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asumofwords · 1 year

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Hello angels! Sorry for the late update for this one, got lost in the sauce of writing the Til Death Do Us Part oneshot. Haha anyway, here is the new chapter, I hope you enjoy! <3

Chapter 7: Hard truths

It was the tension that was the most unbearable part of it all. The feeling of words that had been left unspoken, apologies not voiced aloud, grievances that were left to fester in the quiet of the apartment after that fateful night.

When you went to work the next day, your eyes had been puffy from crying, and Jasper had asked you on multiple occasions what was wrong. You had told him it was your allergies, dust in the office irritating your eyes, but you could tell by just the way he had looked at you that he didn’t believe you.

You felt entirely defeated by it all.

Exhausted by it.

Tiptoeing in your own home, walking on eggshells, hiding in your room, not making a peep to avoid the cold glares of Aemond. And he had done much the same, staying out late, or going straight to his room when he got home.

And by the time the time the weekend had rolled in, you had had enough of sulking and decided to reply to Cregan’s invitation with a very enthusiastic yes.

Cregan told you that the boys would all be there, even Jacaerys and Lucerys, who were yet to head to the Keep to be with their family, the weekend being a final hurrah before the storm that waited for them back in their old home.

When you woke that morning, excited that the weekend was finally here and that you had something to look forward to in the evening, you decided you were going to do a quick clean of the apartment, chucking on some noise cancelling headphones and making your way to the kitchen.

You made swift work of it, and before long, you were washing your hair and getting ready for the night. Cregan had texted you excitedly saying the boys were keen to see you, and had asked if you wanted to go to his first.

You threw on an outfit that was short and sleek, hugging your curves perfectly and revealing ample cleavage. Paired with a bit of a smokey eye and your hair in a style you favoured, you looked at yourself in the mirror and smirked.

You looked hot.

Really hot.

When you came out of your room, Aemond was on the couch, watching as you ordered your Uber to take you straight to Cregan’s. You didn’t spare him a single glance, but you knew he was looking at you. You could feel the heat of his gaze roaming over your body.

Leaving without a goodbye, you hopped straight into your Uber and headed to Cregan’s, greeted by the hulking figure at the door, with loud chattering behind him and music playing.

“Look at you.” Cregan smirked as you gave him a little spin.

“Look at me.” You winked, jumping into his arms for a massive hug, the large man picking you off the ground with a shift of his back as you squealed, before placing you back down.

“The boys are keen to see you.”

You smiled, following him down the hall to the lounge room where Cregan’s friends all sat on various couches and chairs.

Two familiar faces came into view, Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon.

Both brown haired boys gazes fell on you, wide smiles spreading on their cheeks. Jacaerys jumped up with a cry of your name before rushing towards you, pulling you into a soft hug, followed by his younger brother Lucerys, who had grown a foot since the last time you saw him. Lost were his cherubic cheeks, and in their place, cheekbones that sat high on his face like his mother.

“It's been so long!” You whined, looking at Luc who now stood taller than you, “Fuck you’ve grown. What are they feeding you on Dragonstone?”

Lucerys blushed, looking away before a smirk pulled at his lips, “Not enough. You haven’t grown a bit.”

“I stopped growing a long time ago, you ass.” You chuckled.

You didn’t get to see Jacaerys and Lucerys often, having met them a few times through Cregan, and the others through Helaena. At one point you had classes with the older brother, and he had always been nothing but kind and respectful towards you.

Despite not seeing them as often as you wished, you still considered them good friends.

Scanning the rest of the room, you spotted the one and only Kermit Tully, seated beside his brother Elmo Tully. After Daeron's confession to you on the phone the other day, you couldn’t even look at Kermit without having burning questions. You put them in the back of your mind to ask later.

Cerwyn, Cregan’s best friend who was as large and as broad as Stark was, stood by the window smoking a joint, giving you a small wave and a smile from across the room.

“Where are we going first?” You asked, being handed your favourite drink from Cregan as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“We should go to the Red Kraken.” Jace suggested, sitting back down in his seat to sip on his beer.

Cerwyn chuckled, “You keen to see Dalton again?” He asked you, eyebrow raised.

Dalton Greyjoy, owner of the Red Kraken, was a man a few years older than Cregan. The last time you had went to his venue with the Stark, he had suggested the three of you go back to his when he clocked off. It was brazen and daring, but you couldn’t deny the man was attractive. He had dark hair and dark brown eyes that were almost black.

Dalton stood taller than Cregan, if you could believe it, and was often found at one of the local boxing rings for fun.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say I didn’t want to see him again.” You cheeked, Jacaerys chuckling on the couch as he explained the situation to a very confused Luc, the younger boys cheeks going a bright red.

“Hey!” Cregan chastised you, pinching your side.

“What? He’s handsome and ruggish. A bit more dark and mysterious than you are.”

“No mystery with that one.” Kermit piped up from his seat, taking a cheeky sip of his drink, eyes watching you over the rim of the can, “If you want to see his cock, just ask.”

“Kermy!”

“What?”

Cregan burst into laughter beside you and all followed.

You all finished your drinks and found your way into the city, heading straight for the Red Kraken.

It was a dingy bar, more male populated than not, but it had a fun feel to it.

Grungy and dirty, it had mismatching couches and tables, and a great smoking area out the back. On Fridays they had sport trivia nights which Cregan had once taken you to.

You lost.

You all sat down and drank and laughed, and you felt the tension from the week slough off your back like snow in spring.

It was good to be with friends like them, and you had only wished that the girls were there to join you all.

The night flew by, and your sides were in stitches from laughing so much. Dalton had come over to speak to you all at one point whilst the bar was slow, and you had felt his gaze lower to your breasts on more than one occasion. When he left, you had whispered into Cregan's ear about taking him up on his offer, which had earnt you a scandalised look.

It wasn't a no though.

“If you don’t want Dalton, I’d be happy to replace him.” Cerwyn smirked.

Cregan declared that he owed the entire table a round for that comment, and Cerwyn had done as ordered without apology or regret, a teasing 'anything for you, love' flowing from his lips.

As the night moved on, you all decided to move to the next venue, and it was your good idea to take them all to the bar that Sara had taken you to. All were in favour, and so you made your way down to the silk lanes, Lucerys’ bright brown eyes eyeing the doors of the strip clubs excitedly.

“Is that it?” Elmo sighed, looking at the busted wall and green door entrance.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Jacaerys stepped into the venue immediately, security guard nodding at him as he entered, not bothering to check his ID. Your brows furrowed as you looked up at Cregan, who just shrugged down at you.

As you walked down the stairs to enter the bar you caught up to Jace, who looked like he was at home.

“Have you been here before?” You asked, walking inside, seeing the bar staff nod at him, big grins on their cheeks.

“Daemon owns the joint with my mum.” Jacaerys told you, and you stilled.

This was Daemon and Rhaenyra’s bar.

“What? I didn’t even know that.” You whispered in a hushed tone, still loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Pretty low key, just another investment. They said they’ll hand it over to me eventually.”

“What the fuck?! Jace, that’s amazing!” You grinned, hugging him aggressively around his neck as you stood at the bar, waiting to be served.

Cregan moved behind you, hand winding around your waist as he whispered into your ear.

“Don’t freak out.”

You let go of Jace and turned to look back at him, “What? Wh-“

There, at the end of the bar, sat a familiar head of silver hair.

And his eye was on you.

You snapped your head away, uttering a quick ‘fuck’ beneath your breath.

Lucerys, following your eye line shifted uncomfortably, “Jace, Aemond’s here.” He whispered to his older brother, who turned to face his uncle, giving him a curt smile and nod before looking back to staff in front of him.

“He’s fine. Leave him be.”

It was awkward.

This was supposed to be your new place to get away from him, and now Aemond was here? And what was worse, you were here with people you knew he didn’t get along with. And the glare he directed towards you was apparent.

Cregan led you to go sit down at a booth at the encouragement of Jace who said the drinks were on him for the rest for the night, though in reality you knew it was more like on his parents, but you didn’t argue. Free drinks are free drinks, and you needed one now more than ever.

“Are you okay?” Cregan spoke lowly, hand holding yours on the table.

You swallowed, “I’m okay. It's just awkward.”

“He still giving you shit?”

“It's a long story, and one I’ll tell you later.”

Cregan pressed a kiss to the side of your head, your eyes immediately lifting to see Aemond watching you. The other boys came to join you at the booth, Cerwyn sliding in next to you, with Luc and the Tully brothers opposite. Jacaerys made his way over to his uncle, polite smile on his lips.

You watched as Jace and Aemond shared what looked to be a somewhat tense and awkward conversation, though completely civil. Aemond seemed to tolerate his nephew barely just, and Jacaerys had slapped a friendly hand on his uncles shoulder as he made his way back to you, earning the brown haired man a frown from a head of silver.

“I think we should leave.” Luc whispered, shoulders hunched as he curled in on himself.

Jace slid in next to him, “Don’t let him intimidate you.” He put a gentle hand on Luc’s shoulder, similar to how he had with Aemond, and you got the impression that Jacaerys being the eldest, was used to being the mediator, “Let's have a drink, enjoy each others company and have a good night.”

The staff brought over your drinks, sitting them in front of you, and you clinked all your glasses together messily in a toast, feeling Cregan whisper into your ear as you took a sip.

“Relax your shoulders." You did as you were told, not having realised how tense you were, "Don’t let him ruin your night. I’m here, the boys are here, and if at any point you want to leave, we will leave. Okay?”

You nodded.

No way in Hell were you letting him sour your mood again.

You all stayed at the bar, round after round of drinks being dumped on your table without any of you having to get up or order. You were messy and loud, but above all, happy.

You felt Aemond’s gaze on you for almost the entirety of the night, and caught his eye on multiple occasions, tension crackling in the air between you. But after your third cocktail, the heat of the drinks overpowered the heat of his gaze.

Eventually, Aemond stood from where he sat at the bar, your eyes immediately finding him and watching as he left, walking past your booth as he let his eye stray on Cregan’s hand that was wrapped over your shoulder. He continued on his path, nose held high as he disappeared up the steps.

Lucerys sighed, obviously having felt some sort of tension the entire time, “What the fuck was that?”

You groaned, burying your face into your hands.

“Aren’t you living with him?” Kermit asked, and all eyes immediately landed on you.

“What?” Jacaerys’ eyes went wide, “Since when do you live with my uncle? What happened to Helaena?”

“Hel is at the Keep, and Aemond needed a place to stay, so he’s in her room.”

“Gods help you.” Elmo falsely prayed, lifting his drink up in a mock toast.

Cerwyn and Cregan shared a look over the top of your head, and then with Jacaerys, sharing some sort of unspoken conversation. The only people confused at the table, were you, Luc and the Tully brothers.

“What?”

Cregan shrugged.

You felt that there was something unsaid, but you opted to leave it, sparking up a conversation with Kermit, asking pointedly about his love life, but not mentioning Daeron. The red headed man narrowed his eyes at you, wide smile pulling on his lips, before he started to go into great detail about someone he had fucked recently, with a full and lengthy description of their cock.

The two of you the only people at the table knowing who it was.

The night continued for a while, but you couldn’t help but feel the lingering guilt and upset that Aemond had triggered inside of you. Cregan, sensing the shift in your mood, decided to call it a night, and offered to take you home.

You said farewell to all the boys, and made them swear to do this more often, giving Lucerys a particularly tight hug, feeling the tension in the youngest boys shoulders.

When you and Cregan got back to the apartment, the lights were off, and the flat was bathed in darkness. You stumbled into the apartment giggling, shushing the tall man behind you who clunked loudly on the floor with each step.

“Shhh!” You hushed him, laughter bubbling up your throat.

“Come on, bunny.” Cregan laughed quietly, steering you straight to the kitchen, filling up a glass of water for you to drink.

You scrunched your nose at him, knowing you were drunk, but not wanting to sober up yet.

“Drink it all, Y/n. You need to sober up.”

“You need t-to sober up.” You quipped back, jumping up on the cabinets, your shoes hitting the doors loudly by accident.

“Shhh!” You hushed your own feet, grabbing the water and drinking it slowly, keeping your eyes on Cregan the entire time, who watched you in entertained exacerbation.

You placed the empty glass of water beside you, which Cregan filled to the top again.

“Cregaaan.” You purred, the Northerner lifting a brow at you, “Can you roll me a cigarette, please.” You pouted at him, trying to give him your best doe eyes.

Cregan shook his head, grabbing your small handbag to pull out your cigarettes, rolling you one neatly as he moved to open the window. You shimmied closer to the ledge, putting the cigarette to your lips as you lit it.

Blowing a ring of smoke out the window, you offered Cregan a drag, who took the smoke from your hands delicately.

“I can't believe Cerwyn offered to join us.” You guffawed, cheeks heating in both embarrassment and excitement.

Cregan blew the smoke out the window, handing the cigarette back to you, “I can. Cerwyn thinks you’re cute. Plus he knows all about our little agreement.” You giggled loudly, inhaling the sharp smoke into your lungs, “Why? Are you thinking about saying yes?”

You blushed, crossing your legs tightly, heat settling in your core, “I dunno. Cerwyn is cute.”

“He is.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Cregan Stark. Tell me more right now.”

Cregan took the smoke from your fingers bringing it to his lips as he smirked down at you, “I mean, I haven’t not thought about it. He's my best mate and I live with him. I've heard what goes on behind his closed doors. Besides, you beneath both of us, begging, sq-“

“Can you two be fucking quiet?”

Both of your heads snapped to a disgruntled Aemond Targaryen, who stood in the lounge room, hands by his sides in fists. He was in those grey sweatpants again, hanging low on his hips with no shirt on, hair on his head tangled and messed.

“I’m s-“ You began.

“-It’s three in the fucking morning. Have some respect.”

You stiffened, feeling anger begin to bloom in your chest, you opened your mouth to argue, to snap back at him, but Cregan stepped in front of you, blocking you from the other mans view.

“No problem, man. We'll be quieter.” Cregan’s voice was deep, stern, clipped, and left no room for argument. Though it was polite, it was rough, like the cold in the North, biting and sharp. A true Northerner through and through.

Cregan was silently hitting back without even doing it.

Aemond’s lips pursed into a hard line, turning on his heel to stomp back to his room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Cregan spun around to look at you, eyebrows lifted as he whistled lowly, pulling the smoke up to his lips to take a long drag.

“What the fuck?” You hissed quietly, “What is his problem?”

Cregan sighed, “It is 3am, bunny. I’m sure he just wants to sleep. It would have been a weird night for him.”

You frowned, annoyed that Cregan was acting so cool about Aemond’s outburst, “Why aren’t you angry?” You snatched the smoke from him, taking a final drag before you put it out on the brickwork outside.

"I'm not not angry."

You huffed in annoyance.

Cregan stepped forward, unhooking your legs to stand between them as his large hands skated up the outside of your thighs. He bent his head to look at you, your eyes refusing to meet his.

“Y/n." Cregan coaxed you softly.

You slowly turned your head to look at him, staring into his icy grey eyes.

“Do you like him?”

“What? No!” Immediately feeling defensive.

Cregan hushed you, shaking his head kindly, “It’s okay if you do. You’re not in trouble.”

You blanched, not sure of how to speak, words getting caught in the back of your throat.

Cregan stroked your cheek softly, soft smile on his lips, “Hey, this is casual, remember? Regardless of if we fuck or not, you’re still my friend, and I care about you and want you to be happy.”

Your heart pulled painfully, lips dropping down into a frown.

Cregan’s chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re so sweet, Creg. What the fuck.”

Both hands rubbed warmly up and down your thighs in comfort, “You’re fluffing me up now.”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand. Why don’t I like you instead?”

Cregan gave you a sad smile and kissed the tip of your nose, “I used to ask myself the same question. But now I see it. We just don’t gel like that." He shrugged, and your chest pulled, "And honestly? I'm glad, because at the end of the day, no matter what happens between us, I know I'll still be able to call you mine in some way or another. Whether that be as my friend or my lover.”

You felt tears begin to build in your eyes, the betrayal of the prickling in the corners, causing your stomach turn, “I don’t get it. Why do I feel this way? He’s been nothing but horrible to me.”

“You’ve fucked him haven’t you?”

“No.” You said quietly.

His eyes roamed your face, knowing you far too well, “You've done something else.” Cregan guessed, watching the way your face fell further.

His back suddenly straightened, “Did he hurt you?”

“No! No, Gods no. Nothing like that.”

The Stark relaxed slightly, but you could still tell he was on guard.

“Does Helaena know?”

You looked away, fingers pulling at the threads of material on your thigh, “No. I’m scared. She’s my best friend, Cregan, and I feel like I’ve totally broken her trust and gone behind her back. She has so much going on right now, I just don’t know how I’m even supposed to broach that conversation. Like what do I do? ‘Hey Hel, your brother ate my pussy like a starved man and then immediately treated me like shit after.’”

“What did he do?”

You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter. He’s been nothing but a dick to me. It's not going to happen again.” You looked down into your lap, wringing your hands together as the feeling of being used washed over you again.

“If I know you, and I think I do, I can tell that it will happen again just by looking at you both.”

You scoffed, looking up at him in irritation.

“No, listen. There's clearly something going on between you two. Anyone with two eyes could see that. Maybe that's why he's not.”

“There's nothing-“

“-Cerwyn picked up on it immediately. Even Jace could see it.”

Oh.

Cregan's thumbs smoothed the skin of your thighs, the warmth of his body soaking into yours, “So what happened? Start from the beginning.”

And so you did, you started from the beginning, telling Cregan about the day he moved in, to your first kiss in the kitchen, all the way to the other night and how he had left you and was horrible right after a scene.

You watched as Cregan’s brows had become drawn at certain points in justifiable anger, the man always having been very protective over you, and at other times he gave you a scathing look, telling you that you had gone too far as well.

“So yeah, we haven’t spoken since, and I don’t think I want to. I just can’t see how he can be so cold to me when I've been nothing but kind to him.”

Cregan leant against the window, rolling the both of you another cigarette, trapping the smoke in his lips as he bent down to take off your shoes off as you began to swing your legs in agitation.

“He's a douchebag for sure," Cregan agreed, standing to his full height again, "And I really don’t see what you see in him.”

“See?? I think it's all hormonal or something. I don’t know. Ugh. But when he is nice, he is so lovely. And when he smiles it's this-”

You stopped yourself.

Oh gods.

You were deeper than you thought.

