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hauntedchoso · 14 days

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GROUPIE LOVE *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s so sweet swingin’ to the beat when I know that you’re doin’ it all for me…

How the JJK men fuck you after a show ft. [gojo], [geto], [toji], [choso], & [nanami] x [fem reader] nsfw warning. mdni. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. cw: breeding in gojo’s, daddy kink, semi-exhibitionism, choking, degradation, name calling. established relationships in all despite the title! a/n: this is a repost from my old blog, which used to be a side blog.

Gojo is the singer. His icy white hair and electric blue eyes are quick to capture the hearts of his screaming fans—but those eyes only search for one person in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he stepped onto the stage, and when he finally sees you, he flashes you that award-winning smile, bringing the mic up to his perfect lips. “How are we doing tonight, everyone? We’re going to play a song we’ve never performed live before…”

His presence was magnetic, attracting the attention of hundreds of screaming girls as he sang romantic melodies into the mic. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each word and the way the veins on his hand stuck out as he clutched the mic tightly. Every lyric he sang told a story, and you knew better than all the other girls in the room—he was telling your story. The story of your sweet nights together, the nights you spent gazing into a sea of cerulean blue behind white eyelashes while basking in Gojo’s presence and the beauty of his voice. It was absolutely beautiful, the sweet vibrato’s and clear pitches that escaped his lips as he serenaded his crowd—but it didn’t compare to the beauty of his voice when he was underneath you.

“Fuck, baby—just like that…haah, god damn. You’re so damn tight,” he moaned, unable to keep up with the way your ass slammed down on his thighs. The harder you rode him, the more undone he became underneath you—such a stark contrast to the confidence he always held when he took the stage. His long, pretty cock stroked against your gummy walls, his mushroom head grazing your g-spot when you raised yourself high enough, driving you crazy.

“Satoru,” you mewl, absolutely loving the way his hands grip your thighs for dear life. You guys didn’t have much time; it would only be a few minutes before the rest of the guys returned to the tour bus, where you were holding Gojo as your hostage on the bench-couch in the small kitchenette. You ignored the burning in your muscles as you urged yourself to go faster, not giving him a chance to run away as you brought yourself down repeatedly on his warm cock that was throbbing so deliciously inside your clenching cunt. “Cum in me, daddy, I need it—“

“You better fucking watch it,” he moaned through clenched teeth, frustration seeping into his tone, the grip on your left thigh becoming harder. He couldn’t control how his cock throbbed inside you when he heard the word daddy, and it didn’t help that your luscious tits were bouncing so beautifully in his face. If you weren’t moving so fast, he’d have a nipple in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it. Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the way your tight cunt clenched around his raw dick, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing himself to last longer than he knew he would. He knew you weren’t on birth control, and if you continued to call him daddy in such a slutty tone…well, you’d probably make him a daddy.

His frustration only egged you on more. “I want your cum in me so bad…haah, please…I’m such a little slut for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna fill me with your seed—“

Before you could process what was happening, Gojo had your back flat against the couch, nudging your thighs back apart as he slid himself inside you again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “You want my cum, you fucking slut? Want me to breed you like a bitch in heat? Fine, you better lay there and take everything I give you.”

Geto is the guitarist. The way his gorgeous black hair falls around his face as he slings his guitar strap over his shoulder is mesmerizing. His gauged ears are sporting their usual shiny black plugs, which catch the stage lights with each turn of his head. You watch from the side of the stage, hidden from the view of his fans, as his fingers pluck his lucky guitar pick out from between his perfect teeth, bringing the pick down to play a warm-up riff. He gives you one last sly smile, and a sweet, sexy wink before he starts the opening riff to their first song.

He played his guitar like it was an extension of himself. You watched as his palm slid up and down the instrument’s neck as he followed along to the score, making hundreds of screaming girls howl as he paused and swung it harshly to his right side, flipping it over his neck and catching it again. There was something different about hearing him play the same riffs on stage that he would practice with in the comforts of your shared bedroom, lounging lazily in your queen-sized bed as you close your eyes to the quiet strumming. No, hearing it on a stage was way more exhilarating—he might have thousands of fans in front of him, but you know he’s only playing for you. Watching his long, beautiful, skilled fingers tap away at the neck of the guitar, eliciting different melodic tones and notes when he strums gently. It almost reminds you of the noises his fingers elicit out of you.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Is this all for me?” He purrs into your ear. The same hand that was gently choking you was also keeping your back pinned to the wall as his other hand, shoved deep past the waistband of your skinny jeans, toyed with your weeping folds and rubbed gently against your clit. He smiles down at his lucky guitar pick resting comfortably in your cleavage, loving the way the lacy shirt he bought you accentuates your beautiful body.

“You looked so fucking hot on stage tonight….” You manage to whine out. Your heart was racing out of your chest, eyes darting all around the room that today’s venue designated as the band’s dressing room. A music tech, security guard, or even one of Geto’s band mates could barge in at any given moment, but his fingers were relentless as they slipped into your core.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy welcome in his digits and clench around them. The hand around your neck slid up to your jaw, gripping your face and turning you to face him again. “Yeah? If I’m so hot, why are you looking away from me, pretty girl? My eyes are right here.”

He emphasized his words by curling his fingers against your g-spot, cutting off your mewls of pleasure with his lips and immediately sliding his tongue inside. You were so drunk, so intoxicated by his lips that you felt your eyes rolling back again before shutting and moaning into the kiss; a kiss that was way too short-lived. “Just one, baby. Cum for me just once, and I’ll dick you down the way your little cunt desperately needs it.”

You complied, reverting all your focus to his fingers until you finally came all over them with a loud, slutty moan.

He whipped you around almost immediately, pressing your chest to the wall, pulling your hips out, yanking your pants down and unzipping his own before slapping his hard cock on your ass. “Say please, baby,” he whispers in your ear, taking note of the way you press your ass eagerly against him.

“Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad—!”

And before you could even finish your sentence, Geto was pushing into your warm pussy, using small, gentle thrusts to ease himself in until he was bottomed out. You could feel your walls sucking his hard cock in when his thrusts became deeper; sharp, percussive moans leaving your mouth with each slap of his hips against your ass. His pace was fast and mean, and you were completely enamored with the feeling of his balls slapping your clit.

“Suguru—!” You could feel your orgasm approaching, your walls contracting and clenching around his pulsing cock, but that only made him go faster.

“Dirty little slut. You love when I use you like this, don’t you, angel? Taking my cock like the sweet little slut you are…haah. Letting me use my pussy the way I want, wherever I want…”

Toji is the bassist. The long-necked guitar always looked so small and draped so beautifully across his large, muscular frame whenever he played—so different than the way it looked against your naked body on those nights he was in the mood to snap some photos of both of his beauties. His eyes met yours under the black fringe of his bangs, the scarred side of his mouth curling up into a smirk as his fingers found each string and plucked.

You watched as his fingers danced across the four strings, mindlessly plucking at the four strings, amazed at the way the colorful stage lights were gracing his face and muscular arms. His bass lines were so effortless; he didn’t even need to look down at his hands while he played. His eyes would instead scan the crowd, casting uninterested glances at all the fans screaming his name, and occasionally coming back to meet your own, always accompanied by the sweetest, sexiest grin that reminded you that he was yours. The deep notes that harmonized with Geto’s guitar reverberated off the walls of the concert hall; they shook the speakers, the shook the barriers, they shook your core. But his deep bass lines were no match for how deep his cock always reached inside you.

“Toji! Ah—fuck!” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as the tip of his cock repeatedly mashed against your cervix. “I’m gonna cum! Ah—please! Daddy! I’m really gonna cum!” You warned.

“Yeah? Fucking cum then, slut. I’m not fucking this cunt for nothing.”

When Toji invited you to shower with him after the show, you weren’t expecting him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck you like a wild animal from behind as soon as the water hit your hair. While your showers together always ended in you two fucking, you never thought he’d choose a place so public, a place that puts you both at risk of being heard by your closest friends. This seemed to be the last thing on Toji’s mind as he continues to bully his mean cock into your aching pussy. His eyes remained on your ass, watching his cock pistoning in and out of you while your plump cheeks jiggled with each mean thrust. He knew you got loud when you came, and while it was something you were trying to suppress in order to save face from any of his band mates or techs that might be lingering around outside the bathrooms, it was his one and only goal.

And you did. As soon as he reached his hand down to rub your sensitive clit, you clenched hard on his throbbing cock. Your back arched deeply against him as you squirted hard against the shower wall, a loud squeal leaving your lips.

He grabs your wet hair, turning your head to the side so he can silence you with a bruising kiss. “Gonna do it again, mama? Gonna cum all over my cock again?” He whispers evilly against your ear once he pulls away, quickening his pace. His hips slap hard against the globes of your ass, the loud clap clap clap echoing off of the insulated shower walls.

“Y-yes, daddy, I wanna cum again—“ your words were cut off when he slid two fingers into your mouth, groaning when you bite down on them.

His thrusts were unforgiving, pulling out far enough so that his fat mushroom head pressed harshly against your g-spot when he thrusted forward and hit your cervix. You were so cockdrunk, Toji could sense your oncoming second orgasm before you could by the way your walls were clenching down so hard on him. Before you knew it, you were squirting again, this time pulling a louder, sluttier squeal from your lungs.

“Good girl,” he praises, a wide smile spread across his face as he continued to pound you into overstimulation. “Music to my fucking ears.”

Choso is the drummer. You loved the way those spiked pigtails bounced in the wind as he head banged along to the loud thumping of his drums. His chocolate brown eyes would occasionally meet yours through the band’s set, peaking brightly above the black stripe across his nose, the purple stage lights reflecting across his irises. During the bridge of a particularly romantic song, he cast his gaze towards where you stood side-stage. With a drumstick tipped in your direction, he made sure your eyes were on him as he shot you a wink before his drum solo, as if to say, “this one’s for you.”

Choso pounded on his drums as if he hated them, shaking the stage and speakers so intensely with his mean percussion that you could feel your throat vibrate. You didn’t care what anyone said, Choso controls the show; he counts everyone in, he sets the tempo, he decides how hard his band plays by how he wants to play—and boy, does he play hard. He was often breaking his sticks and putting dents in his drumheads, going through countless numbers of each with every tour he went on. Everything about Choso was hard—the way he plays, his toned muscles, his thick cock, the way he fucks you.

“Ch-Choso! Haah…h-oh my god, you’re so-!” Your hands clutched at everything they could grab so that you could hold on for dear life—the cymbals, the casings on the side of the drums, the drum stands themselves—but to no avail. “Fuck, you’re so deep!”

Choso snickered at your pathetic attempts to stabilize yourself, the sight only driving his hips against your ass even harder. He had you bent over his drum set, the harsh slaps of your skin-on-skin contact echoing throughout the empty concert hall. He purposely made sure to leave his drums on stage as he helped tear down the rest of the set, waited until his band mates disappeared, and ushered every tech, security guard, and janitor out before he stalked and captured his prey, dragging you back to his den. “Don’t run from my cock now, princess. Isn’t this what you wanted? You were giving me slutty bedroom eyes throughout the whole show.”

He paused his violent thrusts for a moment, driving his hips backward to slowly brush the tip of his cock against your g-spot. He marveled at the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he teased your sopping wet core.

“Yes, baby…” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stimulation.

His hips jerked forward, meeting your ass with a singular mean thrust. “I’m sorry?”

You yelp at the sudden jolt of pain and pleasure, eyes snapping wide open as his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Daddy! Yes, daddy! I want you! Please!” you babble desperately.

Choso gave your ass one harsh smack before pounding into you again, settling on an unforgiving pace. He loved fucking you hard. Your walls always clenched him so tight, and he loved your cute little squeals you’d let out whenever his cock kissed your cervix. He loved how hard you always came from it, too—it only made him want to fuck you impossibly harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and he admired the way your ass jiggled each time he slammed against it. The sound of him fucking you created its own erotic percussion that you both somehow loved more than the actual sound of his drums.

“I’ma cum, ohmygod! Ch-Choso…daddy, fuck! I’m cumming!” You whine, unable to focus your gaze as fat tears blur your vision and spill down your face.

“Good girl. Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans, rubbing your clit in gentle praise as you spasm all over his throbbing length. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all fucked out and dumb on my cock.”

Nanami is the manager. His blond hair was always combed into a perfect style, and his soft, brown eyes focused on his surroundings as he effortlessly orchestrated the commotion around him. There was a certain calmness that surrounded him as he guided the band through every moment of post-concert teardown. Every once in a while, his eyes would land on you, where you sat quietly on one of the speaker cases backstage, ignoring his gaze with a small pout across your lips.

The guys in the band would sometimes get a little too crazy after shows or on days off, and they have proved time and time again that they needed someone to keep them in check. Whether it’s passing out drunk outside of local bars, damaging and losing their gear, showing up late to sound checks, or simply being divas with attitude, Nanami swore that he was in charge of a bunch of children, and that you—his perfect girl—were the only one who could do no wrong. Even on nights like tonight, when you were upset with him for reasons that were beyond him, he was happy to pull you aside and get you in check as well.

His lips were on yours, tongue swirling around your mouth as he drank in your moans with fervor. His fingers laced through your hair, resting against the back of your head and using that placement to press your lips more firmly against his as his other hand pressed you against his body. He breaks the kiss for a moment to suck small hickies into your neck.

“What’s got you so worked up tonight, my angel?” He murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down the length of your spine. “I let you ignore me all evening, but you can’t hide from me now.”

“Kento…what-what about the guys?” You ask innocently, a small gasp leaving your lips as his teeth nip the skin over your pulse point rather hard.

“Let’s see; Suguru’s in the dressing room, Toji and his woman are putting on a second concert in the shower, pretty sure I saw Satoru sneak onto the bus…” Nanami uses a finger to tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his, “and Choso’s slutting himself out on stage. Where does that leave me to take my girl, hmm?”

Before you could even answer, he’s kissing you again, whisking you through a side door that exits outside behind the concert venue. Your eyes snap open as you feel a sudden breeze hit your skin, causing you to break the kiss.

“Out here? But-“

He silences you with a hand to your throat. “Yes, pretty girl. Out here. Now tell me what you need, okay?”

Your eyebrows pinched in frustration. His strong hand choking you only aroused your needy cunt. You were supposed to be upset with him for being too busy for you that day, but the sultry tone in his voice was making you horny.

“I need you…please, daddy. I missed you so much today. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

And before you know it, he has your feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips and your back against the hard brick wall as he bullies his cock into your cunt relentlessly. Your moans echo into the night sky, surely being heard by anyone lingering outside the nearby bars and restaurants as Nanami’s balls make harsh contact with your ass with each unforgiving thrust. “You like being a brat? Hm? Knowing daddy will fuck you nice and hard? I didn’t know my perfect girl was such a needy little slut.”

“Yes—yes! Right there, daddy!” You cry, pure ecstasy making your legs shake as his fat, veiny cock brushes the inside of your walls. “Haah—nnggh fuck, I’ma cum…” you slur, drool escaping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“That’s right, princess—give it to me. Give me everything. You like when I fuck you dumb, don’t you, baby? You’re so cute when you’re being a brat. Next time, though, I won’t be as gentle.”

BONUS FOR MY METALCORE GIRLIES

gojo's vocals / geto's riffs / toji's basslines / choso's drumming

please keep in mind that I block minors and ageless blogs. mdni.

please do not steal my work.

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chaethewriter · 1 year

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bf does my makeup q&a

Jack Champion x content creator!reader

In which you record a Youtube video with your boyfriend, the one and only Jack Champion.

word count: 2,3k

Warning: fluff, lots of fluff that it's cringey, this took me 5 days to write bruh I'm lacking

tagged: @viivvriv @genesis4545 @norrisgf @darkcrusadestrawberry @drxwstxrkxy @wafflehousewrold

"Camera, set!" You put your camera on its stand as you flipped the screen around, pointing towards the front for you to see. Jack appeared on the screen as you did so, sitting on the couch in your room as in front of him stood a table with your two makeup bags and a mirror. You pressed record when everything was clear on screen— centered and not lopsided. You took a step back as you watched yourself on screen, thus making him immediately grab you by the waist, putting you down on his lap. He held you tightly against him, his arms caging you from behind, "Mmm, can't you start the intro now?" His face buried in your hair as he spoke, satisfied with the position they were in. But you had different ideas, as you abruptly got off his lap and took a seat next to him, your legs thrown over his lap, "you can't do my makeup when I'm on your lap, pookie." You booped his nose with your nail as the words left your lips. As a response, he groaned as he sat back, resting his back against the soft material of your coach, his hands behind his neck as he watched you through his eyelids. You took your phone out and clicked on the Instagram icon for today's video.

"Hello, pookies! Welcome back to the channel. Today is a very special video as I'm joined by my sweet Jack!" You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him close to you, your cheeks pressed against one another. He brought his arms down, wrapping one around your waist. His gaze settled on your camera as he smiled, "Hi guys!" He greeted your viewers with his other hand raised into the air, doing his familiar greeting sign with his thumb, index, and middle finger. You pulled away from your boyfriend, putting your phone in your lap as you clapped in your hands, "Today! As the title said, Jack here will be doing my makeup as we answer relationship questions you guys have sent me through my story!"

"Follow her insta, by the way! Appearing right here!" Jack is almost a natural, as he did some magician movements with his hands for you to edit your username in. You watched as he did so, making you burst in a fit of giggles, "You're such a natural babe, you should start your own channel."

"What can I say? I'm Jack the Champ!"

"So cringey?" The two of you looked into each other's eyes as you laughed. You clung onto your stomach as Jack clung onto you for dear life. The laughing continued for like five minutes. You really had to cut this out later. "Okay! Okay! So Jack needs to recreate my usual makeup look with the makeup provided while we answer questions. I'm such a kind girlfriend, so I allow him to have a picture of my makeup look on his phone." You explained, pointing at his phone flat on the table with a picture of you opened.

"I just want to announce that I know what my girlfriend looks like and that I already had this picture of her in my gallery as well as hundreds of other pictures I snapped of her!" You rolled your eyes at that statement, a chuckle leaving your lips, "Yeah, yeah! Anyways, let's get started. What do we start with, babe?" You watch as Jack carefully unpacked your makeup bags instead of throwing them upside down. He knew how much you valued your products, and he made sure he was gentle with them. It gave you a warm feeling. He put everything down in a neat order, looking at all the different brushes and products, "so from my acting experience, because you know I'm an actor, they always use the prime thing first? Like to keep your makeup intact?" He looked at you with puppy eyes, asking for approval to his words. You knew you're supposed to not give him any hints, but you couldn't stop yourself from nodding your head. While Jack looked for the 'prime thing', as he said it, you scrolled through the questions you were asked.

"Found it!" The two of you exclaimed at the same time: Jack talking about the primer and you talking about a question. He picked the product up— the glass container filled with a white cream as a lid covered the pump. You smile as he pumped some on the back of his hand and taps it against your skin with his finger, putting both his hands on your cheeks right after and spreading it with his palms. You fell into a fit of giggles as he did so, "Jack!" You exclaimed with your face all squeezed up. Proud of his work, he pulled his palms away and awaited a question from one of the viewers. You brought your phone to your face as you read the first question, "How did the two of you meet? Jack, the honor is to you."

Jack brought his hand to his chin as he pretended to think, thus making you playfully slap his chest, "Don't pretend you don't know, now!"

"Okay okay! We actually met during my Avatar press tour. She was all over me and I thought she was incredibly pretty." He exaggerated what had actually happened and you barely wait to voice this out loud, "That's not how it went! Stop embarrassing me!" Your face heated up as you looked at the camera, "Yes we did meet at his press tour, but I wasn't 'all over him'! I just asked for a picture, posted it, and tagged him in it, and all of a sudden, he was in my DMs. Don't change the story now, mister Champion!"

This time, it was Jack's turn to blush immensely. His secret revealed how he actually made the first move. He recollected himself, before a grin spreaded across his face, "I mean what can I say? I'm a rizzer."

"Oh god, please never say that again."

The two of you laughed as he picked the eyeliner up, "You have a weird way of applying makeup, so this actually comes second. I don't understand why, though?" He uncapped the eyeliner, revealing the inbuild eyeliner brush. "Eyeliner is so hard to do! Like it takes so long cause I want it to be perfect and by the time I am done my foundation isn't correct anymore because of the wiping!" You whined your complaints out, already growing frustrated thinking about the struggle.

Jack put his hand on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, "Sit still, baby. I never did this before so uhm here goes nothing?"

"Don't poke my eyeball, please." You then kept your mouth shut, as if it helped with him doing better. Jack is incredibly delicate with it though— he held your chin with his hand while the eyeliner was in his other staring directly into your eyes as he concentrated on his work. You felt your skin heating up yet again, your grip on the eyeliner tube wet, thanks to your sweaty hands. It doesn't matter how long you're together with him. He never failed to make you feel nervous. He never broke eye contact, not even when he dipped the brush in the eyeliner. His breath fanned against your skin as he leaned in closer, "Are you nervous?"

"Shut up..." Your voice came out softer than expected. Unfortunately, he pulled back to admire his handywork. It's not even, but he is proud either way. "Next question, babe!" He playfully nudged you with a cheeky grin.

"You're so annoying!!" You quickly brought your phone to your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassed state. "But you love me!"

"What attracted you to Jack and vice versa? Definitely his goofy self. I usually don't look at gym guys, but Jack's goofy demeanor and just being himself made me attracted to him, no matter what he does."

"You're so cute!" Jack pulled you closer yet again, basically seating you on one of his as your legs dangled to one side. He faced the camera while his arms held you steady, "What made me attracted to her is definitely her way of texting. You feel her care and love and joy when she texts you. She's so sweet about it too, aren't you?" He faced you again with a cheeky grin, making you blush like crazy, "so annoying!!"

He picked your foundation and concealer off the table in front of you, "These are all too familiar to me, but I can't remember which one goes first?" He looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping to get an answer out of you. This time, you kept your mouth shut as you let him figure it out himself. He pouted at you, putting the concealer down. He uncapped the foundation and looked at the brushes. "Babe, which one? You should help me out, I wanna do good."

You almost give in. Almost. Too bad for Jack though, because you only gave him a cheeky grin. His gaze traveled from your pretty face to the table. There were so many different brushes and sponges. He remembered makeup artists using a big one, but which one? He decided on the latter and took the biggest one in his hand. It needed to spread and cover the entire face, after all, right? He decided to follow his gut and put a few small pumps on the back of his hand. He dipped the fluffy part of the brush against it and pressed it to your face. Like you were a canvas and he was the painter. Your chuckling made him roll his eyes, "stay still! I'm being a professional right now."

"sure you do, babe."

Jack started to feel himself in his role as makeup artist. He didn't wait for you as he immediately got on with the concealer. He tapped the wand under your eyes and on your nose, just like artists do to him. He took a small brush and blended it by tapping it. You watched how the tip of his tongue slips out from in-between his lips, his concentration to the max.

Even though your boyfriend has adhd, he can for sure keep his focus on you the entire day. "Next question! Ohh I like this one. When did you realize you fell in love with each other?" You tapped your chin as you think about it. You have always loved Jack, but when did that go from celebrity crush to a real crush?

"I have always loved Jack, if I am going to be honest. I started following him since his Avatar announcement, but he turned into a crush from the moment he wanted to switch from Instagram DMs to messages." You explained as you locked your sparkling eyes with him, awaiting for his response.

He took a moment to admire you, a warm feeling bubbling inside his chest since he knew the exact moment that he realized. "When you looked up at my face with those worried eyes that held so much care as you held on my arms. You always did so, but there was a time when it didn't feel friendly anymore. It felt like so much more as my heart sped up."

