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kayr0ss · 3 years

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Hands that Remember Chapter 2 [AO3]

[Horizon Zero Dawn, Elisabet Sobeck Lives, Found Family, Mother-Daughter Feelings, GAIA is recovering, Ereloy]

Summary: Aloy saw the recordings, felt their grief over the death of their culture - the loss of their identity. Ted Faro had blown away the light meant to guide humanity through darkness - but she was willing to risk it all to take it back. To bring APOLLO back. It wasn't the first time that the world asked her for a miracle, but it bargained with a miracle of its own: This time - she didn't have to do it alone.

[Wherein Elisabet Sobeck returns, GAIA is recovering, Erend is done waiting around, and Aloy discovers a family she's never had before to help lift the weight of the world off her shoulders.]

Chapter 2: Re-Calibration

CHAPTER 2

It was such an odd thing to feel dirt again.

When was the last time she felt sediment and rock between her fingertips? A thousand years ago—quite literally. She’d forgotten the feel of it squeezing underneath the overhang of her nails, the discomfort of a pebble pressing on her heel within her shoe.

Little things. Living things.

GAIA Prime and all the other bunkers she had to oversee were exactly that: bunkers. Giant boxes of metal sealed from the world and its mounds of dust, dirt, and rock. But this disconnection wasn’t new: it’s been around since before she was locked away and working on Zero Dawn. It was there even back in Miriam, in FAS—even as far back as Stanford. So much time spent rushing towards the next breakthrough that she never had the time to stop and smell the flowers before they all burned away.

It was hard to wrap her head around the idea that flowers were back—blooming again somewhere out there. But for now she’d settle for the desert sand, riddled with weeds and other small signs of life.

She wondered what Erend might be thinking, seeing her run her fingers along the ground like a toddler. Eager to feel—to learn, no, relearn about a world she was only getting her bearings on. She caught a small blade of grass between her fingers. It’s alive, it’s all… alive again, she stared in wonder at the small miracle of live in her hand. Her return to consciousness was a violent experience. This was a nice change of pace.

The rest of the vanguard gave her and Erend privacy to talk, running errands in the nearby encampment and leaving them in the shade of an open tent. God knows she needed the space. She had questions—so many questions and while Erend tried his best to get her up to speed it seemed like there was always more. His rushed explanation was a disaster. Machines, cultists—whatever the fuck else was out there—and Aloy.

He said he’d try again and break it down slowly this time, sticking to what he knew and leaving the rest ‘to Aloy.’

‘Aloy’ sounded like a big shot. Someone important. Erend spoke about her with both familiarity and fondness—like how the other Alphas sounded when talking about one another. Whatever tangent he flew into—about what they had to fight off and how he believed it was related to herself and the other ‘Old Ones’—it always came back to Aloy. There was an unwavering faith he had in her that she could recognize: the feeling that they’ve fought together, bled together.

Endured something terrible together.

She remembered how he looked a little hurt earlier. “You’re Aloy’s mother, aren’t you?” He said it almost reverently, but unfortunately the answer was a very strong “no.” It must have been a misunderstanding—why would he think that?

“Got some boar roasting in camp.” Erend’s voice carried above the sound of his heavy footsteps. He walked closer, seating himself on a rock across her. “You feelin’ better?”

“I think so,” she admitted. “Alive. Which is better than the alternative when it comes to emerging from cryosleep if you ask me.”

“Good, good.” He crossed his arms. “Not hungry?”

Elisabet shook her head. “I don’t think I can taste anything yet.” She really hoped this side-effect was temporary.

“Well, let’s get you some soup. That’ll help.”

How she was feeling was a can of worms she didn’t want to open quite yet. Her body was on edge, the hairs along her arms standing in attention while she could feel the pace of her heart jog above average. It almost made her wince, the self-awareness of expecting a panic attack at any moment, but if her system had decided to be useful before shutting off completely later on, she was going to make the goddamn most of it.

Deep breaths.

She needed to take deep, long breaths. This was nothing but a jacked-up sympathetic nervous system stress response—there was no real danger. Just hypothetical fear. She needed to relax. She needed to think.

Orientation would be a good start—what, when, and where. And then she needed a plan. Something. Anything to do other than wander aimlessly like a fucking relic out of time. “You okay?”

It almost made her snap. He was asking if she was okay? She looked up, a smart quip loaded at the tip of her tongue but then—he looked so earnest, so concerned. An expression like that didn’t belong on a soldier.

“Not really, no.” She admitted.

“Huh.” Erend sat hunched over with his chin on one hand, looking comically close to that old statue of a thinking man if not for the wider breadth of his knees. He cleared his throat. “So…”

Despite the situation, she chuckled. “I’m glad to see that the most awkward of conversation starters evolved itself back into common use.”

The reference likely flew over his head, but he smiled while rubbing at the back of his neck almost shyly. He seemed… kinder than a hundred pounds of armor and a warhammer would seem like.

“I mean what am I even supposed to say?” He shrugged. “I uh, hit things with my hammer. You—and this predicament—are not things I’m gonna hit with my hammer.”

“That’s reassuring,” Elisabet deadpanned.

“You sure you aren’t Aloy’s mother?” Erend cracked her a lopsided grin.

Elisabet rubbed at her temple. “I think I’d know if I was. Is it wishful thinking to hope you guys have any ibuprofen?”

She had been pointedly ignoring his assertions that she was anyone’s mother. There were more pressing concerns to address, foremost of which was the distinct lack of technology. She’s only been up and about for a few hours but it was enough to notice the rudimentary tools and structures, along with the fact that Erend seemed to be the only other person with access to technology similar to hers.

“I’d check if we do, if I had any idea of what that is.”

“Where are we?”

“The furthest west I’ve ever been, honestly.” Erend shrugged. “I’m not familiar with these lands. We generally call it The Forbidden West—but there isn’t much else we know. Just more… sand, and dust. I’ve heard stories of trees that grew on sand, at the border of an endless lake. Never been there to see it myself.” He paused thoughtfully. “I uh, made a short trek back east from where I found you. About an hour or a little more.”

Elisabet stayed quiet, willing herself not to ask the question prickling at the tip of her tongue.

“Was that your home?” Erend asked quietly. “Where I found you. With the tall, pointed trees and the old stone structure.”

“Pines,” she supplied. “The trees, I meant. I thought you would know this by now.”

He grunted. “I’m a captain. Pretty good darned captain too, but no tree expert.”

“No, no.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I meant you as in people, in general. The kinds of trees and animals, our history and technology—we tried to pass that on.”

Something wasn’t right—a feeling that’s been weighing on her since her awakening.

Erend and the vanguard were outfitted with plate armor and looked to have no means of transportation other than by foot. They had waterskins instead of thermal containers and their basic camping supplies were made of fibers and tanned leather. Nevermind real-time mapping and wireless communication. ‘Battle-ready’ wasn’t exactly what came to mind, and she’d have paid to hear Herres’ take on 31st century military technology. She might have even chuckled, had the implication not been so dire. Something had definitely gone wrong.

“Is the nearby encampment allied with you?”

“It was established by the Carja military as a way station, under the Sundom’s jurisdiction.” Erend beckoned her nearer, shuffling towards the side to leave space on the large, slated rock he was sitting on. “Ever since the Battle at the Spire, the Sun King’s been allowing expeditions towards the west—Aloy’s got a hunch that something is going on over there and you could guess that most of everyone listens to her these days. Whether she likes it or not.”

Carja. Sundom. Factions and nations, most likely?

“Just a minute.” He fumbled a little with his focus, looking up and awkwardly moving his hands in thin air. His frustration was noticeable in the deep set of his brows. “Aloy’s done this before—a map, on scrolls of light. She could share it with me while it, uh, did its floaty thing.”

“Do you have the map open?” Elisabet tapped her focus, hearing the small digital beam alert her of its activity. Technology was a familiar comfort—something to ground her. She whistled lowly while running a system check on the piece of hardware, trying not to wince at the fact that the date read January 14, 3041. The 31st fucking century. Safe to say it’s still working way past warranty declarations. “I think I got it.”

“How did you—its telling me that an external device accessed my display?”

“Hacking it,” she smiled. “This is more or less my area of expertise.”

“Right,” Erend nodded. “So we’re right over here.” He pointed towards a small glowing indicator.

“Outskirts of Carson City.” She had said it so softly it surprised her. She never pegged herself as particularly sentimental but being so close to home… after everything.

“And this,” he moved to the east. “Is the Sundom, and to its eastern border is the Nora’s Sacred Lands.”

Elisabet let herself have a moment of evaluation, eyes moving around the map to absorb as much information as she could. The satellite image let her know that the area’s topography reverted to pre-Faro Plague days: desert and canyons. Forested mountains covered the range to the east, but the northern range where she recalled Yellowstone was seemed erratically cold and glacial.

Information was a valuable resource she was lacking in.

“I need to get to the most developed settlement,” she muttered to herself. “Acclimate to customs and culture before finding a means to find and access ZD bunkers.”

“Bunkers?” Erend blinked.

“I assume that camps similar to this one are interspersed between the border of the Sundom and our location? At distances accessible by foot?”

“Yes, but—”

“I have to account for hostility along the road.” She crossed her arms. “And resources for supplies. What currency do you trade with?”

“Look,” Erend’s tone was firm. “We are going to take care of hostility and resources, because we’re going with you.”

“I—”

“You need to slow down,” Erend rose to his feet. “We don’t even know for sure if you’re okay after getting thawed out a thousand years later.”

“I need to figure out what happened to Zero Dawn. Find GAIA, and then—”

“Elisabet,” his voice was softer again, big and heavy hands settling on her shoulders. “We have time.”

Time? Of course they didn’t! There were a million things left to do and only two weeks until—

“The world isn’t ending anymore.”

He’d finally convinced her to sit down and get something to eat and it wasn’t damn easy. Elisabet was back to the makeshift planning table even before swallowing down her last bite and by the forge it was driving Erend just a little bit crazy.

“This is where we’re headed.”

Erend marked his own map, one that was tangible and inked on parchment instead of light. More reliable, if you asked him. Didn’t flicker in and out of sight—and didn’t make him look like a total jackass in front of his vanguard, waving his fingers around something they couldn’t see.

It was nearing sundown. The vanguard packed up ahead of time; they were leaving at the break of dawn. Erend split the party in two—one was to continue the expedition towards the Western Threshold, and the other, with Erend, was to hurry back to Meridian discreetly. It was a plan forged into metal: Erend needed to talk to Avad, while Elisabet seemed particularly interested in the Spire once he mentioned it.

“Utah and Colorado,” Elisabet whispered in wonder, tapping her focus on likely projecting a light-based rendering of them map on top of his own. “The staging areas for Zero Dawn.”

Erend looked at her with curiosity. “S’that what they used to be called? Before… before the whole thing—”

“Ended?” She punctuated, sensing his discomfort. But then she gave him a slight smile—it was different from Aloy’s. Wiser and wearier. “Though that’d be wrong. We’re still here, somehow.”

He smirked. “Don’t look so surprised. Didn’t you have somethin’ to do with that?”

“I’m just one of many,” she looked back towards the map. Didn’t look ready to talk about that, it seemed. “So what have we got?”

“We’re not in a hurry. We can take the traders’ path on the way back.” He pointed along a red, snaking line etched on the surface of the parchment. It was well-lit, well-guarded, and easy to traverse with enough camps in-between to restock and rest. He tapped twice on a marker at the end of route: it was a black, soaring tower. The good ‘ol Spire.

“That’d take us too long.” Elisabet shook her head. “We could go through these passes through the ridges. Cut straight through and save both time and resources.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“And time—”

“—is something you have now.” Erend stood his ground, arms crossed. “As I keep reiterating to you.”

“I’ve noticed.” Elisabet set her jaw. Then she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to—” she waved a hand over the map “—this.”

“You mean not being the one in charge?” Erend grinned.

“I didn’t really ask for that,” she smiled back kindly. “But old habits die hard.”

“The long way to Meridian it is, then.”

Sobeck Journal, 1-14-41

We did it.

Even this barren desert looks beautiful. Can’t shake the feeling that I don’t deserve to see it all though.

Not without the rest of ZD. Without the rest of you.

I’m going to forego writing about how I feel because I don’t even know where to begin digging up that can of shit. Exhaustion was always an effective sleeping pill back in the day: now that I’ve got time to think when I lay down everything is so loud. Given the state of things I doubt they’d invented melatonin pills yet either, but who am I to complain? Alive is still better than dead.

Off to sleep now. Something’s wrong with APOLLO. More things to figure out tomorrow.

After all these years, I still don’t get to rest.

[“—someone— … —back to see—“]

“Great timing as usual.” Aloy hissed under her breath. The strider she was on was nearly worn down. She was an hour’s ride away from the forest’s edge—right where the sands of the Barrens began. That’s what she was going to call them anyway: “the Barrens.” Those prissy cartographers up in the mesa have no idea just how large the West was. It wasn’t all sand and tumbleweed: there were forests so different from the Jewel and the Sacred Lands that she didn’t know how to begin describing them! And the lake… the biggest she’s ever seen. A body of water so large it must have cloaked the world’s entirety. She’s seen it on the spherical maps stored in her focus—a depth of blue so imposing she couldn’t even wrap her head around it. The air was different along the lake’s edge—salty and crisp. Both beautiful and foreign and so very unforgiving.

She gently stroked the side of the strider’s neck. She didn’t want to wear him down completely—best to leave enough so that he could carry on and survive another day. Herds of broadheads often wandered around the Barrens anyway, although not found as often as in Meridian and to the East.

She’s been getting scrambled messages from Erend for the better part of a day now. He sounded panicked. He hated using his focus but there was apparently something important enough for him to try. It seemed desperately urgent and the only thing she could make of his messages was that she needed to go back.

Chasing after GAIA and whatever was left of APOLLO was going to have to wait.

Her strider whinnied—Aloy hummed a small apology she hoped it could understand. If she found a charger it’d be better—she could ride through evening on a mount strong enough to discourage smaller machines from engaging them. By next evening she could rest by the ranch.

Aloy bit her lip, a soft feeling of longing at her gut. That’s what Elisabet called it in her journals anyway—Sobeck Ranch. A small speck of life, trees, and flowers on the eastern edge of the Barrens. A small place to rest before another two days’ ride to Meridian.

She remembers how freeing it felt to tell Rost about her misadventures so far. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to take a few minutes for Elisabet and do the same.

She urged the strider to run a little faster, wind whipping at her hair and the tassels of her armor. “Just a bit more, big guy. Just a little more.”

A/N: Thank you once again to Tototops for beta-reading this chapter!

It's been a hot minute but here we go with chapter 2!

#Horizon Zero Dawn #HZD #Fanfic #Elisabet Sobeck #Aloy #Erend Vanguardsman #Erend #Ereloy #Found Family #HZD GAIA #Elisabet is Mom #Brb i'll cry #Aloy x Erend

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winryofresembool · 3 years

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Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 31

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 4/?

A/N: Soo sorry about the long wait! This was a very long and kind of tricky chapter to write so it took me longer than I would have wanted. But in a way this is (ironically) a good day to post this chapter as it's the Mother's day in many parts of the world today. (Happy Mother’s day Esperanza Valdez ;___;)

Before we head into this chapter, I want to give you guys a warning that it (specifically, the flashback in the beginning of the chapter) talks about what happened to Leo's mother, so in case you find that too hard to read, feel free to skip it. (If you have read HoO, I think you can somewhat guess what to expect)

Thanks for all the amazing support you guys have given me so far! ♥ It's what keeps me going! Now, enjoy, and remember that I'd really like to hear what you think because there's a lot going on in this chapter!

Words: 5550 (yeah, long one)

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: minor character death (talked about), be aware!

previous chapter / AO3

*flashback*

There was fire. So much fire.

Leo had been tinkering with his toy tools and drawing some simple blueprints in the living room when he had remembered that he had left his hammer into his room. He went to look for it and it took him a couple of minutes to locate it from under the unfinished toys and papers he had thrown around. Unfortunately, that couple of minutes had been enough for all hell to break loose in the living room.

He started smelling smoke and ran back downstairs to see where it came from. The wooden floor and several pieces of furniture in the living room were on fire, which seemed to have started from the papers he had left near the fireplace. Leo’s mind went completely blank like a machine that had just been shut down. The only thing that he was capable of thinking was: what do I do?

His mother had put a fire in the fireplace before she had left to run some errands because it had been a cold day. She had warned Leo several times to be careful with it, even putting a bucket of water and a smothering blanket nearby in case of emergency. But it was already too late to use them; the fire had already spread too far in the room. Because of his state of panic, it took Leo a while to manage to make decisions, but finally, his brain told him: get your phone so you can call mom, and run.

What his 8-year-old brain didn’t understand: he should have just left the building right then and asked a neighbor or someone to call the fire department instead. But Leo could only think how the very thing his mother had been worried about just happened and how she’d probably never forgive him for – no matter how accidentally – burning their home. He had vague memories of leaving his cell phone that he had gotten a few months earlier on his birthday into his room, so he ran upstairs as quickly as he could with his short, wobbly legs. However, the phone wasn’t on his desk like he had anticipated, and it took him a while to remember he had thrown it under the bed after getting frustrated with his homework; the words on the textbook they were supposed to read had not made any sense to him.

Once he finally found the cell phone and went back downstairs to leave the building, the fire had already spread so much that he could barely see anything from the smoke. Coughing, he tried to cover his mouth with his shirt so he could protect himself from the smoke and dash to the door, but he soon realized it was not possible. His road was blocked, and the only way for him to get out would be through the upstairs windows.

Leo didn’t have the time to figure out how to open the windows so he ended up breaking his bedroom window with a real hammer that he happened to find nearby. Shaking, breathing heavily and trying to avoid the glass shards, he looked down. The fall would be quite big, at least 5-6 meters, but he was no stranger to broken bones. The fights with other school kids had taught him a thing or two about that. He would still be more likely to survive the fall than trying to go out from downstairs; at least there were no stones or other hard objects under the window. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn’t even notice that his hands were bleeding; they had hit the broken glass when he had peeked out.

Finally, he managed to gain enough courage to climb up the windowsill and lift one of his legs over the edge. In the process he scraped himself some more in the glass and tore his pants a bit as well, but who cared? It was a very minor thing compared to his mother’s face if she’d find him dead in the house. For a moment Leo thought about all the blueprints and devices in development in the basement of the house, how hours and hours of his mother’s work would go to waste if the entire house burned down – but that was a thing to worry about for later. It was already too late to do anything but to try to escape.

With a huge lump in his throat as he imagined how his mother would hate him when she’d find out about the fire, Leo finally lifted his other leg over the edge as well, sitting on the windowsill with his legs hanging in the air. The distance between him and the ground seemed even bigger than it had earlier, but he had to do this. Slowly, he inched himself forward, hesitating a bit more, but the sound of the fire breaking something downstairs startled him and finally, he dropped down.

After that his memories started getting hazy. He fainted when hitting the ground and when he first woke up he noticed the pain in his left ankle and some blood coming from his forehead. He was laying on the grass, not unharmed but at least alive, and suddenly he got aware that he had to get farther from the house because the fire could easily spread to the surrounding grounds. He could only hope that a neighbor or a passerby had already called the fire department because he himself would not be able to do that, not with his dizzy head and the pain everywhere in his body. Before he passed out again, his last thought was: when would his mother be back?

The next time he was conscious, he remembered trying to drag himself forward with his hands. He could not stand up, and not even crawl, so that was the only thing he could do. Inch by inch, he got a bit farther from his falling spot, and by that time he also started hearing some distant sirens and human yells somewhere, but his mind could not comprehend what all of it meant.

After that, the next thing he remembered was being lifted from the ground by a first responder. The man tried to tell him soothing words, probably something like ‘poor child, it will be alright’, but Leo didn’t care. He wished the fogginess of his brain would just fade so he could speak and walk on his own feet and find out what happened to his mother – if she returned yet – but afterwards, he wished he would have never found out.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, not really sure what was happening around him, until finally he woke up in the hospital. One of his legs and arms had been plastered and a bandage had been wrapped around his head. Already he wished he could have just ripped them off and run away but he knew that wasn’t possible. A couple of minutes later, a nurse finally arrived at his bedside.

“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, testing his forehead to see if he had a fever. “You scared us there, young one.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about! Where’s my mom?! Hasn’t anyone told her I am here?” Leo demanded in a hoarse voice.

The nurse ignored his question. “Now, what is your name?”

“Leo Valdez,” he answered grumpily, glaring at the nurse.

“Good. How old are you?” the woman asked then.

“8 years. But how does that have anything to do with anything? I want my mom here!”

“Calm down, Mr. Valdez. We are just doing some routine tests. You hit your head pretty badly. Now, do you remember your home address?”

Leo, despite still feeling quite dizzy, got really angry about the question. “Yes, I do, but it doesn’t matter! There’s probably nothing left of it anymore! Because it burned down!” The tears finally demanded to get out of his system as he added with a tiny voice: “And I don’t know where my mom is.”

The nurse looked very hesitant for a moment. “I, um… You know, I think we are gonna complete this test a bit later. There are some people who have been wanting to see you.” She looked towards the door restlessly.

“Is it mom?” Leo asked instantly.

The nurse just shook her head. “You’ll see soon.”

She let the visitors in and left the room, closing the door behind her. Leo found himself staring at a firefighter, who he vaguely recognized as the same one who had carried him to safety after his fall. With him entered a police officer whom Leo had not seen before. Why would a police officer want to meet him, he wondered. Maybe they’d sentence him to prison for burning the house down?

“It was an accident!” Leo blurted before the men had time to say anything, trying to look brave even though he had just cried.

“We know, we know,” the firefighter tried to calm him down. “That’s not why we are here. We wanted to see how you were doing, and, um…” he looked helplessly at his companion.

“We have some bad news,” the police officer went straight to the topic.

“Is it about the house?” Leo asked.

“No, it’s about your mother… she’s gone.”

It took Leo a moment to register what the police officer had said.

“What?” he yelled.

“I’m sorry, but she is dead.”

Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was already so panicked that denial was his only coping mechanism left. “Again, what?”

“It is true, young man,” the police officer stated matter-of-factly.

“But she can’t be! She wasn’t even home…!” Leo squeaked, trying to make sense of the situation in his blurry, shocked mind.

The firefighter spoke this time. “I’m so sorry, son… but he’s not lying. We found her in your house. The neighbor who called us had seen her go in before we arrived, and… when we got there… it was already too late.”

“But… but…” Leo had a very hard time getting any words out at that moment. “Why… why would she go in…? And… why didn’t anyone stop her?”

Again the visitors hesitated before answering. “This is just what we heard from a couple of witnesses, but… it seems like she had gone in to… look for you…”

Leo wished the sweet unconsciousness had returned to him in that moment, but that didn’t happen. Instead, it felt like something tried to pull his heart out of his chest. His mind was going through about a hundred different things at the same time: grief, anger, denial… and perhaps above everything else, guilt. It was his fault. It was his fault that the house had burned, and it was his fault that his mother had gone into the burning house. If he had been there to warn her… if she had known… But no, he had had to jump from upstairs to the backyard from where he had been harder to find. And then he had, only half conscious, dragged himself to a nearby trench where the humidity had protected him, being even harder to spot unless you happened to walk right next to it.

That meant that his mother had gone into the house thinking he was there… and she had died thinking he had died. All because he hadn’t listened to her, because he had left some papers on which he had been drawing too near the fireplace.

‘My fault. All my fault’, was all Leo could hear in his head on repeat. He noticed that the firefighter was trying to say something, but he could not register what. Leo didn’t ask him to repeat what he had said. Instead, he stuttered with a weak voice:

“You didn’t answer my other question. Why… didn’t anyone… stop her?”

The police officer sighed sadly. “From what we know, your neighbors had tried to tell her to not go in, that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to listen. The… smoke had already suffocated her by the time we arrived.”

Leo clenched his small fists, unable to focus his gaze anywhere. Everything around him was just a meaningless blur. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to him anymore. With his mother, Leo hadn’t just lost the most important person in his life, the only person who had ever really cared about him and understood him. He had lost his home, his safety, everything that he had loved. More to himself than to the men in the room, he sobbed:

“What's going to happen to me?”

And then everything went blank.

*end flashback*

…

When Leo woke up, he noticed he was breathing very sharply. He had to tell himself to slow it down a bit, trying to focus on the breathing instead of the dream he had just seen. Once he had calmed down a bit, he realized his face was soaked from the tears. The good feeling from the day before was gone, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he hated that holiday so much. His mother had died on Christmas day, 11 years ago.

The worst part about the nightmare he had just seen? It had actually happened. Sure, the details might have changed in Leo’s mind a bit because he had been so young when his mother had died, but most of it was true. The fire, the jumping, the people in the hospital, all true. When he had still been a kid, he had dared to hope that maybe someday the memories would start fading and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, 11 years later, he knew better. Thanks to the therapy and Jo, Emmie and the friends’ help, he did have moments when he managed to feel happy, focus on the future and forget the pain for a time being, but when it came back, it was always as intense. And it was especially bad on Christmas days, the anniversary of those horrific events.

‘Pull yourself together’, Leo told himself. ‘This is not what your mother would have wanted for you.’

‘No’, another, the evil voice in his head said. ‘But then again, if it weren’t for you, she would still be here.’

He groaned at himself and decided that it would be better to get himself up and moving rather than lay there listening to the voices. Sitting up, he combed his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it, with little success. After that, he wiped the tears from his face, trying to pretend it had never happened. Registering the voices coming from the living room, he figured some of his family members were already awake even though it was still rather early. They, especially Georgina, were lucky that they didn’t know what was going through in his head that day; it would have ruined everyone’s Christmas.

Trying to pull himself together and put on a happy face, he got up and washed his face in the bathroom quickly before joining the family. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, Georgina ran to him and hugged him.

“Merry Christmas, hermano!”

Leo patted her hair absentmindedly, thinking that Georgina was now only a year older than he had been when… no, he had to stop thinking about it. If not for anyone else’s sake, then Georgina’s. She deserved to have a happy day.

“Merry Christmas to you too, hermanita. Well, did Santa visit? Did he receive my memo on your behavior towards me this year?”

Georgina pulled away from him and folded his arms. “I’m not a little baby anymore; I know Santa doesn’t actually exist. But we did get presents! Even you, although I was kind of surprised about that.”

Leo clutched his shirt. “Ouch, Georgie! I thought you were on my side!”

The siblings continued bickering playfully as they waited for the others. They had a tradition in their house that everyone needed to be there for the present opening. Soon Josephine appeared with a tray full of coffee cups, gingerbread cookies and certain small pies she used to bake every Christmas.

“Where are the others?” Georgina asked impatiently as she started stuffing the cookies into her mouth and drummed her legs against the sofa. “I want to open the presents already!”

“Calm down, Georgie,” Jo scolded her. “Emmie is checking the cats and dogs because they also need care on Christmas day, and Calypso may still be sleeping.”

“Ugh, I told her I wanna start opening the presents early!” Georgina protested. “I’ll go wake her up if she isn’t here in 10 minutes!”

“You’ll wake who up?” Calypso showed up from the stairway. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, Leo forgot for a moment why he had been so upset earlier. Somehow her presence just had that weird effect on him. She was wearing a green holiday sweater knitted by Annabeth over her pajamas – pink with some small flower prints – and her hair was flying freely, slightly wavy because of the braids that Georgie had insisted on making the previous evening. Somehow even that casual look made her look adorable in his eyes and his throat felt dry for entirely different reasons than a few minutes earlier. Leo almost missed Calypso’s next words due to his distraction. “Sorry that you had to wait, Georgina. I was finishing up one last present because I wasn’t entirely happy with it.”

“No worries!” Georgina exclaimed. Apparently the last minute gift preparing was a good enough reason to be late in her books, because Leo knew that if he had been late for the gift opening, the little girl wouldn’t have forgiven that easily.

Calypso put her pile of neatly packed presents under the tree to wait and turned to the others.

“So, merry Christmas, everyone! If I am allowed to be honest with you, I don’t really know a lot about Christmas traditions… My family never celebrated it… But I want to learn!”

“We’ll teach you,” Georgina told her immediately. “It’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!”

Leo wished he himself could have been as enthusiastic about the holiday as Georgina was, but tried to keep the happy face on anyway.

“Cal, try some of those pies before Georgie has eaten them all.” He pointed to the tray Jo had brought. Calypso glanced at him suspiciously for a moment. “Don’t give me that look; I swear I didn’t make them. It’s all Jo and Emmie.”

“Fine,” Calypso agreed and took a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed once her mouth was empty.

“Told you. Now do you trust me?” Leo asked her teasingly.

“Hmmm. That’s still to be determined,” Calypso replied, but Leo could see her smile into her piece of pie.

As everyone waited for Emmie to return inside, they kept up a light banter as they ate their Christmas breakfast in the living room. Even Leo did his best to participate in it, and soon he did feel a bit better, although if someone had looked at him more closely, they would have noticed the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, Emmie arrived together with Festus and Georgina instantly pulled her towards the Christmas tree so they could start the gift sharing. A grin spread across Leo’s face as well when he watched the little girl run back and forth as she delivered the packages to their rightful owners. This was now, he tried to remind himself. What happened in the past… was in the past and his mother would probably have wanted him to enjoy these moments.

Not that he’d ever know that for sure, the nasty voice in Leo’s head said again, and the grin almost disappeared from his face.

To no one’s surprise, Georgina got the most presents because even some family friends and neighbors had sent her something (that’s what happened when she got everyone wrapped around her finger, Leo thought), but everyone else got their fair share of self made gifts as well. Leo noticed that Calypso had three packages; one from him, one from Georgina who had insisted on making her own present, and one from Jo and Emmie. He found himself wishing she’d like what he had made; he had spent quite a lot of time on it.

Before anyone could start ripping their wrapping papers off the presents, Festus was given some treats so he wouldn’t interrupt the gift opening too much. Georgina got the privilege of getting to open hers first. She chuckled at Leo’s jokes in the photo album, which Leo took as a success, and squealed excitedly at the tiny dragon toy he had carved from wood and painted. Calypso had sewed her a detailed gryphon plushie, because Leo had told her that Georgina had recently gotten interested in the mythical creatures, a topic Calypso knew a lot about. The little girl hugged the plushie enthusiastically while Calypso promised her to tell her more about the Greek mythology later when they’d have more time. Emmie gave Georgie a tiny beginning of a plant that she’d get to raise on her own, and Jo, the practical person that she was, gave her a pocket knife for tinkering with a warning that she’d only get to use it under her supervision.

Leo and Calypso allowed Jo and Emmie to open their presents next. It was mostly practical stuff, like woolly socks, self made chocolate, and new tools (which broke the ‘homemade’ rule but Leo knew Jo needed them), but Leo had also tinkered frames for a photo of the Waystation family and asked Calypso to decorate it with her paints. The final result looked pretty good in his opinion.

Next was Calypso’s turn. Georgina had attempted to crochet a potholder for her because Leo had guiltily admitted that he may have accidentally ruined one of Calypso’s potholders while cooking something. However, since she was still a beginner in the handicrafts, the potholder had some room for improvement, but Leo could see from Calypso’s happy face that she appreciated the gesture. Leo had also told his mothers that Calypso really loved her flowers, so they gave her a white orchid in a pot that Jo had once crafted. Finally, she opened the gift Leo had made for her. He was biting his lip and tapping his fingers nervously even though he tried to act nonchalant as he watched Calypso’s reaction. Before she removed the paper, she knocked on the surface of the gift, trying to guess what was in it.

“Is this a tool box? So you could borrow mine when you lose yours?” She teased.

“Well, at least that would be useful, don’t you think? But hold your horses; it’s probably not what you think it is,” Leo hinted. Calypso gave him a quizzical look and Leo took that as a sign that she really had no idea what the gift was.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she noted and started carefully removing the paper. Unlike Georgina, she made sure that the paper would still be usable on some later occasion. Calypso wasn’t entirely wrong with her guess; the gift was indeed a box of sorts. But it wasn’t for tools. Instead, it was a jewelry box; wooden, self made, painted rose pink, which happened to be Calypso’s favorite color. When she opened it, she noticed a small mirror on the lid with some text on it. The box also played one of those few songs that they both happened to like. Calypso traced her finger on the smooth surface of the box for a moment before she noticed that there was still something more in the box: a silvery bracelet with a letter C hanging from it. She took it into her hands and admired it for a moment before reading aloud the text that had been written on the mirror:

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one.”

“Um, yeah…” Leo was unsure how he should respond. Suddenly he got worried he had been too straightforward with that message, and Calypso wouldn’t appreciate it. “It was a quote, um, that I happened to stumble upon somewhere recently… But I thought it was quite fitting?”

Calypso looked at him straight into the eyes and for a moment Leo managed to forget that there were others in the room. It was as if she was trying to message him wordlessly that she understood the meaning of the quote.

“Yes, I think it works,” she replied slowly. “For both of us.”

Leo felt his ears getting heated and attempted to comb his hair over them with his fingers to not make it so painfully obvious. Given what day it was, he understood that it was ironic he was using that quote when he himself was struggling to let go from his past.

“True,” he had to admit, looking at the others nervously from the corner of his eye. “It’s… it’s something that we both should try to remember. Something we have in common, right?”

Calypso seemed to accept his explanation. “Right. Um, this box is really beautiful. You’ve seen a lot of trouble with it. The music and all… It’s really nice. Did you even make this bracelet?”

Even though Leo should have prepared himself for that question, he felt embarrassed to reveal the bracelet’s origins, afraid it might sound too sentimental. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat to get more time to consider his answer.

“The… the chain was from an old bracelet my mom had… My biological mom, I mean. I didn’t get to keep a lot of her belongings but this had survived… and my dear aunt didn’t want to keep it so I’ve been carrying it around as a charm of some sort. But the thing is, I don’t really need it so it was Jo’s suggestion that I could give it to someone who’d use it. She helped me make this,” he showed the C, “because I don’t really…”

“Want to forge anything,” Calypso finished for him. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. If you don’t like it, you can give it to someone else; I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind…”

Calypso gave him an encouraging smile. “Oh, no! This bracelet meant a lot to you so it means a lot to me. It’s a really nice gesture, Leo.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied, kind of flustered by her reaction.