Why did you have a crush on this man???

Cregan smirked at you and you swatted him roughly, taking the smoke from between his lips to light it, taking a long and hard drag, feeling the smoke swirl down your throat thickly.

“I don’t know much about the man,” Cregan began, “But from what Jace and Luc have told me, I know he’s been through a lot. He didn’t get an easy run as a kid-“

“-It's not an excuse to be a dick.”

“-No its not an excuse, but it is an explanation. I know his dad wasn’t really there, and his mum was real tough on him. It didn’t help that everyone sided with Luc after the accident.“

“The accident? What do you mean?”

Cregan took a steady breath, taking the cigarette from you to take a sharp inhale, speaking as he exhaled, “Luc took his eye.”

“What?!” Your heart fell.

Cregan held up his hands, “No, not like that. It was an accident. Lucerys has never forgiven himself for it, hangs over the poor kids head like a storm. Aemond was ten, and Luc would have only been like five or six? They were both kids, and they were play fighting with wooden swords, some knights and dragon game they used to all play, but Lucerys had swung too high and too fast for Aemond to block it.”

Your stomach turned, and a chill ran through you, “Oh my gods.”

Cregan looked down sadly, shifting on his feet, “Yeah, its rough. Fucking horrible what happened, and then Alicent wanted to sue Lucerys for grievous bodily harm.”

“What the fuck? But he was just a kid? They were both kids! It was an accident!”

“I know right? Alicent started a fight right in front of Aemond at the hospital with Rhaenyra, got physical, everyone started screaming at each other when they all should have been comforting the poor kid who lost his damn eye. The family has been a mess ever since.”

It all made sense now.

The tension.

The disdain.

The law firm.

All of it.

Cregan handed you the smoke and also held the second glass of water to you, waiting for you to drink half of it, “I’m not telling you this to excuse his behaviour or make you pity him. I'm just trying to give you some perspective as to why he is the way he is. He’s had it rough, and from the sound of it, he doesn’t know how to open up or feel safe. The people that were supposed to protect him failed him, and I think that it really did change the way he is.”

You felt guilt.

Guilt for not knowing. Guilt for now knowing. Guilt for not being more understanding. But at the same time, you were not really at fault.

How were you to know?

“Fuck. I feel terrible.” You sighed.

“Don’t be. He was an ass to you. No excuses there.”

“I guess. I did rub his ex in his face.”

Cregan sucked in a hiss, “Poor form.”

You buried your face in your hands, “I know. But he just left me, straight after giving me one of the best orgasms of my life. It was horrible, Creg.”

“Best orgasm?” Cregan joked, and you sighed.

“Shut up. It was horrible. I've never felt so used before. It reminded me so much of Jason, I think it really triggered me. I cried myself to sleep after.”

Cregan stepped back between your legs, pulling you into a tight bear hug, in away that he always did, tucking your head beneath his chin and cradling you to his chest. You instantly felt safe, reassured, and loved.

And it was always how you felt around him.

“You’ll get through this, bunn.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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reriart · 1 month

Note

RE: Your ask I saw a little it ago.

So you know all those BG3 fics where someone’s with a Teifling or Dragonborn and the POV character is really into their partners tail? What if Astarion was curious about what his partners tail was capable of?

Happy Friday!

A different kind of reading

Hi! Thanks for this request. I really like the prompt. It took me several days to decide whether to use a tiefling or a dragonborn (I had never used the latter, so I created one on BG3 to study it a bit). In the end, considering the fact that the dragonborn has many scales, and the nature of fanfiction, I preferred to proceed with a tiefling! I wanted to write Astarion in first person but he is a very difficult character to play, so I preferred a third person. I hope you like it, anon! ;)

As always, please remember that English is not my native language!

Tags: 18+ smut, MDNI, gn!Reader (using they/them), tailfucking, tailjob, Tav is a tiefling that uses magic, kink, sex, mention of Astarion’s past, a hint of angst because why not (trauma + healing at his own times), Tav is insecure about their appearance. Also, a tiny Karlach x Dammon. Divider by @anitalenia. You can read the fic also on AO3.

‘So that's how it works...’ Astarion commented, a sly smile on his face, as he flipped through some old, yellowed pages. ‘Never judge a book by its cover.’

Hard as a Rock and Ninety-Nine Other Spells to Use Under the Sheets is already a questionable enough title; the red linen cover with a big phallic rock on it with fake, cheap gold details is even worse.

Yet, Astarion had been attracted to that book a little earlier in the evening, among the various texts available in Dammon's house (who would have thought the shy tiefling would be so interested in such topics? ), who had offered a hot drink to the whole group after meeting them in Baldur's Gate (probably in the vain hope of flirting with Karlach... who drank the boiling tea, describing it as ‘refreshing’). Just as the two were flirting, the elf had sneaked around the house, noticing piles upon piles of books. Obviously intrigued by the common theme, he had started leafing through some of them only to be interrupted by Tav.

‘You really read a shit ton of books,’ they had commented, peeping over the vampire's shoulder, causing him to jump on the spot and snap the tome shut. ‘Our blacksmith friend has obscene tastes, truly. Who would have thought such a depraved man!’ had been Astarion's reply, in an irreverent tone... before shoving the said volume under his leather jacket, only to read it in his own tent shortly after sunset to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

Astarion had always spoken freely about sex... at least with strangers, to whom he showed his libertine façade. But with Tav things were distinctly different, ever since he had confessed that he had really fallen in love with them. The tiefling had awakened pure, honest feelings in him, but also anxiety, fear. Fear of making things too fast, fear of not being enough, fear of not being himself when he was with them; of being rotten, broken inside, irreparable.

But Tav had taught him how to love, first starting with a hug that had left the vampire stunned - a simple gesture, as innocent as it was frightening, because no one had ever hugged him since his transformation (perhaps his mother, when he was a child, but it had been far too many years for him to remember). Then the caresses: superficial, gentle, then increasingly intimate. From the face, to the chest, and lower. Astarion had discovered he loved the tiefling's touch, after an initial hesitation. The act of trust itself was the thing that made him feel on cloud nine, far more than the excitement.

Then they had progressed to lovemaking. Astarion had discovered the pleasures of being cared for, snuggled, in ways he had never even imagined. Because imagining being everybody's whore at the Szarr palace was easy, but receiving attention, being the centre of it... that was hard to imagine.

He had discovered the gentle touch of Tav's hands, their warm, sweet mouth, the warmth of their sex, so different from his cold, marble skin...

But there was something that haunted him: their tail. Tav had always been ashamed of it: the tieflings they had known in their life - including their parents, but also Karlach - all had beautiful tails. They had a very simple one, without spikes or cartilage, and also quite thick, with a very round tip. For this reason they tended, whenever possible, to hide it.

Astarion had never dared to touch it: he had realised it was a weak point for the tiefling. However, that very curious book had led him to discover a fascinating truth.

"Tieflings have an extremely sensitive tail, which swells even more during mating, making it an erogenous zone suitable for all kinds of spells, especially those involving fire and ice."

Astarion's attention had stopped at ‘erogenous zone’.

He had long harboured a fantasy that perhaps even he, who had probably had more sexual partners than his years spent as a vampire spawn, would have described as perverse. He not only wanted to touch that tail, kiss it, lick it, maybe try to bite it to feel if the blood tasted different there, but also... to have it inside.

Astarion knew very well that he took pleasure in penetration. Tav had occasionally played with his asshole during oral sex, inserting a finger or two, making him tremble and come on their tongues.

But, gods, what would he have given for...?

‘Astarion?’

Tav's face popped up inside the heavy, battered tent, a friendly smile always ready to light up his face. ‘Are you alright? It's the middle of the night and I saw you still have your lamp lit. Do you need blood?’

This was another thing that used to drive Astarion crazy: the tiefling's attention to detail. He cared for him all round, always paying attention to his bloodlust, his moments of weakness when he had none left in his body; they noticed when his body stiffened from anxiety and knew about the nights when the elf couldn't even go into his trance, nights when he usually just read until his eyes were on fire.

‘N-no, thank you sweetheart, you already gave me some yesterday and I don't want to debilitate you any more than...’

‘That book again? What's so good about it?’ they asked, closing the curtain behind them and stretching dangerously towards the tome. ‘Give me here-’

‘Nothing special! It's just, you know, very funny, haha!’ he replies, closing it and throwing it into the backpack behind him using all his agility - not enough, however, to stop their Misty Steps.

‘Sooner or later I swear I'm going to break that magical necklace’ he mumbles, as Tav appears behind him, grabbing the book in time. ‘Let's see what you were reading...’

With a theatrical gesture, the tiefling's hand rises, making the pages move to where the reading had been interrupted.

"Tiefling and sex: a hellish pleasure, chapter 16."

Astarion swallows, averting his gaze. ‘’It's-it's not what you think,‘’ he stutters, throwing off his mask once more. ‘I was just curious...’

Tav begins to read, stroking their chin. ‘So, you want to use magic in bed. Are you sure?’

‘I... that's not what I'm interested in,’ he confesses, knowing that he can't blurt it out this time. Also because the tiefling's tail is finally free and not hidden under pounds of fabric, which brings all of Astarion's blood between his thighs.

It is beautiful: smooth, free of frills. It moves like a whip, like an oak branch on a rainy evening. He licks his teeth.

‘But it's a book about magic and sex. And you don't look to me like a great lover of the first one. Drop it, Astarion,' they intimated. But the vampire's gaze is fixed on the tail moving left and right, the round tip caressing the air. He feels an emptiness inside him, a void he wants to fill.

Tav sighs, turning around. ‘There's something in the tent that-’

They breath catches, realising that behind them there is, in fact, only their tail.

"Tieflings have extremely sensitive tails...’ they reads out loud, then snap the tome shut. 'Is that what's going through your head? Do you want to touch my tail? You know I hate it and if I could I would..."

‘’It's gorgeous,‘’ he whispers, in a trembling voice. ‘I can't stop thinking about it. I know you can't stand its appearance, but I want to touch it so badly...’

Tav doesn't know how to react. It is the first time Astarion confesses this interest of his, even complimenting. He had only previously asked to touch it and had been smacked full in the face by the said tail.

But they are attentive to details. They notice the vampire's erection, his dilated irises. His cheeks, perhaps by a trick of the light, even look a little pink.

‘All right, but just once. I don't want you to... look at her any more than you have to,' they warn him, prodding their thumbs with the horns, a gesture Astarion has by now learned to interpret as shyness. ‘Let's consider it an exchange for that time I touched your ears.’

The elf is amazed when they turn around, showing their shoulders. The tail comes out of a hole artfully sewn between the trousers, so as not to show more than it should.

He releases it from that restraint, lowering it just enough to look and touch it in the warm candlelight, but without showing any extra skin. Smooth, thick, to the top, round and perfect. Astarion reaches out a hand, making them both gasp when he touches it.

He runs a thumb over the top, squeezing the tip between his fingertips just enough to make his beloved sigh. He then proceeds down, bringing it close to his face, stroking it with the tip of his nose. ‘Gods, you're so perfect.’

The cold breath on his skin makes Tav gasp, who plants their claws on his own thighs and bites his lip, trying to hold back a groan; which they're unable to do when Astarion reaches the base and after a brief massage begins to lick the patch of skin that joins the tail to the body.

‘Oh, gods, Astarion... wait!’

‘You know you have to use the safe word in these cases,’ he whispers. Ever since they had started making love, because Astarion was still exploring his tastes, the tiefling had suggested using a word of caution in case either of them really wanted to interrupt. This was because, occasionally, they both tended to ask to wait when they really just wanted to get on with it.

... ‘and I'm not hearing it.’

Tav, almost instinctively, stretches their body downwards, raising the bottom upwards, moaning as softly as possible so as not to wake the others, while he continues to lick the base. Twisting the tail in his hands, just like a cat when its attention is drawn to prey.

‘Now, hold still,’ he orders to Tav, licking languidly along the length. ‘Tail included.’ They execute, trying to spy him from behind the shoulder. ‘What are you gonna do?’

‘You'll see soon enough, my love.’

Astarion flicks his tongue up and down, helping himself with his hands to bring it to his mouth. The fangs caress the skin, without scratching. The temptation to bite is high, but for now his plans are otherwise. ‘Stop...’

His mouth finally reaches the tip, and after two languid licks, he holds it between his lips and sucks, then tries to take as much of it into his mouth as possible. ‘Oh, gods...! Astarion, what are you...?’

The elf begins to move his head up and down, as his hand sneaks under Tav's trousers, admitting a laugh-like cry when he feels their underwear wet. And Astarion's own cock begs to be released, as he begins to soak his trousers. Soon he stands up, abandoning his tail and lowering his trousers. ‘Get undressed,’ he begs them. ‘I need you now.’

After they both get naked, Astarion starts kissing Tav's neck, inevitably ending up biting and sucking some blood. ‘Mh, you look delicious tonight, my dear.’

‘Thank you.’ Their hand plays with his hair. ‘I really enjoyed that. I didn't think you could do something like that...’

As he licks the two tiny holes to make them heal, his hands return to the Tiefling's thighs. ‘...That's not the only thing I plan to do tonight.’

‘Oh, yeah? And tell me, what goes through that well-literate mind?' they tease him, pushing so that the thief's dexterous fingers can suppress the desire that is driving them out of their minds.

‘Do you remember when you told me that you would like to do what you desired with me? That night when you got drunk and were terribly, incredibly horny and sexy, but we couldn't do anything because we all had to sleep in a shit room?’

‘Yes.’  

‘Then do whatever you want with me, but under one rule. You will have to use only your tail, my dear.’

Tav turns their head, raising an eyebrow, but without interrupting that pleasurable touch between his legs, his eyes full of desire. ‘Are you sure? I don't want you to make you...’

‘I'm asking you,’ he reassures them, kissing them on the forehead. ‘I'm comfortable with it, because it's something I've never done or tried. It's undiscovered territory, just ours.’ In spite of the burning desire, there is an infinite thoughtfulness and gentleness in his eyes and voice. ‘I'm yours.’

The tiefling turns completely back, kissing him. Through the tadpole, they feel a strong curiosity from Astarion, curiosity that - surprisingly - they have as well.

‘Do you really like my tail that much? It's so ugly. Karlach's one is much more beautiful." They stroke their own tail, analysing the humid tip.

‘But it's not yours. And then yes, I find it dreadfully gorgeous... and arousing,’ he confesses, lying down on the pillows. They lie on him, caressing his face. The long tail strokes his testicles, then the length of his cock.

‘Mmmh...’

‘Do you like it like that?’ they ask, as the tail makes one, two, three laps around Astarion's manhood. ‘Tell me if I'm tightening too much.’

Astarion gasps, gripping to the velvet underneath him. ‘D-don't stop. And hold tighter.’

The tiefling begins to wiggle their tail, tightening.. It's not exactly a piece of cake, but keeping it hidden all the time has led them to train it and execute precise movements. The vampire trembles, arches his back in an attempt to accompany the motion; his thrusts begin to become imprecise, words disjointed, eyes glazed over.

‘I want you inside. With the tail. Please!’ His tone is desperate, barely enough breath in his lungs to speak. Tav releases him, noticing how red the tip is. ‘Did I squeeze you that hard? Does it hurt?’ they ask, concerned.

‘N-not at all,’ he babbles, covering his face with his hand, his cheeks red with blood and growing excitement, as he spreads his legs apart. Tav makes to approach his cock and take it in their mouth, but he stops him. ‘P-please... just the tail, now! I can't take it much longer.’

A smile paints their faces as they lie on top of him, one hand holding the tip of the tail in front of his entrance. Astarion's beads of arousal had been so copious that they descended to his asshole, which allows Tav to insert the tip without difficulty. The vampire groans, eyes wide with astonishment as the tail slides deeper and deeper, opening him up, filling him. It moves up and down, but also sideways, forming an "s". He bares his fangs, clawing at the pillows, breathing heavily. Tav watches him, a hint of pride in their chest at knowing that the part they had so rejected now makes both feel good.

‘On your hands and knees’ they order, taking Astarion by the hips and flipping him over. The elf leans on his elbows and knees as Tav resumes penetrating him. The tail fills him, until it hits his most sensitive spot, moving left, right, spinning.

‘Shit!’ he screams, collapsing, but Tav holds his bottom up and stands up, spreading his legs apart. ‘That's it, enjoy it, my love.’

This is too much for the poor thief. He comes suddenly, with long, white streams hitting the pillows, carpets and floor. Tav rides his orgasm, until Astarion is breathless.

‘That was... incredible,’ he gasps, trying to recover, but his legs don't respond. His body still shudders, just as his cock continues to release little pearls of pleasure. ‘I hope you've changed your mind about your tail.’

Tav smiles, stroking his back. ‘Yeah, I think I have.’

Remember that trauma is not forever. I happened to read about using kinks to overcome PTSD, and I thought that was fitting for Astarion. As a SA survivor, it's important to me to use this fanfiction both for fun and to leave a positive message when I can. Pain and suffering do not last forever. <3

#astarion x tav #astarion smut #reriwrites #astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #tiefling

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dragcnlxrd · 10 months

Text

@ravusnightblossom continued from x

⋞⁘♔⁘⋟ There was barely enough time for Ravus to register that he’d been tagged before Lysander darted off. “Hey!” he called out, laughing and running after him. He knew his brief moment of shock wasn’t going to work in his benefit, but he was still determined to try and win!

The detour to avoid Maria did afford him a brief second of advantage, but it still wasn’t enough for him to gain an advantage over his best friend. It was worth it not to be scolded, at least.

“Oh hush with that!” The remark about his love of baked goods made him snort in amusement while he tried to stop his running pace. His chest was pounding, but the rush of adrenaline had been fun! Even if he’d lost their spontaneously begun race. “You cheated,” he wheezed in accusation with a smirk. “You have to tell me when we’re about to do that, then I’d be ready!”

As Lysander scaled the railing, Ravus watched, hoping he wouldn’t injure himself, somehow. When he motioned for him to follow, he debated. Climbing and crawling about were fun, but Mother would be livid if he ruined his nicer casual clothing by tearing a pantleg on a fence or something. ’Hell with it,’ he thought, then grabbed ahold of the posts, just a few paces behind Lysander.

In one of the pens, a solid black bird eyed him, never making a noise, just watching. The black chocobos unsettled Ravus and he wasn’t certain why. Maybe different coloured birds just had specific dispositions? Regardless, those ones unsettled him.