That was all it took for you to literally take off.

You sprinted out the room, towards the bathroom, in pure disbelief. The disbelief that he had actually decided to answer the question like that. The disbelief that a boy could actually be so true to his feelings.

"baby? Where are you going?" Did he say something wrong?

You stood in the middle of the bathroom with your face in your hands, teary eyed as you smudged your makeup. "babe?" He had followed you to the bathroom. When he heard your sobs, he immediately panicked. His arms wrapped around your figure, his cheek resting against the crown of your head as his hands caressed your back, "did I do something wrong?"

"no you just, you're, you." You didn't know why you were crying. Well, you did know the reasoning, but you didn't know why it made you so emotional.

"You truly love me."

"yes, yes I do. Of course I do. More than anything else." He ran his hands over your back. He knew you had a hard time when it came to romance in general. You had told him and he made sure to take good care of you, until you truly believed him. And that you did. He took such good care of you. And he would continue to do so until his very last breath.

Recording was long forgotten as the two of you bathed in each other's arms.

He was so happy to be yours.

BONUS:

"Ow! This hurts! Baby please stop!" After the makeup video, you had begged Jack to do a skincare routine with you. He had agreed, not knowing it could have been this bad. It was charcoal mask day.

"It's supposed to hurt!"

"Why would you do this to yourself? Ow ow wait!" He extended his arms to keep you away from him. He was much taller than you, so it certainly did the job. "But why! What does it do?"

"it deep cleans your skin, basically. Your face is going to be silky smooth when I kiss your face all over!"

He thought about it for a second. Kisses? Lots of kisses?

"Do I get lots of kisses after you pull it off me?" You nodded as a response. He sighed in defeat as he took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. This was your cue to stand in between his legs, his arms wrapping around you immediately. Your fingers made its way to the pulled bit of his dried mask.

"Fine, you can do it! But I expect a lot of smoo- OH MY FUCK AHHH!"

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion is taking my brain over #jack champion headcannons #jack champion imagines #jack champion imagine #ethan landry headcanons #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream #scream 6

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fanfic-obsessed · 4 months

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Duty

Here I try a hand at Emperor Obi Wan. It just feels right.

It starts after Order 66, after the march on the temple. When Obi Wan says that he cannot go after Anakin, Yoda believes him. Instead of Yoda going for Sidious and Obi Wan for Anakin, they reverse it. Yoda heads for Mustafar.

Obi Wan goes for Sidious.He’s so done, traumatized and tired. He is also somewhere between passively suicidal and actively suicidal. He attacks Sidious in front of the newly formed Imperial Senate and no one is more surprised than him when he takes Sidious’s head off cleanly (Sidious did not consider this one tired, hurting Jedi to be a threat and Obi Wan went in full throttle, hoping to do some damage before his death). Even though the Empire is only a few days old at this point, there are some old rules that are already in place, backed by the Force (which is why no one really questions what happens next). One of those rules is the right of conquest.

To the winner goes the Empire.

Now Obi Wan is the recognized Emperor, including to the chips in the Clones. Obi Wan does not want to be the Emperor. Obi Wan wants to go sit in a depression cave and contemplate his infinite sadness in peace, please.

Bail Organa manages to convince Obi Wan that being the Emperor and helping to unfuck everything is his duty (Bail is both semi reluctant-he knows that duty is Obi Wan’s buzzword and hates that he needs to take advantage of that-, and not, as he is pretty sure that is all that is keeping Obi Wan alive right now).

So Obi Wan agrees to be Emperor until they can figure out how to undo the Sith’s great plan (while all 1000 years was not spent creating a web of fucked up laws that slowly built the trap they all fell into, a good portion of that time was). He manages to rescind the Order that the Jedi are traitors, but is not able to deactivate the chips (this is another where the chips turn the clones into Automatons, with no independent thoughts). There is some code phrase that will shut the chips off, but only Palpatine knew it. The Kaminoans are sure that, now that the chips are active, removing the chips will cause brain damage and death to the clones (this is not true, but we are still several months away from Ahsoka and Rex-as the only two who have proof this is patently false- coming back into Obi Wan’s life). Obi Wan has recalled the 212th, unable to stop himself from wanting them around him, even as they are. Yoda successfully captured Anakin, who is currently being held in a medically induced coma until they figure out what to do with him (he is decidedly fallen, but also is coming off as being in middle of a clinically psychotic episode-also both Yoda and Obi Wan are not so secretly hoping there is something that makes his actions…not Anakin of his own free will slaughtering children). Now Yoda is off in the galaxy trying to find Jedi survivors. Mace Windu was found and is Bacta and would be there for a minimum of a year.

Padme is on bedrest for her own safety, and the safety of her children. She is also subject to frequent lectures on seeing an actual medical professional while pregnant. It turns out that she had an uncommon, but not rare, condition that meant that a natural birth would kill her. This condition can only be diagnosed in the third trimester (also notably that this condition could not be fixed with the Force, Light or Dark). Obi Wan cannot bring himself to visit her, if asked he would have the excuse of ‘too busy’ ready to go but the truth was he couldn’t face Padme, whom he had considered a friend, after she had spent so much time lying to him about her relationship with Anakin (Also he now has access to all the instances that Palpatine knew about where both of his dear friends abused their power for the sake of the other). Even after the children are born, Obi Wan keeps his distance.

So we have Obi Wan, holding himself by a thread as he simultaneously tries to: figure out how to undo hundreds of years of damage against democracy, run an empire (if he has to do this, he will do it right), deactivate the chips (this means going through every single Palpatine has ever recorded in hopes of discovering the code- no matter how horrific), figure out a place that the remaining Jedi can live (the temple is out of the question with the death that clings to the walls like a slime). There is no one he can truly trust, not even Bail (For all that Bail entreaty to remain emperor was 100% necessary, it did damage Obi Wan and his friendship in a way that it would take a decade to recover).

It will eventually get better. Other Jedi will come from hiding, giving Obi Wan people he can fully rely on. But right now, about a year into the Empire, Obi Wan is running on the barest fumes, heart sick. He is surrounded by the Senate, whom he does not trust, and the puppeted bodies of the clones, whom he forces himself to treat just the same, to never forget that these are people. He has had to order the clones to ignore any order that contradicts his (in order to prevent abuse by senators) and make an explicit order for the clones to defend themselves and to see to their own needs. He is facing the prospect that there may be no way to undo this damage.

However there is something that no one knows about the chips. Like in cannon, they do eventually break down, as the clones are forced to go against their own morals and fight the chip, it wears it down. The irony is that Obi Wan treating them as sentients causes less wear than Palptine’s treatment.

The 212 love their general, none more so than Cody. As part of that, each one made a point to memorize the signs that Obi Wan was overworking himself. Now Obi Wan is, to the clones trapped by the chips, overworking himself beyond anything they had seen. The chips do not allow for this kind of care, which starts to cause the same kind of wear that cannon saw. While most of the clones do not fight the chips with Obi Wan in charge, the 212th begins to fight even harder.

Their general needs them.

It starts around the 1 year mark, and is so small that Obi Wan thinks he is imagining it. It starts with Cody frowning faintly at a senator bringing another unnecessary problem to the Emperor to solve (something that they should have been able to solve themselves). Then Obi Wan realizes his cup of tea keeps getting refilled (Boil does it when Obi Wan isn’t looking-it both is and is not a breakthrough, the chip means that if Obi Wan had asked for the tea Boil would have provided it, but it is Boil himself that is able to anticipate the need and choose Obi Wan’s favorite tea). Several of his guards (all members of the 212th) subtly herd him down lesser known hallways and paths to his destination, causing him to avoid other senators trying, badly, to curry favor. All the while not able to say anything but “Yes, Sir” or answer direct questions with the least amount of words in a monotone.

Something shatters, just a little, in Obi Wan’s heart at those responses. He continues to talk to any of the clones,including promises that he will find a way to fix this, but does not ask as many questions.

The first substantial sign that the chips were wearing out on their own came from Cody. It was late, Obi Wan had not slept in days, had not eaten in even longer. Cody's voice was raspy, and his words were slow, deliberate (if you have ever spoken to someone with mild aphasia, think of that with long pauses between words). He looked right at Obi Wan and said “You…have…not…eaten.”

Obi Wan found himself whipping around so fast he nearly tripped on the pretentious robes he had been forced into to stare at Cody, whose face was twisted into this incredibly focused look.

“Cody?” Obi Wan asks, breathless.

“You…need…to…eat”

Obi Wan takes another step closer, almost close enough to touch “Cody?”

Cody’s jaw tightens, “We…are..still…here…we…we…we...can…hear…you.”

Then all at once Cody’s face smoothed out again, responding to Obi Wan with a monotonous ‘yes sir’, back under the chips' control.

It is both better and worse for Obi Wan. He now knows for sure that the clones are in there, but he still does not know how to free them. His mindset and self care is bad enough that he actually cannot make the connection between what seems to bring members of the 212th forward in spite of the chips (and Cody is only the first, the spark is usually Obi Wan taking particularly bad care of himself, and that definition is variable for each clone-Helix the head medic is almost himself more than he is controlled within a few weeks).

It is a few weeks after this that Rex and Ahsoka finally arrive. They had been found by Yoda, who convinced them that it was safe to return to Coruscant. Part of the reason they had not believed it before hand was that it was clear that the Clone were still controlled by the chips.

They are the ones to break the news to Obi Wan that the Kaminoans were wrong (and it was they were wrong, not they were lying, they truly did believe that the chips could not be removed after they had been activated), the chips could be removed.

Obi Wan takes that news in, asks a few questions on what is needed to remove the chips, then makes arrangements for the medics to have their chips removed (with the idea that they can then supervise the surgery of everyone else-Obi Wan currently has trust issues and cannot think of letting anyone who is not a clone operate on the 212th, in particular). At that point he sits on the floor of the room they were in and has a small breakdown (Disturbing both Rex and Ahsoka, and bringing his current guard, Wooley, to the point of breaking the chip entirely).

There is still so much to do. Obi Wan still knows that. He still has a duty to keep the Empire together and undo enough damage that it can become a republic again. He still has to live with the horrific things that Palpatine had recorded (experiments, thoughts, his plans for Anakin) and figure out what to do with Anakin (who is still being held in a medically induced coma). The knife’s edge of the politics he has been balancing on has not grown any easier (in fact Ahsoka and Rex, having internalized Anakin's beliefs more than they realized are going to make it more difficult not less).

But Obi Wan has hope, hearing that the clones would soon be free. Through he does not make any kind of suggestion or let himself have an opinion on who goes when for choir removing (save that all of the medics needed to go first so they could sort out who was going next), the medics in charge prioritize the 212th, because Obi Wan desperately needs his battalion back. Also because no one is completely sure that they won’t all give themselves brain damage fighting against the chip.

There are enough medics that Ghost Company is dechipped at the same time, with minimal recovery. Boil and Wooley immediately take charge, while the others lock Cody and Obi Wan into Obi Wan’s ‘temporary’ apartment (What had been Palpatine’s living space- the senate insisted) opening the door only for to provide food while Obi Wan is made to take an enforced ‘vacation’ or at least a ten day (They accept no criticisms, or questions from the Senate. The first senator to protest was shot with a stunner and told to be glad for it-the others decide that they will accept Wooley and Boil as a substitute Emperor).

Cody cuddling Obi Wan produces the first true sleep he had since Utapau. Obi Wan sleeps for a full 24 hours.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #star wars au #fanfiction prompt #codywan #sheev palpatine #bamf obi wan

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purplelupins · 9 months

Text

Salvador

|Better Call Saul|

Part I Part II

Word count: 17k

Lalo Salamanca x Fem!reader

Summery: Reader just wanted a fresh start, but when she starts working in a care home, it seemed that she bit off more than she could chew when she meets a member of her clients family.

Warnings: (this story has smut but not in part 1), slow burn, age gap, mentions of past domestic violence/toxic relationship, manipulation, intimidation, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready),Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings,

Notes: this is dedicated to my dear friend @mandowifey who was a massive part of the creation of this…couldn’t have done it without you🤍

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Even with a world on fire, we often dare to place our faith in the hands of someone who we hope we are not naive to trust. It is perplexing just what desire and blind devotion will drive a person to do. Even in our wildest dreams we cannot imagine what our actions will bring us, or who.

It is a daring game of chicken, so to speak. Seeing who will break first- you or life. Who will bend. Who will be kinder. Who will show love.

Love in and of itself is a treacherous thing. It’s beauty when it is alive and blazing, and the sorrow it brings when it whithers and putrefies.

And you knew it all.

All too well.

There was something comforting in standing under the baking sun of the southern state of New Mexico. With just a suitcase that held a toothbrush, bandages, $3026.50 and a change of clothes, you felt like a little waif from a book published centuries ago. Malnourished, exhausted, nerves shot half way to hell, and bruises still healing. You hoped there was a childish charm to how you looked, but you knew that hope was silly; you resembled more of a drug addict than a stubborn child that wouldn’t come home for supper.

“-miss?”

The first half of whatever had just been asked of you was lost on you; after you had nearly frozen to the spot after exiting the airport, numerous strangers had stopped to ask if you were alright. You forced your eyes to refocus, and found that you were being spoken to by an older woman who looked half irritated and half perturbed. Despondency had that effect on people.

“…I’m- I’m sorry…what?” You managed. Perhaps the Albuquerque sun had begun to bake your brain.

The woman sighed. She was decidedly more irritated. “Christ, I just asked if you were taking this cab!” She said, nodding to the yellow vehicle that was just several feet from you.

You stared at her, then offered her a small smile and shook your head. “It’s all yours.”

There was an uncomfortable lightness to your voice as you fought to stay connected to your body and not float away to Mars. Even you knew it. You didn’t sound like you. Hell you didn’t even look like you.

The woman said something about you taking long enough to answer something simple, but if you were honest you were proud of yourself for even being able to answer her. Just 10 hours ago you had been unable to even form a sentence as your body was plagued with panic; frantically packing what you needed in the span of 5 and a half minutes while your boyfriend - now ex- had been on the phone in the other room. You could still hear the sound of him yelling your name as you jumped in your car and peeled down the street before he could hurt you anymore.

Your heart still hurt from how hard it had been beating.

The taxi pulled away and you watched it go. A warm breeze slipped up your legs, and once it brushed your finger tips, you felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped from a hundred feet above you with you as it’s sole target.

Your eyes stung.

Your fists clenched.

But you had no more tears. Not for him anyway.

You might morn the death of who you used to be…the bright young girl who had a sparkle in her eyes and had yet to see the devil. Your heart broke when you thought of her.

But there was no blood…no body…nothing left to even hint that she was there to begin with. And there was nothing you could do about it.

•Three months later•

“Mrs. Creaner, I know the water tastes funny but I told you- you can’t keep asking your granddaughter to smuggle in alcohol now hand it over.”

“This is supposed to be a free country…” she grumbled as she rooted around over her thigh in her wheel chair, and produced the flask.

You suppressed a smirk at her antics, and held out your hand.

“Ma’am your granddaughter is 7 years old.” You sighed, handing her a styrofoam cup as she begrudgingly handed you the little metal flask.

“Smarter than a lot of you in here too.” She folded her arms and slumped in her wheelchair, “If you’re going to take that from me at least do your job and take me to bingo.”

You nodded and took the handles of the chair and began to push.

The job opening at Casa Tranquila had been a godsend to you all those months ago. Living out of a cheap motel was not ideal, and working in a comfortable retirement care facility on the outskirts of Albuquerque was just what your nerves needed. It certainly came with its difficulties, namely mediating your emotions and avoiding getting your ass pinched, but it paid your bills and gave you a great sense of purpose. In some way it made you feel as if you actually had a family that cared about whether you woke up in the morning.

It was no dream job, but it was what you needed. It kept you occupied and kept the heavy sense of loneliness at bay.

“- we do have to move you. Hector come on now, it’s just like everyday.” Came the voice of one of the senior nurses, Ellie.

You glanced over your shoulder and watched as she wheeled a very displeased elder man in the same direction as you were walking Mrs. Creaner. With careful steps so as to not trip, you turned and cast the man a greeting glance.

“Good afternoon Hector.” You said simply but cheerfully, then nodded to your co-worker in acknowledgement.

The man’s permenant frown twitched.

Hector Salamanca was a fairly new addition to the home, having been emitted just two months after you had started. And if you were honest, he was disliked; staff and patients found him difficult to deal with- which you found unfair. It wasn’t his fault that he could only communicate via the tapping of a single finger, blinking and limited facial expressions. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t coherent too, you knew very well that whoever Hector was before his stroke, he was still very much present behind those greying brown eyes. Certainly he was a grumpy old man, but if you had been in his position you were certain you wouldn’t exactly be a peach.

If anyone took a moment to watch most of the residences, they’d see just how alive most of them were despite their aging bodies; Hector was no different. He had fellow patients who he disliked; enjoyed knocking various objects over to make nurses have to bend over; he had his specific things he liked and didn’t like.

He was still every bit a red blooded man.

And while you weren’t one to play favourites, he was probably the closest thing to it.

You liked that he didn’t hide himself away. He was brash and blunt in his ways- non-verbal or not. Then there was a loneliness in his life that reflected your own; kindred spirits in a way. It pained you to see it at an old age like his. He had very few visitors, aside from when he had initially been dropped off by two men who must have been identical twins. You knew he couldn’t be all bad, and knew that a great deal of his anger must have come from his lack of contact to what family he had, and his inability to communicate. He was only human.

Just as you had expected, Hector made no move to acknowledge that he had heard your greeting. As per residence policy, each client was called by their first name, but since the first day you met that man, you had noted that he seemed more displeased by the informality. He looked furious when he had been wheeled around that first day and introduced as Hector; corners of his mouth pulled tight and down to his chin, eyes wild, nose twitching. Irate.

Your suspicions were only reinforced when you “accidentally” called him Señor Salamanca; he had actually looked you in the eye. A rare occurrence.

With that level of pride, you pondered that he must have been respected or feared before being placed under your care…or simply had a massive ego. And if he wasn’t around for that much longer and was barely existing, you saw little issue with making him feel like his old self by addressing him more formally.

Hector didn’t like a lot of people. Didn’t tolerate them. But he liked you.

Plus you gave him the best jello flavours.

Once the senior nurse placed him in the spot she deemed appropriate, you watched her walk away before dipping your head down to his level, like you always did.

“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said, and smiled when you saw his head twitch ever so slightly in your direction. And that smile only grew when you saw him tap his finger. You hoped it was his way of returning the greeting, either that or he wanted to tell you to shove said greeting where the sun don’t shine.

You hoped he was saying hello. You hadn’t accomplished a great deal in your short life, and you liked to think that making the grouch at work a little happy could be added to your list.

Your days looked very much the same. A nightmare would wake you up at 5am almost every morning, as much as you hated to admit it. You hated how small you felt. Visions of being back with him, under his thumb and living to please him with no favour returned…no love to feel. His voice in your head…his manipulations. You often awoke with your stomach in knots.

You could never get back to sleep after.

By the time the alarm you set sounded at 6am, you would be ready to leave your small apartment. Then it was a half hour drive to work. At Casa Tranquila, you would check in, bring your assigned patients their morning medication and start their routine. The same faces came and went, it was almost a blur some days. But you loved the blur. You needed it. Your mind had only started to heal once your days became blurs that bled into each other, and you were uncertain of what might happen if you changed that.

You pulled your keys from the ignition, and took a long breath deep into your chest. You felt an ache in your chest with how full your lungs were, and only released when you began to feel lightheaded.

Another day.

Having finished with the lunch duties, you took a moment to stretch your back in the nurse’s station before squaring your shoulders like you were tougher than you were. You began your rounds, checking on each elder during visiting hours, and went to enter the main seating area when you stopped short of the simple room.

Your feet ceased to move.

Your eyes went wide.

For the first time since you had met Hector Salamanca, there was someone sitting with him that wasn’t paid to.

A man, to be specific.

He was knelt down in front of Hector with his back to you, and spoke with an almost child-like glee to him. A ringing formed in your ears, and it took you a long minute to finally realize the ringing was not just in your ears at all; the crisp sound of a service bell rang out in the room, and as you stared, you came to find that the sound was coming from…Hector.

Indeed there was a small bell catching the sunlight on the arm of his chair right where his mobile finger usually sat.

You felt happiness fill you as the initial shock subsided. It was a mutual loneliness that had made you take interest in Hector to begin with, and you foolishly hoped that perhaps someone would cure your solitude like this man cured his.

You were staring.

Evidently too long as well, as another harsh ring snapped you out of whatever trance you had been in. Now, however, you could see Hector’s harsh gaze on you- his mouth twitching as he rung the bell again. Clearly having Hector not fully pay attention to him made the man pause whatever he had been discussing. He murmured something to the elder man, and Hector rang his bell again.

You told yourself to just keep walking. But you couldn’t.

The man sat before your patient seemed to catch on, and followed his gaze, which lead to him turning his head, and finally seeing you.

It was his eyes that struck you first.

They glittered like warm honey.

The man looked between you and Hector and murmured something to him, which was met with the usual verbal silence, then he muttered something else and it resulted in a ring. You hoped to God that meant something positive because you had just noticed yet another man standing who you had never seen before standing just a few feet behind the crouched man. He looked very much like some kind of body guard, rather than a friend or family; your heartbeat picked up and you began to wonder just who Hector was. Certainly you had thought he must have been the head of a family and perhaps a business owner, but there was something so militant about the way this man standing there was guarding them.

It couldn’t have been longer than 7 seconds since you had become rooted to the spot, but it certainly felt worlds longer. Once you realized you had frozen, you blinked and forced a polite smile onto your face as you continued your path.

“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said as casually as you could, hoping your nerves didn’t seep through. You hoped you would be able to make it past the men without incident, and you thought you had…but then another ring struck your nerves. There was a pause followed by murmuring, which you didn’t understand but went something along the lines of:

“¿Me estás diciendo que te las arreglaste para que esta linda niña cuidara al tío? Creo que pronto tendré que retirarme y unirme a vosotros, ¿sí?” then another few rings followed by a laugh.

His laugh- the man with the glittering eyes.

You had no idea what he had said, but something about the way he said it made a warmth creep up the back of your neck, and spread to your cheeks at the sound-

Snap

You stopped.

Snap

You turned far more jerkily than you wanted, and to your horror, the man crouching was now staring back at you intently with that smile still on his face, albeit more curt. He held his hand out and beckoned you over with two fingers. You swallowed, but fought to keep your face pleasant. Visitors didn’t usually interact with staff unless they needed something, or it was time for them to go…and you hoped this was one of the two.

You came to stand a few feet from the men, wanting to remain respectful, “Hola gentlemen, it’s nice to see Sr. Salamanca having some visitors.” The professional grin on your face didn’t reach your eyes. You were too nervous for that.

“My tio was just talking about you.” He told you brightly, “Says you’ve been looking after him, hm?” The kneeling man seemed to have no issue with dominating a conversation; you chanced a glance at the bald man standing, but he barely reacted. Goosebumps sprang up on your arms when you looked back at Hector’s nephew; unfamiliar with the direct attention.

“Well I…it’s what I’m here for, Señor.” You managed. There was something about this man that made it difficult to look away. The way his dark hair was combed neatly, and how the stripe of grey on the crown of his head swept into a curl that barely stayed back; how his brown eyes looked black in the shadows, and how the deep lines on his face made his expressions so defined; how his smile stretched so charmingly; how when he stared at you it was like only the two of you existed.

He scared you.

And he could tell.

