, but I just hide my face in his neck, basking in his comforting scent.

"A few more days," He mumbles, kissing my head, gently tangling his fingers in my hair. "Why? Do you miss me?" He teases, curling a strand around his finger.

My heart downright quivers. "Nah, I'm just curious—of course, I miss you!" I retort, scoffing, shooting him a look. "12-hour shifts are too much. You're gonna start getting gray hair for real."

"Just until Thursday, baby." He murmurs, chuckling at my doubtful expression, tucking hair behind my ear, and cupping my cheek in his warm palm. "Two more days and then I'm all yours."

"Are you sure about that?" Muttering under my breath, I get lost in the mocha brown of his eyes, my own fluttering shut at the light kiss he presses to my lips.

"Mmm as sure as I am about loving you," He smiles, caressing my cheek with his thumb, gazing adoringly into my eyes.

If I was standing, I'm positive I would have stumbled over my feet by now. I swear this man and his affection will make me melt into a damn puddle one day—possibly today at this rate.

The loud buzz of a phone goes off in the room. Heavy vibrations come from the left pocket of Baekhyun's black slacks, warmly pressed against my thigh. He pulls it out without breaking eye contact, but the sight of a child out of the corner of my eye draws my attention. My heart quickly sinks at the realization that…

This kid looks just like the man next to me.

"Hello?" Baekhyun hums, closing his eyes, a peaceful expression forming on his features until they snap back open. "What did you say?" He breathes, straightening up, face going pale the longer the person's muffled speech filters through the phone.

My eyes shift back and forth between him and the blank screen of his phone, the image of that child still circling around my mind. Who is he? Why is there a picture of a child that resembles him so much on his phone?

Baekhyun and I never really talked about his family, despite him meeting mine. I just assumed that it was a touchy topic or something, so I never—

"I can't—I can't," He grits out, abruptly leaning away from me, knuckles white from his tight grip on the device. He roughly runs a hand through his hair, growing more agitated by the second. "My schedule is packed for the next two weeks. I won't be able to..." He goes quiet, listening as his brown eyes drift over to mine. The nearly blank look in them makes my heart race, and not in a good way.

"I understand," He mutters, ending the call.

The silence that stretches out in the space between us while he re-pockets his phone is unbearable. Even more so with the way he seems to avoid my eye, crossing his arms over his heaving chest; a faraway look within his dimmed brown orbs.

It takes a few deep breaths for me to dare to say anything, reaching out towards him only to lower my hand back to my lap, curling it into a fist. "...Baekhyun?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps up, blinking a few times before meeting my gaze. The unfamiliar daze in his tired eyes is worrisome, "Yeah, baby?"

"That…" I bite the inside of my cheek, not sure how to go about the question I'm dying to ask. Baekhyun rarely gets like this—he gets angry, yes, but to reach this extent of...rage? I only recall witnessing it last fall when I had my phone off all night, and that one time I almost sliced off my thumb while trying to peel potatoes. Multiple chirps of his phone has my eyes darting back down to his pocket.

Baekhyun follows my line of sight, realization dawning on his features. "Ah..." He nods, adam's apple bobbing in his throat, smiling a little before reaching out for me. "Sorry about that, my love."

"Who was that?" I try my best not to seem stiff when he pulls me into his arms, but by the way his smile falls off his face, he already knows.

"My brother," He mumbles, pressing kisses to my forehead, gathering me closer despite the protesting squeak of our chairs.

"And the kid?" I look at him dead in the eye, leaning back regardless of the frown forming on his face.

"Hmm?" He tilts his head for a moment, brown eyes soon widening. "Oh! That." His sheepish smile is borderline guilty as he ruffles his hair, uttering quietly, "That's my nephew. Isn't he adorable?"

Nodding slowly, I hum, turning to poke aimlessly at my cold food. "Looks just like you."

Baekhyun's arm tenses up under my hand. He pulls the phone back out of his pocket. "You mean his father. See?" After a few swipes of his finger, he holds it up; the device displays an image of the little kid and an older-looking version of Baekhyun. "Baekbeom and I got confused a lot growing up."

Uh-huh... My heart squeezes uncomfortably in my chest as I twirl a chopstick around my plate. "Why do you never talk about them?" I whisper, taking a peek at him.

"Why don't you ever ask?" He shrugs, lips twitching—an almost annoyed tone in his voice.

"O-Oh well..." The painful throb in my chest is immediate. I grit my teeth, lowering my head and pushing away from the table. "I'll go wash the dishes-"

"No—wait." Baekhyun grabs my wrist, gently pulling me to him. "Come here." He whispers, wide eyes flickering all over my person.

"The chair's gonna break," I mutter, avoiding his eye, reluctantly sitting on the edge of his lap.

"Shh—baby." His voice has taken on that soft comforting timbre he reserves for dreary nights and hushed calls between meetings. His strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me further into his warmth. "Look at me, please?" He tucks a finger under my chin, coaxing me to face him.

Shaking my head, I keep my eyes down on my hands, fully content with examining the state of my chipped nail polish instead.

Baekhyun sighs after a while. "I'm sorry," He mumbles, hugging me to his chest, nuzzling his nose into my hair. "I had a long day and shouldn't be taking it out on you."

"And I cooked for you." I huff quietly, crossing my arms. "Next time I'm making food for myself. You can stick to your precious takeout."

"No," He whines, hiding further in my hair. "I want your food. Your cooking is the best."

"You only had one meal." I roll my eyes.

"And I want them all." He pulls back, cupping my cheek in his hand, staring deep into my eyes. "I want all of you."

There's no holding back the smile that automatically forms on my face, but his words do nothing to ease the lump in my throat or the burn of his actions. No amount of butterflies in my stomach can hide the fact that... there are parts of Baekhyun's life that he refuses to share with me. But there's no point in getting upset over something I've known for over a year, is it?

Baekhyun peeks over at me mid-bite. "What?"

"Nothing," I murmur, breaking out of my daze, mustering up a smile. Gently wiping away a grain of rice from the corner of his lips. "You're just so cute, I bet you were adorable as a kid."

"Mmhm." He nods nonchalantly, though his reddening cheeks are a dead giveaway. "Our kids will be lucky."

I splutter, damn near dropping the glass in my hand. "Baek!" My light slap on his chest does nothing to disturb his laughter. "Stop playing, I'm still upset."

His chuckles evaporate in an instant. "I'm not." The serious tone of his voice mirrors the determination in his eyes. "I mean it."

My eyes widen, "Oh..."

"Do you ever think about it?" Baekhyun's voice barely reaches a whisper, he meets my eyes with a bashful expression before looking away. "Having kids, I mean."

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" He breathes, wide brown eyes focused on me. The utterly surprised look on his face is refreshing to say the least.

I nod, choosing my words carefully, "I wouldn't mind 2, 3, 4 mini me's."

"Four!?" The chair creaks as he leans back in astonishment. If his eyes were wide before, they are the size of saucers now. "Are you mad, woman?"

"No! I just-" It's hard to formulate words with his fingers mercilessly tickling my sides. "Stop." I groan, laughing, batting his hands away. "Can't I dream about having a bunch of cute kids?" I shrug, looking away. "I dream big, so what?"

"Nothing." He smiles, bright orbs dancing, softly squeezing my waist. "Keep dreaming, baby."

"Mmhm." Relaxing against him, I wrap my arm around his neck, giving him a look. "What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't 'hmm' me." His widening smile is contagious, I just want to kiss it off of him. "How many kids you want?" I murmur, picking lint off of his dress shirt, peeking under my eyelashes at him. He stays quiet as I gently curl his hair around my finger, "Go on. Spill."

"Doesn't matter," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to my palm, picking up his chopsticks again.

"Really?" I arch a brow, not the least bit convinced. "Are you sure? I bet you want two."

"Nope." The word comes out muffled around the cheek-full of food in his mouth. Even his audible chewing is adorable and attractive.

I scoff in disbelief, smiling a little with a tilt of my head, resting it on his shoulder. "How many do you want then?"

"Doesn't matter the number or gender," He shakes his head, neatly setting his chopsticks down on his empty plate. "I just want them." He peeks at me, "With you."

My brows raise in surprise. "Thinking ahead, are we?"

He shrugs, a smile quirking at his lips. "I like being prepared."

"You know life is unpredictable, right?" I mutter, narrowing my eyes at his cheeky expression.

Baekhyun smiles sweetly, pulling the collar of my oversized shirt off my shoulder, brushing his lips over my skin. "Then I hope life predicts me with you."

It takes everything in me to hold in a gasp, tangling my fingers further in his silver locks. "What are you up to now?"

"Making it up to you." He leaves a trail of soft smooches up to my collarbone, nibbling at the sensitive skin, gently digging his fingers further into the swell of my waist.

"Making it up..." I mumble, melting into him, resting my hand over his heart. "How exactly?"

"Well." He pulls back with a tiny grin, biting his lip, pure mischief swirling within his sparkling eyes. "There are many ways my mouth can apologize..."

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: What is Baekhyun up to now? I swear he grows more complex by the day. Do I write the fic or does the fic write itself? (>.<) let’s not talk about the filth that leaves his mouth (<.<) *coughs* 😳🔥🌹 onto part 2 we go~

#baekhyun smut #bbh-net #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #baekhyun angst #Six Phases

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loominggaia · 3 years

Text

Fanfiction: New York (part 6)

Anon has submitted part 6 of their fanfiction “New York”! I’m placing it under the cut. If you want to read the other parts, check out the fanfic tag.

Their food arrives and the conversation settles down. Kimi take out here phone and takes a picture of her food. The two notice this, they already figured out those weird devices called “cell phones” could both call and take pictures, especially when people where asking about their “costumes” and asking for pics. Alaine basked in the attention where Lukus just scoffed it off. They asked why she needed a picture of her food and that’s when Kimi introduces them to Twitter.

Alaine was mesmerized by the idea of social media, Lukus just scoffed at it. While scrolling Kimi found a video that was going viral, a video of some racist old guy going off on a young black man and someone in what looked like some weird elf costume. Kimi just frowned, feeling bad for the poor kid but then our pair got a glance of the video and their jaws dropped. They reveal they know the two in the video, friends of theirs and are both shocked and pissed watching it.

They thanked Kimi for the food and got up to leave, they needed to find Issac and Jeimos to see if their alright. Kimi showed them the rest of the video to reassure them, seeing a young black women coming to their rescue and tear into that old mans hide. This did little to ease their fears, they needed to find them and make sure they didn’t get into any other trouble. Out in the outskirts Elska was stalking the woods, doing everything in her power to find her captain.

Pushing her way threw the trees and brush the centauress tried her best to keep out of sight on her quest to find her captain, with little success. Having already scared away a group of homeless people and two joggers, these stupid humans seriously acting like they have never seen a centaur before. They haven’t but that was irrelevant to her. One thing Elska noticed while walking the woods was an abundance of trash, paper and plastic litter and old tin cans scattered all around.

This pissed her off to no end, each discarded wrapper and bottle just making the centauress angrier and angrier. Why do these humans disrespect their world so much? They already destroy with their cities and machines but to throw their waste on the ground so carelessly! Do they know no respect or love for their Gaia ?! She already didn’t like this world for stealing Evan, for the massive ugly looking cityscape and this just cemented this place in her mind as zareen 2.0.

She saw the litter was getting worse and worse the further she went, a loud noise was starting to manifest as well. She followed the noise and found the source of the trash trail. A group of human teenagers surrounded a noisy box, laughing and drinking. Smashing their bottles on the ground and tossing food wrappers to the side without a care in the world. Elska was appalled by this display and nostrils flaring deciding to teach them a rather forceful lesson on why not to litter!

Elska came charging out of the bushes, aiming for the first teen she could grab. The teens went from laughing to screaming when they saw this hulking monster came barreling right toward them at high speeds. One lanky boy tried to run but was no match for the centauress, picking him up and loudly threatening the boy, making sure his friends could see this too. She yelled at him, asking if he though disrespecting the land was funny, if he thought himself to good to care for his home?

The boy kicked and flailed in her grasp, pure fear taking over as he tried to escape the angry horse women’s grasp and begged her not to hurt him. Her voice booming, face twisted with rage as she yelled at him, his friends having either bailed or stood paralyzed in fear at this display. A distinct smell of urine filled the air as she continued to berate him for polluting the land. Ending her lesson by forcefully shoving his face into a pile of his own trash, she let him go.

She barked at the downed teen that he’d better clean up his mess or else. The terrified teen obeyed and with one angry glare the others joined him, picking up all their filth without a word, too terrified to say anything. Having packed everything into their bags they flee from the monster, her making one last threat as they ran. Yelling if she ever caught them littering again she won’t hesitate to brutalize them. Seeing it was getting late she made her way back to base, hoping for good news.

Early that evening the crew had all returned to their makeshift hideout. Lukus and Alaine where glad to see Issac and Jeimos okay, telling about the video. Elska returned not long after and the crew shared their news of the day, not one of them had anything to report on Evans whereabouts. Dinner was the fast food they brought back, having gone cold by now. Well “food” was abit of a stretch, they could literally see the grease leaking out of the bag!

