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heavenlycloud · 7 months

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y/n and her *inability* to say no to kazuha~ a compilation

a/n: i’ve seen a lot of these compilation type fics circulating plus my youtube recommended always has at least one random compilation of something like this so i thought i’d give it a go here!

i tried my best to format this to be like one of those youtube videos. the bold text means it's a caption in the video.

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ⤹˚˖♬୭ ♡

y/n and her *inability* to say no to kazuha

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----˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹----✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧

intro: *automated voice*

hello everyone~ this is heavenlycloud. i just wanted to start off the video with saying that this is for joking purposes only, and i am not making assumptions about y/n and kazuha’s relationship. so please don’t doxx me or leave hate. okay lets get on with the video :)

*tv glitch screen*

clip one~ 🦊{when y/n went all the way back home to bring kazuha food even though she had plans}

“okay so i just have a lesson this morning and then i think i’m gonna go shopping? it’s my first free-ish day in weeks so i think i’m just gonna enjoy today alone.” you spoke to the video camera in english as you walked out of your dorm building. a loud buzz from your pocket grabbed your attention and you showed your phone to the camera, “zuha is calling me.”

you put the phone to your ear, “hello?” kazuha talked on the other line and you hummed along as she spoke before finishing, “unnie will get it for you zuha-yah. alright i’ll be there soon.” you both hummed before hanging up then you told the camera, “change in plans. zuha forgot she had a photoshoot today, and ordered food to pick up. but she’s getting ready and she won’t have time to get it. so now i’m gonna pick it up, and take it back to her… technically i think kkura unnie could have done it, but oh well.”

you continued filming until you got her food, then back to the dorm where she was waiting for you. the younger girl beamed as you handed her a bag with multiple small containers, “here you go. have a good day today. you’re beautiful! nakamura kazuha number one stunner!” you shouted out the last sentence in english prompting a laugh from the younger girl. she thanked you before you had to rush back outside to head to the company building.

clip two~ 🦢{y/n dropping $6k on kazuha just bc}

DAYOFF season 4 was in full swing since you and your members had worked tirelessly for the past few months. stadium concerts, award show performances, and a months worth of comeback promotions had you and the girls spent. thankfully, you all were given another opportunity for a mini vacation with filming another season of DAYOFF. technically speaking, you all were still working since it was youtube content, but you all were free to do as you pleased. for this season you all were in singapore, staying in a 5 star hotel with a stunning view of the city down below.

kazuha had mentioned she wanted to explore, and you’d suggested shopping which is how you all ended up in a seven floor shopping mall in the city. kazuha had entered with the mission of finding a new wallet, just something small and inexpensive that did it’s job. meanwhile, you were looking for a new handbag just because you’d grown tired of the same neutral colored bags you had. the two of you briefly looked in the Gucci and Dior stores but nothing caught your eye or kazuha’s. to be fair, she didn’t pay much attention to the bags the fashion advisor showed you since everything was out of her budget…by a long shot.

the last store you entered for yourself was Prada in hopes that they’d have a piece you’d actually like. you immediately found a line that caught your eye, and asked an associate to show you the options available currently. much to your surprise, kazuha was engaged with the entire interaction, marveling at the alabaster pink handbag and wallet you requested to see. the younger woman’s gaze lingered on a powder blue version of the wallet you were holding, so you told the associate to also bring it over too. kazuha gasped, “it’s so pretty, i like this style a lot too.” there was a teasing tone as kazuha joked, “you should get this for me.” this only intended to be a playful comment she usually made when shopping with yunjin when the two found something impractical, unsightly, or outrageously expensive compared to their budget. when you pulled the associate’s attention once more, kazuha sneakily peeked at the price tag, on the wallet in hopes that maybe on some off chance she could buy it. yet, you noticed how kazuha’s eyes widened when she saw the $750 price tag.

me seeing they raised prices by $0.25 at the dollar tree

kazuha mumbled something about going to find the Daiso store on the mall directory outside when lightly pulled her back by her hand. you motioned for the associate to hold when you asked kazuha, “did you like this one, princess?” kazuha nodded and said, “it’s classic and not too flashy. it suits you really well i think.” you sighed and asked once more, “i meant for yourself.” her face fell and she murmured nervously while eying the associate, “yeah, i like this shade of blue…sky blue.”you turned back to the associate and told him in english, “all four items please, and separate bags. the blue is for her, and the pink for myself.”

beside you kazuha quickly rushed out in a panicked tone, “no no no no no- unnie, i can’t afford to pay you for this kind of thing. i’ll lose it.” you let out a small laugh and said, “you’re right, you do lose stuff a lot…” for a moment you remained silent until asking the associate, “can you add the AirTag holder for the blue set please?” the associate smiled and quickly went to grab one to add to your transaction. while the associate was retrieving your last items, kazuha told you in a confused tone, “i don’t have AirTags?” the associate came back and rang all of your items up, “two Small Prada Galleria Saffiano leather bags, one in Alabaster Pink and one in Light Blue. two small Saffiano and leather wallet, one Alabaster Pink, one Light Blue. one Saffiano AirTag holder in Light Blue. which brings your total to $10, 971.” you shuffled through your four different credit cards and answered without sparing kazuha a glance, “i’ll buy you some.” you checked twice before choosing the right card, and tapping it on the screen reader.

RICH GIRL Y/N (no actually wtf cuz how does she have a black card at 23?)

*bonus*~ {y/n dropping $6k on kazuha pt. 2}

“hello this is le sserafim’s kazuha. today i am going to introduce the items i have in my handbag.” the japanese idol held up the light blue handbag and pointed out, “this is the Prada Saffino leather bag, on the outside here i have AirTag in the matching holder.” she unclipped the holder and said, “i have 4 of these and they’re engraved with カズハ on the back. they’re very helpful with making sure i don’t lose my things.”

y/n bought and engraved *FOUR* AirTags for Zuha

clip three~ 🦊{zuha and y/n studio choom mix & max}

when kazuha was told that she was requested to perform for studio choom apart from her members, she was beyond excited. for the first time in her idol career she had full creative control over her performance with plenty of ideas to match. however, within a week of the three week long preparation period, she realized something was still lacking. kazuha lost sleep for days trying to figure out what the issue was, until she had a spontanous shared practice with you.

although you were presently known as the main rapper of your group, it was very well known that prior to being an idol you were a dancer. classical ballet training along with some contemporary and lyrical dance made up nearly eighteen years of your life. you’d never completely left that part of you behind even after becoming an idol. since debuting, your focus wasn’t solely on classical training anymore, that had become a ‘glorified hobby’ as your choreographer called it. nevertheless, you found yourself dancing alongside kazuha during early mornings or late nights when the two of you missed your past a little more than usual. dancing alongside kazuha, you felt like that missing piece was filled as you both complemented one another so effortlessly.

kazuha pulled out the filming camera to capture more moments of her behind the scenes process to her new project. you sat on the floor with one foot in your foot stretcher when kazuha nudged you, “unnie…can you help me with this project?” you looked up from your phone and set it aside, turning all of your attention to your member, “yeah, what’s wrong?” kazuha pouted and you poked her cheek until she admitted, “i really really want you to perform with me. can you?” immediately your face fell and your stomach sank at the thought since you haven’t performed ballet, contemporary, or lyrical in years. kazuha could see your hesitance and she explained, “i’m dancing to young and beautiful by lana del rey. it’s all choreography that you’ve done before i’m sure. i just know i’m missing something and it doesn’t feel right alone, but i can if it’s too much. i know you don’t really perform like that anymore so….” you shook your head and assured her, “no it’s fine. of course i’ll perform with you, zuha.” she beamed and let out an excited squeal before leaning over and throwing herself into your arms.

the entire preparation process was a lot more intense than you thought it would be. although you had still continued dancing, doing a full scale performance required a lot more technique than practicing alone for fun. additionally, kazuha was also getting in her own head especially when it came to lifts and holds. if her hesitance continues then you’d have to get rid of the moves because she’d then be posing a risk to her own safety, and yours.

kazuha had been practicing with you for nearly three hours and you were still struggling to pull the performance together. you sat on the floor with your elbows on your knees and palms against your temples. letting out a deep breath you told her, “this isn’t working.” the younger woman reached for the camera that was still recording you both but you stopped her, “leave it on. it’s going to be fine.” you pressed your back against the wall and kazuha sat back down beside you with her head down. carefully nudging her, you motioned for her to sit between your legs, her back against your front. she obliged and you began running your hands through her hair, “relax.”

your other arm wrapped around kazuha’s torso and you rested your cheek against her bare shoulder, moving her tank top strap away from your face. she let out a breath and you could feel that she was going to cry from stress. ever so gently, you kissed her shoulder and assured, “shhhh we’ll be fine. just relax for a minute, okay?” your fingers grazed her bicep lightly as you just kept your eyes closed for a moment.

they’re so soft for one another i can’t do this anymore

kazuha lifted her head from your shoulder and stretched her legs from the folded position they were in. you opened your eyes and told her, “you have to trust me. i got you, i’m not gonna drop you or let you fall. i’m not gonna let anything happen okay?” kazuha nodded against your shoulder and you smiled, squeezing her side making her yelp in surprise. you gently pushed for her to stand up, “alright let’s do this.”

and if you haven’t seen their performance go watch it NOW because they worked so hard

clip four 🦢~ {members making kazuha ask for things because it’s the only way y/n agrees}

“we could be the winx club fairies!”

“no”

“we could be the disney princesses!”

“no.”

“what about the avengers?”

“no because you’re all gonna try to make me the hulk.”

“the friends characters?”

“absolutely not.”

“harry potter characters!”

“Wait…never mind i’m just kidding. no.”

you had turned down every suggestion yunjin and eunchae threw your way regarding a group costume for the HYBE halloween party this year. honestly, the suggestions weren’t bad but you just weren’t big on the holiday. yunjin and chaewon thought they were setting you up to say yes by having a livestream on, so you’d be inclined to agree to look like a nice unnie for your members. but, you knew their game which is exactly why you didn’t agree even though you liked yunjin’s first suggestion.

eunchae read the comments and gave more suggestions that you continued to refuse until kazuha entered the room and distracted the youngest member. you beamed with a wide smile, “my zuha!” your other two members pretended to cry and dramatically said, “see she loves zuha more than us!” you rolled your eyes and denied with a smug grin, “no i love my members equally.” the comments flooded with fans jokingly calling bullshit, just because they knew you had a very small inclination to lean in favor of kazuha.

you patted kazuha’s thigh for her to stand up and you murmured for only them to hear, “i’ll be right back.” when you left the room and closed the door, yunjin and eunchae immediately explained to kazuha, “we need halloween costumes and y/n won’t agree on anything so we need you to pick from our list and ask.” eunchae added on, “she’ll say yes if it’s you.” kazuha looked at the list on yunjin’s phone and quickly looked through online searches to pick her favorite one. when you came back and sat down, kazuha stood up before sitting back on your lap and playing with your fingers that rested against her leg. she shot a small smile to the camera and proposed, “fearnot are saying you all were talking about halloween costumes. did you guys pick one yet?” you shook your head and said, “no, do you have any ideas?”

kazuha shrugged and said, “i don’t know some of the ones people are suggesting. i think they’re from american shows or something?” yunjin played along, secretly loving the way you were already starting to fall for their trap. she leaned over and showed kazuha a few of them just to make it seem like they weren’t setting you up. eunchae made small comments about the ones she liked until kazuha had yunjin stop on one internet tab. the japanese girl showed you yunjin’s phone and asked, “can we do this one?” she paused and then said in her best american accent, “monster high.” you looked over the screen and smiled sweetly, “yeah sure who do you wanna be?” immediately eunchae and yunjin’s jaws hit the floor as they sat in disbelief that you actually agreed after refusing both of them when they asked. kazuha let out a laugh and you did the same while the comments flooded with fans calling you out for your obvious favoritism. when you stopped laughing you looked at the camera and admitted, “everyone i was going to say yes to their costume suggestions later on, i swear. it’s just funny to see their reaction like this! i love my girls, don’t misunderstand okayyyyy?”

sure y/n…whatever you say ;)

clip five 🦊~ {y/n who’s afraid of water agreeing to swim with kazuha}

“what is something we don’t know about you?” you read the question aloud as it appeared on the screen in front of you. for the first time in weeks you had finally found time to have a solo livestream for fearnot after practice one evening. for a moment you thought and mused, “something you all don’t know… hmm.” suddenly you remembered the word, and said, “i have aquaphobia.”immediately you responded, “i’m not afraid of drinking water or showering. i’m scared of swimming pools, oceans, lakes, seas, and stuff like that.”

you stopped for a moment and saw comments asking why so you explained, “when i was little my mom put me into swimming lessons. i think i was about five years old international age at the time, and my brother, was 13 or 14 but i can’t exactly remember? at the end of the lessons we got out of the pool and went to find our parents in the lobby area. usually i got out of the pool and walked to find my older brother on the other side because he was on the swimming team, and they practiced while i was in lessons. this one day i decided i was going to walk through the pool to the other side because i saw another girl do it, and walking outside always made me cold. so, i jumped into the other pool and started walking towards my older brother. but i didn’t know this pool got deeper because the one they teach little kids in was all 1 meter deep. the water went from 1 meter to 1.5 quickly and i started to drown because all i knew how to do back then was hold my breath. i just remember i screamed a lot and i got water in my nose, mouth, ears, and eyes. my brother was the one that saved me because the lifeguards were with the other kids and parents, but heard me all the way across the pool and he was the one who got me. but after that i didn’t take lessons again until i was eight years old because i was too scared.” you skimmed the comments from fans and most of them said they also had a similar experience or said something else supportive. upon noticing a comment regarding your brother you added, “yeah my brother is a good older brother. after that day he picked me up from lessons every time after that. he taught me how to float too in case i ever fell in again but even though i can swim now i don’t like getting in water anymore.”

“unnie come to the pool with me!” eunchae insisted as she ran around the large house that your company rented for a new episode of a show you all were filming. you slipped on your flip flops and followed her so you could sit on the pool side and dip your feet in while she played. the rest of your members were in the kitchen cooking something for dinner, and had everything under control. eunchae jumped into the pool and you snapped a few pictures of her while telling her how cute she was. you heard footsteps behind you and kazuha sat beside you after taking off her slippers. eunchae waved the japanese girl over and kazuha slipped into the water and joined eunchae in her games.

you simply watched the two of the girls as they enjoyed the water and shot each other with water guns and pool toys. eunchae ended up getting out after a while because she was tired of the water, but kazuha was still full of energy. she looked over at you and asked, “don’t you wanna get in? the wait’s really warm.” you thought about it and sighed, hesitantly taking off your mic pack and setting it aside. slowly you lowered yourself into the water, standing against the pool wall as the water stopped just below your neck. eventually you were chasing kazuha around in the pool and it was like you were never scared of water in the first place. the younger girl jumped on your back and wrapped her legs around your waist with her arms around your neck. she beamed, “thank you unnie!” you bent backwards a little and dipped her into the water before laughing, “anything for you, zuha.”

#kpop fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #girl group fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #girl group reactions #lesserafim reactions #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim scenarios #lesserafim imagines #le sserafim #nakamura kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x y/n

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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so, SO, Hear me out. This has been stuck in my head for DAYS. Can i request a Sapnap x reader smut, BUT Incubus!Sapnap. My brain is mush. Perhaps reader doesn't believe in demons etc, so they're trying to prove to themselves that these things indeed don't exist by trying to summon a demon, what type of demon? they don't know. Unfortunately(fortunately) for them, the ritual works and Sapnap is summoned. Afab reader with any pronouns, and Dom or switch Sapnap.

i literally love this idea sm. thank you for trusting me with it. [thank you to a friend of mine who helped me w some of the plot elements.] I hope you enjoy and happy reading! xx

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (18+)

pairing: incubus!sapnap x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of an Ouija board, blood, oral (fm. receiving), smut, domination, choking

Your fishnets clung to your legs, yet provided little protection against the nipping breeze dragging icy fingers across your skin. You rubbed the arms of your jacket, attempting to generate more warmth as your breath fogged around you. Your friends giggled and kicked at each other, hanging around their shoulders and acting drunker than they actually were. It felt like icicles picked your heart each time you faintly felt like you were enjoying yourself, all because of Him.

His words echoed in your head each time a man approached you, finding yourself nearly too suspicious to believe they wouldn’t end up like He did: cold, distant, and arrogant.

The club had been too loud, in your opinion, but you’d be damned to let one of your friends know. They were focused on finding you a squeeze to preoccupy you while you got over Him. You didn’t need a distraction, you just needed to get rid of the thought of him.

One of your friends grabbed your arm, dragging you down a portion of concrete steps and into a lower-level shop. You briefly caught sight of the neon sign above the door, LOCAL PSYCHIC blinking in bright pink piping to welcome in tourists. You scoffed to yourself as you shrugged through the beaded curtain over the door.

The shop smelled of incense and a potpourri of unfamiliar herbs. A slender woman with long black hair looked up from a magazine, gold eyeliner sparkling in the dim lighting of the store. She watched the group of you carefully as your friends went straight for the Ouija boards in the corner. As you looked over her various shelves of exotic species of crystals, you could feel her eyes burning into your shoulder.

You sighed quietly, grabbing a green hued crystal and approaching her in lieu of your group. “So, this will get rid of my bad juju if I stick it in my bra, right?” You quipped jokingly, making her smuggly grin.

She straightened up, revealing a metal band t-shirt that you couldn’t pronounce the name of, let alone knew. “Gorgeous, you’ll need a fist full of moldavite to cleanse what you’ve got going on,” she jested, voice raspy and surveying. “Give me your hand,” she stated, more than asked. You reluctantly reached for her, her boney ringers cupped your hand, rings catching the candle light beside the cash register.

“Does it say I’ll disappear mysteriously after a boating accident?” You leered, making her bite her lip.

You could practically feel her breath on your skin. She studied your palm closely, wetting her lips. “I think I have something better than moldavite, though,” she quirked before digging her nail into the center, making you hiss. She drew a bit of blood from the wound, placing a business card against the spot. The center of the card oozed the crimson color seeping from the cut. “Call this number when you get home and all your bad juju will clear, my love. Him included,” she whispered. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“Of course not,” you answered, your eyes locked on hers as she smiled darkly at you, almost forebodingly. You flipped the card in your hand, a number plastered on one side and “REVERSE YOUR REGRETS,” printed boldly on the other. Your eyebrow perked at her. “What, is this a demon calling card?” You quizzed almost sarcastically.

Her dark, full lips twisted up. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

Your mouth ran dry as she smirked, fingers brushing against your own as your hand slipped from hers. You found it hard to speak on the bus ride home, or even form sentences while you were crammed between two of your friends as they all sparked chatter about their upcoming finals. One of the main reasons they bought the Ouija board was to ask a ghost to write their history and philosophy theses.

Your apartment was dark and alluringly quiet compared to the night of bright lights and ridiculous EDM you had endured for most of the night. You let your jacket slip to the floor as you switched on a lamp, washing your hands as your mind relayed what the woman from the shop had said. As you dried your hands, your eyes traveled towards the living room, the dark fabric of one of His hoodies peeking out from between the couch and the wall. You bit your tongue, anger flashing into your veins. “Even Him…” you thought, remembering what she had told you.

You grabbed your phone, slinking over to where your jacket was and fishing the card from your pocket. The red smudge of blood almost perfectly split the phone number in half. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“No, what kind of respectable adult believes in demons,” you grumbled to yourself, dialing the number. You turned the card over again, eyeing the words as you waited for the call to connect. Instead of ringing normally, three long dial tones sounded over your receiver, sending a shiver down your spine. Dogs of your apartment complex began to bark, sending feral noises of discomfort into the air.

An automated voice began to speak, startling you slightly. “Thank you for your call. Your sacrifice is pure and has been accepted. Congratulations.”

Sacrifice? The line went dead, your power fizzling out as well. You froze, your feet feeling as if your shoes were filled with cement. In an instant, your array of candles sparked to life, brightening the room. Your heart thundered in your chest, unsure of what was happening. Sacrifice?

You held your breath, waiting for what was to come. It seemed as if your apartment had been removed from the city outside, instead an eerie silence settled in the room, making it almost suffocating to be alone.

“Hello, dove,” a dark voice called from behind you, making you jump a foot in the air, chest wheezing from the jump scare. A man smirked at you, resting his chin in his hand as he looked at you. He dominated one of your chairs, his other hand drumming his fingers against the leather. His suit was well tailored, but he wore it rather lazily with his crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He wore dark nail polish, making his fingers appear longer.

His eyes trailed your body, pressing his lips together as you realized how tightly you were clutching your phone and the card. “How did you get in here?” You asked, your voice barely audible.

He stood, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket. He walked over to you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Your breath was measured, your body drawn to him as if you were an animal in heat. “You summoned me, puppy,” he answered, voice dipping an octave before dragging the card from your fingers. Your skin burned and sparked at his touch. His smell was intoxicatingly enticing, making your mouth water.

He held the card between two fingers, his eyes locking to yours indefinitely. “You even bound yourself to me,” he noted, letting his finger pad draw across the blood stain on the card. “Little minx,” he mumbled.

You swallowed. “What are you?” You managed, words uneven and almost jumbled.

He turned slightly on his heel, circling around you slowly, fingers dragging against the fabric of your shirt before snaking around the back of your throat. His thumb teased against your skin almost as if he was restraining himself from ripping you in half. “They call me Sapnap. Some might categorize me as a demon, but that seems rather exaggerated, don’t you think?” He responded. “I’m here to help you reverse your regrets.”

You inhaled sharply. “What does that mean?”

He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Baby, I’m here to make you feel good again,” he divulged, the heat of his breath skimming against your neck, urging you to submit to him. "I'm here to make you forget all about Him."

In an instant you found yourself pinned beneath him, the sheets on your bed cast aside along with most of your clothes. He watched you sternly as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders, unbuttoning his collared shirt, pupils blown with lust at your hungry appearance.

Sapnap ground his hips against yours, tugging on your thighs to bring you closer to him. Your back arched slightly, fingers digging into the sheets as his lips traveled from your neck to your chest, one of his large hands palming your breast. You stifled a moan, hips bucking against him. He pressed his tongue against your navel, licking a strip against your skin before he was in your ear again. His fingers curled around your waistband. "Uh uh, dove. I wanna hear you."

He leaned back on his knees, teeth nipping at the inside of your thighs as he trailed towards your core. His eyes danced up to yours, briefly gauging your reaction before slipping his finger between the skin of your hips and your lacy undergarments, tugging them down your legs. He pressed open mouth kisses to your thighs once more, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh with a restraint you had half a mind to egg on.

He hooked his arms around your thighs, burying his face where you needed him the most. Your body reacted to the pleasure of his tongue almost instantly, fighting to clamp your legs around his head as your toes curled. Sapnap was taking his time with you, eating you out as if you were his last meal, humming slightly to send vibrations against your nerve endings.

You threaded your fingers through his dark hair, rolling your hips against his mouth and muttering his name. He moved, teeth sinking into your thigh as he pressed his finger into you, making you moan incoherently. You tugged at his hair, earning a groan in pleasure as you noticed him grinding against the mattress. His lips were back on your heat as his finger curled inside of you.

He added another finger, finding your sweet spot almost as if your body had been made for him specifically. With each swirl of his tongue and his moans at the sight of you enjoying the chase of your orgasm, the more the tension began to build within you. He quickened his pace as he watched you pant, coaxing you closer to the edge.

Sapnap moved his head from side to side, flattening his tongue for more friction, pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Cum for me, baby," he commanded, breath hot against your core. You relinquished control of your body, letting your climax rip through your body, leaving you breathless and stunned.

He wore the devil's smile as kissed the inside of your knee, praising you heavily for heeding to his demands. "Good girl," he cooed, voice dark and drawn with lust as he moved to press his lips against your shoulder. "Such a good girl."

His lips traveled beneath your ear, nipping at the skin before pressing his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands holding your chin.

He discarded his pants, spitting in his hand and stroking himself a few times as his eyes burned into yours. He dragged you towards him, gripping onto your hips before driving himself into you. You groaned at the pressure, grinding against his hips and earning a smirk from him. "So needy. Have I not been good to you thus far?" His words dripped with a god complex you had yet to taste.

You whimpered slightly before he rolled his hips against yours. He retracted himself before slowly thrusting into you, watching with pride as you writhed for more of him. "I could kill you, you know?" He stated, thrusting into you harshly, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of your head.

You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. "You won't," you moaned as he set a pace, digging his hips into yours.

Sapnap's other arm moved, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing slightly, as if showing you he could do worse. "Says who?" He provoked, pressing his lips against yours, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier, deeper as he buried himself into you. "Me," you answered. He grinned deviously, pinning your knee to your chest and pounding into you, basking in your moans like they were personalized ego boasts. "I can take it," you groaned quietly, enticing him. He tightened his hold on your neck, causing your vision to blur in pleasure as heat rushed through your body, his roughness a perfect catalyst to your cardinal hunger.

"That's right, sweetheart," he grunted, eyes seeming to burn brighter with your submission. "Take it," he mirrored, his pace relentless against you as if testing your limits. He pressed his thumb in your mouth, moaning as your teeth rested against it, tongue darting out against it. You focused on his eyes, trying not to roll your own as your body ached to climax.

You could see the veins in his neck becoming more prominent and he removed his thumb only to grip your jaw in his hand, shoving his tongue into your mouth to lap at your whimpers. His hands moved to pin your forearms to the mattress beside you, his lips melding against yours as the two of you pushed each other to orgasms. You could feel his pleasure coming undone within you, finally acting as the jumping-off point for your second climax.

You panted, hurriedly attempting to catch your breath as he pulled out of you, sighing in pleasure.

He moved to begin dressing, holding your card between his teeth as he buckled his belt around his waist. Your mind blurred in bliss, still riding your high. It didn't really bother you if he left or stayed.

He finished buttoning his shirt as you sat up on your elbows, watching him straighten his appearance. "I'll call on you soon," he stated, tucking the card with your blood on it into his breast pocket.

You quipped an eyebrow at him. "This is a normal thing now?" You questioned, the situation seeming different.

He patted his pocket to gesture to the card. "You're mine, dove. I get you whenever I want," he smirked. He rested his knee on the edge of your bed, leaning down to press his lips against yours possessively.

#sapnap smut #sapnap fanfic #sapnap x reader #sapnap imagine #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #incubus #demon au #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader #🍭 anon

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nalgenewhore · 3 years

Text

ends of the earth

elide x lorcan, modern au/band au (catfish and the bottlemen), light angst with a happy ending, word count: 5197

He’d been called to place five minutes ago, but Lorcan was still in the dressing room, his phone tight in his grasp.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

“Hey, it’s Elide, leave a message!”

Gods-damn it.

He clenched his jaw as the automated voice told him to speak after the beep, his knee bouncing up and down. Stealing one last glance at the door, like someone would burst through it and drag him away before he could say what he needed to, Lorcan waited anxiously.

Beep.

“Hey, Lee, it’s me. I, um, I don’t have that long ‘cause I was supposed to be in my place… five minutes ago, but I just wanted to say that…” Lorcan trailed, narrowing his eyes as he tried to order his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I’ve been gone so long.” His knee bounced again, uncontrollably. “I really miss you. Just call me back, please. I love you, sweetheart. Forever.”

With that, Lorcan hung up and shoved his phone into his bag before standing and grabbing his electric guitar from its velvet-lined case. He didn’t let any of the attendants touch it, or anyone else – besides Elide – for that matter.

He carried it out of the room with him, ducking his head as he moved through the backstage area to the left wing of the stage, where the rest of his band was waiting. Fenrys saw him first and clapped his hands together slowly, drawling, “Well, boys, aren’t we blessed? Our—”

“Can you not? For one fucking day?” Lorcan snapped, not having any of the energy he usually had to deal with his drummer’s mouth. Fenrys’ eyes widened and he all but froze, shocked by Lorcan’s response. The others quieted as well, all looking at Lorcan. He scowled and slipped the strap of his instrument over his head, tersely adjusting it so that it hung low over his hips.

When his bandmates were all still silent, he looked up, shame flooding through. “Fen, I’m- I’m sorry. It was just… stuff with ‘lide.”

“‘s’ok,” Fenrys said, shrugging. He grinned wildly, “I was being a shit.”

Lorcan nodded once in thanks or acknowledgement of Fenrys’ unsaid forgiveness, he wasn’t sure which it was. He sat down on some ledge, mindlessly tuning his guitar as they waited for the opening band to wrap their set up so that they could play.

Someone sat down next to him. Without looking, Lorcan knew that it was Rowan. The bassist was the most level-headed of them all and the only one with enough emotional maturity to talk to Lorcan about the growing issues between him and his girl. Rowan bumped his shoulder into Lorcan’s. “You, ah… feel like… talking ‘bout it?”

Lorcan snorted and chuckled lowly, “You know, not even a ‘lil bit, Ro.” He lifted his head and rolled his eyes at Rowan’s pointed look. “Hellas below, man, it’s just… we aren’t breaking up.” Neither of them wanted that, that Lorcan knew. “The touring’s a lot for both of us. It’s a lot for all of us,” he added, glancing at the rest of the band, who were all lazing on their behinds.

Rowan nodded, “Yeah. It is.” His shoulders slumped, straining against his loose cotton shirt, which was only three-quarters of the way buttoned. “You know that if you need to talk, I’m here, right?”

The lead singer just barely managed to stop his second eye-roll and nodded, lips tight. “Mm-hm. I know.”