He wagged his finger at you, “Ahh a humble girl, eh? If my tio likes you that’s good enough for me, niña…but you know- this is perfect!” He smiled even wider as he spoke almost animatedly, but you noted how the smile failed to reach his eyes now. “‘Cause now I’ll know just who to come to if my tio needs anything.” The man’s smile fell to rest as he blinked up at you, speaking so casually, yet you couldn’t help but note the menacing undertone of his words. Your brain was working overtime as you tried to piece things together; all you could come up with was that you didn’t want to upset anyone or say the wrong thing. You were certain these men were not your ordinary visitors, and you didn’t want to find out anything beyond that.

“Consider me accountable, Señor.” You heard yourself say.

A moment passed, and you so desperately wanted to break the stare he gave you, but then it as if nothing had happened when his stellar grin returned. He barked out a laugh at you.

“Esta niña, lo juro...” he said to the man standing, then turned back to you, “Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo.” He beamed. His smile was infectious and you found the corners of your mouth tugging up a little, despite your nerves.

Like a wolf lulling a lamb into false security.

There was something expectant in his gaze as he told you his name, and you assumed it was him waiting to know yours. Tit for tat. The theatrical, charming nature of him coupled with whatever made his smile resemble a predator’s made your stomach flip. He was both sides of a coin simultaneously, and you struggled to process it.

“Y/n…y/n l/n.” You replied to him. Lalo repeated your name a few times, rolling it around in his mouth. Your eyes felt glazed over as you listened to him; like he was hypnotizing you. You hadn’t even noticed how you were wringing your hands, nor how you hadn’t torn your gaze from his.

Lalo patted his uncle’s arm after a moment, “You said no one’s visited my Tio?” His face turned inquisitive and concerned, though almost cartoonish. Like there was a joke you were missing.

You shook your head as you snapped back to your body. Somehow your anxiety was starting to fade, and you chalked it up to having a name to put to his face- it made him feel more human to you, “No. I- I almost started to wonder if- if he had family, Señor Lalo.”

He nodded, which caused the curl of grey in his hair to finally fall over his forehead. Your eyes instantly latched onto it.

He was handsome.

Then faster than lightning, Lalo turned and shot a look to the man standing, then nodded his head understandingly. Almost as if to check with the man to see if what you said was true.

“That will change…you know, you should see us Salamancas- we breed like rats.” He said proudly, and chuckled.

He had a nice voice. Rough and low with an easiness to it.

You felt your cheeks warm at his statement, then nodded and remembered to blink. “Well…I’m happy to hear that- that people will come t-to see him that is.” You murmured, stumbling to correct yourself.

You watched his smile pull into a boyish smirk and you looked down to wipe away a nonexistent fluff from your uniform.

“I promise, you’ll have to smoke me and Nacho outta here. I’m looking after the family business so you’ll see lots of us.” He laughed, and nodded to the man behind him.

You looked at the other man, and smiled a little as if to aknowledge his presence. The stare he gave back to you was…bordering on sympathetic. Not what you expected.

You suddenly felt as if you were bordering on something you shouldn’t, despite your softness for the elder Salamanca.

You decided to trust your intuition.

“Well…I don’t want to intrude on your visit anymore. I’ll leave you gentlemen to it…Sr.Salamanca’s nurse should be by to take him in a little while.” You gave both men a small smile and nodded to Hector, who frowned deeper at the mention of his caregiver.

Lalo seemed to notice the change, and his smile dropped a little in curiosity. You sighed, and came a little closer to Lalo so no one would hear, “Sr.Salamanca doesn’t like her…and between you and me I think he’ll be even more Uh…vocal about it with this beautiful bell.”

Lalo’s eyes went comically wide, but the smile tugging under his moustache betrayed him. He was ecstatic. “Really? Will that be an issue?”

You noticed he didn’t clarify if he was talking about the bell or the nurse.

His charisma began to draw you back in, and you shook your head, “There won’t be an issue.”

He nodded and clapped his thigh, “Excellent!”

His reaction seemed to put you at ease, not that it should have. This man was playful in a very odd way and you didn’t know if feeling comfortable around him was a good thing. But you weren’t sure how long you would keep up with his banter, so you excused yourself.

“Right, well…enjoy the rest of your visit.” You smiled slightly again at both men, and backed away before turning and walking quickly out of the foyer. Your hands were shaking- you weren’t used to such direct conversation- with a stranger at that.

You heard Lalo say say “Adios!” to you, and you cast a quick smile back, but you didn’t stop. Panic began to rise in you as you recalled the last time someone had shown you such an amount of charm…the bastard had eaten you up and you had had to crawl out of his stomach. And there you were: hiding.

As soon as you were down the hall and out of view, you gasped and braced against the wall; your heart was working over time.

“You alright sweetie?” One of the male nurses stopped next to as you as he passed. A nice older man named Jim.

You sucked in a breath and forced a smile, “Y-yeah, thank you…just one of those days.” You reassured him. The man pursed his mouth, but didn’t press anymore as he nodded sympathetically. It was was well known that you were a private person, and you appreciated when someone respected that.

As your chest slowly unclenched, you felt your head grow light. Your poor nerves were so shot that you truly were unsure as to whether that man was just charming and witty, or if he was just trying to get in your head. You couldn’t tell the difference between a genuine interaction and a narcissistic one anymore.

You rolled his name over in your head, and found that you enjoyed how it sounded.

Lalo…

You found yourself mentally throttling your brain over how it began to assume the worst. That you had chosen to lightly insert yourself into an old man’s life when you shouldn’t have; that you were being selfish. Stupid. Dependant. All of the above. You felt the weight of your guilt strain on your shoulders, and you let it.

You were being selfish and childish. You didn’t have a family, and you needed to stop pretending you did just because an old man didn’t hate you.

A little over a week passed since you met Hector’s eccentric nephew, and you had to admit that he had entered your mind a few times despite you actively not trying to think of that family. You felt a pang of hurt in your chest every time you did. You had no business envying them- it wasn’t your place.

That Wednesday was a very pleasant day; there was a light breeze that cooled the air and dried the sweat that gathered on your brow. You rounded the corner of the main living area that fed out into the patio, and as you stepped out, the fresh air made you inhale deeply. As you looked up and down the outside area, you felt yourself pause. He was back. You were met with the amusing sight of Lalo Salamanca retrieve a flask, pour out the jello vitamin mix that sat in front of Hector, and pour a hefty serving of liquor inside the cup. You almost laughed. These elderly people loved their alcohol.

For a couple seconds, you allowed yourself to take in Lalo’s appearance. You knew he was handsome since you first saw him, but you felt as if you could appreciate just how well he cared for himself now. A rich purple polo that pulled tight around his biceps…neat hair and moustache, a polished gold necklace just peaking out against his chest-

Stop it.

You shook yourself and forced your mind to push any thoughts of him out. Your trust in your ability to judge a character was under great scrutiny every since…since you got away.

This man was charming, and that was it.

It was company policy for no alcohol to be on the premises, but instead of making Hector’s day even more miserable, you let him have a few sips as you stayed just out of their view until Lalo hid the flask. Once you stepped out, you let your professional smile settle onto your tired face.

“Good afternoon Señor Salamanca, Señor Lalo.” You greeted them; your nerves were already starting to amp up in his proximity, but you managed to speak with a little less discomfort than last time.

As if to return the greeting, you heard Hector’s bell sound just as the younger of the two turned to you and smiled, “Ahh the humble señorita.” Lalo leaned an arm over the back of his chair- opening his stance. His voice was a pleasant rumble in the back of his throat. You noted that he appeared to be far more at ease this visit. First visits were often the hardest for family- seeing their loved ones in a nursing-home could be a difficult pill to swallow.

Lalo continued, “You got a pretty sweet deal here.” He look at around appraisingly as he took in the patio. Admittedly it was one of the more favoured sections of the home and recently renovated. But he was right, it wasn’t that bad of a facility.

“I can’t complain too much.” You agreed, and folded your hands in front of yourself as you stood between the men. Lalo’s personality was far louder than what you were used to, and the part of you that craved human connection urned to keep up with him; once upon a time you might have had the ability…but not anymore. You admired how quick and bright-burning he was- like a firecracker.

Lalo smiled. “Polite.”

Your brow furrowed, “Sorry?”

He shook his head- smile growing- and looked at Hector then back to you, “Hey there’s nothing wrong with it- you’re humble too…you some kinda saint? You gotta be to work in a place like this- I’d lose my mind.” He laughed and leaned more into his chair.

His statement made you pause for a moment. It wasn’t that far off from the truth- the need for patience that is.

“Taking care of someone can mean accepting them like a part of your family…there’s a real selflessness that you have to find in you, Señor Lalo. For myself it’s a bit easier than most…I-I don’t exactly have much of a family, so Hector fills a pretty big void at the moment.” You said simply. It was the honest truth. You shared your patient’s happy moments and their worst moments; they trusted you with their well-being, so it was only fair that you cared for them blindly- job or not.

It was no small admission- to say that you were isolated- but Lalo had a way about him that loosened your tongue.

He stared up at you for a moment, then huffed out a laugh, “Be careful with a Salamanca, we bite.” He pointed at you playfully, though you gathered that while he was indeed teasing, there was a more serious connotation to his words.

Lalo’s dark eyes glittered with mirth as he regarded you.

“Even you, Señor Lalo?” You tilted your head to the side slightly, and watched him shyly.

The older man’s smile formed into an amused smirk, “Klah- me? Never.” He scoffed, but his bright eyes betrayed him.

This man was trouble.

Your lips tugged upwards as you nodded to both men; his jest was not lost on you. It was as if he wished you would ask him how hard his bite was, but you knew that would likely be a poor choice on your part. “Prey can bite too, Señor,” you quipped.

Evidently your response surprised the man as his thick brows rose up. You felt regret pull at you for engaging in his game, but you didn’t want to immediately back down. Shock was a nice expression to see on a man so sure of himself. You nodded to both men, and took a step back, “Enjoy your visit, Señors.”

You continued your route, and made your way onto your next check-up; the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your skull followed you as you went, and a few eager dings from Hector’s bell rang in your ears.

When you finished with one of your oldest patients, Thomas Lee - who did not get along with Hector at all- you tentatively looked back at the far table; it was empty now. Even Hector was gone. You sighed and pursed your mouth, knowing you were playing with fire with this man. A part of you hoped that he would stop coming, or visit on your couple days off.

Stupid.

You were being stupid, and that was that.

The day ended like every single one before that. With you and your coworkers exhaused, hungry, covered in sticky grime, and back sore. You stood in front of your locker, taking a drink from your bottle when another attendant you knew walked to hers. Samantha…yes, her name was Samantha.

“Hey.” You greeted her, smiling sympathetically at eachother.

“Going home too?” She asked as he took her hair down from its curly bun.

You nodded and retrieved your bag, hoping you had something in your fridge to eat. “Sure am…”

She unlocked her locker and smiled a little, “Saw you talking to that visitor of Hector’s today…he’s not bad on the eyes hey?” She smiled.

You felt your cheeks flush, “Oh, yeah…hes nice.” You replied, not wanting to get into it…but then a thought crossed your mind. “Sam?” You asked her.

She turned to you and nodded. “Mhm?”

“Do…do you know anything about Hector? Ab-about his family?” You murmured, looking up at her.

Her brows hopped up and she shuffled a little closer to you, “Mr. Salamanca?” She confirmed.

You nodded after a moment, not fully certain you were ready, but your curiosity was too strong.

Sam looked around briefly, “Well…I mean you know we’re not supposed to really ask questions or anything…” she began, “…but…I’ve heard a few things.” Sam nodded her head and you noticed her playfulness lessened.

You turned to her fully now and gave her your full attention…she seemed to understand that you were curious. That, and she had been trying to talk to you properly for months and was likely over the moon that you weren’t being skittish.

“I- I’d like to know…” you said a little more gently than you usually did.

She sighed, and nodded. “Apparently…those guys that dropped Hector off were really strange…didn’t speak, and just gave Ronny- the reception guy, remember he quit last month? Yeah him, anyways…they gave him this folder with all of Hector’s information and there was no spot open for the old fart…but after a few phone calls, there was suddenly a spot open. It was so weird, but- I don’t know…” she stopped her speculation but you wanted to hear more.

“Please- it- it’s okay, this is between us.” You reassured her, and you meant it. You had expected her to just brush you off or say no, but now it was as if the name Salamanca was a curiosity to you all.

A beat passed before Sam finished with her locker and shut it. “It just…I don’t speak much Spanish but they always speak so secretively…just…I don’t know they might just be talking about family gossip but sometimes it’s fun to imagine they’re actually some…I don’t know a mafia or cartel family or something.”

As the words left her mouth, you felt the blood drain from your face. Everything that struck you as strange flashed before your eyes and it began to make sense-

“But honestly they’re probably just weird- you should see my folks, they’re nuts. I just like to make stories up for everyone to make the days go faster! See you tomorrow.” She smiled and walked past you, leaving you there with this new possibility weighing heavy on you.

Once you finally pulled yourself from the locker room, and waved a few dazed goodbyes to the staff you saw, you stepped outside and walked out to the parking lot. Your car keys caught on your nurse’s mask as you pulled them from your bag and you tsked them. You were preoccupied with the task as you made your way in the direction of where you parked, and once you freed them and looked up, you froze in the middle of the parking lot.

You knew that curl of grey anywhere. Lalo stood leaning against your car, with his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face pointed at you. Since meeting him, You had yet to see him stand up, and now at his full height, his sturdy frame overpowered you even from a few meters away. He was tall and broad and confident, and you felt very small all of a sudden.

“So! Where are we going?” He said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t even try to hide it.

“Wha-?” You asked as you managed to go closer.

He rolled his eyes “C’mon- you hungry? I’m famished.” He stood away from the hood, and his tone was so persuasive you almost forgot about what Sam had said.

Almost.

You shook your head and tried to be as friendly as you could in an effort to hide how your hands shook, “Really it’s alright, I’m —“

His smile finally dropped. “Get in.”

His statement made you contemplate running. Getting back inside the retirement home and locking yourself in a closet, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t end well. Hell you doubted you’d even make it a few paces from him before his big hand grabbed your hair. So against your better judgement, you nodded and wordlessly handed him the keys.

“There she goes, Atta girl.” He smiled again, and accepted the keys joyfully; this time the creases around his eyes deepened. Lalo slid into the drivers side and started the car. As he went to back out, he cast a look around the inside, and seemed to note that you didn’t take the best care of the car.

“You need a tool box?” He asked.

You buckled yourself in and barely caught what he said as you mentally screamed at yourself for getting in the car. Were you really that stupid? “Wha- huh? Oh-“ you caught where he was looking and cursed yourself for being so sloppy.

You backseat housed several materials you carried with you in case you car broke down -which it had the tendency to do. A pair of wire cutters wrapped in duct tape and some pliers to match, a lug wrench, a jack and a pylon…not to mention a first aid kit and a blanket. “I’m…I uh…just haven’t had the time.” You murmured, “Sorta new here.”

The older man frowned exaggeratedly and rose his brows as if to say “Alright then.” And silently put the car in reverse. He backed out with one hand on the wheel and the other on the back of your seat, and you had no choice but to smell his scent…you didn’t know if it was cologne or something else but he smelled of smoke and whiskey…and something sweet like syrup. Like he had been sitting in front of a fire drinking after dessert.

“So! Why don’t you tell me about yourself.” Lalo navigated easily through the streets, and looked over at you like you were old friends.

You thought for a moment, having taken an interest in a hangnail on your thumb. “Not much to tell, Señor.” You said as you looked up. It wasn’t a lie. Your story was a sad one and not a terribly interesting one at that.

“Cmon.” He dragged the word out, “You said you count my Tio as family…any normal person wouldn’t say that in a million years.” The older man laughed and tilted his head to chase your gaze a little when you averted your eyes.

“Why do you say that?” You asked as you looked down again.

Lalo gave you a pointed look. “Smart girl like you can figure that out, niñita.”

You sighed. It wasn’t as if you could just walk away from the conversation…he had you. Regardless of his motivations, Lalo was undoubtedly protective of his uncle…and you had to respect that. You wished you knew what it was like to have someone so protective, but you could imagine it was liberating.

“You think I have some kind of alterier motive behind my kindness to your uncle.” You said simply, trusting your intuition.

Lalo looked out the window, and you wondered if he had even heard your answer.

“You hungry?” He asked, pointing to a burger joint as he already turned his indicator on to pull in.

The sudden change in topic made you blink, your brain lagging. “I-…sure. Don’t stop on my account though I have food at home.” You squeezed your hands out of anxiousness, but he was already going to the drive thru. You had completely forgotten about how hungry you were for the last hour when you saw him in the parking lot. Now seeing the menu, your stomach growled.

“Whatdya want?” He asked expectantly.

It felt so…domestic. You had gone from being certain you might end up being interrogated in a warehouse to him taking you for food in a matter of seconds. You felt your stomach tighten with unease at the memory of the last person who had taken you through a drive thru; that time however you had been disassociating so badly you didn’t even remember ordering nor eating. Ungrateful he had called you.

Snap snap

Your eyes refocused and saw a large hand in front of your face having just snapped a couple times to get your attention.

You swallowed and sighed to steady yourself.

“What’s good here?” You asked, turning to him.

One of his full brows was raised at your odd behaviour, but his face went back to his playful demeanour instantly. “Depends…but their number 2 and number 8 are good.”

You nodded thoughtfully, “What do you get?”

He held up two fingers, pulling the car up through the drive thru to the speaker, “I’m from the south though so I like to add extra spice. Burns your mouth right off but god it’s worth it, you know?” The lines around his mouth and eyes deepened when he smiled and spoke.

Your couldn’t help but return the smile a little at him. You gathered he could probably befriend anyone he set his sights on. A people person…regardless of how intimidating he was.

“I’ll get the same…but um, I think I’d like to keep my mouth.” You said the last part a little shyly, hoping he wouldn’t take offence.

Lalo laughed, “Too bad, I was looking forward to seeing how red your pretty face would get!”

You…were not expecting that. You didn’t have time to reply or ask him to repeat himself before he was leaning out the window and adding extra fries to your order.

“You ever been to Mexico?” Lalo asked as he started driving again up to the window.

You shook your head, “No…haven’t been to a lot of places.”

He gasped, “No! Really? Ahh man, you’d love it. Best food in the world.”

When the window came into view you instinctively reached for your purse when you saw Lalo already producing a $20, and re-pocketing a wad of cash. He tsked you when he noticed you.

The woman at the window handed him the two bags of food and drinks and he smiled charmingly. “Gracias!” Lalo beamed, depositing your order in your lap, then began his way through the city again.

“Plain number 2 for you and fun number 2 for papi, you like orange? I got you an orange soda, you’re gonna love it. Used to smuggle these bastards when I was a kid…my Tio beat the shit outta me for it.” He laughed as he handed you the drink; shaking his head as he steered the car one handed and rifled through his paper bag with the other.

You accepted the orange coloured soda, brows shooting up. He was…generous. The smell of the burger hit you, and you felt your mouth water. It had been ages since you had a proper meal, even if it was take-out. You tentatively took your food out, and took a bite. You swore stars erupted in front of your eyes as the taste filled your mouth; pleasure sensors in your brain lighting up.

The older man beside you watched you out of the corner of his eye as he ate and drove. A proficient multitasker. You were hungry. Seemingly non-threatening…skittish…but you weren’t off-putting. Tired. Definitely tired.

Lalo pulled off the main road and began the drive into the neighbourhoods; he continued to take the occasional bite of his food as he drove. You wondered how he could be so relaxed constantly. You wondered if he had a single tense bone in his body. He was always at ease…like he was always 10 steps ahead of everyone. He was handsome, and you wondered if he used that as a distraction for what lay underneath; perhaps he was a calculating, plotting and scheming man under all the smiles and goofy theatrics…

Your food was gone within 5 minutes.

When Lalo finally looked over at you, he barked out a pleased laugh when he saw the empty wrapper and your last few fries in your hand.

“Shit, I’d better be careful or you might eat me!” He joked, and took a sip of his soda.

You hadn’t realized it but your shoulders had dropped and your fists had unclenched. You were relaxed.

And the older man beside you knew it.

“Tell me…what do you know about us Salamancas.” He said as if he was commenting on the weather.

You knew the question was coming, how could he not ask?

You put your drink down, and thought carefully. “You’re all very…intense.” You replied.

Lalo laughed, “Good one. What else?”

This time you fiddled with a napkin still in your lap. You didn’t want him to think you actually knew anything, because you honestly didn’t. You used your brain and speculated and observed, but you didn’t know much at all. You knew Hector likes grape jello more than raspberry and that Lalo’s necklace was that of Saint Anne- the Mother of Santa Maria…but that was the extent of what you knew for certain.

“You run some kind of business…here in Albuquerque…and I…I think you’re not just some nobody with an uncle in a nursing home…” You murmured almost to yourself. You half hoped he would ask you to repeat yourself so you could come up with something else…but his ears were as sharp as a fox.

“Ahh see, clever girl. I thought so.” His smile slowly faded into a calm line. “Why do you care for my Tio? Don’t tell me he’s your type- you’ll break my heart.” Lalo’s cheeky grin came back.

The jest did lighten your anxiety a little, just as the food had, but you noted that he ignored the mention it the business. He was evasive. And he was charming while he did it.

You knew Lalo had his doubts about you…even if it was for the home itself and not just you, you were th# lucky bastard who he had chosen to interrogate. If you wanted him to understand exactly why it was that you were so at ease with caring for grumpy elderly people - specifically Hector- you needed him to see your perspective. If this was any other relative of a patient, you would have jumped out of the car or booked it before he could have even gotten you inside…but you had a nagging feeling that the only way this would end well was if you saw it through. No matter how painful it was.

“You didn’t see him for the last 2 months, Señor…” You said gently, “He’s…he’s been alone. Completely. No visitors, no friends amongst the other patients…he’s- well non-verbal patients have a difficult time as it is…but paralysed one’s have it even harder…and I- well…I don’t exactly have anyone…at all really. Don’t have contact with anyone so…I think there’s just a certain level of recognition between people who are alone. I’ve been looking after Hector for two months now…you don’t know how hard it is to see him sit alone during visiting hours- for any of my patients that have to do that for that matter. I wouldn’t wish loneliness on my worst enemy, Señor. He didn’t have anyone and if he died tomorrow I wouldn’t sleep knowing he didn’t at least think someone cared enough to look after him, blood related or not.”

You meant it. You knew your fate was likely destined to be a lonely one, but if you could change that for someone else, then you were going to do your damned best…of course you had to chose a more complicated person but it wasn’t as if you were a terribly lucky person.

Lalo didn’t take his eyes off the road, and it wasn’t until the car stopped that you realized you were outside your little apartment building. Lalo tapped on the steering wheel for a moment, then he turned in his seat to face you.

“You mean that?” He asked, turning his gaze to you.

You went to open your mouth but he gave you a look that pinned you to the spot. He didn’t need to say anything for him to convey “don’t fuck around with me.”.

“You seem to be a busy man, Señor…maybe a wife or even a family,” You mused aloud while you ripped a piece of napkin. Your distracted gaze meant you missed how Lalo’s nostrils flared when you mentioned him having a family, “You must have a comfortable life…one way or another. But not everyone has that. A lot of people don’t. I…I don’t have much…my work is my life right now. Sure they’re not the most lively people to engage with but my patients mean a lot to me…because they take up a lot of my life…and after- well…right now I don’t mind it.” You said with conviction, then sighed, “Sounds sad now that I say it aloud…but don’t doubt me.” You turned to look at Lalo in those dark eyes of his, “Don’t you dare doubt me.”

