#STOP HAVING HER STOCK BOOKS AND HAVE HER SIT AT A LITTLE DESK AND HELP PEOPLE FIND STUFF | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callsign-magnolia · 1 year

Text

Undiagnosed // Ch. 1

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, Major Character death, asshole parents, Jake is a jerk to start.

Word Count: 6.0k

Masterlist

“I’m sorry, Admiral Blair. Commander Kazansky is dead.”

Commander Kazansky is dead.

Tears welled my eyes as I stood in the doorway, my father behind me. “What?” My dad stepped around me, pushing me back into the house. I walked into the living room, seeing my mother sitting in her chair, glasses on her nose and book in her hand. “Who in god’s name is at our door at nine o’clock at night?” She asked, not looking at up. “A-an officer-“ She huffed, slamming her book shut before she ripped her glasses off her face and looked at me. “Speak up. I can’t hear you when you mumble and stutter.” I nodded, taking a deep breath and trying again. “An officer is at the door. Admiral Kazansky is dead.” I said as I rested my hand on the back of the couch. She stared at me for a moment before scoffing and putting her glasses back on. “Held on long enough, didn’t he?” “Mother!” I scolded. She huffed, slamming her book on the side table, standing. “Hush!” I immediately went quiet as she approached me. “He has been sick for years now. Your father has been waiting in the wings for his moment! And this is his moment!” She yelled, pointing her finger in my face.

“And you will not ruin his image!” I nodded, not meeting her eyes as tears streaked my cheeks. “Admiral Kazansky passed in his sleep earlier.” My father said as he walked into the living room. “And you’re crying for him!” Mom said, smacking my arm, making me jump. “He was a good man, mama!” She rolled her eyes, going back to her chair. “A man you met only three times.” I bit my lip, taking in a shaky breath. “I will be going up to my room.” I said turning, only for my dad to stop me. “Dr. Nieman says you have an exam next week; I expect you to be studying.” I nodded as he squeezed my shoulder. “Yes sir.” I said before he let me go, walking past me and allowing me to go upstairs. Once in my room I shut the door, taking a deep breath before going over to my fish tank, pulling out some food to feed them. They rushed to the top as I dropped the food, making me giggle. “Greedy little guys, huh?” I asked, knowing they wouldn’t reply. “Georgie!” I scolded the guppy who pushed Simon out of the way. “Oh my god, I’m scolding my fish.” I sighed before sitting down at my desk, deciding I better crack open the law textbook before my father came in and yelled at me for not working hard enough.

A few days went by and finally it was the day of Iceman’s funeral. I rode with my parents to the funeral, sitting in the backseat quietly as we rode from the funeral home to the gravesite. Once we pulled up and got out, I looked around at the sea of black dress uniforms, straightening out my own black dress as I stepped out of the truck. “Now,” My mom said as she walked over. “Stand still and be quiet, I don’t want to hear and squalling from you.” I nodded as she took my dad’s arm. “Yes ma’am.” I fell in step behind them, walking slowly through the grass and between the graves before finally stopping. My parents would sit, while I stood behind them, my heels sinking into the soft ground. We watched as the casket was carried over, and the funeral started. I was fine until TAPS started; it always made me emotional at these things. But I stood there, stock still but I felt the tears coming, and with them, the fear of my mother.

I inhaled deeply and shakily, fighting off the tears when suddenly my mother reached back, pinching my thigh. I jerked, which made her snap around and glare at me. It wasn’t until Captain Mitchell slammed his wings into the casket that the sobs started. I tried to hold back; my shoulders shook slightly as I held my breath. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, making me want to crawl out of my skin. Why are you crying? You’re not family. You hardly knew the man. The voice resembling my own echoed throughout my head. I attempted to stop, but I couldn’t. The voice was right though, I had no reason to be crying. Once it was done, my mother quickly stood, taking my arm and dragging me back towards the truck. “I told you to stay quiet.” “I tried, momma. Really.” “Well, you didn’t try hard enough!” My back slammed into the truck, on the side facing away from people. “Your father has an image to keep. We can’t have an uncontrollably emotional child messing that up.” I nodded, knowing she was right. “Now, you are going to clean your face, because you have black streaks from your mascara, and then you will redo it on the way to the Kazansky’s. Sarah is doing a celebration of life and we will be in attendance.” She said as she shoved a makeup wipe at me. “Yes, ma’am.” She huffed, straightening her dress. “Now get in the truck. You look like a train wreck, and we can’t have anyone seeing you.” I nodded, getting into the backseat as my mother went to join my dad as he spoke to some people.

~~~

“Woah, who is that?” Coyote asked, looking past me. I turned, spotting who he was referring to. A girl walked in with Admiral Blair and his wife; she must be their daughter I’ve heard about. She had a small smile on her face and kept her eyes on the ground, her hair swishing in the short ponytail as she walked a few steps behind her parents. “She’s sexy.” I raised my brow at Payback, he wasn’t usually one to refer to women in such a way. “I wouldn’t even try it with her.” Coop, a pilot from my old squadron said. “What? Is she snobby?” Payback asked as I continued to watch the girl. “No, man. She’s weird as fuck. She holds eye contact too much; she stares into your soul. She also talks a lot about random things, her stories have side stories, and those stories have side stories! She’s a total weirdo.” I looked back to her; she now had a glass in her hand as her parents spoke with Sarah.

“Hey, Hangman?” I turned to Coyote who was looking at me confused. “You gonna try it with her? I don’t think your girl would like that.” I scoffed, shaking my head. “No,” I scoffed. “Kelly wouldn’t appreciate it. But she’s also not my type.” Coop chuckled. “She’s crazy emotional too. Like a loose cannon.” I looked over at him, sipping the lemonade Sarah gave me. “How do you know all this?” I asked him and he scoffed. “Made the mistake of asking her on a date.” “And was there a second one?” Payback asked and Coop shook his head. “Hell no! We paid, got in our cars and I never texted her again.” I rolled my eyes. Coop has an unrealistic idea of women. He wants a model, someone ‘perfect’. Little does he realize he isn’t such a catch either. “I bet you fifty bucks you couldn’t have a normal conversation with her.” I scoffed at his offer. “What? Fifty not enough? I’ll make it a hundred then and you can see how weird she is yourself.” I shook my head. “You know what, I’ll accept that bet.” I said looking back over to her seeing she had made her way over to the drink table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a refill.” I said before walking over to her, a smirk on my face.

~~~

“Hi.” I jumped, startled out of my own little bubble by the voice behind me. I turned to find a blonde man, tall, muscular, with green eyes that glistened in the light and had tiny flecks of light brown around the pupil. “H-hi.” I said, realizing how close he was when I turned around. I took a step back, bumping the table and tripping over my feet. I swung my arm, and he caught it, straightening me out. “I am so sorry! I’m so clumsy!” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not at all.” I smiled, looking back into his eyes. “I’m sorry Lieutenant, I never got your name.” A look of realization crossed his face, and he held out his hand. “Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, ma’am.” I shook his hand. “You seemed off in your own little world over here.” He caught you, and now he thinks you’re weird before he even properly met you. “Yeah, I um… truth be told, I just got lost in thought.” I admitted. My mind had wandered to how Sarah and the rest of the family would cope without Admiral Kazansky, a thought I probably had no business thinking. “Happens to the best of us, right?” I nodded, looking down at my heels. “So how do you know the Kazansky’s?” He asked, bending down to meet my eyes, making my head snap up. “Oh, my dad is-was just under Admiral Kazansky. Now that he’s gone that makes my dad the new fleet commander.” His eyebrows shot up in realization. “Katie Scarlett!” I froze at my mom’s voice, straightening my back and diverting my eyes from Jacob. “I’m so sorry Lieutenant. Was she bothering you? She tends to run her mouth and talk. Why, she would talk till your ears fell off if you let her.” My neck burned red against my black scoop neck dress, tears gathering in my eyes.

“No ma’am. We were just having a pleasant conversation.” She looked at me, and I took a deep breath, willing the tears away. “Are you okay?” He asked and before I could even react my mother answered for me. “She’s fine. She just tends to be… overly emotional. If you’ll excuse us.” Mom said before gripping my arm and leading me away. “What are you doing?” I jerked my arm away once we were inside and out of sight. “I was having a nice conversation with a nice man!” She reached out, pinching me before placing her hands on her hips. “First off, don’t you ever cop an attitude with me again missy. Second, he is your father’s subordinate! What do you think it will look like if you’re flirting with him?” I furrowed my brows, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Oh my god, I was not flirting, mom! It was a normal conversation.” She scoffed. “Don’t talk back to me. Now, you will not speak to your father’s subordinates. These navy boys are not worth your time, or mine when you get your heart broken.” I rolled my eyes. “Dad seemed to be worth your time.” I popped off. Suddenly I heard a loud slap and my cheek stung. “He was worth my time, and you should be grateful because that’s why you are here.”

“Now,” She said as she composed herself and straightened her dress. “Clean yourself up, quit your crying and join me outside in five minutes.” She said as she pushed past me, making her way back outside. I turned, rushing into the bathroom as tears streaked my face once again. I cleaned myself up as best I could and let my hair down hoping it would hide the growing red mark on my cheek. I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face before going back outside. My father was standing with Lieutenant Seresin and a few others. I made my way over as my mom turned to greet me, a smile on her face. But in reality, that smile was a threat, saying if I screwed this up it wouldn’t be good. She looped her arm through mine as I stood next to her. “Oh, and this is our daughter, Katherine Scarlett Blair.” All eyes were on me, so I opted for a small smile. Something simple that couldn’t be mistaken for anything more than what it was. My father continued to ramble as I looked through the group. Immediately catching the blue eyes of Arnold Cooper, he smirked and waved as I turned my head away. I couldn’t stand him. He was so rude on our date, letting me go on then only to tell me how stupid the topic was and then went on to critique everything about me.

Your eyes are too far apart.

Your bottom lip is too big, it makes your smile look weird.

You’re too tall in those heels.

Your thighs are too big.

Anything he could find wrong, he pointed out. I left there crying and he never called or texted me again, which I was grateful for. I looked away, staring out at the ocean, ignoring the conversation. I wonder if I could just get a boat and take off. Quit law school, leave my parents behind and just go. Travel somewhere they would never think to find me. Like Nepal maybe? More specifically Kathmandu. It’s beautiful and I could do lots of hiking and exploring. “Katherine.” I turned, looking up at my mother who had a harsh look on her face. “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?” I asked, turning back to the group. Lieutenant Seresin nodded. “Admiral Blair says you’re in Law school. Which one?” Of course, daddy would mention law school. “USD school of Law.” He smiled at me. “And how long do you have left before you graduate?” I opened my mouth to answer when my father cut me off. “She about to finish her first year. She’s on her way to being the best lawyer in California.” My parents didn’t have that much hope for me. They just wanted me to make good money. “Nice, how do you like it?” Another Lieutenant asked, he had a mustache that most people couldn’t pull off. “She loves it. It’s been her dream since she was a little girl.” My mom said as she ran her fingers through my ponytail.

“Is there a certain type of law you want to practice?” Lieutenant Seresin asked. Once again, I was answered for. “Either medical law or corporate law. She just can’t decide.” I nodded, just going along with it. Everyone looked between my parents and me, questioning look in their eyes. “Well I just wanted to wish you guys the best of luck on this mission of yours. I’ve read over the file and I have to say, it’s very dangerous, but you’re the best of the best for a reason.” They all smiled, shaking my dad’s hand before him and my mother walked away. I turned to follow but stopped at the sound of Coop’s voice. “Following mommy and daddy around like a lost puppy?” I kept walking, trying to ignore him. “Can’t even function on her own.” I turned around, glaring at him. “You’re the one that insulted me on that so called date, so why are you even bothering to talk to me? You’re the one that ran around telling everyone how weird I am anyway.” He chuckled, “Just wanted to get a rise out of you sweetheart.” I rolled my eyes, walking away. “Whiny bitch.” My fists clenched at my sides, and it took everything in me to keep walking, but I didn’t have to go far as my mother met me halfway. “What was that?” I furrowed my brows at her. “He just wanted a rise out of me.” I admitted and she huffed. “Get your emotions in check. Because if you ruin our image, there will be hell to pay.”

A few days later I was on base, heading to my father’s office. I apparently couldn’t be trusted home alone so I would sit in the rec room on base to study while I waited for my father to finish his work. “Hi, daddy.” He smiled at me as I walked into his office. “Hi, sweetie.” Good mood. Safe. I walked over kissing his cheek. “How did your exam go?” I bit my lip, nervous. “I feel like I did good on it. I only had to go back to a handful of questions.” He turned to me; an eyebrow raised. “Well good.” I exhaled lightly in relief, escaping his wrath for now. “Well, you know where the rec room is. I’ll come get you when I’m done.” I nodded, hiking my backpack higher on my shoulder and making my way to the rec room, dress swishing around my thighs. I kept my head down, knowing I would attract attention. It’s always better if I don’t meet their gazes. I made it to the rec room and thankfully, it was empty. I sighed, setting my stuff down and pulling out my laptop and textbooks. I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose as I got to work, studying.

My phone kept buzzing and I tried to ignore it, but finally I picked it up, looking at the notification before scrolling through my Instagram feed. “Oh ho, look who we have here gentlemen.” I slammed my phone down at the voice, a reaction I’ve picked up from living with my parents. I looked up, seeing Coop walk in with a few other pilots behind him. I didn’t recognize any of them except Lieutenant Seresin, who brought up the back of the line. “And what are you studying, Kate?” I withheld my eyeroll at the nickname and ignored him, going back to jotting down notes from my textbook. “Oh, come on, honey. Don’t ignore me.” I saw him stand up out of my peripheral vision, but I never expected him to snatch my glasses right off my face. “Hey!” I yelled, standing so fast I knocked over my chair. “Arnold!” I yelled his first name, hoping it would catch his attention. “Oh, come on honey! You can’t reach even in those heels!” He teased, making me even more angry. "We're grown adults! Give me back my glasses!" I yelled, jumping to reach my glasses and praying I wasn't flashing the other pilots behind me as my dress shifted around my thighs. "You're cute when you're mad sweetheart." I whipped around to Lieutenant Seresin, and if looks could kill, he would be six feet under. "Sorry that I enjoy seeing and I can't do that without my fucking glasses!" I turned around, landing a punch to Coop's gut. "Give them back!" I yelled, snatching them as he hit the ground. "Katy Scarlett!" Fear filled me at the sound of my father's voice yelling my full name.

I froze, dropping my glasses as I saw his figure standing in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked as Coop stood, holding his gut. “I-um-I-he-“ “Stop fucking stuttering and get your stuff and go home.” He commanded. I nodded as I grabbed my glasses, slipping them back on my face before rushing to gather my things. “NOW!” I was shaking so bad, I put what I could in my bag before gathering everything else in my arms, rushing out as tears slipped down my face. As I walked away, I could hear my father apologizing to everyone for my behavior. I made it outside, getting into my Lexus in hopes I could pull out before he met me outside, but no such luck. He came outside just as I shut my door. I rolled down my window, keeping my head down as he leaned into my car. “You go home, and you wait for me. We’re going to have a serious talk.” I nodded, mumbling a ‘yes sir’ before he stepped away. I rolled up my window, taking the long way home as I cried.

Once home my mother was waiting, I assume my dad called her. I took my stuff upstairs and sat in the dining room, waiting for my dad to get home. Once he did, he was yelling before he even came through the door. “What the hell were you thinking?! Acting that way in front of my men!” I flinched as the door slammed into the wall, hearing his feet stomp through the house. I opened my mouth to answer as he walked through the door, but stopped as he held his hand up. “I don’t fucking care! You assaulted a naval officer!” “YOU DID WHAT?!” I flinched again as my mother screamed in my ear. “He took my glasses.” I mumbled and my mother groaned. “Enough of this mumbling shit! Just speak up!” “He took my glasses! He snatched them right off my face!” I said loudly. “Well, if you would wear your contacts, that wouldn’t have happened!” I crossed my arms over my chest in frustration. “They give me a headache.” “Then take an aspirin!” I stood, turning to her. “I should be able to wear my glasses without someone taking them, and I shouldn’t have to wear contacts if they make my head hurt!” My father quickly stepped closer. My knees buckling out of fear and planting me back in the dining room chair as he bent down in my face.

“I don’t care what he did. Tomorrow, after class, you will come onto base, and you will give him a sincere apology.” My jaw dropped. “So, he gets to take my glasses, preventing me from studying and I have to apologize to him?” He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “You will, and you will do it with a smile.” I sighed. “God! Just stop the huffing and puffing! You did this to yourself! Now go upstairs and study. If you fail another test, you don’t get to come back here and cry about it. You’ll have nowhere to go.” My mother threatened, making a shiver run up my spine, knowing she was serious. I just nodded, standing and looking to my father. “Dismissed.” I bit my lip, rushing upstairs. I shut my bedroom door, tears streaming down my cheeks. I covered my mouth as I slid down the door, silencing my sobs. Why can’t I just control my emotions? I should’ve just let him keep my glasses and stayed in my chair. I took a shaky breath, wiping my cheeks clean. I stood, kicking off my heels and walking over to my fish tank. “Hey guys.” I watched as the colorful fish swam around, a few swimming up to my face as I rested my chin on the shelf the tank rested on. “You hungry?” I asked as I grabbed the container of fish food. They all rushed to the side of the tank I kept the food on, watching intensely as I sprinkled it into the tank. All five fish ate as if they were starving when in reality, I fed them this morning. I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, knowing they were my fathers, I dove for my bag. Quickly pulling out my textbooks and rushing into my desk chair just as the door opened. “I don’t want to see you out of this room till dinner. You understand me?” I nodded as I opened my book. “Yes, sir.”

The next day I was dreading everything, including waking up. But I did, getting myself ready in an olive-green dress that was knee length with a ruffled hem and nude heels. I struggled to focus in class, not sure how I would manage to survive the ridiculous apology. I couldn’t focus, taking half-assed notes as I thought of how humiliating this was going to be. I barely managed to walk out of the building and get into my car. I could just drive off, maybe somewhere upstate, or even into Mexico. But they would just report my car stolen and I’d be right back here, more miserable than ever. I don’t remember the drive to base, or showing the guard my ID. But soon I found myself walking into my dad’s office, keeping my head down as I stood in front of his desk. “About time. You got out of class twenty minutes ago.” I pulled on my thumbs, wanting to snap that it takes me twenty-five minutes to get here from school, but I just kept my mouth shut. “Set your bag down.” I set my bag in the chair as he stood from his own. “Follow me.” I followed him out of his office and down the hall, keeping my head down as my heels clicked on the tile. He led us outside to the hangar, my heels announcing our arrival. I managed to lift my head, looking at the ginormous jet across the way. “Captain Mitchell.” I looked up to see an older man turn from his team to look at us. “Commander Blair.” Everyone jumped up, standing at attention and saluting him as we walked closer. “As you were.” Movement caught my eye, and I glanced behind everyone to see Lieutenant Seresin and the other man with the mustache walking closer.

“Lieutenant Cooper. Step forward.” I pulled on my thumbs again, my knees growing weak from nerves. Coop stepped closer, keeping a poker face as he did as my dad asked. “Katy, I think you have something to say to Lieutenant Cooper.” I felt everyone’s eyes on me from behind Coop and I looked up to my dad who just quirked a brow as if to say, ‘Get on with it.’ I took a step forward, averting my eyes from everyone behind him down to my feet. “Coop, I just wanted to say-“ “Eyes on me when you’re talking to me sweetheart.” My head snapped up, glaring at him. “Wasn’t there something you had to say to me?” He was trying to get a rise out of me again, and I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was wrong of me to hit you.” I said through gritted teeth. Coop poked his bottom lip out, tilting his head at me. “I don’t think you mean it.” Tears of frustration gathered in my eyes as I fought back every emotion within me. I shook my head and took a big breath before I gave him the biggest smile I could muster. “The way I acted yesterday was wrong, and I never should’ve punched you. I really hope you can forgive me.” He grinned at me, relishing this moment. “Of course, I forgive you, sweetheart.” I nodded, folding my hands in front of me. “Good, now that that is out of the way. You can go back to training, and you need to go study.” My father’s hand slammed down on my shoulder, making me jump as he did so. “Yes, sir.”

With that I went back to my dad’s office, grabbing my bag and going into the rec room to study just like I did the day before. I sat there, staring at my textbooks but not reading them. What I wouldn’t give to go back and punch Coop in his smug ugly face. God, why did I ever think he was attractive? Thinking back on it he’s really not, and he has an ugly personality to match. God, I hate him, and I can’t stand my father for making me do that. Should I have hit him? No. But did he deserve it? Hell yes. “Do you need help?” I looked up, caught off guard by the quiet voice. A blonde man with stunning blue eyes and glasses stood before me. “Oh. No, I don’t. Don’t trouble yourself with me.” I said as I turned my head back down to my books. “I’m pretty good at law. I started in the Law education program at the naval academy before changing majors.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he gave me a small smile. “What does Amicus Curiae mean?” I bit my lip, realizing I didn’t know the answer. “On the bench?” It was more of a question than an answer. “That’s En banc. It’s Latin for ‘friend of the court’.” I nodded slowly. “I’d be more than happy to help you study.” I stared at my textbook for a minute, going over my options. I could study on my own and risk failing, which means my parents would kick me out of the house. But if he helped me, maybe I can pass and live in the house another day.

“Okay. You can help me.” He smiled at me, slipping in the chair next to me. “Your name is Katy, right?” I nodded, realizing he was there when I had to give that stupid apology. “I’m Bob.” He held out his hand for me to shake, clasping my fingers around his, I realized just how big his hands are. I was worried I would struggle to study with Bob, but he made it so easy. He taught me a few ways to remember phrases, and it’s like a whole new world opened up in front of me. “Hey! Baby on Board! What are you doing?” Our heads snapped up at the sound of Coop's voice. He seemed angry, and Lieutenant Seresin behind him didn’t look happy either. I watched as his eyes shifted from Bob to me and I immediately hung my head. “Don’t waste your time with her. Come on.” He waved him over and Bob looked to me before back to Coop. “I think I’m gonna stay here and help her study.” My head snapped up to him in surprise and he flashed me a small smile. “She’s not fucking worth it. Now, come on.” Bob opened his mouth to retort, but Lieutenant Seresin cut him off. “Don’t fucking argue, Floyd.” I closed my text book, putting it in my back. “I’ll just leave.”

“I see you’ve finally got some brains. You can finally tell when people don’t want you around.” Coop snapped and I just stood with my bag, ignoring his words. “I have to say, I can’t stand to look at her face. But God do I love watching her walk away.” I heard their laughter behind me. I just kept my head down, hiding my tears as I made my way down the hallway. Once I was a ways down the hallway, I stopped, pulling my glasses off and wiping my eyes clean. “Hey, you okay?” I turned, seeing a woman and the guy with the mustache walking up. I turned to them, leaning against the wall as I took a deep breath. “O-oh, yeah. I’m fine.” The girl smiled at me. “We just wanted to say, Coop was completely in the wrong.” She said and the guy behind her smiled. “Yeah, and it definitely wasn’t okay that Commander Blair made you apologize to him.” I offered them a small smile. “Thanks.” The girl held out her hand for me to shake. “Natasha, callsign Phoenix.” I shook the guys hand next. “Bradley, callsign Rooster.” I smiled, feeling a little better. Their smiles were infectious.

“I’m-“ “Katy Scarlett!” My fathers voice boomed down the hallway, making me stand rigid as I turned to face him. “You’re supposed to be studying.” I nodded, folding my hands in front of me. “Yes, sir. It was just getting noisy in the rec room, so I was coming to ask if I could go home and study there? I’ll probably focus better.” He stared at me for a moment before looking to Natasha and Bradley. “Was she bothering you?” My shoulders tensed as he laid a hand on them, turning me around to face them. I kept my eyes trained on my heels, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Not at all. I noticed her shoes in the hangar earlier and stopped her to ask them what brand they were. Valentino? Right?” Natasha asked as she leaned down to catch my eyes. I stared into hers, seeing something flash in them and I knew she was trying to keep me out of trouble. “Yes. They’re very comfortable.” My dad nodded, looking down at me. “Very well. Go home. I’ll be late so make sure you’re studying before dinner.” I nodded. “Yes, sir.” I said before turning and making my way out to my car. Once I was inside, I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I owe Natasha big time.” I mumbled to myself as I cranked my car.

I studied until dad came home, rushing downstairs to make sure I had the table set before he sat down. Once I did that he sat down, and mom placed his plate in front of him before we made our plates. “How was work, dear?” My mom asked, looking over at my dad. “Good. I have to be on base early in the morning. The team that Iceman put together ships out for their mission in the morning.” I listened intensely as they discussed his work. “They keep talking about how ‘someone may not make it back’. Cyclone isn’t worried about it, but Maverick is.” My mom scoffed. “Ugh. Maverick? He’s still flying? I figured he would’ve been discharged from the Navy, or more likely, dead.” My dad chuckled. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he’ll go down on this mission.” My heart lurched into my throat at his words. How can someone have such disregard for human life? “Katy.” My head snapped up to catch my mother’s eye. “God, listen to me the first time I say your name. You need to eat more peas.” I took a deep breath. “I’m twenty-five mother. I eat every vegetable but peas.” She grabbed the spoon that sat in the bowl of peas and lifted it, slamming a huge scoop of them down on my plate. “Just fucking listen and eat them. I don’t need any remarks from you every time I say something.” I just did as she said, no energy to fight with her about it.