Luckily, just then, the backstage lights flashed and Lorcan was spared from further needling. Someone came by as their opening band filed off of the stage, looking high off the ecstasy that was performing in front of a live crowd, and handed Lorcan, Rowan, Vaughan, Fenrys, and Connall their earpieces.

Lorcan fit his in his left ear, as he had a new double conch piercing in the right, and tucked his necklace beneath the collar of his faded t-shirt. It was a simple piece of jewellery, the only one he never took off. The chain was gold and from it dangled a viper pendant, twin to the same piece that hung from Elide’s slim throat.

Fenrys and Connall were the first to walk on, one to the drumset and the other to the keyboard. They shouted back at the crowd, always ones to rile them up and feed off of the crowd’s energy.

Next was Vaughan, the backup guitarist, who wore a prideful smirk, his dark eyes scanning seductively over the mass of fans. Lorcan shook his head at his cousin and Rowan strolled out, plucking absentmindedly at his bass. He waved after he found his position behind one of the three microphones. Vaughan was behind the other, playing a riff on his guitar, his fingers sliding up and down the fretboard.

Lorcan waited a moment more, his eyes closed for a fleeting second. When he opened them, he stepped out, the lights immediately blinding and heavy on him. The cheers and screams from the sea of people were deafening, but he was used to it.

He put on a golden grin, one corner of his lips higher than the other. Elide always liked to kiss him when he was smiling like this, pressing her round and sweet lips against the corner, her fingertips resting on his jawline.

The smile faltered for a second. The very next, it was as though he’d glitched, pasting that same smile back on. Lorcan lifted one hand to pull the microphone closer to him, “Evening, Varese. How we all doing? Good?” They roared back and he chuckled, nodding his head, “Alright, alright, no need to scream and shout. That’s our job.” Lorcan glanced at the boys one by one, nodding when they nodded at him.

“Let’s kick it!” Fenrys shouted, tapping his drumsticks together before he launched into song.

Lorcan heard the music in his earpiece and played his guitar as he began to sing, “You’re simpatico… and of all the lift-homes and all the mixed feelings, you’re cuts above…”

He knew that the crowd was singing along, but he couldn’t discern the lyrics that ripped from their throats.

“And I’d co-o-o-me… you can leather me with your li-i-i-ips…”

Fenrys slammed down against his drums and Lorcan sang roughly into the mic, his eyes closed, “I’ve got to give it to you – you give me problems! When you are not in the mood…”

One song bled into the next and into the next until they reached the track they hadn’t put on the album. Lorcan had written it days ago, when they’d been flying to the next city. The minute they’d touched down, the whole band was asking their manager to take them to the nearest studio to record and perfect it.

Unlike their other songs, this one was Lorcan’s only. Only he had written the lyrics, only he had figured out the chords. The boys had just known how badly he needed this, so they’d agreed without question, without hesitation.

“This next song’s…” Lorcan started, his heart thumping against his ribcage, “about a very, very special girl. My favourite girl in the whole world, really.” And I hope she hears this. He looked back at the others and nodded, his lips set in a grim line.

He plucked at his guitar, leaning into the mic, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I got some lies to tell.”

Fenrys joined in gently, as did Connall. Still, it was only Lorcan who sang, “She hates her work, but loves to flirt.” When he’d first met Elide, they’d both been working at the same recording studio. People had told him she flirted with everyone, so he hadn’t known that she was even interested until one night she’d taken his face in her hands and kissed him in plain sight of all their coworkers, flipping them off as she did so. “It’s a shame she don’t work with me.

“She gets uptight, don’t like when I’m gone, but she won’t let on to me,” he continued, hating the fact that Elide was pulling away from him and hating the fact that he didn’t know how deeply his absence affected her.

Lorcan stepped back as they played up to the chorus, playing a little harder and letting a little more grunge bleed into the notes. He moved back to the mic, singing louder as the rest of the band started to play, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie… I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.”

He didn’t hear the cheers of the crowd, ignored them as they shouted his name and screamed. This wasn’t for them – it was for Elide. All Lorcan could do was play hard enough so that maybe she could hear, never mind that she was an ocean away.

Lorcan let go of his guitar, letting Vaughan take the lead when he took the mic, “I got mistook and took dissent, and it’s not as if you didn’t no-otice.” He leaned forward, “But I try to steer you clear of this place and I wound up with nothing to show for it!”

He stood up again, pushing his guitar around his back, “You never got that from me. She said you never got that from me, she said you never got that from me…

“Oh, but I said you got that look from me-e,” his throat felt raw. With the speakers behind him, Lorcan could hardly hear himself. As the song built back up to the chorus, Lorcan took his guitar back in hand and strummed aggressively, his head moving back and forth with the beat.

“I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.” Lorcan inhaled sharply, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try!”

He walked backwards a few paces for his guitar solo, only looking at the ‘E’ carved into his instrument, right where the neck connected to the body. Tears burned his eyes and Lorcan blinked them away, tensing his jaw.

Then, he pulled the microphone towards him and let go of his instrument. As he sang the last lines, one hand pushed his long hair back, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I’ve got some lies to tell…”

<3<3<3

Elide bit her thumbnail as the phone line droned on. Her hands shook and she paced back and forth in front of their living room window. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Please, please, please pick up.

She’d watched Lorcan’s show through a livestream from somebody in the crowd. It’d been shaky and grainy, the audio blown, but she’d heard the song and more importantly, what Lorcan had said before it.

The line clicked, “Sweetheart?”

“Hi,” she breathed, her voice airy. Elide cleared her throat, “H-hi. It’s me.”

Lorcan chuckled. He sounded almost… relieved. “I know, I just- I just didn’t… know if you were going to call.”

Her heart sank slightly and she opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Elide knew that there was a… there was a rift between them and she hadn’t made it easy for him to fix it. He doesn’t make it easy to love him, either. “I watched your show, baby. That new song…” she trailed off, not sure how to force the words out.

“Did… do you not like it?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“No! No, I loved it,” Elide said, sinking onto the windowsill and lifting her foot to rest her heel against the ledge. The hem of her boyfriend’s shirt bunched around the tops of her thighs and she fingered the holes dotting the edge. “It was great, Lor, really.” Elide looked down, her cheeks heating despite the fact that she was alone and he couldn’t see her. “Is it about me?”

“Lee… everything I write is about you,” he mumbled. “It’s all for you. I- I…” Lorcan exhaled. “Just give me a minute, won’t you? I can move somewhere else and we can FaceTime?”

She grinned and nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that. I miss seeing your face.”

“I miss seeing you too,” Lorcan murmured. “Ok, I’ll call you back, alright?”

“Ok. And I love you too. Always.”

Lorcan clicked his tongue lightly, teasingly saying, “You’re such a sap.”

Elide rolled her eyes, “Good-bye.”

He was laughing as he hung up and Elide got to her feet, prancing over to their bedroom. It was late and she knew she most likely fall asleep while talking to him. It had been hard to sleep without him next to her.

Elide had just settled in when her phone rang again, this time with a FaceTime call from Lorcan. She pressed the green icon and grinned at her screen as the call connected, her boyfriend’s face coming into focus, even if it was a little grainy. “Hi, baby.”

Lorcan’s smile was lopsided, her favourite smile of his. “Hey, sweetheart.” He was in his hotel bed, one hand tucked behind him, his head cradled by his tattoo-covered bicep. “How’re ya doing?”

“I’m ok,” she said, propping her phone against the headboard and cushioning her chin with a fluffy pillow. “I went to the studio today and worked on a new song.”

“Really? D’you reckon it’s any good?”

Elide shrugged, “Not sure yet. It doesn’t have that… it doesn’t have that thing, you know?”

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

For a moment, neither of them knew what to say, so they didn’t say anything.

Then, they both opened their mouths to talk at the same time. “I wanted to—” “We should– oh, you- you can go.”

Elide nodded, trying to summon courage she wasn’t sure that she had. “I’m… I wanted to talk. About you being gone.” Lorcan dipped his chin, his face grave as he encouraged her on. Tears sprung in her eyes and she whispered, “I miss you. Everything, everything comes back to that. I miss you. Whenever I’m angry at you, it’s ‘cause you’re not here and I- I just get more and more mad at that.” She wiped her cheeks and looked down at her hands, flicking her eyes to her bitten nails. “I’m biting my nails again.”

“You hate biting your nails,” Lorcan said softly, his eyes reflecting deep sorrow. “And-” he shifted, sitting up. “I know. I know that I’m gone too much. I know that- that I’m never there.” He frowned. “I want to come home, sweetheart, I want to be with you, I promise. I’m- I’m so tired of touring.” Lorcan rubbed his eyes. “Um… I talked to the boys. We’re… we don’t want to tour anymore. We’re just done.”

She gasped softly, her vision blurring. In a whisper, Elide told him: “Don’t say that if you don’t m-mean it.”

“Lee, of course I mean that. You really think I would…”

Elide shrugged, “I feel like I don’t know you, L. You’re... you aren’t Lorcan, you’re,” she did a dramatic hand gesture, “Lorcan Salvaterre, lead heartthrob of the Bloodsworn. And I still think that name is far too reminiscent of teenaged angst.”

He snorted and closed his yawns, rubbing his head against the crinkling crisp pillow. “Yeah… probably right about that one, love.” Lorcan sighed through his nose and slit his eyes open, “I know we aren’t finished with this.”

She nodded, fiddling with something. “Lor…” her lips trembled. “Your tour is done in a month.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But, we- we can make it. Can’t we? I mean, I’ve already written the sad song where I’m the shit boyfriend, right? We can- we can talk.” Lorcan pushed his silky hair back.

“Yeah. I’m just sad. I… I’m scared that I’ll feel like this again and we’ll never make up again. What happens then?”

Lorcan ran his tongue over his teeth and the muscles in his jaw feathered, “Lee, I… do you want to break up? Is that what you want?”

The words hit her like a blow and Elide physically recoiled, “No, of course that’s not what I want!” She made a helpless motion with her hands, “But what if that’s not enough? What if the fact that we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together isn’t enough?” Her throat was tight, so she swallowed past it, “I… I’m scared.”

“So am I,” Lorcan said. “We want the same things, I just… I think that’s enough. Can’t that be enough?”

She shrugged and looked down at her lap, picking at the pillow case. “Maybe it is. I guess- well, not guess, but… maybe that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. Elide smiled back at him, her heart fluttering.

They spoke for a while more until their voices became drowsy and heavy with slumber. Elide pulled the duvet over her and snuggled her cheek against the pillow that smelled most like his cologne. Her eyes slipped shut and she struggled to open them again, only for them to fall shut again.

Lorcan laughed softly, “Sweetheart, go to sleep. You’re falling asleep.”

She sighed softly and hummed, “No, ‘m not. ‘m just… resting, baby.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing, hmm?” he teased, his smile easy and warm.

Elide nodded, “Yeah…” She pursed her lips and exhaled a puff of air, pulling the duvet up tighter. “Mmm… g’night, Salvaterre.”

“Sweet dreams, Lochan.”

Mere seconds later, Elide fell asleep. When she woke up in the middle of the night, her phone was still in her hand and she smiled at the screen, where the call was still happening and she could see her boyfriend sleeping like the dead. She took a screenshot and texted it to him.

sweetheart: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment

sweetheart: ur kinda cute or whatever. i think im kinda in luv with u.

Then, she fell asleep once more, waking up in the morning to a screenshot he’d sent of her.

salvaterre: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment

salvaterre: i know im completely in love with you

<3<3<3

“Lorcan!” called their manager’s assistant, Luca, as he held Lorcan’s phone up. “Someone’s calling you!”

Their rehearsal, if it could even be called that, paused. Fenrys was working on his drum tricks, but Lorcan wasn’t sure that him attempting to play while Vaughan and Connall threw extra drumsticks at his set could be considered working.

Lorcan nodded and put his guitar down, loping across the room. When he was close enough, he saw that it was Elide and reached out, “Thanks, man.” Luca nodded, his curls bouncing. Lorcan picked up the call and ducked out of the rehearsal room, lifting his phone to his ear, “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” she replied. “I just wanted to check in. Luca told me you guys were rehearsing.”

He snorted and walked down the dark hallway, “Rehearsing’s a bit generous, Lee. Ro is hungover and Vaughan and Connall are throwing drumsticks at Fen.”

A bright laugh bubbled from her lips. “Gods, I don’t know why I believed Luca. That boy is too kind.”

“He really is, I don’t know why he wants to work for us bastards.”

Elide hummed, “Yeah, I don’t know either. You guys aren’t that nice.”

Lorcan found a forgotten corner and sat down, his long legs splayed out before him. “We really aren’t.” He looked at his worn Chuck Taylors, the laces frayed. “How’re you?”

“Well… I’m good. I, um, I booked a gig.”

“You did? Lee, that’s amazing,” he said, sitting up straighter. “When’d you book it?”

She hesitated to answer, “...three weeks ago. I… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you but… yeah.”

Lorcan shook his head, “No, no, it’s fine. Are you excited? You haven’t played anywhere in a… long time, love.” When his band had started playing, Elide had played too, appearing in local bars and a few festivals. Then she’d stopped. She still wrote songs and recorded them, but nothing was released.

“Yeah, I know. I’m feeling good. I’m excited,” Elide told him. “Really, I am.”

“But…”

There was something she wasn’t saying.

Her swallow was audible and her voice was quiet when she spoke again, “It’s- it’s next week. And I want you to come, but you can’t. I know that.”

His heart stutterd to a stop. Lorcan opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I- um, I’m- I’m sorry. That I won’t be there. I wish I could be.”

She laughed, but the sound was forced, “Lor, I don’t want your apology. You’ve already apologised and… it’s just something that is. The facts are that I have a gig, I want you to be there to see, but you’re on tour. And this- it’s your dream, isn’t it?”

You’re my dream, he thought. Lorcan flicked his eyes upwards, lying through his teeth, “Yeah. Yeah, this… this is my dream. I’m touring the world and sharing my music with everyone. I never thought I’d be here.” And you were supposed to be right here with me.

“Exactly, so, I’ll play more gigs. You’ll see them. It’s not like this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you know,” Elide joked. “You- you don’t have to worry about this one show, Lor.”

“Yeah…” he said, frowning slightly. Lorcan inhaled, “Listen, I’ve got to go back to rehearsal, but I’ll call you after?”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course. Talk to you later, then.”

“I love you, always.”

“And I love you, forever. Bye, baby.” Elide hung up and Lorcan slowly got to his feet, putting his phone in his back pocket.

He walked back to the rehearsal room, his brow furrowed in thought. Lorcan tapped the side of his fist against his leg as he went back.

When he walked back in, Malakai, their manager, glanced at him, “Are you… alright there, son?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan lifted his head. “I just need your help with something.”

<3<3<3

salvaterre: i don’t have time to call you before, but you’re going to do amazing and i love you so so so much.

salvaterre: you’re going to kill it

Elide stared down at the message, using it to ground herself. She stole yet another glance at the area before the makeshift stage and her heart hammered a bit harder. Her hands shook, so she breathed in deeply and tried to calm herself.

Her friends were sitting around the table closest to the stage, all sipping on their drinks and waiting excitedly for her to start.

The bartender, who was also the owner of the bar, walked up onto the stage and nodded once at Elide for confirmation. She nodded back at Gavriel and he turned to the microphone, “Folks, I want to thank you all for coming out tonight and please give a warm welcome to Elide Lochan!”

Aelin and Lysandra cheered, while Nesryn simply clapped along with the others, smiling gently.

Elide shook her head and put her phone in her guitar case before she walked out, sitting on the stool. Gavriel helped her adjust the microphone, “Is that alright?”

She nodded and adjusted her acoustic guitar, “Yes.”

“Alright, then. Good luck.” Gavriel walked off, leaving her to play.

“Um,” Elide said into the mic, looking over the crowd, “well, this is my first gig in quite some time and I’m… really happy to be up here, so, I hope you all enjoy it.”

Someone let out a loud ‘whoop’ and she laughed, strumming the strings idly.

She took a bracing breath and then started to play a song she’d written years ago. It was her safety song, Elide supposed, the one she always played. People always seemed to like it and when she used to play more regularly, it had been a frequent request.

As Elide played, her mind wandered, thinking about the lyrics she was singing and what they meant.

Much like her boyfriend, everything she wrote was for him.

Singing about him, it both saved and ruined her at the same time.

As the last notes rang out, Elide swallowed, her chest aching. There was a gentle applause throughout the bar and she smiled. “My last song of the night is a brand new tune and I’ve never actually played it in front of anyone else, so please be gentle. It’s called Hourglass and, yeah.” Her cheeks heated in embarrassment over her awkwardness and she ducked her head as Aelin cheered, laughing softly, “Thank you, Aelin.”

She exhaled once more, “Ok…” Elide strummed gently, one cowboy-booted foot up on the spindle of the stool she sat up. “You know, when you’re gone, I struggle at night, dreams of you fucking me all the time…

“Though I know you’re tied up and I know your phone’s fucked, I’m craving your calls like a soldier’s wife…” she sang gently, her eyes shutting, “I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf.”

Elide strummed a little louder, “Come back, move in, mess my place… chest infect me, waste my days… ‘cause I know you love to drive me up the wall, I know you love to drive me up the wa-a-all…

“I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf…”

The crowd was watching in silent rapture.

“And I’m so-o-o… impatient when you’re not mine. I just want to ca-a-a-tch up all on the lost time,” her voice was sultry like it usually was and she couldn’t help the emotion from bleeding into her words like she normally could, “And I’ll say I’m sorry if I sound sordid ‘cause all I really ever want is you…”

Elide vocalised sweetly as she played to the last verse, a small smile on her lips, “Offer my hand and I’ll take your name, share my shower, kiss my frame, ‘cause I wanna carry all of your children and I wanna call them,” she plucked more gently, “stup-id shit…”

She relaxed, indicating the end of the song, and she was met with loud applause. Elide smiled widely, her hands shaking.

She heard a familiar hurray and snapped her eyes to the table her friends were sitting at. Between Aelin and Nesryn, Lorcan sat, wearing a proud grin, his dark eyes glittering. Elide gaped, clapping her hand to her mouth.

Aelin got up and rushed to her, taking her guitar as Elide stood on shaky legs. “Wha- what- baby?”

He nodded once and Elide laughed, launching herself at him the moment he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, blinking back tears, “I- I can’t believe you’re here.”

Lorcan banded his arms around her waist and hugged her tight, one of his hands moving to press against her upper back. “I’ve been gone too long,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t want to miss this.”

Elide slowly pulled away and tilted her head up, tears lining her eyes, “I’m- gods, I don’t even know what to think. I’m, I’m so happy.” She laughed warmly, her hands squeezing his shoulders. After a quick look around, Elide nodded her head to the side of the bar, where they could have some privacy.

Lorcan nodded and went with her, taking their seats at an empty table. Elide sat up as high as she could and stretched over the small, round table, one hand tugging his jaw closer to her. She pressed her lips against his, somewhat melting at the first gentle brush of his tongue over the seam of her mouth. Elide parted her plush lips and gasped when his tongue licked over hers.

They drew back, never ones to display much affection in public. Lorcan’s hand cupped her face and he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I missed you too,” Elide said, practically beaming. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you tell me you’d written something new? What happened to our deal, hmm?” He hooked his pinky around hers, “We pinky promised, Lee, that means something, you know.”

One of the promises they’d made to each other was to always share their music with one another first.

Elide rolled her eyes, “Call it even, then?”

“But of course, sweetheart.”

She grinned, unable to control her smile, “I still can’t believe you’re actually here.” Lorcan’s hand was resting on the table and Elide ran her fingertips over his knuckles and the various tattoos he had. “How… do you feel about it? The song?”

“It’s beautiful,” he replied softly. “You’re extremely talented, Elide, d’you know that?” She blushed and lifted her eyes to his face. Lorcan softened as he took in her face and murmured, “C’mere,” as he pulled her off her stool and fit her between his thighs. He tipped her head back and kissed her once more. She melted into him, her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as she closed her eyes. “Lee,” Lorcan started, pulling back only enough to rest his forehead against hers.

Elide could see that he was going to say something and she quickly pressed her fingers to his full lips, shaking her head. She didn’t say a word, but he understood what she was telling him. There was nothing to say. Lorcan folded his arms around her and tucked her into his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head. His thumb stroked over her hair.

She smiled and inhaled the cedar and sage scent that clung to him like always. Idly, Elide toyed with his necklace, which was twin to hers. “So… how long do I get you this time?”

“A week,” he said, almost reluctant. “But, I was kinda thinking that after you…” Lorcan trailed off, nervous that she would say no.

Elide lifted her head, her hands resting on his thighs, “After? What do you mean after?”

He inhaled and spoke, his words rushed and indiscernible, “Italkedtotheboysandweallagreeditwouldbekindafunifyoucamewithusandyoucould—“

“Baby, slower, please,” Elide laughed. Lorcan blew out a breath and nodded, anxiously shoving his hair back, then settling both of his hands on her hips.

“If I asked you to come with me for the rest of the tour, what would you say?”

She gawked at him, almost taking a step back. “Are- are you serious, Lorcan?”

A nod.

“You really mean this? I would- I would come with you and do… what?”

He shrugged, “I dunno. You could sing with us. Feature artist.”

Elide laughed again, holding one of her hands to her mouth, “Of course – I would say yes.”

Relief flooded through his face and he smiled, “Really? You’d come with me?”

“Lorcan,” Elide said, softly shaking her head. She rose on her tip-toes, her lips brushing over his, “I would go with you to the ends of the earth and beyond.”

With a rakish grin, Lorcan closed the distance between them.

Always, they promised each other. I will be with you always.

<3<3<3

songs: Kathleen, Homesick, Hourglass (Catfish and the Bottlemen)

an: ahhh they kinda cute or whatevah

@mythicaitt @eyllweambassador @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @jadeaffliction @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @autophobiaxx @myshadowsingeraz @firestarsandseneschals @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @ladywitchling @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr @rowaelinismyotp @sassyhobbits @swankii-art-teacher @januarystears@flamingveritas

#elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #i luv luv luv them.

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 3 years

Text

A World-- Certain

dabi / f.reader

genre: real world to parallel world au? (is that an au? it’ll make sense dw), angst, romance, pinning, fools to lovers? (or dabi is stubborn/scared as all get out), longing/yearning (teehee)

warning(s): uhh, dabi hits a point where he’s determined to find a way back home or burn the city to the ground trying (is that a warning?), cursing, violence (or dabi punches one cop and sets another on fire- as he should), touya spoilers included? (like kinda minor ones, but you know, just in case), guns/dabi gets shot, sickly-sweet ending don’t worry, tiny mention of death

w.count: 9.8k

synopsis: the last thing he remembers, dabi had stepped in to join a rather nasty bar brawl that erupted at your pub one night. he along with a group of other villains who sided with you against a group of villains who weren’t exactly fans of your unground work. when he woke up, he wasn’t in the medical basement like he expected, nor was he at his apartment or yours. he was in a room he hadn’t seen before. when he leaves to your pub to get some answers, you’re not there. in fact, the entire building was abandoned and rotting. just what the fuck happened and where was he exactly, because this wasn’t exactly the city he knew anymore.

a/n: this is the second part to my two parter series, A World--, so be sure to read the first part A World-- Unsure, or else this really won’t make sense LOL. The concept can be kinda confusing already, but trust me- it’ll make sense aldfkasd. Enjoy!

also! since @lildockel asked to be tagged when part two went up, here is it!!

After seeing his white hair, and feeling how healthy the strands felt between his fingers, instead of the damaged, overly dyed black mess it all used to be, Dabi raced back into the bar. Rushing up the steps into the abandoned apartment as he looked around. Rushing to a mirror still hanging just barely on a nail, he used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe it of dust and cobwebs before ripping off his jacket entirely and tossing it to his feet.

He hadn’t realized it before since he never kept a habit of looking at his scarred and damaged body, but now as he stood in front of the mirror in the shirt he woke up in, he noticed the scars that he knew crawled over almost every inch of his body had changed.

The scars didn’t run up his whole right arm and stopped just at his elbow. His entire left side wasn’t engulfed in purple and staples, but instead ran up his forearm and then just around his shoulder and a patch on his neck. He reached up over his head and behind his shoulders to grab the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head and off to join his jacket on the floor before he looked at his chest. The scars that wrapped around his chest before weren’t nearly as bad and turning around to his back, he could see more skin than scars now.

He could feel the draft of the empty apartment on his skin, something he hadn’t been able to do in a long time.

He knew that each time he over used his quirk he would cause himself harm. His tolerance to the cold took a harsh toll on him since his quirk was heat based- he wasn’t built to handle heat as well as he should be with a quirk like his father’s.

He brushed his hand through his hair again as he stumbled around, head spinning to keep up with what the hell could be happening. The world was almost the same, but everything just felt different because of things that weren’t supposed to be. He snatched his phone from the pocket of his discarded jacket, trying again to call your number. It was there, clearly imputed with his information and call history, but just as before he was met with an automated message.

Your apartment wasn’t here, your bar wasn’t either and your phone number was nonexistent. It was like you didn’t exist at all.

Dabi moved back to sit against the wall that was across the room from the mirror, just so he could keep an eye on his reflection to help process exactly what was happening. He was no fool, and he could figure out that the world he knew was different from this one.

He sat on the ground as he thought. His hand came to rest over his neck, thinking back to the dart that was shot into him back at the bar. It was too convenient that he got shot with it then woke up in some weird- what he can only assume is- parallel world. A world exactly like the other, with just a few things altered.

Rather, the longer he sat in thought, the longer he thought that maybe it wasn’t a parallel world he was in, but actually a dream. The last thing he remembered was passing out covering you, so maybe the needle he was shot with put him into a dream.

He tested out his quirk, letting his hand be engulfed in fire before diminishing it, finding it worked exactly like it had before; so, he was in a world where quirks still existed at the very least. He wondered if the him he had become was still a villain, and if he was, then was he with the league? What was the actual year he woke up in? Was it parallel to the original timeline, or was it ahead? Delayed maybe?

The date on his phone lined up to the next day after the bar fight, but his phone also still had your number in it that didn’t seem to exist, so he didn’t trust his phone as much as he wanted to be able to.

Thumbing through his phone’s contacts, he wondered if he should try calling a different number. There was always a league member, but which one. He wouldn’t be caught dead calling Twice for answers and he didn’t really trust Toga’s tendency to go off on a tangent to get a straight answer out of her. Spinner wouldn’t have been a bad idea since he kept shit short, but he didn’t answer his phone for fuck. Maybe Magne? Though, he didn’t really want to call her, felt like if he did, he’d be imposing on her ‘me’ time.

By the end of his mental checklist, he was stuck between Shigaraki or Compress. He didn’t think Kurogiri even owned a phone, or else he’d dial him first. Sighing, he pushed his thumb against Compress’s contact. He didn’t want to deal with Shigaraki if he could avoid it- at least not yet.

The line rang out loud when Dabi put the phone on speaker and with a few more rings, the line picked up. It was a strange wave of relief when he heard the man with a thing for theatrics address Dabi by name when he picked up.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he sighed. There was an air of silence before Dabi spoke again, hearing Compress on the other line clear his throat in anticipation. “Okay, this may sound like complete bullshit, but hear me out for a second.”

Dabi unloaded the entire situation he suddenly found himself in to Compress as well as asked any questions he felt he needed to know the answers to, to get up to speed on exactly what kind of dream he ended up in. He was on the phone with the masked villain for almost an hour before the call ended with Dabi understanding things just a bit more.

In this world, he was still indeed a villain, but his face was kept under wraps. Dabi wasn’t presumed dead as Touya Todoroki, but rather disregarded his birth name for the alias just because he wanted to. His real name wasn’t a secret like it was in reality, that was why he didn’t have black hair- because if his identity wasn’t a secret, there was no point in dying it to stay hidden. But, he wasn’t as flashy a villain here, so no one really know who he was anyway.

In this dreamscape, Touya Todoroki never died, but ran from his home and betrayed his family after finally having enough of his father. Working now as a criminal, he stayed on the downlow side of society.

Things were more or less still the same otherwise. It was just his background and you that was truly different. Dabi sat and stared at his reflection wondering if you really existed here- and if you didn’t he wondered if that was partially his fault.

When he was at the bar, he had previously resolved himself into drifting away from you and the feelings you had towards him. Was it his stubbornness to get away from you what caused you to not be here? Or were you here in this world, but as someone completely different than the Y/n he knew? Could you exist with a whole different personality? Were you a hero? A villain? Or maybe still just a regular citizen?

Dabi immediately wanted to start looking for you, but with everything linked to you not even existing, he didn’t know where to start. Typing your name into his phone’s searching engine did nothing to help as nothing about you was listed anywhere. Okay, so you weren’t famous, or infamous in any sense so you had to be just a regular, everyday person? Right?

Sighing, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, trying to think. He could always ask one of his connections to start looking for you in his stead. Then, his eyes opened again as he scowled- once again growing irritated. Why was he putting your whereabouts above trying to figure out how to get back- or wake up? He had unconsciously put you above how to get out of this dream.

Bringing a curled fist to rest against the side of his head, he hissed through his teeth.

“God dammit.”

-x-x-x-

It was Dabi’s second day in this dreamscape he started calling it. It was a strange feeling, being inside of a dream yet still having the ability to fall asleep and wake up again. He sat on his bed of his apartment he owned in this dreamscape and sighed. It was a far cry from his place in reality, tucked and hidden away from main streets and curious eyes. This place was just off a busy street and when he hung out the window to smoke, people were walking two stories below- just minding their day.