As you spoke, Lalo’s mouth faded into a firm line under his moustache. But even then, his eyes glittered. He was quiet for a few moments, then he hummed.

“You got a mouth on you, kid.” He rumbled.

You held his stare for a moment. You were certain you had crossed a line with telling him off.

Then, just when you were certain he might jump on you or worse, he broke out in a laugh and smile, smacking the wheel in amusement, “I see why Hector likes you. You got a bite for being a ratoncito…I’d hate to see someone knock your teeth out.” He dropped your keys in your hand and in one fluid motion opened his door and stepped out.

His sense of humour was borderline morbid, but seeing him smile while saying it more reassuring than him not.

You followed suit, and stepped out of the car; Lalo joined you on the sidewalk as he seemed to inspect the neighbourhood. Then as he stood there with his hands at his sides, you remembered that he had no way of getting back to his own car at the nursing home.

“I- Thank you for driving me home, Señor…can I- can I call you a cab?” You didn’t know what else to say. This man had practically interrogated you, bought you dinner, and drove you home. You didn’t know what to do with an interaction like that; we’re you supposed to run and hide or thank him?…or both? You didn’t know why, but regardless of his intentions, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to be scared of him…not really. He was intimidating and imposing, certainly, but it wasn’t as if he was threatening you.

You hated that you couldn’t come to a concise evaluation of the man.

Lalo shrugged and looked down at you. “Nah.” He said playfully.

Your brows scrunched up in confusion and you were about to protest, but then a red car pulled up almost directly behind him with the same man who had been standing with him that first day. Nacho? Nacho.

“Señor Lalo?” You called as he opened the door. The older man turned to you and looked at you expectantly.

“What, still hungry?” He replied.

You forced yourself to look him in the eye.

“If you insist upon giving Hector alcohol…I suggest the second to last table on the patio towards the west. Much fewer eyes.” You said simply.

Lalo smiled widely and pointed his index finger at you. He did that often, you noticed. “I’ll pour you one next time, eh?” He laughed.

You smiled a little. “I don’t think that would end well.”

“I look forward to it!” He smiled even wider and you pursed your lips to keep from returning it. You didn’t want him to know that he was wrapping you around his finger whether you liked it or not.

Lalo sat in the the car, and he waved briefly before they pulled away and left you there with your head still reeling. You didn’t even remember walking up to your apartment or undressing or getting into the shower…but there you were under the warm stream of water trying to understand and rationalise what had just transpired. You were frightened, then at ease, then thankful, then suspicious, then open, then…you head spun. You had become to accustomed to your little quiet bubble with minimal interactions outside of it…and this man had forced his way through it like a freight train.

And what frighted you the most was that you didn’t want him not to.

Your hands shook as you remembered the last time someone had seemed so charming and sweet. You rolled your eyes.

Arms length. You would keep this man at arms length- just like you did with almost everyone else.

Three weeks passed before you saw Lalo Salamanca again.

It wasn’t as if you expected to see him often, or even at all…but the man had a certain way about him that made you miss his presence. He was so all-consuming and confident that it was noticeable when he wasn’t there. You also noticed how Hector’s mood began to drop again. You didn’t blame him.

In an attempt to make the man a little easier to handle, you started teaching yourself some simple Spanish when you had the time. It helped greatly that several clients and staff members spoke it well, and they humoured you in teaching you a few things each day. You supposed they were mostly taking pity on you, but you didn’t mind too much.

You started to feel a little more normal since coming to the scorching city…like you were starting to grow away from where you had run from. You even made a joke that made Jim laugh.

In the back of your mind, you did feel something odd though. Like there was something in your peripheral that you just couldn’t catch. You had sworn that you’d seen the same car on your route for a few days…but you also knew that your paranoia was still very present.

By the second week, you begun to notice how much the language helped around the home. Staff taught you basic things that you said day to day, and your patients helped with more conversational language…your empty head was thankful for the distraction and soaked it up like a sponge. You were tired of the nervous and stressful thoughts that usually occupied the space.

It was early on a Friday when you heard the unmistakable sound of Hector’s bell ringing. You hoped it was that he had gotten his favourite breakfast and not that he had been seated beside someone he didn’t like- you gadnt had enough coffee yet to deal with angry seniors.

There was very little to do following breakfast as the clients enjoyed some free time before activities started; you indulged your curiosity and followed the ringing sound. You sought it out until you came to the patio, and you felt a tiny smile on your lips when you looked past the array of wheelchairs and nurses; there at the second to last table sat two very engaged Salamancas facing away from the entrance you came from.

You saw Lalo give his uncle the occasional sip from the styrofoam cup on the table, and you already knew that was no vitamin mix in there. As you inconspicuously made your way over, checking on a few clients as you went, you began to notice just how tense Lalo seemed from behind. You didn’t want to think that you knew he body language perfectly, but for someone who was usually aloof in his mannerisms, having tight shoulders was far more noticeable.

You slowed your steps once you got closer; they were in conversation. A one sided one but you knew they communicated regardless of Hector’s muteness.

Then you made the poor decision to listen. Your Spanish was very juvenile, but you had come to pick up on a lot - especially phrases and words that were similar to English. Which was why you started to realise that what you were listening to Lalo say was not meant to be heard by anyone but his Tio.

With what you knew and could piece together, you heard a few words that sounded familiar enough; secreto, hombre pollo, establecimiento, restaurante, and quemar. The last one you knew very well thanks to an elderly woman named Pricilla pouring hot tea into the lap of an elderly man named Jerry -evidently his admission of love to her was false and she found out- and his cries of “Quemar!” still rang in your ears. Your mind worked to add everything together and from what you could gather was that there was a restaurant of some kind that could very well end up burned to the ground…and you were fairly certain that Lalo disliked the owner or manager.

Hector’s dinging continued, and you could almost taste the tension growing.

You were about to take the last few strides right up to them, but one word stopped you.

…Cártel.

Every muscle in your body froze simultaneously.

It was no confirmation, but it might as well have been.

It fit.

The respect Hector seemed used to, the rumours, Nacho standing like a guard dog, the lack of visitors, the sudden admission of Hector into the home, the low conversations…you thought back to when he had driven you home and added intimidation tactics to the list. The wad of cash in Lalo’s pocket too.

Then, you felt yourself unclench and a morbid sense of peace washed over you. It wasn’t as if you were reassured; it was that you were still alive. It didn’t mean a lot, but it meant that they either liked you, or had a better use for you…and by god you hoped that use was simply to look after Hector and not to swallow baggies of drugs to smuggle across the border.

And of all people, you had chosen them to befriend.

“There she is!”

You refocused your eyes and as your gaze landed on the man with the skunk stripe on his temple, you let a polite grin grace your features. He was half turned in his chair to greet you- that smile already pulling under his groomed moustache.

“Señor Salamanca, I see you’re enjoying your special juice.” You gave both men a knowing look, then turned back to Lalo, “Señor Lalo, it’s been a little while since I saw you last. I hope you’ve been alright.” You heard yourself say.

You supposed there was no point in trying to run. They had you, and you had let them reel you in; there was no reason to be cold to them. It wasn’t as if you were a cookie cutter Mary-sue yourself.

“Ahh you know how it is…la vida es una locura.” He waved his hand aloofly, resting his arm over the back of his chair. You noticed that he did not elaborate nor answer your query.

“I think I have an idea.” You confirmed both his English and his Spanish.

The easy smile on Lalo’s face seemed to go still. It no longer reached his eyes, and you took a little reckless satisfaction in that.

“Really?” He asked with a prodding tone. You had a feeling he was quick to catch your double meaning.

You smiled tightly, adjusting Hector’s chair since his nurse hadn’t. “Truly.” You replied. “You must be busy…Business doesn’t run itself, I’m sure.” You were walking on ice, and you knew it…but you enjoyed poking at the beast a little.

Lalo’s lips parted at your quip, then he barked out a laugh and pointed at you, “You got some eyes on you.”

You couldn’t remember the full story of Icarus, but you knew he died because he flew too close to the sun regardless of his fathers warnings…and you felt very much like that foolish Greek man. Lalo was a scorching flame and you were standing far too close.

“Always good to see you, Señor Lalo…enjoy your visit.” You nodded to Hector who had been watching the exchange between the two of you, and he dinged his bell at you once.

“Adios.” Lalo gave you a two fingered wave, and you excused yourself.

As soon as your back turned from them, your hands began to shake; adrenaline moved through your blood like a poison or antidote. You didn’t know which.

Jim passed by you with a greeting smile and nod, and you schooled your face quickly. “Could you take Thomas into the bingo room? It’s 2:30.” He said to you, and you welcomed the task to ground you.

“Sure thing.” You murmured.

You didn’t fully remember the rest of the day- you were too busy trying to remember everything you had heard Lalo say to his Tio…jotting things down on sticky notes with poor spelling and guessed words. You almost felt…responsible for what you heard. You knew you were in deep, and you knew that by being curious you were digging yourself even deeper, but somehow you couldn’t stop. It was a sick need to know exactly what you were dealing with.

The day ended like every single one before it; you were exhaused and aching and only had a few thoughts in your head and most of them were of how comfortable your bed would be once you got home. The only difference that day was your anxiety over the notes you had made that day- hoping you didn’t forget any.

You swore under your breath when your keys once again were caught on something in your bag-

“Fancy seeing you here, niña.”

Your head snapped up despite you trying to keep yourself as calm as possible. You swore the older man just liked making you jump.

“Do you practice those lines in the mirror Señor Lalo?” You asked softly, tilting your head up to look at him; Lalo was leaned against your car just as he had taken to doing now.

“You wound me!” He gasped, placing his hand on his chest.

“How long have you been out here?” You asked, standing almost toe to toe to him as he refused to move from his place.

You knew he likely wanted something, and he was using his perfected charm and relentlessness to get it. You internally braced yourself for him to tell you to get in the car again…that he knew you knew more than you let on…and that you should make peace with whatever god you had before putting an extra hole in your head. You didn’t want to think the worst of him and his family, but if that did indeed happen, you wouldn’t be shocked.

But Lalo didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything at first. His smile didn’t falter, though it did lower a little to sit comfortably under his moustache. You watched as he unfolded one of his arms from across his chest and extend his hand to you- what was in it more specifically. There was a little yellow piece of paper folded between his forefinger and middle finger.

“No bedtime stories alright?” He pointed at you with a teasing and cheeky grin on his mouth as he winked down at you.

You took the paper, and felt his skin brush yours for half a second- he was warm. You chose to ignore that, and you focused on unfolding it. It was just a number. His. He had given you his phone number. A cartel phone number. Your brain started reeling again. Then, as you looked at it, you make a mental note that the writing was slanted the opposite way than you usually saw, then you thought for a moment.

He was left handed.

You grinned to yourself at the realisation. You didn’t know why you saved that information, but it made the enigmatic man in front of you seem more human- like knowing he had a belly button or that he had baby teeth that fell out at one time. It was perhaps childish but you liked knowing more about him.

“I-…Thank you.” You said as you placed it neatly into your purse. Once upon a time you would have refused the number and told him it was alright- that you didn’t need it, that if he wanted to get in touch with Hector he could go through the home….but you supposed you knew better now. You knew he didn’t take no for an answer, and you supposed you should show some respect to him for giving you something so personal.

“Atta girl. Don’t work too hard, eh?” He finally moved out of your way and began back to his own -much nicer- car.

“Likewise!” You called to him and he seemed pleased with your answer as he smiled.

You watched the older man get inside his Monte Carlo, and you mirrored him. Your car was hot and the seat radiated unwanted warmth into your back, but you could barely focus on that. You pulled out, and passed his as you went to the exit. Lalo watched you go, and while you waved, he returned it with two fingers extended up from the wheel.

You knew you had errands to run, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to. The notes you had made yourself were burning holes in your pockets, and your want to know what they meant was outweighing your need for groceries and laundry detergent.

In fact, you were so preoccupied with getting home that you didn’t even notice the car that was following you; just as it had been for weeks.

The sticky notes sat arranged neatly on your floor, and your computer stared back at you as you considered your options.

Option 1: try to find proper translations of what was said and risk knowing too much and possible death.

Option 2: tear the papers up and pretend you heard nothing and act like the Salamancas are just an honest business owning family…and possible death because you were naive and didn’t know what you were getting into.

You felt your eye twitch.

Both such tempting options.

But the more you thought, the louder that one word became.

Cartel.

You really know how to pick ‘em y/n…

You sighed and rolled your shoulders as you began typing. You knew that whatever translator you could find wouldn’t be perfect, but you just needed enough to understand. The English to Spanish dictionary you had bought two weeks ago sat open beside you are you poured over the notes you had made. The more you typed and searched and double check, the more your mind began to race- evidently there was indeed more to that family than you had anticipated when you initially befriended their patriarch.

You stared at the translated sentences now, and heaved a sigh.

“We need to burn that restaurant to the ground. I’ll burn it like last time, uncle.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“The chicken man’s establishments are blinding him, can’t see past his greed.”

“He thinks his secret is so fantastic.”

You knew they weren’t perfect translations, but you got the message. There was unrest, and Lalo was sent to deal with it. Whoever this “chicken man” was, he was causing problems.

You let your eyes glaze over as you started to think.

A restaurant.

You checked your notes.

“Restaurants.” Plural.

So a chain of restaurants.

With chicken?

Chicken was a code name? No…Lalo wouldn’t do code names…he mocks people and pokes at their weaknesses, but he’s not the CIA or FBI. He was being literal when he called him the “Chicken man.”

Did he smuggle drugs in chickens? Use it as a cover?

Chicken is their speciality?

You stared at your original note with Spanish.

“Los pollos” …you had seen that somewhere before. You felt your brain stretch as you tried to recall. A restaurant…Los pollos…you started to run the two ideas around in your mind.

Restaurant…Los pollos…restaurant…Los pollos-

Your head snapped up and you frantically scrambled over to your pile of spam mail that you had been ignoring. You knew that name. You did.

You grabbed a chunk of the mail and started sifting through it carefully, scanning every new cellphone, ever greasy pizza place, every-

Your hand gripped blue and yellow ad a little tighter.

The two chicken logo stared back at you.

Los Pollos Hermanos.

No. There was no way.

You couldn’t help the little laugh that came from your chest- either from stress or shock, you weren’t sure. Perhaps a mix of both.

You had driven past it a few times. It was always so clean looking, and you remembered the nice smell you always caught through your window when you passed by it.

You were about to tell yourself that you were being delusional, and that you were too invested in this…but then you supposed the saying of “it’s always the quiet ones” could apply to more than just people. Nice, cookie-cutter restaurants could perhaps be fronts for a drug dealing cartel.

The initial shock began to wear off, and you slowly started to look over what else you had translated.

“I’ll take care of it.” Lalo had said.

Burn the restaurant down, more like…

You wondered what he was capable of. Had he killed people? How many?

Your thoughts strayed to the man himself.

Trouble. That was what you first thought of him.

You thought about his charm and charisma…how he carried himself. He was a confident man in every sense. He adapted his tactics to fit the people he wanted something from…you knew he used it on you too. He was kind and a little pushy but not enough to scare you. He bought you food and drove you home with no immediate expectation…he made you smile and welcomed you. He made you feel seen. Criminal or not…he saw you.

A stupid idea crossed your mind. You knew you were in deep already, and with each passing day it was as if you took a shovel and continued to dig deeper. The thought you had was fuelled purely by your own involvement with the Salamancas and juvenile selfishness.

A stupid impulse to help the two people who made you feel like a human.

Without another thought, you grabbed your bag, checked the stove clock, and were in your car within 5 minutes. You didn’t even bother the change. The route that took you by Los Apollo’s was almost muscle memory, and you were able to let your mind wander as you went. Anything to keep you distracted from what you were doing.

It was closing time once you reached the restaurant. Lights were being shut off, and you could see several workers leaving, and a few more mopping the floors. As you pulled into a parking spot across the street to watch, you noted that there was a level of order to the way duties were carried out. It was methodical and you wondered what kind of training these kids went through…

Every so often, you would see an older man come out to the front and inspect something. His back was straight was he moved just as carefully as the staff cleaned; he was in a yellow dress shirt and tie- nothing significant. The manager or owner you assumed. Your interest was peaked.

You sat there for two hours until almost every single person left. Almost. You waited an extra 20 minutes before leaving, and you were glad you did. If you had left after that those two hours, you wouldn’t have seen that same older man you have observed off and on for 120 minutes exit the building, only now he resembled almost an entirely different person. He was in a sharp black suit, and the change had you so distracted that you didn’t even catch the bulky, black SUV pull in around where the man stood off to the side of the building. Of course, it could have just been nothing- it wasn’t up to you to judge what someone looked like or did after work…but things were clicking together far too easily for you to just gaslight yourself into thinking everyone was Mr.Rogers.

After what you heard Lalo say, you felt your gut sink as you decided that you were indeed not looking at an average business owner. Your I tuition had let you down before, but something about the heat of Albuquerque had you seeing people much more clearly…and if Lalo wanted this man gone, then you had a sneaking suspicion that was a big deal.

The black SUV drove away with the man in it, and you decided that was enough for one night. All at once, your suspicions and thoughts and curiosities were all but confirmed; all you needed was a sign on that man’s back that said “You were right”. You drove home, and welcomed the sight of your small apartment. A morbid part of you half expected someone to be waiting for you when you got back…someone who saw you watching…or perhaps even Lalo himself- perhaps you had become a loose end? But there was nothing. No one waiting for you…just your quiet 400 square feet. Your thoughts were whirling, and sleep seemed like a far away fantasy as you sat on your couch and stared at a crack in the paint.

You had indeed gotten mixed into something far bigger than you- there was no denying that anymore. However, now that you had very nearly completely solidified everything you had wondered, you knew there was no chance in backing out now. You could certainly play dumb for a while…but Lalo was so smart it scared you, and he would figure it out sooner or later.

So you kept digging.

Against your better judgement, you repeated your stakeout the following night. You sat there with a container of takeout, and watched closely. Just like the night before, the business ran, closed, was cleaned and shut up like clockwork.

Methodical.

Careful.

It was fascinating.

This time, however, that older man you had watched last time left in a car already parked there, and it looked far more civilian. You supposed it would draw suspicion if he constantly left work in a black suv. You almost laughed. It was all so ludicrous.

You felt like you were having a strange dream instead of your more constant nightmares. It was far more enjoyable but no less concerning. Where you usually woke up with a tight chest and heart beat so fast it hurt; sweat on your skin and hair sticky, you hope that perhaps if this was a dream that you might wake up and laugh at the idiocy of it all. How silly you were in it. But the more you sat there in your car, and as you drove home, and showered and ate and stared out your window…you started to realise that you were in no dream.

You really were being an idiot. A stupid, impulsive traumatised idiot.

Two days went by after your last visit to the restaurant. Two days of contemplation.

You knew why you were doing those things. You did. But you still found yourself asking yourself why. It was like you craved the anxiety or the adrenaline that came with doing something you know could end badly. What did that say about your mental state?

The file in your hand sat open as you stood behind the reception desk. You had been trying to focus on reading it for two minutes but your eyes repeatedly unfocused as your mind strayed. You just needed to check one of the client’s family member’s number, but you couldn’t seem to even pull yourself together enough for that. You blew the strand of hair that had come free and hung in front of your eyes for the fifth time; you had given up trying to move it.

You heard the main door open and you briefly looked up out of habit, but you took a second glance when you saw that familiar face walk through.

“Good morning Señor.” You said, brows raised in surprise as something stirred in your chest at the sight of his confident strides. This was the first time you had actually seen him enter- most of the time it was like he just materialised out of nowhere.

Lalo rounded the desk to where you were coming out and leaned against it. “Do you know that they’re charging 25¢ more for parking here? It’s criminal, man.” He shook his head.

His statement made a little smile escape you but you schooled it fast.

“I apologise, would you like a word with the owner?” You asked with a little sarcasm, “I’m sure you could talk some sense into him.”

He nodded as if weighing the option, then waved it off and looked around the foyer. “How’s my tio?” He asked calmly, “The old dog up yet?” Lalo looked back at you and flicked his gaze between your eyes. You couldn’t look away. Caught.

You finally tried to tuck the stay hair away again to no avail, and swallowed, “He’s in the activities room. He tipped two full cups of juice over this morning already to look at nurse’s asses when they bent over.” You said as straight faced as you could, though the image had made you giggle to yourself earlier.

Lalo chuckled, “Ese perro viejo no cambia...no harm done, eh?” He reached out and tucked the piece of your hair back behind your ear, then casually started to walk in the direction of the activity room and you took that at your cue to follow him. You had gone still when he had touched you, and you did your best to not let on how shocked you were by the gesture.

Lalo was speaking about something, but while you wanted to listen, you couldn’t quiet find it in you to pay attention. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interesting, or that you didn’t care…it was that you had a startling realisation. You had missed him. That was what you had felt when you saw him…it was happiness. The pleasure of seeing him again. Then when he had moved you hair, you realised how badly you had wanted to lean into his palm.

It startled you.

You scolded yourself. It was a a fantasy. That was it. You were just latching onto him because he spoke to you…hell you might have done the same to the greeter at a supermarket if he was nice enough. It was silly. Just like you.

You walked quietly until you came close to the door, then you stopped and let him go ahead. “Disfrute de su visita, señor.” You said, and the older man paused. Lalo turned to you, but you were already starting to walk past him.

“Gracias, Niña.” He called and you turned and nodded.

You didn’t turn around again, but Lalo watched you walk away for a moment. You didn’t need to see him to know it- his gaze burned. The older man stood there for a moment longer and flexed his hand. You were trouble.

That night, you sat in your car, parked on the street just out of the ring of the fluorescent street lamp light; eyes unfocused, medical mask in hand. It was 3am, and you hadn’t slept a wink. All you could think of was what you were very ready to do.

Another ten minutes went by before you refocused your vision and blinked. You looked across the street, and stared at the empty restaurant. It had been vacant for hours- the only movement you saw were the odd couple pulling into the parking lot for a quick drunken blowjob. Besides that, it was just you and the task you had given yourself.

Breaking and entering wasn’t a skill you appreciated having…but thanks to your ex, you did. He had taken to harvesting copper wires when money got tight…and he had always coerced you into coming with him despite your discomfort and anxiety. “You n me, baby, c’mon.” He would say as he dragged you out of the car. But you always had the sense that it was only you and him until you got caught. Asshole.

You sighed and threw your door open. You might now have known a lot, but you knew how to open a lock and mess with wiring without getting yourself fried in the process. That was enough.

With those old wire-cutters of yours in hand and mask on, you threw up your hood, and moved with the shadows. You rounded the restaurant, and snuck to the back where the staff entrance was locked up well. You half wished that the lock would have been enough to deter you…that you didn’t know how to pick a lock at all. But it didn’t, and you did.

You reached into your pocket, and took a couple small gadgets that you still had from the asshat, and began fiddling with the thick padlock. Your heart was thudding in your ears while you worked away.

What are you doing?

You screamed at yourself mentally, wishing you had an answer to your internal question but you came up with nothing. Only that you needed to do something.

Click

A sigh of relief huffed from your mouth when the lock popped open. Your shaking hands quickly slid it out of place, and you were about to push on the door when you wondered if they had a security alarm set in place. It was entirely possible. But you knew you had your hands covered in gloves and your car not too far if the cops were alerted.

You decided that even if there was an alarm you had enough time to run. With another deep breath, you tugged on the handle of the door, and pulled. To your good fortune, there was indeed no additional alarm.

