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zepskies · 4 months

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Being Human - Part 4 (Finale)

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: (I decided to release this a bit early.) Here we are, friends! The final chapter...

Chapter Summary: Ames White captures you, forcing Alec to his knees.

Word Count: 4,300

Tags/Warnings: Peril and violence, angst, major hurt/comfort, but also major fluff...

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 4: Reckoning

Terminal City is a region on the edge of the city. The chemical and biohazardous waste that was dumped there after the Pulse makes ordinary humans sick, but for the immune transgenics, it’s the perfect spot to carve out a sanctuary.

Alec has been visiting the sector frequently, working with Max, Joshua, and other Manticore escapees to build up its infrastructure. Joshua lives here full-time now, as it’s safer for the half-canine transgenic and others like him, who don’t “look” human.

Today, Alec’s working with Mole and Joshua on ammunitions. Regardless of what any of them look like, they are all soldiers, in one way or another built and trained for warfare.

As much as Alec doesn’t want to see it, the tensions between “ordinaries” and transgenics are mounting, especially in Seattle.

He checks his watch and realizes that he’s late to meet you.

“Shit. I gotta go,” he says.

“Where’re you going?” Max asks. She has a perceptive eye, but Alec doesn’t reveal anything. He revs up his motorcycle and dons his helmet.

“Just going to meet someone,” he says, purposely vague. He doesn’t want another lecture from her.

The truth is, he’s dreading this. He knows when he sees you, it’ll be damn near impossible to maintain his distance. He should’ve just met you at your apartment, but surrounded by your things, your familiar scent etched into every fiber of your place…it would buckle his resolve.

So he heads back on his motorcycle all the way home.

Something’s off.

He instinctively knows after he climbs up the stairs to his apartment. He tests the door, and it opens without him having to unlock it.

You would know better than to leave the door open.

He pushes inside the apartment, and he’s greeted to a scene that drops his heart into his stomach.

His apartment is empty, but a table near the kitchen is knocked over. Glass liters the ground where it’s overturned, and on further inspection, he finds drying bloodstains on the glass and on the floor.

His heart beats faster as he takes in everything with wide eyes. He doesn’t smell gunpowder, or find anything else that would tell him what happened here.

He does find your purse, tossed by the couch in the living room.

Alec whips out his phone and calls your cell.

“Hello, 494.” A man’s voice—one that Alec would know anywhere. It prickles his skin with unease and makes his blood boil all at once.

“Ames White.” Alec’s teeth grind. “What game are you playing now?”

“This isn’t a game. It’s business,” White claims. “I have something you want. How much are you willing to pay to make sure she stays alive?”

Alec forces himself to calm down, even though his pulse is racing.

“What do you want?”

“You. And 452. With no bullshit on your end,” the agent replies. “Or this girl is going to pay that price for you.”

Alec’s breath becomes unsteady. “And if I comply, you’ll let her go. I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Oh, I won’t lie to you. She’s on her way to the lab as we speak. You see, they’re gonna want to analyze that abomination she’s carrying,” White says.

That steals the breath from Alec’s lungs.

His eyes grow wide as he puts together what the man is saying.

“But if you do comply,” he says, “I’ll make sure they let her deliver to term, at least.”

Alec’s throat tightens. Oh, God…

“You let her go, you son of a bitch!” he grinds out. His white-knuckle grip pops a few springs in the couch. He releases it and covers his face, pressing hard between his eyes. “She’s not part of this!”

“It seems she is, 494. I’ll send you the time and the place. Be there with 452.”

The line clicks. Alec’s breathing is harsh. He grips his phone so hard it nearly shatters, but he tosses it onto the couch and pushes his palms against the burn in his eyes. His jaw locks with the strain of clenched teeth. No, no, no, NO!

His phone chimes with a voicemail message. Alec grabs the phone and listens. It details coordinates and a meeting time: tonight, at midnight.

Alec makes another call with what remains of his phone.

“Max,” he says shakily. “I need your help.”

Alec barely resists pacing throughout Logan’s apartment while the latter types away, researching the coordinates Ames White provided for the meeting point. Their forced surrender.

Max perches on the corner of the couch with her arms crossed. She’s concerned for you as well, but she gazes at him with sympathy.

“We’ll find her, Alec,” she says.

Alec shakes his head.

“He could have her anywhere,” he gestures widely. “He could’ve already handed her off to whatever shady government agency he works for. Or with that damn cult, that in case you’ve forgotten, hates us. Like everyone else in this city.”

“Not everyone,” Max reminds him pointedly.

“Yeah, and look where we are now,” Alec retorts. “I told you this would happen!”

“Do you want to be right, or do you want to save her?” Max shoots back. “Now think. We’ve found bases of White’s operations before. Both for the agency, and the breeding cult.”

“I’m cross-referencing old locations,” Logan says. He’s been typing away at his computer for several minutes. “I can ask Asha and her people to join the search. And I can do an Eyes Only broadcast, encourage people to keep an eye out.”

Alec nods, but any outcomes of those plans will take time. Time you might not have.

They’ve been following anonymous tips for hours. Joshua and a few X5s and X6s joined the search for Ames White, and more importantly, for you.

Alec and Max have been working together without stopping even for a breath throughout the night. They only have one hour before they’re meant to be at the agreed meeting point: an abandoned building near the edge of the city. No doubt for their easy extraction.

Logan eventually calls Alec to tell him about a lab within a mile of the scheduled rendezvous point. There have been reports of late-night transports—locals calling in about strange noises, and in one case, what someone thought was a muffled gunshot.

Alec and Max agree to check it out, but they’re going to cut it close with the meeting time.

“Josh. Where are you, buddy?” Alec asks after calling his friend’s cell.

“I’m here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Here,” Joshua replies. He’s turned the corner and found his friends on the crossing of Avalon St. and Broadway, via his elite sense of smell.

“Good,” Alec smiles in relief. He pats his taller friend’s arm. “You’ve been a big help so far, but I need you for this. Wanna be part of the rescue party?”

“Yes,” Joshua nods, but his tone suggests he’s offended that Alec has to ask. “Help save your mate.”

Alec’s smile weakens. He doubts you’ll ever want to be that with him, ever again. But he’ll be damned if the government, or some damn breeding cult, is going to lay a hand on you.

Logan agrees to meet them there in his van for backup, while Josh hitches a ride on the back of Alec’s motorcycle. The three of them haul ass to the location of the suspected lab.

They approach a large, three-story dilapidated building. According to Logan, it used to be a mental health asylum. When the government bought it out, the facility was turned into a private lab.

Great, comes Alec’s sardonic thought. Hopefully the ghosts of whoever was tortured here won’t cause them any problems.

He and Max communicate silently through the militaristic hand motions they learned in their training to scope the place’s security, its entry points, and the best way for them to infiltrate the building. Although Manticore made Joshua, he hasn’t gone through the same training as most transgenics have.

He’s fortunate for it, but it means that Max has to direct him more carefully. He covers her and Alec as they approach the back entrance, which seems to be where they most often transport both cargo and people. Right now, there’s a large van waiting on standby.

Alec rips out the driver first, while Max and Joshua take on the other guards who start shooting. Alec comes around the back of the van, and when the first guard opens the back door, Alec tears the gun out of his hands and yanks him out. Alec uses the man’s body like a Kevlar vest as his two companies unload a clip or two. He punches them both out hard enough to hear the crack of bone.

The van inside is empty, but he sees a cot and several machines already ready and waiting to transport someone. He grits his teeth and slams the door shut on his way out.

“She’s not in there,” he tells Max. “If she’s here, she’s gotta be inside.”

Max and Joshua have taken out the outside guards, no problem, but he’s sure there’ll be more where that came from.

The three of them enter the building and race through the long hallways, slipping by lab technicians, doctors, and other staff. Anyone who attempts to stop them soon regrets it.

Alec is especially brutal and efficient with the federal security guards. Max watches him out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t yet warn him to pull his punches. The stakes are high, and she understands his anger and stress.

“There’s a file room,” Alec points to a door that’s labeled: RECORDS.

“I doubt they’ll have a file on her yet, especially if White’s trying to keep this under wraps,” Max says.

Joshua looks around and points across the hall. “Cameras?”

The other two look in the direction he’s pointing to, and they see what he sees—a room labeled: SECURITY.

Alec slaps a companionable hand on Joshua’s back, and they head for the security room. The guards are dealt with swiftly, being knocked out and piled against the back wall. While Joshua keeps a lookout, Max and Alec scan the many different camera feeds: focused on various hallways and lab subjects.

Alec scans each of them rapidly. He’s always been good with TV.

He finds you on one of the camera feeds and he points to it. “There she is! Room 204.”

You’re in a small, cell-like room, sleeping on what almost looks like a hospital bed. Except there’s a breathing mask held over your face, probably keeping you unconscious, and you’re attached to several monitors. It makes his heart sink and his spine tighten with rage, simultaneously.

“Let’s go,” Max says, but it’s not necessary. Alec is already halfway out the door.

They’re stopped at a four-way crossroads in the hall. In the center is Ames White.

“You’re smart, I’ll give you that,” he grants with an incline of his head. He takes a radio clipped to his belt and clicks it on, speaking into it. “Transport the girl. Make sure she’s sedated.”

Alec seethes. Before he can sprint headlong into a fight, Joshua stops him. Alec looks up at him in askance.

“You go. Find her. Leave him with me,” Joshua says. His blue eyes are sharp with predatory anger at the man who killed Annie Fisher.

Alec softens a fraction and nods in understanding. He shoots Max a look.

“Go, I’ll catch up with you,” she says.

Alec nods and races on ahead. He dodges bullets with the help of superior speed and crashes into each guard, taking them out with brutal force. He steals a gun off of one of them, and that saves him a lot of time and energy. He tries not to kill anyone, but he can’t think about holding back. He just needs to get to you.

He reaches the second floor, and finally to Room 204.

Two men are already in the room. He doesn’t want to open fire—the room is too small, the risk of ricochet too high. He grabs a knife from his belt and hurls it at the first man, who was poised to inject something into your arm. The second guard turns with his gun, but Alec is already moving too fast for human eyes to follow.

He breaks the man’s arm, followed by a swift uppercut. He takes the gun and hurls the man into the far wall, knocking him clean out as he slumps to the floor.

Alec breathes hard in the aftermath, but he begins to soften after his attention turns to you. He sets down the gun and takes in the sight of you, still dressed in jeans and a blood-stained shirt.

You’re heavily sedated and restrained by your wrists and ankles. You have a bandage wrapped around your forearm, along with brain and heart monitors attached to your forehead and chest, and an IV drip in your other arm.

Alec takes a breath, and he starts with the wires, removing the small suction cups from your body and disconnecting all the monitors. He takes off the mask and unclips the leather restraints.

The fury builds back up inside him at what they’ve already done to you. He doesn’t want to think any more on what they’d planned to do.

You must’ve been terrified, he thinks. He touches your cheek tenderly. His free hand hesitates, before it rests gently on your belly. He calls your name.

You don’t stir just yet. Your body is still under the effects of the sedation. So he carefully lifts you into his arms. He hears Max approach, and she’s there in the doorway by the time he turns around.

“Let’s go,” Alec says. His face is hard and angry while he carries you out.

They regroup with Joshua in the lobby, though even Alec stops short when he sees the carnage. Ames White’s body lays on the floor with unseeing eyes. His throat is torn out.

Joshua has blood in his teeth. He wipes at his face with the back of his arm, his eyes veering away from Max and Alec. Max blinks through her shock and tries to keep her mouth from falling open.

“Time to go,” Joshua says. His voice is heavy, but matter of fact.

“We’ll need to take his body, get rid of it later,” Max says, when she recovers. “We can’t let the police find him.”

They’ll blame us, is understood by them all. The police won’t have the full story, but it won’t matter. Appearances are everything.

Max finds a black body bag in a nearby storage closet and Joshua collects White, later hefting the full body bag over his shoulder.

They make their escape out the back of the building, where Logan is waiting with his van. Joshua deposits the body in the back, where he also climbs in. Max takes the front passenger seat while Alec carries you into the middle seat bed.

Nothing else feels right but to hold you in his arms. To stroke your cheek and wait, both desperate for, and yet dreading the moment you’ll open your eyes.

Because when you do, there’s a good chance that he’ll find your fear. Or worse.

“She’s going to be okay,” Max says to him, quietly. She’s twisted towards him in her seat.

“Maybe physically,” Alec counters. “I don’t know, Max. How did being held up in a lab affect your mental health?”

Her lips purse. “One step at a time, okay?”

Alec shakes his head and looks down at you. He tries to commit your peaceful face to memory, because he doubts that he’ll ever see it again after tonight.

Slowly, you start to wake.

At first, all you see is shadows and shapes of someone looming over you. Unconsciously you whimper and push at whatever holds you down, but the hold is gentle, the voice soothing.

“Shh, it’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s me,” he says.

Your eyes clear and focus as you blink…though they soon flood with tears. Relief takes over your fear. You see his concerned, handsome face, and your lower lip trembles.

“Alec,” is all you manage to say. You still have some trouble moving your heavy body, but you grab a fistful of his shirt and wince as you pull yourself up, just enough to bury your face into his chest. Your body shakes with the force of your sobs.

Alec gathers you up against him and shushes you gently, even as his heart clenches. He soothes a hand over your hair and your back.

“I’ve gotcha. It’s okay, you’re safe,” he says in your ear. He meets Max’s concerned gaze, then Joshua’s in the shrouded end of the car. Even Logan glances back through the rearview mirror as he drives.

Alec tries to block them out and focus on you. He holds you and comforts you for as long as you let him.

Eventually, you pull away to look at his face. You still have tears in your eyes, but now, it’s with a hue of uncertainty.

“The man…the agent who took me. He was looking for you,” you say. Your voice is weak and a bit coarse. You try to clear it.

Alec wishes he had some water for you.

“He’s gone. You don’t have to worry about him,” he says.

You let out a shaky breath, but you meet his gaze. “He said that you’re not…Alec, are you…”

He sighs; he understands the question you’re trying to ask.

“Yeah. Those freaks you hear people talking about on the news?” he says. “I’m one of ‘em.”

Your eyes widen as your breathing becomes more labored.

“I was made in a lab,” Alec confesses. “At Manticore, bred and trained to be a soldier.”

A transgenic.

Your hand falls away from his chest, and you take that in with an unblinking stare. He can see you trying to process all this.

You glance over at Max, who had been facing the front to give you and Alec the semblance of privacy. Feeling your gaze on her, she turns around and gives you a half-hearted smile.

“Hey, girl,” she greets. “Glad you’re okay.”

“You’re like him too?” you ask. Max nods.

Suddenly, everything makes so much sense. Why she and Alec have always seemed to share history and bickered like siblings. Why Max was friendly, but never truly your family. Why Alec had been so much of a mystery to you. Why he’d broken your heart.

“Joshua too,” says a deep voice from the back.

You turn your head and gasp as your eyes fly open wide again. Alec gives his friend a look over your head, but he tries to reassure you with a warm hand on your lower back. He hopes you can’t see the dried blood on Joshua’s snout.

Joshua breaks into a sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” he says, gesturing to his wolf-like face. “Bit of dog in my cocktail.”

You shake your head slowly. Your mouth opens and closes, but you try your best to get through your shock (and a lance of fear). Your head tilts as you consider his kind, very human blue eyes.

“You, um, your name is Joshua?” you say at last.

“Yes, Joshua,” he nods. “Rescue party.”

You blink at that. “You…helped get me out of there?”

He nods again, with a smile that flashes a few canine pointed teeth. You rest a hand over your wildly beating heart.

“Thank…you,” you manage.

Joshua bobs his head. “No problem. Saved Alec’s mate.”

If possible, your eyes widen further at that one. You turn back to Alec with raised brows. He offers a wan smile and a nervous chuckle. You notice, however, that he hasn’t let go of you. You’re also still sitting across his lap.

“This is what you were hiding from me,” you say, perhaps stating the obvious. Your heart clenches with pain. “Why you…”

He brushes his hand along your arm.

“I was trying to protect you,” Alec says. His brows furrow as his green-eyed gaze veers away from your face, with shame. “But I failed, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. None of this was supposed to happen—”

Some instinct has you reaching out to sooth your hand along his cheek, stopping his lips with your thumb. You stare up into his eyes, and they’re no longer guarded or distant. They’re the eyes you remember.

Whatever you are, you’re mine.

You lean up and press your lips to his.

After a beat, Alec’s eyes close, and he answers you in kind. His fingers sink into your knotted hair. You grip his shirt by the collar, and he wraps his arm securely around you.

With each new kiss, you feel more relieved. You don’t realize you’re trembling until he clasps your shaking hand against his cheek, to steady you.

Alec gives you one more searing kiss before he pulls you into his arms. It’s a hug you both need.

His eyes shut tight as he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. His lips find the mark he’d left weeks ago on your skin. It’s faint by now, but it’s still there. He takes deep breaths to calm himself, and you rub his back through it.

He realizes you’re comforting him now; a fact that makes him smile.

You’re mine, instinct tells him. And this time, he just can’t fight it.

Logan houses you and Alec for the night (or the morning, since dawn breaks by the time you all get back).

You’re exhausted, but you still force yourself to shower. You’ll have to remind yourself to thank Logan for the spare clothing, though you don’t bother with the sweatpants just opt for the large shirt as you roll into bed.

Alec isn’t far behind after he takes a quick shower. You force yourself to stay awake, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. His skin glistens when he eventually leaves the bathroom, and you watch him cross the bedroom with just a towel low on his hips. He shoots you a smile before he starts getting dressed.

“Logan says he’ll help us find a new place to live,” he says.

You slowly smile at that. “Us?”

“Well, you know, both of our apartments are compromised.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you reply. When he slides into bed next to you, you swim through the covers and inch closer to him. “I’m just glad it’s a together thing.”

Alec gives you an amused look, but there’s warmth in his eyes. He thumbs at your lower lip. Soon, his smile begins to fall.

“I didn’t want to get you caught up in this. In my crazy fucked up life,” he says.

“I know,” you sigh. “But I’m in it now. I’m in this with you. You realize that, right?”

He nods, though he doesn’t think he deserves it. Or you, for that matter.

He slips his arm around you, just the same. You rest your head against his shoulder and tap his chin.