Deciding it was better then nothing they ate the greasy, cold fast food anyway. Zeffer woke up and greeted the crew, asking if they had anything to report on Evan and was pissed when they said no. A team meeting was held after dinner before Zeffer left talking about the oddities of this world. It became clear they where gonna be here for the long haul and they where gonna need afew things to blend in, street cloths, id’s, phones and most importantly, money.

I’m always excited to see new parts of this fic in my inbox! Anon’s got me on the edge of my seat. You’re really nailing the characters’ personalities perfectly, I love it! Alaine taking to social media, Lukas hating it, Elska flipping out about littering, Zeffer stressing about Evan, they’re all so on point! Can’t wait to see more.

TO BE CONTINUED...?

#looming gaia #fanfic

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

Birthday

[Chris Evans x Reader]

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: a start to the spooky season inspired fics!

Your guests pile into your home for the party of your life. Another year spun around the sun with many more to come, you saved no expense to ensure your time was spent partying it up as if tomorrow would never come.

The DJ you hired keeps spinning your favorite tracks back to back so you barely have time to make it to the door and greet new guests before your new song would pull your body back to work on that beat with a deep arch in your back.

“Yo, could the host please make they way to the DJ booth please?”

You steady your drink as you snake through the vibrating bodies that catch the contagious rhythms bumping from the speakers.

You shout in his ear, “Hey, Colgate! What’s up?”

He makes a quick song transition with air horns before answering. “I heard somebody was finna call the cops cuz of the noise. Are we about to wrap this thing up or what?”

You look through the crowd suspiciously but the DJ calls your attention.

“It ain’t no one here, it’s a neighbor.”

You nod, “I know. I figure. But no, we won’t be stopping a damn thing tonight. Let them come! It’s my fucking birthday, so play that shit loud and fuckin turn up!”

The DJ shrugs, turning the beat up even louder and letting the bass boom through structure holding your house together. This night would not be interrupted for no one if you had anything to do with it,

As you gulp the last of your drink, you feel like something is off, holding your head as your mind starts to get hazy.

“Hey girl, there’s someone at the door for you. You want me to get rid of him?” a friend of your offers.

You shake your head, taking a deep breath. “No, no. I can handle it. I kind of expected it in a way.”

They nod. “Ok. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. You know what to do if you need anything.”

You thank them, heading for the front door. When you step outside, the cool air wafts around you as you look around and see him standing in the driveway, hands in his pockets and head hung low looking over at you.

You cross your arms up defensively, refusing to take his puppy dog eyes as a means to soften our heart.

“I thought we broke up,” you start.

“”Is that what I said?” he asks, feigning confusion as he grips his chin in thought. “I don’t recall those exact words.”

You stand your ground. “SO what are you doing here Chris? You came to make a fool of me some more on my night?”

He takes a turn at crossing his arms. “Now I made a fool of you? Sweetheart, no one felt more like a fool in our relationship than me.”

You scoff, standing in front of him from a distance now. “Well that’s what every girl wants to hear. I made my man look foolish to be with me, ladies and gentlemen!”

“You know what I mean! Stop twisting my words!” Chris exclaims.

“The day that what you say makes sense is the day I stop twisting them around, as you say.” You look him up and down with disdain before rolling your eyes.

Chris takes a deep breath looking towards your house. “You got a big party going on in there.”

You shrug. “It’s a milestone, so I wanted to make it special. No one else was going to do it for me.”

“If you gave me another chance, I could do that for you, but you won’t give me a chance.”

“What chance is there to give!” You shout out loud, your voice carries down the block. “You don’t want the life I live Chris. You made that abundantly clear that night of the full moon? You looked at me like I was a monster when all I ever wanted was for you to accept me and you tricked me into believing that was possible.”

“Can you blame me for being caught off guard? I thought that you were going to tell me you were a virgin or a recovering alcoholic, but then you go and-”

You hold a hand up. “Shut up!”

Chris claps his hands in frustration, testing his body away from you with disbelief. “That’s what I’m saying! How can you make an assumption of me when you won’t let me-”

“Shut the fuck up Chris! Cops are coming.”

He listens. “I don’t hear…”

A couple seconds pass until the faint squeal of a siren begins to build.

You roll your eyes. “Dammit! Dealing with you, I forgot about figuring who the fuck called the police on my party.”

“Goddammit. I’ll stick around in case of anything.”

You give him a stank look. “No, you may leave. You’re dismissed actually.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Chris says.

“I don’t care what you do but you have GOT to stay out of my business! Especially when it is not yours anymore.”

“It will be my business,” he says under his breath but you catch every word. You see the red and blue light bouncing off the neighborhood surroundings and prepare yourself for the confrontation. As a squad car pulls up, they silence the siren and step out of the car. Two white men step out, hand near their comfort zone.

“What’s going on here tonight?” one asks.

Chris starts the conversation. “Hey guys, it’s my girl’s birthday tonight and we just decided to have a night with some friends to celebrate.”

“Ahh. How old are we, miss?” he asks.

Chris parts his lips before shutting them quickly to look to you.

“A lady never tells their age, sir,” you say with a chill tone.

He smiles at his partner, who looks less amused. “I guess if I ask for some ID that would clear that notion up, wouldn’t it?”

Chris starts again, “Officer, is there a reason you’re questioning her? For God sakes, it’s her birthday!”

“Chris, be quiet,” you hiss at him.

The officer puts his hand on his gun but not out of the holster. “We have every power to question anything we expect to be suspicious.”

“Thing?” you whisper to yourself.

“We will quiet down, if you’re here to warn us, that’s no problem. Sound good?” Chris offers.

The officer remains steadfast. “I already asked for an ID. If I ask twice I will consider this a resisting.”

“You’re damn right it’s resisting. This is a joke,” Chris retorts.

“Chris, if you say another fucking word, I’ll your tongue out myself! Officers!” You demand their attention as you speak to them slowly. “The music is not loud enough to hear from the street and therefore your time is being wasted here. Please go back to your cars and resume your evening elsewhere.”

They stand frozen for a few seconds before taking a relaxed stroll back to their vehicle and driving away. You take a deep exhale, hearing the music in the house pause. You look to your house and see a few people standing outside the door.

“Everything good, madam?” one asks.

“It’s fine! Thanks for checking!” you call back with a wave.

“Shame, I was hoping for a dinner party. Is he part of it?”

You look back to Chris, who still seems to be doing mental math. “No, not the dinner part, anyway.”

“Ugh! You never share!” They slam the door and commence the party in full force.

When you turn back to Chris he starts to work it out.

“Does this have anything to do with what you said on our date during the full moon?” Chris asks slowly.

“Kind of, yes,” you say hesitantly.

“They all know?” he asks.

“They all are a part of my brood so, they definitely know.”

Chris goes quiet, nodding and looking off at the ground. The sickening feeling you got earlier comes rushing back as you start to walk away, but his hand grips your arm quickly.

“What are you doing?”

“Going back to my party,” you say, ripping your arm loose. “People who understand me are there.”

“And I don’t? I just came over here to make amends and seen you mind control two fucking cops to go away and I’m still here!”

“Then why did you react that way before?” you ask quietly.

Chris fumbles with his jacket nervously. “I never wanted to let you go for something that is essentially who you are. You trusted me enough to show me and I want to be receptive. It just caught me off guard, but I wasn’t going to reject you. You rejected me, remember?”

You turn away. Despite him being human, his eyes had a pull that could knock you off your feet if you focused on them. Chris tries to catch your gaze, bending down in front of you.

“Yes, I did. And maybe I...got scared too,” you say, kicking a shoe in the dirt.

Chris snickers, opening his arms wide. “Happy birthday, babe.”

You look up at him with annoyance, all while falling into his chest as his big arms wrap around your back for an uplifting bear hug.

“If you’re here for my birthday, where is my gift?” you look up at him patiently.

He loosens his grips on you while he thinks. “Does an ex get his ex a present on her birthday?”

You nod. “I like presents from my exes. They are truly the best gifts.”

Chris chuckles. “So if I don’t want to be an ex anymore…”

“...then you owe me a big gift, yes. What’s not clicking?” you snort laughing in his face as you push him back.

Chris sits back on his car. “How about this. If you kiss me and you still want to be my ex, I will give you whatever big gift you want.”

“Anything? Be specific, because I’m sure you have a budget.”

“Ouch!” he holds the left side of his chest in theatrical pain. “No, I mean anything you want.”

You meander his way, holding your hands in front of you. “I started this night with every intention of forgetting your face and every memory attached to it.”

“That can still be arranged,” Chris says in a snide tone.

You rest your hands on the hood of his car, right on either side of his thighs. You closed the distance between the two of you so fast, he caught himself with his elbow before falling directly backward.

“But I will play your game if in the end I am getting something I want out of it,” you whisper into his face.

He takes one side of your face, eyes twinkling with cautious care as he pulls you into him, resting your mouth on his. His smell, his touch, his lips welcoming yours made you buckle over him as you slowly melted on top of him. Your leg half straddles him as your hands push into his chest, submitting himself to the weight of your body as he deepens the kiss. You feel your passion building as you search under his shirt for the warmth of his skin and he could provide but stop abruptly looking down at him as he smiles.

“And?” he asks.

You take a pregnant pause, pulling your hand from under his shirt. “I don’t feel anything.”

Chris’ face screws up. “What?”

You stammer, “I mean...I don’t want to get back with you. I really don’t.”

Chris’ eyes roll back in frustration. “Then what do you want?”

You cup his face, sliding your hand down his well trimmed beard and over his Adam’s apple.

“I just want you to look me in the eyes...and relax your neck.”

Chris stares at you a moment, gaze glazing over as your directive reaches him. You feel his muscles relax under you as his heart rate slows under your fingertips.

“I’m sorry this one will have to show, but just assume it is a cut from shaving.” You unhinged your mouth as you sink your fangs into his neck, enjoying the hot flow of his rich blood filling you up. He gasps, gripping your waist at first from the initial puncture then letting out a long labored groan as his strength is drained.

When you finish, you lick the remnants from his neck, kissing his wound for good measure as you sit up satisfied.

“You’ll wake up in 5 minutes, go home and sleep. When you wake up, you’ll meet me at a park for the first time and we will go out on a date.”

You slide off of him, looking at him with pity. Such a big man taken down yet again by you.

“You’re still keeping him alive?” A voice from the house calls.

You smile down at the unconscious Chris. “I like him. He’s fun.” You look back at your partymate. “You’re just mad you can’t keep a supply for yourself like me!”

They hiss at you. “You are so tired. I like my meal hot and fresh while you’re stuck on last week’s leftovers, who will only become more obsesses with you, the more you feed if you recall! Happy 290th by the way!”

Just then Chris began to stir. You trot your way back to the house, checking back at Chris one last time from your front door. You swear next time you’ll treat him better. Too bad he tastes so good.

#chris evans fic #shakafic

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siempre-pedro · 4 years

Text

Should I Tell Her?

Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Colleen is reveling in her new found confidence after Javi comments on her nails. She messed with the wrong woman after she starts giving “friendly” advice to you.

A/N: Colleen babe I am so sorry I am doing this to you. You don’t deserve this “villain” card. I just had to do it.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Kinda like back in high school when that cute senior boy would say hello to you once and you were hooked? Made you believe that he liked you? Yeah, that's how Colleen saw it. You were there the day Javi waltzed into your shared office with the woman and charmed her to get what he wanted. Friendly, but charming and oh boy was the poor woman hooked. You thought nothing of it originally, Javi flirted to get what he wanted regularly.

"Y/N!" Colleen perks up when you walked into the office a few mornings after the encounter. A little too cheery for 8:30 in the morning, you offer up a polite smile and put your small white bag on your desk "Look, look, I got my nails done again," she announced pointing her hands down to show off the deep purple color of her manicure.

"Cute, did you go to that place down the street?" You ask, taking your morning apple out of your bag. Colleen nods and cocks her head, her lips pouting.

"I'm sure Javi will notice." Your eyebrows raise, almost surprised at her words. She was giddy and excited about the future interaction that they might face. You touch the cold apple to your lips, tapping it gently, was now the right time to tell her? Nah, it probably wasn't going to happen again.

The sounds of loud chatter from the distance were making their way to the office, a conversation of having terrible Spanish made you laugh. Pena and Murphy entered the room, looking at each other with boyish smiles on their faces. "Morning guys, how can I help you?" Colleen asked over-enthusiastically making you roll her eyes. Javi places his hands down on her desk and looks at her paperwork.

Taking a bite you watched her lean into him, God you wanted to choke. "I just wanted to say thanks for the id, it really helped," Javi thanked her graciously and tapped his knuckles on her desk. He stood up straight and started to walk off with his partner. The agent offered a quick good morning to you as he walked past your desk.

You waved your hand at him nonchalantly and sat back in your brown leather chair, unamused. Colleen sighs and turns to you, sympathy etched on her face as she watched you eat. Your Y/E/C catches her gaze in your peripheral view and slowly start to turn your eyes towards her.

Taking another bite of your apple she starts to speak "I'm sorry that happened, Y/N."

"Sorry for what?" You ask confused in between chews.

"Javi saw you with food in your mouth," she says, "I know you have a crush on him."

Her words made you choke on your apple, roughly coughing into your elbow and putting the remainder of the fruit on your desk. "E-excuse me?" You ask in shock, your cheeks went red from the choking, not a blush, make no mistake!

"I see how you look at him, Honey. Maybe next time don't have food in your mouth, I'm so glad I didn't."