Once the relief faded, and your focus returned, you made quick work of finding the electrical box. It was on the wall just down from the back door. You thanks god that it was small. You carefully opened it, and stared at the web of wires and switches that greeted you. You groaned a little, and looked at the pliers in your hand, then back at the wires. Your hands trembled more now than you recalled they used to. You supposed your body was forced not to show weakness in front of him…

You shook your head. “Focus.”

Just to be safe, you flicked off a few of the switches that looked to be connected to the wire sets you were eyeing as your target. The last thing you wanted was to get zapped and pass out. It wasn’t as if you were going to clip any…you didn’t want things to completely stop working. Just a few mistakes that would cause a big enough issue for the restaurant.

A half hour passed before you were finally content with the work your had done. Indeed, the web of wires before you now had exactly three faults that would slowly weaken and cause issues throughout the restaurant. Machines not working, and if left long enough they would likely cause a fire. It would mean a plethora of further issues too if an anonymous tip was called in regarding a poor and unsafe work environment.

With a deep breath and a few prayers, you flipped the power back on. The emergency light turned on and the box in front of you fizzed for a moment with the newly damaged wiring, but to your relief nothing exploded.

Your nerves started to come back now that you were finished. You flicked your eyes around and patted yourself down to ensure you left nothing behind, but just as you were doing so, you heard voices. A shot of fear surged through you, and your fight or flight kicked in. The latter won. You were out the back door within seconds and snapping the lock back into place as your mind went into hyperdrive. Your blood ran cold as you heard footsteps rounding the building; you breath felt too warm against your mask and your fingers barely managed to get the lock in place before you had to bolt. You hid in the shadows and crept along the side of the building until you could see your car and you ran. Your heart beat as fast at your legs were moving, and you didn’t stop until you were behind the wheel, and driving away. You felt like you were missing something, but you couldn’t stop to check even if you wanted to.

The sun had risen long ago, and you half wished you had to get ready for work…anything to get yourself busy and distracted from what you had done that night. It was a warm afternoon, and your hands were clammy as you sat on your couch with your phone sitting in front of you and the thick Albuquerque phonebook beside your thigh.

Just pick it up. Pick. It. Up.

Pick it up.

Pick-

You sighed and scratched your head before snatching the receiver up dialling the number you had your finger on in the phonebook.The ringing set your nerves alight as you waited. The monotonous tone lulled your for a moment, so when someone picked up, you almost jumped out of your skin. The person greeted you and introduced themselves with a name you didn’t hear. “How can I help you?” They asked.

You swallowed, but you had to do this unless you wanted the problem you had created to get even worse. “Hello, I-I’d like to make a complaint regarding unsafe working conditions? No, I’d like to remain anonymous please…Yes…yes that’s right. Huh? Oh, at Los Pollos Hermanos.”

“BELOVED LOS POLLOS HERMANOS UNCOVERED”

It was on the front page two days later. Evidentially a tip had been called in that there was severe malpractice in the restaurant, and after a health inspector had been sent…they had found exactly that. Issues with basic wiring- a truly unsafe working environment. Due to something so simple being so wrong, every other aspect of Los Pollos was thus being investigated, and the business had been shut down until further notice.

It was the talk of the nursing home when you came to work, and you forced a look of surprise as people groaned about it. However, while you did feel a small sense of guilt…you couldn’t hide the creeping satisfaction that began to settle in you. It had worked.

There was the tiniest secret smile on your face that got you a few strange looks, but you brushed it off with a “I just slept well.” A part of you was mortified that you had done such a thing…worrying that somehow they knew it was you and that police officers would pull up at any moment to arrest you…but it never happened.

You carried on your day like any other, and you began to seek out Hector in hopes that he had somehow heard what had happened…or perhaps that you could tell him yourself. Then as you walked, you began to feel worry creep into your thoughts.

What if I crossed a line?

What if I ruined one of their plans?

What if Lalo had wanted to be the one to take care of the restaurant?

You started to wring your hands as you walked out to the patio, but your head snapped to a table where you heard a laugh you knew very well. There was no coincidence that Lalo was sat there with his uncle that day- you knew that. And judging by the ringing of Hector’s bell, he was in a good mood.

You weren’t sure that you were ready to speak to him after what you had done…you were filled with so much uncertainty. If he didn’t like what had happened then he would likely track down who had done it and when he found you…that would be it.

You took a deep breath and went to walk back inside, but you were stopped short when a whistle caught your attention. You hated how fast you stopped and turned to it.

Sure enough, that man with the devious smile was staring at you openly with a friendly wave. You hoped to god that he was genuinely happy and not just luring you in. With one last internal whimper, you began across the patio and came to the two men.

“Buenas tardes Sr. Salamanca…Señor Lalo.” You nodded to them both, but you noticed that Lalo simply refused to take his glittering eyes off you- mirth swimming in them.

“Beautiful day, no?” He beamed mischievously, gesturing to the cloudless blue sky.

His charm was still very much in place, and you counted that as a good start, but you knew his mood could change on a dime.

You looked out at the saturated sky, “It is. You seem to be in an extra good mood today, Señor.” You said, then bent down to Hector to gently ask him if he was comfortable or needed water. He didn’t ding he bell, so you assumed Lalo had already done those.

“You ever see what a mouse can do in a house, niñita?” Her asked, still smiling.

You thought for a moment, “Y-yeah I have.” You said, recalling when mice got into the basement of your childhood home and ate through the Christmas decorations.

“They scurry around and get into everything but you never fucking see them. Fast, y’know? Chew through everything…pequeños bastardos destructivos…” he chuckled and shook his head, “I have a…very strong sense that there is a little mouse…right here in this city.” Lalo leaned forward on the table- his forearms flexing. “Causing some serious damage too.” His gaze was heavy and intense. You found yourself starting to feel afraid, but you did your best to keep it at bay.

“A- a mouse, señor?” You asked.

He hummed, “You know what the thing about mice is though, niñita?”

You tentatively shook your head.

“They make tremendous pets.” He grinned.

“I-I suppose you’re right.” You hoped your skin blanching wasn’t as visible as it felt.

Lalo chuckled and leaned back again, and you released a breath. “Someone made a fool out of some competition of ours…their tactics reminded me of a pequeño ratón, you know?”

“Oh?” You asked as casually as you could.

“Yep.” He popped the “p”, “There’s this restaurant which, admittedly is pretty good,” he began joyfully, “And you’ll never guess what happened to it.”

You shook your head and shifted a little.

“Tell me.” You said, hiding your shaking hands behind your back.

“Got shut down.” He said like it was a huge secret, “Yeah, something about a wiring issue. Morons,” he shook his head, “Crazy eh?”

“Yeah…who would’ve thought.” You agreed, mirroring his shock.

“Yeah. Bonkers.” His smile faded from his eyes, but remained on his lips. But there was no anger there, which you counted as a positive thing.

Silence settled over you and you started to squirm. “It’s a good thing though…isn’t it?” You couldn’t help yourself from asking. You needed to know what he thought…whether you should say your goodbyes to this world or if you could actually breathe.

Lalo smiled again. “Sí, algo muy bueno.”

Your ears started ringing as his words settled into your brain.

He wasn’t furious.

He wasn’t vengeful.

You nodded, trying not to show how relieved you were. “Well…it might be unfortunate for that business but I hope your family does well in the meantime.” You sighed as calmly as you could, and picked up an empty cup on the table- anything to hide your trembling hands. “It’s always good to see you Señor Lalo…until next time. Sr. Salamanca your nurse will come get you in twenty minutes alright? Please don’t try and make her deaf this time…” you added after having the memory of the woman yelling every time she spoke for three hours following Hector ringing his bell non stop for 15 minutes. Poor thing could barely hear.

“Adios, niñita.” Lalo murmured just loud enough for you to hear it, and you cast him one last look before you left. You were certain you would never get accustomed to his stare.

The remaining part of the day passed in a blur. Before you knew it the next shift of workers were signing in and you were signing out. The receptionist on that evening bid you goodnight, and you finally felt yourself fall back into your body.

You said a few goodbyes on your way out the door, and you absentmindedly played with your keys. You ran the day over in your head, and while you did feel relieved that Lalo wasn’t angry…you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You swore you forgot something when you had …when you had gone to the restaurant. You hadn’t had the wits to look over everything when you got home, so you were hoping it was just some remaining guilt in you still festering.

There was a light breeze that night. It crept up your spine and tickled your cheeks. You breathed it in as you climbed into your car, and you let yourself relax a little as you pulled out and drove home.

Your building came into view but just when you were climbing out, a body came right up in front of you- caging you between your door and the sidewalk.

“Hola pequeña!”

You stared up, and felt your cheeks warm at the proximity to the older man - his grey streak prominent in the golden setting sun. You felt your skin prickle with goosebumps and your fingers tingled as you fought to find something to say.

You forced a small smile despite how flustered you were, “H-hello Señor.” You said softly.

“Just the person I was looking for. How lucky am I?” He smiled- one arm over the open door and the other on the roof. You were stuck.

“Oh I- r-really?” You hated that you couldn’t stop tripping over your words.

His grin only deepened, “Yeah, you know…almost as lucky as I was when a little mouse decided to meddle with that restaurant, hm?”

You stared at him, not knowing what else to do or say. Your anxiety began to creep back as you started to think that the joy he had shown in front of Hector was just an act after all.

“If you say so Señor… I hope no one was hurt.” You managed to say as his warmth and scent radiated into the air around you.

He laughed and shook his head. “Nah not this time…but I will say that whoever did it was a little nervous I think.” He said as if it was a conspiracy, tilting his head just so.

“Oh?” You asked. Not your most genious of replies but your brain was starting to turn into white noise.

Lalo nodded, and you could tell he was feigning concern; his mouth was in a frown but his eyes were filled with amusement. He was playing with you. “Yeah they left their shitty wire-cutters behind.” The older man reached into his back pocket, and you felt yourself blanch.

“I went by there you know…the day after to give my condolences on the unfortunate findings…And I just so happened to find these. Such an amazing coincidence too.” He smiled, wagging the cutters at you as he spoke.

You continued to stare, as if you moving would cause him to blow your head off; you still couldn’t tell if he was pleased by what happened, and each passing moment didn’t seem to help clarify anything.

“Coincidence?” You asked a little breathlessly.

He nodded brightly.

“Yeah, I mean don’t you have a busted pair like these in your car?” Lalo pointed the metal at your vehicle.

He knows he knows he knows he knows-

“I-I I did…been donating some things though I think they were in the last l-load I did. Haven’t seen them for weeks.” You felt your brain working overtime as you fought to find something to convince him with; you were fine with him not knowing it was you even if he was happy about it…but you weren’t leaping at the chance of telling him that it was you and him not being pleased.

But then, Lalo tsked and leaned away, “Too bad…here I was thinking I might owe you a favour. Guess not.” He shrugged and tossed them into the window you now saw was open. You didn’t remember opening it, and you realised he must have opened it when you were working to check if your wire-cutters were missing.

Then you felt your heart sink. He knew you were lying.

You sucked in a breath and shrugged.

“Even i-if it was me…you wouldn’t owe me anything.” You said, holding your ground as he towered over you.

His brows rose comically.

“No? Some say a favour from a Salamanca is as good as gold.” He rumbled. His breath fanned across your cheeks and he readjusted his hand by your head. You felt yourself almost gravitate towards it.

You nodded and tried to ignore how you couldn’t feel your fingers.

“I’m sure you’re right, señor…” you replied, “Tu tío no me odia y has sido generoso…that’s enough for me.”You watched that mirth return. An morbid amusement.

You watched something in his head click ad he pieced things together in two seconds.

“Ah, ella ha estado aprendiendo... Una chica muy lista.” He winked and wagged a finger at you as he stepped away from you and onto the street.

You might not have gotten every word…but you knew there was a little bit of pride in what he said. Like he was amused by you learning and speaking his native tongue.

“My apologies for interrupting your evening. Adiós!” He was out of your space and walking to his Monte Carlo that you somehow missed when you pulled in.

“G-goodnight, Señor.” You watched him walk. There was a certain carefree confidence to the way his arms hung by his sides. You wondered what that was like.

He drove away with a two fingered salute, and you returned the gesture with a little wave. There was a surge of turmoil coursing through you as you pried yourself away from the sidewalk. On one hand, you hoped against hope that he wasn’t buttering you up only to turn around and end your existence…and the other part of you was trying to stop the first part of you from being so naive.

You strode into your apartment like you had soggy socks- slowly and uneasily. You sat on your couch and stared at the wall.

You fell asleep that night just like every other- suddenly and not knowing that you were being watched. Not that you would ever notice. Hector’s men might now have been as intelligent and inconspicuous as Lalo’s own back home, but they did the job. Every night like clock work; they followed you home, watched your window, and stayed quiet about it. It had been months now. At first it had just been to see if you were an informant or a plant…but after a few weeks, some uneventful phone taps and 24 hour shifts later, it was clear that you were just…alone.

Lalo knew your routine better than you did. Knew that you often sat for stretches of time on your bed or couch upon getting in the door…usually not even doing anything. He knew that you only ordered a full meal from a restaurant once every two weeks. He knew that you had nightmares too- sudden crying or screaming in the night had spooked the men stationed outside your window at first…but after a few nights they got used to it. He could still remember his mother having them when he was a boy and his father would disappear for days…her cries from her room. He knew the sound all too well.

You weren’t a threat. Not really. Lalo was still trying to work out how you had managed to get under Hector’s skin…but he had a feeling that your respect for him gave him a familial sense about you. Like a niece. No…no Lalo wouldn’t get rid of you any time soon, not while you still pleased his Tio, and now apparently looked out for the cartel.

When the men had told Lalo about your late night escapade, he had indeed paid a visit to Los Pollos Hermanos…and he admittedly hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time when he found those old shitty wire cutters of yours. He knew you had spirit but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected that of you.

You were this skittish little thing , but the older man couldn’t help but feel entertained at your antics. You were juvenile and fearless despite your anxious nature. So eager to prove something.

So they watched you.

The following few nights after your impulsive crime, the men had taken to start making little bets. Would you do something else crazy? Was it a one time thing? They kept busy.

You were dull, but you were cute, and they didn’t mind.

They knew you never had visitors, so a week later, when they saw a taxi pull up, and a man get out in front of your building they didn’t perk up. They watched him enter, and lazily observed him; it wasn’t until they noticed how he loitered outside the front door until someone left and he caught the door that they looked at him a little closer.

The man disappeared inside, and they were begining to grow bored of waiting to see if anything if happened until your apartment light turned on.

They watched what they could see of you move through your apartment. One of the men had his binoculars in hand, pressed to his eyes to see more, but all he could make out was your door being flung open, and your home going black.

That was enough for them.

One of the men pulled out his phone, and pressed a speed dial, and waited as it rang.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#tony dalton #lalo salamanca #better caul sall #breaking bad #Lalo Salamanca x reader #breaking bad imagine #better call saul imagine #lalo salamanca/reader #lalo salamanca imagine #bcs fic #better call saul fanfic #tony Dalton x reader

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

Bikini Bottom

pairing: Frat!Chris Evans x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Frat!Chris falls lovesick and clings onto his girl for dear life, it doesn’t help when she’s parading around in a bikini. Overall, Y/n and Chris are the ultimate campus couple 💌 (lovesick puppy chris)

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n posed in the mirror, rightly checking herself out in her newest bought black bikini, the underwear seamed with fine jewels. Hearing her friend’s bedroom door open she saw one of the head brothers of the frat, her boyfriend. Dressed in navy blue swim shorts, the brunette strolled over whistling out in awe, Chris' hands landing onto her sweet behind.

“Why don’t we just slip these off for a min?” He whispered placing his head onto her shoulder, making direct eye contact through the mirror. His fingers naughtily playing with the strings holding up her bikini bottom; giggling she pulled his hands off and turned to face him.

This was one of her first college parties of her sophomore year, it was her best friend’s Lucy’s pool party, and of course a certain frat was invited.

“How’d ya know I was in here pretty boy?” She smiled combing back his hair underneath his backwards cap, his hands now climbing up her waist and settling on her ribcage.

“Little birdy called Lucy told me, how long were you gonna hide all this from me then?” Chris growled grabbing a handful of ass once again, smiling contently as Y/n leant up and kissed his lips gently. Her hands cupped his face while he fondled her softly, his hands going up to her breasts and copping a few feels.

Despite him being a senior, Chris couldn’t help but feel enamoured by the girl in his arms, and it all started because he knocked on the wrong dorm door; the rest was history. Even though frats have this reputation, Chris definitely put his to rest, the poor guy was seen following her around campus like a lost puppy. Holding her books for her, walking her to her lectures, spending his weekends in her bed, taking her home for thanksgiving and even proclaiming their relationship on his social media.

“God how are you all mine? Is life even real right now?” He moaned against her lips, pecking her twice more, their lips moulding perfectly together. Her hands playing with the St.Christopher medallion around his neck, as she pecked his cheek once before turning back around to face the mirror, placing his arms around his waist.

Now Y/n was definitely the more keep to herself kind of girl, her social media was private yet it adorned over 1k followers, courtesy of being Chris' girlfriend. Her only post was one of her dog from years ago, so Chris was pretty shocked when she reached for her phone and told him to pose with her.

She turned halfway, her ass to the camera with his hands gripping onto it for dear life, both of their lips connected in a passionate kiss for all to see, his other hand held onto her waist whilst she held onto his bulging bicep.

“Well that was a lovely surprise” Chris laughed wiping the side of his lips, his shock deepening when he saw her caption it with,

“I’m a handful, but only his handful 🍑” Before pressing post.

“Now what have I done to deserve a place on your VIP post”

“I think it’s time people know for real that you’re taken, and that i’m taken too. I’m serious about you ya know?” Y/n said throwing her phone onto a table, her eyes landing on Chris’ chest on the multitude of tattoos covering it, her heart pounding waiting for what he had to say.

“I’ve said it a hundred times, and i’ll say it again. This is for life baby, I already know it yeah? Doesn’t matter that I graduate this year, because you know damn well i’ll still be up your fine ass every second I get-“

“Chriss stop ittt” She whined embarrassed, his arms caging around her waist so her head laid on his chest, his lips peppering kisses onto the top of her head,

“Come on, we’re missin the pool party and I still wanna see you all wet and-“

“I swear Chris say another word and you’ll be sleeping on my doormat instead of my bed, that you love oh so much” Y/n said playfully turning around as they walked back out the room, Chris' lips forming into a big pout, “You’d really do your future husband like that huh?”

Now when I say they stuck together, they meant it. Whether it be them clinging onto each other in the pool, or her making sure he had enough sunscreen on him and food in him. The campus couple everyone strived to be like, but no one could; no one could love like they do.

“You comin back to mine tonight baby?” Y/n asked rubbing her hand softly over Chris’ stomach, looking up at him from her place on his chest, the sun-bed somehow fitting them both. The alcohol slowly taking its effect in Y/n as she felt more drowsy, although Chris made it a rule for himself not to drink when at parties with his girl, he had to make sure she was safe. Her safety always comes first.

Chris knew that once they got back to her place there’d be an array of activities going on, from cuddles all the way to full on make-outs, whatever it takes to get his precious princess to sleep. Heck sometimes he’d even have to scratch her back to sleep, or she’d request for him to be inside her as she slept (Chris' favourite method)

“Of course I am, is that even a question? I can’t skip out on my newfound skincare routine, and I still need to feed your fish because I swear you don’t feed the little guy enough”

Y/n smiled up as the man beneath her babbled on and on, Chris had ultimately become a major part of her life, hell her parents loved him more than they loved her at this point. Sure at first she was wary with his social position in the frat, but on the inside he’s a big cuddly bear that needs a lot of lovin. Lovin that she’s extremely willing to give.

Chris fell first, and he fell even damn harder.

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @patzammit @pandaxnienke @stormcloudss @stuckysgirl27 @bval-1 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @emvebee @chrisevansdaughter @cevansgurl @marvelgurl @evanstanwhore @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @mischiefsemimanaged @thereisa8ella @uwiuwi @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @lastwandastan @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @fdl305 @bluebellsn @mdpplgtz03 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @roofwitty779 @aerangi @s-void @oliviah-25 @nikkitc0703 @meetmeatyourworst @imboredat2am @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @adoreyouusugar @annajustwrites @caps-shield1918 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @xoxokiaraaxoxo @royalwriteroftheuniverse @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chrisevansangel @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @bxdbxtxh15 @tojisbabymomma @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @mrspeacem1nusone @ninasw0rld

#romance #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans one shot #frat!chris

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hunny-beann · 6 months

Note

Hi! I love love love your first fic and your portrayal of dream!

Could I request two prompts from your hurt/comfort prompts? Specifically number 11 and number 52?

No Greater Patience

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi anon! tysm for the request, I hope you enjoy the fic!

synopsis:

Prior to his century long captivity, Morpheus and his wife have an argument so disastrous that even after regaining his freedom over one hundred years later, he still questions whether or not he has the right to seek her out.

And yet, the yearning of an Endless is not so easily ignored by the mind, and he soon finds that regardless of his conscious thoughts, all roads lead back to her.

To you.

Prompts:

(hurt/comfort list here)

#11: Please don’t go. #52: I kept this for you while you were away // It’s been two years // I know

Warnings: A once unhappy marriage(?), is Dream himself a warning? Because he still should be.

Word Count: 4,014

Having the opportunity to visit with Death again had been nice.

Far nicer in fact, than the Lord of Dreams would ever willingly admit aloud.

She had always understood him in a way that none of his other siblings ever seemed to manage, and she was far too aware of his flaws and his past to allow him to continue his typical path of avoidance without a bit of a challenge.

Of course, there had been many a time where that had been less than ideal, particularly when Dream had little interest in dealing with those things, big and large, that always seemed to haunt him so.

Still, it was nice to be reminded of the topics and people that he had neglected to consider throughout his time held captive, like Hob Gadling for example, who Dream was now almost eagerly planning to visit at his earliest convenience.

And perhaps he would have headed off sooner, had it not been for Death's one lingering question regarding her brother's personal relationships...

"Dream?"

She had asked just after he had stepped away upon making his intentions of setting off to visit Hob clear.

Slowly, hesitantly, the individual in question turned to face his sister in response, one brow cocked in question to make up for his persistent silence.

Death sighed a bit, almost looking a little unsure before she finally continued upon realizing how little time she truly had for this particular conversation.

She had a rather important deadline to make, after all.

"Have you seen her?"

She asked gently, a sort of pity in her gaze that immediately made the being standing in front of her bristle in response, forcing down the slowly increasing feeling of anger within him as he closed his eyes and took a single deep breath before opening them once more to find her still standing there, waiting.

He shook his head.

"No. Our last conversation was... less than amicable, and was several weeks prior to my disappearance."

Death took a few steps closer, and placed a hand upon Dream's shoulder, watching him fight off the urge to step away, clearly trying his best not to end their interaction on a negative note.

"Then maybe you should consider seeing her as well. Last we spoke she wanted to ask about you, I could feel it, I just didn't want to push-"

"Sister."

Dream interrupted her, his voice not unkind, but still rather stern, at least as much so as politeness would allow.

"She made it quite clear during our last conversation how little interest she had in seeing me again. I would not think it appropriate for me to seek her out in spite of that."

Death sighed, but removed her hand from her brother's shoulder, watching as he nodded toward her in farewell before beginning to move away once more.

Still, no matter how gently she had attempted to address the tense topic, Death was still an older sister, and how could she possibly call herself by such a title if she didn't do some teasing from time to time?

"You cannot avoid the wife forever, dear brother! Do not forget, you are bound to her until I come to collect!"