As the door the the stall was opened, Ravus’ face lit up. The chicks were absolutely precious! “How old are they?” he asked while stepping closer.

“How close can I get? I… I don’t want to frighten them.” Nervousness flourished. The birds didn’t know Ravus as they did Lysander. The last thing he needed was to accidentally alarm a whole stall of baby chocobos. And if he did that, would the adult birds rush to defend the babies? Hell, he could be pecked to death, then his mother would really be furious!

"You can pet them if that's what you want. They won't run", he said as he went before Ravus kneeling down close to the fat chicks.

One peeped and ruffled fluffy fuzzy feathers before settling back. He noticed the black chocobo in one of the connecting stalls eyeing them. He always wondered what Ravus had against that bird. It was a beautiful bird in Lysander's opinion. He'd wanted to claim it but his mother had denied such a request.

"What do you have against Hermes?", he asked nodding towards the black chocobo.

Reaching over he plucked up one of the chicks and placed it in Ravus' hands. That should be enough to ease his friends tension. No one could resist a baby chocobo. He picked up his own chick and sat it on his lap stroking it's downy feathers softly.

It was times like this that Lysander often forgot Ravus was a prince and that there were certain protocols and behaviors he needed to abide by. To him he just saw Ravus as his best friend. To him they were just two kids sitting in the hay petting fat fluffy chicks not a prince and his shield in training.

"Lysander Balaur! Ravus Nox Fleuret! What are you doing in there! Put those chicks down and get out of that filthy pen!", came a chastising voice.

The owner of the voice was a lithe and beautiful woman with pale hair and even paler eyes than Lysander's amethyst. She was dressed in the clothes of the common folk but held herself regally. Behind her a golden chocobo blinked looking at the boys over her shoulder.

"Muña, I was just showing Ravus the chicks", he huffed putting the one in his lap down and standing dusting off his hands.

"Ravus? He is not some child! That is your prince and if your father heard you addressing him as such he would tan your hide", she said her voice heavy with an accent like none other in Tenebrae.

"Do you not have lessons?", she said as she opened the pen and lead the bird in.

"And you your royal highness... should you not be in lessons? What are you doing here in the stables you should be in the manor", she said eyeing the boys.

#ravusnightblossom #I shield the Light in the Darkness [ F i n a l • F a n t a s y • X V ]

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quartermera · 2 years

Text

Adjusting Sanji's Tie

♠: One character adjusting the other's jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

You had been through many adventures with Sanji, but none quite like this one. Sure, you had encountered many dangers, traveled to the wildest places in the world. You had tried the most exotic foods together and somehow avoided many perilous situations. But after all of this, it was time for Sanji to finally introduce you to his family: the cooks of the Baratie. And needless to say, you had rarely seen him so nervous.

Throughout your journey together, he had often told you about his life abroad that ship, before joining the Strawhats. One figure you particularly remembered because of how often Sanji mentioned the name was Zepp. You had been told many things about him: his bad character, his pride, but also his devotion and hidden softness perhaps. It was very clear to you that he was important to Sanji, hence why he was so eager yet so nervous to present you.

He knew you would do a good impression and he trusted the crew of the Baratie enough to show some decency. But he was terrified that the two most important people in his life would not get along.

"Y/N! Are you ready?" Sanji asked once again, peeping into your shared cabin.

With a chuckle you responded: "Yes, stop worrying!"

He left out a sigh and lit a cigarette. He had been burning through them at a particularly high speed the entire day.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure. We're getting close to the Baratie and I want us to make a good impression."

You noticed him gulp as he looked down to the floor. Walking over to him, you gently held his chin between your index and thumb, lifting his head back up.

"We got this," you affirmed comfortingly.

Nodding in silence, Sanji took a calming breath.

Intertwining your fingers, he led you to the deck of the ship. The Baratie was visible in the distance.

Looking at Sanji again, you noticed his tie had shifted and the knot was messy. Chuckling to yourself, you pulled on his hand so he would turn to face you. Without a word, you busied yourself with untying the fabric and tying it back elegantly.

Looking up at him you declared jokingly: "Gotta make a good impression, right?"

Smiling, he brought your hand to his lips in order to kiss it before turning his gaze back to the Baratie.

"I'm sure we will."

Hello @uncertainturquoise ! It is a very cute thing to think about indeed hehe ^^ I hope I did the prompt and Sanji justice!

Tag List: @kaizokuwritings @some-piece @doctorgerth

Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy Prompt List

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji imagines #vinsmoke sanji scenarios #vinsmoke sanji fluff #one piece fluff #gender neutral reader #race neutral reader #2022 event

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years

Note

hello 🧸 i really enjoy reading your alice in borderland writings and just wanted to say that your writing is ✨immaculate✨ hope you keep up the good work!also, i wanted to request something where the reader is this badass/genius at the beach and niragi and chishiya can’t help but be attracted to her and so they try to pursue her both. but even though she acts tough on the outside she does like them back and the rest is up to you if that’s alright~

Thank you so much! That just made my day. 😊 And of course, here you go!

Two Peculiar Admirers | Shuntaro Chishiya, Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya, Niragi (Aguni, Kuina, OC)

Summary: You are a new member of The Beach with a harsh attitude and a strong personality. Chishiya and Niragi can’t help but be a little bit lovestruck.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, blood, stalking, violence, threatening

Word Count: 3.5k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: I planned to fit this all into one part but it got a bit too long and I still have more to write. I’m so sorry I left it at a cliffhanger but I promise I’ll upload Part 2 before you know it!

Gifs Credit

It had all begun when Aguni had brought you back to The Beach.

You were a particularly strong woman, both on the inside and the outside. You didn’t hesitate in games to do what needed to be done to survive. And best of all, you were on your own. He thought you would be a perfect little guinea pig to add to the pile back at The Beach to help collect cards.

Aguni had found you at a heart’s game, a game of betrayal. He noticed you at registration, believing that you would be killed off within the first few minutes. But he got a great surprise to see that you gave up other player’s lives without hesitation. At least you knew how to survive in the Borderlands, no friends, no one to betray.

He followed you for a while after the game, trying to find the right moment to grab you and place the black bag over your head. You noticed him following you a few times, so you kept your guard up.

But eventually, he used his strength against you and knocked you out with a few hits to the head. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you black out.

He didn’t want to take any chances. After seeing your strength and skills conveyed at the hearts game, he didn’t want to risk becoming injured or even killed by you.

After being brought back, Aguni spoke highly of you in the meeting room, causing Hatter to move you to a higher number than most. You were annoyed if anything, you were doing completely fine by yourself. Why did these people have to drag you into their selfish and chaotic dynamic?

You were rather cold-hearted towards everyone, being upset about becoming a part of all this mess. You felt like a soldier in a meaningless war. You didn’t want to put all your energy into your games just to let one person leave this hell. Everyone seemed blinded by it, didn’t they realize they were believing empty promises?

*************

On one of your first nights at The Beach, you had been sitting at a booth nearby the pool by yourself. You enjoyed watching people acting like drunken idiots, it was entertaining to you. Sipping your drink and laughing at people getting pushed into the water had become one of your favourite pastimes, since there didn’t seem to be much else to do other than drink or dance.

This was when Niragi first approached you.

A sudden arm slung around your shoulders like a snake. You whipped your head around harshly, receiving a fright from the action. A young man with several silver piercings in his face had decided he had the audacity to make himself comfortable right next to you. Well, technically it felt like he was sitting right on top of you he was that close.

You furrowed your eyebrows roughly at him but didn’t move, just staring at him with a surprised look on your face.

“Hey sweetheart, you’re looking awfully lonely,” he began, leaning his face much closer to yours. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m sitting over there with a few of my friends. I would love it if you could join us.”

You could tell this guy had never been rejected before, his ego was so large it oozed off his words like a bad smell. You put a hand against his chest and pushed him away from you. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Look sorry… whatever your name is. You’re being real fucking annoying right now,” you said, being straight forward with him. Although you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t appreciate his confidence. But there was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and this man seemed to be right in between the two.

He sat up and off you with a shocked look on his face. “Are you sure you want to be saying that to me?” he said in an annoyed tone. You watched as he cocked his pierced eyebrow upwards, being interested in how you would answer.

You gave a big sarcastic smile and giggled. “Yeah, you’re nothing special sweetheart. Thanks for ruining my peace and quiet.” You stood up out of your seat and his arm slid off your shoulder. He watched you in shock as you strutted away from the booth, making your way to the bar nearby. You didn’t want to argue with a man who just so obviously wanted to get into your pants. You weren’t going to give into anyone that easy.

Niragi let out a big breath and smirked as he checked you out from the booth. “Hopefully no one saw that.” He said to himself.

No girl had ever rejected him so harshly before. You didn’t know who he was? Did no one tell you?

Your harsh remark to his attempted flirting struck a chord within him. He felt his heartstrings pull tight in his chest. That attitude of yours really hit him.

I mean, who wouldn’t love to play a game of cat and mouse? Because the vibe you were giving off to Niragi gave him the idea that you would love to play a little chase game of emotions with him.

***********

Chishiya’s meeting with you would have been rather bizarre. He met you at a game because you were assigned to the same group as him for one night.

During the drive on the way there, you kept glancing your eyes over to the mysterious figure. He sat quietly in his seat, hood over his head and earbuds in his ears. He wore all white, reminding you of a ghost.

The game was a four of clubs. Pretty easy for someone like you, or so you thought.

It was held in an apartment block that reached twelve levels high. The aim of the game was to find the safe zone to disengage the bomb within the time limit and without being ‘tagged’ by the tagger.

During the first five minutes of the game, you tried your hardest to remain alone, but a young man who didn’t have any idea what he was doing followed you around from registration. He seemed to be a new player, so after a while you decided to tolerate him. He could be used as a shield from the tagger if worse came to worse.

As you made your way around the levels, checking every door and looking around every corner, you heard rapid gunshots every now and then. It made your heart drop every time you heard it just below you or just above you.

At some point you watched as you saw the tagger take aim at someone who was on a different level. You watched as the young man ducked down to avoid being killed, bullet holes shredding into the wall next to him in the process.

You frowned. Why did the tagger attack him so far away? Every victim has been on the same floor as him when he kills them.

Then it hit you: he was trying to protect the door that the young man was attempting to open. That must have been the safe space.

You and the new player that remained with you made your way down a few levels to the door that the tagger had been shooting to. There had to be something there, he wouldn’t aim from that far if he didn’t want that door opened.

As you arrived, the tagger and the young man gone, you were about to open the door before you heard a voice call from further down the balcony.

The mysterious figure from the car was there, strutting along the path like he owned the place. You kept your hand on the door handle and looked at him to see what he had to say.

“Are you sure you want to open that?” he gloated, smiling slightly and stopping just next to you. You looked him up and down. He had a shorter stature than you expected.

“I was planning on it,” you remarked, jiggling the door handle in your grasp. It was unlocked, unlike all the other doors you had tried. This must have been the safe zone.

The figure tucked his hands into the pockets of his white hoodie and raised his eyebrows while scanning the door up and down. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the tagger didn’t just stand in front of it?” he said.

You thought for a second. He had a point, but you didn’t have time to think logically at that moment. The game phone in your pocket beeped and announced that there was only five minutes remaining.

“Look I’ll just open it slowly. But we must hurry because we won’t know how long I could take to disengage the bomb,” you said matter-of-factly.

The man nodded and stood behind you so he could see what was through the door when you opened it. You breathed out heavily and slowly turned the door handle to peep inside.

The room blossomed with light as soon as you opened the door. It seemed normal enough, except there was another door on the other side of the room that led to a lit-up area.

“That must be the safe zone,” you breathed out, relieved. “Must be,” the figure repeated.

A sudden deafening sound filled the air behind you and you both whipped your head around to see the new player that had followed you lying on the ground with several holes in his chest. You felt blood splatter onto your face from the impact, shifting your eyes upwards just to see the tagger at the end of the hallway, quickly storming their way down towards you and the man.

“Shit!” you screamed. “No time to waste!”

You pulled open the door completely, and before Chishiya could even think quick enough, you grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and tugged him inside harshly.

He stumbled from the sudden movement and ended up falling on top of you from the force, managing to kick the door shut with his foot in the process.

You groaned underneath him. “Sorry,” you muttered. “You weren’t moving so I didn’t have a choice.”

He chuckled above you and pushed his arms against the ground to stand himself up and off you. “No worries, I could never be mad at someone for saving my life.”

*************

You thought that both of those encounters with the strange young men would be your last, but apparently not.

You began being put in the same games as Chishiya more often, eventually forming a bond with him and always teaming up together during games. He introduced you to his friend Kuina, who you became rather close as time went on.

Although you still preferred your time alone greatly, there was always a certain someone who would disturb your peace and quiet.

Niragi would take any opportunity to annoy you, whether it be in the hallways when you’re on your way to bed where he would back you up against a wall and try to make you feel threatened, or whether it be out at the pool when you were by yourself. People would stare at you both as he sat with you and tried to make it seem like to the public that you were together, which was quite embarrassing.

He would never leave you alone, and at some points you began to believe that he was stalking you. He managed to find you everywhere, so it wouldn’t be an outrageous claim.

Chishiya however you found a lot more likeable.

He was subtle, kind of making sly comments about his attraction to you every now and then. You appreciated him trying to hide it more rather than being too open about it like Niragi. It made you more interested in the intelligent and mysterious man.

Chishiya at times though would come across as rather overprotective. That was the only thing you had a problem with, because out of all people he would know that you can handle yourself simply fine.

Sometimes in games together, he would do everything in his power to make sure you stay away from potential death. At times he would drag you around like a ragdoll just so you stay beside him. It became quite annoying, but you dealt with it anyway. You did not want to offend or upset him.

**********

Niragi leant against the hallway wall just outside your bedroom door. He was waiting for you to get changed so he could take you down to the bar and have a few drinks with you. You did not know he was outside though, he kind of just saw you after you arrived back from your game and followed you.

As he fiddled with his rifle to kill time, he heard a small pitter-patter of feet just down the hall from him. He glanced upwards to see none other than Chishiya making his way up the carpet towards him.

Both exchanged confused looks, until Niragi’s mouth pulled up into a smirk and he ran his pierced tongue over his bottom lip slowly like a snake.

“What’s a blondy like you doing here?” he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and slinging his rifle over his shoulder in its usual position.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows, conveying his usual confident expression on his face. “I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted, walking further towards Niragi.

Niragi chuckled deeply then spoke. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Really? Giving them a fright before their execution. That’s quite low Niragi even for you.” Chishiya’s smile never left his face.

Niragi threw his head back and cackled. “No actually, quite the opposite really. I’m waiting to take her down to the pool.”

Chishiya widened his eyes in shock. “Her? Hm. I never took you as the romantic type,” he teased.

“I’m not. I’m more of the ‘follow you around until you pay attention to me’ type,” Niragi admitted. Chishiya let out a small laugh at his comment.

“Seems more like you.”

Chishiya walked further towards Niragi who remained close to your door. He watched in confusion as Chishiya reached his hand out towards the door handle to open it, but before he could, Niragi whipped his hand quickly over it to stop him.

“What are you doing?” Niragi said in a tense voice, so contrasting to the somewhat light-hearted one he had just a moment ago.

Chishiya pulled his hand back slowly and looked up into Niragi’s darkened eyes. “Going into this room? What else would I be doing?”

“But this is Y/N’s room,” Niragi argued, standing in front of the door so Chishiya couldn’t get inside.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? So? I need to talk to her.”

Niragi leaned down closer to him with a frown painted on his face. “About what?”

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “None of your business you creep. Why are you standing in front of Y/N’s room like a guard dog anyway?”

“She’s the one I’m taking down to the bar.”

Chishiya’s heart dropped. There’s no way you’ve been with Niragi, you weren’t dumb enough to become involved with the psychotic militants.

“Wait no. She told me that she was going to spend some time with me and Kuina after the games.”

Silence filled the air between them. Neither of them knew what to say, but the rising tension between them became stronger each second.

“Does she know you’re here?” Chishiya asked out of the blue.

“Does she know you’re here?” Niragi fired back, avoiding his question.

Another awkward silence before Niragi spoke. “Look, you better not get involved with her more than you already have. She’s mine so you stay away from her,” he threatened Chishiya, walking towards him causing the shorter man to take a step back.

“Oh, you want me to stay away? You are standing outside her bedroom door with a rifle over your shoulder. Do you really think she’ll learn to like you?”

“At least she can trust me, you fucking manipulative snake.”

“She’d probably be terrified you’d put several bullets through her Niragi. Why don’t you think logically and leave her alone? It would save her the suffering of having to deal with you!”

“What? So, you can gaslight your way into her trust? At least I am straight forward Chishiya, you’d do nothing but lie and use her for your own personal gain like the fucking selfish brat you are!”

“No, at least I wouldn’t view her as nothing but a toy to play with. You know she doesn’t like you, so why the fuck do you keep trying?”

“Shut up!”

“No, I won’t! I am not going to let you weasel your way into her life and put her on display like some trophy to show off to everyone! Just leave her the fuck alone and stop following her around! It’s really fucking pathetic of you!”

Chishiya suddenly flew back into the wall behind him, creating a large bang that echoed down the halls. Niragi had kicked him square in the chest backwards. He let out a satisfied laugh.

“Look at you! You can’t even defend yourself! What makes you think that you could keep me away from Y/N?!”

Chishiya sat up from his position on the floor and let out a loud groan. His spine was screaming in pain, making him stumble before finally standing on his two feet.

Niragi didn’t even give him time to breath before he punched him across the jaw, making his head whip sideways and fall back against the wall. Niragi gripped one hand in his blonde hair roughly while another clutched the collar of his hoodie.

Chishiya yelped in pain, not being able to fight back. He didn’t bring any weapons to help himself, he did not expect to be in this situation when he left his room to come to yours.

Niragi leaned close to his face which was scrunched up in pain. “I dare you to try and keep me away. Because nothing comes between me and what I want, no matter what it is.” He spat harshly in his face, narrowly missing Chishiya’s eye.

He let loose of Chishiya’s white hair, causing him to fall to the carpeted ground. “I guess I’ll meet up with her another time, when there aren’t any rats around to trip on,” Niragi chuckled and turned to make his way down the hall towards the staircase at the end.

‘What wonderful timing Y/N would have if she came out just now,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

As if he had predicted the future, you busted out of your room harshly, almost tripping in the process. You locked eyes with Chishiya, who had blood pouring out his nose while seated against the wall opposite your door.