The texture and taste was gross, but I just have to pick my battles with her. When we were done, my parents went out onto the back deck for drinks, and I cleaned up the kitchen. I used to complain about it, but as I got older, I realized this was the only time I could guarantee they wouldn’t barge in and they would leave me alone. Once I was finished, I went back upstairs and into my room. I have spent most all of the day studying, so I opted to read a book from my shelf. I plucked Salem’s Lot from my shelf, plopping down on my bed to read it. I got 5 pages in when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart pounded in my chest, knowing they were my fathers, but they didn’t sound like angry footsteps. I sat up quickly when my door opened, my eyes widening behind my metal frames as my father stared at me. “What are you reading?” I gulped, looking down at the book in my hand. “Salem’s Lot?” It should’ve been a statement, but I was scared of the look in his eye. “You have another exam tomorrow.” I nodded, standing from my bed. “Yes, but I’ve been studying non-stop for the past week. I-I thought maybe reading something different for an hour would help me relax.” I was flipping the book from hand to hand, struggling to sit still in the tension filled room. “Just put it down and study. I’m tired of having to ride your ass about school. Just fucking study and pass your fucking tests before you force your mother and I to kick you out.” He huffed and I nodded. “Yes sir.” I put the book back before sitting down at my desk, turning on my laptop. With that he closed the door and I sighed, leaning back in my chair. While I waited for my computer to boot up, I stood, walking over to my fish tank to feed them. I watched as Splish and Splash, my twin goldfish shoved each other around trying to eat. “Guys. There’s plenty.” I dropped just a little more in the tank, giggling as the all rushed around. “Do you guys think I’d make a good lawyer?” I asked as Frankie, my angel fish turned to me, almost staring for a second before swimming off. “Yeah, I don’t think so either.” I sighed before sitting back down in my desk chair.

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

Taglist: @wkndwlff @cherrycola27 @daisydaisygoose

#hangman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin x oc #hangman fic #hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #hangman top gun #undiagnosed #ADHD OC #jake seresin x neurodivergent oc

428 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 7 months

Note

would you please consider making a 2nd part to The Other Drew maybe them going on reading dates and him bringing her lunch to work, her coming to his games 🥹

The Other Y/N (Part 2)

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Swearing and Stealing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

The screams of the crowd overwhelm the girl and she really wants to leave, but the need to be here for her boyfriend overrides any instinct to run. Her seat is close enough to the court that she can clearly see the sweat dripping off of his face as he plays. No matter how many times Drew tries to explain the rules of basketball to her, she still has no clue what is going on. The blow of a whistle for a foul stops the game and the crowd quiets as Drew gets ready to take the shot. The bouncing ball draws everyone's attention. He takes a second to look in Y/N’s direction and the confidence in her eyes gives him the courage to throw the ball.

The ball circles the edge of the rim, going round and round before falling through the centre of the hoop. A loud horn sounds to announce the end of the game and the whole court goes crazy with celebration. The rest of the players turn to congratulate him, but his attention is fully on her. He runs into the stands and once he reaches her, he picks her up in his arms. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Darling. You are my lucky charm,” he announces, spinning them around in a laugh. She gives him a massive grin and brings their lips together. He finally puts her down and with her encouragement, he goes to celebrate with his teammates.

———

After a night out celebrating with his team and an early morning celebrating together without clothes on, Y/N has to wake up early to head to work. A naked Drew groans, rolling over to watch her put some clothes on. He doesn’t comment on the fact that she is putting on one of his sweatpants and t-shirts; his closet is practically hers now anyway. “Why are you up? Come back to bed, Darling,” he groans, reaching an arm out to tug her closer to his bed. She gives a little giggle as he pulls her onto the bed and wraps a leg around her waist so she can’t escape. She tries to wiggle out of his grasp, “Baby, you know I have to go to work. Now, please let me go. I promise I will be back in your bed before you know it.” He gives a little sigh in defeat. “Fine, I’ll let you go. But I want you to pick out the next book we read together. We are done with The Midnight Library and it’s your turn to pick.” She nods, “Okay, I will. Anything in specific we are in the mood for?”

“Hmmm, maybe a Greek mythology retelling. The one I’m reading in my Mythology literature course is boring as fuck.”

“Sounds good. I’ll try to see if I can find something more interesting.”

———

Y/N is helping a little girl choose a book when Drew walks into the store. “How about this one? It’s about a princess with magical powers?” she suggests, holding up a book with a princess on the cover. A grin spreads across the girl’s face. She grabs the book with thanks and runs off to her mom. Y/N smiles, heading back to the front desk to see her boyfriend waiting for her with a paper bag.

“Hey Baby, what are you doing here?” she asks. She leans over the counter to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He holds up the back so she can read the logo, “Brought us some food to share, Darling. When can you take your break?” She looks towards the clock and does a little math in her head. “Aww, thank you. Bianca is coming back from her breaking in five so we can head to the back then,” she determines, starting to get back to work with scanning the new inventory. He nods at her statement and goes to look around the store. When Bianca returns, Y/N takes Drew to the employee break room.

The store isn’t very big, so the break room is really just the stock room with lockers, a fridge, a microwave, and a small table pushed into a corner. As soon as they sit down at the table, Drew is sure to pull her chair close to his so he can wrap his arm around her waist. She takes out their burgers and rips the bag open to have easy access to the large fries inside. They begin to eat in a comfortable silence. “Have you found a book to read yet?” he breaks the silence. She finishes chewing her food before answering, “Yeah, I was thinking of Circe by Madeline Miller. I’ve seen some pretty good stuff about it on Instagram and I liked the Song of Achilles.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about picking that up myself. Some girl in my class was talking about it the other day. Good choice, Darling. Do you guys have it in stock or do you need me to pick it up before tonight?”

“No, we have it so I can get it once my shift is over. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Austin and I are going to watch a movie, so if I don’t respond to your text that’s probably why.

“What movie are you watching?”

“Not sure. We are going to choose at the theatre. What time are you off? Should I pick you up?”

“I’m done at four, but Bianca can give me a ride. I’ll just meet you at your house. I’m sorry, Baby. We gotta wrap it up. My break is almost over.”

———

The frat is filled with rowdy boys all having a laugh when Y/N comes back after work. She greets most of the boys, yet she doesn’t stop to talk to any of them because she knows where the one person she wants to talk to is. Like always, the back deck is decorated with fairy lights and a red and white checkered blanket is laid out on the floor. Pillows and charcuterie boards litter the blanket. Drew stops rearranging a board at the sound of the sliding door opening.

“Hi Darling, how was work?” he welcomes, settling himself on a pillow so she can lie down on him. She rests her head on his stomach, “It was fine. Nothing special happened. Having you come for lunch was the highlight of my day.” He smiles at her words. “It was the highlight of my day too, Darling. I love you,” he moves the hair away from her temple and gives her a kiss. She takes out the book from her tote, “I love you too. Can you read first, please? I miss the sound of your voice.” His smile turns into a grin and he takes the book from her hands. Her head turns on his stomach, so she can look at his face and her ear is pressed against him. He starts to read from the book. They take turns reading and feeding whoever is reading until both of their eyes feel droopy. They call it a night, packing everything up before heading up to his room.

———

Drew never thought his girlfriend would be by his side right now. It is the night before his game against his big rival team and they find themselves sneaking into the team’s storage closet. “I can’t believe you are doing this with me,” he whispers while picking the lock. Her mouth finds the shell of his ear, “I can’t let you do this by yourself. Plus, their cheerleaders were jerks to me last time you had a game with them.”

“How come you didn’t tell me? I would’ve had a word with them.”

“It’s okay. I saw the head cheerleader fall on her face when you were in the changing room. It was funny. Now, hurry up before we get caught.”

He finishes with the lock and she runs inside to get the mascot costume. “Hey, you aren’t supposed to be here!” a voice yells from behind them. They turn to see a security guard running their way and he takes her hand into his. They start running toward the exit. When they get to the outdoors, they look for places to hide and come up empty. The only thing Drew can think to do is something he saw in a movie. He gently spins her against the wall and places his hand above her head. His finger lifts her chin up. His lips capture hers and they start making out. The security guard quickly shines his flashlight in their face before moving on to look in another direction.

The giggles they let out when he leaves probably give them away, but they don’t care. They run to his car while laughing like maniacs. “I can’t believe we got away with this,” she awes, looking at the mascot suit in the backseat. He gives her a quick kiss, “I still can’t believe you did this. It’s like you are a completely other Y/N.”

“What can I say? I have multiple sides to my personality.”

#drew starkey #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you

196 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 7 months

Note

blurb idea sugar daddy h giving her his credit card !?? ima try and think up more

omg yeah bestie....

. . .

"Harry, this is stupid."

The sound of his warm chuckle echoes through the phone and she wrinkles her nose, bumping her hip against the marble kitchen counter.

"I don't think it's stupid. That's quite mean of you to say, babe."

She rolls her eyes as her frozen waffles pop out of the toaster, hurrying over to grab them and put them on a plate.

"I can't believe you have me buy those Eggo waffles," he grumbles. He fights her on this at least once a week — it's what she eats for breakfast at home, and it's the easiest thing for her to eat on the mornings Harry has to go into the office before she even wakes up. "Anyway, it's not stupid. You did incredible on all of your midterms, you deserve a little shopping spree. Or a big one, I don't care."

"I don't need anything, though!" she whines through a mouthful of toaster waffle.

"I don't careeee," he sings and she can just imagine the stupid little smile on his face as he sits at his desk. "Whatever you want, baby, it's yours — I don't wanna hear a thing until you've spent at least $500."

"You're being ridiculous!"

She hears him laughing before the line goes dead and she scowls. She stews in annoyance as she stands in his kitchen, chewing thoughtfully, wearing the lavish silk robe he bought her a few months back when it finally clicks — she knows exactly what she's buying with his credit card.

. . .

"Angel? You here?"

She smiles to herself as she tugs at the stockings around her thighs, making sure they won't slip down. She was worried that Harry would end up staying late at the office again, but thankfully, she managed to time things perfectly.

"Up here!" She calls, flicking the bathroom light off and walking out to his bedroom. She hears the steady thumps of his footsteps as he climbs the stairs and walks down the hallway, passing the office and finally, twists open the knob to his bedroom.

Now, when he left her his credit card this morning, he thought she might buy that iPad she's been thinking about to help her organize her notes better. Maybe a few books, an expensive face mask — all things that were classically her.

He wasn't expecting to step into his bedroom and see his sweet girl dressed in lacy black lingerie. A sheer black bodysuit envelops her torso, delicate lace cups covering her breasts with the smallest bit of her nipples peeking out. Thigh high socks cover the length of her legs, the embellished bands of the stockings stopping at the thick of her thighs. She looks absolutely heavenly, even if this little surprise is anything but.

"Is this what you bought today, baby?" Harry asks, stepping towards her slowly. Her hands are tucked behind her back and she nods, biting her lip.

"A few other sets, too," she murmurs, blinking up at him as he towers over her, "Do you like it?"

He chuckles and leans down to meet her height, whispering into the shell of her ear.

"I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

#hehe thanks for the request :)#bestie asks #sugar daddy h

61 notes · View notes

johnsbleu · 9 months

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader 158

warnings: a bit spicy, dual pov HMH masterlist

My class today went really well. Everyone has come so far since they first started, and it’s pretty cool to see the improvement. Some of the students who needed so much help in the beginning are now helping other students, and it makes me pretty proud. I’m just teaching them to bind books, so it’s not like I’m teaching them some complicated scientific equation, but I’m still pretty proud seeing how far they’ve come.

Usually I would have Y/N here with me since I just feel more comfortable when she’s around, but she had an appointment to go to today. Of course as soon as I heard that she needed to see her doctor, I already had my phone in my hand to call all the students and cancel the class for today. Being the angel that she is, she didn’t want me to miss out on my class and she didn’t want the students to either. I love being with someone who realizes how important this is to me.

Mrs. Wick, an absolute angel and godsend. Perfectly made for me.

I’m just getting everything cleaned up right now since the shop is closed for the night, then I’ll head home to my girls, who the more I thought about, the more impatient I get. I just want to see them! I grab the utensils off the tables and put them in the box, then I take them into the office and put them side--I spent quite a bit of money on them and definitely don’t want them stolen.

Just as I walk back out, I spot Y/N sitting at one of the tables smiling at me. She must have just snuck in while I was in the office.

“Hi,” I smile at her, walking over to kiss her but I stop when she stands up and reveals the school girl outfit she’s wearing, white button up shirt (totally my shirt) that definitely is not buttoned right since her chest is showing and red plaid skirt, “Oh…”

“Are you Mr. Wick?” she asks with a coy smile and a batting of her lashes, and I laugh as I nod. “My friends said they were taking a class and it was taught by like, this really hot guy. My guess is that’s you. And if so, they…severely downplayed just how hot you are.”

I laugh a little, “Uh, I guess, well, I mean, I teach this class.”

“Hmm,” she twirls her hair a little as she stands in front of me, and I notice the knee high stockings and Mary Jane’s she’s wearing. She smiles as her eyes rake over my body, and I suddenly feel so self conscious. I know my wife is attracted to me, but now I’m worried that she doesn’t like what she sees. She looks at me and smiles, “Well, I was wondering if I could get a one-on-one session.”

“Sure.” I say, and she plays with the edge of her skirt, pulling it up a little to reveal her thigh as we look at each other.

Y/N inhales deeply and puffs up her chest, then she looks down at her shoes, “Oh, would you look at that? My shoe is untied.”

She doesn’t even have shoe laces, but I play along since she’s so cute, “It sure is.”

I watch as she turns around and bends over to ‘tie’ her shoe, and her skirt pulls up to reveal her ass. I laugh when she shakes her hips a little from side to side, then she stands up and looks at me.

“So, this one-on-one class…” she brushes her hair out of her face, “How do I pay for that? Money, or…something a little more physical?”

“Well,” I hold up my left hand, “I am a married man.”

Y/N laughs, “She doesn’t have to know.”

“I’m not sure,” I say, and she smiles, “I’m crazy about her. I couldn’t do that.”

Y/N walks closer to me and runs her hands over my chest as we look each other, then she moves her hand down to my belt. I lean a little closer and hover above her lips, and we brush them lightly together before she leans back to look at me.

“I’m married,” I whisper, and she smirks. “I can’t do this.”

“So, you don’t want to bend me over your desk?” she asks, and I laugh. She holds my gaze and smiles, “I know you want to.”

I lean down and brush my lips over hers, “But my wife is wonderful and amazing, and she doesn’t deserve this--”

Y/N steps back and laughs, “John!”

“I’m sorry!” I laugh as I pull her back to me, “It’s weird! I can’t imagine having sex with anyone but you.”

“Ugh! You’re so romantic, but just go along with me. Come on!” she laughs, moving my hand down to her ass, “Play along.”

I smile as I squeeze her ass, “Fine.”

“Do you ever have one-on-one sessions with your students?” she asks, looking up at me with a deep lust in her eyes.

“Uh, no, you’re the first.” I whisper against her neck, and she closes her eyes, “Better not make a habit of it.”

Y/N leans back and smirks, “Oh, you’re gonna have a hard time breaking this habit, I fear.”

“Me too,” I admit, and she smiles.

“Well, I think you should show me around your office. Since I’ve never been here, I’ve never seen it.”

“Don’t know how much you’ll see with your face pressed into my desk,” I lift her up and rest my hands under her ass, and she nearly moans. “But what you want, you’ll get.”

We kiss as I carry her back to the office and set her down on the desk. I turn around to lock the office door, and we reach for each other and kiss deeply and passionately. She pushes me to sit down in the chair, then she stands in front of me and slowly unbuttons her top to reveal her breasts. I lean forward and run my hands up and down her thighs, and she pulls her top off as my hands slide up to caress her breasts.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful breasts?”

Y/N laughs as I rub my thumbs over her nipples, “Uh, no. Also I’m pretty sure you never call them breasts. It’s usually tits.”

“I’m sure someone has, like…a boyfriend or a husband…” I say, and she smirks since she knows it’s a compliment she’s received many times from me. “You have very beautiful breasts. Very full and round. Just lovely.”

“Well, thank you. I’ll save that compliment and cherish it, Mr. Wick.”

I nod, “Mm, good.”

Y/N moves closer to me so I can kiss on her breasts, and she tilts her head back and smiles when I suck her nipple. I hum and close my eyes, then I move to give the other one just as much attention. I move my tongue over her nipple as she looks at me, and I notice her squeeze her legs shut.

“Do you like…this?” she asks as she turns around and lifts her skirt to reveal her lacy pink thong, and I pull her back more to bite her ass as she laughs. I kiss along the waistband of underwear, then I pull her into my lap. “Am I your favorite student?”

I close my eyes as she rotates her hips on my lap, and I nod my head, “My absolute favorite.”

Y/N moves my hands up to her breasts, then she leans back and grinds on me as we make out for a few minutes. She finally gets up and turns around as she kneels in front of me, then she bites her lip as I unbutton my jeans to reveal my erection. A smile tugs at her lips as she looks at me.

“I’m very attracted to you, Mr. Wick.”

“Likewise,” I say, and she tilts her head, “You’re so sexy.”

She laughs quietly, “What should we do about this?”

“I have a few ideas what I’d like to do with you.”

“Do to me what your wife won’t let you do.”

This feels like a trap but I know it’s not. I know my wife. I know her. Never at any point during this do I feel like I’ll say something to piss her off. She’s just trying to have fun with me. I love it.

“There’s nothing my wife won’t let me do.”

Y/N leans up a little, “You’re damn right.”

I laugh as I look down at her, “So what now?”

“Use me however you see fit,” she smiles smugly, “Show me how much you wish I was your wife right now, because you seem like a very loyal man.”

“I am very loyal, especially to her.”

Y/N lets the mask slip for a second, showing her true self, her soft kind face, but the mask quickly comes back and this naughty woman has returned with that wicked smirk that deepens the dimple in her right cheek.

“I think we should start with me fucking that pretty mouth,” I whisper to her, and she bites her lip and nods. “I want to see that red lipstick all over my cock.”

“Yes, sir,” she smiles, tugging at my pants to pull them down around my ankles, “Anything for you, Mr. Wick.”

I grab her face and look into her eyes before I lean up to give her a sweet kiss--a kiss for her, not to whoever she’s pretending to be, and by the smile on her face, she knows it too.

We start slow with her taking her time to kiss down the length of my cock, and she’s always good at giving my balls just as much attention. When she finally takes me into the warmth of her mouth, I tilt my head back and moan loudly. I pump my hips a little impatiently and her eyes roll shut as I fuck her mouth, spit running down her chin as she gags before she sits back for a moment. I hold her gaze when she looks at me, then she closes her eyes and takes me into her mouth again, sucking the tip of my cock as she hums.

“Look at me,” I whisper, and she opens her eyes and looks at me, “Good girl. Good job, yeah, do that. Mm…yeah, do that with your tongue. Fuck, you’re doing such a good job.”

I reach down to move her hair out of the way, then I tilt my head back and moan. After she deep throats me a few times, she leans back to catch her breath and I grab the back of her head and crash my lips to hers. I pull away and peer down at her as she pants, trying to catch her breath as she wipes her chin clean. She licks her lips and meets my gaze, and I see how much she’s enjoying this.

“So naughty showing up here like this.”

“I just came for a one-on-one session with you, Mr. Wick.” she says, playing coy as I help her stand up.

I lean up to kiss her as she clings to me, and I grab her in my arms and lift her up to sit on the desk. We both look down as I pull her underwear off, and when she spreads her legs open, I immediately start to smile.

“When’s the last time you saw something so pretty?”

I cock up my brow since the real answer would be ‘last night’, but that’s not what she wants. She starts to grin when she knows I can’t lie, and she squeezes my hand reassuringly.

“Never,” I lick my lips as I look down at her pussy, and she touches herself. I look into her eyes and start to smile, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

She hums, “Do you want to taste it?”

“I’d like that very much.”

Y/N grabs my arm when I start to lean down, then she furrows her brow, “I didn’t say you could, I just asked if you wanted to.”

“Oh, I need to ask?” I ask, and she smiles as she nods her head, “Well, may I please have a taste?”

“Hmm,” she hums as she lays back on her elbows, spreading her legs open, “I suppose.”

I start to laugh, “You suppose? I need a clear answer here.”

“Your wife…” she says, and I nod, “Does she like when you go down?”

“She’s a fan,” I say, which makes her laugh. “A big fan, if that makes you feel any better.”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, “Does she scream for you?”

“She absolutely does,” I lean closer and kiss her, “I bet she’s dying for me to go down on her right now.”

She nods as she looks down between her legs, “I don’t know her, but yeah, I bet she is.”

“Would you like to find out why she’s such a big fan?”

“I would love to,” she holds my gaze as I lean up to kiss her. She touches my cheek and smiles softly, and my heart swells when I see little glimpses of my sweet wife poke through.

Fuck, I love her. I absolutely wrecked for this woman. Almost three years in and I’m still fucking crazy for her. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being.

I hold her gaze as I move down her thigh, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. She sucks on her bottom lip when I finally get settled between her legs, and her eyes don’t move from off of me. I slip one finger in, she moans. I slip another finger in, she moans louder. I pump them in and out at a slow pace and devour her with my mouth, and she arches her back and nearly screams my name. I hum loudly as I taste her, focusing on her clit, and her legs shake on either side of my head as she climaxes. I lick a strip down to her entrance and roll my tongue over her before going back up to focus on her clit.

“Holy shit, John,” she pants, letting out a small laugh, “Oh, shit, keep going.”

I do as I’m told because what am I if not an obedient husband? She tilts her head up and sees that I’m stroking myself, and it only elicits a moan so loud that I wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard on the street. I bury my face between her legs and continue to eat her out, and she grips my hair as she rides through another orgasm.

“I see,” she laughs breathlessly, “I definitely see why she’s such a big fan, Mr. Wick.”

I stand up and smile as I wipe my beard off, “You taste fantastic.”

“Thank you,” she looks down between her legs, her pussy pink and tender, “Mmm, I think I need more. I think I need to feel you between my legs. Now.”

I turn her around and push her to lean over my desk, then I pull her skirt up and spank her as she gasps and lets out a small laugh. I move my hand into her hair to tilt her head back so she’ll look at me, then with one hard thrust, I bury myself deep inside of her.

“Fuck!” she moans and hums, then she looks at me and smiles, “I think you’re my new favorite teacher.”

I laugh as I lean down closer to her ear, “You’re naughty, Mrs. Wick.”

She tilts her head back and laughs, “I thought you’d like this.”

“And I certainly do.” I whisper, then I grip her hips tight and thrust into her as we both pant.

The two of us pant and curse, moan one another’s names, grip each other tight as the thrusts get more intense and frantic, and change positions over the course of 15 minutes until I realize I can’t hold it off any longer. I cup her face and kiss her as I pull her up from laying on the desk, and she wraps her arms around my neck.

“I’m gonna come, but I don’t want this to end.” I whisper to her, and she smiles and smooths my damp hair back.

“It’s okay.”

I watch as she lays back down on the desk and smiles at me as her breasts bounce from my thrusts, and I grip her hips tighter and listen as she whimpers loudly for me. I place her legs over my shoulders and push myself in deeper as she holds my gaze, and I reach up to caress her breast as she screams my name.

“You’re a fucking dream, you know that?” I whisper, and she closes her eyes and smiles before she arches her back and reaches down to rub circles on her clit.

We both moan and pant as we ride out our orgasms, and she sits up and kisses me with fervor. She finally lets out a big breath and lays back on the desk, and I pull out and lean over to kiss her stomach as she laughs. I brush my lips above her belly button and listen to her laugh even louder, then I grab her wrists and gently pull her to sit up.

“You’re a pretty great wife.”

Y/N smiles shyly as she laughs, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Of course.” I rest my hands on either side of her on the desk, then I kiss her, “But you know I’m totally fine with sex at home too.”

“Yeah,” she nods, holding my gaze, “But it’s always fun to switch it up. These walls have seen my ass one too many times though.”

I cup her face and kiss her as she wraps her arms around me, and I hug her tight before we both let go and begin to clean ourselves up.

“Do you have any clothes?”

“Yeah, a bag in my car.” she laughs as she pulls her underwear back on, “I was gonna ask if you could grab it for me.”

I laugh as I kiss her, “You don’t want to go out and grocery shop in this?”

“Fuck no! Can you imagine the looks I’d get from the Mill Neck Moms? I’d be mortified.”

“I think you look great.” I say, and she begins to blush. “Though, I will admit, I do miss your usual outfits.”

Y/N laughs, “Sure. Yoga pants just ooze sex appeal.”

“I feel like you’ve never really seen yourself in yoga pants before.” I say, and she laughs as she shakes her head. I buckle my belt and lean over to kiss her, “Stay here. I’ll grab your bag.”

It’s still raining as I rush out to the car for her bag, and I quickly run back inside and wipe the rain off my face, heading back to the office. Y/N is still topless and only wearing a skirt and knee high socks, and I laugh a little when she turns around to look at me. She really is incredible.

“Thanks.” she kisses me and takes the bag, then she pulls out some jeans and a sweater to put on. “I was just looking at the books your students are working on. They look great.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty proud.”

Y/N looks at me as she buttons her jeans, “I’m pretty proud of you too. You’re a really good teacher.”

“Is that you saying it or is that…”

“Veronica,” she says in a breathy, sultry voice that makes me laugh.

I lean back against my desk, “I was thinking along the lines of Stacy.”

“Nope, definitely a Veronica.” she fastens the clasp on her bra and laughs, “Maybe you’ll see her again someday. Who knows?”

“I liked the skirt.”

She starts to laugh, “I’m afraid to tell you who I borrowed it from.”

I look at her and shake my head, “Lemme guess: Tess?”

“Yeah,” she laughs.

“Why does Tess have a tiny red skirt?” I ask, and she raises both eyebrows as she looks at me since we both know why--Y/N and I aren’t the only ones with a healthy sex life. I nod, “Yeah, never mind. On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

John reaches out for you once you get your sweater on, then he kisses you a few times, “There’s my wife.”

“Here I am!” you put your hands above your head and laugh, then you wrap your arms around his neck. You pull back a little, “Wait, you didn’t like Veronica?”

He laughs, “No, I loved that, but I love you more.”

“Well, you better always love me more. Can’t have you falling in love with another woman now.” you say, and he laughs as he leans down to kiss you.

“You make me really happy, peach.”

“You make me happy too.”

“Not just because of this stuff, I hope you know that.” he says, and you nod your head. He pulls your hair out from the neck of your sweater, then he runs his hand down your back, “I missed you today.”

You smile as you sway back and forth in his arms, “I missed you too. I’m gonna go pick up Ro.”