Puffing out a plume of cigarette smoke, he heard his phone ping from inside on the desk sat in the bedroom. He would always mentally correct himself into saying ‘his’ instead of acting like this place was some random hole in the wall. It was his- as far as he knew. He left his cigarette perched on the window sill, going to his phone and yanking it off the charger to see a text from Shigaraki.

Compress had blabbed to the leader of this dream’s League of Villains about Dabi’s little breakdown of what he believed was a dream. Seeing the text of ‘you still high, or you coming to work or not?’ made his lips twitch. He wasn’t high and he hadn’t been high; then again, it wouldn’t be any version of Shigaraki unless he was mocking Dabi for something. In this case, it was Dabi’s die hard claim of this dreamscape being a false reality.

When Dabi stopped to think about it, he could understand where everyone was coming from. For all he knew, this body- the body of Touya- was a completely different person in this reality and Dabi’s personality just manifested into it. He ran his fingers through his white hair and groaned, annoyed at the situation.

“Fucking parallel universes and their stupid ass rules.”

He sent a reply back to the leader- well, it was just a middle finger emoji- and abandoned his phone to go finish his cigarette before it burned away on its own, unattended.

Once he burned through the toxic stick, he snuffed it out on a glass ashtray he kept on the small balcony just outside the window and retreated back inside his room. Reaching up and over his head behind him, he gripped the back of his shirt and tugged it off, shaking his already messy hair out before he started to change.

It was odd seeing a full closet of clothes instead of like the five whole outfits he would interchange on a day-to-day basis before cleaning them and repeating the process. In reality, he had no use for everyday clothes since he was always wearing his villain gear or lounging around in close to nothing at his apartment. Though, he did remember that you had bought him clothes to keep at your place, so he did have more- just never wore them because he thought it was weird you were buying clothes for him.

You claimed it was so he would stop walking around in nothing but boxers or tank tops in your house, but he didn’t buy that excuse. He saw it as something to intimate; too close to a bond he was too afraid to acknowledge.

Pulling on a grey shirt and black pants- him being the most comfortable in his safe feeling monochromatic wardrobe- he tugged on a jacket and flipped the hood up. At this point it was a habit to try and conceal himself now- even if he probably didn’t need to in this dreamscape reality.

Leaving the room and soon the apartment, he was soon pulling his phone from his jacket pocket and seeing an incoming call from the hand-freak himself. Groaning, he contemplated denying the call, but if this Shigaraki was anything like the one he knew, he'd just blow up his phone in retaliation. So, reluctantly, he picked up.

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. Where are you?” His tone was impatient and gruff. “You need to get to the bar, we have work to do, dammit.”

“I’m workin’ on it, calm the hell down.” The low murmurs of the daily street this early in the morning with people making their daily commute to wherever the hell they were on their way too was just enough to make Dabi’s scarred skin crawl. He always tried to avoid crowded areas in the past for numerous reasons, not just for the sake of his identity.

However, it was easy to navigate the streets since they were exactly the same as he remembered from his reality. The more he was here, the more he came to the realization that everything was the same besides him and you- or lack thereof.

Hearing Shigaraki bitch and moan on the other end of the line, Dabi sighed and pulled the phone from his ear and promptly hung up the call before he shoved his phone back into his pocket- but not before putting it on ‘do not disturb’, so even if the annoyance he calls a boss calls him back, he wouldn’t know.

Not too long later, the pyro was walking into the bar, seeing the leader annoyingly tapping his fingers on the bar one at a time in succession as he seemed to be calming down from a temper tantrum. A temper tantrum that Dabi was most certainly the cause of.

“It’s about time,” the leader hissed as Dabi promptly ignored him, only giving him a tut in response to his neediness. Flipping off his hood and messing around his hair to feel less matted from the hood’s previous pressure, he moved to the back of the bar and plopped himself down into a booth. “I said we need to get to work,” Shigaraki started complaining, “not take a breather because you couldn’t show up on time.”

“Spare me the bitching, oh-so-fearsome-leader,” Dabi waved off lazily with his hand flopping back and forth on his wrist. If Shigaraki hadn’t had his father’s hand on his face, Dabi probably would have seen the scowl painted beneath it.

It was silent for a beat, with the two of them and Kurogiri only being present in the bar at the moment.

“Is your attitude still shitty because you’re convinced this is one big fever dream? Because, if you’re stoned or drunk, I’d really rather you not mess up our jobs and go away.”

“If this is your form of concern, you’re shitty at it,” Dabi rebutted. “I already told you, I’m as sober as a rock, so hop off. If you were in my place, you wouldn’t be slap-happy either.”

All day long, Dabi had to deal with orders being barked at him before he eventually went out on his own to look for possible new villains to recruit for the cause. He was hardly being mindful, low-level thugs weren’t cut out to join the ranks and anyone else just annoyed him. When he finally had enough and called Shigaraki that he was finishing up for the day, he just hung up without getting a proper ‘okay’ and stared at himself in the reflection of a window in an alleyway.

He raised his lip in annoyance as his reflection that he wasn’t familiar with anymore. Who he was looking at wasn’t Dabi, but Touya. The Touya who was dead until he decided otherwise, the Touya who looked too much like his parents. His previous red hair that faded to match his mother and his eyes that were copies of his fathers.

On his way back to the apartment he stopped by a general store and picked up two boxes of hair dye. That evening, when he finished showering, he ran his hand across the width of his steam fogged mirror and looked at his new reflection. He let an awkward smile breach his face as he looked at his pitch-dyed hair.

“That’s better,” he mused, walking out of the bathroom to just put on a pair of boxers, lay in bed and think. Think more about how he could leave this dreamscape all before he passed out, closing his eyes on his second day in a dream. Maybe he’d ask the league members to keep their eyes and ears out tomorrow for you, since the sooner he can figure out what’s happened with you in this place, the sooner he’ll be to a solution… probably?

-x-x-x-

Day after day passed and Dabi found himself less and less sure of anything. When he first came here, he was aware that everything was fabricated and fake- nothing was truly real since he distinctly remembered his life before all this happened.

Now, a month has passed and everyday when he wakes up, he feels more fussy than the day before. His mind and memories feel like their blurring and he started waking up and writing down small memos on post-it notes just to try and get a semblance of reality again. He wondered if one day he’d wake up and see all his notes, just to throw them away because they would have no meaning to that ‘him’.

The thought irked him. He was himself, Dabi knew that, but he felt like he was losing it.

He had woken up today with his head pounding. Leaning over the side of his bed, he held his forehead in his palms as he squeezed his eyes shut. Pushing the heels of his palm into his eyes, he could see the splotches of darkness coat his closed eyes from the presssure. He groaned, head even more hazier than the day before.

Dabi felt like he was forgetting something.

Getting up, he threw on whatever was hanging on the back of his chair in his room and flipped on the hood of whatever jacket he grabbed and left. He wasn’t called to the league just yet, so who knows if he even needed to go today, but maybe being at the bar would jog his memory. Just maybe it would clear his mind- somehow.

When he walked into the bar, he immediately made a beeline to the booth in the back as he laid down, sprawling out across the red velvet booth and covered his eyes with his forearm. One of his legs propped up on the booth while the old hung lazily to the floor, his other arm rest on his chest, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath.

If he just lay here long enough, something was bound to spark something in him, right? After all, he was in a bar.

A bar? What does a bar have to do with anything?

He grit his teeth when he heard the door to the bar open, someone walking in. Whoever it was, they had decided to waltz over to Dab and sit themselves on the short coffee table in front of the booth.

“The fuck do you want?” He growled, a small whistle and the smell of smoke greeted him in the form of a hearty chuckle, one that made him irk.

“My, someone’s grumpy today, isn’t he?” Hearing Giran’s smoke laden voice first thing after laying down really wasn’t how Dabi wanted to start his day. Moving his arm just enough to peer over his arm with a glare, the villain broker raised his hands in mock surrender, a half smoked cigarette between his lips. “Easy there, I’m not looking for a scuffle this early in the morning.”

“Yeah? Then leave me alone or else I’m going to set you on fire.” With another chuckle from the broker and no movement of him leaving his place on the table, Dabi groaned. Moving his arm, he ran his hand over his face before he reluctantly sat up and rubbed the back of his head, his tangles of unbrushed black hair snagging between his fingers. He glared at the tooth-gapped man with a smoking habit worse than his own. “What?” He growled.

Giran dug around in the inside pocket of his tacky blazer before he presented Dabi with a pocketbook. The scarred pyro looked at the blank book before looking back up to Giran’s face, his brows turned up in questioning.

“The fuck is that for?”

“That, my dear Touya,” hearing the broker sing-song Dabi’s real name made him bark at him in warning to never do it again, one that Giran promptly ignored, “is everything I could dig up on that little lady you asked me about a couple weeks ago.”

“Lady?” Dabi’s brows furrowed, his headache spiking again.

“I gotta say, I’m not usually one for such slow work, but with the villain count spiking, I’m a busy man. I got a lot on my plate, so I had to put your little search on the back burner.” Tossing the pocketbook onto Dabi’s lap, one of his scarred hands immediately held it to his leg to keep it from bouncing off his leg onto the floor. Giran then stood, stuffing his hands into his equally tacky trousers. “A man as busy as me has things to do, so I’ve gotta bounce. Talk to me again if you need anything else.” Giran turned but stopped short, swiveling to look at Dabi once more. ”Oh and as for that woman’s whereabouts, don’t be so bummed when you read about it.”

Dabi watched Giran leave the bar about as quickly as he came in, the smell of smoke the only lingering thing indicating that he was even there to begin with Well, that and the pocketbook Dabi held in his hands. He eyed it with narrow eyes and knit brows.

“Lady? What lady was I-?” He cut himself off as he just shut his eyes and tossed the book onto the coffee table where Giran had previously sat.

All morning, Dabi kept to himself on his booth, just lounging and laying around. Every time someone went towards him he’d growl at them, not like it did anything to deter them away regardless. However, if someone even though about touching the pocketbook, he’d sit up and snatch it away and stuff it under his legs or his back or his head- just away from their grabby hands. Whatever info was in there, they didn’t need to pry into his business.

It was well into the afternoon when Dabi had his fill of the noise that only got louder over time in the bar and dismissed himself, leaving as he heard Toga calling out behind him before going back to whatever the hell she had been doing.

The pocketbook was in his hands folded to rest against the inside of his wrist as he walked around the streets, not wanting to go home, but not wanting to be nowhere. His desire to be somewhere, along with his annoyance accompanying that desire- but, not having any idea on where to be- unconsciously lead him down roads and through alleys to a run down, abandoned building.

“A bar?” He questioned himself out loud, not knowing why this place seemed familiar to him. He felt like he should know this place, but it felt like the way it was right now- run down and in shambles- was wrong. His head ached and he found himself climbing through a busted window to get inside.

Dust plumed under his boots when he landed inside the place. He began to wander around, dragging his hands along walls, kicking rubble with the toes of his boots, scanning the falling apart shelves that barely hung on the walls. Moving to the back room past the vacant kitchen covered in dust and smelling like the inside of a mechanical pencil, he placed his hand on a wall next to a staircase that led upwards away from the other empty rooms.

“This wall,” his eyes narrowed in both pain from his pounding head and his fuzzy recollection, “shouldn’t be here. Isn’t there supposed to be a door?” His palm that was flat against the wall curled into a fist, his knuckles pushing against the cold stone. “A door? Why would I-”

Dabi silenced himself as he snatched his hand away from the wall as if the structure was suddenly covered in some sort of burning acid.

“Fuck this,” he growled. He turned his back to the wall, ready to leave and clear his head, but stopped as soon as he went to take a step out. He glanced up the stairs before his feet started taking him up them, entering the would-be apartment through the rotting, crooked door.

He stood in the middle of the space that would be a small living room, his headache dulling, but just faintly. The feeling in the pit of his stomach clawed and deep in his head screamed that he was forgetting something; something important.

He pushed the pad of his thumb into the crease of his forehead, between his furrowed brows. Something was missing, wrong, just not fucking right here. Pushing his thumb harder against his skull, he tried blocking everything out and picking at every corner of his brain he could to think for a moment.

‘You keep doing that, you’ll put a dent in your head’

Dabi’s eyes shot open, breath catching in his throat as he swallowed back a cough from the sudden intake of breath. His hands dropped from his head to hover in front of him, elbows tucked by his sides. His senses were alert as he whipped around, looking around the empty apartment space.

“Who’s there?!” He shouted, his echoing voice bouncing back to him as he listened for any sounds to give away who he may have heard.

He heard someone- a woman- as clear as day. It seemed to echo- but given the empty room, it wouldn’t be shocking for voices to carry and bounce like that, after all his did. Standing in silence, he heard absolutely nothing. No breathing, no sounds of movement, no more voices. Just silence surrounded him- and a slight ringing in his ears.

The moment he started to settle down, thinking it was all in his head- which thrilled him- again, the same voice echoed around the room.

‘Don’t just take up space you- actually, take up as much space as you want if you heat the place up. My heater just went out, so come on Space-Heater, hop to it’

He started to think a league member was toying with him. Did someone from the bar follow him? Was this a quirk to dick him around for a lark? Then, he remembered the pocketbook.

It had been in his free hand the whole time, but he had forgotten about it. He quickly flipped it open and inside were small clippings and photos of a woman taped inside. Like some cryptid profile in a recluses dairy; much like Giran’s shady, handiwork to be expected.

The more he flipped through the pages and read, the more his head pounded.

‘Dabi’

The voice called him by name as he dropped the pocketbook. Spinning around with a waft of blue fire coming out of his arm in sheer instinct to protect himself from whatever may be around him. The voice ignited his fight or flight and Dabi was never one to run, ever a fighter. Fleeing wasn’t in his nature- not even when he was a child.

‘Was it too trouble to keep remembering?’

“Who the fuck are you? Where are you hiding?!”

‘You rejected me to this extent? That you forgot me entirely? Is this really your dream?’

… Dream?

His eyes widened before he looked back down to the open pocketbook at his feet. It lay pages facing up, open on a page he hadn’t yet read. His fire simmered and he starred down at the open spread. Slowly kneeling, he gently ran his fingers over the clippings and the single picture on the opposing page.

It was a photo of a gravestone.

The date of death wasn’t that far back; rather, it was pretty damn recent. This person, this woman, was dead?

Dabi felt small flames lick at the scars under his eyes as he stared down unblinking.

“Y/n?”

It all hit him like a bus. The memories he had slowly forgotten about came back to him and it knocked the breath from his chest. He stood to his feet and rushed downstairs, leaving the pocketbook in the empty apartment he finally remembered was supposed to be yours. On the way down to the bar, he nearly tripped on the stairs before he stood behind the bar top and looked out into the room.

Was it always this hard to breath?

Was all this his fault?

He remembered the emotions he used to push all the way down into his gut. Did his want to put distance between the two of you kill you in this dreamscape? This fake reality?

For a time, he forgot about time itself as he sat on the floors of the once lively bar he remembered. He ran you- your name, your face, your voice, your stupidly good heart, everything- on repeat in his head to ensure his memory wouldn’t slip away from him again. He was just a breathing corpse, or so he felt like. He didn’t even feel like smoking for once, even if his stress was through the roof.

His eyes flicked up when the rusted, busted doors of the trashed building opened to see two figures enter. The sun had long since set and the only light in the room now was two bright flashlights searching and finding his slouched body under the bar, facing the door.

From the shadows casted by the flashlights and the figures outlines, he could see two policemen in front of him. His eyes traveled away from them down to his palms, irritation flooding his head at their intrudance to his safe space.

“Hey!” One cop called to him, making their way towards his floor-slumped body, careful not to trip.

Was it his fault?

“This is private property.”

Did you end up a dead stranger because he kept pushing you away?

“Sir, you need to leave immediately.”

Why was this bothering him so fucking much?

“Can you hear me?”

He was brought out of his self pity when the cop who now stood next to him had gripped his arm and hauled him to his feet. Dabi’s body was still slack, not putting in too much effort to keep himself upright. He felt his back dig into the bar behind him, the only thing beside the cop tightly gripping his arm, holding him up.

Had he ever felt his miserable before, beside back when-

“Sir!” Dabi winced when the cop damn near shouted in his ear. He wasn’t some old man. He could hear perfectly fine. His scarring on his ears hadn’t made him deaf.

“-off me,” Dabi muttered. The cop not hearing him, asked him to repeat himself. Dabi’s lethargic face tensed in fury as he ripped his arm out of the policeman’s grasp and brought his other arm up to knock his fist into the cop’s jaw. “Get the fuck off me!” He yelled.

The cop dropped his flashlight as he fell to the ground, half out of it from the way Dabi punched his jaw- nearly knocking him completely out. The other was quick to draw his gun and point it at the villain, but it wasn’t quick enough.

Dabi was no fool. The moment he knocked the first cop on his ass, he knew the second would act. Grabbing the wrist of the second one as he tried pointing his gun towards him, Dabi twisted the policeman's wrist, disarming him and shoving his head through the small window in the front entrance.

He didn’t need light to see that the cop he held against the door, head just barely through a window, was bleeding. Dabi had turned him around, keeping one of his hands on one of the cop’s arms behind his back and the other on his head, keeping him uncomfortably pushed against the glass frame, nou doubt cutting up his skin further.

“You think you scumbags can just waltz in here and disrupt me? I happened to be in the middle of fuckin’ something.”

“B-but,” the cop he held captive began to try and argue, “this is private property!” He gasped.

Dabi’s eyes rolled in annoyance. “I don’t give a shit,” he seethed before his palms ignited. The policeman’s head was soon engulfed in blue fire as well as his wrist before his clothes ignited as well and the entire man was on the ground, a dead, burning mess.

The smell was familiar to him- the first familiar thing he’s felt in a while. He left the bar behind him, the space being intruded by law enforcement made it feel different. It wasn’t his space anymore. As he made his way down the street at the dead of night, he soon heard sirens and screeching of tires making their way down streets. Looking behind him, in the dark, clouded night sky, he saw outlines of smoke and fire in the distance.

“Looks like the building is gonna burn down,” he spoke to himself before he made his way further down the street. Passing a random building he didn’t even know, he reached his hand out and ignited it, setting drapes and signs on fire.

As he made his way down roads, he set building after building, house after house on fire. Soon, he stood at the end of the main street, blue on either side of the road and screaming from inside the buildings. People scrambling to get into the open, the panic of being in the middle of a blazing area with no idea on how the fire started.

It was pure hysteria.

People ran past him standing still on the sidewalk. Everyone was terrified and panicked as he didn’t seem at all bothered by anything happening. He stared blankly, uninterested with his hands in his pockets as he just gazed at his flames that ate everything it touched and spread like a plague.

As he stared, losing track of time once more, he felt something push against the back of his neck. He smiled, knowing the feel of a gun all too well.

“I guess not knocking you out worked in your favor, huh?” He knew it was the cop he clocked in the jaw at your bar.

By the time the firey lump of his coworker started eating the building, he probably regained enough sense to leave the building and chase him down. Not in time to spare the buildings and homes being eaten alive by his fire, but in time to threaten him just when he was ready to start enjoying the show.

“Sorry about your pal,” Dabi chided, “but he said a lot of shit that just pissed me off? I mean, private property? Come on.” The villain didn’t turn to look at the cop, just felt the man push the gun’s tip against his scarred neck further. “Don’t tell me you’re gun shy? Come on, pull the trigger.”

His self-destructive words were absolutely insane, urging the man with a gun at his neck to shoot him? It wasn’t like Dabi expected the cop to not have the balls, he knew cops and they didn’t care what they had to do to keep villains at bay. Dabi had just set fire to everything, the entire world in his vision burning as he spoke- that only was enough proof to the cop he was indeed a villainous man.

“It’s not my place to judge-”

“The fuck it isn’t!” Dabi laughed, whirling around and taking hold of the front of the gun and pushing it against his chest. “Pull the trigger you pathetic excess of a protector of the public!”

Maybe it was his words, his temptation to espcae this fake reality oozing out, his insane smile that pulled at the staples across his face or maybe it was just the policeman’s sudden decision- but the trigger was pulled and Dabi, felt for just a moment, a bullet tear through his chest.

-x-x-x-

Dabi’s eyes cracked open, vision blurry as he stared at a ceiling. His mind was fuzzy and his head pounded with a headache he immediately took to noticing, even if he had just opened his eyes moments ago.

He felt something behind his head, something covering his body and heard noises of machines humming besides where he was laying. Annoyed he was on his back, he groaned, but found his throat drier than desert sand and grumbled to clear it. His body felt heavy and weak as he started to slowly move around on the bed he rested on.

His knees lifted, feet moving as his heels dug into the mattress to push his weak feeling legs up and his arms moved to brace into the mattress to try and lever his body up. After a bit of a fight with his own body, he managed to sit up and his eyes finally focused from their blurriness.

He looked around seeing equipment attached to his arm and patches on his chest that linked to a machine that showed his heartbeat. His chest was bare as he wasn’t wearing his normal jeans, but grey sweats that he didn’t remember actually owning before.

He groaned, his hand coming to push against his head. The headache combined with his confusion was making him feel nauseous. What happened? Had he been somewhere before this? Where was he?

Looking around the small room he was in by himself again, he started to slowly remember. He remembered the dream- his dream- and the dream he had forgotten wasn’t actual reality. Dabi remembered being shot. His heartbeat started to quicken when he started to finally take in the familiarity of the room and it’s concrete walls.

Pulling the patches off his chest, he fumbled with whatever was in his arm and took it out. The scars he was familiar with ran across his body in large proportions and the bangs that hung in front of his eyes were a dark, dyed black.

He felt around his staples on the back of his hands and felt around his stomach and chest, tracing the large scars he knew were the real ones. He pushed his hand through his hair and felt the strands just as he truly remembered.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, moving to swing his legs over the bed and lean into his knees, hunching over as he brought his hands to his forehead- relieved. “I’m back.”

He sat in his own silence and relief to be in a world that finally felt right as he tried regaining himself. He remembered the dream he was stuck in and remembered the lack of your presence- your death in that place. His eyes widened as he stared at the ground before he lifted his head up.

You.

He stood to his feet quickly, but immediately teetered and fell to his ass on the floor. He hissed, angry at how weak his legs felt. He must’ve been sleeping for way too long if his damn legs didn’t want to work.

Dabi growled as he used the bed to get back to his feet and took more cautious steps towards the door to leave the room he was in. The open basement waiting area was empty and dim, not currently being in use.

Using the wall, he ambled the perimeter of the room to come to the stairs that lead to the bar- the bar he was sure was there. The bar that he missed and that bar that didn’t exist in his previous dream without you.

It took Dabi far longer than he’d like to admit to get his legs to climb the stairs, even if they were starting to gather more strength the longer he was awake and the longer he forced them to move and do as he commanded. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as hard as when he originally woke up.

Getting up to the door, he unlocked it before he practically fell through the frame when it opened. Stumbling in, he shut it behind him and leaned his back against it to catch his breath. He stopped and stood still, seeing the doorway into the bar’s kitchen and beyond it. He had to make sure, he had to confirm this was real.

Ambling his way through the space he knew so well, he came out of the back and smirked when he leaned against the doorframe and looked out into your bar. The tables were empty and polished, chairs pushed in neatly and booths clean. He saw the rec room beyond its own doorway and sighed.

“It’s here,” laughed weakly to himself. “It’s all back.” His legs felt tired as he moved around the bar to slide into the barstool he always sat in. Letting his legs rest, he rested his elbow on the bar top and pushed one hand into his hair to hold his head and the other arm stayed on the bar. He began to replay all the memories he had here that he almost completely forgot in his dream.

What would happen if he let that dream consume him? What if he eventually accepted that dream as reality? Would he have forgotten about you like he almost did? would he had died or just slept until he was old and grey? He didn’t know and he didn’t honestly want to think about it.

He missed the polished scent of your pub instead of the dusty, rotten one of the abandoned building in his dream. He felt his shoulder tense when he heard the pub entrance open behind his back. Swiveling just a bit to view the door under his hand that partially covered his vision and his black bangs, his eyes widened at seeing you enter.

You were carrying bags in your arms, head down as you worked on shutting the door and relocking it. You hadn’t even seen him yet, eyes focusing on other things and the task of shutting your door and relieving your arms of the weight of whatever you had just gone out and bought.

He heard you sigh and he mimicked the sound silently. It felt like it had been so long since he heard you. You dropped the bags to your feet, rotating your shoulders to give your arms a break from how long you were carrying them. Dabi could tell from the way you stretched and rolled your neck that you were tired.

His breath stuttered when you turned and your chin came up, eyes finally finding the body sitting at your bar. It took you just a beat to realize that it wasn’t just some stranger who had broken into your closed pub in broad daylight.

You were about as frozen as he was as your jaw dropped, making your mouth go slightly agape. He couldn’t blame you, he guessed. He lifted his head from his hand and gave you a weak, tired smirk.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

You were soon tripping over your bags and rushing to his place at the bar, your hands grabbing his shoulders and pushing him from his slouched position into one that was straighter. You twisted his stool and made him face you as you leaned him back to rest on the bar and inspected him.

Dabi inspected you in the same manner.

He watched as you silently, but frantically pushed your hands across his body. His bare chest was warm and every touch of your fingers made him feel hot. it was like you were confirming that he was real and not some delusion you had made up from stress. He would do that same after the you-less dream he had been succumbed to for fuck-knows how long now, but your warm touch was too comforting- too real to be a just another dream.

Dabi could see your eyes slick over as you just kept trying to silently convince yourself he was in front of you. He furrowed his brows- you hadn’t looked at his face since you saw him and you weren’t saying anything. It irritated him.

The pyro snatched your roaming wrists in his hands as you jolted and went completely still.

“Fuckin’ look at me,” he demanded, his impatience getting the best of him. Slowly, your head lifted and you did. He could see the tears brimming your eyes and he briefly wondered if you could even see him clearly with all those tears in the way of your vision. “Now, talk to me.”

Your mouth fell open, but snapped shut again. Only small sounds coming out. What could you say? You had no idea how to form words in the given situation. What should you say? Ask him how he feels, ask him how he woke up and if he was okay? Ask him why the hell the first thing he did was get up out of bed and come to the bar?

“Let me make this easy,” he told you, a scowl still on his scarred face. He brought one of his hands up to the cup under your jaw, his thumb and fingers pushing your cheeks to make your lips purse , your chin rest in his palm. “Can’t talk? Fine; then just say my name, it should be easy.”

You swallowed. One word, just two short syllables long, that’s it. It really should be easy. Opening your mouth, you did your best to force your locked up voice out.

“Dabi?” You questioned, your brows quirking up as he chuckled, smirking down at you.

“Atta girl,” he whispered before he brought his lips down onto the ones he had pushed out so invitingly to himself. You found your head spinning when Dabi’s hand that held your cheeks and under your jaw, pulled your mouth open so he could push his tongue inside to tangle around yours.

The entire time he roamed your mouth, his eyes stayed open and on yours. Your small huffs of shock dwindled as your wide eyes started to narrow and drop to a lid as your tense body finally slackened.

This is what woke him up- what had him remember, not being shot. His want to be around you, to taste you for the first time and to smell your scene again. Drawing his tongue out of your mouth, he peppered your flushed cheeks and the corner of your lips with small pecks, before greedily taking your lips again. Every time you tried pulling away from him- to get some answers no doubt- he didn’t let you get far as he kept chasing after your lips.

Your taste was so fuckin’ addicting, he almost growled.

Lifting himself up from his barstool, he had forgotten that his legs were weak and he found himself immediately releasing your lips and losing his balance. Grabbing your shoulder and arm to try and keep his balance, you squawked, not ready to hold his weight and you both tumbled to the tile.

You groaned as the man lay on top of you, his arms laying outstretched on either side of your head with his chin next to your neck. When he didn’t move, you brought one of your hands to his back and tapped him gently.

“Uh, Dabi?” You felt his breathing against your own as he just hummed signally that he didn’t just pass out.. “Think you can get off me?” Your voice was weak and without even looking at you, Dabi could imagine the flush that most definitely painted your cheeks a vibrant red.

“No, I don’t think I can,” he chuckled. He felt you fight under him, your arms pushing against his side before you lifted him just a bit before pushing him and sliding yourself out from under him. He groaned. “Fuck, you should treat a patient with more care.”

“Oh, sorry,” you panicked as you were soon grabbing his arm and throwing it over your shoulder and heaving him up. You looked back to your bags of groceries before deeming Dabi’s overall health top priority. You were ready to take him back downstairs to the basement when he stopped you, his free hand shooting out to grab a door frame and keep you from proceeding.

“No,” he denied. “Upstairs. I want to be in your place instead.”

“What? But, Dabi, you’re-”

“I’m fine,” he bit. He couldn’t just outright say that he missed your apartment, especially right to your face. “Just, take me up there instead.” In the end, that stupidly good heart of yours relented and obeyed his request.

Dabi felt like he just reached nirvana when you helped sit him down on your couch. His arms lifted to the back of the couch instinctive and he dropped his head back and shut his eyes, taking in the newfound comfort. He could feel you stand in front of him before he felt the cushion next to him dip, informing him that you had just sat next to him. He could feel your concerned eyes burn into the side of his face.

“You don’t need to stare.”

“Well, you still need to answer some questions.”

Dabi peeled his eyes open, as he tilted his head that still rested back on the cushions to look at you. “Ask away.”

“Okay,” you breathed, not expecting him to be as cooperative. “Well, how do you feel?”