“Oh my god! Chishiya! The fuck happened to you?!” you exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling in front of him. “I heard a loud bang outside and came out to see what it was. Was someone else here?”

Chishiya grabbed the hand that you offered to him to help him up. He groaned as you lifted him to a standing position, only for him to fall forwards onto you from sudden nausea that hit him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him upright while he placed his chin on your collarbone.

“Just forget about it. I’m okay, just a little scratched up,” he tried to deflect your question. “I had a really rough game and I tripped over just then. Smacking my nose on the ground didn’t help much.” He was surprised with himself about how quick he covered up what happened. He felt quite embarrassed being beaten up by someone as dumb as Niragi, so he didn’t want to tell you.

You laughed a little bit, the happy sound warming Chishiya’s heart. “You’re such an idiot. How do you manage to survive all these games while being so clumsy?”

Chishiya smiled. The fact that you cared about him outweighed the throbbing pain of his developing bruise on his jaw. He brought a hand up to his nose and wiped along it, soaking up the small bit of blood in his sleeve.

“You still want to go see Kuina?” he asked you, pulling away from you and looking you in the eyes.

“Yeah of course!” you exclaimed excitedly. “I was thinking we go down to the pool for a while. We can sit in a corner somewhere and chat,” you suggested.

Chishiya nodded and held out his hand. “Shall we then?” he said teasingly.

You laughed and began walking while leaving him hanging. “Maybe one day I’ll hold your hand, but not today.”

Chishiya chuckled and jogged to catch up with you. As you walked side by side, he secretly hoped that Niragi wouldn’t be down at the pool, preparing to start trouble the moment he sees Chishiya with you.

Unfortunately, his luck wasn’t on his side that night.

2K notes · View notes

magniloquent-raven · 3 years

Text

i wanted to write an ace billy ficlet for ace week but it ended up being longer than i thought it would be and so took me too long to write lol, but here yall go! belatedly! billy having a lot of feelings about being ace that definitely weren't just me projecting!! pls enjoy

tag list peeps @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful

(read on ao3)

🖤🤍💜

Billy knocks back another shot. There's a speaker hanging on the wall next to him pumping out tinny dance beats so loudly he can feel his molars vibrate. Every high note is a spike through his brain, but at least he can use the music as an excuse to ignore the conversations going on around him.

He used to be good at this shit. Crowds. Drunken strangers. Flirting with anyone who looked at him twice. He made sure he was good at it.

But, well. Shit happens. Monsters happened. A shadow reaching into his brain and pulling him apart piece by piece, cold fingers gripping his spine and pulling him around like a marionette. Blood on his hands. It changes a person.

And so does falling in love.

He throws back another mouthful of tequila.

He lost track of time four shots ago, but it feels like he’s been here all night. The longer he sits around scanning nondescript bodies—trying and failing to find any of it interesting—the more he drinks, hoping maybe, maybe something will happen. Like he just needs half a bottle of tequila in his system to unlock that special something everyone always insists they can feel. Some days it’s hard to decide if he wants to believe everyone’s just lying to him, that he isn’t missing anything, it’s all just a big fucking con.

But some days the absence is an unmistakable void.

I swear to god, Billy, could you just find someone to suck your dick or something and stop being such a goddamn prick all the time?

He knows Steve regretted saying it the second it was out of his mouth, even if he didn’t know the full extent of what he’d just done. He doesn’t know that the last time Billy had someone’s mouth near his junk was back in California, right before his father beat him within an inch of his life. Or that it was in no way worth almost dying for, because he didn’t even know the guy and he had to smoke way too much pot to even get in the frame of mind where he could get hard in front of someone else.

So, Billy knows that Steve wouldn’t have said what he said if he knew. He puts his foot in it sometimes but his heart is always in the right place.

But...still. Billy couldn’t reason away his anger. Or how much it hurt. So he did what he always does when he’s hurting. Drag everyone down with him.

He’s not proud of the shit he said to Steve, but it’s almost worse that he couldn’t even handle being in their apartment afterwards. That now he’s here, of all places. Ironically, trying to take Steve’s advice.

Because maybe this time it’ll be different.

But every man that’s approached him as made his stomach turn sour with an anxious sort of disgust at the thought of any of them touching him. Only one was bold enough to try anything, and as much as Billy tried to allow the intrusion, his body rebelled against him, shoving the man away when his fingertips brushed Billy’s waistband suggestively.

Somewhere in the drunken fog clouding his brain he realizes that people seem to be avoiding him at this point. It would be a relief if not for the horrible little voice in his head reminding him that he’ll have to go home if he can’t find anyone to fuck him.

He drums his fingers on the sticky counter and tries to get his shit together. At least enough to bat his eyelashes at the least repulsive guy he can find and put his self-loathing on hold long enough to seal the deal.

It’s starting to look like a losing battle.

“Hargrove?”

His back stiffens, gaze darting to the side, to the familiar voice he almost didn’t hear over the music, just to make sure he was wrong, but—

“...Buckley.”

She’s leaning against the bar, eyeliner more smudged than usual, dirty blonde hair escaping her ponytail in frizzy waves, some girl Billy doesn’t recognize clutching her elbow..

It takes him a second. Squinting at their blurry outlines in the low light, flashes of neon reflecting off Robin’s silver bracelets, the other girl’s heavy lip gloss, casting odd shadows that make their expressions hard to read. They’re so in each others’ space that their silhouettes merge together.

A beat too late it clicks. Even drunk as he is, he can put two and two together.

He blinks at their linked hands. “Well. That explains...things.” Namely the fact that her and Steve never dated. They always looked suspiciously uncomfortable whenever strangers assumed they were together, and Steve would never explain when Billy asked. It’s one thing to not be into her, dodging the question whenever it was brought up set off alarm bells in Billy’s head. “Does Steve know?”

“Of course that’s the first thing you’d—” She’s halfway through rolling her eyes when she stops, blinking at the ceiling, before her gaze falls back to him with a new kind of intensity. “Holy shit. You like hi—”

“No I don’t.”

Shit. Goddamnit. Could’ve at least let her finish her sentence before covering his ass with the least believable lie of all time. There wasn’t much hope for him to begin with, but there’ll be no stopping her now.

Billy winces.

“Jesus Christ. Holy shit, Hargrove.”

He drops his head into his hands, rubbing at his eyes like that’ll make him less drunk and thrown off balance. “Could you fuckin’. Drop it, maybe. Leave it alone. I’m not in the fuckin’ mood,” he snaps.

“Why, did something happen?” She narrows her eyes. “What did you do?”

Robin’s date tugs on her sleeve and raises an aggressively plucked eyebrow. “Who’s Steve?”

“My best friend,” Robin responds without looking away from Billy, at the same time Billy says,

“No one.”

Robin huffs at him.

The girl casts a suspicious glance at Billy. “...Kay,” she lets go of Robin’s arm, and turns to her. “I’m going to get another drink, do you want anything?”

“I, um.” Robin meets her eyes this time, and they exchange a look that Billy doesn’t even try to parse. The lighting is giving him a headache and he’s not fucking interested in whatever’s going on there. “No. Thanks.”

She walks off without another word, curls bouncing as she dodges through the queue gathering around the sole, overworked bartender. “Rude…” Billy mutters without heat, tracing the rim of an empty shot glass with his pinky.

“Like you need any more to drink.”

He shrugs.

“Billy…” She pauses, biting her lips together, brow furrowed as she studies him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What does it fucking look like,” he says flatly, throwing his hand up in a wide, sarcastic, sweeping motion. He lets it fall back to the bar with a dull thud.

“It looks like you’re being an asshole for no goddamn reason. And, Jesus, you smell like a frat house.”

“Would you fuck off,” he groans, turning to her fully. The stool he’s perched on creaks, pleather seat squeaking as he shifts around. It feels wobbly under his weight, and he presses a hand to the bar to steady himself. Robin’s arms are crossed. He sneers at her. “I’m not interested in whatever this is, alright. Go bitch at someone who cares.”

She purses her lips. He almost wants her to fight with him, just so he’ll have somewhere to vent his frustrations, but she just turns away with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. He watches her retreating figuring with a pit in his stomach.

Christ, this is fucking pathetic.

The room spins a little when he stands up, but he powers through, letting the density of the crowd around him hold him up, leaning a little too heavily into it as he pushes people aside. He gets more than one dirty look, and a couple sharp cries of surprise that he pretends not to hear.

This place at least has a decent bathroom, for a club. Clean-ish. Lights that aren’t broken. The stalls are tiny and it stinks like off-brand air freshener and piss, but there’s at least one intact mirror with a working tap under it, and that’s all that matters, really. He just needs to wash his face and fix his hair. Freshen up a little. Get his shit together.

He’s only marginally more put together when he totters out of the bathroom a few minutes later, but it’s enough to get him moving at least.

It doesn’t take him long to spot someone’s eyes trained on his skin-tight jeans. Some guy a couple years older than him, broad-shouldered and dressed a little too nice to be slumming it on this side of town. His starched shirt looks professionally tailored, like something that’s only ever been dry cleaned because its overpaid designer would have a heart attack if it got too rumpled. The dude looks like he gets all his towels monogrammed and he’s got kind of a plastic-looking smile, but whatever, Billy’s done being picky.

He’s trying to get his pickled brain to come up with some kind of game plan when the guy starts walking towards him of his own volition.

So. Alright, Ken Doll it is.

He buys Billy another drink. Makes small talk that Billy mostly just nods at, nursing the cheap beer Mr.Watch-That-Cost-More-Than-Billy’s-Car shelled out for. It’s boring, but the guy keeps touching Billy’s arm the way Billy used to when he was trying to get bored housewives to like him, so apparently they are, in fact, flirting.

The attention is kind of nice, when Billy lets himself relax into it. Even if this dude smells like cough syrup and his laugh is as fake as his hairline.

The hair is actually very distracting in this light. Something about the neon. Billy’s eyes keep getting drawn upwards.

“Dance with me,” Billy interjects suddenly, catching Ken Doll off guard. To his credit, he recovers quickly enough that it’s not awkward, and he takes Billy’s hand with a pleased grin.

The music still sucks, but Billy’s buzzed enough that it doesn’t really matter. It’s not about the music, anyway. It’s about getting this guy to think he’s interested. Touching, being touched, and not having to look him in the eye when he does it.

He plasters himself to the guy, back to his chest, letting surprisingly soft hands wander under his shirt. They aren’t quite in sync as they move, his sense of rhythm is off, but being able to lean back against a warm, solid body is almost soothing enough that he doesn’t care, doesn’t notice the awkward missteps, or the bulge rubbing against him pointedly. They’re both getting what they want out of this, it doesn’t matter that it isn’t the same thing.

He’s nearly succeeded in losing himself in the moment when something catches his eye.

Familiar brown eyes, round with shock, trained on him from the other side of a crowd of strangers.

A strangled noise gurgles in Billy’s throat and he elbows the guy behind him in the gut, throwing him off. His stomach is cold where he’s no longer being touched, and beneath that it curdles and twists with a mix of emotions.

He ignores the man calling after him as he bolts for the door, pushing through people as quickly as his unsteady legs will carry him.

It isn’t fast enough.

“Billy?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Billy mutters, shouldering past Steve before he can stop him.

Frigid November air hits him hard after being in the stuffy heat of the club for so long. He shivers, sweat cooling on his skin. His breath mists in front of him, and his heartbeat thumps painfully against his ribs.

The door creaks behind him, “Billy, hey, c’mon. Robin called me, alright?”

Fucking hell, of course she did.

“Leave me alone, Harrington.” He starts walking in no particular direction. Anywhere away from here.

“She was worried about you, asshole, and so am I—would you just wait a second—” Steve huffs, annoyed, and his footsteps speed up.

His hand lands on Billy’s shoulder, and Billy startles, reflexively throwing Steve’s hand off, and stumbling a little as he jerks away. His shoulder hits brick, impact jarring enough to steal his breath as a dull, throbbing pain lances down his arm. He folds an arm across his stomach, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“What do you want.” His eyes are squeezed shut, but the back of his neck is prickling. He can practically hear Steve breathing behind him.

“I just wanna get you home safe. I—I know I was a total jerk, alright. I’m sorry.”

Billy turns his face away, leaning his forehead against the wall propping him up. It’s fucking freezing, too cold to be comfortable against his flushed skin. He clenches his jaw against a sudden shiver. He owes an apology of his own, but the words stick in his throat.

“Fuck you,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve huffs, putting a gentle hand on Billy’s shoulder. “C’mon.”

He presses firmer against the building, pushing hard enough to hurt, a sharp sting against the sensitive skin of his face, and grinds his heels into the pavement. “No.”

There’s no train of thought that lead him here. Nothing he could point to with any certainty, but the idea of just giving in and following Steve to his car makes his stomach turn. He’s drunk, and miserable, and he hates pretty much everything and everyone at least a little bit right now. That’s never been a safe state of mind for him. He doesn’t know where to go with it. But it’s selfish, he knows, somewhere deep in him, he’s being selfish. This isn’t about protecting Steve from his anger. It’s just...stubbornness, probably.

He shakes his shoulder, dislodging Steve’s hand again.

“Seriously, man, it’s not like you can drive yourself home, what are you—”

“‘S not your fucking business, Harrington.” He stands shakily, pushing himself away from the wall and eyeing Steve with a squinting glare. Steve looks unimpressed, arms folded, his goddamn mom face in full effect. Billy digs in, pointing at the bar with a sweeping gesture. “I’m sure I can find someone to go home with just fine.”

Steve’s jaw drops, gaze flicking between Billy and the door. There’s an expression there Billy can’t read, but it’s gone in an instant, hidden behind a furrowed brow and pursed mouth. “Billy, you’re way too drunk to be hooking up with some stranger, come on.”

“Like you aren’t three sheets to the wind when you bring your bitches home, fuck you. Fuck you.” Billy stumbles into Steve’s space, shoving his shoulder, sparks of something fizzing, popping, burning up in his chest, it hurts, it hurts but he bares his teeth like the pain isn’t eating him alive from the inside. “Would you care if I was planning on sticking it in some nameless cunt, or is the problem that I was gonna let someone stick it in me, huh? Is that it? Go get your dick sucked, Hargrove—” he spits it in a mocking tone, blind to Steve’s expression at this point, his vision is blurred, smudged and red. He shoves Steve again. “But only if I get a chick to do it, right? Is Buckley cool with you being a hypocrite, or do you hate her too—”

“Okay, enough,” Steve snaps, grabbing Billy’s wrists as he goes to push him a third time. He struggles, twisting in Steve’s grip, wrenching his elbows. The more he tugs and writhes the harder frustration clenches his insides in its barbed grip. Bile rises in the back of his throat, thick and sour and threatening to choke him with every labored breath.

He lashes out one last time, fists colliding with Steve’s chest. They stagger back, and Steve hits a wall with a wheezing exhale, pulling Billy along with him.

They’re both breathing heavy, standing close enough that their chests brush with every inhale.

Steve is staring at him intently, lips parted, his face still unreadable. “You’re wrong, you know,” he says quietly. His grip on Billy’s wrists tightens minutely when Billy scoffs. “I wasn’t—Christ, Billy, I wasn’t, like, grossed out by you being gay. I’m not. I’m…” He sighs, and lets his head fall back, hitting the wall with a dull thud. He stares up at the sky. Billy almost takes the moment of distraction to free himself but there’s a niggling suspicion tickling the back of his mind and it keeps him frozen in place. “Y’know, I come here sometimes. I was the one who told Robin it was a decent place for a date. Not...not that I’ve been on a real date since…well.” He sighs.

When he lets go Billy doesn’t step away.

“You’re gonna have to run that by me again.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “I’ve been with guys, Billy. You’re not the only one who comes here for hookups.”

The revelation weighs heavy on him, sinks like a stone in his gut. It shouldn’t be like this. It should feel different. He’s imagined a thousand times in a hundred different ways how Steve might be able to love him back, and even when his guilty fantasies were tainted by bouts of self-loathing it never felt like this.

But he never reacts to things how he’s supposed to, does he.

And this...this moment. Promises of good things always scare him, but this isn’t fear, not quite. It’s a discomfort he can’t describe. Intangible but suffocating. There’s too much wrong in his head, too many teeth in the dark, snapping at him while he scrambles for a flashlight. He’s tired of it. He just wants it to be quiet for once. He wants to just...be normal.

He feels a hot puff of air as Steve says his name, inhales sharply, lets Billy collide with him. It’s a rough, bruising, desperate plea of a kiss, his fingers buried in Steve’s hair, eyes squinched shut. He presses in close, close enough that the cold metal zipper on Steve’s jacket digs into the bare skin of his chest, and his belt buckle clinks against something. He throws as much of himself as he can into that kiss. Gives it all he’s got.

But it...it doesn’t…

He hasn’t kissed a boy since he was fifteen, young and stupid and unaware, getting high with a friend he hadn’t realized had feelings for him. It was brief, and awkward, and he felt more when Eric hugged him goodbye than when he tried to stick his tongue in his mouth. Kissing girls was worse, like swallowing sand—boring, painful, messy. He didn’t kiss anyone unless he had to.

Until now. And he didn’t know how much he expected from it until he was disappointed.

He barely feels the kiss. He goes through the motions, the slide and press of dry, chapped lips, but he’s too busy waiting for something that’ll never come to pay attention to what’s happening, too frustrated and in his head and...

Steve sighs against his lips, a soft sound that hums in his throat, and brings up a hand to cup Billy’s cheek.

His fingers are cold, and Billy jolts at the touch. Shudders when Steve trails along the line of his jaw. He’s gentle, his movements deliberate. He has Billy stopped in his tracks, frozen and waiting to see where this goes.

“Hey.” Steve nuzzles their noses together. “You okay?” He kisses the corner of Billy’s mouth, light and chaste, while he plays with a loose curl behind Billy’s ear.

Billy’s heart thuds painfully in his chest, beating frantically against his ribcage. His throat tightens. His eyes burn. He takes a shuddering breath in a wretched attempt to steady himself, but it catches, falters, and the last of his defenses crumble.

He pulls back, swaying, dizzy and barely able to make out Steve’s wide-eyed concern through the haze of hot tears spilling down his cheeks. He hears, faintly, a sound of alarm, registers clammy palms cradling his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones, fruitlessly wiping tears away. He wants to pry himself out of Steve’s grip, wants to retreat, hide, but there’s nowhere left to run, and as terrified as he is of weathering the tenderness, Steve’s touch is the only thing keeping his knees from giving out.