You were stunned by the audacity of your co-worker's passive-aggressiveness "I don't have a crush on Peña" you defend yourself, which was partly true. You didn't have to have a crush on him.

Colleen crosses her legs and looks away from you, shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention to her computer. The audacity! Your mouth hung open as you watched her work. Maybe it was a good time to tell her.

The first comment snowballed into an almost everyday occurrence. You went about your day and she wouldn't hesitate to make a comment about you. God forbid you had a small hole in your stocking...you didn't tell her why you did. For the most part, you were able to block it out, sometimes it was even laughable. You didn't need him to notice you, but the brunette was desperate for the agent's attention.

12:30 rolled around a week later and you were starving, the golden-brown bagel sitting on your desk was calling your name, sitting there underneath the heat of your desk lamp. "Javi's coming don't eat that!" Colleen warns you as the two men walked in.

You grimace and pick up the bagel, taking a large bite out of spite "Y/N can you bring me those papers, please?" Javi asks as he stops in front of your desk. Murphy stands behind him, his watchful eyes watching Colleen glaring at you. What the hell was going on?

Swallowing, you nod "Yeah, they should almost be done printing. I'll be right there." You got up and made sure to take another bite of your snack, giving Colleen a scowl as you walk towards the printer, "I need carbs, Colleen."

"Does she know?" Murphy asks as you walk into their office, slapping the thick stack of reports onto Javi's desk. You shake your head and sit on the corner of your boyfriend's desk, your dress draping nicely over your knees.

"Nope," you respond, a small amused smile forming on your lips. Javi stood in between you and his partner, arms crossed over his chest. He was confused as you two looked at each other in shared amusement.

"You should tell her," Steve comments.

"I will if her little...," you sigh deeply "comments get worse. I have to get back to work, I'll see you guys for dinner later." Hoping off the desk, Javi came up behind you and gently caught you by the bicep. You stopped walking and turned to him, unconsciously leaning into him. It was a habit.

"Is something wrong, Hermosa?" he asks in a hushed tone, he brought his face closer to yours, catching a whiff of the expensive cologne you bought him.

"It's just Colleen, Javi. It's no big deal," you reassure him, the corners of your lips turning upwards into a kind smile. The man nods and lets you go, opening the door for you.

What you said wasn't a lie, the words didn't bother you but they did make you hungrier. They didn't bother you until the next morning when you walked in wearing a new dress, it was a form-fitting dark blue dress and you felt really good, your self-confidence was thriving.

You walked into the office with your head held high and Colleen looked at you with a big grin "Y/N! Oh my God, that dress! It's so cute," she comments. You smile at her and take a seat at your desk, turning on your computer.

Colleen was silent, but she couldn't help but notice you in that dress, she sighs and stops typing. Her hands folded in her lap, looking towards you with a condescending look that you could just slap if you noticed her.

"That's brave of you to wear something like that," she says with a smile, the fakeness dripping off every word. You pause and look up from your screen, but never at her.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah wearing something like that... I mean, you're brave with having that kind of shape." Your blood was boiling at this point, your jaw clenched so tight you were afraid of breaking it. "Javi's into a whole other woman, I think I fit his type... I think I'm going to ask him out."

It was amazing how someone could sound cold and mean and then at the very end of the sentence twist her tone into mock kindness. That bitch. It was all fun and games until she mentioned Javier and her body type. You take your fingers off the keys and rise from your seat. Seething anger apparent on your features. All fun and games until someone gets hurt. Ready to raise a fist to the woman, the sound of fast footsteps were becoming louder

"Y/N, I need your help in the evidence room, we got a lead on Escobar," Javi was quick, almost running past you as he spoke. The urgency couldn't be ignored. You simply shake your head at the women in front of you and take off after Javi.

Following him into the room, you start looking at the back wall where most of the new evidence was stored "What are we looking for. Photos? Call records?" the agent didn't answer, he was too busy locking the door and shutting the blinds.

"I need none of those things," he practically growls. He walks up behind you and places his large hands on your hips, spinning you around. "I've missed you, Mi Amor," his words are muffed, his lips attacking your neck. You let out a small breathy moan and look up at the ceiling.

"Javi," you squeak, grabbing at his olive green shirt. You just weren't into it, normally you were ready for him to take you on the desk behind him but Colleen's words linger in your mind.

Javier could feel how tense you were, he removes his lips with a small noise and looks up at you "Y/N, is something bothering you?" he asks, his deep brown eyes staring into yours.

You could have easily said no and let him carry on but instead, you push past him and put your hands on your hips "I-it's just Colleen and her misplaced confidence," you groan. Picking up a stack of papers only to slam them back down in frustration, Javi crosses his arms and leans against the metal shelving. "I should have just told her we were together! But no! She had to go and have the audacity to say I wasn't your type and she was!" You were almost yelling.

Javi looks down at the floor, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he listens to you rant. He knows this is his fault, he shouldn't have given her the attention he did to get information. Fuck. He looks back up at you, now pacing back and forth in the small room as you ranted, God you looked amazing in the dress he bought you. Perfection is what he saw.

He pushes himself off the wall and moves over to you, wrapping your figure in his embrace "Listen, Baby," he starts, pressing a scratchy kiss to your forehead mustache making your nose crinkle, "This is my fault, Y/N."

"No, Javi...I should have said something about us," you admitted, shaking your head. The man pulls back and runs his hands down your tense bicep

"Baby, you are my just my type...and so much more. There's no comparison."

"Promise?" Your eyebrows knit together, eyes starting to fill with tears. He steps a little closer and places his hands on your sides, fingers hooking the fabric and slowly hiking the dress up. The new cold feeling on your thighs sent shivers through your body.

"I promise," he purrs in your ear, "Why don't I clear off that desk and show you just how much my type you are, Hermosa."

The next morning you sat at your desk, turtle neck top covering up the hickies from the night before. Turns out Javi wasn't done after their time in the evidence room. Colleen wasn't giving you any problems, the silence was music to your ears.

Javier and Steve walked into the room, Javi's hands full with two coffee's and a pastry in a fancy bag barely handing on. "Colleen this is for you," Javi tells her cheerfully, handing her the basic white to-go cup. Colleen's face perked up and happily took it from him.

The agent didn't say anything after she said thank you, except offered a polite smile before walking to your desk "Good morning, Mi Amor," he greets you lovingly, his voice raising when he says the pet name. The woman next you glancing over at you two.

You stood up and smiled "Good morning, Javi." He holds out the more elaborate to go up and pastry "Is this from the place by your apartment?" you ask, looking at the little logo on the cup.

"Yeah I know you like it there, I hope you like it." Javi leans in and you know what he's about to do. The kiss was probably too much for the workplace, the way a small about of his tongue could be seen entering your mouth. Colleen's eyes were about to bug out of her head! Her mouth opened wide and eyes furrowed in anger.

Murphy coughed awkwardly and turned his head "We uh- should get to work, Jav," he warns.

Javier pulls away with a satisfied smirk "Have a good day, Ladies."

You watch them walk away, bringing the steaming hot cup of coffee to your lips, the smirk very present. You glance over at Colleen who was frozen with shock. The look alone wiped any thought of vengeance you had. You sat sipping your coffee happily, and she never spoke about the situation again.

#javier pena #javier pena imagine #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #reader insert

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creative-frequency · 4 years

Text

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Overtime

Word count: 2917 Pairing: Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader Notes: Looks like this is turning into a series and I’m okay with that.

Previous Part

My Writing Masterlist

“There is a package for you.”

The post droid offers the small box forward and your brows scrunch together in thought. “What package?”

“Spare parts designated as ‘2-5-7-K’.”

That kriffing–

It’s the new AC control panel and the connectors that needed changing because the old ones were so worn that the door could break any moment. Your face flushes hot just thinking back to the last time you were near that door. Inquisitor Cal hasn’t been bothering you since – not while awake at least. It’s amazing how gentle scenarios your mind can dream up about someone who freaks you out.

Because you’re a coward, you send a droid to find the Inquisitor and ask him when would be alright to invade his privacy in order to fix the door and the air conditioning. From the bottom of your trembling heart you wish he will be off-planet on a mission during the repairs.

The droid comes back with a breathlessly recorded message. It probably found the Inquisitor in his usual prancing grounds at the dojo.

“Tomorrow morning [sounds of a lightsaber hitting something metallic] should be okay.”

You don’t know if it’s good or extremely bad that you won’t have more time to mentally prepare yourself to enter his quarters. And he didn’t say anything about his own whereabouts, so you’ll just need to assume the worst. Great.

Cal is surprised to hear from you even if it isn’t directly but through a droid. It messes up his rhythm and he breaks the training droid in an attempt at doing two different things at the same time.

Even if you haven’t seen him in the past few days, he has been watching you. It’s painfully evident that you’re not the most aware of your surroundings when working. The uneasy feeling that sometimes overcomes you in the middle of doing something utterly trivial, it’s all his influence: The intense stare tingling in the back of your neck. The sudden cool air current, almost like a breath on your cheek. All of it originates from how his pulse quickens when he sees you.

Cal cannot explain it but it’s not all bothersome. It’s intriguing. He feels something completely new as his eyes trace the shape of your face, the edges of your body under the uniform and the movements of your fingers and steps. You always seem to mind your own business but still are well-respected and over encumbered with work around the Fortress.

His mind tangles from thinking about how to start a conversation. He doesn’t have a reason; he just wants to try to have some kind of social contact with you. He has felt the need for companionship, just someone to talk to, ever since he was appointed an Inquisitor and it became obvious that his brothers and sisters would have nothing to say to him – a former Jedi, the rising star of the Rebellion. The past means nothing to him anymore but some people don’t let go so easily.

Cal doubles his training efforts to have the next day arrive faster.

For you, the morning arrives too soon.

You can barely sleep a wink. The dark liquid in your morning cup drains right into your soul, but the substitute for natural caffeine works like a faulty speeder engine. The jumpstart energy spike never comes and looks like it’s one of those days when you’re going to need to push the proverbial speeder.

Dragging your legs while a happily beeping droid carries the tools and spare parts beside you, you make your way towards the infamous 257K. Each step brings you closer to doom and demise.

Swallowing helps nothing as your heart beats in your throat and your whole body trembles. You hit your knuckles sharply against the metal door, silently praying to every pagan deity you can think of. Seconds feel like hours as you wait for a reply or the door to open, but nothing happens.

You knock again, possibly a bit more lightly, unable to believe your insane luck.

“Looks like no one’s home,” you say to the droid. Stupid relief spreads all the way to the tip of your toes. While humming to yourself, you use the maintenance key card to open the door to the residential quarters.

The rooms the Inquisitors and the Fortress key personnel get are so much larger and fancier than yours. While you have only one room plus bathroom, this one has at least three different rooms, fully furnished and including all sorts of appliances. But then again, you should consider yourself lucky to have your own room instead of sharing quarters like most of the maintenance level staff.

Looking around with interest and criticizing the familiar Imperial-style decorations in your mind, you fail to realize that you’re, in fact, not alone in the room.

The droid next to you beeps. The shape of a ginger bed hair waddles into your field of view – shirtless and yawning.

You’ve never been more certain about a moment becoming your last of existence.

“Relax. You don’t need to be afraid of me,” the Inquisitor says with mirth in his tone and his eyes skim your immobilized frame up and down. His voice his still hoarse from sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, sir,” you peep in a tiny voice, barely forcing any sound outside your throat. There is absolutely no place on the man you can let your gaze befall, not the eyes, not the chest, definitely not on the lower body, so you scour the walls.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Cal assures. He feels something immensely satisfying at looking at you quiver in a mix of fear and respect, but it irks him when you refuse to meet his gaze.

You don’t believe any of his words but can’t help relaxing your shoulders.

“Thanks… I guess.”

Cal grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and settles to stare at you while emptying the drink. Seeing him shirtless doesn’t help to erase the filthy dreams from your memory. In truth, you’re genuinely sure they’ll start having some interesting plot twists from now on.

“So… I’ll switch the AC panel now,” you say aloud, pretending that the room is empty.

“Knock yourself out.”

You turn to eyeball the Inquisitor in bewilderment because of his choice of words.

“That’s what they say, right? It’s a figure of speech.” He sounds uncertain, but you nod slowly.

“Right, sir,” you say and decide to focus back on the job. The sooner it’s done, the sooner you’ll get out of this flytrap.

“You can drop the ‘sir’,” the Inquisitor says and hesitates for a bit. “It sounds weird.”

You try to wrestle your curiosity down but lose the battle. The Inquisitor earns your full attention with arms folded over your chest. Though his bare pecs instantly draw some of it, as well as the thin line of hair leading down into what you assume to be government-issued Inquisitorial pajama pants. They’re Imperial black and not at all complementing to his form. You bite your lip and feel the heat rise up your neck. So much for not staring.

“What should I call you then?” A bold question perhaps, but with each passing moment you feel less like he is going to run you through with a lightsaber.

He chuckles. “I’m Cal.”

You tap the name plate on your chest. “Well, this is me. I guess you would’ve already known that if you’d been interested in my ID last time.”

The mood in the room freezes. Cal looks at you with shock that quickly turns into a hint of a smirk. You wonder how fast he will catch you if you try to run. Learning to keep your big mouth shut in the presence of an Inquisitor would be a beneficial skill. It’s a wonder your career in the Empire is as long as it is.