“Alec, I don’t care what you are,” you say. “Transgenic or not, you’re the man I’ve always known.”

He lets out a subtle breath at that, chuckling.

“For better or worse, right?” he asks.

You smile. “I have something to tell you…though I’m pretty sure you already know.”

Despite a tremor of nerves, a slow grin spreads across his face.

“Tell me anyway,” he says. “I love surprises where I know the answer.”

You giggle. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” he nods with a smirk. “Just tell me, woman.”

Your hand drifts down to rest against his chest, and you tilt up your face so you can meet his dancing eyes. The fact that he seems genuine gives you enough courage to just…say it.

“Alec, I’m pregnant,” you tell him.

His smile grows.

“…Really?” he teases. “You sure it’s mine?”

You gasp, laughing, and you shove against his chest. You twist away from the cage of his arms, but he laughs and doesn’t let you so easily escape. You realize then how truly strong he is when he rolls you under him on the bed.

He dips down and claims you with a kiss. He shakes his head, because he never thought this would be his life. His hand sneaks under the sheets to rest over your lower belly, through the shirt. In turn, you cover his hand. You bite your lip with slight anxiety.

“You’re really okay with this?” you ask. “Even after everything we…this is a lot for us. Really soon.”

Alec gradually sobers, and he acknowledges that with a nod.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Honestly, I didn’t see this coming.”

You have to laugh a little at that. His lips tug at the corners, but as he squeezes your hand back, he stares directly into your eyes.

“But I’m not letting you do this alone. I… I love you,” he admits. “Sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

Tears burn in your eyes, but only one finds its way down your cheek. You take in a tremulous breath and nod.

“I love you too,” you reply. Though you can’t hide a different uncertainty when you look at him. “But if you leave me again…Alec, I can’t.”

He looks more vehement than you’ve ever seen him when he shakes his head, meeting your gaze.

“That’s not happening. I promise,” he says. “You’re stuck with me, baby. So much that you might just get sick of me.”

You utter a laugh through your tears, and you nod in acceptance. Alec smiles and wipes your cheek dry before he gathers you tighter into his arms, and presses a kiss to your forehead.

You relax against his chest with a sigh. His heartbeat thrums steadily under your cheek.

And you finally rest.

AN: And there we have it. 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Being Human.

I might come back to add bonus one-shots to this, if you guys are interested in seeing more of their story. 💜 But I hope you'll let me know what you think about how it all shook out here!

Series Masterlist

Alec McDowell Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Alec M. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989

@waters-2567 @iwishiwas-sleeping @jessjad @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @honeybabycherry @deans-spinster-witch @angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378 @nancymcl @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @longlostx11

#Reckoning #Being Human #Part 4 #alec mcdowell #alec mcdowell x reader #alec mcdowell x you #Being Human finale #alec mcdowell x female reader #logan x max #max guevara #original cindy #logan cale #ames white #Dark Angel #Jensen Ackles characters #Jensen Ackles #zepskies writes

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nishik1 · 1 year

Text

you jealous, nishimura? — jealous jealous jealous girl~ smau + written

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warnings: slight arguing, reader is oblivious and in denial, cursing

“Y/N-ah? are you alright?” Hanni asks, she had noticed you stopped eating and were now frowning at your phone, gripping it tightly.

“what..? yeah im fine, why?” you ask forcing a smile on your face, causing haerin to laugh.

“its just that you’re making that face” minji says as she takes a bite out of her food while pushing some hair out of her face.

“what face?” you scrunch your nose and all the girls laugh, gaining the attention of others in the restaurant.

“that face that you make when you get jealous!” Hanni laughs.

“i don’t make a face!” you try to argue which only causing them to laugh more.

“okay fine then, the face you make when you see Niki hanging out with another girl!” Danielle teases as she looks over your shoulder and at you phone before nudging you in the shoulder.

“shut up I don’t make a face and i’m not jealous!” you say, your face flushing slightly.

“oh yeah? then why are you stalking Eunchae’s twitter right now? hm?” Haerin pokes your cheek with her finger, causing you to side eye her. she immediately pulls her hand away and puts them up in defense, mumbling some sort of sarcastic sorry.

“I’m not stalking it! I’m just checking what they’re up to!” lies. you were totally stalking it.

“they seem a bit close, no?” danielle says, clicking on the bowling post. your eyebrows twitches slightly and grip on the phone tightens.

unbeknownst to you, hyein who was sitting across from you was texting this whole thing to the project YNKi group chat.

“you’re literally that one song from tiktok! you know the ‘jealous jealous jealous girl’ from lana del rey?” danielle says, taking out her phone and turning on the song. “Y/N’s a jealous jealous jealous girl~” she sings teasingly as you roll your eyes at her.

“I’m not jealous danielle!” you yell a bit louder than intended. you sigh and start poking at your food with your utensils.

“you get like this every time you see Niki talk to another girl!” danielle explains.

“i do not!” you argue.

“you do! Y/N we all know you’re jealous, you just dont wanna accept it!”

“how many times do i have to tell you, i’m not jealous!” you say loudly, gaining the attention of even more people.

“but you are! i can tell by the look on your face!”

“I’m not jealous danielle, i don’t know what look you’re talking about.”

“y/n are you being serious? i mean look in the mirror! your jaw is clenched, eyes narrowed, gaze harsh and you’re being all irritated!” Haerin says, getting slightly irritated with you.

“okay fine! fine yeah I am jealous!” you finally admit, you knew you were jealous the whole time, you just didn’t want it to be true.

“do you know why you’re jealous?” Minji asks, raising her eyebrows at you with a pleased smile on her face.

“no..? what are you talking about?” you tilt your head at her, her smile drops slightly before she lets out a sigh.

“Y/N I love you… but are you really that oblivious?” Hanni says with a sigh, only confusing you more.

“what do you guys mean?” you scrunch your face in confusion, not seeming to understand to understand what they’re hinting at.

“Y/N, its so obvious to all of us. you like Niki.”

NOTES: I feel like all of the new chapters suck 😭😭 I promise they’ll start getting better after the next chapter! also this chapter takes place during the last chapter,, if that doesn’t make sense what I mean is that while Niki and Eunchae are hanging out and posting this is happening at the exact same time! also for the side stories I do plan on releasing one on how Niki and Eunchae’s hangout went!

taglist: open! @en-chantedtomeetyou @yunicide @txtbrainrot @lizzyyaaaaaa @j-wyoung @beomgyusonlywife @spilled-coffee-cup @sungookie @telengraph @yajw @arizejkt19 @iea-tsand

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beautifulpersonpeach · 10 months

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I definitely want to back up that anon who thinks jimin is still in the kitchen! In truth I think all the boys are and will be for a long time. I see chapter two as the introduction of their solo careers meaning "hey we are gonna be bts but also be ourselves sometimes too" I think every solo moment we've seen is the beginning which I'm for one super excited about. Imagine a wave of brilliant solo work one year and then phenomenal group work the next. Chapter two is barely a year in and it's already a visual and musical feast. I think jimin loves quietly preparing so he can wow us when he feels the time is right and while I too get tense with the constant radio silence I know it's cause he'll blow my mind the second he wants too. I hope people who feel as if Jimin didn't get a chance to show his true might feel comforted in that he will never ever stop wanting to gag tf out of us. And I think the sentiment holds the same for bts.

***

Exactly this. Up until a few months ago I thought this was well understood, seeing as how BTS has operated till now, but clearly I was mistaken.

For posterity’s sake, to beat this dead horse one final time:

Would it be nice for each member’s release to not have any of the issues they’ve had? Of course. But it’s possible to inform the company of said issues, address what we can for issues due to various platform errors not due to the company, while not losing sight of the fact this is only 2023. We’re still only in 2023. As in, we’re literally just one year into Chapter 2, none of the guys are older than 30, and they keep saying they’re in this for the long haul. And this is the same group that has shown over a decade that their plans are most often and best executed in multi-year stints.

It’s bizarre to think a member’s solo career is over or even damaged at all in any real way because of one or more problems that happened during their first solo release. It betrays such a myopic, winner-take-all mentality that you have to be in a very specific headspace to fully buy into.

Jimin is clearly happy and working. He’s not blind and is seeing what is working for other members and what isn’t. They’re all checking out each other’s solo endeavours from time to time, cheering each other on and I’d say making notes on what they too could try, what works and what doesn’t.

If there’s one thing that’s become clear to me over the years, and even more so in Chapter 2, it’s that BTS is a team. A real team. I’ve seen a lot of k-pop groups over the years and there is no group today, present or past, that would reach the heights BTS has if any of the members sought to harm or sabotage or lord shit over the rest, with or without help from the company. None of the BTS members would put up with that shit. Their egos are too big, they’re so obviously their own people, very ambitious and so aware of it that I really wonder if people actually listen to these men when they talk. They know exactly what they’re worth, and they trust that all the other members know it too. If BigHit showed any real favouritism, BTS is the last group to allow that if it’s not something they themselves have already agreed to.

They all know what they’re doing. And if they don’t, then they’re the only people with the tools to figure it out. All the angst and anguish over this or that happening in fan spaces, has no real effect on these men sitting somewhere in Seoul planning out everything they’d like to do as solo artists and as part of BTS.

That’s my takeaway after watching them for as long as I have. I could be wrong, but I’ve not seen anything to suggest that yet. I’m not sure how long you’ve been in the fandom Anon, or what you think about other issues, but it’s nice to see you and the other Anon share this perspective. It’s a view that’s widely accepted in the fan spaces I’m in outside of Tumblr, but one that is sorely lacking in this space right now.

For no reason at all, one Jimin that I hope one day shows up in Chapter 2, 3, or 4:

Sidebar - A friend (who isn’t religious) was asking another friend recently about religion, because she’s now desperate enough to seek divine intervention for Jimin to find blonde hair dye, and to love it again.

We all know his best hair colour is black, but it’s just as true that a solid case has been made for him being a natural blonde.

Okay, that’s it today from my gallery.

That colleague i mentioned the other day, the one that recently got into BTS and now biases Jimin, we’re meeting up this weekend with my other friend, the musician that watched the Grammys with me last year and fell in love with Jimin. That’s an example of two people still finding out about Jimin, falling in love with his music and him as a person, and starting to support him. None of the noise online actually has any real bearing on the impact of real life people still learning about Jimin through his solo music and through BTS, and becoming his fans maybe for life.

If anyone finds themselves feeling overwhelmed in fandom, please zoom out. Please take time away and get some perspective. Everything I’ve said is obvious, none of it is rocket science or gleaned from any special insight. The noise online can suck you in, to prevent that, please detach, go back to their recent and old interviews to hear what they each feel about Chapter 2 and their solo work, listen to all of what Jimin expressed during his promotions, the good and bad. You’d be left with fewer anxieties. At least, that’s the case for me.

Thanks for this, Anon.

#BTS #bts chapter 2 #jimin #park jimin #BTS fandom #fandom behaviour

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andreafmn · 1 year

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Collision | Chapter 18

Word Count: 3.2K Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same. Chapter: 18/? Warnings: steamy scenes and foul language A/N: One day I'll manage both Twilight fics in a day, but today is not the day 😬😬 but hey, this is my longest story as of now, so hopefully if my creativity sparks I can consistently publish chapters like this story My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • BusinessIf you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click hereMake sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Please check if you're tagged in the story, I've reached the limit of tags on Twilight again it seems. 😅

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“Paul,” (Y/N)’s voice broke him out of his trance. She had started to slip on one of Paul’s many forgotten T-shirts, stretching her limbs after their latest encounter. “You’re staring.”

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled softly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” she smiled. “I sometimes forget they’re there.”

It had been five months since she had been hurt, four months since they had left, three since she had decided to dig herself out of the hole she had fallen into and put her life back on track. And she couldn’t look back –at least not without feeling her heart wrench inside her chest.

(Y/N) had made the decision to move forward in her life, to allow herself to release her past and unbind herself from the Cullens. She had allowed herself to be her first priority –even if meant that she had to release some people she thought the world of. But she had to push forward. Staying stuck in the mud was the last thing she wanted.

Instead, she had spent the past two months and a half investing her time between med school, her entanglement with Paul, the people at the rez, and her work at the hospital. And it had been just the shift (Y/N) had needed.

“I can’t believe I was the one that did this,” Paul whispered as he joined her side. His fingers traced the rough skin of her scars, an electric shiver running through his veins. A few months before, the three ragged lines that ran down her arm had not been there. And in a split second, he’d changed her for life. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I wish I could take that night back.”

“I don’t blame you, Paul,” she breathed. Shudders ran through her body as he kissed her shoulder, his warmth still something she had yet gotten used to. “I should have listened to my brother and step away.”

“But if I had been able to control myself I wouldn’t have scratched you,” he said, his hand running up and down her arm. “I should have been able to protect you. Protect you from myself.”

“It was no one’s fault, Paul,” she sighed at his touch, a teasing smile spreading across her face after. “And I’ve heard scars make people hot.”

“You were already hot,” he grinned. “Scars just added to it.”

“Okay, cool it, Casanova,” she chuckled. “I can’t go for a round three. I’ve got studying to do.”

“You and I both know that studying for you is a formality,” he groaned. “You’ve been axing all your tests. You already passed Step 1, and in a couple of weeks you’ll be in your clinical rotations.”

“I still need to study, Paul. I’ve gotta make sure all the information is fresh in my brain,” she explained. “And, still, it’s almost time for your patrol shift. So, you don’t have time for anything else either.”

“The bloodsuckers are gone,” he said before kissing her neck. “What is there to patrol?”

“Probably the people of this reservation,” she breathed, trying her hardest to suppress the moan that wanted to escape. But it was as futile as denying him. “But, maybe we can go for one more round.”

Paul could simply laugh in response and take her lips on his. His hands snaked to the small of her back, pulling her body until his legs reached her bed. (Y/N) grinned at him as he buckled against the mattress and used his surprise to push him onto the bed. He forcefully sat down, spreading his legs to allow (Y/N) a space between them. But she seemed to have another idea.

The Uley girl closed his legs together before placing her knees at either side of his thighs, straddling his lap. She placed her hands on his cheeks before kissing him again, telling him she was just as hungry for him as he was for her. (Y/N) would have never admitted it out loud, but Paul knew his way around a woman’s body —not that she had mi b to compare it to. Still, she would never say it to him, afraid that he would think it would lead to something else.

Almost every week she would check in with Paul to make sure they were still on the same page regarding their relationship, or rather lack thereof. The last thing she wanted was to lead him on and she had told him so over and over again. But every single time he would tell her that he understood what they were and what they would never be. That he could separate his feelings from his urges, and that at some point she would have to believe him.

Even with her doubts, she pushed on. She couldn’t deny that she loved the convenience of having him just a couple of houses down and the fact that he was all for their… benefits. Things just seemed to be working out perfectly for her, and she continually overthought her way into thinking that the universe would mess everything up.

Still, instead of dwelling on what could happen in the future, she had started to enjoy things as they happened in the moment. And at that very instant, (Y/N) had started to deepen the kiss between her and Paul. Her hands ran through his short hair, gripping and pulling softly at the dark brown strands. At the same time and unconsciously, her lower half started grinding onto his lap, searching for that much-wanted friction.

Paul’s hand had made a home on her backside, cupping the soft skin that peeked out of her underwear and moving with her motions. Even if he loved being the one to lead in the bedroom, he couldn’t say that was the dynamic with (Y/N). She held all the power in her hands, there and in their personal life. And for the time being, he seemed to enjoy it. Mostly because it was (Y/N).

As the man’s hands finally decided to move and try to remove the shirt that dangled from (Y/N)’s neck, a knock resounded through the house. At first, they ignored it, continuing their exploration of each other’s bodies. But whoever was at the door did not relent, knocking once more and harder the second time.

“Just ignore them,” he groaned against her neck. “They’ll get the hint soon enough.”

“It’ll only take a second,” she chuckled, pushing him away from her body. “I’ll see who it is, okay? You can go eat something in the meantime.”

“Ugh, fine.”

(Y/N) lowered the shirt onto her body, the massive size drowning her inside, and slipped on a pair of sweatpants. In the meantime, Paul did the same, adjusting the ignored hard-on that would tent his pants. It made the girl laugh as she noted the discomfort on his face that was quite evidently laced with annoyance.

“Don’t worry, Paul. It’ll go down soon enough.”

“That’s not funny, (Y/N),” he grumbled. “I was promised something else.”

“I promised nothing,” she laughed, coming down the last steps of her staircase. “And you’ll be fine in a couple of minutes. It’s not like you haven’t gone months without sex.”

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Oh, I know I am,” she smiled. “Now go away.”

(Y/N) opened the door and was surprised by the person standing on the other side. The Forks sheriff was nervously pacing back and forth on her porch. She could see the darkened bags under his eyes and his hair was slightly disheveled. Instantly she knew why he was there.

“Sheriff Swan, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, hello, (Y/N),” Charlie breathed out. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you,” she offered him a smile. “How have you been?”

“Well, I’ll be honest, I’m feeling a bit defeated at the moment,” he sighed. “That’s actually the reason why I’m here. It’s Bella.”

“Is she okay?”

“Physically, sure. But ever since her boyfriend and his family moved away she’s been the living dead,” the man explained. She could tell how tired he was, tired of being the only one that cared for her well-being —to care for the both of them. “I’m not one to gossip but I know you also went through something a few months back when the Cullens left. Yet, you were able to move on, and look at you now.”

“I can’t say it was easy, but I was lucky enough to have a lot of people rally behind me,” she chuckled slightly. “Still, I’m not sure how I could help you with her.”

“I was wondering if you could talk to her. Something tells me you’re the one who will understand what she’s going through the most and you’re honestly my last resort before I send her back to Florida with her mom.”

“Well then, thankfully I have a free day tomorrow and I can come over,” (Y/N) offered. “I’ll do what I can, Sheriff. I honestly didn’t know she was that bad.”

“I’ve tried my best to help her these past few months, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“No worries, Sheriff. We’ll get her out of this rut soon enough.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). I truly hope there’s something we can do,” he smiled weakly. “And, come on, what’s this sheriff business? You know you can call me Charlie.”