Calypso fiddled with the gift for a moment before turning her attention back to Leo.

“Would you like to put this on my wrist? I’d like to see how it fits.”

“Oh… alright!” Leo agreed, wishing he could say something that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. But then again, he reminded himself, wasn’t that what most people thought of him? And since when had he cared?

Calypso handed the bracelet to him and Leo took a very light hold of her wrist, as if afraid that he’d burn her skin with his hot fingers. He was so focused on his task that he even forgot that it was technically against the ‘rules’ they had set, but Calypso had initiated it so who was he to deny her request? He put the chain around her wrist with fumbling fingers and closed the lock. After that he allowed his hand to stay around hers a moment longer. He swiped the surface of the chain with his finger, also touching the back of her hand by accident (or maybe on purpose). Calypso looked up from their hands to him with a surprisingly soft expression that he hadn’t seen since that day when they had promised each other to try harder to be ‘just friends’. His brain sent sparks through his spine and he felt very warm all of a sudden.

“I… um… it seems to fit, doesn’t it?” he finally stuttered, looking down at the bracelet, Calypso’s gaze still lingering in his mind. He let her wrist go and already his hand felt much colder, as if it was missing something.

“Oh, yeah,” Calypso nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain of the bracelet. “It’s small enough that it won’t fall but it’s not too small.”

“Good,” Leo said, a smile returning to his face. “Guess you’re just as tiny as my mom was.” He finally managed to bring out his more playful side.

“Have you looked into the mirror lately, Mister Super-Sized McShizzle? You’re not exactly a giant yourself,” Calypso teased back.

Georgina giggled at her response. “You tell him, Calie!”

“This Georgina here, though,” Leo grinned at her, “she must really have some giant blood in her. She uses my overalls in the garage sometimes!”

“I do not,” Georgina denied quickly. “They’re stinky.”

“Yeah? And you smell like flowers and rainbows,” Leo retorted and started tickling the little girl.

For a moment Leo was able to forget that he hated Christmas as he played with Georgina, but then someone reminded him that he still had to open his own presents. He looked at the pile he had gotten and thought briefly that he had gotten more of them than what he had expected. Georgina had drawn him a picture of him with Festus and sewed him a simple pencil case for his blueprint pencils. Jason and Piper had gotten him a book about weird mechanics facts. Percy had sent him a new orange t-shirt so Leo could return him the one that he had once borrowed after a workout (which, according to Percy, was ‘way too big for him anyway’). Leo’s moms had made him an awesome tool case where even the bigger tools would fit and baked some of his favorite goodies. Finally, it was the turn for Calypso’s present, though.

“What do you think it is?” Calypso asked, glancing at him curiously.

“My first guess would have been a pack of olives because you know how much I love those things… But this doesn’t feel like them. It’s mostly soft but there are some hard parts too. Maybe a bit like a backpack?"

“That wasn’t a half bad guess,” Calypso responded. “But I won’t tell you the correct answer; you can figure it out on your own.” She invited Leo to open the present.

“Okie, Sunshine, will do.”

He ripped the paper (which was Leo’s favorite shade of red) off notably less gracefully than Calypso had done with her presents, but his mouth opened involuntarily when he saw what was inside. It was a toolbelt, not looking like one of those belts that broke in his use after the first couple of days (Leo had a habit to load them too full sometimes), but sturdy, well made. Leo wondered where she had obtained the leather she had used in it, and hoped that it hadn’t cost her too much money. The belt had four different sized pockets for the tools and it seemed like one of them had something in it, but before Leo checked what was inside, he turned to Calypso:

“How did you know I needed one of these?”

“Probably because you’ve been carrying wrenches and stuff in your jean pockets and I’ve also seen your room and that’s enough for me to be able to tell you need a place for your tools,” Calypso smirked. Leo barely heard her answer. He didn’t want to admit aloud that one of the reasons why he was suddenly feeling so sentimental about a tool belt was because it reminded him a lot of the one his mom had made for him when he was a kid. “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble…” He noted more quietly than usual.

“It was not trouble at all,” Calypso reassured him. “I have sewed more difficult things. The leather was actually from one of my old bags that my dad got for me – which I hated – so I didn’t even have to buy a lot of the materials. Besides, you yourself made this,” she knocked the wooden cover of the jewelry box, “and I bet it was a lot more difficult.”

“Nah, it wasn’t…” Leo tried to protest and he noticed the others in the room had a hard time keeping their faces straight as they listened to the flatmates competing whose present had taken more time. “The music was probably the most complicated part.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, deciding to leave the debate there. “Hey, I forgot to mention that there is something small in one of the pockets. You could check it out now.”

“Alright, I will,” Leo told her. He reached out to the said pocket and found a small box from it. His smile instantly disappeared from his face when he realized what it was. Everyone went quiet for a while as they were waiting for his reaction.

“Why would you give me matches, especially today of all days?” He lifted his gaze from the box, his eyes sparkling angrily. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the box away and jumped up from his seat. Calypso’s sad face was the last thing he saw before storming out of the room.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au #finally this fic is living up to its name

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lolishdes · 3 years

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“I Can't Help it if I’m this In Love with You” | A Knight!Denki x Princess!Reader

Summary: Having to keep your forbidden love a secret, every night your knight in shining armor comes and visits you to shower you with love and kisses. Only at nights like these do your statuses and power not matter, both seeing each other as equals. With his embraces filled with love, you don't want to remove yourself from his arms tonight.

Word Count: 1418

Genre: Fluff

Warning: Only a heated make out session

AN: This fan fiction is dedicated to @strwbrry-lia, hope you love this fan fiction I made for you! And please don't forget to like and reblog this fic, I would appreciate it very much if you guys did, enjoy! ^^

As I lay on my Queen sized bed, the music box plays a relaxing melody while I entertain myself with a book. Since I am unable to fall asleep, amusing myself for a little bit more wouldn't hurt. A loud knock echoes in my bedroom, mostly at times like these my father would check up on me for bedtime, I opened my doors to be faced with my father, already in his night wear.

“Darling, why aren't you asleep yet? It's past your curfew already.” he asked in a softer and quieter tone, aware of others already asleep.“Sorry Father, I can't exactly sleep. Please let me stay up just a bit longer?” I pleaded at him, giving him puppy dog eyes, as per usual he couldn't resist. “Alright alright, but be in bed soon, okay?” he kisses my forehead before resigning to sleep with mother.

I shut the door behind me and rushed back to my bed “Alright, you can come out now, he’s gone.” I laughed as something emerged under my bed, his light giggles making my heart flutter. He rests his head at the end of the bed “He came in earlier than expected. Anyways, you're looking as radiant as ever my sunshine~” with that cheeky grin I threw a pillow at his face “You goof, come here.” I welcomed him into my arms as he pounced immediately like a puppy seeking attention. He snuggled near my neck, breathing in my scent “Hm, your smell always fills me with joy.” he hums in delight.

He’s always so adorable when we’re alone. It surprises me how stoic and confident he acts when he’s on duty but melts like a marshmallow when it’s only us. It makes my heart do back flips when he shows his vulnerable side to only me.

I racked my fingers on his blonde locks, soothing some of his tangled hair. He suddenly sat up and faced me “So, honey. Care to tell me how your day went?” With an adorable yet cheeky grin plastered on his face, I pinched it slightly making him wine, I giggled before replying “It’s been well, for the most part it's just the usual errands I run on the daily.” I said, a frown suddenly appeared on his face, confusing me. “So does that mean you've met another potential suitor?” His voice low and filled with sadness. His head shifts slightly down, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Oh no, Denki, don't be like that. Come here, baby.” With my arms open once more I began to brush though his hair, assuring and comforting him, pulling him closer as I only felt his comforting warmth. “Yes, I in fact met another potential suitor, and I wish I could have a say on the subject. But alas, Father wouldn't let me reason with him.” His strong arms wrap around my waist, making us even closer, with his face inches close to my ear. We bask in the comforting silence, only the sounds of the wind making noises. Denki and I share many moments just like these, just enjoying each other's company without a word coming out of our mouths. We know well enough that we have a forbidden love, yet that never stopped us from seeing each other each and every night.

Finally, Denki broke the silence “I fear..” he mumbles out, half of his sentence unclear to me. “I fear losing you, Princess. I love you too much to let you go, and it hurts to see that not everyone knows that you're mine.” removing himself from my neck, he stares back at me with a serious look on his face while clutching my hands and brings them closer to his lips “I’m serious about you, Princess. I wouldn't go down without a fight to be with you, I want you to know that.” he crashes his lips onto the back of my hand, leaving a certain warmth on the spot.

My eyes widen as my heart and stomach begin to flutter to the heavens, with my cheeks burning red he keeps his gaze towards me. I gulped, the atmosphere getting a little heated as my heart is beating profoundly. As he places one hand on my cheek and the other on the bed frame, as if caging me. Even without his hands around me, his gaze is enough to paralyze me in place.

“D-Denki…” I said, breathless. Our intense eyes linger at the other, the urge to touch and caress him was oh so strong, yet why do I persist to hold myself back, when I know full well that the night is only meant for the both of us. Whatever secret or scandalous action we may commit tonight, it will all be sealed under the bright moon light. “Kiss me.” I commanded him under my breath, with his hands lingering on the more intimate places. He smirked, aware of the effect he has on me “Anything for you, my princess.”

As he finally closed the gap between us, our lips collided in a passionate kiss. I sigh in content, as I melt when his hands caress the back of my head, pushing his lips further with mine. I was startled when I felt his teeth bite my lower lip, adding in an electrifying pleasure throughout my body. A moan escapes suit when he licks my swollen bottom lip, while a low chuckle can be heard from Kaminar ``Enjoying it princess?” He swipes his thumb on my lip seductively as he enchants me further to give in to my desires. Breathless, only a sigh escaped me as I inched my forehead to his, closing my eyes while I catch my breath “How in the world, do you manage to always take my breath away?”

Only silence can be heard at first, then a giggle follows. Cupping both of my cheeks, still resting our foreheads together as we soak in each other’s presence “You think you’re the only one feeling that way? If only words were enough for me to convey what I feel. I swear, you’ve always had that effect on me.” As he swipes away the strands of hair behind my ear, he gives me one final kiss on lips, this time less heated than the last. Oh no, this one was filled with nothing but pure intent and innocence, again, as I lost count, I melted on his lips.

Why is it that whenever I’m with him, the world seems to stop? As if we were the only ones living in that very moment. Is this the effect of truly falling in love? If that’s the case, then I’m more than happy to fall in love with this mischievous yet chivalrous knight.

“Can I stay the night here? I promise I’ll behave and I’ll leave as soon as the sun rises. Don’t want your parents knowing their precious princess is actually a rebel hehe” he teased, I only slapped his shoulder away as I laughed “Even if I said no, I know you’ll find ways to persuade me, my brave knight~” This time, it’s my turn to tease him, with his face slightly pink I felt as if I won at that very moment. He only grumbled, stating how using that nickname wasn’t fair, I only rolled my eyes as I pulled him closer to the bed sheets “Oh shush you, just sleep beside me tonight. You’re better when you aren’t babbling about.” Another grumble came out but then turned to a contented sigh as he snuggled further on my chest.

We both know that at some point, the sun will rise once again. Then, we’ll be back to our normal lives. But who is to say whe should always abide by the rules? Why can’t we live like this, content and happy? Was it so wrong? I will never truly understand. Whatever we both may face, I will always be right here beside him, beside my knight in shining armor.

#kaminari fluff #bnha kaminari #kaminari x y/n #kaminari x reader #Kaminari denki x reader #AU #bnha fluff #Knight!Kaminari x Princess!Reader #denki x reader

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kidmetsu-no-yaiba · 3 years

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What They Do When You’re Having A ‘Split’ And Become Angry

This includes: Tsukishima, Kuroo, Bokuto, Kita, Suga, Ennoshita, Ushijima

This is just how I perceive them as what they would do for a best friend/romantic partner that experiences BPD anger in a similar way as I do. Also I'm off my stabilizers haha..ha.

Also none of these are meant to be mean about the characters I literally chose my faves for this.

Uh TW for bpd I guess?

Gender Neutral reader bay bee

Tsukishima (Not the trigger):

Doesn’t even recognize it at first, thinks its just a normal bad day from work

After, like, 30 minutes of you just sitting there and glaring at your phone without talking or even changing your expression he starts to get a clue.

Goes about his normal chores that upset you, but he plays your “Calming” playlist out loud on his phone just loud enough for you to hear

If he’s exhausted every chore and you still haven’t talked, he purposefully looks for funny or interesting news articles about stuff you like and reads the headlines out to you to get you to look at him or talk

Once you start at least looking at him, hopefully talking too, begins trying to coax out what triggered you

Ignores if you make any outright mean or just passive aggressive comments towards him instead of answering but will get aggressive in return

If he manages to get What Happened out of you he immediately calls you an idiot. Regardless of what it is. Is a mean comforter.

“Getting mad over your best friend talking on the phone too long while you’re hanging out isn’t an excuse to be mean”

“You’re stupid if you think it’s your fault that your friends aren’t paying attention to you, not everything is about you.”

It hurts but, it works even if sometimes it feels like he’s going a Bit Too Far

Will watch comforting videos or shows with you if it calms you down but that's about it. Very big on “You’re an adult and I’m not your psychiatrist, figure it out yourself.”

Kuroo (Is the trigger):

Instantly recognizes the Shut Down while teasing you, when you stop responding, your face is blank except for your down turned eyes.

‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’ is his immediate thought

“Y/N you know I didn’t mean that right? We were just playing, I’m sorry!” “Don’t you have a proposal to finish.”

Immediate shoulder drop. Is also upset now but decides to wait a little bit before trying to calm you.

After 30min or so of you hiding under your blanket he decides it’s time to try and pull you out of your head.

Cooks your most aromatic favorite food so the smell wafts into your room

Blasts your comfort playlist on a speaker and loudly sings along to it

When you still don’t come out when the food is done, sits outside the door saying “oh FUCK this shit is BUSSIN’” comically loud, overexaggerates your favorite things about it outloud.

When you eventually give in, just to get some food, he corners you with his body

“What about what I said upset you?” As a genuine question, not a mean one

After you explain, he lets you eat and offers a sincere apology when you finish

Offers to draw a bath with your favorite scent if it’ll help you. It does.

Bokuto (Is the trigger):

You came home and Bokuto had the tv up high while watching tiktoks and listening to music. After a moment the tea kettle went off. Before turning it off he realized you had walked in and bounded over to you. There were Too Many Noises.

He tried to talk over the noise but realized your eyes were boring into his and you had The Look

Also a ‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’

Rushes to take the kettle off the heat and turn off his phone before checking on you only to see you’ve already gone in and shut the bedroom door. You didn’t even take your shoes off..

Big pouty, sulky fool. Mopes around for a bit after turning off all the noise in the house.

Eventually looks for other things that upset you and finds that the house is, kind of a mess actually. Decides to clean as quietly as possible.

Does all of your least favorite chores first incase you re-emerge from the bedroom too soon

When everything seems to be done he opens your door and finds you tucked into bed and scrolling on your phone, very quiet music playing from it.

It was only 5pm but he took off his street clothes and climbed into bed as well.

Absolutely gets up behind you and grabs you around your waist and snuggles in without saying anything even though he wants to

When you finally feel comfortable you look over your shoulder to see Bokutos already fallen asleep. Idiot.

You order takeout for when he wakes up because, even though he tried his hardest to be quiet, you could hear him washing the dishes and didn’t want to ruin the work he did for you

Kita (Not the trigger):

Very straightforward the second he realizes you are Not Good

"Y/N if you tell me what's wrong it'll end quicker"

When you don't even look at him he still continues talking "We both know you hate when you're like this. It'll make you feel better if you just talk to me even if you don't want to."

Is fairly stern when talking to you at the beginning. Not mean but just very much like 'this is going to get done whether or not you cooperate.'

If you don't cooperate then he begins to ignore you until you snap and eventually scream and air out everything that's wrong and what triggered you.

Goes through everything you said with you and gives you an objective perspective although it basically boils down to "I know you can't help it but your ego is hurting you. Not Everything Is About You."

Once your conversation on that is over he asks if you want him to watch tiktok or listen to music or something with you

Suga (Is the trigger):

He hadn’t meant to ignore you all day. He’d woken up before you and been so busy at work all day he didn’t get a chance to text. It was the club he advised’s meeting day and it was dragging on longer than usual, he hadn’t texted anyone all day to be fair

When he finally comes home he’s confused as to why you’re tucked in on the couch

“Hey Y/N you tired? Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk today there was a lot of bureaucratic shit going on and then the club president decided we were all going to stay until the end of the activity. Kids am I right?” He laughs and smiles towards you but you continue to ignore him

After some physical encouragement, poking and whatnot, it dawned on him that you are Probably Going Through It

Jesus Christ

Immediately decides he is not having it and moves your legs off the couch so he can sit next you

“Y/N I looovvveeee youuuuu~~~” He says as he pulls you to him by the shoulders “I love you I love you I love youuu”

Just babbles honestly, goes on and on about how he didn’t mean to ignore you and how he was honestly busy but he’s here now

And like yeah, he is here now so eventually you level out and let yourself be coddled for a bit longer

Makes pinky promises that he promises to text you when he’s busy or going to be running late

Also runs you a nice bath just in case

Ennoshita (Not the trigger):

Knows what's going on because he’s been watching you stare at the tv for about 20 minutes but, the tv is off.

Is objective with his words like Kita but with more emotional appeal

“Y/N I know you’re in the middle of something but when you’re ready, I’ll be ready to listen to you,”

If, after a while, you don’t make any effort to talk to him he tries to point you in a better direction than staring at walls and moping around

“You don’t have to talk to me but I found a tiktok I think you’d enjoy” or “You know you haven’t tried that new nail polish you bought a bit ago”

Is okay with just letting you figure it out on your own so you can apply the stuff you’ve worked on with your psychiatrist but will feel a little guilty if he doesn’t say anything at all

Will do anything that you need to get done but aren’t because of your episode like dishes or tidying your room

Ushijima (Not the trigger):

First of all, calls your episodes “tantrums”

Literally has no clue when you’re in an episode unless you tell him, he is not very bright

If you do tell him that you’re having issues he defaults to trying to use physical affection against whatever it is that you’re feeling

May or may not make you angrier by doing that

Although he wasn’t the original trigger, him being so dense might override it tbh

Like you love him but oh my god oh my god oh my god how have you survived this long

Eventually decides “I do not know how to deal with this” and just leaves. He goes to the store and gets the shopping done for the next 2 weeks and gets some cool looking snacks.

Thinks ‘well I’m already out, I might as well get the car washed’ after, turns into ‘Oh Y/N needed to get their new prescription too..’ ‘I think I remember a discussion about their package getting stuck at the post office..’

Literally accidentally does every single errand that needed to be done for the next month because he didn’t want to go home and upset you more

When he finally comes back home with 50lbs worth of shit from errands you’re like ????? because how did he know that you were stressed about all the house stuff that needed to be done?????

It’s not an instant mood changer but you definitely go from seemingly uncontrollable rage to ‘Okay I was being a bit much’ but as you watch him prep veggies before storing them away the way you usually do it, you level out

He is unaware you’ve levelled out so he tries to remember the coping skills you said you talked about with your psychiatrist and you are deeply confused when he asks you to open your palm and places an ice cube in it

When you realize what’s going on you laugh and tell him you’re okay and apologize for how you were being earlier and explain what triggered you

He gives you the cool looking snacks

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

lovely {8}

a @tacmc x @snelbz collaboration

Find previous chapters here: Lovely Masterlist.

Feyre couldn’t do anything but stare across the room. The pure elation at seeing her art, a piece that she’d poured her heart into, hanging in a museum, was snuffed out as she found Tamlin and Ianthe across the room.

“Stay here,” she breathed, barely noticing as a petite dark-haired woman came up beside Rhys. She handed him her wine and was across the room before she processed what she was doing.

Her new friend’s eyes went wide as she saw her walking towards them, but Feyre ignored her, gripping Tamlin by the elbow. “Tam, can I talk to you for a minute?”

A look of sheer surprise crossed Tamlin’s face as he turned and found Feyre standing there. Any notion she may have had that this was planned and she released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. He blinked and said, “Sure,” before turning to Ianthe and saying, “I’ll be right back.”

When she glanced over at her, the friendliness in her eyes had been replaced with ice.

They stepped off to a corner and before he could say anything, she said, “She’s not a good person, Tam.”

He blinked, grass green eyes wholly confused and asked, “Ianthe? How do you even know her?”

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced across the room, thankful to see Ianthe hadn’t noticed Rhysand. Yet.

Tamlin hesitated, then began rubbing his temples. “Feyre, not that it’s not a joy to see you, but last time we were near each other it didn’t turn out great, so if you’re stalking me-.”

Feyre barked a laugh. “Seriously? You think way too highly of yourself, asshole. Do I need to remind you that you were the one that fainted on my porch not long ago?”

He grimaced as he looked away.

“I’m...here with a friend,” Feyre said, at last.

Tamlin’s lips thinned. “Rhys, then?”

“You need to get rid of Ianthe,” she said, arms crossed, ignoring his question altogether.

To her surprise, Tamlin laughed. “Let me get this straight. You break up my date, while you’re on a date, to tell me that I should get rid of my date...even though you have no feelings for me, whatsoever?”

Feyre blinked. “Yeah, she’s aw-.”

“What gives you the fucking right?” he snapped, his eyes narrowing.

“She has a baby,” Feyre hissed. “And it’s….not a good situation. It’s complicated.” Oh, and by the way, the father is my sister’s boyfriend, and my boyfriend’s best friend. How’s that for complicated?

Tamlin just shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I hear the baby daddy is a little asshole.”

“That’s not true.” Her voice was cold.

He snorted. “Is it Rhys? Wouldn’t surprise me if he couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

“Is there a problem over here?”

Her voice wasn’t nearly as sweet as it had been in the bathroom earlier. Now it was sickly and reminded Feyre of artificial sweetener.

“No, Feyre was just getting ready to leave,” Tamlin said, not taking his eyes off of her.

“You’re making a mistake, Tam,” she breathed.

Ianthe asked, “Wait, this is Feyre?”

The tone made Feyre pause and she turned to her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The smile on her face was cruel as she said, “I shouldn’t be surprised. The best gold-digging whores are always the prettiest.”

Feyre wouldn’t have been able to stop the words if she tried. “You’d know, wouldn’t you?”

One day, when Feyre needed to paint a model of rage, she’d use memory of Ianthe’s face.

“Everything okay, Feyre, darling?” Rhysand’s hand settled low on her back, fingers wrapping around her hip, and she knew that he knew Tamlin was watching.

This has become a dangerous game, and while Feyre didn’t want to make a scene, she couldn’t remember a point in her life where she’d been so angry.

Ianthe’s eyes dragged to Rhys and she said, “Oh, look who it is.”

Rhysand ignored her completely. “Tamlin.”

Tamlin nodded to Rhysand, although he wasn’t happy about it.

Rhysand, though, wasn’t phased. His smile was radiant when he said, “Feyre and I have a reservation, we really should be going. Great seeing you. I-.”

“This is your boyfriend?” Ianthe asked, looking from Rhysand to Feyre. “You went from Tam to this piece of trash?”

Feyre’s body stiffened, and Rhysand’s hand around her waist tightened. His voice was still light when he said, “Wasn’t Az supposed to drop Ash off to you tonight? Or, did he just drop him off to your parents, since they’re basically the ones raising your kid.”

The only thing that brought Feyre back down to earth was the look of pure hatred in Ianthe’s eyes as she took a step closer to Rhysand. Even Tamlin reached out a hand to stop her.

“Let’s go, Rhys,” Feyre whispered, her words still hard, but not wanting to start a full on fist fight in the middle of an art gallery.

Without another word, they turned and left, Rhys practically dragging Feyre. He was pulling out his phone, dialing before they’d reached the city streets.

“Who are you calling?” She asked, both of them pausing to breathe as they looked out over the Sidra.

“Azriel.” He put the phone to his ear. “This changes everything.”

—————

Cassian had offered Nesta a drink, but when he opened the cupboard, he found absolutely nothing. Naturally, that meant that a run to the liquor store was a necessity. There was one a block away from his apartment, so he and Nesta were walking, hand in hand, beneath the starlight. She was still wearing that oversized sweatshirt, her hair in a messy-bun on the top of her head, and Cassian was absolutely breathless.

“You’re walking slow,” she said, quiet laughter lacing her tone. She tugged on his hand, but he didn’t move any faster.

“I’m taking my time,” he said, grinning. “Slower I walk, the more time I get to spend with you.”

Nesta snorted. “True, but the faster we get to the store and back to your apartment, the quicker I get tipsy and loose.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Is that you telling me I’m getting lucky tonight?”

She rolled her eyes. “You act like you don’t get lucky every night.”

With a smirk, Cassian decided she was right.

The errand didn’t take long after that, and when they got back to the apartment, Nesta flopped next to Cassian on the couch and said, “I want to take a bath.”

Cassian made a face, which had nothing to do with the whiskey he raised to his lips, and said, “A bath? You want to sit in your own dirt water?”

She raised a brow and said, “I want to get naked, relax and drink wine.” There was emphasis on the naked part.

He bit his lip and thought about his dingy little bathroom. “My bathtub isn’t very big.”

Her lips tilted up slightly at the corners and she said, “Oh, are you taking one with me?”

He sat his whiskey on the table and dragged her on top of him. “You don’t just get to tell me you’re going to get wet and naked and not expect me to want to join.”

She giggled and kissed him before she sighed, “You’re right though. Your bathtub can’t fit us both.” He was about to suggest a shower together when she said, “The hot tub at your pool can.”

He snorted. “Can’t get naked at the pool though.”

“Says who?” She cooed, and stood. Walking back toward his bedroom. When he followed a moment later, he found her tying her bikini strap behind her neck.

He stopped in his doorway and lifted a brow. “You weren’t kidding.”

She quickly spun around, adjusting her top over her boobs. “I don’t kid about relaxing in warm water with wine.”

Cassian chuckled. “You’re not supposed to bring wine down there.”

“Just like you’re not supposed to get naked?” She asked, with an eyebrow raised.

“You’re feeling daring tonight,” he laughed.

She rolled her eyes. “Get in your swimsuit.”

When he emerged from his room in his trunks, Nesta was finishing pouring an entire bottle of wine into a large water bottle he kept for the gym. He laughed quietly and she handed him a cup of his own. He raised an eyebrow and she said, “It’s straight whiskey.”

With a chuckle, he said, “Of course it is.”

He grabbed a couple of towels and they walked down to the pool. At half past eight, in early autumn, Cassian was surprised that it was empty. While he picked a chair up and pulled it over to the hot tub, Nesta was already stepping into the bubbling water, a sigh of contentment leaving her as she settled in.

He joined her, sipping from his travel mug full of whiskey, and draping an arm around her. After about ten minutes, he figured she’d forgotten about her wet and naked claim when she looked around and lifted her hips from the built in bench. She dropped her soaked bottoms along the edge of the water.

Cassian raised an eyebrow and waited as she reached behind her back and untied the strap. The water was just high enough that when she dropped the wet fabric on the concrete, he still couldn’t see anything.

She looked at him and breathed, “Well?”

He blinked, then slowly began to shake his head. “You know, when I met you, I thought you were an uptight piece of work. Now? You’re a wild woman.” He reached into the water, shimmied out of his trunks, and pointedly plopped them down next to the scraps of her bikini.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she crooned, inching closer to him.

He grinned. “I never said that. I’m starting to come to the conclusion that you were a wild woman all along, and now I just get to see your true colors.”

With a quiet laugh, she climbed onto his lap and straddled him. “Our first night together was a drunken fiasco.”

“Oh, I remember it well,” he said, eyes bright, as her arms wrapped around his neck. “But you also bitched at me for ruining your shoes the first time I met you, so my assumptions were valid.”

She scoffed. “They were a one-hundred-and-sixty dollar pair of boots.”

“There’s your problem,” he murmured, leaning up and brushing his lips against hers. “You spent too much on your shoes.”

She snorted but let him pull her into the kiss, lost herself in the way his hands gripped her hips, in the way he tasted like whiskey and how kissing him made her light-headed.

The pool gate creaked and then crashed closed and both Cassian and Nesta jumped slightly, looking towards the sound.

Another couple entered the pool, though they went to the pool, thankfully, rather than the hot tub.

Nesta breathed, “Shit,” and took a large drink of her wine. She reached for her suit, but Cassian grabbed her hand, pulling it back under the water. “What are you doing?”

He smirked and said, “I thought you liked baking a wild woman.”

Her eyes went wide and she warned, “Cass…”

He gripped her hips and ground her into him. The whimper that left her had him grinning.

“Stop it,” she whispered, although her eyes were humored.

The couple was nearing-elderly. If they even knew what was going on, they probably found it romantic, or appalling - either way it could have been worse, but Nesta was still pushing against his chest.

“You got yourself into this mess,” Cassian mumbled. “Now I’m tipsy and too far gone.”

“You’re impossible,” she warned, her fingers running through his hair.

He shook his head, grinning. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait until they’re gone to stick it in you.”

“Stick it in me?” she laughed. “How romantic.”

“Oh, I’m very romantic.” His hands wandered down to her ass and grabbed her, possessively, which made her laugh out loud.

“You know, I’ve had fantasies like this,” she said, feeling that wine coursing through her body, making her lighter, more daring.

“Is that so?” he asked, his hands moving up her sides.

“Yes,” she whispered, cocking her head to the side.

“And what does this fantasy of yours look like?” he asked, quietly.

“Sort of like,” she sat up slightly, gripping him in her hand and sliding down his length. His eyes fluttered shut and she breathed. “You fucking me and me trying my hardest not to get us caught.”

“Nes, they’re, like, a hundred,” he grunted, explaining why they shouldn’t, but gripping her hips and rocking her back and forth regardless.

She didn’t say much else as he head fell into the crook of his neck and her lips found his pulse point. His eyes fell shut and he gripped her ass, urging her to move quicker.

As long as she rocked and didn’t bounce, they should be fine. He was listening to the couple, not really hearing them, but making sure they weren’t suspicious. They should be fine, Nesta was getting close, he could tell by the way she was whimpering quietly and squeezing his cock. But as long as she didn’t bounce, they’d be-.

She reached back and he felt her cup his balls and he couldn’t stop the thrust he slammed up into her or the hiss that left him.

Nesta cried out and he immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her to him. He didn’t look over to the couple, he knew they’d be staring, so instead, he buried his face in her shoulder. He was hoping to make them so uncomfortable that they’d leave, and just a minute, later he heard the gate opening again.

As one they turned, finding the pool empty again and Cassian pinned Nesta’s hands to her sides before she could do anything. He slowly pulled out and pushed back into her, breathing “Let’s discuss the fantasies before we act on them next time, yeah?”

A little smirk appeared on her lips. “But what fun would that be?”

His laughter was quiet as he thrust himself up into her. Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting.

“At least then I’d know what I’m getting myself into,” he muttered.

“Is that a complaint?” She asked, breathlessly.

“Absolutely not,” he whispered. “You’ll never hear a complaint from me.”

The bouncing began, Nesta holding onto his shoulders, him holding onto her ass. Cassian’s head fell back against the concrete, his eyes falling shut.

It didn’t take long for the whimpers she’d been fighting earlier to become full-on moans and groans now and he was so thankful the couple had left as he lifted Nesta and pulled her nipple between his teeth.

She hissed through her teeth. “You can’t properly fuck me out here,” she whined.

“Should have thought of that before you jumped on my cock,” he said, face between her breasts.

“Your apartment is twenty yards away,” she groaned. “Pull your cock out of me, wrap it in a towel, run upstairs and then fuck me against your kitchen counter.” She tried to stand, but his hands held her down.

He smirked. “Is that another fantasy?”

“Not getting arrested for indecent exposure when when they come back is,” she said, pushing against his shoulders.

“You’re talking like we’re teachers or something,” Cassian grinned, then it faltered, as he was second guessing himself. “Fine. But when we get to my apartment, all rules are out the window.”

Nesta’s grin was devious when she whispered, “Fine.”

She settled down on him all the same, nestling in as low as she could go. Her eyes were wide, not batting for a second as she eyed Cassian. “Take me upstairs, then.”

“Okay,” Cassian breathed, his hands still resting on her hips as she rocked, back and forth.

A moment passed before Nesta whispered. “We’re alone.”

“Yeah,” Cassian breathed. “We are.”