You suck in a breath and stutter: “I-I didn’t mean–”

“You’re right.” He sits down on a stool by the kitchen nook’s counter and carefully places the almost empty water bottle on the surface.

“I’ll just start working now,” you say quietly and huff out the air in your lungs. Another dodged blaster bolt.

You try not to sneak glances at Cal while you work and he is hovering around in the kitchen and apparently making some breakfast for himself. The smell of real coffee soon fills the room and it’s so delicious that it almost brings tears to your eyes. It must be some really high quality stuff.

Cal miraculously lets you work in peace and the only sounds in the room are your short commands at the maintenance droid. You’re itching to turn and look at what the Inquisitor is doing, but resist the urge. Switching a thermostat unit and a control panel is not really a difficult or time-consuming task and you’re done in record time, eager to get out.

“Done already?” Cal asks as soon as you screw in the last piece.

“Yeah. I’ll take a look at the door next.” You wipe your brow even though the room is cool because of the broken AC. The unit starts immediately blowing warm air.

“Come here first. There’s enough for you too.” Cal taps the stool next to him and you feel the bottom of your stomach drop. You miss the slight shaking of his hand against the dark leather.

“Uh. I, um, can’t. I’m working. Sorry,” you mumble half of the words but the Inquisitor still stares at you with a persistent smile, looking almost like a normal person – a shirtless, strikingly attractive person with the ability to kill you with just his willpower.

He taps the stool again. “C’mon, I know you think it smells delicious. No one needs to know you’re taking an extra break. I’ve got your back, I swear.”

For some wicked, self-destructive reason, you find yourself trusting his words. Or possibly it’s the amazing scent of coffee that lures you slowly to plant your butt on the stool way too close to the half-naked Inquisitor and you don’t know what in the absurd situation makes you the most nervous.

“How do you know that? That I thought it smelled delicious?” you ask quietly as Cal reaches out to grab a cup, fills it and places it in front of you. The coffee is of the perfect mellow dark brown color and just inhaling the scent makes you quiver. “Thanks…”

Cal smiles as you dare a glance at him. “I just felt it.”

He really wants to add the loud flustered feeling you emitted the moment you realized he was in the room, but decides against it. Teasing you too much would be just cruel.

“I see,” you mumble.

“Try it.” Cal nods towards the cup.

You do as he orders and feel the flush of prickling warmth spread from your tongue to every inch of your body.

“It’s amazing.” You gawk at the cup. You’ve never tasted anything so good. The caffeine substitutes can’t even project a light to the real thing. You quite certainly would kill to be able to drink it every day.

“They call you the head of the droid army, right?” Cal asks casually just to make conversation.

You jolt at the comment. In any other situation it would’ve made you laugh.

He continues: “How long’ve you been here to earn a nickname like that?”

You take another sip of the coffee. Delicious. “A bit over two years. I was working on a Star Destroyer before but got transferred here.”

Cal hums in approval. “A promotion, then?”

“Yeah.” Working in a base is likely safer than being on a ship, so in that sense Cal is right. At the time it just didn’t feel like an upgrade to be dragged to a backwater planet like Nur.

You drink the coffee in an uncanny silence for a while and notice that Cal is doing nothing but leaning his elbows against the counter and looking at you. It’s disturbing and makes your already precocious pulse grow even faster. His cup is already empty.

“I’ve seen you train. It’s very impressive,” you say, unsure whether it’s an okay topic.

“Impressive, huh? Nice to know you think that way about me,” Cal teases and gets you flustered, again.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” you reply dejected. Your heart is running a mile a minute and he probably notices it with his stupid senses.

Cal leans towards you with an intense look in his eyes. You lean as far back as you dare without falling off the stool. Your eyes are torn between his freckles, lips and pecs. It’s all making you giddy and nervous.

“W-what?” you manage to splutter out.

“You’re just so… I…” He can’t finish the sentence. Why is he so fixated on you? It makes no sense but he lacks the motive to fight it. Cal’s gaze falls from your eyes to your lips and you’ve seen that look before.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” you ask rather wryly, hoping the tone will mask your inner turmoil.

“Do you want me to?” Cal looks at you intently, hiding his astonishment.

You feel his shallow breaths on your skin as he gets closer and chills run up your spine. The whirlpool of emotions spins faster, making you feel dizzy and surreal. You’re scared and intrigued by the fiery look in his eyes.

“…If you want to.”

This is not actually happening.

“Yes or no?”

Cal takes your chin and you suck in a short breath.

“I’ve got somewhere to be soon, so you need to hurry up.” The words come out sassier than intended and you relish at seeing the smile that spreads to Cal’s face. His eyes flit downwards to your lips and he stops himself from hesitating any longer.

You let out the most obscene sound when his mouth pushes against your slightly open lips and you know it’s bad but you just don’t care. His fingers move up your jaw and touching your hair makes another wave of shivers course through you. You take his free hand and press it onto your waist, which leads to him pulling you up and the stool falls behind you. You hum at feeling the heat of his exposed skin against yours. The kiss deepens and your tongue peeks into his mouth. Cal pushes you against the counter and you’re finally trapped in his clutches.

You’re making out with the one of the most dangerous things in the Fortress, possibly in the whole Empire, and for some reason it’s the best thing that has happened to you on Nur.

“Why mmh–” you try to start when Cal breaks the kiss to draw in a heavy breath, but he doesn’t allow you to finish another word. His cheeks are equally flushed as yours, heart beating loudly in his ears but you both ignore the signs of nervousness and let the craving for being touched overflow.

Cal’s hands wander further down and cup your ass, pulling your hips flush to his. Even if the Imperial pajama pants don’t give much of a show, they certainly allow you to feel it. The want and flustering unease makes your cheeks burn. Cal realizes you can feel his arousal and your pace breaks when he shifts awkwardly.

You pull away from each other, panting and eyes wide. Cal wipes his mouth to the back of his hand and you’ve never seen anyone look so hot.

For a fleeting moment, the fiery, challenging look in his eyes persists and you’re burning to respond to it. Few short breaths dissipate the heavy mood enough to restore some sense into you.

“Wow, I–, that was… um,” your mouth opens and closes, some resemblance of words coming out in jarring patches.

Cal is definitely as equally flustered. The maintenance droid, whose existence you both had already happily forgotten, beeps to signal that it’s almost time for your next task. You’ll be late of schedule because of this.

“Uhh, I should… go.” You motion towards the general direction of the door but can’t take your eyes off the man before you. The man, who you just kissed. Who you don’t know at all. Who is an Imperial Inquisitor.

“Ah kriff, I forgot I’ve got somewhere to be too,” Cal huffs, glances at the chronometer on the wall and runs a hand through his hair. His chest heaves with each breath, trying to pace its rhythm.

You don’t know what to say. Just like that, Cal disappears into the other room and you stand baffled next to counter. Maybe trysts like this aren’t such a big deal to him. There is still some coffee in your cup and it would be a shame to waste it, so you down the liquid in hasty sips.

Before you’re done piling your things onto the droid, Cal emerges from what you assume to be his bedroom in full Inquisitor garb and the sight makes you feel a tingle that’s not altogether shaped by fear anymore.

“I hope you can fix the door before I get back.”

He winks.

The sound of his lightsaber blade erupting straight into the door control panel elicits a short scream out of you.

Before you can recover from the shock and start screaming at Cal, he is already gone with a grin and you’re facing some serious overtime at work.

Part 3

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #inquisitor cal kestis x reader #inquisitor cal kestis #jedi fallen order #swjfo #swjfo fanfiction #star wars #my writings

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yyuangss-main · 4 years

Text

❝three : nothing we can do❞

You could have guessed Bakugo’s loss of quirk dealt with the famous troupe. Only a selected few knew Kurapika’s soul purpose when becoming a hero. Even Gon and Killua knew. The one hero capable of defeating the troupe was Kurapika. He never told you any information about them or other heroes. He once told you he didn’t because he wants to be the one to fight them.

“The Phantom Troupe?” Sero asked for the other four heroes in hospital beds. “We’re thinking of the same troupe, right?”

“The one that’s considered to be a myth.” You crossed your arms. “And they’re real. More real than you could ever imagine. It’s bad news that they took Bakugo’s quirk. No telling what they want and if they wanted to take his power.”

Bakugo, finally, stayed quiet. Clearly inside he was having a breakdown. It was odd not hearing his hoarse voice shouting. His entire world, collapsed just by getting his quirk taken.

“How do you know?” Kaminari piped up. He’d been quiet during the screaming as well, “You’re certain Bakugo’s lost his quirk?” Leorio flipped up a paper on the clipboard, scribbling something quickly.

“Here’s (Y/N). And this is Bakugo.” Leorio held up the clipboard to Kaminari, twisting his body to show Kirishima and Bakugo. “The circled parts are where their quirks are. When I touch someone and use my own, their whole body is showing me their injuries including their quirks. The quirks are in a dark blue color. (Y/N)’s quirk would be in her brain while Bakugo’s is in his hands.”

“You’re saying you didn’t see that blue in Bakugo’s hands?” You said.

“That’s right.” He pointed with his pin to Bakugo’s uncircled hands, drawing an arrow to the quick stick figure drawing of you. “Every single one of you has the blue shade still. Meaning, you still have your powers. If it were to be taken away, the blue would leave too.”

“Kurapika, all the Phantom Troupe info goes to you, right?” You sat on the edge of Kurapika’s bed. “That adds up to you knowing some of their abilities. Is Chrollo’s takeaway a long lasting effect or will Bakugo get his powers back?” Kurapika shut his eyes again.

“I can’t answer you that. Not now.”

“Please. We’re trying to figure a solution out for Bakugo, not fight the Troupe.” You scoffed. “We have more lives at stake. Like Izuku or Hitoshi.”

“I understand. More the reason why I can’t speak about it.” Kurapika stated, “My information comes from people who are risky dealers. Leads from police officers are confirmed by them. I’m not ready to release this information with anyone. That includes Leorio and you, (Y/N).” Leorio tsked from behind you.

“Stop being a dumbass.” Leorio growled. “Be selfless and help us.”

“Forgive me, Ground Zero.” Kurapika removed the hospital blanket, making sure not to hit you with it. “But I told you to get out. You didn’t listen to me.”

“Kur—”

“Pester me no further.” The scarlet color took arise in his eyes again. “I’ve made my choice and won’t change my mind. Leorio. If that’s all, I’d like to get my bill and leave.”

Kurapika’s motives hadn’t changed when you met him at U.A. It worried you. Having a passion or reason to be a hero is common, but once you’ve fulfilled it, what will happen? You’d spoke about that to Leorio several times. All that was left in the chain hero’s heart was hatred.

“(Y/N).” Kurapika said, now dressed in the hero clothes brought in from earlier. Your eyebrows raised up. “I will help get Ground Zero’s quirk back. They will not get away with this.”

You made all heroes in the hospital room to swear that they wouldn’t speak on Bakugo’s missing quirk. Kurapika promised he would share the information but today wasn’t the day. When returning back to your agency, you lied to Midoriya and told him they all turned fine.

“I’m glad they are.” Midoriya let out a relieved sigh, leaning back in his office chair. “All I have to worry about is this paper work for Gon and Killua’s work studies.”

“I’ll take Kil as my work study student. You can take Gon.” You picked up the yellow file, making your way to your desk and sitting down. Midoriya wrote on the paper, checking out if the typed ink was all correct. Killua’s ID picture stared back at you. There was a nagging feeling like when you waited to hear the condition of the others.

‘What were the true intentions of the Troupe? Bakugo must have been an extra. A ‘Well since I’m here might as well’ kind of thing. I doubt he is their real target. And if he was, they should know they’re going to get into a mess. A mess means more heroes involved,’ You bit your thumb nail, checking to see if Killua’s birthday was right. ‘Involvement means no more hiding. Basically, they didn’t mean to. Bakugo must have attacked Chrollo and the leader had no other choice and fought back. And that must be where the gigantification came in.’ Your fingers snapped, making Midoriya’s head twitch in your direction.

“You okay over there?” The freckles on his cheeks rose with his smile.

“Oh! Thinking!” You tapped the pen against your temple, ‘With the mistake, they’re bound to expect an attack. They know this, right?’

❝When a vicious gang called the Phantom Troupe takes away the quirk of Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero, heroes around do their best to protect him and ones in training. They call you in and give you four different options that give you four different outcomes.❞

TAGLIST IS OPEN! SEND AN ASK, A COMMENT, OR DM TO BE ADDED!

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hirvitank · 3 years

Note

Waste + 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 9, 11, 12, 13, 15

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I knew Death of the Outsider was coming, and as the Outsider was my favourite character I really wanted to explore the theory of him becoming human—the game hadn’t been released yet so we had no idea how it’d actually end, just that Billie and Daud were working together to kill him. Since the Outsider functioned as a sort of moral compass, I was very curious to try and imagine how his canon characteristics and biases would translate into a human version of him; how would he experience the world? How would he come to terms with such a humbling existence? Where did he come from and who was he? How would he cope with his own mortality, human emotion, the consequences following his choices in the Void? And most importantly; how had his being the Outsider affected his humanity? There was so much I wanted to see explored, things I feel the previous games hinted at but never elaborated upon. I wanted to write a psychological sort of story where we’d really be able to feel and experience whatever passed in his mind, and I tried my best to use my knowledge as well as my own experiences—flaws I either observed within myself or others, ideas, thoughts and feelings influenced by bias, depression, trauma, etc. When in art school, most of my inspiration came from the transience of things; my fear of death. I really wanted to take the subject and explore it through the eyes of someone previously immortal.