“Alright then, Charlie,” she chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow,” he offered her another smile, this time a slight hint of hope painting across his lips. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank me once I’ve done something, Charlie,” (Y/N) said with a laugh. “But I promise to try my best.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good rest of your day, (Y/N).”

“You too, Charlie.”

The girl waited until the cruiser disappeared down her road before she closed the door, a rush of guilt washing over her. She knew she hadn’t been alone in her heartbreak, that there was someone else that had tasted the Cullen drug and had been ripped away from the supply in the blink of an eye. (Y/N) had somehow forgotten that Bella had also had her heart ripped from her chest, and it seemed like she had been taking it harder than she ever had.

“What did the sheriff want?” Paul called from the kitchen, holding a plate with a sandwich.

“As if you couldn’t hear,” she chuckled. “Did you know it was that bad with Bella?”

“I’d heard whispers that she wasn’t doing good,” he shrugged. “But, honestly, my focus was on someone else. If I have to pick between one leech lover or another, I’m always picking you.”

“That’s not funny, Paul,” (Y/N) sighed, reprimanding her friend with her gaze. “It looks like she’s taking this really hard. Has Sam not gone over to check up on her? I mean, he is the one that found her that night.”

“(Y/N), we were more worried about you,” he responded sternly. “You took this hard as well. Need I remind you of your brief visit into alcoholism? Bella Swan has other people to worry about her. We needed you to be okay.”

(Y/N) remained quiet for a second. She knew if it hadn’t been for Paul and Sam, she would probably still be stuck in the overconsuming darkness of her loneliness. She had done things that she never thought she would do, she said things she never thought she would say, and she had felt the most gut-wrenching pain she had ever believed she would feel.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I know I sent you guys through hell with how I was acting a few months back.”

“Hey, hey,” he called her attention, placing a hand under her chin before wiping away a few stray tears. Paul wrapped his arms around her, letting her head rest on his chest. “You were heartbroken, (Y/N). It’d be weird if you had been fine with it.”

“Still, you guys had to witness me at my absolute worst. You more than others. I wasn’t a good person during that time.”

“Sadness and loneliness make you do crazy things, (Y/N). None of us blames you for how you were acting during that time,” he told her. His voice rumbled through her chest and sent her calming vibrations. “We will always be by your side, no matter what. We love you and care about you. And we’re just glad you’re better now.”

“I’m glad I’m better now too,” she smiled against his chest. “And I wanna help Bella get better too. If the way she’s feeling is even an ounce of the way I felt, she shouldn’t go through this by herself.”

“Want me to drive you tomorrow?”

“No,” she sighed. “I think this is something I should do by myself. Bringing someone that is so against her ex might not be the best thing.”

“She doesn’t know what I am though. At least she shouldn’t know.”

“Because of the pact.”

“Yeah,” he responded. “We can’t say what the Cullens are and they can’t say what we are. So Bella shouldn’t know why I hate them so much. She probably thinks I’m just like every other person of the rez that dislikes the Cullen because of our ancestors.”

“Still, I think I should go by myself for now,” she smiled up at him. “The last thing she needs is to meet someone new.”

“Fine,” he smiled back before it morphed into the Cheshire Cat grin. “What’re you doing the rest of the afternoon then?”

“I still need to study, and Emily invited me over for dinner tonight.”

“What you’re saying is that you have like an hour to spare?”

“I don’t think that’s what I said, Paul,” she chuckled. “But I guess I do have some time to spare —more like thirty minutes though.”

“More than enough,” he smirked.

He placed his hands under her thighs, prompting her to jump onto his waist and wrap her legs around him. She kissed his lips softly, running her hands through his hair. (Y/N) held on tight as Paul moved them back upstairs and to her bedroom.

Once back inside the now white walls of her room, he lay her softly onto her bed, his lips never leaving hers. He kissed her hungrily, not wanting to waste a single moment he was with her. He kissed her cheek, he kissed her temple, he kissed her chin, and he kissed her neck. It was one of his favorite things. To taste every inch of her skin for as long as she allowed him to.

“What are you doing for Valentine's?” Paul asked abruptly, the question coming out of nowhere. “There’s gonna be a bonfire that night. It’s mostly for couples but we can go as friends.”

“Great timing for that question, Paul,” she panted. “And I don’t know. That’s over a month from now. The only thing I’m sure of is that I’m gonna be studying.”

“So do you wanna go if you’re free?”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure. Thanksgiving had passed, so had Christmas and New Year. She had gone through three big holidays that she had pictured spending with him, and there were still so many more that she would have to experience with other people when she only wanted to spend it with him. As much as she had chosen to move on and try her hardest to forget him, it still hurt.

Every day that passed hurt. Every second that passed hurt. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, her heart still wanted him and only him. But it was something she could not admit. Not to her mother, to her brother, much less to Paul. She said she was okay, she looked like she was okay, and she needed herself to be okay.

“I don’t wanna make a compromise like that when I don’t know what my schedule is gonna look like,” she sighed. “But ask me again on the seventh and I’ll let you know.”

“Fine,” he groaned jokingly.

“Now, can we talk about comparing schedules later and go back to kissing?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he smirked before going back to attack her lips.

As they were getting back into the game of bodies, ripping away their clothes and reveling in the other’s body, a shout from outside interrupted them. At first, they chose to ignore it, thinking it was teenagers having fun in the street. But the clear mention of Paul’s name startled them apart. It was a voice that was usually very quiet and had just recently joined the pack.

“Yo, Paul!” Embry Call yelled from (Y/N)’s backyard. “We’re supposed to be on patrol right now!”

“Gods, what fucking timing!” Paul groaned. “I hate how eager he is to follow the rules. Like, does he not know there’s no active threat right now?”

“He’s just trying to make sense of all of this the best way he knows how,” (Y/N) explained. “He’s keeping his head down and doing what he’s told. Just being able to shift is a big shock, but finding out that your father is someone from the reservation is world-shattering. The poor kid is also getting smoke at home from his mom, and he can’t ask questions because he would have no proof of where he got them.”

“You’re actually making me feel bad for him.”

“You should. Right now, he’s not only lost his friends but he’s had his whole life turned upside down. What he needs more than anything is someone to guide him and be by his side.”

“Don’t look at me,” Paul scoffed. “That’s the alpha’s job.”

“I’m just asking that you don’t make his life harder than it already is,” she smiled at him. “He needs a friend, not someone to kick him when he’s already down.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “That kid is lucky you’re on his side.”

“Shut up and get dressed,” she laughed. “Don’t leave Embry waiting.”

Paul grumbled under his breath as he slipped on every piece of clothing he needed to get dressed in. As he complained and groaned, (Y/N) moved to the window, wanting to give Embry at least a heads up that Paul would take his time with going downstairs.

“Hey, Embry,” she called out. “Paul will be down in a sec, he’s too busy complaining at the moment.”

“Oh, hi, (Y/N),” he said as he blushed. “That’s okay. Sorry I showed up like this. Jared said that if Paul wasn’t at Sam’s that he was most likely here.”

“He is correct about that.”

“And don’t worry, I’ve been practicing suppressing my thoughts so that Sam doesn’t find out.”

“No worries, Embry,” she chuckled. “I know that Sam will eventually find out. So, it’s fine.”

“Oh, but still. It’s good practice.”

“I’m leaving now,” Paul interrupted, a definite scowl on his face. “As much as I don’t want to.”

“Well, I was saved by the bell,” she grinned teasingly. “Now I have more time to study. So, you can go.”

“Ugh, twist my arm why don’t you.”

“Go, Paul,” she chuckled.

“Fine,” he said before kissing her lips softly. “But I’ll see you later for dinner, right?”

“Yes, Paul. You’ll see me later.”

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seasidesandstarscapes · 4 days

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Right in the Numbers - Chapter 2

Prev - Next

Summary: In which Bobby is a tease and Don comes to a realization

Words: 2328

AO3

Don falls into an easy pattern with Bobby.

Hockey, sex, eating, sleep. Maybe it’s a thankless life for some, but Don loves every moment. He and Bobby trade off whose apartment they spend time at, sneak around when they’re on the road. He’s sure a smile is permanently plastered on his face, like now as he waits in line to check out and gets a Snap from Bobby.

Don opens up his phone only to immediately shove it back into his pocket. By now, he should know not to open Bobby’s Snaps in public, but hey, sometimes Bobby is just sending him a picture of his food.

This one however is already seared in Don’s mind. Bobby was in a crop top, styled like their jerseys and Don’s 22 plain as day across it. The black skirt that accompanied it didn’t even reach mid-thigh and of course he had to top off the look with knee high socks.

Don’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he sighs as he answers.

“You didn’t tell me what you thought of my outfit,” Bobby deadpans.

“Yeah, well,” Don adjusts the phone so it’s tucked between his shoulder and ear. “I’m at the grocery store.”

“And?”

“Pretty sure the old lady behind me had a heart attack,” Don shoots back under his breath.

He’s sure the woman didn’t actually notice but when she shuffles past Don in the self-checkout with her own cheeky smile and a wink, Don wants to die.

“She should at least enjoy the view,” Bobby says with a bit of offense.

Don needs to get out of here. He scans his items and leaves the store as quickly as he can, all but slamming into his car. Bobby is still chatting on the other end, but Don’s lost track of the conversation.

“You coming over?” Bobby pulls Don back to the matter at hand.

“I should get my stuff home first.”

“That can wait,” Bobby’s pout is loud but Don tries to be responsible.

“I have ice cream. I don’t want it to melt.”

“Just put it in my freezer. It’s not like you bought stuff for the entire team,” Bobby sighs.

He has a point. Don looks at his few bags, pretends to mull it over to tease Bobby.

“Don Hume, I swear to god—“

“—I’m on my way.”

Don only hangs up to focus on getting to Bobby’s place faster, but of course, safely too. Never mind that he takes a sharp turn into the parking lot and almost forgets to lock his car. He’s also grabbed all of his bags when he really only needed the one.

He knocks on Bobby’s door with his foot and in an instant is rendered useless. Bobby looks even better in person and Don throws his bags to the side just to get his hands on Bobby.

“What about that ice cream you were so worried about?” Bobby teases.

Don kisses Bobby. “Who cares,” he says against his lips.

Bobby chuckles at this, nudges Don away just enough to go through the bags. He bends over and Don has a clear view of, well, everything.

Bobby’s chosen to forego any kind of underwear this time and Don pushes Bobby up against the counter once the ice cream is put away.

“Someone’s eager,” Bobby grins, hiking his leg up to hook it around Don’s hip.

“Yeah well if someone wasn’t a fucking tease,” Don mutters.

He attacks Bobby’s neck, biting at the juncture, sucking and nipping up to his jaw. His hands reach under the short excuse of a skirt and he grabs at Bobby’s ass.

Bobby pulls Don into a deep kiss, arms going up and that’s when Don sees Bobby blindly reaching behind at a cabinet, opening it just enough to pull out lube and condoms.

“Do you just keep this shit everywhere?” Don asks as Bobby shoves the lube into his hand.

Bobby gives him a look, then shakes his head with a smile. “Never hurts to be prepared.”

Don supposes not and there was that one week where Bobby released exclusively kitchen-based videos.

Fingering Bobby open comes as naturally as skating now. Don can see the subtle signs, when Bobby wants more, when to drag his fingers out. He has Bobby laid out on the counter, his hips dipped just enough so Don doesn’t have to strain to fuck him. The skirt has tented with Bobby’s erection and Don rubs it through the fabric as he pushes into Bobby.

“Don,” Bobby sobs, hands scrambling to his forearms for purchase.

Don only smiles, moans when Bobby digs his nails in. His thrusts are sharp, fast, pent up hunger clawing to the surface. Bobby cries out, begs with each punch Don gives him until he’s a shaking mess, ruining the skirt with his cum.

With heavy breaths, Don follows soon after, slamming into Bobby and bracing himself against the countertop. When they come back to themselves, Bobby has an amused smile on his face.

“Think I should auction this off?” Bobby tugs at his crop top. “Hockey bunnies would go wild for it.”

“No,” Don’s answer is immediate. “You’re keeping it.” His voice is almost a growl and as unfamiliar as it is, it feels so right.

“Possessive, are we?” Bobby laughs, peels himself and Don apart. “Well then, why don’t you mark me up some more, Donny?”

Don watches as Bobby heads off to the bathroom, stripping his outfit as he goes. Don’s mouth waters and his heart stirs. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. If he ever has at all.

God, Bobby is going to destroy him.

“How the hell do you find time to cam?”

Don asks this as he’s scrolling through his Instagram feed. They’re sitting in his living room, Bobby’s head in his lap and he’s looking at his phone too. The TV’s volume is set low as it flashes a hockey game between their future opponents.

“Not that hard,” Bobby shrugs. “I use my phone half the time. The hardest part is finding a good place to prop it.”

“Other teams let you have a room all to yourself, huh?” Don muses.

The only time he ever feels alone on trips is in the shower and even then he’s sure his roommate knows exactly what’s happening. Joe simply ignores it but others like Chuck have given him too many wicked grins.

“Sometimes,” Bobby taps something on his phone. “Or I just wait until I know my roomie will be out drinking late.”

A memory sparks in Don’s mind and he sees Bobby on a hotel bed, humping a pillow. He’s pretty sure that was somewhere in Toronto.

“You know what’d be fun though,” Bobby drags Don from his reminiscing. “A pool session. I just don’t know anyone with a private pool.”

“Yet you knew someone with a hot tub?”

Bobby winces. “That one was technically trespassing…”

“What?”

“Okay, listen,” Bobby sits up, scrambles to explain himself. “I was housesitting for my grandparents and their neighbor was gone, he’s a good family friend, wanted me to check in on his house too and—,”

“More than I needed to know,” Don waves at Bobby. “I want to be able to plead the fifth when you’re arrested.”

Bobby flops back down on Don’s lap with a grin. “Aw, you’d protect me?”

“No,” Don pushes Bobby to the floor.

“Don!” Bobby glowers at Don as he steps over him.

“I gotta go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Bobby mumbles something but Don continues on his mission. When he gets back, Bobby is taking up the entire couch and gives Don an innocent smile.

“Sorry, it’s mine now.”

In a few short strides, Don is at the couch and he grabs Bobby by his hips, slinging him over his shoulder. Bobby shouts, flails, but Don ignores it all, dumping Bobby back on the floor before taking back his spot.

“And here I was getting ready to give you a nice blowjob.” Bobby has his arm dramatically thrown over his face.

“Mm,” Don goes back to his phone.

He’s tempting fate right now, but he’s curious to see what Bobby will do. A few minutes pass and out of the corner of his eye, Don noticed Bobby fidgeting more and more. When a hand lands on his groin, Don keeps up his charade until Bobby yanks the phone from his hands.

Bobby’s cute when he’s like this and Don tips back his head with a smile as Bobby pulls down the waistband of his sweats.

Another game, another road trip.

It’s never the playing that exhausts Don. The bus rides kill him and by the time he gets into his room at the hotel, he’s already half asleep.

Somehow Bobby has managed to make it so they share a room this time and Don’s confident the whole team now knows they’re fucking.

It’s fine.

He’s not the only one who’s done this, so he pays it little mind during practice. He and Bobby keep it off the ice, if only flirting a little here and there.

“Are you only complimenting Don because he sticks his dick in your ass?” Shorty asks during one particular drill.

“It helps,” Bobby shrugs. “Sometimes I get to stick my dick in him too.”

Ulbrickson rubs at his temple and Bolles is looking off in the distance. Don can’t bring himself to look his coaches in the face these days. He and Bobby haven’t gotten in trouble though so Don thanks his lucky stars for that.

“Again!” Ulbrickson calls out.

Biting down on his mouth guard, Don dives back into drills, anxious for the next day’s game. Competition will be fierce, but he thinks they’ll pull through.

Before he knows it, practice is over, dinner flies by and he’s sinking into his bed at the hotel.

It’s dark when he’s woken up, Bobby shaking his shoulder. He groans, rolls over and pulls the covers over his head. Bobby won’t have that, yanking them back so forcefully Don almost experiences whiplash.

“Come on,” Bobby tugs him out of bed.

Or tries to.

“No.” Don buries his face into the pillow.

He grabs hold of the mattress and then Bobby is using all his strength to pull Don.

“Why?” Don pitifully whines as he relents.

Bobby doesn’t give him an answer, forces him into the bright hallway. Don winces, one eye half open as Bobby takes them to the elevator. Several floors later, they’re at the pool and Don takes a quick look at the sign.

“Pool closes at 1am.”

“And it’s midnight,” Bobby is quick to answer.

Don doesn’t feel like he’s been sleeping for four hours and the heated room calls him back to rest.

“Just a quick dip,” Bobby grins.

“We’re not even in swimsuits.”

“So? I doubt anyone else is going to show up.”

It’s then Bobby strips completely and jumps into the pool.

“Oh my god,” Don mumbles to himself. “Why do I let you fuck me?”

“Cause I’m just that good?” Bobby has his arms crossed and perched on the edge of the pool.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Don glares at him, though there is no malice behind it.

Bobby gives Don an expectant look and he gives in, taking all his clothes off as well before taking the stairs into the pool.

It’s just on the edge of cold, but Don forces himself under the surface and adjusts in an instant. His teeth still chatter a few times though.

“I know how we can warm up,” Bobby waggles his brows.

“No,” Don shuts that idea down.

If he’s going to be an exhibitionist, he’d rather try it in a closet first.

“Fine,” Bobby sighs, swimming backwards. “Your loss.”

Don laughs at this, shakes his head. “I’m the only one of your subscribers that’s gotten to have sex with you. I’d hardly say that’s a loss.”

“Damn, you’re right.”

Bobby swims slow circles around Don, on occasion switching from his front to his back. Don is content to float, watch Bobby wear his energy down.

This is nice. They fall easily into their shared life, when sometimes just a look is all that’s needed to know what the other is thinking.

Bobby is fun, adventurous. Serious and thoughtful. Their friendship hasn’t been just about sex. They’ve had late night conversations, heart-to-hearts, and it’s all Don has ever wanted. They laugh and cry together with every win and loss. Simply put, Don is just happy.

That’s when realization stabs Don in the heart. No, it can’t be. He’s not falling in love with Bobby. They agreed. Anything more spells disaster.

“Donny, you okay?” Bobby is floating in front of Don now, tilting his head with concern.