Dream rolled his eyes, and though Death could not see that particular movement, she could see the way that his shoulders shifted slightly as he chuckled to himself, his head shaking from side to side as he walked off to attend to his own personal duties.

Except several hours and a visit with Hob later, he found that he could do no such thing, as his mind was far too wrapped up with thoughts of his wife.

Thoughts of you.

He had always loved you after all, hadn't he?

You, a deity worshiped into existence by humans, meant to embody nourishment and nurturing, as that found in the relationship between a mother and child, or an owner and their pet.

You were unending and fierce loyalty, the fire in the pit of the stomach, and the gentle hand clutching that of a child during an afternoon walk in the woods, setting them on the right path while never disallowing an opportunity for adventure.

You were beautiful.

And so very deserving of a type of love that Dream had simply been unable to give you.

Sure, he had always been polite, and at times even kind, but considerate was not an adjective that any would have used to describe him, nor his relationship that he shared with you.

Still, you had found it within yourself to love him anyway.

He was cold, calculating, blunt, quiet, and scrutinizing. Dream saw all, every flaw and every weakness, and though it was a rarity that he would point them out aloud without prompting, it was difficult to know just how much he truly saw whenever he looked at you.

That said, none of that had ever seemed to bother you beyond what you could manage.

You enjoyed his company, particularly back when the Dreaming had been slightly less complex, and he had been able to provide you with conversations and time, both things that he would eventually cease to have very much of as the waking world began to shift and change, thus requiring the evolution of the Dreaming as well.

More people meant more dreaming, and more dreaming meant more of the Dream Lord's attention.

And what he had neglected to realize at the time, was that you were the very first thing to lose his affections, his thoughts, and his actions.

It was as if you had always been expendable without ever truly knowing it until he was long gone, a slight indent in the bed that was only ever filled after you went to sleep and before you woke up, leaving you the possessor of both of your rings as day after day he forgot his on the bedside table until it was nothing more than a habit long forgotten.

Where you had once been the love of The Dream Lord, it now appeared that you were his wife in name and nothing more, and though it stung, you had stuck to your duties for far longer than Dream ever would have allowed you to now.

You had always deserved better, even before the being had shifted his attention's elsewhere, and even if he had not known that then, he could so clearly understand it now.

You had never given up on him, not even when nearly all of your interactions seemed to end in dismissals on his part, or arguments due to his seemingly constant exasperation in general. You wanted your husband back, but he wanted to be the Dream Lord far more than he ever wanted to be a husband at that time.

And maybe he had felt that way, sure, but he never should have said it, at least not in the way that he did.

Because he had seen the way that your face fell and your eyes grew teary. Of course he had, he saw all.

But in spite of that fact, he did not go after you when you rushed off to be alone for the one thousandth time.

And the next time that he saw you, you had approached him at his throne in the evening, and quietly, meekly, in a voice he had never heard you use before, asked for a divorce.

You had looked defeated in a way that Dream had found himself surprised by, eyes shadowed, gaze cast downward, and skin slightly paler than usual in spite of how impossible it would be for you to have taken ill due to your godly status.

And any husband, or at least any good one, would have asked you what was wrong, or what had driven you to wanting to leave so suddenly.

But Dream had not been a good husband, so he had simply grown frustrated with you.

He had accused you of being attention seeking for your "childish behaviors", called your attempts at appealing to his emotions laughable, and had all but sneered in the face of your desires.

You were, after all, the Lady of Dreams, everyone knew you as such, and the idea that you could abandon such a title? It was nearly as unthinkable as him leaving his.

His creations, nightmares and dreams alike, adored you, his siblings, (or rather those of whom that cared), seemed to enjoy or at least tolerate your presence when necessary, and most importantly of all, the Dream Lord could not imagine a world within which you were no longer his wife.

It had been centuries since your marriage, and over a thousand years of knowing you prior to that, after all.

It was almost as if he thought of you as his after all of the time of you living within his shadow as nothing more than a figurehead, the wife of a powerful being who was seldom paid any attention to by the very "man" that she had married.

But to Dream's surprise, if your actions had been for attention, you were all too keen on taking things even further, because when he made these accusations in his usual uncaring and borderline insulting tone, you had shouted at him for the very first time that he could recollect.

"It hurts!"

You had cried, eyes brimming with unexpected tears of both anger and sadness,

"It hurts to know that you see me each day without ever truly seeing me, that you call me your wife while scarcely knowing who I am anymore. If me donning the title of Lady of Dreams is so important to you Lord Morpheus, then fine, call me what you will, but know that I do not consider myself your spouse anymore, and have no intentions of staying here in this suffocating realm with you any longer."

And with that, you had gone, and The Lord of Dreams had not seen you since.

Though he had thought about you plenty, as unwilling as he was to admit it.

Your words had gotten to him, though most primarily when he had been trapped for so very long, forced to consider his past actions and mull over all that he had endured throughout the passage of time in spite of how little it was meant to impact him.

You were his wife still, sure, but now only in name, and over a century had passed since he had last heard your voice or seen your face.

Were you still worshiped as you had once been? Did his nightmares and his dreams know where you were? Had you thought of him or thought to visit the Dreaming in his absence? Had you even known that he had vanished in the manner that he did?

All of these questions coursed through his mind, and thoughtlessly, without even realizing it, he brought himself back to where he subconsciously knew that you would be.

Your home.

Nestled deep within the woods of the waking world, in a rural town within a country rather sparsely inhabited, you still resided, unsurprisingly, to this day, and as Dream approached your door for the first time in centuries, he stopped himself before he could raise a fist to knock on the sturdy old wood.

What was he doing here, bothering you after so very long of giving you the space that you so desired?

Had he not made a promise to himself that he would leave you be now that he understood all that he had done to you? All that he had deprived you of by trapping a being such as yourself in a marriage as loveless as yours had been?

At that line of internal questioning, Dream sighed, and turned to leave, only to hear the door swing open behind him just as he did so, a gasp filling the air behind his back before he quickly spun to face the source of the sound.

There you were, a giggling and bouncing baby at your hip, with a bottle in your hand, staring at the personification of dreams with eyes that were beginning to brim ever so slightly with tears.

"Please, don't go."

You whispered, causing the Dream Lord's eyes to widen ever so slightly,

"I need to talk to you."

And much to his surprise, Dream was quick to oblige, stepping into your abode in only a few simple strides, taking in the familiar yet so very changed space and atmosphere found within the walls of your home.

This was where he had met you well over a thousand years ago by happenstance, though he knew all too well deep down that all things happened for a reason, and that his meeting with you had been preordained by his eldest sibling and the stars long before the humans that had created you had even existed.

It was peaceful here, in the deeper woods with you, in your fire-heated home so hidden from view.

Or maybe, it was you who brought on that familiar peace, you who made his physical form relax in spite of how tireless it was meant to be.

He did not linger on such a thought for very long, for fear of what he might come to realize.

"You look well."

He said almost timidly, eyes cast downward and body language tense as he tried not to consider how similarly you looked even still to the last time that he'd seen you.

Beautiful, as always.

You sighed in response, wrestling a lightly chiming metal pendant out of the hand of the child in your grasp before tucking it into your shirt and away from view.

"With all due respect, my lord, I have absolutely no interest in small talk."

You said quietly, watching as Dream raised his gaze to look at you once more, eyes following intently as you shifted the child at your hip slightly, eyes still not entirely rid of the tears that had so clearly threatened to fall upon the sight of him.

"You disappeared."

You stated in a whisper, sounding almost defeated even as Dream nodded in reply,

"I did."

He said.

You sighed again, and looked down at the child, gaze softening slightly as you raised the prepared bottle to it's lips, watching as it started to suckle with delight, chubby limbs wiggling within your grasp, though you notably did not falter.

You never did, you were far too good with children, a fact that Dream had always felt unsettled by.

He was discernibly not a family man, particularly back when he had married you, and the idea that you were meant for something outside of what he could comfortably provide you with...

"And now you're back."

You said matter of factly, using that same tone as before as the being in front of you was snapped out of his reverie at the familiar sound of your voice, his reaction instantaneous.

"I am."

He said simply, watching as you looked up at him once more, tears spilling slightly in a way that for a moment, caused him to freeze up entirely.

You had never been one for crying, not even throughout the many years where he had harmed you through his lack of attention and desire. What could it have been, here and now that would bring you to such tears upon his simple words?

He moved after a moment, almost instinctively, to stand before you, some longing once believed to be long lost within him bubbling to the surface as he raised both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks in order to wipe your tears away with almost trembling thumbs that had nearly forgotten the once worshiped feeling of your skin beneath their pads.

You sighed shakily, looking him in the eyes for one of the very first times that day as you shook your head slightly,

"How could you do such a thing to me, Dream? How could you vanish so entirely without a word to me or anyone that you knew would be worried for you? How could you turn up here so casually and think to turn away and leave without letting me see the realness of you for myself?"

The Lord of Dreams looked down at you with sadness in his eyes, and moved to shake his own head in response, his hands still soft and warm against your skin.

Alive.

"I did not choose to leave, my dear."

He all but murmured, the familiar nickname he had once used for you finding his lips as naturally as water did a spring,

"And I did not think you desired to see me again after our last interaction. Coming here, it was not something I thought to do. I simply did."

You gazed up at him incredulously still stuck on that first part of his statement,

"What do you mean you did not choose to leave, Morpheus?"

You whispered, horror seeping into your tone as the being in front of you faltered, before finally speaking, shame present in every word that he spoke.

"I was captured by a human, and held against my will for over a century. My freedom, as it stands currently, is new. I did not choose to leave and stay away from my duties, I assure you."

You let out a choked and humorless sounding laugh, shaking your head even further,

"And what you consider upon your exit from such a hell is not of who you want to see, but who may wish to see you? Where has my selfish King of Dream's gone?"

You asked, voice slight and smile lopsided as Morpheus sighed and thoughtlessly traced the curves of your lips with his thumb, finding much to his surprise that the shape remained familiar even to this day.

"I was not fair to you, dear wife, not for a very long time. If nothing else, I wanted to know that I had at least respected your wishes for space, though even that may have been self serving."

You adjusted the child on your hip, before you raised your hand up to your husband's, ignoring the slight way that he shivered beneath your touch.

"Whatever do you mean, King of Dreams?"

You whispered, watching as Morpheus gave a humorless sounding chuckle of his own.

"I mean that even today, I could not bear to call you anything besides my wife. I mean that by avoiding you entirely, and calling that your wish, I am able to ignore the fact that I am still not strong enough to give you the end to our union that you so justly requested. I do not wish to lose you in that way, even if I have lost you in all others."

You hummed softly in response, smile growing gently as you removed his hand from your face, giving him a glance that had him dropping the other to his side before you guided him to your sofa, where you sat the two of you down, you with a child upon your lap, and him with nothing but his most bare self, vulnerable in a way he had not felt since he had been so plainly naked behind glass for what had felt like all of man to see.

Seeking out a distraction, Dream looked down toward the child sitting upon your lap, before moving his gaze back up to yours again.

"The child..."

He began, and immediately, you shook your head,

"He is not mine. I found him roaming the woods a few days back, and have yet to find his mother, even after stopping by the nearest town. I'm hoping to hear word of someone searching for him soon."

You said casually, watching with gleaming eyes as the child took your finger and clasped it within his chubby little fist, his grin revealing his few teeth, just barely poking out from beneath his gums.

Dream could not help but smile softly along with him, though his was merely a shadow compared to that of the child sitting atop your legs.

"I see..."

He replied, and you gazed toward him with noted amusement,

"Were you worried that I had stepped outside of our marriage, Lord Morpheus?"

You teased, watching as the man in front of you rolled his eyes before responding.

"No, I was more hoping than anything else. If you had moved on, then I might find it easier now to do the same."

You looked up at him upon hearing those words, before reaching down to place the small child on the floor in front of you with a sigh, thus allowing you to better face the being sitting at your side.

"And why is it that you are so eager to move past me, dear husband?"

You watched as Dream cast his gaze downward, eyes trained on the child playing nearby in spite of the fact that you could tell his mind was far away indeed, off somewhere that you could not follow, deeply considering every event he'd ever endured in search of an answer to your question.

How nice it must have been, to be so knowledgeable.

"If I were to move past you, wife, then I might finally be able to let you go, and if I managed to do such a thing, it would be far more feasible that you could truly hope to be rid of me someday."

You sighed, and reached for the hands of the individual that you had once known so well, and perhaps even did still, causing him to look up at you in surprise at the sudden contact.

"And if I do not want to be rid of you, dear Morpheus? If I said that after a century I have found it within myself to forgive you for the husband you once were in favor of learning what husband you could be now?"

You watched as the being sitting in front of you stared for a moment, as if in complete and utter disbelief, before he slowly began shaking his head, the corner of his lips raising ever so slightly as he leaned in to press his forehead against your own,

"Then I would say that I have known no greater patience than that of my dear wife."

He murmured, causing you to laugh quietly with a subtle roll of your eyes before you reached upward, pulling a pendant on a chain out from where it had been hidden beneath the collar of your shirt.

Dream watched curiously, not entirely sure of what you were doing, until suddenly you yanked at the chain with such force that it snapped in the back, causing either end of it to come tumbling forward into your palm.

Dream raised a brow in response to your actions, but remained silent, seeing in your eyes that you were all too eager to explain, the glint there unsubtle in a way that he was immensely familiar with.

"I kept this for you while you were away"

You stated casually as you pulled one of two clinking pieces of metal off of the chain, revealing to Dream a sight he had never anticipated having the privilege of viewing again.

There, between two of your fingertips and presented to him with such normalcy, was his wedding ring, and he could see from the subtle glint still remaining in your palm that the other metal piece on the chain had been yours.

He stared in shock, reaching for the familiar symbol of his union to you in utter disbelief, even as the coolness of it's structure wrapped itself around his ring finger as he took it and slid it on to its rightful place upon his hand.

"It’s been more than a century..."

He murmured, his tone betraying his surprise in spite of how little emotion he typically showed, even in vulnerable moments like this one.

You smiled at him, shrugging slightly as you slid your own ring onto your finger again, sighing as if having arrived home after a long day of work,

"I know."

#morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream the endless x reader #morpheus x y/n #sandman x reader #the sandman x you #dream x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fic #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x you #morpheus x f!reader #sandman x female reader #dream x fem!reader #the sandman fic #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus fic #morpheus x wife

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thebrightestwitchofherage · 4 months

Text

Dear anti Zionists

I will try and make this brief and to the point since you often attack me without reading the entirety of my posts :

I’ve seen your recent posts about the trials in Haag, and the mockery you’ve made of the events of October 7th. That’s just disgusting. Freeing Palestine has nothing to do murdering Israeli civilians.

- This war was initiated by Hamas , a terrorist organisation on October 7th.

- You cannot deny that they invaded Israel and then massacred thousands of civilans , raped and mutilated women and children, kidnapped civilians , shot thousands of rockets, destroyed homes ….

There are currently 136 Israeli hostages still held in captivity, for almost 100 days. They’re held in underground tunnels and being withheld medical care and medications. The women are raped and the man tortured.

There are currently also hundreds of thousands of Israelis displaced from their homes due to the war.

-I will say it again: Literally every war or operation in Israel’s history was not initiated by Israel. It is always a matter of retaliation to foreign military invasion or terror attacks .

I’m only 22 and I have personally lived through one intifada, 4 wars and countless military operations.

We are all suffering because of Hamas. Once again- my city is often under attack and people I know are dead. And some of you here have absolute nerve to say that I’m privileged????

-Intifadas aren’t cute civilian uprisings. They’re violent terror attacks against civilians. Children’s Buses blowing up, restaurants blown up, shootings, stabbings, running over people…

read a damn book or something before you chant “Globalise the Intifadas🥹”.

-Have any of you here ever spoken to a Palestinian or an Israeli in your life? Do you even know anyone Jewish?

- Please give me actual example of the apartheid in Israel, I’m waiting. My Druze / Arabic colleagues , friends and I literally frequently joke about this claim.

-No, blockades between the West Bank/Gaza and Israel do not count.

There are ISIS affiliated/ Hamas terrorists in the West Bank and Gaza, territories that are not governed by Israel > there are borders check point. Israel has the right to defend itself against terror.

-by the way, Jordan and Egypt both have those blockades btw- I don’t see any of you attacking them? The hypocrisy…

- While I am not questioning the death and suffering of Palestinians , this has to be said:

The amount of Palestinian casualties during the Hamas-Israel war is estimated by unconfirmed sources , and isn’t corroborated by any neutral official organisation.

It was also proven that most of the casualties are terrorists.

The Gaza ministry of health= Hamas .

Al Jazeera= not credible &has been time and time again proved to be biased and anti-Semitic.

Furthermore, It’s been proven time and time again that Hamas terrorists work at UWNRA, and that Palestinian reporters in both Al Jazeera and western media outlets are in fact Hamas members/ supporters.

One of them literally joined the Al Qasam forces in their attack on October 7th, and was reporting rather enthusiastically on the murder of Israeli civilians. As the massacre continued around them.

You would rather believe terrorists & terrorists sympathisers than Jewish/ Israeli victims’ testimonies and the concrete evidence they provide.

-It seems like you’re ignoring what Gazans are saying in your attempts to “free Palestine”.

If Gazans themselves are saying Hamas are to blame for their terrible living conditions and war , why are you defending Hamas?

Why are you assuming that you know better than the people who are actually living this conflict?

-The IDF has been trying every tactic under the sun to alert civilians from incoming strikes. There are whole unites devoted to texting calling Gazan civilians. They have made millions of calls this war alone.

And yes, even the infamous flyers you joke about are used.

Do you know any other army that does that?

God I am so tired of the misinformation, lies and hatred here. So many of you are showing your true colours- ignorance and antisemitism.

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five-rivers · 1 year

Text

Turpentine

An AU following the same 'ages' concept as Baroque. You do not have to read Baroque to understand this.

As a superhero, ghost-based or otherwise, Danny tended to be hyper-aware of changes in his environment. So long as he wasn't sleep-deprived, anyway. Which he was. Frequently. But Frostbite didn't spar with him when he was sleep deprived, so, when he called a time out to their bout, he wasn't.

"Is everything alright, Great One?" asked Frostbite.

Danny, a little out of breath despite not needing to breathe - it was a psychological thing, okay? - shrugged and pointed. "What's that?"

Frostbite turned to look and stiffened. Danny didn't blame him. The sight had surprised him, too. A flat, black disk, about the size of his pinky fingernail held at arm's length, hung in the Ghost Zone sky, over what had formerly been its brightest part. It looked like an eclipse, only with a lot less light escaping from around the edges.

"Oh, dear," said Frostbite.

"What is it?"

Frostbite turned and flew quickly out of the training stadium.

"Driftice!" he called. "The age is turning! We need the telescope!"

"The telescope?" asked Danny, matching his pace with Frostbite's.

Frostbite spared a moment to smile down at Danny. "It's very impressive, I think you'll like it."

Danny nodded. He’d never met a telescope he didn’t like.

By the time they reached the buildings proper, yetis were starting to stop and stare at the black spot. A few of them would then start running, doing something, but others just… kept staring.

“The telescope!” Frostbite called again. That spurred a few more yetis into action. He started giving people directions.

Soon, they were dragging a long, ridged tube from within one of the larger caves and hooking it up to all sorts of equipment. The lens inside winked at Danny, its curve seeming highly exaggerated for the length of the telescope, until Danny realized it must be made out of ice, which didn’t bend light as much as glass.

… He may have looked into making a few ice telescopes of his own. Hey, having a hobby under his circumstances was hard!

“What’s going on?” asked Danny, after Frostbite paused in his orders. “Are we being attacked or something?”

“Not… as such, no.” Frostbite looked back up at the black spot, clearly worried. “Every so often, the Realms… change. We call it the turning of the age. It begins with the color of the ambient ectoplasm, and the color tends to indicate the character of the age. So far, we have been experiencing a green age, which tends towards the more natural or chaotic, with differences between ghosts exaggerated. With ghosts themselves exaggerated to a degree.”

“Okay,” said Danny, “so… it’s not normally like this?”

“Normal is relative.” Frostbite waved his hand as if dismissing the entire concept. “Ages can last from anywhere from one year to thousands. This one has lasted only a few hundred.”

“And I’m guessing black isn’t a good color?”

“It is somewhat more complicated than that. It is possible that it isn’t true black, which is why we’re looking. To make sure. It could be a very deep blue, or green, or red, which tends not to be terribly comfortable, but is still bearable. It could be the color of a starry night, which is a good deal better. It could be a color we do not have the senses to see directly, such as ultraviolet or infrared, both of which give rise to rather alien ages, but…”

“But black?” prompted Danny.

“I do hope it is not truly black,” said Frostbite. “How to put this… There are certain popular conceptions of afterlives, and other… let us call them worlds beyond worlds, yes?”

Danny nodded, not sure where this was going. “Like heaven and hell, or the Greek underworld?” he asked, to clarify.

“Indeed,” said Frostbite. “The Realms reflect those. Or, perhaps, they reflect the Realms. Again, the color is the indicator.”

“So, what does black mean? Hell?”

Frostbite shook his head. “No. Hell is red, and… to be truthful, Great One, despite all the woes that come to the fore when we become demons, red ages have positives as well. Black, true black, is… nothing.”

“Nothing?” repeated Danny. He was hoping he was misunderstanding.

“Nothing,” confirmed Frostbite. “Cessation. Nonexistence. Not Ending, but stopping. It is–”

“You’re going to die?”

“No,” said Frostbite. “As I said, no Ending. Typically. But… if the age is truly black, then we will cease to exist until the next age, only returning when it turns again. It is not sleep. It is not death. We simply will not be.”

Danny wasn’t sure if that was better, and he was sure that showed on his face, but Frostbite didn’t look all that enthused, either.

“The black ectoplasm will spread from where it began, affecting other ectoplasm constructs, including ghosts, on contact.”

“So, if it touches you, you just… stop existing?”

“There is generally a small amount of time between contact and cessation, but… yes.” Frostbite turned more fully to Danny. “That is why, if the age is true black, you must leave and not return until the age changes again.”

“What? Why just me?”

“Think, Great One. We are fully ghosts. We cannot survive without ectoplasm. Yes, some might try to hide in the human world, and avoid the touch of the black. Some might even succeed. But they will be much weakened, perhaps even to Fading, should the age last long at all. But here, we will return, even if much time has passed. But for you… You are different.”

“Because I’m a half ghost.”

“Yes,” said Frostbite. “You may be affected just as we are, but imagine, what might happen to you if you suddenly lost your ghost half?”

“I’d… lose my powers, at least,” said Danny, swallowing against sudden nausea. That was a little too close to what had happened in the bad future, even if it was in the opposite direction.

“Yes, and if that happened here, while the black was coming, you would not be able to escape. You would simply fall, unless you managed to hit something. What is the other option?”

Not one Danny wanted to consider. “I might… die.”

“And your ghost might come back at the end of the age, or… it might not. I do not mean to frighten you unduly, Great One, but let me say it again: if the age is black, leave, and do not come back. Close your portal, leave town, go where you will not be found.”

“Because other ghosts might be affected and bring it through the portal?”

“Because the portal itself would go black, and radiate throughout your town before collapsing.”

“Oh,” said Danny, softly. “Okay.”

“I would not wish to come back to this world, only to find that you were unmade by black ectoplasm. I would far prefer to learn that you had died after a long and happy life.” He smiled. “But the age might not even be black! There could be stars, or–”

“Chief Frostbite,” said one of the technicians, nervously lacing and unlacing his fingers.

“Yes, Flashfreeze?”

“It’s black.”