2: What scene did you first put down?

I think it was the original ending I wrote down first. I was supposed to write towards a particular scene, but somewhere along the way I’d decided to discard the idea entirely and opt for a happier resolution. I originally intended for the Outsider to die in the end, both to explore the feelings of those around him, as well as his own emotions accepting such a fate. I wanted a way to embrace death, as well as an output for all my bitterness regarding the subject; my anger at the ‘unfairness’ of it all, as well as my own trauma. I wanted to express loss, and in a way try and reveal the beauty of it. In the end, I had already found a way to deal with grief, and I also felt these characters deserved more; the fairness of fiction

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

That’s a REALLY difficult pick haha (does this mean literally a single line, or like a paragraph?). I’ll just share one of my favourite parts, because I can, and because it’s even more difficult to pick a single line from such a long story and I’m honestly horrible at making choices:

I heard the whispers of rats all around me, tiny feet scampering through the pipes; Billie’s gift tucked inside my shirt. My bare feet light, making little noise—as if I wasn’t really there. Perhaps I wasn’t. Perhaps I hadn’t been anywhere for centuries.

Up the stairs, cold stones. The walls decorated, grand and lavish. Empty corridors and lingering traces of hushed whispers—the guards had left their posts. She’d be there. How would that have made me feel? How should that make me feel? Almost, getting closer. My heart pounded in my ears, lungs greedily begging for more air, more—more. I felt like running. Strong currents of energy coursed through my veins, vibrated through bones and tendons. If I lost control, would I explode in a million pieces? Would the energy burst out and take my body apart, like the Void tearing into reality?

Who was I?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Honestly impossible to pick, I’ll just take this monologue:

“Anton Sokolov: sire to 14 children, but a father to none. A brilliant mind at a terrible cost, enlightenment in exchange for the dark depravity of the soul. Fingers that turn the times into a revolution of progress, the same fingers that touch upon women as they do the cold inventions they craft. Objects close to his heart—objects from his mind.

“The stench of alcohol in his bed, his clothes, his skin. Liquors and paints; on the canvas, dripping from his fingers, in the eyes of the beggar he found in the flooded slums of a place forsaken. The stench of rot still fresh on his teeth as he smiles at young Emily Kaldwin and tells her: ‘Don’t worry dear, here in the tower you are safe.’ Don’t worry dear, for I know the truest evil lies not within the high walls of Dunwall but within my hands and mind, within the flooded basement where a woman screamed and bled until she hung her head and closed eyes from which the dark paint still leaked—forever.

“The human body—like clockwork—taken apart in exchange for coin, for valuables. But those things Anton Sokolov values most lay outside of his intellectual grasp; for all the reasoning in the world he is but a cold, lonely man in search of a higher purpose that is but a lie of his own twisted imagination. A delusion of grandeur.

“How does it feel? One’s biggest regrets are but feelings of little consequence. The true disease is the sickness that allows one to enact true consequence on an innocent in the name of a self-prescribed fate. But I suppose that’s the curse of boredom. That, is the curse of your brilliance.”

5: What part was hardest to write?

The first chapter! There’s nothing more difficult than a set-up imo; establishing characters, pacing, setting and feel. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go, but there was still so much I didn’t know that I had a hard time choosing how and where to start. I think it’s one of the most heavily edited chapters, just because I didn’t have a clear grasp on the characters or plot yet. (Also smut, oh lord help me)

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

There’s the original ending, and I did at one point start on a companion fic to explore Emily’s pov, but decided I better focus on finishing the original instead.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

The fact that it’s finished (hurrahhhh!!), and the themes and subjects.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

My own sense of humour, I always cringe reading my own jokes so I can only hope it hits with others—I genuinely have no idea, and it’s hard at times to figure out where to draw the line.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

WELL IM GLAD U ASKED!! I’ll try and keep this short, but these are some of the songs that carried this fic, not even exaggerating.

1. Lover Don’t Leave, Citizen Shade

2. Happy Life, Roland Faunte

3. Painting Roses, Dresses

4. ID, Charlie Allen

5. High Tops, Del Water Gap

6. Love Song for Lady Earth, Del Water Gap

7. Battle Cry, The Family Crest

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

EVERYTHING. I had literally no idea about writing, apparently. I’ve had no classes in literature, nor have I ever been taught the common rules when it comes to writing. I got to learn most of it thanks to my friends who helped edit (shoutout to @onewhoturns again), and through trial and error. I absolutely loved the experience of it, and I’m so grateful for all I’ve learned, and all I will continue to learn in the future. It’s given me the basis for my own original writing which I’m trying to pursue, and which I hope will someday become reality.

Thank you so much for these! I’ve thoroughly enjoyed answering every single one. ♥

#anon #ask #emsider #waste #my writing #it’s almost 4 am but i wanted to finish answering these #im gon sleep now byeee thank u so muchhhh

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

So Close - S.S. XLVII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 47

Word-count: 6.3k+

A/N: apologies for disappearing friends!! i’ve finally finished writing all the parts for 6a so i should queue them up for regular content again soon (also i’m pretty sure i’ve used this gif before but don’t mention it)

Sleeping had always been tricky for you, but after everything you’d seen and all the sacrifices you’d made protecting Beacon Hills, sleep was either short and dreamless or long and full of nightmares.

That night, you dreamt of Stiles.

He was always at the edge of the picture, just out of your view, but you knew it was him. His laugh, his voice, his silhouette. The way the light caught on his hazy figure and sometimes you could just make him out before he disappeared completely.

He always disappeared, but he always made you promise to find him, and you always did. Stiles was starting to fade into the distance again when the alarm tone rang out. It tore you away from him, but not before his hand caught yours and he said, “I can feel you forgetting me.”

The alarm tore him away from you before you could promise to remember Stiles one last time.

When you were sure you couldn't dream of Stiles again, you pulled yourself out of bed and forced yourself to get ready for school. You were already on your second cup of blood-spiked coffee when Mason, Corey, and Liam showed up. You crapped them out for trashing your house but it was largely just to get a laugh and not because you were angry with them. This was the first morning that you weren’t angry, just empty.

Scott broke up your fun before you could get anything really good out of them, and then he asked what Liam wanted to show you guys.

Liam took you to the living room and pointed up at the ceiling where a dark stain rested. There was a dark spot in the center and black tendrils snaking outwards. Definitely not a water stain; it looked almost like tree roots.

“That’s how he got in?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Liam asked. He looked away from the ceiling to gauge Scott's reaction.

“It’s a Lichtenberg figure,” you said, still staring at the long tendrils that seemed to reach out for something. An image flashed through your mind: these same tendrils snaking up a neck, unusually dark against the pale, sickly skin. Tearing yourself away from the Lichtenberg figure, you folded your arms around yourself. “They, uh- they’re common in lightning strike victims.”

“You knew someone who was struck by lightning?” Liam asked. You felt his eyes on you and curled in on yourself even more.

“No, I-” You shook your head and sighed. “I think so, but I'm not sure ... I don't know.”

“Stiles,” Scott said when you couldn't. You nodded at him and he gave you an encouraging smile in return.

“You can also usually find charred spots like this on the ground after a violent thunderstorm,” Mason said, blissfully unaware of how crappy you felt and continuing the lightning-related thought process.

“So that’s how the Ghost Rider got in,” Scott said. He looked away from you and back to the Lichtenberg figure on the ceiling. “He rode the lightning.”

Liam caught your attention in your peripheral vision. “If they can use the lightning to get past the mountain ash … no place is safe.”

“What about the others?” Corey asked. He sounded panicked. “It’s my fault they’re marked.”

“We’ll find a way to protect them,” Mason said quickly. He looked over at Scott and Scott looked over at you.

“And we’ll find a way to get the others back,” Scott promised.

One of your phones went off and scared the rest of you out of your stupor. You promised to reconvene later on, and split up to head to school. No matter often it happened, it was still jarring to discuss the supernatural special of the week over breakfast and then have to sit through econ and pre-calc.

Still, your friends found you between classes and it was back to piecing together a way to defeat the big bad. Today, it was relics. Specifically, a student ID card belonging to a sophomore named Jake Sullivan.

“Wait, what’s a relic?” Malia asked.

“An object with a fixed associated to the past,” Lydia said. As she spoke, you twisted your signet ring on your finger. It was a nervous habit that you'd picked up whenever you couldn’t turn the Feliscore Arcade coin over itself. “Jake’s ID was left behind after he was taken, and Gwen found her sister’s bracelet on her bedroom floor.”

“How can someone be erased and still leave something behind?” Malia asked.

“A conservation of mass,” Lydia explained. She was incredibly patient with her explanations considering how near-constant they were. “The total mass of any isolated system remains constant.”

“So, even the Ghost Riders have a weakness?” Scott asked.

“And a relic would be proof that Stiles existed,” Malia said.

“And that we can bring him home,” you said, sounding more hopeful than you'd meant.

“Exactly,” Lydia said. “And I think I can find one, but Noah and Claudia-”

“I can take care of Noah,” you said. “Give me the ID and I’ll go talk to him, but I think you should go looking while I do.”

The bell rang and you had to split up, but you and Lydia texted until you settled on a plan. It was a shaky plan, but you needed to talk to Noah and Lydia needed to do her Banshee magic to find something that belonged to Stiles.

So, hesitantly, you borrowed the car from Scott after school and drove yourself to the station. Once you were there, your hand hovered over the key. Once you went in there, everything would change again.

You yanked the key out of the ignition and headed to Noah’s office.

Your explanation of relics was shaky - Lydia could have done it much better - but Noah followed along for most of it. There was only one thing that he was caught on.

“You want to search my house?” Noah asked.

“Yes,” you said. “I know it’s crazy, but if there’s any chance that Stiles left anything behind …”

“Why would it be there? At my house?” Noah asked.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands. The light caught on your ring. “Because I heard what Elias said after we left, and my house has really thin walls,” you said quietly. Noah looked confused, so you went on, “I heard what you told Scott about-”

Noah pushed the case file in front of him away and leaned forward in his seat. “About my dream?”

“About your memory.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please. The worst that can happen is that Lydia doesn’t find anything.”

Noah sighed and rubbed his face. “She’s already at my house, isn’t she?”

“Got there five minutes before I walked in,” you said.

“Dammit, Y/N!” Noah shook his head. “This is just typical. You and Stiles are always-” He stopped dead when he realized what he’d said. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

You pulled one of his chairs closer to the desk and put your hands out for him to hold if he wanted to. “I do it, too, sometimes,” you said softly. “I tell jokes that people don’t understand because they weren’t the ones I shared them with. Whenever I buy food, I buy a pack of Reese’s even though I don’t eat them. Seriously, you- you should see the stash I’ve got. They’re pouring out of my loose floorboard.”

Noah laughed. He pulled his hands away from his face and gave you a sad smile. “You know, last night I couldn’t sleep so I got up. Figured I’d do some paperwork. The files were in the back of my car so I- I went to the garage, and some junk had fallen off a shelf and I stubbed my toe on an old baseball bat. Without thinking, I yelled a name …” he took a deep breath. “Stiles.”

You smiled at him, trying to shove down the tears that threatened to spill. “The other day, Malia wanted me to promise her something, and I said ‘no matter what’ without thinking about it. She didn’t know what it meant but I knew that it was because it was something he and I used to say to one another.”

“Stiles,” Noah said.

“Stiles,” you repeated. “I’ve never actually said his name until now. It felt too, I don’t know-”

“Real,” Noah said for you. You nodded and he sighed again. “And that’s why you’re so determined to find something.”

You tapped the desk a few times as you answered, “Determined to find Stiles. This is just the first step.”

“Okay,” Noah said. He slid the ID back over to you. “Okay, Lydia can search the house.” Then he laughed. “Even though she’s already doing it.”

“Thank you.” You took the ID back and put it into your wallet. Somehow feeling more uncertain than when you came in but still comforted, you said, “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Wait, do you- do you maybe want to grab a cup of coffee?” Noah asked. He looked awkward. “I mean, if you have the time.”

“I’d love that,” you said.

It was an awkwardly lovely coffee date. Noah knew the ending to some of your jokes, and you made his coffee the way he liked. Although you didn’t explicitly talk about Stiles, you talked about your grades and the diet he had to go on to help manage his cholesterol, how Mel was doing at work and life at the station. It felt like you’d been doing this for years. Just catching up.

But then your phone buzzed and you had to go help Scott track down Gwen. Even after apologizing a dozen times and Noah assured you that he understood, you still felt guilty as you left him there with two empty coffee cups.

You rushed to the school, listening to Mason’s hasty explanation of how Gwen snuck out of the bunker and Okafur, Steinbach, and Wallace were never in the bunker to begin with. He needed to figure out a way to stop the Ghost Riders and your job was to try and keep him safe until he did.