Nesta groaned and finally stood, quickly grabbing one of the towels and wrapping it around herself, as well as her wine and hurried towards his apartment. He chuckled and did the same, remembering to grab their swimsuits, and when he entered the apartment, indeed finding Nesta lying back on his counter with her legs spread, he locked the door and continued fulfilling any and every of Nesta’s fantasies she would share with him.

~~~~~

Azriel had already closed up his shop for the day. The front door was locked, the open sign had been turned around, and it was only him and Elain, who was sitting in the chair at his station, watching as he finished prepping.

“You look nervous,” he said, glancing up at her through his dark lashes as he put on his black, latex gloves.

She cleared her throat. “I’m...not.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He asked her to unlock her tablet and one last time, they looked at the tattoo she’d fallen in love with all those weeks ago. “So we want the flowers and the pearls, but no watch? Right?”

Elain looked down at the stencil on her shoulder. She ran her finger along the curve of her arm, of the fall down to the upper arm. “Yeah, but shouldn’t it come down lower?”

He smirked. “What did I say about biting off more than you can chew?”

She blushed as she remembered his words in bed that morning. “I’m not,” she murmured. “I just know I want it on my shoulder and my arm.”

He pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder, beneath where the stencil ended, and said, “Next session, baby.”

She sighed and nodded, sitting back and staring at her shop across the street. Elain heard a couple of loud buzzes and then Azriel’s gloved hand settled on her shoulder. She glanced up at him and tried her hardest to look brave.

When he snorted and asked, “Ready?” She knew she’d failed but she nodded none then less.

She gasped when the needle touched her skin, and her cringing was so evident that Azriel asked You okay? every thirty seconds. After about half an hour or so, though, her shoulder was numb, and she was finally able to relax.

She watched him as he worked. She could tell he took pride in what he did, and he was amazing at it. His brows were furrowed, the lines of his face hard as he concentrated. Every now and then he would look up at her, just to give her a little smile, before getting back to work.

“Will your sisters be surprised?” He asked.

“Probably,” she confessed. “I’ve never exactly been the type to do such a thing. I was talking to Lucien on the way here and he wouldn’t stop asking me if I was serious.”

Azriel chuckled and they fell into a comfortable silence, Azriel’s music playing on his phone behind them. Every now and then, one of them would ask a question and after a couple hours, Azriel was handing her a mirror. “What do you think?”

Elain pulled the strap of her camisole out of the way, though it had been pushed to the side the whole time. “Oh, that’s weird,” she breathed.

Azriel chuckled and asked, “Good weird or bad weird?”

She tilted her head to the side and said, “I like it. How does it look?”

Shaking his head, he began to clean up and said, “I’m a bit partial, but I think it’s one of the best pieces I’ve ever done.” He snapped a few pictures before carefully wrapping it.

“I’ve got a tattoo,” Elain breathed, standing and walking towards the full length mirror hung on the wall.

“You do,” he smiled, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her neck, on the side that wasn’t throbbing currently. “You look pretty damn sexy if you ask me.”

“Is that so?” She asked, smiling faintly at their reflection.

He nodded, his kisses trailing down her shoulder. “It suits you.”

She turned to him, her hands sneaking behind his neck. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he whispered, and kissed her, softly. “Let me shut everything down and we can grab a bite to eat?”

“Can it wait five more minutes?” She asked, pressing her body up into his.

His grin was radiant as he picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and took her to his desk in the back where he plopped down in his spinning chair and kissed her, slowly, sweetly.

He took a hell of a lot longer than five minutes.

_____

As Rhys and Feyre we’re pulling up in front Elain’s house, Nesta was climbing out of Cassian’s truck. He walked around to the passenger side and waited with her, talking quietly until the other two reached them.

“I know that we’re the least likely daughters he’d explain things to,” Nesta mused, “but do you have any idea why we’re having a good, old fashioned, family dinner tonight?” She quoted the text Isaac had sent to his daughters, asking them to meet him at Elain’s and to bring their significant others, if they had one.

“I have no idea,” Feyre mumbled, as they began to walk towards the door. “But Elain texted me twenty minutes ago. Az had to bring Asher, Ianthe dropped him on her last minute.”

“Dad’ll have a field day with that,” Nesta muttered, as she walked up the porch with Cassian, the others just behind them. She didn’t bother knocking as she pushed open the door, falling into the living room, where Azriel was lying on the floor, talking to a babbling Asher. He looked up as they all entered and slipped off their shoes.

“Hey. Elain’s in the kitche-.”

“It’s about time!” Isaac swept into the room, cutting off Azriel’s greeting. He went to Nesta and gave her a hug, then Feyre, both of whom stood there half frozen. They definitely noticed that Isaac completely ignored Azriel, and when he caught sight of Cassian, Isaac’s head cocked to the side.

“You work with my daughter,” he said, plainly.

“I do,” Cassian said, holding out his hand. “I’m Cassian.”

Isaac slowly looked down at Cassian’s hand and blinked, dismissing it completely. “And you must be Rice?”

Feyre’s eyes slipped shut and she sighed as he said, “Rhysand, actually, but most people call me Rhys.”

Nesta was already walking away from the door, heading straight for the kitchen, though for Elain or the wine he knew was chilling in the fridge, Cassian wasn’t sure. He sidestepped Rhys, clapping a hand on his shoulder as passed and headed for the living room.

Asher turned at the incoming steps and his face lit up as he beheld Cassian. “There’s my favorite little dude,” he crooned, picking him up and holding him against his chest. Asher continued to babble as he patted his chubby hand against Cassian’s face. He turned and reached toward Azriel, before turning back to Cassian, babbling some more. Cass raised an eyebrow and said, “Pretty sure he almost just said dada.”

Azriel nodded and stood, bending over to brush the fuzz and lint from his black jeans. “Yeah, we’ve been teetering right on the edge for about a week.” He stood and walked over to where Cass held Asher and said,“It’s okay though, because you know what he won’t say?” He looked at Asher, and in baby talk, said, “Ash, say dada.” The baby babbled excitedly, but couldn’t quite put the two sounds together. Azriel smirked and said, in the same playful tone, “Can you say mama?” Asher stared up with his big, hazel eyes and blinked. Cassian snorted as Az took his son and tried once more, “Say mama, bud.”

Cassian chuckled and said, “You get way too much joy out of that.”

“Nah,” Azriel shrugged. “I get just enough.”

“What is that?!”

Cassian’s head turned to the kitchen, to Nesta’s elevated voice. Azriel picked up the beer bottle sitting on the side table and said, “Well, I guess Nesta’s seen Elain’s tattoo now,” and put it to his lips.

Cassian lifted a brow as Feyre hurried into the kitchen, Rhysand joining them in the living room. “Elain got a tattoo?”

Rhysand halted. “Seriously?”

Azriel grinned as Asher grabbed onto his nosering. “Ow.” After gently removing his infant’s fingers from his jewelry, he said, “Yeah, gave it to her last night.”

A throat was cleared and all three men turned around, where Isaac stood, watching them. “You did that to my daughter?”

Azriel hesitated. “Yes. I’m a tattoo artist.”

There was a few seconds of silence as Isaac looked at Azriel’s arms, his hands, his neck, all covered in ink, and then he said, “Of course, you are.”

Rhysand’s eyes met Cassian’s, then to their own skin, which bore nearly identical markings to Azriel’s. And rightfully so, seeing as his own scarred hands had done all of the work on Cassian and Rhys and most of his own.

Azriel was going to let it go, was going to keep the peace for Elain’s sake, just like he’d done when Rhys had called him on the way home last night. But he couldn’t do that.

Clearing his throat, Rhysand asked, “I’m sorry, but what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Azriel’s voice was quiet, but the hard warning was there. “Rhys.” Drop it.

Isaac scoffed, gesturing to him. “I don’t think it needs explaining.”

“I think it definitely does,” he said.

Azriel tried once more. “Rhys.” Let. It. Go.

The older man looked around the room at the three of them, made a decision and said, “The tattoos, the piercings, he’s a single father, and a tattoo artist? Because that’s what a man dreams of for his daughter one day.”

“Listen, you can dislike the way he looks without being a dick,” Cassian began carefully.

Isaac turned to him, and he knew immediately where Nesta’s short fuse had come from. “Oh, this is coming from the one who apparently has sex with my daughter at her - and your - place is employment?”

Cassian really wanted to make a joke about listing all the places he’d had sex with Isaac’s daughter, but decided the list was too long. Instead, he smirked and said, “If that’s the reason you hate me, that’s fine. But calling me out like that isn’t going to rile me up. Good try.”

Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but then Elain was calling from the kitchen, “Food’s ready! Everyone in the dining room!”

The men all stared at each other for another moment, the silence stretching on, but then Asher started fussing.

“Excuse me,” Azriel muttered, before hurrying into the kitchen to make Asher a bottle while the others went into the dining room, where the three sisters were piling dishes filled with food on top of the gray tablecloth.

The tension must have been clear, because all of their smiles faded.

“What’s wrong?” Elain asked. “Where’s Az?”

“Kitchen,” Rhysand mumbled, looking down at his empty plate as he sat. “Asher’s hungry.”

She nodded, looking at each of them, before backing into the kitchen.

She found him stirring up the contents of the baby food as Asher sat in his chair, holding his bottle, as he drank from it. He was gazing at Elain as she walked closer.

“Hey,” she breathed, running her fingers first through Azriel’s dark shaggy hair and then Asher’s. “What’s wrong?”

Azriel shook his head, taking the bottle from Asher’s chubby hands and holding the spoon in front of his mouth. He took a tentative bite and shook his head, reaching for the bottle that was sitting off to the side. “Sorry, Ash, I know you hate them, but you gotta eat them.”“Here, let me,” she said, sitting next to him and smiling. She held her hand out for the spoon.Az glanced from her waiting hand to her face and then back to Asher. “It’s fine, baby. Go eat with your family.”Elain could still see the look on his face, she could still tell something was wrong. She tried to make a joke. “Az, we both know I’m better at feeding your kid than you are.”He scoffed. “Great, he’ll think I’m a shitty, deadbeat dad, too. Add that to the list.”With a blink, Elain asked, “List? What are you talking about?”Azriel sighed and handed Elain the spoon. “Your dad is a dick,” he said, quietly, while Elain miraculously got Asher to eat his mashed peas.She sighed, refusing to meet Azriel’s gaze. “I knew it. He said something to you, didn’t he?” Azriel didn’t answer, and Asher was oblivious to the tension as he blew a raspberry, spewing peas down his chin. Elain looked over at him.“He talks without thinking,” Elain said. “And he’s judgmental. It won’t be a long night, okay? But, he seemed excited about this dinner-.”“He hates me,” Azriel interrupted. “He hates all of us. You should’ve seen the look of utter disgust when he found out I’m a tattoo artist. Then, of course, Rhys had to say something, and then Cassian got in trouble for fucking Nesta at work-.”“What?” Elain asked, trying to follow what he was saying as she wiped the food off of Asher’s chin. Just as Azriel was about to go on, Nesta peeked her head around the corner. “You two coming? It’s awkward, and we’d really love to shove our mouth’s with food so we have something to do aside from sit in silence.”

Elain nodded. “We’re coming.” She turned back to Azriel as Nesta disappeared. “Az-.”

“It’s fine,” he sighed, taking Asher out of his seat and holding him close to his chest with one arm, the other picking up the chair. “Carry his food for me, please?”

She wanted to talk it out, to ease his worry, lift his mood, but she only nodded.

Elain followed behind him, trying to listen into the conversation coming from the dining room. Only to realize there was, indeed, nothing but silence.

Azriel saw that the only seats open were to Isaac’s immediate right, which meant Asher would have to sit between the two of them. Or so he thought.

Elain stepped around him and took his son, re-situating the chairs so Asher’s high chair could fit snugly between their own chairs, as long as Elain sat next to her father.

Cassian cleared his throat. “El, that tattoo looks badass.”

Nesta and Azriel both closed their eyes and sighed, knowing Cassian always had to poke when he knew he shouldn’t. Rhys was smirking.

Elain’s cheeks turned the softest shade of pink. “Thanks.”

“I, personally, think you’re too pretty for tattoos,” Isaac said, plopping potatoes onto his plate.

“Pretty girls don’t usually get tattoos?” Cassian asked, taking a bite of chicken.

“No,” Isaac answered, simply.

“Can we just,” Nesta began, angrily cutting up her chicken, “eat in silence?”

“Family dinners aren’t meant to be silent,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “Besides, your friend there has a big mouth. I doubt he knows how to be silent..”

Cassian only grinned.

“That’s true,” Nesta muttered.

“So,” Feyre began. “How long are you in town for, dad?”

“Not long,” he said. “A month or two, maybe. It all depends.”

Rhys muttered something about leaving as soon as possible under his breath and Feyre stepped on his foot under the table.

Asher began to fuss and before Azriel could put his fork down to do anything, Elain was handing him his bottle. “Here, buddy. You can handle that while we eat, right?” He grinned up at her, chewing on the nipple of the bottle as he cooed.

Azriel couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he watched her lovingly gaze at his son.

“So, Azriel,” Isaac began. Az glanced up at him, honestly surprised he knew his name. “I can only assume his mother isn’t in the picture.”

Azriel took a swig of his beer and said, “No, sir, she isn’t.”

“Might I ask why?” He asked.

The table grew uncomfortably quiet, but Azriel just nodded, slowly. “We just...didn’t fit together.”

Isaac watched Azriel for a moment as the rest of the table picked at their food. “How long were you with his mother?”

Azriel cleared his throat. “Um, not...long.”

“Ah,” Isaac began, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork. “So, you knocked up some random, poor girl then?”

“Dad,” Elain snapped.

“No, it’s fine,” Azriel said, quietly, although his hands were clenched into fists on his lap. “Yes, I made a mistake, and she got pregnant. I don’t regret it or find shame in it, though. Asher’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Hmmm.” Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “I assume you don’t get to spend a lot of time with him.”

It wasn’t necessarily his words, but the way he had said them.

Elain’s face was in her hands.

Azriel’s words were hard as he said, “No, sir, I don’t. But I take advantage of every spare moment I get with him.”

Isaac opened his mouth to say something else, but Feyre said, “That’s enough, Dad.” He turned to look at his youngest daughter. “We came here to all have a nice family meal, but all you’ve done is...harass our boyfriends and make them feel extremely unwelcome.”

The smug look on Rhysand’s face, his arm draped around Feyre’s shoulders. It infuriated him.

Isaac slowly set down his fork. “I’m just making sure my daughters are well taken care of.”

“Oh, they are,” Cassian said, unable to stop the words as they flowed out of his mouth, unable to stop the sensual tone that went along with it.

Nesta jabbed him in the ribs. “You’re no help.”

“We’re grown women, dad,” Feyre said, ignoring both comments from across the table. “We can take care of ourselves and make our own decisions.”

“Is that so?” Isaac said. “Because last time I was here you were dating Tamlin, who was incredibly successful, if I may add, and you two were planning a future together. Now? You’re dating this…” He gestured to Rhysand, who only lifted a brow. “Bar-owner covered in tattoos who thinks far too highly of himself. Nesta is with that manwhore, and Elain…” He shook his head, looking over at his middle daughter. “A single dad? Tattoo artist? You’re getting tattoos! You, Elain! Is this really the best you can do? What happened to Graysen, huh? Clean-cut, well-educated, making six figures!”

Azriel’s body tensed as the room fell into silence. For a moment, nobody said a word. Then, with shaking hands and in a tone he’d never heard from her, Elain said, “You cannot come into my house and say-.”

Isaac began to cough, cutting off her words, and then it became uncontrollable, that cough. His hand gripped the edge of the table, the other pulling the napkin off his lap and holding it up to his mouth.

“Dad?” Elain breathed, her eyes going wide as the napkin became splattered with blood.

Seconds passed as Isaac tried to calm himself. Everyone was watching him, waiting, all anger and frustration and sarcasm fading away.

“Dad?” Elain repeated, quietly.

Isaac cleared his throat, crumbling the napkin in his hand. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure when a good time to tell you all was, but I guess this is it.” He picked up his glass of water and took a sip before continuing, quietly. “I’m sick, girls. And they caught it too late.”

#lovely #snacmc lovely #snacmc #tacmc snelbz collab #elriel #nessian #feysand

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Testing a Hypothesis

Pairing: Marcus Moreno (We Could Be Heroes) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: teasing, spanking, oral (f receiving), edging, p in v, unprotected sex, gendered language

Note: something about the perversion of having sex with a children’s movie character really grinds my gears. enjoy.

If you could go back in time to figure out exactly what choices you had made to lead to this moment, it would be hard to pinpoint exactly where you'd gone wrong. And yet here you were, dialing the number of one of the earth's greatest heroes, the leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno.

There was nothing untoward about this call. The kids you nannied had insisted upon it, wanting to set up a sleepover with Missy Moreno. You stared down at the business card he'd given you and hesitated, thinking about the events that had transpired that day.

Earlier, you had been waiting in the carpool line for school to be released. The two kids you nannied, Annabelle and Anthony, were in sixth grade. You had been picking them up from school for years now and had gotten in the habit of getting there early and sitting in your car, taking a quiet moment to yourself before the chaos that consisted of taking care of twins ensued.

But you were jolted from your relaxation time by a bump on the back of your car. Had someone just rear-ended you? Here in the carpool line? Looking in your rearview mirror, you saw a large figure emerge from a black car behind you. Yep, he'd rear-ended you. Begrudgingly, you stepped out of your car as well.

"Seriously?" you said. "How do you even manage this when the speed limit is zero?"

Instantly, you regretted the obvious annoyance in your voice. The man heading toward you was distressed and already apologizing profusely. If he hadn't been so handsome, you might have continued to berate him, but the kindness of the man's eyes and his unruly hair stopped you in your tracks.

"Did I dent it?" the man asked with worry. Looking at your bumper, there wasn't even a scratch. He hadn't been going that fast anyway.

"No, the car's fine. Don't worry about it," you said.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking worriedly into your face. "I didn't scare you or anything?"

"Really, it's fine. No harm done," you assured him.

The man looked back at your bumper, analyzing it just to be sure. "Let me give you my number anyway, just in case. I'll cover any damage." He pulled a card from his back pocket and scrawled his number on the back before handing it to you.

Glancing at the card, you noticed the name. Marcus Moreno. Wasn't that...?

"You're that superhero aren't you? With the Heroics?"

Marcus laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's me. Apparently, I can wield swords but I can't drive a car."

"Don't worry, we all have our weaknesses," you said, partly trying to ease his concern and partly trying to tease him as well. "Your kid goes to school here?"

"Sixth grade. They grow up so fast. What about yours?"

"Not mine, actually. Just the nanny."

"I thought you looked a bit young," Marcus said with a lopsided grin. Was he flirting with you? You watched as he leaned against his own car, mirroring your movements. Oh yeah, definitely flirting.

"The job got me through college," you admitted, trying to hint that you might be younger but you were certainly still old enough for him. "But I liked it so much I stayed. Now I can't get away."

You did love your job, however challenging it was. Somewhere inside the school, the final bell rang, and moments later, kids came flooding out. Soon, you spotted Annabelle and Anthony and you waved, letting them know where you were. They headed over, chatting and laughing with another little girl. As they approached, she called out to Marcus, and you realized it was his daughter. What a coincidence.

"How was your day?" you asked the twins.

"Fine," they answered in unison, a typical answer for them. "Bye Missy," Annabelle said. "See you Monday."

Marcus turned toward you and stuck out his hand.

"It was nice meeting you," he said. "I'll see you around. And call me if you need anything." Though he meant the car, you thought he'd probably left the invitation open on purpose.

So here you were, standing in the kitchen, staring down at the phone number written on the back of Marcus Moreno's business card. Funny, a superhero with a business card who picks his kid up from school and rear-ends people in the parking lot. Not exactly what you'd expected.

At last, you dialed. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. "Marcus Moreno speaking."

"Hey, it's Y/N. From the carpool line."

Marcus sounded genuinely happy to hear from you. "Something up with the car?"

"No, actually, the car is still undamaged." You could hear him snicker softly on the other end. You went on. "The kids wanted to have a sleepover and insisted I call you. I know it's sort of last minute, but it is Friday, so I thought it might be okay."

"I guess we could make it work. Give me a second." The other end went silent for a moment before his melodious voice returned. "Their place or mine?"

"Oh, well... I hadn't thought that far. I actually have weekends off, so I'm headed out at six tonight. But their parents will be home. I'm sure they won't mind."

"Sounds good, see you later." The line clicked and Marcus disconnected. Okay, then.

When six rolled around, you packed up your purse, placed dinner on the table, and then headed out the door, saying goodbye to the twins. Annabelle and Anthony's mother was already home and you were able to sneak out without too much commotion. As you closed the door behind you, Marcus's car pulled into the driveway, and both he and Missy stepped out.

"See you later, Dad," Missy said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running into the house. The two of you were now alone in the driveway.

"Hey again," Marcus said, looking you up and down with a smile.

"Thanks for avoiding my car this time," you said with a laugh.

"Alright, alright, I get it. I'm a bad driver."

"Your words not mine."

It was Marcus's turn to laugh. He turned back toward his car but paused a moment as if he wanted to say something. "Got any weekend plans?"

You shrugged. Was he trying to gauge your availability? "Probably a glass of wine on the couch with this week's crime documentary."

"Would you like some company with that glass of wine?" Marcus asked. Your assumption had been right. When you hesitated, Marcus noticed your reluctance. "I'm sorry, that was a bit forward. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," you replied, reassuringly. Fuck it, you thought, better to spend the weekend with someone than alone, again. "I think I'd like that."

---

Marcus picked you up. He actually drove to your house and picked you up, like this was a date. You'd agreed to go to a bar nearby, and though it was close enough for you to walk, he'd insisted your house was on the way and that he would drive you. You weren't sure how true that was, but you weren't going to deny a free ride.

"Don't crash," you joked. Sure, maybe you were taking this whole bad driver thing a bit too far, but it eased the tension and you liked making Marcus laugh. When you arrived at the bar, he led you to a back table. You noticed he sat with his back to the wall and kept an eye on the front door, real superhero style.

"What would you like?" he asked. You ordered a vodka cran to his whiskey.

"I've never been here before," you mentioned as you waited for your drinks.

Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, most people here tend to be on the older side."

"Oh come one, you can't be that old," you teased. Could he be? Marcus looked a bit sheepish. Maybe he was.

"Not old but... I'll be 46 in the spring."

"Oh, shit," you said involuntarily. Marcus huffed as if to say 'thanks, like I didn't know.'

"Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's just that- well, you're old enough to be my father."

"You wanna walk home?" he said jokingly. He was starting to ease more into the conversation and you thought he may actually enjoy all the teasing.

"It just means you're mature," you explained.

"Mature is code for old."

"Mature means I can have a real conversation with you and not feel like I'm talking to a teenager." You paused. You wanted to say more but were unsure of what his reaction might be. Fuck it, he was flirting. You knew what he wanted, but more importantly, you knew what you wanted. "Mature also means better in bed."

At your words, Marcus leaned forward on his elbows, swirling the ice around in this glass. "And you know this? Or it's what you believe?"

You weren't expecting that reply. But you liked it. "Just a hypothesis."

Marcus leaned back again. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes told you he was processing what you'd just told him. So you moved on with the conversation, asking him about Missy, about life as a superhero, about life in general. He was open and honest, willing to talk about pretty much anything, though you purposely steered clear of talk about his dead wife. It was no secret that he'd been married before, but something about the mood of the conversation led you to believe he was trying to forget about her.

Though it felt like no time at all, you suddenly realized how tired you actually were. It had been a long day, taking care of kids and running errands. Glancing at your watch, you realized it was almost midnight.

Marcus noticed your movement. "Want me to take you home?"

You hesitated. You were enjoying yourself, but you weren't sure how much longer you could stand the noise of the bar. So in the end, you relented.

As you pulled up to your apartment building, you didn't know what to say. Would he walk you to your door? Did you have the guts to ask? But Marcus killed the engine and gave you your answer. The two of you stood in silence outside your door as you fumbled for your keys. You wanted to say something, but what was there to say? Thanks so much for a wonderful evening. Thanks for flirting with me. No, no it wasn't right.

You managed to get the door open. Now or never. "Do you-"

"I should let you get some sleep," Marcus said, beating you to it. Was this goodnight? But he didn't turn to leave.

For the third time that night, you threw caution to the wind. "Remember my hypothesis?"

Marcus smiled, though unsure where this was going. "Of course."

"There's only one way to test a hypothesis, right?" You hoped he would understand.

And oh boy, did he understand. In two large steps, he was in front of you, taking your face in his hands. God, his hands. They were calloused but gentle and they tangled in your hair and left a searing heat on the back of your neck and--

Fuck. You hadn't even realized your eyes were closed until Marcus spoke. His lips were so close to yours, you could almost taste him, but he wasn't kissing you. Why wasn't he kissing you?

"We should go inside," he whispered. His voice was suddenly raspier than it had been all evening, and though it was more of a suggestion than a request, you moved obediently, stepping backward as he moved forward, guiding you into the apartment. He slammed the door shut with his foot, hands still behind your head, and then finally, god damn it, finally, he kissed you.

His lips were decadently soft. At first, Marcus was gentle, easing you into an eternal kiss. But you wanted more. You wanted to be closer. Your fingers found the belt loops on the waistband of his jeans and you tugged his hips toward yours. He got the message loud and clear.

His lips began to move against yours, hot and needy, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasped for air. One hand left your hair to wrap around your waist, his fingers curling under the fabric of your shirt to lay flat against the skin of your back. They slid up the curve of your spine to the clasp of your bra and suddenly you felt the snap of elastic release against your skin. Had he just undone your bra one-handed? You didn't even have your shirt off and already he was unraveling you with his fingers.

There was too much fabric between you two. Marcus hadn't even taken off his leather jacket yet. You reached up to his shoulders, ready to slide it off for him when suddenly he pulled away and grabbed your hands. You looked up at him confused, wondering if maybe he wasn't ready for this yet.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

Marcus was breathing heavy, eyes dark with lust. "You wanted someone mature, right? You want mature sex?"

The force behind his words sent your insides tumbling. All you could do was nod, hands still unable to move, imprisoned by his own.

"Okay," he said, his voice deep and husky. "Stop me if you're uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Again, you nodded.

"You're allowed to speak," Marcus teased. "But you need to do as I say."

Oh, fuck. A heat was building between your thighs. What had you gotten yourself into? Slowly, Marcus released your hands from his grip. He took his leather jacket off, himself, and then took a step back, instructing you through your next movements.

"Take off your shirt," Marcus said. His words were soft yet commanding.

Marcus watched as you pulled your shirt over your head. Your bra, which was already undone, went along with it. The air of your apartment wasn't particularly cold, but the shock of sudden exposure left goosebumps on your burning hot skin. You felt your nipples harden under his intense gaze but he didn't reach out to touch you.

"Turn around and take off your pants. Slowly."

He was enjoying himself too much. How had this sweet man, who had treated you so kindly and simply craved the presence of another human, turned so hot and rugged, wanting to tease you with the pain of slowing down. He knew you wanted nothing more than to touch him. And yet he made you wait and watched as you squirmed under his command.

And however painful it was, you did as you were told, unbuttoning your pants, hooking your thumbs into the waistband, and pulling them down slowly, slowly, slowly. You weren't sure if it was what he wanted, but you dragged your underwear down with them, fully revealing the curve of your hips and the contour of your ass. You leaned forward to push your pants down your thighs and past your knees, giving Marcus a full view of your now wet and throbbing pussy, and you heard the audible intake of a breath behind you.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he said. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart somehow beat faster than it already was. But it was nice to know you were having as much of an effect on him as he was on you.

Now fully naked, you stood, still turned away from him, unsure of what his next move might be. Without your attention on him, you finally noticed how dark it was in your apartment. You hadn't even turned on any lights, hadn't even moved out of the entryway. The only light came from the open curtains of your living room window where a street lamp cast an orange glow across the couch.

Suddenly, the sound of a slap and a sharp sting spread across the left cheek of your ass and you gasped. Did he just slap you on the butt? Holy shit. The warm tingle spread through your body and you nearly trembled at the feeling. Hold it together. You couldn't fall apart so soon.

Despite the slap, Marcus still held back from touching you, leaving you feeling exposed, nearly whimpering from the desire to be touched. Finally, he placed his hands on your shoulders and slid them down to your wrists, leaving fire in their wake. With one wrist in each hand, he folded your arms behind your back and held them there. The movement forced you to arch your back, thrusting your chest and hips out. It seemed a calculated move to provide him with more access to every curve of your body.

You could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer, but it wasn't until he pressed his own body against your back that you noticed he was naked as well. With his free hand, he pulled your hair behind your ear to place hot, breathy kisses down your neck. Shivers ran down your spine and your legs trembled in desire. Your pussy was dripping with need, the moist heat beginning to drip down the inside of your thigh.

With all his teasing, a sudden thought popped into your head. You had to ask. He had said you could speak, right?

"Marcus?" You asked. He grunted in response, not moving his mouth from your neck but affirming that he was listening. It was getting hard to talk, but you continued anyway. "Do you- do you have super senses as well? Like hearing?"

"Baby, I can hear you breathe from a mile away."

Interesting. "So, what if I do this?" You turned your head toward his, still at your neck, placing your lips at his ear, and moaned softly. The hand gripping your arms tightened and a deep groan was thrust from Marcus's lips, sending his hot breath across your shoulder.

"You're teasing me now? Don't worry, for that little stunt I'll have you screaming so loud you won't need super senses to hear you from a mile away." Now it was your turn to groan in frustration. You strained against your captive arms, wanting to get at the man pressed behind you, but he was far too strong. At least he was finally touching you. His free hand slid across your stomach and up to your breasts, pinching and twisting each of your nipples until they were aching and tender. The moans he elicited from your mouth were no longer simply to tease; the pleasure was too much to contain. Suddenly, his fingers left your nipples and slid slowly south. You shook with anticipation as he crept towards the heat between your thighs. Gently, one finger teased the crease of your slit, working gradually toward the mound of your clit.

"Spread your legs," Marcus whispered into your ear. As soon as you did what you were told, his finger landed directly on your clit and you nearly jumped at the sensation. You wanted desperately to grab onto him, hold his hand in place, but you could do nothing more than moan in ecstasy as he worked lazily between your thighs. You were sure you could cum soon if he kept going, except he didn't. Marcus stopped, pulling his hand away, leaving you trembling and begging for more.

With a palm placed on the small of your back, he guided you forward, and you stumbled until you reached the couch. You thought he might sit you down, but instead, Marcus leaned you across the couch arm, face in the cushions, ass in the air. You still had no control over your arms, so you could do little about your situation.

"You want me to fuck you, baby?" You could feel Marcus pressed against your ass, his legs between yours, spreading them wider, his cock hard and ready. He was so close, so close to being inside you, and yet he wanted to tease you a bit longer. When your reply came only as a soft whimper from your lips, he leaned over you and ran a finger down your spine. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes, Marcus. Yes, fuck me please."

"Not yet."

Not yet? What did he mean not yet? You wanted to cry at how desperately you needed him inside you. Instead of giving you what you wanted, you suddenly felt his hot tongue dragging up your thigh. He moaned against your trembling skin, licking away the dripping heat that had spilled from your pussy. Slowly, he made his way to your core, taking his time to clean the inside of both of your thighs.

"Baby, you taste so good. You're such a good girl, all nice and wet for me." Good girl. Fuck. It felt so incredibly amazing, but it wasn't what you wanted, what you needed. You couldn't help yourself; you began to beg, beg for him to fuck you like he meant it, beg for him to bury himself inside you. He ignored your pleas and instead spread your pussy lips with his tongue, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst, holding your arms in place as you squirmed beneath him.

"That's it, baby girl, grind against my face." You didn't need to be told twice. The sensation was bringing you to the edge. The scruff on his face tickled against your thighs and you wanted desperately to clamp your legs down on his head, tip over the edge, and feel the release of your orgasm. But Marcus wouldn't let you. He held your legs open and continued his rampage as your gasps of pleasure escalated to moans.

"Marcus I- I'm gonna cum," you managed to say. But as soon as your words left your lips, you regretted them. Marcus pulled away, leaving your open and cold and teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You groaned in frustration again. "Please, Marcus, make me cum, I need to cum."

"I love hearing you beg," he said, placing kisses across your shoulder blades and down your back. You could feel him center his hips at your entrance, the tip of his cock just barely nudging into you. You tried to grind your hips against his, needing that sweet relief, but he held you in place with one hand. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He pulled back and then slammed into you, and you did. You screamed his name over and over, with every thrust, every time he hit your g-spot, every time he grunted and groaned with his own pleasure. You tried to press your face into the couch to mute the sound but he wouldn't let you, grabbing your hair in his free hand and pulling your head slightly back, so he could hear every delicious sound that fell from your lips. Your arms were still pinned behind your back, but it made the angle all the better. It wasn't long before his thrusts were pulling you back toward the edge, your walls clenching around his shaft. He felt the shift, felt your orgasm build in your core as he fucked you hard.

"Cum for me baby," he growled. "Be a good girl and cum, now." With his words and one final thrust, you did, shattering into a million pieces with the force of the orgasm that rocked your body. You screamed until your lungs gave out, until you could barely breathe. Though you hadn't been holding yourself up much, you fully collapsed now, the strength in your body gone. Marcus was still holding out, teetering on the edge as well but wanting to ride out every drop of your orgasm until nothing remained.

"Tell me where you want me to cum," he growled through his teeth, unable to hold on much longer.

You wanted him to cum inside you; you wanted to feel him drip out of you all night. So you told him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Marcus, cum inside me, please," you begged. He did love when you begged, after all.

He cursed your name and then came inside you, thrusting his hot seed deep in your cunt and filling you up. He collapsed on top of you, finally releasing your arms, needing both of his to hold himself above you. His throbbing cock remained inside you as he leaned over you and kissed your back, whispering your name in sweet euphoria. The two of you remained like that, warm bodies piled atop one another, for several minutes, heaving in and out to catch your breath.