“Yeah,” Don blinks, “I’m just tired.”

He can tell Bobby doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t press it.

“Better get you to bed then,” Bobby swims to the pool’s edge.

Don follows, the two dry themselves off as best they can before dressing and heading back to their room. The air-conditioning bites at Don’s skin and he shivers.

“Sleep in my bed?” Bobby asks and Don is quick to nod.

They wash the chlorine off themselves, silent as they share the shower. Don isn’t sure what to think, how to sort through his budding emotions. He’s been able to tell Bobby so much, but he’s not sure he can say this.

Instead he hugs Bobby from behind as the warm water sprays down on them and Don’s thankful when Bobby lays his arms on top of his own.

When they’re curled up in bed, Bobby’s back against Don’s chest, an ache spreads through Don’s body. This must be life’s way of getting back at him. He’s had it too good for a while, it’s what he deserves.

Don pulls Bobby in closer, his eyes sting as Bobby kisses his knuckles.

Of all the rotten luck.

#coxstroke #bobby moch #don hume #bobby moch x don hume #don hume x bobby moch #salix's sideblog escapades #oooof this chapter got away from me lmao

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memphisnovels · 8 months

Text

Evermore

Chapter 17. Let the light in

Previous chapter

Masterlist

I hope you enjoy <3

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: canon-typical violence, torture, injuries, Pietro and Nadia being Pietro and Nadia, arguing, confessions...

Bright white lights blinded me with every blink, causing me to shut my eyes tightly. A pounding ache set into the side of my head as I became conscious. My hand shot to my head a low groan coming from my very dry throat as I pressed against the spot the pain was coming from. A soft hand closed around my forearm, causing me to open my eyes fully. Anna stood at my bedside and Natasha sat on the end of the bed, both gazing at me with tender looks. I rubbed at my head, glancing around the room. It looked like we were in the med bay back at the compound. “What happened.” I managed to get out.

“Someone warned Tara you were coming.”

I hummed, coughing shortly after. Anna moved a cup of water with a straw toward my lips. I gulped down as much of the liquid as I could. “Yeah, she knew who I was, I don’t know about what else though. We were trying to get our intel from the hotel but then there was a car and…” I moved up right quickly.

“Pietro! Where is he? Is he alright?” I tried to pull at the chords attached to me, but Nat stopped me.

“He’s fine, Nads, worried about you but fine. He said something about a fruit doughnut or something.”

“Plum dumplings.” I muttered, settling back into the pillows behind me.

Anna and Natasha shared a look before turning back to me. “Right, well, you did a good job, we’ve got what we need.”

“The intel, it was in the hotel room, someone needs to go get it.”

“We already did, don’t worry, luckily only we knew where you two were staying, Maria Hill went and cleared the hotel as soon as we got the call that you were injured. We recovered everything.”

I sighed in relief at Natasha’s words. “One of the guys who tried to attack us in Amsterdam, he was Hydra.” Both the women beside me sighed.

Anna rubbed a hand over her face. “I should’ve known they’d be involved. They’re probably one of the potential buyers.” She sat beside me once more, reaching into her bag and pulling out a little brown plastic pot, chocolate pudding. My spirits lifted instantly. I grabbed the container from her and tore the lid off, digging in ravenously. “Hmm, I suspected even a nasty concussion wouldn’t stop you from devouring that.”

“You really are a saint!” I spoke around a mouth full of the chocolate delicacy.

Nat snorted, watching me intently. “Those things are so gross, but I love you and I’m really glad that you’re okay, so I won’t judge.”

“These are the nectar of the gods, and they just give them out for free in hospitals. Insanity.” Both Anna and Natasha laughed at me, but I ignored their teasing, cleaning the pot completely. When it was finished, I set it aside, sighing contentedly. “So, what do we do now?”

“You do nothing. We’ll handle this, all you need to focus on is resting.” Anna said.

I shook my head, sitting upright. “What? No, I’m fine!” Before either of them could argue I continued. “I know I always say that, but I really am this time, it was just a concussion. It hurts a little still, but I’ll be good to go by tomorrow. You can’t change my mine I’m seeing this mission through.”

“You’re actually admitting to being in pain?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, whatever. I’m really okay, let me finish this.”

They very reluctantly agreed, only after checking approximately a hundred times with the doctor to make sure I was actually okay. I agreed to spend the day resting and recuperating and that sealed the deal for me. Tara was heading to Morrocco to finalize her sale and hand over what Tony had referred to as the backdoor to the internet. Nat and I would fly out late tonight to stop the sale and hand ser over to the authorities. Each of the Avengers had been to see me after I was released from the medical wing, Cap and Sam had caught me on my way back to my room, Vision had walked through my wall to say he was happy that I was recovering, chilling really. Tony had brought me some food earlier as well, giving me some story about how he’d accidentally made too much when he was preparing his lunch, as if he normally cooks for himself anyway. I’d let him get away with his lies, scoffing the food down the second he left. After I’d eaten and had painkillers all but forced down my throat by Anna, I made my way to Pietro’s room. Wanda was leaving just as I arrived at the door.

“Oh sorry… I just…” I shook my head at my ridiculous stuttering. A kind smile spread across her lips.

“You look okay.” She shut her eyes tightly, her smile turning sheepish. “What I mean to say is that you look like you’re feeling better, I’m glad.”

I nodded at her. “I figured.” It wasn’t mean, wasn’t cold or angry like I had always been with her before this moment. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about her, but she hadn’t been exactly wicked and terrible in the months she’d been here. In fact, after our little tiff, she’d stayed away from me like I asked. She’d respected me, and I appreciated that, so in return I could be nice. Even if it felt strange.

“He really is a stubborn ass sometimes, I’m sure you know that by now.” She spoke up, gesturing toward the door behind her. “He’s so worries, hasn’t stopped asking about you… but he’s too pigheaded to be up front about it.”

“Is he okay?”

Her smile brightened. “He’s fine, a little banged up but still just as annoying.”

A laugh filled the air between us and with some shock I realized it was me. Despite myself, and despite our tenuous relationship I’d laughed at what she said. I swallowed the laughter quickly, glancing at her and offering a tight-lipped smile. “Do you mind if I…” I gestured toward the door. She moved instantly out of the way nodding fervently. “Just to check he’s still alive and update him on the mission, that’s all.” Wanda positively beamed at me.

“Of course.” With that she turned and wandered off down the hallway.

The door felt daunting as I stared it down, I wasn’t sure what to say, things were pretty complicated between us right now. Nonetheless I knocked, resting my head against the surface as I awaited a reply. “Come in.” He called soon after.

He sat more upright the second I entered, pushing himself to sit straighter before me. His leg was in a bandage and surrounded by some sort of non-enclosed cast, I was assuming it was just for the three days or so it would take his enhancement to heal him. “Hi.” I murmured, stopping by the end of his bed.

“Hi.”

“How are you doing?” I asked.

He scanned my body. “Fine. You?”

“Fine.” He nodded at my words, falling silent once more. I fiddled with my fingers, glancing around the room for something to look at that wasn’t him. It was then that I realized I’d never actually been in here before, it wasn’t what I expected. Dark grey and blue furniture as well as a few bits and pieces lying around, a soccer ball in the corner, some books strewn across his nightstand and a line of sneakers peeking out from the open door to his closet. “Agent Hill recovered our intel from the hotel, whoever sold us out didn’t have all the details apparently, so at least there’s that.”

He nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

“It is.”

He looked down at his lap. “So, what now? It’s over?”

“Well, she’s still planning to sell her files so I’m going after her to stop that from happening.”

“Okay so what we wait a few days for me to heal then we’ll go finish this?”

I shook my head at him, confusion no doubt evident on my face. “No, you should just rest, let your body recover, Nat will come with me to Morrocco to stop Janssen.” The room turned glacial in an instant, or perhaps it was just the icy glare Pietro set me with.

“It’s just a few days, probably less, I heal fast.”

“Pietro you said it yourself, you don’t heal that fast. In a few days Hydra could have those files, I won’t let that happen.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my head, the headache beginning to set in again. “It’s not a big deal, you’re hurt right now, Nat and I can finish this off while you heal up.”

“Why does it not surprise me that you’d cut me out of the mission the first chance you get?”

His words were like a punch to the gut. I took a step back almost as if I’d been physically wounded by them. “That’s not what I’m doing… I’m not cutting you out of the mission, you have a broken leg, there’s nothing you can do like this.” He scoffed at me, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. My eyes were stinging, and I couldn’t stand it. “That’s really what you think of me? That I’m a heartless monster who doesn’t give a shit about you? That I’m more worried about cutting you out of a mission than stopping a national security threat? You think that I don’t care that you got seriously hurt? Fine. Think whatever you want, Pietro. I have to go.” His face changed instantly at my words.

His voice stopped me as I turned to leave. “No wait, Nadia. I’m sorry, please wait!” I closed my eyes for a moment before turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow. All of the emotions that had been missing from his in that past week were written plain as day across his face. His eyebrows sagged slightly, guilt and hurt present on his features in equal measure. “I just don’t know what is going on – we kiss, and you don’t want to talk about it or acknowledge that anything happened but then you look at me the way you do and you bring me Sokovian desserts to make me feel better and listen to me even when you act like you don’t care and I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“I don’t get what is happening here… between us.”

Running a hand through my hair didn’t soothe me as much as I’d hoped it would. “I agreed to be your friend, Pietro, what more do you want?!”

“I never asked for that!”

A scoff fell from my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh, you didn’t ask me to be your friend. Didn’t beg me to be nice to you?”

“No-” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not what I meant, I wanted to be your friend but that isn’t all I wanted to be.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, looking at me the same way he had in the hotel hallway the other night. “I think you know, Nadia.” My heart was pounding against my sternum, so fast I was sure that I was going into cardiac arrest. “It wasn’t a heat of the moment decision for me; it wasn’t whatever you are telling yourself it was. I kissed you because I wanted to.” He swallowed heavily. The look in his eyes made my cheeks burn. “I want to… all of the time.” He continued while I remained silent. “I was cruel to you in Amsterdam and I’m so sorry, I just… it’s really hard to be around you when all I can think about is how badly I want you to tell me you feel the way I do.”

I shook my head at him, looking down at my feet. My eyes were stinging again, and I didn’t know why. I opened my mouth to respond but before I could a familiar voice called out to me.

“Nads, we need to prep before we leave, you ready?” Natasha appeared in Pietro’s doorway, completely oblivious to what he’d just revealed to me.

…

Sweat beaded on my forehead the second I stepped off the plane in Marrakech. The heat here was dry and a shock to my system, yet it was the furthest thing from my mind right now. It had all gone rather quickly, the period between Pietro telling me… what he’d told me and getting on the plane. I hadn’t even had time to formulate a proper response beyond a brief goodbye.

The sale of the Tara’s hard drive was taking place tonight at 6pm in a room at one of the most exclusive hotels in Morocco. We began getting ready as soon as we got to the hotel, hiding weapons on ourselves and testing the equipment. This was supposed to be a simple task, though after the last two missions I wasn’t holding my breath. Anything could happen, I had to be ready for that and I was… Mostly, though, I knew there was a part of me that was distracted, a part of me that was still in New York, standing in Pietro’s room with him.

I want to.

All of the time.

I’d tried to shake it off but the sensation that lived in my stomach seemed unwilling to dissipate. Frustratingly, this feeling didn’t seem content to be yet another item on my growing list of things I could simply ignore. It clawed at me, sung to me, pleaded with me, demanded to be felt by me.

It was that distraction that had allowed them to get the jump on me. The first face I saw was a familiar one, the man from Amsterdam with the Hydra tattoo. I blocked his first hit and the second but the third landed. My body doubled over unwittingly, the moment the impact rippled through my body I knew that there would be a nasty purple bruise where he’d hit. A glance at the brass band over his knuckles explained the extent of the pain. I persevered, throwing expert punches and maneuvering around his hits until I began to feel a little woozy and my vision became blurry. The strange thing about getting injected with things in the heat of a fight is that the adrenaline tends to cover the initial sting of the needle. My hand slapped against the side of my neck entirely too late, each movement so much slower now. Somewhere, someone was shouting my name, but I was out cold before I could process much else.

My body was jostled slightly, prompting me to open my eyes. It was dark and cold here. My vision was still slightly blurred, and the muscles I could feel were like jelly. I thought I might have been in the back of a car, the boot. Consciousness came and went and when I awoke again, I was in a hot, damp room. It took me several moments to realize I was standing, well not really, I was being held up by ropes around my wrists, but the feeling had only just begun to fully set back into my limbs. The rope chaffed my wrists, rubbing them raw.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” A familiar voice spoke, waking me up slightly more. Tara stood before me, momentarily appearing as a double. I closed my eyes tightly for a moment. When I reopened them, things were a little clearer, the room I was in was bare, stone walls, a single chair, Tara, and me.

“You know I actually, didn’t think you were that bad at first. I’m beginning to re-evaluate though.”

The woman before me laughed heartily, taking a step toward me. “Guessing friendship is off the table then huh?”

“What the fuck do you even want?”

“Well, it’s not really about what I want, dear Nadia.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Let me guess, it’s what Hydra wants, customer satisfaction is really that important to you?”

“You still don’t get it do you?”

The two men from the café entered the room. I was beginning to. A humorless laugh left me. “For fucks sake, you’re Hydra.”

A deranged smile spread across her lips. “Bravo, finally we are on the same page! I do hope you aren’t too cross with me about all this pretense, it was all a means to an end you see. I hold up my end of the bargain, deliver you on a silver platter, they protect me while I complete the sale. Plus, if Hydra has you it gets you off my case.”

I wasn’t so sure I understood now, wasn’t sure I really wanted to. What did Hydra want from me?

“Where is Natasha?” I asked, ignoring her previous words. Her smile brightened as she placed two small objects on the chair she had previously been seated in, our comms. I yanked on my binds, glowering at Tara. “This really isn’t the right decision, Janssen. I can assure you Hydra is not the winning team you think it is.”

She merely turned her back, addressing the two men now. “Sie gehört ganz dir.”

She’s all yours.

I yanked on the binds again, setting the tattooed man with a glare as he began to approach me. He had buzzed off hair that appeared to have been blonde and a long scar from his forehead down across his left eye. The brass knuckles were still situated over his fingers as he stared me down, a coldness in his gaze that almost rivalled my own. The other man leaned against the wall by the door, locking it after Tara exited. It remained like this for a long while, buzzcut just standing there staring, doorman watching from a distance. “Jesus Christ, are we going to stand here all day or are you going to torture me?”

The metal met my ribs once, twice, three times. I coughed from the impact, the end cutting off into a laugh. “Who taught you to punch? A 6-year-old?” He hit me again and again, I laughed in his face. I learned quickly that the more I ridiculed him the worse the beating got, not that I’d expected different. Even with his particularly hard punches that winded me and bruised my ribs it was still not the worst I’d endured. The next time I got lippy the hit was to my face. Minutes passed, or maybe they were hours. Occasionally buzzcut would let up, taking a break for his own benefit I assumed.

Blood dripped from my lips as my head hung between my shoulders. “Most of the hits had been to my stomach and sides, though I was sure I had a bruise across my cheek and likely a split lip.

“Remind me what the point of this is.” I managed to get out. “Are you trying to get information or something? Because usually step one is asking a question.”

Finally, a response came from the doorman, first a laugh, then words. “We don’t want information from you, Nadia. Well, we do, but that’s not what this is about.” He grabbed ahold of my chin and yanked my head up to face him. He had dark hair and features but was so pale he appeared sickly. “We want to recruit you.” A thick German accent underpinned each of his words.

“Oh okay, so this is just a welcome ceremony or something?” I spat my blood at his feet. “Just showing me what I’m definitely not missing?”

He narrowed his eyes. “No, no, this is merely a test, we just wanted to make sure you were as we remembered.”

I raised a single eyebrow. “Oh, that makes perfect sense. So, the test was a few shitty punches from this idiot? Hydra really has gone soft.”

He smiled at me. “Of course not.” My arms were untied, and I was strapped to the chair in the corner. It was around the time the chair was tilted back and a towel was placed over my face that I clued on.

“Oh, for fucks s-” I was cut off by water being poured over me I clenched my fists and attempted to remain calm, steeling my every nerve against the sensation of drowning. It burned and my lungs felt like they were going to burst, it was just as shitty as I remember it being. I tightened my fists as it became more and more unbearable, and the water kept coming.

Finally, there was a reprieve as the towel was removed from my face. I coughed and gasped for air; every fiber of my body strung tightly as I struggled to get the air in. “Reconsidered the offer yet?”

“You made me an offer?”

The towel was replaced, and the water returned. The pattern would continue for well over an hour, a short reprieve upon which the man checked in with me. Eventually he gave it a rest indefinitely, dropping the towel but keeping me strapped to the chair. The water returned soon after though, ice water being dunked over my head. Just like old times. My body was tensed almost painfully, the cold seeping into each of my nerve endings and sending a deep shiver down my spine.

The man grabbed me by the back of the hair, forcing me to look at him. “Join us.”

My body was shivering violently and the slither of light from the window was now gone, prompting me to believe it was nighttime. “No thanks.”

He shook his head at me. “It ends whenever you want it to.”

And just like that I was gone, a blink and I was in a different room, bound to a different chair with something strange on my face.

“It ends whenever you want it to.”

The man in the glassed scribbled on a clipboard, glancing at me occasionally.

“Tell me who you are.”

I felt my lips moving but I couldn’t hear the words that left them. The ballerinas were back, dancing across the screen before me, it was different this time. The music, the outfits. The girl had a feather crown around her head.

When my eyes opened, I was back in the torture room but buzzcut and doorman were long gone. In their place was Tara, sitting across from me. I swallowed heavily, allowing my head to fall back. Every part of my body ached. “Honestly, can’t a girl get a little piece and quiet.”

“Joking until the bitter end, you really are impressive, Nadia.”

I rolled my eyes at her.

“Why are you even here? FOMO?”

She smirked at me. “Well, I just wanted to tell you the good news.” I didn’t dignify her with a response. “My buyer has finally arrived in Morrocco, how fun? I’ve just sent the boys to go begin the meeting.” This was such bullshit, last time I ever fucking help MI6. “Honestly, whatever intel was being fed to you and Natasha was really shitty.”