“Billy, hey,” Steve whispers, urgent, a tremble in his voice, “What’s wrong?” He smooths errant curls away from Billy’s face, carding careful fingers through his hair.

“I am,” he spits in disgust, in anger, voice cracking, wet with tears. He swipes the heel of his hand across his eyes, leaving a damp smear behind. “I’m—I—” He can’t find the words. It’s something he’s always known about himself but he’s never put a voice to, and now that he’s trying, he doesn’t know how. “Fuck.”

“No, no, look, Billy, you’re okay, okay? It’s not...have you, uh—was that your first…”

Billy shakes his head. He shivers, jaw trembling. The cold air stings his cheeks, the damp spots on his neck, his collarbone, where tears have run and pooled. He aches all over. “I wanted—” he sucks in a breath, fumbling for respite, but his next is still a messy sob. “...wanted it to be different. With you. But I’m just—”

Steve blinks at him, his gaze searching, concern pinching creases all over his face. “Wanted what to be different? Did—did I do something…?”

Billy shakes his head again, vigorously this time, clutching Steve’s hands to his face. His vision swims.

“Okay…” Steve hesitates, waiting a beat before he touches his forehead to Billy’s. He breathes out slowly, eyes falling shut for a moment. “Okay. I’m taking you home. This can—this can wait, alright? Let’s just. Go home.”

The ride back to their apartment is quiet, the radio crooning some shitty ballad too quietly to hear the words, and the engine a dull roar bleeding into background noise. Steve’s car smells like pizza grease despite him only working delivery part time, but if Billy slouches far enough into the seat he can catch whiffs of the ambient Steve Smell underneath. The sweet smell of his shampoo and fabric softener that’s sunk into the upholstery over the years.

Billy stays hunkered down in his seat the whole ride home, and Steve, thankfully, doesn’t comment. However he does constantly cast glances in Billy’s direction, his hand on the centre console, tapping erratically. It puts Billy a little on edge.

But he’s exhausted. His eyes are dry, painfully dry, a raw, sandpapery ache that makes his impending hangover that much worse. So he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. Tries not to think too much.

He nearly falls asleep in the car, but they pull up to their building just as he starts to nod off.

Christ, it’s been a long day.

He would’ve passed out the second he pulled his bedding up ‘round his shoulders if it wasn’t for Steve lingering in the doorway.

“Ey…” Billy mumbles, squinting at the silhouette shifting from foot to foot, blocking the hallway light from shining in his eyes, then not, then... “Steeeve…” he whines, and turns his face away, burrowing into his pillow.

“You—uh, you good? Um. Like...everything, everything all, y’know—”

“Just c’mere. ‘N turn off the fuckin’ light.”

“Oh—okay, yeah. Yeah.”

There’s a soft click. The creak of floorboards. A muted thump, cloth hitting the floor. Billy nuzzles deeper into his bedding, keeping his face pressed firmly against his pillow while he waits with bated breath. His pillowcase smells sweaty. Or maybe it’s just because he didn’t shower before he threw on a pair of basketball shorts and collapsed into bed.

Any other night he might’ve been embarrassed. Annoyed at himself for slacking off. But tonight he’s just...vaguely aware of it. Like the faint buzzing of an insect in the next room.

He’s jostled when Steve crawls under the covers, dipping the mattress under his weight, knocking a knee into the back of Billy’s thigh with a muttered “Sorry, shit, sorry.” Billy grunts noncommittally in response, sliding his leg back and tapping Steve’s knee with it.

Steve settles, eventually. After tugging the sheets and wriggling around and rearranging his limbs and tugging the sheets some more. He settles. And Billy turns over to check if he’s asleep, only to end up face-to-face with him, wide-eyed and definitely awake.

“Hi,” he murmurs, almost shyly, blinking those big fucking doe-eyes at Billy all sweet and embarrassed. Billy kind of wants to scream. Or bury his face in his pillow again, that seemed to be working for him.

“Mhm,” Billy hums, and shifts to a cooler patch of pillowcase. It feels nice against his flushed cheek. His eyes drift shut, but he’s still keenly aware of Steve watching him. “What.”

“Oh, um. Nothing, I just...I really am sorry, y’know. About earlier.” He pauses, and Billy musters up the effort to crack an eye open to squint at him. He’s chewing the inside of his cheek, and his furrowed brow casts deep shadows in the gloom.

Billy reaches over and pokes between his eyebrows, surprising them both.

He used to tell his mom stories. Stupid kids’ game stuff, pretending to live in the ocean so they wouldn’t have to go home yet, telling her his stuffed rabbit made the mess in his room because he found out his plastic carrot wasn’t real and it upset him. Stuff like that. But her favourite was when he gave her blessings. When he found her drifting too deep into unpleasant thought, worry lines more prominent than ever, he’d tap her forehead. It was something he’d seen in a movie, maybe. Or at church. Some ritual he was bastardizing because he wanted to make his mom feel better. He’d tell her she was all cured now, because he could do magic. She didn’t have to worry anymore. And it always worked. She always smiled, and kissed his curls.

He stopped doing it when he got older. When Neil started in on make-belief being for babies and fairies. When his mother’s worries got to big for him to just tap away. Either way, it just...started feeling silly. Pointless.

He’d mostly forgotten about it ‘til now.

And it...works just as well as it used to. Steve looks a little bemused, sure, but he smiles, and there’s a fondness in it that floods some hollow place in Billy’s chest with warm fluttering.

“S’ok,” he says after a beat, feeling obligated to do something other than stare dumbly.

“And about, um, the kiss, too, if I—”

“Shh.” Billy covers Steve’s mouth, squishing his cheek a little in the process. “No.”

He’s not thinking about that right now. Not right now. He’s tired, he’s going to sleep...He’s not thinking about it.

He’s thinking about it a little.

It’s gonna catch up with him tomorrow, he knows it. All the shame and persistent doubts, and echoes of every speech his father has ever given about what a real man should be, and what teenage boy doesn’t think about it all the time— shitty things every friend he’s ever had has said to him. It’s all lurking, scratching at the door he’s too tired to open.

It’s hard not to press his ear up against it though. Just a little.

He pulls his hand away.

“I guess I should just, uh. Shut up and let you sleep then.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Right.” He goes silent for a beat. Two. Billy’s eyelids begin to droop. “Would it—can I, um. Would it be okay if I held you?”

Billy blinks at him. He wonders, vaguely, if the real question was will you start crying again if I touch you? but he bats that thought away. “Uh.”

“If you don’t want to—”

“Shh—” Billy flaps a hand in Steve’s direction, silencing him, before he shuffles closer.

He raises his eyebrows, and squirms closer again, pointedly. It takes a second but Steve gets the idea, with a gusty exhaled, “Oh,” he slips an arm over Billy and curls around him, knee brushing the front of Billy’s thigh this time, hand coming to rest on Billy’s bare back.

He jolts, and grumbles, “Jesus fuck—cold,” wriggling away from the offending fingers.

“Sorry.” There’s too much of a laugh in that apology. Billy headbutts Steve’s chest—very ineffectively—with an annoyed grunt. Which just makes Steve laugh more, but it’s kind of nice. Being able to feel it.

He drifts off listening to the quiet thumps of Steve’s heartbeat.

Waking up the next morning is disorienting. It happens slowly, in pieces. First he’s just barely conscious, aware of a splitting headache and little else besides the fact that it won’t let him drift back off into his blissfully dreamless sleep. He feels gummy and heavy all at once, his mouth dry and cottony.

Then, warmth. The sun streaming through his curtains. Blankets tucked around his shoulders. And…

He inhales. Honey and something softer, homey. Comforting.

Oh.

Oh god.

He opens his eyes. Which, ends up being a mistake, because it’s way too fucking bright to see anything, and the light hurts. He groans, turning his face away, and...yeah, that’s Steve’s chest. Okay. He’s just...rubbing his face all over Steve’s chest. That’s fine. And comfy. Hopefully Steve isn’t awake yet, ‘cause this on top of what he did last night—at least, what he’s pretty sure he did, some parts of it get very muddled and it’s way too early to be sifting through that shit with a fine-toothed comb—would be too fuckin’ much to deal with.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Goddamnit.

He doesn’t want to move. Maybe if he doesn’t move it’ll look like he’s not dying a slow embarrassed death over this.

“Mmng.”

Steve laughs quietly, and Billy has to restrain himself from nuzzling at the rumble in his chest like a spoiled lap cat. It’s fucking addictive, just existing in Steve’s space, curled up in his warmth and cradled like something precious.

There’s something different about it, different than when girls wanted to cuddle after sex, and he had to pretend to be reluctant, indulgent of their needs, instead of fucking desperate for some kind of contact that wasn’t full of intent, pain or pleasure. Contact that was just for the sake of touching. It was always a difficult thing to endure, the confused longing, and that itchy sort of creeping shame that came after. There was always some part of him that felt wrong, unsatisfied. Detached.

He has a sneaking suspicion that the difference here is that he feels safe with Steve. Which is somehow more embarrassing than preferring post-coidal spooning to the actual sex.

...That could also make a difference, come to think of it. That they didn’t have sex first.

Fuck, but he kissed Steve last night, didn’t he. He got sloppy fucking drunk because they were assholes to each other over nothing and of course that meant Billy had to run off and hide like a little bitch. And then make a fool of himself.

The more he remembers about the night before the less comfortable he feels.

He rolls over, off of Steve, turning away with no warning. The sudden movement is jarring, his headache spikes and his stomach gives an unpleasant lurch. He bites the inside of his cheek, grinding his teeth against the wave of nausea, pressing his forehead to cold sheets trying to will the hangover away.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” His voice comes out wavering and hoarse, which definitely doesn’t sell the lie.

The mattress creaks, and Steve pats his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

His hands are warm in the morning. It’s all Billy wants to think about as he listens to Steve’s retreating footsteps, but if life so far has been any indication, he doesn’t ever get what he wants.

He still doesn’t know how he’s going to explain what happened last night. It would’ve been easy enough to dismiss one drunken kiss if he hadn’t broke down sobbing afterwards.

It’s never been that bad before. He’s had moments, sure, driving home from some girl’s house with her perfume still clinging to his shirt collar and needing to pull over to dry heave into a ditch. Or the times when girls threw themselves at him at parties, in front of everyone, and he had to lock himself down enough to not recoil. He’d pretend and play along, and when he got a moment to himself he would escape to the nearest bathroom to hide until his skin stopped crawling.

He always sort of knew he didn’t like girls, though. All the shit that went with going through the motions was just the cost of survival.

But even his disappointing encounters with men weren’t...this.

Eric had just been an awkward and shitty first kiss. The guy he hooked up with before leaving California was...well, he was too busy nursing broken bones afterwards to think too much about how much the sex sucked.

That shit haunted him, late at night, when he started to wonder if he was really gay if he didn’t like getting his dick sucked, and he didn’t daydream about the way Steve looked in the shower after basketball practice. He didn’t think about anything in particular when he touched himself, and he only did that very rarely.

It bothered him, sure, but he’d never broken down sobbing in someone’s arms about it. Before last night.

Christ, it’s all so fucking stupid. Getting so twisted up about one goddamn kiss.

One kiss with Steve, though.

He sighs. That’s the fucking thing, isn’t it. It’s Steve. He was going to settle for being his roommate, his friend, but he had to get all goddamn jealous over Steve bringing girls home and make a thing out of it. And then...and then, what, tried to prove to Steve, to himself, that he could do that kind of shit for Steve if it meant having him, or...maybe he was just stupid drunk and hoping for something to finally click, or maybe he’s just a self-sabotoging moron who can’t stand having even a little bit of a good thing.

Well, good job with that, because he’s probably fucked up this little roommate arrangement by sticking his tongue in Steve’s mouth. Because now he’s going to have to explain that he doesn’t actually want to do that. And there’s really only one way that people tend to take that sort of revelation.

Fuck.

God-fucking-damnit.

His stomach clenches, rolls, another wave of nausea hits him, cold sweat and all, and he groans low into his bedsheets.

The hallway floorboards creak. “Hey, you still awake?” Steve calls out softly, footsteps approaching hesitantly. “I brought water. And aspirin. I was gonna make coffee but you always complain about my coffee, so. Maybe I could just buy you one later.”

Billy cracks an eye open, with some difficulty. It’s still blindingly bright, and his eyes are painfully dry. Steve is hovering at his bedside like some neurotic nursemaid, clutching a bottle of painkillers and eyeing Billy with a weird amount of trepidation. The seriousness of his expression is somewhat undercut by the fact that his bedhead makes him look like a baby bird.

“Thanks.” Billy winces at the sound of his own voice.

Sitting up is a bit of an ordeal, but the glass of water dribbling condensation on his bedside table is enough of an incentive to power through it. He’s eminently aware of Steve staring at him as he drinks, picking at the cuff of his too-long sleeve. He must’ve slipped into on his way to the kitchen, Billy could’ve sworn he wasn’t wearing it before. It’s oddly domestic, in a way that Billy’s almost gotten used to since they moved in together. Steve standing there bare-chested, his sweater unzipped and threatening to slip off his shoulder, the both of them sleep-rumpled.

Would be nice if it wasn’t for the massive headache and threat of impending doom.

“So...coffee? Later?”

“Hm?”

“Like, a date, maybe?”

Billy inhales his water.

Coughing hurts like a bitch—his brain does not approve of this much jostling—but at least it gives him an excuse to not say anything right away. Which...would theoretically be helpful, but he’s too jumbled up and anxious and hungover to come up with something coherent.

“I—” He blinks away tears, and clears his throat a couple times. Steve is messing with his hair way too much, and he can’t seem to look at Billy for more than a second or two. Christ, he didn’t think he’d fuck it up this quickly. “We—I. Can’t.” Yeah, that didn’t help.

Steve rocks back on his heels, one hand coming up to rub his elbow, unsteady fingers grasping for something to anchor him. “What—what do you mean can’t?” His voice sounds perilously close to breaking. All his effort seems to be going into keeping his voice steady, his face is a painfully open book.

“I mean…” Billy gestures helplessly, like if he waves his hand around enough he can magically fucking manifest a reasonable excuse. All it does is agitate him more. “It wouldn’t—work. It wouldn’t work. Okay?”

“Why not?”

His chest tightens, heart pounding. “It just fucking wouldn’t, Steve. We’re not—we’re just not...compatible, or whatever.” He grips the glass in his hand, knuckles whitening.

“I don’t…” Steve pauses, looks at the floor, blinking hard. “I don’t get it. We—Billy, you kissed me!”

“I know, and I regret it.” It just slips out. His throat constricts the second the words are out of his grasp, out of his control, out in the open between them, making even more of a fucking mess.

“Oh.”

It’s just one, tiny little sound, but it hits like a kick in the gut. Hearing Steve sound like that is...hard. So forlorn and resigned and disappointed and...fuck, Billy hasn’t heard him sound like that since he got high on Halloween and started spiralling into a despondent rant about his terrible luck with women.

Apparently his luck with men isn’t any better, Christ.

He should say something to fix it. Anything. Before Steve walks away and they just leave things like this, because he knows if they don’t hash it out now they’ll just bury it until it grows too many roots to ignore.

But he can’t lie. Steve will know if he lies. But the truth isn’t exactly comforting. So he’s stuck between two shitty options, backed into a corner and panicking. What else is fucking new.

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Steve looks two seconds away from running out of the room, he has to say something now.

“I’m not attracted to you,” he blurts, and the words feel sharper than they should, painful to force out, and Steve flinches when he hears them, retreating in on himself. “Fuck, I mean—I’m not—I don’t—I don’t know how to fucking say this.”

“It’s fine, you—you don’t have to—I, uh. I get it, okay. I got it.”

“You don’t.” Billy tugs on his tangled curls, groaning. His headache flares, and he hisses through his teeth. “God-fucking-damnit, Steve, would you sit down and just give me a second. Please.” It’s the please that gets through to him, Billy’s sure. He looks up at least, a glimmer of confusion in his big stupid sad eyes. “Steve. Please,” he repeats, his voice wavering.

Steve sits. Perched on the edge of the bed and still looking ready to bolt, but at least he’s sitting.

“It’s—it’s not just you.” Billy rubs some of the condensation off his glass, staring at the clean spot until droplets start to run through it. He concentrates on how they meander down the side, trying to keep his breathing steady. “I don’t even know what that shit’s supposed to feel like. ‘Cause I’ve never...there’s never been anyone I’ve looked at and thought, yeah, I’d fuck them, I just...I dunno.”

“But...didn’t you sleep around, like, a lot in high school?”

Billy winces.

“And what about that guy at the club?”

“I was trying to take your shitty advice, alright.”

“Wha—oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Billy waves a dismissive hand. Pauses. Forces himself to relax. He drops his hand into his lap and exhales quietly. “It’s not your fault,” he mutters. “I was being a dick. ‘Cause...I was jealous.”

He risks a glance. Steve is frowning at him like he just asked him to solve a math problem, corners of his mouth pinched, his brow deeply furrowed. It makes Billy’s fingers twitch, remembering the night before. A vague, dream-like memory of taking Steve’s worries away.

“Jealous of what?”

Of everyone’s who’s ever touched Steve. Everyone who’s ever wanted him like they were supposed to. Becky Woods, and Laurie whats-her-name, and Nancy fucking Wheeler. Every girl he brought to their apartment who left the morning after giggling and rosy-cheeked. The one last weekend who walked into the kitchen wearing Steve’s shirt and nothing else, and smiled at Billy like she hadn’t just ruined his morning.

Of Steve. For being able to have all that, and not even knowing how good he has it. How uncomplicated it is for him.

Billy sighs, and puts his water on the bedside table. “I found that annoying chick’s number in your pocket, alright. I grabbed your coat ‘cause it was near the door and I was just going out for a smoke, and. It was just...there. And it pissed me off.” He grits his teeth. “It was dumb, and I’m sorry.”

He waits. And sits there. And Steve just blinks at him. A few seconds pass that feel like an eternity. “I...but you said you didn’t…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m not sure I follow. No, I, uh. Yeah. I’m sure I don’t.”

“I said I didn’t want to fuck you, Steve, I didn’t say—fuck, it’s complicated.”

“Then why were you jealous, I—”

"Because I love you, okay?" Billy spits it out, in anger, too tangled up in frustration to think.