Finally, he pulled out and stood, helping you up as well so you could sit on the arm of the couch he'd just fucked you over.

You realized that this was the first time you were actually seeing Marcus naked. He had taken you from behind the whole time, but now, you were finally able to place your hands on his smooth chest and wrap your legs around his waist. You pulled him into a kiss and then leaned back, falling backward onto the couch and taking him down with you. In this position, Marcus laid his head on your chest, easing deep into your arms as you stayed wrapped around him. It was a perfect feeling, fulfilling the skin-to-skin contact you knew you both desperately needed. For a moment, you were both quiet, listening to the steady rhythm of one another's breath. Marcus was the first to break the silence.

"So, was your hypothesis correct?"

You laughed. "So far, the evidence is compelling. I may need to conduct some more testing to know for sure, though."

"I think we can arrange that," he said with a smile.

#reader #xreader #marcus moreno #we could be heroes #marcus moreno smut #pedro pascal

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

A Nightmare In A Dream (Part 2)

Summary: Six months after reuniting with the Winchesters and her brother, things are going good for the reader. She and Dean are happily together and occasionally stay with her brother, Matty, and Sam, who has been getting him used to normal life. Life appears to be heading in a good direction when the past has a way of creeping up again and dropping a bombshell on them all...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Square: AU!Dean

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: mature (language, angst, death/murder, drugging/kidnapping, family drama)

A/N #1: This is a spin off of A Dream In A Nightmare and takes place ~6 months later. It’s recommended that fic is read prior to this one...

_____

Four Hours Later

“What exactly are you doing here?” asked Dean when you walked in the front door at your house in town. He barely lifted his head up from the dining room table where he had his computer out.

“Helping find Smith and potentially Lewis.”

You left your one bag by the door, the other going on top of the table across from him.

“I think a better idea would be for you to go stay with Matty where it’s safe,” he said.

“Do you not trust me?” you asked. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. “I asked if-”

“I love you,” he said, pulling his hands away and looking over at you. “I love you, you fucking dumbass. The past six months have been the best damn six months of my life. I feel happy. I am happy. I don’t feel like a monster or a psycho anymore. Some days I feel like maybe I’m not even the bad guy. But I am the bad guy, sweetheart. You killed to keep your brother alive. I did it because it was the only control I could have in my life. It seemed like the only way I could stop the bad guys out there. Now I’m one of them. You deserve better than life with a monster.”

“Dean,” you said, sighing and taking a deep breath. You walked into the kitchen and sat up on the countertop, gripping the edge as he walked over and leaned back against the island across from you. “I killed eight innocent people. I did that for my brother. You kill bad people. Not counting Lewis, I apparently have only killed eight innocent people. I’m the monster, not you. I have zero justification for what I did and I don’t want it. Don’t try and push me away saying all that crap. I’m the bad guy, Dean. I am exactly the kind of person that belongs on your list.”

“He forced you,” said Dean.

“I had a choice. I picked Matty every time. Even when I wasn’t sure if he was alive, I kept...just in case. It was always a choice, Dean.”

“You were a twelve year old girl. You had no choice. Even as an adult, you had no choice.”

“Yes, I did. I grew up. I got bigger. I could have said no a long time ago but I didn’t.”

“You were alone and terrified and Lewis had you right where he wanted you. I was that kid too,” said Dean. A beat went by before he took a step in front of you and grabbed your hand. “I want you to go because I love you. I don’t want him to hurt you anymore.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you,” you said. He cocked his head and rested his forehead on your own. “I threw a knife at his neck and he didn’t go down. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“We’re not going to get far if we keep hating ourselves,” he said.

“You gotta promise me if he ever got a hold of me, you forget about me. You take care of my brother and you just forget about me,” you said.

“I’m never forgetting the woman who saved me, saved my family,” he said. “Matty’s somewhere safe?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “Can we do this together?”

“Normally works out better when we do,” he said, smiling for a brief moment. “Two weeks ago we were talking about the rest of our lives and what that meant for us. I want to make those things happen. I never want our family to be afraid of something like this happening again.”

“Then let’s get this guy and get Lewis if he’s out there and do those things. I want to go back to having backyard barbecues and turning our bedroom into a pillow fort and being us. I want us to move on for once and for all,” you said.

“Say we do get James Smith and Lewis. After that...what I do...do you want me to stop?” he asked. “Stop killing.”

“I want you to do it if you want to. If you want to stop, you stop. I’m not telling you what to do one way or the other, De. When it’s all over, I only want you to be happy, Dean. That’s all I want for you.”

“If I said I liked it...liked helping people...would you be angry?” he asked. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean shifting closer.

“Do you remember my cousin? I introduced you to her last month at your company party,” you said.

“Yeah. She came with Brix. He’s in construction sector. He just made manager for second shift electrical I think,” he said.

“You own a billion dollar corporation with 300 employees and you know the facilities manager,” you said with a smile.

“Memorizing 300 names and faces is a lot easier than plotting a murder,” he said. “I remember her. Why?”

“Because you saved her life if you can remember. You saved mine,” you said. “He was a horrible person and my Uncle hurt her. She was a shell before. Now, now she goes to nursing school. She has a good and nice boyfriend. She smiles. She’s living again. You might kill. But you save just as much, if not more. If you want to keep saving people, I’ll be okay with that. Always,” you said. “Maybe you can take some breaks in there but I’ll never make you stop being you.”

“You’re not supposed to fall in love with the monster,” he said.

“I didn’t. I fell in love with you,” you said. “You saved my brother just as much as I did. You’ll never convince me you’re not the good guy so stop trying, babe.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder, giving you a big hug in return.

“Probably still be eating out seven nights a week,” you said. He chuckled, a tiny shake escaping him. You ran your hand through his hair, the other tracing up and down his spine. “Go relax and take a bath. I know you haven’t been sleeping well the past week. Go on. I’ll keep you safe. We’ll order some food for a late dinner when you’re all done.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Okay,” you said. You gave him a kiss and he went upstairs, the bedroom door shutting quietly in the distance. After a beat, you hopped off the counter and went to the fridge, pouring a drink and turning your attention to Dean’s computer. “Alright. What have you come up with so far…”

You took a seat and started poking around, Dean not finding anything new out on James Smith it seemed. All the data you had pointed to him living in a home on the north side of town in a quiet suburb. Houses far apart. Lots of land. Gated driveways.

If he lived there, he certainly had enough money to get Lewis the medical attention he would have needed without anyone ever knowing.

“What are you-” you said to yourself before you heard a bang upstairs, Dean shooting down the landing in nothing more than a towel.

“Move. Now,” he said as he headed for the front door. You grabbed the computer and your bag, Dean picking his up from earlier and rushing outside with you. “I see this time, I don’t get yelled at for leaving my crap by the door.”

“Who is there?” you asked, grabbing your keys and running around to the other side of your car, tossing your clothes in the back. You got behind the wheel and Dean slid inside, taking a deep breath. You took off and he looked back out the window at the house. “Dean.”

“House isn’t safe,” he said, holding up a small white card. “It was taped to the bathroom mirror. It was not there when I got in that tub. I shut my eyes for a minute max and when I opened them, there it is. It says welcome home.”

“Fuck,” you said, squeezing the wheel. You drove out of your neighborhood and into where you normally did your errands.

“Pull into a parking lot,” he said. You found a nearly empty one, the sun down by that time of night. You rested your head on the wheel but felt him staring at you. You lifted it and looked down to see a knife in his other hand. “You leave it under the seat in case of emergencies.”

“If you have something to say, then say it,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. He grabbed your wrist and held up the knife.

And put it in your palm, shrugging you off.

“If you think I suspect you, come right out and say it,” he said.

“Yeah, for a second it crossed my mind,” you said. “What the hell are you doing looking at me like that for? Or was everything we just said in the kitchen bullshit?”

“Oh come on. I-Gas, gas, gas!” he said, his eyes getting bigger. You hit the pedal and the car lurched forward, Dean grabbing the wheel as you cut out through the lot. In your rearview you saw a pickup speed right through where you’d been parked.

“You were watching that truck, not me,” you said, getting a hold of the wheel and getting back on the road.

“Yeah. I was trying not to make it obvious,” he said. You handed the knife back to him, Dean wiping his hand over his face. “That was a fully loaded vehicle. Expensive.”

“James Smith?” you asked.

“The Wilson’s,” said Dean to himself. “The Wilson’s are on vacation and that truck has been parked in their driveway next door all week. Shit.”

“Dean. I think Smith knows we’re on to him,” you said, catching headlights far back in the distance.

“He did it on purpose,” said Dean, looking in the rearview mirror. “He wanted us to find him. He wanted it, Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because,” said Dean, reaching into the back and grabbing his bag. “Because...oh thank you, thank you my spare running sneakers are back here.”

“The only reason they’re back there is cause you didn’t bother to get them after that make out session,” you said.

“You know I’m learning from all this that my lazy side is coming really in handy,” he said. “Don’t crash us.”

“Don’t what...and you’re climbing in the back as I drive away from someone who very likely wants to kill us,” you said, Dean managing to fling himself back there with only one swerve. Three minutes later he was back in the front seat and in clothes and his sneakers, rifling through your bags for anything to use as a weapon. “You were saying about Smith before, him wanting us to find him.”

“Yeah,” he said, setting the knife in the cupholder for the moment. “Dammit, it’s all we got. If it gets dicey, you take it.”

“Alright,” you said, plowing through a red light, the truck still following after. “What’s he want?”

“You know how when you want to kill someone, you lead them into a trap but they don’t even know until it’s too late? They thought all the decisions they made were there own so they didn’t suspect a thing?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“I have a bad feeling we fell for the trap,” he said.

“It’s one against two,” you said as you sped out of town.

“I guarantee he has a gun,” said Dean.

“I could drive to the police station?” you said.

“We’re on the wrong side of town and he knows it,” said Dean, looking back again. “How much gas you got?”

“About half a tank,” you said. “Maybe five, six gallons.”

“Okay. We have some time to figure this out,” he said.

“Dean, I gotta cut back in towards town. If we can make it to your office building, you have security guards there. Guys with guns. We drive up, run inside, say it’s a guy with road rage after us,” you said.

“Okay. I like that plan,” he said. “I mean, I don’t. We’re gonna lose every lead we got on the guy the second we do that but it’s preferable to being dead. You gotta make this left up here.”

“There isn’t a left,” you said. “We’re on a boulevard. With a median.”

“There’s a gap right up there,” he said as he pointed.

“Dean, that’s not a turn! It’s broken guardrail.”

“Today, it’s a turn.”

“Cars are driving the opposite way, Dean. I’m not driving head on into traffic,” you said.

“Y/N. It’s coming up. Don’t worry about the cars. Just go,” he said.

“Oh fuck,” you said. You waited as long as you could before you turned left through the gap. “Uh. Dean.”

He threw it in reverse and suddenly the traffic right in front of you was backing off, Dean holding onto the wheel too. He turned it slightly before he threw it back into drive to get you going the right way, the pickup on the other side going past.

“Now let’s lose him before he catches up again,” said Dean. You took off down a side street and made your way in through a neighborhood back there. “I think we finally lost him.”

“What if he put a tracker on the car?” you asked. You got your answer when you saw the truck in the rearview again. “I fucking hate this guy.”

“At least we can go in the right direction now,” said Dean. You drove straight for awhile when suddenly another pickup truck pulled up and blocked the way forward. You took a right down a street and found yourself on a cul de sac with a lone house settled back. “Y/N. What neighborhood are we in?”

“Maple Grove,” you breathed out, looking in the rearview, spotting the two pickups park and block off the exit. “We’re in Smith’s neighborhood.”

“That’s his house,” said Dean, nodding to the home outside the car. “He knew exactly what we would do.”

“To be fair, the car is bugged so not entirely your own fault,” said Lewis over what sounded like a radio. Dean threw his head back and slammed his hand against the dash. “You guys sound like you missed me. Y/N. You did so good for me, kiddo. I know it’s been a long six months but you did such a good job.”

“Dean…” you said, watching him shake his head at you.

“No,” he said. “No. Not you.”

“Dean, he’s lying,” you said.

“If she stabbed me in the neck, I’d be dead,” said Lewis. “The body double was difficult but we figured it out, didn’t we?”

“No,” said Dean. You reached over but he grabbed the knife and pointed it at you. “Don’t...why? You already had me. Why let me escape?”

“You never escaped kid,” said Lewis. “You just thought you did. I never wanted your brother. I wanted you. Now you understand. You will never escape. You haven’t been free since the day I told you I’d break you.”

“You didn’t…” said Dean, staring at you, looking all kinds of panicked. “You said you wanted to have a family! We were gonna get married and have kids and I was gonna get Matty a job and he could…”

“Dean, Lewis is lying. I love you, honey, I love you. I would never betray you,” you said.

“Or would she? She’s done it before. She still playing her game? She likes playing games with her toys. You’ve always been a fun one of hers,” said Lewis.

Dean took a deep breath, his face wet as he glared at you.

“Get out of the car, Dean. I won’t throw you in a cellar this time. You do as I say and we can all get along peacefully,” said Lewis.

“Why?” said Dean, sniffling but not bothering to wipe off his face. “Why her?”

“To prove a point. No one could ever love you apart from me. Now get out of the car,” he said.

“Dean, don’t,” you said. He stared at the knife and then at you, some blankness to his eyes. He put the knife down and got out of the car. He got a shove to the ground and you got out, Dean not even putting up a fight. “Hey! Stay-”

“That’s enough,” said Lewis right behind you, the sharp tip of a blade resting against your lower back. “Look at him. You broke him real good.”

The other man in the mask hoisted Dean up after he secured his hands and threw a hood on him, leading him blindly over to the house. Lewis didn’t move with you and you weren’t sure if he was deciding to kill you there or inside.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I’m alive?” he said.

“Obviously you have a partner I never knew about,” you said. “He’s going to wise up. He’s going to realize you’re lying about me and he will escape.”

“Why do you think you’re here? What’s a better incentive to behave than a little brother? The love of his life,” chuckled Lewis. “Congratulations. You’ve gone from star pupil to permanent resident.”

“How exactly do you expect to keep me in line?” you said, Lewis grabbing your arm and walking the two of you over to the driveway.

“I had no problem hurting him as a boy. What do you think I’ll do when he’s a man?” said Lewis.

“You won’t kill him. It’s everything you’ve worked for,” you said.

“You’re correct there. But I can still do irreversible damage. I don’t want to break him completely but if I have to in order to get you to behave, I will,” he said.

“You don’t hurt people you love,” you said, walking down the incline. He shoved you down and gave your ribs a kick, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“Get used to it,” he said. He grabbed your arm and hoisted you up, dragging you into the house. “I hope you enjoyed the fresh air. It’s the last you’re getting.”

He pushed you into a very nice foyer and a stronger grip grabbed you this time, the other man in the mask taking you away down a hall. You went through a pair of doors into a home library, the man holding you pinning your arms behind your back. There was an open space behind what looked like where a bookcase belonged. You caught sight of panel on the wall before you stepped into windowless room.

“Get off of me!” you shouted, trying to get away even if your ribs were killing you. The man led you over to a plain bed on the ground, a little hook in the wall with a metal cable running around the edge of the room. A pair of soft padded cuffs went around your wrists, the guy kneeling right on your newly forming bruise punching the air out of your lungs. When he got up, your arms were behind you but you had enough of a tether to move and get on the bed.

He pulled out a strip of cloth from his back pocket and you groaned.

“Dean has money. We have so much money. We can pay you whatever you want. Just let us-”

“You can shut up now,” said the man, tying the gag over your mouth. Something sounded familiar about it though. He sat back on his heels and pulled off his mask, your eyes wide. “You did what you had to in order to survive. I get that. I did what I had to too. You live with that guy that long...you can’t help going a little coocoo for cocoa puffs. You know what I mean?”

You stared at him and he pulled down your gag before tightening it uncomfortably around your neck.

“That too snug, little sis?” he asked with a dark smile.

“Dylan,” you whispered, the fabric making your throat already hurt. “He said...we heard the gun...”

“Lewis gave us options. You didn’t like the options. So while you got to live out and about in the real world, I got broken.”

“He said you were dead,” you said.

“Dylan Y/L/N died a long time ago so yeah, I guess he was right. I’m not your brother anymore. I’m his,” he said.

“No, you’re not. He manipulated you. He hurt you to get what he wanted. He doesn’t care about you. He wants Dean and now he’s got him. He doesn’t-”

You stopped talking when he grabbed your neck, giving it a squeeze.

“You abandoned me. You picked Matty over me. Don’t worry, I’ll find him too and then I’ll bring him back here and then you’re gonna learn what it feels like to be broken,” he said.

“I didn’t-” you coughed out, Lewis grunting in the doorway. Dylan let go of you as you heaved, getting some air back in your body.

“I told you, she has value right now,” said Lewis.

“I ain’t gonna kill her,” he said as he stood. “Not until she asks me to.”

“Never happening,” you said, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Your brother is very persuasive,” said Lewis. “Clean up the cars, Dylan, and then we can have our first dinner with Dean.”

You glared at him, Lewis raising an eyebrow.

“You weren’t hungry, were you?” he said with a smirk. They both left and the metal back of a bookcase slide over the entrance, sending you into darkness. A bright light turned on overhead and you winced, taking in your surroundings. There wasn’t much aside from the mattress and a toilet sink looking thing in the corner and a showerhead and drain in the one nearby.

“Sammy, come find your brother before it’s too late,” you said to yourself. “Please come find him.”

Four Hours Later

It had to have been around two in the morning when Dylan came inside the room. You wearily lifted your head as he undid the tie around your neck.

“Is this where you tell me you were pretending?” you asked. He sat back on his heels and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. I knew that was too much to hope for.”

“Lewis said I can train you,” he said.

“Train me to do what?” you sighed.

“Be part of the family,” he said. He took a knife out of his back pocket and flicked it open. “Sort of intense. I don’t guarantee you won’t be a whimpering shell when you come out on the other side of it.”

“You were my big brother you know,” you said as he put the knife against your back.

“So?”

“So why did a twelve year old girl have to save her big strong eighteen year old brother? You should have saved me. You should have saved me and Matty,” you said. He stared at you and you scowled. “We were children. You weren’t.”

“Lewis is my father. He-”

“No, Dylan, he’s not. Our real dad and our real mom were killed, in front of us. All I wanted, all I was counting on, was you getting out and saving us. He took you out to the back of that barn and shot and we thought you...you owe me an explanation of how the fuck you’re alive,” you said.

“I don’t owe you anything,” he spat back, slicing into your back.

“Yes you do!” you shouted. He did it again and you grunted. “Did he say he’d let you go if you pretended? Say you could go back home if he got us? What’d he say, Dylan? What did-”

“He said he’d let you two go!” he shouted, getting right in your face. He was panting, his brow scrunched up. “So I shut my mouth and listened to you two cry and then I heard him take you both away. But he came back too soon before I could get out and then he had me. He told me the truth, told me Matty was someplace with him, you were free but you were going to start learning real soon. You were kids. You were afraid. He could manipulate you two. I was too old. I was too big. I was the one that got hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and everytime one of you two did something right, I got hurt for it. You’re the reason I broke bones and-”

“You know he manipulated you,” you said, Dylan leaning back. “But you don’t even care. You’re still on his side. Why?”

“Because he is very good at breaking people once there’s a crack. Dean has cracks, Y/N. He’s not fought back once. He’s not talked back once. He’s going to fall apart and then Lewis will put him back together exactly how he wants him and Dean won’t even know what hit him.”

“You know what hit you,” you said.

“Don’t be cute,” he said. He dug the tip of the knife into your shoulder blade for a split second, just long enough before he pulled back and moved away. He went over to the entrance and you turned towards him.

“If you want to hate us, that’s your choice. But you remember what mom said? The last thing she ever said? Take care of them. She said that to you.”

“I did. But now I’m just angry,” he said. “If I have opportunity to kill you, I will. Matty too.”

“Then I guess that settles that,” you said, leaning over onto the mattress. “Dylan.”

“What,” he said.

“Hurt my little brother and I’ll stab you in the neck too,” you said. He blinked a few times before shaking his head. “I’m not joking.”

“I know. Which is why if you think you hate me now, wait until you see once he’s here.”

He left after that and you rolled onto your stomach, trying to stretch out your arms and alleviate the pain your back.

If you could just get to Dean, you knew you could get through to him.

Getting there was going to be a problem though.

The Next Evening

“I heard you asked to speak to me,” said Lewis. You sat with your hands in your lap, glancing up at him. “You were good today so you can have a rest on those shoulders. Out with whatever you want, I have dinner soon.”

“Dylan wants to hurt my brother Matty. I also know that he’s so fucked up that if you told him to stay away from our little brother, he would. So I propose a compromise,” you said.

“You’re up to something,” he said, crossing his arms. “Continue.”

“You want Dean to break. I bet the shock is wearing off and he’s starting to have doubts about me turning on him,” you said.

“Always were intelligent,” said Lewis with a quick smile. “It was always going to happen. I’m prepared for that.”

“But it’d make your life easier if he thought it was true.”

“That’s correct,” he said. You took a deep breath and threw your head back, closing your eyes. “You want me to tell Dylan that Matty’s off limits and if I do, you’ll say whatever I want to Dean, won’t you.”

“I became a killer for him. I think I can pull off a little acting,” you said.

“Would you hurt, Dean? Do it with a smile?”

“Lewis. Think of all the shit I’ve already done with a smile for you. This would be a breeze compared to some of that,” you said.

“But you love him.”

“Yes, I do. But I love my brother more. I’ve sacrificed everything for him. I will sacrifice this too,” you said.

“I’m not letting you go,” he said.

“I didn’t ask for that. You know what I want. Matty is out of this, for good. If you can agree to that and call off, Dylan, I will do and say whatever you want to Dean.”

“Are you starting to understand why I said you’d be useful?” he smirked. “I always knew this would come up. I always knew where your loyalties would fall.”

“Do we have a deal?” you asked, holding up a hand as far as it would go.

“Yes,” he said, shaking it briefly. “You will get some fresh clothes to change into. Try to look nice for when you see him, hm?”

“Whatever you say, Lewis.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #serial killer!dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean reader insert #dean x #dean winchester x you #au

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wizardessheart-sideb · 3 years

Text

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said nonchalantly, as if we were in town and not in a forest on a hard to reach peninsula. For a moment, I wondered if I was hallucinating. But no, Zett was really here, right in front of me.

“What are you doing here?!” I demanded. “You’re not a student, are you?”

“No, I’m here doing some freelance security,” he replied. He looked weirdly proud of himself, smirking and folding his arms against his puffed-up chest.

“‘Freelance security?’” I wanted to sigh. What was he doing now? This was seriously the weirdest dude I’d ever met.

“Yeah. I’m just making sure the Academy’s secure so no weirdos get in,” he told me.

“Well, you already failed. You’re here.” I couldn’t stop myself from letting the words slip out of my mouth. But instead of getting mad, he just grinned at me.

“Oh, I’m allowed here,” he said. I really doubt it, I wanted to say, but pissing off a guy in the middle of the forest seemed like a really bad idea. “All right, I make sure my secret entrance is secure, but really, I watch out for creeps,” he added with a shrug.

“Is that a problem?” I asked. All right. I could bite for a moment.

“Well, yeah. You got a private school full of privileged rich kids and a lot of them either come from real old money or their parents are celebrities. And also, you know the kind of parents that send their kids to private school,” he said with accusatory eyes and a bitter note in his voice. I wouldn’t lie, that stung a bit.

“No, I wouldn’t, actually. I was home-schooled until now, and I’m an orphan” I told him. I wanted to add, “Are you happy now?” but the smirk slid off his face in an instant and there was something… strange in his eyes. Was that worry?

“Shit, are you also a part of that whack job cult – I mean, are you a part of Kristina’s church?” Zett quickly caught himself. I raised an eyebrow.

“Kristina? The waitress?” I searched my mind for the night we met. She had a brother here, doesn’t she? I don’t think I’ve met him. “Uh, no, I don’t know Kristina or her brother at all.” Zett’s body relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Geez, you scared me. I was worried you were a part of their cult or something. Zacharias – her twin – was home-schooled too until a year ago. It’s kind of their thing.” He straightened up, that cocky grin returned to his face. “Well, I’m glad you’re not getting religious trauma.”

“… Thank you?” What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Like, I guess I’m glad, too? “But really. Why and how are you here? Don’t you need an Academy emblem to get in?” I asked. When in doubt, change the subject.

“I got a fake. It works just fine and I’m free to come and go as I please.”

“To do your ‘freelance security?’”

“That and bring people things they need.”

...

“Wait… you’re an errand boy?!”

“Sometimes. For my good friends. And you, if you want to hire me,” he added with a wink.

“So you just avoided my question for like, five minutes to avoid telling me you’re just an errand boy?” What was up with this guy? I didn’t know whether to laugh or be irritated.

“You know I like my secrets,” he said. “But seriously, what are youdoing out here looking for a lantern?”

“I’m being hazed,” I replied. That wiped the grin off his face. “What’s with the seriousness?” I asked as he started walking deeper into the forest. Not knowing what to do, I followed him. As we walked, he rummaged through his bag and brought out

“I know what you’re looking for. I helped design it,” he told me. “When you find it, don’t touch it. If you do, it’ll start projecting ghosts and shit.”

“I, uh… Thank you? But why are you helping me?” I inquired.

“Why not?” he replied. There was a moment of silence and he turned back to me, shrugging. “You look like you’re in a bad mood. I doubt you wanna deal with the lantern.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” I kept my eyes peeled for the lantern or any kind of animal I can ask. Zett and I were silent as we walked through the forest. I tried to stay on my guard too, just in case. I really should invest in pepper spray or a knife.

We turned a corner on the trail and I spotted an owl on a branch, looking regal as it surveyed its surroundings. Yay! Now I canget to work.

“Excuse me, Mr. Owl,” I called out, approaching the bird. It looked down at me. “Hi, I’m looking for a lantern. It looks like a golden sphere. Have you seen anything like that around here?”

“I don’t know what it looked like, but I did see something glowing over yonder.” The owl stretched his wing off the trail, towards a large oak tree.

“Great! Thank you so much!” Carefully, I stepped over some bushes and went off the path.

“Uh, what was that?” Zett hurried after me, gracefully stepping over the bushes and getting to me in no time. Huh. I wouldn’t have thought he could move so elegantly, but here we were.

“I can speak to animals. I figured they’d know where the lantern is. Or at least, they’d have a clue,” I told him.

“Impressive.” Again, a silence fell between us as we made our way towards the big tree.

“So, who are you doing errands for? Or is that confidential?” I added teasingly. He laughed.

“Maybe.” He flashed me a grin. “Nah, I can tell you. My best friend Isabelle asked me to get her a makeup collection that released earlier today, so I’m going to go give it to her.”

“Isabelle? Super short, purple hair?” I asked.

“You know her?”

“Yeah, I met her earlier,” I said. It was probably for the best I didn’t mention we lived in the same suite. “Do you know everyone in the Night Class?”

“Mm, probably not. But I know a lot of them.” We reached the large oak tree. From behind it, there was a faint, golden glow. I hurried towards it. “Hey, remember not to touch it!” Zett called after me. I peeked around the tree and sure enough, there it was, casting star-shaped rays of light onto the ground. Honestly, it was a very pretty lantern. Maybe Zett could make me a real lantern that looked like this. And speak of the devil, he walked right on by me, getting of his knees and fishing what looked like a screwdriver out of his back pocket. He carefully stuck it into the lantern and after fiddling with it for a few seconds, the lantern flickered and smoke poured out of the holes. The acrid stench made me cough, but soon the thick black smoke turned to gray wisps. Zett picked it up and handed it to me.

“There you go. It should be safe now,” he said. I couldn’t see anything written on his face that would tell me if he was lying or not. He seemed to be telling the truth. Not to mention this looked broken now. Tentatively, I grabbed it and held onto it tight. It was still pretty warm and nothing happened.

“Thanks again for helping me,” I told him.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t know what’s up with you, but I hope you feel better. Really.” He paused. “When you give that back to whoever, tell them it was smoking when you found it and you had to douse it with water, all right? Don’t tell them I was here.”

“Okay…” And again, with the shady stuff. “Uh, I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. You ever need me, tell Isabelle and she’ll call me. I’ll see you later, baby.” It was good he left because otherwise I would have hit him. Geez. How was I going to handle him? If he ran errands for the other students, I was bound to run into him again. I didn’t mind him he was nice, but man, he was really capable of leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

I hurried back to the trail and back to Zeus. As soon as he realized the lantern was off, that gleeful smile on his face disappeared.

“What the hell?! Why isn’t the lantern lit?!” he demanded, storming over to me. He wrenched the lantern out of my hands.

“I found it because it was smoking. I couldn’t really figure out the mechanics, but I think something’s busted in it,” I lied.

“Damn it! I’m going to have to have my friend look at it,” he groaned. I wondered if he meant Zett. “Well… Good job, I guess.” There was a distinct bitter note in his voice.

“Cool, I’m going back to the dorms now.” I didn’t wait for an answer, heading back to the mausoleum and back to my room. As I neared our suite, I could smell something spicy and fragrant in the air. My nose twitched. I slipped into our suite and peeked into the kitchen. Dorian was stirring something in a large pot, Aika beside him slathering melted butter onto some rolls.

“That smells really good,” I commented. Aika flinched a little and the two turned back to face me. Dorian gave me a stern look and immediately my stomach dropped.

“Can you go tell Isabelle to get her ass in here? I told her dinner was ready ten minutes ago,” he demanded. I just nodded and hurried out of the room. Isabelle’s door was propped open just a smidgen and I poked my head in. Isabelle was on the floor, a huge cardboard box with an intricate pattern printed on it sitting in front of her. It was full of assorted makeup items. I knocked and she looked up.

“Come on in! You’re just in time! I just got this delivered!” she told me. I opened the door and ventured in a step.

“Dinner’s ready and Dorian doesn’t seem happy with you,” I told her quietly. She just laughed and stood up, leaving the box in place.

“Oh, Dorian’s always big mad,” she said. Together, we walked back to the kitchen. “So, how did the first day go?” Isabelle asked as she plucked a roll off a plate.

“It was fine. Hard, but fine,” I told her.

“How did Zeus’ dumbass hazing go?” Aika asked.

“How do you know about that?”

“Tsukasa came in here in a panic and told us about it,” Dorian replied. “He wanted us to do something about it.” And you didn’t? I made a mental note not to trust them in an emergency.

“Poor thing was hysterical. His heart’s too big for him,” Isabelle commented, taking a seat. I quickly got my own food and sat down across from her. “He’s too nice for the Night Class, if you ask me.”

“I don’t know, he’s pretty stubborn,”Aika commented.

“He and Fandamilia seem really nice,” I added. Isabelle’s lips pursed into a fine line. Dorian snorted.

“I wouldn’t mention her if I were you. Isabelle hates her,” he told me.

“What? Why?” Once again, words I shouldn’t have said slipped out. I really need to work on my filter.

“Because she likes Zeus and keeps trying to justify his shitty behavior,” Isabelle said tensely. “I just don’t think you should try and make excuses or ignore people’s shitty behavior.”

“I mean… Yeah…” Aika said, looking a little uncomfortable. “No one’s perfect and you can’t bleach red flags. Not acknowledging bad behavior isn’t great. … But she’s in love, you know? She just wants him to love her back.”

“Explains it, but it’s not an excuse,” Isabelle added.

“I’m stopping this before it becomes a fight,” Dorian spoke up. “We’re moving on.” I wondered if Isabelle excused the bad things Zett did. Or maybe she didn’t know about him being a weird and lowkey creepy flirt. But then again, he didn’t have to derail his job to go help me with the lantern. Speaking of, Isabelle had that makeup package, so he must’ve already come through here. Did he see my name on the nameplate next to my door? Did Isabelle mention me to him? Was I going to run into him again? Something told me that even if I wasn’t suitemates with Isabelle, I’d be seeing more of him.

#long post #zett #zett wizardess heart #wizardess heart fan route

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writingpaperghost · 3 years

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Ghost! It's a Game Against Doctor Pac-Man!

All's normal in the CR, until a new virus breaks out, this time taking the appearance of... Pac-Man? Joined by another Rider, known as Ghost, it's up to the CR to cure this disease. But Emu realizes he's met the so-called Dr. Pac-Man before. He was the one who separated him and his host! And who's Masamune's quiet assistant Mu?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33393685

For those working the video game company Gemn Corp, it seemed like it would be a perfectly normal, average day. At least, as normal as things had a tendency to be. Sure, their boss was coming up with increasingly weirder logic for fighting the sentient computer virus and technically they weren’t supposed to know about that, but it was kind of hard to miss. But the point was, it was a very normal day.

Masamune’s errand runner (no one knew what the guy’s actual job was, he just showed up one day, but errand runner seemed like an appropriate guess. He was nice to people, if a bit nervous, so no one really cared for the details. Not to mention he wasn’t even always there, some days they didn’t see him at all. Besides they all had more things to worry about than the fact that there was someone allowed to run around Gemn Corp for the single purpose, it seemed, of running the president’s errands.) had just returned to his office, most likely to see what his next task may be, if any. A very normal day.

At least, until it wasn’t.

Because what was not normal – or ever really expected – at a company that makes video games, is for a trio of people dressed suspiciously in white, one wielding a sword, though they all had guns, to show up. So like, that meant they were probably something like terrorists. Armed intruders none the less. Then, after they got rid of Gemn’s woefully underpaid – and probably dead now – security guards, this fourth guy comes in also dressed in white, but the kicker was his mask. His mask was of some kind of demonic Pac-Man.

The four intruders quickly make their way to where Masamune’s office is located, with the first three in the lead and the man in the Pac-Man mask behind them. They don’t waste any time and aren’t really intercepted. Most of those working at Gemn, security or otherwise, were far too scared to try to do that. And again, the security staff is probably underpaid.

