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arc-misadventures · 18 days

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What are Those?! AU: jaune mybe the only dragon faunus in the arc family but just because they don't have the features of a dragon does not mean those humans in the arc family do not have the heart and soul [[ and temper and Sadistic streek ]]of one,

Jacques Schnee finds this out the hard way when he tries to get jaune thrown in jail under false charges so he can take over jaunes business, Jacques Schnee is made an example to the rest of remnant on WHY YA DON'T PISS OFF THE ARC FAMILY

To Shreds You Say?

The tired slowly awoke from its slumber as it heard the soft repetition of several chimes that was its alarm clock. Or, in this case, it was, Jaune Arc’s tone.

The soon to be crowned dragon king rose from his bed, and grabbed his scroll, and register two things: That it was 3:27 in the morning. And, that his father was the one calling him at such an ungodly hour.

Jaune: Yeah…?

The weariness was palpable upon, Jaune’s voice as he yawned. He could see the handsome visage of his father, Acheius Arc staring back at him.

Acheius: ‘Yeah?’ That’s all your pops gets after not seeing him for so long. Not even a ‘hello dad?’

Jaune: Hellos are reserved for those who do not disturb the dead such as you have…

His father gave a short laugh at his comment. He knew his father was just teasing him, but nobody liked being woken up in the middle of the night.

It often meant something unexpected, and unwelcome had happened.

Acheius: See you finally ditched the onesie. About time you grew out of wearing that.

Jaune looked down to see he was bare chested. While he had stopped wearing, the reasons he hadn’t were nothing to do with his father’s words. Mostly.

Jaune: I would still be wearing it dad, but I ‘literally’ grew out of it. That, and I think one of my girlfriends stole it…

He tapped the ever present, and ever growing horns on his head.

Acheius: Ahh yes, your mother mentioned how you were growing more noticeable faunas traits. I must say horns were not on my bingo…?! Wait, did you say ‘girlfriends?’ As in, more than one?

Jaune: Dad while I understand you want to know what’s going on with my life, we both know you didn’t call me this early in the morning to catch up. What is it?

Jaune rubbed his face trying to wipe away the tiredness from his eyes. He father gave him a look before explaining his reasons for waking him up.

Acheius: It’s about that one of your diamond mines.

Jaune: Which mine?

That woke up, Jaune rather quickly. He turned his eyes to fully address his father as he was about to take in every word he was about to say.

Acheuis: The one at north east tip of, Vacuo: Raiders…

Jaune: Raiders Coast. There’s a diamond, and Dust mine located there, as well as a small town whose population mostly works there. What happened; Cave in, Grimm attack, raiders?

While, Jaune was highly protective of his diamond mines, to the point of fanatical, he cared more about the people working in his mines, than the diamonds themselves. A collapsed mine could be mine once again, and reclaimed. Peoples lives however, could not be so easily reclaimed. At most they could give the bodies of the dead a proper burial.

Acheius: A raid happened. Of sorts that is.

Jaune: Of sorts?

Acheius: A group of bandits attacked the mine. Trying to steal the, Dust, not the diamonds. They never touched your diamond vaults.

Jaune: They only went after the, Dust? Odd… They usually go after my diamonds; they’re easier to steal, and fence. Why only the, Dust though.

Acheius: Because they weren’t your typical, ‘raiders.’

Jaune: Explain.

Acheius: They were too organized, and disciplined to be your usual raiders. Not to mention all of them basically carried the same type of equipment: From weapons, to uniforms, to gear. Practically all identical.

Jaune: Identical…? Hmmm…

Jaune racked his mind as he pondered this information. A well organized, armed, and disciplined militia. That was an interesting tidbit of information.

There were dozens of gangs of bandits; large, and small in number strewn all about the desserts of, Vaccuo. But, only a few matched such a description. There was the, Bloody Skulls, they tended to be rather uniform in their appearance. There was the Dune Raiders, they had a lot of standardized equipment under their belts. The Scorpions were another, who followed this same rule, but their members tended to be branded with scorpion tattoos, and if it was one of them his father would have mentioned it. The Crowns had a habit of attacking his, Dust mines. But, just like the rest, he, and his family had hunted them down to extinction.

But, who ever attacked him only attacked the, Dust mine, not the diamond mine. Which left him with only one culprit left. The one person who would do anything do steal one of his, Dust mines.

Jaune: Jacques…

Acheius: Jacques? As in, Jacques Schnee? You think he is behind this?

Jaune: The bastard has been trying to get a foothold into, Vaccuo’s Dust mines for years, not to mention I am his biggest rival. Him taking one of my, Dust mines by force, and gaining a foothold in, Vaccuo is a two birds one stone scenario for him.

Acheius: Hmm… That makes sense. Luna’s been tracking the money that’s been deposited into their coffers, and she said it came from some company called, ‘Hybrid Enterprises.’ They’re registered as a, Atlasian company. Ring any bells?

Jaune: No, I’ve never heard of that company before.

: That’s because its a dummy corporation.

Jaune: A dummy corporation?

Acheius: I-Is someone with you, Jaune?

Jaune: Uhh…?

Jaune felt an arm wrap around his body as a head rested upon his shoulder. He could feel her bare chest against his back as his face was flush red. Not so much because he had a beautiful woman resting against him, more so because he had beautiful woman resting her body against him, and she was naked, and he was in the middle of a video call with his freaking father!

But, other than that things were okay.

Acheius: And… who are you…?

: My name is, Willow, Willow Schnee. You must be, Jaune’s father. Mr…?

Acheius: Acheius Arc…

Jaune: H-How do you know they’re a dummy corporation, Willow?

Jaune decided to take control of the conversation before it went somewhere he did not want it to go.

Willow: Because my… husband founded it. He uses them for all his shady back room deals: Bribery, stealing, blackmail, threats… various deplorable things such as that.

Acheius: It doesn’t surprise me that, that bastard would have such associates under his payroll. So he must have used this dummy corporation to hire these mercenaries.

Willow: They may not be mercenaries per-say. Tell me, did they have any badges on their uniforms, any iconography?

Acheius: No, their uniforms were clean of such items. But, there was a tattoo of a white raven on one severed arms of one of them, does that ring any bells, Mrs. Schnee?

Willow: Hmmm… White ravens…? Ah! Winter’s Cawl. They’re a private military force that’s under the, quote control of, Hybrid Enterprises. Really its under, Jacques’s control as his personal hitman army.

Jaune: He has an army?!

Willow: No, more than a couple hundred strong militia. But, they are well equipped for a group their size.

Jaune: Damn… I need to speed up the timetable for making my own military force then… Wait, severed? Did you cut off that guys arm dad?

Acheius: Ah no, that wasn’t me.

Jaune: Then who did it?

Acheius: Thiriana did it. A gunshot went off, and accidentally clipped her hair, singeing a bit of it, and… you know how protective of their hair they are.

Jaune: Ahhh… That explains that.

A small shiver of fear ran through his body as, Jaune remembered the hell the female members of his family raised when something happened to their hair.

Twas a horrifying sight to see.

Willow: I assume you left some of these ‘bandits’ alive to be interrogated?

Acheius: I tried to do so… but…

Jaune: What did my sisters do?

Acheius: More so what the bandits attempted to do. Several of them were using some of the miners children as hostages, and well, Thiriana, and Janette went feral.

Jaune: Ahh…

Acheius: Yeah…

Jaune: Were they quick?

Acheius: They weren’t quiet…

Jaune: Bloody hell…

Willow: Are all, Arc woman so violent?

JA: Yes.

Willow: Oh my…

Acheius: Unfortunately, we know who did it, but we don’t have any proof to convict, Jacques of ordering this attack on one of your mines.

Jaune: Dammit…

A low growl escaped his lips as he mulled over this information. They had information to convict, Jacques Schnee to various crimes, but they were all speculative however, easily dismissible in a court of law. One more the bastard would get away with things.

Or, so he thought.

A ringing sound soon went off on his father’s scroll, he quirked an eyebrow at the caller before he answered it.

Acheius: It’s your sister.

Jaune: Which one?

Acheius: Luna. I’ll put her on a combined call.

As he said that, Jaune was met with the sight of his sister, Luna who was looking positively radiant as she gave a pearly smile to the camera.

So long as one ignored all the blood on her face.

Luna: Hi Dad! And, hi, Ja…?! Oh… is… is that Mrs. Schnee. Willow Schnee of SDC draped over your shoulder…

Luna: Naked…?

Willow: I seduced a handsome young man that really, really knows how to show a woman a good time~! There’s nothing else to it.

Luna: S-She seduced you…?!

Jaune: No comment.

Luna: But, how did…?!

Jaune: No. Comment.

Luna: I shoved, Jacques into a cell, and you shoved it into his wife… The fuck is going on…?

Acheius: Wait, what did you say, Luna?

Luna: I uhh… I threw, Jacques into a cell.

JA: …

Willow: And, why is he in a jail cell?

Luna: Tried to bribe me for control of one of, Jaune’s, Dust mines. It was a poor bribe so I told him to shove it up his ass. He didn’t take too kind to that, so he told his ‘associates’ to convince me to ‘accept’ his deal. And, well… Long story short; the main office at the, Kantor Mines needs to be remodelled. And, Jacques Schnee is… currently being pelted with tomatoes as he is suspended ten feet in the air in a cage.

Willow: I see… So, how much do I have to pay for his release?

Luna: Ohh direct hit to the groin…

Jaune: Luna.

Luna: Huw? Oh yeah! Let’s see… Damage to the main office at. Kantor Mine. Shouldn’t be much to pay off. About three thousand Lien.

Acheius: You’re forgetting about all the havoc he caused at, Raiders Coast.

Luna: What happened at, Raiders Coast?

Acheius: You didn’t hear? I thought one of your sisters would have told you. It was attacked by a mercenary gang run by the, SDC.

Luna: Ahh, send me a list of the damages, and I’ll make a list of damage fees to send to, Jacques for him to pay.

Acheius: Alright, I’ll go…?

Willow: A moment if you will.

Acheius: What is it, Mrs. Schnee.

Willow: Why don’t you have, Jacques pay off the damages he has committed with some good old… manual labour~?

Jaune: You want him to work off his debt?

Willow: Indeed. The crimes he committed shouldn’t be simply payed off with money, they should be payed off with hard, back breaking labour.

Luna: But, his bill will be in the thousands, possibly the tens of thousands?!

Willow: So he will be working at this debt for years to come? Oh, what a shame.

Acheius: …

Luna: …

Acheius: Okay.

Luna: Seems reasonable.

Acheius: We still have to let, Atlas know that we have him in our custody.

Willow: And, tell them the SDC is doing everything in its power to get his… eventual release. Somewhere between six months to a year.

Luna: Okay, I can do that. Anything else I should tell him?

Willow: No, now if you’ll excuse me, I just got a rather invigorating second wind~!

Jaune: Second wind? What are you… Ahh?!

And, with in his question, Jaune yelped in alarm as he felt a beautiful lady’s hand descend lower to grab something particularly long, and hard in her hand.

Jaune: I-Igottagonowguys.Bye!

And, with that the call was cut on, Jaune’s wnd leaving the father daughter duo to look at each other with bewildered expressions across their faces.

Luna: Uhh… what just happened?

Acheius: I don’t… oh… Oh that’s what happened…

Luna: What happened?

Acheius: Quite simple. Learning that her husband is now in jail, giving, Willow time to take back her company has left her in a euphoric state of mind.

Luna: Oh, good for her. Getting rid of that bastard will do wonders for the world!

Acheius: Luna. She got off to the fact her husband is in jail, and wants to sleep with your brother again…

Luna: Dad, I fucking know that, I just didn’t want to think about my brother sleeping with a woman!

Acheius: Oh…

Acheius: Yeah, I don’t want to think about, Jaune sleeping with a woman your mothers age either.

Luna: The fuck did you have to say THAT?!!

Acheius: Whoops…

#rwby #jaune arc #jacques schnee #acheius arc #willow schnee #jaune x willow #willow x jaune

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lucid-loves · 3 months

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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.

Chapter Synopsis: While you are alone in your own hotel room, the men talk about you over Italian cuisine. This includes speculation on Ghost’s feelings for you. Meanwhile, you are already gearing up for infiltration to tap the target building. Ghost decides that he wants a front-row seat to your show.

A/N: I am adding a taglist from now on for those who want to be a part of one. I made a post asking people to like it if they wanted to be part of it. If you would like to comment that you want to be in a taglist, you can do so on this post~

Taglist: @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @dory-98 @cum-tea-and-towels @completelymarveltrash

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Good God, authentic pizza was absolutely amazing. The standard for pasta was incredible as well. It beat the standard cafeteria food back on base by a landslide. The 141 grimaced as they thought about someday having to return to the food back home. Even the food they’ve eaten out of your fridge has been refreshing to their taste buds. Soap was the most vocal about his dread of the mass-cook cafeteria food as he devoured another slice of heaven. “Christ, going back to bland spinach and soggy rice is going to be fuckin’ painful!”

“Remember when they tried to do a taco night. Fucking hell, the lettuce was dripping fat like a sponge.” Gaz added as he took a swig of whiskey. It wasn’t the Italian choice of liquor to pair with food, but it was the 141’s choice. Not Ghost’s though. He missed his Kentucky bourbon.

“Last Thanksgiving was the most painful for me. Turkey was drier than my fuckin’ belt.” Soap chuckled, trying not to drip sauce onto the bed with how his whole body laughed with him. They were eating in one of the double queen hotel rooms, away from the public eye. When they were all together in a group, they often garnered attention. Such was the price for being such large, capable men.

“Anyone reckon that Hex is up yet? Food is gonna get cold.” Price inquired. They had saved some food for you. A plate full of different things since no one knew what you liked. Even Kate didn’t know when they called to ask her. Still, they tried their best anyway. And their best was getting cold on a ceramic plate.

Soap shook his head in refusal. “I’m not gonna knock on her door. The lass scares the shite out of me.”

Gaz laughed out loud. “Soap? Afraid? Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Hey, you weren’t the one that nearly lost an ear! With fuckin’ car keys of all things.” He defended, taking a long swig of his own drink. He clearly wasn’t going to forgive you for that any time soon. It made him annoyed when he thought about the fact that you probably didn’t care.

Price shrugged and poured himself another drink. “You were kinda asking for it, Johnny. I think I would’ve nearly killed you too if I’m being honest.”

“Well, Lt. made the joke first and he didn't nearly get stabbed.” He continued to argue, looking to Simon for an answer on how it was different when he cracked the joke. Ghost just stared with indifference, sitting in the corner with his mask halfway up. Even if he was with the people he trusted with his identity, he just felt more comfortable hiding his face while he ate.

The room went quiet for a moment as the men thought about it. Out of all of them, Ghost seemed to be the one that was able to get the closest to you. You still pushed him away by miles, but it was definitely closer than they were getting. Kyle took another slice of pizza, the fresh basil so vibrantly green that it looked like it was glowing. “How do you feel so comfortable pushing her boundaries, Lieutenant? One attempt at our lives is enough for us to back off. Yet, you seem to keep going back for more.”

The men waited for an answer, an idea crawling into each of their heads. Price had already picked up on it by now. He noticed as soon as Ghost lifted you in his arms. Gaz vocalizing his observation out loud just now triggered Soap to realize it too. A slow, knowing smirk crept along Soap’s lips. Simon scowled at the insinuation, reading all of their minds. “All of you can bury your ideas six feet under. I’m just trying to get her to trust us. The mission will go a lot smoother if she does. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can go home.”

All of them returned to enjoying their meals, unconvinced by Ghost’s protest. Was Simon attracted to you? Absolutely. Did he like you? Well, he certainly didn’t hate you. The biggest problem for him was that you were dangerous. Not just from an ability standpoint, but from an emotional standpoint. While he did want to get close to you, he still wanted to keep you just out of arm’s reach emotionally because he knew that you would burn him. Poison him with that venom of yours. He knew if he really did fall for you, he would never stop falling.

For the sake of the mission and his own preservation, he convinced himself that you were only a temporary attraction. A beautiful woman with incredible power that will return to the unknown as soon as this is all over. His teammates knew better, though. In all their time of knowing Simon, he has never shown interest in women. Always too busy. Always too focused on work. Not even making time for hook-ups. When you came into the picture, you got his attention in a way they have never seen before. That meant a lot to them.

“Regardless, you have the honor of delivering our assassin her dinner, Lieutenant.” Price smirked, abusing his power as Captain to avoid feeding the feral woman next door. Ghost clenched his jaw, cursing out John in his mind as he got up.

The men continued their lighthearted conversation as Simon walked out, plate of food in hand. Taking a deep breath, he walked to your door and knocked. When there was no answer, he thought that perhaps you were still asleep. So, he took out his spare keycard to the room and welcomed himself in.

The room was dim, large shadows casing over the beige walls. A few laptops were running on the desks, already hacked into the security cameras of the target building. You’ve actually been up for a while and have been busy getting things ready for your infiltration. It was alarming when you woke up in your hotel room instead of the car at first. However, it didn’t take you long to figure out that someone must’ve carried you. You were pretty sure who it was, but you didn’t dwell on it. There was work to be done and you had wasted too much time with sleep.

Kate helped you get into their systems. From there, a layout of the building was mapped out along with the IDs of everyone working for Makarov. You have watched enough security footage to take note of the guard routes. All that needed to be done was planting the taps to allow you to listen in on everything. Nothing was going to be unheard. Not even the sound of a guard taking a bathroom break.

Simon watched you fasten a black belt tight around your hips that carried a collection of small throwing knives. You wore new pants, a long sleeve turtleneck with a hood, and boots. All tight. All black. His hands ached to reach out in order to trace your prominent curves. He wanted to feel the thin fabric of your shirt, the heat of your skin exuding through it.

Instead of that, he placed the food down on top of your dresser, resisting the temptation. “Not going to eat first?”

You didn’t even glance his way, something he wanted to fix immediately. “No. It will weigh me down. I had room service bring up some fruit earlier. It will tie me over until I get back.”

“You’re leaving now?” He questioned, anger rising in his tone. You should have let them know that you were awake. That you were set up with the tech. That you wanted to proceed with the mission with a lookout. You shouldn’t have intended to do this alone.

But, you couldn’t help it. This is how you have always worked. Besides, to you, there was no reason to waste time with unnecessary things like knocking on their door to let them know you were ready. What were you? A fucking dog looking to be let out? “Now is better than later. Security usually lets their guard down after meals. It’s not too late in the night to expect intruders too. Now is the optimal time for me to place the taps.”

Simon scoffed at your unapologetic reasoning. “And you were just going to do this alone? Not even someone to watch the cameras out for you? What if you get compromised?”

Here we fucking go again. You grabbed the taps sitting on the desk, putting them in a small satchel securely tied to your belt. “Can you not criticize the way I do things every fucking conversation? I’m doing what I do best, Simon. I’ve never been compromised before. That’s a streak I intend to keep.”

He stepped towards you, his frame menacing as he towered over you. Hearing your name come from your lips was still something he wasn’t used to. Despite that, he wasn’t going to let you do this alone. This time, his tone was gentle yet resolute. “I’m letting the force know and I’m going to monitor the cameras.”

Looking up into his eyes, you could see that he wasn’t going to waver from his decision. There was no point fighting about this, you finally decided. Not even twelve hours ago was your last fight with him. A part of you was getting tired of it. Stepping back towards the hotel window to leave, you threw in the towel. It wasn’t going to stop you from getting the job done anyhow. “Do whatever you want. I don’t give a shit.”

“Hang on.” Ghost stopped you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He pulled you towards him, using the advantage of his strength to have you close to him. Anticipating you to either reach for your knives or strike him with your other hand, he prepared to guard himself. However, you never used the same trick twice in a row.

Like a forceful tango, you stepped your full weight forward to catch him off balance. You then pushed further as he was forced to step back lest you headbutt him, your hand now having the room to land on his chest with a quick, sharp force. In Simon’s fall, you swiped his sheathed knife from his own belt. Before he knew it, he was laying on his back on your bed, you straddling him, his eyes locking with yours that blazed with victory.

Ghost’s strong hand was still wrapped around your wrist, but your free hand had his own knife pressed against his chest. Right over his heart that was thudding against his chest like it wanted to break out. The hot blood in his body was pumping into overdrive. Not in fear of death. No. In pure, passionate attraction. He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to still pull you down and kiss you through his mask. Even if it would cause the knife to be plunged into his heart, the thought of being able to share a passionate kiss with you didn’t seem like a bad tradeoff.

Tendrils of your hair fell past your face, framing a beautiful jawline he wanted to trace with his lips. The image of you gasping in shock and pleasure as he squeezed your hips flashed in his mind for a second. It wouldn't have been hard to do. His other hand was still free but frozen as you pressed the tip of the blade into his chest. He also imagined the potential sweetness of your tongue, giving him a taste of dessert after dinner. He wanted to be the one to catch you by surprise and submit to his will. Only, you would love it and beg for more through feverish kisses and the grinding of your hips against his.

Christ, he was getting a boner.

He wasn’t the only one who was feeling it, though. The sound of your own heartbeat was flooding your ears. You couldn’t seem to pull away from his blue eyes that so heatedly begged for you to come closer. The heat already felt from your body pressing against his didn’t feel like enough. Especially when you began to feel his growing hardness pressing against you. That just made your own sex tingle with need.

You got off of him quickly, putting distance between the two of you. What the fuck were you doing?! What the hell was wrong with you?! You haven't been with anyone for so long, but it was no excuse to get so swept up like this. Not with someone like Ghost. Not with someone like Simon Riley. You needed to get a fucking grip. Get your head on straight. Damn it, you were better than this!

Slowly, he sat up and cleared his throat, trying to pretend that what just happened wasn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever been through. His knife was tossed onto the bed next to him, your movements quick as you rushed to get the fuck out of there.

However, when Simon called your name, you froze. He sounded a little breathless, his voice making you shiver. “Hex, wait.”

Simon stood from the bed to grab something from the desk. Cautiously, he walked towards you, now learning his lesson that it wasn’t a great idea to just grab you so suddenly for multiple reasons. At a slow pace, he opened his large palm to show you a small earpiece. Still being careful with his speed and touch, he lightly brushed your hair behind your ear and inserted the earpiece for you. You flinched as his fingers brushed against your jaw, butterflies erupting within you.

“You’ll be able to hear me through this. I won’t say anything unless I really have to. You’ll be able to talk to me through it too. Whatever you want, whatever you need, just say it.” Ghost promised.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You feared that using your voice would reveal just how flustered you were over what just transpired. Instead, you gave a simple nod and headed back to your window.

The nighttime breeze flooded in as soon as you opened the window, the chill seeping into your bones. Good. You needed to cool off. Without looking back, you slipped out into the night, leaving Simon behind to wonder if supposed enemies were supposed to be attracted to each other like this.

The shadows concealed you, the moonlight accentuating them on every surface they could touch. Quietly and quickly, you moved from shadow to shadow until you stumbled upon the targeted building. From the outside, it looked like a rundown, abandoned office building up for sale. The place was hidden away, tucked behind the forefront of what Italy wanted to offer instead. Beauty.

You watched armed men standing guard, looking out into the alleyways for enemies. Sticking to the shadows, you crept along the side of the building before spotting an open window just above you. Taking a deep breath to focus your mind, you sprung into action. With a few wall jumps, you were right in one of Makarov’s weapons depot.

From the laptops back at the hotel, Ghost carefully watched the footage, almost holding his breath as he searched for you. His team gathered into the room once he told them you had left already. They had assumed that all the time he spent missing with you was just him helping set up the tech. He didn’t correct them on this. Like you had said before, never underestimate the power of assumptions.

Relief washed over his shoulders as soon as he saw your figure invade the building. Just as fast as you had entered, you hid, dropping a tap that was modeled to look like a dead fly onto the dirty tile. The place was dusty, the smell of stagnant air filling your lungs. The men here didn’t care about the cleanliness of the place. Fortunately for the 141, that meant that they wouldn't have to worry about anyone cleaning up the “dead flies.”