“Better than ever,” your pointed look at his legs made him clear his throat with a chuckle. “Better than ever with a bit of a balance problem.”

“And your neck? Does that hurt?”

“Nope.”

“What about your head, any headaches or eye strain?”

“Had a headache when I woke up, pretty much gone now.”

You ran him back and forth about questions of if he was in pain or any discomfort, and while he normally would have found the entire process annoying, he couldn't help but smile through it. Listening to you talk so much made him feel remarkably better.

“Alright, now for unprofessional questions,” you told him. “Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to go up to the bar as soon as you woke up? I was gone no more than 20 minutes and you somehow climbed your way up there. What if you fell back down the stairs or something?”

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but when I wake up in a basement, I’d like to get out of it,” he joked. “I wanted to see the bar anyway.”

“It’s the same as it’s always been.”

“Not to me.”

“What?” Your twisted face that had been chewing him out the past several minutes had softened at his tone. His joking smirk fell as he looked back at the ceiling and his mouth pressed into a line. Just remembering that awful dream really pissed him off.

“What was the quirk I was under?”

“You,” you started, “you knew you were under the effects of a quirk?”

“Of course I did, I’m not stupid.”

“Well, the guy with the needle fingertips is the one who got you in the neck during that brawl, remember?” Dabi nodded. “His needles contain a type of sedative that sends the affected body to sleep and their mind into a created reality of their dreams. I guess you had a dream, huh?”

“Yeah. A fucking stupid dream where everything was the same expect the important stuff.”

“Important stuff? Like what exactly?”

Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he decided not to tell you about his identity. To you he was still just plain Dabi- the Dabi who took Stain’s words to heart and hated this hero-praised society. If he told you who he really was, what if you looked at him differently? So, he kept it to himself.

“You weren’t there.” You were silent at his side, his gaze moving to focus back on the light fixtures that were turned off above him since the sun was bright enough through the windows to light the living room up. “When I woke up in that dream, you weren’t there. The bar wasn’t there either, it was just some run down building owned by the city. You didn’t know me in that dream, and you died as a stranger to me in that dream too.” His eyes lidded as a grim shadow cast over his face.

“I died? But how-”

“I really don’t want to get into the details.”

“Oh,” you pushed yourself. “That makes sense. Sorry for prying.” It was silent for a beat. You looked away from Dabi, glancing around your living room as he watched you from the corner of his vision. You had stood up from the couch, making him twitch. “I’m going to get you something to drink, you’re probably thirsty. Since you’re recovering though, I’m gonna make you drink a lot of water.”

He was content on letting you do what you wanted, but the thought of you leaving his sight for just a moment made his skin crawl. If you went to the kitchen, you’d be going around a corner and behind a wall, he couldn’t see through walls.

You got one step from the couch when he snatched your wrist and yanked you over. Falling back on the cushions, your back was against Dabi’s side where he had snaked his arm around you, keeping you hostage.

“What are you-?!” Your voice stopped when he dropped his forehead to your shoulder and squeezed you.

“Don’t leave my sight yet.”

“Did my disappearance in your dream really bother you that much?” He cursed you for being so perceptive on why he was suddenly so handsy with you. In the past, he tried to be as mindful of your feelings as possible. He didn’t want to take advantage of your emotions back then, but now it wasn’t quite like before.

“Yeah, it did.” His honesty shocked you. There was no joking undertone and no sound of a smirk on his lips. It was sincere and it was sad.

You relaxed against him, raising one of your hands to push through his hair that tickled your neck and cheek. You wished you had a book or your phone to keep you busy at the very least, but you didn’t. You just traced the design of your apartment’s wallpaper with your eyes, sitting in silence for a while.

“Hey,” you softly called after a while to test if he had fallen asleep. You heard him hum behind you. “Is the reason you did what you did in the bar, because I didn’t exist in your dream?”

Oh fuck.

He had nearly forgotten that he practically shoved his tongue down your throat not that long ago. In the past, maybe he would’ve felt bad about doing that; to you in particular- you being his best friend and the same friend who patched him up on the regular and the friend who got rejected by him. But now, he didn’t feel any regret looking back on the deed.

In fact, the only regret he felt int his moment was the memory of his rejection.

“Can I take it back?”

“The kiss?” You croak? “Well, of course you can. I-”

“Not that, you idiot.”

“What?”

“That time I told you that I didn’t do relationships, when I rejected you. Can I take that back?” Your silence made his stomach churn. God, this is why he hated relationships, why he hated fuckin’ feelings. This is the sole reason he squashed what he felt towards you down into the pit of his stomach. Now it’s all coming back up to burn his throat like a case horrible heartburn.

“Dabi, this isn’t a joke to me.”

“I know, I’m not that much of a prick.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Not to you, I’m not.” The moment you opened your mouth to argue against him again, he bit into your neck, making you squawk and kick your legs out before bopping the top of his head with your hand that had been previously brushing through his hair. Which didn’t help your case, since all it did was knock his teeth into your skin more before he unlatched from you. “Hey,” he spoke as he moved to push his cheek against the top of your head so there was no way you could even get a glance at his face. “If you think you still like me, then I think I like you too.”

Dabi felt you start laughing before he heard it. He felt like he was going to burst into flames as you squirmed around in his arms, laughing like he just told the world's worst dad joke. He pinched into your sides, making you yelp between laughs. When you settled down, you just rested against him willingly and hummed.

“That’s not how you ask a someone out, Dabi.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Neither is that.”

“That’s it,” he finalized with himself as he planted his chin on top of your head with enough force to make you whine in dull pain. “Just for that, I’m not taking you on any good dates. It’s just concrete basements and empty fridges for you.”

Yu gasp. “That is not how you treat your girlfriend!”

“I don’t remember asking you to be that to me?”

“You son of a-”

He pushed a hand over your mouth, muffling you as he felt you smile against his palm. Tiling your head back to look up and back at him, he pulled his hand away from your lips and pushed a finger in front of his own, shushing you.

“You sure you want me?” He asked. “Last chance to back out of it.”

“Well,” you answered, “do really you want me?”

Dabi rolled his eyes. Like he would flake out after all this, you should know better than to ask him something like that. He was meticulous, he wouldn’t be so certain of something like this if he hadn’t thought it over first. He’s had his time without you and now he’s gonna make certain that it never happens again.

“Oh, baby, I only want you.” Your face flushed and he kissed the end of your nose- since your lips were too far away from this angle to reach. “Now turn around dammit, I want to kiss you properly.”

That stupidly good heart of yours never fails to listen.

-END-

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justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Make it Work: Chapter 4

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: This is a monster of a chapter. I honestly could have split it into two separate chapters, but I felt like the flow of the story went better having it all be in one. If you watch FBI or have at least seen Hailey’s episode, there’s a familiar character in this chapter ;) as well as some newbies. Reach out if you would like to be added to the taglist for future chapters! As always, thank you for following my stories and for all of the kind words!

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias

Read on AO3 or below

Jay’s first night in the city wasn’t pleasant. Both he and Hailey hired moving services to ship their things from Chicago to New York prior to their move. Because of this, they spent their last few days in Chicago living out of duffle bags and travel toiletries in hotel rooms. The hope was that by the time they arrived in New York, unpacking was the only thing they’d have to worry about. However, when Jay walked into his apartment for the first time, only half of his things were waiting for him. He tried contacting the moving company, but being that it was so late, all he got was an automated message. Wherever the rest of his things were, his mattress, couch, and any sort of seating he had were all with it. This left him sleeping on the floor, using whatever he could find in the mess of boxes filling the apartment to build a makeshift bed. It was something he had done plenty of times before, especially while he was stationed overseas. However, as proven the next morning, his body just wasn’t cut out for it like it used to be. He was sore all over, making the rest of the day miserable.

The first thing he did was reach out to the moving company. He found out that of the two trucks that were carrying his things, one of them had gotten delayed somewhere in Pennsylvania. That particular truck just so happened to be the one carrying his mattress, bed frame, and couch. He figured in the meantime, he would unpack the things he had. However, he found it increasingly difficult to maneuver around due to the ache mainly centered around his back.

After a few hours of progress, he decided to take a break, leaning his back against the wall and sliding his body down until he was in a sitting position on the floor. He hadn’t had a chance to get groceries of any sort, so he was hungry and in desperate need for painkillers, but he couldn’t find it in himself to leave that spot on the floor, let alone his apartment. He threw his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as his face scrunched up from pain. He was about to pick up his phone and text Hailey when there was a knock at the door. He stood with a groan, holding at the lower part of his back as the motion sent a sting of pain up his body.

When he opened the door, Hailey was standing there with a 6 pack of beer and a cheerful smile on her face. The smile faded as she realized he was clenching his back in pain.

“What happened to you?” She asked, her brows furrowing as she looked him up and down.

“Nice to see you too,” he said, moving out of the way to let her in. She stepped inside, making her way to his kitchen counter to place the beers down.

“Yeah, hi or whatever… What happened to you?” She asked again, looking at him with a puzzled look.

“Stupid moving truck carrying the other half of my stuff got delayed, so I was left sleeping on the floor. I do not recommend that by the way,” he said, grabbing one of the beers and making his way to sit back on the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve just spent the night with me,” she said. Her eyes immediately widened and Jay sent her a raised brow, a confused smile on his face as she said it. He noticed her turn red and he rubbed at his mouth and chin to conceal a smile escaping across his face.

“Ah I mean, you know you could have slept at my place on the couch,” she stammered over her words as she turned to look around his apartment, avoiding eye contact with him completely.

“It was like 3am. I didn’t want to bother you and I was too tired to even consider that. Thanks though,” he told her taking a swig of the beer. “Thanks for these too by the way,” he said, raising the beer in the air.

“Yeah of course. So when’s your stuff supposed to be here?” She questioned, playing with a small Chicago Bears figurine he had rested on a shelf.

“They said sometime this afternoon. Really hoping they’re right because I don’t think my body can take another night on the floor,” he told her, his eyes following her as she moved about the room.

“Yeah, you better watch it. Might not be able to get back up next time, old man,” she told him with a smirk, grabbing a beer from the counter and coming to sit crossed legged across from him on the floor. He wiped the condensation from his bottle and flung the water droplets at her, causing her to flinch.

“Hey!” She called out, guarding her face with her hands.

“Call me old again,” he challenged with a grin. She held her hands up in surrender and he retreated.

“So I like your place. How are you liking New York so far?” She asked him, placing one hand behind her and leaning back on it as she brought the bottle to her lips.

“Well considering I’ve only seen the inside of this apartment, I feel like I can’t answer that. How about you? How’s your apartment coming along?”

“Really good actually. Most of the major stuff has been arranged, now I just have to unpack all of the tedious things - dishes, silverware, knick knacks, all that,” she told him. He nodded as he adjusted his position against the wall. She sent him a concerned look when she saw him flinch and grasp at his back.

“Can I get you anything? We could stop by the store and get you some medicine then we could go back to my place. You could check it out, we could order some food, you could actually have a comfortable place to sit too,” she offered him.

“You had me at get you some medicine,” he beamed. She chuckled and stood, extending a hand towards him to help him up. Being that he was much heavier than her, she really had to pull to help him up. When he was finally on his feet, he was only inches away from her, their hands remaining together for longer than they should’ve. He could feel his heart picking up rhythm in his chest by her touch, so he quickly released his hand, bringing it to the back of his neck before chugging the rest of his beer and tossing it in the trash bin by the counter.

After picking up painkillers and dinner, the two made their way to Hailey’s apartment. Following Hailey into the apartment, Jay’s eyes studied the space, noting how accurately it represented her personality. It wasn’t completely put together yet. There were still boxes lying around sporadically across the floor, but for the most part it was simple and organized much like her. Hailey made her way to the living room where she set the food down on the coffee table before planting herself on the couch. Jay followed suit, falling onto the couch and letting himself sink into the cushions. Hailey popped open the bottle of aspirin they picked up at the store, offering him a bottle of water and 3 pills. As he took them, he realized how instinctively she was caring for him and how natural it felt to be in such a domestic setting with her. She pulled out his food, sitting it in front of him and snapping him out of his roaming thoughts.

“So, are you nervous about tomorrow?” She asked him, settling back into the couch as she took her fork out of the plastic wrapper. She was referring to it being their first day. Jay hadn’t confronted his feelings about it until that moment.

“I would tell you no, but we both know that would be a lie,” he admitted. She flashed him a knowing smile before continuing.

“What are you most worried about?”

“Nothing in particular, I just know it’s going to be a lot different than what I’m used to. Every fed I’ve ever worked with has been a pompous jackass, in it for the optics more than the actual people they’re trying to help. I know what we’ll be doing will be important, I guess my reservations come from a combination of not wanting to deal with that and not wanting to turn into that,” he told her, a solemn look overcoming his face. Her face formed into a frown and her stare fell to her plate as she seemed to silently think through her response.

“You know my first day, I walked into that building already carrying this sort of forced regard for the place. I had those same reservations you carry for the feds, but I respected what they did so I forced myself to walk into it all with a sort of blind respect. My first interaction with OA wasn’t so great. He made some backhanded comment and you know me, I don’t take stuff like that, so I threw it back at him. Made him realize I saw through what he was really trying to say. The more time I was there, I realized that even though they don’t all go about it the best way, everyone is there to do their part and take the bad guys off the street. While that type of mentality you described certainly exists among many of the people we’ll work with, I think the perspective we can bring will have a similar impact as what went down with OA that day. We put ‘em in check and they sort the rest out themselves. You’re a good cop, and that’s just what these units need. So whatever fears you have, I wouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on them because you’re going to be great,” she told him, smiling briefly before immediately diving back into her food.

Her words reassured him. He still felt some apprehension about the next day, but she leveled him enough to instill a bout of confidence he hadn’t previously carried. After finishing their dinner, Jay relished in the comfort of the couch and the relief brought on by the painkillers. Hailey had put a tv show on in the background, but Jay was watching it absentmindedly. He noticed his eyes get heavier and heavier, and when exhaustion eventually caught up to him, he fell asleep. He was woken up with a light shake from Hailey. His eyes blinked open and he took in the sight of her slightly hovered over him.

“Hi,” she said as he fully opened his eyes and pushed himself into a straighter sitting position.

“How long have I been out?” He asked her, rubbing at his eyes and stirring about in a blanket he didn’t remember having before. He realized Hailey must have put it on him while he was sleeping and he stifled a smile as he awaited her answer.

“About an hour. Your phone was ringing and I picked it up. I hope you don’t mind,” she told him, holding the phone out to him. He took it from her, squinting his eyes at the brightness of the screen.

“No, it’s fine. Who was it?” He asked, looking at a number he didn’t recognize and looking back at her for her response.

“It was the movers, they said they’re coming in about an hour,” she told him, standing to clear their empty take out containers from the table. He looked down at the time and threw the blanket off his body gently before folding it into a more manageable size. He then picked up what was left on the table and brought it into the kitchen to help her clean up.

“I guess I better get going,” he told her, looking for his coat.

“Okay, yeah. Here’s the painkillers. You may need them again later,” she told him, handing him the bottle from before.

“Thanks for taking care of me today,” he told her, tilting his head slightly as he sent her a warm smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” she shook her head with a grin. “See you tomorrow?”

“You know it,” he told her, opening the door to leave. Just as she went to close it behind him, he pushed it back open slightly. “Also, thank you for what you said earlier. It helped a lot.”

She returned his words with a slight nod before he turned to make his way to the elevator. The rest of the night he felt like there was an oddly natural shift in their relationship. The way she cared for him and reassured him seemed so much more than their usual platonic dynamic. It was like they crossed some sort of line without making a thing of it, and it made his heart rush just thinking about it. Though, he decided to not think about it. Instead, he tried to focus on the change they were set to endure that next day.

- - - -

Jay woke the next morning in the comfort and familiarity of his bed. The night before, the movers brought the last of his things into his place, and he felt relieved to not have to sleep on the floor once again. After taking a shower, he stood in his bedroom in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers, staring down at the suit he had laid out for the day. It was a tangible symbol of his new life, and it made him nervous. He only ever had to wear a suit for two things: funerals and court, and those never came with good memories. He finally psyched himself up enough to put it on, looking in the mirror as he adjusted the tie around his neck. He took a breath, briefly staring back at his own reflection in the mirror before moving to his bedroom and pulling his gun from a safe in the closet. He secured it in the holster on his belt before pulling on his jacket, buttoning the top two buttons to conceal it from view.

He met Hailey outside of the building. They first had to get their photos taken for their identification and badges before making their way up to the new unit. He immediately recognized how nice everything was, even just the equipment they used to make their IDs was far more advanced than anything he’d ever seen. As soon as they handed the badge to him and he placed it on his hip, everything settled in. This was his new life. His new job. The nerves kicked in as they made their way up to their floor. He fidgeted in the elevator, pulling at the sleeves of his coat and adjusting his tie every few seconds. Hailey clocked his jumpiness from the corner of her eye.

“Dude, you need to relax,” she told him with a chuckle, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder.

“I know, I know,” he all but whispered.

He was feeling very out of his element. First days can be nerve wrecking in general, but this seemed new and unfamiliar to him. His transition from Organized Crime to Intelligence felt natural. There was a comfort about the ruggedness of Intelligence that put him at ease on his first day; it made him feel like he fit in. This though? Suits, million dollar tech, fancy buildings, it all seemed so far out of his league and he was having trouble calming his nerves.

There was a brief silence before he blurted out, “I just really hate suits,” he admitted, putting his energy into the discomfort he was feeling about the attire.

“Eh, I do too, but you get used to it. Just, relax though. You’re going to be great, they’re going to be great. It’ll be fine… You look great by the way,” she reassured him with her dimpled grin. He flashed an unconvincing smile at her and took a deep breath just as the elevator doors opened.

Organized chaos is how he would have described the room before him. Everyone in the room was busily distracted by something. It seemed to be a meticulous operation, but it was a much larger scale than what he was used to in Intelligence.

“Hailey Upton!” An excited voice called out as they exited the elevator.

“OA? The hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be a few floors down?” She asked as Jay watched a stranger grab her in a hug. He was tall, so tall in fact that he made Hailey look miniature.

“Yeah, I heard you started today so I thought I’d come say hello,” he said as his eyes met Jay’s over Hailey’s shoulder. As they pulled away from the embrace, Hailey turned to gesture towards an awkward smiling Jay.

“OA, I’d like to introduce you to my partner, Jay.”

“So you’re the illustrious Jay. Hailey told me a lot about you, specifically that you were a Ranger. I was a Captain, two tours in Iraq,” OA said, reaching a hand out to shake Jay’s.

“No way, I did two in Afghanistan. 75th Regiment, 3rd Battalion,” he said, shaking his hand back firmly. “Hailey told me a lot about you as well by the way. Thanks for looking out for her all those weeks,” he continued.

“Yeah, well I think you got it backwards, it was her who was looking out for me,” he said sending a smile Hailey’s way.

“Yeah, he’s alright… for a fed,” she said with a shrug and a mischievous grin.

“What do you mean? You know you’re a fed now too, right?” he laughed back.

“Shhh don’t tell anyone,” she replied jokingly.

“Secret’s safe with me, but I have a feeling they’ll find out eventually,” he said waving a finger at the busy room around them. “Anyway, it was good seeing you Chicago, but I gotta head back to JOC. Catch ya later?” OA said backing away towards the elevator.

“Yeah, for sure,” she responded.

“Hey man, nice meeting you!” Jay called out.

“Yeah, you too!” OA replied as he climbed into the elevator.

Jay felt more at ease by the interaction. Seeing how comfortable Hailey was in this environment and how well she got on with OA lowered his nerves a bit. He figured if everyone with the bureau was like him, adjusting may be easier than he thought. He followed Hailey as she made her way over to a group of people gathered by a large screen. When they were close enough, Hailey cleared her throat catching the attention of them all, heads spinning around to look at the two of them.

“Detective… or should I say Special Agent Upton, great to see you again. Welcome,” one of them said, extending a hand out to shake hers.

“Agent Reynolds, likewise. This is Jay Halstead,” she said with a nod towards Jay.

“Jay Halstead, it’s nice to officially meet you, I’m Drake Reynolds, Assistant Special Agent in Charge. Welcome to the FBI,” he said, reaching his hand out to meet Jay’s. “Everyone on the team just calls me Drake by the way,” he said, darting his eyes back to Hailey to correct her.

“Nice to meet you as well, sir,” Jay replied.

“Right. Now, normally we’d do a more official welcome, you know get to meet everyone and everything, but we just had a really urgent case come in so I’m going to have you two jump right in if that’s okay,” Drake told them. They nodded as he made his way to the front of the room to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, everyone we caught a live one this morning. Subject is Eli Sarkova, Latvian national who has been on many federal agencies’ radars for a while now. Sarkova is said to run one of the major trafficking rings out of Eastern Europe with strong ties right here in New York. NYPD picked up one of his connections, Andris Ozola, last night. They called us and now he is sitting in our interrogation room where one of our agents was able to pull out intel that Sarkova is right here in Manhattan for the first time in months. Ozola didn’t have a direct location, but we do know where his driver is expected to be at 11 am today, so we’re sending a team to go pick him up. Driver’s name is Edgars Berlina, white male, 6’2”, 185 pounds, bald, with ironically, a tattoo of angel wings on his neck. Berlina and any crew he’s with are most definitely going to be armed and dangerous. Memorize his picture, he’s going to be in a public area so we need to play this one right,” Drake said as he addressed the whole room.

“Bennett and Burrows, I want you two riding with Halstead and Upton today. Show them the ropes and answer any questions they may have about the field,” he told two agents to his right. They nodded in agreement, flashing warm smiles to the partners before Drake left the four of them standing there.

“Agent Daisy Bennett,” the female agent said extending her hand out to each of them. “And this is Walker Burrows,” she said, gesturing to the male agent by her side. Jay picked up on a lingering look Agent Burrows gave Hailey as he shook her hand. He frowned at this slightly as Hailey introduced herself.

“Hailey Upton, good to meet you both.”

“Jay Halstead,” he said shortly, continuing a stern stare at the man in front of him whose gaze continued to remain on Hailey.

“Follow us to the garage. The gear is already in the car, so we can get suited up out there,” Daisy said, turning to walk down the hall to the elevators.

“So you’re both from Chicago. Detectives, right?” Walker questioned, pressing the button for the garage.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jay replied, carrying his gaze straight ahead of him. “I gotta say, it’s already a culture shock. I’m not used to having intel handed to us like this. Usually we’re digging for this stuff ourselves,” Jay admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I’m sure as hell glad we don’t have to worry about that. We get to do the actual important stuff like actually taking down the targets,” Walker replied. Jay shot Hailey a cross look, one that she returned, but he decided to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to challenge the man already in the first 5 minutes of meeting him. Maybe it was because he was used to doing the intel work himself, but Jay saw the value in all of it. Hearing the man so easily disregard other positions in the unit already didn’t sit right with him, but he shook it off for the sake of starting off on the right foot.

When they arrived at the car, Daisy opened the tailgate, pulling out 2 containers of gear.

“I’m not sure how you guys rolled in Chicago, but we have these in-ear coms. They’re fully open channels so you can communicate with any and all of us at all times. Mic button falls near your collar, so keep that in mind,” she said, handing them each ear pieces to put in their ears. “Bureau issued vests. Level IIIA body armor. It’s supposed to protect you even up to point blank range, but will leave a pretty nasty bruise,” she told them as she handed them each a vest. As they took their jackets off to put them on, Hailey looked over at Jay with a cheeky grin.

“Just because it’s good armor, doesn’t mean you need to go testing it out, okay?” She joked as she pulled it over her head, securing the velcro straps on the sides.

“Ha Ha,” he mocked back at her.

“Get shot a lot do you?” Daisy asked as she pulled her hair up in a ponytail.

“Bullet magnet, this man,” Hailey joked, eliciting a laugh from each of them.

Walker drove them to the target location, Daisy riding in the front and Hailey and Jay in the back. Jay didn’t like not being in the front, in control of the car, but he went with it, recognizing it as a temporary thing until they got settled in. When they rolled up, they exited the car, concealing their badges, vests, and weapons as to not be identified as law enforcement before they could get eyes on the target.

“Looks like there’s two entrances to the park. I say you guys take the north end and we’ll take the south. If he’s anywhere-“ Jay began, taking point on tactics as he was so used to doing in Intelligence, but Daisy cut him off.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but you guys are supposed to be following our lead today. I think each of us need to be partnered with you both. So, Walker you go with Hailey to the south end. Jay, you and I will take the north,” she instructed. It made Jay slightly uneasy to be split from Hailey, but he went along with it, acknowledging his unfamiliar role that came from being the new guy. Hailey sent him a reassuring look, silently communicating that everything would be fine. He nodded before they all departed ways.

“Dean, Fisher, your teams in place?” Daisy asked the other team leaders through the coms.

They each confirmed as Jay walked side by side with her down the path in the park. They settled on a bench, giving them a view of the center and north entrance of the park.

“We’re in place, all clear on the north end,” Jay said into the coms, his eyes surveying his surroundings as he put an arm on the back of the bench.

They sat in the park for a while. Eventually, one of the other agents saw the target pull up. They were able to bring him in without any problems. He was alone when they brought him in, which they all found odd. He was also very silent throughout every interaction, something they took as years of keeping his mouth shut with his boss. When they got him in the interrogation room, Drake sent Jay and Hailey in together to get a read on their capabilities. While Hailey pulled the “we’re here to help you, but only if you talk” method, Jay took a more silent approach. He remained in the seat staring at the man as Hailey paced the floor of the interrogation room trying to convince him to talk. After 20 minutes of silence, Hailey sat down next to Jay, looking down at the table, her arms crossed as the man kept a cold stare at her.

“Tell me Berlina, why’d Sarkova send you into that park alone this morning?” Jay finally asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands together on the table. The man said nothing, shifting his stare from Hailey to Jay.

“I mean, you’re just his driver after all. Anybody can drive a car, you’re pretty replaceable. But still, you’d think years of working for the man would earn you something, right? Some sort of protection,” Still the man remained silent. Jay shrugged before continuing on. “I don’t know. He’s probably already got you replaced anyway. We found out some pretty interesting things about you from Interpol. A couple of outstanding warrants in Latvia… even a few in Estonia. You get around, don’t you? Anyway, your plane leaves this afternoon. Hopefully that gives you enough time to get out of here before Sarkova has a chance to tie up loose ends,” Jay finished, rising in his chair to exit the room. Hailey followed, and just as they were about to exit, the man called them back.

He ended up giving them the location of a brownstone in a wealthier neighborhood. They set out with the FBI tactical team, expecting heavy arms and numerous bodyguards according to what Berlina gave them. They had planned to infiltrate late in the night to provide themselves with an extra element of surprise. This was the one part of the job that Jay felt sure about. As he geared up, he felt pumped up for the first time that day. Knowing that his interrogation gave them the location added a little motivation as well. Still partnered with Daisy, she and Jay followed after the two tact team guys upon breaching the front door. Walker and Hailey were behind them, making their way to the other side of the house upon entry. One of the tact team guys came in contact with an offender first, convincing him to stand down and taking his weapon before cuffing him. Jay and Daisy continued into the house, sweeping each room one by one. They came into contact with a second offender, and they were able to convince him to stand down as well. Next thing they knew, there was a ruckus on the other side of the house, so they swiftly picked up their pace, making their way in that direction. There was a gunshot and panic overcame Jay as he realized it was in the part of the house Hailey was clearing.

“Hailey!” He called out. No response. He called her name once more before entering a large room. He caught sight of her blonde hair on the ground. His heart dropped, but she turned over as he got closer, clutching at her jaw. Walker was behind her, standing over Sarkova who was face down on the ground.

“Hailey! What the hell happened, are you okay?” Jay questioned, making his way over to her and instinctively grabbing at her chin to get a better look at the red mark on her jaw.

“Guy was hiding behind the door when I walked in. He tried to grab at my gun and forced me to fire a round into the wall. He also got me nice in the jaw before I could react,” she told him, stretching her jaw. Jay offered her a hand and she grabbed it to come to a standing position.

“She took the hell out of him though. Girl’s a badass,” Walker said, bringing Sarkova to his feet and guiding him to a tact guy by the door.

“Yeah, where the hell were you? Huh?” Jay asked, a slight snarky tone in his voice.

“Hey man, I was right behind her. I had her back,” Walker said back, closing the distance between him and Jay. Jay didn’t take well to people getting in his face. Hailey noticed this and stood between them, lightly pushing them apart.

“Woah, okay boys. We’re all good here,” she said, her eyes looking between the two of them.

Jay backed off, looking down at her with a worried look.

“Are you okay?” he asked her quietly, dropping his voice to a sincere tone.

“I’m good,” she nodded, patting him slightly on the chest.

“I should’ve had your back,” he said, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Jay, I’m fine. Relax, would you?” she told him, a slight frustration in her voice.

Jay didn’t like that she had gotten hurt and he wasn’t there to protect her. It wasn’t that she was hurt badly, but he didn’t like the idea of someone else, basically a stranger, being the one to watch her back in such a high risk situation. His opinion of Walker wasn’t all that great after his comment that morning, and it certainly wasn’t improving now that she had gotten hurt under his watch. One thing he was sure of was that he was glad their separation was only a temporary thing.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years

Text

Powers Au - Nature

TW - fighting, blood, past abuse, betrayal

Dream hides under the blankets, his eyes screwed shut. The sound of his father screaming in pain echoes through his head. He might only be nine, but he knows that his father is a bad man. He knows that the man hurts people, thinks that he’s a god. He knows that his father uses him to force people to stay in his territory. Dream knows, prime, Dream knows that this was a long time coming.