“I’m so sorry, Danny,” said Jazz.

“It’s not like anyone is dying,” said Danny, mouth dry. No one but him, if he screwed up.

No one but him, Vlad, and Dani.

“It’s still a loss,” said Jazz, who looked like she wanted to cry herself. “How are we going to tell Mom and Dad?”

“I–” He hadn’t made a decision to tell them anything. “I don’t know.”

“They won’t close the portal unless one of us says something,” said Jazz, which was very true. “We’re going to have to tell them, especially if we have to move away to get away from the natural portals.”

“I know,” said Danny, hunching his shoulders.

“I know,” said Jazz. “This is awful, but… I don’t want you to die, Danny. I don’t even want you to have to lose your powers.”

“I know,” said Danny. “I know. I’m just… I think I need to talk to Vlad first.” Vlad was out of town for the rest of the weekend for some business thing, but he’d be back on Monday.

“What?” asked Jazz, making a face that was a very appropriate reaction to Danny suggesting they talk to Vlad.

“He studied the same stuff they did. He’ll know how to explain it to them. And he might know how to find Dani.”

Jazz cursed softly under her breath. “I didn’t even think– You haven’t heard from her lately?”

Danny shook his head. “Last time, she was in Eastern Europe and it was a payphone. She’d broken the burner Sam got for her and couldn’t get a new one.”

“Crap,” she said. “Wait, what about Valerie? Isn’t her board powered by ectoplasm?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny, chewing his lip. “Maybe. Oh, gosh, what if she falls out of the sky or something?” He rubbed his face. “Do I have to tell her, too?”

“Maybe we can get Mom and Dad to warn her,” said Jazz, in a blinding display of optimism. “Maybe after we tell them, they can make a public service announcement or something.”

“Maybe,” said Danny, significantly more dubious. “I just– I think I need to tell Vlad first, that’s all.”

Jazz nodded, then paused. “We have time?”

“Yeah, it didn’t look like it was getting any bigger from where I was,” said Danny. “Frostbite said it could take months for the age to completely flip over, depending on stuff like where it started.”

“Okay,” said Jazz. “Then we can wait until you tell him.”

“Okay,” said Danny. “Great.” He rubbed his arms. He itched to leave, to run, to fly and put this behind him, but… The idea of a touch of black, then falling–

Jazz hugged him. “It’s going to be alright,” she said.

Danny hugged her back. “I hope so.”

“Anyway,” said Danny, picking at a sliver of veneer that had come off Tucker’s desk. It was only attached by one end. “That’s it, I suppose. The end.”

“That’s… a lot,” said Tucker. “Are you… okay?”

“Not really,” said Danny. “It’s– Maybe it’s a good thing? I won’t have to fight ghosts anymore and all that, right?” He rubbed his eyes.

“I mean, maybe? I’m a little… stunned about it, too.”

“So am I,” said Sam. “It’s just going to disappear? All of it?”

“Yeah, apparently.”

“How long?”

Danny shook his head.

“Oh my gosh.” Sam got up from the beanbag chair and started to pace. “It’s just, we have friends there. And they’re just going to–? Are you sure we can’t do anything?”

“Frostbite was pretty sure,” said Danny, curling up.

“But–”

“I don’t want to die again, Sam.” That brought Sam’s pacing to a stop. “I’ll always fight if it seems like there’s a chance, but. I really don’t want to die.”

Sam sat back down.

“Frostbite really made it sound like there was nothing we could do,” continued Danny. “He’s been around for a while, you know? It sounded… It sounded like he’s done this before.”

“Okay,” whispered Sam. “What do you want us to do?”

Danny shrugged, then made himself laugh. “Get into whatever college I do? That’s a joke.”

“Hey, you tell us where you’re going, and we will,” said Tucker. “Fast as anything.”

“At least the same city,” said Sam.

Danny had to ring the doorbell three times before Vlad opened up. Jerk.

“Why, Daniel,” purred Vlad, who had clearly just been taking his time, “are you skipping school for this?”

“Shut up,” said Danny, already annoyed by Vlad’s whole… everything. “We need to talk.”

“By all means, come inside.”

Vlad’s mansion was as opulent as ever.

“Can I offer you some breakfast? Guaranteed not to come alive.”

Danny forced down the thought that soon his home wouldn’t be at risk for that, either, and shut the door behind him. “No thanks,” he said, and began to share what Frostbite had told him.

As he did, the smug look slipped off Vlad’s face, replaced with something stonier.

“I’ll have to confirm independently, you understand,” he said. It didn’t sound like a taunt or a joke, just a fact.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I have to go to school, so don’t get yourself killed.”

“I’m touched by your concern, Daniel, but unlike your father, I do understand basic lab safety.”

That had to be a new addition since college, but Danny kept the snark behind his teeth and just let the door bang behind him on his way out.

Vlad was waiting in the parking lot for him when school got out.

“Why’s he here?” asked Sam.

“Probably because he’s just as freaked out as I am,” said Danny. He sat down on the steps. “I’m going to wait for Jazz.”

“You sure, dude?” asked Tucker.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” said Tucker, dubiously.

“Call us if you need us to kick some vampire butt.”

“Got it.”

Danny only had to wait a few more minutes before Jazz came out. “Why’s he here?”

“Dunno,” said Danny, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Want to find out?”

They walked over to the running car. It wasn’t quite a limo, but it was long, and the back seats faced each other.

“So?” asked Danny, climbing in.

Vlad looked wrecked. “You were right,” he said.

“Wow, no kidding.”

Vlad waved off his sarcasm. “This is not time for jokes, Daniel, I– Jasmine.”

“Vlad.”

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Well, you get both of us or none of us,” said Danny. “You can drop Jazz off at home just as easily as you can drop me off.”

“And Jasmine’s car?”

“Aren’t you rich or something?” asked Jazz. “Just drive me back.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “I can send someone to come pick it up.” He leaned over to close the door after Jazz, then tapped on the closed divider between them and their driver. The car started forward.

“So, you’ll tell them? Our parents?” asked Danny.

“I’ll try. But do you really think that will stop them?”

“Yes,” said Danny, forcefully.

“If they know it’s something that could hurt Danny, they’ll stop.”

“I certainly hope you’re right,” said Vlad.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Vlad’s sneer was a shadow of its former self. He looked genuinely ill. “Daniel, they already know their research has hurt you. Or do you think they forgot about bringing you to the hospital after your accident with the portal?”

“That’s different.” That was an equipment problem, not an issue with the content of their research itself.

“Is it? They are very aware that the same research landed me in the hospital for years, no matter how much they like to ignore that little fact.”

Normally, Danny would dismiss this as just another ploy of Vlad’s, an attempt to turn him against Jack and become Vlad’s evil apprentice, but… Not today. There was a little too much truth to his words.

“Did they even put up any safety measures after that? How about when they learned their portal was spewing dangerous ghosts into town at all the hours of the day and night?”

“They did,” said Jazz, although her tone rang false to Danny. It was true that they’d installed the doors on the portal, and the ecto-exodus alarm, but… for all they claimed to be dedicated to protecting people from ghosts, they hadn’t done much else.

Vlad leaned back. “As I said, I hope you’re right, for both our sakes. Based on my calculations, we should leave town before the month is over, to be safe. If they haven’t left by the thirtieth, I advise you to come with me. My lawyers can sort everything out after the fact, and if not, I have enough contacts to be able to create entirely new identities for both of us.”

“Do you have any idea how threatening that sounds?” asked Jazz, peeved.

“It’s a service Daniel might find himself in need of, if Jack and Maddie are unreasonable. I have no intention of dying or letting Daniel die because of this.”

The declaration made Danny feel better. Not much better, but better.

The car rolled to a stop. “In the meantime, I will try to use less drastic measures.” Vlad raised an eyebrow. “The question now, I think, is whether or not you will tell them.”

Danny hunched his shoulders and fiddled with the door handle. “Yeah,” he said.

“Excellent. Then we can begin.”

“Wait,” said Danny.

“What?” asked Vlad, flatly, clearly annoyed.

“Do you know where Dani is?” asked Danny, reluctant to bring Vlad into this particular problem, but unwilling to give up even the thinnest lead.

Vlad gave him a baffled look.

“Danielle,” clarified Danny, annoyed.

“Yes,” said Vlad. “Don’t look so surprised, Daniel. We may have parted on less than amicable terms, but she’s still my daughter.”

“You tried to melt her.”

“A misunderstanding.”

Danny wasn’t sure how that could be a misunderstanding.

“We all do unwise things under the influence of our passions, Daniel. The important thing is that we rise above them. You’ll understand someday.” He climbed out of the car.

“I hope not,” muttered Jazz.

Then, some of the conversation’s implications caught up with Danny.

“Wait,” he said, phasing through Jazz to get out fast and jogging after Vlad. “Wait. You don’t expect me to tell them now, do you?”

“Daniel, there is no time. Tell them now, or tell them never.” Vlad opened the door and walked in like he owned the place.

“Vladdie!” exclaimed Jack, who had been tinkering at the kitchen table. He leapt up and embraced Vlad, swirling him around. Vlad looked like he wanted to die again right then and there.

“Hello, Jack, is Maddie home?”

“Yes,” said Maddie, coming up the stairs from the lab. Her voice was about as warm and cuddly as sandpaper left in Antarctica for three months. “What do you want, Vlad?”

“I have discovered some disturbing news,” he said, “but I’m afraid that much of it will only make sense in the context of what Daniel is about to tell you.”

Everyone looked at him expectantly. Jazz gave him a small thumbs up.

Danny very much would have liked to strangle Vlad. If someone had to out themselves, why couldn’t it be him?

“What is it, Danno?” asked Jack.

Danny swallowed. “Do you remember that time I got shocked by the portal?”

As far as reveals went… it was neither everything he’d feared nor everything he’d hoped for. There had been a lot of shouting. No one thought he was dead or possessing his own corpse. Jazz had accidentally outed Vlad somewhere in the middle of an argument. He was able to go to sleep in his own house without being afraid he was going to be dissected. His parents had agreed to start the process of shutting down the portal. The only reason he wasn’t super ultra forever grounded for the rest of his life was because of the whole ‘might die soon’ thing.

It was exhausting. Danny didn’t know if he was glad it was over or not.

This whole week was exhausting.

He pressed his face into his pillow and swallowed back tears. He was going to miss his friends. Heck, he was going to miss his enemies.

He didn’t want to die.

Every time he went to school that week, every time he went to Sam’s, or Tucker’s, or the Nasty Burger, or anywhere in town, he was acutely aware that it might be the last time he was in any of those places. Every time he went ghost, he understood that this time might be it. Every time he shooed off an animal ghost or spotted Valerie in the hall, or saw the green glow of ectotechnology–

It was ending. It was all ending. At least for Danny.

He wanted to hold onto it. He wanted to stop time - and wasn’t that a temptation? To try to find Clockwork? But he’d learned his lesson about meddling with time, and there was no guarantee Clockwork was even still…

Danny settled on the word awake.

So, he did his best to savor it all, even the bad parts. It didn’t always work very well. There was too much tension, too much fear.

Tension and fear did wonders for his Doomed score, though. He was actually close to beating Sam, for once.

Except, no he wasn’t.

“No, no, no,” said Danny as Sam pulled a power move out of nowhere. “Argh!” Annoyed, he pushed his rolling chair back so he could stare more directly at Sam, where she was playing on the other side of Tucker’s attic. She wasn’t even looking at the screen, but staring over her shoulder to grin smugly at Danny. “You suck,” he said.

“No, that’d be you. You know, the one whose screen says ‘you died’ on it?”

“Ha!” exclaimed Tucker. “I’ve got the key!”

Danny turned back to the computer and started smashing the resurrect button.

Danny’s phone began to ring. He juggled it open with one hand. “Hi, sorry, Jazz, I lost track of time and–”

“Don’t come home,” said Jazz.

“What?”

“They–” Jazz inhaled sharply, angrily. “The ectoweenies are dead.”

Danny’s hand fell still. “What do you mean… dead?”

“They’re just. They’re hot dogs! Rotting hot dogs. I don’t– I think they’re experimenting with it. Mom and Dad. I overheard– I think they found some, and they’re experimenting with it, and some of them got into the fridge full of stuff we eat because neither of them ever heard about lab safety, and I don’t know if it’s safe for you to be around me, Danny.”

The death jingle played tauntingly over the speakers, three times over.

“What- Why wouldn’t it be safe for you to be around me?”

“For you to be around me. I could have black ectoplasm on me and not even know it. I don’t think it’s really detectable without an energy signature, is it?”

“Jazz,” said Danny, voice cracking. “Do you– Why?” He gasped. “Why would they–?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to know!” Danny had to know!

“They said something about fixing– I don’t know if I heard it right. I just–” Her voice crackled over the phone. “Go to Vlad’s. Forget whatever they promised. Leave now. I’ll– If they ask, I’ll say you’re in bed.”

Danny closed his eyes. His face was wet. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I– I love you, Jazz.”

“I love you, too, little brother. Stay safe.” She hung up first. She must have known he wouldn’t.

“You have to go, don’t you?” asked Sam.

“Yeah,” said Danny, hoarsely. He scrubbed at his face. “I do. But… I will see you guys again.”

Tucker nodded. “You’ve still got our numbers and our Doomed codes, right?”

Sam threw a pen at him. “Not the time?”

“Then when is the time?” demanded Tucker, rubbing the back of his head. “When is the time, huh? When he’s gone and can’t contact us because he doesn’t have our phone numbers?”

“I have them,” said Danny. “Memorized. I– I’ll call. As soon as it’s safe.”

“You’d better,” said Sam.

He hugged them.

(He hoped it wasn’t the last time.)

The sun was just beginning to set when Danny reached Vlad’s house, and the comparison between the darkening sky and the darkening Ghost Zone made him shiver. He bypassed security and knocked on Vlad’s door.

“Daniel? What are you doing here?” Vlad asked. Unlike before, he was wearing clearly casual clothes. “Did something happen?”

“You were right,” said Danny. “They didn’t stop.” Danny’s voice cracked and he swallowed. “Jazz says we need to leave, now.”

“Oh, Daniel,” said Vlad. “I’m so sorry. Genuinely, I would have preferred them to see reason, for both our sakes.’” He reached back inside and grabbed a pair of long coats. The first he threw at Danny, the second he put on around his own shoulder. “Can I assume that second bag is your ‘go-bag?’”

Danny nodded. He’d kept one at the school, and hadn’t brought it home after the reveal. He hadn’t thought to. He’d raided his locker on the way to get it, and before he’d left Tucker had shoved a lot of other stuff at him that had gotten squished either into his backpack or the go-bag.

“Good.” Vlad knelt and phased a hand through his entryway tile before pulling out a hefty duffel bag of his own. “Then we don’t need to wait. I’ve had my plane fueled and ready to go at a moments’ notice since you told me.” He took two steps back into the house. “We will transform and fly there invisibly, to avoid notice. Can you maintain that for the entire journey?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Don’t let your pride get in the way. Can you? Surely, you’ve noticed our abilities becoming more difficult to access.”

Danny had thought that was just him. Some kind of psychological thing. But if Vlad had noticed it, too… “I can do it,” he said.

“Good,” said Vlad, transforming. “Follow me.” He turned invisible and flew through the ceiling.

Danny paced him. “So, where are we going?” he asked. “On the plane,” he clarified, catching Vlad’s look.

“For now? Missouri. I have properties there that I never involved in my research and which should be safe for us. Afterwards, we will be able to assess our situation and move from there. I will have to contact my lawyers - our lawyers, now. The child endangerment and neglect case against your parents will have to be absolutely airtight, which shouldn’t be too difficult, considering the deathtrap they have downstairs and how long I’ve been collecting evidence.”

Danny wrinkled his nose. “And how long have you been collecting evidence?”

“Quite some time. Don’t forget, I’ve just been vindicated, Daniel.”

He wouldn’t. Not for a long, long time. “Is there anything else I ought to know?”

“I was able to get into contact with Danielle earlier today,” said Vlad.

“What did she say?”

“Not much to me,” said Vlad, with a hint of wryness. “She wants to hear everything from you before she believes anything I say.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

“She hung up on me. Don’t worry, she’s far away from any major supernatural hotspots. I thought I’d give her time to cool down and then contact her again while you were present.”

“Fine,” said Danny. “Where is she?”

“Poland, at the moment.”

They reached the airport and descended into the plane. Danny let go of his invisibility with a heavy sigh as Vlad went about turning on the lights.

“Our pilot will be here momentarily,” said Vlad. “Make yourself at home.”

Home. Danny put his bags on his lap and hunched around them. He’d been bracing himself for this. Really. He’d known he was going to have to leave for a whole week, now.

It still felt worse than getting thrown clear through a building.

“It’s true,” said Danny, looking out the landscape windows of Vlad’s Missouri estate. “I’m with Vlad, the Ghost Zone isn’t safe, the…” He trailed off, not wanting to recap everything. “I’m the one who told Vlad it was happening.”

“Okay,” said Dani, voice small and distant. “So… What should I do? If even your powers are getting harder to use…” She trailed off, but she didn’t have to finish the sentence. In more ways than one, Dani’s existence depended on the careful use of her powers.

“Let Vlad bring you back here. It’s– I know,” he said in response to Dani’s groan. “I know. But he doesn’t actually want either of us dead, and he’s got, you know, resources. And– And I don’t want you out on the streets in a foreign country, okay?”

“All countries are foreign to me,” grumbled Dani. “I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Please,” said Danny. “Even if it’s just long enough for him to set us up in a boarding school or give us our own apartment or something.”

“You think he’d do that?”

“I have no idea,” admitted Danny. “He’s rich enough to. Please come, Dani.” Vlad was… not being as terrible as he could be, about all this. Actually, he was being… fine.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “Alright,” she said, finally.�� “I’ll come.”

Living in Missouri… Well, living in Vlad’s version of Missouri was beautiful, lavish, luxurious. Vlad was definitely going all out. But every day Danny spent here, it felt more and more like living in a photograph. The sunlight, the grass, the leaves on the trees… it all felt flat, as if something vital had been drained from underneath the world. Even sitting in the garden, bare feet in the fountain, felt unreal.

Danny didn’t know if that was just him, or if it was another side effect of the Ghost Zone going dormant. He hoped it was just him. That would mean it might go away if he got a grip.

“Daniel,” said Vlad, shoes crunching along the gravel path. “I think you’ll be pleased to know the court case is going well, and I am attempting to develop a decontamination procedure that might allow Jasmine to visit us here someday.”

“Okay,” said Danny. He swished his feet through the water. “Do you feel like…” He sighed, not being able to find the words.

“Every day,” said Vlad, sitting down next to Danny. “We won’t be able to stay here longer than a year. Our own ectoplasm will tend to form a thin spot.”

“That’s fine,” said Danny. “Dani likes traveling.” She liked traveling, and hopefully Vlad would hurry up and get her fake passport made already.

“I hope you will come to like it, too… Although, I’m not sure we’ll need to keep up that pace for very long. Our ectosignatures are fading. I suppose we owed more of our powers to the Ghost Zone proper than I expected.” He shook his head. “In any case, we should look towards the future. Our futures. You want to be an astronaut, don’t you?”

“Does that even matter, now?”

“Daniel, you are aware of how rich I am, aren’t you? I could buy NASA.” Vlad’s dramatic gestures matched his words. He even went as far as to light his hands with pink ectoplasm. Danny watched them flicker through the reflection in the basin of the fountain.

“No, you couldn’t.”

“No,” said Vlad, lowering and extinguishing his hands, “I couldn’t.” He kept looking up at the sky. “It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s strange. All this power we’ve had, and our passions, all our goals, simply… remained out of our reach. But now we’re losing them. Our powers. Our passions.”

“Do you think we’ll find them again?” asked Danny.

“Perhaps. Perhaps if we live long enough, if we fight hard enough. You do want to be an astronaut, don’t you, Daniel?”

Danny looked up, but not towards Vlad. He focused on the thin, faint gibbous moon, visible even in daylight.

“I guess,” he said.

Vlad patted his shoulder as he stood. “There,” he said. “Then we should start discussing your education, little badger! You can’t become an astronaut by moping around my mansion all day!”

Danny turned his head to regard Vlad with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. “Don’t call me that, fruitloop.”

“That’s more like it! Now, come along. We have tutors to vet!”

Thinking about potentially doing more with this continuity.

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2023 #dannymay 2023 day 6: eclipse #badger cereal

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saturnxgojo · 2 years

Text

How he got his vision // Scaramouche x god!reader (pt 2)

✦ Pairing: Scaramouche x god!female!reader (she/her pronouns)

✦ Summary: He broke her heart with those five words, but what happens when she sents him a letter? Wishing to meet him one last time

✦ Warnings: angst, happy ending, inazuma archon quest spoilers, scaramouches real name is used so spoiler for that, more angst, i didnt know how to continue this so its a bit weird, scaramouche lore spoilers ig, ooc scara lowkey

✦ A/n: idk what to say

✦ Wordcount: 1100

✦ ATTENTION!!! do not copy. translate, remake my work, i do not give you permission to so dont do it. also GIF not mine, credits to the creator.

part 1

She hesitated as she stared at the blank paper. Her pen was shaking in her hand but eventually she started writing.

Dear Kuni

The paper was thrown across the room with the help of a gust of wind.

Dear Scaramouche,

Since you didn’t wish to hear my words in person, I hope my letter can explain. I really do wish you read this through, for your own sake.

By now both you and I are aware of who I am. You know who I am connected to in more ways than one. I share my power with him, yet also my weaknesses. It is a tale well known around Mondstadt–in other regions too perhaps–of the Archons who abandoned their people. Who disappeared for years and years.

My brother and I however do not control it, we fall in a deep slumber when fate finds it necessary. Hence I was not able to respond to your prayers. Even though I heard all of them. Well until the darkness took over.

I wish you to know that I reached out to you with all of my power, but it didn’t work. When I awoke I searched for you. I reached out to you, I wanted to find you, but I couldn’t find a trace. I eventually reached out to Yae Miko after a long time and I heard the story from her side. What happened to you- what Ei did to you isn’t what you think. I wish to explain it to you, to tell you the truth.

Please, meet me tonight as the sun sets, at the place we first met.

She sent the letter on its way, hoping he would read it.

She could only hope he did as she made her way to that same mountain she had hundreds of years ago. Her hands were placed on her lap as she sat down on that same spot.

She waited, and waited, until the sun had long set. She would wait all night if she had to, even if this were to be the last time she saw him.

Scaramouche had cursed under his breath as he saw the paper flying towards him. Of course she’d do this, trying to win him over. He told himself that he’d only read the paper to get a laugh out of it, nothing more. But as he read it he couldn’t help feeling–he didn’t know the word for it.

So in the end, long after she said to meet him, he walked to the destination. It wasn’t a long walk from where he was staying.

Both of the non-humans admitted they were scared–perhaps a bit happy too–to see the other again. He did not understand his emotions–he was supposed to be unlovable, his mother made sure of that. She did understand her emotions–to a certain level. She understood that this could very possibly be the last time she saw him, but also that if he came to meet her it would mean he still cared enough about her.

The minutes passed and the sky turned a deep blue, bright stars shining down on Tevyet. And then, finally after an hour of waiting he appeared in her vision.

Scaramouche walked that same road he did a lifetime ago, this time with more confidence–and power. Though as he walked here old memories came back to him, and suddenly he was that frial, scared and weak little boy again. Sobbing in the middle of the road, until a strange girl with a glowing orb on her hip came up to him and held him in her arms. Calming him down and slowing his tears. Then she gave him something that changed his life; a vision.