All of the men watched the footage as you swiftly made your way from room to room dropping flies. Soap double checked to make sure that the enemies’ own footage was still scrubbed as you worked. Regardless, you moved so carefully that any video of you just looked like a weird, black glitch. You were in your zone. This is what you did for years. This is what you have secretly missed doing.

Every move you made was calculated, following a strict regime based on the men’s own schedule. As you dropped more and more taps, Price began to check if they worked on his end. Sure enough, they could hear everything.

Gaz noticed that Ghost’s body was rigid, his eyes refusing to leave the screens. He was keeping track of you like he would lose sight of you if he blinked. Wanting to ease his worries, he began to prepare some tea using the hotel’s electric kettle. Kyle was always one to look out for his friends like this.

A hot cup of black tea was placed in front of Ghost, the smell already releasing the tension in his muscles. Gaz pat his stiff shoulder. “She’s gonna be alright, bruv.”

Ghost gave a silent nod, finally taking a moment to let his eyes wander off of the monitor to have a sip of tea. Now that he was more relaxed, he viewed your movements in a more admiring way. None of them could pull off how smoothly you moved. How easy you glided through like a gust of wind passing through. Even when you were close to an enemy, you kept your cool, refrained from killing, and moved on without detection.

You were a god damn modern-day ninja. A fine one at that.

In less than an hour, you had swept through the whole building without detection. Every tap was planted. Not once did you hear Simon in your ear either. You were glad. You felt like if you heard his voice through the earpiece it would break your flow. But, a part of you did yearn to hear his deep voice so close to you.

Getting out was the easiest part. Having no one seen you come in, you took the same route out. When you came back through the window, you were met with grateful smiles and words of praise that were foreign to your ears. Ghost wanted to be the first one to say something about your skills, but loud-mouth Sergeant Soap beat him to it. “Damn, Lass! I think you just set a record for 141!”

“That was quite impressive stuff there, Hex. It was like you were never there. Kate was right about you.” Price grinned as he thanked you in his own way.

Gaz hopped on the headphones to listen to the taps as soon as his Captain moved. “All of them are working just fine. I’ve only ever seen moves like that in movies and video games. Job well done!”

You were unsure of what to do with all of this attention, never having experienced it before. When you worked alone, there was no one to tell you that you did well when you got back. You didn’t know if all of this flattery made you feel good. In all honesty, the confusion you felt about it made you a little sick to your stomach.

Weaving past them all, you grabbed your cold plate of food that Simon brought to you earlier and left without a word through the door. After receiving some worried glances from his soldiers, Price provided some words of reassurance. “Don’t worry, men. Hex probably isn’t used to having people wait for her like this, let alone praise for good work. Give her time.”

As the team brought back some of the tech to monitor from their rooms, Ghost stepped out into the hallway to look for you. He initially thought that you would be in one of their rooms to use the microwave, but you were nowhere in sight. While he wanted to keep looking, a call by his Captain to help made him call it there for the night.

And so he spent the rest of the night bunking with Soap, listening in on private conversations and thinking about you. Meanwhile, you spent your night eating a cold dinner alone on the hotel rooftop. Overlooking the city, your own mind occasionally wandered against your will towards Ghost and how it would feel if his heat saved you from the autumn winds chilling your skin.

#simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #cod fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader

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lilacsinjuly · 1 year

Text

nineteen.

gojo x reader

summary:

gojo coming home to you after nineteen dreadful days without him.

cw: slight angst (if you being very upset counts as angst idk i’m kind of new here lol) & very miniature fluff, new chapter spoilers, daddy’s home

word count: 0.7k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Nineteen days of cooking two meals, only for one to be discarded for the bin. Nineteen days of reaching behind you in bed to find a heartbreaking emptiness and an empty pillow. Nineteen days without hearing the jingle of his keys in the door, the warming, and loud, announcement of his arrival that never failed to make you smile, his soft kisses and delicate touch. Nineteen days of solitude and sorrow.

Somehow, this streak appeared to have been broken. You looked up from your untouched plate of food, an identical one sitting opposite you, at the sound of a knock on the door.

You dragged your feet towards the door unenthusiastically, all hope of it being the one you dreamed it would be, having dwindled gradually after every time you opened the door to a face that didn’t belong to Satoru Gojo. Each time just as much of a knife to the heart as the last.

But there he was. At first, you weren’t sure if the grief of his being gone and all other of the recent events were messing with your mind, but when he spoke, when you touched him, it all felt so real.

“I lost my keys, I’m sorry.” His voice was weak and sad.

All he had thought about was you. How you were doing, if you were in danger, if you were alive and protected as he couldn’t ensure it himself.

You had infested his mind constantly and without failure made him lose his mind with agony at the lack of your gentle fingertips trailing his skin and through his hair.

He pulled you into his arms immediately, having misunderstood the pain of not being in your touch for so, so long.

“You told me you’d be careful.” you sobbed, pulling away and punching him weakly in the chest, though he didn’t flinch, he just stared into your glassy eyes with his own a he caressed your cheek and pulled you back into his embrace as he muttered apologies

“I know baby-“

“No you don’t know Satoru!” all the pain that's been built up over the past two weeks finally being disentangled from your chest, crawling over him as he drowned in your misery. You pulled away from him again, taking a few steps back to take him in as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“I haven’t been able to breathe or think or- I just-" you stuttered, not being able to get the right words out. "I missed you so much it hurt. I didn't know when you’d- I didn’t know if you’d come back and that killed me over and over again. The thought of losing you forever killed me.”

The feeling of him not being with you was so overwhelming. You couldn’t explain the grief you found yourself trapped in these nineteen days. Everything was a reminder of what you didn’t have. The reverberating silence of your shared home, the music you’d listen to together, the meals you’d cook together (mainly you, as he can’t cook to save his life). Everything hits you at once.

He kept his head down as though the site of your pain alone was enough to hurt the strongest.

“If I could take all this pain from you and put it in me, I would, a thousand times over if I had to and I really wish I could because seeing you cry and knowing I caused it I-“ he walked hesitantly up to you and took your face in the palm of his familiarly warm hands.

"I missed you. I missed you so fucking much." he muttered, placing his forehead against yours.

"I love you, Toru. Please don't leave me again, I don't think my heart could take it." you whispered back.

"I promise. Never again."

He had struggled immensely too, but all of his suffering only intensified at the idea of you being in so much despair at losing him, knowing you'd been rotting from the inside without your light to keep you flourishing.

You never once let him go.

When he carried you to the sofa and stood up to grab you some water, you refused, no matter how dry your throat was from all the crying. You couldn’t be apart from him for one second, in case it was all a dream that would end in the morning. And if that was the case, you wouldn’t dare waste a single precious second away from his protective and loving arms.

Everything felt so real, so when you woke up the next morning to the same spot that had been empty for the past nineteen days being occupied by the one you loved, your heart melted as your head nestled into his chest.

note: I MISSED HIM SO MUCH YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

edit: help i dont remember writing this and i’m scared to reread it

#gojo x reader #fluff #gojo angst #angst #jjk spoilers #jjk angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo is free #free gojo

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eddiessluttywaist · 10 months

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 7,488 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, fluff, swearing, blood (accidental cut), mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of embarrassment and shame, mentions of a history of bad relationships, smoking, car trouble (sorry if any of the car stuff isn’t accurate lmao). i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry for taking so long to update! i've been very busy. i hope you enjoy the new chapter! creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

“You what?” The man on the other line cackled in Eddie’s ear. “Ro- Robin! No, you gotta come here! Eddie called some chick a ‘good girl’. He totally scared her off, it’s hilarious.”

“Thank you, Harrington, you’re really helping me in my time of need,” Eddie seethed as he laid in bed. He heard some shuffling and then a familiar feminine voice sounded from the telephone.

“‘Good girl’? What is she? A dog?”

Eddie ran his hands over his face, jostling his bangs away from his forehead before suddenly jerking them away in gestures they couldn’t even see as he let out a bitter laugh.

“Why did I even call you two? I’m regretting so many choices today.”

“So, she didn’t like it?” Steve asked as Robin complained about him crowding the phone.

“Go use the one in the living room— no— stop-”

“This is my room. You go use the living room phone.”

“Ugh, you’re breathing on me, dingus!”

Eddie rolled his eyes over the typical bickering, choosing to focus on the question that actually had to do with their conversation.

“Uh — well — she got all freaked out and everything was awkward. When she was leaving, I was going to open the door for her and she thought I was going to hug her— I-I, ugh, it was horrible. So uhh… yeah, I’d say no. She didn’t like it… at… all.”

“You have zero game, man,” Steve chided after a beat of silence that had forced Eddie to sit with his shame.

“And neither do you.” Robin argued, finally waving him out of his own room. “Don’t listen to him, Eddie, he’s an idiot.”

“Thanks, Robin…,” he muttered even if it didn’t make him feel much better.

“You’re an idiot too, just so we’re clear,” she added, and he nodded despite the fact that — once again — she couldn’t even see him. “I can’t believe you called her a good girl.”

“Okay, how many times are we going to repeat it before I blow my brains out?” Eddie deflated with a distressed laugh, clasping his hands together. He heard another line pick up.

“What’d I miss?”

“Eddie wants to die.”

“I do not blame you, man. You know it’s never too late to come here in Indianapolis. Maybe even change your identity,” Steve suggested as he leaned up against the wall by his other phone, which he had nestled between his ear and his shoulder just like Eddie did.

“Yeah, cause I could afford living in the city,” he snickered mostly to himself before sighing as he ran his hands over his face again.

“Who is she anyway?” Robin wondered.

“She’s his weird, secret friend he’s kept from us,” Steve replied in a mutter.

“No, I- she’s not a secret and she’s not weird,” Eddie huffs. “She’s just… she hasn’t been around in a while. She’s a friend from before I moved in with Wayne.”

“Oh… oh,” Robin’s interest piqued again. “So, she’s like… a best-best friend?”

“He totally wants to nail her,” Steve tacked on, and Eddie found himself groaning as he sunk further into his bed, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“I don’t wan — will you quit it? Yes, we were very close.”

“And she just happened to show up out of nowhere. I’m telling you, Ed, she wants you. You should go for it. You haven’t been laid since Chrissy…,” Steve muttered that last comment, and Robin squeezed her eyes shut as she facepalmed.

“Or she could just need a friend…?” Robin countered, her voice weakly lilting upwards as she corrected him. She just hoped the Chrissy comment wouldn’t be enough to make Eddie draw back into himself.

“She knew you when you were kids. I’m sure you were just as weird as a little child Eddie, so I doubt she was all that fazed by you calling her uh… the thing you called her.”

“Maybe…,” Eddie muttered, picking at his nails and biting at them.

He was tired. That tea really did help, even if his exhaustion was put on hold by an absurd amount of embarrassment and anxiety. He could feel himself settling again, his eyelids getting heavier.

“I should go.”

Robin squeezed her eyes shut again and mentally chastised Steve for bringing up Chrissy so carelessly.

“Call us again. Okay, weirdo? To update us?” Robin urged, feeling a surge of protective instinct.

He was never around anymore, never called; and there was always this anxiety in the back of her mind that he wasn’t letting them know if things were getting too hard for him. Neither Steve nor she could figure out when they could check in on him because he never bothered to share his schedule with them. And when they did call it was incredibly rare for him to pick up. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to shut everyone out, but it only made her worry about what was going on with him.

“I don’t wanna bother you guys. I know you’re busy with city life,” Eddie teased with a playful theatricality to his tone, but his voice was soft with that creeping exhaustion.

“Nah, you know you can call whenever,” Steve replied, taking a break from his incessant joking to let some of his sincerity come through. “Plus, I gotta hear more about this secret girl.”

“Not a secret,” Eddie corrected, his eyes closing to soothe his urge to drift off, one brow raising lazily with his words.

“Just call, okay? Or we’ll keep bugging you until you update us,” Robin urged, a sing-song tone coming to her voice.

“Fine,” Eddie snickered, and this time he was actually able to get a goodbye in and sloppily slam his phone back down before knocking out.

There was only crackling now on the line between the two roommates.

“I worry about him,” Robin spoke up suddenly, just loud enough for Steve to catch her concerned voice.

“I know,” Steve sighed, placing the phone back onto the wall. “I do too.”

You had no intentions of ignoring Eddie after that night in his trailer, not explicitly anyways. You were still thinking about him constantly, but any pleasant thoughts were immediately invaded by embarrassment. It felt like you were experiencing it all over again and the accompanying swirl to your gut was overwhelming.

The reality of the next couple of Eddie-less days was that you were too engrossed in the aftereffects of that awkward exchange to reach out first, not to mention most of your attention going to your first job here in Hawkins. Despite your nerves, you did surprisingly well on Thursday and Friday night. Enough to get a small smile to bristle Ron’s bearded face and a mutter about maybe needing to get a new name tag ready. You were unbelievably cheery over the praise and acceptance, but you still had one more test to pass: weekend shifts. Those were their busiest, especially Saturday nights. If you make it from 4 o’clock to midnight with no major screw ups then you had the job. He promised.

So yes, you were actively avoiding being the first one to call, but to be fair you were also trying to attend to other aspects of your new life in Hawkins. Your focus was being diverted to getting this job, and spending time with Martha. You were distracted by moments of promising renewal in anticipation of the growing presence of Autumn — despite the crushing embarrassment of the other night.

That didn’t mean you weren’t thinking of him, though. If you weren’t shaking off the recent memory of Wednesday night, then you were indulging in the recent memory of Wednesday night. Him having you over; you making him tea; feeling close to him again as you exchanged stories — laughing together and smiling so hard the muscles in your cheeks hurt a little. The kind of pure smile you only got when you were with Eddie.

You thought about him as you styled your hair in a manner that helped to boost your confidence but wouldn’t get in your way during your shift. You couldn’t believe he had his own place, no matter how “shitty” he said it was. You couldn’t believe he was a tattooed mechanic and had hair. That was the real kicker for you. He didn’t have it shaved so close that he felt like a peach when you patted at the top of his head just to get on his nerves.

He had those long spirals that you wanted to reach across his small kitchen counter and swirl around your finger. Those curls inspired a habit of tilting his head to let his big brown eyes hide under his messy bangs; or sometimes he toyed with his curls to pull a chunk of it in front of his face. It was fascinating to see the way his features and behaviors have adapted to adulthood. Back home he was harassed daily for his “feminine” features, so the fluttery lashes and full lips were nothing new. But now he had grown into his generous mouth and his doe eyes, and so much of his youthful softness had made way for sharp definition — particularly in his jawline and cheekbones. He’s actually grown into the kind of person that intimidated you even if he was just Eddie. He made your palms sweat and had you thinking over every little thing you said. Y’know, things like Loo-ddie. You tried to reassure yourself that you only had nerves because you wanted to have him as a best friend again so badly, but some self-aware part of you knew the signs of an impending crush. Why couldn’t you have some self-control? Why did you have to gush over just about every man who showed you an ounce of kindness?

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you even had brief heart eyes for Ron after seeing how sweet he was with Sandy. It made you yearn for what they had, and you recognized it was more about wanting such a wholesome relationship of your own than wanting someone twice your age, but you still felt ashamed about it. What’s wrong with you? You needed to let bosses stay bosses, and you needed to let best friends stay best friends. You needed Eddie to be a friend, you needed to keep those boundaries in place so you couldn’t ruin everything like always. He’s special, and you can’t just throw yourself at him and offer to give him whatever he wants just so you could feel like his everything — even if it’s only for a few minutes.

You glance at your hands now and fight the urge to chip away at your freshly painted nails to appease your low spirits. You sit with these thoughts for a moment, swallowing moisture back into your throat that felt too tight; then you forced yourself away from the cramped motel bathroom to finish getting ready for your shift. You couldn’t let yourself slip up and distract yourself with your own misery — it was Saturday, and this was your final step towards success. A measly success of a server job at a small-town bar, but you had to put a positive spin on it.

You couldn’t focus on self-loathing, and you couldn’t focus on Eddie.

“A new girl?” Eddie groaned as he rolled his sleeves up to the bends of his elbows. “The last time we had a new person I had to watch him every fucking second cause he had no clue what he was doing — shit, he even stole from you, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Ron muttered bitterly, never happy about the reminder that someone had been sneaking cash out from under his nose. “She’s pretty good though. Real sweet and does her job.”

“I dunno… do we really need the help?”

“Kevin is back at school. We really need the help,” Ron chuckled, but felt a pang of sadness right to his chest knowing his youngest was back at college — or even in college in the first place — all the same. “Don’t be so sour. She’s a good kid.”

Eddie grumbled irritably but didn’t pester him any further. It was no use anyways. If Ron set his mind on something, then he wasn’t letting up. Sure, it made sense considering it’s his business, but he’s also stubborn as a bull and that quality had a history of surpassing logic sometimes.

About a quarter to four, Eddie was in the back when the bell rang.

“Well look at you, all nice and early again. You suckin’ up?” he heard Ron asking playfully, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

Great. A suck-up.

Just what he needed. Some goody two-shoes setting a new standard that he wouldn’t meet. He was lucky if he was on time in the first place with how much he slept in on the weekends, but Ron was always cutting him slack. Jus’ a small-town bar he’d say whenever Eddie scrambled into the building with an apology already slipping out at an incoherent pace.

He couldn’t hear the new girl’s reply, assuming it had been a nonverbal one rather than one so delicate and quiet that even Ron barely heard it before the novice made her way to the back.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve worked together yet and I just… wanted… to… Loogie…?”

At the sound of your voice, Eddie was already turning around from where he was opening the recent delivery. His perception of the moment seemed to have been placed in slow motion and suddenly he was heating up with flashbacks of Wednesday night. Called her a good girl, no joke, called her a good girl his mind droned on repeat just to torture him.

“Wha — hey,” he laughed casually and thankfully avoided choking on his own spit. He swallowed thickly and his brow furrowed as his voice came out painfully hoarse. “You’re the new girl?”

“Guess so. If I do well tonight,” you murmured with a small smile, toying with your hands.

You had painted your fingernails a rich burgundy, and his eyes zeroed in on the small strokes of color before looking up at you again.

“I’m sure you’ll be okay, Ron seems really impressed with you…” Eddie offered with a light laugh after clearing his throat, suddenly feeling sheepish around you again.

“Don’t go tellin’ her that! I don’t want her thinking she doesn’t have to work hard tonight!” Ron shouted from the front, pulling a snicker out of you.

You swiftly place your purse on a hook before continuing the conversation. Even if it wasn’t the end of the world if Ron heard your conversation, you took a few steps closer to Eddie and lowered your voice a touch.

“So… did the tea help at all…?” you ask, risking a mention of Wednesday night. You lifted one sneakered foot up onto your toes and shifted nervously before settling it back down as you waited on his reply.

Eddie’s lips pushed out in thought as he brought his attention back to the delivery of nuts and pretzels (really, he was looking for an excuse to not have to look at you as he thought of that night).

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks — really helped,” he offered a partial smile as his eyes flitted over to you before turning down again just a fast.

You press your lips together in a weak smile of your own and nod but fall silent. Instead of giving into your urge to pick at your polish, you run the pads of your fingers over the smooth surface of your nails instead.

“‘m sorry for that hug,” you finally blurt out with an uneasy laugh. “I just- I really thought that was why you were reaching over, and I didn’t want to be rude so-”

Eddie’s eyes widened and finally removed himself from his suddenly oh-so-interesting task.

“No no no, you don’t have to apologize,” he promised as he stretched back to his full height. “I should’ve been offering anyw- ah, shit.”

Eddie hissed as he glanced down at his hand. While replying with a fervent need to reassure you, he had thoughtlessly grabbed at the wrong end of the box cutter and sliced the pad of his thumb.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you rush over to him, instinctively cradling his hand with your own.

“Just a surface cut. Really.” Eddie chuckled. He really needed to go run it under cool water and bandage it, but he wasn’t ready to separate from you.

“What’s going on back there?” Ron questioned from the bar.

“Eddie cut his finger!” you replied as Eddie insisted “Nothing!” simultaneously.

Ron grumbled on his way to his back room that he had turned into a part kitchen, part break room, part delivery storage room. Surely there was some kind of code being broken there, but who cared? Clearly no one around Hawkins.

He eyed the way you two were situated but didn’t think much of it since you were probably just having a natural reaction to someone getting hurt.

“I swear…” he grumbled under his breath on his way over.

“You need to pay attention before you really hurt yourself one of these days,” Ron muttered, and grabbed Eddie’s wrist far harsher than when you reached out for him. “Aren’t you a mechanic? Don’t you know to watch where your hands are, kid?”

You cringed when he wiped at the spot with a rough napkin that sounded like it might as well have been sandpaper against the cut, then grunted.

“It’s fine. Just a bleeder,” he states with all the confidence of a certified physician and ruggedness of an old trucker before tugging up his jeans further into his partial beer gut and walking back out. “You know where the first aid kit is!”

“More than anyone,” Eddie added with a half grin to compliment his self-deprecation as he tilted his head, breathing out a soft laugh.

“Still accident prone, huh?” you ask with a slight scrunch to your nose and a lift to the corners of your lips, watching him head farther back in the multi-faceted room to the employee bathroom.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He tilted back out of the room to offer you a cheeky grin, his hair jostling with the motion and then again when he flicked his head to get it out of his face.

“Oh, I dunno… Coulda learned your lesson after face planting into gravel,” you offer with an innocent tone, taking a moment to clock in before sauntering over.

“Well considering that happened several times, you should know better than to assume I’d ever learn,” he whispered playfully, grinning over at you.

“Guess so,” you snort, leaning into the doorframe.

“Had to rough this face up, y’know? Really dedicate myself to becoming a man,” Eddie used a deeper, rougher tone of voice and puffed his chest out as he held a paper towel to his thumb.

“It’s a shame it didn’t work,” you pouted before laughing at the hurt look he donned.

“You wound me, truly,” he moved his good hand to his chest.

“Not as often as you do, apparently,”

“Touché, touché,” he sighed, unclasping the first aid kit and flipping it open. “You’re still a lil shit, y’know that?”

“Can’t help it. Haven’t had anyone to banter with in years,” your head settled against the wood of the doorframe and his own tilted to the side as he regarded you. That smirk of his toyed on his lips as he considered your words.

He’s about to reply — surely with some cheeky remark about you needing him — but Ron was calling before he got the chance.

“Make sure you’re wearing gloves today,” Ron muttered to Eddie without lifting his attention from whatever he was writing down.

“You never wear gloves,” Eddie countered with a childish huff. “Only rich-ass bars in the city give a shit about that crap.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t a health hazard,” he snickered, finally raising his gaze to point his pencil at Eddie’s bandaged finger. “Gloves. Now.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but pulled gloves from the box under the countertop anyways. You’re on the other side of the bar, sitting on a stool and a smile pulling at your lips. Elbows on the countertop and chin balancing on your fists, you watch him intently with little giggles sneaking out.

“Don’t encourage him,” Ron pleads gruffly at the sound of you laughing over Eddie making a big show of pulling out the gloves and slipping them onto his hands.

Once he let each glove snap into place at his wrists, Eddie outstretched his arms and displayed his new accessory.

“Eh? Nice, right? Definitely won’t make everything I touch taste like latex,” Eddie nudged his boss who gave him a less than pleased look, but you were sure he was muffling his own amusement.

“Wanna learn how to bartend?” Ron asks you now. “I think there’ll be an opening soon.”

At that, Eddie leans back with a belly laugh, his dimples sinking into his cheeks.

You had unfortunately started your shift with the assumption that they had been messing with you when Ron and Sandy warned you about Saturday nights. When you arrived just before 4 o’clock there was nearly no one there besides the occasional regular; then twenty minutes past 5 o’clock came along and you were blasted back to Sunday mornings at the diner. The place was packed full of people all chummy with one another, which was charming until they were several drinks in and decided they knew you just as well.

Not all of them, but enough of them were flirting with you at every opportunity; and you were forced to use your customer service manners to deal with them. So many fake smiles were starting to make your cheeks ache.