But the scream echoes in his head, and in his heart the boy knows his father is dead. He mourns the man, prime only knows that he mourns, but he doesn’t leave the safety of the blankets. Heroes could be here - Dream helped the monster who fashioned himself Dream’s ‘father’ - and they’ll kill him. His father hurt people, but he never lied. Lying is worse than killing, in his father’s eyes.

“Hey,” A soft voice says, suddenly in the room with Dream. “My name’s Puffy, but my heroes name is Captain. Are you injured?”

Dream shakes his head, trembling under the blankets. She’s going to kill him, she’s going to cut him up and eat him, she’s going to-

He sticks his head out from under the blankets, looking at her. She has dark, chocolate brown eyes and fuzzy brown hair that looks like - is it wool? It looks so soft, and there’s a strip of it thats rainbow. She isn’t wearing a mask, he can see it discarded on the floor besides his bed, with a hairtie next to it, and her hood is down. She is covered in blood, and red footprints trail out of the room towards her.

“Hey buddy,” she says. “What’s your name?”

“Dream.” He mumbles, fear wracking his small frame again. The heroine - Puffy - smiles at him brightly.

“That’s a lovely name.” She says, and she reaches her hand out to him. “Why don’t you come with me, we’ll take you to a hospital to make sure you don’t have any injuries.”

Dream frowns, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He can feel the blood on his back drying, feel the way his foot throbs in pain every time a muscle twitches. He knows its broken. He knows his injured. But this woman could hurt him, could lie to him, and-

“You can keep your blanket, if you want.” She offers, the kindness never wavering.

“My foot hurts.” He mumbles pathetically, tears springing in his eyes.

“Then I guess i have to carry you.” She spreads her arms, and Dream pathetically throws himself into her embrace.

Puffy picks him up, holding him as though he’s worth something, as though he’s not made everything that she is supposed to defeat. As though his father hadn’t forced him to kill so many people. As though he’s made of gold, and his blood flows with rubies and gemstones.

Dream falls asleep in her careful hold, letting the soft wool of her hair become a pillow.

---

“When will my nephew return from the war.” Schlatt complains as Puffy stacks her dishwasher, rolling her eyes. “It’s been 48 years!”

“School isn’t a war, Schlatt.” Puffy says simply, carefully placing the cutlery into the little bucket made for them. “And if my memory serves me right, you’re still in university.”

“Poli-sci is different to fifth grade, Puffy. Ten year olds are evil.”

“Mum! I’m home!” Dream calls, and Puffy can hear a crash as he throws his bag into the wall.

“Speak of the devil.” Schlatt mumbles under his breath, a fond smile on his face.

“How was school?” Puffy yells back at him.

“I made a new friend! His name is George!” Dream says, walking into the kitchen. “Uncle Schlatt!”

“Come give your favourite uncle a hug, kid.” Schlatt smirks.

“Oh, is Uncle Sam over?” Dream says, and Schlatt gasps in mock horror.

“Oh you’ve wounded me!” Schlatt says, dramatically falling to the ground. “The horror! The pain! How could you?”

“And you say that Wilbur hasn’t rubbed off on you.” Puffy laughs, putting the last plates into the dish washer.

“Hey, he hasn’t.” Schlatt says from where he lies, Dream standing triumphantly over his ‘dead body’. “Just cause that theatre nerd is my friend, doesn’t mean that he’s rubbed off on me.”

“Sure thing.” Puffy laughs, turning the dish washer on. “C’mon now, lets see what homework you have so that you and Uncle Schlatt can hang out for longer.”

---

“Dream.” The teen pauses, halfway out of the window. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Dream’s voice cracks, and he blushes slightly.

“So, if I came into your room, you wouldn’t be halfway out of your window, in vigilante gear?” Puffy’s voice is light, but he can tell that she’s worried.

“Nope!” Dream smiles brightly. His vigilante gear is kept at George’s house since, well, the other teens parent’s don’t care about what George, Sapnap and Dream do as long as they aren’t too injured.

Puffy sticks her head in, shaking her head when she see’s Dream, still halfway out of the window. She gestures for him to go to bed, sighing.

“You know, when I let your uncle buy us this house I thought that you’d like the yard, not the easy to escape windows.” She smiles, though he can see the nervousness in her eyes.

“You alright, Mum?”

“There was these two kids, when I was out on patrol.” Puffy says, patting the bed besides her. “I’m worried for them.”

“Why?” Dream asks, slowly pulling himself from the window. “They get mugged or something?”

“They were following the syndicate.” Puffy leans back on the wall, and Dream lets her hug him. “They can’t be older than you, as well. I’m just worried.”

“You weren’t older than me when you adopted me.” Dream points out.

“I was seventeen. You’re fourteen.”

“Three years.”

“Still makes a difference.” Puffy ruffles his hair. “Now, who were you sneaking out to see. A girl?”

“Primse, Mum! No! I wasn’t.”

---

Puffy watches from another room as Dream and Foolish meet. Foolish flinches away from Dream, who sits down at a distance. Puffy makes herself busy as she looks around the kitchen. Eret may have been adopted by Callahan, but Foolish is her newest son, and she forgot to even warn Dream, the teen’s going to hate this.

“Did Mum pick you up from a villains base as well?” Dream asks after a moment, getting a startled laugh from Foolish.

“Yeah?” The other teen affirms after a moment. “Does she do that a lot?”

“Well, she did it with me. I’m starting to sense a pattern.” Dream jokes, and Puffy relaxes, pulling out some spaghetti. Easy dinner, for tonight, it sounds like.

A few quiet whispers are exchanged by the pair, and then raucous laughter erupts from the lounge room. Yeah, this is home.

---

Dream leans against a tree, pressing bandages into his side. Sapnap stands besides him, nervously looking around to see if any villains or heroes show up. No one does, not even George, who’s probably still sleeping.

“What did they do to Dad?” Sapnap mumbles weakly after a moment. “Why was he all-”

“Infected?” Dream offers after Sapnap trails off, his eyes a thousand yards away. “He looks like the egg got him.”

“But isn’t Pa enough? Why’d he have to take Dad as well?” Tears pour down Sapnaps face, and Dream winces. “I want my family back.”

“I know.” Dream says, sinking to the ground. “We’ll fix them. We’ll save them. The heroes-”

“The heroes are killing them! They kill anyone who gets possessed!” Sapnap protests. “They’ll kill them.”

“Then I guess we need to oppose the heroes.” Dream says, looking over at the small, dilapidated cottage in the forest. Dream, Sapnap and George had been using it to research how the egg works, and if you can save someone from it’s possession.

“Yeah.” Sapnap help’s Dream up, carrying the seventeen year old to the cottage. “I suppose we have to.”

“The ends will justify the means.” Dream promises. “We’ll be forgiven. Promise.”

---

“Dream?” Puffy can hear Foolish on the phone, trying to call his brother. “Please pick up. We’re not mad at you. Please just come home.”

Puffy can hear Foolish sigh as the phone hangs up, and Schlatt rubs her back supportively. Eret gives Foolish a hug, and Sam contacts the SMP, trying to see if there’s been any sightings of the three missing teens.

“You’ve reached Dream Taken, if you’re my Mum I’m sorry for being late home, I’ll be home soon, if you aren’t my Mum leave a message. Call you back soon!” The automated response hasn’t changed, but Puffy sobs quietly as she hears her sons voice.

“Please, Dream. Come home.” She begs, tears rolling down her face. “Or at least call me back.”

---

People scream in the streets below, Sapnap and Dream razing the city to the ground. The red vines that crept up the buildings wither and decay under the fire, and the pair of them laugh. They’re saving the city, one contained fire at a time.

Those people were probably possessed anyways. They would have died eventually, the so called “heroes” have no morals. Not like Dream and Sapnap and George. At least these three are trying to cure them.

“Stop!” Dread fill’s Dream and Sapnap’s chests as they hear Puffy yell after them. “You are under arrest for arson and-”

“We won’t be going with you.” Dream says, spinning around. He stands protectively in front of Sapnap. “Sorry, Mum, but we’re busy trying to save the cuty.”

“Dream.” He hears Puff gasp, her hands over her mouth. “You’re alive.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He growls, taking out a sword.

“Miss Puffy, please. You could join us.” Sapnap offers, his hand on Dream’s arm, calming the other teen. “We’re trying to cure the egg!”

Dream and Puffy both wince, hearing the smile on Sapnap’s voice. That naive, hopeful, pathetic smile that screams ‘we’re doing the right thing’.

“Sap,” Puffy begins, nervously, “Burning the buildings and killing people won’t save anyone.”

“The ends justify the means.” Dream snap, before Sapnap can change his mind. “Are you with us, or are you going to kill us.”

It’s not a question.

“I can’t agree with this.” Puffy says. “But I could never hurt you.”

“You killed my father.” Dream snaps, glaring at the woman he once called mother. “You’ve already broken me beyond repair.”

---

Puffy sits in the hospital bed, staring out of the window. She wasn’t able to fight them, how could she? She raised Dream since he was nine, and she was ‘aunt Puffy’ to Sapnap since he was a baby. How could she hurt these kids she swore to protect, to keep safe?

Foolish sleeps on the chair besides her bed, Eret sleeping on the floor besides him. The pair refused to leave after visiting hours, and Puffy said that it was alright for them to spend the night. How could she send out her son, and the child she considers family?

She stares out the window, watching the sky turn from a dark indigo to a bright orange. Tears drip down her face as phantom fire races up her arms, and she remembers. She doesn’t know why she remembers this poem, this miserable sad poem that she hadn’t thought of since she dropped out of highschool to persue full time heroism.

The notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.

If that didn’t describe her family, she doesn’t know what does.

#powers au #captain puffy #dream #foolishgamers #jschlatt #sapnap #eret #awesamdude #my writing

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crazyfreckledginger · 4 years

Text

Batboys x Batsis!Reader - “Out Of The Dark” [Part 1]

Waiting desperately to be saved from a kidnapping, you end up being brainwashed to be used against your own brothers.

Requested by @flashdash626: “Hi! I’m not sure if your taking requests, so if your not then you can choose to ignore this. Anyways! I was hoping you could do a Batsis were the sister is kidnapped by a random villain, and once the boys find her its to late and she was brainwashed and was now under control of the random villain. Once they like knock her out they bring her to the cave and try to bring her memories back. After a little bit of them talking to her her mind snaps and shes back to normal and she gets all emotional”

A/N: I know how this looks, I was really inspired since I was stuck on another fic and ended up writing three parts to this I’m sorry T-T

Warning: angst, violence, swearing

Eyes fluttered closed as the sound of rails lulled her to sleep. University had been so tiring this week, having to finish a whole project by the end of the week, in which the guidelines had been given on Monday. A lot of preparation and running around in order to polish a well researched and thorough end result.

The lack of sleep, tiring long hours and accumulated stress had finally left her body as soon as she handed in the work two hours before the deadline was scheduled. To say that fatigue had taken it’s toll on her was an understatement.

For a Friday late afternoon, the train was quite empty heading towards Gotham, but then again, no one wants to go there willingly. Her eyes fluttered closed, mind numbing, it was still two stops into the city, each of which are more or less an hour long, she had time, even if it’s only a thirty minute- one hour nap at most. Too much sleep and it was disrupt -- or complicate her-return-to-normal-sleep schedule.

~ I should be due at the mansion in just over two hours ~

A quick message wouldn’t hurt if there still need to be preparations.

~ Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? ~ DG

That was quick. Smiling, (Y/N) texted her older brother back.

~ It’s okay, you're still busy, and I’ll be back before you’ve finished your work! ~

~ But we missed you! ~ DG

~ It’s been two weeks! Besides it’s the vacation, I’ll be home for a month or so. ~

~ Fine :( ~ DG

With a chuckle, she slipped her phone back in her inside pocket. A grown ass baby.

Finally, she settled back into her seat, paying no mind to the occasional vibration of the carriage window to her head, inescapably submitting to sleep.

When she finally woke up, it was at the end of the line, the carriages were empty, doors wide open, only the occasional person walking or sitting along the platform.

Shit, the woman mentally cursed, grasping her things, and which, luckly, everything was still with her. Rushing out of the train, she scanned the screens: last train, departing in 2 hours and 30 minutes, Platform 8. The words glided along the end of the screen, in bright red dots. A disappointed sigh escaped her. At least it wasn’t late -- and dark. Well, the sun was setting.

The last stop was at the outskirts of Gotham, so she was thankful that she didn’t have to cause too much trouble getting back. Despite her nap, she was still tired -- just less so, and she would really enjoy getting into a comfy bed in the company of her brothers, father and butler.

A slightly irresponsible idea occurred to her. She could get home reaaaaally quickly if she wore her vigilante suit. The woman would be able to call her self-driving motorcycle and hurry to the Mansion in a record time. It was in her bag, and it’s not like it would hurt anyone.

As long as she was careful when changing, this wasn’t going to threaten the reveal of her identity.

With a smile, and making sure she held tightly onto the small bag she carried back with her, she briskly walked out of the train station, to an empty, dirty public bathroom.

Gross but will have to do.

After having scanned the toilet for any lewd hidden cameras, she hastily slipped into her costume, placing her civilian clothes back in her bag and creeping out onto the nearest rooftop. Activating her tracking device and then the automated call, she sat down on the ledge, sighing in relief as she got the notification that her motorcycle just headed out.

Now it was only a question of patience. Since nothing was happening, she lay down fully on the ledge, bag on the rooftop and arms under her head for more comfort.

Her eyes closed, this time, not falling asleep, but listening to the nearly inheart environment surrounding her.

That was until her phone vibrated. Sitting up, she reached for it, opening the message.

~ Where are you? I’m about to head home, but word is you’re not there yet. ~ DG

~ Yes, I missed the stop, called the Batcave, my ride should be here soon, sorry! ~

They must have been worried.

Before she could answer, she heard quick footsteps trailing behind her. Her head snapped back but before she could distinguish anyone, the silhouette landed a hard blow to her head, which probably was a metal pole.

“Fuck.” she cursed in pain, her unlocked phone dropping off the ledge, sliding down the roof and landing in the gutter, “who are you!?” (Y/N) yelled standing up clumsily as the side of her head ached.

“Lights out.” the unknown person grunted, lifting the pole high after dodging an attempted punch, slamming it to the back of her head. Her whole body smashed to the ground with violent force -- but it’s not something she felt, as she fell into unconsciousness.

****

“Where is she?” Bruce grumbled as Dick entered the Manor, an hour and a half later than planned, and after some exhausting, useless paperwork.

“What’s happening?” he frowned, seeing Robin hurry down the stairs of the Batcave.

“(Y/N) was supposed to be due, the tracker on her motorcycle hasn’t moved and she isn’t answering her phone.” Jason geared up.

“I’m coming with you,” Dick scurried to the room with his suit, slipping into it.

“We’ll be on comms if anything comes up.” Tim nodded.

It felt like a very long ride towards the location that was given to them, even though they got there very quickly.

As Nightwing’s motorcycle stopped close to their destination, he hopped off, watching the tracker from the screen on his arm, zooming in to be able to pinpoint exactly where her last place was.

Jason jumped onto the nearest rooftop, scouting the area in case it was a trap of sorts. He frowned, seeing that the coast was clear and signalling his brother his ‘go’ card.

It must have been a good half an hour before they even found a clue -- excluding her untouched motorcycle.

And it happen to make Red Hood jump out of his skin. Good thing Nightwing was still scouting the ground otherwise he would have been seriously embarrassed.

The gutter buzzed, it was utterly unnerving. Cautiously, he approached the roaring object, staring down at it as he spotted a phone. It was unlocked and vibrating widely.

Crouching down, he grasped and inspected it.

(Y/N)’s definitely. And he didn’t like where this was going. It was Damian this time, calling her -- in addition to like 78 missed calls and numerous texts.

“Found her phone, she’s definitely gotten kidnapped.” The man announced nonchalantly, but his heart was beating fast. Their sister? Kidnapped at an unusually early time of the night? Hours after she got back into Gotham? Someone must have been keeping an eye out and planning.

And given the fact that nothing has come up, it might not be a usual Gotham criminal.

“We might have a problem.” Dick spoke through his comms.

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coralstories · 4 years

Text

You Have a Girlfriend?!

Spencer Reid x ocBianca Bennett

A/N: My last Spencer Reid fic was a little after he first met Bianca. This is set after they’ve been together for a while.

A/N 2: I meant to post the Dia de los Muertos Hobbit fic, but my Halloween weekend was surprisingly busy, so that didn’t happen. Take this one as consolation!

Word count: 2725 (wow, that’s a lot)

“What do we got?”

“The sheriff in San Francisco contacted me about a possible serial killer. Here are the files.”

“Thanks, JJ.”

Agent Aaron Hotchner’s team were gathered in the conference room. JJ, Agent Jareau, had called them in early to brief them on a possible case. They all agreed that it was something they should look into. Then Agent Jareau noticed something.

“Guys, do any of you know where Reid is?” she asked, not having heard his input in the past five minutes.

They all shook their heads.

“Maybe he didn’t get your text,” Morgan offered.

“Call him, but tell him we’re leaving in 30,” Hotch said.

With that, the rest of them dispersed. Morgan held back JJ and Agent Prentiss.

“Listen, why don’t we just go and pick up Reid? JJ, you said he gave you keys, right?”

“Oh, he did?” Agent Prentiss asked.

“Yeah, after we named him godfather,” JJ responded with a smile.

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” JJ considered Morgan’s proposal. “Alright, let’s go.”

They beat traffic and got to Agent Reid’s apartment fairly quickly. He wasn’t answering calls. JJ knocked, but when there was no answer, they all silently agreed to go in. JJ unlocked the door while the others kept a hand on their weapons out of habit. They entered cautiously.

“Reid?” JJ called out.

“He must have left by now,” Prentiss said in a reasonable tone.

“The shower’s on,” Morgan pointed out.

“And is that… a woman singing?” JJ said.

They all moved slowly toward the back of the apartment. They heard the water shutoff, and then a woman walked out, still humming. She had a towel wrapped around herself, tucked under her arms, and her hair was wet. She made her way to the fridge and dug around for a moment. She turned, leaned on the island, and started peeling an orange.

“Did you forget something?” she asked.

All three agents froze in surprise. She wasn’t looking at them, her gaze was on her hands, but there was no one else in the room.

“Um, who are you?” Morgan asked.

“And what are you doing in Reid’s apartment?” Prentiss added.

The woman stopped her movements and lifted her head.

“Well, shit. None of you are Spencer,” she said.

This confused the agents even more.

“Do I look like Dr. Spencer Reid?” Morgan asked sarcastically.

“Well I wouldn’t know, but none of you sound like him.”

There was a pause as they all realized something; she was blind.

“That was a joke, guys,” the woman said. She put a piece of orange in her mouth. “Lighten up.”

“You still haven’t told us who you are,” Prentiss said.

“Spencer hasn’t told you about me?”

“No,” all the agents said at once.

“Of course he hasn’t,” she sighed. “I’m Bianca Bennett.”

She extended her hand, which all of them automatically stepped forward to shake.

“Spencer calling,” an automated voice said.

The woman, Bianca, reached across the counter to grab the phone and accepted the call on speaker.

“Hey, Spencer,” Bianca answered. “What did you forget?”

“Hey, Bee,” Spencer said.

His coworkers lifted their eyebrows.

“I forgot my jacket, do you think you’ll have time to drop it off?” Spencer continued.

“You’re lucky I have the morning off,” Bianca said with a smile.

“I don’t know about lucky, but it was definitely—“

“And—,” Bianca interrupted loudly— “you’re lucky some of your coworkers are here. I’ll give it to them and they’ll meet you, yeah?”

“What? Who’s there? It’s JJ, isn’t it?”

“Her and Prentiss and Morgan. I think. And I think they were about ready to shoot me.”

Spencer sighed. “I’m really sorry about that, all of you. I’m guessing I’m on speaker, right?”

“You have inferred correctly, sir,” Bianca said.

“Okay, I promise I’ll explain later, guys. For now, can you just grab my jacket and I’ll meet you at the office, please?”

“Actually, we were just swinging by to pick you up. We got called in early on a case,” Prentiss explained.

“Alright, then I’ll meet you on the plane and get briefed there. I’ve got to go, guys, I’m on the subway, I’m—“

The connection was lost. Bianca turned off the phone and turned back to the agents.

“Reception is spotty on the subway. Let me get his jacket,” Bianca said.

She walked out of the room, and the agents immediately started murmuring to each other.

“Since when does Reid have a girlfriend?”

“And she is blind, right?”

“She’s pretty.”

“I wonder if she’s a genius like him.”

Bianca walked into the living room and held out Reid’s jacket.

“We’ve been dating for about a year now,” she said, answering the questions they asked each other. “Yes, I really am blind. Thank you, and no, I am definitely not a genius.”

All the agents averted their eyes and flushed in embarrassment. Prentiss took the jacket with an apologetic smile.

“Thin walls,” Bianca said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Anyways, you should go. Don’t want to miss your plane. You’ve got to catch some killers, right?”

“Right,” Prentiss said. “Well, um…“

“It was nice meeting you,” JJ said.

“Yeah, you too.” Bianca shook their hands again.

They left and attacked Reid with incessant questions once they were all on the plane. Reid glanced at Hotch and Rossi fearfully. He shushed them and mouthed, ‘Later'. Hotch and Rossi noticed. They only exchanged exasperated glances and ignored the other agents.

The case went by fairly quickly and easily; the team considered themselves lucky. The night before they returned to Quantico, they cornered Reid in his hotel room.

“Okay, spill,” JJ demanded. “How did you even meet her? She doesn’t work with us.”

“That’s because she’s not an FBI agent at all,” Reid said. “She’s a high school teacher.”

“You’re dating a schoolteacher?” Morgan said incredulously.

“Yes. I have enjoyed our privacy so far, so if you guys could—“

“It’s okay, Reid, it’s not like I can judge,” JJ said. “I kept my relationship with Will a secret for about a year, right?”

The other three exchanged telling looks.

“JJ, we all knew,” Reid said.

“What?”

“No, hold on, I’m not gonna let him turn this around,” Morgan said, cutting JJ off from saying anything further.

“And I’m not going to let you all interrogate me or her about our private, personal life,” Reid countered.

“We just want to know who she is,” Prentiss said.

“And why you’ve been hiding her from us,” Morgan said.

“Well, I told you. Her name is Bianca Bennett and she’s a school teacher. And I haven’t been hiding her from you, you all just assumed I wasn't dating anyone.”

No one said anything for a moment after that. They couldn’t deny it. The possibility never entered their minds that Spencer Reid may be seeing someone.

“Where did you guys meet?” JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Reid gave her a warning look, perhaps trying to determine her intentions.

“She came up to me in the park to ask for advice about one of her students. She had heard me give a lecture before and knew my background,” Reid explained.

“What do you mean, she wanted help with one of her students? Isn’t it her job to teach kids?”

“Yeah, but this student was different.”

“Was that the day you left early?” Prentiss asked.

Reid nodded. “Yup. It still took about seven meetings before she asked me out, though.”

“She asked you out? Oh come on, Reid,” Morgan said.

“It took you guys that long?”

“Well, she was waiting for me to ask her out, but I was completely oblivious. Even her student, the one I was mentoring, and his aunt picked up on it. I liked her, obviously, but I guess I just never thought she would agree to a date. She’s just amazing.”

“Aw. I’m happy for you, Spence,” JJ said, patting the younger man on the back.

“Yeah, it’s about time, man.”

“She’s okay with you being gone for long periods of time like this?” Prentiss asked.

Reid glanced at each of them before answering.

“She would prefer I wasn’t, obviously, but she knows this job is important to me. Besides, it’s not like we have a kid or anything.”

They were all quiet as they thought about their coworker, Hotch. Finally, Prentiss, Morgan, and JJ stood.

“We should get going. We have to be up early for our flight tomorrow,” Prentiss said.

“Yeah, we’ll let you get some sleep,” Morgan said.

“Ask Bianca if it would be okay to ask her to lunch,” JJ said. “I want to get to know her since she’s your girlfriend and all.”

“Okay, I’ll text her in a bit. Goodnight, guys.”

The next morning, they left early for their six-hour flight and got back to Quantico around noon. They went straight to the office to start on reports. Reid was telling his team members about the history of San Francisco as they rode the elevator.

“You know, what’s interesting is that San Francisco was called the “city of sin” long before Las Vegas. The city was rife with prostitution and opium dens as an outlet for the gold rushers who flocked to the city at the time. At first, there wasn’t much law and order to the city and it was run by vigilante groups who would hang anyone who committed a crime.”

Prentiss and Morgan exchanged a glance, but they didn’t try to cut him off yet.

“Then, when they started an actual police force, even those policemen were corrupt and accepted bribes from the madams and drug dealers to turn the other cheek. That all changed after the 1906 earthquake and fire, though. After that, the city’s inhabitants become of a reform-minded mood and when they were rebuilding, they--”

The elevator arrived at their floor, and they stepped out quickly.

“--decided that they would build more respectable businesses, especially on Morton Street, where most of the--”

“Reid, so, how long have you and Bianca been living together?” Prentiss asked.

“Not long. We actually go between her place and mine. We’re usually at her apartment on the weekends.”

Reid’s phone rang.

“Hello?” Reid answered. “What? Are you okay?”

The note of fear in his voice caught the others’ attention.

“Okay. I’m on my way, and I’m going to send some police officers as well, okay? I’ll see you soon.” He hung up and started gathering his things while he dialed another number.

“What’s going on?” Prentiss asked.

“Someone broke into Bianca’s apartment and attacked her,” Reid explained.

“Oh my god,” Prentiss said. “I’ll tell Hotch what’s going on.”

“I’ll drive you,” Morgan said.

“Hey Garcia,” Reid said into the phone. “I need you to dispatch the closest patrol car to Bianca’s apartment. … Everything’s fine for now, but I need you to hurry, okay?… There was a break-in, I’ve got to go.”

He hung up. Morgan followed him with the keys to one of the SUVs. They ran the siren. Morgan followed Reid’s directions and got to Bianca’s apartment in record time. When they got out they saw that there was a police car on the sidewalk. Reid took the stairs two at a time, and Morgan followed close behind. As they neared Reid’s door, they heard Bianca’s voice.

“I’m okay, please stop touching me,” she said.

Reid and Morgan burst into the room to find it a mess. Items were strewn along the floor, the refrigerator was open, a dish was shattered, the coffee table was on its side, and the TV was on the floor near the door. There was one police officer kneeling on a man and putting handcuffs on him. The officer’s partner was attempting to comfort Bianca. He had his hands on her shoulders, ignoring her attempts to shake him off and her stiff posture. Reid barreled through the room toward them, while Morgan kept close to the arresting officer in case he needed help.

“Bianca, are you alright?” Reid asked. “Hands off my girlfriend, she doesn’t like strangers touching her,” he snapped at the police officer.

The man put his hands up in surrender, eyes wide. Reid took Bianca’s hand and led her to the couch, making her sit.

“I’m fine, Spencer. He just surprised me is all,” Bianca said.

The officers stood up with the offender.

“Did she tell you what happened?” Morgan asked them.

“Just that he was here when she came in, and almost knocked her out,” one of them said. “Your boy’s got a good girl there. When we came in she was standing over this loser with her stick pointed at his throat.”

“It’s a cane,” Reid corrected at the same time the would-be thief started shouting.

“She threatened me!” the offender whined. “She said if I moved—“

“Shut the hell up, man,” Morgan said. “It was self-defense. I’d have kicked your ass.”

The officers took him away. Morgan went over to where Reid and Bianca were sitting on the couch. He noticed how Bianca seemed to be melting into Reid.

“Bianca, I think you should go to the hospital,” Morgan said gently.

“What? Why?” Reid asked.

He took Bianca’s face in his hands and examined her. She winced. Her bottom lip trembled and she kept looking up; it looked like she was trying not to cry.

“You said he tried to knock you out?” Morgan prompted.

“Yeah, he tried to hit me with the vase.”

Reid pushed her hair back to reveal a cut on her ear and neck.

“Bianca!” Reid exclaimed.

Bianca touched one hand to her ear. When she pulled it away, her fingertips were sticky with blood.

“I thought it was the water,” Bianca murmured. "From the vase."

Morgan leaned down to examine her. “It doesn’t look that deep,” he said. “But we should still get you checked out. Want me to drive?”

“O-okay,” Bianca said.

“Thank you,” Reid said.

Reid helped Bianca up and to the door, where Morgan offered to carry her down the stairs.

“Thanks, but I can walk,” Bianca replied stubbornly.

She managed it by leaning heavily on the railing and keeping one hand intertwined with Spencer’s. The ride to the hospital was silent, broken only by Morgan and Reid’s cell phones vibrating. Morgan glanced down and saw that it was a group text from Penelope, telling them all that Hotch wants them to meet in the BAU conference room. Morgan looked in the rearview mirror and saw Reid frowning down at his phone, presumably at the same text.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” Bianca asked.

“What? Nothing,” Reid said.

Bianca’s lips curved up into a smirk. “Now I really know there’s something up.”

Morgan’s eyebrows rose at her keen perception. Bianca, who had been leaning on Reid’s shoulder, suddenly sat up straighter.

“If you need to go back to work, it’s okay,” Bianca said softly.

Reid met Morgan’s eyes in the mirror, the problem clear in his eyes. Reid shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I can’t leave you.”