It wasn’t that hard, considering that nothing was happening aside from the team getting absolutely destroyed on the field.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mason cheered as one of the players got knocked down to the ground. Everyone around you got mad at him but you tugged on his sleeve to get to sit with you again.

“Hey, what did you realize, boy wonder?” you asked in a low voice.

“The night of the party, Parrish showed up. The Ghost Rider seemed … scared of him, I guess,” Mason said. “And then I remembered the mural.”

“The Hellhound fighting the Beast,” you said slowly. “You think it’s related?”

“It has to be,” Mason said. He sounded more confident than before. “The Hellhound’s a harbinger of death and these guys … I mean, it has to be connected.”

As if on cue, thunder started rolling in the distance. Ignoring the pit in your stomach, you said, “Find Hayden and tell her to call her sister. I’ll make sure nothing happens here.”

Mason dashed off and, after a few minutes of alone time, the wind started picking up. Then the light rain. When the lightning cracked overhead, your eyes darted across the field.

Scott was staring at the sky. He pulled off his helmet as the light rain turned into a downpour. You raced onto the field as players started taking cover. Corey yelled that the Ghost Riders were there, but you couldn’t see them.

The ref was trying to get everyone off the field as you huddled the players together.

“Okay! We’ve got all three, right?” Scott asked.

“Scott, there were four,” you said. Both of you turned to count but you still only came up with three players: Gwen, Okafur, and Steinbach. You saw Scott grab Corey’s hand and did the same. You couldn’t kick the Ghost Riders’ asses until you could see them.

Your grip tightened as you watched one of the Riders drag Wallace off the field as he screamed for his life. Then he just disappeared into a small cloud of green smoke.

“Oh my god!” Okafur yelled. “They’re real! We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“Stay together. We’ll protect you,” Liam promised. He wasn't as confident as Mason had been.

“How?” Gwen asked.

You followed her eyes to the quickly approaching group of Riders. There were just three of them but you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against them. Scott told you all to run but the second you did, three more Riders showed up to block your path.

“Stay close!” Liam yelled, pulling the players behind him.

It didn’t help. They shot Okafur and he disappeared, just like Wallace.

Corey moved out of your grip but you could still see them. So could Scott. As one of the Riders readied their gun, you weren’t entirely sure whether seeing them was a good thing or not.

Liam tackled him before he could shoot but it was just an inconvenience for the Rider. He kicked Liam off of him. Scott jumped forward to protect him, but as soon as he moved another Rider shot Steinbach. He was gone.

“We can’t stop ‘em! Protect Gwen!” Scott bore his fangs at the Riders.

You did the same but you were so focused on the Riders that you didn’t notice Gwen slipped past Corey. The Riders shot her and she disappeared. In a few seconds, the Riders were gone, too.

The four of you stood in the field until the rain stopped, none of you managing to say anything.

“Hey,” you said to break the silence. The rain was clearing up. “Let’s go find Mason and Hayden. He might have an idea on how to end this.”

They nodded and you rushed back to the school. Mason and Hayden were fine. Parrish didn’t fight the Ghost Rider but it left them alone before disappearing just like the rest of them.

“Everyone from the bunker has been taken,” Scott said as he got off the phone with Malia.

“Everyone? How?” Mason asked.

“It doesn’t matter how,” Scott said. “Malia’s at the hospital and Argent’s been hurt. My mom’s with them.”

“I’ll go check on them,” you said. Looking over to Liam and the others, you added, “You guys get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Scott said with a nod.

You found Lydia at the hospital before you found Malia or your mom. She told you about Claudia’s frontotemporal dementia and how it should have killed her by now and you caught her up about the Ghost Riders taking everyone from the party.

The two of you found Scott and Malia before either of you got to talk about Stiles.

“Tell us you found something,” Scott said.

“I found out Claudia never had children,” Lydia said, dropping her eyes for a second. “So, Stiles can’t be her son.”

“What about a relic?” Malia asked.

Lydia shook her head and you looked down at your hands. You twisted the ring on your finger, so sure it was connected but not sure enough that it could be a relic. Tied to him, maybe, like Noah was. But not something that belonged to Stiles.

“There never was a Stiles, was there?” Malia asked, as gently as she could.

It was quiet. Scott broke it by saying, “It doesn’t even sound like a real name.”

“We have to keep looking,” Lydia insisted. Her voice was urgent - the kind of urgency she only got when something was driving her supernatural Geiger counter crazy. “Check the school records again. Or call your dad-”

Malia shook her head. “No, we’re fighting the wrong battle.”

“No, we’re trying to find Stiles,” you said defensively.

“The Ghost Riders came back and we still have no way of stopping them. Whatever they are, they’re real,” Malia said. She was one of the best friends you’d ever had, but she was also cold and fixated on survival. You understood, mostly, but right now it was annoying. “We can’t keep chasing someone who isn’t.”

“Maybe he’s not real to you, but the rest of us actually give a damn,” you snapped. There was a time when you would have felt bad for snapping at them, but this wasn’t the time to feel bad. This was the time to find Stiles.

“Y/N, he didn’t leave anything behind,” Scott said gently.

“Just us,” Lydia said, seeming hollow as she looked up again.

You shook your head and started walking away from them. “This is unbelievable,” you mumbled.

Malia grabbed your arm before you could get very far. “Where are you going?” she asked.

You spun back around and pulled your arm away from her. When you were this upset, her touch burned. “To call Isaac and Cora since you guys don’t care anymore,” you said.

“No one said we didn’t care, we just-” Scott stopped, unsure what to say. “We just can’t keep losing people.”

“I’m not losing anybody else,” you said. “I’m finding him, Scott.”

“Then let’s do it together,” Lydia said, grabbing hold of your hand. Her touch was cold, but it still burned. She gave you a smile and looked back at the others. “Please?”

Malia was reluctant. In the wild, coyotes didn’t have time to track down imaginary best friends. Still, she looked over at Scott before she told you that you were out of your mind.

Taking a deep breath, Scott looked over at you. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll keep looking.”

---

It turned out that while your definition of ‘keep looking’ meant that you’d skip school the next day and get together as a group to discuss everything, Scott’s definition was to go to school and act like nothing happened. In an effort to be slightly less confrontational, you’d gone along with his plan, but it didn’t make you happy.

As hard as it was to believe by your scowl at Scott’s goofy smile when he dropped into the seat across from you at lunch, there was a time not too long ago when you would have at least tried to hide your bad mood from him.

“Get an A on that psych paper?” you asked, stabbing your food with a fork.

“No. Well, A-minus but that’s not the point,” Scott said as he shook his head. He took a breath and leaned forward. In a fake whisper, he explained, “Lydia found something. Malia’s already checking-”

You pushed your tray away and grabbed your bag. “Then why are we sitting here? Let’s go.”

Scott laughed and led you out of the cafeteria and to the parking lot. At first, he didn’t want to explain where he was taking you because he wanted to see your face, but - after some threats to tell Melissa about how the car got that scratch on the bumper - he finally told you about Lydia bribing the tow truck driver. He stopped talking when you reached a powder blue Jeep.

Your heart ached as you tried to remember something, anything, about the Jeep or the person who owned it. You tried to remember Stiles.

When no memory presented itself, you said, “Well. This Jeep isn’t going to search itself,” and pushed past Scott to get to the Jeep.

It wasn’t filthy, just a little dust-covered inside and pollen-coated on the outside. To add to the abandoned feel, the radio was stuck on the wrong frequency and only played static. Ignore how wrong it felt for the Jeep to be like this, you opened the glove compartment and found a red rag, some take-out receipts, and a map of Eichen House. The radio cut out and you froze.

“Why’d it stop?” Malia asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lydia said. Despite her rough tone, she flipped the Master Switch on and off four times before saying softly, “But there has to be a reason.”

Because he was incapable of sitting in silence for more than three seconds, Scott started sniffing. Loudly.

Turning in your seat, you asked, “Did you catch a scent or a cold?”

“A scent,” Scott said and shook his head in an attempt to focus. “Ours. Mine, yours, all four of us.”

“Mine? I’ve never been in this Jeep before,” Malia said, sliding forward in her seat in the back.

Scott shrugged. “Neither have I.”

“Yes, we have,” Lydia said. “We just don’t remember it.”

Malia tilted her head to the side. “I thought we were done with that.”

“You literally promised me last night that we wouldn’t give up,” you said, doing your best not to glare at her.

“No, Scott promised you. I didn’t promise anything,” Malia said.

“Mal, could you for once in your life try to understand when something is important to someone?” you asked. You didn’t mean for the words to come out as harshly as they did, but they were out there and you couldn’t take them back now. You took a deep breath and looked away. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Can we please just keep looking?”

“I don’t know if there’s anything to look for,” Scott said. “Parrish checked the VIN number and there’s no record of an owner.”

“The Jeep didn’t just drive itself here,” Lydia argued.

Scott looked over to Malia with his ‘they’ve got a point’ face. It reminded you of an argument with Isaac back when he thought the twins were the ones killing people instead of the Darach. You couldn’t remember who the other person in the argument was, so you guessed that meant it had to involve Stiles.

“Oh, whose side are you on?” Malia asked exasperatedly.

Scott looked at you, then he looked at Lydia, and then Malia, and then back at you again. “I’m on everyone’s side,” he said eventually.

Malia and Lydia started arguing over whether or not Stiles was real again, so you continued your search of the glovebox to help tune them out. Your hands froze over the Jeep’s registration papers.

“Guys, I think I found something,” you said, not caring what you might have interrupted. You unfolded the paper and leaned closer so Scott could read over your shoulder. “It’s from 1996.”

“But there’s no name,” Scott said.

“Yeah, but look at the address,” you said. “It’s Noah’s.”

---

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Claudia said after reading over the Jeep’s registration papers. “I haven’t seen that Jeep in … almost eighteen years.” She looked over at Noah for confirmation and he nodded slightly.

“But it’s in your name,” you said. “You never went looking for it?”

“It was stolen.” Claudia shrugged. She was either a very good liar or she really didn’t know anything.

“Then how did it end up at the high school?” Lydia asked.

Noah shook his head and opened his hands. “Beats the hell out of me,” he said with his trademarked sigh. “I mean, that thing was a junker back in the day. God only knows who’d want it now.”

Something about how flippantly Noah talked about the Jeep tugged at your heartstrings. “Someone with a sense of whimsy?” you asked with only a touch of your usual venom.

“I- I guess,” Claudia said with another small shrug. “I don’t know, girls. Maybe somebody dumped it there?”

Stiles would never abandon the Jeep, you almost screamed. You let out a low growl that reminded you uncomfortably of Malia and took a breath to recover.

Lydia set an uncertain hand over yours to calm you down. She turned back to the Stilinskis and asked, “Is there any way to trace the history of the Jeep after it was stolen?”

“No,” Noah said, frowning at the idea of how that would even be possible.

“Can’t you check for fingerprints at the station?” you asked.

Claudia looked over at Noah and shifted slightly closer to the edge of her seat. Noah met her eye and sighed again. “Is this about Stiles?” he asked.

“Can you please just check the Jeep for prints?” you asked, doing your best to keep your voice even and detached.

“Don’t you girls think you’ve taken this far enough?” Claudia asked. She reached out for Noah’s hand as she asked, but it seemed less like a move of solidarity and more like a reminder that she was there. She handed the registration details back to Lydia with her other hand. “I don’t really know what’s going on with you lately,” she said to Lydia, “but maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mom.”

Instead of telling Claudia that she was way out of line, Lydia just pulled her hand away from you, dropped her gaze, and nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” she said quietly. She looked up again and flashed Noah a bright, dishonest smile.

“Hey, are you okay?” Noah asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Can you just …” Lydia shook her head. You knotted your hands together to keep from reaching out to comfort her. “Um, do you mind-” she pointed to the hall where the bathroom was.

“Of course. Take your time.” Claudia nodded. She didn’t even make it through her sentence before Lydia was on her feet and heading down the hall. Shaking her head, Claudia turned back to you. “You’re a good friend for being there for her, but be careful not to encourage Lydia too much,” she said. “You know how unstable she can be.”

You swallowed hard to keep from snapping at her. All you could bring yourself to say was: “Lydia’s a genius.”

“There’s a fine line between genius and insanity,” Claudia told you with a heavy look.

You’d been squeezing your hands together tightly to keep yourself grounded, but Claudia’s words made you squeeze so tightly that you could smell blood. “I’m going to go check on Lydia,” you said as you rose to your feet.

Noah called out to you but you told him it was fine and kept walking. You could hear him and Claudia whispering after you left; he thought she was too harsh on you guys, she thought you needed someone to stop enabling you, you stopped listening when you found Lydia slumped in the hallway crying.

You knelt in front of her and fumbled for her hands with one hand and cupped her face with the other. “Hey. Hey, Lyd, you’re okay,” you said gently. “We’re gonna find him, okay?”

“How?” she asked, voice tight through the tears. Her eyes darted down the hall. “How are we gonna find him?”

You faltered. A beat passed and you knew whatever you said next would sound fake. “I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find him. I promise we’ll find him, alright? No matter what.”

Lydia went still for a second. “No matter what,” she whispered. It sounded like a question when she said it. “Why are you saying that to me?”

“I don’t understand,” you said, pulling back slightly in surprise. You suspected the saying had something to do with Stiles, but you had no proof and it wasn't like Lydia could tell you anything for certain. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does,” Lydia said. She looked down the hall again and squeezed your bloody hand. “We need to go. Now.”