Returning to the back with an empty tray, you rub at the muscles in one cheek with your free hand. You almost forgot how much service work meant forcing a pleasant attitude and dealing with aching feet. God, that was killing you more than anything. When you were leaving the motel, your trusty sneakers were like walking on clouds. Now, you were certain you had been stomping around on needles.

The music didn’t exactly help with your shift either while trying to hear requests and reply, especially since you weren’t one to use a loud tone. Ron insisted on live music whenever he could get it and you understood the appeal, but the band playing tonight apparently didn’t know how to have a respectable volume set for performing indoors.

You could handle it and you knew you’d form a routine with the locals that rushed in on the weekends and you’d learn how to cope with deafening musicians — you just needed to adjust to your new job.

What you couldn’t handle, as you were quickly learning, was seeing Eddie bartend. It was such a simple act, and yet it left you slack jawed while trying to stay focused on dishing out the drinks he prepared to the right people.

Something about the gloved hands and the rolled-up sleeves as he moved around the bar with such ease left you in the shadow of a crush looming overhead again. His chain bracelet and that familiar beaded bracelet were stacked on one wrist; he even had a few faded tattoos you caught glimpses of in the dim lighting. Not to mention the moving musculature in his strong forearms as he poured and served and wiped with a sort of sloppy expertise. You noticed there wasn’t a lot of mixing around here just like back home. Just a whole lot of small-town people looking for simple alcohol. The older ones seemed partial to a basic glass of whiskey or beer; and the younger ones all hopped up on the fact that they could finally drink legally were requesting shots.

Eddie had tied his hair back in a low bun with the occasional curl rebelling and framing his face that seemed to only be smiling or thinly veiling irritation whenever a mean drunk bitched about him not pouring enough. Either way it truly was something to behold.

As much as his looks should’ve been a passing thought, considering your place as an old friend, they insisted on lingering. You were still adjusting to knowing him this way and the odd disposition between knowing him like no one else and not knowing him at all continued to present a disorienting mix of feelings. The possibility of such complications never occurred to you when you became dead set on coming here, and you hated that you didn’t see it coming or brace yourself for it. Now you were stumbling through moving here for a childhood best friend and winding up finding a man in his place.

Then, of course, your thoughts circled back to your history with men. Don’t go there, don’t go there.

You let out a small sigh and checked the clock. 11:11. So close. So, so close. Before you knew it, it would be time to leave. Glancing at your notepad, you go over what that guy in the sweat stained sports tee asked for his cheap nachos. Extra jalapeños. He insisted on extra jalapeños and went into way too much detail of how “he’d be paying for it in the morning, but they’re just so damn good.”

“Having fun?” Eddie asked after his plodding jog to the back.

“Oh, you bet. An absolute blast,” you laughed, pouring the molten cheese over the thin tortilla chips. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Break,” Eddie answered simply as he flopped down in a chair in the small corner of the space dedicated to the employees. “Ron and Sandy got the bar for now.”

“Ahh,” you hum, spooning the jalapeños on top of the mountain of ingredients.

“Y’know, you’re pretty good at the whole bartending thing. It’s actually kinda cool,” you admitted, glancing over your shoulder to smile over at him.

“I just pour alcohol for the local drunks, but thanks,” Eddie laughed diffidently over the compliment, sliding his metal lunch box closer to get to his baggie of pretzels.

“Is that your dinner?” You ask now, fighting to keep the conversation alive. You’d take talking about pretzels over a lull in conversation.

“Oh uh--” he glanced down at the bag. “I might make something when I get home if I have enough energy.”

“You better. Or I’ll be forced to come over again. Pretzels aren’t dinner.”

“Oh, I see,” Eddie grinned. “Then you can come over and I can make a fool of myself again.”

“It’s okay, I’ll do it too. It’ll balance everything out,” you offered, placing the hot plate on your tray.

“Oh, well there we go. Long as we’re both fools, then it should be okay,” he agreed with feigned seriousness to your proposal then let his smile curl up his lips again.

“Of course,” you matched his endearing expression. “We’re always fools.”

“Always fools…” he tested aloud while leaning back to teeter the metal foldout chair back and forth.

“I concur, Critter.”

“They’re awfully chummy, hm?” Sandy whispered to Ron as she watched you two interact while cleaning up for the night.

“Yeah. I hate it,” Ron grumbled out, scrubbing at a stain. “He better not scare her off. She’s a good waitress.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sandy sighed, nudging her hip into his. “I think it’s sweet. And he’s a good kid, I don’t see him hurting her — let alone enough to cost us an employee.”

“So, we’re definitely keeping her ‘round?”

“Yes, we settled on that this morning — would you quit avoiding the topic?” She urged and Ron groaned as he stretched his back.

“It’s alright, I guess. Jus’ don’t want any drama around here. Too old for it.”

“So, I didn’t scare you off?” Eddie asked as you cleaned off tables together.

“Scare me off?” you repeated, glancing over at him. “Why’d you say that?”

Eddie eyed you through his lashes then looked back down at the same spot he’s wiped down probably six times now.

“Well, you brought up coming over again,” he let out a soft chuckle. “So, I’m guessing I wasn’t that much of an idiot on Wednesday?”

“Oh psh — please,” you laughed it off, standing up straighter after swiping the rag over the tabletop one more time. “If anything, I was being stupid.”

“Oh, I wasn’t saying you weren’t being stupid,” Eddie joked with that obnoxiously gorgeous grin, finally separating from that same table he kept cleaning. He sauntered over to you, his amusement and proximity warming you as he looked down at you. “Just that I was also stupid.”

“I’d say you were especially stupid, but I was trying to be nice,” you shot back in a dulcet tone, grinning up at him.

“Be nice?” Eddie repeated with a huff of disbelief, grinning when that earned him a jab to his side. “Gone soft on me, Critter? Not the same girl that’ll throw a remote at my head?”

“I only did that if you were particularly annoying while I was trying to watch TV,” you laughed, nudging his chest to just barely make him stumble back. Not that it discouraged that man who only smiled brighter.

“Well then, I guess I have an excuse for being such an idiot all the time. You really knocked something loose all those times you hit me with that remote.”

“Sure, it was me that knocked something loose,” you teased in a giggle, making your way over to the last couple of tables. Your laughter only builds up at the face he gives you — both playfully hurt and encouraged to get you back.

Within seconds you noticed the way he started to twist up his rag, and you were squealing and rushing away from him. Eddie chased after you and whipped at you with the towel whenever he got the chance, occasionally jamming his hip into a table or a chair with a breathy “Oof.” Amongst your squeaks of empty fear, you were still cackling and tried to get him back with your own towel.

“Children!” Ron suddenly announced, and you two slowed down to a stop — still breathless and giggly. “I’m old and would like to go to sleep. Maybe finish cleaning before flirting?”

Sandy gave him a look that could kill for that, then followed Eddie’s example and whipped at his behind with a rag.

Both of your faces flushed at the accusation, but thankfully weren’t forced to sit with the embarrassment of being called out by Ron. Instead, all your attention went to cackling over Ron’s tired reaction to his wife snapping a towel at his ass.

He looked genuinely angry for a moment, and then he was clearing his throat and wiping the bar cleaner off his hands and twisting up his own towel.

“Nope — no — Ron,” Sandy started with a warning tone, but she was already laughing, slowly backing away.

“Gotta play fair,” Ron pointed out and whipped at her thigh. That was enough to send Sandy squealing and Ron chased after her to the back room while the two of you leaned into your laughter.

You’d do anything for a love like that.

“Still not a fan of pretzels for dinner?” Eddie chanced a glance over at you with a lazy, half grin as he toyed with his keys and walked you over to your car.

“Definitely not a fan of pretzels for dinner,” you answered, laughing under your breath and nudging his hip with your own.

“It’s a shame cause y’know,” Eddie yawned dramatically as he stretched out his arms and then flopped into the side of your car. “I’m real tired. If someone doesn’t follow through with their offer, that’s for sure all I’ll be having.”

You tilted your head, feeling that post-customer service ache to your cheeks as you fought the urge to smile at this absolute idiot leaning against your car. His elbow was propped up on the roof, his fist supporting his head and squishing his cheek.

“I don’t know if I have the energy to cook right now,” you sighed, doing your best to match his drama. “But you know what?”

“What, Critter?” He hummed, shoving himself away from the car to move a few stray hairs from your face and in that moment, you might as well have melted into the cracked and sun-bleached pavement. “I’m invested. Do go on.”

“I can buy us fast food,” you whispered to provide a surreptitious air to burgers and fries. Screw it. You’ve been good about eating real food. Maybe it was time to associate these meals with something positive for once. Whatever excused your addiction to excessive oil and salt.

“Ah, much better than pretzels,” he laughed, shoving one of his hands into his jacket pocket. “I’d be honored.”

“Just like old times,” him being closer to you to move some hair out of your face encouraged you to toy with one of the pins on his coat. A soft breeze swirled through the parking lot, and you were both reminded of how stuffy and smoke-filled work had been as you breathed the fresh air in. You caught the scent of a distant bonfire, but it was nothing like the cloud of tobacco back in The Hideout. The chill of the air combined with the musk of a faraway fire spoke of Fall, sweetening your already pleasant mood.

“Remember that time we got large pizzas for both of us on movie night?”

“Yeah,” Eddie let out a soft laugh. “You threw up on the carpet.”

“Yeah, and you got in trouble for using your dad’s credit card,” you add a small giggle of your own, just for your heart to sink at the shift in his expression. You shuffled in your spot.

“Sorry… I probably shouldn’t… I shouldn’t keep bringing him up,” you muttered, dropping your hand away from his W.A.S.P. pin.

“No — no, no it’s okay really,” Eddie was quick to reassure you, but your mood was still steadily spoiling and dragging the pit of your stomach down with it at even a glimpse of him being bothered by you. Upset, angry, annoyed, fed up — whatever it was. You were certainly paying the cost of your penchant for nostalgia, and even the aroma of an early October night couldn’t save you.

“I like talking about when we were kids,” he added in a hushed tone that eased your spiral a touch. You glanced up at him through your lashes. “Really. I do. Makes me feel… ah, I don’t know.”

He admitted that last comment with a huff. It was filtered through amusement over his inability to speak before he rolled his lower lip inward in thought. Both of his hands were shoved in his pockets now and he swayed in his spot while kicking a piece of gravel forward. He finally released his lower lip again which was left with a slight sheen to it now, and he settled on a shrug of defeat. He couldn’t think of what he wanted to say.

You stared at him, this impromptu moment of softness burning through you in a way you weren’t expecting. Just as he couldn’t understand exactly why he enjoyed discussing his childhood as long as it was with you — you couldn’t understand the sudden pang of nausea that came from hanging onto his words and just to drop down over a noncommittal shrug. Your anxiety barreled into you in a sudden flash, leaving you somewhere in between the pain and the comfort of clinging to the past with him.

“Makes me feel cared about, I guess. Especially since we haven’t been friends in a while,” he finally concluded. “You don’t have to remember any of that stuff, but you do… it’s nice.”

“We’re always friends,” you insisted with a small smile, doing your best to not let everything fall apart over that once brief change of expression especially since things were looking up again.

“Yeahhh, you’re alright…,” Eddie murmured. “I guess I’ll keep you.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” you snort, attempting to move him to the side so you can get to your car, just for him to reach out a hand to settle on your upper arm. He gently urged you to turn around as he pushed himself off your car again.

“C’mon, I’ll drive. I don’t trust that thing,” Eddie insisted as he kept a careful hold on your elbow while guiding you towards his van.

“What?” you question, looking back at your lonely car. “I’ve had her forever, she’s perfectly safe… I can’t just leave her here.”

“Your brake pads are shit.”

“What?” you ask again with a slight pout and furrowed brows.

“When you visited me the other day,” he started with a light laugh to buffer his confession. “Your car sounded like it was screaming when you were parking.”

You reached his van that had aged gracefully over the years with a mechanic at its beck and call. Eddie unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for you, but you couldn’t stop looking at your car.

“She’s just tired s’all,” you frown, feeling guilty over abandoning an inanimate object no matter how silly it felt.

“She’s just gonna kill you if you don’t replace your brake pads s’all,” Eddie leaned into you with his mocking whisper. Your sad glance up at him is enough to make his playful expression falter. His heavy and dramatic exhale already pulls a smile back onto your face, knowing he was caving in some way or another.

“I’ll bring ‘er to Thach’s and replace them for you,”

“Thank you, Loogie,” you swooned, and he rolled his eyes over your excessively cooing tone.

You were lucky to have favoritism on your side.

“Give it to me straight, doc. Will she make it?”

Eddie glanced over at you with a faux glare.

“How many times are you going to ask me that?”

“I dunno, how many times are you going to squint at me instead of answering?”

“You know I’m doing this for free right? After hours? After already working my second job all night?”

“Ooo, you sound like such an adult,” you squeeze your shoulders up to your ears with a grin, a brown bag stocked with artery-clogging goodness on your lap. He shook his head at you, looking away again to hide his poorly masked amusement. He could say all he wanted about doing this for free, but you could still give him a hard time. He was getting paid whether he wanted it or not. Even if he didn't accept it from you personally, you'd at least leave cash at the front desk and ask the nice receptionist to give it to him.

“Alright, c’mere,” he waved you over eventually. You perked up, moving out of the hard plastic chair in the garage where you left the fast food in your place. “And can you bring that display over? On the table?”

Nodding, you snatched it on your way over to Eddie and kneel beside him.

“Okay so,” he started off with a sigh. Not a great sign.

“Best case scenario, your brake pads look like this,” a greasy index finger points to one of the pads on display before moving to the one next to it. “This is how they’d look with a more moderate amount of wear to them – not great and you'll want to replace them, and then this is how they look when you need to get them replaced ASAP.”

“And this is your brain on drugs,” you chimed in with the theme, before shrinking under the look he gave you.

“Sorry,” you murmured, even though he broke and smiled over your bad joke.

You returned to observing the gradual decline in buffers on the display and shrug a bit.

“Okay, so what about Sherry?”

Eddie groaned as he leaned back to grab the discarded piece of metal and held it up to show you. It looked like a flat, grimy cracker in comparison to the examples on the display.

“They’re practically just the backing plates at this point, I don’t know how you’re not dead,” the piece clinked against the cement floor when he dropped it back down. “How long have they been squealing?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he became visibly pained by the way you had to think about it. It wasn’t coming from a patronizing, “how can you be so dumb” kind of place, but rather it stemmed from the anxiety of knowing you were driving around like this.

“I dunno… I noticed a while ago, so I just played my music louder,” you shrugged, and Eddie snorted amidst his distress. He sat up more to lean his back on Sherry. “But then I had to start stomping on the brakes way before I usually would to stop in time.”

“Yeah, that’s generally not a great sign,” he snickered as you started to.

“I’m so sorry, Sherry…” you frowned despite your previous giggling, raising a hand to caress one of her doors. Eddie lifted himself up off the ground with a grunt, heading over to a sink to wash his hands. You crane your neck to follow him, dropping your hand down from your car and start playing with the creeper, rolling it back and forth.

“So, she’ll get some new brake pads and she’ll be as good as new?”

“Well, I don’t want to just replace those, I’ll check out the whole braking system,” Eddie turned to face you completely, wiping the remaining water and suds off his hands. He grabbed the bag you left on the seat and made his way back to you.

“How’d you learn all this stuff?” you asked, thanking him as he handed you your burger before taking a monstrous bite out of his own.

“Uh, my uncle taught me,” he said around his food, sucking a bit of ketchup off the side of his thumb. You noticed the sad glance down to the floor, so you backed off. You didn’t need another moment like earlier when you brought up his dad again.

“I just can’t get over the fact that you’re a grown up…” you murmured to yourself, looking down at your meal. Eddie eyed you as he kept chomping away at his food. The horrid sound that you’ve always despised motivated you to look up at him again, and laughter bloomed from your chest at the sight of the mess around his mouth. His chewing slowed as he blinked his big eyes at you. Gulp.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You still eat like an obnoxious kid,” you teased, kicking a foot out to nudge him and pull multiple napkins out of the bag for him.

He simply shrugged in response with a cheeky grin, accepting the napkins that he unceremoniously smeared over his lips.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to be here,” he raised his hands up in defense now, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah, I am…” you murmured, leaning your head back against Sherry as a fond smile formed on your lips while you watched him start to dig through the bag for any stray fries to add to his container. He shoved most of them right into his mouth before glancing at you again.

“What?”

“Nothing… just happy to have my best friend back,” you murmured, and he silently melted at the sincerity. God, did he feel lucky for once.

You take a beat before outstretching your arm to present him with your downturned hand with just your pinky out. Eddie recognized the old gesture and wiped his hand on his pants, despite the napkins at his disposal, before reaching his own hand out. Interlocking pinkies was of course typical of some childish pact which the two of you did plenty of times as kids, but sometimes you sought this out simply for a moment of comfort. It made you feel held and even as kids, Eddie had the emotional maturity to understand how lonely you felt because of your family. So, when you needed someone to hold your pinky, he was there. The only difference was now his pinky was closer to the width of your thumb and nearly swallowed your pinky whole when he wrapped it around yours. Just another adjustment to Eddie being an adult, which left an unlaughed snicker in your chest at the realization, but it comforted you all the same.

And this night in a dingy old garage after a long shift was easily the best night you’d had in years.

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kirihotto · 1 month

Text

Forget.Him. PT.2{Jimin X Reader 18+}

→ Warnings: Sexual asst. topics suggested (Not aimed at Jimin),

→ Rating: 18+ Minors are prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content.

→ Genre: Mending relationship

→ Summary: You and Jimin just broke up. And by no means was it mutual. Honestly the reason why you dumped him was stupid. You were self conscious. Scared you weren't good enough for him compared to the many fans he has. The feelings are there. But you try to ignore them and Jimin's many texts and calls. But something get in the way of your plan.

→ Word Count: 3 010

Disclaimer: All members are face and name claims for the story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. All works are purely for entertainment purposes.

Published: 03/28 / 24

Inspiration: (Strangers Kenya Grace) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgd5Bv7vefY

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“L-let me go.” I demanded. He smirked at me with not a word but tightened his grip. My eyes started burning once again filled with small fresh tears. Digging my nails into his hand I barely freed myself just as I was about to B line it to the door. Chang in close range. Someone stopped me.

“We are leaving.”

Everyone froze. I hadn't realized who it was at first. The person's arm that had been wrapped around me. Wearing a biker helmet with dark tinted lens a black leather jacket. Although I couldn't see through the helmet. I could tell by the voice and scent. Roses. It was Jimin. He had left the helmet on for his identity I'm sure.

“Ohh are you the EX boyfriend?” Chang mocked. Jimin gripped my shoulder after his comment. A wave of guilt rushed through me. Regretting every action I had made to lead me here. I looked up at Jimin, he let his arm off of me. Instead he grabbed my wrist and tugged me out the door. Chang quickly followed, shooting random insults at me I didn't hear past my thoughts.

The cold rain instantly stuck to my sweater. Jimin had led me quickly behind the diner into the staff parking near the garbage bins. Not much to my surprise there were bags of garbage, but among them not far away was a motorcycle. Jimin grabbed my attention away from the bike, removing his helmet. Saying not a word but brushing the slight runny makeup from my face. His hands were even cooler than the rain as they met my flushed cheeks. While his sharp eyes were tired and filled with concern. Locked on mine. We both stood in the cold rain as it poured down on us. He leaned closer and tucked a stray wet hair behind my ear. Our gaze not shifting. Until suddenly Jimin placed the helmet over my head.

“We’re gonna get wet. But this is the best I've got right now.” Jimin spoke as he grabbed another helmet from the bike's storage. Swinging his leg over the jet black bike. Starting the engine the lights came on with a rumble. Pushing back his silky black hair he pulled the helmet on. Then turned to me with a visible sigh in his shoulders.

Jimin patted the seat behind him, encouraging me to hop on. As I was left speechless. Making my way toward the bike, I hesitantly sat with my hands in my lap. Doing everything in my power not to sob like a baby again. Jimin’s head lowered in front of my view. His hand reached behind him in search of mine. Once again he pulled my wrist toward him, Although this time I knew what he had meant.

“I don't know what you're thinking right now. But you have to hold on to me to be safe. Make sure your bag is secure.” He warned me shouting slightly over the sound of the engine. I clung onto Jimin as soon as the words left his mouth. Tucking all my belongings in my purse I swung it flesh to my body and under my soaked sweater. As soon as we started to move I clung onto him even tighter.

Feeling his warmth against the fast cold chill from damp clothes. The warmth I had been longing for. I sobbed spouting my feelings out knowing he couldn't hear a word over the engine and traffic. Resting my head against his back slightly. I felt my warm tears running down my face as my hands shook from the grip on his waist. Either from the cold or my body exhausted from the constant tears. I'm sure he could feel me shaking, though his focus remained dead ahead.

We reached a red light and came to a stop. The wet pavement casting hues from the city lights. Catching my breath for a moment I felt Jimin’s hand rest on mine. We had sat at the red light in silence as he held onto my hand. I had wanted nothing more than him to never let go. The light flashed back to green and he let my hand go. Back to driving. Although I knew we weren't far away from his place.

Like clockwork we had pulled into his parking space. We both got off the bike without a word. I took off my helmet and gave it back to Jimin. He took it in one hand and instantly went for his door. Not as much as looking at me. The rain had eased up just as I made my way inside right behind him. I felt like a kid who had run away from home. Just to be dragged back by their mother.

The two helmets sat halfheartedly on the black mat in front of the door. Once I got inside Jimin slammed the door, pinning me to the backside of it. I didn't dare do anything but look at the floor. My soaked vans. We stood in silence for a moment. The sound of the rain splattering off the doorstep. The glow of the soft yellow outdoor light, the only one on. I could feel my body temperature dropping from the wet attire. Jimin had backed away from me with another sigh.

“So. Why aren't you answering my calls? Ignoring me for that idiot?” He spat out in disgust. My gaze flew up to meet him in an instant.

“W-we broke.. Up.. so I just forgot to reply..” I sputtered out. A flood of fiery anxiety filled my words. So much so I could hear it. Although I knew this would be it. My last chance to push him away. I had to do everything in my power to do so. After accepting my fate I looked down to the floor again. Clutching onto the strap from my purse. My hands shaking. We stood in silence once again. The faint sound of water dripping off of us. Jimin had his arms crossed in front of me. I could feel his intense gaze on me.

“Hm. Am I really that forgetful? You can't seem to keep my name out of that mouth.” Jimin stated with a hint of rage. He must've known what I was up to. My gaze flew up to meet him in an instant yet again as I gasped for air.

“I-!" The fire traveled up to my throat scorning my tongue. I searched Jimin’s eyes for an answer. Even though I was the one who held them all.

“Well, Care to explain?" Jimin asked again. He took a step closer to me, his dark hair dripping in his face. Like a shadow looming over me. I'm sure he knew. Somewhere in his mind he knew I wasn't really over him. Not at all. I was doing everything in my power not to throw myself into his arms. Shaking like a leaf under his intense gaze, I don't dare look at. Jimin lowered his head, his hand sliding back his wet hair. “Don't move.”

He warned me. Jimin wandered down the hall for a brief moment. In that moment I could catch my breath and say what needed to be said. Not what I had desired. I heard something hit the floor and the slam of a door. Returning without his soaked leather jacket and had on a white chanel T shirt. It had been soaked through enough to see his tattoos. As well as he had a towel hung around his neck, another in hand. He came over to me again, stretching the towel in out both hands.

“Here, lean forward your shaking.” He stated ever so softly after nearly growling at me. I did as he said and leaned forward a little. My face was met with his neckline and a wave of his comforting scent washed over me. His movements were gentle and slow. A towel placed around my neck as well. Jimin was about to pull back from me again, I stopped him from meeting my tearful gaze once again. Embracing him. Upon doing so I felt him flinch slightly. I buried my face into his tense shoulder. I felt a warm hand around my back, the feeling I'd been longing for. I felt Jimin sigh.

“Seriously. Tell me. what's going on..”

After his words I flinched. Right I was supposed to be getting away from him.. But.. I grabbed onto his shirt tighter.

“I-.. I’m not good enough.” I mumbled into his shoulder.