Over in Masamune’s office, he’s already received a notification that the intruders are coming and is in the process of putting the Prototype Gashats into a briefcase, hoping to get away before the intruders arrived. Notably, two are missing, the Proto Mighty Action X and Proto Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashats. He has also put a Bug Visor in the briefcase.

“What’s happening?” At one side of the door, in the corner farthest from the door, stands Masamune’s errand runner. A young man with messy brown hair that covers one eye and an eyepatch over his eye, being about shoulder length. He wears a hoodie of the Mighty Action X character Mighty, and a Drago Knight Hunter Z shirt underneath. Beneath his shirt is an orange shirt with sleeves that go down to his hands, having thumb holes. With one eye, he watches Masamune.

“Just let it happen,” Is all Masamune answers.

Just as Masamune is about to leave, the first three of the four intruders enter, the one with the sword raising said sword at him. The two others aim their guns. The errand runner watches from the corner unnoticed.

The woman speaks first, “Masamune Dan, it’s been six years since we last saw each other,” There’s a venom in her voice that would scare a normal person, though Masamune seems unphased. “Hand over the Prototype Gashats and the Bugvisor.”

Masamune doesn’t answer, not until the last of the group enters. The man in the Pac-Man mask. Despite the mask, Masamune seemed to recognize him instantly, surprised. “You shouldn’t still exist,” He finally says.

“But I am quite alive,” The man in the Pac-Man mask says, “And I’d like to complete my research.” The briefcase is snatched out of Masamune’s grasp and opened.

One of the men say, “Two are missing,”

Innocently, Masamune raises his hands and says, “I don’t have them,” Which was a true statement. He didn’t have them, though he certainly knew who did.

The four intruders turn to leave, only for the police to finallyshow up. Of course, they seemed to have planned for something like this – or were really good at improvising. One of the men grabs the Proto Gekitotsu Robots Gashat, activating it and becoming a Bugster himself, allowing him to break down the police’s barricade. The other three members followed after his destruction.

Staring at the carnage, the errand boy walks up to Masamune, “Uh… What just happened?” He asked, then looks at Masamune, “Who… Who were those people?”

---

It was what Emu would very much consider a normal day. He’s just finished helping one of his patients learn how to play this mobile game that was getting really popular, Hatesate Puzzle, and now the boy was having a really fun time playing it.

“Thank you doctor!” The boy smiles at Emu. That was always Emu’s favorite part. Seeing his patient smile. Whether in pediatrics or in the CR. It made it feel like everything that had happened to get him to this point was worth it.

As he looks up sees Asuna rushing towards him, “Emu, we have a large amount of emergency calls!” She grabs his arm, “We need to get to the scene of the breakout!”

“Right!” He called, attempting to follow with her, only to trip. Asuna sighs and pulls him up, dragging him to the hospital.

Finally, he and Asuna arrive outside a high school, where everyone was running in panic. The shocking thing was what they were running from: a large amount of small Pac-Mans were trying to bite people. It seemed like if you got bit, you got infected. So it was definitely a Bugster, if a weird one.

The news can be heard, being played from somewhere. The news announces that the Ministry of health has issued a pandemic alert, that everyone should stay home. Emu checked one of the victims who had been bitten by a Pac-Man. On top of the clear glitching from a Game Disease infection, they also had a terrible fever.

Searching for where the Pac-Mans were all heading, because they all seemed to be looking for something or someone, Emu ran through the area. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, since all he knew was that these Pac-Mans were probably the result of Game Disease, given how they were infecting people. They were probably looking for something that would stress out their main host, but he had no way of knowing what or who that is.

He’s not sure what leads him the way he ends up, but after a few minutes of searching, he finally sees a trio of people who look like their looking for something. One wears some sort of hoodie with a kimono like print, accompanied by a woman and a monk. Emu wasn’t sure if he was concerned because they were there, or because they stood out so much.

While the man in the hoodie begins to pull something out of his pocket, Emu retrieves his Gashat. He needed to start trying to deal with these Pac-Man, especially since he seemed to be getting closer to wherever they were heading towards. Only, he realized what the man had pulled out. Some kind of belt and a round-ish object.

What the… “Hey! You need to get out of here!” Emu calls out, holding his Gashat tightly. He’s ready to transform when he gets the attention of the trio. Yet before either of them can do anything, the man get’s bit by one of the Pac-Mans. That’s bad.

Still, the man attempts to use his belt and sphere thing, only for them to, presumably, not do anything. Since the man seemed surprised. “What?” The man startles, “Why can’t I transform?”

“What?” The woman echoed.

Now having reached the trio, Emu comments, “It’s probably because Pac-Man bit you,” Though it seemed intentional that it did so. Emu had his hunch about why and just what that belt and object did. “You’re… a Kamen Rider, right?”

The man looked shocked, “How did you…?”

Grinning, Emu activates his Gashat, holding it up.

Mighty Action X!

Let’s game! Metcha game! Mucha game! What’s your name? I’m a Kamen Rider!

Reaching out and hitting his portrait on the select screen, Emu introduces himself, “Emu Hojo,” He says, “Kamen Rider Para-DX.”

Level up! Mighty jump! Mighty kick! Mighty-Mighty Action X!

His red and blue armor appears around him, his weapon in hand, in axe mode. He looks at the trio, “I’ll see what I can do about getting rid of the Pac-Mans. Hopefully it’ll restore your ability to transform.”

He didn’t know much about this trio, nor this Rider, but he didn’t really need to. Obviously, he wasn’t a part of the same game as Emu, but he was still a Rider. There was no reason that Emu shouldn’t help him.

Despite Emu’s best attempts at fighting the Pac-Mans, it was like he wasn’t even hitting them. His axe was obviously making contact with them, but they weren’t taking any damage or anything. It was terribly frustrating.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the other Rider running over to a boy on the ground, probably a high school student. As the other Rider tries to help the boy, Emu sees a pair of people dressed in white. One holds what looks like a Gashat, but Emu can’t see what. But he can hear it.

Taddle Quest!

Utilizing the Gashat in a way not unlike how Graphite had a few days earlier, the person transformed into a Bugster. Did that mean they were a Bugster anyway, or was that what happened if someone just tried to use a Prototype Gashat without a Gamer Driver?

Rushing over to the other Rider and the boy, Emu intercepts the Bugster, slashing it with his axe, “You guys, get out of here with the boy!” He calls, then dodges out of the way of the Bugster’s attack, “I’ll deal with the Bugster!”

Though the Rider and the two with him attempt to leave with the boy, the other person dressed in white, a woman with a sword, intercepts them. The Rider attempts to fight her off. Despite the best efforts of both Riders, transformed and not, the Bugster and the woman were able to knock them down, causing Emu’s transformation to disappear.

A man appears, also dressed in white. But he stands out more than the other two did, as he wears a mask of Pac-Man. “You may call me Dr. Pac-Man,” The man says, “And if you can’t tell already, I am responsible for these Pac-Man you’ve been seeing.”

The other Rider examines Dr. Pac-Man, before asking, “Why are you doing this, though?” He gestures around them, “Having the Pac-Mans bite people?”

“Having them infect people with Game Disease,” Emu corrects, but he too is curious, “But yeah, why?”

“To get revenge on humanity,” Dr. Pac-Man answers simply, “Though there are a few in particular.” Apparently having felt that he sufficiently explained his evil plan, which Emu didn’t think he had, Dr. Pac-man and his allies leave.

Standing up, Emu runs over to the boy, who’s now showing symptoms of Game Disease. He must have gotten infected at some point. By now, Asuna arrives and Emu decides that he’s roping the other Rider and his friends into helping them get the boy back to the CR.

As their pushing the boys bed down to the CR, the Rider says, “I’m Takeru, by the way, Kamen Rider Ghost,” Then he vaguely gestures to the two with him, “This is Akari and Onari,”

“I’m Asuna, a nurse with the CR,” Asuna explained, “At the CR, we handle cases of Game Disease.”

“With Kamen Riders?” Akari asks.

Emu nods, “Yeah, turns out the most efficient way to deal with a sentient computer virus is to hit ‘em really hard,” Asuna sends him a glare, “Of course it’s never quite so simple.” He hastily adds, hoping to appease her.

Once they’ve finally gotten the boy to the CR, Asuna finds his file, “Togo Kiyomiya,” She reads, “According to his friends, he’s the developer of that mobile puzzle game, Hatesate Puzzle.”

Using his Game Scope, Emu scans Togo, only to find something odd. “He… isn’t infected?” He wondered aloud, “But he was showing signs of infection.” He fiddles with some of the machines in the patient room and gets the same answer. What the hell? He sighed and left the room, approaching Takeru.

“You were bit by one of those Pac-Mans, right?”

“Yeah,” Takeru nods, “Why?”

Despite that, Takeru seemed unaffected, other than his apparent inability to transform. It was odd, to say the least. “Are you feeling any usual symptoms?”

“No,” He responds, “I feel fine,” Emu’s hesitant to leave it at that, but if Takeru seemed to be fine, there wasn’t much he could do.

After a while, Director Kagami and Saki arrive, with Director Hinata on a video call. Saki is extremely worried sounding when she speaks, “One hundred thousand cases and counting,” She informs the group, “And no way to cure it. At this rate, there will certainly be deaths.”

At that moment, Poppy pops out of her cabinet, prompting the trio of newcomers to startle. “Those Pac-Mans,” She said, “They aren’t just some virus. They’re just poor game characters infected with the virus.”

“Emu, you said that your attacks had no effect on the Pac-Mans?” Emu nods at Saki’s question, “Then how are we suppose to defeat them?”

Emu pauses for a moment, thinking. Like with some Bugsters they’d faced before, the answer had to be somewhere in their game. Pac-Man wasn’t a very complicated game, though that assumed that the Pac-Mans came from the original game. As Pac-Man, you had to collect pellets, avoiding ghosts while you went. “Oh, ghosts!” Emu declared, earning himself odd looks from everyone, “The only thing that kills Pac-Man is ghosts! That’s probably why they targeted you, Takeru. Because you’re Ghost.”

Poppy blinked, “Well that’s a very literal interpretation,” But she doesn’t dispute the theory.

“It would also explain why they got rid of your ability to transform,” Saki nods, “So that you couldn’t defeat them. They seem to care little about actually infecting you, thankfully.”

While Director Kagami watched the conversation almost like they were all madmen, Director Hinata watched with a smile. “It seems you’ve already started on your efforts to figure this out,” He notes, “I’ll trust the CR to be able to handle it, alongside your new allies.” With that, he ended the call.

Akari frowned, “So now we just have to figure out how to get Takeru’s powers back,”

“We’re doomed!” Onari wailed.

Emu watched for a moment, trying to figure out what they could do. Maybe it had something to do with that Dr. Pac-Man? Not to mention… That Bugster that appeared, it seemed like it had one of the Prototype Gashats. But shouldn’t those be with Masamune? Well, except for the two that Gemn had has, the Mighty Action X and the Drago Knight Hunter Z that he took after they defeated Graphite.

As if on cue, one Masamune Dan arrives, followed by a meek looking young man, with Nico and a tall man with black and white hair behind them. Masamune seemed serious as he entered, while the man behind him looked nervous, his uncovered eye dashing around his surroundings. Nico seemed almost a bit excited, while the man behind her seemed annoyed. When Saki’s eyes fall on the man with Nico, she tenses.

Loudly, Nico notes, “Huh, so this is the CR? Not sure what I was expecting.”

The man beside her rolls his eyes, “I can’t believe you agreed to help.”

“It’s for research, right?” Nico responds smugly, “My own research.” The man just grumbles something that Emu can’t quite make out.

“Ms. Saiba has agreed to assist you with these… Pac-Mans.” Masamune began to explain, “Earlier today, four armed intruders came to Gemn Corp, stealing the eight Prototype Gashats in my possession. Ms. Saiba has also agreed to aid you in their retrieval.”

Nico shrugs at that, like it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe in her mind it isn’t. Emu’s eyes switch between the two unknown men. The nervous one and the annoyed looking one. “Who are these two?” He asks, pointing at each of the two.

Gesturing to the man beside her, Nico explains, “This is Taiga, he’s with me,” Taiga huffs, “He’s here for… moral support.”

“As if,” Taiga grumbles, “You dragged me here.”

“It might be helpful, you never know! Anyway, I help him with some research,” Nico waves Taiga’s grumbles off, “I figured he could be helpful with all these Pac-Mans around. Or something.”

Motioning for the man behind him to come forward, Masamune introduces him, “This is my assistant, you can call him Mu.” Mu waves slightly and hesitantly, “He’ll be assisting you in the retrieval of the Prototype Gashats. Or rather, he’ll be ensuring they’ll be recovered and returned to me.”

Mu says something that might be “hello” but it’s so quiet no one can tell.

Slipping past the two, Nico looks closely at Mu, causing him to shrink away. “He looks like a strong breeze would knock him over,” She says and strangely, Mu jumps slightly at it, though Emu isn’t sure why. “What happens with him when we gotta fight?”

“He’ll stay well out of the way of the fight, I assure you,” Masamune said, “He’ll simply accompany you, but stay far away from any danger.”

Emu supposes they’re not really going to be able to argue with Masamune about this, and if he’s right then it won’t matter terribly if they have this Mu following them around. Though Emu can’t help but think that there’s something… off about this Mu. Nico groans but doesn’t otherwise protest, Taiga says nothing, Director Kagami clearly doesn’t want to argue, and Saki doesn’t look entirely convinced. Poppy’s just studying the man and Takeru and his friends don’t seem to have an opinion.

Before anyone can say anything, though, Mu spots Poppy. His face lights up and he bolts over to where she’s standing, “You look just like Poppy Pipopapo!” It was the most and loudest they’d heard him talk yet. Emu thinks he sounds familiar.

Poppy seems startled by his sudden outburst and how quickly he made it over to her, but gives Mu a smile never the less. Behind him, Masamune clears his throat, “Mu,” He calls.

Mu sheepishly takes a step back and looks down, his hair obscuring more of his face. “Um, sorry,” He says quietly.

“He gets excited about anything to do with games,” Masamune explained, “Now I think that’s everything. I’m sure the CR will be able to handle this.” With that said, Masamune leaves.

“Well, uh, I’ll… leave you all to your jobs,” Mu says hesitantly, pulling a chair out from the table and sitting down. He becomes very interested in his sleeves and the hem of his Drago Knight Hunter Z shirt. “Don’t, uh… don’t mind me.”

Nico shrugs and looks at everyone, “So who’re these three?” She gestures to Takeru, Onari, and Akari.

The three quickly introduce themselves and Emu doesn’t miss how Taiga tenses slightly at how Takeru introduces himself as Kamen Rider Ghost. Nico doesn’t miss it either, “Hey, Taiga, what was that?”

“What was what?”

“You got all tense,” She pushes herself up onto her toes and gets in Taiga’s face, “Like you’re… scared. Of Ghost boy.”

“I’m not scared of some teenager,” Taiga scoffed, “What are you talking about, brat?”

But Nico was undeterred, looking at Taiga with perhaps a bit too much glee, “Could it be?” She wondered, “Are you afraid of ghosts?”

To which Taiga immediately shot back, “What? No, of course not-!”

“Taiga’s afraid of ghosts~!” She sing songs. Taiga groaned.

Watching the two, Saki sighed, “I swear they’ve both made decent Riders at some point or another,” She said, looking at Takeru.

Emu frowned, “Both?” He asked, “Nico’s Snipe but…”

“I’ll explain some other time,” Saki shook her head, “perhaps we should check on our patient?”

Of course, when Togo woke up, he immediately wanted to leave, but wasn’t exactly having much luck since he wasn’t strong enough to stand on his own, let alone walk. Joined by Takeru, Emu and Saki tried to determine why Togo had been targeted, though Togo wasn’t exactly polite in his refusal to answer. At some point Mu slipped into the room, watching from the back quietly, and Emu decides he’ll try talking about Hatesate Puzzle. That only seemed to make him more mad, since apparently he felt that he should be working on improving it and that he couldn’t do that in the hospital.

Obviously, Emu tried to convince him that improving Hatesate Puzzle shouldn’t be at the top of his priorities, given his infection of Game Disease. That he won’t be able to work on it if he was so terribly sick. Even Takeru agrees, saying that his life was more important than a game. Eventually, Saki says that if he will not accept their help, they’re nothing they can do.

Unfortunately, Emu knew that she was right.

So he and Takeru soon find themselves on the roof of the hospital. Which should have been odd, but honestly, despite having only known Takeru a few hours, the two got along pretty well.

“So you’re a doctor?” Takeru asks, glancing over at Emu.

“Yeah,” Emu responds, “Or, well, I mean I’m an intern right now.”

Takeru nods regardless, “Still, it’s impressive,” He smiles, “You seem to be pretty dedicated, too.”

Humming, Emu glances over at Takeru, “It’s… important to me. To be able to help people, not just as a Rider.”

Nodding in agreement, Takeru comments, “Just try not to die, it isn’t pleasant.”

“I can’t imagine-“ Emu cuts himself off when he realizes what Takeru said, “I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

“Erm,” Takeru sheepishly rubs the back of his head, “Well, when I became Ghost for the first time, it was rather literal.”

“You died?!”

“Yes?”

Emu stares at him for a moment. Takeru couldn’t be much older than Nico, if at all. “How old were you when you became a Rider?”

Hesitantly, he answers, “Uh, it was right before I turned eighteen?”

At that admittance, Emu just stares. Takeru… Takeru was younger than Nico was when he became Ghost. Takeru was younger than Emu had been when… And he’d died. Takeru had died and become Ghost. But he’d done all that and he was so young.

”Uh… Emu?” Takeru calling for him snapped him out of his daze with a flinch.

“Sorry,” He apologized, “It’s just… You were so young. You’re still so young.”

Something of an uncomfortable silence falls between the two, until finally, Emu says, “If it means anything, I think it’s amazing that you’re willing to fight for people like you do, even after you had died.”

“I definitely appreciate life more, now that I’ve died,” Takeru admits, “I’m lucky to have had the chance to gain that perspective.”

There’s something about his words that remind Emu of six years ago… It was hard for him to treat a patient’s life as anything less than a treasure to be safely guarded, sometimes. There were time when that exactly true, when Genius Gamer M particularly outweighed the rest of him, but for the most part… Takeru’s outlook on life is very unique, not something most people his age had.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Takeru fished something out of his jacket, holding out one of those sphere things, Eyecons, he called them. This was interesting though, as it was clearly connected to Para-DX, “This showed up at the temple a while ago.”

While Emu puzzled over the Para-DX Eyecon, eventually, Masamune greeted them, walking onto the roof. He asked to borrow Takeru’s Eyecon, the one he usually used to transform, hoping to be able to determine some way to defeat the Pac-Man with it. Easily, Takeru agreed, though some part of Emu wanted to stop him. After all… he still didn’t trust Masamune. Something about him was still very, very, wrong.

But he didn’t say anything. Not a word. He didn’t want to worry Takeru, figuring he could determine whether or not to trust Masamune on his own. He may have been younger than Emu, but he was technically more experienced in Rider business.

---

When Emu next finds Asuna, Togo, and Nico, Asuna is glaring at Nico. Nico is glaring right back, while Togo is a ways off, on his computer.

“Obviously their after him,” Nico said, “So let them come.”

“You want to use him as bait?” Emu asked, prompting the two to turn to face him. “Seriously, Nico?”

“Yes, M,” Nico groaned, “There are a whole bunch of people infected, aren’t you worried about them?”

“Togo’s our patient,” He counters.

“The CR’s patient,” She corrects, “I’m neither apart of the CR nor a doctor.”

She leaves, telling him to keep an eye on Togo. There’s not much Emu can do, so he waits. At least, until Togo, who had been working on that game for five hours straight, collapses. Now it was up to Asuna and him to get Togo back to the CR. Good going Nico.

But Togo wasn’t unconscious and just resisted their efforts.

Asuna was the first to scold him, “You can’t just work for that long and neglect your wellbeing,” She says, “Especially when we warned you about stressing yourself.”

“I’ll die when it’s time for me to die,” There’s something about Togo’s words that strike Emu cold. Who thought like that? Who would just care so little-

Shouldn’t I have reset? Why didn’t it reset? Did I load the last save point? But that wouldn’t be… here. That would be at home, maybe, or before I tried to cross the road. At least my headaches gone but… Where am I? Is this a hospital? What’s a hospital…?

Emu shakes his head, trying not to get too distracted by the memories. He couldn’t focus on those right now. He had to focus on Togo. Not that Emu got much time to do that, as Dr. Pac-Man appears. Some part of his brain thinks that Nico might have had a bit of a plan going, actually. Not a good one, but one.

But if Dr. Pac-Man was really after Togo, then they had to get Togo out of here. Picking up Togo, Emu looks at Asuna and the three begin to try to retreat. Before they can really get anywhere, more of the members of Dr. Pac-Man’s group appeared, leaving them nowhere to go.

Glaring at Dr. Pac-Man, Emu asks, “Why are you after Togo?”

“You see, the Pac-Man virus was just a tool for searching for a certain young programmer,” Dr. Pac-Man explained, looking right at Togo, “In the Pac-Mans is a program that detects a very specific strain of virus.”

In that moment, Togo clutches his chest and gasps, glitching began to appear on him. Despite his lack of symptoms, at least according to the machinery in the CR, he was showing signs of infection. Then, Emu noticed the strange feeling that always appeared when he was around someone who was infected and their infection would flair, or when there was a Bugster. At this point, he’d started tuning it out but… Surely Togo was infected. But why didn’t the machinery show anything?

Then he comes to his realization, “It’s a new strain of Game Disease,” Which was very, very, bad.

“The strain that he has is very important to our plan,” As Dr. Pac-Man spoke, the glitching grew and soon Emu could see a Bugster beginning to form from Togo. Now they had another Bugster to worry about, as well as Togo.

Once the Hatena Bugster had appeared, Emu wasn’t sure what to do quite yet, though he was prepared to fight, about to take out his Gashat. Then, Takeru rushes in, followed by Akari and Onari. Emu wasn’t sure what they’d been up to prior, but he hoped they found something useful out.

“You’re Michihiko Zaizen,” Takeru points at Dr. Pac-Man as he speaks, “But how are you still alive? You should have died six years ago.”

“I am Dr. Zaizen,” Dr. Pac-Man nods in response, “And I am still alive, because I am a Bugster. Six years ago, in that experiment, I was removing a Bugster from someone who’d been implanted with Game Disease, when it infected all of us. Now, I simply want to finish what I started.” Emu tensed at what he said. Six years ago and it was all far too much to be a coincidence. Could Zaizen have been the one to…? But then that would mean…

“You call yourself a doctor,” Emu begins, “But you use those skills to hurt people?!” All he can recall is the pain that Emu felt six years ago. Then the thought of what everyone Zaizen had infected now was going through. It made him terribly mad.

“Anyone who gets in my way,” Zaizen says, “Will die.”

The still newly emerged Hatena Bugster attacks, most likely due to Zaizen, in some way. Falling from the sky were what seemed to puzzle pieces that exploded whenever they hit the ground. After a few minutes of dodging two more people show up. When is dressed in dark blue and black, while the other wears a bright green poncho.

Recognizing the two, Takeru greets them, “Makoto, Alain!”

His attention is quickly drawn to one of the falling puzzle pieces though, which was about to land on Akari. Takeru rushes over, shielding her from the block and its blast. She’s dazed though she quickly soothes Takeru that she’s alive, though Emu can slightly see glitching from the both of them. Akari soon passes out, prompting Takeru to begin worrying again.

It was then that the Hatena Bugster decided to tell them a bit about itself, “My infections have a time limit,” He said, which nearly caused Emu to groan in annoyance, “You only have twenty-four hours to defeat me before your friends and anyone else infected by me die.”

Takeru’s two friends, Makoto and Alain, look like their about to try to fight the Hatena Bugster, Emu figures that their probably Riders too, so he’s not too concerned there, only for a one of Zaizen’s goons, the woman with a sword, to stop them. Emu was about to take his Gashat out and try to fight Hatena, only for one of Zaizen’s goons to stop him. Unfortunately, this one was very good at fist fights, not giving Emu the opportunity to transform.

“Onari!” Takeru calls, “Get Akari back to the hospital.” Aided by Asuna, she and Onari work to carry Akari back to the hospital like Takeru asked. Despite the distraction from various members of Zaizen’s goons, the three other Riders could see that Takeru was heading towards Hatena. His two friends yell at him not to, since he can’t transform.

Emu can hear Togo pleading for someone to save him. Yet despite how much Emu wants to, he’s currently stuck in a headlock. For a moment, he contemplates using his best way to get out of it, he could probably get the three other Riders to not tell the CR… He could just teleport out easy, but that would also reveal to Zaizen that he was a Bugster – really he wasn’t worried about Takeru and his friends knowing, just Zaizen and his goons.

Despite their best efforts, Zaizen’s goons were getting the better of them. Using that strange device that they’d seen Graphite use, Zaizen somehow manages to capture Togo in it.

The guy who Emu was fighting was immediately kicked to the side. The perpetrator being Kiriya, “Gee Ace, should’ve told me you guys had a problem.”

“Kiriya!”

“Emu!” Following behind Kiriya was Saki and Nico. Saki holds a Gashat out to Emu, “From the president,” She said. It seemed to be a Gashat that was based on who he could only assume was Ghost.

Turning her attention to the now Giril Bugster, Saki transformed into Brave, joined by Makoto who also transformed – Emu was gonna hazard a guess and say his name was Specter. There was also a bunch of Bugster grunts aiding Giril too. Nico, Kiriya, and Alain turn their attention to the Doral Bugster from earlier. The three transform into Snipe, Lazer, and Necrom, ready to fight.

Takeru attempts to fight Hatena, prompting Emu to get up and try to join him. Given Takeru’s inability to transform at current, he wasn’t fairing well at all. When Emu was about to grab out Mighty Action X, Zaizen speaks.

“Without Ghost’s powers, it’s hopeless. You don’t stand a chance. Now…” Behind Zaizen formed a mass of glitches and pixel which quickly took form into the appearance of a demonic Pac-Man.

With a giant, demonic, Pac-Man chasing after them, Emu and Takeru were forced to leave the building. While everyone was distracted, Zaizen was able to escape with Hatena too. Still, they had more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.

But Takeru was hurt, especially after trying to fight Hatena. “You need to get somewhere safe,” Emu tells him.

“No,” Takeru shakes his head.

“You’re hurt-!”

“I’m scared to die again,” Takeru admits, like that wasn’t something anyone would be afraid of, even if they’d already died once. “But I’m more scared of seeing Akari die.” As he finished his declaration, his belt appeared around his waist once more. Something comes flying to him, the Eyecon that he’d given Masamune earlier. He stares at it for a moment, before realizing that he could transform again.

Ore! Let's go! Kakugo! Go Go Go! Ghost! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Given that Ghost has the ability to fly, he’s able to easily avoid the giant Pac-Man’s attacks. Watching Ghost fight, Emu wonders if he should even try to help. He’d hesitated enough earlier that Togo had gotten captured… But still, if Takeru was willing to risk his life for Akari, then Emu should be willing to at least try to help. He activates the Gashats.

Kaigan! Ghost!

Let's Ride! Metcha Ride! Mutcha Ride! What's your Ride? I'm a Legend Rider!

Choosing the character on the player select screen that greatly resembles Ghost, the armor begins to appear around Emu.

Level Up! Inochi moyasu! Kakugo Kimeru! Ore ga Ghost!

Joining Takeru now, the two attempt to fight Pac-Man. Eventually, Takeru calls out, asking Pac-Man to snap out of the virus’ control, though that didn’t do much. If anything, it might have made Pac-Man more upset, but it was hard to tell. After, Takeru pulls out the Para-DX Eyecon he’d shown Emu earlier, using it to transform into a form that looked a bit like Para-DX.

The pair enter Pac-Man’s mouth, finding a maze not unlike in Pac-Man’s games. Inside, their able to fight the virus controlling Pac-Man, using a finishing attack to destroy it. As they leave, they see that Pac-Man’s smiling at them, before he disappears.

---

Everyone made it back to the hospital in one piece, at least. While defeating the virus infecting Pac-Man cured everyone who’d been infected by the Pac-Mans of their Game Disease, Akari and Takeru were still infected by Hatena. The only way they were going to cure that was to defeat Hatena and that would probably also result in having to defeat Zaizen.

Zaizen, a man who Emu had never thought he’d even have to get near again. He supposed he was right about those involved six years ago getting infected and dying, though he’d have never thought that they’d come back as Bugsters. Though, he did wonder how Takeru learned who Dr. Pac-Man was. He’d ask, but frankly he was more hoping that Takeru would find a way to actually rest.

But still… that wasn’t exactly what was bugging him, either. What was bugging him was…

“Are you alright?” Poppy calls, which strangely prompts Mu, who still sits at the table, though now playing what sounds like Mighty Action X, to pause and watch the two.

“I couldn’t save Togo,” Emu admits, “I hesitated too much and now…”

“Emu…”

Shaking his head, Emu holds in his tears, “I’ll be fine, Poppy. You’ve got things to do, don’t worry about me.”

Hesitantly, Poppy leaves. Emu’s not even sure why he’s bothering at this point. If he’d just teleported out of the grasp of Zaizen’s goon… Then he might have been able to save Togo.

He can feel someone staring at him. Looking up, he sees Mu looking at him, though Mu quickly looks away when he’s caught. After a moment, Mu asks, “Para-DX,” There’s something that rings uncomfortably familiar when Mu says his Rider name, “Why did you become a doctor?”

---

Poppy’s trying to shoo Kiriya out of the CR, like the fact he’s generally not supposed to be there had ever stopped him. Which, honestly, confused Kiriya. They invite Nico, but not him? Not that Kiriya cared much.

Instead, he can’t help but wonder, “Wonder why Masamune tasked his assistant with making sure the Proto Gashats are retrieved?”

“Does it matter?” Poppy asked annoyed.

“It’s strange, certainly.”

---

Eight hours. The clock in Akari’s room read eight hours left before the twenty-four hours was up. If Togo was infected with Hatena’s virus then… They had eight hours left to save him, as well as Akari and Takeru.

Mu stands in front of him, “Ghost has left, you know. He told his friends he’s going to Zaizen’s hideout.”

Standing, Emu looks at Mu, “Thank you, I need to go meet up with him.”

As Emu leaves the CR, he hears Mu call after him and the sound of running footsteps, “I’m coming with you!” Mu says, “To make sure you get the Gashats back from Zaizen!”

Finally, Emu meets up with Takeru, Mu following behind breathless, and they head to Zaizen’s base. They’re greeted with a man, who Emu thinks is… odd.

“Took you guys long enough,” The man says. There’s something about the man that just seems a bit too off. Emu can’t quite place what, though.

But Takeru just smiles at the man, “Haruto,” He says, “What are you doing out here?”

The man, Haruto, told them his plan. He’d convinced Zaizen to let him be lookout for them. Emu thought that Zaizen was terribly gullible if he was so easily convinced to let a complete stranger be lookout, but he wasn’t going to complain. Easier on them.

“I’m Wizard, by the way,” Haruto says as he begins to lead them into the base. Emu wonders if he has magic too, because that would add to the list of “Riders with really on the nose names”. At this point, Emu would definitely believe in magic.

Glancing back at Mu, Emu tells him, “Mu, you should stay out here, it’ll be safer.”

“But the Proto Gashats-!” He tries to protest, before cutting himself off, “Ah, well, I guess I… yeah… you’re probably right… they might notice me… this time.” Emu wonders what he means by this time, but instead just gives Mu a smile and a promise that they’ll be as quick as they can.

Once their inside, Zaizen and his goons quickly realize they’ve been tricked, which they probably should have saw coming. The three Riders are forced to fight the goons, to varying levels of success. Takeru’s fighting some Bugsters that Hatena had summoned, only for them to get shot.

The one who shot the Bugster was a man in a suit, with a gun. Police, it seemed. Takeru seemed to recognize him too, “Shinnosuke!”

“Even though I can’t transform,” Shinnosuke says, “I’m still a Kamen Rider and I can still help!” Emu thinks this must be where Takeru learned his mentality earlier from.

The last of Zaizen’s goons appear, knocking down Shinnosuke. Takeru helps him up, but before either can try to fight him, a man in samurai armor themed around oranges crashes through the ceiling, holding some kind of belt.

“You’re here?” Haruto asked, “Didn’t think you would come.”

The orange samurai holds out the belt to Shinnosuke, to which the belt, surprisingly, cheered, “Shinnosuke!” The face on it’s display showing a happy face. Well that’s… something.

“Mr. Belt?” Shinnosuke wondered, “How?”

“Gaim came and retrieved me, saying my help was needed again.”

Shinnosuke blinked, then had a look on his face that meant that he’d gotten his answer, “Well what else should I have expected from a space god?” Emu paused for a moment at that. Space god? You know what? This might as well just happen. This is the crazy shit his life is now.

As Shinnosuke and Mr. Belt spoke, a bit, Haruto looked at Takeru and Emu, who were standing off to the side watching these interactions and said, “Takeru, Emu,” Then gestures to the fruit Rider, “This is Gaim. Gaim, this is Takeru and Emu, Ghost and Para-DX.”

Distracting them from… whatever they were doing now, Zaizen began to speak, holding up the Bugvisor in his hand, a terrified looking Togo in inside it. Togo was glitching, more so than any normal person infected with Game Disease should be. “I’ll combined his DNA with Game Disease,” Zaizen declared, “Creating a perfect lifeform immune to all disease!” That was crazy sounding, but given Game Disease’s… everything, Emu didn’t think it was impossible. “Then, I’ll give the treatment to everyone.”

“That’s not how medicine works!” Emu yells, clenching his fists, “You can’t just do that to people without giving them a choice!”

Zaizen doesn’t respond. Instead, his goons use three of the Prototype Gashats, Taddle Quest, Gekitotsu Robots, and Giri Giri Chambara, to transform into their Bugster forms. Behind them, Zaizen too transforms into Genomes. The four untransformed Riders pulls out their belts and devices, ready to transform.

Mighty Action X!

Drive Type Speed!

Flame, Please! Hi-Hi, Hi-Hi-Hi!

Ore! Let's go! Kakugo! Go Go Go! Ghost! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Level up! Mighty jump! Mighty kick! Mighty-Mighty Action X!

Drive’s armor was red and black, with a tire flying onto his shoulder and across his body. Wizard was primarily red and black, with a tailcoat and crystal like design on his helmet. Before any of the five Riders could do anything, Hatena uses a Stage Select to sends Drive, Wizard, and Gaim alongside Zaizen’s goons to different stages. That left just Ghost and Para-DX to fight Genomes and Hatena.

---

Mu watches from his position against the wall as Ghost and Para-DX begin to fight Genomes and Hatena. He knows he told them that he’d stay outside, but he really couldn’t care less whether Genomes was defeated, so long as he could retrieve the Prototype Gashats. Of course, three of them were being used by Zaizen’s lackeys, but he could still get the other five. Admittedly, though, he had been expecting someone to notice him sooner, but apparently the Kamen Riders weren’t very observant.

Ghost changes form and couple times and Para-DX levels up to Level 3, yet neither Hatena nor Genomes seem terribly effected. But the four are busy with each other, so Mu uses this opportunity to make his way towards a sort of desk area. There, he finds the briefcase with the five Gashats.

He glances up, seeing Para-DX use a Gekitotsu Critical Strike on Genomes, but Genomes just blasts him away, knocking him out of his transformation and to the ground. Mighty Action X skitters across the floor, prompting Genomes to walk over to it and pick it up. Against Hatena, Ghost changes form again and again, only for what was clearly supposed to be a strong attack to get blocked by Hatena. He changes form again, this time to a sparkly one and tries to attack again, only for Hatena to fire a beam, knocking him out of his transformation.

Still, Ghost rises, making his way towards Hatena. Even when so beaten and close to death, he still tried to fight Hatena. And for what? Mu wondered. For his own life? For his friend who was infected? He’d risk his own life for her. Mu supposed… If Mu were in his position, then he would too. So he can’t judge Ghost.

Yet when it seemed that Ghost was done for, Hatena firing a beam at him once more, Ghost just. Disappeared, only one of his funny spheres left behind. What? Soon Ghost returned in a flash, holding a new sphere.

Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Ieyasu! Hatasunowa itsu! Tenka Touitsu!

Mu watches as Ghost began to fight Hatena once more, this time truly having enough power to stand a chance against the Bugster. Really, he seemed to be stronger than Hatena. Which Mu supposed was good.

Though he probably shouldn’t get so distracted watching the fight he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near. After all, he needed to get these Gashats out of here. Before Genomes decides to do something… Speaking of… Where the hell was Genomes?

The chainsaw end of a Bugvisor is held to Mu’s throat from behind him. He can see the hand and arm of who it belonged to, realizing it was Genomes. A voice spoke from behind him, quietly in his ear. “I know who you are now…” He says, “At first, I thought Para-DX was you. But now I see. Masamune thought he was clever?”

With a terrible, sinking feeling, Mu realizes he recognizes that voice. He’d only ever heard it once but… He freezes, whispering, “No… You’re the one who…”