Lydia didn’t wait to answer any of your questions. She pulled herself up and basically dragged you out of the Stilinski’s house, apologizing for the intrusion and thanking them again for their time as if they’d actually done something helpful.

Once Lydia had safely buckled you into the passenger seat, she started the engine and pulled out of the driveway at such a speed that you were sure Noah would call you about the tire tracks. She explained, briefly, that she was having one of her feelings and you needed to get back to the school. To the Jeep.

You didn’t argue. You never argued with Lydia’s feelings, especially not when they had anything to do with Stiles. She seemed to be the only person who still wanted to find him, and you trusted that together you and she would find him.

It’s not that you expected to find Stiles sitting in the Jeep when you got to the school - even if a tiny piece of you hoped you would - but you weren’t expecting to find a tow truck driver trying to shake down Scott for more money.

“-Now I’m picking it up again,” the tow truck driver said as you and Lydia ran up to them.

“How much do you want? I’ll write you a check,” Lydia said.

“It’s not about how much. They want it out of here, okay? So it’s not up to me,” the driver said. He moved closer to the Jeep to attach it to his truck but Scott stepped in his way. Scott had never seemed intimidating to you - a byproduct of seeing him laugh so hard that milk sprayed out of his nose when he was five - but he looked intimidating at that moment. “Don’t make me move you, kid, okay? I’m hooking this thing up. And I am towing it away.”

Scott clenched his fist and you got ready to intervene, but Malia broke off a piece of the tow truck before anything escalated that far.

Malia handed the broken connector to the tow truck driver. “Your truck’s broke,” she said.

After some particularly nasty words, the tow truck driver stormed off and left your friends laughing in his absence. It was only a few seconds of laughter, but you felt a little lighter after a win - even if it was a small win.

“So what now?” Scott asked.

“I mean, he’s probably just going to come back in the morning,” you said. You looked at the Jeep over your shoulder and sighed. It looked so impossibly lonely in the dark parking lot. “Do you guys want to stay here for a while?”

“No,” Malia said, at the same time Lydia said: “Absolutely.”

Scott got that awkward look on his face when he had to choose between his friends. “Five minutes?” he suggested. “Just to make sure no one else comes back.”

“Fine,” Malia said begrudgingly. “But I’m not sitting in the back.”

“Deal!”

You and Scott sprawled into the backseat while Malia took the passenger seat and Lydia sat in the driver’s seat. Sitting behind the driver’s seat like this, you could almost picture Stiles sitting there. He always sat there, except when something was incredibly wrong or the time when he taught you to drive.

The memory of learning to drive was still fuzzy and disjointed in your mind, but that’s how you knew it was him. Stiles was in so many of your memories that without him it felt like your whole life was fuzzy.

You were still trying to piece together the fuzzy memories when a roar tore through your ears. A strained, agonizing roar. Whoever that roar belonged to was dying. You bolted out of Scott’s arm and clambered over him and the seats to get out.

“Did you hear that?” Malia asked. She’d been too uncomfortable in the Jeep after a few minutes so she'd stood guard outside.

“I think all of Beacon Hills heard that,” Lydia said.

“Who is it?” Scott asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think I recognized it,” Malia said.

Despite the very distinct and unexplained feeling that Stiles was human, Malia’s recognition sent electricity down your spine. “Let’s go find out,” you said, looking over at her for a second before taking off towards the preserve.

Finding whoever roared was clumsy. There was no scent and they hadn’t roared again since. You were still looking for the injured wolf when you tripped over the burnt body. Despite your badass shadow-wolf status, you screamed and scurried to your feet.

They let out a roar in response to your accidental kick to their ribs and you dropped next to them to check that you hadn’t just killed them. From the second you focused on them, you knew that it wasn’t Stiles.

“Hey, you’re okay,” you said gently. You reached out for his hand to take away their pain. Their hand wouldn’t open so you moved to their arm and started taking away their pain from there.

It hurt so much that you didn’t even notice that Malia and Scott got there until Scott put his hand on your shoulder and the burnt werewolf grabbed Malia’s arm. You pulled your hand away so fast that you took bits of burnt skin with you.

“Peter?” Malia asked.

He struggled to say something but nothing came out.

“Who’s Peter?” Scott asked.

“Peter Hale,” Malia said, not looking away from the burnt werewolf. He struggled again to say something. “My dad.”

“Your dad?” you repeated. Your voice ached from taking away his pain. “Peter Hale. That makes him Derek’s brother. I don’t- how could I forget Derek’s brother?”

A distorted voice broke through your internal crisis. “You were my beta first,” Peter forced out. His voice triggered something in Scott; a memory, you guessed. You didn’t remember anything.

Scott stuttered out Peter’s name. “He bit me,” Scott said. “How could I forget him?”

“How could I forget him?” Malia asked.

Peter looked more pained with the knowledge that Malia had forgotten him than when you kicked him. He looked heartbroken. He craned his head to nod at his hand.

“I tried to get his hand open but I didn’t want to break it,” you said quietly, moving around to try and see what Malia would find.

Scott took Peter’s pain away as Malia pried open Peter’s palm. Between the three of you, Malia got whatever it was and lifted it up.

A set of keys.

Stiles’ keys.

You snatched the keys from her and started running before either of them even had the chance to say anything. Nothing they could say could stop you from trying those keys in the Jeep, because you knew they were the key to more than just the Jeep. They were the key to bringing Stiles home.

Malia tackled you to the ground in the school parking lot and Lydia almost lost a hand trying to break you two up. Once again, the four of you piled into the Jeep, but this time you got in the driver’s seat.

Now that you were sitting there, key still clutched in your hand, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to try it. What if it didn’t work?

With an uncertain breath, you put the key in the ignition and turned it on. The engine sputtered. This wouldn’t bring Stiles home if you couldn’t get the damn engine to turn over. You kept turning the key and pressing down on the clutch.

“Don’t flood it,” Scott said next to you.

“Please, this thing is held together with more duct tape than-” You stopped arguing when the engine turned on. You didn’t talk. You didn’t breathe. All you did was wait.

And wait.

Stiles didn’t show.

“What now?” Malia asked, poking her head between the seats.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. A few annoying tears clawed at your throat as you spoke. You kept your eyes fixed on the steering wheel to keep from crying.

Scott started suggesting that you all go home when the radio stuttered to life. It filled the car with static. Scott reached to switch it off when a voice came on.

“Hello?”

Stiles.

You grabbed Scott’s hand and yanked it away. If he touched that radio then you were going to break his fingers.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

His voice fought the static but you’d recognize that voice through a hurricane.

“Can anyone hear me?”

Hesitantly, you reached for the walkie connected to the radio. You didn’t want to break whatever magic held the signal together and lose him. Still, you pushed on the button and took a breath. “Stiles?” you asked. “Stiles, I can hear you.”

Stiles said your name in a way that no one had ever said your name. He said it like it meant something. “Is that you?” he asked. “Scotty, you there?”

Scott held your hand over the walkie. “I’m here. Oh my god, Stiles- I can’t believe-”

“Oh my god, you know me?” Stiles asked. He sounded so relieved that your heart ached. “You remember me?”

“I’m trying to,” you said. “I- I dream about you. I promise I’m gonna remember you, alright? No matter what.”

It was quiet. Just the sound of your breathing.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked as he pulled himself closer. “Where are you? We’re coming to get you.”

“No, no, no. You can’t, okay? You won’t be able to find me,” Stiles rushed out. He was panicking and you wanted more than anything to fix it.

“No, Stiles, I need to find you,” you said. “Let me find you.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked at the same time you were talking. “Just tell us where you are and we’ll … we’ll come and-”

“Just remember this: Canaan,” Stiles said. Canaan. You were going to get that tattooed on your forehead to make sure there was no way to forget it. “Okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan. Promise me.”

“I pro-”

Static.

“No.” You moved closer to the radio, desperately looking for a switch to flip to bring him back. “No, no, no. Stiles? Stiles, can you hear me? I need you to say something, okay? Anything.”

Static.

“Stiles, please say something,” you whispered.

Scott said your name quietly. He untangled your hand from the walkie and set it down in its holder, putting his other hand to the side of your face. He said your name again, over your hysterics. “He’s gone,” he said gently. “We’ll get him back, but, for now, Stiles is gone.”

Tagged: @ietss @used-avocado @trustfundparker

#so close #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski #mccall!reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles slow burn

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zackcollins · 4 years

Text

i still love you || matthew tkachuk

masterlist

Author’s Note: I was listening to the radio yesterday and a song came on that gave me massive Matty vibes. I decided to go for it and write a fic based on the song because everyone probably still needs something to decompress with. The fic is a little bit different than the song but it still has the basic premise of the lyrics; hope that’s okay! GIF credit to matthewtkafuck!

Warnings: I don’t think anything is worth a warning but let me know if I’m wrong. I’ll gladly add whatever it is you think needs one!

Word Count: 1.8k+

Title/Based On: Austin by Blake Shelton

Additional: The reader can be implied to be feminine because of a couple of situations that I’m not going to spoil. As for one of the name of one of the characters I used in the fic. I named the character after the girl in The Reklaws since they came on the radio when I needed a name for the character. Hope that’s okay and I hope you guys enjoy this!

You had come home from work in the worst mood you could possibly imagine. Every one of your coworkers and a majority of the customers had tried your patience. You were ready to go on a destructive rampage through the neighbourhood by the time you pulled into the apartment complex parking garage.

When you walked into your apartment, you could hear your boyfriend, Matthew, playing a video game. By the sounds of it, it was Call of Duty because you could hear him talking to someone. You rolled your eyes as you walked into the living room. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw Matthew wearing his headset and caught a glimpse of the zombies on the screen.

Matthew nodded to acknowledge you, smiling when you placed a kiss to his forehead. He quickly pushed you aside; you guessed it was because of the voice you heard screaming in his ear about the zombies approaching him. You huffed and sat on the couch beside him. You tried to lean onto Matthew for comfort but he shrugged you off of him and looked at you sternly. Your stomach twisted angrily as a feeling of hurt washed over you.

“I need to leave, Matt,” you said.

Matthew raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. He pressed the button on his headset to mute his microphone. “I’ll get the car keys. We can go to the movies or something.” He unmuted his microphone and told whoever he was playing with that he needed to leave for the time being. Matthew powered the Xbox off before sliding his headset off and placing it on the coffee table. He stood up and turned to head toward the foyer to grab his keys.

You sighed, grabbing Matthew’s forearm. Matthew stopped and looked at you. He furrowed his brows and frowned when he saw the distraught look on your face. “No, I need to leave.”

“Oh. Uh…” Matthew dropped his arm from your grasp, sitting back on the couch, and grabbing your hands. You wanted to protest but you were too stressed to put up a fight. “Is there any reason?”

“I just need to clear my mind,” you said, squeezing Matthew’s hands weakly.

Matthew hummed, running his thumbs across your knuckles. You shivered and felt a sudden wave of emotions wash over you. You suddenly felt guilty for doing this but you knew it had to be done; this was what you felt was best for you right now.

You looked at Matthew with hopeful eyes and he smiled back softly. He took one of his hands away from your hand, using it to cup your chin. Matthew leaned in at the moment, pressing a quick goodbye kiss to your lips. You were beyond crushed when it was over. A part of you wanted your last kiss to mean something more; the other part of you was glad it was over quickly. You didn’t think you would be able to hold it together if it got more meaningful.

Dropping Matthew’s other hand, you looked at him with a painful expression. Matthew looked back, his eyes matching your pained gaze. You sighed, stood up, and walked down the hallway to what used to be yours and Matthew’s bedroom.

In the bedroom, you went through your dresser and placed your clothes and some toiletries into a couple of suitcases. You wanted to grab as much as you could before you got cold feet and decided to stay.

It took fifteen minutes but you eventually had accumulated enough contents in both suitcases to be able to drag them out of the bedroom. When you appeared back in front of Matthew, he looked shocked to see the suitcases.

“Fuck,” Matthew said, running a hand through his hair. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

All you could do was nod. You walked to the door of the apartment, looking back at Matthew. You felt your heart shatter when you saw the defeated expression on Matthew’s face. You wanted to turn around and run into Matthew’s arms; you wanted to stay here with Matthew. You knew you couldn’t because you had to take some time to clear your mind and figure out what you really wanted with your life before you continued this--or any--relationship.

You waved briefly to Matthew before you walked out of the door and out on the relationship you had spent three years building.

Ever since you had left your shared apartment that night, you had avoided watching any of Matthew’s pre-, mid-, or post-game interviews. You didn’t want to make the ache in your heart bigger.

You finally broke down and called him about a year after you had moved out, deciding you couldn’t bear the separation any longer. The phone rang times before it went to Matthew’s voicemail. You sighed and were about to hang up when the voicemail message started playing.

“I sold the car. I’m bowling if it’s Tuesday. If you’re selling something, I’m not buying it. If it’s important, wait for the tone; you know what to do. P.S. If this is (Y/N), I still love you.”

The phone fell from your grasp, landing on the counter with a thunk. Hearing that last line made your heart rate speed up and your head swim. You couldn’t believe that Matthew would hold on to his love for you for this long. You wanted to call right back but knew that would do no good; if Matthew didn’t answer the first time, he probably wouldn’t answer the second time.