“Hm? What did you say?” Jimin spoke softly as we held each other. I paused for a moment. I pushed him off of me and held onto his shoulders looking him dead in the eyes.

“I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH! You have hundreds of thousands hell i'd say MILLIONS of fans! People dying to meet you! Even famous people dying to meet you! I’m not worthy of the title of YOUR lover! Are you kidding me?!.. What would your fans think of- of me? Look at me. I'm standing here crying on your patio after I dumped you. On top of that I dumped one of the most popular men in the world. I’m a low class nobody with no beauty or talent..” I shouted out all the thoughts that had been in my mind when I had dumped him. On a rainy day similar to this…

“This is why you dumped me?.. Cut me off..” Jimin spoke, his gaze starstruck as I released my hold on him. Looking for an answer. Those sweet tired eyes. He placed a hand on my cheek again. The small action filled with love. Our eyes locked on eachother again. “I don't think I've ever been this mad at someone I love.”

I flinched from his words. Eyes not meeting mine. Although his hand hasn't moved from my face.

“Why can't you see? Just how amazing you are.” Jimin smiled at me softly. He brushed the tears off my cheeks again. “I chose you. I don't want anyone else. I have fans. People who want to meet me of a ‘higher class.’ That I won't deny. I've wanted to share with the world how lucky I am to have someone like you in my life. Even more so as a lover. I had asked you before, don't you remember? I know you don't want to be seen as a sort of Idol or in the public view in this way. I haven't said a word.”

I nodded in response. This was all true. The weight of Millions of eyes on me. Was something I didn't want.

“So.. THAT’S WHY I'M SO MAD!! I HAVE NEVER BEEN MAD AT ARMY BUT I'M STARTING TO WONDER IF I SHOULD BE! If they make you worry this much. I don't want to lose the one I hold dearest because of something like that.” Jimin yelled letting out his frustrations too. Tucking my hair all out of my face. He used the towel around my neck to dry it. “But listen. ARMY means the world to me, yes. ARMY is my family. But you. You're my love. Where I belong. There is enough room for everyone in my heart. Especially if that someone is you.”

“I.. I’m sorry..” I replied, dropping my head down again. Only for it to be lifted back up by Jimin's soft hand.

“Don't be sorry. Just talk to me. I didn't know this was bugging you this much. You're more than enough. In my eyes you're perfect. Even though I know you haven't seen it yet. Don't ever talk down about yourself. We are all only human. Emotions in just one price we pay either for good or bad.” Jimin reassured me. I grabbed the towel from his hands and threw it to the floor. Catching him by surprise. I nearly jumped into his embrace. “Woah- ok. I guess this means you're done ignoring me? Then? Or are you still dumping me cause I was late to realize all this-”

“NO! I’m not letting you go anywhere! I love-!” Just as I was about to proclaim my love once again, He had made a move of his own. Kissing me lovingly. Slowly. He held my body close to his, as his arms wrapped around my back. Our clothes, still wet. Clinging to each other. I could feel his muscles through his cold wet clothes. Our body warmth. Slowly he leaned his face back from me. Our bodies entangled.

“I love you. Now please stop shedding those tears. I’m here for you.” Jimin's tired eyes had seemingly been filled with content. I was filled with a longing. Making up for ‘missed time’. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and kissed him again. He had almost melted into me. “You have no idea how close I was to kissing you even as you were crying.”

“W-wait-” I realized what a beast I had just unleashed. After he spoke he kissed me again. Repeatedly over and over. Tightening his grip on my waist. Between kisses he mumbled something under his breath. “Open your mouth.”

I did as he said slowly and almost awkwardly. Jimin had never been this.. Demanding before. As soon as he had an opening he slid his tongue between my quivering lips with a moan. Like he’s devouring me whole. Under his intense kisses I let out small whimpers of my own. My face flustered as I gave myself to him. His kiss, addictive like a drug. Sliding my hands back up his chest and over his shoulders I felt him flinch a little. Adding fuel to the fire I had started. Jimin broke off the kiss. Leaving us both panting.

“Ahh..Mmm you remember our safe word hm?” Jimin questioned suddenly through breaths. We had set boundaries like this the first time we had sex together. But we haven't brought it up or used the word ever. It was shocking to say the least. But I knew we weren't going anywhere. I nodded, not meeting his gaze again. “Don't look away from me..”

Feeling his chest rise and fall rhythmically so. He unzipped my sweater slowly as he inched his face closer to mine once again. The single sound of the zipper rang through the hall as it quickly hit the floor. As he kissed me again, sliding his tongue between my lips with a smirk I could only feel. Jimin’s cold hands wandered my back, letting a small whimper escape me between harsh kisses. The strap of my purse I had clung onto desperately in prior moments, slid off my shoulder and landed on the floor. I had missed him so much his touch was driving me insane. I had opened my eyes briefly to be met with a lustful gaze devouring me.

“Hmm?” Jimin growled a little leaving a peck on my lips. “Someone’s getting confident. Daring to take a glance at me like this.”

“I.. uhm.. Yeah..” All words escaped me as my lungs were clawing for air. We hadn't moved from the entrance since we had walked in. Now a small growing collection of items on the floor under our feet. Jimin and I stood embracing each other as our eyes were locked. His eyes, easy to read, holding the sharp glint of lust. He suddenly slid his cold hand under the back of my crop top. I moaned out from shock. “Ah-uh!”

“H-hey. Your hands are freezing.”

“I think you mean we're freezing. We're both standing here in the hallway dripping wet.” Jimin retorted, sliding his hands about under the back of my top. Tracing my shoulders. Suddenly he leaned down resting his head on my shoulder. His wet hair cold against my flushed skin. My hands resting on Jimin’s tense shoulders. “Hm.. I love you so much. Don't do that again.”

He growled, although it was more like sulking. He licked a trail up my neck, pulling the collar on my top down a little. Revealing more of my neck. Leaving feathered kisses around my neck as I felt myself turning flustered. Seriously this was too much. My head was already spinning from the whiplash of emotions from tonight. I felt his hand tense trying to bring me even closer to him. Suddenly he bit down on my neck.

“Ahh~!” A moan ripped through my throat by my own surprise. By reflex I went to cover my mouth. Jimin had caught my arm. His warm breath fanning over the mark I'm sure he had left.

“No... Don't cover your mouth. I want to hear you.” He mumbled into my neck leaving more soft kisses. I felt his lips curl into a smirk as he pulled away. We were untangled for only a moment. Jimin ripped his shirt off and slammed it onto the floor. His hair is still wet, dripping a little as he shakes it out of his eyes. His muscles and figure damp from the rain. As my eyes traveled I was met with a not so shocking discovery. A visible bulge in his tight black jeans. “See something you like?”

Jimin teased as he chuckled a little and shook his head. My face had turned bright red the moment I had made eye contact. Stepping back toward me, he took my hand and placed it on his bare chest. I felt his heartbeat. Beating nearly as fast as mine.

“Only you do this to me” Jimin gestured to his whole body. Flustered again by his sly words I looked away. Although I took my chance and slid my hand down his form, feeling his abs quiver under my touch. There was something satisfying about the feeling.

“Only you.. make me think about.. things like this.” I said my gaze meeting Jimin’s abdomen. Before I knew what was coming he was devouring me again. The thought in the back of my mind why he had asked me about the safe word. Like he had known what I was thinking he placed a hand on my hip the other on my face. Pulling our hips together. The feeling makes me flinch, my knees weak. He had taken me and switched places with me. His back now in front of the door, encouraging me to walk down the hall. Although I'm not entirely sure how easy it'd be with him still devouring me.

“Mm- where are- we- mm going?” I questioned between kisses. Jimin paused for a moment

“A place you're quite familiar with.” He smirked. I tapped him on the chest with my fist for a brief moment. Before he took said hand we arrived in his room. His scent was overwhelmingly strong, my body flustered at the thought. I sat down on the bed, my knees about to collapse beneath me. My body begging for me to call out to him. As he stood above me. Jimin undid his belt although did not toss it to the floor rather, he climbed on top of me. Smothering me in more kisses. As he tugged at the hem of my shirt he looked up at me as almost a confirmation. The wet shirt then whisked off my form as Jimin was now fully on top of me. Leaving one soft kiss on my cheek as he pulled away. ‘Now then, let’s see those hands.”

“W-wait! You're not serious.” I nearly sat up in shock. Although he pushed me back down, sliding his hand down my torso. The dots finally connecting in my head. Not that I had not trusted him. Rather I wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of him. It wasn't helping how he was looming over me wet and shirtless. He seemed to have other plans, tying my hands together with his black leather belt. “J-jimin hang on. Please I-”

“These feelings aren't going anywhere. And now. Neither are you.”

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #fanfic #bts #jimin x reader #bts jimin #park jimin #bts jimin fanfic #jimin

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stardustgreta · 2 years

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sticky, sweet [e. munson]

song: "art deco" - lana del rey

summary: stiffling summer heat in hawkins, your bestfriends trailer.

warnings: smut!! 18+ only.. talk of drugs, and getting high. high sex, jealous eddie, brat reader (not for long), unprotected sex, creampie, name calling (like once), kind of sweet sex, soft eddie, praising, dirty talk, unestablished relationship.

word count: 3.2k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

note: im sorry if this is like, not up to my usual standards i tried to throw something together because i havent posted in like god knows how long. forgive me if its like blah.. reblogs/likes and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

when i write for eddie munson, it will always be with THIS eddie munson in mind… i love him here

masterlist | taglist

the loud, prying sound of your thighs sticking and unsticking together through dried and newly forming sweat made you groan in constant uncomfort. the windows, doors and all possible fans had been opened and whirring throughout eddie’s stuffy trailer, the summer heat had been beating down especially hard on hawkins this summer. there was a comfortable silence between you both, eddie splayed across the couch in only his boxers and a cropped hellfire shirt, with you taking a spot on the floor with your limbs stretched out in an attempt to ease the pain of the succumbing heat, in nothing but a pair of the shortest denim shorts you could find and a top that could barely be classified as one. the tv had been playing some rerun of street hawk, a show eddie insisted was canceled far too early.

“can you change this? we’ve seen this episode twice already..” you spoke in a soft but blatantly annoyed voice, eddie unbothered as usual. he decided that ignoring you would be his best bet, instead opting for taking another drag of the blunt you had been passing back and forth.

with an eyebrow quirk, and a knowing smirk from eddie you lifted yourself up onto your elbows. eddie remained glued to the small, antenna run television in an attempt to feign ignorance.

there was an unspoken unconventional relationship between you and eddie, something not even the two of you were able to explicitly explain to anyone who asked if you two were more than friends. you and eddie had both been friends for years, and it was known amongst pretty much the entirety of the school the you were both exclusively “non-exclusive”. unfortunately, because of your identical, exponentially enormous egos – neither of you had built up enough courage to be outward about any of it. so instead, you both wordlessly decided that figuratively tangible sexual tension, longing looks, and almost too obvious touches would do for now.

maybe it was the almost suffocating heat, or maybe it was all of the pent up sexual frustation–but whatever it was, you weren’t going to let him off without a bit of teasing this time. pushing yourself up onto your palms, and bend your legs at the knees you turned to him again with a small grin.

“do you think steve harrington is a good fuck?”

and bingo, that is what finally gets him to look at you. is he..jealous? you don’t want to jump the gun just yet, so you’ll push him just a bit further to be sure.

“he just seems so manly, y’know? he must be good in bed..” stretching your legs out again to elongate your figure, you lift yourself up and over toward where eddie was on the couch, snatching the blunt from his hands and bringing it to your own mouth.

“you’re hogging.” you spoke between the spilling of smoke that fell from your lips.

“what do you think eds? do you think i should ask steve harrington to rock my world?” you spoke again after radio silence. with a neutral face and a sharp breath he sat up, letting his elbows indent his knees.

“i know what you’re doing, slut.” with a new fond look on his face and a shade of cloudy dark in his eyes, you knew you had struck a nerve.

“language, munson.” you inched closer this time, tossing one of your legs over his and waving a finger in his face, an act mimicking a teacher discipling a child. “that is no way to speak to a lady.”

“didn’t know i was in the presence of such importance.” you let your leg swing fully over him now, your thighs straddling his – trapping him where he sat. you let out a soft breath at the pressing feeling of him through his boxers, suddenly very aware of the situation you had both found yourselves in.

“eddie munson, are you..hard?” you stifled a chuckle, feeling the pads of his calloused fingers pressing tighter into your hips, the contrasting roughness of his fingers and the softness of your sheened skin making you dizzy.

“stop that.” he spoke breathlessly, your lips now mere centimeters apart. the room seemingly growing hotter, the stifling sticky feeling of your thighs on his and the small strands of hair sticking to his forehead. your hand moved to caress his cheek, sweeping some of said hair out of the way to get a clearer view of his face.

“are you turned on right now?” your lips sweeping together after every few words at your closeness, his chest expanding further out at his heavy breath.

“eddie-” finally deciding to shut you up, he smashed his lips to yours in a messy, sloppy kiss that perfectly mimicked your current situation. pulling away, embarrassingly leaving you in a heaving fit before you realized he had silently, wordlessly flipped the dynamic of your current state of affairs.

“do you really wanna know how good steve harrington is in bed.” he spoke between love bites to your chest, your hands finding solace behind his neck and entangled in his hair. “no,” you said with a breathy laugh, tilting your head to press another soft kiss to his lips, both of you knew that isn’t at all why you brought it up. “but i got the reaction i wanted, didn’t i?”

“you’re mean, sugar.” his teeth bit hard into your collarbone this time, eliciting a low strangled whimper. the blunt you had been sharing was thrown haphazardly onto the ground, and the buzz had only just begun to kick in for the both of you. finding his lips again–this time on your own accord–you let your tongue slip from your mouth to his, being hospitably welcomed by his own.

it would be harder to explain if this was yours and eddies first time having sex, but it wasn’t. with eddie it was simply too easy to fall back into each other at every possible chance you got, whether it was after he picked you up from cheer practice, or after you had been waiting hours for him to finish with hellfire–it always ended up the same, panting and heaving as you worked hard to regain a normal pattern of breathing. location never mattered, not to eddie anyway.

“mean to you?” you smirked, pressing your lips to his again in a soft, chaste kiss. “only when you’re bad.”

the two of you knew very well that eddie was and always would be the dominant one in whatever it is the two of you had classified yourselves as, but it was always fun for you to think you had a smidge of authority here and then.

with a squeal and a rapid change of position, eddie had you on your back, hitched between your now spread legs. the couch you had found yourselves on allowed little to no support so you sunk as soon as the pressing weight of both of you was applied to the cushions.

“fuck me on the floor, would you eds?” a shared laugh between you two as you wrapped your legs around his waist, bracing for the move. he lifted you up off the couch before easing you onto the floor, your skin still sticking together from the thin layer of sweat. the sudden harshness of the carpet made you wince only slightly.

he lowers himself toward your thighs, leaving wet kisses in a path from your mid inner thigh and up, approaching dangerously close to where you need him most. the high had begun to really set in now, his touch alone set your skin aflame on top of the sickening weather that filled the room.

“are you going to take my clothes off?” you say innocently, letting your hands roam freely around his back and shoulders, grasping for any area of skin you could.

“you’re a big girl, i think you can undress yourself.” he teased, he finally gave in after you pleaded with your usual, ‘please eds’ and inflating his ego more than you should’ve. eventually he would use his hands to undo the button of your shorts, but switching over to using his teeth to pull down the fabric far enough for you to kick them off yourself. your hands finding them hem of his shirt and pushing up, his arms shooting straight to aid in the removing of his shirt.

“nice panties.” eddie remarked with his index finger pulling forth the hem of the white cloth, decorated with a small pink bow and letting it snap against your skin. you let your hands cover his eyes while you both shared another soft, grounding laugh–reminding you both that despite everything, you were friends first. slowly, teasingly, he dipped both of his index fingers on either side of the cotton underwear and slipped them slowly down your thighs, his lips following them down to your ankles. just before you open your mouth to whine and complain, he lets his textured fingers find your swollen, desperate clit in a slow, thought out motion that sends you reeling.

“oh–eddie that feels..that feels so good.” to you it sounds elaborate and pronunciated, but in actuality it comes out as incoherent mumbles.

“i’ve hardly touched you, you think you’ll be okay?” he speaks half teasingly and half concerned. the still looming high that made your brain hazy and half functioning, mixed with the attentive, deliberate touch of eddies hands made you hardly coherent. but there was nothing more that you wanted then to go all the way, despite the inability to express it–so you offered a sweet toothless smile and a nod, your hands grasping onto his biceps with hope that he got the sign.

“should i take care of you first. how’s that sound?” he moved to pay close attention to your now screaming, aching pussy but you couldn’t stand waiting another minute for him to fill you the way you needed him to.

“nuh uh..not there” suddenly you find your voice, using both of your hands on either sides of his face to pull him up and into a deep, open mouthed kiss. “then where.. here?” he bites the skin at the side of your stomach, knowing that’s not what you mean.

“i need you, please honey.” the pet name rolling off of your tongue, eliciting a low groan from his chest, his head falling between the crook of your neck in a weak attempt to stop him from cumming in his pants at the word alone.

“so pretty..” he fawns, kissing the salty, sticky skin at your neck and letting his tongue soothe it over.

you helped push down his boxers with your hands at either side of his hips, pushing down the fabric as far as you could before pulling him further into your widened thighs. there was no need for further foreplay on his part, his cock painfully hard and leaking precum from his seemingly swollen tip. using this very part of him to stroke at your entrance, his cock in one hand and the other pressed just beside your forehead for balance.

“i’ll go slow, alright?” he spoke in your ear, his warm breath sending chills up and down your neck before meeting them with a soft kiss to your neck.

you can feel yourself take in a deep breath, anticipating the stretch. when he finally slips in just the head, you can feel your hands grasp at his bicep, gasps coming from both of you in unison. no matter how many times you find yourselves here, neither of you get used to the intoxicating feel. his eyes are screwed closed and his eyebrows knit together as he tries to hold himself together. you careen your hand toward his cheek, the other still digging into the meat of his arm as he sinks in further, inch by inch and you can’t help it when you let out another lengthy, drawn out moan and toss your head to the side.

“please eddie, please..” you press your lips to the shell of his ear, nibbling softly on his earlobe as you plead for god knows what. soon enough, he lifts his hips from where they stood indented into the bones of your own hips, and slowly but surely he begins pulling himself out just a bit, and pushing back into you with deliberate, slow thrusts that trigger your eyes to roll toward the back of your head. it isn’t until he lifts your hips just slightly to angle himself just perfectly toward your g spot that you’re able to make any coherent noises. but still, eddie is struggling to contain himself--his eyebrows knit together, and his jaw still slack above you as he lets go of one, two, three moans that make the pit in your stomach sink further and further, pulling on the two ends of the knot you feel burn hotter and hotter as he picks up his pace.

“eddie, eddie..” you babble, every exhale mixed with a whine or a moan as your hands grasp onto any possible inch of skin. his biceps, his neck, his hips, your hands are everywhere at once and it is the only thing that is tethering you to this earth and the one above you, you’re sure. “i’m here baby, i’m here.” his sweet, sultry voice makes your heart swell and you aren’t sure if there are real tears forming at the waterline of your eyes or if it’s just the high that is making you imagine it. either way you feel one of his hands lift your left leg, making it possible to fit every inch of him inside of you. the slightest but showing bulge grows in your lower stomach, eddies hand reaching down to press into it and this makes you grasp onto his wrist, your brain slowly turning to mush. “fuck–can you feel me all the way up here? in your stomach..” he questions rhetorically, not expecting an answer (thankfully because you are hardly able to give him one).

he tries as hard as he can to praise and keep you sentient, but the heaviness of his breath and the impending climax he feels disables him from getting out fully thought out sentences, or any words for that matter. you swear you see stars as the white hot peak of your orgasm hits you like a freight train, your ankles meeting around his waist as you push him further down into you, your nails painting small crescent shapes into his back so hard you think you draw blood and your moans and screams loud enough for the entirety of your town to be clued in on what it is the two of you are doing. “ohgod, eddie fuck!” you get out as you feel yourself squeeze down hard on him, causing him to push down on your hips, stopping you from moving.

you hear him speak through the end of your orgasm, his face nestled into the crook of your neck and his hands holding firms on your hips. “please, baby–you’re so tight” he pleads, “don’t squeeze so hard, i..i’ve gotta relax or i’m going to finish inside of you.” you wrap your legs and arms around him like a koala bear, unwillingly to let him go.

“s’okay eds.. i want you to, please.” you squeeze again, evoking a strangled, caught moan from his throat that makes you let one out yourself. the sounds he makes are enough to make your head reel, the mere thought of him wordlessly telling you how good you feel is enough to make you wanna touch yourself, and sometimes you do.

“fuck, i want to–i want to but s’not smart baby.” he careens his hand over your face, your limbs still unwillingly to detangle as you splay kisses everywhere on his face. you shake your head no, still holding him tight to your chest with your arms wrapped around your neck. “come on honey,” your sweet voice entices him. “give it to me eddie baby, i’ve been good–don’t you think i deserve it?” and with one final squeeze and push of your hips, he’s crying out into your neck and you can feel the hot, warm ropes of his cum spill into you and at that you’re letting out a long, shaky sigh. he twitches inside of you, still panting and heaving into your skin and his hands have found comfort at your sides and he squeezes the soft skin at your hips and waist to ground himself.

together your breathing slows in tandem, and you lay there silently with the unimportant background hum of the low whirring fans, your hands softly stroking his head and face as he lay with his chin stationed at your collarbone. “i want this.. you–all the time.” he confesses, not exactly sure how to lucidly express himself.

“you already have me all the time, where else would i be?” you answer, not fully grasping what it is he’s trying to get across. so for now, he’ll lean his cheek against your chest and sigh in content–because every moment with you is far more than nothing at all.

a/n: thank you for reading!! i promise i have way more thought out one shots to come for my dear boy eddie munson but i wanted to throw this together for today.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fics #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader

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zeddimusprime · 11 months

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Trans Man Noah Diaz

The first time I saw Rise of the Beasts, I read Noah as a Trans Man, and that headcanon just solidified after my second viewing.

I’ll get the heavy reasons out of the way first, and work down to the most silly ones.

The section that was here before has been removed, because I was overstepping and someone rightly called me out on it. However. I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t do what I did. I deleted the comment that called me out because it made me feel bad, I panicked, and deleted it to save my own ego. It was wrong, it was cowardly, it was fucked up, and I shouldn’t have done it.

I truly am sorry, and have spent the last day sitting with myself until I stopped trying to excuse my behavior and just acknowledged what I did. I am not asking for forgiveness, I can only try going forward to be the kind of person deserving of it.

For now, I’m taking a break from this blog, leaving it on a queue, and I won’t be posting here for a while. Even though that isn’t the kind of person I want to be, I need to reckon with the fact that that is the kind of person I am. I’m sorry, once again.

1994 was also the year Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was put into place, which, for those too young to remember, was basically a policy allowing queer and trans people to serve in the military so long as they remained closeted, and prohibited superiors from forcibly outing them. Given that we’re never actually told in the film why Noah was discharged, it’s not unreasonable to think that it may have been because he got found out as trans.

The part that’s particularly personal for me is his relationship with Kris. I’ve also got a little brother that’s quite a bit younger than me, and I acted as an extra parent to him, practically raised him since we were both latchkey kids, and yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d face the apocalypse head on if it meant keeping him safe. All that to say, it’s comforting to think that Noah’s identity as a man is inseparable from his identity as a Big Brother, the way it is for me.

Most of my other reasons are less serious:

Noah wears a lot of layers and baggy clothes on his upper half, which yes, was part of 90s fashion, but it’s also how I dressed for most of my life, even before I realized I was trans.

Noah is also non-toxically masculine in a way that’s not unheard of but also not as common for men, especially service members, of that time period. Again, there may very well be a cultural component I’m missing here, let me know if there is, but this is just something I related to as a Guy Who Wasn’t Raised As One.