A dark room. Scientists and doctors, all dressed in white. They’re on the floor, writhing in pain, glitching. A confused teenager, waking up in pain and fear. The ever-present voice in his head, whispering, “It’s your fault”.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he pulls out his Gamer Driver and the Proto Mighty Action X Gashat. He had to hurry and transform, his mind told him in a panic. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to beat Genomes, but he could at least get away, at least-

Genomes grabs Mu’s hands with the hand that isn’t holding the Bugvisor, taking away the Proto Gashat.

Para-DX stands, glaring at Genomes. “Let Togo and Mu go!”

Behind Mu, Genomes scoffs, “Why would you go so far to try to save them?”

“Because they both love games. I want to share that with them and see them smile!” Para-DX declared, “I want Togo to be able to continue making games and smile!”

Inside the Bugvisor, Mu can hear something. He can feel it too, there’s a drastic change. Then, Togo somehow projects himself in front of them, from the Bugvisor. In doing this, he’s clearly weakening Genomes slightly.

“Thank you for trying so hard to save me,” Togo says, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen earlier.”

Shaking his head, Para-DX responds, “It’s fine,” He gives Togo a smile, “I’ll do whatever I can to save you.”

“Save me, please,” With that, Genomes forces Togo back into the Bugvisor, prompting Mu to wince. That couldn’t have been pleasant. Then he realized the next sounds he heard. Dual sounds of both the Proto and finished Mighty Action X Gashats being activated. What was Genomes doing?

He realizes what was happening as he sees Para-DX’s eyes widen in fear, calling out, “No!”

Mu looks down, seeing as Genomes placed the two Gashats into his Gamer Driver and flipped the lever. Genomes let go of him, causing him to stumble forward, gasping. It hurt. It hurt so badly. His body was glitching and glitching and there was something rising over him. He couldn’t explain it but-

---

Emu has no choice but to watch in horror as Mu stumbled and cried out in pain as his body began to glitch. The Prototype Gashats alone could cause the user pain, but both the Prototype alongside the complete on someone without the compatibility surgery? He was amazed Mu was still standing, though he wondered when Zaizen had gotten a Gamer Driver.

“When I awoke,” Genomes said, “One of my biggest goals, alongside completing my research, was to get revenge on the one who did this to me.” Emu couldn’t believe he’d go so far to get revenge on him. To harm someone else… Well maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.

The glitching around Mu changes, now oddly orange and blue. Then, something knocks Genome back, and the glitching around Mu begins to take a definitive form. They can’t deal with another Bugster right now… Only it’s not another Bugster. Instead, Mu splits and now standing is something that looks like two Kamen Riders. One blue, one orange.

Genomes is clearly shocked by the turn of events, Emu was too. Though Genomes didn’t have a lot of time to think on it, as the two Riders turned and began to fight him. While the two Riders fought him, Ghost continued to fight Hatena with his new form.

Finally, Takeru defeats Hatena, causing a Game Clear. That meant he, Togo, and Akari were cured now. At least he and Akari. The two new Riders defeat Genomes, knocking away the Bugvisor. Togo is freed of it, seeming tired but no longer infected.

Then, the two Riders combine together once more, leaving Mu on the floor. Emu and Takeru rush over, hoping that whatever happened hadn’t killed Mu yet. Mu squints at them, letting out a groan, “Ugh… what… what the… ouch.” He finally settles on.

The two help him up, “We need to get you back to the hospital,” Emu said.

Mu grumbles a bit, “’M fine…” He said weakly, “…Just… owie…”

Alongside helping Mu out, they help Togo. They encounter the three Riders who helped them and thanked them. Then they found Poppy, who was still carrying Akari, with Takeru’s friends with them.

“Akari!” Takeru smiled, then collapsed. Handing Togo and Mu off to the others, Emu immediately began chest compressions. He kept it up, even when Onari told him to stop. He wouldn’t let Takeru die. Even as he could hear Poppy start to cry, even as he began to cry.

Then, Takeru sputters to life. Emu gives him a smile, “I’m your doctor, I’m not letting you die.”

“Thank you,” Takeru says, though a bit weak, “I’ll make sure to use this life well.”

Groaning again, Mu says something that sounds a bit like “what about the Gashats?” before he promptly passes out himself, his glitching increasing. Emu remembers what happened and they rush to get everyone back to the hospital.

---

Takeru and his friends have gone home, though all of the CR Riders remained. They’re worried about Mu, who’s infection level is already incredibly high. They think it’s because of the use of both versions of Mighty Action X, but no one’s sure. They haven’t seen a Bugster, so there’s not much they can do about it.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Nico says, almost sounding sad as she looked through the window into the patient room.

Kiriya looked at her surprised, “What do you mean?”

She gestures vaguely into the room and answers, “He’s gone.”

Looking into the patient room, it’s clear that there isn’t a sign of Mu. They can only assume he succumbed to his Game Disease. And there’d been nothing they could do to help him.

Sadly, Saki sighed, “I’ll return the Proto Gashats to Masamune and inform him. Hopefully he can tell us how to get in contact with Mu’s family.”

“Are you sure?” Taiga asked, though he received a flat look in response.

“Yes, now you all should call it a day.”

---

Saki enters Masamune’s office with a grave look on her face, briefcase of Gashats in hand. Masamune is certainly surprised to see her.

“I was expecting Mu,” He said.

“He was infected by Zaizen,” She said, “Forced to use both the prototype and the complete Mighty Action X Gashats at once. He disappeared too quickly, there was nothing we could do. We did retrieve the Gashats, though.”

Masamune examines the contents of the briefcase, then says, “I see,” In a terribly unconcerned manner, “I’ll ensure his… family is informed.”

She’s startled by how little he seemed to care but… “Then I’ll be leaving you.”

---

When Mu had woken up, he’d been in the CR’s patient room. Which was bad. He hurt, terribly, but he couldn’t stay. Quietly, he retrieved his Gashat and Gamer Driver, thankfully unnoticed by the Riders and left. As much as he would like to do something to them, so they could understand his pain at Graphite’s death, he doesn’t have the energy. He’s in too much pain, even by his standards.

Somehow, he’d made it back to the hideout, though he stumbled the whole way. He just hurt and hurt. Even his thought hurt. It was terrible and he could never remember something so painful. When he’d gotten back, he’d made it into the room, well into the doorway, when his legs just. Gave out.

Kuroto, though startled, managed to catch him, “What happened?” He sounded horribly worried. Mu felt bad about making him worried.

“Uhm… well… the, uh… science guy… he… put two Gashats in… the uh…. Proto and the finished… and, uh… ouch.” Mu mumbled while Kuroto helped him to the nest, which was still pretty much his bed, “And uh… I dunno… pain? I hurt…”

Taking the Gamer Driver and Gashat from Mu, Kuroto pulls a blanket over him. “Rest,” He said, “I’ll hold on to these for now. I have a use for them, anyway.”

“Mkay,” Mu muttered, “I… hurt.”

Kuroto couldn’t help but watch for a moment, seeing all the glitching. He’s never seen Mu this bad. Still, he regards the Proto Mighty Action X Gashat thoughtfully, “The prototype and completed Gashats at once?” He sighs, “I’ll need to look more into that.”

---

“Yo, Ace!” Kiriya greets Emu at a park bench. Emu wasn’t in his usual appearance, instead letting his actual appearance be seen, rather than his Emu disguise. He smiles at Kiriya, though it doesn’t seem quite right. “Something wrong?”

Hesitantly, Emu answers, “I was thinking about Mu,”

“Yeah,” Kiriya agrees, “It sucks what happened to him.”

“Not just that,” Emus says, “But it’s what happened when we were fighting Genomes. He put a Driver on Mu and put both of the Gashats in… But then Mu split and became two Riders. He – they – they were the ones to defeat Genomes and save Togo.”

Kiriya looks at him in shock, “No way,” He peers over his sunglasses, “You’re joking.”

Shaking his head, Emu can’t agree, “No, that’s what happened.”

“…But how?”

“I don’t know…” Emu fiddles with the cords around his jacket, “But also… This isn’t the first time I encountered Zaizen.”

“It’s not?” Kiriya didn’t really see why Emu would have ever met Zaizen before.

Glancing at Kiriya, Emu begins to explain, “He was the one… he was the one who separated Emu and I six years ago,” He rushes to finish his explanation. “I didn’t realize at first, not until he’d said what had happened to them.”

“It would line up with what you’ve said,” Kiriya can’t help but admit that it lines up scarily well. He wonders if it’s all coincidence that Zaizen returned now or what. And what about Mu? He’d have to look more into him, especially since it sounds like Masamune wasn’t too concerned about his apparent death.

He’d asked Nico to look into Mu, but Nico couldn’t find anything, not with just Mu. By the looks of it, Mu wasn’t his actual name. Then again, Masamune had never said it was. It was just strange. He’d have to go to Gemn Corp himself and ask around.

But that was for later. Right now, he was spending time with Ace.

“Cheer up,” Kiriya says, resisting the urge to throw his arm around Emu. “These things happen. There’s nothing we can do about. Besides, you saved Togo, Akari, and Takeru, alongside all those infected by Pac-Man.” A phrase he’d never have thought he’d have to say.

Still, Emu didn’t seem entirely assured, “Yeah, I guess so,” He sighed still, “I’m just… that form that Genomes created with Mu and the two Gashats… It was so strong, but why? And how come Mu wasn’t immediately killed?”

“Hell if I know,” Kiriya sighs, “But as it is, we aren’t going to get much in the way of answers.”

At that, Emu smiles, “I guess,” He looks over at Kiriya, “Thanks for that. And for being willing to spend time with me… like this.”

“No problem, Ace. When you’re not suspicious, you make good company.”

Emu rolls his eyes and laughs, “Sure, Kiriya, sure.”

#kamen rider ex aid #kamen rider exaid #kamen rider #kamen rider ghost #my writing #there is a me who can become strong

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honestlyhufflepuff · 4 years

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Here are 20 reasons I am leaving the caregiver job with the client I've had since 2008: a list of unprofessional behavior and abuse by my client's guardian.

1. She said I wasn't Christian anymore, and said I was disrespecting my mother, for leaving the church I was raised in.

2. During the first year of employment, she would yell at me multiple times a week over things like leaving a lamp on (this is while I was caring for her medically fragile, high needs adult daughter). She would accuse me of being incompetent or trying to get fired for unemployment.

3. She told me I was not approved off for my honeymoon, less than a month beforehand, when I gave her over 5 months notice with consistent reminders. She harassed me over several texts while I was on my honeymoon saying I would be fired if I did not return a week earlier than I was supposed to.

4. She told me I still had to come in when I was sick and vomiting because she did not believe me. I became dehydrated and was vomiting so much that I had uncontrollable dry heaving and was unable to drive home. She refused to come home early when I told her of my symptoms, and when she did come home to see me retching into her trash can, she started handing me cleaning supplies to disinfect the trash can and the entire bathroom before I went to the emergency room...

5. ...there was no apology or ownership in forcing a sick employee to work to the point of needing to be hospitalized. She would not accept that I could not come into work for the next 3 days until my husband delivered the doctor's note.

6. I worked there throughout college, and would present my new school schedule each semester. For one class, I made the mistake of scheduling it after work. She said the schedule worked with her, but then consistently got home 30 min to and hour late. I missed so many classes that I had to withdraw.

7. Even after the hospitalization mentioned in #3, she would continue to be skeptical of any time I called in sick over the years (which wasn't often). I had no PTO or sick leave to use even when I was full time, so when I took off I didn't get paid. I was never approved to take off for any reason, and when I did take off it was accompanied by a massive guilt trip about how I was putting her family in a bind. It did not matter if it was a vacation, an illness, a doctor's appointment, or a family emergency. It also did not matter how much or little notice I gave; the guilt trips and emotional manipulation still accompanied any time I needed off. To this day, with every job I've had, I am always incredibly anxious about asking off, but it's never been a problem anywhere else I've worked.

8. Emotionally manipulative things she has said to get me to stay:

-"We don't have anyone else. I have to go to my job in order to care for [client's name]. You would be jeopardizing my job by leaving, and her well being." (If pressed she eventually admits to not looking for anyone else)

-"[Client's name] loves you like a sister, and her quality of life would go down significantly without you..." continues to tell me that if I don't do what she wants then I don't love or care for the client, even if it is because I need a job with higher pay and benefits to support my own family.

-"I thought the two of us were friends. This is very selfish of you." (Any time I don't do what she wants, like continuing to go to school full time).

-"God has put her in your life for a reason. You are called as spiritual sisters. It's your responsibility to care for her."

-"In the real world-the business world- other people won't be ok with you just taking off without approval. It's insubordinate and unprofessional." I was only 18 when she told me this, and young enough to believe her. Once again, I've literally never had a problem taking off with any other client or job because I often had PTO, and was always able to obtain leave approval easily. Even when it meant the client parent had to take off from work, they understood that the onus was on them to find the needed staff to account for people needing sick days and vacation.

9. She puts me in the middle of personal drama, constantly bad-mouthing the client's father and other attendants (who all inevitably leave after a year or two at most).

10. Told me, after a decade of infertility, that God told her I would become pregnant and have a son I was to name Amos. She said it would only become true if I prayed about it, so now when I most likely don't become pregnant, I feel it will be blamed on my lack of faith- or the fact that I am a different faith from her. I feel this instance was truly out of good intention, but ultimately unprofessional and something I would have preferred she keep to herself.

11. For years, she never got home when she said she would. I could never make plans after work because she would agree to come home at 7 and sometimes not make it home until 8:30. She always blamed traffic, needing to run an errand, or her boss keeping her. Then, when I had my own child I had to pick up from an after school program, she consitently got home on time. This showed me that she did have the executive functioning skills to be on time, but did not respect my personal time or work with other clients enough to do so before I was a parent.

12. I bent over backwards trying to help her. I scheduled less time with higher paying clients that were lower need. I sometimes worked 60 hour weeks while I was also in school. It never felt like it was enough. Even for the time I was working there 6 hours a week it was always "Why can't you stay later? Where do you have to be?" The more I gave, the more was expected, and then I was guilted for not meeting that higher expectation.

13. She refused to take the time to have team meetings with other service providers and caregivers, despite the fact all my other client families do this, and keep staff much more consistently as a result. Because of this, information and instructions were always inconsistent. With the client being significantly behaviorally challenged and medically fragile, this was at everyone's detriment.

14. Over the years, I referred 3 friends to work for her because she insisted she could not find caregivers on her own. All 3 of them lasted less than a year due to her behavior. She would then blame them and trash talk them to me, despite knowing I was still friends with them.

15. She expected caregivers to also deep clean the house. We are talking hours worth of work, that there just was not time for within the shift while also meeting the needs of the client.

16. She is openly homophobic, xenophobic, and although she thinks of herself as "not racist," she was extremely weird towards my besf friend's African fiancé. She refused to shake his hand and told me she didn't think he was with her for the "right reasons." Maybe thought he was in it for a green card? She seemed skeptical when I told her that he became a citizen 2 years prior, and that they'd been dating 6 years.

17. She has systematically isolated my adult client more and more over the years. We used to share many interests in things like Harry Potter, early 2000's pop, anime, Harajuku fashion, Adventure Time, Steven Universe, etc. One by one, everything we bonded over was off limits, due to being a "bad influence" or "demonic." She is no longer allowed to engage in any age-expected media unless it is explicitly Christian, and it breaks my heart to see how sad she gets about that.

18. When I was in college, and completely broke after just paying for books and classes, she said that she wanted me to go to the water park with her and the client. Admission was $50. I assumed she was paying since I was being required to go for work, and this was always what was done in the past. In the car, I asked if I could ride a roller coaster that the client wouldn't be able to go on while they ate ice cream. She said "Sure! You can ride whatever you like!"

So, I start getting excited. We're chatting pleasantly until the moment when she says "OK, when we get out of the car, you can go pay for your ticket first, and then I will bring..."

My stomach dropped. I told her there was a misunderstanding, and that I could not afford my ticket. She acted like it wasn't right that she should have to pay for mine. I told her that if she didn't want to, then I could study at the Starbucks across the street while they attended the park. She said no, because obviously she still wanted my help with her daughter. She paid for my ticket, making passive aggressive comments the whole time about everything I did, from how I pushed the wheelchair to how long I took to go to the bathroom despite the line.

I was no longer permitted to go ride the roller coaster, and I sat in silence while they ate their ice cream.

19. Recently, due to Covid, I do not have child care for my own daughter on Fridays. I have been bringing her to work with me, which my client's mom was supportive of. Then the client had drastic behavioral changes that I won't detail, but that O can say was significantly stressful on my daughter, and made it stressful for me to manage both of them at the same time. I told the mother, 2 weeks in advance, that I could not come in on Fridays until the behavior was consistently resolved. I do not want to get a sitter outside of maybe my aunt, due to covid, and I wouldn't expect her to do that every week. My client's mom was very understanding of this at first, seeing as we both now have special needs children, but the night before the next Friday I was scheduled to come in she berated me for not finding babysitting to the point that I started to panic. I firmly told her that I gave her plenty of notice, and then blocked her number up until the day I was scheduled to come back in.

20. When she is home at the same time I am helping her daughter, she micromanages everything. I think she is incapable of just letting me do the same work I've been doing for over a decade without standing over my shoulder and looking for something wrong.

Some background info:

I wanted to write this, first of all, to document all the reasons that I am justified in leaving, so that I can refer back to it no matter how hard she tries to get me to stay. This is like my anonymous way of getting it off my chest since no one who follows me on here knows me irl. Second of all, I want all the young professionals on here to know that, if they are treated like this in the work place, it is ok to leave!

I started working for this family when I was 18, and I am now 31. I have worked as many as 60 hour weeks, and as little as twice a month when I was full time with the state, but I have always cared for her in some capacity since 2008. I am currently working 15-20 hours a week with her.

You may wonder why I've stayed so long, and in regards to that I will say first of all that abusive relationships are hard to leave. The abuser may convince you that you are bad and won't find anywhere else good enough to take you. This can pertain to any type of relationship, be it romantic, professional, parental, or friends.

Another factor is that I love my client deeply, and my employer takes advantage of that. We grew up childhood friends, which is one reason maintaining professional boundaries with this family has been so hard.

The last reason I have stayed may be the hardest to explain, but I will try.

Sometimes she is good. My employer has made improvements over the years. Most of the worst things on here happened when I was in college. I don't know if her improvement is due to a genuine change in heart, or because she knows deep down that her behavior is why all the other caregivers left.

Whatever the reason, we do actually care for each other. We do actually connect and have a good time. She is kind to my husband and my daughter. She often tells me that I am a godsend to her family, a loyal and talented caregiver, and the best friend her daughter has ever had (although she will contradict this the moment I am not doing what she wants).

What I want people in similar situations to know is that the good moments do not erase the trauma of the bad ones. It is not my responsibility to "get over it" because she is trying to do better. A lot of the stuff she has said and done run too deep, and when she lapses into her old ways, I find myself reacting in a panic-driven, irritable way that's not really me. It's a reaction to trauma. I am not required to continue to stay at an underpaid job with an environment that evokes such emotions.

So please, if you are being treated like this in your job, then leave. You will find something else. For me, I intend to have another job lined up before leaving, but I'm on my way. For the first time in years, I've revamped my resumé, and it felt so empowering to work on a document that highlights my strengths!

For anyone in a similar position, you've got this. There are a lot of great jobs out there. There are a lot of humane employers. If you are treated like this, then label it for what it is. It is abuse. It is unhealthy. It is not ok. It is not erased by the times they are nice. And you deserve better.

#knowyourworth #employer #abuse #personal #lizzy speaks #personal vent #long post #text post #not su related #sorry for all the grammar errors i wrote this on mobile

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big-bad-ulf · 4 years

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It’s All Fun and Games || Ulfric & Tasmyn

Timing: Sunday 28th of June Parties: @tasmyn-pearce, @big-bad-ulf Summary: Ulf and Taz go to the carnival. Strength is tested. Prizes are won. The mythical dog lion is found. Warnings: None guys everything’s fine!

Ulfric could hardly believe he had set foot on the carnival grounds again, but as he’d emerged through the ever-present fog and stepped across the threshold this time, he’d found the pressing desire to leave immediately that had come over him before wasn’t there. In fact, the flashing lights seemed less glaring and the screams of the patrons less grating than they had during his last visit, despite both his vision and hearing having sharpened since then with the waxing of the moon. A small part of that had to do with the fact he’d remembered to wear dark tinted glasses to help with the light problem, but he suspected the larger part of it had to do with the reason for this visit. Rather than attending out of obligation, like he had with Orobas, he was there this time by his own choice simply because he enjoyed Tasmyn’s company.

It had been so long since he’d gotten the chance to spend time with anyone for that reason that the occasion necessitated a special effort. Which was why he’d showered in an actual shower for the first time in weeks in preparation (though, he thought, in his own defense, when eyeballs had been trickling out of people's plumbing the mountain stream on his property had seemed the more hygienic option) and why he’d arrived early to purchase a greeting gift before he headed to their agreed-upon meeting spot. “It’s good to see you again, Tasmyn” He greeted her warmly when he got there, carrying a stick of cotton candy bigger than his head. “I must confess, I did already have to pay the carnival a visit, though purely for business reasons.” Or in the interest of the pack, anyway, which was close enough. “I used my familiarity with the venue to get you this though.” He offered the humongous confection cloud to her, almost in apology for not being able to enjoy this experience with her completely unspoiled, before adding as an explanation for its sheer volume, “The person at the stall insisted on giving me the ‘for two’ size when I said I’d be bringing it to someone else.”

Tasmyn usually tried not to make friends when she moved to new places. She had no real intentions of staying in White Crest for long when she had first arrived, but between the fae presence and the constant strange occurrences, and well… the people, she’d come to enjoy living here in a very short amount of time. So what was supposed to be her first stop in America had turned into a place she wasn’t quite ready to leave. And while she didn’t really know the implications of it all just yet, Ulfric was a surprisingly big part of that desire to stay. Which is why she was so thrilled that he was willing to accompany her to the carnival. It had been ages since she had been to one.

She was a little late to the meeting place they agreed on. Or maybe she was right on time? She couldn’t quite remember what they had agreed on. As Tasmyn saw Ulfric approaching, her eyes widened a bit - far more focused on the cotton candy in his hand than anything else. “Oh my goodness that thing is massive!” She exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across her face. Humans always did do the strangest things with food. “Oh, sorry. It’s really lovely to see you again too.” She said, turning her attention properly to Ulfric. “That’s okay! You can use your past visit to steer us away from things that aren’t worthwhile!” As she spoke, she reached over and pulled a clump of cotton candy from the stick, then began to eat it piece by piece. “Wow! This is fantastic. I’m glad the person gave you a ton of it.”

“It’s fine, that’s the response I was going for,” Ulfric laughed at Tasmyn’s reception towards the giant treat, surprised at how much his mood seemed to instantly improve in her presence. Maybe she wasn’t merely human after all, but some kind of… reverse empath? No, he was fairly certain such a thing didn’t exist, and it would’ve been foolish for him to hold out hope that she was more than human when she’d given him no concrete evidence to the contrary. Better to just enjoy this night for what it was instead of pondering what-ifs. Her request had him scratching his beard though, uncertain how to proceed, all of entertainment seemed worthwhile now if it meant prolonging their time together, but none of it had seemed so before. Well, except one thing, he remembered. “I never did find the dog lion. In fact, I’m beginning to think it’s just a myth they spread to lure people in here,” He informed her, caving to curiosity and trying some of the cotton candy himself. It was about as sugary as he expected, but he found himself liking it, nonetheless. For someone who was a natural carnivore, he had recently begun to develop an unexpected appreciation for sweet things. “But if you’re up for hunting a mythical creature,” Ulfric continued, carefully adhering to the human etiquette of swallowing his food before talking for her sake. “It might give us a chance to get to know each other better while we look for it?”

Tasmyn laughed softly, remembering the dog-lion they had talked about earlier. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call a dog in a wig ‘mythical’, but should be a fun hunt regardless! Let’s do it.” Even having only been there for a few minutes, Tasmyn could already feel the energy and admittedly the chaos of the festivities pulsing through her. She could even catch the faintest reading of a fae, no multiple fae nearby. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn't Ulfric since she hadn’t sensed anything last time they were together. What a shame too- he’d be a great fae. After she grabbed another chunk of cotton candy, she started off in a random direction, not really sure where they would keep a dion? log? Dog-lion. “Get to know each other better, right, of course.” She echoed, trying to keep her enthusiastic tone despite the fact that the idea of opening up to someone else terrified her to her core. Especially when it was someone new and she didn’t know how they felt about fae, about spriggans. “So, uh, how long ago did you move to town?”

Ulfric immediately found himself regretting his suggestion as soon as he heard her question. His move and the events that had led him to it weren’t things he wanted to talk about, not if he couldn't be honest about it. Being inauthentic quickly became exhausting and he tended to say what he was thinking too quickly to be a very effective liar in person anyway. That was why he usually let his natural intimidation ward off curious humans and save him the trouble of having to deceive them, but she waited for his invitation to ask, so he’d try and give as honest an answer as he could. “Sixteen years ago, or thereabouts. I left Norway at 19 and traveled around Europe visiting a few family friends before I got my papers together to come in here. I’ve got a few —distant cousins in town,” the werewolf quickly caught himself before saying human cousins. “They assisted me in finding me my first job at a tattoo parlor.” He followed the trajectory in which Tasmyn took off until he spotted the familiar row of gaming stalls, remembering that the Museum of Monstrosities booth and other ‘attractions’ were supposed to be on the other side, a likely location for the elusive dog lion. “Let’s try this way,” He urged, gently grasping her elbow to steer her in that direction. “How about you? I don’t think I’ve ever asked what you do for work. It must be exciting if it took you all the way to Canada for—” At that moment, Ulfric was interrupted by an overeager hawker wearing what looked to be traditional ringleader garb. “Care to try the strength tester?” The young man waved a prop hammer in his face emphatically, gesturing towards an old-fashioned seeming game with a sign that read, ‘Find out what your strength is worth!’. “Prizes awaited only the most fortified among us,” the vendor continued, “And you look like a strong candidate, pun intended. It’s sure to impress your lady friend!” He looked between Ulfric and Tasmyn. Ulfric had only paused to avoid being hit with the flailing hammer, but the hawker’s insistence he replied, “I’m sure she’s impressed by much more worthwhile things,” meaning for that to be the end of it and resume his quest for the dog lion, but finding himself glancing over at her, unsure how she’d want to proceed.

Almost immediately Tasmyn could sense that her question had struck a nerve. She normally tried to avoid questions that dug in too deeply to someone's past, so maybe that wasn’t the right thing to be asking. But he did say that he wanted them to get to know each other better. Isn’t this how humans did that? Maybe she was wrong. As they moved about the carnival, Tasmyn listened to his story about moving here, nodding along and shoving the sweet cotton candy into her mouth. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, she was surprised at the fact that she didn’t tense up or recoil like she usually did when people she didn’t know very well touched her. She didn’t have much time to think about why that was as Ulfric turned the questions back to her now. It was not an easy question to answer. She had been up in Canada selling some names to a contact she had. But that had nothing to do with her actual job at The Codfather. A human could twist words into half-truths and lie their way out of the situation, but she was not graced with such an option. “Well, I work at The Codfather as a hostess.” Taking a moment to choose the right words she wanted to use, “The Canada thing was more like … a favor. For an old friend. More like running an errand, really.” She was thankful that their conversation got cut off by one of the over-enthusiastic carnies. Ulfric was right, she really wasn’t the type to be impressed by brute strength, but when she caught his eye she saw a bit of an opportunity to put a full-stop to this Canada/job conversation. “I dunno, it might be fun!” She said, looking at the prizes in the booth, pointing over to a strange-looking green creature, noticing that none of the prizes resembled real animals, “Besides, that thing’s kinda cute.” She added, looking over to him with a shrug and a smile, leaving it up to him but tipping the scales slightly to change the conversation at the very least.

Ulfric wanted to ask her more about the fish restaurant, find out if she could maybe point him towards a wholesaler who could give him a discount on herring. It had been so long since he had spare to pickle with multiple plagues that had sullied the town’s waterways. But the vendor was still staring at them with urgency, and she hadn’t given him the easy out he’d expected. “Oh, well, sure, In that case…” he stalled for a moment, but hadn’t he said the goal of this outing was to make her happy? If taking a moment to play this game would achieve that, then he wouldn’t turn down the simple request. “Alright I’ll give it a shot,” He relented, giving Tasmyn a small smile but fixing the vendor with a glare as he passed him and slipped him a dollar to play. “You’ll be needing this,” the young man tapped him on the shoulder, waving the hammer at him again. The werewolf took what he offered, barely putting any effort into his swing as he brought it down on the target. Nonetheless, the indicator on the strength meter whizzed to the top with a flurry of lights and clanging bells. “Congratulations, we have a winner!” the vendor called out to the crowd over a megaphone, and despite the ringing in his ears and the ridiculousness of the situation, Ulfric’s inner competitive streak was satisfied with the victor and he broke into a genuine grin. “Here you go!” He plucked the stuffed ‘animal’ Tasmyn had wanted from the display, and presented it to her triumphantly. “I suppose it is sort of charming, in an unconventional way,” he said of the large, oddly shaped creature. It also felt surprisingly heavy, like they sewed a few weights inside it to prevent patrons who lost from running away with it, but he didn’t mention that part.

For a moment, Tasmyn felt a pang of guilt for encouraging Ulfric to participate in this game. Especially since it was becoming apparent that most of the vendors were fae. Traveling fae in a traveling carnival probably meant trouble of some sort. But this was just a silly game, even with Ulfric being human, or at the very least non-fae, a few moments playing the game then moving on couldn’t be much trouble. Could it? Before she could change her mind and suggest they move on, Ulfric had the hammer in his hands and was slamming it down on the machine with a sort of ease. Her face lit up when all the bells and lights began and she instinctively clapped. See?, she thought to herself, harmless. A feeling of happiness swelled over her when she saw him smile - there was a good chance that was the happiest she had seen him look. “Unconventional charm is the best kind there is!” She stated as she accepted the strange green stuffed creature from him. “Thank you for this.” Tasmyn looked up at him with a smile, then leaned in and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. She’d never known a stranger to be this kind to her for no real reason. “So… off to find this mystical dog now, huh?” she asked as she started to make her way in the direction they were headed before they got distracted by the game.

Ulfric was caught off guard by the unexpected hug. Physical affection had been fairly common amongst his old pack, wolves were social creatures by nature after all, but since he’d been forced into exile he had gotten used to being isolated in all ways. The only other person who’d hugged him in years was Ari, and he couldn’t remember ever allowing a human to come in such close contact with him outside of a fight, but he had to admit it wasn’t unwelcome. “Don’t mention it,” He shrugged, pulling back and hoping Tasmyn would interpret any hesitation from him as just the awkwardness of having to maneuver around both the giant stuffed animal and half-eaten cotton candy to return her embrace. “Yes, I will not be discouraged in my search this time,” He agreed, taking after her. They passed the Museum of Monstrosities with its display of various pickled specimens in jars, some possibly supernatural others clearly pieces of mundane animals sewn together. Eventually, he spotted a podium, with an attendant standing on top of it dressed as a lion tamer, complete with plastic whip and next to him was a golden retriever in a messy blonde wig.

“There you are!” The werewolf climbed the podium to pet the dog, which nuzzled into his hand eagerly, recognizing the kinship between them. “Uh, Sir? If you want a photo with our lion it’ll cost you five bucks,” the attendant protested half-heartedly, clearly reluctant to start a conflict with a man of his stature and determination. Ulfric had to tamp down on a small growl before it escaped his throat. The kid was only doing his job, but the exploitation of noble creatures for profit was one of the worst aspects of humanity. Instead, he leaned down quickly, looked the golden retriever in the eyes and stated, “I will make sure these people don’t mistreat you,” vowing to himself that he’d return to check on it before the carnival left town. “My apologies, humans don’t deserve dogs,” He said to Tasmyn as he jumped back down from the platform, huffing a little from the exertion. Which might have struck him as strange except, he couldn’t really think about much else in the presence of such a spectacular beast. “Isn’t he magnificent though? Thank you for indulging me.”

Tasmyn was mystified by everything she was passing by on their search for the lion/dog. There was just so much energy radiating off of everyone around her. She had spent a lot of her time over the past few decades alone, but not really isolated. She was used to feeling alone while surrounded by crowds of people, and while she had convinced herself a long time ago that she preferred it that way, being here and enjoying these festivities with someone else was truly refreshing. “By the way,” Tasmyn started as she less-than-gracefully finished eating the last bit of the sugary treat Ulfric had given her, “What is this called again?” After spending years both hating and fearing humans, it was nice to be near one who she felt some sort of security around.

As they rounded a corner Tasmyn was so captivated by all the foods she was smelling that she almost didn’t realize Ulf run off towards the dog. It didn’t take her long to follow him over to the podium though, laughing heartily when she saw both how enthusiastic Ulfric was and how bewildered the attendant was. She was still smiling widely when he left the dog and came back over to her. However, she wasn’t too caught up in the moment to notice his phrasing. ‘Humans’ don’t deserve dogs. Was he … not human? That’d have to be a question for another day, perhaps. “Truly magnificent! I’m so glad we got to see him. He seemed to really like you, ya know humans say that if a dog likes you that means you're a good person.”