"Oh..." Steve’s lips part, jaw hanging slack as he stares. The corner of his mouth twitches, tugging upwards into something that's almost a smile, but it dims immediately. "Uh, like, as—as a friend?"

Billy groans, dropping his head into his hands. "Jesus Christ...no." It's muffled against his palms. His fingertips dig into his eyelids. Of course that’s what he’d think. “No. Like, I want to date you, and hold your goddamn hand, and all the stupid fucking sappy shit, but, but not—God, I shouldn't have fucking said anything. I'm not—I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend. I might be a selfish prick but I wouldn't do that to you."

There's a long horrible pause. Long enough that Billy wonders if that's that. The end of the conversation. It's a terrifying thought.

He startles when a soft touch brushes his knee.

"What if I wanna be your boyfriend?"

Billy’s heart skips, twisting in his chest. Hope. Traitorous hope. He's fucking weak, but he still manages to force out. "You don't,” wincing at how small and plaintive he sounds.

"I do."

Billy rubs his eyes, blowing out a harsh breath. He steels himself. "Steve, there's a real chance I might never, ever, be willing to fuck you." He sits up, hands curling loosely into fists and falling to his sides. His shoulders tense, aching, and clenching his jaw made his head pound. "There wouldn't be any more bringing random chicks home, and I wouldn't be picking up the slack. What exactly do I bring to the table that would make up for asking you to go steady with your right hand?"

Steve huffs a tiny, humourless laugh. "You love me."

Billy turns his head away, deflating a little. "Yeah, so?"

"So. I'll be okay. That's...more than I've had with anyone else."

"That’s—fuck off, Harrington," he splutters, "What happens when you find someone who can give you both, huh? I'm not—I'm not gonna be a fucking placeholder while you wait for some bitch—"

"Billy—" Steve leans in close, and Billy falls silent, mesmerized by the determined glint in his eye. He waits, anxious, blindly tapping his thumbnail while he holds his breath. "I fell in love with you the day we moved in together, because—because you labelled all your boxes so goddamn neatly, but everything you packed was all...messy and piled up like you'd just tossed it in, and, and you got so annoyed when I mixed up kitchen shit, and you cared enough to make sure I stayed hydrated but you wouldn't admit that's what you were doing, and...I realized just how much I wanted to live with you, like, make a life with you. Yeah, I wanted, I want, all the...other stuff, but I don't need it. I swear, okay, I don't need it. I just wanna be with you."

"You...are a relentless fuckin' sap, you know that?" Billy's voice breaks, and he tries his best to sniffle quietly. "What if it isn't enough. What if you wake up one day and realize you haven't gotten your dick wet in months and it's just un-fuckin-bearable. Where does that leave me. I can't—I can't fucking do this if..." The words stick in his throat.

Steve opens his mouth. closes it again. blinks. He looks down at his hands, the beginnings of a shy smile playing at his lips. "You want me to be in it for the long haul."

"That's—" Billy stutters to a stop, cheeks warm. "Not what I said." Technically.

"But it's what you meant."

Fuck.

Fuck it, he’s gotten this far.

"And if it was?"

Steve folds his arms across his stomach, grasping at the elbows of his sweater, plucking at the stitching. He’s still smiling, but there’s a melancholy to it that hurts to look at. "Then I'd tell you the one night stands were never about sex. Yeah, I like that part, but I just...get tired of being alone. Y’know, sleeping alone. And...you were always...I thought you were off-limits, but you were always around, and just out of reach. So—so I, uh, sometimes I need someone, I guess. To be there."

"Shit," Billy mutters. Pauses. Suddenly he can't think of a single damn reason why he's still sitting a foot away when he knows exactly how that feels and now he knows there’s something he can do about it.

He shuffles forward til their knees touch, sheets bunched up around his waist and tangled between them, and takes Steve's hands. The look Steve gives him turns his insides to mush, half a smile that's all doe-eyes and a gentleness that always makes him ache.

“I don’t know how to do any of this shit, y’know.”

Steve brings one of Billy’s hands up and presses a brief kiss to his knuckles. “We’ll figure it out.” He glances at Billy through his lashes. “Can, um, can I kiss you? Is that okay?”

A spike of anxiety lances through him. He chews the inside of his lip. Braces himself. “I, uh. Yeah, okay.”

Neither of them move for a moment. There’s something searching about Steve’s gaze, the way it wanders over his face, like he’s trying to see right through him. Like he can see right through him. When Steve starts to lean in he’s slow, cautious, watching Billy the whole time.

Steve untangles their fingers, and reaches up to cup Billy’s face, stroking his cheekbones. When he presses his lips to Billy’s it’s chaste, and brief. He pulls back almost immediately. “Still okay?”

“Yeah,” Billy breathes out, feeling oddly jittery, flushed. When Steve kisses him again it’s only on the corner of his mouth. Then his cheek. He’s soft about it, gentle, and deliberate, like he’s on a mission. His fingers slip into Billy’s curls, minding the tangles, just brushing them away from his face. Something warm flutters in his chest, butterflies replacing the anxious twist in his stomach. When he melts into the next press of Steve’s lips, he feels them curve into a smile.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

#stranger things #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #asexual billy hargrove #ace billy #ace headcanon #a raven's writing desk

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mrs-march-ahs · 4 years

Note

Hi! I have a request~ The Evans reactions to losing in any sort of game. Can be board games or video games 😅

The Evans Losing At Games

Headcannons for all, imagines for some!

Cute idea, thank you! I didn’t write much for Jimmy, I’m sorry Jimmy I love you<3

Enjoy:)

Tate

-Clearly a teenage boy who lets emotions build up a lot -Definitely cheats if he’s had enough -If he keeps losing in the same part of the video game and rage quits, it takes him forever to get back into the game - “Ohhhh… I forgot that’s where I let off… fuck it” (quits) -Much better and calmer at playing cards, and generally prefers games were the two of you can talk and he doesn’t have to focus too much

You laid on your bed, scrolling aimlessly through social media, and occasionally glancing at Tate playing a video game he hasn’t played in a while. When you started talking about games, and you told him you had it, he nostalgically reminisced how much he used to play it when he was alive, so you set it up for him. Every few minutes, when a red screen would pop up, Tate would sigh, and with every passing death, his sighs got louder and angrier.

After only maybe half an hour of playing, Tate clearly couldn’t take it anymore, and threw the control towards the floor, before stomping over to shut the console and TV off. The sound made you flinch, and you had never seen Tate angry before. Nor his body language nor face showed his emotions, just his actions, and when he flopped by your side, he looked fine. If somebody had come in right now, they would just see two teenagers laying next to each other.

“Uhhh… you okay?”, you ask, before rolling over to face him. You poke at his chubby cheek as he stares up at the ceiling and tease him. “Sore loser”.

“Shut up, it’s your fault. You reminded me why I wasn’t allowed to play this game for very long”.

“Wanna play something else? Together? We could play Dragon Ball Z?”, you ask quietly, before going back to your childish sing-song teasing. “Be nice, and I’ll even let you win a few times!”

Tate looks over at you and huffs, before sitting up and getting the controllers, “Good thing you’re used to begging me for mercy”

Kit

-Least sore loser out of them all -Always up for a rematch -He’s pleasant even when he does win - “Want a rematch sugar? So you can have another shot at beating me?” - “Ah you were close, you’re getting good” - “You’re a good rival” - “If I lose, you can drag me to that Rom Com you wanted to see” - “If I win, we make more babies” -Pretends to be competitive when he’s playing with the kids - “I would say Team Girls vs Team Boys… but that’s not fair, the two of you don’t even stand a chance, right Tommy?” -If one of the kids beat him, he’d act super dramatically to give them as much satisfaction of winning -Laser tag is 34 years before Kit’s time, but if he played something like that, he’d try to let the kids win

You ran around the garden and chased a giggling Julia. Because of current financial issues, the power was out, but not wanting to worry the children to much, and not wanting them to ask too many questions, you and Kit decided to make the most of the sun and tire them out before it got dark. Kit, being the big kid he is, suggested playing a tag-like game Thomas invented, where you each get three pebbles each, and try to get each other out by throwing them. Gently. Unless you were throwing them at Kit.

Julia started slowing down when she reached the corner of the house, hoping to hide from you, but you were right behind her, making her turn around and burst out in giggles. When the 5-year-old laughed, the only thing you could see was the missing tooth she donated to the tooth fairy last night. Once you circled all around the house, you come back in view of the garden, and see Julia hiding behind Kit.

“That’s cheating!”, he exclaims, trying to run away from her and toss a pebble in her direction, only for her to do it faster. The second Julia’s tiny rock hits Kit’s tummy and bounced, he put his hands over his stomach and held it like a gun wound. He dropped to the floor dramatically, leaving the two little kids to die of laughter, and you walk over to him, Kit peeping open one eye slightly to see if you were watching him, and then stuck his tongue out to play dead. You picked up a stick from the floor and poked at his chest, making Kit chuckle but quickly hide it.

“Is it dead?”, you ask.

Thomas leans in closer to look at his dad on the floor, before Kit opens his eyes and pulls Tommy to the floor with him, rolling over to be on top of him.

“I win!”, Kit announces, before kissing his son on the cheek.

Franken Kyle

-He doesn’t particularly play complicated games, but he isn’t too patient and gets frustrated with himself pretty easily -If on one of his educational games, he messes something up too many times in a row, he’ll shut off the game and throw the tablet on the bed -He’ll avoid even looking at it -If he loses a tickle fight he’ll sit and whine, straddle you and then tickle you until you beg him to stop -Whines even if he loses at rock paper scissors -He likes colouring and drawing, and because it’s good for his motor skills, the two of you made a really simple game together -You drew out a long snake shape on a big piece of paper and drew lines in between for the spaces -Kyle carefully coloured them in with pencil and with a marker you wrote occasional things like ‘Go back two spaces’ or ‘Go forward three spaces’ -Sweet little Ky would roll the dice, and take his time, pushing his little figurine, which was something like a pencil sharpener or a bottle cap, and counted out the spaces -Got super excited if he won, but wouldn’t mind losing -He would insist the two of you keep playing, and you’re only allowed to stop and go to bed if you end on him winning -Sometimes he would try to let you win so that you could keep playing -Whine and pout if you had to stop playing, and how are you meant to say no to him? -You would have to promise you’ll play tomorrow -You’d be able to slowly make more and more complicated games, until eventually he’d be able to play things like checkers or Ludo

Jimmy

-Lowkey a sore loser -If there were loads of different people playing, he would be a lot more friendly -If he lost, he would still be super annoyed, but just wouldn’t show it -But if it was the two of you, he’d be super competitive -The type of person to flip the board game if he was losing -But he’d apologise straight away and pout if you didn’t want to play with him again - “C’mon let’s play again, I’ll be nice this time” - “Loser gets spanked” -Loves playing games like beer pong

James

-Unpleasant loser but also not a pleasant winner -Bitter compliments if you win at cards - “Well done darling, who would have thought with your high school education you were such a poker master” -Only willing to play the same 5 card games, because if you teach him a new board game he is not familiar with and he loses, he’ll claim it’s only because he’s new to the game -Absolutely infuriated if he loses at Monopoly, since he built a hotel after all -Don’t even bother trying to teach him how to play a video game -And of course - “Only amateurs keep score”

“What are you doing, dear?”, James said, fascinated at your little character wandering around a shop, on the screen in front of both of you.

“I’m trying to buy this plant, but I don’t have enough money, I want to see if I can sell anything I have”, you explain, pointing at your backpack filled with items that you can exchange for spare coins.

“Nonsense, darling, why don’t you simply stab the storekeeper and steal what you desire?”

“Because this is Animal Crossing, James, there isn’t a stab button”

Kai

-Kai likes playing video games or board games with literally anybody apart from you -He likes playing with Ozzy because he’s a kid so most of the time Kai can beat him easily -Definitely not the type of person to let the kid win, even if Ozzy is sobbing and Ally asks him to let Ozzy win once in a while - “Winning fairly will feel so much better for him” - “He won’t appreciate success if he doesn’t first taste failure” -Sometimes instead of story time with his troops he’ll play some board games -At first, everybody will keep letting Kai win out of fear -But eventually someone will win, and everybody else will be fearful for them, scared Kai will be angry - “Finally somebody capable, somebody strong, not scared to show their true capabilities” -But if you ask him to play a game with you, he probably won’t -If you eventually beg enough that he will agree to play a game with you, he’ll tell you he’s only playing one -If you win, he’ll be like, “Okay, are you happy now?” - “Finally it’s over” - “I let you win, are you happy?” -But if he wins, he’ll try to get you to play a few more games - “Are you giving up already?” - “Don’t be a sore loser, rise up to the challenge” - “I assumed you wanted to win, not just to play”

- (Kai loses) “See… you have to give a humiliated man a chance to redeem himself in his own ey-”

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frostsong · 2 years

Text

9—11: (EC) UNFAIR.

adjective: unkind, inconsiderate, or unreasonable.

rating: g

characters: original characters, friend’s oc, samson warren, radegonde greystone, euphemie de dansereau

tags: slice of life, family, ft. samphie’s 2 twin girls, talking about apples, sammie belongs to sky (tysm for letting me borrow him & the girls!!)

summary: even during a brief respite, the warrior of light feels restless. takes place after patch 6.2 in the msq.

wordcount: 745

”You’re going where now?”

Incredulously, Radegonde peered at him, seated on the playroom floor where the twins sat beside her, cooing and toddling amidst the toys strewn around them.

“The thirteenth,” Samson hissed between teeth clenched in a smile. The last thing he wanted to talk about was work, but he was simply too polite for his own good—and did his best not to leave any questions unanswered. Besides, with his sister-in-law he knew the topic would circle back around eventually…

“Weren’t you just in the first not long ago—“ Gondie winced as a fistful of her long hair was yanked by her giggling niece. He frowned and stooped to his knees, gathering the child up as he continued:

“I was. This is different.”

“I should hope it involves less of that ancient nonsense.” Radegonde frowned as the other girl crawled onto the dark skirts of her aunt’s lap, reaching for a brightly-painted rook toy not far from her grasp.

“It doesn’t seem that way.” Samson relished in the girl’s toothless smile as he handed her the toy, while the other in his lap toothed on the tail of a stuffed wyrmling.

“…And I doubt anything called the thirteenth means you’ll be taking them with you anytime soon.” He grew quiet at the words he’d known and ruminated on since he’d returned, this time with Zero in tow. After discussing with Vrtra and Y’shtola they had decided it best to wait before having her accompany him back home to Ishgard, as it’d still been relatively early since she awoke. He couldn’t begin to comprehend how different everything must have been to her, but then again, they now learned that the Void had formerly been as vibrant as the Source; it was chilling to think back on the fate they had so narrowly avoided. Samson was grateful they’d survived the ordeal—he just couldn’t shake the feeling of how hopelessly unfair it seemed, that such ceaseless sacrifice was asked of him.

The girls had only seen their first summer, and yet Samson felt at odds with everything else thrust upon his shoulders that everyone expected of him—that Eorzea needed of him. How he wished he could’ve been home with his family as much as he’d wanted; while this wasn’t the idyllic life he’d once considered back when he was but a boy in the La Noscean countryside he was stalwart in protecting what he had now, and he would never surrender it for anything else.

“...We brought back a friend.” He pivoted her question—and she seemed happy to oblige him, though the look in her eyes said otherwise.

“So I heard.”

“Likes apples…” Gondie blinked.

“Maybe that’s why Peep loves his apple pie.” The darling little Deepeye that often followed at her ankles proved more friendly than his housemate Gus. Any minute now, Sam believed he would hover by and demand affection in the form of chin-scritches or treats.

“I was thinking we should let her try apples in different forms, too. Maybe we can get Puddingway and—”

“I don’t recall applesauce being pudding.” The other girl, still secure in her aunt’s lap, had exchanged the rook for a toy unicorn.

“I think it’s close enough. Apple pudding…”

“I would imagine it’s smoother—like cream.” The one in his hold turned her attention to the other dragon—this time, colored red instead of blue, but with the same sewn buttons as eyes—and discarded the latter on the floor by her father’s knee.

“We can even have one of them test it. They should be old enough, right?”

“I…would ask the physician first.” He coughed while the girl on his lap stared up at him, as if on cue—big bright eyes like her mother’s. The same eyes he had trouble refusing.

“They’ll probably end up liking it anyway.” Radegonde gestured to a servant and offered up the girl, standing and brushing the skirts of her indigo dress.

“I still don’t want them to get sick…” Samson murmured as he watched her stretch with a yawn.

“Anyway. Good luck with the thirteenth and all—let me know if you find any more deepeyes or anything I should know about them.” With a wave of her hand she headed for the door. Lackadaisical as ever—if not slightly more callous than the way Euphie carried herself. Samson couldn’t help but smile and laugh in spite of himself, offering his left arm and allowing the servant to cede the other twin girl into his hold.

#ffxivwrite2022 #eggpens #soulsow #samson warren #radegonde greystone

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

Flufftober - Day 9

9 - Text messages

Pairing: Loki x GN! reader

Word count: 2,1K

Tags and warnings: everyone is just a little bit toxic. Fluff or angst? A bit of both. Alternating genres (between text message format and normal narrative format).

THIS IS DIVIDED IN 2 PARTS BECAUSE I NEED TO UPLOAD MORE THAN 10 IMAGES :)

Part 2 here.

This oneshot is both based in the prompt for @flufftober2021 's event, and from a prompt generator page I cannot for the LIFE OF ME find. I'm sorry. The randomly generated prompt is:

A violinist, who has a horrible sense of direction. SECONDARY CHARACTER A prince, who is awkward. PLOT It's a contemporary romance story about second chances. It kicks off in Texas with an awkward silence that was just brought on by car karaoke. (Note that: someone in the story has never believed in love.) And there's a twist! You should write this story from the POVs of both protagonists.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me”.

Loki eyed the traffic from the passenger’s seat and his gaze went back to his phone in a matter of seconds. You grabbed with clenched fists the wheel —that’s been unused for the past hour and a half— and wondered what was so interesting in that goddamn phone of his.

“What time was the concert, again, darling?”, he asked without much interest. Your violin rested on the backseat knowing very well it would be untouched for the rest of the evening. At this time, it was impossible you’d make it to the concert in time.

“You know, if you just had kept your eyes on the road, maybe you would’ve helped me with your magnificent sense of direction and I wouldn’t have gotten us stuck in this forsaken traffic”, you sighed, and he chuckled.