This last one’s kinda silly, but I’m a Car Guy, and one of the most gender euphoria inducing things I can do is work on my car. There’s few things that make me feel like Man quite like sweat on my brow and grease on my hands and a purring engine from a job well done. So for Noah to not only be a tech wiz but specifically a Mechanic? That was the thing that really sold me on this headcanon. (And that’s not even getting into the very fun implications of Noah being the one to repair Mirage, to get to know him so intimately, literally inside and out. Very nice.)

(I also love the idea that rather than being weirded out or taken aback at first like he is in some fics, Noah would be kinda weirdly affirmed to find out that not only does Mirage have some of roughly the same *equipment* while still being treated as and being a Mech, but his setup is the norm for Cybertronians. I can so picture Noah anxiously telling Mirage about his situation when they finally get together only for Mirage to be like “you mean other human mechs don’t have a 🐈??? Like, most humans only have one or the other?????”)

#Transformers #Noah Diaz #Trans Man Noah Diaz #Noah/Mirage #Rise of the Beasts #Miroah #TF: RotB #Transformers Rise of the Beasts #Mirage #trans headcanon #also in researching this i was reminded of the existence of Pedro & Me #it's a really good graphic novel by Judd Winick about his friend Pedro Zamora #they appeared on the 1994 season of MTV's The Real World #Pedro was the first positive depiction a lot of Americans got of an HIV+ gay man #he unfortunately died late that same year #sorry for rambling comic books are one of my special interests #anyway it's a good book you should read it if you can

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darklinsblog · 2 years

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Humankind’s finest Part 2 | Sandman imagine

Part 1 | Part 3

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Human! Disabled Fem Reader

Summary: Having admitting his feelings for the human girl, Morpheus is now found with the difficult reality of telling her the truth of his identity.

Morpheus had never felt this uneasiness before in his life, he knew that if he wanted his relationship with Y/N to remain, he had to tell her all the truth about him being one of the Endless, King of the Dreams, he had to present himself as the myth in the flesh. But he was undoubtedly terrified.

Because there was a good chance she could walk away from him, after all acknowledging beings with tremendous power like his could be a really hard pill to swallow, and no matter in how many pieces his heart could shattered at his lady’s possible rejection, he would never be able to blame her for leaving. Being held captive had changed him to his very core, he longed to be loved, to care and be cared for; and even with all that fear clouding his mind he was brave enough to ask her to meet up at her apartment.

He was now at her door, doubting if he should knock or not, part of him wanted to walk away, leave her before she even got the chance to break his heart.

“Just fucking knock” his bird groaned, utterly annoyed by his master’s behavior he decided to fly to the bell and ring once and for all. A few moments passed before the girl appeared on the door, with her wheelchair and her signature lovely smile that she always gave him.

“Are you not saying hello?” She joked around, her humor easing his nerves just a bit, so he finally leaned towards her to kiss her cheek while she took advantage of his gesture to softly hug him, taking in the scent of his cologne that she loved so much before she let him in.

They reached the living room before she asked what was going on.

“You look a lot more pale than usual” she commented, not in a playful manner like she had before, her tone let out a hint of sincere concern for the man, which made him sigh and soften his gaze as he held her hand. He asked nervously for her to listen intently to what he had to say before she said anything, she grew visibly anxious as she shifted uncomfortably on her spot.

Suddenly, all the words started coming out, and they couldn’t be stopped, he revealed his identity, his journey, he went on and explained about his realm, The Dreaming. How he was held captive by Roderick Burgess and his family for over a century by mistake, and finally he explained how he ended up coming across her shop. Throughout all of this, she listened intently, remaining awfully quiet as she took on all that new information.

When Morpheus finished pouring his heart out to the young woman she let her whole weight fall back onto her wheelchair, staring into the Endless’ eyes, seeing him in a whole different light.

“You’re telling me you could literally have any Goddess in the world, quite literally and you chose me?” She frowned, Dream could tell she was conflicted, for the first time since he had known her he could sense fear and nervousness in her features.

“I-I’m human! Morpheus there’s nothing special about me, my whole life for you would be like five minutes, I will age and die and- why would you want to live through that pain?” She found herself at the verge of tears and The Sandman ran up to her, kneeling before her while cupping her face in his cold hands.

“Don’t ever say that again” he said looking into her eyes, seeing how the tears rolled down her cheeks “You are the most fascinating being I have ever laid my eyes on. Don’t ever think you are less worthy of love than any other, I’ve seen with my own eyes how people mistreated you and if I could punish them for hurting you, I would.”

“I don’t want to cause you anymore pain…” she whispered, making the Lord of Dreams smile widely as he rested his forehead against hers softly.

He was so scared of her leaving because of who he was, but here she was, caring for him, she didn’t want to walk away because she did not love him, but rather, she loved him so that she was willing to let him go to avoid him the suffering for her death. That was a true act of courage and love.

“My love… You cause me nothing but the greatest joy. I could give you immortality so we spent the rest of eternity together if that’s what you wish. But even if you could only be mortal, I would rather thirty, forty or fifty years by your side than to never experience the uniqueness of your love”

He was being truthful, the love he had for Y/N was unlike any other…

Nada, Callipso, while he did fall for them, Y/N was different, if anyone had told him he would fall in love with a mortal in such a mad way, he would’ve walked away fuming and yet here he was. Kneeling before the woman he loved so, offering her the gift of immortality, completely at her mercy as he touched his face delicately.

“Eternity seems like an awful lot of time” she said.

“Come to The Dreaming with me, I’ll show you everything and you can later decide what you want” the girl smiled, all this seemed like a fairytale, in which she was the pretty princess, which made Morpheus the charming prince, an idea she wasn’t mad about.

“How do I do that?” She asked curiously.

“Just close your eyes and dream tonight, I will find you” he promised.

Coming back to The Dreaming felt different this time, Lucienne was there looking at the King with a slightly puzzled expression.

“Are you alright, my Lord?” She asked.

“Never been better Lucienne. We will have a visitor in the Kingdom” the librarian looked surprised.

“May I ask who this visitor is?”

“Y/N” Lucienne smiled “I trust you will take care of everything”

“Of course, my Lord” she affirmed simply, before excusing herself, knowing there were quite a few things to take care of before Y/N came to the Kingdom that night.

Dream was inspecting his attire for that night, his heart was pounding with excitement, at the simple thought of truly showing who he was, his kingdom, his people to the one he loved.

“Sandman”

He heard her call out for him, and he was quick to run and look for her through the lands of The Dreaming. Until he finally met her again, she was sitting in her wheelchair with a long white dress, at the sight of her beauty he seemed out of breath, and he quickly went in and held her in his arms. He gently picked her up from her usual seating spot, nuzzling her head and smiling into her hair, taking in the distinctive scent. Feeling oddly at peace in her arms.

“Are you ready to meet the Kingdom?” He asked once he was physically able to pull away.

“I’ve never looked forward to anything more in my life” she said, he carefully helped her to grab his arm so they could walk steadily towards the castle.

“Won’t I be needing my wheelchair?”

“My love, this is the Dreaming. If you want it you can just simply think of it and it will appear before you”

“Right, I forget everything is possible here” she giggled. Walking into the large castle was a whole experience Y/N saw any kind of mythical creatures wandering around the castle, greeting at their ruler. She was mesmerized at how respected and loved he was by those around him. Soon they entered the library being greeted by Lucienne, Mervyn and Morpheus’ raven Matthew. The woman was taken back in surprise at the sight of the man whose pumpkin head was floating.

“Everyone, I would like to introduce you to our visitor Y/N. Y/N these are Lucienne, Mervyn and of course Matthew, whom you’ve met” As the Lord of Dreams introduced his servants, the girl shook their hands, giving them a warm smile, every single one of them seemed delighted to finally meet her in The Dreaming realm.

“It’s nice to see you here, Morpheus won’t ever shut up about you. It’s always Y/N this, Y/N that” Matthew went on, Mervyn nudged the bird to prevent him from talking further.

“You could talk? You would’ve saved me a lot of time trying to puzzle him out” she said playfully, making Morpheus’ cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

They spent more time in the library, as Y/N insisted to explore the library further, it was a lovely picture to see Y/N inspect the thousands of books, helping Lucienne stacking the volumes in their place, they were talking cheerfully until it was finally time to head out, as Morpheus had other plans for Y/N.

Dream had decided to take her to Fiddler’s Green. If there was a perfect place to take care to, Fiddler’s Green was just that and he remembered how the sentient always ensured his ruler would fall in love again. They laid on a broad tree, Morpheus had his arm around Y/N’s waist while placing butterfly kisses around her face, the girl giggled while staring into the sunset. It all felt like a romance movie, the one big love story that was inspiring.

“Can I really stay here?” She asked quietly

“If that’s what you wish, yes” he explained “But I do want to warn you, staying by my side might not be the safest choice. While you would be able to escape Death you can still be imprisoned or tortured, some of my siblings may see you as a tool to weaken me” he sighed, it was just fair for her to put all the cards on the table before she made a choice, but that didn’t make it any less easier.

“Hey” she said placing a hand on his shoulder. He dared to look at her through the fear because against all odds he was excited to give his all to her till the end of time and beyond.

But she had to choose him first.

“As long as we have eternity, I will always come back to you. You hear me?” The King let out a deep breathe he failed to realize he was holding back.

She had actually chose him, even when she had a handful of reasons not to. Selfish as it may be, he allowed himself to be happy, and for the first time in millions of years (literally), he gave himself permission to imagine a happy life for himself.

#the sandman #sandman x y/n #sandman netflix #sandman x reader #the sandman comics #morpheus imagines #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus dream #sandman imagine #tom sturridge #tom sturridge x reader

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hederasgarden · 2 years

Text

Don't Break My Heart

Summary: You get more than you bargained for from a one-night stand with Rhett Abbott. Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader Word Count: 1.7K Raiting: Mature. Unplanned pregnancy, reference to past sexual situations, and angst. A/N: This is part of my Small Mistakes New Beginnings Series. Thank you @callsign-phoenix for looking this over and making the beautiful moodboard. Dear readers, go follow her if you haven’t already! Likes are wonderful but reblogs and comments feed the muse.

You haven't seen Rhett in nearly three months, not since you let him fuck you in the bed of his truck after the rodeo. You weren’t normally the type to fall for a man like him but there had been something in the way he looked at you with those troubled blue eyes that made you say yes when he asked you to leave with him. He'd been sweet and gentle with you, so different from what you expected a bull rider to be like. You still remember how clear the night sky was, the way the canopy of stars looked behind him as he drove into you over and over again. It felt magical, something straight out of a dream. At least until a month later when you found yourself staring at two identical blue lines, scared and alone.

It isn’t hard to track him down. His schedule on the rodeo circuit is easy to find, but gathering the courage to call him? Well that takes a little while longer but when you do Rhett remembers you immediately or at least he pretends to. He offers to meet up at a bar in the town he’s riding in. It’s not far away from Wabang so you agree and make the drive.

It’s loud and chaotic when you arrive, the sound of live music and drunken laughter grating on your ears. Even before you found out you were pregnant this kind of place wasn’t your scene. Rhett stands immediately when he sees you, taking off his hat and holding it against his chest. He’s happy now, but you wonder how long that sweetness will last when you tell him the truth.

"I was surprised to hear from you," he says, smiling despite his busted lip. He takes a seat when you do, grabbing the server as she walks past.

"Two beers, please.”

"Nothing for me," you correct. You don’t plan on staying long. You’ll go once you work up the courage to tell him.

"Maybe we could," Rhett starts just as you blurt out, "I'm pregnant.”

For a moment he doesn't react, just stares at you with wide blue eyes. The blank expression on his face is what you expected but when his lips turn down you’re quick to add, “I don't want anything from you.” His face falls as you continue. “You don't have to be involved. I just felt you should know."

By the time he finally reacts you're up and out of your seat.

"Wait," he says, his fingers encircling your wrist in a loose hold. He tries to tug you back towards him but you resist. "You can't just tell a man he's gonna be a father and run off."

"You don't have to be. I know this isn't what you want."

You pull free of his grip and turn towards the door.

"Hey," he says, loud enough that a few people turn to look at him. You freeze, a little bubble of fear expanding in your chest. Rhett seems to realize his mistake and softens his voice, holding his hands out in a gesture of peace. "With respect, you don't know what I want."

"You're a bull rider. I don't think you're looking to settle down and start a family."

"Can we talk about this? Please,” he implores. You touch your stomach and his eyes follow the movement. He stares at your midsection, tongue prodding at the cut on his lip. He looks behind him to the bar and then back to you. “Not here though. Smoke’s not good for the baby. Or you."

You falter, curling your bitten-down fingernails into the strap of your purse as you consider his request. This was supposed to be simple, tell him and leave. You never expected he'd be interested or even care.

"Okay," you agree after a moment of hesitation.

"Come on, there's a diner that's open late up the street," he says, dropping a few crumpled bills on the table.

He surprises you by settling a hand on your lower back and pressing in close, his chest touching your left shoulder. He herds you out the door, keeping his body between yours and the men entering. They greet him, one even whistling when they see you're together, but Rhett ignores them, urging you along. Once you're outside he slides his cowboy hat back on and looks up and down the street.

“It’s just up this way. They got good coffee.” He stops and frowns. “Shit, you can’t have that can you?”

“It’s fine,” you promise him, “I can have tea. Or water.”

“Alright,” he nods and you feel his thumb move steadily up and down the curve of your hip in what you think might be an unconscious gesture on his part.

It’s soothing and a little bit of you hates him for it. For being so nice and caring. Your guard’s already slipping around him even though that little voice at the back of your mind warns that you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment. A man like Rhett isn’t going to be the kind of loving husband and father you need him to be. He can’t. You've spent enough time around bull riders and those in the circuit growing up. It’s all fuck or fight with them and a new woman in every town. They crave adventure and freedom, not being tied down to a woman they barely know.

Inside the diner, Rhett slides in across the booth from you. He’s watching your face, but you catch his gaze slipping lower, to what’s hidden below the table. Even though you’re not showing yet you place your hand over your stomach in response. The corner of his lips curls up briefly and he returns his attention back to you. It reminds you of the night you met and the way he returned your shy smile with one of his own.

“So,” you start, drumming your fingers on the table. “You wanted to talk.”

“Yeah,” Rhett says, sitting up a little straighter. “How far along are you? Are you…doing ok?”

“About 12 weeks and yeah, I’m doing good besides a little morning sickness.”

He scratches his jaw and squints. “That’s the first trimester, right?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s doing…. good?” He asks.

“The baby is healthy.” You promise, watching him relax a fraction.

“That’s good. You got one of those, uh, pictures of it?”

The request surprises you and you feel bad telling him no, especially with how hopeful he looks. “I do at home. I didn’t think you’d want to see.”

“You don’t think much of me, do you,” he says. It’s phrased as a question but you both know it’s a statement.

“I don’t even know you. We had one night together and that was it. I wasn't even sure I should tell you."

“Give me a chance,” he says, reaching for your hands. You want to believe him because you’re terrified and alone, though you know deep down letting someone in only to have them disappoint you would be worse. “Please.”

His expression is so earnest and vulnerable that you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you tell him, embarrassed to feel a few tears leak out of your eyes. You hurry to brush them away, but Rhett beats you to it, catching them with his thumb as he reaches across the table to rub your cheek. Unconsciously you lean into his touch, eyes closing.

“I can see you’re scared,” Rhett acknowledges. “But I’m not gonna leave you to do this alone. Even if I was the type of man to, my father would kill me.” You give him a watery laugh and he grins. “We got six months to get to know one another and figure this out.”

“That’s not a long time,” you tell him.

“It’s enough to get started. We can figure the rest out as we go,” he promises.

You swallow past the lump in your throat and look down at your hands in his. There’s dirt under his nails and little scars over his knuckles and forearms. Life in this town was tough and scratching out a living from the land was even harder here. It wasn’t a place you wanted to raise your child.

“I took a job in Bozeman. I’m moving next month,” you tell him. “I know your family is here but…” you trail off, afraid of his reaction.

“I can get a job out there,” he says, squeezing your hand. “They got cattle in most places.”

“What about your family?”

He lets go of your hands and leans back, something dark and angry in his expression. “I’ve been wanting to leave for years,” he says, still not looking at you. He’s watching something outside on the street, but his eyes are unfocused. “This place…it’s no good.”

“And your bull riding?” You ask.

“I gotta finish out the circuit,” he says. “We’ll need the money and I made a commitment. Once that’s done though, so am I. It was always about a way to leave here anyway.”

“You’re giving up a lot for someone you hardly know,” you tell him.

“I am getting a whole hell of a lot,” he argues back with a soft smile. “You think this compares to 8 seconds on a bull? Nah, not by a mile.”

More tears come. This time you don’t try to stop them, all the fear and worry you’ve been carrying comes out in a rush of relief and hope. Rhett’s quick to move to your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and encouraging you to lay your cheek on his chest. His big hand runs up and down your back as you let out all your emotions.

“Sorry,” you apologize, clearing your throat and sitting up straight.

Rhett doesn’t remove his arm but he’s polite enough to look away while you dry your tears and collect yourself.

“My next appointment is on Friday. It’s down in Casper at the hospital. If you want to come.”

“I’ll be there,” he promises.

The certainty in his voice and the soft way he looks at you has you believing he’ll come. That he means what he says and you’re not going to be alone. There’s no doubt the coming months will be hard, but with Rhett at your side, you feel hopeful for the first time since you saw those two blue lines.

✥

Part 2 - I'll Be Your Reason

✥

Taglist:

@mysticaldonkey @letsfvckingdance @ughdesireable @goobieboobie @maggiescarborough @a-reader-and-a-writer @wildbornsiren @dumb-fawkin-bitch @Maria-Allegra @stormsouls @the-hottest-lieutenants @sydneyhlove @cool-ultra-nerd @nik2blog @Staygoldenponyboy22 @Staygoldenpb22 @mayhem24-7forever @Change9875 @xofangirlthingsxo @katherineholmes

#rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #outer range #outer range fanfic #lewis pullman

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jodithann827 · 23 days

Text

One Night Stand (Revised)

8/13

Chapter rated teen/ Ao3/ @today-in-fic

Scully Residence

Friday, April 16, 1993

“You’re a mom,” Mulder says, the revelation rolling off his tongue. He’s sitting on Scully’s couch, taking it all in, while holding a beer as Scully sips her white wine. The child, Emma, plays on the floor nearby, surrounded by a tower of toys. Taking a sip, the cold soothing the fire in his throat, he observes the little girl with her strawberry-blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes. Looking so much like her mother, yet slightly different. Different facial features and different coloring immediately stand out.

“I’m a mom,” she confirms, all the while thinking, and you’re a dad. How the hell do I drop that bomb?

“Is she okay? You know, from the pot?” He asks gently, flashing back to the screaming when he first entered the apartment. The screaming still ringing in his ears. After Scully had calmed her daughter down she’d opened the fridge and gave her what looked like some food item in a tube. She then explained to Mulder that she was just about to make dinner, then surprised them both by asking if he’d like to stay. Nodding, she made the meal in silence while Mulder watched the little girl play in the other room. They ate, conversation lacking, though Emma’s babbling was enough to entertain the adults. Once cleaned up, Scully asked Mulder to join her in the living room.

“She’s fine, Mulder,” she assures him, bringing him back to the present. “I think the sound frightened her more than anything because she wasn’t expecting it.”

Nodding, Mulder comes out and bluntly questions her, as she sips her wine. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a kid?” He carefully sets his beer onto a coaster on the coffee table in front of him, then draws back, looking intently at Scully. She quickly averts her eyes, looking into her wine glass, then over to her daughter.

“It was never a good time?” she asks, rather than comments, though it’s said weakly and without conviction.

“She’s cute,” he tells her, sensing her unease, to which Scully offers a smile. Tilting his head, as though thinking intensely, he continues, “How old is she?”

Scully takes another sip of wine, whether for courage or to buy time, she doesn’t know. His question seems earnest, not accusatory or as though he’s prying. Now or never, she thinks. “She was two in February. I had her in February of ‘91, about nine months after she was conceived in May of 1990…” she trails off, waiting for Mulder to connect the dots. She sees the moment, Mulder’s face registering the reason for her honesty. So much emotion befalls him in thirty seconds.

‘Scully,” he states, hoarsly.

She doesn’t know what to say to him so she keeps her eyes on Emma. After a few minutes pass, knowing she needs to say something, she begins. “When I walked into your office, Mulder, I was so taken aback, I don’t think shock conveys what I was feeling. It took my breath away. In such a short period, I had to deal with the thoughts and emotions I had ignored for so long. And then neither of us knew what to say, the moment passed, and we rushed off to Oregon.

“Scully,” he repeats, his voice steadier.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she blurts, finally facing his scrutinizing stare.

“You got pregnant,” he says, again a statement, not a question.

“I got pregnant,” she echos, a single tear threatening to escape her otherwise neutral face. “Mulder, I had no idea how to find you, where you worked, or even what your last name was, or your first name, apparently, for that matter. We’d talked about so much that night, but nothing to give away your identity. I was completely lost and so incredibly scared. The only person who knew I was pregnant was my best friend. I kept it from everyone until about fourteen weeks when I started showing and couldn’t hide it any longer. I didn’t even tell my sister. I was nervous. I was ashamed in a way. I was about to start a new job and had no idea what to do.” For his part, Mulder only has eyes for Emma while listening to Scully’s explanation. “I weighed my options, all of them, but I knew from the moment the stick turned pink that I couldn’t go through with an abortion. My religion aside, I knew that she was made of something special, and I couldn’t do that. I’d considered adoption, but I knew the moment I saw her it would be agony giving her up. So in the end, even though I knew I was about to embark on the most difficult adventure of my life, well, there was only one choice. I fell in love with her instantaneously,” she concludes, leaving out the part where she cried and yearned for him every single day, how she’d wanted to find him so badly, how she had fallen in love with him.

“I know it’s a lot to digest,” she continues, unsure of what to say next, but anxious in the silence of the room.

“Once you met me when you walked into my office, were you ever going to tell me?” he asks, his voice steady, calm, and quiet. Scully knows she needs to choose her next words carefully.

Taking a deep breath, she continues, “Yes, but Mulder, I didn’t know how. I never meant for you to find out like this, truly. I guess I was scared and the more I put it off, the deeper I got. Our partnership is so new and a lot is riding on it working…” she trails off as Mulder stands, pacing the living room

“Muld–” she started, but he cut her off.

“I need to go,” he announces abruptly, then as an afterthought adds, “I’ll see you at work on Monday.” Before she knows what hit her, he has his coat in his arms and is out the door.

Emma toddles over to Scully, play food in her hands, and shoves a pretend ice cream cone into Scully’s face. “Heya ice ceam mama.” Scully scoops Emma up and snuggles her close, thinking about how she’ll be rocking her extra long before bed this evening.

Mulder Residence

Friday, April 16 1993

Mulder lays on his couch, tossing and turning for the last hour. His mind is racing, a bullet train speeding down the tracks. Nothing to watch on TV and hell, even his porn couldn’t cut through his feelings this evening. A baby. She’d gotten pregnant and had a baby. His baby. He has a daughter. Fuck, he thinks, I’m not a father. Millions of other thoughts rapidly fly through his mind. He wants to be angry. He wants to rage. He wants to break things from frustration and utter helplessness. But he can’t. He thinks about putting himself in her shoes for a minute, thinking about the situation she was in. No, it wasn’t planned. It was a complete accident. She hadn’t any way to get ahold of him, so what could she have done? Nothing. She did everything right, everything she could do. This situation isn’t her fault. He searches his memories of that night, trying to figure out how it had happened. They were so careful. Other thoughts invaded his brain, like how it had taken him a long time to get her out of his mind. How he had fallen hard for her. But that was then and this is now. They have to work together, in life-and-death situations. They couldn’t afford distractions. Did he want to be a father? Would she let him be a father now that he knows? There are so many questions, questions he doesn’t know the answers to. Does he even want to know the answers to them?

He rolls on his back, the smooth leather of his couch brushing against his skin. Suddenly he feels like a fool for walking out and the thought of waiting until Monday to see her was agonizingly painful. Emotions swell in his chest and he can’t contain himself. Before he registers what he’s doing, he reaches for the phone and dials the now-familiar number.