Instead, you picked up the phone and opened your photo gallery. You opened the album you had made for pictures of you and Matthew together. You skimmed through them, stopping to closely examine your favourite ones.

As you looked at them, you felt your eyes beginning to well with tears. The longer you looked at the pictures, the closer you were getting to crying. When you got to the last picture of you and Matthew, you allowed the tears to stream down your face. The picture was of you and Matthew holding one of his teammate’s children. You inhaled shakily before sliding off the barstool you were sitting on.

You walked down the hallway and into the bedroom beside the bathroom. You walked across the room and bent over the crib, looking in on your daughter. She was sleeping soundly, thumb in her mouth. You took your phone and snapped a quick picture of her and saved it in the album you had created for her.

You leaned down and kissed your daughter’s forehead, sighing softly as soon as you stood back up. You leaned against the wall behind the crib, crossing your arms over your chest. Letting out a shaky sigh, you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You look just like your father.”

After sitting and stewing about it, you decided to try and call Matthew again after three days. You owed it to him to tell him that he had a daughter, even if nothing came of the relationship between the two of you. He deserved to at least have a relationship with his daughter.

Much like three days prior, the phone rang three times before going to voicemail. When the voicemail message played, you were surprised to see that Matthew had taken the time to change what it had said.

“I’m playing hockey if it’s Friday. I’m going fishing first thing Saturday morning, so long as it doesn’t rain. I’ll be gone for the whole weekend. If you leave your number, I’ll call you back when I return on Sunday afternoon. P.S. If this is (Y/N), I still love you.”

All you left was your number. You felt like spilling your guts about the fact that Matthew had a daughter over voicemail wasn’t the right thing to do. You felt that was to be discussed when Matthew was able to respond during an actual conversation.

As the days went on, you were anxiously waiting for Sunday afternoon. You had deep cleaned your apartment three different times in an attempt to keep your mind occupied. You had also taken your daughter to your usual Saturday afternoon ‘mommy and me’ baby aerobics class but it felt tense this time. No matter how hard you tried to relax, you couldn’t. Every one of your thoughts was focused on waiting for Matthew to call you back.

When Sunday afternoon finally came, you had almost forgotten about the fact that Matthew was supposed to call. That was evident by the fact that you were in the middle of changing your daughter when your phone rang. When you pulled your phone out of your pocket, you nearly had a heart attack when you saw the caller ID. It was Matthew calling. You accepted the call.

“If you’re calling about my heart,” you said, taking a breath to stabilize your voice. “It still belongs to you. I should’ve listened to what it was telling me. Then it wouldn’t have taken me so long to know where I belong.” You paused again, trying to see if you could gauge a reaction from Matthew. His end of the line seemed completely quiet, so you continued talking. “And by the way, this isn’t the voicemail. This is (Y/N). And I still love you. So does your daughter.”

You heard Matthew choke on some air as he started spluttering to breathe. It took a few moments but he eventually regained his composure enough to form coherent words.

“I have a daughter?!” He asked, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” you replied. “Her name is Jenna.”

Matthew inhaled sharply. “Can I see a picture of her?”

Instead of answering, you pressed a button to switch the call to a video call. Matthew accepted the video call request but had a confused look on his face. It shifted to understanding when you moved your phone to show the face of your daughter. It quickly shifted to something heartwarming after that.

“She…” Matthew said, motioning around her face. “She looks just like me.” His voice was small, almost tentative.

“Yeah, I know,” you replied, sighing shakily.

“Jenna?” Matthew said. Jenna immediately took attention to the fact that her name had been called. “It’s daddy, sweetheart. Hi. How’re you?” Jenna giggled and tried to reach for the phone, a gigantic smile on her face.

You felt your heartbeat sputter at what you had just witnessed. It was the most precious thing you could imagine for the first ‘meeting’ between Matthew and Jenna.

“Where do you live now?” Matthew asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. “The team has our bye week after the game tomorrow. I can visit you and Jenna during it.”

“I’m in Yellowknife,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll get the first flight from Calgary to Yellowknife after the game.”

You felt tears falling from the corners of your eyes. You wiped them away as you looked between Matthew and Jenna. Matthew noticed the tears and exhaled softly.

“Our family is finally going to be together,” Matthew said, running a hand through his hair. “That’s a good thing, (Y/N).” You got too hung up on the fact that he said ‘our’ to respond.

If he really thought like that after having only known about his daughter for ten minutes, you were blessed to have Matthew back in your life.

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noblest-roman-of-all · 4 years

Text

abandon

i figured id try my hand at one of those inktober style writing prompt challenges, so here we go! first up: abandon

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When he was a kid, Remus had a family. He had a brother, a twin brother at that! They were pretty different, but Remus really didn’t care that much. They would spend hours coming up with crazy stories about dragons and zombies and knights and magic, playing in their room where they could make anything happen. They called it the Imagination, and it was their kingdom. They ruled it together, the prince and the duke, making their own world everyday, then taking it apart and putting new ones together.

He always thought Roman was happy with the way they did things. Sure, sometimes they’d argue about things, but they always ended up making something awesome out of it. They had all they needed with the two of them and their Imagination. Roman clearly didn’t think that though. He kept spending more and more time with the other sides, Patton and Logan. He knew Patton didn’t like him. He never stopped smiling, unless he saw Remus. It never bothered him though, because he had his brother. Until one day.

Roman came back from playing with Patton and Logan, but something was wrong. Remus tried to tell him about his new idea for the Imagination, but Roman told him to shut up. He started yelling about how Remus was bad, he was broken. He said lots of things, but Remus only remembered the last part.

“You’re not my brother. You’re everything I can’t be, everything I can’t let happen to Thomas. You need to leave.”

Remus tried to go back to the Imagination, but the door wouldn’t open for him anymore. He stood outside the door for hours, trying everything he could to get the door open, but nothing worked. He had ideas in there! Stories, monsters, worlds he needed to finish building! Roman was in there! It seemed like forever passed before he heard someone behind him.

“It’s no use. You’re not welcome there anymore,” the voice said. He didn’t need to turn around to know that voice. It was one of the ones they didn’t let Thomas hear, didn’t let him know about. One of the bad guys.

“You’re lying,” Remus sneered. “That’s your whole thing. Roman wouldn’t…”

“Abandon you? He already has.” The sharp voice suddenly turned soft, almost sad. “I… I can give you a place. A family, without him.” A hand landed on Remus’ shoulder. Well, they did think he was a bad guy now. Might as well play the role. He was good at that.

“... where to?”

For a long time after that, Remus had a family. Janus and Virgil were just as strange as he was, just as intense and just as hated by the rest of the sides. It made sense for them all to stick together, to wreak a little havoc. Freaky nightmares, little lies that snowball into a trainwreck, the voice in Thomas’s mind reminding him just how quickly everything can go wrong. It was fun, like getting to play again. His Imagination was no longer contained and quelled by Roman, he was free. He got to suggest all manner of strange, creepy and downright dirty ideas, and sometimes, Thomas actually considered them. And to top it all off, he had friends, family who understood him.

Well, he thought they both did.

Virgil had been acting weird, even weirder than he normally did. He had agreed to jump into videos to really antagonize the “light sides”, finally given a platform other than the mindscape they normally existed in. It had gone well for a while. Even if he didn’t always manage to keep Thomas anxious, he managed to unsettle him for a while, and he messed with the others a shit ton, which Remus personally counted as a win. It had been working, he thought. Until he noticed that Virgil would leave their dark little corner outside of videos, hanging around the others just for shits and giggles.

Janus didn’t seem to mind that much, but Remus knew they were bad news. Knew how fast they would turn around and decide, you know what, you’re not worth it, not worth our time. He knew they would decide eventually that whatever pet project they were attempting with Virgil, they would get bored of it, and they would toss him out and break his heart. Remus didn’t want that to happen. So, he pulled a few strings.

He started fucking with Roman more and more, pushing all of his buttons. He made sure to show his face around Patton, reminding him who Virgil’s real family was. He would pop up in Logan’s room to ask all sorts of nonsense questions, trying to tire him out and piss him off. And because Remus was an evil mastermind at heart, it started to work. The other sides would lose their temper with Virgil more and more often, pushing him aside and talking over him. He was so sure it would make Virgil resent them, make him turn back to the people who cared about him.

He didn’t expect Virgil to duck out entirely.

He really didn’t expect the other sides and Thomas to find him so quickly.

He absolutely didn’t expect they would win him over.

“I love my dark strange son.” What a load of horseshit, from the cardigan clad clown himself.

Fine! If Virge wanted to get involved, leave him and Janus behind just so he could get his heart broken when the others inevitably changed their minds, remembered who he really was, and decided to abandon him in turn, that was all him.

Remus just never thought he was the masochistic sort.

For another three years, Remus had a family. Him and Janus got along swimmingly, better than he ever had with any other side. With Virgil out in the open, they decided they could make themselves known. If he’d thought getting to stretch his twisted creative muscles in the mindscape was fun, it was nothing compared to getting to pull out his biggest guns on Thomas in person. He also enjoyed that Janus seemed to come back from most of his encounters with them smug and content, which was usually the best state Janus could be in. Things were going well.

Remus should’ve known that means someone’s about to leave him.

It starts with the wedding. The stupid, stupid fucking wedding. He’s never wanted to bash his b- Roman over the head more than the moment he decided they were going to go to the wedding. Even if it gave him more material to work with, he knew it was going to result in a level of misery he didn’t want to deal with in the long run. He did end up getting to beat Ro up a little bit, but it didn’t satisfy him the way he wanted it to.

What was worse than that, Janus started getting more and more irritable. Remus would find him pacing around his room, muttering as he steps over crumpled sheets of paper and open notebooks. He would snap at Remus in ways he never did before, pissed off over silly pranks that never phased him much before.

You’d think by now, Remus would be an expert in recognizing when he was about to leave him behind. Some people just don’t learn, apparently.

He did pay attention when he wasn’t around, though people never expect that. He heard everything that happened the night of the wedding. He heard how hurt Roman was, how confused Patton seemed, how angry Thomas was trying to not be. He heard Janus appear and diffuse the situation.

He heard Janus tell them his name.

“Roman, thank god you don't have a mustache. Otherwise, between you and Remus, I wouldn't know who the evil twin is.” He heard that too.

When Janus came back, he didn’t look very different. Remus… well, Remus felt a lot of things, most of which he channeled into an overwhelming desire to hit him directly in his stupid, snake-y face with the morningstar.

Remus generally didn’t feel bad when his weapons actually hurt people, but he didn’t usually feel this level of release, this feeling of letting everything drain out of him in one harsh swing.

“What the hell has gotten into you? I’m not Roman, you know,” Janus sighed, wiping at the blood flowing down his face.

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, you two faced fucker. That was for being such an absolute fucking dick to my brother,” Remus shouted, hauling the morningstar over his shoulder, ready to swing again. Janus took a quick step back and raised an entirely unimpressed eyebrow.

“Oh yes, and you have such a history of kindness and support with him.” Normally Janus’ smug drawl was comforting, but directed at him it grated on every. Single. Fucking. Nerve.

“At least he knows what to expect from me! I hit him with a pointy ball on a stick, I don’t try to emotionally manipulate and damage him every chance I get!” Remus shouted. “And what was the name sharing shit? It took years for you to tell me your name, they get it in a few months?”

Janus let out a long sigh at that. “You don’t understand. It was the only way Patton-”

That was the final straw. “Oh, Patton this Patton that! Why don’t you go suck up to daddy like every other fucking side has, clearly that’s the only thing you give a shit about!”

“I needed them to trust me, Remus, it’s not personal.” Janus had sat down by now, his head in his hands, but Remus could not give less of a shit about how tired he looked.

“You made it personal when you used me to talk shit about my brother! Maybe I am evil, but I know my role, I know what I am, I don’t try to convince anyone otherwise! You, you lie and talk in circles and do whatever it takes to make sure they like you, make sure Patton likes you, even when it means you shit all over me!” Remus had been pacing through his speech, but he circled back to Janus, who was finally looking at him again. They locked eyes for a moment, before Janus looked away, unable to deny any of it.

“You told me you’d give me a family. If this is what your idea of family is, I don’t fucking want it,” Remus spat. “Go play house with Patton and pretend you're ever going to keep a promise and not abandon everything you’ve ever said and done at the drop of a hat when some shiny new possibility appears.”

A long, long moment of silence followed. And then Janus stood up, brushed lightly at his pants, and turned away from Remus.

“Have fun alone, Remus,” he said. It wasn’t a sneer, wasn’t a snarl or a shout. It was just said, flat and cold and so empty. And then he walked away, closing the door behind him quietly. For all his drama and all his shouting, Remus wasn’t prepared for such a quiet end.

“Well,” he said to the empty room, “at least I can’t have any more family drama.”

He didn’t cry that night. He didn’t spend that night wishing that maybe someone would have bothered to stay with him, stay for him.

He didn’t. Because he was the evil twin, and evil twins don’t cry over being abandoned.

They plot revenge.

#ts remus #ts roman #ts janus #ts virgil #ts patton #unsympatton #kinda i mean remus blames him for a lot of stuff #remus angst #creativitwins #hurt no comfort #be ready to be Sad #shea writes

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