“Don’t blame me for your own faults”.

“Well, there’s nothing else to do”.

Loki turned off the screen of his phone and let it rest over his lap. He stared at you, and you looked at him back with raised eyebrows.

“Let’s talk. Friend to friend”.

You rolled your eyes.

“What would you want to talk about?”.

“We could talk about anything. Tell me about this concert”.

You looked at the violin once again, and sighed out in frustration. This concert was nothing special compared to others you’ve played at, except that you had finally gathered enough courage to ask Loki to come.

So many years through your friendship, and he’s never reciprocated your feelings, yet you still were there, trying in silence, as badly as only you knew how. He wouldn’t catch the hints because you barely threw any. The poor man would have no idea if you actually confessed your love right there —but love wasn’t in the cards either. Because you tried and tried, and even with men who did like you back, it wouldn’t work. You were starting to give up on it.

Love, for you, was whatever feeling you had for Loki, and you knew it’d be eternally incomplete —love was feeling frustrated.

But you tried to keep him close anyway. You wanted to surprise him. “Look at how well I play the violin while I hope you fall in love with me for my talent”, or something like that.

“It’s stupid, really”, you sighed out. You could just play it for him on the compound, one of those nights you’d spend in the library, talking and reading like only the two of you knew how. “Sorry I just took it out on you”.

“It’s okay”, he smiled, and his phone rang with a message. He got surprised and had to pretend like he didn’t want to read it, trying to keep the conversation with you. “What would you have played?”.

“It’s alright if you want to take it”, you said, and it was now your phone that rang. “Oh, could it be a mission?”, you wondered while grabbing yours and reading the notification. To your surprise, it was Bucky.

You looked at it and didn’t answer. Loki peeped in and you rapidly turned the screen off.

“You’re still avoiding Barnes”, he stated. Not a question, an observation. Maybe even an accusation.

“Not avoiding. I just don’t know what to say”.

“Maybe ‘hey’ him back”, he proposed. You groaned and took the phone out again, typing out the answer for Loki to shut up. He had been so insistent about your relationship with Bucky.

“What does he say?”, he asked after a few seconds of waiting.

“God, why do you care so much about what I talk about with him?”, you rolled your eyes.

“I care because you don’t talk at all, and you should”, he said. His phone and yours rang at the same time, and when you checked it, it was from the group chat. They were talking nonsense, as always, and neither Loki nor you had paid much attention to it.

“My oaf of a brother does not know how to write on this thing yet. It’s been months, it surprises me greatly his incapability to adapt”.

You laughed.

You looked at the screen bewildered, and turned around in confusion. Your violin was right there. What was Bucky talking about? Loki chuckled darkly.

“It appears someone is trying to catch your attention”.

“He’s just annoying me. I’ll ignore him”.

“I’ll take care of it”, he muttered.

You looked at his face of confusion, his nose scrunched up in a little frown.

“He doesn’t know I’m here with you”.

“He… doesn’t”, you admitted.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to know you were taking Loki instead of him. It was that, along your relationship with Bucky, he had noticed how big of a crush you had on the God. It was painfully obvious, and that made him jealous to the bone, breaking the relationship in a matter of months. So you kept these things for yourself, just in case Bucky was in for the drama.

"Why not? He'll get wrong ideas".

"What wrong ideas? You're my friend".

"Right".

“What is Wanda talking about?”, you smirked. “Private conversation?”.

“She’s delusional”, he brushed it off. But you peeped on his own screen, and took a quick glance at it. You could only read a message from Wanda saying “just do what we talked about”, and his answer, “under no circumstances”.

You decided to text Bucky. What is the loss, otherwise? Not confronting him maybe could make him even more suspicious. Suspicious of what, anyways? Firstly, Loki and you weren't a thing. Secondly, Bucky and you weren't either. Not anymore.

You huffed out in frustration and tossed the phone away. Loki looked at you without much idea of what to say.

“So, you do talk”.

“It’s not exactly great”.

“What’s his problem with me?”, he frowned. You blushed —he clearly read the whole conversation.

“He’s jealous of you”, you chuckled, trying to keep it the least of a lie possible. He’d notice immediately otherwise.

“Jealous of me for what? He’s the one that dated you”, he said, and immediately turned to face you, wide-eyed, “not that I mean I’m the one that should be jealous. I just mean that he’s been… you’ve dated and we’re friends, so, it’s…”, and he sighed. You chuckled again. “You know what I mean”.

“I guess I do”.

“So? Why are you two being so stubborn?”, he asked, and you rolled your eyes again. It was impossible to avoid. If Bucky wasn’t texting you all the time, Loki was insisting on you getting again with him.

“I’m just no longer interested in him. Gosh, you’re taking it worse than he is”.

“You surely can’t be serious. It’s because he messed up, didn’t he? What did he do?”.

“He didn’t do anything”.

“So, you’re not up to second chances”, he sighed, and you texted Wanda while talking to him.

“I don’t believe in second chances”, you admitted, eyes still on Wanda's chat.

“Why?”.

“If love is dead, it’s dead. You can’t bring people back from the dead, much less a feeling”.

“You don’t even believe in love”, he straightened his back.

“If you think so, then why do you want me to be with Bucky so bad?”.

“I don’t want you to be with him”, he scoffed. “You’re in love with him and you need to be with the person you love. Otherwise, you’ll feel sad and unfulfilled all the time”.

You laughed sarcastically. He frowned, and saw how you looked at him. With that look that said ‘anything you want to talk about, friend?’. Because sometimes Loki would give advice to others when it’s actually him who should be taking them.

“So you’re in love with someone”, you pointed out, and his face gave you nothing, not a single expression. “Don’t ignore me”.

"Let's go back to Bucky's subject".

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson @theaudacitytowrite @bi-andready-tocry @alorev @justasmisunderstoodasloki @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson )

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vs-redemption · 4 years

Note

Hi, its me! Im sorry for bothering you! How would Bakugou, Aizawa, and Iida react if some random kid, who had their eyes but different hair, who looks homeless and IS homeless, knockef on their door and said 'hey, do you know *insert womans name*? Youre my dad apparently' and it turns iut it was a woman they had a flimg with, who left them, and went on to abusr their kid? Like severely? Its just me projecting lol. Im so sorry have a great day!

A/N: I noticed that @madkaleidoscope got almost the same request while going through the my hero tags, so please check out their post HERE for another take on the same idea.

A Surprise Meeting (Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario for Todoroki and Dabi HERE You can read the same scenario for Hawks, Fatgum, and Shigaraki Here

Warning:⚠️Mentions of child abuse and homelessness. Also, swearing for Bakugo!⚠️

Bakugo

“What the hell do you mean they were offended?” Bakugo growls at his manager through the phone propped up on his shoulder as he aggressively chops up vegetables for the stew he was making. “Instead of being grateful that I saved their asses, they decided to file a complaint against me huh?”

The underpaid person on the other end launches into an explanation about why a top ranked pro hero should avoid yelling out expletives while fighting villains in front of a crowd of civilians. Apparently it wasn’t an appropriate way to behave in front of impressionable children and elderly folks. Bakugo rolled his eyes as he continued cooking. He’d heard this spiel a hundred times before. He’d honestly worked hard over the years to improve the way he directly interacted with the innocent people he fought to protect every day, but he couldn’t help but get a little overzealous in the moment when taking down bad guys.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance when his doorbell suddenly rang. He wiped his hands off on a towel before going to tell off whoever it was that was interrupting his very limited free time. It was bad enough he was already getting an earful from his manger while he was trying to relax. He ripped open the door and felt a hint of surprise when he had to lower his angry red eyes to find the unexpected visitor. It was a little girl.

“What the hell?” Bakugo leaned out of the doorway a bit to look for an adult that might be accompanying the child but she seemed to be all alone. His manager paused their lecture to ask if he was all right. “Yeah, but I’m going to have to call you back,” Bakugo hangs up the phone and looks back at the little girl who was glaring up at him with familiar red eyes. Her long dark hair was dirty and matted. She had scrapes and bruises all over her arms and face.

“Do you need help or something?” Bakugo asks awkwardly as he tries to slip into his comforting hero voice. “Where are your parents?”

“Mommy left and didn’t come back,” the little girl scowls and crosses her arms. She then tells Bakugo her mother’s name, causing the man to freeze up in shock at the implication. “She said you were my daddy.” Bakugo just stands speechless for a few moments as his brain tries to catch up with what he’d just heard. He knew the girl’s mom, but he hadn’t seen her in about four years. They’d had a bit of a summer romance right at the beginning of his hero career before she’d suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Bakugo lets his eyes scan over the little girl once more. He couldn’t deny she had his eyes and his scowl. He felt irritated that his summer fling hadn’t even had the decency to tell him she’d gotten pregnant. He squats down to look more closely at the dirt and injuries all over the girl’s body.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, trying to keep the gruffness from his voice. Some emotion cracks through the little girl’s false bravado then and she looks down at her bare feet shyly.

“Mommy…” she whispers. Bakugo takes a deep breath to calm the rage that boiled up inside him and offers a hand to the little girl.

“Mommy left me too,” he confesses. “But she’s not going to hurt either of us ever again, okay?” The little girl looks up at her dad, a tentative hope blossoming in her eyes. Bakugo knew this was going to impact his life in a huge way, but at the moment he only cared about getting to know his daughter and making up for lost time. “Are you hungry?” The little girl nods her head eagerly and he leads her into his apartment. He would get her cleaned up and fed before getting started on all the legal stuff he’d undoubtedly have to endure before she could really be his daughter completely. His mind was already coming up with ways to fit parenting into his work schedule though, and he found himself looking forward to spending as much time with his little girl as possible.

Iida

Iida assumed he was going to have another normal morning as he sat at his desk, looking over his patrol route for the day. He’d taken over his family’s hero agency not too long ago, but he was already used to the daily routine. All the experiences he’d lived through during high school, not to mention growing up in a family of heroes, had prepared him for most scenarios he would encounter as a pro. He had no reason to suspect that anything out of the ordinary would happen, even as he heard the knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he calls out while standing up to start putting on his hero costume. The door blasts open and a young girl runs into the room.

“Daddy!” she shouts as she runs right up to him and throws her arms around his waist. Iida looks down at the girl in shock before glancing towards the door where one of his sidekicks stood looking as confused as he felt.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” the sidekick says a bit awkwardly. “One of the interns found her wandering outside. She was asking people to help her find you, her dad.”

Iida wanted to deny the claim immediately. He would definitely know if he had a child, especially one who looked to be around eight years old. The idea became a lot less preposterous as he looked back down at the girl. Her hair color was as white as snow, a complete contrast to his dark blue. The thing that gave him pause were the two legs sticking out from under the dirty skirt the girl was wearing. Her legs looked skinny, too skinny, aside from her calves which had tiny exhaust pipes sticking out of them. The girl looks up at him after a moment to meet his gaze. His breathe catches in his throat at her blue eyes and checkmark shaped eyebrows that were iconic to the Iida family.

“Uh, thank you,” Iida felt flustered as he looks back at his sidekick who was blatantly starting at him in shock. “I’ll handle this from here. Do you mind asking someone to take over my patrol?” The sidekick accepts the job and hurries off, leaving Iida alone with the girl. Part of him felt really embarrassed that this had happened in front of his coworkers. He couldn’t imagine what they must think of him now. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to be involved with something that could be perceived as scandalous.

“What is your mother’s name?” Iida asks, even though he was sure he already knew. The list of possibilities was very small. The little girl goes up on her tiptoes and Iida bends down to meet her so she can whisper in his ear. He sighs heavily at the name that falls from her lips. It was just further confirmation that this wasn’t some crazy misunderstanding. The information settles into his mind. He was a father.

“Please don’t make me go back to her though,” the girl’s eyes brim with tears as she searches Iida’s face for comfort. “She’s scary.” Iida understood how the girl felt. If given the option, he would choose never to see that woman again either. She had only dated him for a brief time, pretending to be in love with him in order to take advantage of his fame until she found someone higher up in the ranks to seduce. He had been so shocked and heart broken when she’d left him so suddenly, but now there was no way to hide from that mistake of his past.

“Why do you say she’s scary?” Iida asks while putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She winces and flinches away from his touch. He narrows his eyes in concern and asks her to roll up her sleeves. His heart fills with sadness at the welts marring her frail arms. “I see,” he frowns. “I promise you won’t have to see her again if you don’t want to, but can you tell me where she lives?”

“I don’t know. We always have to sleep outside,” the girl explains warily, painting a rather sad image of her life.

“Well that just won’t do,” he pats her on the head. “I’m going to make sure you have a comfy, warm bed to sleep in from now on.” The girl’s face lights up happily and she hugs Iida even tighter. The shame he’d felt initially was gone now, replaced by a determination to provide his daughter with the best life possible.

Aizawa

Between all his hero work and being a full time teacher, Aizawa’s opportunities to simply sleep for a couple consecutive hours were few and far between. He took any chance he could to just shut his eyes and rest for a while. Tonight he’d hoped to get a decent amount of sleep in before having to wake up at the crack of dawn to attend a UA staff meeting. However, it seemed fate had other plans for him.

It was around one in the morning when a knock on his front door pulled him from the depths of his much needed slumber. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes as he rolled out of bed, not even having the energy to be annoyed. “Who is it?” He asks while putting on his slippers and shuffling over to the door. There was no answer, so he pressed his face up to the peep hole. He let out a groan when he saw a random kid standing outside. If this was some kind of prank, he wasn’t sure he had the strength of mind to deal with it at this hour. He already put up with a whole class of teenagers every day who drained him of every drop of patience he had.

“Can I help you?” Aizawa mumbles after opening the door. The young boy in front of him looked to be about thirteen years old. The ends of his dark burgundy hair were frayed and had been cut sloppily as if he’d done it himself. He had outgrown his clothes a while ago, and they appeared uncomfortably small on his skinny frame. The poor kid looked extremely dirty and smelled even worse.

“Do you know this woman?” the haggard boy holds out an old photograph of a person Aizawa recognized immediately. It had been a very long time, but he’d never forget the face of the first woman he’d ever been with. He’d been so young and naïve at the time, and he still felt bitter toward the friend who’d set him up with a woman with such an atrocious personality. Aizawa knew right then and there that he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“This is my mother,” the boy states the obvious fact. “And apparently you’re my dad.” Aizawa had no reason not to believe him as he looked into the boy’s tired eyes that matched his own. It was clear that life had not been kind to the kid so far.

“Come on in,” Aizawa invites his son inside, deciding to wait to involve the proper authorities until morning. “You can take a hot shower, and I think I have some leftovers we can heat up.”

“A shower?” the boy looked overwhelmed, as if the promise of a shower was more than he’d ever dared to hope for. Aizawa was growing more concerned with each passing second.

“Where is your mother now?” He asks and the boy shrugs.

“I haven’t seen her in a couple weeks,” he states as if that were normal. “I think she met some new guy.” That was enough to put Aizawa’s teeth on edge.

“Where have you been staying then?” he asks.

“Wherever I can,” the boy replies, sounding embarrassed. “Park benches, bus stops, train stations…” Aizawa was horrified. What kind of person left their child to survive in those conditions? Why hadn’t she ever reached out to him for help?

“What are these?” Aizawa reaches out to snatch up the boys arm. Now that he was inside where the lighting was better, he could see strange scars and scabs covering his skin.

“Cigarette burns,” the boy pulls his arm away and averts his eyes. “Mom thought it would make people more willing to help when I had to beg for money.” Aizawa felt his eyes fill with tears at the words, and he doesn’t think twice before pulling his son into his arms. The boy returns the embrace, clinging to Aizawa as if he feared the man might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“What’s going to happen now?” the boy asks fearfully after he calms down a bit.

“You’re more than welcome to stay with me,” Aizawa finds himself accepting the role of father rather quickly. He was already responsible for so many kids already, he didn’t see the harm in adding one more to the list. “If that’s something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yes, please!” The boy nods his head, looking ecstatic as he wiped away his tears. Aizawa nods his head and pats his son on the shoulder.

“Well then kid,” he says with a small smile. “Welcome home.”

------

Aizawa Tag List: @clovertitan @raine-needs-help @lucacangettathisass @lea2107-foxsin @tiaraowens

#Katsuki Bakugo #Tenya Iida #Shota Aizawa #Bnha #Mha #bnha imagines #mha imagines #Writing Requests #Cindy's Writing #katsuki bakugou #aizawa shouta #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios

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sodalitefully · 3 years

Text

Cat!Slash is back with Part 4, and it's as sweet & sappy as ever! This is the first of two oneshots that I'm adding to this AU, the second one is still in the works but I expect it to be the next thing I post. To catch up on the cat!Slash AU, check out my masterlist!

In this installment, Slash comes to an incorrect conclusion, and Duff gets a little better at reading Slash's emotions. Hope you enjoy & please lmk what you think!

It could have been a dog collar, Slash reminded himself.

It could have been... but it probably wasn’t.

The collar was black leather, about an inch wide, in good condition, and big enough to fit a catpet. No tags, no scuff marks, just some wear on the inside where the smooth leather would have fit snugly around its wearer’s neck. Slash was laying on his back on the couch, turning the collar over and around in his hands above his head, examining it closely even though none of the details he observed made him any happier.

Slash found the collar in an unlabeled cardboard box, filled with all the other junk that didn’t have a proper place: old cassette tapes (half of them were unwound and horribly tangled), a couple of chipped ceramic mugs (they were slightly sticky and smelled faintly of cheap wine), even a pair of stockings with matching garters (the nylon was full of runs and Slash couldn’t imagine why Duff kept them – maybe a memento from an old girlfriend?).

It was ridiculous to be upset, of course; he knew that. So what if Duff had another catpet before Slash? There was nothing wrong with that. If anything, it was good that he had some experience with pets, right? It was irrational to be jealous.

Still… Maybe he just wished that Duff had told him.

Slash lurched into a sitting position when he heard Duff’s key in the lock. He shoved the collar between the couch cushions behind him and tried to school his face to a neutral expression as the door swung open.

Duff looked tired, but his face lit up like the sun when he saw Slash. He worked so hard for them, still taking shifts at the restaurant because he knew that the advance from the record label wouldn't last forever, not with a new lease and two mouths to feed. Someday soon Duff would be able to quit his day job and focus on nothing but rock 'n' roll, but until then, Slash did what he could to ease the burden.