“Fuck you.” I muttered.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Well, that’s really all I had to say, anyway best be off.” She stood, waving at me tauntingly.

Before she was out of reached, I kicked out and caught her leg with mine, tripped her and using the momentum to kick back of the chair hard, the wood shattering as it hit the concrete ground. I yanked my arms upward, wooden side handing from my binds. Ignoring the immense agony I swung on Tara, easily landing hit after hit. “I told you it was a bad decision.” I said, dragging her to the ground and punching her again.

The sharp, burning pain in my abdomen had me hesitating, Tara and I both looked down, the black and red handle of the screwdriver peeking out from within my body. “Holy shit…” Her mouth fell open. “I’ve never stabbed anyone before. I don’t know why I did that I’m so sorry.” She yanked the object from me causing me to cry out.

“No! You fucking idiot!” I wrapped my leg around hers quickly, sending her tumbling to the ground and punching her. The adrenaline pumping through my veins stopped me from feeling the pain. I knew I needed to make this quick, there was not going to be fight left in me for long. She slipped her hand free, pressing hard into my wounded side to disable me. I yelled as white-hot agony seared through me, falling to beside her. With gritted teeth, I pushed through the pain, grabbing her arm as she tried to escape and twisting it around behind her back pulling her back down so that her back was pressed to my chest. She thrashed as I wrapped my arms around her neck. The pain in my side was so extreme I could feel tears streaming down my cheek, I put further pressure on her carotid artery tightening my legs around her as I felt her begin to fall unconscious. When she went to sleep, I double checked for a pulse, making sure she’d be okay. When I found it I shoved her from me, laying back and letting out a few painful breaths. Finally, I managed to push myself up, grabbing Tara’s arms and dragging her over to the pillar in the corner. The rope I’d been tied with was still laying on the ground for me to restrain her with. When I was sure she wasn’t escaping I threw the file down on her lap and stole the watch from her wrist.

Blood covered my hands, leaving stains on everything I touched. The fabric of my shirt clung to me as a patch of red appeared. Looking down at the time on Tara’s watch, I realized it was 3:45pm, I’d been bleeding freely for at least 3 minutes already. I let my hand fall to my abdomen, grazing over the wound, closing my eyes I thought hard to remember the internal anatomy in an attempt to decipher what she may have hit. I didn’t think the bleeding was rapid enough to have been an artery or my spleen unless it was just a nick. The button up shirt I wore would have to be a good enough bandage for the time being, I slipped it from my shoulders before wrapping it tightly around my stomach. Things became a little blurry about the time I shoved the heavy metal door open to reveal the afternoon sky, there was a mild breeze blowing over the sweat that glistened over my skin.

I stumbled against the side of the car that I’d been brought here in. A bloody handprint was pressed into the light grey of the door. I looked at the watch again, 3:51. There were no keys in the ignition so I began searching the car as quickly as I could, sun visor, glove compartment, center console; nothing. Something gleaming from the floor of the passenger seat caught my attention, a phone. I grabbed it typing in the familiar number, Natasha wouldn’t have her phone so that isn’t the number I dialed.

“Hello.”

“Tony.” I ground out, putting the phone on speaker and navigating into maps.

“Nadia? Are you okay? Where the hell are you? We lost you on the map.”

“I’m fine, sending you some coordinates, it’s where I left Janssen unconscious. I stopped the sale, but you need to get someone out there to grab her. Hydra aren’t the buyers, they’re the sellers, that militia group Anna mentioned, that’s who is actually buying, they’re waiting back at the hotel for Tara, it’s only a matter of time before they come looking for her.”

When the coordinates went through, I began working on hotwiring the car, I needed to get to a hospital sooner rather than later. “It’s all good, Nat’s handing the buyers, but you don’t sound fine, where are you?”

“Just get someone to the coordinates.”

“Yeah, got it MI6 is on their way. What happened to you?”

I finally got the car going and stepped on it, the roads were blurring together as I travelled down them. “She stabbed me with a fucking screwdriver, I’ll be fine I’m going to the hospital now, just make sure they get Tara. Thank you, Tony.”

“Nadia, don’t you dare hang up!” I ended the call before he could continue.

That ringing I knew all too well filled my ears. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, steeling myself and pushing through the weariness. Passing out simply was not an option, I just needed to get to the hospital and everything would be fine. I could feel the strength slipping from me by the minute, but I held on tighter. This wasn’t happening, not like this.

Not when I never got to answer him. Pietro. I wasn’t even really sure what I was going to say to him, but I deserved the chance to say it just like he deserved a response. I was not going to die in this fucking car because of some stupid Hydra bullshit. Typical, even when I’m bleeding out that Sokovian dickhead was still heavy on my mind. I groaned out loud, narrowing my eyes on the road in an attempt to focus my blurry eyes.

It took opening my eyes to even realize that they’d been closed, my shirt was damp I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or blood, maybe both. The car had stopped and there were flashing lights all around, an unfamiliar voice spoke to me. “Miss, can you hear me?” I wanted to nod but I wasn’t sure if I had the energy. The flashing lights came and went, white rooms, needles, bandages, red hair.

“I’m so fucking sick of you seriously.” I heard a soft voice say.

I smiled weakly at Natasha as my eyes focused, a different hospital, the same friend, sister. “Please tell me we did it.”

She laughed tearily. “Yeah. We did it, Nads.”

…

I gave her hand a tight squeeze as we got off the plane.

“I’m fine.” Her glare almost set me alight. I just smiled.

The New York breeze wrapped around me, welcoming me in. Tony was the first person I saw off the plane, he pulled me into a tight hug. “Please don’t remove me limbs from my body, I’m just kind of glad you’re not dead.” I rolled my eyes, patting his back gently, body stiff, nonetheless. He took the bag from my hands wandering off further into the compound.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” My head whipped around at the familiar voice, lips upturning at the look of pure frustration and disbelief written across his features. Suddenly, Nat was nowhere to be found. Pietro took a few steps toward me. “Do you genuinely have a death wish?!” My smile widened. “Honestly, I do not know what your prob-” I yanked him to me, hands finding the sides of his face as our lips joined. Nothing had ever confused me so much but at the same time made so much sense. I didn’t really get it, but at that moment I really didn’t care. It felt just like it had on the balcony, as if each one of my nerves had become a livewire and everything was okay, comfort and chaos all at once but I wasn’t running this time. I leaned my forehead against his when I pulled away, swallowing heavily.

“You didn’t see that coming?” I murmured, breathless.

His lips curved up into a soft smile, eyes still closed.

#pietro maximoff #pietro marvel #pietro maximoff x ofc #pietro maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj smut #marvel avengers #marvel smut #avengers smut #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff smut

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imwriting0verhere · 2 months

Text

Love Again

Chapter 8

Sam’s pov

Being in LA for the past two weeks was incredible. We arrived, fought the jetlag and got ready to start this North America tour. I had to do some interviews as well as a photoshoot that are all going to be released throughout the tour to get even more promo out and make myself and my music even more interesting and appealing to the American audiences. I’m never too crazy about those tasks but it’s part of this job. At least we’re finally on location and ready to play our first gig tonight in Los Angeles, and it’s at the legendary Troubadour no less. We’re all buzzing, even uncle Elton said he’d be there tonight. Everything still feels so unreal.

I’ve been with the boys all day, it’s just gone past 5pm as we walk out of soundcheck and into the backstage area to wind down and prepare for tonight.

The minute I sit down and turn my phone back on I’m bombarded with notifications. At least 8 messages make my phone vibrate and light up as well as 5 missed calls. And they’re all from Amber. My breath gets caught in my throat thinking the worst. So without even checking the texts I excuse myself and step out of the room to ring her back.

After several seconds and me ready to give up, she answers.

“Finally” I mumble before addressing her “Ambs you okay? A’ve just got me phone back and seen all your calls and messages” I try to listen for any signs of distress or where she might be. But the line is eerily quiet. I hear her exhale before she finally speaks

“What were you doing all day? Did you have fun?” she asks me in a very snippy and annoyed tone.

“Ehm, what d’ya mean? We’ve been prepping for tonight and just got done with soundcheck” I pinch the bridge of my nose out of pure confusion “You alreet, pet?” I ask again.

“Don’t know” she hisses into the phone and I’m really just getting more confused by the minute. What is she on about?

“You tell me! Given that its past midnight in London now which means you’ve completely missed our first Valentine’s Day together” she snaps at me.

Oh. Okay. Thank god it’s nothing serious.

I clear my throat before I respond “Look Ambs, I’m sorry I’ve missed it. My mind’s just on the gig tonight and everything going right. A wasn’t even aware that was today.

“But Saam” she whines “This would’ve been our first one together. I wanted to speak to you or facetime you all day”

I don’t want her to think I don’t care, but this is absolutely the last and least important thing on my mind today.

“Well, it’s still the 14th where I am” I try to appease her with that “So technically a divvent miss it”

She’s pondering over my words and I’m waiting for her to say something

“Ceemon, it’s not like a’ve done this on purpose. I miss yous” I smile down the phone

“Fine, alright” she tries to sound annoyed but I can hear the smile in her voice, knowing I’ve won her over with that “I miss you too babe. It’s killing me that I can’t even come over and visit you”

“Me too. But we’ll make it work aye”.

Before I know it, 20 minutes have passed and I need to get back to the lads.

“I’ve got to go now. Elton John will be here tonight and he’s coming early to have a chat and give us a pep talk, right.” I chuckle at her. I’m so excited to see him again and actually have him in the audience tonight. Proper VIP treatment just for him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, again. ‘m sorry a couldn’t be there today”

“Thanks babe, happy V-Day!” she says excitedly “Good luck tonight, I wish I was there with you”.

Stepping back into our little green room I make a mental note of having chocolates and a bouquet of her favourite flowers delivered to her tomorrow.

Y/N pov

Being on tour for almost four weeks already was the best and most amazing feeling. Traveling with the girls, exploring new cities, playing music to new audiences almost every night was everything I’ve always wanted to do. But on a day like today, I was very grateful to have some time off and start a very chill Sunday by waking up late and staying in bed for a bit. And given that we were playing two shows in Rome our label actually splurged and we were staying in a hotel for the time being. This Valentine’s Day couldn’t have started better.

At 11 am I finally decide to leave the bed and go shower, so I can start the day proper. February 14th was one of my favorite days ever since I was in high school. I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time but me and my friends tried to make it special for each other. Writing sweet and silly letters to each other, getting flowers or a cheap bracelet from Claire’s we’d been swooning over at the mall. It didn’t matter how much or if we’d even spent any money at all, it was always about showing love and affection to the people around you, the people in your life that you love and cherish, and couldn’t imagine living without.

So I’ve got a special day planned for my girls today.

Walking into the en suite bathroom and opening Spotify to enjoy some music while I shower and get ready. But a message catches my eye and as soon as I open it and see who it’s from, my mood gets even better and I smile down at my phone.

Morning sunshine! I hope you’re having a blessed day. Missing you over here, bun San Valentino mi amore 😘😉😂

Cackling at Johnny’s text and use of obnoxious pet names and emojis, I quickly type back

Thanks so much mi amore! You just made this day THAT much more special x 😍😘

My response dripping with sarcasm but it’s actually very impressive and sweet that Johnny remembered how much I love this day.

Fifteen minutes later I step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and my damp hair falling over my shoulders. I lower the volume on my phone as I see Donna is back in our room. She acknowledges me with a quick “Good morning sleepyhead! Ready for the big day?” and as she turns around to me she sports a big smile and a mirth in her eyes that I can’t quite place.

“Yes, I’m going to be so disgustingly corny and loved up with all of you today” I grin at her before sitting down on my bed and looking down to scroll on my phone. Missing her smirk and the not so subtle bouquet of pink, violet and white flowers that’s now sitting on our vanity table. Next to it is a little bag filled with a The Safest Place EP, Johnny’s second band that I’ve supported and been a huge fan of since day one. And he promised me I’d be one of the first people to hear their music once they have enough songs to make an EP. The last item on the table are two pistachio croissants neatly placed inside an open cardboard box. One of my absolute favorite Italian treats, and now that they’re from a bakery in Rome, they must be absolutely heavenly.

“Someone’s already beat you to it. By the looks of it” looking up at her with confusion evident on my face, she just nods her head to the side and my eyes follow the direction until they land on the items on the table.

I gasped before quickly dropping my phone onto the mattress and stepping closer to investigate.

“What?” I whisper in disbelieve. “Did…did you get me this” I ask her bewildered

“Nope” she lets the p pop and just smirks at me some more “I believe they are from a certain Mr Bond” she walks past me, squeezes my arm gently and walks out onto the small balcony of our room. She’s giving me some privacy because she knows I’m going to want to talk to Johnny immediately.

Reaching for my phone again and starting a facetime call, I walk back over to the table to investigate some more. After only a few rings he picks up

“Hiyaaa” he almost shouts into the phone, the biggest Cheshire grin on his face “A’m guessing you got your present?”

“Johnny, this is crazy” I’m still a bit shocked and at a loss for words “How did you even…this is too much…” I trail off again

“It’s not. I know how much you love this day and that you’re treating the girls today. But you deserve some of that too aye” his smile softer now. My eyes get a bit teary at that. Johnny really is one of the best people I know.

“Do you like the flowers? Did you look at everything yet?” he asks excitedly.

“They’re so beautiful John!” and as I move closer to smell them, a smile forms on my face. I don’t have a lot to say, still a bit overwhelmed by this gesture so we just look at each other, my happy expression saying enough.

I reach my hand into the little pink paper bag and pull out a black and dark blue colored 7” vinyl. The Safest Place EP written on top of its case.

“Omg Johnny that’s you” I shout excitedly, looking at my phone screen again. He just laughs at my outburst

“Aye! I promised you, didn’t I?” he grins at me and I’m bursting with pride now. This means it’s official now, Johnny’s new band is ready for take-off and I hope they get to play many incredible gigs in the near future. This is such a good start.

“I’m so proud of you B, this is amazing! Thank you so much! For all of this” taking a moment to just look at him.

His warm blue eyes stare back at me, the softest look on his handsome face. I can feel his genuine care and good intentions just by looking at him.

He asks me about my plans today, he wants to know again how life on tour has been and how I’m feeling with all of this happening and my hard work finally paying off.

I can feel my thoughts drifting. Thinking about recent months, what happened between me and Sam and how different both men have been treating me. Even though things with Sam started very rough this year, and it still doesn’t feel like we made up and are back to being close friends, just how it was before that New Years party. We still need to have a proper conversation, in person, and he needs to show me that I can trust him again, unconditionally. But maybe we’re getting there now, after he contacted me that very first day of tour. Unfortunately, I haven’t heard much else from him since then.

And Johnny on the other hand, he’s been such a wonderful friend since we met years ago. I never thought I’d feel any differently for him, surprisingly, even after we shared a kiss one night a couple years ago. There was a tension between us that night, I think it was after one of his last shows with Catfish and something about him fresh off stage just made me see him differently. There was wine flowing and the adrenaline was high. So we made out that night. It was great, and it didn’t even feel like a mistake afterwards. But it was only a spur of the moment impulse and we just went on being friends.

I realize now that the feeling I had back then, might be coming back. For the past two months Johnny’s been such a constant in my life, almost taking Sam’s place. And although that thought was a bit scary, it doesn’t make me feel bad. Johnny was looking out for me, checking up when he knew I wasn’t feeling the best. Without either of us knowing really, he’s become one of the most important people this year, making me feel okay, making me feel special and understood. Showing me I can trust him. And without even realizing, Johnny Bond has warped his way into a very special place in my heart. And now looking back at the gifts I’ve just received from him, returning my gaze back to his lovely face on my phone screen, I really don’t think I’d want it any other way.

“I think I should go now B. Finally get dressed and leave the hotel room for a bit”

“Sure, yea” he looks at me with a pout but the sarcasm is coming through and I know he wants me to enjoy my time with the band now.

“Thanks again my sweet” I wink at him before blowing a kiss and with his last “Bye, sunshine” we end the call and I take a moment to take all of this in. Smiling to myself before I quickly get dressed and call for Donna that we can leave to meet the others.

#sam fender fanfic #sam fender imagines #sam fender fanfiction #sam fender x reader #johnny bond #sam fender #love again #bondy #the safest place #johnny bond x reader

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szagaloree · 1 year

Text

His wife…

Chapter 7

Contains: angst/blood/ then fluff/smut

Quaritch slowly woke up with his arms wrapped around gwen, he sighs staring down at her sleeping state, he cannot lie, he wants her back he really wants her back that’s why he’s trying to chang but something is holding him back like a drug. He kiss the top of her before getting out of bed and dressed, he stretched cracking some of his bones before leaving. “Aye Quaritch they’re at it again,” Lyle said “what are you talking about?” Quaritch raised a brow “they’re testing on the kid,” he said and that’s when Quaritch jaw clenched in anger, he couldn’t believe she was doing it again! Testing on his son.

He sprints in to see him in that machine again, he nearly was going to have seizure from that with blood running down his nose, he slams the button “what the fuck are you doing?!” He exclaims, “we need answers I’m not waiting for you to play daddy,” she said not caring at all, “take him out” Quaritch said “excuse me?” She questions “take.him.out!” Quaritch growled, “I’m afraid not,” she said, Quaritch tilts his head with chest pumping hardly before grabs at the machine pulling one of the systems off making the scientists sprint up “hey!” They yelled, “get him out of each and every one of you are gonna be eating alive,” he threatens coldly, Lyle, z-dog, ha and mansk pull out their guns.

One of them ends up pressing the button releasing but he was so weak he couldn’t stand up so Quaritch caught him Lyle while walks over to carry the boy, “why do you care about the boy so much he’s not even your son,” that made his fists ball up, “that’s because you erased my memories of my wife and my son, that’s why,” her eyes widen so did the others, “you think I didn’t know? Huh… I see why sully switched sides because even your own people be so twisted,” Quaritch said leaving.