“Do people say that?” Ulfric carefully used ‘people’ this time to counteract his earlier slip-up. Having to close the shop for the duration of the eyeball plague had left him sorely needing to brush up on his mundane conversational skills. “I don’t know how true that is,” he mulled over the statement. He’d always tried to follow the teachings of his pack elders and do what was right for his community, but he’d never really thought of himself as good, more as someone willing to make the hard decisions necessary to keep people better than he was safe. At times, he thought he was more shield than man… But now he’d remained silent for far too long after what was clearly just meant to be a polite compliment. “I’m glad I can at least do something good,” he shrugged and gave her a small smile, trying to dissolve the awkwardness. “Show you a good time.” At that, he stopped and turned back to her fully, suddenly unsure. “Are you having a good time?”

Tasmyn got a bit worried at his question, maybe they didn’t really say that? Maybe she just heard one human say it once and presumed it was a common saying? “That, uh, might just be an English saying.” She added, hoping that would cover her tracks. But his silence made her wary, maybe she had let too many weird things slip… maybe he was putting the pieces together. Finally, he spoke, and she relaxed slightly. His words made her blush ever so softly. She smiled softly and nodded, “I’m having a very good time so far. I got to eat a fluffy sweet candy, you won me this,” she continued, lifting the stuffed creature up a bit more prominently, “and you looked so happy when you got to see that dog! So a great time, really. Are you having a good time?”

“Yes, surprisingly so,” Ulfric laughed as Tasmyn held up the odd stuffed creature again, before quickly adding, “not that I didn’t expect to…” in case she thought he meant he wasn’t expecting to have a good time with her. He had a wonderful time at their first meeting, even with the whole smoke monster debacle. The memory of it had been one of the few things to elicit a smile from him in the disastrous weeks that followed. “Good times have just been hard to come by lately.” He explained and then found himself asking without giving it too much thought, “Would you mind if I saw you again sometime now that you’re back in town? It would be nice to know I’ve got another good time waiting for me if I ever need it.” It was a small defiance of the natural cycles that guided his destiny, to try and line up another pleasant moment and keep it stashed away for a rainy day. But after weathering all the foul things the winds of fate had sent his way recently, he was willing to cop whatever punishment they’d dole out for the minor infraction if it meant he had something to look forward to.

Tasmyn had been expecting to find a fae community in this new town, she had not been expecting to find such a sweet and lovely maybe-human though. Her smile widened and the soft flush on her cheeks reddened at his question. “I’m sorry you haven’t been having many good times recently… though admittedly I do know what that’s like.” For so much of her life, Tasmyn had needed to live from moment to moment. She rarely made plans because plans just make disappointments. However, here in the moment with him it felt foolish not to make plans. Save when she thought her husband was trying to kill them with a smoke monster - every moment spent talking with him and spending time had been the highlights of her time here in White Crest. “I’d love it if we could get to see each other again. The sooner the better in my book. You’re really my first… well, only friend in town. And I always seem to be smiling when we spend time together.”

Her only friend. Ulfric could count the number of humans who genuinely considered him their friend on one hand, and all of them had ties to the mystical world in some way. He normally tried to keep a polite, civil distance from the rest of them as a species, partly because they just didn’t seem to get him and partly because his family would have objected. The former hadn’t proved a problem where Tasmyn was concerned so far, and the latter? Well, he’d finally made the long-overdue decision to stay and build his life in White Crest, hadn’t he? The half-finished cabin in the outskirts was a testament to that. Though his family’s approval still weighed heavily on his mind, earning his place back wasn’t his goal anymore, so it reasonably followed that he was no longer bound to follow their rules to the letter. “It’s a deal then. We’ll see each other soon,” He nodded, the affirmation a measured deliberate choice. There remained limits to how far this companionship could go, considering the danger both of them could be in if his true nature were revealed, but he didn’t see the harm in playing the part of this good man she thought he was, if it was bringing her joy as well. To that effect he added the caveat, “And as your friend, I give you permission to throw rocks at me again if I do anything to make you stop smiling.”

Tasmyn grew up being told there was a hierarchy to the types of beings in the world. Spriggans, all other fae, witches, other supernatural beings, humans, then wardens dead last. But ever since she moved away from her village, she very quickly began to realize how untrue that all is. Spending time with Ulfric continued to prove that to her. He was kind, understanding, and gentle with her - things she used to think were impossible for humans. She laughed when he told her she could throw rocks at him. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I do seem to always be smiling when I’m talking with you.” She took a little look around, taking in the last few seconds of this evening. “Well, I look forward to seeing you again.” As she said that, she got on her tippie toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. When she returned her feet firmly to the ground, she looked up to him and smiled before pivoting and making her way towards the exit.

#chatzy #tasmyn #its all fun and games #wickedswriting #wickedsevent #//all wholesome stuff here #//don't worry about any implications >.>#arc: a test of strength #//read the dates on my calendar wrong rip the 28th

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aurelacs · 4 years

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Ten of Wands

An Ezra/F!OC Red Dead Redemption AU

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

CONTENT: mentions of spousal abuse, ezra is doing his best

A/N: Howdy! This one’s going to be a little short because I sort of dug myself into a hole, but next chapter will be longer! I said this would be a slow burn :). And I have Plans :)).

This is set in the Red Dead Redemption universe, however there’s no spoilers for either game, and you don’t need to have prior knowledge of the games to understand the fic. I’m just using RDR for the setting and the time period (1899). Hope you enjoy!

chapter list | masterlist | read on AO3

II. The Tower

Ezra was intolerable.

His proclivity for talking mindlessly grated against Annie’s ears, who had grown so used to her mostly wordless self and husband. Even before she married, she was never one to speak much. Their first afternoon and night together was spent listening to him speak cryptically about the so-called “dealings” he had in the towns on the way to Armadillo. He spoke in code about certain men he needed to speak with, small jobs, some of which he called “ harmless errands,” as if that had any meaning to her. She couldn’t figure out when he took the chance to breathe. What all made it worse was Ezra’s incessant need to pry. Even though she did her best to pay attention, he still broke through. Her name, her life, what she was doing in Valentine, did she live in Valentine, how it was strange to meet a woman who was unmarried. Every question stung, dug a little deeper, until it felt like a hole torn in her sternum. For the time being, her one worded answers sufficed, but she could tell he was getting antsy.

The one dealing he was upfront with was an apparent debt collection he had in Blackwater. It felt nearly unacceptable to Annie. Blackwater wasn’t too far off course, but it was enough that it made her worry about bounty hunters catching either of their scents. Ezra assured her they wouldn’t be there long, but for Annie it felt as empty as every other word he had said since they reached the camp.

Annie hoped to find respite from Ezra as they settled in for the night, only to be greeted by the fact that he even spoke in his sleep. Nowhere near the winded soliloquies like when he was awake, but enough that it kept her awake well into the evening. There would be periods of silence long enough where she believed herself to be safe, and he would start up again. His words were never coherent; mindless babbles that effortlessly escaped through his pursed lips and furrowed brow. The light from the fire reflected against the curious patch of blonde hair that sat above his right temple. It wasn’t until what felt like hours after Ezra had first settled in for the night that Annie’s eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and she fell asleep.

Ezra wasn’t at camp when Annie woke up the next morning. She half expected all of his belongings to have disappeared with him, but when she rose to check, she saw his bedroll still laid out under his tent. She splashed some cool water from the river on her face to wake her up further before reigniting the fire that went out during the night.

“It is always nice to be in the company of another early-riser like myself.” Ezra’s voice was accompanied by the sound of gentle hoof steps as he led his horse closer to the camp. Two rabbit carcasses hung from the back of his saddle. His plan for the day, he said while unhooking the rabbits and beginning to cook them over the fire, was to head to Strawberry to take care of his first “errand.” The town was a couple hours west in the right direction. Annie didn’t feel the need to state her objections just yet. Ezra, for the time being, was the rope that could pull her out of the mire. With as deep as she found herself, she had little other choice. He pulled Annie out of her thoughts and urged her to eat, eager to make their way. He spoke fondly of Strawberry as he ate, like heaven and earth moved to accommodate the river town. He told her she wouldn’t believe how clean it was compared to Valentine.

“When the sun reaches its peak, it reflects upon the river like a luminous sapphire. It makes the entire town shine a blue the likes of which you have never seen, I assure you.” Ezra refused to stop speaking about it even as they packed up and began their journey. Annie quickly tuned him out. This was the furthest west she had ever been, even if the scenery had barely changed. The greenery felt more lush, the dirt of the road seemed to sink under the horse’s hooves differently. She wanted to take everything in as the threat of never seeing it again loomed over her. The thought gripped at her chest, ate at her to the point where she wanted to scream as though it was the only way to release the building energy.

It was hard to balance herself on the back of Ezra’s horse without touching him in some way. It felt inappropriate to grip her arms around his waist as the Belgian Draft wobbled along the worn path, but not holding on at all threatened to see her fall off entirely. Her cheeks warmed unpleasantly at the thought of putting her hands on another man while she was married, even if it was solely for practical reasons. Even if she was no longer married. Annie let out a beleaguered sigh and wrapped her arms around Ezra, minding to keep as much of her body away from his. If he noticed her awkward position, or that she was holding on in the first place, he didn’t remark on it.

“So, little bird, why do you need to get to Armadillo?”

Annie hesitantly remained silent. The question sent a small pang of fear down her spine, further adding to the tightness in her chest. Her bounty poster still sat folded and tucked into the satchel that hung across her body. Had he looked while she slept? She had given him so little the day prior that perhaps he felt the need to check for himself, and asking her now was just a test of how honest she would be for the rest of their time together.

“I heard there was a ranch nearby there that was hiring.”

Ezra turned his head to look at her and smiled affirmatively. “I do not know where the MacFarlanes find enough money to maintain their operation but there they are. The ranch is like a town within itself. I’m sure they’ll have something for you.” He paused for a moment. “If not, there are always plenty of general stores to rob.” Annie could feel his back shake as he chuckled at his own joke. She had the urge to smack him, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the derby hat off his head and into the mud below them.

“As I mentioned earlier, we are stopping in Strawberry because of a small enterprise I have that involves the post officers of this fine country. After I speak with him, we can be on our way to Blackwater.”

“I don’t see why we need to stop in Blackwater. It’s out of the way and I don’t want to give the b-... posse from Valentine more time to find us.”

“We have already crossed into West Elizabeth, the meager posse of a shithole of a town is not going to bother crossing state lines to look for a man that robbed a shopkeep of fourteen dollars. Unless it’s not just the posse about which we have reason to be concerned,” he laughed. Annie stayed silent.

Ezra pulled the reins on his horse to signal it to stop. Dread flooded Annie’s body once more. It wasn’t the volume at which Ezra held his voice, but his tone. It paralyzed her to the point where he had to pry Annie’s arms off of his waist to hop off and look up at her as she sat, frozen. The tone meant hurt. It meant anguish and run and cower. But nothing of that nature followed the tone as he paced silently back and forth a couple steps away, his hands resting on his waist.

“Little bird, I have been more than forthcoming with my information and backstory and I do not find it to be fair that you have since chosen to give me absolutely nothing.”

“Stop calling me little bird.” It was all she could muster.

Ezra’s voice softened as he approached. His question was hushed, like he didn’t want his horse to hear, like speaking it any louder would cause the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge emerge out of her so harshly that she would break. “Do we need to be concerned about more than a posse?”

“No.” Annie’s voice shook as the word fell from her throat. She didn’t know why he insisted on pressing the matter when they both made it clear that they didn’t want to accept whatever truth Annie was hiding, though hers was far deeper than she knew Ezra could anticipate.

“I am not getting back on that horse until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Annie was on the verge of tears as she reached into her satchel to pull out her bounty poster, still undisturbed. She handed it to Ezra and refused to make eye contact as he scanned over it. She focused above his eyes: his eyebrows, his forehead, the blonde patch that continued to poke out beneath the brim of his hat. His laughter rang through her ears.

“Do you really expect me to believe that you are a murderer?”

Annie looked at him sheepishly. If only she were able to project the image of her husband into Ezra’s mind. Blood pooling, chest open, dozens of pellets boring small holes into the wall and stairs. Would he be able to feel her fear? Tears did pour as the horrid sight refused to leave her mind despite how hard she pushed it. She jumped when Ezra reached out to gingerly touch her leg in comfort.

“Would you like to get down?”

“No. Can we please just keep going?”

He nodded his head silently and hopped back on. Ezra was quiet the rest of the ride, and Annie didn’t want to admit how much, in that moment, she needed his speech.

Strawberry didn’t quite live up to Ezra’s proclamations, but Annie couldn’t deny that it was pretty. And it certainly was nicer than Valentine. The town was built around the river, framed with elevated water flumes that ran from the mine above it. Each building was made from the same dark wood, giving it a sense of uniformity and quaintness that Valentine lacked with its painted siding. The roads were still dirt but miraculously weren’t muddy. Some spots even had flowers growing along the banks. Ezra hitched his horse on a post outside of a depot.

“I need to stop in here for a minute. If you’d like, up this road is the hotel. You do not seem up for much more traveling today.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Ezra was right. It was hard to allow the thought that he could possibly read her, even as well as her husband. Annie had overheard people in Valentine speak about the hotel. The mayor apparently wanted Strawberry to become a tourist destination for visitors of West Elizabeth and spared no expense for the hotel and town surrounding. As Ezra disappeared into the depot, Annie made her way up the incline. Her feet itched to make their way to the sheriff’s office to see if her poster was hung here as well, but resisted the urge. The act begged attention, and it’s possible this sheriff kept his notice board inside the office, which beckoned its own set of problems.

The best word Annie could muster for Strawberry’s hotel was ‘cozy.’ It was dimly lit with oil lanterns and from the light outside that filtered in through the windows. A gentleman stood by the front desk in a full suit, hands clasped behind his back. He greeted her with a “madame” as she walked in. The action nearly floored her. The man gestured over to a small board that listed the services the hotel offered and the prices: bed and bath, both a dollar each. Annie paused. It seemed foolish, overindulgent, to spend money on a bath, but her bones ached something unknown deep into the marrow that acted as a lure to drag Annie’s hand into her satchel, and dig out two dollars.

The bath room was upstairs on the right side of a landing, directly next to one of the two bedrooms the hotel housed. Steam had already begun to gather on the windows from the copper tub situated directly in the middle of the room. It also held a small cabinet with fresh towels, and a small table littered with tinctures and labeled vials. Annie stared at them all, taken aback by the sheer amount of oils they had, some of which she had never heard of. She poured in the one that simply read ‘rose’ and slunk into the scalding water.

Annie could have fallen asleep right there, enshrouded in the warm water and cradled by the heat of the tub. She dunked herself under and stayed there, letting it wrap around her over and over until she needed a breath. It was tempting. The warmth of the bath, the extended moments of privacy, the lock on the door, all called to her an enchanting song that coaxed her hand from down her sternum, to her belly, to the bundle of nerves at her core, when someone knocked.

“How about some company, honey,” a sugar sweet voice rang out from behind the door. A woman paid by the hotel to accompany the weary travelers who stumbled in. It wasn’t for her.

Even with the embarrassment creeping up her chest, Annie still managed to stay in the bath until long after the water went cold. It had been months since a proper bath, and she didn’t want to leave. When she left the bathroom, she checked three times to make sure no one was on the landing or coming up the stairs before making her way into her room in her towel. The bed took up most of the small room and Annie shed her towel and sank far into the covers with no regard for sleeping clothes or anyone walking in.

Her dreams that night were of her, naked, surrounded by darkness, a nameless figure with a blonde patch of hair buried between her legs.

Tag List: @immundusspiritu, @borderlinedindjarin, @aforces

#ezra prospect #pedro pascal #my fic

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years

Text

Backstage Passes

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Seokjin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 6k-ish

Genre: Smut

Summary: Your meeting with the lead singer of Bulletproof ends with a night of frolicking!

Warning: Kim Seokjin (I know what I’m about guys), Reckless behaviour on Subway platforms, Heavy debts and study loads, Inebriation, Dirty Talk, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Jin’s usual narcissism, protected sex, A very *big* male member, Sexual themes, Surprise orgasms, just Jin being a lil’ shit.

A/N: I would like to thank @floralseokjin for Jin’s dick ;)

You were late.

Normally the hustle on the steps of the subway wouldn’t bother you as much, but today was one of those days. What with the bills pouring in and the stress of your degree bearing in, you had decided to sleep in for one day. That one day, your professor decided to hold a thesis meeting.

In short, you were now rushing through pressing crowds to hopefully catch a train that would get you to the campus in time.

You knew you shouldn’t have moved out from the apartment you shared with another student on campus, but you couldn’t stand the pounding of her headboard against your shared wall any longer. The awkward silences the next morning which let you both know that you could hear her vile screams every other night just weren’t worth it.

Finally emerging on the very edge of the platform, you leant in recklessly, looking both ways for whatever train went the direction you wanted it to.

“Hey, do you have a death wish?”

You turned to see a man right behind you, one hand reaching forward as if he was going to pull you back.

You shifted back into the safety of the yellow strip.

“I’m sorry?”

The man grimaced, or so you assumed from what you could see of his face that was revealed over the thick black face mask and even thicker scarf wrapped around his head. Eyes darting down to the yellow strip and then your feet, he waved a hand at the nonexistent distance between them.

“You could’ve gotten hurt falling in, died maybe. What else am I supposed to think?”

You clicked your tongue at the thoughtful stranger.

“I’m just in a hurry.” You tried hard not to sound snappish. After all, he wasn’t wrong; you were just not in the greatest mood.

“In a hurry to die?”

“I don’t want to die; I’m just late for a meeting.”

It didn’t strike you that maybe you could’ve just thanked him and moved places, somewhere farther away where he wouldn’t catch you doing it again. But the man was conversational and you were on a roll.

“I decide to sleep in for one day and my douche of a professor called in a meeting which he should’ve called a month ago. It’s really not my best day.”

The man, dark inquisitive eyes glinting under the stark lights allowed you to regale him with the woes of your life before you stopped, realizing that not only were you pouring out your life to a complete stranger, there were also other people around listening, some looking irritated at your chatter and others blatantly staring at you in interest.

Heat rising in your cheeks despite the high collar of your coat, you turned away from the prying eyes, his and others.

“Sorry,” you grunted.

You had only decided to pull your phone and headphone out to drown your embarrassment in music when you felt a hand on your elbow.

You turned in alarm to see it was the stranger again, hand curved around your elbow to tug you gently back, almost into him.

“I would just feel a lot better if you weren’t across that line.” He said and you wondered if it was sarcasm or genuine concern in his voice.

You blinked slowly up at him before nodding, trying not to acknowledge the slight tug in the gut you’d felt in your stomach due to his proximity.

You’re just lonely. You haven’t had someone show you this much sympathy in a while, especially a stranger. Get a grip.

Finally – finally when the train arrived, you were the first to board it, thankfully noting that not a lot of people were getting on the commercial way of getting to the university grounds. Aside from the ones already there, you’d have a chance of hopefully crashing at your friend’s place.

You glanced up when you spotted a familiar black clad figure sit beside you, worryingly looking at the ‘thoughtful’ stranger.

“Are you following me?” you blurted out.

You didn’t have to wait for the man to turn to know he had raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you ask?” he asked.

The question threw you. You might have expected an offended rebuttal; you didn’t know why he had gone with simpler words, posing a more complex question.

“I…well,”

“Don’t worry I’m not, I have to get to the university grounds as well. I have something to do.” He said.

“Oh,” you looked down to your hands, feeling silly. “Sorry,”

“It’s fine.”

You turned your head but found yourself looking to the reflection of the man sitting beside you time to time. He had removed the mask and scarf a little time into the journey and you had to say you gaped.

He was pretty.

He wasn’t just handsome in the conventional way, with the sweep of his elegant nose and plump pillow lips, he was gorgeous. A mass of black hair fell around his face, his fingers brushing the bangs back.

“So, what year are you in?” he questioned, almost as if he could feel your intense examination of his features.

“Oh, I,” you paused as he turned to you with a smile.

“We might as well pass the time somehow.” He explained gently.

It was probably not smart, the way you spilled further.

You weren’t a normally chatty person, but the way the man kept his eyes on you, waiting for you to go on further was a spur. You spilled everything.

As long as he didn’t know your name, you were fine right…?

At the university stop, as you filed out, the beautiful stranger behind you, muttering about how he had to go but he hoped he might run into you again, you realized that you hadn’t gotten his name in return.

Maybe that was for the best, you parting ways in mystery just the way you met.

You stared in non comprehension at your best friend, squealing as she jumped about her room.

You had learnt a long time ago to allow Siyeon her frivolities; her rich background making it easy for her to stay bubbly and stable while you sunk lower each day.

“Stop,” you finally sighed. “What are you on about?”

Siyeon stopped talking, her keen eyes flickering to you in concern. “What’s wrong with you? You look dead on your feet.”

You glanced away, mumbling something about deadlines before looking up at her again.

“What are you so excited about?”

“Didn’t you hear me scream? Bulletproof is visiting the campus today! They’re going to perform at Hoseok’s café.”

You nodded listlessly, interest fading soon.

Bulletproof was one of Siyeon’s guilty pleasures. She’d found their debut song on Sound Cloud, claiming it was her Nirvana and she’d religiously followed the underground band since. You’d seen her sporting their songs and flaunting their deeper lyrics on her notebooks but you had never actively pursued her mania with them.

After all, she was bound to move on sooner or later.

You wondered if their tour on your campus meant the beginning of another one of Siyeon’s obsessions while the one with Bulletproof subsided, now that she could see them in person.

“…Hoseok sent me exclusive tickets, two of them! So naturally, I told them I would bring you…”

You jerked your head up from your textbook.

“You did what?” you grunted in irritation.

Siyeon sighed.

“Y/N, we both know you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for way too long, you need to get out.”

“I can’t get out. I don’t have the money to afford both an outing and my electricity bill.” You reminded her. You were being crushed under debt and while you appreciated the offer, you’d rather not.

“Well, you don’t have to pay for this one, I already did it.” Siyeon said, flopping down next to you on her plush bed.

“Siyeon, you didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled.

“Hey, if I want to take my best friend to a band show, I can, okay? Stop whining and pick something out from my closet.” She was already up before she finished her sentence, throwing open her closet doors to display her vibrant selection of clothing.

Smiling a little at her over enthusiasm as she reminded you that you had exactly two hours to get ready, you closed your textbook.

Maybe one night out wouldn’t be so bad.

The café; normally decked out in shades of comfortable browns and creams had undergone a stunning change.

Deep reds, bold patterns and black draped over the surfaces, a small platform set up near the back beside the counter.

“They are the band colors and sigils,” Siyeon let you know as you trudged past the decorations, earlier than other patrons and made your way to where Hoseok, your friend and owner of the café was lifting beer bottle crates to the back of the counter.

“Girls,” he mumbled, counting heads of the bottles, “you’re early.”

“I know! I wanted to get the best places!” Siyeon gushed while you stifled a yawn. You were so going to bed as soon as this was over.

“Siyeon, it’s a ticket based show. You’d get the first stand anyway.” Hoseok reminded her but there was nothing that could’ve made your friend dim. She was giggly and skipped where she stood.

You studied your friend; maybe the band really was good.

You helped Hoseok carry out a few errands in the café until the time of the show, when he waved you away just as Siyeon arrived, her hand clawing at yours to drag you to the very front of the stage.

Not a lot of people had shown up, considering it was a concert show but the café was fuller than you had ever seen it.

Your sides pressed against the people who were clamoring to get to the stage as well, who probably listened to the band. Siyeon won the battle though as you both emerged, triumphant just as the curtain fluttered, signaling movement backstage.

“It’d be so cool to meet them after this. I got the special VIP passes from Hoseok.” Siyeon muttered into your ear.

You grinned at your friend as lights fell and Siyeon fell silent beside you, finally finding some peace.

It was a band of six members; you counted, watching them take their respective positions and instruments. What you found strange was that each of them had a hood of some thick material on.

You watched as the tallest man raised his hands to the microphone while Hoseok pulled out a megaphone from the counter, announcing the band.

“That’s the key, their bulletproof hoods. It means they are faceless guardians of their fans.”

“Deep,” you returned, clapping politely as the café broke into applause, signaling the band to reach up and pull off their hoods in synchrony, the last member, at the microphone doing it slower and more dramatic that the others.

Your clapping stopped immediately.

It was your stranger!

The tallest man standing right at the front of your best friend’s favorite band was the kind man who had decided to pull you away from a reckless position and listened to your ranting when he had zero obligations to.

You slowly lowered your hands and your head, trying to duck back into the crowds. Siyeon’s hand immediately gripped onto you.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting her to get suspicious as your stranger spoke up.

“Hey Armors! How are we tonight?” he crowed, amid hoots and screams of replies. The man at the drums, with muscles bulging through his sleeveless vest raised his stick to show a cut and the crowds went silent as the opening strums of a guitar, played by a smaller man flowed through the café.

By the time the second song finished, you had to admit to yourself, they were very good.

The angst in their voice, bled into the surroundings while the passion of the more upbeat songs even lifted you enough to bounce just a bit.

Siyeon cast you a sly grin. “Knew you’d like them, you just had to listen.” She said.

You ignored her, choosing to focus on the lead singer of the band, your stranger.

His hair was even messier now, probably artistic disruption, and his face mask and scarf was completely gone, leaving him in a tight black full sleeve with small rips revealing hints of creamy skin.

His eyes were closed as he hit a high pitch with enviable ease and spun the microphone in his hand, the words of the hypnotic effect of vice passing through your ears like cotton candy from his silver voice.

You were hypnotized alright and you had no confusion as to what vice it was for.

The man tapped his foot at the start of the drum sequence, the plush lips turning up in a broad smile as he looked to the audience and met your eyes.

You stilled immediately, finding yourself stuck to the ground as his eyes widened in recognition before crinkling as his smile intensified.

He waved. He actually waved; a small flutter of his fingers around the stand, easily mistakable for a simple gesture but you knew it was meant for you.

You smiled back politely, nodding as he resumed singing, but his eyes drew to yours more often now.

You had no reason to, but you absolutely blushed and you more than liked it.

The concert reached its end well past midnight, with Siyeon convincing you to spend the night at hers when she spoke up.

“So, I noticed you and Kim Seokjin having a moment during the show.” She said.

You slowed in your steps. “Seokjin,” you questioned.

She nodded. “The lead singer, he was eyeing you up and I saw you smile up at him.” she said.

I shrugged, filing away the name, “It was just some meaningless interaction, nothing more.” You told her as she led you to the office at the back of the café, repurposed to serve as a backstage for Bulletproof.

She knocked on the door and Hoseok opened it. “You are the only ones,” he advised, pulling the door open wider to let you and Siyeon in, “Don’t annoy them too much Siyeon.” He warned, earning an indignant smack from her which he dodged.

“Guys, this is Siyeon and Y/N.” he pointed you out. “Siyeon’s the one begging for your show here, huge fan. Y/N’s our best friend.” He said walking to the six boys who nodded to you.

“Hey, I’m Jimin, the prettiest of the group.” The shorter boy with the acoustic guitar spoke up, earning eye rolls from the rest.

“Yeah, right,” the taller one beside him said.

You watched as Siyeon went up to each member, quickly getting surrounded by the members as your own eyes went to the far corner, finding dark eyes already on you.

A shock of thrill went through you as Kim Seokjin peeled himself from the wall and joined you in your corner.

“Y/N,” Seokjin greeted you with a nod.

“Mr. Kim Seokjin,” you replied, feeling a smile bloom across your face as his own broke out.

“Found out about me, huh?” he asked quietly.

“Siyeon is a huge fan,” you explained and he nodded again, both of you watching your friend mingle easily with his members.

“What about you?” he asked curiously.

You shrugged.

“I’ve heard a few of your songs but my life hasn’t been exactly affording me to pursue any hobbies or obsessions.” You reminded him.

Seokjin smirked a little at that.

“Are we worthy of being your obsession, Miss Y/N?” he whispered.

You blinked, turning to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Surely he wasn’t flirting with you?

“Well, you were pretty…good up there.” You said, trying not to acknowledge the heat flaring in your neck.

“Hmm,” Seokjin looked like he was going to say something else when a hoot went through the group near you.

“Y/N! The boys are taking us for drinks!” Siyeon called and her eyes squinted when she saw you standing with Seokjin before her pursed lips quivered; the tell-tales of a grin threatening on her face.

She’s probably planning your wedding already; your mind told you and looked shyly up at Seokjin.

“Oyo, Jin! You in?” The man who had sassed Jimin earlier called.

You felt Seokjin nudge you a little as he raised a hand to mime ‘ok’ with his fingers.

The small bar the band took you, Siyeon and Hoseok to, was small and quaint, just like them, the tall one who you found out was Taehyung, explaining to you that this was the place where they had started performing from.

It had a special place in their hearts.

Your friends had quickly blended in with the setting of the hyped band, ordering their drinks as stories were swapped and they divulged about how Namjoon, the lyricist was friends with Hoseok from their school days.

Seokjin stuck close to you, keeping the story of your meeting him under careful wraps. You had to thank him for that later, there was no way Siyeon would let you live peacefully if she found out the circumstances of your and Seokjin’s first meet.

“I can feel you trying to back out. Are you ok?” He asked suddenly, making you jump a little.

You smiled as you turned to him. “I’m fine, Seokjin. I just had a long day today.” Your words were heavy with implication and despite himself Seokjin grinned mischievously. “I hope you’re not going to be leaning over any subway platforms?” he lowered his voice a little.

You shivered a little from the sudden change in the timbre of his voice.

“I’m not. Siyeon is making me stay with her so for the time being, I’m safe from the threat of accidental deaths.” You told him.

Seokjin nodded, backing away a little as you and him turned away from the conversation completely, the bubble you were in with him seeming way more inviting.

“I was surprised you were in the crowds today. I didn’t think you were a fan when you didn’t scream so I was even more surprised to see you visited us backstage.” He said.

You nodded to Siyeon’s bobbing head. “She’s the reason I was there at all. She literally adores you lot. Plus she doesn’t like me being alone so she keeps dragging me everywhere.” You shook your head fondly.

“I’m glad. I’m happy that you kept her company.” He said, eyes intense again as he stared at you.

You bite your lip, eyeing him right back.

“I’m glad as well; you’re one intriguing man, Seokjin.”

“Jin,” he corrected gently, raising a finger to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear, “How is that?”

You leant in dangerously close, his eyes sparking just a little at your proximity. “You listen. Your songs are a reflection of what you’ve all heard in your lives and it’s so precious that you consider yourselves guardians. Not a lot of musicians do that.” You whispered.

Jin turned his head, taking a swig from the beer bottle and your eyes were drawn to the way his lips wrapped around the lip of the bottle, pressing and pulling against each other.

You clenched your fist tight. What else could he do with that mouth?

Jin glanced at you with a smile as if he knew exactly what were you thinking.

“I’d be happy to show you.”

You froze, had you fucking spoken out loud?

You spluttered around the pathetic excuse you were about to offer when he turned to you fully, a hand pressing to the other side so that he was basically caging you in. His head dipped so he could look you fully in the eyes, tongue sneaking out to lick at the plush petals of his lips.

“Y/N,” he spoke, low and urgent, “I don’t usually do this, but…do you want to get out of here? Go back to my place, maybe? I promise to get you back tomorrow.” He said.

You gaped up at him, the bold proposal processing slowly in your mind.

Did he actually just? Yes, he did. You glanced at Siyeon and Hoseok, both too engrossed in their conversation to glance at you.

“You want me to spend the night with you?” you checked in stupidly and Jin grinned cheekily.

“You can do more than that, if you want, but yes.” He teased.

Maybe it was the lowered inhibitions from the intake of the alcohol but you found yourself nodding your head eagerly.

You were surprised by a lot that night.

You were surprised when Siyeon happily let you leave with Seokjin; a man you’d only met that day, only hours before to her knowledge.

You were surprised when Jin chivalrously held open the door of the cab he’d ordered, hand remaining near your thigh for the ride over to his place but never quite touching you under the potential eye of the driver.

What you weren’t surprised by was the fact that even as he led you up his apartment complex, decent but not too large, you’d pressed up against him almost immediately, feeling his warmth through the slits in his clothes, shameless as you ran a palm down the expanse of his chest.

Jin grabbed your wandering hand as it drifted near his abdomen.

“Patience, there are cameras in this.” He warned, darting a cautioning eye towards the dratted red dot and you pouted up at it, Jin almost cooing at the puffy cheeks on you, your lips pursing adorably.

It was pretty obvious what was on your mind and he had full intentions of giving it to you. Despite his cool front, you could tell even he was getting impatient, the way his thumb drummed against the metal walls and his eyes fixed on the digital display of floors, a small crease in between his eyebrows.

“Almost there,” Jin intoned but you had no idea if he was talking to you or just mentally bracing himself when the door opened at last.

The hand Jin had placed against the elevator wall immediately found your back, quickly ushering you out into the hallway and against a wall beside the first door on the right.