“I was wondering where she was when I saw Veronica show up.”

You laugh as you pat his cheeks lightly in your hands, then you walk over to put your things in your bag, “I dropped her off with my mom on my way to my appointment.”

“How did that go, by the way?” he says, worry in his eyes, “Is everything okay? Fuck, I didn’t even ask when you came in.”

“Well, I’d say you were pretty distracted,” you say, but he doesn’t laugh.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, your doctor called and wanted you to come back in just for some blood work. There was nothing to be scared about, she reassured you, but she just wanted to double check something to be absolutely certain. Your heart rate was just a little low lately and you were having some vertigo, but it turns out you just weren’t getting enough rest and food lately--that’s life with a new baby! Everything ended up being fine though.

“I’m fine, baby.” you say since you know he always get concerned when you’re scheduled for an appointment, then you gesture for him to follow you as you walk out to the shop floor to look for a certain book. “Doctor Mendez was bummed that I didn’t have Ronan with though, so next time we go in for her appointment, we’ll have to bring her in so she can see Doctor Mendez.”

John nods, “Yeah, definitely. But everything was okay with you?”

With John’s past of taking Helen to appointments, he’s always waiting for the bad news to come, but it never does because you’re totally fine and healthy.

“Yes, of course. My vertigo was because I’m not getting enough food and rest, but we already talked about this, didn’t we? I’m fine, and I’m just going to start snacking more throughout the day and resting when Ro is.”

“Just making sure.” he says softly as you scratch your fingers against his beard. “You know I worry.”

“I know you do, Wick,” you kiss his lips and smile. You pull the book off the shelf and nod, “I was wondering if we had this. I’ve been wanting to read it. We have…four other copies, so I’m gonna take this one.”

“Yeah, go ahead. I have a box of new arrivals that I haven’t put out, so you can always look through those.” he says, and you widen your eyes and rush back to the office, “Yup, figured you’d be excited to hear that.”

Digging through the box, you set a few books aside and feel John wrap his arms around your waist. He kisses your neck and cheek as you read the back of a book, then you hand it back to him.

“Sounds like something you’d like.”

John takes it and keeps his left arm around your waist as he reads the synopsis, “Yeah, sounds good.”

You grab the books and move to your bag with John still clinging to your waist, and you laugh when he shuffles behind you. He kisses your cheek a few more times, then he backs off. You grab your bag and put it over your shoulder, then you smile and reach for John’s hand.

“So, you’re gonna go get Ro?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

John opens the door for you and waits for you to open your umbrella, then he locks the door. He gets under the umbrella with you and laughs as you both walk to your car.

“Please drive carefully.” he whispers, and you look over at his sad eyes.

The car accident was months ago, but still. You still think about it every time you get in the car. John obviously does too. You didn’t drive for a few days, but you soon realized you hated just sitting at home. You were insanely bored one day and grabbed the keys and just took a short drive until you felt comfortable again.

“I will,” you smile at him, leaning up to kiss him. You open the door to get in, then you hand the umbrella off to him since he’ll have to walk through the rain to his car. “I love you.”

John smiles, leaning in to kiss you, “I love you too. I’ll get dinner started.”

“Best husband ever!” you say, and he laughs as he closes the door and waves at you.

The storm got even worse on your way to pick up Ronan, so you didn’t stay long at your mom’s house. Ronan was a bit fussy but it was only because she was getting hungry. You texted John before you left and he said dinner would just about be done by the time you got home, and boy does it smell fan-fucking-tastic in the house when you do.

“Ooh, it smells good in here!” you say, then you set Ronan down as you get your wet shoes off. You lean down to get her out of her little raincoat, then you pick her up and walk to the kitchen.

The table is already set when you walk in and John is walking around the kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulder as he gets the plates filled with food. He glances up when Ronan squeals, then he laughs and walks over.

“I didn’t even hear you come in. I was so…” he gestures to dinner and shakes his head, “Anyway, hi!”

Ronan reaches out for John and giggles when he blows raspberries in the crook of her neck, then she waves her arms around and squeals. She’s always so happy to see her daddy.

“Damn, John.” you look at the food on the counter, “This looks amazing.”

“I wanted to try something different tonight,” he says as he walks over to the counter, then he points at the pasta, “It’s called Green Monster Mac and Cheese. It’s pasta, broccoli, basil, pesto, shredded cheese, and spinach.”

You smile as John scoops up a bite for you, and you nod your head as you chew and give him a thumb up. Ronan kicks her legs and cries a little, so John walks over to put her into her highchair.

“I also made some chicken for us and our bug.”

“Sounds good, Wick.”

The two of you move around the kitchen and get your plates and drinks, then you sit down at the table with John. He cuts up pieces of chicken for Ronan and sets them on her plate, and she doesn’t hesitate to stuff her face. You sit in unusual silence for about 5 minutes before you look at John and laugh a little.

“It’s so good, I have no words.” you laugh, and John nods his head.

Ronan reaches out to hand John a piece of her chicken, and he eats it out of her hand as she giggles. She picks up another piece and leans to her left to hand a piece to you, which you take, and she claps her hands.

“So easily entertained,” John laughs.

Lightning lights up the backyard momentarily, then thunder rumbles so loud that it shakes the house and makes Bleu run to hide under the table even though he’s not allowed in the kitchen during dinnertime. Ronan jumps and widens her eyes when thunder rumbles again, then she starts to cry and reaches out for you.

“Oh, I know.”

“I’m gonna turn on the news.” John says, and you nod. “You keep eating though.”

You hold up John’s plate, “Babe, take your food with you!”

You’re almost done with your food, so you quickly inhale the rest of it and hold Ronan. You get up and head to her room to change her into her pajamas, then you grab a few books for her and join John on the couch as he watches the news.

“We’re looking at some strong winds, hail, flooding, and even possible tornadoes in the area.” the meteorologist says, and you look up at the TV to see the colorful cloud moving over the map of New York. “If you are located in Long Island, be prepared. You’re going to see the worst of this storm.”

You scoff, then you playfully kick your leg, “What’s new?”

John looks over at you, “We should sleep downstairs.”

“I figured.” you say, then you look down at Ronan as she chews on her toys.

The storm is only getting worse as you sit on the couch, but you’re not really ready to go downstairs for the night. John has gotten up and is now pacing back and forth by the window as he looks out at the storm, and you laugh a little when you see him put his hands on his hips as he thinks something through.

You sit up a little more and watch as he opens the patio door and heads outside into the rain to move the patio furniture to the side of the house.

“Look how strange daddy is,” you say to Ronan as the two of you watch him from the couch, and she squeals loudly when he comes back inside. “What was that all about?”

“Well,” he stands in the doorway and closes the doors, “If the winds are going to get bad, I don’t really think it’s a good idea to have the furniture right there.”

You set Ronan down on her play-mat and get up to get John a towel since he’s soaked to the bone, then you walk out and wrap it around him, rubbing his arms to warm him up a little. He wipes his face and hair dry, then he pulls his wet shirt off and looks down to make sure his jeans aren’t soaked. You bite your lip a little as you look at John’s body, still so tall and lean and fit, and he smiles when he catches you.

“I saw that.”

“You saw nothing.” you laugh.

John laughs as he leans closer to you, “I think you think I’m hot.”

“Well, you’re right about that.” you say as you laugh, then you lean up to kiss him, “You’re just getting sexier. It’s really annoying.”

“So are you.” he says, then he laughs and shakes his head, “That you’re getting sexier, not that you’re annoying.”

You laugh as he fumbles to correct himself, but you knew what he meant, “You’re very sexy, Mr. Wick.”

“You are too,” he smiles, then he leaves a wet kiss on your cheek before he heads upstairs to get changed.

“Dada!” Ronan squeals, and you look over at her as she holds up the TV remote to the stairs where John just went.

You start to laugh, “Oh, daddy, Ro has something for you.”

John laughs as he comes back down the stairs, still putting his shirt on, “Can you bring it to dada?”

Ronan wobbles as she holds the remote high in the air, then she takes a few wobbly steps forward before she falls back onto her butt. She crawls over with the remote in her hand, then she pulls herself up on John’s jeans and hands it to him. She’s started walking recently but every now and then, she’ll fall back to crawling, which Doctor Marlene said was perfectly normal.

“Thank you, bug.” he laughs, then he looks at you, “Apparently she’s sick of the news.”

“We better put on a movie then.” you scoop Ronan up and flip her upside down as she squeals, then you hold her like a wood log and blow raspberries on her belly to make her laugh. “And daddy should get some snacks. Or, actually, I can. It doesn’t have to be you.”

John laughs as he leans over the back of the couch and kisses your cheek, “I can do it.”

“What are we watching?” you ask Ronan, and she points at Inside Out on the screen. “Oh, daddy is gonna cry again.”

“Why?” John asks from the kitchen.

“Inside Out.”

John playfully groans, “I will absolutely cry.”

A few months ago, you were watching Finn and he picked the movie out to watch. You were busy giving Ronan a bath since she needed to be put down for the night, and John was with Finn on the couch watching the movie. When you came out, John was tearing up and holding Finn tight to his side. You leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he quickly wiped his tears away and took Ronan, holding her tight in his arms as he closed his eyes. It was sweet and honestly probably one of your favorite memories.

“Alright,” John sits down and sets a bowl of in your lap, Ronan’s snack: fruit and dry cereal.

You move Ronan so she can sit between you and John, and you both laugh when she crosses her legs at her ankles and sits back as if she’s some distinguished 40 year old. John wraps his arm around the back of the couch and rests his hand on the back of neck, where he rubs his thumb gently over the nape of your neck. He probably doesn’t realize how intimate it is but it makes you shiver a little.

“Ah!” Ronan reaches up to offer a chunk of banana to you, and you take it from her.

“Thank you,” you smile as you lean down to kiss her forehead, then you smile when John rubs your neck again.

Ronan fell asleep in my arms about 40 minutes into the movie. Y/N fell asleep 42 minutes into it. Both of them were curled up against me. It was absolutely the best way to end the night. I brought Ronan up to her room and put her to sleep, but when I went back down to the living room to get Y/N, she was already up and turning off the lights. The plan was to sleep downstairs since it’s storming, but we’re both too tired. The storm isn’t that bad anyway.

We look at one another when she turns off the lamp, and a huge smile spreads on my face. She tosses the remote onto the coffee table and takes my hands when I reach out for her, our lips immediately meeting for a warm kiss.

“Have I told you that I loved you today?”

“Yes, eight times.”

I furrow my brow, “Really?”

“No, I don’t know how many times, but if I had to guess, it would be…” she squints her eyes as she looks at the ceiling, “Once this morning, another before you left for work, twice when you called me earlier, once when I called you before my appointment, once when I left to get Ro. I’m probably missing one or two, so yeah, probably eight times.”

A laugh escapes my lips, “Should I cool it?”

“No!” she shakes her head, clinging to my waist, “Please don’t. I honestly really need to hear it as much as you say it. Thank you for saying it so often, babe. Genuinely.”

“Well, I love saying it,” I lean down to kiss her several times, “I love you.”

Y/N lets go to wrap her arms around my neck, “I love you too.”

We let go of one another so I can lock the doors and set the alarm, and she turns off the rest of the lights. We meet back in the living room and hold hands as we head upstairs, instinctively, like always, going to Ronan’s room to say goodnight. Bleu is laying on his fluffy bed in the corner of Ronan’s room, and he only lifts his head up a little when we walk in the room--he’s a little scared with the storm but nothing takes him away from Ronan.

“Goodnight, my bug.” Y/N says as she rubs Ronan’s tummy, “I love you so, so, so much.”

I lean over to kiss Ronan’s forehead, “I love you, baby girl.”

Y/N is smiling at me when I look at her, and she starts to tear up, “Sorry, I just love you being a dad.”

“I love being a dad,” I take her hand and pull her into my arms, “I feel like you’re getting tired.”

“Because I’m so emotional?”

I grimace, “Maybe.”

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

I start to laugh quietly before we leave Ronan’s room. I close our bedroom door a little and undress until I’m only in my boxers, and I look over to see Y/N pulling a nightgown over her head. Lately she’s been sleeping in just that--no underwear. I’m certainly not complaining.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you.” I say, and she raises her brows and looks over at me in our dimly lit bedroom, “About earlier.”

She freezes, eyes wide in fear, “About the whole thing at the shop?”

“Yeah,” I sit on the bed and pat the spot next to me. She immediately crawls over and sits next to me, looking at me with huge eyes. “Did you feel…obligated to do that for me?”

“No.”

I nod, “Did you feel like you had to do that to keep my interest?”

“No,” she answers again, then she starts to laugh, “Honestly I was just thinking about doing something for us, something so…random. I thought it would be funny to show up at the shop and surprise you. I didn’t feel like I had to or anything. I wanted to. Plus, I mean, I was super horny.”

I start to laugh as I reach for her hand, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to do stuff like that for me, okay?”

“Do you think I think our sex life is boring or something?” she asks, and I shrug a little.

“Maybe I’m not doing it for you anymore.”

Y/N looks mortified before she starts to laugh, “Are you kidding me, John? I could get off right now just from looking at you. Like literally just you standing there while I touch myself, I’d come in two minutes. Trust me, you are absolutely ‘doing it’ for me. I think you’re sexy as hell.”

“You don’t think I’m boring? I thought maybe you thought I was getting boring or something.”

“No! I don’t think our sex life is boring at all. I like the sex we have. I like the soft passionate love we make. I like the frenzied rough sex that we have where I’s a little fun to do something different and have no judgement. I showed up like that today because I knew you’d get a kick out of it. I knew you’d be turned on. I knew you’d love it, and I knew you wouldn’t make me feel like an idiot.” she says, and I nod my head as I smile, “You know me, I’m not into certain things, and thankfully our preferences run parallel to one another so we’re both happym literally left red and tender and I can’t fucking move my legs--shoutout to earlier because my legs are sore. I like the sex that we have where you have to press your hand to my mouth to keep me quiet because even though we have a heavy sleeper, she might wake up because I’m being too loud because you’re being too good. I like it all, but I must admit that it’re having, I love it, because it’s with you.”

I smooth her hair out of her face, “No matter what ‘kind’ of sex we’re having, I love it, because it’s with you.”

“Me too,” she smiles, holding tight to my hand, then she looks down at my crotch and smiles, “Big fan of him.”

“He’s a big fan of you,” I say, and her cheeks turn a little red, “He’s becoming an even bigger fan right now because you’re so damn sexy.”

Y/N looks up at me and holds my gaze for a moment. The air is like static right now. I can feel the electricity in the air. I can practically feel how much she wants me. She sucks on her bottom lip and cocks up her brow a little, and I cup her face and kiss her, laying her down on the bed. I reach down to pull her nightgown over her head, and she giggles when the strap gets stuck in her hair. I gently get it out of her hair and toss it to the ground.

“Take your boxers off,” she whispers, and I quickly dispose of them. She hums as she kisses me, but the moment I slip between her legs, she lets out a soft moan against my lips, “Just where I want you.”

“Just where I need to be,” I reply, and she laughs quietly, the light sparkling in her beautiful eyes. “Maybe even where I’m meant to be.”

She nods her head as her eyes roll shut, “Yes, absolutely.”

This hunger I have for her, it will never go away. I will always be absolutely, 100 percent, completely insatiable when it comes to her. And by the smile on her face right now, I have a feeling that she feels just the same way.

@sakurachan-9 @ruby-octo @beingnerdyissupercool

#john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick fic #john wick x y/n #fic: hold my hand #GOD I WISH THAT WAS ME #hey god its me again #anyway i hope you like it #<333

14 notes · View notes

messers-moony · 3 years

Text

So Perfect | J.P

Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through.

The bookstore was quiet most days. It was a tiny little two-story shop in London. The idea was it had a book for everyone. On the second story was a living quarter for the two siblings that worked at the shop. It was a small two-bedroom apartment, but it did what it was needed to do.

Remus and Y/n Lupin were the owners of the shop. It was their eighteenth birthday gift from their parents. Growing up, their parents didn’t have much, so for them, it means a lot. The name of the shop was something simple - Lupin’s Library - but inside held memories that they would cherish forever.

When they started the business, it was slow. Most days, no one would enter, and Y/n worked a separate job to help Remus pay the bills. But after a year it seemed that people preferred the shop over any other place in London. They enjoy the warmness of Remus’ smile and the radiant happiness from Y/n.

Remus worked behind the counter at the register, and when there wasn’t a customer, he was reading on the stool he sat on. Y/n did inventory and stocked books. She didn’t like to sit still, preferring to be on her feet moving around. Sometimes early in the morning, she’d grab donuts to leave on the front counter for early customers.

There was nothing like Lupin’s Library, and that’s why people loved it.

The bell-ringing announced a new customer into the shop. It was a tiny ding, nothing majorly loud. Y/n was stocking books while Remus was sleeping upstairs in his room. Over the past winter, he had caught a nasty cold leaving Y/n to take over the bookstore until he got better while also trying to take care of him.

“One moment, and I’ll be with you!” Y/n called as she slipped the last book into place.

She skipped to make it behind the counter where she met a man about her age - twenty-five. He was taller than her, maybe just around six feet. His hair was messy and curled slightly at the ends. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, and he radiated a certain playfulness Y/n could get used to.

“Mornin’ sir!” James was taken away by her light and fluffy accent, “What can I do for you today?”

He smiled, “Looking for something to read for my son.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s about to turn five.” James smiled proudly.

“That’s adorable!” Y/n gushed, “Any way we have magic treehouse books, maybe he’d like those?”

“Maybe, he’s been begging for new books.” James ran a hand through his hair, “It’s the only way I can get him to calm down.”

Y/n smiled, “You know, on Saturdays, I read to kids. If you want him to join us, he’s more than welcome. Saturdays, I read to kids five to nine. Sundays, I read to kids from ten to fifteen.”

“Wow,” James replied, “I’d love to take him in if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” She smiled, “Everyone’s welcome.”

James gave a grin in response as he searched the Library for these Magic Treehouse books. It took him five minutes before even finding the kids section, but when he did, James grabbed the set of them. He placed each book on top of another and brought them to the counter of the pretty girl.

He watched at how gently and smoothly she moved the books to scan them. James was so focused he didn’t even notice her handing him the books and the receipt, “But I didn’t-“

“It’s on the house.” Y/n replied, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

James’ face flushed; he hadn’t felt this way since Lily, “I’ll- um- see you Saturday….”

He walked out of the shop with a happy smile placed on his face. James hadn’t felt flustered and nervous around a girl since Lily in seventh grade. He had been head over heels for her since then. They began dating in sophomore year and had Harry right out of high school. It was poor planning on their part, but Harry was everything James had dreamed of. It wasn’t until Harry’s second birthday when Lily said she couldn’t take it anymore.

Not only had it broken James’ heart, but it broke Harry’s too. Harry had no idea where his momma had gone. What broke James’ heart the most was Lily saying she wanted absolutely nothing to do with either of them. Lily had placed the engagement ring on the wooden table, collected her things, and left, just like that.

Then it was just them against the world. James and his little mini-me, as Sirius would say. Sirius was the one who recommended the bookshop. He wouldn’t shut up about how cute the boy behind the register was (“Oh James, his hair looks so fluffy!”). It was like hearing a broken record. James didn’t see the boy with fluffy hair, but he did see the girl with the radiant smile.

That night James sat beside Harry in his twin bed. Harry was thrilled to see the new books on his shelf, and as James began reading, Harry became more hooked with each page. When James shut the book, Harry was devastated. He wanted to know more and finish the book! Alas, he had to go to sleep, and if he did, James promised him that they’d finish the book tomorrow.

When James brought up going to Lupin’s Library on Saturdays, Harry was ecstatic! He couldn’t wait to meet the new kids and begin a new book. By the time Saturday rolled around, they had finished two of the Magic Treehouse books. James entered the shop with Harry in front of him, hands on the little boy's shoulders. Now at the counter, he saw the boy with fluffy hair.

“Good afternoon, sir.” He greeted in the same soft accent, “Here for the kids reading circle?”

Harry nodded, and the boy chuckled, “Great. It’s just in that back corner.”

James thanked him before bringing Harry to the back corner, where kids were already sat on a rug. Blankets were spread among some of them, and the girl was sitting on a chair in the corner while the kids made a semi-circle around her. James beckoned Harry to sit, and James smiled at the girl in the chair.

As the reading began, James decided to venture through the bookstore. The bookshelves were surprisingly clean and rid of any dust. The books were taken care of, not a crease or bent page unless he went into the used section. Some people preferred new books; some preferred used. There truly was a book for everyone in here.

He made his way back to the front desk with some books he had gained from the shelves. A multitude of paperbacks and gently placed them on the counter. Remus put a bookmark in his book and began to scan each book just as smoothly as the girl. His hands didn’t seem as soft. They looked calloused and scarred. Sirius’ type, all the way.

“You wouldn’t happen to see a boy with straight black hair in here sometimes?” Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Wears ripped jeans and a leather jacket?”

Remus smiled, “Yes, we get him in here quite frequently.”

“Do you mind if I got your number for him?” James questioned, “He’s talked the world of you and your bookstore.”

“It’s not just my bookstore.” Remus correctly playfully, “My sister works it with me, who I see you’ve been well acquainted with.”

James’ face flushed pink, “I didn’t- I don’t-“

“It’s fine.” Remus replied, handing him the books and the receipt, “She’s a big girl. I trust her to make her own decisions.”

“I didn’t pay for these.”

“You can thank my sister.” Remus winked as he sat on the stool and began reading.

James grunted at not paying again. He rummaged through his wallet and placed forty pounds in the tip jar. Remus chuckled and shook his head at the gesture, appreciative nonetheless of the man's kindness. Another thirty minutes went by, and Harry was running back into his dad's arms.

“That was awesome!” Harry exclaimed softly, “She was so nice! She gave us lollipops!”

“Did she?” James asked, and Harry nodded.

Y/n smiled softly as she joined Remus behind the counter, grabbing some books to stamp while all the kids filed out to find their parents, “Looks like we’ll be back next Saturday.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Y/n replied, “I’ll look forward to it.”

Harry smiled, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

James and Harry walked out of Lupin’s Library together with smiles on their faces. Harry wouldn’t stop jumping with joy the entire day. He couldn’t get over how lovely the lady was and how she gave him a lollipop. Truthfully, it was the little things when it came to kids. Remus chuckled as they left the library together.

“He quite likes you, I’d say.”

“Little kids like anyone who give them candy.”

“I don’t mean the boy.” Remus replied, “I mean the adult who seems quite fond of you.”

Y/n hmphed, “And what about the man who wears the leather jacket and the straight black hair?”

Remus blushed, “‘Oh, Y/n, he’s so perfect.’” Y/n mocked.

“You’re annoying.” Remus nudged her with his elbow.

“Love you too.”

It wasn’t until Wednesday when he came back in again. Y/n had been absent from the shop due to having to help her friend bartend. Despite working at the bookshop full time, she still had a part-time job bartending. If she spent the whole day at the bar, then she spent the entire night at the bookstore. Working two jobs was no easy feat, but she did it.

James walked in and wandered aimlessly after not seeing or hearing her. Remus smiled amusedly as he walked in and continued to read his book. James felt the spines of the books but never plucked one from the shelf. Remus got tired of his lost puppy look and finally called to him.

“She’s not here, you know.”

“Oh,” James muttered, “Where- Where is she?”

Remus placed his book down after bending the corner of the page, “Helping a friend.”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” James replied nervously as he went to walk out the door.

“Wait!” Remus called, and James turned, “I can- um- I can give you her schedule if you want.”

“Schedule?” James questioned, “She doesn’t work here full time?”

Remus shook his head, “No, she works part-time at a bar around the block. It helps-“ He scratched the back of his neck, “It helps pay the bills.”

“You guys don’t make enough to stay in business?”

“No, we don’t.” Remus murmured, “I can't really do much else other than work here, so Y/n took up another job. Which she hates, and it drains her.”

James was appalled. These people were so nice and kind. How weren’t they making enough to stay in business? Remus looked utterly embarrassed by the whole thing, confessing to a customer that they were struggling. James, himself, was a Nephrologists at a hospital not too far away. His family was small, and he made a lot of money.

Without another word, James left the shop leaving Remus in a confused state. He walked to an ATM that was only a couple of blocks away before pulling out a decent amount of cash. James walked back into the bookstore and placed an envelope on the counter. Remus stared at it confused as he got on his own two feet to open it. As he peeled back the seal, he saw what was inside.

“I’m sorry, I can’t-“

“Please.” James begged, “Harry would be devastated if his favorite place went out of business.”

Remus had tears in his eyes as he placed the money beneath the counter, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means. Our parents bought this shop with almost nothing, and we’ve been trying, but it’s so hard.”

“Well,” James began, “I don’t know if I could live with myself if this place was gone, especially after knowing you’re guys’ kindness.”

Remus smiled and grabbed a piece of paper with a calendar on it. At the bottom, he wrote his and Y/n’s names along with their phone numbers. His handwriting was tidy and curvy. Remus handed the piece of paper to him, and James took it gratefully.

“It’s Y/n’s schedule along with her part-time bartending job. Our numbers are at the bottom.” Remus motioned to the calendar and at the numbers on the bottom.

“Thank you, Remus.” James smiled as he pulled out a business card from his wallet, “Obviously, you don’t need me to be your doctor, but my number is on the card if either of you needs anything.”

Remus took the two cards gently, “Thank you, James. We really won’t forget this.”

“I’m glad.” James smiled, “Because I won’t forget you two.”

He left the bookstore with a skip in his step. It felt good to do that. James hadn’t felt this happy since Harry was born, but now he felt like himself again. He felt like that energized boy from middle school who was always destined to be great.

James didn’t know what it was like to be poor. He grew up with his parents being doctors. They made decent money, and James always got what he wanted. They lived with the higher class. It made his heart ache that Remus and Y/n, who were so sweet we’re struggling. He couldn’t take it. He had to do something. It felt good to do that something.

Around the block was a bar called Whiskey Woes. It was old and rugged-looking. The black stone bricks seemed to be cracking in every spot. It made James grimace. Walking inside was even worse. The pungent smell of older men with no taste for cologne made him scrunch his nose. But behind the counter, he saw an exhausted girl who was giving it her all to get tips.