“But… I have friends I can call. If it’s important--”

Reid’s phone buzzed again. It lit up to reveal a text from Hotch: he was aware of the situation and Reid did not have to come in until it was resolved. Reid sighed in relief and put his arm around Bianca, nudging her so that her head was on his shoulder again.

“Nothing’s more important than you,” he said in her ear.

It was too quiet for Morgan to hear, but the small, shy smile that graced Bianca’s features was enough to let him know of his friend’s plans.

“We just came back from a case, so we probably don’t have to leave again,” Morgan said. “Hotch probably just wants us to go over reports. I can cover for you, man.”

Reid smiled slightly and gave a tight nod. “Thanks.”

“Aaron Hotchner?” Bianca said. She smiled up at Reid. “I want to meet the rest of your team now.”

“Well, maybe we can arrange that for another day,” Reid said.

“Oh, really? I was thinking we could invite them all to the emergency room,” Bianca deadpanned.

It took both men a moment to realize that she was being sarcastic. Reid laughed and buried his face in her hair, and began whispering something else to her. Morgan chuckled and shook his head. He was beginning to like Reid’s girlfriend.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #bianca bennett

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

Coffee, Crushes and Complications Part 4

This was prompted by an awesome anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 [Prequel] [Part1] [Part2] [Part3]

Hey how is my favourite toaster doing?< >The interview already finished? Yeah, didn’t go as planned but it might be useful still.< >Got thrown out? Yes, asshole slipped up and when asked about it refused to answer any further questions.< But I can work with that, use it against him.< How’s work?< >Not a good day for both of us. >Tina’s in trouble. What? How?< >Her brother had connections to the Red Ice trade. She didn’t see him for years.< >I know. He tried to manipulate people into letting him go saying his sister was a cop too but in a way that raised suspicion. >I’m sure everything will be fine, but Tina can’t prove her innocence. At least suspension until everything is settled is possible. That’s real shitty. Should I come over? You didn’t have your break yet, did you?<

Gavin left it at that and entered a new address for the automated taxi. He knew the android always was on time, punctuality was something important to him. It could be annoying, but most of the time it was nice to know he was reliable. Gavin sat back and watched the city fly by. It was hard to acknowledge it had only been a few months of them dating. It definitely felt longer. It was both as if they had spent a lifetime together already and had met just yesterday. But Gavin liked it that way. It was comfortable to know the feelings were still there even when the thrill of discovering something new in his boyfriend had subsided. Once Gavin had been able to trust the android, all the difficulties of their beginning had been forgotten. As promised, he didn’t try to think ahead too much, but he wouldn’t mind this to last.

The taxi stopped in front of the fifth precinct and Gavin stepped out onto the pavement. It still felt weird seeing it like this. This building had been his second home for more than half of his life and now it was just another concrete block in Detroit. Since being thrown out he hadn’t actually set a foot into it, only driven the RK900 to and from work sometimes. >No, I haven’t yet, you can come inside. I told the reception you were coming. Well, now he had to. He opened the door and entered the lobby. It was interesting how little had changed. The walls had been repainted, otherwise it looked just like his memory of the place. ‘Hello Mr. Reed!’ ‘Hey, Steph. Long time no see.’ The ST300 smiled at him as she always had, only that now it only deepened the feeling of being out of place. ‘Richard told me you would visit. Go on, head in. I don’t think anyone would mind.’ ‘Thanks.’ He was already on his way to the security gates as she called after him: ‘Good to see you are well!’

He didn’t let his thoughts linger on that comment. He was sure it was just a sentence said to be polite. Tina and Rich were the only people knowing of his breakdown, they wouldn’t have told anyone. The precinct was busy as it had always been. Phones ringing and the low mumble of conversations created a pleasant background noise of hard work. He didn’t have to look for long until his eyes found his old desk, now Detective Richard’s as the plate announced. ‘Hey, Nines, I’m here.’ He took the freedom to sit on the edge of his desk. The android looked up and smiled, retracting his hand, still white from the interface, from a small platform. ‘It’s good to see you.’ The hand found its way over to Gavin’s knee and rested there. Gavin laid his own on top and squeezed it. ‘You look tired, darling.’ ‘I am’, he sighed.

But before the RK900 could continue, someone else interrupted them. ‘Wait. “Nines”? “Darling”? What’s going on here.’ ‘Oh, hey Connor.’ ‘What are you doing here?’, the other RK asked. ‘I thought you’d been fired.’ ‘Oh, I’ve been’, Gavin shrugged. ‘I’m just visiting Richard during his break, don’t worry. And Nines is my nickname for him.’ ‘Nickname?‘ ‘You didn’t tell him?’, Gavin wondered and the android just groaned: ‘Didn’t think it would concern him. Connor, Gavin works as an investigative journalist now. We met after we were at the café with Hank, remember?’ ‘Oh. Okay. Hope he treats you good.’

Gavin huffed. ‘That I hope, too. How’s life for you? You made it Lieutenant, right? Congrats to that.’ Connor just stared at him disbelievingly. ‘So I’m not the stupid tin-can anymore?’ ‘Oh, no you still are. But I’m not the asshole human that cares anymore.’ Connor lifted his brows but didn’t get to answer as the trio was already gathering attention: People all around where whispering. Gavin grimaced at the attention. ‘Hey, Nines, do you mind spending your break outside? I could treat you to a coffee?’ ‘Normally I’d gladly take the offer, but I think we are too late for that.’ He subtly pointed into the direction of Fowler’s office where the Captain was already heading their way. ‘Oh, hell no…’

‘Gavin!’ Fowler had stopped in front of him, arms outstretched with a grin as if seeing him had made him the happiest he had been in years. ‘Fowler’, Gavin nodded, trying to keep his voice as neutral and level as possible. ‘Hey, is that how you greet an old friend?’ ‘Friend?’, Gavin asked. ‘What happened to me being the worst humanity has to offer?’ ‘What? I never said that.’ Gavin shrugged, inspecting his nails. ‘Maybe not, but I know to read between the lines.’ ‘Well anyways, it’s good to see you! I watch your show every time it’s on TV. You really have talent!’ ‘Thanks’, Gavin commented, side-eying Nines to make it stop. ‘You are underappreciated where you work right now, so I thought you might like what I am offering you: You can come back! You could be a detective again, where your abilities are needed. How about that, hm?’

Gavin looked at him wide-eyed, Nines turned around and Connor took a step back. Fowler was oblivious to the change in atmosphere though and laughed, clapping Gavin on the shoulder. ‘I knew you would like it!’ Gavin stood up. He wasn’t the tallest man, he would never be able to tower over someone like the Captain, but his stance alone made the man reconsider. ‘Like it? Are you phcking kidding me?’ Gavin couldn’t believe what he had heard, but the fury inside him was quick to change that. ‘You dare to offer me a job? After throwing me out like a phcking dog? I poured my everything into this job until there wasn’t much left inside me and then you fired me from one day to the next! You don’t want to know what that did to me. And it doesn’t have to plaque you, in the end it was the best to ever happen to me. But I want to know: do you really mean it? Do you really think you can lure me back in? Do you really think I want to come back?’

Fowler thought about it. ‘Err… Yes?’ Gavin laughed loudly and humourlessly. It bordered on hysterical. ‘Fowler. You goddamn phcking asshole. Who are you throwing under the bus to get me back now that you realised that maybe getting rid your cheating card wasn’t your best idea? Tina?’ The Captain swallowed, Gavin’s trained eyes immediately picking up on the admission. ‘Ah, so you are really trying to boot her out next. I can’t phcking believe it.’ He shook his head. ‘So, a no?’ Gavin smiled mad. ‘Oh, this is a no, alright.’ His smile faltered, as he shouted his next words: ‘I’m never coming back! I’m living a happy life. I have a job that captures my passion, co-workers that like me, I changed my way of living, I have friends and I have the most amazing person at my side. I would never ever come back to work under your lead. Not after what you said to me and not after what I now know you are playing. Because who knows when I might be inconvenient again and land on the street. Who knows when I may have to throw my friends under the bus to keep on your good side. No. I’m out and I’m happy that way. I was just visiting to spend Richard’s break with him, nothing more.’ He took a deep breath before continuing with a more level voice: ‘One thing I can promise you though.’ He smirked, as Fowler had finally understood he lost. ‘If you indeed use the word of some minor criminal, that could make up the whole story anyways, to kick out Tina, the topic of my next show will be police brutality, corruption and harassment in the workplace. I think I have enough first-hand experience to at least fill one evening and I can think of quite a few people willing to be interviewed.’

He threw the Captain a winning smile, before asking without breaking eye contact: ‘Alright Nines, how about that coffee break right now?’ The android grinned, standing up ignoring Fowler completely. ‘Gladly, my love.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Captain Fowler #Connor dbh #RK800 #THAT BURN #God I love badass Gavin #And Nines is just in the background vibing coz that's HIS human there giving his boss shit #Connor is just confusion #Tina's likely on the phone somewhere missing the whole thing #I don't know I'm rambling at this point #Why do I love this AU so much?#AAAAAAAA

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adorablele · 4 years

Text

wrist aches; h.rj

hello!! could you write a renjun fluff where they're like soulmates and they finally meet each other? your works are literally so cute uwu

↬ genre; fluff // soulmate!au

↬ word count; 1.8k+

↬ summary; your wrist aches every time he paints about you

↬ a/n; THIS GIF OF RENJUN EXISTS AND I ONLY KNEW ABOUT IT NOW?? he looks so ~boyfriend material~ ahem, let me collect myself for a second,,,,,right, so this ended up being longer than I planned it to be, but please enjoy painter!renjun

“why are you hurting?” you mumbled, staring at your right wrist.

your frown deepened, the ache in your wrist similar to a growing pain but not quite the same. you closed your eyes, stretching your arm upwards, letting it hang in the air. it was three in the morning, and all you wanted to do was sleep.

nothing changed, even after five minutes.

you sighed, letting your arm drop and turning your body to lay on your back. just as quickly as it came, the pain went away.

renjun gasped awake, afraid that he was going to get hit by that girl’s arm. he stared confusedly at the paintbrush in his hand and was even more confused at the finished painting in front of him. the last time he checked, he fell asleep in his bed.

and oddly enough, he found himself wanting to kiss your ache away.

“that’s amazing, ‘sung!” you told your brother, leaning forward on your balcony railing. you looked at your wrist, the ache starting to bother you.

“it was magical,” jisung dreamily sighed. you knew your brother’s eyes matched the starry night sky.

“I believe that this is the first time I’ve ever heard someone say that getting punched in the face was magical,” you chuckled.

he was silent.

“hello?” you asked, moving your phone to see if he disconnected.

“have you gotten your soulmate mark?”

you swallowed, the throb in your wrist increasing, “it’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“y/n-”

“goodnight, ‘sung.”

you hung up, brushing a hand through your hair. stretching your limbs, you held onto the railings. the various buildings of the city mushed together in front of you.

you looked up, closing your eyes as a shooting star passed by.

“I’m getting impatient,” you sighed, “find me soon.”

renjun blinked his eyes open, another painting finished. he stared at his outstretched hand and brought it back to his lap. why couldn’t he see your face?

he sighed, looking out the window. how was he supposed to find you if he didn’t know what you looked like?

well, at least he knew your name. his phone let out a ding.

‘I know a place you can display your art!’

you ignored the giggles of the girl to your left.

“stop,” she quietly told the guy next to her, continuing to fold clothes.

“but my girlfriend looks so cute,” her boyfriend smiled, snapping more photos.

did they have to do coupley things at 3 in the morning? you chucked more clothes in the washing machine. couldn’t they leave you to wash your clothes by yourself? you aggressively added the laundry detergent, gritting your teeth at the ache in your wrist.

“no! don’t post that,” the girl whined, trying to grab the phone from her boyfriend. he watched in amusement, stretching his arm to make it out of her reach.

you slammed the washing machine door closed. the couple jumped, looking over at you. you continued to ignore them, picking up the empty basket.

“would you take cute photos of me?” you whispered to yourself, eyes trailing to your aching wrist.

renjun tilted his head at the painting of you, your back towards him, yet again.

“most definitely.”

“another night without sleep,” you frowned, adjusting the ice pack on your wrist as the clock glared 3:46 am.

you closed your eyes, laying your head down on the table. you thought about the instagram account jaemin showed you today.

“this is the artist’s account,” he explained, giving you his phone.

“who are you?” you read. the post showed a painting of a girl laying down on her side, her back in view. her right arm was stuck up straight in the air and her hair was a mess on her pillow. purple, iridescent sparkles glowed on her wrist, floating around in the air and trailing to her open window. an empty spot on the bed sat next to her, almost beckoning someone to lay with her; it felt rather cold.

there was something about her that made you feel funny, like you knew the girl.

“that’s one of the paintings we’re hanging tomorrow,” jaemin commented.

“huang renjun,” you sighed, finding it odd how smoothly his name rolled off your tongue, “your gallery is in two days and you haven’t once met with us.”

who knew his heart would race this fast because you said his name? or maybe it was beating fast because you uttered the words:

“‘haven’t once met with us?’” he repeated, eyes wide as he stared at the painting.

“does this girl seem lonely?” you frowned, head tilting at the painting you were hanging.

the girl was at a laundromat, right hand clenched around the washing machine door. her wrist had the same glow of purple as the one in his instagram post. although you couldn’t see her face, her tense shoulders gave off the vibe that she was annoyed by, you presumed, the blurred out couple to her left.

“what makes you say that?” jaemin asked, adjusting another painting.

you pointed at the girl in his painting, “well, she’s alone in all of these.”

jaemin chuckled, “there’s a lot of people alone in pictures.”

you shook your head, “but doesn’t it feel like she’s looking for something- someone?”

the girl in the painting held onto the balcony railing, her right wrist glowing the same purple as the shooting star in the sky. her head was tilted up, back towards the viewer. the purple sparkles were sprinkled lightly around the cluster of buildings in front of her.

“and what about this one,” you told him, pointing to another painting. the girl was sitting at her kitchen counter, an empty seat across from her. her face was tucked away behind her left arm, her other arm stretched across the table with an ice pack resting on her glowing wrist. the spotlight of the lamp above her did nothing but accentuate the fact that her apartment was empty.

“don’t you want to hold her hand?” you mumbled sadly.

after a moment of silence, jaemin spoke.

“well, I don’t think she’s alone.”

“why not?”

“don’t you see all the purple? it’s on her wrist, right?” he shook his own wrist, “that’s where most people have their soulmate marks.”

you stared at him, still confused, “what’s your point?”

he rolled his eyes, “I think the artist is trying to say that even if you feel like you’re alone, you’ve got your other half there with you.”

“is this everything?” you asked, hanging the last canvas.

you looked over to jaemin, confused as to why he looked nervous, “I think we forgot one.”

“well, he can just bring when he comes here, right?”

he frowned, “he’s not coming in today.”

“we’re supposed to open tomorrow! how are we supposed to-” you inhaled sharply, pain suddenly shooting through your wrist, “I’ll just go to his studio.”

“renjun?” you called out, knocking on his door. you clicked your tongue, your phone going to the automated voice message system.

“hello?” you called out again, surprised to see that his front door was open.

you wandered inside, not seeing his shoes by the door, but you did see the painting you forgot.

“is anyone home?” you shouted, picking up the canvas.

there was a girl on it, her knees hugged to her chest. her purple glowing wrist covered her eyes, the tears still dripping down her chin. a crumpled wedding invitation laid next to her on the wrinkled bed sheets, words glimmering under the moonlight. a weird sense of deja vu swirled in your stomach and the ache in your wrist worsened.

“am I going to be alone forever?” you wailed, fridge empty of any ice cream that you could use to eat away your sorrow..

chenle held his fiance in his arms, the both of them smiling as they looked into each other’s eyes. it didn’t help that you just finished watching a kdrama that made you feel single AF.

you dropped the wrinkled piece of paper next to you, hugging your knees tightly to your chest. the ache in your wrist was nothing compared to emptiness in your heart.

“just got myself until then, I guess.”

you placed down the painting and shook away the memory. “I can give you a ride to the museum,” you announced, exploring further into the apartment. sketches of a girl littered his apartment, none of them revealing what her face looked like.

“renjun?” you asked, slowly pushing open the ajar door, the ache in your wrist dulling away.

he was there, facing away from you. he sat in front of a canvas.

“it’s you.”

your furrowed brows soon rose in shock when he turned around, revealing a painting of you. you stood in the open doorway, face caught in surprise.

“you’re way more beautiful in person.”

“that’s...that’s my face,” you dumbly replied.

renjun chuckled, “I believe it is.”

your face felt hot and you wished that he didn’t looked so good with messy brown hair that shined under the sun. you really hoped you weren’t drooling.

his eyes crinkled with joy and held the same relieved look as yours. for a moment the two of you stared into each other’s eyes, the world put on pause.

“wait,” you suddenly said, everything clicking in your head, “are you the reason why my wrist hurts?”

he chuckled, stepping closer to you. he gently grabbed your right wrist, giving it a peck, “sorry ‘bout that.”

if possible, you felt your face heat up even more, “you can make up for it with a date.”

you stepped away from him, “but not before we add the final touches to the gallery.” you quickly turned away from him, annoyed that your face hasn’t cooled down and that your heart was still pumping like you just finished a race.

“let’s go,” you mumbled, hurrying out the door.

renjun raised his brows, taking the painting of you and the other painting that you initially came for.

“can’t forget these, can we?” he reminded, meeting you by the elevator.

you blinked, away your daze. “of course!” you told him, looking ahead. did he have to be so handsome?

when the two of you got into the elevator, you stood in the farthest corner, away from him.

“you know,” he started after a few moments of silence, “for someone who seemed very eager to meet me, you sure act like you don’t like me.”

you turned to him, his teasing smirk making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. “well, being around you makes my mind go blank.”

the elevator dinged and you didn’t waste any time to bolt to your car. you scrunched your face in embarrassment, hoping that maybe the earth will swallow you up.

“if it makes you feel any better, I can’t think straight when you’re naturally adorable like that,” he told you, easily catching up with you.

“don’t say things like that,” you pouted. your face was burning hotter now.

“but it’s true! you’re acting cute right now,” he laughed. your heart thumped at the noise, the most joyous sound you’ve ever heard.

you sighed, opening your car door. this boy will be the death of you.

#hae.renjun #hae.req #huang renjun #renjun drabbles #renjun scenarios #renjun blurbs #renjun imagines #renjun fluff #renjun soft hours #nct dream #nct dream soft hours #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream blurbs #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles

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the-mighty-jellybean · 4 years

Text

Black & Blue

Bruise: an injury appearing as an area of discoloured skin on the body, caused by a blow or impact rupturing underlying blood vessels...

Series Summary:

‘They littered her arms like splashes of watercolor paints, Steve couldn't stop staring, she pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan when she caught him. “I fell.” she muttered, pulling the fabric tight over her fragile body. All Steve wanted to do was pick her up, and put her in a box, like you would a broken bird. He wanted to fix this little bird, but he didn't know how.’

Pairing: Doctor!Steve x Reader, Brock x Reader

Series Warning: This story is going to be quite dark and heavy, and will contain heavy themes of domestic abuse. There will be: Violence and possible Noncon, if you are uncomfortable with any of these themes, please don't read, this book won't be for you.

Part One// Part Two// Part Three// Part Four// Part Five// Part Six// Part Seven// Part Eight// Part Nine// Part Ten// Part Eleven// Part Twelve// Part Thirteen// Part Fourteen// Part Fifteen//

Part Sixteen: Day One

Chapter Warnings: None, they’re in a courtroom for gosh sakes, they need to watch their mouths, but also Smug AF Brock, try not to get triggered

Word Count: 3.2k

Everyone had filed in for the first day of trial, Y/N and Steve were sitting at their usual bench, Mayor T’Challa sat next to Y/N. Nakia and Shuri were talking in hushed whispers, using lots of hand signals, and pointing at documents on the wooden desk. Rumlow’s defence team, were sat on the other side of the court room, Brock wasn’t there, he was yet to be brought out by the guards, after his night in the cells.

Then the sound of a heavy lock clicking, and the grinding of the door, had Y/N and Steve staring, as it slid open to reveal Brock, in a new suit, but his face looked worn and tired, his hair was slightly ruffled, and he appeared drained. His soulless eyes, scanned the courthouse, settling upon Y/N, making her shiver, and Steve pulled her tighter, noticing the marked man’s glare.

Rumlow dragged his feet to his table, sitting with Zola, and engaging in their own harsh, but hushed whispers.

Court began when Judge Carol Danvers was introduced by Clerk Carter, and she took her seat at her bench.

“Prosecution, please call your first witness to the stand.” Judge Danvers, signalled to Nakia,

“Thank you, your Honour. I call to the stand Mayor T’Challa.”

Nakia then turned to Mayor T’Challa. He stood, fastening the button of his finely pressed suit jacket, then strolled to the stand.

“Will the witness please stand to be sworn in by the clerk.” Margret stood from her seat, and walked to the stand, carrying the bible.

“Please raise your right hand,” T’Challa lifted his hand, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.”

T’Challa sat down at the lectern, whilst Nakia gathered some paper, before moving towards the stand, clearing her throat.

“Mayor T’Challa, how do you know the defendant?” Nakia asked, pacing back and forth in front of the witness stand.

“I employed him to assist me in a lawsuit case, against the board of education, after I was racial discriminated against, when I applied to be member of the board, over a year ago.” T’Challa explained.

“Was the trial successful?”

“Yes, he helped me to successfully win the case, but that wasn’t my last meeting with Mr Rumlow.” T’Challa replied, darkly.

“How many times have you come across Mr Rumlow during your career as Mayor?” Nakia, had moved closer to the jury now, and was walking along the barrier that separated them from main court.

“Mr Rumlow had begun to appear at City Hall more frequently post the lawsuit, often for financial reason, claiming he was needing payment for his services to me. However, I paid for Mr Rumlow’s services personally, so I could not understand why there was an account that was being paid by City Hall finances directly.”

Brock shifted uncomfortably, looking to Zola, who’s face remained stoic.

“What made you think the Mr Rumlow was involved?”

“I confronted Mr Rumlow, after I checked through the financial accounts with my assistant Okoye, and I noticed there was over $3 million, missing from the accounts, being paid to S.H.I.E.L.D legal firm, I asked him why there was so much money being transferred to the firm, despite, the fact that I had already paid Mr Rumlow.”

“What was Mr Rumlow’s reaction?”

“He became aggressively defensive. Mr Rumlow started to shout, and became very hostile towards me, it caused me to call for security, so that Mr Rumlow would be removed from the building. I thought that would be the end of it, until I received a death threat.” The court began to chatter, excitement bubbling from the back of the room, from the journalists.

“Quiet in the court please.” Judge Danvers demanded, the room fell quieter, and the attention was back on the stand.

“When did you receive this death threat?” Nakia continued her line of questioning.

“On May 23rd of last year, this was the same day that I had confronted Mr Rumlow about the missing money.”

“How was the death threat delivered to you?”

“It was left on the hood of my car, that I found once I left City Hall that day. It was in a zip lock bag, under the wipers of my car.” Nakia pulled something from her briefcase and lifted it aloft for the jury to see.

“Is this the death threat that you received?”

“Yes.” T’Challa confirmed.

“Members of the jury, I will now read the note out loud for you all to hear;

If I only knew then what I know now…I would have smothered you with a pillow, dump your body in the back seat. Dropped you off in East River, and made it look like a rape and murder.”

The court room appeared disgusted by the note, the jury’s faces were appalled, and they whispered among themselves. Brock once again shifted in his seat, Zola was frantically scribbling down notes on a piece of paper, Shuri and Nakia were smiling at each other.

Nakia turned back to T’Challa, after leaving the death threat on the jury bench.

“What did you do, after you received the death threat?”

“I went back into City Hall and began to launch an investigation into who had left this on the hood of my car. I checked the security cameras, that are positioned facing my car. It revealed a hooded man, of a similar size and build to Mr Rumlow, dressed in dark clothing, placing the note, within the bag on the hood of my car.”

“Did you attempt to confront, Mr Rumlow about the death threat?”

“I called him to my office the next day; I told him I needed to discuss something with him, I did not specify what that meeting was about.” T’Challa recounted, honestly.

“What was his response?”

“He did not respond to my phone call, I just got an automated email, to tell me that I need to apply for an appointment, so I decided to just file a police report. They told me they could do nothing because of my position as Mayor death threats were highly likely.” T’Challa concluded.

“Thank you, Your Honour, no further questions.” Nakia nodded and sat at her desk with Shuri.

“The Defence may cross-examine the witness.” Judge Danvers confirmed, Zola stood from his desk, and walked towards T’Challa’s stand, the paper clutched in his hand.

“Mayor T’Challa, you admitted that you first employed Mr Rumlow yourself, last year?” Zola began.

“Correct.” T’Challa response was short and quick.

“You chose Mr Rumlow to represent you because you know that he is a good lawyer.” Zola spoke pointedly.

“I chose Mr Rumlow because he had a high success rate, yes.” T’Challa agreed.

“Remind me again, what the case was for?”

“I was racial discriminated against-“

“You’ve faced a lot of racial discrimination over the last few years of your office, isn’t that correct?” Zola interrupted.

“Um…yes, you could say that-“

“It’s a common occurrence that you receive death threats, the police themselves admitted that it was part of your job to receive certain threats, did you not just admit that yourself?”

“Yes I did, but-“

“Would it be safe to say that you feel that you are very aware of racial discrimination within your working area, and therefore it’s something that is persistently on your mind?” Zola was leaving no room for T’Challa to answer, overpowering him with ease.

“Yes, as a black Mayor, there is often issue surrounding my skin colour and my ability to lead.”

“So, it is something that is on your mind.”

“Not intentionally-“

“Therefore, you just assumed that Mr Rumlow’s anger towards you may have been racially motivated.”

“What-no..I didn’t-“ T’Challa was beginning to grow visibly frustrated, his face crunching up.

“Do you often take such an interest in your finances?” Zola was quick to change the subject, feeling that the jury were seeing the side that he wanted to bring out.

“I do when money goes missing.” T’Challa’s anger was rising, and he gripped the side of the lectern like Brock had done so yesterday.

Y/N had been watching the back of Brock’s head intensely since Zola had took the stand, she noticed that he had now sat up straight, and the knowing smirk that had been on his face yesterday, was once again gracing his face.

“Does money often go missing at City Hall, are our public finances not being as well watched as you’d like us to believe?” Zola spoke coldly, and T’Challa tensed.

“I can assure you that the finances at City Hall are well monitored, I was alerted to the disappearance of the money by my assistant Okoye.” T’Challa spoke through his teeth.

“So, you didn’t spot the disappearance of money initially, but actually it was a second party?” Zola voiced cleverly.

“Correct.” T’Challa gritted through his teeth.

“Could there have been a misunderstanding, did you actually see the documents, detailing the money transfers?” Zola leaned on the jury bench.

“I saw copies-“ T’Challa muttered.

“Could you say that a bit louder, Mayor T’Challa?” Zola demanded, lifting his hand to cup his ear.

“I saw copies, but-“ T’Challa once again was not able to speak his whole truth, as Zola turned his back on him, and walked away.

“No further questions, your Honour.” Zola finished, sitting back at his desk, Brock had leant back on his chair, the smug look on his face, made Steve’s blood bubble.

“Thank you, Mayor T’Challa, please take a seat.” Judge Danvers waved him from the stand, whilst noting things on her own documents.

T’Challa moved from the stand, sitting next to Y/N, who gave him a nervous smile. He didn’t mirror it, instead he placed his head in his hands.

“Can the defendant take to the stand, for examination from the Defence and Prosecution.” Rumlow stood with confidence and strutted to the stand.

“Clerk Carter, please swear the defendant in.”

Margret once again walked to the stand, asking Rumlow to hold up his right hand, and swore him in, before returning to her previous position.

Zola stood from the desk and walked to Brock.

“Mr Rumlow, how long were you employed by Mayor T’Challa for his case, against the Board of Education?” Zola asked.

“I was under Mayor T’Challa’s employment for eight months.” Rumlow replied.

“How much would this cost, assuming you were treating the Plaintiff as a normal client?” Zola began to pace like Nakia had done, resting his chin on his hands, which were balanced on his folded arms.

“Well the case was very complex, but I did charge a standard price for Mayor T’Challa of $100,000 for every meeting that we had.” Brock smirked.

“Is this the invoice that you gave Mayor T’Challa?” Zola held a piece of paper in his hands, for the jury to see.

“Correct.”

“To members of the jury I have given you all a copy of the invoice, please take note of the final number, written at the bottom of the document. As you can see it reads, $1.3 million as the final charge, not the supposed three million that is said to be missing.”

Another murmur went around the court room.

“Mr Rumlow, were you working as a free-lance attorney, at the time, or were you working under S.H.I.E.L.D. legal firm?” Zola continues.

“I was working as an attorney for S.H.I.E.L.D at the time.” Rumlow responded.

“So, how much of the percentage of the fee, do you receive from S.H.I.E.L.D?” Zola, once again started to pace the court room.

“I only receive 20% of the total fee, for my services.” Rumlow clarified, he appeared to be in a place of relax, he sat back on the chair, his face appeared bored.

“Who handles the finances?” Zola picks up another document.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.” Brock shrugged, leaning onto his closed fist.

“So, if a mistake had been made, would you know about it?” Zola tapped his pen on his chin, appearing to be deep in thought.

“No, I’m not aware of the financial side of my job, the only involvement with the money that I have is when my pay check comes to me at the end of the month.” Rumlow chuckled, and the jury smiled, which made Y/N’s stomach twist.