You had barely any time to let out a gasp before his mouth was on yours, sloppy and a little off aim as he fumbled through his pockets, trying to kiss you through the search for his house keys.

“Aha,” he said, pulling out a single silver key on a black leather keychain emblazoned with the Band insignia. Sliding an arm around your waist, his other hand slipped the key into the slot, turning it as he opened the door, letting you go in first while he turned a light switch on beside you on the wall.

Jin seemed to press pause as you looked around the living room, viewing his space. It was fairly large but his furniture seemed to be cramped beside all the musical instruments he’d stocked up on.

Various guitars lay near the TV stand, sheet music piled on the coffee table and a rather large keyboard took up most of the sofa.

“Not all of the mess is mine,” Jin chuckled nervously behind you. “The guys find it comfier to just crash here when we work so all their stuff just stays here.”

If you had to be guessing you’d probably bet he was sobering up. Almost all your drunken brazenness had faded off anyway and you wondered if he would regret bringing you here and showing you this.

“I like it.” you told him firmly, turning to face him.

Jin’s face seemed extra youthful in the dim lighting as he stared at you, looking for any signs of deception but smiled broadly when he found none. His eyes quickly went to the sofa as he reached for you, large hands gripping the plush curves of your hips, pulling you tighter to him.

“I would entertain you here but um…bedroom?” he asked, an upward quirk to his lips.

You followed his glance to the preoccupied sofa and grinned, unable to help reaching up and placing a soft kiss to his lips. “Bedroom,” you agreed.

Jin swung your hands between you, leading you to one of the doors in the back. You clearly heard him mutter. “Gonna ask the guys to clean this shit up tomorrow.”

Jin’s bedroom was better.

A soft lamp was on in the corner and there were no instruments here. The dressers were dustless, the closet door shut and the bed looked clean.

“Much better,” he sighed before pulling you further in, his lips finding yours again.

You kissed him back for a few minutes, pulling away when he pushed away. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“No,” you said, grabbing his face to tug him in again.

“Thirsty?” he pulled away again.

Shaking your head, he allowed you to kiss his again, pushing him towards his bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress.

You grunted in annoyance when he pulled away het again.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” he asked and you frowned up at him.

“I would never have come with you if I didn’t want to, now shut up and kiss me.” You gritted your teeth.

“Yes ma’am,” Jin smirked before finally putting his mouth on you, full lips tugging at yours as he sat down, your head hovering over his.

Your hands wandered over his shirt, the tight fabric making it easier for you to trace over his prominent muscles. Jin pulled you onto his lap, his back flexing with the movement as you strategically placed yourself over the slight bulge in his black jeans. Even with the barest of erections you could tell he was big.

You sunk the blunt edge of your teeth into the pillow of his lower lip, even as his hand slid over your ass. He gasped, hand rearing back to place a quick smack to your covered cheek.

“Freaky, are we?” he mumbled, spinning you to lie on the bed, standing up. He walked over to the dresser, bringing back something silvery which he dropped on the bed, pulling off his shirt.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, raking your eyes ravenously down his figure.

He wasn’t disgustingly muscled, the airbrushed ones you saw on gym banners always a turn off. Instead he was smoother, the planes of his body proportionate and begging for a rake of nails.

His stomach seemed to clench as he brought his arms down to slip off the long sleeves, eyes on you.

“Like what you see?” he grinned.

You returned the broad smirk. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I just wouldn’t want to disappoint you to run to the subway again.”

You groaned. “I told you, I was just running late.”

You were sure to be going on a rant again but Seokjin cut you off as he climbed onto the bed on all fours, leaving his pants on as his larger body covered yours.

“You ramble on a lot you know,” he murmured against your lips.

“Then shut me up,” you suggested with a pointed glance downwards and Jin’s eyebrows went up.

“Definitely freaky,” he commended, straightening up and undoing his belt, slipping it out of the loops and dropping it on the floor behind him with a dull clunk.

His fingers made quick work of his button and zipper, letting you barely peak at the band of his underwear.

“Get naked,” he said simply, rolling to the side as he began to shimmy out of the tight pants. You’d have found it funny, the way he sighed and let out tiny grunts as he worked the pants off if you weren’t so focused on getting out of your own clothes.

By the time you were done sliding the silk skirt Siyeon had put on you off your legs, Jin had successfully taken everything off – albeit nearly falling on his face once or twice (thrice), thanks to his pants.

You had been right, he was big, thrillingly so. His large palm wrapped around it gently, tugging and rotating his wrist near the head, a pearl of precum visible as you crawled closer to him.

“Still want me to shut you up?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, chancing a look up at him to see his hooded expression, thick brows furrowed as he carded a hand carefully through your hair with his free hand, turning it at the base so he was clutching a bunch of it. He pulled you to him, an authoritative tug at the base of your head, brandishing his cock near your lips.

You mouthed against the length of sheathed heat, feeling him pulse at the feel of your soft mouth near his head. You avoided the small drip, choosing to press kisses to the skin near the base, flicking a teasing tongue under the shaft. Jin jolted over you, not expecting the sudden move and he smiled dopily at you.

“Don’t fucking tease.” He growled; his face angelic and you obeyed, finally taking over and taking matters into your own hands, literally.

Your hand glided over his skin, the softer friction of your skin making him let out a relieved sigh.

“Lean back,” you ordered, lowering your mouth so you could take the head in your mouth just a few inches in, his glans heavy against your tongue. Jin obeyed, with a whine, strong hands supporting his weight as he stayed balanced on his knees, small jerks of his hips trying to push his length further in your mouth.

He finally succumbed, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to press you further down till you could feel him slipping into the back of your throat. You gagged, saliva pooling from your mouth onto him, dripping down his member before he was letting you go, letting you pull up for air.

A string of drool broke off when you sat back up, prompting you to wipe it off.

You grinned proudly, watching Jin’s expression fade from scrunched to stony again as he pushed you back till your head was on his pillows.

You parted your legs immediately, closing your eyes to calm yourself. It had been a while since you had done this with anyone. What with your studies and your work barely letting you breathe, you had no time for dating or hook ups. You had to thank Siyeon for more than just a night out.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You heard Jin ask quietly.

Your eyes opened, smiling when Jin hefted your leg over his waist, condom on now, bending over you with narrowed eyes. Humor glinted deep within his dark irises.

“Nope, I’m just, trying to remember what to do. It’s been a while.” You joked.

Jin opened his mouth, most likely to comment on your statement but stopped when he realized you were being honest.

“Wait, seriously? It’s been a while? Because basing on how you just blew me, I’d say otherwise.” He said.

You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at how he was trying to make you feel better. It was sweet…hilarious but sweet.

“I’m fine, just get in me.” You urged, your hands grabbing his shoulder to pull him further.

“Ok, ok,” he amended, a light smirk visible in the corners of his mouth as he slid home.

Your eyes widened even as he let out a loud grunt, face scrunching again. He was…so big.

“I’ll agree that it’s been a while. You’re so damn tight…and so wet,” Jin placed his hands on either side of your face, eyes closed as he stilled deep within you.

“You’re just inhumanly big.” You retorted but he only took it as a compliment, eyes flickering open as he laughed down at you.

“I am, aren’t I?” He pulled his hips back till only the head remained inside you, pushing back even slower. “Am I the biggest you’ve had?”

His pace didn’t help you at all; your back arching. Jin was hitting all your spots, his slowness ensuring that you knew he was there but that you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by pleasure just yet.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I was. You look like you’re going to come already and I haven’t done much at all.” Another drag of his hips…

Jin placed a hand on your naked breast, kneading it as goose bumps rose up on your skin, the barest brush of pleasurable sparks lighting you up.

“I didn’t eat you out, didn’t finger you open, no prep at all but you won’t need any of that will you? My cock is enough, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you whined, hands fisting in your hair as he pulled out once again, this time completely, leaving you bereft and empty.

A keening wail was bubbling at the tip of your tongue, outrage at being left alone boiling in your veins when you felt the edges of his hair tickle the inside of your thigh.

Your eyes flew open, your elbows pushing you up to see Jin’s eyes fixed on you, his plush lips wrapped around your clit, his smirk visible even as he sucked languidly on your engorged nub.

You wanted to scream, especially when Jin winked, offering you a hand to hold near your stomach and the other cupping the underside of your breast, thumb flicking over your peaking nipple in time with his tongue.

Just as suddenly as if had begun, it was over, Jin surfacing in your hazy vision, your juices glistening on his lips.

“Sorry, I was just curious and you didn’t disappoint.” He lowered to kiss you again, his tongue pushing into dance with your. Your legs were feeling too heavy or you would’ve wrapped them around him.

Thankfully, he had the same idea as he reached down for your calf, hiking a leg up around his hip as entered you again, this time with a rough, brutal thrust.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m done with teasing. I wanna feel you creaming on me.” He growled, veins bulging in his neck as he braced a hand near your head while the other wrapped around your cheek, keeping you face to face with him.

Your whines grew louder with each thrust, the bed frame creaking under you with the movement of his bulk.

Jin took full advantage of your opened mouth, a thick thumb slipping past the seal to press down on your tongue, your mouth clamping down on it reflexively.

“Suck on it, baby,” he encouraged and you obeyed, eyeing him as innocently as you could. His eyes examined your expression with something akin to torment.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling the digit out to travel his hand down the length of your body, locating your clit easily as he thumbed the button. That definitely made you scream, a short cry of his name echoing around his room as you felt the ball of pleasure implode in you, shattering your very core. “Don’t look at me like that, Y/N, you’ll make me,”

Jin never got to finish his sentence, his voice stuttering out as he felt you convulse around you so violently that the tight seal around his cocked milked him even before he could stop himself.

He let out a similar yell, head falling back as he tried to cope with the power of the sudden orgasms you both went through.

Lips found his in a sloppy kiss, his head following it down to the pillow you were on; tongues lazy now that you were both boneless.

Jin rolled off of you, his miraculously still hard cock slipping out of you, the condom drenched in your cum.

“Wow that was a new one. I’ve never come without knowing I was going to. Fuck,” Jin dragged a large palm down his face, chortling tiredly.

You stared up at the ceiling, your ragged breaths so loud that Jin actually turned to you in concern. “Y/N…Y/N? Hello, still there?” He brushed back your hair, looking into your listless eyes as you slowly returned to earth, letting him turn your face to his.

“Yeah, yes, I’m just…wow.” You muttered.

Jin laughed openly now, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bet you won’t be thinking of jumping off subway platforms now that you know me.”

“Oh my god, Seokjin!” You groaned in answer.

#jin smut #jin fluff #jin fanfic #jin scenario #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts scenario #bts jin #kim seokjin #jin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #bangtan smut #backstage passes

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years

Text

Decryption_Error: “Undecided”

Summary: Now that the incident in the server room is becoming a distant memory for everyone at CIStech, indecision plagues Y/N as she tries to figure out just what she wants from Elliot. The real question, of course, is what does Elliot want?

Story Summary, “The Server Room, Part I”, “The Server Room, Part II” “The Long Weekend, Part I”, “The Long Weekend, Part II”, “The Aftermath”

Word Count: 5000

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @hopplessdreamer @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @alottanothing @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley

If you want added, let me know.

Warning: Tiny mention of something R-rated toward the end

By Thursday, the office felt normal, and I was once again left to marvel at how quickly things could snap back into place. People just . . . moved on. They continued to run their daily programs and despite a hiccup in the system, they hit reboot and it was back to normal runtime.

I was no different.

Yesterday was spent looking through the applicant pool, and I had found a few good candidates. I wanted to compile a final list by the end of the day and set interviews for next week. In another two or three weeks, it would be like Julia, Aaron, and Maurice had never even existed in the world of CIStech.

DELETE 10211291.11181514.1312118935.DSET1 PURGE

<Execution_Complete>

Elliot was just as intrigued by people’s willingness to forget a traumatic event. While Tuesday night’s text conversation lasted a long time, the subject matter stayed pretty light. But on Wednesday, we ended up texting a lot about people’s reactions to what went down.

I hadn’t been sure if Tuesday night’s texts were an anomaly until my phone buzzed at exactly 7:00 pm, the same time I had texted Elliot the night before. I actually laughed out loud a little, figuring Elliot was playing it safe by repeating a previously rewarding behavior pattern.

On Wednesday, I had again left work much earlier than usual so I could head uptown to meet my father. He had asked me weeks ago to attend a benefit with him, and I had almost forgotten about it until he called to remind me in the morning. I used my lunch hour to run home and grab a dress and a pair of shoes. I was really looking forward to seeing Dad because I wanted to decompress—if there was anyone in the world I could vent my feelings to, it was him.

When he caught me smiling at my phone and trying to sneak a text without appearing rude, he told me to have Edwin, his driver, take me home and come back for him later.

“I love you, Dad,” I said as he hugged me tight.

“I want to meet the young man who makes you smile like that, sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled at my dad’s good intention.

“If only it were that simple,” I said as the elevator doors opened.

He put his hands in his pockets and gave me a long look as the doors closed. I knew he worried I worked too much and abandoning my entire family over Memorial Day weekend did not alleviate his concern one bit. Nor did it help when I finally explained the work emergency that pulled me away.

But for the second night in a row, I found myself texting until my eyes blurred. When Elliot and I said good night, I set my alarm and immediately fell asleep, something that rarely ever happened. I felt like I could breathe freely again. Elliot didn’t seem to be harboring any ill feelings about being reprimanded, so when he and I ended up running into each other in the lobby on Thursday morning, I smiled brightly when I saw him.

We said our bland good mornings as we got on the elevator, then I asked if he had any plans for after work. When he said no, I pulled out my phone and texted him to ask if he wanted to come over.

He glanced at the other people in the elevator who were staring sleepily at the buttons of the passing floors and gave me a tiny smile before nodding yes.

I smiled back and as the elevator doors opened on our floor, he stood back to let me exit before he hurried out and grabbed the door to the office. I thanked him and we went our separate ways for the workday.

Around quitting time, there was a light tap on my door frame, and I looked up to see Elliot, his eyes alert, scanning over the room and not quite willing to focus on me yet.

“Hey—come in,” I said, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face at the sight of him.

He shuffled in, his hands thrust in his pockets.

“I need to run an errand. Will you be here . . . or should I . . .” Elliot trailed off as his eyes desperately searched mine, his own mind clearly wondering if he had imagined our conversation in the elevator.

“I’m planning on working until around 7. Do you just want to meet at that deli on Platt around 7:15? We can get a bite to eat there, then head back to my place?”

“Sure,” Elliot said in his trademark monotone, immediately turning on his heel and exiting my office.

I just shook my head and chuckled, thinking, Sure, Dad. Meet my painfully awkward boyfriend, Elliot.

Boyfriend.

My mouth went dry as indecision began to beat its ugly staccato within my mind.

What did I really want?

Even more difficult to answer, what did Elliot really want?

A kiss in a heated moment was a lot less demanding of someone than asking them to be with you. And it was Elliot—did he even date? Despite all of our after-work conversations, we never really talked about romantic interests. It just wasn’t something that came up.

I continued to plug away at my analytics, hoping to drown out my thoughts about Elliot. I was about to see him outside of work again, and I would just have to test the waters, which was a scary prospect. If I pushed and Elliot wasn’t ready, I could knock over the foundation we had been so carefully building.

* * * * *

Elliot was waiting for me at the deli, so we grabbed a quiet, quick bite. By the time we reached my apartment and Elliot was standing in my entryway, shucking off his backpack, it was about 8:15 pm.

After he slid off his backpack, he bent to rummage around, and he pulled out my Columbia t-shirt.

I shook my head no.

“Keep it. I like knowing you have something of mine and that maybe, just maybe, you’re wearing it,” I said with a flirty grin.

“Okay,” Elliot said with a shrug as he stuffed the shirt back into his bag.

“Besides. You look good in white,” I said, knowing I couldn’t be deterred by one ignored comment. Elliot was wicked smart and could read people, but that ability seemed to diminish as he got closer to someone. I wondered if maybe that was why he kept his distance from most people—it made him feel too vulnerable.

Elliot looked at me, clearly determining whether or not I was joking.

“And you say I can’t take a compliment,” I huffed.

“You can’t,” Elliot said, seizing the shift in the conversation that would allow him to have the upper hand. “Your legs look good in that skirt,” he said as his eyes looked at me from top to bottom.

I narrowed my own eyes and replied, “Now see. I don’t know if you mean that or if you said it just to get me to say I don’t think it’s genuine, thus proving your point.”

Elliot chuckled. “Point proven. You can’t take a compliment.”

“Such an ass,” I said, smiling. “I should take back my meticulously planned evening.”

“Planned? So, this wasn’t just a random invitation?”

“God no. I have to mentally prepare for all my interactions with you,” I blurted out before realizing how terrible that sounded.

Sometimes it really was a blessing Elliot thought so much before he spoke so I could retract my foot-in-mouth statement, but unfortunately, his face was an open book. I could see the beginnings of hurt twist his features, so I rushed an explanation.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. Just in an ‘I think about you a lot’ way. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and have you look at me kinda like you’re looking at me now. Okay?”

Elliot’s brows contracted before he visibly turned his face back into an unreadable mask. It was remarkable to watch—like he just flipped a switch and turned off his emotion.

He nodded, but I could tell he already assigned a negative meaning to my words. I hadn’t meant it that way, but it was exhausting interacting with him at times. I still felt like I was taking one step forward, creeping along nicely, and then boom. I scared him and he bolted and we were ten steps behind where we started.

At least my indecision about pursuing a relationship with him was pretty damn warranted.

“I’m going to change,” I said. “It’s hot as fuck outside, so you may want to put on my t-shirt if you’re not wearing one under your dress shirt.”

“We’re going outside?”

“Yup!” I said, shooting him a grin.

Elliot looked at me with suspicion, but I shook my head and took off down the hall toward my bedroom. I dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, and I slid into some flip-flops. I pulled my hair up, knowing it wouldn’t survive any more time than it already had outdoors.

I walked back out to the living room, but Elliot was nowhere to be seen. I had just enough time to wonder if I really had scared him off before he emerged from the bathroom wearing tight black jeans and my white Columbia t-shirt.

“After last Friday, I decided to keep a change of clothes in my backpack.”

“Smart,” I said, eyeing the way his jeans clung to his thighs before sliding my eyes up to his face to appreciate how the tan tone of his skin was emphasized next to the white cotton of my t-shirt.

“Can I have another clue? I don’t really like surprises.”

“Mmmmm, no,” I said, enjoying my facetiousness. “Although, I did give you a clue earlier this week.”

Elliot’s eyes moved around my apartment as he thought back, and then, his face lit up.

“S’mores,” he said with a tiny timbre of excitement in his tone as his eyes connected with mine.

“Clever kitten,” I said as I started pulling out the supplies we had bought over the weekend.

“They won’t be as good as they’d be over a real bonfire, but a charcoal grill will serve the purpose.”

We headed up to the rooftop, which was delightfully empty given there was no special occasion and the work week was still droning on. I used my key to get out the charcoal grill’s supplies from the storage on the roof.

Despite telling Elliot to sit on the couch and relax, he hovered, watching everything I did.

“And now we wait,” I said as I prodded the coals with my tongs, encouraging them to catch. “The more they burn down, the better the taste.”

I plopped on the white couch and looked toward the setting sun. Elliot joined me and we slowly built up to a steady conversation. Away from people and when he was comfortable, Elliot talked a lot. It was almost comical to think of the juxtaposition housed within his lithe little body—it was like two people lived inside of him, one of them plagued by insecurities, and the other, just a normal guy, or rather, a guy who could just about pass for normal if it weren’t for his intellect.

Elliot wasn’t just knowledgeable about computers. He kept up with the news. He had keen insights about society. And he even liked to read the classics, or really just about any book he got his hands on.

But work was the easiest and safest topic for both of us since that was the baseline for our friendship. I finally asked Elliot how he was doing as the dust began to settle, eager to hear his thoughts in person instead of from behind the safety of a screen.

“It’s weird,” Elliot began before he broke eye contact to gather his thoughts. “People are nicer to me, or at least they seem to be going out of their way to talk to me.”

“Colin is treating you alright?” I asked, curious if he was going to be an asshole about the whole thing.

“It was him, wasn’t it? He insisted on the letter,” Elliot finished with a statement, not a question.

I was quiet for a moment, warring with myself about whether I should say anything or not. It was an HR issue, and those could be tricky, but who would Elliot tell? What damage could come from talking to the one guy who was never going to tell anyone anything?

“I know you would never say anything, but I have to say this to make myself feel better—you can’t repeat anything I say about the . . . incident.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows at me and nodded.

“Yes, it was Colin. He’s kind of a “bro,” I explained, my hands rising to make quote marks in the air. “And since you’re totally not that kind of guy, he has no even ground with you—you’re smarter than him and he can’t deal with that.”

“What makes you describe him as a “bro?” Elliot said, imitating my earlier air-quotes.

“Mmm . . . he loves every sport, plays basketball with some of the guys in the company on Saturdays. He has that arrogance about him, that unwarranted arrogance that a guy who enjoys showing off just how much of a guy he is has. He used to run every day before work and he’d come upstairs all sweaty—and I mean sweaty as in looking like he’d just gone swimming sweaty—and he’d just go “freshen up” in his office. It grossed me out so much I flat-out offered to comp him if he took time to shower at the gym and was late for work. After that, he didn’t come to work sweaty anymore. Don’t get me wrong—woo! Fitness! But gross,” I said, wrinkling my nose just remembering what he looked like and smelled like.

“Every sport?”

“As far as I know—I do think he has season tickets to the Knicks, though. When he first started working for us, he asked me to a game,” I said, volunteering the information to see what Elliot would do with it.

Nothing, of course.

“I did notice he has a Mets pennant in his office,” Elliot said, more to himself than to me.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Like I said, he’s a dude. Or he at least wants everyone to know he’s a dude.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

“No. And I think that’s why he’s been extra Colin-y lately. He has a son with his ex.”

“What’s his name?” Elliot asked, quickly.

“You’re asking a lot from me because I don’t typically store information that has no relevance to myself. It’s something like Chris or Chuck or Chad?”

Elliot nodded.

“Would you want him to go—I mean, if you had a choice? Would you want Colin to leave CIStech?”

I chewed at my bottom lip a little, really considering Elliot’s question.

“I don’t know. That’s a hard question to answer. What I can tell you is that I wish I could clone JaLeah. She’s just a superfreak of an awesome person. I’ve never really met anyone as smart and dynamic as she is—she just makes everyone feel so welcome.”

“I think she’s funny,” Elliot said.

“Really?” I said smiling and arching my brow. “That’s interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“I just wouldn’t have thought you would think about something like that.”

“That’s kind of insulting,” Elliot said, his voice flat and unreadable. “I do enjoy humor now and then.”

I shook my head and chuckled.

“See? I keep learning new things about you?”

“You told me I intrigued you, and that you have to figure out people who intrigue you.”

I reached out and poked at Elliot’s thigh, gently prodding.

“Is there a recording device you’re using to play back every conversation we’ve ever had?”

“I listen,” Elliot said, smiling. “Especially when people intrigue me.”

I looked at Elliot and there was a smile in his eyes even though there wasn’t one on his lips. I felt like I could drown in his grey, stormy eyes when they sparkled, housing the mischief he never really let anyone see.

Our eyes locked, intensely focused on one another for a long enough time that it made me look away, almost embarrassed. I felt sure he could see my interest, naked and wanting before him, but he just didn’t make a move—either to look away or to move closer. Just . . . nothing.

“Alright—let’s get our smores prepped,” I said, getting up to reach for the bag of groceries on the table.

As the sun set and the lights on the rooftop flickered on, Elliot and I made our smores. We laughed, well I laughed, especially when he caught his marshmallow on fire and waved the toaster fork causing the marshmallow to propel into one of the rooftop trees. He looked like a dark-haired version of Denis the Menace, and I had tears in my eyes at the expression of horror on Elliot’s face as his marshmallow went sailing.

I positioned his fork over the coals for the next round and he attentively turned the marshmallow, refusing to even take his eyes off of it until it was perfectly browned on all sides.

“Your hands are healing quickly,” I commented.

“Thanks to you,” Elliot said sheepishly, shooting me a quick smile before returning his gaze to his marshmallow.

After we ate our fill of s’mores, we got comfy on the couch as we waited for the charcoal to burn down until it was safe to leave for the night.

We didn’t talk as much, but relaxed, enjoying each other’s presence, and I sat in the middle instead of on the end so I could test the waters, occasionally brushing a light touch to Elliot’s jeans or his bare arm, and he even reciprocated some of those furtive touches as he poked fun at me, teasing me for my inability to keep the plots of all three of the Back to the Future movies straight.

Eventually I sighed, knowing it was getting late and I didn’t want Elliot getting back to his neighborhood too late. We gathered up the left-over groceries and I shouldered my tote bag.

We said goodbye in my doorway, and Elliot moved in to hug me tight. We lingered for a moment, but he moved away and quickly pressed the elevator button. I watched him get on and we waved goodnight, a small smile ghosting across his lips as the doors closed.

I shut the door to my apartment and leaned back, thunking my head against it.

Purgatory. I was stuck in indecision-purgatory. Elliot was never, ever going to make the first move. If I wanted our relationship to shift, I’d have to do it, but it felt wrong. I was the one in the position of power. It would make more sense if Elliot made the first move so I wouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage of him.

Why did this have to be so fucking complicated?

* * * * *

The next two weeks proceeded much in the same fashion. Elliot and I texted nightly, and once or twice a week, I’d invite him over. We’d come dangerously close to kissing, but then he’d just leave.

I dropped as many hints as I could, especially about workplace romances. I talked about how Miles (my boss) and Jayne (my secretary) had gotten together, hoping Elliot would pick up on the comparison.

If he did, he never said a word.

So, my fear of losing him as a friend left me to continue writhing in indecision. I loved how close Elliot and I were getting, and if I scared him by moving too quickly, I’d lose the first good friend I’d made in a long time.

And what was really funny was that I was certain if I talked to Elliot about this, he’d get it. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Little did I know, fate was about to lend a hand; it was just too bad that fate was such a fucking bitch.

* * * * *

“You can’t be serious!” I laughed, finishing the last of my drink.

JaLeah nodded with emphasis, and we all burst into a fresh round of laughter.

Friday happy hours were always a fun way to wind down from the work week. We had a nice mix of people who went regularly and it was well known I always bought the first two rounds. People like Miles, singularly focused climbers, always underestimated the power of building relationships. That was one of the reasons why what happened with Elliot had stuck with me—I thought I had a better team than that.

People did seem to be closer now, more inclusive. There were several new faces at tonight’s gathering, and as I listened to the chatter around me, my thoughts drifted to one particularly attractive face that was not here. People’s voices became background noise as I thought about Elliot and I felt myself wishing he were here. I knew he’d hate every second of it, but he really was, albeit inadvertently, the reason for tonight’s greater sense of comradery.

Sometimes, I truly did believe the universe revolved around me, but only so it could fuck me over for one hell of a laugh. Just as I was a million thoughts deep into Elliot, he walked in through the door, close on the heels of Sarah, his hands shoved in his pockets. When he got inside, his big eyes found mine almost immediately and as I coughed, choking a little on my drink, JaLeah looked to see what distracted me.

Her grin was wolfish.

“Don’t say it,” I warned, my voice low so as not to draw the attention of the others at our high-top table.

“I cannot believe he came,” JaLeah said, drawing attention because even when she believed she was whispering, she never was.

“Holy shit—Elliot’s here,” someone said from a few seats down.

“Don’t make a big deal,” I said in their direction as I watched Sarah and Elliot make their way across the bar to our tables.

Elliot ran a hand through his hair as his eyes glanced around as if he were checking for exits. More than a few eyes gave him a once over as he approached and I felt a pull of jealousy. Logically, I knew people were looking at him more out of curiosity than anything else, but logic wasn’t my forte when it came to Elliot Alderson.

“Hey, everyone!” Sarah said, her smile bright and a bit nervous. “Look who I dragged out.”

Elliot gave the table a small smile as people said hello and a few who were a few drinks in gave a little whoop, which seemed to startle the small smile off of Elliot’s face.

JaLeah almost knocked me off my stool as she pushed me to stand.

“Elliot’s new, so he doesn’t know to cash in on Y/N’s generosity yet. Sarah—you can take my seat. What are you drinking?

“Gin and tonic, please!”

“You got it,” JaLeah said as she pushed Elliot and I toward the bar.

“Hey,” I said, once we were standing at the bar, our bodies pressed together thanks to the crowd.

“Hey,” Elliot said, his voice barely audible as he rested his hands on the edge of the bar, his fingers pressing into the hard surface.

“What can I get you to drink? I always buy the first two rounds for anyone at CIStech who shows up.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Vodka, cran. You want that?”

“Sure,” Elliot said, his eyes still refusing to settle on any one thing.

I reached over and rested my hand on his forearm.

“Are you sure you’re okay with being here?”

“Guess you can’t hold my hand all night this time,” Elliot said as his eyes flicked to mine.

I laughed.

“No, I suppose not. But, if you sit next to me, I’ll see what I can do,” I said as I winked at him.

Elliot smiled softly.

I put our drinks on my tab, along with Sarah’s. JaLeah had already dropped off Sarah’s drink and came back to say she was pirating the corner booth because our table was full and a few more people just showed up.

We followed JaLeah and I let Elliot scoot in before me. We crammed in and I shot Elliot a smirk as our bodies were forced to press nearer to each other. Elliot’s hand was fiddling with his drink until I reached down to pinch lightly at his outer thigh. His hand shot under the table and I gave it a squeeze before shooting him another look. He genuinely smiled as he realized we could hold hands without alerting anyone to our activities, except maybe JaLeah, but I wasn’t worried about her since she knew how I felt about Elliot without me ever having said a word.

As it turned out, the folks who joined us in our booth were good company. JaLeah kept the conversation light and fun, like always, and I could even feel the vibrations of Elliot’s chuckles on occasion.

“You know, JaLeah,” I began. “Elliot thinks you’re quite funny.”

JaLeah raised an eyebrow and said, “It’s about time people truly appreciated my wit, so thank you, baby.”

Elliot grinned at her, either because he’d had a few drinks or because he genuinely liked JaLeah, and said, “You could be a character in an Oscar Wilde play.”

The table laughed and one of the tech’s jumped on the reference to talk about the new play based on Wilde’s life that had just opened.

I leaned over, my lips dangerously close to Elliot’s ear, and said, “See? This isn’t so bad.”

Elliot’s pinky wrapped around my own and squeezed, and I gave him a sweet smile before turning back to the others.

It was one of those nights when people just seemed to be having a great time. We ordered appetizers. The waitress kept our drinks filled. The conversation never lulled, and bursts of laughter kept peppering the air. Before any of us knew it, it was 9:00 and a few people at our table started checking their phones with more frequency.

“Shit—I forgot my wife’s parents were in town. She’s gonna kill me,” Travis, one of JaLeah’s techs said.

“I told my boyfriend I’d be home an hour ago,” another tech said, giggling.

“It’s been a minute since we’ve had such a good night out,” JaLeah said. “See, Elliot? You should come more often.”

“It was cool to hang out,” Travis said. “You’re usually so intense at work—kinda like the big boss,” Travis finished with a chuckle.

I could feel Elliot’s fingers brush against mine. We had been playing this touching, not really, sometimes definitely, game all night and I was wet. I was appalled at myself for being so turned on just by proximity, but I couldn’t stop thinking what if this were normal? What if Elliot were mine? What if we went home together at the end of the night?

“There’s nothing wrong with taking work seriously,” I said, smiling. “That’s why I am the big boss.”

Travis and the others laughed.

We settled our bills and said our goodnights, but I noticed Sarah lingering at the door, clearly waiting for Elliot.

“I think we take the same line home,” she said smiling up at him as we reached her.

Elliot’s hands found their way into his pockets, the material of his dress shirt bunching a bit as he shoved them in.

“I take the 6,” Elliot stated, tension creeping into his voice.

JaLeah was giving out hugs like candy on Halloween, and I laughed to myself. She was such an extrovert, and I appreciated her energy on nights like this. The others slowly went in their separate directions as Elliot stayed close by, Sarah still talking.

“Great! We can ride together. It’s nice to have someone to talk to on the train at night. I forgot my earbuds this morning,” she said, chattering happily.

“Actually, Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to, uh, come back to my place...” Elliot said, his eyes focused intensely on mine.

I could feel JaLeah and Sarah, damn near open-mouthed and watching this exchange. I felt like I might throw up on my shoes for a minute and I was thankful the street was dark because I knew there was a blush coloring my cheeks. I thought quickly, and shook my head, my words tumbling out of my mouth.

“Oh! That bug—that bug you told me about. You wanted me to run the analytics on it. I’ll send you the pin for Team Viewer and we can do it this weekend—I gotta get home. Taking care of my neighbor’s cat. Probably out of food. Have a good night!” I said, grinning like a madwoman and telling myself that Elliot did not look like I just kicked him in the face.

I waved to the three of them and took off for my train, thankful it was in the opposite direction. I turned around to see Elliot and Sarah headed in the same direction. I almost tripped over my own foot as JaLeah jumped up and down and mouthed “What the fuck, Y/N?! What the fuck?!”

I shook my head, turned around, and doubled my steps. I felt sick to my stomach. Fate had just laid an opportunity bare, spread eagle on the floor, and I walked away.

By the time I jumped onto my train and collapsed into a seat, I was fighting back tears. The look on Elliot’s face haunted me. I really, really hurt him—and I wasn’t sure I could fix it this time.

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