James made his way to sit on a barstool, and sluggishly Y/n made her way to him, “Good afternoon, sir! What can I getcha today?”

“A glass of water?” James replied, lifting his head, and Y/n let out a visible sigh of relief, “‘Course.”

A minute of running around the bar later, a glass of water was placed in front of him, “How’s work, Y/n?”

“How’d you find out my name?”

“Well, your name tag says it.” James pointed, “And I went by the bookstore today.”

Y/n hummed, “Remus tell you where I work, huh?”

“Yeah.” James replied, stirring his water with his straw, “And I want you to quit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to quit working at this shithole.” James repeated, “And take this.”

Another envelope was passed to her across the bar. Y/n eyed him as she broke the glued seal on the white paper. Inside she saw cash, and it didn’t look like just a tiny amount either. Y/n’s face showed visible shock, and James smiled sheepishly.

“Consider it a tip.”

“This is more than a tip.” Y/n chuckled, “This is like three of my yearly salaries.”

James’ smile faltered just a tiny bit, “You don’t belong here. You belong at the bookstore with Remus. You don’t seem happy here, and Remus sees it too. Says you come home exhausted and drained.”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Maybe go on a date with me?”

Y/n blushed, “A date?”

“Yeah, a date.” James muttered.

“I think you deserve a lot more than a date.” Y/n replied, and James smirked, “Only if you’ll let me.”

She laughed, and it made his stomach flutter. It was a sound he wanted to hear forever. It made his heart flip and the corners of his lips quirk. The way she tilted her head back and how her hair flowed as she did so—the crinkle of her nose and the creases of her eyes as she shut them tightly.

She was so perfect.

593 notes · View notes

deerestapologies · 3 years

Text

5 times you called him by a pet name + one time he called you by a pet name

(Diluc + Zhongli x GN!Reader)

Diluc

1. "Oh, hey hon." You greet mildly.

The candles have begun burning a bit low, the long shadows making his pout even more obvious.

"I apologize, I was held up for longer than anticipated."

He produces a small bouquet from his coat, a cluster of wildflowers, and approaches like he's about to give an offering instead of a gift. He kneels by your chair, face stoic as usual, but you can see the worry and shame in his eyes.

You twirl the stems to absorb their delicate scent, and then carefully drop them in your water glass. You cup his face in your hands, and press a kiss to his brow.

"It's okay." You kiss his brow again, "I am not mad." You kiss his nose. "I am hungry though."

You laugh lightly at his rush to sit across from you. An evening eating cold roast was worth being able to spend it with him.

2. "I understand your frustration, but perhaps we had best move on." You place a hand on his crossed arms.

"Their behavior was unacceptable, especially for those who would call themselves knights."

The stubborn clench of his jaw tells you just how angry he is. The idiots were lucky to have only gotten the verbal bludgeoning earlier instead of the literal one he wanted to dish out.

"Yes, but you've already made them apologize, and they do seem repentant," the fool knights in training nod frantically, "so why not leave this mess for Kaeya, darling?"

He sighs, but loosens his posture to wrap a protective arm around you. The hell the Knights were going to catch for this was still to come, but at least no one lost any limbs. Yet.

3. Tucked into your pile of pillows, book in hand, you waited as you do most nights. Diluc had a late meeting scheduled after dinner, but he promised it was truly to do with the winery and not of the vigilante variety.

So you bide your time, until you hear his heavy boots come up the stairs.

"I'm home." He calls softly.

"Welcome back." You say just as softly.

He goes through the motions of undressing, refreshing himself, and redressing without missing a beat, but his posture seems wilted. You mark your page, and turn over the blanket for him.

"How did it go?"

He heaves a deep sigh, and crawls over to you. Pulling you close, he lays his head on your chest but doesn't say another word.

"Oh, sweetness." You embrace him, one hand holding his face and the other in his hair. "It's okay. I've got you."

4. You lengthen your steps, but the increased pace doesn't seem to deter the boy following you. He isn't dangerous per se, but his persistence is damned annoying.

"But, if you'll just listen," he jogs back up to your side, "I just need your help for a little while!"

"I am neither a Knight nor an Adventurer," you cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, "And you have nothing I want. Now leave me be."

He sputters, "M-master Diluc said-"

As if he's had his tongue plucked out, he suddenly stops talking.

You turn around only to find Diluc himself, a stifling hand on the kid's shoulder. His face is a stoic mask as always, but his energy is thunderous.

"I agreed to help you out of deference to your mother, but you," You see the boy wince as the hand tightens, "failed to listen to a word I said. Harassing my staff and my partner has only earned you banishment from all of my properties. Now go, before I report you to the Knights as well."

You both stand stock still as the boy sprints from the winery back to Mondstadt proper.

"Your going to report him anyways, right?" You mumble, after he is just a speck on the horizon.

"Of course," He finally relaxes his stance to look at you, "Though I doubt Jean will be happy about it."

Your chuckle, already imagining her face when the letter reaches her desk. Heaving a sigh, just grateful for the problem to have moved on, you grab Diluc's hand.

"Thank you," You pull him into a tight hug, "for protecting me as always, angel."

5. You gently rap on the door frame to his office. He looks up from his work just long enough to give you a soft smile.

"I was wondering," You lean against the frame, avoiding actually entering lest you get sucked in as well, "If my dear husband was going to come to bed tonight?"

The bright lamp on his desk means you see his blush even from across the room. He huffs an embarrassed laugh, but starts shuffling paperwork into orderly piles.

"I hadn't realized the time, my apologies."

You hum, "It is understandable. But I cannot rest if you are not in bed with me."

You watch as he tucks away his tools, pulls his gloves off, and undoes the tie in his hair, all with a much to pleased smirk on his face.

He pulls you into a delicate, lingering kiss with a hand on your neck. The warmth of his skin makes you shiver. You lean into him, letting him wrap you in his arms.

He chuckles, "Well, I would hate to neglect my husbandly duties."

1. The lingering warmth from your bath and the softness of the sheets has you dozing in minutes. You toss a hand onto Diluc's side of the bed, wanting to be present when he comes to bed as well but the ache of a long day is catching up to you.

After several moments you feel a calloused hand grasp your own. You are too tired to properly see, but feel the dip as he climbs into bed.

Still holding your hand in a delicate grip, he presses a kiss to your palm, and then your cheek.

"Sleep, my love, I am here."

Zhongli

1. Zhongli re-enters the house not even ten minutes after leaving. He is patting down his jacket and looking about the entryway in wonder, and you can't help but chuckle.

"Forget something?"

"Yes," he plants his hands on his hips, "I can't seem to find my wallet. I could have sworn I remembered it this time."

You get up from where you were leisurely awaiting his return, and snag the 'disappearing' wallet from where he left it on the table.

"Not quite, old man." You wave it, teasing.

"Ah, of course."

Tucking it into the pocket of his jacket, you tug him closer to plant a kiss on his flushed cheek.

"My apologies, it seems I was a bit distracted this morning."

He tucks a piece of hair away from your face, gaze so blatantly loving you can't help but crash your lips against his. Damn whatever appointment he may have, he shouldn't be so handsome in your direction.

2. It is not every day you wake up before him, so you try to make the most of it. You prepare his clothes for the day, just so you can pick out your favorite of his shirts. You start a light breakfast, and brew an energizing blend of tea for both of your sake.

You spend some time simply waiting at the table, content to sip your tea and watch the morning birds.

When the soft shuffle of feet brings Zhongli into the kitchen, you stand up. He is mostly dressed, minus his tie and shoes, jacket loose around his shoulders.

You steer him to the table, and press a kiss to his cheek when seated.

He hums contentedly, still a bit sleepy, "Good morning."

You pour him a cup of tea as well, and his smile grows a bit wider. He tilts his head up, "Thank you."

You meet him half way, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth, "Of course dearest. Do you have anything pressing today?"

A hand comes to rest on your hip, preventing you from moving back to your seat.

"No, nothing more important than this."

3. Squished between the mattress and the press of his body, you couldn't imagine being more content. The warmth, the scent, the feel of his breath ghosting across your skin.

You run a reverent hand through his hair, spread loose over his back. It seems impossible for you to be this happy, like you would only read about in unrealistic fantasies.

Amber eyes are already watching you, when you open yours. His gaze is soft, unbearably so, so you look at the ceiling.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He answers it so easily, as if it is among the many universal truths that exist in his head.

"You must understand," You wet your nervous mouth, "I mean it. Truly, I love you."

You feel his head tilt in confusion, but power on, emotions spilling.

"You are my starlight. My life would be unimaginably dark without you. I am scared constantly by the sway you have over me, but I cannot stand the idea of living without you. I want be here with you, forever, no matter the cost."

You squeeze your eyes shut against the flood of tears that threaten to spill, waiting for his polite retreat. His body lifts off yours and you pull a shuddering breath in, unused to laying yourself bare in this way. He could end you now, destroy you by just walking away.

But you feel tremoring hands grasp your face, almost too tightly. He doesn't say a word, can't, but presses his forehead to yours.

4. "Zhongli?" You call into the empty hum of the parlor, hoping it will carry to his office. It's not far, but he gets absorbed in his work easily.

You lean out the door a bit, and try to project your voice more, "Hey, honey?"

The door to his office clicks open, and his head pokes out. "Do you need assistance?"

"Yes, please," you adjust the pile of books in your arms, "Would you mind grabbing this other pile? A client requested reference material from just about every era, and I don't think I have the wing span to carry all of it."

He presses a quick kiss to your head, and scoops up the remaining books with no problem.

"Of course, would you like me to relieve you of those as well?"

"Not a chance, show off, you're gonna have to deal with the doors."

As if to prove your point, he balances the stack in one hand to hold the front door open for you, smile only slightly smug.

5. Given how busy your lives were, and his propensity for letting time fly, you figured he would forget again. It would not be the first anniversary he forgot, and you imagine it wouldn't be the last.

It's not like you could hold it against him, especially not when he was so earnest and loving all year round.

So your surprise was genuine when he led you, dressed in his best, to a private booth at Liuli Pavilion.

The food was made by the head chef, as a show of gratitude for Zhongli's long patronage (you send a quiet thank you to Childe), and the service superb. The evening is relatively quiet, you converse as normal but with the additional soppiness that comes from acknowledging romance.

You are especially glad for the privacy when you cannot help but practically ravish the man over the table, his face being too handsome to bear just looking at.

Shortly after, he looks at you with burning eyes, and finally says, "I am quite full. Perhaps we should head home."

"That sounds perfect."

You continue to stare, sappy and sated, as he blindly pats at his pockets, equally unwilling to look away.

After several moments, it dawns on you, and then immediately on him.

You can't help it. You laugh. Hysterically, because no matter what Zhongli is Zhongli.

He's standing now, flustered like you've never seen, pacing the room as if his wallet would be anywhere but the table at home.

"This was not my intent." He huffs, "I had planned the evening meticulously."

"And it was lovely," You choke back another laugh, "But, sugar, you are not living this down for the rest of our lives!"

You are laughing as you pull out your own wallet, giggling uncontrollably as you hand over all the money on your person, and can barely walk you're so light headed when he leads you out the door.

He doesn't once let you go, from the pavilion's steps to your front door. Indulgent to the end, your man.

1. It is always a pleasant surprise when your errands overlap. Working nearly in conjunction makes it happen quite often, but still, it makes your day brighter.

You have just finishing bartering your lunch into existence when you spot Zhongli headed your way. Quickly, you slip the chef a few more mora to add another dish.

He is at your side in an instant, bringing your hand to his lips in that coquettish way he has.

"There you are," he lowers your hand but does not drop it, "I've been looking for you, treasure."

You twine your fingers together, relishing the warmth. You snug up to his side, taking the liberty of placing his hand on your hip just to see him blush.

"Have you now?"

"Always."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin zhongli #(the chef after zhongli +1: excuse me this is a wendys)#an informal apology

220 notes · View notes

thetaoofzoe · 4 years

Text

Fic: A Wild Woman 1/1

Title: A Wild Woman

Summary: By Victorian Standards, you are considered the dreaded Wild Woman! Your aunt and uncle threaten to disown you and turn you out into the streets unless you agree to a little re-education on how to be a proper lady.

Rating: Mature, fluff, Soft Dom Sherlock!Henry, sex, unconventional

Pairing: Sherlock x YOU

Note: This was inspired by "A wild woman brought up a wild child. We'll make her acceptable for society." from the EH trailer.

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Your Aunt and Uncle had had enough of you. They were fed up with your lack of female decorum and your absolute insistence to star gaze, associate with male aeronauts and start fires from chemistry experiments gone awry. But you couldn't help yourself. After the scandal of the woman who attempted to join the Chemistry Society a few years back, you had been forever changed. Women could do anything and you were intent on grabbing that elusive gold ring. If that meant attending boisterous underground resistance meetings, or not wearing your corset, then so be it.

Unfortunately, your family did not see it that way. To them, you were a wild woman who had no place in decent Victorian society.

One gloomy autumn evening, when your uncle returned from the gentleman's club, he sat both you and your aunt down at the dining room table for a talk.

Your uncle then gave you a choice.

Well, it was a choice between scylla and charybdis, but a choice nonetheless.

You were either to be turned out into the street to fend for yourself, with no money and no prospects and definitely no husband, or you were to travel to London to be kept, re-educated and made acceptable to be returned to society by a pair of reputable brothers who promised to produce reputable ladies.

What could you do, but agree to the latter, as the former was a nightmare you never wanted to experience.

So you made the long involuntary train-trek cross country to London.

The man who met you at the train station was tall, and slim with a well-manicured moustache that curled up at the ends in the most fashionable way. When he reached for your single suitcase and turned to walk away, you followed without protest.

Baker Street was a short narrow avenue that seemed unnecessarily busy for so early in the morning, and when the Hansom slowed, your companion opened the door and hopped out. He offered his gloved hand, which you took and followed him to the ground.

The cab rode off and gently taking you by the arm, the man guided you across the road. He walked up the steps to a dark painted door with the numbers 221b etched on a half-moon of glass above it. He led you inside and up the stairs to a room at the end of a long corridor.

It was a well-appointed room. Against the wall was a large bed with a patchwork cover flanked by two low dark wood tables upon which sat twin lamps with beaded green lampshades. To the left, a tall window brought in the hazy morning light and illuminating the small writing desk beneath it. There was also a large wardrobe stood in one corner opposite a bookshelf which was crammed with books.

'Your room, for the duration of your stay. I expect that it will be maintained without clutter.'

He then looked at you and slowly perused your form. You felt scandalised! No man had ever dared make his inspection of your body so plain before. Scandalised, yes, but a slow simmer of heat in your belly belied your inner outrage.

He humphed, and his eyes moved to meet yours again.

'Sloppy,' he said. 'That you expect to be taken seriously, dressed like this is insulting.'

You opened your mouth and he lifted his brows, waiting for you to speak.

'I expect, sir, for you to watch your tongue when addressing me.'

He laughed quietly.

'My brother will be home shortly,' he said ignoring your protest. 'I believe you will be spending the evening in his company. Granted, he is less strict than I am, so don't get used to his...'

The man pinwheeled his hand in the air as if searching for the most appropriate word, but the opening and then the closing of the front door distracted him.

'Ah,' he murmured. 'He's come home early. Please wash thoroughly and change your clothes. I expect that you have something better than this?'

You narrowed your eyes.

'I will give you one hour and then come downstairs and into the study for inspection. The study is to the right at the bottom of the stairs. Have you... questions?'

'Do you intend to stand here and watch me wash and dress?'

He smiled and wordlessly turned to leave you to your task.

'We'll break you of that attitude,' he promised and closed the door behind him.

You wavered on your feet and collapsed on the fainting couch at the foot of the bed. You were breathless, excited, astounded that you were aroused by the man's quiet dominance.

'This is ridiculous girl!' you chided yourself aloud. 'This whole thing is ridiculous.'

But at least you were in London. You had promised your aunt and uncle that you would be 're-educated' and that you were going to come home the niece they always wanted so that you could be married off to the local farmer's son. What they didn't know, was that you were going to use the little stipend they'd provided and run away into the arms of the big city.

In the meantime, this was what you needed to do to get to where you needed to go.

You got up, stripped out of your travel clothes and inspected the pitcher and basin on the wash stand in the corner. There was water in the pitcher and a clean cloth hanging on the railing. There was also a lump of lanolin soap sitting on the side of the basin and you went about washing the dirt from your travels off of your skin. You didn't bother with a corset, or your stockings. You merely shrugged into your chemise, dress and shoes and went down to the study.

You stood at the closed door, humming with excitement and terror. What if this brother was a hunchback, with a mutilated face and was only gentle because his looks terrified everyone. What if he was old and decrepit and smelled of liniment! You wrinkled your nose at the thought and opened the door.

The study was beautiful, quiet and a fire burned in the small hearth. The walls were covered with dark tapestries and old maps. Books and newspapers were stacked everywhere, but it did not appear to be done in a chaotic manner. There was an order to this room and your heart clenched when your eyes fell on the man who was rising from the high wing-backed chair.

If Gods walked the earth, on a regular basis, you would not have been surprised by his appearance. He too was tall, like his brother, broad across the chest with a narrow waist and sturdy thighs. He was in his shirtsleeves with a high starched white collar and dark brown tweed waistcoat and matching dress trousers.

And the curls. Oh the soft mass of chocolatey brown curls were stylish and clipped short and nicely complimented his handsome chiselled face.

'Turn around, please,' he said, his voice all honey and milk and you obeyed immediately.

'Face me again.'

You did so and he approached, hands clasped behind his back. He shook his head.

'You know this is unacceptable, don't you.'

It wasn't a question.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, you thought. You had practised on the long train ride to London. You knew exactly how you were going to respond and exactly what you were going to say. But your mind had gone blank and only silence came out of your sweet quivering mouth.

You lowered your gaze.

His dark shoes were buttoned neatly and had been shined carefully. He was obviously a man who cared about his appearance.

'I expect things from you, when you're under my roof. This shabbiness and unruly nature will not be permitted and if you continue to pursue these avenues, you will be...'

He trailed off, and began to walk in a slow circle around you, prowling, like a sleek beast and you couldn't help feeling helpless.

Like you were prey.

He stopped after one revolution and stood at your back. He was so close that the heat and scent of him engulfed you. You closed your eyes, and sweat broke out across your upper lip and brow.

He 'humphed', sounding just like his brother and stuck a finger against your side. You didn't dare squirm away from his examination and you held yourself taut.

'No corset,' he said, finding you soft and unrestrained beneath your clothes. 'And I wager, no stockings or combinations.'

You were silent and it seemed that the very silence was a living creature, pricking your skin.

'Answer me.'

'No, none of that.'

He took in a long breath and let it out slowly.

'Upstairs, now. Gather your undergarments and bring them here.'

You turned so fast that you nearly banged into him. But you managed to scurry round him, and dart up the stairs as fast as your legs beneath your full skirts would carry you. You blindly grabbed everything that you had and nearly tumbled back down the stairs in your haste to please this man, this stranger, who within moments of meeting him made you want to drop to your knees and worship his masculinity.

He was still standing in the same place where you left him, back straight, head up, elegant hands clasped behind his back.

Out of breath, you stood before him, arms full of undergarments and he smiled. That smile took your breath away. He directed you to dump your clothes on the nearby desk.

'Now,' he began, scholarly. 'The makings of a society appropriate lady, begins at her skin. Do you understand?'

You swallowed hard and nodded.

'Good. Now, remove your clothing. We have to start from the skin.'

There was heat in his voice, filled with a demand that brooked no argument, and with trembling hands, you unbuttoned your waistcoat, unpinned your skirt and shrugged out of your rough collared shirt until you stood there bare beneath your chemise.

You worked your hands together in front of you feeling damp between your legs and ready to show him everything that was private about you.You unlaced the chemise at the collar and let it fall.

He looked at you for a long time, appreciating you, drinking you in and he was very obviously pleased with you.

He pointed to the combinations lying in a heap on the desk.

'Combinations.'

Your combinations were in two pieces so you stepped into the split bottoms and pulled on the top.

'Now corset.'

You went back to the table. You had two corsets, and you looked to him for his opinion.

'Blue,' he said. 'It laces in the back.'

Normally, as you dressed yourself, your corsets (when you wore them) laced in the front. But this one, he chose purposefully. He wanted to have control over dressing you.

The blue one was already partially laced so all you had to do was pull it over your head and hold it in place. You turned your back to him and waited. He began to slowly tighten your laces, starting from the top and working his way down, one after the other after the other he pulled the narrow fabric through the eyelets closing the boned corset around you, trussing you like a tart and stealing your breath.

The corset was tight, but not overly so, just enough to make you realise that you liked it. He tied the remainder of the cord round your waist and tucked in the excess.

'Will you take it off me when it's time?' you breathed, lightheaded with arousal.

And he hummed a soft response.

Then followed your simple cream and blue coloured dress, which you stepped into with his help. It buttoned up the back and he took his time doing so.

After what seemed an eternity, he stepped away from you and mourning the loss of his heat, you watched him walk to the chair, turn and sit down.

'Come here, and bring your stockings and ribbon.'

Like a puppy, you followed and stood at his knee.

He took the stockings and thin blue ribbons and laid them across his lap.

'Right foot,' he murmured and patted the spot on his thigh where he wanted you to put it. 'Balance yourself on the chair if needed.'

You put a hand on the top of the wing back and sighed softly when he rolled up the first stocking and slid it on your foot and up your leg. You bit your lip, but you couldn't look away from the deft fingers that trailed fire along your skin. He tied the ribbon just below your knee and folded the top of the stocking over it.

'Left.'

You switched legs and he repeated the process, only this time after he had tied the ribbon and folded the stocking down, he held your calf with both hands and looked up at you.

'Now you are finished. Is there anything that I did that you did not understand?'

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to come out as anything but a squeak. He nodded to acknowledge your answer, paused, and then slid one hand up your calf, to your thigh and over the material of your combinations to where they split to reveal your tender sex. He lightly brushed his fingertips over your naked mound and you made a noise that was quite unbecoming of a society lady. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you did the only thing you ever wanted to do the moment you laid eyes on him; you widened your legs.

'I prefer an unruly woman,' he said, sliding one finger into your slick wet cunt. 'I think they have spirit.'

Whining, you grabbed onto the other side of the chair and leaned on it for support. He stroked your clit slowly, carefully, pushing back the swollen little hood and pinched it between his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut and stars burst against the darkness. You were going to scream if he continued.

'Please,' you whispered, jerking your hips forward, encouraging his further exploration. 'Please... just please!'

He slid his fingers out of you and with his eyes still on your, he put those same fingers into his mouth.

A cry of frustration escaped you. You hiked your skirts and climbed onto his lap, giving him just enough room to unbutton the opening of his trousers and draw out his leaking cock. You took him in hand and he grabbed your hips and pressed back into the chair as you positioned yourself enough to sink slowly down onto him.

You leaned back into his hands, tipping your chin up and moaning loudly, voluptuously, clenching tightly around him, circling your hips to feel all of him filling you completely. He groaned quietly, much more subdued, but no less aroused and he looked up just as you looked down at him. You grabbed his exquisite face between your hands and kissed him, lapping eagerly into his delectable mouth, letting your body rise and fall as your cunt greedily devoured him.

You pushed your fingers into his soft curls, and held his head up, kissing and biting at his plush lips, riding him slowly at first, and then faster as the crescendo of desire and lust and pleasure crested then exploded inside you. Every part of you clamped down hard on him and you rocked and back and forth, milking the shuddering orgasm out of him.

It took a moment before the two of you finally relaxed from your shared high. Still holding his face, you kissed his cheeks and his forehead and his lips over and over until his softening cock slipped out of you. You sat back on his thighs and imagined his cum leaking out of you and onto your combinations. You giggled at the dirty thought.

'I'm Sherlock,' he said after a long silence, looking up to meet your gaze.

'I'm... smitten,' you answered.

Maybe a little re-education wasn't such a bad thing.

-End

I hope you enjoyed it. Please like, share comment reblog all that good stuff. :)

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #sherlock!Henry #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you

1K notes · View notes

callsign-magnolia · 10 months

Text

Undiagnosed // Ch. 1

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Word Count:

Masterlist

“I’m sorry, Admiral Blair. Commander Kazansky is dead.”

Commander Kazansky is dead.

Tears welled my eyes as I stood in the doorway, my father behind me. “What?” My dad stepped around me, pushing me back into the house. I walked into the living room, seeing my mother sitting in her chair, glasses on her nose and book in her hand. “Who in god’s name is at our door at nine o’clock at night?” She asked, not looking up. “A-an officer-“ She huffed, slamming her book shut before she ripped her glasses off her face and looked at me. “Speak up. I can’t hear you when you mumble and stutter.” I nodded, taking a deep breath and trying again. “An officer is at the door. Admiral Kazansky is dead.” I said as I rested my hand on the back of the couch. She stared at me for a moment before scoffing and putting her glasses back on. “Held on long enough, didn’t he?” “Mother!” I scolded. She huffed, slamming her book on the side table, standing. “Hush!” I immediately went quiet as she approached me. “He has been sick for years now. Your father has been waiting in the wings for his moment! And this is his moment!” She yelled, pointing her finger in my face.

“And you will not ruin his image!” I nodded, not meeting her eyes as tears streaked my cheeks. “Admiral Kazansky passed away in his sleep earlier.” My father said as he walked into the living room. “And you’re crying for him!” Mom said, smacking my arm, making me jump. “He was a good man, mama!” She rolled her eyes, going back to her chair. “A man you met only three times.” I bit my lip, taking in a shaky breath. “I will be going up to my room.” I said turning, only for my dad to stop me. “Dr. Nieman says you have an exam next week; I expect you to be studying.” I nodded as he squeezed my shoulder. “Yes sir.” I said before he let me go, walking past me and allowing me to go upstairs. Once in my room I shut the door, taking a deep breath before going over to my fish tank, pulling out some food to feed them. They rushed to the top as I dropped the food, making me giggle. “Greedy little guys, huh?” I asked, knowing they wouldn’t reply. “Georgie!” I scolded the guppy who pushed Simon out of the way. “Oh my god, I’m scolding my fish.” I sighed before sitting down at my desk, deciding I better crack open the law textbook before my father came in and yelled at me for not working hard enough.