“Scully,” he hears a muffled voice on the other end. He waits a beat before responding, enamored by the mere sound of her voice.

“Hey Scully, it’s me.” He’s faced with silence from the other end so he continues. “I’m sorry for calling so late, and I’m also sorry for leaving like I did. I know it was abrupt.” He hears her breath hitch.

“It’s okay, Mulder, I understand and if I were in the same situation, I can’t say I wouldn’t have acted the same.”

“I was overcome with shock. Actually, shock isn’t even the right word. Hell, I don’t even know what the right word is. First to see that you have a child and then to find out”

“I,” she cuts him off, but everything she can say seems so inaccurate in what she’s thinking and feeling.

“Look, Scully, I know I said that I would see you Monday, but I was wondering if we could maybe get together this weekend, maybe tomorrow, and talk?” he waits with bated breath for her response, seeing their whole partnership flash before his eyes. It’s only in that minute he realizes that there’s a chance Scully doesn’t want him around her daughter, or even entertain the idea of him being in her life, or Scully’s life outside of work for that matter. Panic begins to bubble up.

“Meet us at the deli on the corner by my apartment tomorrow at, say, noon?” she offers.

“I’ll see you then,” he tells her before she can change her mind, then adds, “Good night, Mulder.”

“Night, Scully.”

#dana scully #fox mulder #the x files fanfic #x files #au fanfiction #msr #msr fanfic #baby #now what #Mulder’s a daddy #nothing is easy for these two

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sequinsmile-x · 7 months

Text

Start from Scratch

It had been years since they'd been back to the place they'd once called home, the place they once thought they'd raise their children, but it was time.

Aaron and Emily and their family go back to DC years after being forced to leave by Peter Lewis and his obsession.

My 250th Hotchniss Fic.

-x-

Hi friends,

It seems absolutely bonkers that this is my 250th fic, and on some level it probably is, but here we are!!

I've never written anything about the Scratch storyline, largely because I've only ever watched those episodes once, and it freaked me out so much I've never watched them again!! So, I thought I'd write this, an idea that's been floating around my brain for a long time, to mark the occasion.

I just wanted to say thank you for always encouraging me, for being my safe space when I have bad days. Writing for this fandom has, and will continue to, get me through some hard times in my life. Writing is my way of escape, and the fact it provides escape to other people is a bonus that I cannot even describe.

So, if you've ever read something I've written, if you'd left kudos, or likes, reblogs or comments, then this for you. Thank you.

Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 9.3k (i got carried away)

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

May 2021

“Mom, I’m bored.”

She smiles as she looks up from her desk, her eyebrow raised as her eyes meet her son’s, the 9-year-olds the same dark shade as hers.

“Did you finish all your homework?” She asks, and he avoids her eye contact, looking down at the ground, “Oscar Hotchner…”

“I did most of it,” he says, an almost desperate tone to his voice that she has to clear her throat to stop from laughing at, “But Wren and Rosie are playing and Jack said we could play on his game.”

She folds her hands on her desk in front of her and smiles at him. Before she’d been a parent she always assumed she wouldn’t be a pushover when it came to her children, but all it would take is a slightly sad look in their eyes, or a slight tilt of their sweet heads, and she was putty in their hands. Aaron always made fun of her for it, his smile pressed into her hairline when they curled up in bed at night, a playful tone to his voice as he joked about how she had stared down serial killers in a past life but was unable to say no to their children.

“You know what, sweet boy,” she says, standing up and round her desk, walking over to him and wrapping her arm around him, “Mommy is bored with marking papers, so why don’t we go find everyone else.” The way his face lights up with a smile, the one he shared with Aaron, warms her from the inside out. “Dad will be home soon anyway.”

They walk towards the living room and she laughs at the sight of the twins sitting on the couch, absolutely surrounded by every single one of their stuffed animals, and she wonders how many times they must have walked up and down the stairs to bring them down from their rooms.

“What is going on in here?” She asks, smiling when both Wren and Rose look at her. They were identical in looks, to the point where only those who were close to them could tell them apart, but their personalities couldn’t be more different. Wren was quiet, more reserved in nature especially around people she didn’t know, so much like Aaron it made Emily feel fiercely protective of her. Rose was exactly like she was. Bold and adventurous and stubborn to a degree that had Emily dreading her teenage years even though they were only a few months shy of the twins 6th birthday.

“We’re playing hospital,” Rose says, her expression serious as she points at the lined up stuffed animals, “These are all our patients.”

“Wow,” Emily replies, “Busy day at the hospital.”

Jack walks in, the spare controllers for the Nintendo Switch in his hands, “Who wants to play MarioKart?”

“Me!” Wren exclaims, abandoning what she had been doing and running over to her brother who was just about her favourite person in the world. The relationship between Jack and his siblings was something that never failed to make Emily feel emotional. She remembered how worried she’d been when she was pregnant with Oscar, so concerned how Jack would react that it had made her feel sick, but he’d never been anything other than excited at being a big brother.

She knew they’d all miss him when he moved away to college in a couple of years.

She’s just about to say that she’ll play too, her arm still around Oscar’s shoulders, when the front door opens, Aaron’s smile wide as he walks into the house.

“Daddy’s home!” Rose shouts, running over to the front door, running at his legs at full speed and wrapping her arms around him.

“Hi Rosie Posie,” he replies, leaning down to hug her as he places his briefcase by the door. He smirks as he sees how Emily rolls her eyes at the nickname she’d hated since he’d first said it.

“We were about to play MarioKart,” Emily says, smiling when he walks over to press a kiss to her cheek, “If you want to join us I can always beat you again.”

“You only win because you cheat, Mom,” Jack says, and she turns to him, narrowing her eyes at her oldest.

“I do not cheat,” she replies before she turns back to her husband, “How about it, honey?”

He nods, clearing his throat, “Yeah,” he looks at his children and smiles, “Why don’t you go set up the game, Mom and I will be right behind you.”

They all nod and head towards the den, chatting over each other, their home never quiet but full of love and a type of peace that, even just a few years ago, Emily wouldn’t have thought was possible. She smiles as she turns to face Aaron, shaking her head at their children as they all rush out of the room to play the video game, Jack leading the charge, but it fades when she sees the look on her husband's face, the sadness in his eyes.

“Honey,” she says, stepping towards him, her hand on his arm in an immediate attempt to comfort him, “What’s wrong?”

He sighs as he puts his hand over hers, linking their fingers together as he squeezes, “I heard from Dave,” he says, pressing his lips together in a tight line, “Krystall died this morning.”

“Poor Dave,” She gasps, her heart clenching in her chest, aching for their friend who had done so much for them, who had saved them. Dave had been the one to protect them when everything started to fall apart, his friendship and his protectiveness over them and their children one of the reasons they were all still together now. She blows out a steady breath and locks eyes with her husband. “Do you think…” she drifts off, the mere thought of going back, of returning to the place where their family had been tormented by a now dead psychopath, enough to make her chest seize.

“I’ve already booked the time off work,” he replies, as if he has read her mind. She nods and leans in to hug him, sighing as he hugs her back, “He’d do it for us.”

“You’re right,” she says, closing her eyes as she hears the kids laugh from the next room, reminding herself that Peter Lewis hadn’t won, that she still had everything she’d left her life, the people she’d once considered her found family, behind to protect, “We should go.”

He can feel the tension in her shoulders, the knots that almost immediately begin to form there, and he rubs his hand up and down her back. The choice not to return to their old life once it was safe to do so had been a hard one, but ultimately the right decision. Their life now was the one their children deserved, the one they deserved, and he knew that the thought of going back to where they had almost lost everything, even to support one of their oldest friends, was a difficult one.

“It will be ok, sweetheart,” he assures her, stamping a kiss against her lips, “We’ll do it together, just like everything else.”

She smiles and nods, kissing him once more before she pulls away, smiling at the sound of the kids yelling for them, Rose’s voice drowning out the rest of them.

“Yeah,” she says, squeezing his hand as they walk towards the den, “Together.”

___

April 2015

It feels like an echo of a previous life. The panic, how it twists deep in her gut as she parks her car outside the hospital, greeting her like an old friend.

The last time she’d done this he’d simply been her boss, although she knew in hindsight that she’d been in love with him even then. He hadn’t been hers, her confusing feelings for him stuffed deep down under all the other secrets she carried at the time, unable to surface under the weight of her time with Ian Doyle.

The worry is sharper this time, only made worse by how Dave had sounded on the phone. Their usually cool and unaffected friend sounded strained, his concern for Aaron clear, unable to hide it from her despite his best efforts.

She bursts into the hospital entrance, her car keys tightly grasped in her first as she approaches the nurse's station.

“Excuse me,” she says, her voice strained even to her own ears. A nurse looks her up and down, “I-”

“Ma’am, are you okay? Is something wrong with your baby?”

Emily’s hand drifts to her stomach, more pronounced at this stage in her pregnancy than it had been during her last one with Oscar, because this time she has two babies in her belly. Twins they’d recently found out were both girls, constantly moving as if they were already fighting with each other.

“No, I’m fine,” she says, sounding harsher than she means to be, “My husband was brought in, Aaron Hotchner. Our friend called me and-”

“Emily.”

She turns to see Dave standing a few feet away and she abandons the nurse's station, walking over to him as quickly as she can, “Dave, what the hell happened?”

He pulls her into a hug, his embrace tight, almost desperate, and it does nothing to calm her fraying nerves.

“He got into his head,” he says, his hands still on her shoulders as he pulls back.

She frowns, her stomach churning for a different reason than she was used to, “Peter Lewis?” She asks, swallowing thickly when Dave nods, “What do you mean he got into his head?”

Dave sighs and guides her over to a nearby chair and she sits, her hand on her stomach again as she tries to calm herself down, well aware her blood pressure was already something her doctor was concerned about.

“He drugged him. Made him hallucinate all kinds of things, including some of the team dying,” he says, and she blows out a breath, “Lewis tried to then make him kill us when we came in to rescue him, but he saw through it. I think there's more but he won’t talk about it.”

She nods, placing her hand on her bump, the movement of her daughters keeping her somewhat grounded, “And Lewis?”

“He gave himself up immediately,” Dave says, clenching his jaw, anger aimed at the man who had tried to rob his friend of everything that made him who he was, “He got what he wanted.”

Emily nods, “He got inside Aaron’s head,” she wraps her fingers around her wedding rings, twisting them back and forth, “Can I see him?”

Dave nods and stands up offering her a hand to help her up too but she declines, forcing herself up herself. “He’s pretty out of it,” Dave says, walking her towards Aaron’s room, “But he kept asking about you and the boys, he wanted to make sure you were safe.”

She chuckles humourlessly and shakes her head, “That sounds about right,” she smiles tightly at him, “He’s the one who got drugged and tortured by a psychopath but he was worried about us whilst we were sat at home.”

He smiles and nods at her, “He’s in there,” he says, pointing towards the room next to them. Emily turns to go in, desperate to see her husband, but Dave stops her, his hand on her arm, “Bella, non l'ho mai visto così.”

She feels her heart seize in her chest, her lungs so stuffed full of worry she can’t draw in a breath, so all she does is nod in response, smiling tightly at her friend once more before she walks into Aaron’s room. She immediately sees what Dave means, how delicate Aaron looks, frail in a way she’d never associated with him. He’d always been huge. Tall and wide-shouldered in a way that made her feel small, even though in reality she wasn’t too much shorter than him. In recent years he’d put on a little weight, something that she loved, but hadn’t lost any of his strength. He was her safe space, her haven, and she knew he was the same for their children too.

But right now he looked small, folding in on himself as he jumps as the door opens. She immediately feels guilty, chastising herself internally for spooking him when he’d already been through so much, but she smiles at him in a way she hopes is encouraging.

“Honey, it’s just me,” she says, stepping towards him, her hands in front of her, one of them on her bump, so he can see them, “It’s Emily.”

“Sweetheart?” He asks, sounding slightly panicked as he sits up, “Where are Jack and Oscar, are they-”

“Baby,” she says, sitting on the edge of his bed as she cuts him off, squeezing one of his hands between both of hers, her touch immediately stopping him in his tracks, “The boys are fine. Jess is with them. By now they are probably both fast asleep in their beds.”

He nods, a vacant look in his eyes that was tearing her apart, “And you’re okay?”

She smiles softly at him, “I’m okay,” she says, placing his hand on her belly, watching a flicker of him pass over his face as one of the babies kicks against his hand, “All three of your girls are,” she adds, and he nods again, remaining silent as they sit there, the silence cloying, overwhelming in a way that makes her choke, “Aaron-”

“Don’t ask me what he made me see,” he says, his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes seeing right through her, as if he was seeing whatever it was all over again, “I can’t…”

She isn’t sure she’s ever hated someone as much as she hates Peter Lewis. She just wants a few minutes alone with him, to see how powerful he was without his drugs and his tools, to give him a taste of his own medicine. She breathes out slowly, well aware that Aaron didn’t need her to be angry now. There would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, he needed her love, a reminder of their lives together.

“Okay,” she says, shifting closer to him and pulling him into an embrace. He rests his head against her chest and she feels him breathe in deeply, filling his lungs with the smell of home as if it would erase everything he’d been through, “Okay. I’m right here. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he murmurs, his palms wide and strong on her back, holding her closer, her bump pressed between them as he desperately holds her in place.

“They got him,” she says, kissing the top of his head, “He won’t hurt us again.”

For a reason she can’t explain, she’s not even sure she believes herself.

___

She’s nervous in a way she can’t explain when they arrive.

They’d booked a suite at a downtown hotel despite Dave’s insistence that they could stay with him. Neither of them wanted to place that burden on him, to have their family of 6 taking up space in his home where she knew his grief should be.

She’d idly wondered if he’d mentioned to the others that they were coming, but it’s a question that is answered when they show up at the funeral and everyone looks shocked to see them. Whispers passed back and forth between JJ, Penelope, Tara and Spencer as well as people that Emily doesn’t recognise.

At first, their contact only being limited to Dave had been practical, especially when they were still in witness protection. But once everything was safe, once they could have returned, it was something that had continued. The people they had once spent every day with, people who had been in their wedding and held their children when they were newborns, no longer a part of their lives. It made Emily feel guilty, especially when she sees the shock on their faces, the second time in her life she’d been a ghost to them, but she reminds herself that it goes both ways, that there had been almost no attempts at contact from their side either.

They don’t speak to anyone else until the wake, all of their focus during the funeral is to pay their respects to Krystall and making sure the kids are entertained and they don’t cause a scene if they get bored. Her, Aaron and Jack had taken one of the smaller children each, Wren all but glued to her mother’s side as she looked around a room full of people she didn’t know. The wake is held at Dave’s house, echoes of his wife in every corner, and all Emily needs to do is close her eyes and she’s taken back to her and Aaron’s wedding. Having it here had felt right. She’d never wanted a big wedding and as soon as Aaron proposed she knew she wanted it here. In the place where they’d all come back together in the fallout of Ian and how he’d torn through their lives.

“Emily.”

She looks up, her breath catching in her chest as she sees JJ and Penelope walk over to her. There’s a moment of awkward silence as all three of them just look at each other, and then Penelope pulls her into a hug, every bit as fierce and loving as she had remembered.

“Hi Pen,” she says, holding her back just as tightly. She smiles as she pulls away and then hugs JJ too before she puts some space between them, “It’s…been a long time.”

“We weren’t expecting to see you,” JJ says, crossing her arms over her chest, “I didn’t know you guys were still in touch with Dave.”

She nods, her lips pressed together in a firm line, “It’s not very often,” she says, “But he called Aaron to tell him about Krystall, and it wouldn’t have felt right to not come.” She feels a pulling at the material of her dress and she looks down to see Wren standing close to her, a nervous look in her eyes as she looks back and forth between her mother and the women she was speaking to. Emily runs her fingers through the girl's hair and crouches down to her level, “You probably don’t remember Mommy and Daddy’s friends, huh?” She says, and she smiles as Wren shakes her head, stepping closer to her as she does so, seeking out her mother’s comfort, “That’s okay, you were very small the last time we were here.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” JJ asks, and it makes something in Emily’s chest pang, because if they’d stayed, if they’d never had to leave, she knows the woman she would have once called her best friend would have been one of the people who could tell the twins apart. She looks at Wren who stays silent, her hand tight around the black material of Emily’s dress.

“This is Wren,” she says, smiling at her friend as she picks her daughter up, settling her on her hip as she straightens up. Wren rests her head against her shoulder and tangles one of her hands in Emily’s hair, “Wren, these are Mommy’s friends. Jennifer-”

“Like my middle name,” Wren says, smiling as she finally finds her voice, and Emily and JJ exchange a sad smile.

“Yeah, sweet girl, like your middle name,” she replies, before tilting her towards Penelope, her eyes wide and shining, “And this is Penelope, just like Rosie’s middle name.”

Penelope clears her throat, pushing down the emotions that had climbed up it, and smiles at the little girl, “You’re very pretty, Wren Jennifer.”

Wren smiles at the compliment, “I look like Mommy!”

“Yeah,” Penelope replies, looking back at Emily, “You really do.”

Emily spots Jack and she puts Wren down, “Go with Jack, ok sweetie? Mommy will come find you in a bit.”

Wren nods and runs away, calling out Jack’s name in a way that is a little loud for a wake, but no one around seems to care. Strangers all smiling as the little girl is picked up by her brother and carried away. Emily turns back to look at JJ and Penelope and feels the awkwardness return, a mix of regret for the last few years mixing with defiance in her chest. She loved her life, and she’d done what she had to do.

“Sorry,” she says, her fingers immediately wrapping around her wedding rings, twisting them back and forth, “She’s nervous around strang…people she doesn’t know,” she says, correcting herself, the thought that someone she’d named her daughter after being a stranger to her too much to bear.

“So, where do you guys live?” JJ asks, trying to make the conversation feel a little more normal.

“New Haven,” she replies, smiling as she thinks of home, “We both teach at Yale. We both do classes in criminology and I do a few in linguistics.”

“You live in Connecticut?” Penelope asks, furrowing her brow, “You’ve been on the same coast all this time?”

“Well, not all this time,” Emily replies, “We were in witness protection in Ohio but moved up there afterwards.”

It had been something they’d gone back and forth on when they were deciding where to settle. Their home in Ohio had only ever felt temporary, the place they’d had to hide out from a man who had become so obsessed with Aaron he was stalking their son. Once they’d established they weren’t going to come back to DC they’d considered lots of places, but had settled on Connecticut, their life there different to how it had been before, and all the more precious for it.

“You never called,” Penelope says, and Emily presses her lips together before she blows out a breath.

“Neither did you,” she replies, no accusation in her voice, her smile sad, “I kind of always assumed you’d look us up.”

Penelope smiles wryly, “Dave had me under strict instructions to leave you to it. He said he’d never seen either of you so happy,” she says, looking at JJ before she looks back at Emily, “Who were we to mess with that after everything you’ve both been through.”

Emily nods, “How about we all agree to be better at staying in touch going forward?” She says, hoping it wasn’t a false promise, “You could come and visit, we have plenty of room.”

Penelope smiles, her expression widely inappropriate for where they were, “Oh my god you live in some kind of mansion don’t you?”

She presses her lips together to stop herself from smiling as she thinks of their home, how Aaron’s eyes had almost bugged out of his head when they first saw it. It hadn’t cost much more than their home in DC, but it was almost twice the size. Large and airy but comforting, everything she’d always hoped for.

“Something like that.”

___

May 2016

She’s chewed her nails almost to the quick. She knows he’ll pick up on it, that he’ll comment on the damage that she’s done, the spots of blood that always seemed fresh along her nail line, but she thinks she should get a pass.

Her husband had been arrested for something he hadn’t done after all.

It had only been a handful of days, three at most, but they’d blurred into one. Concern and fear that something would happen to him whilst he was in there, all of her previous jokes that all you had to do was look at him and you knew he was a cop haunting her as she failed to sleep. The team wouldn’t let her get involved, and neither would her direct superior on the Counterterrorism team, the job she’d returned to have she had the twins. Everyone sent her home, told her to be with her children, as if that would take her mind off of things.

Derek had been the one to call her to say they’d done it, that they’d proven Aaron’s innocence, and she doesn’t think she’d ever gotten out of the house faster. Jessica had been staying over with her since Aaron had been arrested, helping her with the kids and being emotional support. It was strange to Emily to think sometimes that one of her closest friends was the sister of her husband’s dead ex-wife, but life had always had a way of surprising her. Jessica offered to stay with the children whilst Emily went to the prison to meet Aaron, her desperation to see him clear.

She paces the sidewalk outside of the prison, what remains of her thumbnail in her teeth as seconds feel like hours as they pass by. She checks the time on her phone, her wallpaper, a photo of their family, of her and Aaron holding one of the girls each, Wren in her arms and Rose in Aaron’s, with Jack and Oscar on either side of them, making her ache. When the front door opens, the metal clang of it ringing out around her, she turns so quickly she pulls her neck, but she barely feels it. A shuddering sigh escapes her in relief as her eyes meet his. He was wearing the suit he’d worn when he last left home, rumbled and dirty now, and his beard had grown out a little. It was the first time ever that the sight of it made her feel nauseous, instead of the usual lust that would take over her. Dave is with him but hangs back, a few paces behind her husband so he can give them some time together.

They move at the same time, closing the gap between them as they meet in an embrace that winds them both, knocking the air out of each other's lungs as they hug tightly. His arms band around her back, holding her with such ferocity her feet leave the ground, her toes just about scraping the cement. She pulls back just enough to kiss him, her lips fierce against his as he kisses her back, his fists tight in her shirt. She looks at him, her hand on his cheek as she checks for injuries.

“Are you okay?” She asks, the question sounding ridiculous as she asks it, her voice croaking in a way she hates.

“I’m as okay as I can be,” he replies, pressing his forehead against hers, “How about you, and the kids?”

“Same,” she replies, “They are excited to see you.”

He nods, the thought of seeing his wife and kids, of holding them all like she was currently holding her, had been the only thing that had got him through the last few days. “I’m excited to see them too, as soon as this case-”

“No,” she says, squeezing him harder as he tries to turn away, to look at Dave over his shoulder, “Let’s just go home,” she all but begs, the thought of him going to work, of leaving her sight, too much to bear, “Please, the team can handle it without you.”

It’s a turning point in their relationship. She’d never asked him to step away from work before. She understood him, she was the same. They both valued their work and its importance, but this was different. This case, anything to do with Peter Lewis, was always trying to pull them apart, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

And from the look on his face, she doesn’t think he can either.

He crumbles, any resolve he may have had to not go straight home with her already weak as it was. He turns to look at Dave and he doesn’t even have to say anything, a sad yet knowing smile on the other man's face.

“My advice, as a man who has been divorced three times?” He says, stepping towards them and pressing his hand on Aaron’s shoulder. He smiles at Emily as he carries on, “Listen to your wife. We’ve got it, Aaron. Go home and hug your children.”

Aaron nods, not needing any further encouragement, and he looks down at his wife, “Let’s go home.”

Emily almost sags with relief against him, hugging him one more time before she pulls away, linking her hand through his, not wanting to lose the connection. She looks at Dave, her relief palpable as she speaks.

“Grazie.”

“Sempre,” he replies, winking at her before he walks away back to his car, ready to join the team to finish what they’d started.

Emily looks back at Aaron and squeezes his hand, “Come on, I’ll drive.”

He follows her gladly to their car, and it’s only when she lets go of his hand to dig the car keys out of her pocket that he sees her nails, now they’ve been torn to pieces. He grabs her hand again and looks closer, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of them.

“Em…”

She smiles sadly at him and shrugs, “Give a girl a break, my husband was in prison for something he didn’t do and I didn’t know if something was going to happen to him.”