“Wait he’s your son?”?z-dog asks in shock “mhm there’s videos to prove he is,” Quaritch spiel, “I mean… he does look like him,” mansk shrugs, gwen was awake now and she was walking through the hallway to look for spider, “spider?!” She gasps “what the hell happened?” She asks “Carmella was testing on the boy trying to get him to spill the beans on sully,” Lyle answered. “I’m gonna fuck that bitch up!” She grunted “this I want to see,” mansk smirked along with a-dog and ja but Quaritch grabs her waist stopping “woah there, I handled it, she won’t be doing that again,” he said “I don’t care Imma handle her, I’m sick of her,” she tries to get out of his grip but he only tightened it telling she was not going to literally kill Carmella. “I handled it okay, I’m gonna get him check alright he’ll be fine,” Quaritch says, gwen huffs crossing her arms ,“she got one more time,” Gwen said, spider got checked and he’s thankfully okay and just needs to rest for the day it was to the point gwen had him in his aunties quarters so he can have multiple eyes on him. They were pissed off themselves when they were told what happened, “I want him out of here! It’s getting to damn dangerous! I’m not finna test on my son like he’s a animals! It’s disgusting and inhuman!” She argues, “I know I know, where are we gonna take him? We can’t just leave,” Quaritch said, “I’m gonna find a way! I’m sick of sticking here, I’m not finna loose my son,” she says “our son, we’ll figure something out okay,”he comforts her.

She looks up at him, she was worried for her son, the way he was easily taken from them just to try and get a word out of him by torturing him like that scares her, “I’m going to go I need some air,” she said leaving, she walks to the quarters “everything alright?” Allen asks “no they did it again! You still got location on the others who stood back?” I ask “yea why?” She tilts her head “I need to talk to them… I.. spider can’t stay here it’s getting worser Carmella is only going to torture him more if he doesn’t tell her shit,” gwen huffs. “You want me to come with you?” Allen asks, “I don’t know, they’re probably not going to trust us,” gwen says hesitantly “well, what if we bring spider?” She sighed “alright let’s go,” Allen and gwen walked inside spider’s room to wake him up “what’s going on?” He asks “we’re going to see some old friends, I bet you know them,” gwen smirks, “who?” He asks rubbing his eyes “you’ll see but don’t tell anyone,” he nods he follows and they were able to sneak out, and fly on their ikran’s with Allen leading the way.

“Hey max! Check this out!” Norm jogs over to max kneeling down to show him something, “wait! They’re here!” One shouted norm grabs his gun along with the others when they spot us, gwen flies down hoping down “spider?” Norm calls in disbelief “norm!” Spider sprints to him smiling, “gwen?” Max stares at her trying to figure her out, “yea” they gasp, “what? I-it-it really worked?!” He says nervously she nods “yea on few of us,” Allen said, “how did you come back, I thought you died from giving birth?” Samantha asks “yea I did, but they store our memories for this specific reason to bring us back.. as their damn puppets,” gwen said, “are you alone?” Norm asks we both nodded “yea it’s just them,” spider said, “I’m trying to figure out how I can get spider out of this if not me and the rest, they were literally testing on him just to try and get a word out on where Jake sully is… and I’m not gonna let that happen,” I said, “he can stay with us, he’s been staying with us ever since jake and the omaticaya sent them back to earth,” max said, “we can’t let him stay right now we have to think this through, it’s not easy because the rest will be after him too and they’ll suspicious of us and put us down for good,” Allen said.

“If Jake ever gives you word on anything let him know he got his on recoms in their for him and we’ll try to give out every word we get,” gwen says sternly, max and norm nodded, “you knows it going to take sometimes for them to trust you, I know Jake probably would trust since he was trying to reach out to you for help against them but you ended passing away before he could,” norm says, gwen sighs “yea I know.. Jake knows I’m not them, nothing like them but he knows i was Quaritch’s wife even though I am I couldn’t even get him to change when I myself wanted him too,” she said, “let’s go spider, we gotta head back before they start looking for us,” she sighed.

A day later norm and max was already heading to the metkayina clan to find out what’s going on with kiri, “Jake umm there’s something we found and need to know,” norm says “what?” He asks scared, “you remember gwen?” Max asks his eyebrows twitches in confusion “gwen?” Jake says quietly “uhh no I don’t remember,” he said, “so umm it comes to find out that… spider’s mother is alive,” he raises a brow “she was alive this whole time? Where the hell was she?!” Jake asks getting angry because there’s no way his mother could be alive and didn’t bother to look for son?! “No no, the thing is gwen was brought back to life by the rda,” max explains “gwen who is gwen I don’t… oh shit, gwen?! Wait gwen!” Max nods “quaritch’s wife; she’s his mother,” Jake eyes widen, “gwen is brought back to life? How?” He asks “they have a memory card so that way they can be made and brought back to life with their memories,” max explains, “it’s creepy but she came to us yesterday because she’s trying to figure a way out for her and spider,” norm said, “she’s one of them?” Jake huffs shaking his head “if she was she wouldn’t be coming to us she already they were trying to test on the kid to try and get him to talk basically, torture him.. Jake you know she isn’t, you even tried to reach out to her before she died,” norms says.

“How did she die?” Jake asks.

“Giving birth to spider,” Jake eyes slowly widen, the guilt and sadness he felt “damn man, that’s fucked up, man!” He shakes his head sighing, “she said you got recoms on the inside that’s willing to give you their next move,” Jake puts out a smirk “yea she’s Quaritch wife alright she’s known for recom missions, whatever she can give send it to me, I’ll try to figure out how I can get her and spider out,” they nodded.

#SoundCloud #quaritchhiswifeoc #quaritch x oc #spider quaritch #quaritch smut #colonel quaritch #avatar quaritch #na'vi quaritch #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #jake sully #neteyam #na’vi #neytiri

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purple-petrichor · 11 months

Text

MarriageToxin Profiles Vol.1

Haven’t seen these in English yet, so I’m posting them! Taken from the Japanese manga releases. Translated by myself. Sorry for the image quality;;

Gero Hikaru

DOB: November 24th Blood Type: A

Heir to the "poison user" Gero family. The type to have many copies of the same clothes. Keeps a large number of work tools under his coat. If the room he lives in isn’t constantly clean, he feels unsettled. On nights after something rough happened, he cleans public toilets and other places until they’re better than new. Due to that, rumors of an urban legend “the Midnight Cleaner” have begun to spread throughout one portion of the city.

Amount of money spent on DIY candy kits per month: approx. 200,000 yen *(approx. $1,500 USD )

–

＊TL Notes: Here’s Gero! Starting off strong with the main character.

Blood types are included in almost every profile in this series. In Japan, blood types are actually considered pretty important for determining one’s personality and romantic compatibility. It’s similar to Western astrology with star signs. For more detailed information, search google or read here. In Gero’s case, Blood Type A is actually the most statistically common in Japan (40% of the population) so that makes him a relatively normal guy. According to one article, “people with blood type A are known to be highly-organized, particularly precise, and pay much attention to details. They are diplomatic and friendly in nature, so you won’t have a hard time approaching them. They seek harmony among other people, but they sometimes prefer to be alone because of their sensitive nature.” Checks out overall.

The DIY candy kits money is…far too much. Gero please what are you doing. Upon searching, a single package is like, $3.90 USD. So, $1500/$4 = 375 kits per month. That’s 93 per week. That’s 13 per day. Gero is the personification of that one dril “spend less on candles. no.” tweet. --

Kinosaki Mei

DOB: May 18th Blood Type: AB

A marriage swindler. Capable of winning-over any partner within 30 seconds. The possessor of an outstanding "mix-and-match" fashion coordination technique. On days off, ends up lounging around inside the house all day. After a long life in abject poverty, will eat anything. Once survived for 3 weeks based only off of gorging food on dates. Living space is small, and strewn with clutter. Is hiding a big secret. –

＊TL Notes: The original text actually manages to avoid using any pronouns for Kinosaki. Given how Japanese is structured, it’s possible to sometimes drop a subject/object/pronoun entirely, without compromising the sentence. Unfortunately in English that’s much harder to manage, and often ends up sounding like you’re suspiciously trying to avoid the words. I tried to compromise here by arranging the text around. Just know that in the official text, they avoid giving any specific he/she gender markers for Kinosaki as of current.

For Blood Type: “This blood type is the combination of the precise qualities of A types and the free-spiritedness of B types. Given that it’s a rare blood type, people with this type are often perceived as geniuses or [eccentric]. They can be unpredictable and curious. People who belong to the AB type usually jump around from one activity to another, depending on their mood and situation. They chase ideal dreams and pursue learning and knowledge in a wide range of fields. They are calm and rational but have a complicated personality.” Again, checks out for a swindler known for changing to handle any situation.

…Yes the final line does say “a big secret”. Uh. EDIT: Chapter 54 sheds new light on this line! Perhaps it’s not a dirty joke after all, but something far more tragic. 👀

More coming soon!

#marriagetoxin #gero hikaru #kinosaki mei #mei kinosaki #marriage toxin #MT profiles #lmao official Protagonist Syndrome multiple sets of the same clothes #congrats to Gero on becoming an official Cryptid #also November is uhhhh 9 months after Valentine’s Day #does the Gero family celebrate that or…#yknow at the start of the series I wondered if he ate candy kits and nothing else #we’ve seen him eat real food since #but given that budget I Wonder #Gero does the family have a special medicine to control your blood sugar or something #also I want to see Kinosaki eating chips and binging TV on his days off #love how the second line in Kino's could mean win someone in love or topple an opponent #the fashion term specifically refers to re-using the same item in different ways btw #must be that scarf he always wears #Gero’s clean room requirement is rly unfortunate given uh Kinosaki’s profile info #them living together would be a DISASTER

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knights-of-venus-if · 4 months

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Hello. Loved the demo. Especially cuz it's mecha😁

Would you be willing to give sort of a roadmap for the game. What can we expect to see further. Like features or mechanics that have yet to be introduced?

Congrats.

Sure, although I’ll have to throw a big “THIS IS NOT FINAL AND COULD BE SUBJECT TO CHANGE AT ANY POINT” flag on things so, be disclaimed all ye who enter here.

That said, I’m planning a semi-episodic structure, at least at first. My plan, such as it is, is to have discrete missions in the field for various employers, followed by downtime at base, followed by missions in the field, etc. At least at first, no telling how your merc’s life might get shaken up 😉 Currently for what I’m calling “Chapter 1” (no I’m not sure how many chapters there will be per se, although I do know how the plot will go. It’s just a matter of how much meat I attach to that skeleton) there are two missions that the player can take in either order, followed by a bossfight of sorts. I’m probably going to release these one at a time as their done, just because putting out more updates makes me feel better, even if they’re shorter than a massive multi-mission one.

As for mechanics I’ve coded up a little loadout system. Currently I have four weapons that you can take with two slots, which determine what stat (personal and mech) checks are available to you. That combined with simple positioning and other tactics (don’t set yourself up at range with only a pile-driver, or use a sniper if you can’t shoot for shit) will determine how the fights and missions go. For the filthy cheaters out there this is fairly easily modded, if you want to bring all the weapons you can just tick all the variables on after you launch for your mission. One thing I’m mulling over is how exactly your pay works. My current draft has you just getting raw currency you can spend, but I’ve also considered abstracting it away to “upgrade points” or some such. I think I’d like to let the MC spend their blood money on frivolities and cosmetics though, so a cash pile is best for that.

One last thing to mention is augmentation. My current plan is to have an opportunity to improve your skills naturally every few chapters up to a human cap of 5, with the opportunity to go beyond that cap and upgrade more frequently by purchasing augments that improve your performance (this can include literal performance enhancing drugs). I’d like to include the option to forgo it entirely as a sort of “hard mode”, and to discuss the consequences of leaning on it too hard, but the game will likely end up balanced around the player indulging at least a little bit.

Thanks for the ask, hope that’s what you were looking for!

#choice of games #hosted games #interactive fiction #mecha #scifi #asks #game development

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ddelline · 9 months

Text

wip wednesday

blurb | I have nothing 2 say except here is writing from a time before ch236 was released, featuring actual goyuu, so pls savor it (and if yr not someone who checks chapter leaks, I’m happy for u, and pls savor yr happiness)

premise | part 2 of time!loop fic, featuring culling game!goyuu. a bit short, but that’s where we are atm

“Yūji,” warns Satoru.

“Sensei,” replies Yūji. All things considered, he’s remarkably settled, caging Satoru’s lap between his thighs, with the solid mass of him pressing Satoru into the ground. He’s got one palm flat against the dusty floorboards, the other still knuckling Satoru’s shoulder.

“This isn’t going to go the way you think,” says Satoru. It’s not hyperbole, nor is it a lie: whatever it is Yūji thinks, or wants—what Satoru wants; this isn’t going anywhere either of them thinks. Satoru, all that he is and isn’t, is wedged stuck somewhere between a rock and a hard place, with the rock being the inability to live on in a single timeline, and the hard place being an inability to stay alive. Yūji might not remember that countless iterations of Satoru’s been KO’d every which way from Sunday; might not be aware that time as a concept is a fucking lie, a sham. But Satoru does.

This isn’t going to go the way anyone thinks.

Yūji tilts his head. He hums. He eases insistent fingers from the tight clench they’ve fisted Satoru’s jacket in, loosening until he drops his arm. He settles it across the flat span of Satoru’s thigh. Satoru swallows against the urge to abandon sense, caution and thought. “To be fair, sensei, nothing’s going the way I think lately. I’m still alive though. I think that counts for something.”

“You—” begins Satoru. He cuts himself off. The knee jerk instinct—something which he typically never allows himself to follow—to redistribute his own weight and lift the hand which he’d had steadied into the floor at his back, lay it as a mirror atop the straining fabric of Yūji’s thigh, is something he isn’t quite sure why he allows now. There is the faintest echo of a pulse thudding against his palm, and the most miniscule of rippling in Yūji’s muscles, the cords of his quadriceps wavering and shifting with each breath.

Yūji reaches up towards Satoru’s face. Satoru stays put, Six Eyes mapping and contouring his every move, though his eyes remain closed, as they’re wont to do. “Can I?” he asks.

Satoru inclines his head. Yūji digs the tip of his index finger beneath Satoru’s blindfold and tugs it down.

If Satoru were more inclined to go along with society’s conventions, rules and regulations; if he weren’t stuck in a seemingly endless temporospatial reset, apparently destined to eternally live and relive his own worst hits (and his enemies’ greatest); if he’d been born a little less interested in power, and some peoples’ inherent ability to surprise him—there are countless what-ifs and if-onlys, and all of them apply to Satoru.

He’s just never given much of a damn.

Which is why, upon a quiet, not quite-intentional “oh” escaping Yūji as he makes eye contact with Satoru—Satoru who reckons he does his best to not squint into the bright light of indoor dusk, and whose hair promptly spills a mess across his forehead and into his lashes—well, Satoru is less inclined to breathe and consider his actions. He holds Yūji’s gaze, allows for the moment to hang between them; to take shape.

This isn’t going to go the way either of them thinks.

Yūji surges forward, crashing into Satoru by way of a mess of chapped lips and sharp teeth. The precarious balancing Satoru’s done to maintain them both upright and steady is offset as Yūji pitches forward. There are one and two ways to keep them upright, but really, what’s the point? Satoru snaps up and fists a hand in Yūji’s jacket and pulls him down. As they sink down, he tilts his jaw and opens his mouth, welcomes Yūji in wholly, guides his inexperience right and licks into his mouth. It’s filthy, too wet for what it is, but Satoru can’t bring himself to mind any part of it.

Yūji huffs against Satoru’s lips. His hips twitch, the hard length of his dick lining up against Satoru’s own. Satoru hums.

#work: fic #fandom: jujutsu kaisen #goyuu #jjk #wip wednesday #fic: cv/sm

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lovelylogans · 10 months

Text

the parent trap

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: i said a boom chicka boom!

Logan's swept off his feet. As is Maddox, in an entirely different way.

⁂

Janus breathes deeply and slowly as he fills out the information to check out of the hotel, signing the paper with a final flourish.

This weekend. Done with. The reunion with his son and ex-husband, done with.

The extensive legal battle they’re now apparently embroiled in? Just beginning. Remy Zawistowski has told them it will be a long, long lawsuit. But that paperwork will simply have to wait until he returns to London.

Now to that damned plane.

“Have a good flight, Mr. James.”

He manages to tell the concierge thank you instead of asking if he’s being mocked.

“Where’s Roman?” Janus asks Logan, tucking his wallet into his jacket pocket.

“He said he’d be down in just a moment,” Logan says, signing off his own paperwork and quadruple-checking for the presence of his passport.

“All right, then,” Janus sighs.

Patton smiles from where he’s waiting, that bashful, sweet smile.

“Have a safe flight.”

“I’d certainly hope so,” Janus mutters.

Patton’s smile turns more sympathetic. “Still not a big fan of planes, huh?”

“I don’t know how anyone can be a fan of planes,” Janus says, scowling.

The elevator door dings, and Janus looks. Ah, there’s his sons. Except…

“Oh, Remus, what on earth are you about to do,” Patton groans quietly.

…except the two boys are dressed identically from head to toe: hair mussed, gold-and-green earrings, button-downs, black jeans, each wearing one of the other’s trainers to create a mixed pair—one with red right-green left, the other with red left-green right.

And one twin is wearing an orange shirt, and the other twin is wearing a pink one.

“Boys,” Janus says. “What on earth are you both doing? We have a plane to catch.”

“Here’s the deal, Dads,” the twin in orange says, in an American accent. “We thought it over, and we decided we’re being totally hornswoggled.”

“Goldbricked.” The pink twin says in the same accent.

“Swindled, even!”

“I blame you for getting Roman that thesaurus,” Janus tells Logan.

“Papa promised we’d go on our camping trip, and we wanna go,” the orange twin says, switching the accent to English. “Together.”

“What camping trip?” Janus says, turning to Patton.

“The one we go on every summer together before school starts,” the pink twin says in an English accent.

Patton visibly falters.

“Roman, this is ridiculous,” Janus says. “Go upstairs, get your things, and put your proper clothes on.”

The pink twin smiles up at Janus. “Are you sure I’m Roman?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Janus bluffs.

“But it’s kind of hard to be 100% positive,” the pink twin says, switching accents again. “Isn’t it?”

Janus chews the inside of his cheek.

“Boys,” Patton says in a stern tone, putting his hands on his hips. “This is not the time for tricks. You’re going to make your father miss his flight.”

Janus wouldn’t mind prolonging the inevitable flight, actually.