A few days went by and finally it was the day of Iceman’s funeral. I rode with my parents to the funeral, sitting in the backseat quietly as we rode from the funeral home to the gravesite. Once we pulled up and got out, I looked around at the sea of black dress uniforms, straightening out my own black dress as I stepped out of the truck. “Now,” My mom said as she walked over. “Stand still and be quiet, I don’t want to hear and squall from you.” I nodded as she took my dad’s arm. “Yes ma’am.” I fell in step behind them, walking slowly through the grass and between the graves before finally stopping. My parents would sit, while I stood behind them, my heels sinking into the soft ground. We watched as the casket was carried over, and the funeral started. I was fine until TAPS started; it always made me emotional at these things. But I stood there, stock still but I felt the tears coming, and with them, the fear of my mother.

~~~

“Hi.” I jumped, startled out of my own little bubble by the voice behind me. I turned to find a blonde man, tall, muscular, with green eyes that glistened in the light and had tiny flecks of light brown around the pupil. “H-hi.” I said, realizing how close he was when I turned around. I took a step back, bumping the table and tripping over my feet. I swung my arm, and he caught it, straightening me out. “I am so sorry! I’m so clumsy!” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not at all.” I smiled, looking back into his eyes. “I’m sorry Lieutenant, I never got your name.” A look of realization crossed his face, and he held out his hand. “Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, ma’am.” I shook his hand. “You seemed off in your own little world over here.” He caught you, and now he thinks you’re weird before he even properly met you. “Yeah, I um… truth be told, I just got lost in thought.” I admitted. My mind had wandered to how Sarah and the rest of the family would cope without Admiral Kazansky, a thought I probably had no business thinking about. “Happens to the best of us, right?” I nodded, looking down at my heels. “So how do you know the Kazansky’s?” He asked, bending down to meet my eyes, making my head snap up. “Oh, my dad is-was just under Admiral Kazansky. Now that he’s gone, that makes my dad the new fleet commander.” His eyebrows shot up in realization. “Katie Scarlett!” I froze at my mom’s voice, straightening my back and diverting my eyes from Jacob. “I’m so sorry Lieutenant. Was she bothering you? She tends to run her mouth and talk. Why, she would talk till your ears fell off if you let her.” My neck burned red against my black scoop neck dress, tears gathering in my eyes.

Your eyes are too far apart.

Your bottom lip is too big, it makes your smile look weird.

You’re too tall in those heels.

Your thighs are too big.

Taglist: @wkndwlff @alltimereverie @cherrycola27 @daisydaisygoose @rosiahills22 @deanoheartspie @cornishkat @high-speed-r @fogle97 @mygyn @ohgodnotagainn @emma8895eb @senjoritanana @kmc1989 @sandaltoesocks @mayhemmanaged @dempy @itsdesiree86 @callsign-athena @jstarr86 @brooke-stinson @rachkon @topguncultleader @bethbunnyy @topgun-imagines @clancycucumber230 @seitmai @kkrenae @djs8891 @shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @eugene-emt-roe @hisredheadedgoddess28 @littlewhiterose @formulapierre @wade-wilsons-chew-toy @bethabear12 @halstead-severide-fan @gg-trini @memeorydotcom

#undiagnosed #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman seresin #hangman #top gun maverick hangman #top gun maverick

11 notes · View notes

dear-mrs-otome · 3 years

Text

Gute Besserung - IkeVamp (Faust)

'Tis a silly ficlet that's being rattling around in my head ever since that PV came out...and I'm a sucker for 'taking care of the sick'. 1500 words of Faust self-indulgence. Thank you to @mikotomizuki and @ambrosiallkiss for letting me scream about this!

She woke slowly. Swimming up through thick sleep that clung to her limbs and consciousness enviously, as if loathe to surrender her. Eyes too heavy to open still as she took stock - of the odd weight of her body, of what she could only imagine was the warmth of sunlight basking one half of her face, of the dry rhythmic scratch of nib on paper somewhere nearby.

Faust.

She knew without even needing to see for herself, recognized that omnipresent sound. Only he ever wrote thus, in a frantic scathing scribble, as if his thoughts were always tumbling faster than his hand. As if he were always racing time, trying to outpace something.

Ironic, given how much of it he had, she supposed.

Her own thoughts were sluggish, too-warm and chasing themselves in nonsensical circles, like withered leaves in the last heated gasps of an autumn wind. Her mouth dry with that patina so particular to a long convalescence.

She managed to crack her eyes open just as the writing stopped. Greeted by arched ceilings, stonework and heavy wooden paneling, walls lined with shelves that groaned beneath the weight of countless books. The faint astringent waft of chemicals framing a sharp counterpoint to the softness of the featherbed she reclined on. She needed no more than a passing glance to realize she was in Faust’s room...but why?

The ensuing silence was only broken by the slight tick of Faust’s glasses on the desk as she watched him set them aside, one hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose and over his eyes before raking through his hair, mussing the midnight strands with a sigh. His usual jacket had been cast off somewhere, leaving him in naught but rolled up shirtsleeves, looking altogether far more rumpled than she had ever seen. His broad shoulders bent as if beneath some burden, and in her daze she wondered what sort of weight could ever possibly bow his Atlas frame.

Her lips were parched as she sought her voice, finding only the barest ghost of it. “Faust?”

He jerked, snapping to attention, blinking owlishly in her direction for a moment before snatching up his glasses. They settled back on his face at the same moment his customary smile settled on his lips. Sardonically charming, effortlessly wicked.

She’d often thought the Serpent must have smiled at Eve much like that, from amongst the verdant fig leaves. More the fool she was then she knew, for recognizing it as such and still letting herself be seduced.

"Still among the living, then?" It was delivered in his usual droll style, the hint of a laugh always threatening to break through it seemed, as if ever ready to have a joke at her expense...but there was something taut about the inscrutable gaze he leveled at her. A wariness, almost. That of a breath long held, not yet released.

She sighed her indignance as best she could, offering him a kitten-weak glare even as an answering smile tried to tug at her lips. "Feel too terrible to be dead."

He hummed his assent, the sound rippling into a chuckle as he scooted his chair closer beside the bed, reaching for a pitcher and glass upon the nearby table and pouring a small measure out. Swift deft movements helped her to sit up against the pile of pillows and held the cup to her lips, letting her have her fill of water.

“What happened?” she managed, when her tongue no longer felt bone-dry and cleaved to the roof of her mouth.

“You fainted dead away in the midst of the soup course, four days ago. I was unaware that you found broccoli so repugnant.”

“Hah,” she huffed, and he seemed to relent.

“It would appear you came down with an illness of some sort. You’ve had a fever, some delirium, these past three nights. Influenza, or scarlet fever perhaps, though I see no sign of you presenting with a rash…” He trailed off, speculation creasing his brows as he lay a hand on her forehead, gauging her temperature. "The fever only broke this morning."

She sifted through the shards of memories his words unearthed, trying to puzzle them back into something whole. Snatches of long hot spells, of strange dreams and visions and feeling utterly wrung-out. A voice speaking often, low and sonorous, syllables broad with the brunt of German. And amidst all that, blissfully cool touches much like the fingers still settled on her brow.

She didn’t even realize she had been nuzzling into the reprieve of them until she felt them lingering on her cheek, their slight chill a welcome comfort - pausing just a heartbeat past propriety before withdrawing, pulled back so that his fingers could twitch into a tight knot on his lap.

“You've been here the entire time?” She framed it as a question, but they both knew it wasn't.

It was an attempt to avoid, perhaps, that had him turn towards the notes on his desk and shuffle them. “Was I to pass up an opportunity to observe the course of an illness up close? To see how a modern constitution fares against diseases of the past? A vampire’s physiology requires little in the way of rest.”

A wry smile did manage to find its way onto her lips them. “You could have just said yes.”

Faust sniffed. “It was either that or leave you to that jackleg Charles, and that was not going to happen. You needed proper medicating. I administered antipyretics first, though they seem only to have taken the edge off your fever. Phenazone, then phenacetin -"

He had taken on an all too-familiar tone, and she attempted to head him off before he got lost in his suppositions. "Faust."

"Although again with little effect. I thought perhaps simply an analgesic would at least allow you rest but opioids are for hacks. Not to mention that a soporific was the last thing you needed, given our attempts at getting you to -"

"Faust."

He rolled on over the top of her interruptions, almost rambling...but this was no mere animated lecture. It was the first time she'd ever seen him anything other than poised, and her attention came to rest once more on the dark circles carved beneath his eyes, those self-imposed bruises poorly masked by the disheveled tangle of his hair. "-regain sense enough to drink. Dehydration was certainly a concern, and your -"

She reached a hand out from beneath the covers and set it carefully on his knee. "Johann."

The muscles of his leg beneath her fingertips flinched, then seized, his words dying in a slight intake of breath. She saw him swallow thickly before he continued.

“You called for your mother. Crying like a lost child.”

His abrupt bald statement startled her, both the unexpectedness of it and the morose implication. Wondering just how closely she had flirted with death after all.

“You called out for me as well. In the throes of your fever.” He spoke to the grip she still had on his knee at first, before his stare shifted to pin her. A hoarseness running through his words, faint but unmistakable. One lone snagged thread in the dark-silk weft of his voice. “And there was nothing I -”

His jaw clenched down on the rest of that sentence and the silence drew taut, like a bowstring poised to devastate.

She didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t know what to do with the green gaze that searched hers, questions sparking through it like sunlight off jade. And so she sidestepped it, let the elephant in the room settle into safe, uneasy repose.

“Thank you,” she told him at last, earnest in her gratitude. “I know I couldn’t have been in better hands.”

The ghost of his usual confidence haunted the lopsided smile he offered her. “You’re welcome.” He adjusted the blankets around her once more, hesitating the barest of moments before taking her hand in his and cradling it in his lap, fingertips pressed to her wrist. “Your pulse seems to be stable.”

But he didn’t relinquish it, long after she knew he must have counted out the heartbeats necessary...and she let the languid sweep of his thumb along her skin lull her back towards the exhaustion that welcomed her with open arms. “You’ll put me to sleep doing that,” she mumbled on a smile, eyes already closed.

“Rest then. You need it still.” His own words were no more than a low murmur now, almost more felt than heard. A soothing rumble that traipsed up her arm and seemed to make itself at home inside her chest. “Schlaf gut.”

And she wondered if she was asleep already, perhaps dreaming, when she felt the careful press of lips against the fingers curled around his - as if to seal that sentiment in place.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp faust #my writing #ahhdkslfj what is writing even anymore #sobbing

165 notes · View notes

reidsconverse · 3 years

Text

bookstore • spencer reid

Spencer x Reader

Warnings: None

Based off of this request: reid,, falling in love w the reader bcos he sees them constantly in a bookstore reading his favourite fiction author (perhaps,,, stephen king,,,?) but he’s too shy to talk to them

It all started when his usual used bookstore closed for renovations, which was slightly more than an inconvenience seeing as the second closest used book store was a 30 minute drive away. He’d finished work early one day and decided it was time to stock up on some books to last him a week.

He got to the store about an hour before closing, just enough time to browse the shelves and see what this place had to offer, on the outside it looked bigger than his usual store which he thought could be a good thing considering his ability to fly through books at such a fast pace.

A small bell rang as he entered the store, the door that was slightly stiff with age closing behind him, there was one person at the desk who he assumed was the owner, they shared a quick smile as an acknowledgment of the presence of each other before returning back their original tasks. Spencer set out to find a copy of IT by Stephen King, Garcia had made them watch the movie at their last BAU movie night and it had sparked his intrigue to reread the novel.

The store wasn’t difficult to navigate and he easily found his way to where the book should have been, except it wasn’t there. He had called ahead earlier to confirm they had it to avoid a wasted trip. He quickly turned the corner to go and ask the person at the desk what had happened to the copy when he saw her.

Now truthfully, Spencer didn’t think he believed in love at first sight... until he saw her. Tucked away in the corner, wearing a beautiful yellow dress paired with a pair of yellow converse, she looked ethereal and Spencer almost forgot where he was and what he was doing. But then he saw it, no literally IT...the book he needed sitting in her lap and currently the owner of her attention.

Just as he was about to approach her to question her about the book, he saw her check her phone and sigh before getting up to put the book away. Spencer couldn’t help but watch her as she collected her things and prepared to leave, he wanted so desperately to stop her, ask her her name or even about the book. He just stood there frozen, pretending to look at the shelf of books.

“Are you lost?” He heard a small voice pipe up shaking him out of his trance, quickly turning around to see you looking up at him with wide eyes. “I know this store pretty well, I could help you find what you’re looking for.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before clearing his throat, “Uh no I’m ok thank you.” He regretted it the minute he said it, here you were offering to help him, to spend time with him and he had said no.

“Oh, ok, I hope you find what you’re looking for then!” The girl said, giving Spencer a wide grin. “This store has an amazing collection of works, I’ve been coming here for years although I never buy anything, I prefer to sit here and…,” She paused when she saw Spencer staring at her, she grinned sheepishly and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, "and I’m rambling I’m so sorry.”

“I-its fine, it's nice to see I’m not the only one who appreciates the vibe of bookstores, and I’m the worst when it comes to rambling I could talk for hours, my friends hate it when I start to go off on a tangent…” Now it was his turn to grin sheepishly, “as I’m doing right now.” He finished.

The girl giggled and looked up at him before saying, “You’re cute,” Her face quickly matching his in flushing red when she realised what she had said, “oh my god I’m so sorry I didn't mean to say that out loud.”

Spencer thought he’d died and gone to heaven. "No it's fine, thank you." He hated how awkward he was, why couldn't he be more like Derek with his smooth pick up lines and charms, maybe if he was less him he might've had the courage to continue the conversation and get her number, but no all he did was smile at her .

"I'm Y/N." She said, holding her hand out for him to shake.

He quickly looked down at her hand and before he could stop himself he blurted out, "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." He saw her purse her lips in confusion before retracting her hand and he immediately felt awful, "I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm Spencer."

She smiled at him gently and nodded, "It's ok...It was nice to meet you, Spencer... I uh, I have to go but I hope I see you around here again." She gave him a quick wave before walking over to the front desk, smiling brightly.

“I’m almost done with the book Laurel, it's incredible. Stephen King is so talented.” He heard her say.

“Oh y/n, I didn’t tell you, someone called ahead and placed a hold on the book.” Laurel, who Spencer presumed was the guy at the desk, told the girl with a sad smile.

Spencer felt his heart physically hurt at the smile dropping from the girl's face, a small adorable pout forming on her face and she let out a small, “Oh…that's a shame, hopefully, you get another copy soon. I'll see you next week!”

He heard her bid goodbye to Laurel followed by the bell ringing out through the store, indicating she had left. He quickly walked over to pick out the book he had come for, however, his intentions had changed in the short period of time he'd been in the store. He took out his pen and began to write on the title page, something he would never normally do but he had to see her again and this seemed to be the only way.

He took the book to the front desk informing Laurel he had been the one to call ahead and put it on hold, before paying for it. He looked up at Laurel and said "Actually, could you keep that safe and give it to the girl that was in here before...her name was Y/N. I overheard her saying that she was almost done and I've read it more than enough times."

Laurel smiled at the awkward man standing in front of him and nodded, "Of course, she'll be so pleased, she's been coming in once a week to read it and it would've been such a shame if she couldn't finish. You're so kind for doing this, I know she'll appreciate it."

Spencer smiled before glancing down at his watch, taking in the time and knowing he had to leave now in order to avoid the traffic back, he quickly bid farewell to Laurel and made his way back to his car before beginning his journey back.

- one week later -

Y/N made her way back to the bookstore a small spring in her step despite her disappoitment that she was to be unable to finish the book she had been reading for the past few weeks, she was excited to select a new book.

The bell rang as she walked into the store and she smiled brightly when she saw Laurel at the desk, "Hey L, how are you?" She said, walking over to him.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm great and I have a gift for you." He said grinning at the young girl.

Her ears perked up at the mention of a gift. "A gift? Laurel you shouldnt have."

He chuckled before handing her a copy of the book she had been intently reading for the past few weeks, "Oh honey, this was nothing to with me... I think you should take a look inside." He said with a small smirk before going to the backroom to do whatever it was he needed to do.

She slowly walked over to her usual seat in the store and sat down before opening up the book, she let out a small gasp as she saw the note Spencer had written the week before.

Dear Y/N,

I hope you don't find this strange or too forthcoming but after our brief meeting last week I knew that couldnt be the last time I spoke to you. I overheard you (I promise I wasn't purposely eavesdropping, its just a small store) mention how you love this book and how you hadn't yet finished it, I also heard how disappointed you were when Laurel told you someone had reserved it. That person was me but I realised that I'd much rather allow you to finish the incredible book than reread it for the 5th time. I hope you enjoy the ending of this book, if you would like to discuss it with me and share other book recommendations please feel free to text me. I'm not the best at technology but I am good at talking about books.

Here's my number: xxx-xxx-xxx

Kind Regards,

Spencer

She closed the book quickly, pulling out her phone and typing in the number.

Y/N: Hey Spencer, this is Y/N from the bookstore, I got your note. Would you like to meet up for coffee soon and we could discuss the book?

He replied back almost instantaneously which took Y/N by surprise.

Spencer: Hello, I'm so glad you weren't weirded out by the note I left, my friend told me it was a little creepy and I was worried. Coffee sounds great, shall we meet at the coffee shop opposite the book store tomorrow at 5?

Y/N: Sounds great! Its a date! :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x you #my works!

434 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

When We Were Young Part Eight

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader Rating: T Notes: Not beta-read. I hope everyone’s having a good week! I hope everyone’s had a good week and is doing well :) Thank you for all of the likes/reblogs/replies 🥰 Warnings: Some fluff; some angst. Summary: Your mother was deathly afraid that you would come through this season without a proposal; you had never been more afraid that you would receive one.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” You accused Sherlock as he captured one of your rooks. “I disagree. I believe I’m enjoying it exactly the right amount.” You rolled your eyes openly, careful not to let your smile widen as he chuckled. “It is your turn, dove,” He added. Your eyes darted to Cornelius, whom you saw shift in his seat at the use of the pet name. He had been steadfast in his chaperoning of yourself and Sherlock whenever the detective made it a point to stop by, as he had nearly every day for the last three weeks. You were unsure if Dawson had caught wind of your other… Visitor (Sherlock wasn’t a suitor, he wasn’t courting you, surely. You refused to put too much stock in the books and flowers that he brought; even if the books were on topics that you loved; even if Mrs. Lloyd insisted that carnations stood for fascination, and small sunflowers meant adoration, and kennedias signified mental beauty, and Peruvian heliotrope were for devotion, and mossy saxifrage represented affection).

You looked down at the board. “Aren’t you always the one counseling me not to rush into my next move?” “I suppose I am,” Sherlock mused. “Then perhaps you only pointed out that it was my turn to distract me from the bigger picture.” “Do you really think that I would do something like that?” “I think that that is exactly what you would do,” You looked up at Sherlock from under your lashes, and this time, you couldn’t help but share his smile. You reached out, your fingers settling on your bishop. Sherlock made a soft sound in his throat. “Shush,” You ordered. “You’re certain?” Sherlock asked. “It’s not going to work this time, Holmes,” You insisted, moving the piece before sitting up straight. Sherlock cocked his head to the side; the movement put you in mind of a small, confused puppy. “What’s not going to work?” His tone was woven with innocence, but you knew better. This was the third game that you’d played with him that afternoon, and he’d managed to make you second-guess yourself during the last two. “You know what. Now take your turn.” You watched as he clasped his hands under his chin, resting his chin and lips against his knuckles as he surveyed the board. In his concentration, you let your eyes wander his face. He tended to get this furrow between his brow when he was thinking; now and again, his eyes would narrow, but only a touch and just for a second. You heard him push a short huff out through his nose before he hummed thoughtfully. You didn’t follow his gaze back to the board. Instead, you continued to watch him unabashedly as you asked, “What now?” Sherlock’s eyes flitted to yours, and you felt a shock of warmth spread through you. He held your gaze with such intensity that you almost missed his moving his queen and murmuring, “Checkmate.” You looked down at the board before you leaned back in your seat, groaning in frustration. “You did far better this time than last,” Sherlock said, sitting up. You could tell that he wasn’t teasing you, and you hummed. “I didn’t beat you, though.” “You will, dove. Just not today.” You raised a brow. “No time for one more?” “I’m afraid I have to meet with Lestrade in,” Sherlock reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out his pocket watch, “Nearly half an hour.” “Ah,” You nodded, “New case?” “Yes, though from what details he told me, I’m hoping for a speedy resolution.” Your brows rose. “That sounds rather unlike you. I thought you preferred the cases that were more difficult to unpick.” “I do, but I have...Other things occupying my mind at present.” Beautifully vague; classic Sherlock. “Things regarding Enola?” You asked. He hesitated in answering before he settled on, “Some.” You stood when Sherlock did, and you cleared your throat, signalling his departure to your Uncle Cornelius. You heard him folding his paper. “I’ll be stopping by to see her tomorrow,” You added, clasping your hands, “She told me that she’d be quite occupied with Edith at the tea rooms, else, and-- and I will have to leave town at the end of this week.” Sherlock cut you a look, briefly sharp, then stunned. “This week?” He asked, frowning. “Yes.” You’d been planning on telling Sherlock at some point during his last few visits, but the two of you just seemed to get so caught up-- with conversation, or chess, or cards. “I’m afraid her mother has been quite miserable without her,” Cornelius added, rounding his armchair. You glanced at him. He knew as well as you that that was a lie; she had been irate with your departure, and only grew more and more frustrated when you’d stalled in town. She’d only allowed it for as long as she had because Cornelius had reported to her that Dawson was visiting you with some frequency. It was unlikely that he would make a trip out to see you at your home. Your mother was deathly afraid that you would come through this season without a proposal; you had never been more afraid that you would receive one. You could see on Sherlock’s face that he didn’t buy the reason for a moment, but he gave a stiff nod, murmuring, “Of course,” before he turned to look at you. “I will do my best to see you at least once more before you leave London.” “I would like that,” You said; your heart twinged with how much you meant it. -- Enola tended to get caught up in things; you knew that about her. That was why, when you arrived at Baker Street the following day, you found her not at home. Mrs. Hudson apologized profusely, offering to let you wait in the sitting room for her. You accepted, and in solitude, you took your chance to look around. It was a cozy room. Sherlock and Enola seemed to each have their own corners: Sherlock’s was by the fireplace, beside a bookshelf; Enola’s was by the window, with a desk that was stocked with books and drawing pencils. You chuckled at the caricature of Mycroft that you’d last seen at Ferndell pinned to the wall beside the window. You ran your fingers over the back of Enola’s chair before you turned, drifting toward Sherlock’s armchair. He had a reading table beside it; there was a wooden box with a pipe engraved on it, and a stack of books. There were a few pieces of paper sticking out of the books here and there, and you could just make out Sherlock’s handwriting. You glanced toward the door, holding your breath for a moment. When you were sure that you couldn’t hear anyone coming, you picked up one, scanning the title on the spine: On the Origin of Species. Your brows rose before you reached for the one under it. It was a plain-covered book, unassuming. You hummed, curious, and set the first book aside in favor of flipping through the second. You smiled a little when you saw sketches. You knew that that was one thing that Sherlock and Enola both held a love for. As you flipped through, you recognized Ferndell; there were a few pressed flowers with their sketches, meanings, and uses jotted down besides; you snorted when you spotted a caricature of Dawson. It depicted him with rather a large head and very small, beady eyes; his coat had money bursting out of the pockets, and he was leaning heavily on a dandy’s cane. Had Sherlock given your suitor gout? It certainly looked that way. You turned the next page and then froze, your breath catching in your throat. It was… Well, it was you. Sherlock had sketched you in profile. Your eyes were downcast, your lips drawn up in a smile; there was shading around your cheeks, making it look as though you were blushing. He’d made you look so soft, so...Gentle, but somehow mischievous. Was this how he saw you? Sitting on the page beside it was a flower petal - white, pressed, but still soft. It looked familiar, but you couldn’t place it at first. You trailed your finger over it, frowning, before you realized that you had last seen it at the dinner party: your gardenia. You heard the door slam shut downstairs, and the thunder of footsteps, and you hurried to shut the notebook and set it down on the stack, replacing the other book on top of it before you hurried over to the window. You turned to see Enola burst into the room, grinning. “I’m sorry, I got caught up,” She apologized as she shrugged out of her coat. You smiled, chuckling, “It’s quite alright.” “Would you like some tea?” Enola asked, but she was already heading for the kitchen. You followed close behind, answering, “Certainly.” As the two of you settled back in the sitting room with your tea, you couldn’t stop your gaze from straying to Sherlock’s reading table now and again. Enola was sharp, you knew that; you didn��t know why you thought you were being sneaky. “He’s working on a case,” She informed you after she caught you looking for the fifth time that afternoon. You nodded a little. “Yes, he mentioned. He thought it would move along quite swiftly.” “Maybe it is. He was out all last night, and when I awoke this morning, Mrs. Hudson said that he hadn’t been in yet.” You frowned at that. “Does that happen often?” You asked. “Occasionally,” Enola shrugged, “But I don’t mind.” You smiled, then, trying to reassure yourself; you knew that she didn’t, but you couldn’t help but wonder where he was and what he was up to. “...Enola.” “Hm?” “You haven’t happened to see an odd glove around here that isn’t yours, have you?” -- Your visit with Enola ran late, as it always did. You heard the clock chime five and you frowned; you were going to be late for dinner. “I should be on my way,” You sighed softly. Enola opened her mouth to reply, but it was cut off by the thudding of footsteps coming up the stairs. There was a pause before you saw Sherlock sweep through the living room. He didn’t acknowledge either of you; you could see his shoulders hunched forward, his jaw tight with irritation. You watched as he opened his bedroom door, then flinched when it slammed shut behind him. “...And now we know how the case is going,” You muttered sarcastically. Enola wrinkled her nose as you straightened from your chair. You exchanged your goodbyes, and you were headed for the front door before you stopped yourself, glancing back toward Sherlock’s door. Enola had had no leads; there was still time to get your glove back. “Just-- I’ll be a moment,” You said. Enola arched a knowing brow before she nodded, stepping into her own room and shutting the door. You frowned a little bit. What on earth had that look been for? And why had she retreated to her bedroom? You shook the thought away as you walked over to Sherlock’s door, leaning in the doorway. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles lightly on it twice. You heard a gruff call of, “What?” and you bit your lip. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. “What is it--” Came an additional yell, and you hurried to answer, “It’s me.” There was a pause, and you straightened up as you heard Sherlock’s footsteps approaching the door. He opened it, and you were briefly taken aback. You’d never seen the man look so...Disheveled. His curls were mussed, as if he’d been taking his hand through them; he’d removed his jacket and tie, and opened the top two buttons of his shirt; his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. You couldn’t help the way your eyes wandered his form before you met his gaze again. “I’m sorry, I-- Didn’t mean to disturb you.” “You haven’t,” Sherlock insisted, “I apologize, I didn’t realize that you were still here.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and peered into the sitting room, searching for Enola, before he looked back to you. “When does your train leave?” “Friday morning. The 10:30.” “Perhaps I’ll see you at the station.” That took you aback, and you were able to deduce a few things from it. “...I take it the case is proving a little more difficult than expected?” Sherlock pushed a heavy sigh out through his nose, leaning against the door frame as he hung his head; it more than confirmed your suspicions. “I’m sorry,” You added softly. He raised a hand, rubbing over the back of his neck. “It is nothing I haven’t dealt with before, but...I fear I may not be able to come and see you again before you leave.” You felt disappointment fill you, but you pushed it away, shielding it with a smile. “It’s alright, I understand,” You insisted, “I was glad to have your company while I was in town.” “And I, yours, love,” Sherlock murmured. Your heart soared at the words; you blinked at Sherlock a couple of times, certain that you’d imagined it. “Pardon?” You asked. Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “I-- I said I was glad to have yours, too, dove.” That feeling of elation plummeted as quickly as it had swelled, your heart dropping like a kite that had lost the wind. You’d simply misheard him. You lowered your eyes, nodding. “Of course. I should be on my way. Cornelius is expecting me.” “Let me hail you a hansom--” “No!” You rushed to stop him. Sherlock looked stricken; you felt bile rise in your throat, and you hurried to cover this with another smile. “I can manage it myself. Good luck with your case, Mr. Holmes.” You hurried out of Baker Street as quickly as you could, your glove completely forgotten. Tag list: @run-through-wa11s; @thefallenbibliophilequote ; @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem ; @maan24 ; @awkward-walking-potato ; @madalore ; @alexa-lightwood-blog ; @chelseaxaz ; @marwritesgood ; @runawayolives ; @parkerismybaby ; @magicstrengthandcourage ; @shesthelastjedi ; @wolfiepirate ; @xremember-me-notx ; @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 ; @alagaesian-bookdragon ; @libbymouse ; @truthdaze ; @crispysublimecupcake ; @cavillhavoc ; @juliesland ; @lyannamartell23 ; @seeking-a-great--perhaps ; @anxiousgoldengirl ; @gooddaykate-reads ; @rn7rocks ; @remember-happy-things ; @angels-pie

#When We Were Young #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x You #Sherlock Holmes Imagine #Sherlock Holmes Henry Cavill #Sherlock Holmes/Reader #Sherlock Holmes/You

477 notes · View notes

yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Sweet Little Mango

Rewrite

Read on Ao3

Chapter 3

Billy groaned as he folded himself into the Camaro.

Steve hadn’t been at school that day.

Billy wasn’t totally worried, it was around time for his heat, anyway, but Steve had been feeling bad the past few days, throwing up nearly every morning this week before making his way to school, looking pale and clammy, and sleeping through nearly every class.

Billy smoked lazily out the window. The October chill was beginning to set in, and he was fucking dreading the cold weather. He was a California, golden sunshine, warm weather baby through and through, and if it fucking snows, well. Basically, he doesn’t have a coat and he’s pretty much fucked.

He pulled into the driveway in front of Steve’s house, letting himself in the front door with the key Steve had given him at the end of summer.

The house didn’t smell like it did when Steve was in heat, full of the honey lavender scent of his hormones, his slick.

The house was as cold as still as it usually was when Mr. and Mrs. Harrington couldn’t be assed to spend time with their only kid.

Something uneasy climbed down Billy’s spine.

“Stevie?” He yelled up the stairs. There was no answer. Billy didn’t even bother taking off his shoes before he bounded upstairs. “Stever!”

He found Steve in his bedroom, all snuggly and wrapped up in bed, nestled under a pile of blankets. Again, not really unusual behavior for Steve, especially if he was in one of his moods, but the entire situation just didn’t sit right with Billy.

Call it alpha intuition.

Billy sat on the other side of the bed, laying over Steve, melting his body weight onto him.

Steve didn’t react to him.

Something’s up.

“Baby, what’s up?” Steve just made a high sound in his throat in reply.

So, there’s a big something up.

Billy started shifting blankets, finding Steve’s face. “Talk to me.” One of Steve’s eyes opened, big and round and full of something Billy couldn’t place. “You okay?”

“I went to the doctor today. I was awake all night throwing up.”

Billy kissed his forehead. He was covered in cold sweat.

“What’s the verdict? You alright?” Steve shifted, sitting up, holding a pillow to his chest. “Flu? Strep? Hand-foot-and-mouth disease?” Steve didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile.

Billy was fucking worried.

“I, um, I’m, I’m pregnant.”

Billy’s heart fucking stopped.