He hugs her again, the weight of her against him soothing his weary soul as she leans into him, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, cupping his cheek, the rasp of his beard against her skin a good reminder that he was here, that she had him back, “It’s all Peter Lewis,” she says, clenching her teeth, “And he’ll eventually get what's coming to him,” she leans forward and stamps a kiss against his lips, pressing her forehead into his, “Now, lets get you home and showered. You stink.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and she kisses him once more before she pulls back. Their car journey home is silent, his hand on her thigh as she drives, and she can’t shake the sinking feeling that this isn’t over yet.

___

Emily yawns as she runs her fingers through Oscar’s hair, the boy fast asleep with his head in her lap. They were back at their hotel, and even though he’d insisted he wasn’t tired, that he wanted to sit and watch TV with her whilst Aaron gave the twins a bath and got them ready for bed, he’d fallen asleep almost immediately. She’d considered getting him into the room he was sharing with Jack whilst they were here, but she so rarely got time with her youngest son like this anymore so she was relishing in it.

She looks up as she hears a door open and smiles softly at Jack as he walks into the room. He was still wearing his suit from the funeral but he’d taken off his tie. He was taller than her now, and looked so incredibly grown up it made her ache. It was strange to think he’d been younger than Oscar when she’d first started dating Aaron. Her boyfriend's son who had also become hers, her love for him no different than for the three she’d carried herself.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” She asks, still running her fingers through Oscar’s hair as Jack joins them on the couch, his sigh heavy as he sits down.

He hums and looks around, “Where’s Dad?”

“Right now I’d say he’s trying to stop the twins from flooding the bathroom,” she replies, watching him carefully, giving him a moment before she prompts him, “It must have been strange for you to be back here.”

Krystall had been buried in the same cemetery as Haley, so they’d made sure to take some flowers to rest there, placing them alongside the ones she knew Jessica made sure were always fresh. She’d spotted Jack standing there after the service, his eyes fixed on his mother’s headstone and his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Not any stranger than it is for you guys I guess,” he says, smiling tightly at her, “Do you miss living here?”

She sighs as she thinks about it. The answer, as with most things in her life, wasn’t simple. She missed how it used to be, how this place used to make her feel safe until that sense of peace was destroyed for her. She’d worked hard to claw it back after Ian, with no small amount of help from Jack and Aaron, the two of them slowly helping her find her place here again. She knew that without them she wouldn’t have made it, that she would left much earlier than she ended up doing, but she would have been alone, not with the family that she had built around her.

“Yes and no,” she replies eventually, always determined never to lie to him, “I miss the team, how things used to be with them, but I love our home and where we live,” she says, smiling when he does, “Do you miss living here?”

He shrugs, “Yes and no,” he replies, his smile briefly wide as she rolls her eyes at his repetition of her answer. His smile fades and he looks down at his hands, sighing as he avoids her eye contact, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together as she looks at him, “What for honey?”

“I know we had to leave because of me,” he says, still looking at his hands, “You wouldn’t have lost contact with everyone if you didn’t have to keep me safe from that Scratch guy.”

She swears she can hear her heart crack, the sound reverberating around her head, and not for the first time, and certainly not the last, she internally curses a man who was long since dead. She gently shifts from underneath Oscar, placing a pillow under his head, and she moves closer to Jack, she cups his chin and makes him look at her.

“Jack, nothing about what happened is your fault,” she says, smiling encouragingly at him as she wipes a tear she knows he’ll deny existed later from his cheek, “You have nothing to apologise for. The only person to blame is long gone, and he can’t hurt any of us anymore. Your Dad and I…we did what we had to do. And I’d do it all again to know you grew up safe and away from it all, okay?”

He sniffs and nods, “Okay.”

“Good,” she says, pulling him into a hug that he gladly returns, his arms fierce and tight around her. For a moment she misses when he was small, when he could fit in her lap and her embrace would envelop him, not the other way around.

“Love you, Mom.”

She smiles and kisses the side of his head, “Love you too, honey.”

___

November 2016

Emily paces back and forth in their bedroom with a cranky and sick Rose in her arms. The 15-month-old was the latest to come down with the cold that Jack had brought home from school, and she refused to be put down, crying anytime she wasn’t in the comfort of one of her parents embrace. Emily doesn’t mind, happy to stay up the whole night if her little girl needed her, well aware that the baby’s clinginess was something the was a comfort to them both right now, the weight of her daughter against her chest one of the only things keeping her grounded.

“Mama,” Rose grumbles, pressing her face into her mother’s neck, as if she’d find the relief to her sore head and blocked nose there. Emily shushes her as she kisses the side of her daughter’s head.

“Mama’s got you Rosie girl, you’re okay,” she says, still walking back and forth, hoping she could finally get the baby off to sleep, “You’re okay.” She looks up as the door opens, her eyes meeting her husband’s as he steps into the room looking every bit as weary as she feels. He walks over and kisses her cheek before he does the same with Rose, his hand on the back of the little girl's head. “Is everything…”

He smiles tightly at her as she drifts off, the words dying in her throat, the now familiar fear that had been haunting them for months back in full force. Peter Lewis was stalking Jack. Following him everywhere, his own past imprinted on the 11-year-old through his obsession with Aaron.

“I’ve double-checked all the locks and the alarm, and we have some local cops stationed outside until we know what we’re doing.”

She chuckles humourlessly and looks down, relieved that Rose was now sleeping, “Yeah,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping her daughter secure in her arms, “Because he’s never managed to sneak past cops before.”

Aaron sighs, overwhelmed by guilt as he pushes his fingers through his hair, “Em…”

“I know,” she says, clearing her throat as she shakes her head at herself, “I know, I’m sorry,” she says, unhooking one of her arms from around the baby sleeping against her and offering it out to him. He joins her on the bed, sitting so close their thighs are pressed together, and she wraps her hand around his, “I’m just scared, Aaron,” she says, her lower lip trembling with the force of everything she was feeling, “He’s never going to stop.”

He wraps his arm around her, tugging her and Rose into his embrace, his arms banding around them. He wished it was always this simple, that he could protect them all by just holding them, his embrace as safe a place as Emily had always said it was. He knows he can’t do that though, that he’d failed again and again to protect his family from a man who seemed intent on destroying them. He heaves in a deep breath as he prepares to say what's been on his mind all day, something he knows won’t go down well.

“I think you and the kids should go away for a while,” he says, and he feels her tense in his arms, her body immediately tight as she pulls back to look at him, her irritation at his suggestion immediately clear, “It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”

“No.”

He sighs at her tone, the complete lack of room for argument, and he feels his heart sink in his chest, “Em-”

“No,” she repeats, harsher this time, anger for the situation and everything they’d been put through since Peter Lewis first set his sights on Aaron finally breaking free, “We’re not going anywhere without you. I refuse. I’m not leaving you here as bait for a man that wants you dead,” a tear falls past her lashline and he wipes it away, his calloused thumb soft against her cheek, “I’m not doing it, Aaron.”

“He made me watch you die,” he says, his tone just as harsh as hers. He swallows thickly, his jaw tense as she frowns at him, her eyebrows knitting together. He’d never told her everything that Peter Lewis had done to him when he’d captured him, never quite able to bring himself to explain all the terrible things he’d seen, “He…you and the kids were dead. He tried to convince me it was real and it felt it.”

Her heart aches, the thought of it enough to stop her from breathing, and she holds Rose even tighter, taking a moment to kiss her cheek, “Honey, thats all the more reason for me not to leave you here. If he did that last time, god knows what he’d do this time and I…”

She doesn’t know how to explain it to him, how to put into words how this whole situation had shaken her faith in the system she’d always been a part of. The system she’d died for. How watching him get arrested and put in prison for something he hadn’t done, how he’d been treated by people he’d protected again and again, had made her start to question what the hell they’d both risked their lives for over the years.

She knew he was right on some level, that they couldn’t carry on as they had been, especially now the target had switched to their children, but she wasn’t going anywhere without him. She knew if she did, if Aaron was left alone, that she’d likely never see him again. That the man who had been taunting them for well over a year would likely get his wish and kill him. She didn’t want to raise their kids alone, didn’t want to have to remind her 4-year-old son and baby daughters how much their dad loved them, fill their lives with memories of a man they didn’t remember because he wasn’t there to do it himself. She didn’t want to take Jack away from his father for the second time in his life, to force him to once again live away from him.

She didn’t want to live without the love of her life.

“Either we all go, or none of us do,” she says, breaking the tense silence they had fallen into. She watches as he frowns, his eyebrows knitting together as her words wash over him. She places her hand on his cheek, “I am so done with what that rat faced fucker is doing to us, what he is doing to our children’s lives. Honey, they deserve to have us both, safe and with them.”

He nods, leaning forward to press his forehead into hers, his eyes screwed shut as he heaves in a deep breath, “It will mean walking away from everything. Our friends. Our careers. Our home.”

She nods, pressing her lips together to stop the shake of them, “I know, but we’ll be together. The kids will be safe,” she pulls back to look at him, her chin trembling as she tries to stop herself from crying, “And my home is wherever you are.”

He smiles softly at her, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “My home is wherever you are too.”

“This job has taken so much from both of us,” she says, shrugging slightly, looking down at the baby in her arms, smiling at the innocence her daughter had. The way her cheek was squished against her chest, her face relaxed as she slept, wholly unaware of the danger around them. She looks back at Aaron, “I won’t let it take you.”

He nods, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, lingering longer than normal, breathing her in before he pulls back.

“Okay.”

She feels like she’s been hit by a wave of relief, sure it would have knocked her over if she’d been standing, “Okay?”

He nods again and hugs her, “We’ll all go,” he says, the feeling of her sagging into his side the only evidence he needed that he’d made the right call.

“I love you,” she says, turning her head to kiss his throat, her lips soft against his skin.

“I love you too.”

For the first time in a long time, it felt like that would be enough to get them through.

___

“Ok, boys,” Aaron says as they walk through the front door, “Straight to bed.”

Jack and Oscar's exhaustion from the long car journey home is clear when neither of them argues with him, both nodding as they exchange goodnights with their parents before they head upstairs. He adjusts his hold on Wren, the 5-year-old fast asleep in his arms and turns to look at Emily, who had Rose in hers, her face pressed into her mother’s neck.

“We’ll take them up and then meet in our room?” He says and Emily nods, leaning in to press a kiss to Wren’s head.

“Night sweet girl,” she whispers, not wanting to wake either of the sleeping girls up, “Mommy loves you.”

They walk up the stairs and head into each of the girl's rooms, careful not to make too much noise as they go. Emily pulls back the covers on Rose’s bed and lays her down, grateful that she’d insisted the girls travel back home in their pjyamas, well aware that this would be what they’d end up doing. She tucks Rose in and makes sure her favourite stuffed animal is in reach and she leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. Rose stirs slightly, pulling the covers in tighter around herself.

“Love you, Mama,” she murmurs, not even fully awake, but aware of her mother’s presence.

“Love you too, Ro-Ro,” she says, using the nickname that Rose only let her use, “Go back to sleep, sweetie.”

She smiles as she hears her daughter’s breathing even out, and she kisses her forehead again before she stands up and heads to the master bedroom down the hall. She sighs as she sits on the edge of the bed and takes off her shoes, groaning in delight as she slips the heels off and lets them drop to the floor.

“It’s always concerning when you make that noise at anything other than me.”

She chuckles as she looks up at her husband, “Oh honey, you know you’re the only reason I ever mean it,” she says, winking at him. She raises her arm to offer him her hand, and he walks over, linking their fingers before he joins her on the bed. She rests her head on his shoulder and yawns, “I’m so tired.”

He chuckles as he kisses her forehead, “And you’re not the one who drove for almost 7 hours today.”

“I’m a passenger princess and you know it,” she says, wrapping both of her arms around his, hugging it to her chest, “And don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He can’t deny it so he simply kisses her forehead again and breathes her in, the smell of her shampoo as comforting as it always had been. He doesn’t miss the desperation in the way she’s hugging his arm to her chest, the way she’s pressing her face into his shoulder, as if at any second he’d be torn away from her. He know that going back had been hard on her, on all of them. That seeing their friends again, all of them making promises as they left that he hopes they all keep, had been draining. Emotionally taxing in an already charged situation.

“You ok, sweetheart?”

She hums, squeezing his arm a little tighter, “I just keep thinking about Dave,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “He loved her so much and now she’s gone. What do you do with all that love when you lose someone? Where does it go?” She asks, sighing sadly as their eyes meet, “I’m not expecting you to answer that by the way I just…I just keep thinking about how I’d feel if I lost you, and it’s unbearable.”

He pulls his arm out of hers so he can wrap it around her, holding her close and fiercely, surrounding her with his love to remind her she still had it.

“I’m not going anywhere, Em,” he says, cupping her cheek and making her look at him, “I’m right here - you haven’t lost me.”

“I know, but I almost have so many times and being back there was a reminder of that,” she says, her eyes searching his, “I’m so glad we’re home.”

He knows there is very little he can say to comfort her, that it will take days for her to feel like she’s on an even footing again, so he simply nods. He stamps a kiss on her forehead and then on her lips.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, “Me too.”

___

October 2017

She’s only just got both the twins down for their nap when the doorbell rings. She curses under her breath and hopes Aaron can make it to the front door before the doorbell rings again, the chances of getting both Wren and Rose back to sleep if they wake up slim to none.

She hears the front door open and sighs in relief, looking back at her daughters once more before she leaves the nursery. She hears the door close again as she walks down the stairs, baby monitor in hand, and she’s already talking by the time she makes it to the foyer.

“Who was that, honey? Was it the neighbour…” she drifts off as she looks up, her words dying in her throat as her eyes land on someone standing next to her husband who she hadn’t realised knew where they lived, “Dave?”

He smiles at her, “Hi Bella.”

She walks over and hugs him tightly, her eyebrows creasing at the sight of his black eye and the healing cuts on his face, “You look like shit.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Nice to see you too.”

Any further conversation is cut off as Jack walks in, Oscar just a few paces behind him as always, and he freezes, “Uncle Dave?”

“Jack,” the older man says, looking past him, “And Oscar, you’re both getting so big.”

Emily looks at her husband, their eyes meeting in a silent conversation and she nods towards the boys.

There was only one reason Dave would be here, that he would risk the protection they’d been forced into almost a year ago.

“Jack,” Aaron says, making eye contact with his oldest, “You can catch up with Uncle Dave later, for now you and Oscar can go play.”

The way he says it leaves no room for argument and Jack knows it, grabbing his younger brother’s hand before he leads him away and further into the house, “Come on Ozzie, the grown-ups need to speak to each other.”

As soon as they are alone Aaron suggests they go to the living room, and Emily watches as Dave looks at the pictures hung on almost every surface of their house, a soft smile on his face as he takes it all in. They all sit down in the living room, Aaron’s hand tight around his wife’s, both of them desperately needing the comfort, familiar panic climbing up both of their throats.

“What’s going on?” Emily asks, “If you’re here that means…”

“Peter Lewis is dead,” he says, finishing the thought she hadn’t dared to verbalise, worried it was almost too good to be true.

The relief is palpable, overwhelming in a way that forces her breath to catch in her chest. It was over. The man who had tried to break them apart was gone.

“You’re sure?” Aaron asks, running his thumb back and forth over his wife’s pulse point, and Dave nods.

“Saw the bastard die myself.”

Emily can tell there is more to the story, a look in her friend’s eyes that he couldn’t hide from them, “What happened?”

They listen as he explains it all to them. How a new member of the team, Stephen, had died in the pursuit of Peter Lewis. How Dave himself had been captured, tortured with the same methods that had been used on Aaron years ago in an attempt to find out where they were. How Spencer and the rest of them had rescued him, and the final showdown that had led to the death of Lewis.

Neither she nor Aaron know what to say, the story heavy as it sits in the air around them, creating a tension that rarely existed in their lives these days. There’s a cry from upstairs, one of the twins awake before she should be, and Emily immediately moves to go see her, but Aaron stops her, his hand on her thigh.

“I’ll go,” he says, the tight smile on his face enough to let her know that he needed a moment, needed a few minutes with one of their children to remind himself that everything was okay. She nods and he stands up, walking over to Dave, who also stands, and pulling the other man into a hug, “Thank you, Dave. I…thank you.”

It didn’t seem like enough, and Aaron wasn’t sure anything ever would, but Dave simply nods, a soft smile on his face.

“Anytime,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk, “Although I think I’m too old to go through it all again so you two better stay out of trouble.”

Aaron chuckles and nods, patting his friend on the back before he leaves the room, his footsteps loud on the stairs as he goes up them. Emily looks at her friend and leans back on the couch, blowing out a steady breath as she shakes her head.

“What’s wrong, Bella?” He asks, and she raises her eyebrow at him, causing him to shrug, “That’s your tell.”

She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath, “That’s what Aaron always says too,” she flashes him a smile, “I don’t know what to do next,” she says, overwhelmed with it all, with the fact they were free, “It’s been so long since we haven’t had to look over our shoulders for him. Fuck, I was still pregnant with the girls when this all started,” she runs her hands over her face, “I don’t know what to do next,” she repeats, not looking for an answer but unable to keep the thought to herself.

“Do you want advice from an old man?”

She smiles as she sits up a little straighter, “That’s the second time you’ve called yourself old since you got here, if you’re fishing for compliments you’re looking in the wrong place,” she jokes, smiling when he shakes his head at her, “Yes, I’d like some advice.”

“Don’t come back.” He says simply. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that, and she frowns, tilting her head at him in confusion. He chuckles, “Not that I don’t miss having you and your delightful personality around all the time, but the two of you seem happy. Happier than you’ve ever been.” he says, looking around the living room, gesturing at all the signs of their normal, happy life. Half-drawn pictures on paper strewn on the coffee table, photos of all of the stages of the kid's lives, brightly coloured plastic toys in amongst all of the modern furniture, “You have a life away from it all and as someone who has never quite been able to pull himself away, I think you’d be crazy to come back to it.”

She nods, her lips pressed together as she thinks about it. She’s not sure she wants to go back, the mere thought of it, of reintroducing that kind of danger to her day-to-day life, and therefore the lives of her children, almost too much to bear.

“I think you’re right.”

He smirks at her, “Things really have changed, I don’t think you’ve ever said that before.”

She shakes her head and chokes out a laugh, “Stronzo.”

He places his hand on her shoulder and squeezes, his expression serious again, “I mean it, Emily. You both deserve this. I’m not saying you should stay right here, but now he’s gone you can go wherever you want.”

It’s a type of freedom she’d missed. Her life hidden away for the last year or so as she waited for the other shoe to drop, sure every time that she heard a noise in the middle of the night that Lewis had found them.

“It’s strange,” she says, smiling softly at him, “I’ve started from scratch so many times in my life, I never thought I’d do it again.”

Aaron walks into the room, a sleepy but awake Wren on his hip, her tiny fist rubbing at her eye, “That’s a terrible pun, sweetheart.”

She looks back and forth between Dave and Aaron, feeling like she’s missing out on something as they both laugh, and she sighs when the penny drops.

“I didn’t mean that,” she says, unable to stop herself from joining in on the laughter, the sound light and free as it fills the room, “You jerks.”

-x-

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dafry-shenanigans · 2 years

Text

I wanna take a moment to give my appreciation to the detective conan fanfic author's who made these crossover exist-

First off, Detective Conan and BBC/TV Sherlock Holmes!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340590/chapters/35594700

There's also a few others but this is one of the longer ones and still updated once a while! :D

Seeing them interact is just HILARIOUS, coupled with the fact Conan's world turned completely upside down (like how da heck did he get there and why was Sherlock there) and now have to try and deal with it without getting too confused-

Then there's the rivalry between the two, with Sherlock probably trying to figure out more about Conan and Conan trying very hard to hide his identity

Second, Detective Conan and Danny Phantom?

Ngl when I first searched for detco crossovers I really didn't expect this one to appear let alone exist-

But it does! And even though I was a bit skeptical at first, there's actually quite a few I ended up enjoying! :D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34201519/chapters/85098820 (this one's the more recently updated one and the longest one so far)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596160/chapters/41477369 (this one was probably discontinued but it's also the second most lengthy one and I think it was good enough :v)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023191/chapters/22342343 (another old discontinued one and probably the the shortest compared to the other but I really liked it qwq)

Also would be interesting to see the dynamic that is Conan the corpse magnet and Danny the ghost magnet-

Lol funny how the two have a thing with "dead" things- Only difference is Conan doesn't even mind it too much anymore but everyone else around him that are new to his (curse-) unusually high corpse encounter would probably be very disturbed and maybe even traumatized- (honestly I pray for their mental health and sanity because BOI do Conan have a bunch of stuff in store for them XD)

And last but not least, Detective Conan and Ace Attorney! :D

(I also want to thank the fandom for already making art of them which make sense since both have their similarities and I love every single one of em-)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595030?view_full_work=true (a short crack fic but, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING IT BECAUSE IT'S GOLD-)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186486/chapters/27666696 (and here's the actual fic that was unfortunately also discontinued but it's long and interesting enough)

Lol just the thought of how much Conan actually lies (literally he opens his mouth and just let out a stream of LIES- (especially when he's involved in a case-)) and the fact that Phoenix have an item that can tell if someone is lying about something is just- 👌✨

I like to think that the way Phoenix view Conan most of the time is that he's always surrounded by a bunch of chains and psyche-locks lol

Then there's the fact that Conan could probably beat anyone in a deduction game from that universe (he's just that superior- I don't make the rules) In fact he could probably solve it faster than Phoenix can say 'Objection!'

And so enjoy these few lines of dialogue I thought when thinking about the possibilities of this crossover;

Phoenix trying to make a feeble attempt of a deduction: W-well... I...

Conan 'Sherlock bloody Holmes' edogawa: I'm able to tell from this small detail you've missed that your deduction is completely wrong!

Phoenix: HOW DA HECK IS A KID THIS GOOD AT DEDUCTING THINGS AND MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A COMPLETE FOOL?!? WHO DA FUK DOES HE THINK HE IS??? SHERLOCK HOLMES???!??!!!

Conan: *internally freaking out and trying hard not to blush at the comment and keep a straight face*

Phoenix after getting outsmarted by Conan again for millionth time: *hoarsely* He's a monster...

Edgeworth: Pffft- Wright this is a child we're talking about, maybe you're just too incompetent-

Edgeworth also getting wrecked by Conan deduction later: ...Wright there's something wrong with this child- HOW DO THEY KNOW SO MUCH MORE THAN US?!?? IT'S AS IF THE KID HAVE WAY MORE EXPERIENCE THAN US ADULTS WHO GRADUATED LAW SCHOOL!!! SERIOUSLY, WHO AND WHERE DID THIS SASSY LOST CHILD CAME FROM?!?

Phoenix: I tried to warn you man...

How the two have an affinity to attract cases wherever they go;

Phoenix: Man, kinda weird that cases just appears where ever I go sometimes-

Conan: Oh, you too? Sure hope it's not as bad as mine then...

Phoenix: Wait- what do you mean you-?

Conan: Cases pop up in almost everyday in the week for me so I've seen quite the mass of corpses-

Phoenix: I'm sorry, you've seen WHAT-?!?

Lol just the idea that Conan would soon be known as the little lying menace of a gremlin that he is, would be pretty hilarious- XD

What I love most about all of them is the chaotic mess that is Conan's life/identity/personality clashing with other protagonist who is equally just as chaotic in a few different ways-

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tears0fsatan · 2 years

Note

heehee hi again!! im here for the event :D how about "is that my shirt?" + zhongli ?? is this how you do it help

- 🔶 anon

𖥻 characters... zhongli x gn!reader

𖥻 genre... fluff oneshot!!!!

𖥻 warnings... gender neutral!reader, modern setting, established relationship but not specificed, zhongli calls u terms of endearment, height difference?? :blushes:, cuddles!!!! at the end!!! :D

𖥻 a.n... LOLOLOL dw 🔶 anon u n me both tbh,,, i think zhongli is perfect for this prompt even though i think he's worn the same suit everyday for the past six thousand years urhurfhu his reaction would be very sweet me thinks ANW THANK U FOR PARTICIPATING IN THE EVENT I HOPE U ENJOY MY DEAR <3

🌐 % 3V3NT H3R3 @ __★

zhongli had been pretty busy as of late. not only had he been coming home later after nights out with that shady fatui guy, but when he was home, he seemed to be preoccupied with another thought.

while he did respond to you, he always seemed absent minded. you weren't sure what it was, all the years you two had spent together, never once had he acted like this.

now naturally, you think "how can i pique the interest of a god that's been around long enough to see everything?" and it had left you stumped for days. you were racking your brain for all sorts of ideas to make morax pay attention to you again.

you were close to giving up when on your walk back home from a trip, you overheard a couple talking.