“To clarify, you don’t have any involvement in the payment methods of S.H.I.E.L.D legal firm?” Zola looked up at the jury as he asked his question.

“I do not have anything to do with how S.H.I.E.L.D pays it’s employees.” Rumlow confirms.

“No more questions, your Honour.” Zola nodded to Judge Danvers, then returned to his seat.

Nakia stood, with a purpose, clutching a sheet of paper in her fists, a look of power on her face.

“Mr Rumlow, as the Defence ignored the allegation of conspiracy to commit murder, I’m going to question you on that.” Nakia moved forward, “As the first witness mentioned before, you can be quick to anger, can’t you?”

“Objection-leading the witness.” Zola yelled from his bench.

“Sustained.” Judge Danvers agreed.

“Would you say that you struggle with controlling your temper?” Nakia continued.

“Objection-Leading the witness.” Zola protested once again.

“I’ll sustain it this time, however; Nakia could you rephrase the question.” Judge Danvers responded.

“Looking into your background, there is evidence that you part took in aggressive sports; such as, boxing and martial arts, is that correct?” Nakia moved on.

“Yes, as a child I did take part in boxing and karate, however; it was more about the discipline for the sport, not the aggression.” Rumlow replied, slightly tensed.

“Do you still enjoy these sports?” Nakia walked round to the jury.

“Occasionally I will box at my local gym, but I don’t compete anymore.” Rumlow confessed.

“What do you mean by discipline, Mr Rumlow?” Nakia leant against the jury bench.

“Discipline in sport, is often the ability for an individual to exert self-control.” Rumlow explained.

“Self-control is something that you struggle with, is it not, Mr Rumlow?”

“Objection-irrelevant.” Zola challenged.

“Over-ruled, Mr Rumlow answer the question.” Judge Danvers ignored Zola, eyes focused on Brock.

“Could you rephrase the question?” Rumlow shifted in his seat.

“Would you say that sometimes you lack self-control, when it comes to expressing your emotions?” Nakia did as Brock asked, but he still seemed uncomfortable.

“Being an attorney is a highly stressful job, I try to keep a level head, sometimes I can get frustrated.” Rumlow sat up on his chair, and leant forward.

“How do you express your frustration, Mr Rumlow?” Nakia asked, flatly.

“I…um…well-“ Rumlow stammered, he wasn’t sure what to do, he was frozen.

“Do you become violent; do you take you aggression out on others?”

“Objection-leading the witness.” Zola shouted once again.

“Over-ruled, answer the question, Mr Rumlow.” Judge Danvers demanded.

“I…don’t know…how.” Brock stammered, wiping at his forehead that had started to bead with sweat.

“Thank you, your Honour, I don’t have any further questions.” Nakia smiled, walking past the jury, who were all muttering to each other.

“That will conclude trial for today, we will commence once again tomorrow morning. The Prosecution and the Defence please prepare your witnesses for the secondary charges that will take the stand tomorrow. Officer Coulson and Officer Wen, please take Mr Rumlow back to his cell.” Judge Danvers concluded, Brock begrudgingly rose from his seat, and followed the two officers to the sliding door, disappearing behind the iron door.

“Court you are dismissed, and we shall continue this tomorrow morning.” Judge Danvers used her gavel to disperse the crowd.

Y/N fell into Steve’s side, letting out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding.

“You okay, bubba?” Steve wrapped his arm tightly around Y/N.

“Just want to get out of here.” She mumbled, Steve nodded, standing and guiding her from the room, Shuri and Nakia were following closely behind.

“Y/N, I know it’s been a long day, but could we just quickly discuss your testimony tomorrow?” Shuri asked, gently, noticing the drained look on her face.

“Um, sure, but can we do it somewhere else?” Y/N didn’t fancy staying much longer in the courthouse, wanting to just relax as best she could. The combination of seeing Brock and the squirming baby inside her was making her feel nauseous.

“Of course, we can head back to your hotel, or we can go to a coffee shop down the street?” Shuri offered.

“Let’s head to the coffee shop, I think Y/N could do with some food.” Steve opted, everyone nodding with agreement.

The group managed to weave their way through the crowd of photographers and news crews, and into the car, before they sped off to the closest coffee shop.

~~~~

“So, like Nakia questioned T’Challa, I’ll do the same for you, your answer will be evaluated by the jury and Judge Danvers, and it can be used against you by the opposition. So, before you answer make sure you understand the question, if you don’t then just ask me to rephrase the question or, to reiterate, and I’ll change it so you can.” Shuri began to give her masterclass, Steve and Y/N sat opposite her, sipping on their warm beverages, Y/N trying to stop her knee from bouncing nervously.

“If me or Mr Zola ask a difficult question, take time to respond, don’t rush, you don’t have a time limit.” Y/N nodded, sipping her drink, using two hands to stop her trembling fingers.

“If Zola asks you a question and you don’t want to answer the entire question, find a part that you can address.” Steve squeezed Y/N’s bouncing knee, helping to steady her.

“Also one major point is Zola might ask you some questions that you find uncomfortable, I will object if I think he’s gone too far, but if Danvers over rules it, then you will have to answer it, but be careful with the tone that you use, and the body language you portray, if you appear to be too sharp, or you look vulnerable, then Zola could accuse you of lying.” Y/N gulped all the information she just received made her stomach churn.

She looked at Steve, who gave her a reassuring smile.

“You’re going to be okay, sweetheart.” Steve assured her.

“You will Y/N, me and Steve will be with you the whole time. I will represent you as best I can, just be honest, stay calm, and you’ll be just fine.” Shuri promised, rubbing her hand on her knee.

“What about Peter, will he take the stand as well tomorrow?” Y/N looked up hopefully.

“I’m afraid we don’t know where Mr Parker is, he appears to have gone missing.” Y/N’s eyes widened, the worst scenarios playing in her head, like a horror movie.

“Do you think Brock has done something?” Y/N asked in a panic.

“There’s no suspicion surrounding his disappearance, but Sam is looking for him as best he can, that’s why he wasn’t at court. He’s been looking for him.” Y/N wasn’t convinced, people don’t tend to just disappear for no reason, however, Brock did have that effect on people.

“How long do we have to find him?” Y/N questioned.

“I don’t know, this trial could be over tomorrow, or it could be two months before we have a verdict.” Shuri spoke, sadly.

“Oh God.” Y/N sighed, flopping back onto the spongy couch of the coffee shop, rubbing her hands over her bump.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Y/N huffed.

“We can do this, Y/N. We’re almost there. With the way Nakia made Rumlow sweat, that’s what we’re going to do again, the jury will swing in your favour, and we’re going to get him jailed.” Shuri insured.

“Your optimism is truly incredible.”

A/N: You just know that Brock’s going to pull some shiz tomorrow!!

Part Seventeen//

Taglist:

@this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @cutie1365 @saiyanprincesswanie @pasaaloquepasaa @emma-is-a-nerd @traumschiffe @putinovertime @vibraniumdaisies @brownsugur @speechlessxx @winchester-wifey @buckys-forgotten-plum @lou-la-lou @candy-and-writing @lemonadygirl

#steve rogers #steve x reader #steve fic #steve angst #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow #dark fic #dark steve fic #dark marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel movies #doctor!steve #doctor!steve x reader #domestic abuse #adult themes #reader insert

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Flatbush & Atlantic: part i

Quick note: This is taking place in the 2020-21 season, as if the Islanders still play at Barclays; I know they won’t in actuality. In the story, I’m also going to be taking some liberties with what the duties of a team’s general counsel and legal team would actually be in charge of. My understanding, as a pre-law student, is that it’s more on the corporate angle, dealing with contracts and stuff — in addition to that, Cass will also be dealing with some more immigration and employment law as well.

part i

October 1

“Adiós, mamá. Hablamos pronto. Te amo.” Cassidy hung up, breathing out a tense sigh and rubbing her temples with the heels of her hands. Talking to her mom usually helped to calm her down, bring her back to Earth, but for whatever reason it wasn’t taking. She took a brief glance at the casebook open on her dinged-up Ikea desk. Federal Indian Law. She liked the class, genuinely, but her day had started off bad and gotten worse pretty damn quickly. First she was out of her favorite tea, then her advisor cancelled their meeting, then it started raining as she walked back to her MTA stop, so she had missed the train. Another came fifteen minutes later, but the damage was already done. The only bright spot in the day, aside from calling her mom, had been the cute guy at the Polish deli down the street who had put extra peppers on her Philly cheesesteak. She unwrapped the sandwich, taking a moody bite out of the end. A caramelized onion dropped to the floor. Sighing, she leaned down to pick it up, hurtling it in the direction of the trashcan but only half-looking to see if it reached its target destination. Despite the name, Cass had never had a cheesesteak before she moved to New York, and it wasn’t even because she wasn’t a sandwich person. No, Cass loved a good sandwich, but between her proclivity towards a good BLT and her mom’s homemade Mexican food, she just hadn’t gotten around to it.

Her laptop dinged with an email notification. What now? She swiped over to the mail page, taking another bite as she read the subject line. Experiential learning requirement - unmet. Her brow furrowed. Unmet? Clicking it open, she scanned the email, clearly something automated from the registrar’s office. Yet to complete Columbia’s experiential learning requirement...We suggest you connect with professors...You have until October 8 to submit...Cassidy never finished her sandwich. “Oh my God,” she muttered to herself, feeling her cheeks heat up. “How could you do this? How could you be so stupid, Cass?” She was normally so on top of everything, never missed a date, never forgot an assignment, so how could she have missed one of the only things left to do to graduate? Her law school required all of the graduates to complete some sort of experiential learning requirement — some kind of externship, clinic, summer associate position, anything to get them “out in the real world.” That’s when it hit her. She had coached her high school’s mock trial team the summer after her first year, and interned at the Hartford County DA’s the summer after. But they paid her. Her school had a weird ‘double-dip’ policy, where you weren’t allowed to take a position for class credit and get paid at the same time. It was a confusing rule, convoluted and bizarre and probably a little bit elitist, but it was a rule. As if the day couldn’t get any worse, and then somehow it did.

Turning to her laptop, she started searching for just about anything that could possibly help her. The school’s website, the Manhattan District Attorney’s, state offices, NGOs, federal prosecutors, anyone that might have a lead. Frantically dragging over her resumé and throwing together a cover letter that probably (hopefully) looked way more interesting than it actually was, Cassidy fired off email after email after email. Two hours later, she had sent off some twenty-odd applications, hoping that at least one or two would end up panning out. Glancing at her watch, she let out an exasperated breath. 12:22 A.M. Her classes didn’t start until nine, but it took almost an hour and a subway connection to get to Columbia, and she had to eat and shower before. So, really, it meant getting up at about seven. She needed to go to bed.

Stomach reeling and feeling more resigned than anything, Cass haphazardly brushed her teeth, flossed — it didn’t matter how tired she was, she’d never forget to floss — and clambered into bed, wearing a faded, way-too-big Rangers t-shirt. I’ll be okay. She took a deep breath. It’ll be okay. It has to be. Cassidy Cabrera Shaw was tough as nails and stubborn as hell, and she wasn’t going to let everything she had worked so hard for fall apart so easily.

Whenever Cass was nervous, or anxious, or afraid, she was never able to sleep well. She ended up waking up at ten past six, sitting in her bed for fifteen minutes praying that she’d fall back asleep, and finally accepting her fate that sleep just wasn’t going to come. Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from where she had left it charging on the nightstand. Nightstand was maybe a generous term for it; technically, it was a wooden milk crate that she had spray painted white when she and the other girls had moved into the apartment two years prior. She had a little bit of money set aside from college, but every penny possible was going towards tuition and those ungodly-expensive books that she had to buy every semester. The mattress and frame were from Ikea, and Cass had brought some things like bedding and a desk from her old room. The rest of it — rugs, lighting, and decorations like her six-inch ceramic peacock (his name was Charles) had come from a combination of Goodwill runs and senior citizen yard sales.

Wincing as she did so, Cass pulled up her email, bracing herself for the inevitable barrage of rejection. After scrolling past ten or so automated “no longer hiring” and “position has been filled” messages, one caught her eye. She had sent a few emails to professors of hers, not expecting to hear anything back for a few days. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but there certainly were advantages of going to school in a city as massive as New York. All of her professors knew someone and had some kind of connection from their own education, or days in the practice, or childhood summer trips to the Hamptons with someone who just so happened to be a judge on the Second Circuit Court — that last one was last year’s employment law professor. One particular subject line caught her eye. Thought you might be interested, Professor Murakami had written. David, as he preferred to be called, was her Sports Law professor from last year. She didn’t go into the class expecting to enjoy it all that much, if she was being honest. She had gotten a crappy registration time and most other classes were filled, so it had started out as a placeholder and nothing more. Over the semester, though, it had quickly become one of her favorites, combining pieces of everything else she had studied into one cohesive course. Cass also wasn’t in a position to be turning down any potential offers, so she opened the email and started reading.

I got your email, Cassidy, and think I might be able to help. Okay, so far, so good. I happen to have a contact in the counsel’s office of one of the professional sports teams in the city. That’s exactly what Cass was talking about — where do these people meet each other? Is there some kind of exclusive speakeasy you’re given the password to as soon as you’re admitted to the state bar? Chris Cohen works for the Islanders, and I remember you talking about how interested in hockey you are. Okay, true, but the Islanders? She had practically been born with a Ranger’s jersey on. Beggars can’t be choosers, she thought. I gave him a heads-up that I’d likely be sending a promising candidate his way, so just let me know if this sounds like something you’d be interested in and I’ll send along your contact information.

Cass couldn’t respond fast enough. Yes, please!

---

Wednesdays were her ‘easy’ days, if you could say that. She had Environmental Law and Human Rights back-to-back, but anything after noon was pretty much fair game. That being said, it certainly didn’t mean that she was any less stressed. There were at least a hundred pages to read before class the next day, she had a sample essay due for bar prep, and her mind was still racing about the email. Grabbing a gyro from the cart outside of her last class of the day, Cass stress-ate with one hand while continually refreshing her inbox with the other. Food wasn’t allowed in the library, so she ate the last few bites right outside the doors, throwing away the wrapper and squeezing past the hordes of clearly overwhelmed first-years running to get to class on time.

Popping her Airpods out of their case and into her ears, Cass briskly made her way up the stairs to the third floor, crossing her fingers that her usual spot, a big blue chair over by the research desk, was open. She was in luck, pulling out a water bottle and laptop and getting to work on editing. Four hours later, she had reached some semblance of satisfaction with her work, shutting off her computer and making her way to the subway. There was about half an hour before she had to transfer to the line that would take her to the apartment; squeezing into one of the last free seats, she tugged out a textbook and a highlighter. Why her professor insisted on assigning the entire text of the United Nations charter was a mystery to her, but she’d rather jump off a cliff than be cold called on without an answer. Transferring at Grand Concourse took about ten minutes — it was rush hour, so the first train to come was entirely full — and another twenty or so minutes later, she was letting herself into her shared East Bronx apartment.

Hanging up her denim jacket by the door and toeing off her sneakers, Cass let out a not-so-subtle exasperated sigh.

“One of those days?” Alicia piped in from the kitchen. Alicia also lived in the apartment, one of the four sorority sisters-turned-roommates who had made the move from Connecticut down to New York after graduation. Cass padded into the kitchen, where she was greeted by Alicia in front of a skillet and rice cooker, intensely sautéeing some vegetables.

“You have no idea,” Cass said, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha making?” There were obviously some nights when not everyone was home — most often either Cass or Ryanne, who was in med school — but they always tried to have a few nights a week where someone would cook a meal for the whole house.

“Japchae, it’s my mom’s recipe,” she replied. “I called her and asked how much sesame oil to use, and she just said ‘until it tastes right.’ Like, I love you, Mom, but that doesn’t really help my cause, does it?”

Cass snorted. “Oh for sure, it’s the same way with me. Do you remember the first time I made tamales down here?” Cass had grown up eating and making tamales with her mom and abuela, but she had never been allowed to really take the reins. She had the recipe, though, so the first night after they were moved in, she ventured down to the closest bodega, bought the ingredients, and decided to try her hand making them from scratch. The recipe, however, left out the key piece of exactly how much water to use for steaming — Cass didn’t know, and her mom had always just eyeballed it. So she had ended up putting in way too little and setting the stove way too hot, and to make a long story short, ended up setting off the fire alarm. The one saving grace was the extremely attractive police office that came to double-check the false alarm, but even he couldn’t wipe the mortified expression off of her face.

“How could I forget?” Alicia responded with a grin. “Go put your shit down, it’ll be ready in a few.”

Cass playfully rolled her eyes, heading towards her room in the back. “Yes, mother.” Their apartment was a three bedroom; while obviously it would have been amazing for everyone to have their own, it was still New York City and none of them were exactly rolling in the dough. Cassidy and Ryanne were obviously still students, and while Alicia and Stella had actual jobs — Stella worked international business down by Wall Street and Alicia did something with satellites in Queens — none of them were exactly inclined to set out on their own just yet. So Stella and Alicia shared a room, and she and Ryanne had their own. She shrugged off her jacket, slinging her backpack onto the bed before chugging the rest of her water bottle and checking her phone. Two new emails. A 20% off coupon to Lush, and one from Chris Cohen. Chris Cohen? It took her a minute to remember, but when she did, she couldn’t read it fast enough.

Honestly, Cass didn’t read the whole thing, but got enough information to know that she had an interview Friday afternoon at the office in Brooklyn, that Chris — he had said to call him Chris — said she came with a stellar recommendation from Professor Murakami (an old law school buddy, figures) and that there was no way in hell she was going to fuck this up. She wouldn’t let herself.

---

Cass was lucky her Thursdays were so packed; if she had any extra time to stress over her impending interview, she would have, but she couldn’t. She had two ‘free’ hours in between classes, but after she had scarfed down lunch (Alicia had, mercifully, made plenty of leftovers) it was the only stretch she had to hit the gym. Coupled with the time it took to walk there, change, and shower after, there really wasn’t much in the way of downtime. After classes was her bar prep group, and the day was so exhausting that it was pretty much all she could manage to take the train home, microwave dinosaur chicken nuggets, and stumble into bed. After flossing.

---

If Cassidy lived in any other city, she would have felt wildly out of place on her morning commute. Who shows up to school wearing a suit? She wasn’t an absolute masochist, so her heels were in her bag. But for once in her life she didn’t feel so out of place among the presumably-highbrow, presumably-making-six-figures crowd surrounding her. The suit had been her first big purchase for herself — she had scraped by without one in college, but invested as soon as she had a little saved up from her summer job at a boutique in town. Her mother had always told her that it was the woman who made the clothes, rather than the other way around, and Cass always did what her mom said.

Samaira, one of her friends and another editor on the Columbia Law Review, caught up to her as they both left the twice-weekly morning meeting. “You seem kind of jumpy, Cass. What’s up?”

Cassidy wrung her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “I told you that I missed the internship requirement thing, right?” Samaira nodded. “Well, I have an internship in,” she paused to look at her watch, “two hours, and I’m so nervous I’m going to mess this up. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t get it. There’s not time to look for something else, there’s no alternative, and I don’t know what to do if my own stupidity and forgetfulness is the only thing standing in between me and something I’ve worked so fucking hard for—”

Samaira cut her off. “I’m going to stop you there. That’s bull, Cass, and you know it. You are the furthest thing from a disappointment. You’re one of the kindest, sharpest, and most creative people I know, and you’re not going to let something as petty as a deadline stand in your way. Time gets away from all of us sometimes, and it’s nothing to beat yourself up over. I want you to be confident and have faith in yourself, because you deserve it, but if you don’t, it’s okay. I get it. I believe in you enough for the both of us.” She squeezed Cass’ hand.

She managed a watery smile. “Thanks, Samaira.”

“Any time,” she replied easily. “I’ve got to run to class now, but I want to hear how it went the second you get out, okay?”

“I will.”

Samaira rolled her eyes. “I mean it. You’re going to crush this, Cass. Love you!” She added, waving goodbye as she turned the corner.

There was half an hour before Cass needed to head over to the interview, and before she knew it her feet had taken her to her favorite spot on the north side of Central Park. Grabbing a bagel, she thankfully found the bench empty. After finishing the bagel — she would have preferred cheese, but they were out, so cinnamon raisin it was — and the better part of her Hozier-dominated acoustic playlist, it was time to catch the train. She jumped on with barely a second to spare, grabbing a strap and trying to avoid bumping into anyone.

A seat opened up about halfway to Brooklyn, and Cass took the opportunity to unceremoniously tug off her much more practical flats and switch into the much more professional ankle-strap heels that had been stuffed in her backpack all day. For a fleeting moment, she was worried what everyone around her would think; she was, after all, technically changing on public transportation. A man got on at the next stop who was dressed head-to-toe in neon orange while carrying a Pomeranian in his purse. Nobody batted an eye. She got over herself pretty quickly.

Getting off at the Barclays Center station, Cass pulled out her phone, opening up the camera to give herself a quick once-over. As much as she hated it, first impressions really were everything. Lipstick? Not smudged. Hair? Minimal flyaways. Teeth? No spinach to be seen. Triple-checking that she had the time right, Cass walked through the doors of the office building, Islanders logo emblazoned on the wall behind the secretary’s desk.

“Hi,” she said tentatively, catching his attention. “I have an interview with Chris Cohen at 2?”

The secretary nodded, smiling warmly at her. “No problem. I’m Josh, you can have a seat over there,” he nodded to the small waiting area off to the side, “and I’ll call you when he’s ready for you to be sent up.”

Cass didn’t wait for more than five minutes before Josh gave her the go-ahead, and she was soon headed up the elevator to Chris’ office. “Fourth door on the left. It should have his name on it,” Josh had added.

She raised her fist, knocking quickly on the frosted glass. It swung open a second later, a kind-looking man with glasses and salt-and-pepper hair answering. “You must be Cassidy. I’m Chris Cohen, so nice to meet you. Come right in,” he said, ushering her through the room, where several other associates sat at desks, and into his office.

“David’s always good at keeping an eye out for me in his courses, and I was happy he passed you along,” Chris said, pulling out her resumé. “And you’re a 3L, correct?” She nodded. “Good. So let’s dive right into it. What courses and work experience do you have that you feel best position you for success in this position?” Much though Cass was loath to admit it, if there was anything she was good at, it was talking herself up. There was a reason her high school superlative was “Most Likely to be Able to Talk Their Way Out of a Ticket.” She launched into a well-rehearsed response, making sure to lace in her love for hockey once or twice. If nothing else, it would hopefully at least get her some brownie points. He had a few questions about her resumé, asked about her work on the law review, a few hypotheticals about contract law. She was batting a thousand until he asked the dreaded final question. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Cass was wracking her brain, trying to come up with some intelligent-sounding thing to ask, but nothing came. “Uh—” she started, but was saved by the bell. Or, rather, saved by a frantic door opening and a panicked-sounding Mat Barzal bursting into the room. “Chris, I’ve got a problem.”

#hockey imagine #hockey #nhl imagine #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl #hockey writing #nhl writing #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #islanders #mat barzal imagines

91 notes · View notes

nalgenewhore · 4 years

Text

crossing lines - part four

Lorcan couldn’t remember the last time he felt this bad. He couldn’t even remember how he got home the night before.

A blinding light cut through his window to wake him and he staggered to his feet, his head pounding as he pulled the blinds closed, for once not looking to Elide’s window, her bedroom facing his.

The room was plunged into darkness and he stumbled back to his bed, tripping over something and conveniently falling onto the mattress.

Lorcan burrowed further under his duvet and wrapped his arms around a pillow, groaning when it smelled like Elide’s shampoo. He couldn’t escape her. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was her face after they kissed, shocked and, and heartbroken.

He could still see the tears welling in her eyes before she turned and fled back into the house.

Fuck. Fuck. He should’ve run after her, should’ve talked to her about it, but no. No, he’d been a coward and stayed outside until he was numb enough to step foot in and drink until he couldn’t remember.

There came a soft knock on his door and he groaned, the only noise he could make. He was surprised to see Rowan standing there, a smirk on his face.

“Fuck off,” Lorcan muttered, shifting away from his brother. He heard Rowan sigh and enter into the room, the bed dipping beneath his frame as he sat. “Rowan, I said fuck off and I meant it-”

“Why are you so pissy?”

“Because I ruined everything!” yelled Lorcan, his throat hoarse and dry as he sat up quickly, his head pounding. “I completely fucked our whole friendship up and-” his breath hitched and tears pooled in his eyes, “I messed up, man.” He angrily wiped his cheeks, the backs of his hands coming away wet.

Shock was swimming in his brother’s green eyes, worry in the furrow of his brows, “What, did you say something or-”

“We kissed.” And it was the best thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life and I am completely head over heels in love with her, but she doesn’t and will never know. “I kissed her and she looked fucking heartbroken. I did that.” I broke her heart.

“Oh gods.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

It was hours before Lorcan managed to curb his self-pitying wallowing session and got up from bed, his mouth dry and his tongue sticky. He tugged on a pair of sweat shorts and ran his hand through his hair before walking downstairs. Rowan had left a few hours ago so it was just him.

His mom was away for work this weekend and for that he was grateful. He could only imagine the berating she would unleash upon him. Odette Salvaterre wasn’t one to easily let her son off the hook.

Lorcan was at the top of the staircase before he realized he should probably brush his teeth and use the amenities.

A few minutes later, he emerged, a tad bit more awake he had been prior. He had found his phone, dead, resting on top of the toilet tank and for a second, he thought maybe he would let it stay dead, until he was ready to deal with it.

Cursing himself, he plugged it in and walked away from it, rooting through the fridge for any type of fresh, cold fruit.

He found a bag of oranges and took it out, grabbing the water that was sitting in a jug. Lorcan hip checked the fridge door to close it and then placed the oranges and water on the counter. His phone started blowing up, buzzing so aggressively it fell to the floor. “Fuck,” he said, jogging to pick it up. There were no new scratches or cracks on the screen and he thanked Hellas for that.

Lorcan typed in his password, the date of Elide’s birthday, as he made his way back to the counter. He opened up Snapchat and began the long process of clicking through everybody’s stories. He didn’t even look at any of the pictures or videos, just kept tapping on the screen to get through them.

After he had opened and replied to everything he’d been sent, he noticed Elide had sent him a chat.

His heart began pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear it. His hands shook as he tapped on the little blue chat notification, his eyes wide. He was sure that this would be the message where she told him they couldn’t be friends anymore.

All it read was, You need to get a new suit for my prom. Yours won’t match my dress.

Lorcan froze, was that really all she had to say? He checked his notifications and that was the only thing she’d sent him.

Still shaking, he typed out, You still want me to be your date?

Elide’s icon popped up and she was typing. Well, yeah, that was the plan.

His brow furrowed, What about what happened last night though?

Elide’s reply took a few extra moments. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it, it’s not like it really mattered or meant anything.

Lorcan felt his heart crack and shatter to pieces. Knowing if he didn’t do it now, he would never do it, he tapped out a quick message, a question. What if I want it to mean something?

He knew that she had seen it, but no message followed through. Lorcan groaned and let his head fall to the marble counter, his forehead hitting the flat surface. Good job fucking ruining the most important relationship in your life, Lorcan. Great effort, bud!

Lorcan sat up, no, this wouldn’t be the end, their decade long friendship would not end over eight words. He unlocked his phone and called her, but it went straight to voicemail. He groaned as the automated message played and after the beep, “El, listen, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t want to ruin us. Please, please just call me back?”

He hung up and stood up, almost ready to race to her house and throw rocks at her window if he had to. Just as he was hurrying to the door, somebody knocked impatiently. He cursed the gods, he didn’t need any interruptions right now, he was trying to save the most important thing to him.

Putting on a mildly pleasant face, he opened the door only to find Elide standing there, her phone held tight in her grasp. He couldn’t help the way his eyes travelled down her body. She wore one of his long-sleeve shirts, his name and number on the right sleeve. It hit mid thigh but he knew she would be wearing a pair of spandex shorts beneath it. “El-”

“Did you mean that?” On her screen read that damning message.

Lorcan just stared at her, weighing his options. He settled on telling her the truth, “Yes, I meant it. I’m in love with you, Elide. I have been for years. I- I shouldn’t have kissed you last night and I’m sorry if-”

She cut him off with her finger on his lips, “Shush, you idiot. I’m in love with you too.” A warm smile spread her lips as she looked up at him, giggling at the utter shock on his face.

“You are?”

“Yes,” she breathed, nodding her head. “Yes, gods, I’m so in love with you, I’m going crazy. I stayed in bed all day cause I was scared if I left and talked to you, you would tell me you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“But the message-”

Elide shook her head, “I just, I was waiting for you to say something, but then I realized that it’s you. You’d never say anything. I wanted to seem like I was fine with it because if it didn’t mean anything to you, that would’ve wrecked me, but I still would’ve wanted to be your friend.” There were tears caught in her lashes and he cupped her face, running his thumb underneath her eye.

“It meant everything to me, El. Everything.”

She laughed tearfully, resting her cheek in his palm. “I love you,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip. Lorcan grinned as he leaned down and cupped the back of her head, pressing his lips to hers.

He felt her smile against his lips and she wound her arms around his neck. His hands traveled down to her thighs and in one smooth motion, he picked her up. Her legs looped around his waist and he kicked the door shut behind them, carrying her to the kitchen counter. “I love you,” he said against her lips, his heart feeling tight in his chest.

Elide gasped slightly as the coolness of the marble hit her bare skin and she pulled away, smiling softly at him. Lorcan grinned back at her and kissed her brow before sitting in the stool, his head resting against her thigh. Elide chuckled and ran her hand through his hair, “I can’t believe it.”

“What do you mean,” he asked, his eyes half open.

Elide shrugged, “I never thought that this would ever happen. I thought that I would only ever be your best friend and nothing more.”

Lorcan opened his eyes fully and looked up at her, swallowing past the lump in his throat, “Well, thank gods for liquor and weed, then.” He smirked as Elide smacked his shoulder and grew serious, tears pooling in his eyes. He’d almost lost her, had come so close to it. “Me too, E.”

Elide leaned down to kiss his temple, “What’s with the water and oranges?”

Lorcan groaned and buried his face in her thigh, “Hangover. Apparently I went a little too hard last night.” She laughed and he muttered into the soft skin of her leg, “Are you laughing at my misery?”

She shook her head, still laughing, “No, I’m not, I promise.” Elide cackled, “Maybe a little.”

“You’re a menace.”

“A menace that you’re in love with,” she said, a cocky grin on her face as he stood up. Elide hooked a finger in the chain hanging around his neck and tugged him forward, brushing her lips over his.

“That I am.” He kissed her slowly, his hands gripping her thighs. Elide groaned and parted her lips, allowing his tongue to slide lazily in and tangle with hers. Her arms looped around his shoulders, her knees hitching over his hips.

When Lorcan broke apart from her, she whined, the sound turning into a low and full moan as he began to trail his lips down her jaw and neck, grazing his teeth over her pulse. “What colour will you have me wear this time, love?”

Her breath hitched and she breathed out her answer, her voice high and airy, “Black.”

Lorcan’s hands tightened on her thighs, “You’ll be the death of me, Elide Lochan.” He pulled away and held her face in his hand, her cheeks squished together in his grip, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

@myfeyrelady @schmlip-scribble @kandasboi @the-regal-warrior @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @bamchickawowow @la7sorcellerie @julemmaes @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @emmejo26 @exercise-me-i-dare-u @cmoff1 @uselessflower14 @hizqueen4life

#crossing lines #cl 4 #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #i may have another part to share with you lovelies....

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insfiringyou · 4 years

Text

BTS - What’s Important (RM x Ji-eun)

Contains: Angst. Career talk. Possible indications of disbandment. Brief mentions of Suga x Jeong-sun and V x Cassandra

This is set a few days following RM and Ji-eun’s storyline in the fic ‘They Orgasm Unexpectedly’, while Namjoon is in service.

We wanted to show some moments between the members and their girlfriends that may not seem grand or important in the long run, but that highlight some of the conversations they might have in private. We also don’t want to shy away from some of the arguments, disagreements or bickering that might take place. More couples to follow soon.

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook & our full masterlist can be found here

Content below the cut

The meeting had been long and boring, taking place on the building’s top floor which offered a brilliant view of the city. Ji-eun watched the sky slowly darken through the wide windows which stretched along the length of the room, silently cursing the fact she wouldn’t get home until gone ten o’clock. The next few hours stretched slowly, with the journey home passing in a quiet daze; the warmth of her apartment greeting and caressing her otherwise cold skin as she walked through the door. Feeling tired, she showered quickly, lathering her long hair with raspberry-scented suds and enjoying the heat of the spray on her bare back. Her cell had gone forgotten throughout the meeting, dutifully turned off as per her manager’s instructions and buried in the bottom of her black handbag, so she had missed the call, not noticing it until after her shower as she headed to the bedroom.

The little notification light pinged brightly in the darkness, her hair and body wrapped in the fluffy confines of a towel and she swiped the screen as she perched herself on the edge of the duvet, selecting the voicemail icon with a frown.

She pressed the phone to her ear, waiting for the instructional message to finish, until a clicking sound signalled the start of the recording. “It’s Namjoon…” His deep voice took her by surprise, though she had heard it in person only two days before. He was clearly trying to find the right words to say into the empty device, his message full of pauses. “I was hoping we could talk...but, I guess you’re busy…”

Ji-eun suspected he would end the conversation there after a quick goodbye, and instinctively moved the cell away from her ear, getting ready to hang up, but held back when he slowly pressed on.

“I got here okay...the traffic was a little congested but I made it back on time.” His voice was low, distracted, as though building up to something and Ji-eun couldn’t help but feel nervous. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to call for a few days, so I’m hoping you’ll hear this. I don’t know if you check your messages…”

She realised her spare hand was curling around the edge of the duvet, bunching it anxiously into her closed fist. It had been a long time since she had felt so jittery and the urge to move out of the dark room and into the kitchen was overwhelming. She couldn’t recall whether she had finished the bottle of Merlot she had started the previous night, but hoped not. His voice brought her back with another sigh.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable the other night…” The short silence which followed told her he was thinking this through, trying to wrap his head around his own actions, and her heart rate increased in response. She felt its steady hum in her neck and fingertips as she clutched the phone tighter, her knuckles straining against the outline. “I don’t know what came over me, but I know it wasn’t right.” There was a sharp intake of air before he continued. “You worked hard to get the reservation...to make it special for me...and I…” He tapered off for a moment, and Ji-eun wondered whether he’d be able to bring himself to tell her what was wrong.

The short hotel-stay had been expensive, but she had wanted to get away from home. It had been too quiet in recent months...too lonely without him, and she knew making more memories together in that space before he was out for good would be too hard; she would have to continue eating and sleeping and living there until he got back; until they could resume their lives. The bitter memory of the morning after came flooding back; the way they dressed in silence at opposite ends of the bedroom, and the cold, stiff gesture of his lips against her cheek as he said goodbye.

“I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” She heard the sadness in his apology, the regret of his actions, along with something else, and what he said next made her heart sink. “I just don’t think I’ve been doing so well recently.”

His confession took her aback, but made sense. The last time she had seen him, he had been withdrawn; trapped in his own thoughts. Even then, as she lay silently in the double bed next to him, tucked under the heavy winter duvet, she wished she could get inside his brain and take his troubles away for him, if only he would let her.

“It never really hit me until a few weeks ago…” He continued in a hushed, quiet tone, as though fearing being overheard. “I figured I’d been through worse, and I haven’t that long to go…”

Ji-eun let go of the bed covers, giving in and heading towards the little kitchen down the hall.

“I guess I’ve just been thinking about what will happen when I come out, what will be waiting for me...” She held her phone to her ear as she walked, tucking the towel tighter around her bust before switching on the light. The glare made her eyes water, but she felt her way to the fridge and breathed a small sigh of relief when she found the bottle sitting on the bottom rack, a few mouthfuls left in the bottom. One handedly, she unscrewed the cap and found a clean glass on the drying board. “I know it’s been on everyone’s mind. Maybe some more than others…”

Silently, she made her way back to the bedroom, sipping slowly as she walked. Her shoulders had been tense and uncomfortable all afternoon, but seemed to relax as she sat heavily back on the bed. Namjoon carried on talking on the other end and, now he had started, it seemed his worries were slowly spilling out. It came as a relief. She wished she could have heard it from him first hand, but suspected he would have not been able to confess as openly if she had been there with him.

“It didn’t seem so complicated when I went in...I guess we all thought we would just pick up where we’d left off, but I’m not sure that’s the case anymore.” There was a small crack on the line and for a moment she worried he had been cut off or that the messaging timer had run out. He went quiet for a moment before his voice became clear, the first half of his sentence cut off. “...solo album, and with everything that’s happening with Taehyung…” Another sigh. “I guess I’m just wondering my place in all of this.”

It seemed apparent he had not voiced these concerns to anyone else; that she was the first to hear them and it suddenly occurred to her how trivial she had once thought his worries were compared to her own. When they first met, she couldn’t understand why he sometimes got so worked up in the other member’s lives to the point their grievances became his, but somewhere along the line she began to realise how much they meant to him and how hard he had worked for their achievements. They weren’t so different in that respect, and once it became clear, it seemed to make sense why he had been so attracted to her on the day they met five years before. He had seen a part of himself in her, and while it was not as fiercely visible on the surface, his ambitions and the sacrifices he had made along the way were just as strong as her own.

“It’s been playing on my mind for a while…” His tone became deeper, more solemn as he spoke. “The last few years at least, but seeing Yoongi get married...it made me wonder if I’m worrying about the wrong things. That maybe I’ve been neglecting what’s important to me. Neglecting you...”

Looking at her glass, she realised the wine was finished and placed the empty glass on the bedside cabinet carefully, her hands trembling a little at his confession and its implication. He let out a final, shuddery breath of air, and she knew instinctively that the one-sided conversation was drawing to a close. It came somewhat as a relief. As insightful as he was being, it was frustrating to not be able to talk to him, and she was ready for bed. The day had been long and she would have to get up early tomorrow in order to make her morning phone calls at the office to the seemingly endless list of international clients on her company’s waiting list.

“I guess we’ll talk about it soon…” Namjoon murmured, his own voice sounding tired on the other side. “I love you.” A pause. “I’m sorry.” She could hear the low sound of his breathing for a moment, before the line went dead with a click, the automated recording asking if she wished to delete the message or listen again. Looking at the illuminated screen, she clicked on the hang up dial, saving the message to some unknown folder in the depths of her phone and placing the device carefully beside the empty glass. Her hair was almost dry and she pulled it from the confines of the towel carefully, contemplating as she walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth whether it would disturb the neighbours if she used the blow-drier so late at night. She wondered when Namjoon would get the chance to call again and realised she wasn’t exactly looking forward to the prospect. It was difficult being apart and talking with him only seemed to make it harder. Not for the first time, it hit her that she didn’t have many people she could turn to and wondered whether it was her fault. Was she really so difficult to be around or had she pushed them all away over the years?

Looking in the mirror above the sink at her slightly flushed complexion, she became acutely aware that the low ache of an oncoming migraine had started to nag in the back of her skull and decided she would go straight to bed, with the hope it would be gone by morning.

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook

& Our full masterlist can be found here

You can support us by buying admins a coffee here (if you wish). :)

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wedreamedlove · 4 years

Photo

[Confessing Voice]

"Under the glimmering lights I was only watching your radiance. I'll place everything I wish to tell you in this song."

This is doing a rerun on the ENG server so what better time to post a translation on it than now? Maybe it'll encourage people to get the card. But I'm also curious about what people feel regarding the differences between the versions.

Does the Asian version seem more quiet with charged undertones while the English version is more physical? It reminds me of reviews I've read about different actors' takes on the Phantom of the Opera lol.

NOTE: This is the JP version with CN subbed lines because I needed to keep the literary reference with the song he sings.

[True Love Date]

I was meticulously checking the first broadcast of Miracle Finder for the New Year in the editing room.

It was an important broadcast related to our sponsors and our ratings this year. I looked over the show's contents with especially strict eyes.

Editing Staff: We've edited this 12 times already...

Everyone's line of sight gathered on me. They were waiting for me to give the OK.

MC: I think it's good this time. We're done with this!

Cheers rose. Looking at everyone who worked hard through consecutive all-nighters I felt bad.

MC: Good job everyone. I'll be generous with the project rewards so look forward to that!

Editing Staff: President, the person we need to thank the most is Professor Xu Mo.

I showed a confused expression.

Editing Staff: I secretly contacted Professor Xu Mo when we kept on redoing this. He gave me a lot of advice even though he was busy...

I looked at my phone screen in surprise. Two weeks earlier---