“I know!” Patton says, turning to Janus and brightening. “We’ll check the—”

Except, in a move that must clearly be choreographed, each twin turns, pulling down their left ear.

To reveal identical winestain birthmarks.

Patton slumps, but Janus licks his finger and, in the tradition of parents everywhere, takes the nearest twin and tries to clean away any makeup with spit and his own verve.

“Aw, Dad,” the orange twin says with a laugh. “Won’t it be a shame if you spend all this time trying to rub it off only to find out that one of these is hypothetically applied with waterproof makeup?”

Janus releases the twin, frustrated.

“Remus!” Patton calls.

But the twins are prepared for this too.

“Yes?” They chorus in sly London accents.

“Say ‘ears,’” Janus demands.

“Ears!” Both twins declare, in a thoroughly American accent.

Patton bends forward, staring the orange twin in the face, then the pink.

“This one’s Remus,” he says, pointing to the orange twin. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Pa!” The orange twin says, bright and chipper. “It’d sure be a pain if you ended up sending the wrong kid all the way back to England.”

“But hey, if you’re totally sure,” The pink twin says.

For not being raised together, the pair of them wear smug on their faces in the exact same way.

“Here’s our proposition,” the pink twin says, stepping forward, then beckoning the orange one to stand beside him. “We go back to Pa’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Janus splutters.

“And,” the orange twin says. “When we get back, we’ll tell you which one’s Remus, and which one’s Roman.”

Oh, nuh-uh, no way.

Janus James does not do camping.

“Or,” Janus says. “You do as we say, and I take one of you back to London, whether you like it or not.”

The twins beam up at him.

⁂

Patton probably should be acting a bit stricter and sterner about this.

Probably.

But he’s just so gosh darn excited.

For the first time in their lives—in his life—he gets to bring both of his boys along on the yearly Big Camping Trip. Remus, naturally, has thrived in the times of Big Camping Trip; he’s always been the sort to run out and get muddy, he’s a quick learner, and, of course, all things gross and mucky in nature that seem to drive some away only draws him in.

But now he also gets to bring along Roman.

He is a bit nervous; Roman is, after all, a city boy. But Roman’s also a city boy who just spent his entire summer at an outdoorsy camp.

Patton hopes, very selfishly, that camp didn’t teach Roman everything about thriving outdoors. He’d like to share this with him too.

But there is someone who isn’t very happy about this latest predicament.

“Patton,” Maddox hisses as Patton hauls the boys’ bags of supplies into the trunk. “What am I meant to do at home for three days—sit at home and knit?!”

“It’s a bit of a sticky situation, honey,” Patton says.

Maddox buzzes right on by the pun. “Sticky situation?! What do you mean, sticky situation, what exactly—?”

But, as if on cue, Janus, with sunglasses and wrapped up in a yellow-and-brown flannel that Patton would put ten bucks on him not owning the day before, descends the stairs.

Maddox whirls back to him.

“Excuse me,” he says through clenched teeth. “What is he doing here?!”

Patton sighs, running a hand over his stubble. “That’s part of the sticky situation I was just about to explain, honey. The boys want the four of us to… y’know. Go together.”

“What?!” Maddox says. “What are you, suddenly, the Brady Bunch?! This is ridic—”

“Hello,” Janus says, smoothly cutting off Maddox’s gathering up of steam. “Everything all right?”

“Actually, no,” Maddox says before Patton can jump in. “It isn’t. I didn’t realize you were going on this little outing, and to tell you the truth, I’m not so sure I’m okay with it.”

Janus shrugs. “I agree.”

That seems to take some of the heat out of the situation. Maddox blinks at Janus.

“I mean—ex-husband in the next sleeping bag is a little weird.”

“Thank you,” Maddox says, smiling at Patton, as if to say, there, you see?!

“I absolutely insist that you come with us.” Janus says brightly.

There’s something about the curl of his lips… something about the shine in his eye… But Patton’s too excited about the concept of sharing this camping trip with almost everyone he loves to really dissect it.

“Janus—” Maddox starts, the smile fading from his face.

“No, really, Maddox, it’s the least I can do,” Janus insists. Patton tries not to narrow his eyes at him; that chipper, cheerful voice… Patton’s heard it reflected through their son back at him over the years.

“Oh, Maddox, that would be perfect,” Patton says excitedly. “What a great opportunity to bond with the boys!”

“Well—” Maddox falters.

Janus smiles, placing a hand over his heart, as beatific as an angel. “I’ve messed up your entire weekend, really, please.”

Maddox hesitates. And hesitates some more.

“I don’t know if I have a ton of supplies.”

“I’ll share!” Patton says happily. “Virgil always says I buy too many camping supplies anyway.”

“I’ll…” Maddox swallows, then, “I don’t know if I have the proper things—”

“Oh, Patton’s an experienced outdoorsman,” Janus says briskly. “I certainly don’t have anything. If he says he has enough supplies to cover you, he surely does.”

Maddox sighs.

“Let me go pack some clothes.”

Patton kisses him quickly on the cheek. “I’ll make sure we’ve got all the things you’ll need!”

And so Maddox goes inside to pack.

⁂

“All right, boys, pay close attention to how I tie in everything,” Patton instructs. “You’d be shocked at all the things in your life that can be helped by a well-placed, well-tied knot!”

“Uh, Dad,” one of his sons says; if solely from the color he’s wearing, a green t-shirt under a black flannel with a black handkerchief tied around his wrist, it’s Remus. “What’s Maddox doing?”

Patton glances over, then down at the boys, beaming. “Your father invited him!”

“What?!” The other twin says; white t-shirt, red flannel, red handkerchief tied to keep his hair out of his face.

“I know it’s a change in plans, but don’t worry,” Patton says brightly. “We should have everything we need, and Remus—whichever one of you is Remus,” he adds obligingly, in case they’ve double-bluffed him, “You know this trail well, we’ve gone on it before, you remember that nice, quiet lake up in the mountains? Oh, it’ll be so beautiful at this time of year, I can’t wait for you two to see it!”

The boys exchange a look.

“All right, back to the knot, now,” he says merrily. “I know you two spent eight weeks at summer camp, but I bet your old man’s still got some tricks up his sleeves!”

The boys sigh, but return their attention to Patton fastening the last of their luggage.

Once Patton ties the knot, tugging on it to demonstrate its sturdiness, he opens the door for Maddox to hop in the truck, then the back door for the boys, then hopping into the driver’s seat himself, and—

“All right, all set?” Janus says briskly, and pokes his head in through the driver’s side door, tapping at the window. “Have fun, you four!”

Patton blinks at him. “I thought we were all going?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking,” Janus says, turning his face up to Patton’s. “I really think you and Maddox ought to have some time alone before the big day. Plus, it gives me more time to get a solid sketch for Maddox’s wedding suit.”

“C’mon, Dad, that’s not the deal!” The green twin cries out in dismay.

“Oh, honestly,” Janus says dismissively, waving a hand at the boys. “You’ll have so much more fun without me.”

“Look, if you’re not going, I don’t have to go,” Maddox says hastily. “Trust me, I’m not exactly a big nature guy.”

“But this’ll be your chance to really get to know the boys,” Janus insists, his eyes round and shiny as marbles. “After all, after the wedding… they’re half yours.”

Wait. No. His eyes aren’t shiny. They’re glinting.

But Janus just smiles and steps back from the truck, waving.

“Have fun, you all!”

Patton sees the twins, not quite in unison, cross their arms and scowl and roll their eyes at the world in general.

“Aw, lighten up, kids,” Patton says brightly, turning so they go down the lane. “We’ll have a great time, just the four of us bonding together!”

Weirdly, this doesn’t seem to cheer them up much. Instead, they bend their heads together, whispering in each others’ ears and starting some kind of rollicking hand-slapping game.

⁂

Well, say this for this hiking experience gone awry: it really is beautiful out here.

Roman is in constant awe of how big things are here in the states, this hiking trail being no exception; the woods sprawl as far as the eye can see (some number of miles that Papa has mentioned that Roman has not bothered attempting to calculate into proper metrics) the mountains looming huge in the sky, the trees as tall as skyscrapers. The air here is crisp and fresh; it’s sunny and breezy, meaning it’s not too hot or too cold.

And Papa, seemingly so caught up in the whimsy and beauty of nature, is having the time of his life.

He knows a surprising amount about wildlife, which, when Roman thinks about it, isn’t too surprising; he makes his living growing grapes, it makes sense he knows a great deal about plants, and therefore a great deal about the animals around them.

Also, Papa just seems like the sort who likes all things four-legged and furry, whether they’re Sammy the dog or a cute little beaver that Papa excitedly points out as they’re near the mouth of the river at the very start of their hike.

Roman learns a lot, actually: like the state wildlife for California (grizzly bears, California red-legged frogs, California dogface butterflies, and golden orange fish for animals; California poppies for flowers, and purple needlegrass for grass), the reintroduction of the once-extinct California Condors and Humboldt Martens, and California’s native and invasive snake populations, most of which are perfectly harmless, but there’s easy ways to recognize the seven venomous ones to steer clear from.

Papa knows quite a bit about snakes, actually, which does strike Roman as odd. It doesn’t fit the furry categories most other animals of fascination have in common.

It’s really interesting, so long as he ignores the one huffing and puffing in the back.

Well. Ignoring him and, of course, arranging some tomfoolery.

They’ve arranged themselves strategically; Papa forging the way, Remus behind him, Roman blocking Maddox’s view, and Maddox trailing behind.

It’s not hard, after all, to nudge a rock in the way enough times that Maddox has to constantly keep his eyes on his absolutely impractical, if cute, shoes, to prevent twisting his ankles even more than he already has.

Which gives Remus the cover to sabotage tree branches, which gives Roman plenty of time to trip the trapped branches to thwack back into Maddox’s face with just enough inconsistency to be startling each time.

Roman hears Maddox swear—not even remotely creatively, Remus would certainly do better—and grins to himself, watching Remus’s hand come up to his mouth, surely to stifle his own cackling.

It doesn’t take long until Papa’s distracted, having come to a complete stop, his head craned back to look up at the trees.

“Oh, wow, boys,” Papa calls in a hushed voice. “Shh, c’mere! Look, look—up in those branches!”

Roman obligingly hustles forward, falling into step beside his father as Remus takes his other side.

“Look, right there—do you see that? That pretty shade of blue, by this river?”

Roman puts a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun to see a bird—fairly big, and impressively hidden from their main sightline—a big bird with a straight bill, vibrant as a bluebird, winging from the branches down to the riverbank, flapping its great impressive wings.

“That, boys,” his father says, voice soft, “is a tricolored heron.”

Remus makes a sound of recognition; Roman tilts his head at it, then looks curiously back to his father.

Papa smiles, putting a hand on his shoulder, and nods back to it.

“These ones pretty solitary; they usually live in swamps, or by the coasts. Some other herons live by lakes.”

“There were some at camp,” Remus offers. “But I think those were great blue herons.”

Papa absentmindedly reaches over to ruffle his hair. Remus just continues staring, but he leans into the touch.

“Tricolored herons,” Papa continues, “are more common in this area of the world, but pretty rare outside it. I think they’ve been seen as far south as Brazil, almost always by oceans. I’d bet that one’s near breeding season; a male, probably, judging by that color blue, see how vibrant it is?”

“Cornflower,” Roman provides. “On the body, anyway. It’s a deeper blue near the face.”

Papa smiles at him.

“Yeah, sweetie,” he says, gently adjusting his red handkerchief back into place to keep tidy. “Like cornflower blue. That’s a great observation.”

They all stand in silence, for a while, watching the heron bob about the riverbank, eventually splashing in and diving its head down, coming up with something in its beak that it didn’t have before.

“Cool,” Remus says with relish.

“Yeah,” Papa says. “Really cool. Did you see that, Maddox? What a gorgeous bird!”

“Yes,” Maddox says, through gritted teeth, having caught up to them but standing several feet away, eyeing the nonexistent path they’d taken with some caution. “Nature is so… beautiful.”

Remus turns to smile up at Maddox. “Isn’t it just?”

Roman is the one who has to put a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter then.

⁂

And so they trek along; they stop here and there for water breaks, or witnessing some of the unique flora and fauna in this region of California; once, Papa manages to peek through the trees and point out a doe and a fawn just in time for the three of them to watch them cavort about a sun-dappled valley, all of them silent, as if worried that a single word would shatter their Disney-esque sense of peace.

There is a lot of flora and fauna to be seen. Roman spots the promised California poppies, the great pops of orange against the lush green of the grass, which he’d forced Remus to take a picture of for him to paint later. He also gets to see a variety of little mammals scurrying about—squirrels and chipmunks and voles, mostly, but also the occasional little dormouse or kangaroo rat, which makes Remus coo and Maddox squeal.

No bears or mountain lions or any of the seven venomous snakes that Papa made Remus swear up and down not to mess with, Remus, I’m serious, they could cause some really serious injury, which suits Roman just fine, but seems to make Remus pout a little whenever it’s pointed out.

They also just get to behold some gorgeous scenery: sunlight dappling through the leaves, the view from when they get high up the rocks looking down into the vast forest below, the glimmering, constantly-moving lakes and rivers.

They make a pretty good pace, except…

“I’m gonna kill my trainer,” Maddox wheezes, plopping down onto a rock and slinging his backpack off his shoulders. “He says I’m in such great shape.”

Roman watches Remus bend down and pick up a rock the size of his fist. Roman quickly busies himself with catching up with Papa, doing something to keep himself from giggling.

“I can’t believe people actually do this for fun,” Maddox grouses.

“Hold on,” Papa says, gesturing to Roman as he’s about to buzz by. “We’re stopping.”

“Again?” Remus groans. Roman turns; Remus has done a decent job of hiding his rock of choice from any prying eyes. Instead, he’s got his Polaroid and digital cameras in hand, as if he’d been evaluating which one to use to take a picture rather than weigh Maddox down. “Pa, it’ll take us three days just to get to the lake at this rate.”

Remus, Roman has noticed, only voices this complaint when it comes to Maddox bringing them all to a halt. He hadn’t breathed a word when Roman demanded they stop for photos of the poppies.

“Maddox isn’t used to the altitude,” Papa explains patiently, for what feels like the hundredth time. “Besides, it’s nice to take our time and pause, it doesn’t have to be such a rush all the time. We probably wouldn’t have seen that neat heron if we hadn’t stopped, would we?”

Roman sighs. “I guess.”

Papa pats Roman on the shoulder. “I want to check our progress and consult my compass, anyway. How about you go grab Remus and use his camera to take a picture of something you want to sketch later?”

Roman pauses. “Erm—”

“Oh, sweetie, the jig’s up,” he says in a warm, friendly voice.

“Aw, man,” Remus says from a distance.

“I guessed on each of you before we even hit the road,” Papa says, fiddling lightly with Roman’s handkerchief. “But the heron confirmed it; Remus would know those types of birds after this camping trip, and you kind of tipped yourself off with knowing some niche color names. Your dad always knew the perfect name for any color we ever saw.”

“Aw, man,” Roman echoes, but does as his Pa says.

“If it makes you feel better,” Papa after Roman’s retreating back, “the pair of you can change on the final day before you get out of the tent and I won’t know which of you’s which for the hike back down!”

That does make Roman feel a little better, but Remus just sighs and holds out the Polaroid for Roman to take.

“I already got some wildflower pictures,” Remus says, “on my digital one” and Roman brightens.

“Thanks!” He says, and pivots to pretend to evaluate. “Let’s see… Maddox,” he says. Maddox turns to him, and Remus immediately takes his opportunity to start piling Maddox’s backpack full of stones, “what do you think I should draw?”

“Oh, what do I care,” Maddox groans. “I’m in serious pain—someone hand me my Evian—”

“Sure,” Remus says, zipping up the offending stone-filled pocket in question, then pausing.

“Excellent,” Roman hears Remus whisper, and spies Remus reach for something out of the corner of his eyes.

Roman turns slightly to look.

And he sees a squirming lizard cupped carefully in Remus’s hands, only to find purchase on Maddox’s water bottle.

Roman puts the Polaroid in front of his mouth to hide his grin.

“Here you go, Maddy!” Remus says in a bright, friendly voice, handing over the water bottle.

Maddox unscrews the water bottle, tilts it to his mouth, and comes face-to-face with Roman’s new favorite reptile.

Roman snaps a pic.

The resultant high-pitched scream is absolutely music to Roman’s ears.

Maddox hurls the water bottle away from him and falls off of his rock entirely, screaming still; Papa moves past Roman.

“Honey, are you okay?” He says in concern. “What happened?”

“Aw,” Remus says, as sweet as he can possibly sound, carefully lifting the lizard to eye level. “Pa, look! This little guy was on his water bottle! Isn’t he cute?”

“Oh,” Papa says, sounding relieved that it wasn’t an ax-killer come barreling through the woods, from the sound of the screams. “Here, Remus, put the little fella down, he probably doesn’t want to be held that much. He won’t hurt you, Maddox, that’s a perfectly harmless little guy! I bet he’s a—”

“Ugh!” Maddox shrieks, cutting off any semblance of animal identification that might follow. “Get that thing away from me, I hate things that crawl! Ugh!”

Remus looks offended on the lizard’s behalf, but obligingly secrets the lizard out of Maddox’s sight.

He doesn’t, Roman notices, actually let him go.

“Oh—uh,” Maddox falters, making embarrassed eye contact with Papa. “I’ll be fine—just a shock—you go on, you go on ahead—”

“You’re sure?” Papa says.

“Yes, go on, keep going,” Maddox says, “I’ve just about caught my breath!”

So Papa turns back to his bag, resuming his examination of both compass and map.

And so Papa doesn’t see Remus carefully place the lizard atop Maddox’s once perfectly coiffed hair, falling out of its precious styling with the addition of the sun’s heat and his own sweat.

“Make sure to help Maddox, boys!” Papa says, and briefly forges ahead.

“Sure, you’ll help me,” Maddox growls, pushing himself to his feet and pushing past the twins. “Right over a cliff, you’d help me.”

“Not a bad idea,” Roman mutters into Remus’s ear.

“Yeah,” Remus whispers back, “see any cliffs?”

“Need a hand, Mads?” Roman calls in his brightest voice.