"wahh you're so tiny~ i could just use ya as my armrest~" the taller one teased, resulting them in a pouty shorter partner.

"shut up! i'll hoard all your clothes again!" the smaller one stamped away, the taller one chuckling as they ran after their partner.

"well you looked so cute, i wouldn't mind that!" that comment made you perk up. in all your time with zhongli, you had never once thought about stealing one of his shirts. not because of any particular reason, you just hadn't felt the need to since zhongli often offered to take you shopping (that you ended up paying for, of course).

their voices grew distant as you strayed away from the main path, onto the path that would lead you back home.

you took your time to walk back, admiring the view the walk to your home provided while you finalised your plan. you hummed and smiled to yourself, slightly hurrying your pace to put your plan into action.

upon arriving back home, you checked every nook and corner to make sure zhongli wasn't home yet. you checked the living room, the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the kitchen and even the garden outside just to be extra precautious.

once you were certain he was still out, you snuck into morax's closet. you marvelled at the tidiness of it, there were identical suits neatly lined up on hangers and similarly identical shirts tucked beneath.

you shifted your weight onto one leg as you considered which group to take from, the sleep shirts or the suits he wears everyday. you took a suit and a white tee and walked over to the mirror, switching between the two to see which one would look better.

you opted with the shirt, deciding that the suit was too fancy for the occasion (maybe you'd wear it next time if today went successful).

after changing, you took a look at yourself, bottom lip jutted out and eyebrows raised in surprise with how good you looked. you took a minute to admire yourself, there was something appealing about being dressed in his shirt that left you feeling giddy.

the floor felt cold beneath your feet as your pranced around the room, the grin on your face was self explanatory.

you checked the time, seeing that you had a couple hours until zhongli would be home. you finished the remaining chores while humming, time seeming to pass by faster than you had expected.

by the time you were done, you could hear the tell tale sounds of the geo archon making his way home. you rushed up the stairs, hiding away from zhongli.

"darling, i'm home!" he called out from the doorway.

from where you hid, the sound of keys jingling as well as the sound of zhongli taking off his shoes and getting comfortable in the living room were loud and clear. you knew now was the perfect time to put your plan into motion.

"i'll be down in a minute, love! would you like a cup of tea?" a sound resembling a hum of approval could be heard and you couldn't help but smile.

however...

you peeked over the railing, watching zhongli take a seat on one of the chairs near the window looking over liyue, feeling your palms grow sweatier the longer you stalled.

the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, crickets chirping, dogs playing around with each other and people chattering was no longer something you paid any mind to, getting used to it all after being in liyue for so long. it was a constant buzz of noise that reminded you of the life surrounding you, it was something you used to ground yourself when times called for it.

it had helped zhongli too. when he got the blues, you would be the one to run to his side and remind him that although time moved fast around him, life was unchanging.

however, right now it seemed as though what you had once considered mindless white noise was now overstimulating, causing you to stumble further into your worries.

you looked down at your attire, making sure everything looked right. you picked and pulled at the parts that stuck to your skin, anything you could to make some last minute adjustments. the white tee fell baggy on you, reaching down to your mid thigh. you had debated on wearing shorts or sweats underneath, opting to go with a pair of shorts to, hopefully, be more eye catching (and because it's summer and sweats aren't exactly ideal in the humid summer evening).

though you were no longer sure how you felt about your appearance, being wrapped in zhongli's elegant scent helped get you back on track. you took a couple of deep breaths to clear your head, hardening your gaze with a new found (faux) confidence.

with long, dramatic strides down the stairs, you made sure to go as slowly as possible to build up the atmosphere. when you reached the bottom, you made sure that the geo archon noticed your presence.

at first, morax didn't look up from where he was staring off into space, only greeting you in passing with a hum. you exhaled through your nose, expecting a bigger reaction.

you shook your head, ridding yourself of your early disappointment, determined to earn his attention. you moved over to the kitchen, preparing a cup of tea for both you and zhongli, using the matching cup set he insisted on getting and his favourite tea blend.

"here you go, my dear." you waved the cup in front of his face, hoping to snap him out of his reverie. the man in front of you subtly jumped, but looked up to smile at you and accept the cup of tea.

you stood frozen in your spot for a couple of seconds, unsure of how to feel, how...how hadn't he noticed? you pursed your lips, taking a seat across from him and looked out the window. you did so in a melodramatic way, trying anything at this point for him to finally take notice of you.

thankfully, it didn't take long. after closing his eyes to savour a sip from his tea, zhongli's eyes shot open and looked over to your direction. he was still and silent, mouth still attached to the cup yet he wasn't sipping anymore tea.

"is... is that my shirt?" zhongli set the cup down on the table in front of him, eyes still trained on you. you giggled at the wide eyed man in front of you, the expression on his face wasn't one you saw very often, but it was greatly appreciated when you had the opportunity to see it.

"why yes, it is. do you have any qualms against me wearing it?" you teased, giggling in between your words.

"no no, it's not that..." zhongli trailed off, unable to look away from the way the shirt fell on you, with an indescribable expression. you tilted your head to the side in confusion, unsure of what he was feeling by his reaction, or more so, lack there of.

"well... for a lack of a better term, you look very huggable, my love." the geo archon said so with a straight face you just couldn't stop yourself from laughing.

he couldn't take his eyes off you, completely enamoured with the way his shirt looked on you. you took note of the way he scooted closer to you, his fingers playing with themselves to stop himself from holding you.

everywhere you went, he trailed after you like a lost puppy. when you went to wash your now empty teacups, he followed you, going as far as to offer to do it for you.

when you sat on the couch, he sat right beside you, despite the amount of space left. after a while of the two of you watching the tv in silence, you felt a weight on your head.

you furrowed your eyebrows and only got halfway to tilting your head upwards before the hand on your head pushed your head back down, forcing you to turn your attention back to the tv.

wordlessly, zhongli kept petting your hair, and by the gaze you felt on you the entire time, you suspected he was watching you instead of the movie.

that night, after the movie and dinner, zhongli looked at you with puppy eyes, begging for cuddles and who were you to deny him?

there was nothing comfier than being wrapped in zhongli's arms while clad in his shirt, him wearing a matching one while holding you frim behind.

you'd say that today went pretty successful.

#4D0N1S event #៹ ࣪˖. 🎧 light mode﹒☆#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x gn reader #zhongli x you #zhongli fluff #gn reader

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dekusleftsock · 9 months

Note

Like good omens? Bc the current climate of bkdk is exactly like what happens with Crowley and Aziraphale. EVERYONE, and i mean, EVERYONE around them realizes they love/want each other in the shortest amount of time possible but not the two guys that have known each other for thousands of years, until like, now and they STILL fucked it up.

DUDE YOURE SO FUCKING TRUE FOR THIS

Good Omens is always a show I knew I would love, but never got around to watching. My friend basically made me binge the entirety of season one a week ago and then I binged all of season two when I got home, and MY GOD. MY GOD. THEY ARE SO MUCH LIKE BKDK AND IT SUCKS.

I feel like this is obvious but Good Omens season 2 spoilers lol.

Aziraphale kinda likes to romanticize the time when Crowley was an Angel WITH HIM. The first scene in season 2 where Crowley and Aziraphale first meet and Aziraphale watches him with puppy dog eyes, all of it reminded me of bkdk’s childhood. And from Izuku’s perspective, it was AMAZING! He got Kacchan all to himself, they were friends, even if he was a bit mean and teased him. But to Bakugou? It felt like Izuku was bullying him, looking down on him. It feels a lot like Crowley’s perspective on heaven. He doesn’t like hell either, but at least they don’t care how things get done, just that it’s done.

AND LIKE, AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY HAVE SIMILAR PROBLEMS I KIND OF SEE IZUKU AND KATSUKI HAVING. Losing your sense of identity in the obsession of the one you love, it fucking happens! There’s this post about Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship that puts this into words so well, and it feels very them, yk? Bkdk feel so so much like the type of people who could get so attached to each other that they lose what makes them, them.

AND MAYBE THATS A STRETCH, BUT YEVAISBISHSISHSHJSB

When togachako’s relationship is built off of your individual senses of identity (who therefore feel a lot like Maggie and Nina in this equation tbh), and bkdk’s is built off of the fact that you’ve never had a point in your life where this person HADNT existed, then you can see how that can turn into a problem—especially for their relationship.

Bkdk is a slowburn built off of a fear of rejection, much like Crowley and Aziraphale. Because if this person ISNT in your life, then who are you really? What makes you, “you”? What makes us, “us”?

Is there really space for “you”, in a sense of self built on “us”?

ALSO AZIRAPHALE SAYING “I FORGIVE YOU” AFTER THAT KISS BROKE MY FUCKING HEART RVEINSUSVSISBUS

Their miscommunication in both bkdk and in Aziraphale/Crowley is so so bad and yet so so relatable why is it like that good lord.

I think what I liked most about season 2 was when Nina made the comment that “everyone else’s love life always seems so much more straight forward than your own”, AND IF THAT ISNT BKDK/TGCK THEN I DONT KNOW WHAT IS LMAO

Oh yeah and the coffee theory is dumb. It very much makes sense for Aziraphale to take the offer that he did. He has said time and time again that heaven has the good guys and hell has the bad guys, there’s just individually good and bad people in both. He has always wanted Crowley to be a part of heaven again, he literally always mentions how Crowley “was an Angel once”.

Aziraphale represents the cult-ish mentality that Christianity can be. He wants to believe that there is a higher power that doesn’t agree with the things angels do and don’t do, because if that isn’t the case, then every belief he has ever been told was built on a lie.

Heaven negates it’s flaws by simply believing that there are individually flawed angels and not that the larger system itself is a problem. This is why metatron says this in his meeting with Gabriel and the other high ranking angels. Gabriel cannot fall or there is a systematic problem, and so long as there isn’t a systematic problem, he will simply be dealt with in the cleanest way possible.

It’s all a capitalism metaphor. If Aziraphale is good enough, if he believes in god and her plan, if he believes in the good Crowley has in his heart, if he believes that a fundamentally flawed system can be changed for the better, if you can somehow work hard enough for your company, you will be rewarded. You will be praised. You will be seen as a person who deserves recognition because you worked hard enough.

But you never work hard enough. There is no plan. There is no infinite peak. It’s just you, in an infinite universe, trying to guess some plan that will never be comprehensible.

LOOK IM OF THE BELIEF THAT GOD HAS HAD NO HAND IN ANY OF THIS SINCE THE BEGINNING, EVERYONES JUST MAKING IT THE FUCK UP.

This got so far off track bc I have good omens brainrot dear god.

#bkdk #good omens #sorry good omens fans your ship is just very them #togachako

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cassarilladraws · 1 year

Text

Not Quite So Complicated

Read it on Ao3 ////////////////////// Summary: Viperion has noticed Chat Noir flirting with him lately. As Luka he has been getting more compliments from Adrien. It's not that he isn't flattered. The problem is that he's fallen for both of them and really isn't sure what to do about it. After talking with Juleka, he decides to take her advice and have a word with Chat Noir in an attempt to sort out how he feels. Words: 2700 (Complete/Oneshot) Ship: Lukadrien Fluff, Identity Shenanigans, Identity Reveal Not S4 (Wishmaker specifically) compliant. /////////////////////

Luka sat strumming some minor chords on his guitar. Every now and then he’d pick out a few individual notes, but it never turned into a full song. Although, it still portrayed his inner turmoil well. “Are you okay?” Juleka had heard his playing and could tell something was up. “Don’t worry, Jules. I’m fine.” He looked to the neck of his guitar as he played. She fell silent for a moment, but Luka knew she was still there. When he looked up he saw her shooting him a look that said “you don’t seem fine to me.” They were too close for her to not know there was more for him to say. “Okay, you’re obviously not going to let it go.” Luka sighed. “Nope.”

“Fine. There are these two people, who have both been showing more interest in me lately. At least, I think that’s what is happening. It’s been going on for about a month with both of them. One guy, well, I knew was the type to flirt when he had feelings for someone. The other, I didn’t really expect to do that and yet, he keeps saying such nice things and maybe I'm reading into it too much but I think he’s flirting with me too. He’s just more subtle about it.” “So what’s the problem? You’re a great guy. It doesn't surprise me that more than one person is giving you some attention that way.” Juleka commented. He picked out a few notes that expressed his uncertainty. “Actually, that is exactly the problem. Because I think I like both of them. They are both so caring, passionate, handsome, kind, talented… they actually have a lot in common.” Juleka hummed at that. “So, your heart’s giving you a hard time then.” “Oh absolutely.” He strummed a minor chord again. “How did you know Rose was the one for you?” She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. It made Luka incredibly happy to see how the just the mention of Rose could cause his sister’s face to light up. “Well, we were friends first. Then we started hanging out more and… she told me one day that that she liked girls and that she liked me. She was nervous to tell me, but once she said that, it didn't take long for me to realize I liked her back in the same way. It just sorta happened. My best friend became my girlfriend and now I couldn’t imagine it any other way.” As Juleka spoke, Luka couldn’t help but pick out notes that sounded less like his inner turmoil and more like a love song. “That’s beautiful, Jules.” “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Maybe you should talk to one of them about it.” Juleka suggested. Then her phone chimed. “Speaking of Rose, I’m going to go meet her. Good luck!” She went to meetup with her girlfriend and Luka was left with his guitar and his thoughts. Rose and Juleka had been friends before they were a couple. But that fact didn’t help him choose between the two guys who he thought were flirting with him. They were both good friends of his. Chat Noir as a hero and Adrien Agreste as a bandmate and civilian. With Adrien, the flirting was more low key. Luka noticed that he'd been giving him more compliments lately. At their last practice, Adrien had sweetly commented on how beautiful Luka’s passion for music was. It was as if Adrien had pressed play on a song within Luka’s mind and cranked it to full volume. Then there was Chat Noir, who after their last akuma battle together, gently grabbed Viperion’s hand. The hero brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “You were pawsitively stunning out there tonight.” He said and had the audacity to wink along with it. The gesture had made Viperion blush and he couldn’t help but feel that Chat Noir was quite pleased with that. Yet again, the song inside him rose to a crescendo. Luka stopped playing the guitar and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could honestly see himself with either one of them. If he could decide between them, he’d likely do some confessing of his own, but he didn’t want to pursue both of them. Whoever he gave his heart to, he wanted to give them all of it. There was one thing he didn’t understand about the situation as a whole. His mind always attached melodies to people, to circumstances, to his thoughts… So why was it when Adrien gave his compliments and Chat Noir boldly flirted with him, he was hearing the exact same tune? ///////////////////////////// A few days later, Luka, or rather Viperion, took his sister’s advice. Chat Noir was the bolder of the two boys, so Viperion felt it made more sense to be bold with him. Luckily, he was now a permanent holder of the Snake Miraculous, so when he saw Chat Noir running across the rooftops he transformed and caught up with him. “Chat Noir!” Viperion called out. The hero turned around in surprise, but then smiled widely upon realizing who had joined him. “Hey, there handsome.” Chat Noir said with no hesitation. “That means a lot coming from someone who looks as good as you do.” Viperion nearly slapped his own hand over his mouth. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he blushed. Luka hadn’t expected to flirt back like that. Especially with his heart torn between two different people. But his embarrassment quickly faded when he saw Chat Noir’s cheeks blush furiously as well, beneath his mask. Oh? So the cat could dish it but was flustered when he had to take it? Viperion found it endearing. If he did pursue Chat Noir over Adrien, he’d be sure to try to coax that look out of him more often. Chat Noir laughed and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture that was incredibly familiar, but Viperion couldn’t put a finger on why. “Guess I’m not the only flirt on the team then am I?” “Guess not.” Viperion said. Then he remembered what he wanted to talk to Chat Noir about. Was this a bad idea? Chat seemed like an understanding guy. Heck, he might even have advice. Luka had thought he knew what he wanted to say but now he wasn’t so sure he should be so outright with it all. “So…” Chat Noir recognized Viperion’s hesitation. “I know there’s not an akuma right now and you aren’t scheduled for patrol. Is there something on your mind?" You. Viperion thought. But instead said, “Maybe I’m just being an idiot. I wanted to talk to you about something but now I’m not so sure.” Chat Noir took out his baton and leaned on it. “If you’re not ready to talk about whatever it is that’s okay, but now that you have mentioned wanting to talk to me about something I can’t stand here and pretend I’m not wondering what the ‘something’ is.” Viperion couldn’t help but laugh softly at that. Of course. He’d feel the same way if the roles were reversed. “Well, it’s just that there’s you and…” Viperion took a deep breath. “There’s you and there’s this other guy and if I’m being honest I really like both of you. You’re both kind, funny, brave, and good looking too." He noted, with satisfaction, that the blush crept back into Chat Noir’s cheeks. “And I don’t know what to do with how I’m feeling. Because it seems like both of you… wow this sounds like I’m full of myself or something… but lately I feel like you’ve both been more um... complimentary—” “Complimentary?” Chat Noir scoffed. “I’m flirting with you because I. like. you. I hope that is blatantly obvious. I have feelings for you and I’m not very good at keeping them inside, so I figure why bother trying? Even if you don’t return them, even if this other guy is the one that makes you happy. In the end, that's what I want most, for you to be happy. But I’m not ashamed to let you know how I feel. If you want me to lay off I will, of course, but don’t second guess that I’m attracted to you because I absolutely am. You are amazing.” Viperion felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. Of course, Chat Noir hadn’t been subtle in the slightest with his flirting but he’d really just destroyed any other interpretation Luka could have possibly had for his behavior over the past month. That melody he'd been hearing filled Luka’s mind again and he huffed. Chat Noir wasn’t privy to what the huff was for. “Oh. Sorry? Did I come on to strong I’ll just…” “No! No. I appreciate the honesty and I’m flattered!" Viperion quickly explained. “It’s just that, well, I tend to hear music when I’m interacting with people. Usually it’s a reflection of their personality or our connection as friends or something like that… but with you and the other guy I hear the same melody. Maybe it’s because I really like you both, but it’s never happened before and it’s kind of frustrating and I’m not sure what it all means. I just want to be honest with how I’m feeling, but I feel like I’ve fallen for both of you and you’re both making me feel the same thing and hear the same tune. I’m just confused." Cat eyes blinked at him for a moment as Chat Noir processed what Viperion had just said. “Um? Chat?” Chat Noir closed his eyes tightly and put away his baton. “Let me guess. This other guy, you feel like he’s been flirting with you too? Maybe… civilian you?” “Yes, he’s been complimenting me more and we’ve been spending more time together and getting to know each other better lately. A lot like you and I have.” The dramatic frown on Chat Noir’s face only added to Viperion’s confusion. “I’m such an idiot.” Chat Noir groaned.

“Huh?” Chat laughed at his own expense. “I didn’t mean to confuse you, Luka.” “What do you mean you—“ Viperion’s eyes widened as his civilian name registered. “Oh, I guess Ladybug told you my secret identity?" “Not quite.” Chat Noir gave him a sly grin. “Guess again.” “But I’ve been careful! No one knows but me, Ladybug and…” The realization started to sink in. “And… purrhaps the guy who knew that you would make an incredible Miraculous holder, because you are caring, kind, talented, smart, and brave? The guy who fell for you and started flirting as his hero self but couldn’t help but do it as a civilian too? Because he is really bad at keeping his feelings inside? Yeah… that guy. He might have overcomplicated things. Sorry about that.” Viperion brushed his hair back from his forehead as he processed what was happening. His hair fell back down as he whispered, “Adrien.” “It’s me, Luka.” Chat Noir threw his head back with a sigh. “I can’t believe I became my own competition!” “It was a tough match.” Viperion said, his mind still reeling. “I think you both won my heart.” Chat gave him a shy look, “Well, since the two guys are the same guy after all, what do you say to going on a date with both of us?" Viperion laughed it was so simple once he knew the truth. “I’d love that. And it's no wonder I was hearing the same song. It’s all you.” Now that Luka knew that the two guys he fell for were one and the same, and that Chat Noir was actually a flirt who was easily flustered, he was going to take advantage of it. “You’re melody is incredible. It’s layered and nuanced, but at it’s core it’s fun and a little rebellious.” Viperion took a step closer and reached for Chat Noir’s hand. He leaned forward, pulled it up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “You inspire me, my muse.” He said gazing up at Chat Noir through his lashes. “You’re using my own moves against me.” Chat Noir said softly, his voice taking on a low tone that did unfair things to Luka’s heart. “Your moves are the classics.” Viperion leaned in closer. “But I’m not opposed to new moves.” “You don’t just want kisses on the back of your hand?” Chat Noir’s eyes darted to Viperion’s lips and back up again, but his voice kept the same sincere tone. “You should tell me if we’re going too fast.” “Should I tell you I want to kiss you instead of worrying about that?”

Viperion barely got the words out before Chat Noir tilted his head and pressed their lips together enthusiastically. Viperion smiled into the kiss at first before returning it. With Adrien’s lips against his, it felt as though all was right with the world. The contact made everything feel more real. Warmth and comfort spread through him. Then he heard an unexpected sound, a rumble he couldn’t quite place. Chat Noir pulled back suddenly. Viperion opened his eyes and looked to the blonde with a puzzled expression. “Sorry, sorry! I’m so sorry! That was awkward. It just kind of... happens sometimes. Sometimes when I’m really happy and especially if there’s like cuddling involved and the sound just comes out and I really can’t control it.” His cat ears drooped on his head. “It’s okay! What are you…” Viperion took in the cat ears. He saw the nervous twitching of Chat Noir’s tail as he spoke and it clicked. “Were you purring?” “Who me?” Chat Noir squeaked and pointed to his chest, but just as quickly slumped and closed his eyes. No point in denying it. After a moment he opened one eye to cautiously peak back at Viperion. “That’s not a deal breaker is it?” The distance between them was closed as Viperion stepped forward. “So, you’re telling me it happens sometimes when you feel safe and happy and comfortable… it happens when you feel loved?” “Yeah…I guess.” “I’m glad I can make you feel that way. It’s absolutely not a deal breaker.” Viperion confessed then he tapped his chin. “In fact, I think it’s cute. Now, I don’t know what that says about me…” Chat Noir laughed at that. Relief washed over him. “I think it just means you’re the one for me.” He looked behind Viperion at the sun that was beginning to set. “We’ll get a great view of the sunset from here. Want to watch it?” “Is this our first date? Viperion lifted an eyebrow. “I think it is.” Chat Noir gave him a wide smile. He sat down on the edge of the rooftop and Viperion joined him. Chat was still feeling a little awkward about a few moments before and kept space between them, but his new boyfriend was having none of it and closed the distance himself by wrapping an arm around him. The blonde did lean into him but remained tense. “You don’t have to be anything but yourself around me. Neither of us are ‘normal’ in the grand scheme of things and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He gently rubbed his hand up and down Chat Noir’s arm. “A couple of weirdos.” Chat said good-naturedly as he allowed himself to relax. “Life’s boring any other way.” “It really is.” He cuddled closer and sighed contentedly. Luka could hear the soft purr rumble. Without Adrien cutting it off he realized it was a very comforting sound. Therapeutic in its own way, like listening to waves on a shoreline. “You are adorable.” “I’m literally the welder of the Miraculous of Destruction.” Adrien said which interrupted the purring. But his relaxed tone did nothing to make him sound dangerous and he knew it. “Well, you are a symphony made up of a lot of things.” Viperion chuckled as he heard the purring start up again. “One of them is being a powerful superhero who can destroy anything he touches, another one of those things just happens to be being adorable.”

#Lukadrien #Chat Noir #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Miraculous #Juleka Couffaine #Miraculous fanfic #Cassarilla writes #Viperion #Purple Tigress #Identity reveal

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