“She said I was probably eight weeks along.” Steve was nervously picking at something on the bedspread, beginning to ramble. “So I guess it was during one of my heats, that sometimes, sometimes omegas still have heats during the early pregnancy, which is why, why I still had the last one but didn’t have this one, and apparently it’s the size of a raspberry, a tiny little raspberry, Bill. And I, I know we’re so young, but I don’t, I don’t think I can bring myself to get rid of it, and this, I mean, it’s a fucking miracle I even got pregnant in the first place, and this could be my chance to have a pup of my own, and, god, it’s all just so fucking much, and I’m not, you don’t, I‘m not expecting anything from you but-” Billy pulled Steve into his chest, petting his hair, shushing him softly.

“It’s okay, Sweet Thing.” He kissed Steve’s head. “Whatever you wanna do. I’m gonna be right here for you.” Steve melted into him.

“Bill, I, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I can, if we can actually, actually be fucking parents, but I, Billy I can not just, just-I already love them so fucking much. ”

“You don’t have to, Honey. You can decide. We’ll make this work, how ever we have to.” He hefted Steve further into his lap. “I’m gonna be here for you, for our pup. And we got, like, family that’ll help us.”

“Bill, I don’t think our parents are gonna-”

Billy was quick to cut him off.

“Are you gonna tell Joyce she can’t babysit, or should I get murdered for it?”

Steve laughed, an unexpected little thing.

“So you’re- you’re okay?”

“I mean, nothing’s really sunk in, and I’ve got a huge fucking breakdown on the horizon once I realize what all this actually means. But, you know. I’m fine.”

Billy’s breakdown came when he went home the next morning.

When his dad backhanded him across the face for staying out all night.

He was standing in his room, staring wide-eyed at the window.

How could he be so fucking stupid? Steve wasn’t on birth control. Billy fucking knew that , and still pumped him full of cum every fucking heat.

Steve had told him that it was near impossible for male omegas to get pregnant. It had to be a perfect storm of proper anatomy and a strong heat that allowed for their bodies to actually implant and grow a tiny clump of cells into a whole human person.

Steve had been working with the idea that he pretty much couldn’t get pregnant since he was a kid. And Billy had totally run with that.

And now Steve’s got a little tiny almost person inside of him.

He’s fucking stupid. He’s stupid, and dumb, and he’s a fucking teenager with a pup on the way.

The tears stung his eyes.

He sank to his knees, one hand fisted in his own hair.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s not gonna tell Steve what to do with his own body. If he wants to have the pup, then Billy’s gonna fucking support him.

Because he’s not a shitty deadbeat.

And he loves Steve. He really does.

But he doesn’t believe in himself, though. There’s no fucking way they make this work.

There’s no fucking way they raise this pup, and stay together, and not traumatize the little thing.

There’s not a way in this fucking world.

“Alright, Steven.”

Steve was perched nervously on the exam table, his fingers in knots in his lap.

Billy was sitting against the wall, bouncing his leg and itching for a cigarette.

He hadn’t had one since Steve told him about the pup.

Two weeks ago.

He quit when Steve did. Not that Steve kept up the same level as Billy. There was a big difference between one or two cigarettes at a party, and nearly two packs a day.

But it wasn’t good for Steve, or the pup, so Billy took the most stressful time in his whole life so far, to quit smoking.

They were at Steve’s ten-week appointment. At the clinic in Indianapolis. The one where the front desk staff only raised an eyebrow at the boys’ fake I.D.s and didn’t ask for their parents’ contact information.

The doctor ushered Steve to lay back, pulling up his t-shirt to spread the clear jelly on his stomach, turning on the machine.

She located the fetus easily.

“Well, it looks like you’re coming along nicely. You’re at the proper growth for this stage, and the heartbeat’s nice and strong.”

Billy was staring at the monitor.

He couldn’t really make anything out. The machine was making this wooshing sound, like it was a scope underwater, and not a digital look into Steve.

But there was a little tiny blob in there. Something that looked like a little white bean nestled in Steve’s abdomen.

Their pup.

The doctor highlighted the little bean, zooming in and taking a capture of the image.

“Little pup's first picture.”

Steve’s scent went absolutely sweet, filling the room with sugar. Billy just reached out, taking his hand.

At the beginning of his pregnancy, Steve had terrible insomnia.

Billy would sneak out of his house to come over most nights, curling up behind Steve with one hand splayed wide on his slightly chubby tummy. He was always solid behind Steve. Warm and soft, a constant comfort to remind Steve that he wasn’t alone with the pup. That he had Billy to love them. To protect them and take care of them.

And sometimes, his warmth and steady breathing would be enough to lull Steve into a nice doze, or even to coax him into sleep.

But most nights, he was wide awake.

Steve didn’t want to keep Billy awake on those long nights, so he would sneak out of Billy’s gentle embrace, and sit on the couch downstairs in the sitting room. He would usually hang out in the quiet, just him and the little pup growing inside of him.

But then Billy would wake up, cold and alone, and would trudge downstairs to find Steve, and manhandle Steve until he was laying on top of Billy on the couch.

That’s where they were when Billy first spotted the grand piano in the corner of the room. Never noticed where it stood, collecting dust. Partially hidden by a large potted fern. He slid out from under Steve and took a seat at the leather padded seat, brushing his fingers over the glossy blackness of the beautiful piano.

Many of the keys were out of tune, as the thing hadn’t been played in years, but he plonked out a few easy scales.

Billy’s mom used to play. He had vivid memories of sitting on her lap, his hands on hers as she played beautiful songs. She taught him a few, once upon a time.

He struggled through one of the songs he could kind of remember, occasionally hitting the wrong key before correcting himself and continuing with the melody. He stumbled through what he could of Hey Jude before turning back to Steve, expecting to see a soft smile, big tired eyes blinking slowly back at him.

But Steve was dead asleep on the couch, both hands resting over his tummy.

Billy carried him up to bed.

That became their ritual on nights Steve couldn’t sleep.

Steve even decided to scour the poorly stocked music store and bought Billy lots of sheet music. He had just grabbed random stuff, and ended up with the weirdest assortment of things. Rock ballads and classical pieces. Swing jazz and a few beginner piano books.

Billy sifted through to find the easier stuff. He could still read sheet music well enough to slowly decipher the notes, but had to remind himself which keys corresponded to which note.

The piano was still out of tune and sometimes made the songs sound dreadfully wrong and quite nearly frightening, but it was peaceful. Quiet except for the sounds of the piano.

Steve was just content to sit next to him as he did it, holding onto his stomach, his head leaned gently against Billy’s shoulder.

They didn’t really tell Joyce.

Not exactly, anyway.

Steve and Billy were at Melvald’s, looking through the health section, throwing vitamins Steve’s OBGYN had recommended into the basket.

The basket was heavy, the metal handles digging into the meat of Billy’s palm. Nearly overflowing with expensive supplements that were meant to help their little pup grow into something fully formed and functioning.

Steve was being picky about the supplements. Taking the specific brands the doctor had recommended, reading the labels diligently to see if they said anything along the lines of Warning: Do not take while pregnant. Will give your pup an extra head.

Joyce was the only person at the check-out stand, and she made small talk while she scanned vitamins, shea butter, and produce, not even looking at the rattling plastic bottles.

Until one container wouldn’t scan. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands.

She faltered, and it was like the world came to a halt.

Prenatal Vitamins, omega specialized formula

She stared at it. Steve felt like he was gonna cry.

But she moved in a flash, shifting around the counter, and pulling Steve into a tight hug.

It took him a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around her.

“If you boys need anything, and I mean anything at all, you come get me.” Steve scrunched his eyes up, trying not to sob into her shoulder.

She pulled away, giving Billy a hug of his own.

He hooked his chin on her shoulder, and he kinda felt like he could cry too. She gave him a bone-crushing hug for someone so small.

She took Steve’s hand when she finally relinquished Billy.

“How far along are you?”

“Just about ten weeks.” She cooed, handing them their bags as Billy counted out bills.

“And you’re not even showing. With Jon, I must’ve put on thirty pounds.” Steve looked around.

He was wearing a baggy sweatshirt, mostly wearing too-big clothes of Billy’s these days, trying to hide what he could for as long as possible. He was beginning to get insecure about the weight he was gaining, even though it showed off the growth of their pup.

But he’s vain. And Steve’s the first to admit that.

He lifted his sweatshirt to show the shirt underneath, the tighter fabric showing off his little bump. Joyce smiled at them, and it made Steve feel so warm.

“I want copies of the very first sonogram.”

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #sweet little mango #mango #omega steve harrington #alpha billy hargrove #mpreg #harringrove #harringrove abo

97 notes · View notes

athenadione · 3 years

Text

‘you are mine (and I am yours)’

In which you can find out the hard way that demons don't like sharing. @vi-la-vi

AthenaDione and I did a thing! Everyone loves jealous Damian, but hear us out....jealous Raven? Hope you enjoy! -Vi

I’m so incredibly honored to participate in this collab. Vi practically paved the way for me to give you all the delicious demon Raven smut that ensues and did a superb job writing the majority of this piece, as always. If you enjoy and feel so inclined, you can leave a kudos HERE on A03. Vi— thank you for allowing me to be a part of your writing process. You’re such a talented writer and I’m happy to have found you :) -AD

She couldn’t stop staring at him. Not just because it had been years since she last saw him, but because ever since she met him, Anna Vandergilt had thought of little else.

Damian Wayne.

They’d met at a benefit when both were sixteen years old, and it had been love at first sight. The elusive heir finally returned to Gotham after five years abroad, doing god knows what. She’d collected every bit of information she could about him, academic transcripts, tabloids, medical and legal records. Vandergilt influence ran deep and she had no compunction about using it to fuel her obsession. Securing an internship at Wayne Enterprises as Tim Drake’s assistant was just the latest step.

And now he’s here, and I won’t let him get away again.

Damian had to remember her, the spark when their eyes met, the unbreakable connection they’d made. He didn’t acknowledge it when they were introduced, but that was fine. He was an intense, secretive man and likely just didn’t want to make a scene.

Green eyes flashed to hers and narrowed, catching her staring. She willed herself to keep it together, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs in an attempt to draw his attention to the slit in her pencil skirt. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and leggy, she knew how to make men stare.

Or so she thought. Damian had turned his attention back to Tim’s presentation, arms crossed and expression impatient. So serious. She planned ways she might be able to get him alone, with no one and nothing to distract him from her. After today, I’ll have more than just fantasies. She’d been looking for an opening to approach him all day and was sure she couldn’t wait much longer.

They broke for lunch, but just as she moved towards him she was intercepted by Tim.

“Hey Anna, can you run up to my office and grab my blue flash drive? I forgot to bring it down earlier.”

Get it yourself! she wanted to snap. An assistant position was well beneath her pedigree, and she hated taking instructions from common-born Tim Drake. Swallowing her irritation, she smiled and nodded.

When she finally returned, Damian had already gone, apparently having had a lunch appointment with someone else. Anna sighed. I’ll speak to him after work, I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to dinner and drinks. No man had ever refused her.

She spied him later as she was returning to the conference room, speaking to a dark-haired woman she didn’t know outside of his office. She took a moment to admire him in his suit, noting curiously that the girl with him was only casually dressed in black jeans and an off-shoulder top with a band logo. Unprofessional much? He’s probably scolding her about the dress code.

Just as the thought solidified, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of Damian’s jaw, tugging his tie playfully as she did so.

It was as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head. Anna stood stock-still, mouth falling open in horror. Who the fuck...how dare…?

The woman whispered something in his ear, kissing his jaw again as Damian rolled his eyes and smirked. She continued to stare, waiting for him to shove her away, glare, do something. She heard someone approach from behind.

“Ugh, those two,” Tim groaned.

“Who is that?” Her voice was tight and strained, and the man next to her gave her a curious glance.

“That’s Rachel, Damian’s girlfriend.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss for anything else.

It’s not fair. I planned...I’ve been waiting…

She shook her head, determination moving in. A minor setback. He just needs to know there’s something better on the market. Vandergilts were practically royalty, after all. Her beauty and breeding were no doubt superior. She bit back her anger as Damian dropped a kiss on the other woman’s forehead before walking away.

Just a minor setback, she mentally repeated.

Tim’s assistant had a serious staring problem, and Damian was relieved when he was finally able to retire to his office. Annoying. The older man had joked earlier that Damian’s constant absence in Gotham and avoidance of the public eye elevated him to mythical status among some of his father’s employees. He longed for this week to end, eager to be back in Jump and away from the Wayne gawkers.

His phone buzzed, distracting him from the revenue charts in front of him.

“Stephanie is insane.”

Damian smiled, eyes darting to his watch to see how much longer he’d be stuck in this office. As necessary as it was that he be here for the audit, he felt bad abandoning Raven to his siblings. Next time they came to Gotham he’d make sure it was purely recreational and personally show her the sights.

“A half hour more, then I will come rescue you.”

Then two days more, and they would be home.

A knock on the door called his attention. “Mr. Wayne? Could I borrow you for a moment. I need a second pair of eyes on this file.”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow at the worshipful expression on her face. The scent of expensive perfume assailed him and Damian fought the urge to wrinkle his nose. She looked at him hopefully, blinking rapidly.

“Ask Drake.”

She shifted, reaching up to toy with her platinum blonde hair. “Oh...he just has so much on his plate. I wanted to avoid bothering him,” she replied, voice high and lilting.

Strange woman. Damian wondered where his older brother had found this one. He hadn’t really been paying attention when they were introduced, Vander-something or other.

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Oh, thank you,” she breathed.

She circled around the desk to stand next to him, laying the file in front of him and bending low. A fall of blonde hair brushed his shoulder and Damian shifted slightly to put some distance between them. He spent so little time in normal society it was easy to forget how bad most people were with personal space.

“What exactly did you need help with?”

“This.”

Without warning, she sat on his lap and pressed her lips forcefully against his, throwing one arm around his neck for good measure. Damian completely froze, protests firing rapidly through his mind. She tugged on the waistband of his pants and it was enough to break his paralysis. He shoved her off of him violently and she caught herself on the desk, shifting it several inches back.

“What are you doing?!”

The alarm on her face lasted only a second before being replaced with a coy smile. “Don’t be shy, I know you remember me. It’s been years, but you’re all I’ve thought about, Damian. I swear.”

“I - don’t…” Damian felt uncharacteristically frazzled. “I have - no. I’m not interested,” he finally managed.

“Please, Damian.” She tried to take a step forward and he instinctively backed away. He hated the way she said his name, he realized distantly.

“I have a girlfriend,” he said, hard edge in his voice. One who would kill you and probably me if she was here right now. Raven did not share.

The woman sniffed. “Her. Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a Wayne. She can’t possibly-”

“Enough.”

He glared fiercely, daring her to try and continue. Tears swam in her blue eyes and Damian felt a touch of relief that he finally managed to get through.

“I...hmph, fine. Keep her on the side if you must. My father had a mistress. Just keep her out of my sight.”

She’s insane. What the fuck kind of vetting process do you have, Drake?

He closed his eyes and exhaled before meeting her watery gaze once again.

“Listen very carefully. I. Am. Not. Interested. I want you out of this building in the next five minutes or I’ll call security.”

“I - but - we…” She straightened, eyes glassy with disbelief as she tried to compose herself. “I see.”

Damian kept his glare on as she left the room, feeling a headache build behind his eyes. He grabbed his phone again, feeling a pang of guilt when he saw Raven's name, and called his brother.

"I fired your assistant. You're welcome."

"What? Damian, you can't just show up and start firing people!"

"I'll...explain later." Vaguely, and with as few details as I can manage.

The hint of discomfort in his voice must have given him away. "Seriously? No wonder she was staring at you all day.”

"Drop it."

"Alright, alright. Her dad's going to be pissed though, he pushed Bruce for months to take her on here. Sounds like you got your very first stalker."

Well that was a disturbing thought. Damian shook it off. "Just tell him it didn't work out." He didn't want any rumors getting back to Raven if he could help it.

Lying to an empath is easier said than done.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She snorted disbelievingly, eyes glued on the book in her hand. “Why do you feel so guilty?”

“It was a long day. I felt bad for you.” Half-truths were the only semi-effective way he’d found of getting around her lie detector. Normally Damian would smother inconvenient questions with lips, hands, and other parts of him that Raven was always deliciously responsive to, but touching her would have felt wrong right now. She deserved to know the truth before she decided how near she wanted him.

She rolled onto her side then, burrowing down against her pillow and studying him curiously. “You don’t have to spend every second with me, Damian. I’m pretty self-sufficient, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He shrugged, laying back and closing his eyes. “I’ll just be glad to get out of here. People in Gotham are a different breed.”

Raven hummed. “Fine, don’t tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

With that, she leaned over to kiss him goodnight. Damian flinched at the contact before responding in kind, and pretended he didn’t see the confused look in her eyes.

“I love you,” he said, focusing the emotion to make sure she felt it as well.

She closed her eyes, slightly mollified. “I love you, too.”

I'll tell her when we get home, he promised himself. As much as he hated keeping secrets, he knew she was going to be upset and preferred a controlled setting. Damian remembered an incident shortly after they began dating when the ticket-taker at the theater had slipped him her phone number. Raven said nothing at first, but the night ended in a supply closet instead of a screening room.

"I don't share," she whispered dangerously, legs tightening around his hips to draw him in deeper. Red flickered across her purple irises. “You’re mine.”

He smirked at the memory. We never did get to see that movie.

Definitely safer for all involved to wait until they'd left Gotham.

Anna stared at her discreetly from the park bench. He’s loyal, that’s all. And I wouldn’t have him any other way.

She grudgingly admitted to herself that the other woman was pretty, if unconventional. Pale purple eyes and dark purple hair - hadn’t anyone told her the punk rock look was out of date? She had nothing on the blonde’s classical beauty.

A hefty bribe to the Wayne's chauffeur had given her knowledge of the woman's - Rachel's - movements throughout the day. She was ordinarily accompanied by Tim's banshee of a girlfriend and one of Bruce's orphans, but had separated from them earlier in the day to visit Gotham’s Arts District. Anna waited until she saw her enter the nearly empty arboretum before making her move. If Damian couldn’t be persuaded to break things off, this one could. An affair with the office hottie - tale as old as time.

“Pardon me?” She adopted a nervous affect as she approached, eyes downcast. “You’re Rachel, right?”

The other woman tore her gaze from the plaque in front of her, violet eyes locking on baby blue. “Do I know you?”

“Anna. I work - worked at Wayne Enterprises. I’m really sorry to do this, but...there’s something you need to know.”

She regarded her silently and the blonde fought the urge to fidget. There's something off about her. What were you thinking, Damian? Finally, Rachel nodded once, crossing her arms. Anna smiled internally and fiddled anxiously with her hands, doing her best to look miserable.

“I was Tim’s assistant until Damian fired me yesterday,” she began, voice weepy. “Tim’s the one who told me about you, I swear I didn’t know before.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed, something dark and inscrutable flashing in and out of her gaze. “...Excuse me?”

Anna took the low anger in her voice as an encouraging sign and continued. She dropped her eyes again and let out a harsh sob. “I’m not the kind of person who fools around with other women’s boyfriends, and-"

A massive burst of black and red interrupted her thoughtfully planned speech, demolishing the stone plaque next to them and knocking her to the ground. She screamed, covering her head with her arms. A bomb? What’s happening?

Before she could get her bearings, something hauled her up by the throat, slamming her painfully against a tree. She blinked against the white spots in her vision and the dust in the air, squinting to see what held her.

Four slitted golden eyes met her own, radiating fury so thick she could almost taste it. I’m seeing things. I hit my head and I’m seeing things. The devil tightened its hold on her neck and stepped closer, heat pouring off its red skin. Terrified beyond anything she’d ever felt, Anna felt her bladder let go.

“Did you fuck Damian?” it - she - asked in a deadly calm voice.

“Wh-what?” she croaked. No way...what the fuck is she?!

“Answer, mortal.”

She sobbed in her grasp, all her carefully crafted lies flying away in the wake of her terror. “No! I just kissed him!”

The claws (claws?!) around her neck tightened and she felt warm trickles of blood start to seep down into her collar.

“That - that’s all! That’s all I did! I’m sorry!” she cried, “I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again!”

“I know.”

Shadows wrapped around the two of them and she screamed.

Stupid, stupid woman, Damian thought furiously, raising his eyes from the weeping figure on the floor. He’d put it together fairly quickly after walking in the door, and was currently kicking himself for not considering this possibility. She’s clearly deranged, I shouldn’t be surprised she approached Raven.

The woman in question sat in a nearby armchair, looking every bit the queen of hell she was. Her demonic appearance and the regal way she carried herself in this form lent their mundane bedroom at Wayne Manor the feel of some macabre court.

“Something to confess?” his demoness asked lowly.

“I was going to tell you when we returned home. This is the exact situation I was trying to avoid.” Sparks of black and red magic at her fingertips told him that was the wrong thing to say.

“You think a couple hundred miles would have saved her from me when I found out? I would cross entire universes.”

The woman before her seemed to curl in further on herself, as if trying to become a smaller target. Prayers fell from her lips, whispered and unintelligible.

“She’s not worth it. I would have made you see that.”

“That’s not your decision to make. You are mine, this was a challenge to me. A proper demon would have brought just the head.”

A loud wail met her words and golden eyes flicked downwards, oozing contempt. Damian felt a thrill race down his spine. He'd never seen her this angry - possessive. The idea that he was the catalyst, that his composed, serene Raven was burning so brightly over a stolen kiss made his blood tingle.

Apparently feeling the weight of the demon’s stare, she covered her head with her hands and tried to choke back her cries. A prey-like instinct to hide taking root.

He swallowed before speaking, mindful of the thin ice he was on. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t kill her.”

An amused sound escaped her, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret it. “Beloved?”

She finally met his eyes again, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Fine. But if I ever see or sense this creature near you again, I will tear her apart slowly. Testor ego eam.”

With that, she waved a hand and the other woman vanished in a rush of black. He didn’t bother to ask where, not wanting to push his luck with Raven right now. Hysterical as the other woman was, no one would believe anything she had to say anyways.

The demoness crossed her arms, studying him silently. She seemed to have no intention of changing back to her human form. Oh.

“I suppose I’m in trouble as well?”

“Lies deserve punishment. And you need to be reminded who you belong to.”

“You, habibti. Always.”

Her smile offered nothing but trouble and his heart started to pick up. "That’s a start."

“Oh?” he asked her, not moving from the spot where he stood. It seemed that court was still in session, and her final judgement on his own transgressions had not yet passed.

She picked at a claw unhurriedly, hooded eyes flicking over his figure. Not one to back down, he met her appraising stare inch for inch.

“Did you know that demons mate for life?” she asked without warning.

“No, beloved,” he breathed. The information was new but it hardly mattered. He had already decided that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her long before they ended up together. He just wondered why she felt it necessary to mention now.

“It’s a sacred bond. Actually sacred, unlike human marriages. Challenging it is the worst insult one demon can deal to another.” Her eyes narrowed, and her claws seemed to sharpen before his eyes.

“She wasn’t a-”

“No one will threaten our bond. Do you understand, mate?”

Dear gods.

He resisted the urge to lick his lips, instead pressing them firmly together. “You should know that you will never be at risk of losing me, beloved.”

“I know. I also know you will never lie to me again.” The demoness waved a clawed hand before resting it underneath her chin. She was waiting for him. He swallowed again.

“What can I do to make amends?”

Her grin widened, boarding on malevolent, as if she finally found the answer she was looking for. Lifting effortlessly from her chair, she began to stride across the room to him with measured steps.

“I have a few ideas.” She purred.

“Oh?” he asked again, displeased at how out of breath he sounded.

Golden eyes held his own, and she didn’t speak again until she was just an arm's length away from him.

Then she pointed at her feet. “Kneel.”

He felt his jaw go slack. She wants me to do what?

She cocked her head at his hesitation. “You will not kneel for your demoness?” She clicked her tongue in distaste. “Don’t you want to remedy your indiscretions?”

He set his jaw, barely suppressing a wince. When she put it that way, there was no reason not to kneel before her, even if the thought of doing so went against every instinct in his body. He did, after all, lie to her, and if this was what she wanted from him then who was he to deny her?

Besides, there would be an opportunity for her to return the favor. I’ll make sure of it.

Revealing nothing, he stared at her impassively and slowly dropped to one knee, biting back a scowl as her smirk grew.

Then, he watched as a slender leg poked out from the slit of the dress she was wearing, and a strappy, black heel. He gave her a simmering look, then took it in his hands without a word, and pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the side of her calf.

“That’s very nice, mate.” She murmured, resting a clawed hand onto this shoulder. “What else are you willing to do for me?”

A light smirk replaced his features. She was asking him to seduce her. To fuck her. That was something he would be more than willing to oblige.

He promptly stood to his feet and grabbed her wrist, pulling him into his chest. To his amused delight, she went pliant in his arms— nearly purring as he captured her lips with his. He kissed her thoroughly, drowning out the memory of the other gods-awful kiss that’d been forced upon him.

Then a clawed hand traveled his cheek lightly, moving its way to the back of his head. She suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged downwards, tearing his lips from hers. He hissed when sharpened teeth latched themselves on his neck, nipping at the exposed flesh there before soothing it with her tongue.

Then she began to walk forward, forcing him to step with her— until the back of his knees touched the mattress of their bed.

“Meus es tu.” She said lowly, and she pushed at his chest, sending him backwards.

It turned into a battle for assertion. One that he admitted he thoroughly enjoyed— and intended on winning.

He took her with him, grabbing her waist to position her underneath. His smile was smug when he peered down into four golden slits, obviously dissatisfied at the turn of events.

Ignoring her bared teeth, he nudged open her legs with one knee before settling between them, then rolled against her in one swift movement, taking pleasure in the way she threw her head back with a growl.

He continued his ministrations, trailing hot kisses down her neck, just as she did to his moments before. One hand reached up to graze her breast as his kisses went farther down the middle of her chest, while his other hand roamed over the swell of her hips.

Raven in turn, was growing more frustrated with every second he kept her distracted with his teasing, light touches.

“Enough.” It was a command.

By the time he managed to blink he found himself on his back and she was straddling his waist.

Her hands encased with her dark magic. “Alliges duplicia.”

His arms lit up with her magic and they were forced above his head. When he tried to bring them back down he was met with resistance. What the hell? When he looked up his eyes widened with realization. She bound my fucking hands to the headboard.

“Raven.” He snarled in warning, tugging on his bonds. The demoness was unperturbed by his outburst.

“You will submit to me, mate.” A dangerous red swirled in those golden irises, and he clenched his jaw in response, then bit back a groan when she brushed against his length.

“Let me go.” He glared.

“I will not. This is your punishment. You will stay like this until you beg for me.”

“Tch.”

He detested how painfully hard he was. His erection strained against his trousers, and he couldn’t contain his next groan when she palmed him.

It didn’t matter how much he wished she’d slip her hand underneath his belt. He would not beg.

She began to strip slowly, until she was completely bare before him, and then she peeled off his pants carefully— and then his shirt. His full erection was on display for her, and he released a strangled noise in the back of his throat when she settled her heated core against him.

She chuckled darkly when he twitched underneath her. “Say please.”

“No.” he gritted out, breath hitching when her mouth latched onto one of his nipples, nipping roughly. Her tongue flicked it right after, mixing the pain she had caused with pleasure.

“No?” Her claws wrapped around his throat, squeezing in warning. “You are in no position to deny me, mate.”

He just glowered.

“Fine.” She relented, retracting her claws. “You will break eventually.”

Her fingers lifted to her full breasts, reddened from her true form, and her fingers began to tease one darkened nipple into a tight peak. The bonds went taut when he pulled at them roughly in an attempt to reach out to her. She noticed this and smirked as she teased her other nipple, then rocked against him. They groaned together.

He watched as she then slipped one hand down to her core and began to tease herself, parting her folds before slipping a finger inside while grazing against his cock.

She moaned, mouth parting slightly and he growled again in protest. That should be his fingers inside of her.

“If you insist on not obeying me, then I will use you for my own pleasure.” She sunk down onto his cock and his head hit the wall with his groan. Fuck, she felt so damned good and the pace she was setting set him on a steady course towards an impending orgasm, regardless of how much he despised not being in control.

“Beloved.” He growled when she brought him to the brink all too soon, then slowed back down while teasing her clit with her own fingers. Quick, circling motions that revealed her own need to him— that she was nearing her own orgasm.

He caught her hitched breath. She was losing resolve, caught in her own wave of pleasure.

“Release me.” He tugged on his bonds again and bucked his hips into her for good measure. “I want to be the one to fuck you when you come.”

She gasped and clenched around him, drawing him even deeper. “I will come soon. If you want to fuck me, you must beg now.”

He cursed. Goddamn her.

“Please, habibti. I am yours.”

With a victorious smirk, she waved a hand. That smirk was short-lived however, because as soon as the bonds disappeared he lunged for his little demoness, twisting them both before pulling out of her to roll her onto her stomach.

“You are mine too, Beloved. I will also make sure of that,” he snarled into her ear, teasing his cock at her entrance. His hands held her pressed against the bed.

The demoness laughed, then inhaled sharply when he pushed into her with one swift movement. They were both right at the edge, only a few more thrusts was all it would take to throw them both over.

“I can feel how close you are,” He reached a hand underneath her to press his thumb directly against her clit, “Come with me, now.”

She cried out— a sound that was more animalistic than human, and she fluttered around him. He fell shortly after, nearly seeing stars. He continued to thrust languidly, drawing out their orgasms. Vaguely, he watched as Raven’s skin turned from red to flushed ivory. One pair of eyes turned to peer up at him instead of two, and the color of her irises receded to lavender.

For a moment he watched her transform, breathless.

She smiled up at him as her breathing returned to normal and he returned it before dropping his face to her neck. “I’m going to have to make you jealous more often,” Damian murmured into her skin.

Raven snorted, lifting a hand to run through his sweat-soaked hair. “Unwise. Not only will I definitely kill the next one, it will hurt the entire time she is dying.”

“Green is a good color on you, habibti.”

She said nothing, but he could feel her contentment in the gentle run of her fingers across his hair and skin. As post-orgasmic clarity continued to take hold a question popped into his mind and he leaned up to regard her.

“When were you planning on telling me we were essentially demon-married?”

She flushed. “Eventually. Are you...did you not want…?”

He silenced her with a kiss, letting his actions and strength of his emotions answer her question. As though he could ever give this up, or stomach the idea of either of them being with someone else.

After all, Damian didn’t share either.

#damirae #damian x raven #damian wayne #raven #teen titans #fanfic

201 notes · View notes

xlehukax · 3 years

Text

Thank You For The Music

Foreword: This is for the Sanders Sides Gift Exchange! Analogical Soulmate Au, as requested by @romantichopelessly! Happy holidays. And there’s also a playlist! @sanderssidesgiftxchange!

Ships: Logan x Virgil, (Background) Patton x Janus

Word Count: 8374

Warnings: SelectiveMute!Virgil, like one fight scene, Cursing, Logan’s ignoring feelings, it’s mainly the Logan and Virgil show... I don’t think there’s really anything!

Summary: Logan’s been asked to assist a local student on campus. Having nothing else to do, he agrees: and so starts a connection that he would’ve never expected, and one that flowers more beautifully than he could ever imagine. (Soulmates can hear each other sing in their heads: Italics are either singing or sign language)