~~~

His face crossed my mind when I was troubled over this current project.

My hand moved on its own to call Xu Mo. It started to become a habit to contact him whenever I had problems.

Xu Mo picked up after several rings.

MC: Xu Mo? Are you busy right now? There's something I'd like to ask you...

Static crackled from the other side of the call. After a while, I heard Xu Mo's voice.

Xu Mo: I'm sorry but lately... I've been busy.

His tone was calm but also distant. It wasn't from exhaustion. I felt a coldness from somewhere.

MC: Don't worry. It wasn't anything serious, so...

Xu Mo: Mm. If it's nothing then I'm going to end the call.

MC: Okay...

Xu Mo didn't say anything further. That was more than enough to make me feel the distance between us.

MC: Wait!

MC: Um... you might be busy, but take care of yourself. Bye bye.

Just when I thought there was rough breathing it suddenly fell quiet. Hearing a monotone beeping, I came back to myself. Xu Mo had already ended the call.

MC: Did he hear my last words...?

Looking at the ended call I was struck by a strange feeling.

Maybe I was thinking too much? His words and speech was cold like never before.

MC: What am I thinking? Xu Mo is just busy...

Although I tried telling myself that I couldn't help but feel uneasy somewhere.

I shook my head and drove away my negative emotions. I relied too much on him. This time I needed to solve things by myself.

Editing Staff: ---President, President? Are the credits good like this?

I returned to the present after being lost in my thoughts. The words "Program Supervisor: Xu Mo" on the credits roll jumped into my eyes.

MC: W-what sort of advice did Professor Xu Mo give? Um... how did you get him to help? When was that?

Editing Staff: It was about 2 days ago. We were editing until 4AM but still had to redo everything... It was when you fell asleep on the sofa.

Editing Staff: After I called Professor Xu Mo, he asked me what happened to you, and I replied you were sleeping on the sofa.

Editing Staff: Then he ended the call saying he was busy. But the next morning an email arrived with detailed advice...

Editing Staff: The strange thing is that he wrote for me not to let you know. But you've found out already, so it's fine, right?

I wondered why Xu Mo helped when he had refused once.

(Why did he say not to let me know? Is there a problem if I know about it...?)

I also didn't understand the reason for Xu Mo's sudden coldness.

For a while there were no replies to my texts and his lectures were on break too. It was like he was distancing himself from me on purpose.

My heart clenched when I thought this.

Editing Staff: President, why don't we invite Professor Xu Mo to our New Year's party this time? He looked like he enjoyed our year-end party a few days ago and he helped us out this time too...

I said this while looking at the New Year's party notice I sent to everyone.

MC: He... seems to be busy, so he might not come.

Editing Staff: But he came to the year-end party even though he was busy, right...?

I hurried out of the editing room as if ending the topic.

On the day of the New Year's party, I came with everyone in the company to a newly opened high-class karaoke box in Lianyu City.

It was an elegant, modern, and spacious reserved room. A white grand piano and guitar were placed in front of the karaoke machine, and beside that was a small stage.

I checked my phone's text messages over and over again. A message from 3 days ago remained there.

Text: Xu Mo, my company's going to have a New Year's party at Petrichor 3 days later. If you'd like, why don't you come?

Text: You looked like you enjoyed singing at the year-end party a while ago, so I thought I'd invite you this time too. But if you're busy then please don't hesitate to refuse.

Even though the message was definitely sent there was no response. I sighed with worry and disappointment.

Yue Yue: President, why have you been staring constantly at your phone? Work is done for today!

Yue Yue quickly stole my phone, randomly touching the screen, and then placed it in front of herself.

MC: Hey, my phone...

I stretched out my hand but Yue Yue pushed a set of cards to me.

Yue Yue: You don't sing, right? Then let's play cards!

The company members around us gathered in interest. I had no choice but to pass the time playing cards with everyone.

Xu Mo's house---

The phone rang and a message arrived. It was from [NAME].

Xu Mo hesitated slightly and then picked up the phone. However, the message was just numbers and letters and he didn't understand what she wrote.

What was this? Xu Mo's expression became severe.

He searched on the internet and tried various methods but he couldn't decipher it. He felt a sense of frustration.

He wondered why she had sent this message.

Was she angry at being treated coldly? Or was it a demand for a reply to her New Year's party invitation...?

Xu Mo dialed her phone from his landline. However, only an automated voice saying "This phone has been turned off" came.

Xu Mo: What is wrong with me?

Xu Mo: When did I start caring about these conventions?

For a while, Xu Mo stared at the message which came from the girl 3 days ago. It was written with her usual detailed and kind words.

At the beginning, his objective was just to get close to her. But the closer he got the more he was drawn to her for some reason.

Xu Mo: Didn't I already decide to leave her life?

Why did he help her again even though he refused her once? Why was his heart unsettled from this incomprehensible message?

The intense pain in Xu Mo's heart insistently told him the reason. That over there was an answer he couldn't escape even if he desperately averted his eyes.

The moment the door to the karaoke room opened Xu Mo faintly understood the answer.

That he couldn't leave her.

~~~

MC: Xu Mo! You came?

Her clear eyes widened roundly and she looked at him. The person reflected in those eyes was him alone.

Xu Mo suddenly placed a hand on his chest. A thin thread was tightly squeezing his heart.

He sighed.

Forget it, he would be foolish once more with this foolish girl.

Xu Mo entered the room and sat beside her naturally.

MC: Weren't you busy?

MC: Erm, nevermind. You didn't reply so I didn't think you'd come.

Even under the dim lights he could clearly see her emotions.

There was joy and doubt.

He swallowed back the words he was about to say and softly stroked her hair.

Xu Mo: Sorry. I couldn't get through to your phone so I came here.

MC: You couldn't get through?

She looked down and searched the top of the sofa before showing him the phone, biting her lip awkwardly.

MC: I accidentally turned it off...

Xu Mo smiled lightly with some exasperation. Light and shadow were jumbled together in his eyes.

Xu Mo: Silly.

She gave a pure laugh and then, covering her face, her eyes darted around.

MC: Were you worried about me?

Xu Mo: Yes.

Xu Mo approached her and nodded without hesitation.

Yue Yue: Huh? It's Professor Xu Mo? President, you should have told us if the professor was coming.

MC: Uh... that's because...

Xu Mo: I heard everyone was having a New Year's party so I came without an invitation. I'm not interrupting, am I?

Yue Yue: No way. I was moved when I heard you singing at the year-end party. Everyone wants to hear it again!

Yue Yue said this and then ran back to the stage again to sing enthusiastically with Anna.

Xu Mo: Why aren't you singing together with them?

MC: Huh? I... don't sing much.

Xu Mo: I know. But I'd like to hear it.

My face turned red at Xu Mo's unexpected words.

MC: You're planning on teasing me again, aren't you...

The corners of Xu Mo's lips rose and then he sighed.

Xu Mo: It's true I was worried about you. It's also true that I want to hear you sing.

Xu Mo: Everything is true.

His casual words resounded in my heart more than any other noise in the room.

Yue Yue started singing a sad love song with Anna who was still on the stage.

Anna: Did you really throw away those glittering days...

Yue Yue: I had many dreams in those long nights. Don't remember me. One day you will also know pain...

Xu Mo looked at the words showing on the screen. The flickering light was reflected in his eyes.

The lively karaoke party on top of the stage repeated and, below the stage, everyone else amused themselves with games.

Seeing that Xu Mo had come everyone persistently invited him to join their game.

Gu Meng: Next is the improved version of Spin the Bottle! Whoever this beer bottle points to has to answer everyone's question. If they can't answer with the truth then as penalty they need to drink all this alcohol!

When Gu Meng clapped her hands the editing staff carried over a tray with five cups of whiskey.

Colleagues: This is overdoing it!

Looking at the lined up drinks, I became worried. I would get drunk from just one cup, so if I drank them all I might collapse.

That reminded me, I hadn't seen Xu Mo drink before. I looked at him inquisitively.

Xu Mo nodded and patted the back of my hand.

The beer bottle began to spin and then pointed at Gu Meng.

Yue Yue: Do you have someone you like?

Yue Yue, who had joined the circle at one point, began the questions. At that first question... everyone's eyes gathered on Gu Meng.

Gu Meng glared lightly at Yue Yue and then reluctantly nodded.

Cheers rose. Gu Meng spun the bottle as if trying to avenge herself. This time the bottle pointed at Xu Mo and stopped.

Yue Yue: Professor Xu Mo, is there someone you like in this room?

Gu Meng: How about trying another question?

Yue Yue: That's why I said "in this room"!

Xu Mo smiled and nodded decisively.

Xu Mo: There is.

That answer was so surprisingly clear that the area became quiet. After that cheers exploded and Gu Meng whistled.

My heart was already racing the second Yue Yue asked that question.

The person Xu Mo liked was in this room... My ears turned red and my mind went blank.

I unconsciously brought my hand back but Xu Mo grabbed it firmly.

Xu Mo: Why is your face red?

MC: Erm, uh... it's because of the drinks!

Xu Mo: But... it doesn't seem like you've drank anything yet.

MC: Umm, it's because it's hot then?

Looking at me as my voice gradually became smaller, Xu Mo chuckled beside my ear.

Yue Yue: Okay, next is Professor Xu Mo again!

The beer bottle pointed at Xu Mo again and stopped. This time Gu Meng restrained Yue Yue and asked a question.

Gu Meng: Who is the person you said you liked?

Everyone held their breath and stared at Xu Mo.

My heart wouldn't stop pounding. I looked down and reflexively pulled back the hand that was held by Xu Mo.

Xu Mo smiled, as if he understood something, and drained the drinks one after another.

Everyone was a bit disappointed and began to spin the bottle again.

I secretly glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked drunk and even his ears were red.

MC: Xu Mo, are you okay?

He nodded his head and brought his lips to my ear. His hot breath and the smell of alcohol drifted around me and it felt ticklish.

Xu Mo: I'm fine, although... you still owe me an answer.

MC: I...

I was at a loss for an answer and, at last after panicking, I fell silent. I just concentrated on touching my hair and hiding my discomposure.

Maybe it was because of the drinks or maybe the atmosphere of the place, but Xu Mo became talkative and his eyes were hazy.

Yue Yue: It's finally the president's turn!

Yue Yue and Gu Meng exchanged looks and then came up to me together.

Gu Meng: Who's the person important to you? Please be specific.

MC: How come I'm the only one who has to be "specific"?

Yue Yue: You have to keep to the rules. It's useless to try and run!

The person most important to me--- I looked at Xu Mo shyly and then breathed in deeply.

MC: That person showed me a world I didn't know about until now.

MC: He's warm but not oppressive. He's calm but not melancholic. He's a person that's like a clear sky and a deep fog.

MC: He also notices the slightest change in my feelings and taught me the laws of this world.

MC: Whenever I'm lost he leads me forward with a gentleness that surrounds me.

I sunk into my memories and continued to talk by myself, not noticing how beside me Xu Mo placed his glass down, furrowed his brows, and bit his lip...

MC: He is... a very, very important person to me.

Finished talking about my heart, I gave a deep sigh.

Colleague A: For the president to talk so passionately means that "man" isn't here, right? If he was here, then you wouldn't say this, huh~.

Yue Yue: I wanna know who it is!

MC: Hey now! Enough with the chatter, let's move on...

Everyone unanimously guessed at the "man" I talked about. Xu Mo remained silent and raised his glass, taking a mouthful of his drink.

Despite the game resuming Xu Mo seemed strange somewhere. It was like his cheer up to now had disappeared.

MC: Maybe he's drunk? He drank a lot earlier...

MC: I've never seen him drunk. I'm sure it'd be cute.

I stood in front of the sink, thinking about how he'd look drunk, and giggled.

~~~

The moment I stepped out into the hall to return to the room my arm was suddenly grabbed by someone. I was held against a sturdy chest with a force I couldn't fight against.

I was dumbfounded. The scent of summer grass and the smell of faint alcohol surrounded me.

When I came back to myself I was held tightly to Xu Mo. My back was against the wall and one of my arms was caught by him.

MC: Xu Mo...

My heart raced and I didn't know what to do.

Xu Mo looked at me with empty eyes.

Xu Mo: Is that person so important to you?

MC: Huh?

Xu Mo: Tell me. Who is that person?

Xu Mo suddenly came close, speaking in a censuring tone.

(Hold on. Didn't he hear me talk? Or... did he misunderstand?)

I looked up at Xu Mo. Complicated emotions that seemed about to overflow even now were being restrained desperately in his eyes.

MC: You've got it wrong...

Xu Mo: Tell me...

Xu Mo came even closer. The scorching heat of his presence enveloped my surroundings.

It was the first time I saw him with such a scary look. It was so surprising I had no idea what to do. I stared into his eyes and said this.

MC: It's you.

MC: ... The "man" I was talking about is you, Xu Mo. You're my important person.

Xu Mo's eyes became dazed for a second. The smell of alcohol disappeared.

MC: I was talking about you. But... it looks like I caused a misunderstanding...

Xu Mo regained his calm and quietly released my arm.

Xu Mo: I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?

MC: A little...

Xu Mo looked down and rubbed gently at my arm. I couldn't see his expression but his warmth reached up to my ears.

When we returned to the room everyone was still excited. My heart raced just from remembering what happened earlier.

Pressing on my chest, I told myself to "calm down". Then, so that he wouldn't drink any more alcohol, I secretly pulled his glass in front of me.

Yue Yue: President, you never sing, right? How about singing 1 song today at least?

Yue Yue held out the mic to me.

MC: Erm! I'll pass...

I looked at Xu Mo and nervously declined.

It wasn't that I was bad at singing. It was just that I wasn't prepared to sing in front of Xu Mo.

Yue Yue: If the president won't sing then I'll have Professor Xu Mo sing!

Hearing that, everyone became even more enthusiastic.

Xu Mo, who was looking at me, nodded. I also wanted to hear him sing.

He gave a soft smile and, holding a glass, went to the stage.

It was at that time that I finally noticed him wearing a black turtleneck and dark purple scarf.

The speckled lights shone on him and how he had a hand casually placed in his pocket. A languid and alluring atmosphere was brought out.

Xu Mo set his glass down. Then, after thinking a little, he came to me and nonchalantly took my hand and returned directly to the stage again.

He wasn't using a strong force, but there was a sense of pressure that brooked no refusal.

Before I knew it, he slotted his body against mine and placed his chin on my shoulder. The aroma of the alcohol mixed with a refreshing fragrance which was like grasslands after the rains stopped.

Xu Mo: What would you like to sing?

MC: ... Do I have to sing?

Xu Mo: I want to hear you sing.

MC: You won't be shocked after hearing my singing, right?

I raised my head and said this, pursing my lips.

Xu Mo: Then... why don't we try it?

His mouth came close to my ear and he said this in a low voice. I nodded in a dazed manner with a mind gone hazy from the alcohol.

Xu Mo operated the karaoke machine and a mellow melody rang out.

His palm covered my hand. It was a large hand which seemed to cover my hand and the mic together.

Something like a weak current seemed to run through my entire body from his dry palm...

His eyes stared straight at me... straight into the depths of my heart.

Something like a decision was reflected in those eyes.

Xu Mo: When I fall in love, it will be forever.

It was a low enrapturing voice, like a late autumn wind or the swelling night ocean. He sang with his heart in it.

That voice knocked on the door to my heart.

Memories came into my mind one after another.

The first time we met and his beautiful face under a dazzling light. The time we met in a movie theatre at midnight. That golden-colored picnic. That rainbow after the rain lifted...

All those memories rode on that singing voice and slowly flowed throughout the sparkling room.

MC: And the moment---

MC: I can feel that you feel that way too---

As we sang we came even closer together and our hands continued to remain touching.

From the beginning until the end, Xu Mo looked at me with a constant smile and eyes that held expectation.

Xu Mo: It turns out a song can be this short.

The song ended and we got off the stage.

MC: Xu Mo, you really do sing well!

Xu Mo's lips curved and he said this with mischievous eyes.

Xu Mo: Oh? Can I believe... the words of a little liar?

MC: Huh, what do you mean?

Xu Mo: I was actually looking forward to your shocking singing.

I remembered how I said earlier "You won't be shocked after hearing my singing, right?" and my face turned red.

MC: Who asked you to believe in that...

Xu Mo: Then what else have you tricked me on?

Xu Mo flicked my forehead with a finger.

MC: Um... before I said you didn't have to come if you were busy, but to be honest I really wanted you to come.

I looked at Xu Mo and, while thinking this and that, spoke awkwardly.

Xu Mo was surprised. Flickering light surged up violently in his eyes and I saw him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing.

MC: What's wrong?

He gave a long sigh and then spoke in a voice even lower than earlier.

Xu Mo: I won't do that anymore.

He looked apologetically at me.

Xu Mo: Why won't you ask if I've ever tricked you?

I blinked.

MC: Um... of course I know that you've tricked me.

Xu Mo: For example?

MC: You were clearly drunk earlier even though you said you weren't drunk. Even more, you misunderstood me...

Looking at her grumble, Xu Mo was a bit surprised and he laughed quietly. Then he drew in the glass beside his hand and drank a mouthful.

His mind was hazy. Her smile and the spotted lights swayed in front of his eyes.

He thought about how he was surely drunk. But that was fine. Being drunk was better.

The music could continue, the drinks could continue.

That way he could tell himself this. That he was taken in by this atmosphere and the alcohol. And that's what these gentle feelings and hesitation resulted from.

Xu Mo raised his glass and drained it all at once.

~~~

DATE DIARY

Everyone worked really hard for the first show of the new year. Finally, after it took shape, I learned that Xu Mo helped. I thought he had refused to though... Why?

On that day, if I remember correctly, I asked for Xu Mo's help but he refused me coldly. Why did he help me again at the critical moment? I don't really understand Xu Mo.

I thought Xu Mo wouldn't come to the New Year's party but he came on the day of. He said he became worried because I didn't answer my phone. During a game of Spin the Bottle, Xu Mo confessed for the first time that he had a person he liked.

I also talked about the person most important to me. But, because Xu Mo was drunk, he seemed to misunderstand that. I'm someone who rarely sings in front of others but for some reason I ended up in a duet with Xu Mo. There was joy in his eyes.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mlqc xu mo #mlqc lucien #my translations

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