“If you ever need anything, just call out my name.” she had promised, and she did as she promised, for a while. Then, she abandoned him like everyone else did.

Scaramouche snapped back to reality when he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Before he turned around he wiped away the tears on his cheeks he didn’t even realize were there.

When he turned around he was met with your tired and puffy eyes, he could see no sign of the warmth they once held, they were empty.

“Speak,” he said, kinder than he intended to.

Your eyes were locked on his as tears dared to fall down while you spoke. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“No, not that. About- about my mother.”

You swallowed deeply. Scaramouche had to stop himself from forcing himself into your arms–to feel your body warmth seep onto him, or hear your soft voice hum a melody, to have your fingers brush his hair as he let go of emotions while his tears soaked your shirt.

“Your mother- your mother didn’t abandon you, she set you free in the world because she didn’t have the heart to get rid of you. She didn’t have the heart to kill you because you reminded her of herself too much, she would never have forgiven herself if she- did. So she set you free in the world to live a happy life.”

You went on, and on. And as you did Scaramouche felt the tears coming back.

The pain in your voice, the emptiness in your eyes- it broke his heart. Had he truly meant so much to you? Had you truly loved him? No. No that was not possible, he was unlovable.

“I wanted you to know the truth. And perhaps to see you again one last time. Seeing I don't know how this night will end.”

It was the first tear that slipped out of your eye that made Scaramouche break apart. He took a step towards you and pulled you against him, it didn’t take long for your legs to give out as the two of you sank to the ground.

One of his hands was wrapped around your waist as the other one held onto the back of your head; holding you close. His tears soaking your shirt.

“I don’t think I ever lost faith in you- deep down I always knew you’d come back.”

Your hands were entangled in his hair as you sobbed.

“I did everything I could to- to wake up- but the darkness- it was too powerful.”

It felt like a part of you came to life again, a weight lifted off your shoulders.

And so it happens, that even the wishes of gods can come true. For now the Archon and Fatui harbinger would be okay, and that was all they cared about.

The end.

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idk what this is tbh, but yeah hope yall liked your food xx

tags: @sx0leillia

#genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scara #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin angst #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin imagines

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gojoidyll · 8 months

Text

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 4 | my life

Warnings | death , gojo starts to get a bit delusional , yandere gojo , gojo being salty about y/n's new life , mentions of su!c!de by poison , murder , grammatical errors , etc.

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

year 1120 AD

GOJO SHIRO, at the somewhat middle age of 30, couldn't believe his eyes. His six eyes, dulled a bit due to age, seemed to ignite with a sort of happiness as he looked down at a newborn that his dear daughter wanted him to meet. (As he got older, he was practically forced to marry someone from the clan elders despite him being the lord of the land and head of the clan now. He honestly didn't want to as he saw it as him betraying y/n, but alas, life must go on for the Gojo clan.)

"Her name is Y/n Gojo, isn't she cute?"

Life sure was cruel. Here he was still not dead from his second life and here y/n was already in her third, her second reincarnation. A sort of dark pit settled within him. A seed of pure rage entangled him and took root.

"She is cute," he muttered, but she wasn't supposed to start her second life without me. And she's a Gojo no less, so even if I reincarnated we wouldn't be able to be married together, we would be related to each other for God's sake!

He had to right the wrong.

So, he made a quick decision. A just decision.

"However, she's been cursed."

His daughter paled, "w- what?! Cursed?! But father-"

He held up his hand as y/n laid gently in his arms, "you know the rules as much as I do. That husband must of done something to you during childbirth, or when she was being conceived. You know better than anyone else that the Gojo clan has enemies lurking in the shadows."

"Minako would never hurt her! He loves our little girl!"

"And how can you be sure? You nor anyone else has the six eyes, you nor anyone else can see what I see, and this child is cursed. She'll bring the Gojo clan to ruin if she exists a second longer."

"But father-"

"Enough! If you do not have the will to end this cursed child's life, then I will take it upon myself."

"You can't father! You can't! There must be another way! We can save her!"

His daughter was in hysterics. All she wanted was for her father to finally meet her baby little girl. If she knew this was going to happen, then she would of run away with y/n and Minako in tow.

Urumei was summoned a moment later and had grabbed a tight hold of Gojo's daughter.

"Take her outside while I handle this."

"Of course, my lord."

His daughter could only kick and scream in Urumei's grip. Her wails being heard outside the door and down the hall as Gojo was left with y/n. His six eyes now focused onto the small baby in his arms.

"You're quite cruel for doing this to me, but don't worry y/n, my precious little y/n. I know you didn't have control over where you were born and who you were born too. But you must understand .. if I die and am reincarnated and you're not there, then how will I live? You're my world. And I'm your moon. You said so yourself. We made a deal. Its only fair that we be reincarnated at the same time so that we're together."

He activated hollow purple. And, for a moment, he was glad that she was still asleep. He doesn't think he would be able to go through with it if she were awake, and just as he was about to go through with it. She had opened her eyes. They were a brilliant, bright (color) and his breath faltered. Looking up at him, she smiled and giggled and held out her chubby, small hands up to him. Her fingers making grabbing motions.

He deactivated hollow purple and decided to just come up with the excuse to raise her himself and to "make sure she wasn't cursed anymore and didn't hurt anyone within the clan."

His daughter, when she was brought back in, could only weep and smile at the good news, grateful to her father for not killing her baby. Granted, since y/n was still "cursed" as she and everyone else within the clan were told to believe, then it meant she wouldn't be able to take care of her daughter and instead her father would look after her instead. But she was still happy nonetheless.

And that was how life went for the next fourteen years.

"Father, father, father!"

Now at the age of 44, Shiro could be found carrying y/n around on his back as she would point at the different food stalls, wanting to try all the different kinds of sweets they had.

Now, Shiro was, in fact, her grandfather of course, but he decided to blur the lines a bit on that since he was still young and because his daughter and her husband had passed away tragically in a cursed spirit attack when y/n was only two years old. Many found it odd how he didn't seem phased over their deaths but reckoned that he just needed to focus on caring for his newly made daughter instead.

And y/n simply didn't need to know. Besides, as he said, he was still relatively young so what was the harm in posing as her father figure instead? (Not to mention that he erased anything and everything related to his previous daughter and wife. Hell, he couldn't even remember their names!)

"You want to try that next?"

"Yes, please!"

Much to Shiro's delight, despite living under his doting care she still turned out the same as in her first two lives. Cute, shy, and super adorable. However, she was a bit chubby but that was only because he absolutely refused to see her in a sickly state as she was seen previously in her other lives. And it was nice seeing her so happy. He doesn't remember ever being so happy before with her first two families. Granted, in her second life her mother there was nice but y/n didn't have a father and her mother was always working. Not to mention those bullies were- he seethed a little, that's right. To y/n, this was the only life she lived, but to Gojo he was still in the life where those damn brats killed her.

He tried to clear his mind and focus on y/n instead.

The day went on and soon night fell which meant their usual routine. Y/n would wash up and immediately get dressed in her night clothes and come into his room. He would already be in bed and would pat the spot next to him as she would happily clamber in next to him.

But just before she would fall asleep, he would tap her on the nose.

"Forgetting something?"

She giggled a little as she turned towards him and lifted her head forward. Her lips gently pressing against his cheek as she gave him a tiny goodnight kiss.

"Goodnight, father! I love you!"

He kissed her forehead in return, and hugged her close, "goodnight my sweet angel."

And as she would fall into a deep sleep, he would find himself in discomfort. This was not the life he wanted with her. Not at all.

So he would find himself reaching into the cupboard next to his nightstand. His eyes glinting into the dark when he would find a dark vile. In it was a heavy poison. He knew what he had to do.

Uncorking the lid, he parted y/n's lips and let the liquid slip down her throat.

Now, this wasn't a rash decision, he's actually been thinking of this for quite some time. He couldn't wait any longer to die and to get reincarnated with y/n. He didn't want to be her father figure or even a father to her. He wanted to be her husband. But life was cruel.

It wasn't fair.

not fair

Thats what he always told himself, and he finally went through with it, and making sure that her heart stopped and she was truly dead. He, too, took a swig from the bottle and then promptly tossed the vile out the open window for someone to find while on patrol.

It wasn't fair. He deserved to have y/n as a wife, not a daughter, or as a granddaughter. It only made sense to finally start anew. Besides, she lived a decent life. A decent childhood. He could have killed her as a baby. Oh, he really could have. But he didn't. He let her live.

So, by doing that, he deserves to take that life away too and start again.

He knew they would be reincarnated together this time. Because they didn't end up together. This wasn't their happy ending.

Infinity taglist | @whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #female reader #gojo satoru #gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #gojo x reader

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justporo · 8 months

Text

Mirror, mirror on the wall

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 3

Author's Note: In which there will be smut. That yet again wasn't initially planned at this point, but we already know these two do what they want - in front of a mirror... I know this has been done before, so I don't even remotely claim this idea although it was much more innocent before I read other people's stuff. And now here we are - enjoy! (Also this chapter is by no means plot relevant for those who want to skip)

Song: Killshot - Magdalena Bay (slowed + reverb) Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings: Explicit sexual content

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

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„How do we keep doing this all the time?”, you asked Astarion through your happy tears. “I guess this is what people like to call the ‘honeymoon phase’”, the vampire responded laughing but his cheeks were a bit wet as well.

“It’s exhausting”, you complained “I hope it never stops.” To that the vampire laughed even more and kissed you. “Now, let’s go or we won’t make it to this ball”, he said and gave you a light slap on the butt. “You’re the one who keeps distracting me!”, you shouted and stabbed a finger into his bare chest peeking from his robe.

Astarion raised his hands in defence and made to turn away. You shook your head and wanted to grab your few pieces of makeup you owned to finish your look, but Astarion was behind you again. “Allow me one last distraction, my love”, he said and held up another small box. You rolled your eyes at him: “So you lied about the necklace being the last gift.” “No, I didn’t! These go with the necklace. Also, they will go nicely with your beautiful silver eyes, my sweet”, the pale elf pouted and opened up the box to reveal a set of dangling earrings with matching moonstones and a few gold hoops that were meant for the pierced parts of your pointy ears.

You sighed and made doe eyes at your vampire: “You’re too sweet, Astarion. These are beautiful. Thank you.” You grabbed the pieces of jewellery and put them in, taking another glance in the mirror – stunning.

“Now go get dressed yourself, I won’t let you go in this robe”, you shooed Astarion off and went to grab your grooming stuff.

Astarion sighed and left you to it. With your few things in hand, you knelt in front of the huge mirror – your dress bunched up all around you. You grabbed a piece of kohl to rim your eyes and put a little bit of tinted oil on your lips and cheeks. The final touch was a bit of the perfume oil that Astarion had already gifted you some time ago. Personally picked out by him, smelling of orange and teak – and proven to make you even more irresistible to him.

When you were done you turned to watch Astarion but he was already fully dressed, only tugging at the lacy bits of his sleeves under his doublet jacket.

Your jaw dropped. Before you could only imagine how incredibly he would look in those clothes but seeing it was a whole different affair. He looked not only elegant: he looked like someone people would erect statues for and paint portraits of – so they could swoon and cry over his eternal beauty for generations. You felt a bit light-headed and your chest clench in pain when you imagined that this man was truly yours.

He saw you looking, mouth agape, from across the room. So, he moved into his usual elegant stance, one hand casually held up, his shoulder back, one leg slightly behind the other – smirk on his face at full power: “So tell me, my love, how do I look?” Oh, the bastard knew exactly how beautiful he was.

“Not a day over two hundred, my dear”, you offered and pursed your lips. His shoulders fell forward and he looked at you, eyes half-lidded, tongue in cheek: “Count on Tav to destroy a vampire’s ego.” You cackled and got up.

“Just kidding, my love. I’m going to be real with you now. You look beautiful.” At this Astarion’s head and ears perked up. You had his full attention.

“You look devilishly handsome”, you spoke and began sauntering over to him, swaying your hips. Time for you to turn this man’s weapons on himself for a bit. He’s made you flustered often enough, maybe you could repay the favour for once.

“If sin was given a body and a face it would be yours, Astarion. And yet your creator would cry for the beauty they’d created and had given to the world”, you hushed, stretched out your hands as if trying to reach him and then closing them, drawing them back to your chest with a sigh and widening eyes.

Astarion’s whole posture straightened and his crimson eyes widened. You were sure he would have blushed had he still been capable of doing that. His lips slightly parted as he stared at you in awe: “Oh, my love, I think there was a poet lost in you.”

You stopped walking towards him and grinned at him: “Want another one?”

“Oh please, my eloquent little poet, you know flattery will get you anywhere with me!”

At that you made a little “oooh” and elegantly placed your hand on your chest as if pretending to be shocked. “Is that so? I had barely noticed”, you grinned and batted your eyelashes at him – this dress was obviously doing things to you – or maybe it was Astarion in his whole regal glory.

You coughed to clear your throat and began prowling over to him again.

“You look like a perfect piece of wrapped chocolate that I’d love to slowly unravel and then pop into my mouth”, you continued and let your tongue click at the end. Astarion’s eyes widened even more while you kept coming closer. “Or maybe I’d love to feel you melt in my hands until you’re gone completely.” You firmly held his gaze while you prowled closer. The vampire seemed stunned, but a proud grin crept onto his lips.

But then you stopped suddenly as you realised you had no more lines. So much for turning the canons on him for once.

Your brain just kind of short-circuited and you doubled over laughing. Astarion was stunned by the sudden mood change but then joined in: “Oh, my sweet, we have to work on your delivery.” At that you snickered: “Come on, Astarion, some of your lines are terrible.”

The vampire pouted: “I’d say they’ve gotten better.”

“Yeah, but only since you’ve been with me”, you pointed out as you straightened your back again.

“Yes, because with you it’s real”, Astarion answered pointedly. You threw him a warm smile.

“So, my seduction didn’t work?”, you asked. The vampire made a face: “Started off strong and then declined abysmally, love.” You laughed and walked over the rest to Astarion and kissed him.

“Ah my love, we have to do your hair and give you some shoes, don’t we?”, he said after that. You looked at your feet – oh yes, he was right.

Astarion grabbed your hand and dragged you back to the mirror. He took out the pins holding up your now dry hair until soft waves fell down onto your shoulders. Then he used some of them to loosely put up some strands at the back of your head while he hummed softly. Very quickly he had tamed your mane. Just like with everything else he’d done great job – you looked magnificent.

The vampire looked very pleased with himself looking at you. In fact he could barely stop staring at you. But when you whacked him on the arm softly, he snapped out of his starstruck admiration for you.

He went over to the bed once more and grabbed a pair of shoes from under it. Some flats the same colour of your dress with some silk bands.

Astarion sat down on the chaise longue once more and patted his thigh, shoe in hand: “Come here, love, let’s finish up this business.”

Without hesitating you put your naked foot on top of his thigh. The vampire’s red eyes immediately lit up and he looked up at you with a smirk. You smirked back and gasped when he softly pushed up your skirt. He pushed it up in an agonizingly slow movement over your knee; but then didn’t stop until it was almost pushed up all to your waist.

Then he let his free hand wander up your leg, pressing a kiss to your shin while still looking up at you. His hand was at the back of your knee making you gasp again and lifting your leg ever so slightly. He softly put on your shoe and slowly tied the ribbon around your ankle as you watched his long, elegant fingers at work. Yet again, the heat from earlier in the night made itself known.

Once done you switched to the other leg – the same procedure followed. You almost moaned at the vampire’s soft caress of your legs when you noticed he stole small sideways glances. And as you turned you could see: yourself looking back. You were reflecting in the mirror. Your leg kind of levitating in the air. And more: you could see the indents of Astarion’s fingers on your thigh. Your mouth fell open, then something clicked into place for you.

“I see there was another reason for the mirror in the bedroom”, you drawled as you let your gaze wander back to Astarion’s gaze. He smirked at you, sinful promise twinkling in his ruby eyes. “Maybe”, he simply replied while one of his eyebrows twitched and he finished tying your other shoe.

He pressed a kiss to your knee while he stroked your thigh – his grip a lot firmer now. You looked over to the mirror and saw his touch – and also, how you started arching your back. Some bits of your sinful lacey underwear were showing.

Need rose in you, pooled between your legs and sent pulsating jolts out through your body.

You slowly put your leg down from Astarion’s thigh but kept holding up your skirt with one hand. The vampire just kept watching you with an intense stare. The way he was sitting with his legs spread, one finger absent-mindedly, softly tapping on his knee and his lips slightly parted while your eyes were locked, made you think you weren’t the only one feeling an urge to feel each other’s bodies.

So, you sat down slowly on his lap with your legs around his hips – carefully placing your already wet core to where you immediately felt his growing and hardening need for you. You felt like a goddess – blessing your chosen with the utmost gift of yourself.

Astarion’s hands were almost immediately on your ass, pulling you down harder onto him. “I hope you’ve thought about how accessible these outfits are, Astarion”, you whispered and rolled your hips, making him groan. “Of course, my love, how couldn’t I?”, he snickered back and then moaned again, his head rolling back at you rewarding him with some delicious friction for his thoughtfulness.

You looked at the mirror again, saw yourself hovering above the piece of furniture, skirts all bunched up, revealing more of your lingerie beneath it. It was weird to see yourself like this – but also exhilarating.

Astarion saw you observing yourself and his face split with a dirty smile, looking perfectly pleased with himself: “Can’t stop looking at yourself like this, my naughty little pet? I can’t blame you. Because neither can I.”

You moaned at his praise and arched your back to offer up your breasts to the vampire who happily went to kiss your exposed neck with a wide-open mouth, licking up the hem of your neckline, his fangs slightly grazing the delicate smooth skin there.

You moaned and closed your eyes as you felt his arms around your back, pulling you even closer to him and holding you steady. Then you felt his hands reach inside your dress, freeing your breasts until they were propped up by the bodice. When you took another peek, you saw how nicely they were perked up in this position. And you couldn’t help being turned on massively seeing yourself like this – it made you feel ethereal.

And then the vampire hungrily devouring you. Worshipping at the altar that was your body.

You looked back at Astarion and pushed your tits into his face – losing any last shred of shyness you might’ve felt before. He’d called you a goddess before, you were keen to act on it.

The vampire groaned and bucked his hips, so you felt the friction of his erection against your core. Then he graciously took one of the hardened buds of your breasts in his mouth with a sigh. You gasped when you felt his tongue twirl around it and then how he softly bit into it. You hissed, soft waves of your hair raining down on your shoulders when your head fell back.

Your hands wandered into Astarion’s hair as you watched him let his tongue wander over your breasts, extracting small cries of pleasure from you whenever the tip of his tongue wandered over the tips or his teeth softly scratched your skin as he stole looks at you above him and in the mirror in turn.

You grabbed his curls at the back of his neck with one of your hands and steadied yourself with the other on his shoulder when you could barely contain yourself anymore. You dragged his head back by his soft locks. His mouth was wide open, his lips glistening as he licked over them and his bared fangs as he grinned at you – knowing exactly he’d been the one to get you this worked up and desperate for him, knowing he was the one making you lose the very last pieces of innocence you might’ve held – sinful bastard.

“I need you inside of me, Astarion”, you moaned and begged him. His grin only grew as his free hand wandered between you, past your intricate underwear and immediately found the sensitive nub between your spread legs. And the tip of his finger moved, agonizingly slow as you saw your head roll back in the mirror again, an invisible force lifting up your skirts and lifting up the lace of your lingerie.

You rolled your hips against him more aggressively now, trying to get more, but this only made the vampire withdraw his teasing finger. He pressed you down hard again on his crotch and you frantically tried to grind against him, earning another groan from him.

“Gods”, Astarion exclaimed breathlessly “if I’d known this would turn you on this much, I would have bought a mirror months ago.” You didn’t answer, merely rolled your hips again, desperate for more traction – a slave to your own lust now. And Astarion watched you, letting the hand that had been teasing you slide between you again. But this time to let the ball of his hand drag down over the bulge of his hard cock - once.

“Say please”, he purred in a deep tone that poured over you like cold water; sending shivers throughout your body as his hand went back to holding you steadily over him.

But you’d understood: “Please”, you hushed and let your hand take the place of his. Feeling him trough his pants as you dragged your fingers down against his hardened length, making him growl. That’s how you kept going for a while. Your own lust growing as you so clearly felt his.

The vampire held you, one hand on your behind, the other on your back and watched you his head leaning from side to side as if he was observing the most unbelievable creature he’d ever seen. From time to time, he slapped your ass without warning, making you gasp and hiss and wanting to push yourself against him harder. He also sucked on your breasts again until you couldn’t endure it anymore.

With your hand in his hair, you pulled back his head again and pressed your open lips onto his eagerly, while aggressively pushing your hips against his crotch. Your tongue was desperately trying to gain dominance over his, but it was forlorn. Astarion was still somehow the more dominant one despite you sitting on top of him, pressing your body against him. You broke off the kiss. “Please, Astarion, fuck me”, you practically begged and pressed your body against his again.

The vampire chuckled as he threw another sideways glance. For a moment he shook his head absent-mindedly: “I can’t wait to have you in front of this mirror again and again, my sweet – on my lap again or on all fours, your body facing the mirror while I’m taking you – or pressed against it.” You whimpered at his promise and desperately clawed at his shoulder and neck, begging for release, begging for him to fulfil your pleas.

And then Astarion finally complied, quickly opening up his pants to free his dick, simply and carelessly pushing your delicate underwear aside before lifting you up and filling you completely in one swift movement.

“You’re so delicious in every kind of way, darling”, Astarion moaned as his eyes widened at this feeling of you clenching around him, finally.

You felt so deliciously full and weren’t completely done taking in this new sensation when Astarion started to move. With his hands on your hips now to help you get more movement, he thrust into you painfully slow at first. But he quickly lost his temper as he watched your mirror image and his movements became quick and hard.

This wasn’t about being elegant anymore, this was about sating a carnal hunger. About giving a goddess the worship, she rightfully deserved. And a worshipper reaping the fruits of his loyal prayers.

“Look at you, my love”, he pressed out while fucking you. You turned your head and saw yourself: mouth open and tongue out, boobs bouncing wildly, your hips being rocked by an invisible force. Seeing it while feeling Astarion hit deep inside you was enough to make you come quickly, desperately clawing at the vampire’s shoulders as you rode your high and white bliss made you forget that you were still mortal for a moment. The vampire kept thrusting into you shortly until he also came violently and with a hiss, joining you in your ascension.

You could feel him twitching inside your body as you drifted off to the stars in your joint ecstasy.

Then you slumped together, both breathless, chests heaving. Holding onto each other carefully but desperately like castaways on the open sea. You stayed like this for some time, just staring into each other’s wide and open eyes in awe and love.

“We had better not ruined my doublet”, Astarion sneered after a few long moments of trying to regain composure. “Well, fuck you for putting a mirror in here. And fuck you for fucking me in front of it then”, you snarled and lightly boxed his shoulder before you carefully climbed off his lap.

“Is that a promise, my love?”, the vampire replied with a shit-eating grin as he carefully helped you stand up. You just rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but to wonder about possible future endeavours.

“You’re ruining me”, you whispered.

“I can only hope so”, Astarion snickered naughtily.

You both quickly helped each other become decent again, fixing up each other’s appearances. Then Astarion cupped your face and gave you a quick kiss: “I love you, you know that, my naughty little succubus?” “Love you too, you kinky little vampire.” You both grinned and snickered, then said vampire grabbed you by the hand and led you down the stairs.

“Now, let’s go or all the champagne will be gone”, he said while you went after him with another giggle.

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of fake smiles and hidden lies #tav

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