~~~~~

Somehow, Logan thought his fourth year in College would feel different. Like he’s gone on some sort of journey: like he’s learned in the education manner but also in the lifestyle sort of way.

It doesn’t appear that way. It seems like Logan’s the same.

No friends.

No challenges.

Nothing to be excited about whatsoever. He’s going to college for the degree at this point, and the title alone. It’s why when the professor for his Microbiology class asks him to stay after, it shocks him. Especially so close to the end of the semester.

Is he not doing enough? A quick inventory of his mind ensures that he hasn’t forgotten anything. The professor must need something: she’s taken a shine to him anyway, it probably isn’t bad. Logan gathers his things and then places them carefully in their individual places in his bag: once everything is where it belongs, in pockets and folders and sections, Logan presents himself to the professor. She smiles at him over the top of her laptop, eyes sparkling with mirth before shutting the lid of the machine.

“Thank you for seeing me, Logan,” she grins.

“I’m going to be blunt here: why have you asked me to stay? I assume that there is nothing out of order.”

“No, no… your grades are impeccable, participation is great, and you’ve been fantastic. It’s simply that you’re so outstanding that I want to ask a favor,” his professor asks shrewdly. Logan hums for a moment, debating, before wincing in pain and clutching his temple.

“Logan! Are you alright, dear?”

“Ah, yes. It’s merely my soulmate,” he says by way of explanation. The professor smiles broadly.

“How fantastic! Anything good?”

Logan quickly takes stock of the song: his mystery mate sang Overkill yesterday during Office Hours, and Sally’s Song the day before that while he was at his college apartment. He only knew because a) these were repeating songs, and b) he’d looked them up right away. Listened to them after the music fades to hold them close.

It’s funny that he never once thinks that the original is better in any sense than the sweet song of his soulmate. His (Logan’s assumed it’s a he, based on his own sexuality and interests) music is so sweet: his voice is lilting and beautiful and it makes Logan feel so guilty. So guilty, because he must be the most beautiful man in the world and Logan hasn’t given him anything. Logan does not… sing.

And in a world where you hear your soulmate’s singing in your own head, it’s a betrayal.

“So? What is it?” the professor’s voice snaps him back to reality.

“Oh, I’m not sure. It seems to go… oh, oh, oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting. Oh, oh, oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting. I’m a lonely boy, I’m a lonely boy,” he repeats the song in a monotone. The professor snaps her fingers.

“Ah, The Black Keys. Lonely Boy, a classic!! It’s a good song, your soulmate has some bloody good taste. And, what are you doing, letting them be lonely like that?” she winks at him, “It’s quite the song.”

“I do not see how this is relative to our conversation,” Logan deadpans, tired of this discourse already. If it has nothing to do with academics, he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got off-topic. Anyway, you know ASL right?”

“Indeed.”

“Perfect,” she smiles gently, getting up from the desk and dusting herself off, “There’s a student at the school, it’s his second year: he’s mute and uses primarily ASL to communicate. So far, he’s been surviving by being with his brother. But the brother is changing schools after this semester to go to a better nursing school and… well, we need someone to look after Virgil. Virgil Williams is the name of the student and Patton Williams’s the brother. There’s not a lot of students who know ASL here, and from what I’ve heard you don’t really participate in extracurricular activities. This would be not only a great way to flesh out your resumé but also simply a great thing to do, you know, humanitarian wise. Would you be up for it?”

Logan considers for a moment. It’s true, he doesn’t do a whole lot outside of schoolwork: he does tend to have too much free time spent re-reading books. It doesn’t have to be anything special: it’s only helping this kid when he needs it. No problem whatsoever: he’s tutored people before, it’ll be similar.

“I don’t see why not. Do I have an opportunity to meet with them before I agree completely?”

“Oh, of course! They should be at their dorm now… here’s the dorm number,” she passes him a slip of paper and what this job will entail and waves him off. The dorm’s only a short walk away: it’ll be less than a ten-minute walk from the lecture hall if he crosses the Courtyard.

Logan walks briskly: he doesn’t require the extra exercise due to his rigorous workout schedule but it’s always nice to stretch his limbs. He breaks into a light jog, his bag bouncing slightly on his back as he moves, and makes it there in exactly 8.7 minutes instead of 10. Logan wipes the sweat from his brow with a cloth before entering the dormitories and heading to the shared Williams dorm. It’s on the third floor, right outside the elevators.

Logan takes the stairs.

He combats a sudden influx of nerves at the door: swallows it deep and regulates his features. Professional, he thinks to himself. Be professional.

His knock is answered immediately as if they were standing at the door. Logan’s presented with a man who breaks out into a broad smile immediately: his hair is pulled up into a small bundle at the top of his head, sparse brown curls sticking out haphazardly. He’s quite large and strong-looking: he’d be intimidating if his eyes didn’t have that same sort of sparkle that the professor did, his large circle-rimmed glasses hiding absolutely nothing.

“Oh!! You must be the guy the Prof knew!! Hello! I’m Patton!! It’s so great to meet you!! Agh, I’m so excited! Well, Virgil too,” he grins. Logan blinks. He is… a lot.

“Greetings. I am Logan,” Logan signs the words alongside the verbal words to demonstrate his fluency. Patton squeals and Logan winces.

“Haha, sorry about that. Again, eee! So excited! I’ll introduce you to Virgil,” Patton holds the door ajar for Logan to enter, gesturing to the small pile of shoes to remove his. Logan gently unties his trainers and places them beside a pair of Doc Martens and Toms. They’re about as different as they could be: one is black and bulky with thick purple laces, the others a sky blue with little paw prints. Polar opposites. Logan diverts his attention to Patton, who’s been jabbering on about something or other.

“-and there he is! Virgil, come on out kiddo- meet Logan!” Patton coos at what at first glance seems to be a shadow but in reality is a man who practically hides by the door of the conjoined bedroom. He’s encompassed by an oversized hoodie.

“Hello, it is nice to meet you, Virgil,” he signs out silently. Patton bites his lip to stop himself from speaking, but his noises of excitement escape anyway. Virgil signs back a meek hello: his hood falls off in the process, and Logan scrutinizes the face that he’s apparently going to be assisting for a while.

Virgil has long dark hair: unkempt and uncut, old dye lingering stubbornly on the tips of it. His eyelashes are long, drooping over his cheeks, as he avoids Logan’s gaze. He possesses dark circles under each eye- so dark it seems intentional. Virgil tugs his hood over his head the moment the silence stretches a bit too long, and he’s gone: a rabbit ducking into a hole. Logan wishes he’d put the hood back down.

In all regards, Logan means to say that Virgil holds palpable beauty.

The idea within itself isn’t strange: Logan understands the various societal norms and standards that society adheres to beauty and usually makes deductions off of that, but there is… something about Virgil. Virgil’s not muscular looking, or overly lean, or anything of the sort. He’s simply… enchanting.

“Well, say something!” Patton shouts, breaking the silence. “Or, I mean, sign something, Virge. It’s too stifled in here: do either of you want something to drink?”

“Water?” Virgil signs. His hands are shaking.

“I’ll have one of those too,” Logan adds on. Patton smiles at the two of them and finger guns. “You can hear, correct?” Logan asks, keeping his tone easy. He makes sure to enunciate each of his words, just in case. Virgil blinks up at him moonishly.

“Yes,” Virgil says, worrying at his lip.

“You don’t need to be afraid. I’m only here to help you,” Logan attempts to smile at him comfortingly: judging by Virgil’s expression, it seems more like a grimace. “Let’s sit down and talk about this, alright?” Logan sighs. He pulls out a chair at their small table and lets Virgil sit in it, pushing him in. Immediately after, Virgil pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He’s vanished completely into his hoodie.

Logan sits next to him, rather than across: he doesn’t want to make him feel like he’s being interrogated.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says.

“You have nothing to be sorry for?” Logan replies, more of a question than an assurance. “My apologies Virgil, but you’re not trying to impress me. I am simply here to introduce myself so that I can begin to help you. I am here for you. You can take as long as you want.”

Virgil peeks out from under the hoodie like a prairie dog emerges from a hole. Hair first, then curious eyes, then his hands.

Logan smiles.

“Now, let’s draw up a contract here, to outline what we’ll be doing this year. I do believe,” he retrieves the papers the professor had given him, “that you already have a solution for classes, so you will not require my assistance there. It’s more after school hours and personal activities, no?”

Virgil nods meekly.

So… Virgil just needs a… friend? A friend who knows ASL? Logan’s heart swells in his chest: Virgil just needs a friend.

Logan doesn’t let his excitement show: because deep down, deep enough that he’ll never admit it fully- let alone say it aloud- he’d truly like a friend too.

And as Virgil glances over the contract and bites his nails and spares him the smallest glance before Patton returns with two glasses of water and a plate of supermarket cookies… Logan can’t help but feel like this will become more.

The contract is solidified: Logan will go to Virgil after his classes end, assist him with homework or anything else he needs at the time. Logan will be on speed dial for him if talking to people if needed. Logan will be paid a small sum per day, as well as the equating service hours.

Patton can’t stop thanking him with tears in his eyes. Virgil doesn’t look at him once, spares him no glances. Rather, his eyes are downcast for the next hour that Logan’s there. He has a little fidgeting toy and presses it in his lap. Logan exchanges cordially with Patton, Patton cheers animatedly, and Virgil is silent.

“If I may ask… why now? Is this not your second year of college? Why would you leave now?” Logan asks. Patton’s expression saddens.

“Oh… well, I’m transferring to a better medical school after this semester and- I couldn’t leave Virgil here without any help- he waited for me so we could go here together and… I can’t leave with no safety net for him,” Patton says tearily. He wipes at his eyes and goes to squeeze Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil sinks deeper into his hoodie. Logan feels deeply uncomfortable.

“So thank you, Logan: you seem so nice, and so smart, I’m sure that I’ll be leaving him in capable hands,” Patton assures him, and then looks at the time mounted on the wall, “Oh! You must be going now, huh? I’ll walk you out,”

“Goodbye, Virgil. I look forward to seeing you soon,” he says curtly, before letting Patton lead him back to the door. As he ties up his shoes, Logan opens his mouth hesitantly.

“You are… you are a good brother, taking care of your younger sibling like that,” he does his best at comforting. Patton laughs at him.

“No, no! Virgil’s my older brother by two years. Technically, he should be at your level: but he waited for me to go. We’re really close and we help each other out so… Goodness, that’s the reason why I’m doing all this, reaching out to the teachers and organizing things for him. I want to -no, I need to- help him out. Like he’s helped me,” Patton explains. Logan blinks. This means two things.

Patton feels guilty. He feels oh so guilty, and Virgil probably feels betrayed. Betrayed and alone.

Virgil and Logan are the same age.

~~~~~~

The end of the first semester comes quickly. It was only a few weeks away, and Logan spends minimal time with Virgil: giving the brothers space to make amends before he comes between them.

On the last day of the quarter, Logan makes his way to their dorm room. Music had been stuck in his head all day: his soulmate singing the same song over and over again. It’s beautiful, of course, but nagging as he tries to focus. Logan debated singing a little “shut up please” but even that little snippet of musicality makes him nervous.

And what would his soulmate think? What would he think, after years of silence, that the first thing he gets in return is a demand for silence? Logan shivers at the thought of it. The song goes: Time is an illusion that helps things make sense, so we’re always living in the present tense- it seems unforgiving when a good thing ends, but you and I will always be back then.

Logan likes the scientific simplicity of it, and finds himself humming along as he swiftly walks across the courtyard to the dorms. His soulmate’s voice rises with the music: piano, he thinks. His soulmate is playing the piano and singing over and over and over again. In his mind's eye, Logan wishes he could comfort him: do the soulmate things that soulmates do. Embrace him and calm him and quell his fears. The music fades in time for him to get to the dorms: Patton’s already outside, bags packed.

Logan is giving, or rather attacked, with a hug from Patton.

“You are leaving now, yes?” he says, trying to make it seem like he’s not worming out of the embrace despite his discomfort. Patton releases him after a moment, worrying at his lip.

“Yeah! I’ll visit as often as I can, call me if ANYTHING happens, and-”

“Patton,” Logan grips his shoulders, “I can handle this. Go on now,” Patton nods tearily.

“You promise you’ll take good care of my brother? You have to- to pinky promise, because if anything happens to him it’s going to be my fault,” Patton wipes his eyes, and there’s that intimidating that he always knew Patton had the potential for: “You have to promise. I love Virgil more than anything or anyone in the world. He is the kindest, most thoughtful person. You may not see it right now, but he is. Virgil is the best person I know. You have to help him when he needs it, even if he doesn’t want it,”

“I promise, I’ll perform to the very best of my ability Patton,” Logan says steely, “I promise. You go and pursue your dreams.” Logan and Patton both glance up to the window of the dorm that Virgil’s in: the curtains are closed, and Patton sighs. Gives Logan a meaningful look.

Patton juts his pinky in his face, and Logan exasperatedly links his. Patton’s face brightens, and leaves to the nearby road where a taxi awaits. In Logan’s head, a new song begins. It starts with a guitar and then continues with his soulmate’s angelic voice: “Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe-”

Logan watches him go for a moment: and then he starts walking into the dorms to check in on Virgil. Logically, he’s probably feeling due amounts of stress and uncertainty in the new situation.

“Nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world…. images of broken light, which dance before me like a million eyes, they call me on and on across the universe,”

Logan’s heart feels full, an odd feeling: there’s something about the music and the situation that blends and rushes into his chest so wonderfully. Perhaps this is what it’s like to be with your soulmate: life and soul singing together in perfect harmony.

“Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box, they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe,”

Logan takes the stairs step by step, enjoying the music as long as he can.

“Nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world, nothings gonna change my world…” the music stops all at once, guitar too: Logan misses it for only a moment, before he remembers that it’s no passing street musician but rather his soulmate. His soulmate who sings so perfectly. The soulmate he’ll never meet.

He arrives at the Williams’ dorm- err, now just Virgil’s, and raps on the door. He waits for a “coming!” but then realizes his mistake. He waits patiently for Virgil to open it: and when he does, it’s only a crack. Logan stares back at the scrap of Virgil’s face he can see.

His lips purse.

“Would you like to let me in?” Logan asks gently. Virgil’s face tightens nervously, and he signs something quickly.

“I’m not okay right now,” he says. Logan swallows.

“Can I help with anything? Or should I leave?” he keeps his voice as soft as he can. Virgil’s head shakes a vehement ‘no’.

“Virgil… I-” he tries to come up with a reason, a real reason for him to stay. There is none. If Virgil says he doesn’t need any help then there’s no reason to stay. Logan swallows. “If you have no need for me… then I… I should leave,” he sighs. The door closes shut behind him with a click.

Logan’s moving to leave when he has a new idea. He raps on the door once more. Virgil’s face peers through the crack in the door again. He rolls his eyes at Logan.

“What is it?” he signs.

“Fancy a game of chess?”

~~~~~

Unsurprisingly, Virgil is a silent but deadly good chess player. He’s forward thinking and takes no risks that he can’t counter the backlash of. Logan is thrilled to play with someone so astute.

“Checkmate,” Logan announces, after a long and difficult game. Virgil huffs in mock indignation, and knocks down his own king. “You’re quite proficient at this, Virgil. We should play more often.”