“Not from you, thank you,” Maddox snarls, turning to face them again. “Don’t think I can’t see right through those excuses; I swear I will make your lives miserable from the moment I say I. Do.”

Roman crosses his arms.

“Got it?” Maddox snarls, and pivots again to follow Papa.

“Got it,” Remus says, then, not quite so loudly, “Cruella.”

“What did you just call me?!”

“Oh nothing, nothing,” Roman says breezily, then, so quietly that Maddox would surely question if he heard it again, “Cruella.”

“Oh,” Roman says, pivoting once they’re both past him. “By the way, Mads? I think there’s something in your hair.”

And with that last rebuttal, as Maddox begins to pat at his temples with a confused look on his face, the lizard slithering forward to put a clammy toe on his forehead, Roman turns and hightails it to catch up with Papa before either of them can be blamed for any resultant screeching.

⁂

Janus excuses himself from any semblance of group activity, citing work, which is good. Virgil only kind of knows how to navigate conversation with his best friend’s ex-husband.

But then that leaves him and Logan, alone in the kitchen together.

“Erm,” Logan says. “Do you have any plans for the day?”

“No,” Virgil says, awkwardly patting the counter. “No, not really.”

“No. Me, either. Would you be open to a proposal?”

“...sure.”

“Roman will be upset he’s missed it,” Logan murmurs, then, “I think the weather today is meant to be wonderful. Would you like to go on a picnic?”

“A picnic?” Virgil blurts out.

“You’d know the most picturesque location, of course, given that you live here. We could pack a lunch, a bottle of wine…”

Logan trails off, then takes his glasses off, removing a small cloth from his shirt’s pocket to polish hem.

“You can say no, if you’d like, I wouldn’t be offended.”

His voice is very even and emotionless.

“No!” Virgil blurts out. “I mean—No, that sounds… nice. I would like a picnic. That sounds really nice.”

Logan finishes polishing his glasses, settling his glasses on his nose. “Good! Shall we pack?”

“Okay,” Virgil says, “okay. Um—let me grab something from the cellar.”

“I’ll find lunch supplies,” Logan says, and so they part ways, only to reunite at the back door.

“After you,” Logan says, and so Virgil leads him to the stables, and the question begins to echo around Virgil’s mind.

Is he trying to ask me out on a date? he thinks, even as he introduces Logan to the wonder of petting a horse.

“This is Sprout—have you ever ridden a horse before?” Virgil asks.

“Once.”

“Are you comfortable with riding one again? She’s good for beginners; we got her for Remus when he was a kid. I can ride with you, she can take two.”

“Well—yes, riding with someone else would make me feel more comfortable. So long as you don’t laugh at me for how I attempt to mount it,” Logan says.

“I’ll help—here,” Virgil says, moving closer and offering a hand. “Just put your foot in the stirrup—”

Logan does, uncertainly, but then he takes Virgil’s hand, and Virgil helps push him the rest of the way up so that he slings a leg over Sprout, sitting astride.

“Perfect,” Virgil says. “Just like that. I wouldn’t have laughed at you at all.”

“Well, that must be a success,” Logan says.

Virgil goes and gathers the basket, mounts Sprout sitting in front of Logan, and Logan wraps a surprisingly muscular arm around his waist.

His chest is warm against Virgil’s back.

It’s… very distracting. It’s a good thing Sprout knows the grounds so well, and she never goes into anything quicker than a canter.

“Have you lived in California long?”

“Since Remus was born,” Virgil says. “I was born and raised in Philadelphia—I met Patton when we were pretty young, he was in college and I was bouncing around looking for work…”

And so Virgil tells his life’s story; moving from east coast to west, moving in with Patton to help with Remus and the vineyard, the work he does around the house and around the fields…

Is this a date? Virgil thinks. These feel like the sort of questions one would ask a date.

“What about you?” Virgil prompts. “Have you lived in London long?”

“All my life,” Logan says, and then he starts talking about it—raised with Janus like a brother, doing a lot of the financial, hard numbers-side of the business for the wedding outfits, living with Roman and Janus’s father to help with Roman all this time…

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Logan says as they come to a stop.

It’s field full of local Californian wildflowers; a hidden gem of the vineyard. Riots of blues and yellows and reds against the lush green grass, hidden from most of the rest of the world by a loose ring of trees.

“This is my favorite place here,” Virgil says, and he loops Sprout’s reins about a tree branch so she doesn’t run off.

Logan’s set out a picnic blanket as he does that; Virgil removes the bottle of wine (a classic Parker Knoll chardonnay) and begins to pour it into plastic cups, passing one to Logan.

“Thank you,” Logan says, accepting it, then, “oh, this smells lovely.”

“I’m pretty biased—but thanks,” Virgil says.

“Cheers,” Logan says, lifting the glass. “To you.”

Is this a date?

“To you,” Virgil echoes, and they move to touch glasses.

But Logan’s hand brushes against his, and that does it.

“Is this a date?!”

Virgil’s words hang in the air.

Logan blinks. “Would you like it to be?”

“Do you want it to be?” Virgil says. “It’s just—I’m very out of practice, but. Impromptu picnic… horseback riding… wildflower field… bottle of wine… touching hands…?”

Logan considers this. “I suppose it meets the metrics, doesn’t it?”

Virgil nods.

“All right,” Logan says. “It can be. Only if you’d like it to be, of course.”

“I do,” Virgil says.

Logan breaks out into a relieved smile.

It’s dazzling. Virgil loses the very breath from his lungs at the sight of it, and he realizes that he really quite strongly wants to see that smile again.

“Good,” Logan says. “I hadn’t considered it, but I would like it to be, too.”

“Okay,” Virgil says, then pushes a hand through his hair, swallowing. “Okay. A date.”

“You say that as if it worries you.”

“Everything worries me.”

“Surely not everything.”

Virgil snorts. “I promise if there’s a thing happening, I can find a way to worry about it. All the psychologists and psychiatrists I’ve ever had say so.”

Logan considers this. “Would establishing clear parameters help? In terms of expectations and potential outcomes.”

“Probably,” Virgil says, which he thinks is the nicest way to say sure, it’ll help some, but I’m going to be anxious about this regardless of how often I’m reassured.

“For me too,” Logan admits. “I was never much of a dater. I have very little grasp on how this sort of thing normally goes.”

“Our situation’s not exactly normal, either,” Virgil points out. “I’m your cousin-once-removed’s caretaker…”

“And I’m your ward’s cousin-once-removed,” Logan says.

“No mutual friends who intended to set us up, no lonely hearts ad, no speed-dating conference…”

“Just the matter of my cousin’s divorce,” Logan says.

“Yeah,” Virgil says with a big sigh. “That.”

“Salient points. All right, I suppose it’s time we consider this carefully,” Logan says. “Firstly, if we do indulge in potentially delightful things, and neither of us enjoy it, I suppose we’ll have to suffer a very awkward walk back up to the house and then pretend to find other things to do, at which point we’ll reconvene for dinner and then depart for separate continents shortly after.”

“Only a little painful,” Virgil allows.

“Rather minor hits to the ego, yes, but ultimately survivable,” Logan says. “Then, if we do do those very delightful things and we both enjoy it, then we both enjoy a couple days spent in another man’s company, with the potential to see each other again, considering each of us has a young charge who must be trotted between continents to see each other.”

“Hm,” Virgil allows.

“Not necessarily a deeply romantic long-distance relationship, if we don’t like,” Logan says, scrupulously casual. “Perhaps just a…”

Virgil arches his eyebrows. “An occasional romp in the sheets?”

Logan flushes. “I was going to say mutually-enjoyed dalliance.”

“Oh—yes,” Virgil says, his cheeks heating. “That works as well.”

“We can. Erm. Revisit that proposal.”

“Oh?”

“Perhaps we should start with a kiss first,” Logan says. “Our options are, as discussed—mutual, brief embarrassment; mutual, brief enjoyment; mutual enjoyment that could have the potential to be discussed to be not quite as brief.”

Virgil considers this. He can’t really find a hole in this proposal. So long as Logan keeps to his word—and he seems like the sort who would—the worst of it really is just a little embarrassment. And Virgil gets embarrassed all the time. He can barely check out at the grocery store without getting embarrassed that he’s doing something the wrong way.

With the concept of something so promising… And Logan really is quite handsome…

“Whichever way you consider it,” Logan continues. “I do believe we have nothing to lose.”

“Well,” Virgil says, his voice gone much huskier than normal. “I certainly can’t argue with that logic.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” Logan says, and he leans in and kisses him.

He moves gently and gingerly, as if he’s a little nervous even after all that discussion of the logical thing to do; Virgil certainly can’t blame him, he’s got his hands fisted in his lap to keep from doing anything too improper.

Logan’s tongue brushes against his bottom lip before he pulls back.

“All right?” He murmurs very quietly.

“All right,” Virgil says breathlessly, and they come eagerly back together, and he is no longer worried about propriety, not with the promising hint of tongues and hands and Logan’s body pressed to his…

And so Virgil kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him…

⁂

Roman makes his excuse to step aside as Remus spends a lot of time distracting Pa with questions about potential invasive species they should be worried about. It’s almost too easy, really.

But that provides a fair bit of cover as Pa talks about various fish and plant and bird species that might cause various problems, and the more he talks about various fish and plant and bird species that might cause various problems, the less time he has to notice that Roman is off causing various problems.

Roman slips back at Remus’s side, beholding the lake before them.

“All good?” Pa says, glancing at them.

“Yep!” Roman says brightly.

“Did you do it?” Remus mutters into his ear.

In answer, Roman slips a small piece of sandpaper out of his pocket for Remus to see, then quickly replaces it so no one else will.

“I did the mountain lion stick thing too,” he breathes out, pretending to busy himself with checking his fishing line.

Remus grins. Excellent.

“All right, boys, worms on hooks?”

“Yep!”

Pa glances over at the tent.

“Maddox?” He calls out.

Maddox pokes his head out, looking very uncalm.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Pa says. “We’re fishing for dinner!”

“Fishing?” Maddox says. “With worms?!”

“Yep!” Pa says cheerfully. “Should be a lot of trout this time of year.”

Maddox’s eyes go to the twins and, surely imagining what they could do with a canister of unsupervised worms, calls “I’ll spectate!” and quickly reaches for a pair of shoes.

From Roman’s quietly hissed yessss, they’re the ones Roman’s just spent filing away the soles.

“Okay, boys, let’s cast our lines before Maddox gets here,” Patton says. “You always want to look back, to make sure no one’s caught on your hook—here, you two space out, that might get a bit messy later.”

The twins obligingly shuffle apart.

“And back,” Patton says, demonstrating with his own pole, “and… cast!”

Remus and Roman watch their kid-friendly bobbers land gently in the water.

“Good one,” Remus says, “yours got out pretty—”

“OH!”

The Parkers (and James) turn at the abrupt sound.

“Oh, Maddox!” Pa cries out, taking in the scene. “Maddox, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Maddox says, teeth gritted, from where he’s landed sprawled in the dirt. He, slowly, gets to his feet. “Must have slipped. Um… I’ll just sit right here.”

And he sits on the rocks right next to the canister of worms, giving them a deeply disgusted look.

Roman and Remus snicker together.

And that’s how their afternoon goes: Maddox, keeping a wary eye on the worms and therefore missing the tiny seashells that Remus sneaks into his pockets for the sole purpose of sticking into his shoes to make them even more uncomfortable; Patton, patiently walking them through the finer arts of fishing; and Roman and Remus, each trying their very best to taunt fish into coming to bite by waggling their poles to and fro to make the bait dance appealingly under the water.

And all the while, whenever Maddox seems to try to get up, he slips and falls on the slightly slicker rocks by the lake.

It’s a lovely way to spend time, Remus thinks, even as Maddox manages to make his way over to Pa, to press his reddened lips against his jaw and murmur in his ear.

Pa squeezes Maddox’s waist comfortingly.

“Papa!” Roman cries. “Papa, I think I’ve got a big one!”

“Oh—coming, sweetie!” Pa pats Maddox’s shoulder before he splashes through the shallows to come help Roman haul a fish to the surface; Roman, straining, looks grateful for Pa’s help to pull it to the surface.

Maddox, seeming to realize that he’s left both Remus and the worms unsupervised, takes one step. Two.

Then he yelps and falls, yet again, right on his ass.

But this time, he manages to land in the muddy banks of the lake.

Remus buries his face in his flannel sleeves before he loses it entirely.

⁂

There is something so soothing to Remus’s animal hindbrain about sitting in front of a crackling bonfire, warmed by it as the lakeside night air cools rapidly around them, huddled in a hoodie alongside his brother, and eating something he’s caught and killed.

And also to see the abject, absolute misery on Maddox’s face as he sits, scowling at them, wrapped up in the itchiest blanket that Pa’s brought. That’s pretty soothing too.

“Here we are, fellas,” Pa declares, approaching with an armful of sticks and branches, “this ought to hold us for a while.”

He tosses a thicker branch onto the fire, poking it into place with a stick, before he settles alongside Maddox.

“You sure you don’t want any trout, Daddox?” Remus says, then, “I hope that’s okay, by the way, if I start testing out dad-type nicknames with you.”

“I think your Dad would prefer if you called me Maddox,” he says pointedly. “And no, thank you. I do not eat trout. For the thousandth time.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Pa says, sounding genuinely contrite. “You liked salmon and tilapia, I just assumed seafood would be a go…”

“I will wait for breakfast,” Maddox says. “What are we having?”

“Trout!” Remus and Roman chorus together, in their most annoying voice.

Maddox lets out a great, frustrated sigh, then slaps at his wrist, missing the buzzing bug.

“I’ve got a protein bar, I think, if you’d like—the trout’s part of the experience,” Pa says.

“Mm, and what’s the other part?” Maddox snaps, getting out the bottle the twins had planted in his pack. “Being eaten alive by mosquitos?!”

“Let me see what you’re using,” Pa says, holding out a hand, and Maddox passes it over then grumpily scratches at the bug bites on his legs.

Pa sniffs it, then, frowning, dabs out a bit of the solution onto his wrist, touching his tongue to it.

“Well, you’ll attract every bug in the state with this stuff,” Pa says. “It’s sugar and water, where’d you get it?”

Maddox glowers at the twins.

“Oh, is that where that went?” Remus says cheerfully. “I saw the idea in a magazine, Pa, sugar-water for your instant coffee in the morning.”

Pa levels a stern look over at him.

“In a bottle with a dropper?”

Remus just smiles.

“That’s it,” Maddox declares, throwing off the blanket in a huff. “I am taking one large sleeping pill and going to bed.”

Then Maddox gets up and picks up two sticks from the firewood.

And then he starts clacking them together, leveling an anxious look to the darkness of the woods, where positively anything could jump out at them.

He fell for it, Remus thought gleefully. I can’t believe it, he fell for it—

“Uh, honey,” Pa says. “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t want the mountain lions to—”

But then Maddox falls quiet. Remus snorts around a mouthful of trout.

“There aren’t,” Maddox says, practically gnashing his teeth, “any mountain lions up here. Are there.”

“...No.”

Maddox contemptuously casts the sticks aside.

He promptly cups Pa’s face in his hands, bends down, and tries to suck the very life out of his mouth, clinging to him like some kind of lousy, lusty octopus.

Remus grimaces at Roman, who looks similarly repulsed.

Pa awkwardly clears his throat, smearing a hand over his stubble, before he sets aside the trout and gives the boys an unsmiling look.

“Boys,” he says. “Those were a couple of unkind tricks to pull. Sugar water? Mountain lions?”

Ah, so he hasn't caught on to all the other ones, Remus thinks. Good.

Pa continues, “I’m not marrying him because he’s Annie Oakley.”

Roman blinks. “Who’s Annie Oakley?”

“This isn’t his thing,” Pa says. “You don’t have to make it harder for him. I know that tricks like this are sometimes the way you show affection, Remus, but he doesn’t know you like I do. Just… cool it. Okay?”

The boys exchange a look.

“Okay,” Remus says. Roman’s staring down at his dinner plate. Remus copies him, trying to seem properly repentant. He looks up just enough to see Pa chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“This is going to spoil that talking-to,” he admits.

“No, no, it won’t spoil it,” Remus says hastily. “You were very effective. Practically harsh, even. I feel real chastened.”

“Yes, definitely,” Roman says. “We’ve been told.”

A grin splits Pa’s face. “Who wants some s’mores?”

“Me! Me!” The boys cry out, and so they set aside the issue of Maddox entirely to enjoy their fire-roasted sweets.

⁂

“Okay,” Remus says. “We have to do something tonight. Something big. Maddox said he’s taking a sleeping pill; that give us a lot of ammo.”

Roman hesitates, scratching a fingernail against the artificial material of their tent.

“I’m not sure about this,” Roman admits. “Do you think Papa will get very angry?”

“Pa? He doesn’t really get mad.”

“He might,” Roman says anxiously. “He seemed upset when he caught us at it.”

“Okay, well,” Remus says. “Think about it. Which is more likely to make him upset? Us pulling a couple measly little tricks, or getting trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who’s only with him for his money, who’s bound to start trying to ship us off to military boarding school in Sweden or some crap, and getting Virgil to move out, which means Pa is going to be all alone with him and powerless to do anything, because he still thinks he loves him?!”

Roman’s face has gone paler and paler, while Remus feels himself getting madder and madder.

“And,” Remus pushes, “all the while, Dad is single and standing there as the worst the one that got away ever? Which one would make him more upset, Roman?! I think the tricks are pretty small fry compared to that!”

Roman sets his jaw. Remus meets Roman’s eyes, which have gone flinty and cold.

“Give me every awful idea you’ve got.”

And, gleefully unfurling the pages of his notepad, Remus does.

⁂

It’s very easy for Janus to get lost in his work.

The idea for a design there, a decent surface for him to doodle here, and suddenly hours have slipped away from him.

Being in his ex-husband’s house apparently does not quell that urge.

Janus stands, stretching out his arms and wrists, wandering from his office into the hall.

“Hello?” He calls. “Hello, anyone home? Are you back yet?”

His voice echoes down the way; Janus pivots to examine the (surprisingly modern) tastefully decorated living room.

“Logan?” Janus calls. “Virgil?”

Still nothing. He goes, then, to the kitchen, where Logan’s spare glasses cloth is still waiting.