Virgil blushes, signing a quick “Thank you” and then zipping his hoodie up further. Logan finds himself smiling at him.

“Would you like to go again? Or do you have work to do that I can help you with?”

“Again,” Virgil signs, hands quivering slightly. Logan chuckles and resets the board for another go. Virgil bites at his nails and waits. It’s too quiet without Patton’s incessant yammering. Logan decides to ask the first question that comes to mind.

“Do you have a soulmate?”

Virgil makes sweater paws and ducks into his hoodie more.

“Oh- I’m sorry, is that a bad topic-”

“No. I do not have one.”

There’s been cases of people ‘missing’ soulmates: only to find that they were dead, or that they didn’t want a soulmate and merely ignored them. Or like Logan, who don’t sing whatsoever.

“Ah… well, that’s a shame, Virgil. You’d be amazing to have as a soulmate, I’m sure,”

Virgil flushes deeper, if it’s possible, and hugs himself. Logan finds himself smiling again: Virgil’s cute.

Perhaps he said it out loud, because then Virgil’s growling at him and signing a “Fuck you, I am not!”

“Maybe just a little bit?” Logan teases, he teases, such an odd and different thing for him to do. But teasing Virgil is different. It’s like another game and Logan doesn’t feel out of place or silly: it’s still serious.

“No! No!”

“I think you are,”

“No! What? No!”

“Hmm,” Logan merely says, finishing the chess board.

~~~~~

His soulmate has a crush. A sort of crush that’s teetering constantly between deep pining and attempting to squash it.

It’s apparent, between the lines of “Fly Me To The Moon” and “despair”. In other words, I love you. Cause it’s not romantic, I swear. Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore. I want you to be here, but please don’t come near. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore. It’s not love, I swear.

Today’s song is “Raincoat” (according to the internet) and if that’s not appropriate, Logan doesn’t know what is. Once more, Logan wishes he has the confidence to thank him for the soundtrack that’s been accompanying his life as it rises in joy each day.

These songs… they’re a quick change from the dreary songs that had been going on a few weeks ago. Logan, ironically, doesn’t mind the sappiness, actually. Usually he would, but it fits his recent joy.

Virgil’s exactly what he wanted, what he could’ve never hoped for. He’s smart, he’s clever, he’s shrewd, he’s not touchy, he respects boundaries…

It’s perfect. Logan goes and sticks with him each and every weekday after classes end. They work together, they read together, they watch True Crime shows, they eat dinner together, they play chess and cards and backgammon and Clue and everything possible. They talk: and miracles upon miracles, Virgil seems to like him.

Today is different. Today is a weekend: there’s no real reason that Virgil should need him, he’s never before, but he was invited to have lunch with him anyway. Even though it’s going to be snowing! Even though it’s freezing! Even though in any other instance Logan would be curled up at home with a good book and Star Trek. And rather… rather they’re going to get Hot Pot at the small university town in Logan’s ramshackle car. It gives Logan the strange feeling of hope rising in his chest that Virgil wants him around as much as he does. That Virgil enjoys it as much as he does.

Enjoys the company, the quiet, the whole thing.

He doesn’t even have to go up to the dorm: Virgil’s waiting for him outside the building. Logan waves after he gets out of his secondhand car: Virgil offers a small one in return and walks up to him. He’s all bundled up in several mismatched layers: though he still wears aggressively ripped jeans with skinny knees peeking through, he’s wrapped in several warm coats.

Logan gets a sudden urge to press a kiss to his shaggy hair and hug him tightly, the slouching man at the ideal height. He squashes it quickly, blushing anyway at the mere thought of such romances, and lets Virgil into the passenger seat without looking at him. Virgil taps his hands on the front of the car, a rare grin donning his features. Logan swallows.

Virgil has never looked more beautiful than he does right now. With a smile and all of those layers and his hood just barely adorning his head. Logan notices now that his makeup is different today: a sparkling purple rather than the usual dark tones.

“Where to, Virgil?”

“I do not care!” he signs excitedly. Logan chuckles.

“How about sushi, then?”

Virgil smiles and nods. Logan sets the car into reverse, and then drives out of the parking lot. Virgil fiddles with his fingers. I should say something…

“Would… would you like to listen to any music, Virgil?” Virgil’s head bobs an exuberant yes, and Logan gestures to the old car radio: Virgil fiddles with it, and finally ends up with a channel that’s not staticy.

‘You’d be like heaven to touch… I want to hold you so much,’ At the beginning of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ Virgil sinks into his hoodie: Logan casts his eyes off the road for a second, glancing at Virgil- the scrap of his face that he can see is ruby red. At least the car isn’t silent anymore, he thinks to himself. Virgil’s quiet (well, not signing), and the song plays to completion and fades into “This Guy’s In Love With You”. Virgil, if it’s possible, seems to hide even more.

“We’re almost there, do you want me to turn it off, Virgil?” Logan suggests.

“It’s fine.”

“If you say so… seems like you’re hiding but…”

“Fuck you.”

‘Say you’re in love, in love with this guy… if not, I will just die’

Logan turns off the radio as they turn into the parking lot of the local sushi joint. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to Virgil.

“Eat in or take out?”

“To go,” he signs. Logan hums: maybe one day, they’ll be able to go out together for a meal. Virgil doesn’t like public places due to his anxiety, and Logan doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable and he’d never push him but… it is a classic ‘friend’ activity to go out for dinner together. It would be nice, but having a friend generally is nice and he’s not about to lose him over some stereotype.

Virgil’s not ordinary, so why would their friendship be?

“Come now, Virgil, let’s order,” Logan gets out of the car, helps Virgil out, locks the car. It all feels very normal, very quaint. He has to admit that he enjoys it, despite what one would think if they met him.

Walking into the restaurant is normal. Ordering food (ordering for both of them)? Also normal. They wait for their sushi in the front, Virgil warming his hands by blowing on them.

“Do you enjoy spending time with me?”

The question bursts out of Logan with little warning: he doesn’t even register that he said it until after it’s out of his mouth. He’s about to rescind the words when Virgil responds.

“Yes. Yes. I love spending time with you,” He blushes slightly, looking away, “And you make me feel safe.”

Logan blushes: he grabs the newly presented food and goes back to the car- but Virgil grabs his sleeve.

“Do you want to sit in the park?” Virgil asks, nervous after the flurry of hands.

“It’s freezing outside,”

“I know,” he signs, his expression saddening slightly.

“There’s no one out here.”

“I know, I can see. I’m mute not blind,” Virgil rolls his eyes, heading for the car already. Logan chuckles and clasps his shoulder: Virgil stiffens under his touch.

“I don’t think I said I didn’t want to,” he teases. Virgil’s eyes widen, and then a smile creeps up his lips.

“Okay!” Logan and Virgil walk right next to each other into the park: Virgil signs quite fast that he rather likes the cold, and that the skeletal trees remind him of his favourite movie, and does Logan like Nightmare Before Christmas, and what about stop animation? And halloween movies?

Logan chuckles and answers all of his questions, slowly fielding them back to him. Virgil never talks this much when they’re in public. It’s nice to see him opening up, Logan thinks to himself pridefully, Is this my doing?

He doesn’t mean to preen, but it happens anyway.

“Why are you doing that with your chest?”

“Oh, apologies, Virgil. It was accidental.” Logan reels himself back in: it’s so strange to have to do that. He’s never done anything like that, something that breaks his front stage appearance. It’s odd: like there’s another, smaller, smiling, animated Logan inside of him. A little Logan that’s been ignored and malnourished for a while now. Virgil giggles though, and Logan stops amidst his musings to stare at him.

That was… cute. Why was that cute? Genuinely cute, not teasingly.

Virgil catches him staring and glares at him, though his cheeks flush.

“What are you looking at, nerd?”

“Ah- it’s nothing. Would you like to sit down here and eat?” Logan points to a random bench: Virgil shrugs and sits, holding his arms open for his food. Giving him his food and sitting down next to him is a battle of wills: if it was another other person, in any other situation, he’d excuse himself and leave. But it’s Virgil, and the man looks so thrilled to just sit with him: it’s his friend. He’s not abandoning him. Even if his emotions are crawling up his throat.

The silence is amicable as they eat. The first flakes of snow start to fall, and Virgil’s attention is drawn to them immediately. He watches the snowflakes float down slowly, enraptured.

“You’d think you’ve never seen snow before,” Logan chuckles.

“Fuck off,” Virgil signs fluidly. He doesn’t even look at Logan, simply eats his sushi and quickly stands to spin in the snow. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” Logan agrees, as he watches Virgil laugh quietly and kick the powder around, as Virgil’s eyelashes are decorated with snowflakes, as he holds his tongue out like a child, as Virgil looks so free and unafraid in his lonesome company… “It’s quite beautiful indeed.”

~~~~

Patton’s coming back in two weeks. The second semester is almost over, spring finally showing her colours after a frigid winter, and Logan’s almost nervous. The music in his head doesn’t help whatsoever to calm him. What if something changes? It’s not like Patton’s staying, he’s allegedly very happy at his new school, but… Logan can’t help but worry at the idea that something in their dynamic will change irreparably if Patton reenters.

There’s nothing you can do about it, he assures himself once again, Just keep doing your job. Logan’s class lets out early, and he takes a brisk jog to meet Virgil outside his class. By now, Logan knows his schedule by heart and knows where to meet him.

He waits outside the lecture hall, student after student exiting… he waits until it’s fifteen minutes after his class has ended. Frowning, Logan peeks inside: it’s devoid of people, even the professor.

“Virgil?” he calls out into the empty room fruitlessly. Panic starts to rise inside of his chest as he calls for the anxious man. “Virgil? Virgil, where are you?”

He searches each aisle of the lecture hall, calling Virgil’s cell phone. Virgil hates it when he calls him, but if he’d just pick up, it means he’s okay. Logan feels incredibly antsy as he runs out of the room, sprinting at full force (he’s a strong man) around campus calling for Virgil. He wipes at his face: he can’t have the budding tears block his vision. He needs to find Virgil.

“Virgil, where are you? Virgil, I need to find you. Virgil, please please be okay,” he dashes around a corner and drives his heels in to stop.

Virgil.

His beloved hoodie in a secluded alleyway.

Logan reaches down and grasps it: he’d never leave it alone, let alone in a public place. Logan shakily picks it up into his hands, feeling the fabric: it’s dirtied. He gently folds it and puts it under his arm.

He’s starting to walk away when he hears the muffled shout and the sound of a punch’s impact.

“Oh, so you want to talk now, huh?” Another punch. “Fucker.”

Logan walks purposefully in the direction of the noise: two large women and one large man are whaling on Virgil, kicks and punches and spit, who’s curled up on the paved ground in the fetal position. Logan takes out the first buff woman with a strong punch to the side of her face, the second with a well placed kick and shove. The man runs away, pulling his fellows along with him.

“Virgil, they’re gone now. Are you alright?”

Virgil makes a broken sob, holding his midsection with his eyes downcast, and spits out some blood. Logan sighs and bends down to Virgil’s level, and wipes his mouth with a handkerchief from his book bag. He gives Virgil his hoodie (which he takes to immediately) and rubs his back.

I should’ve gone after them, made them pay-

“OH MY STARS, are the two of you alright?” a fanciful voice calls out from the entrance of the alley way.

“We just saw a trio of assholes running away with some wicked bruises-”

“Remus, that’s not the point!” The two boys walk into the alley, one worrying with a red letterman’s jacket and coiffed hair, the other (Remus) morbidly interested with a large denim jacket and wild hair sticking up every which way. They have the same face, unnervingly, though the wilder one sports a partially-grown mustache and the other has a scar though his eyebrow.

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite. Are you okay?” Remus asks, extending a hand to Virgil. Virgil looks away and tucks into Logan more. Remus retracts his hand with a shrug. Logan gives the both of them steely looks.

“If you’re here to promote any more harm or mockery, I advise you to leave concurrently.”

“Ooh, put those big words away, Daddy,” Remus mocks. His brother elbows him roughly.

“Remus, be nice. They’ve clearly been through quite the ordeal! Greetings, I’m Roman, this is Remus. We’re in Virgil’s class, and we saw him being… escorted, one could call it-”

“Forcibly swept away!”

“-Thank you Remus, out of class so we followed along after reporting it to the professor. He seems to be in quite a state: is there anything we can do?” Roman finishes, rolling his eyes at his twin. Logan sighs and adjusts his glasses. He doesn’t want to accept their help. He can take care of Virgil by himself. But…

He takes a closer look at the poor beaten man, at his bloodied mouth and shirt and his bruises and scrapes and thinks beyond him.

“I thank you for reporting it to the teacher. This is a heinous act, and I loathe to think of what would’ve happened if I arrived later or not at all,” he attempts to look thankful, but judging by their expressions, it doesn’t work. Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Could you alert the on campus clinic that we’ll be coming? One of you? The other can make sure they don’t come back as I take Virgil there,” with that, Logan takes a deep breath and gets to his feet, holding Virgil tightly in his embrace. Virgil turns into him, making a pained sound.

It breaks Logan’s poor heart. My friend, my friend, my friend- he’s hurt.

“It’s alright, Virgil. I’ve got you, you’re safe now,” he whispers to him.

“Cute!” “Ick.”

“Oh come on now, Remus, they’re precious!”

“I came over here for the bloody beat down! Not touchy feely lovey-dovey!”

“I will never understand you. You’re absolutely vile,”

“Ah, look in the mirror lately?”

“Excuse me,” Logan growls, diverting their attention from their bickering, “Are you going to help or not?”

“Ugh,” Remus rolls his eyes, “I guess I’ll go to the clinic.”

“Goodbye, Remus- you see, he’s a bit of a pain, always been that way,” Roman sticks his tongue out childishly at Remus, who returns the gesture in a more lewd fashion. “Alright, let’s help the emo up,” Roman extends his hands to help: Logan turns away, holding Virgil alone.

“He is not emo. Virgil is a selective mute,” Logan frowns at Roman.

“Aha, it’s just a mere quip!”

“Oh,” Logan swallows. They walk in near silence to the infirmary: How weird it is that the silence with Virgil seems familial and warm but with this Roman it feels charged and uncomfortable.

“You aren’t a very funny guy, are you?”

“Excuse me?” Logan glares at him through his glasses, holding Virgil tighter.

“Take no offense, but I mean… you’re very uptight! Serious. Grumpy. Straight to the point. I’ll stop prattling on synonyms, but I think you get the point now,” Roman explains.

“I- I’ve never thought about it that way. I presume you’re right,” he frowns. Logan’s never felt like any of those: he just likes working. And now he feels foolish: perhaps that’s the reason that he’s never gotten anywhere socially. Is it his inability to “quip”?

Would Virgil be happier with him if he could?

As if he heard his thoughts, Virgil winces in pain in his arms.

“Oh! Virgil. Should I hold you differently? Are you uncomfortable?” Virgil looks up at Logan blearily: his eyes open in recognition and a full-face blush breaks out all over his face. Virgil takes a bruised hand to hide his face.

“Awe look at ‘im! Debbie Downer is shy!” Logan whirls over to glare at Roman’s almond eyes angrily. Virgil turns away.

“Don’t talk to him that way,” he growls. Roman flushes and stammers.

“It was only teasing!”

“It was hurtful, and the last thing he needs right now is that. So do me a favor and leave those quips to yourself,” he reprimands.

“Yes, sir,” Roman salutes. Logan looks away from him and back to Virgil.

“Hey. Why did those thugs hurt you anyway?” he questions. Virgil frowns. “You don’t have to tell me-”

“No- I will. I was- I was singing in the bathroom,” he signs shyly.

“Wait- how could you-”

“Sometimes I talk when I’m alone. Or sing. I’m nervous around people, when I’m by myself it’s okay,”

“Oh,” Logan shouldn’t feel so betrayed, he knows he shouldn’t: this is the way Virgil is, after all. He’s a selective mute. He can speak when he wants. And if he doesn’t want to speak around Logan well- it’s fine. It’s his choice.

It shouldn’t bother Logan.

“So those jerks beat you up purely for the angelic music of your soul? Their cruelty knows no bounds, if they were to hurt you for communicating with your soulmate! How dare they, those vile, disgusting, cotton headed ninny muggin ruffians!” Roman supplies, filling Logan’s silence with declarations of war. Virgil laughs slightly at Roman, rolling his eyes. Logan swallows his questions, his pleas for “what about me?”.

Virgil can like whoever he wants. It doesn’t have to be just Logan.

~~~~

Virgil had asked Logan to drive him to the airport to pick up Patton. Logan wanted to say no, to say that he didn’t want to, hell, just leave him at the airport but… Virgil’s face betrayed his excitement, and Logan couldn’t put him down.

So now he’s waiting in the pick up zone with his car, waiting for Virgil to come back and completely ignore him again. Logan blinks.

Is that what this is about?

Does some part of Logan, some illogical part that manipulates his feelings, worry that Patton would mean Logan’s out of the picture? Logan grips the steering wheel. It’s Virgil’s choice! If he wants to hang out with Patton, sure. Sure. It’s fine.

Logan makes a low growl.

It’s not fine.

~~~~

And… there was nothing he could do. He stopped coming to visit Virgil during the mid-semester break: why should he? Virgil was with Patton. He’s happy. He doesn’t need Logan around…

Logan hates it. He hates not going over each day, each class ending with Virgil’s tiny smile.

He hates his soulmate, whoever he is, for singing so sadly whenever he wakes up.

“What's the name of the game? Does it mean anything to you? What's the name of the game? Can you feel it the way I do? Tell me please, 'cause I have to know… I'm a bashful child, beginning to grow…”

“Shut up,” Logan tells him quietly each time he goes at it again, “Shut up. I don’t want your questions, I can’t answer them.”

Logan, for the first time in his life, isn’t happy doing his work. There’s no gratification from finishing something: there’s no hunched over man beside him gesturing wildly as he finishes so quickly. There’s no giggle as he presses his glasses higher on his nose: there’s no smack on the shoulder when he corrects his work. It’s so… so bland. Was it always like this?

Before Virgil, was it always like this?

Logan finishes his test and hands it in at the front: his professor gives him a confused look. Logan twitches as his soulmate starts to sing: “It's you I like… not the things you wear…”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Adleman? You seem… listless, lately. Distracted. And you took all of the allotted time to finish your work- quite out of the ordinary, I’d say,”

“I assure you, sir, everything is normal,” he merely says, before adjusting his bag and exiting the classroom.

“Not the way you do your hair… but it's you I like,”

“Shut up,” Logan murmurs under his breath, walking stiffly with his head down down the hall. His soulmate’s voice is beautiful, as beautiful as always… but Logan can’t bear it. He’s already dealing with so much! To hear his soulmate’s longing notes doesn’t help. If anything, it exasperates his issues. Logan is grumbling under his breath when he hears it: and suddenly, all his issues get worse.

Patton’s in a classroom, with his teacher and a few students, singing to them:

“The way you are right now… way down deep inside you…”

“The way you are right now… way down deep inside you…” and his soulmate croons at the same time.

“Not the things that hurt you, not your toys; they're just beside… you,”

They both stop at the same note, and Logan swallows.

Patton.

Patton, smiley, hazel-eyed, exuberant, talkative, Patton, is his soulmate? Patton, the Patton he’s been mildly despising for the past few days.

I can’t believe it. But I presume… he has a right to know. And maybe we can make this work?

“Ah… Patton,” Patton’s face whirls to Logan’s in the door, and his face lights up. Logan can’t help but set his face: aren’t soulmates supposed to elicit some kind of joy in their partners? When they finally figure it out, isn’t it supposed to be some revelation?

“Logan!! How nice!! I haven’t seen you this whole trip, what a delight! Virgil’s been all out of sorts without you around, it seems,” Patton grins, sliding off the desk he was sitting on and walking over to Logan.

“I- I think- I think you’re my soulmate,” he stammers.

“What?”

“I- I heard your singing, in my head, as you were singing in here-”

“Oh my god. No, no, Logan,” Patton smiles at Logan tearfully, his hands landing on his shoulders, “That was Virgil. I started singing that song because Virgil was singing it again when I left.”

“That’s- that’s impossible how-”

“If you need any more proof, then just look at my soulmate: I met him at school, he flew in after me,” Patton smiles dreamily and waves at a man sitting in the corner, typing on his phone: he has two black forearm crutches and deep burn scars across the left side of his face.

“Hullo,” he greets from the other side of the room, “I’m Janus. Pleasure, fellow Patton soulmate,” Logan’s mouth dries as Patton giggles.

“It’s really Virgil. That- that makes a lot of sense but- I can’t believe it-”

“Okay, how about this, Lo?” Logan’s nose scrunches at the nickname, “I’m going to send a message to Virgil: and you go sneak back to the apartment. He’ll sing. It’ll match up. Then you have to confess. He’s thought he’s been alone… for so long. He’ll be so happy: so thrilled to have a soulmate… even more so if it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patton shakes his head, chuckling. Logan looks away: his teary eyes are too much for him. Logan clears his throat.

“Let our third go, Pat!” Janus calls, his voice smooth. Logan casts him a glare, though he blushes, and walks off. Thousands of thoughts swirl through his head, clouding his vision. He almost loses his way to the dorms. His mind is so full, so so so full, and then a voice breaks through it all.

“If I could ride a bike, I’d zoom around the world, with you sitting there behind me…”

Logan’s breath hitches. If that’s Virgil, he hates not seeing it before. Meeting him and not loving him right away. Not beating around the bush. But embracing him with everything he is, using all he knows to help all he needs.

“I’ll take you to places, past several faces… just livin life so carefree. If I could sail a boat, I'd cruise across the seas, a sweet adventure for us two,”

His pace increases as he gets to the dorms: he runs up the stairs maybe a little too fast. The music increases in volume but perhaps it’s in his head. The door to Virgil’s room is cracked open.

“I'll be Jack and you Rose, just please don’t let me go, cause I'll be nothing without you. Oh when you call me… I'm drifting on clouds, like I'm dreaming,”

Logan’s footsteps falter as he peers through the door. Virgil, with a guitar, singing those notes so sweetly. It matches up in his head, it matches perfectly, and despite himself, Logan starts to er up. It’s perfect harmony, it makes his heart swell and the whole world brightens.

This is what it’s supposed to be like. This is my soulmate. Virgil’s voice rises and falls, and it becomes so mind numbingly soft.

“But in the morning, I'll wake up and see that you're stuck… here with me,” Virgil sings, his voice sad, “If only you knew, what I would do for you. I'd jump up and hold you… so tightly…” Virgil sobs, “Logan. Logan. I’m sorry. Whatever I did. I’m sorry. I miss you.”

Logan’s chest pulls. His voice is like an angel. Virgil, his soulmate, wants him back. Everything he thought… was wrong. He needs to tell him, he needs to-

No. No, it would embarrass both of them, and Virgil’s anxious. He needs to do it in a way that would make no room for error, no room for suspicion of any foul intent.

Logan… needs to sing.

~~~~

It’s all planned out, only a few days later. The sun is out, the weather is warm. Patton has Virgil entertained, introducing him to Janus in the front lawn. Roman and Remus are keeping people away in their respective fashions so that they have privacy. Logan adjusts his tie, getting ready in their apartment. He wants to have the song at it’s apex before meeting him as his soulmate.

Logan clutches the ring in his pocket: a customary soulmate ring, black and fitted to Virgil’s finger. They haven’t been together, and he doesn’t have to accept it of course but… he wants to do this right.

This has to be perfect.

He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to sing.

“I'm nothing special, in fact I'm a bit of a bore… If I tell a joke, you've probably heard it before,” Logan sings softly. He chuckles- something so foriegn to him, so averse to what he wanted to do just a week ago- and he doesn’t sound bad. As he sings the next few lines, he runs out to the window by the elevators and can just barely make out Virgil on a picnic blanket rising to his feet and looking around confusedly. Logan carefully walks down the stairs, taking his time as he goes:

“So I say- thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing. Thank you for all the joy they’re bringing: who can live without it? I asked in all honesty, what would life be- without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it… to me,” he sings, breaking out into the fresh air. Logan sings the next few stanzas under his breath, making his way to Virgil’s picnic spot. Virgil’s standing up, shaking Patton’s shoulder and signing wildly.

“I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair: I wanna sing it out to everybody…. What a joy, what a life, what a chance!” his voice rises as he nears the grass, heart beating wildly.

Virgil’s fallen to his knees, his crying sounding even from where Logan stands, dozens of feet away.

“Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing. Thanks for all the joy they're bringing. Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty… What would life be? Without a song or a dance what are we? So I say thank you for the music,” he’s suddenly close, standing at Virgil. Virgil looks up, tears running down his face. He gasps: he smiles: he laughs. “For giving it to me.”

Virgil stumbles to his feet, and wraps his arms around Logan’s middle. He chuckles, and hugs him back, squeezing him tightly. Virgil cries into his chest, hiccuping and laughing all the same.

“So I say,” he rubs his back, and presses a light kiss into his hair, “Thank you for the music, for giving it… to me.”

There’s no fanfare, no wild confetti or cheering. It’s quiet, as Patton and Janus laugh and Virgil tearily accepts his ring before digging back into his chest. It would be perfect like this but then…

“Logan,” Virgil whispers, hiding in his chest, “Logan.” It’s so quiet, but it makes his heart burst in joy. Virgil didn’t have to say anything, he would love him anyway, but it shows. It shows the trust.

“Surprise,” he whispers back, pulling him in closer. “Thank you. For everything, Virgil.”

~~~~~

The End! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed!

Taglists:

Anything & Everything: @myraiswack, @blindtaleteller, @head-over-heart, @karushinekomiya

Sides of the Sanders: @a-goldengirl-in-a-condominium246

If you enjoyed, please reblog- it truly means the world.

Want to be tagged on other works in this genre or just generally? Asks, DMs, or comments are all wonderful.

Liked it a whole coffee’s worth? Here’s my Ko-fi.

#analogical #mociet #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fandom #soulmate au #sanders sides soulmate au #logan #virgil #patton #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thank you for the music #logan x virgil

311 notes · View notes