"Hey, baby, how's your day been?"

"Fine," Slash answered, a little too quickly as Duff hung his apron up on the secondhand coatrack they bought for the new apartment.

"You sure? Everything okay?" Duff sat next to him on the couch, folding his legs to face Slash with concern in his eyes.

"Really, I'm good." He hoped his smile was convincing. It wasn't not a lie, everything was fine, he was just overreacting. He tugged on the corner of a throw pillow to bury the collar even more, but the tiny movement didn't escape Duff's notice.

His eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip before asking, “Slash, are you... hiding something from me?”

Slash’s curls flew as he shook his head vigorously, but when Duff slid a hand onto his knee, looking confused and a little hurt, Slash couldn’t keep up the act. Duff was the only person he trusted, he couldn’t lie to him. So he retrieved the collar from behind the cushion and held it out to Duff, keeping his eyes glued to his lap.

Duff accepted the collar and turned it over in his hands the same way that Slash had been doing before, running his fingers over the smooth leather and steel.

“Oh damn, I haven’t seen this in ages… I thought I lost it. Where’d you even find this?”

Slash shrugged. “I was unpacking.”

"Aw, thanks baby, that was sweet of you." All Slash did was go through a few boxes of junk, but Duff seemed sincerely touched by the help. His appreciative smile glowed brightly enough to start to melt Slash's anxiety, but not completely. It didn't take long for Duff to notice that Slash's eyes weren't peeping up at him through curly bangs like they usually did – instead of watching him with endearing curiosity, Slash was determinedly avoiding his gaze.

“Sweetheart, are you upset? What’s wrong?”

“No! ‘M not upset…” Slash tried for a reassuring smile, but when he looked up to meet Duff’s concerned gaze his resolve wavered. “I just... I, uh, didn’t know you had another pet.”

“Oh!” Duff let out a short laugh and Slash shrank away slightly and lowered his ears, instinctively bracing himself for scorn. “Slash, no, I never had another pet. The collar – it’s kind of embarrassing...” The tips of Duff’s ears flushed pink, it was his turn to avoid Slash's eyes. “I bought it years ago, to, uh, wear on stage, back when I was playing in punk bands.”

“Oh!” Slash laughed and the nervous tension in his body dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. “I thought, when I saw it – Oh.”

He took the collar back from Duff and examined it again, looking back and forth between it and Duff, trying to picture him as a teenager with a leather collar on his neck. The image made him smile, but another idea was even more enticing:

“I wanna wear it,” Slash announced.

“You – you do?”

"I need one, don't I?"

He didn't really, not all catpets preferred to wear collars and Duff had never thought to ask Slash if he wanted one. That's not to say he didn't like the idea, he just... didn't want to appear presumptuous.

"I can get you any collar you like," Duff offered. "You don't have to use that old one if you don't want to."

"I like this one," Slash insisted. "It's nice." It's yours. He hands the collar back to Duff.

Slash watched Duff's fingers tremble as he unlatched the collar. With nerves or excitement, he wan't sure – Duff was silly like that sometimes, acting like Slash's feelings for him weren't a given. Satisfied that Duff was ready, Slash turned around and gathered his hair, baring his neck expectantly.

Both of them sucked in a breath as the smooth leather, warm from Duff's hands, wrapped gently around Slash's neck. When Slash exhaled, it was with an audible rumble of satisfaction.

"Comfortable?" Duff asked. Slash could hear the grin in his voice.

His response was a simple purr of agreement, as he leaned back into Duff's embrace.

"Come on, Duff, are you fucking ready to go yet?" Duff could hear Slash loudly complaining by the front door, but when he finally walked into the living room with his coat on and his hair done, there was no missing the huge smile on Slash's face.

In fact, Slash had been smiling all evening. Sometimes biting back a coyly curled lip, sometimes grinning with a brightness to rival the sun... Ever since Duff gifted him the collar, Slash had been positively radiating smug feline contentment.

Contentment and also impatience – after their cuddle session on the couch, Duff couldn't eat dinner and get dressed fast enough for Slash, who was just dying to get out of the apartment and hit the town. Whatever the cause of his eagerness, Duff was in far too good a mood to be annoyed about it, even as Slash practically dragged him out the front door.

Slash clung tightly to his arm all the way down the street to the bar, strutting down the block with his chin up and his tail held high. This was unusual for Slash – when it wasn't coming from Duff, he didn't care much for attention. Honestly, Duff was surprised (not to mention flattered) that a collar would have such an effect on Slash, that it would inspire him look at Duff with so much adoration and pride in his gaze. Duff wouldn't admit it, but those looks nearly made his knees buckle – he still wasn't used to feeling so overwhelmingly loved.

A cool breeze picked up as the sun set over the ocean, but Duff was flooded with warmth. It could have been because Slash shifted to wrap his arm around his waist and press himself even more tightly against his side, or it could have been because Duff was starting to realize that Slash wasn't just showing off the collar – he was showing off Duff himself. He now had wearable proof that Duff was all his, that they were right to choose each other. Duff was perfect for him, and he wanted everyone to know.

"Duff..." Slash spoke in a hushed voice, even though no one was likely to overhear on the bustling sidewalk. "Your friends at the bar – do you think they'll notice?"

This time, he didn't shy away when Duff laughed.

"Yeah, I think they will." He tucked a stray curl away from Slash's eyes, and let his fingers trace the edge of his velvet ears. "But, uh... Maybe we don't need to mention where the collar came from, you know?"

#apologies for any cavities this fic may cause #things got a little sappy there even for ME #sodafics #slash #saul hudson #duff mckagan #sluff #gnr #guns n roses #gnr fanfic

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leah-halliwell92 · 4 years

Text

Mr. Telford History Teacher

Summary: You needed one last elective class to fill the second to last category for your minor. Little did you know the one teaching it would have more effect on you than the corse itself.

It’s been a long school term...almost too long a term in your opinion between your classes and Darby you had your hands full. Granted you’d gotten a better handle on things when Jackson Teller offered to be your study buddy for health in case things went to hell.

Jackson, or Jax as he preferred to be called, turned out to be a chill friend to have too, his chill mannerisms had you going to him for much other than just notes. It seemed almost meant to be as he told you his girlfriend, Tara, was also on the way to med school as well. The three of you became near inseparable as the term pressed on.

Your relationship with Mr. Telford also seemed to have changed from that first class. He’d been careful not to show favoritism with you and clear disdain with Darby, that last one was more of a struggle than the first, while at the same time getting your attention in the sense that he seemed to be interested in you and not in the student teacher way either.

Opie’s girlfriend Lyla had given you the in on Mr. Telford, something about him being Jax’s godfather, and how since knowing you he seemed to have lightened up some at home. Whatever that meant...

“It’s like one big family (Y/N),” Lyla said one day during lunch, “Misters Telford, Traeger, Morrow, Munson and Loman are all in a bike club. But also are staffed here.”

You shuddered at the mention of Mr. Morrow but kept it to yourself.

“Ya thinking of Mr. Morrow? Yea, keep away from him doll,” Lyla said seriously, “Word back home is that he did some pretty fucked up shit to his missus, who so happens to be a form of mom to all of us. That shit did not run by her and she left him. He still works part time at the club but again, that’s all talk. And if you ask me, the part time thing is Mrs. Teller being kind enough to let him work till he can get the hell out of dodge.”

You nod thinking he got off not too bad if he was still being let work at this club. On the other hand, you understood why he looked like he could kill anyone for doing or saying the wrong thing.

“Explains the bitterness then,” you said with a shaky laugh.

“You’ve taken class with Mister Munson already for your Math elective and you’ve met Mr. Loman too while in the library,” Lyla continued on in a lighter tone, “Now we’re taking Health with Mr. Traeger.”

You nod and look at your timetable for the following term to find that you were also taking Home Ec. with one Venus Traeger. You had to laugh but it just worked.

“I guess I’m in safe hands then,” you say softly to yourself but still loud enough for Lyla to hear.

“Doll we you are more than safe with us,” she said fervently before leaving to her next class.

You liked that, you liked that very much considering your dad ain’t one to be very involved unless its to ask you for money. The idea of being part of a family was enough to make you hope that being with this group would bring you something good.

Today had been a good morning, you were tired but that was a given with it being peak term time. You were just about to go to history when the one guy you had done well to avoid blocked your way out of the library.

“Hey there darling,” Johnny Darby said with what he thinks is a charming smirk, “Fancy seeing you here.”

He really needs to get his balls kicked.

“Was wondering if you wanted to hang with a real man instead of those biker bitches,” he said “charmingly”.

“How many times do I have to say no to you?” You asked rhetorically, “When someone avoids you its because they want nothing from you Johnny. I thought you were smart enough to see that.”

Jonathan gapped at you clearly not expecting that, despite you being more than clear throughout the semester.

You turned planning on going the long way around to class but was stopped by a hand to your wrist yanking you back.

“No you don't bitch!” He yelled pulling you till he was nose to nose with you, “You are going to do what I tell you to do.”

“I said no Johnny!” You say loudly pulling at your wrist and gasped when he took you forearm tightly.

He grinned “charmingly” at you and said, “Come on sweetheart, you know I can show you a good time. An even better time than you think you’re having with those biker wannabes.”

You struggled against him and knew his arm would leave an imprint on your forearm and wrist. Before anything else could happen you heard footsteps coming to you.

“Is there a problem here?” A raspy low voice asked.

You turned to find Mr. Loman, the librarian, walking up to the both of you.

“Nothing Mr. Loman,” Johnny said softening his grip on you.

“You sure? I could’ve sworn I heard this young lady in distress,” he said nodding in your direction.

“Na, we were just having a peaceful conversation. Wanting to ask this pretty lady out to dinner,” Johnny said putting on a friendly face before looking at you, “Isn’t that right baby?”

Searing rage ran through you as you stared at him in near disbelief.

“No it isn’t,” you say and pull yourself away from him standing to your full height facing him, “I refuse to become the next victim in your little red Neo-natzi book Darby. And just cuz your daddy’s got seniority here doesn’t mean it will be swept under a rug.”

Unbeknownst to you, Happy looked on at you clearly impressed that you could stand your ground.

Johnny looked on pissed off at that you dared challenge him and his authority. He went to make a grab at you only to be stopped by Mr. Loman who moved to stand in front of you.

“Not a good idea,” he said lowly, threateningly, staring Darby down, “You know the rules Darby. You also know you’re not supposed to be in here when I’m on shift.”

This seemed to snap Darby out of whatever he had in mind. He looked between you and Mr. Loman before raising his hands up in mock surrender and stepping away from you.

“See ya around doll,” he said with “harmless” grin before finally leaving the library.

“You alright little girl?” Mr. Loman asked gently giving you a look over to make sure you really were ok.

You nod shakily and let him take you to the main office where he sat you at his desk.

“I’ll be right back ok?” He asked careful to keep himself at your eye level.

You nod fighting to keep your breathing in order and sat where he deposited you waiting to see what it is he was going to do next.

000//000

Part three will be up tomorrow or day after peeps!

Tag List:

@ideclareflananigans @come-join-themurder @miss-nori85 @xbreezymeadowsx @tommyflanagans @theidiootti1 @flanagirl @jtelford @lovelypoltergeist @chibsisadream

#chibs x reader #filip telford #teacher chibs #chibs imagine #soa imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy chibs #tommy flanagan

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mrslittletall · 3 years

Text

Title: Memory Lane Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Micolash Host of the Nightmare, Laurence the first Vicar Word Count: 4.384 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31841335

Summary: Micolash travels home from Byrgenwerth for summer vacation, but during the trip, he thinks about why he doesn't want to go back...

(Author's note: That actually is part of a trade for @popskipandajump @sketchygabz on tumblr. She wanted a story of Micolash's past of my version, which isn't a happy one...

Warnings for child abuse and child neglect. Also, Laurence is tagged there, but he isn't in this fic much, sorry Laurence!)

“Aren't you travelling home for the vacation, Laurence?”, Micolash asked his friend, a bit confused about why he wasn't entering one of the carriages that carted off students to the various places around Byrgenwerth since summer vacation had started this morning.

“My parents are dead, remember.”, Laurence replied, crossing his arms. “And I don't have any other relatives. Master Willem took me in, so I have to stay at the school. Don't you worry though, Gehrman promised to me that we would explore the woods together and play in the lake on hot days. Don't forget to write though, I will make sure to reply once I have your home address.”

Micolash smiled at Laurence as he entered the carriage. “I won't.”, he promised. Micolash waved to Laurence and sat down in the carriage, waiting for the other passengers to enter so that it could take off. Looking out of the window, he could still see Laurence standing there, waving to him. Micolash waved back, sighing as he thought that he would prefer to stay with Laurence and Gehrman for the summer. In truth, Micolash didn't want to go home.

It was something that Micolash hadn't told his now two close friends. Both Laurence and Gehrman always spoke so fondly about their parents, so he never had brought the subject of his own parents up... and he planned to keep it that way, this was something they didn't need to know.

Micolash stopped looking out of the window when Laurence decided to leave to make room for a few more passengers wanting to enter and looked at them instead. A small family entered last, a typical family, a mother, a father and a small child, maybe five or six years old.

The child happily sat themselves on their mother's lap once the family had settled in and Micolash could see how she carefully stroked over the hair of her child. As the carriage started to move, for they were the last passengers, Micolash asked himself if that was how Laurence' mother had treated him. Laurence always spoke with such great fondness of her...

Micolash's own mother on the other hand...

Micolash barely remembered his mother. He was aware that at some point during his life, a mother had been present. He remembered faint things, feelings, impressions. Like soft hands picking him up and gently rocking him, a voice singing to him, being hugged and comforted when he was upset.

What he couldn't remember was a face to the woman who must have been his mother. There was only one thing he remembered very clearly. The last words she ever spoke to him before vanishing forever.

“I can't take this anymore... Mico... I am so sorry... Please forgive me...”

The next thing that Micolash remembered was the shutting of a door and him having waddled over, confused about what just happened. He must have been only three or four back then, far too young to connect the dots, even younger than the child opposite of him, currently sitting on their mother's lap, not having a worry in the world. He did need a long time to understand what had happened. His mother had abandoned him, had left him alone, to never come back, and, Micolash had to admit this to himself, he didn't feel like forgiving her for it.

His gaze went from the child to the man who must be the father of the small family. He looked gentle and his gaze was full of fondness for his wife and child. It reminded Micolash of Gehrman's father, who, while a strict man who made sure that Gehrman didn't slack on his duties, always was there when his son needed him.

Micolash's own father on the other hand? Micolash couldn't remember a single day in his life where his father hadn't been drunk. Being drunk was pretty much his normal state. He always had some kind of bottle with him and would drink out of it, swaying from side to side, reeking of wine. He often ignored Micolash in his drunken state, though the days in which Micolash remained ignored could be considered the good days.

The days in which his father was hyper aware of Micolash's presence... were the worst ones...

On those days, Micolash couldn't even make a single peep without upsetting his father. Even when he just shifted around or went to fetch something and the gods forbid that Micolash dropped something or forgot to avoid the creaky floorboards on his way outside.

His father would be in front of him with such a speed that it frightened Micolash. When Micolash was lucky, he would simply get screamed at. That he shouldn't make such noise, that he should be lucky that he had a roof over his head and that he was allowed to go to school instead of dying outside in some ditch. Micolash was used to this kind of words. Sure, they stung, but it was nothing that he couldn't endure.

It hurt a lot more when his father decided to put his mother into the mix and told him that she didn't ever bother to take him with her and that meant how much she hated him and that he never had been loved by her, only having been bothered by his very existence and that it was him and his constant screaming and being fuzzy when he still had been a baby that drove her out. Micolash always had to suppress his tears when his father started with it... he even almost started to believe that he was at fault for his mother leaving.

However, simply being screamed at, even though it hurt a lot inside of him, was still better as when his father decided that he had enough of him making so much noise and silenced him with his fist.

The first time it had happened, Micolash had barely registered it. He just stared with wide eyes at his father, raising a hand to notice that his nose bled and then starting to sob uncontrollably, not understanding why it had happened or what he did wrong to get such a reaction, which had made... everything worse...

For when Micolash didn't want to calm down, his father dealt with him by shutting him into the closet. It was dark in there, narrow, far too warm and it smelled horrible, mostly of alcohol and vomit, and Micolash was sure he would have been able to see stains of dried up puke on the clothes if it wouldn't have been so dark.. and if he wouldn't have been so terrified of being locked in there.

Locking Micolash into the closet was his father's usual method when Micolash annoyed him, which was far more often than Micolash liked, and Micolash started to dread the closet so much. He was left in there for hours, sometimes his father even left their home without releasing him and Micolash had to sit in there, waiting, panicking, hoping that he would come back, hoping that he would get out before he would starve, trying his best to avoid making a mess when he was left in their for hours, only to be punished when it happened regardless, making the situation into nothing more but a vicious cycle for Micolash.

“Oh dear, are you feeling alright? You are awfully pale.”

Micolash got snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his arm and when he looked to his right, aware of how laboured his breathing had become, he spotted the face of an elderly woman, a kind smile, with her greyish hair being put into a bun on heir head, wearing a checkered dress. He didn't reply right away, because the sight in front of him stirred another memory and for a second he felt like had seen a ghost.

“Are you about to get sick maybe? Do you need for the carriage to stop?”

Micolash slowly shook his head, trying to force his face into a smile, which felt extremely difficult. He hoped he looked at least half convincing, though he knew his face wasn't exactly pretty (Laurence even called him a gremlin sometimes and Micolash couldn't deny it), though he hoped that he didn't look anymore like he was about to throw up.

“No, I am fine.”, he finally answered. “Just thought about... something unpleasant.”

“Well then, but don't hesitate to say something should you feel unwell.”, the old woman said and Micolash was aware that the rest of the passengers stared at him as well, he must have looked a lot more uncomfortable than he thought.

“I will. Sorry for worrying you.”, he said and felt how the old woman let go of his arm, but he still felt his gaze on her. Micolash decided to stop looking at the passengers from which a few still were staring at him and out of the window again.

The elderly woman sitting next to him... at first glance, she looked like the striking image of Micolash's neighbour. Micolash and his father lived in a small shack at the border of Hemwick Chapel Lane and this elderly woman had lived there too. Apparently, she was alone, either she never had married or her husband had died and her children and grandchildren were out of the house. It wasn't something Micolash bothered a lot with.

This woman had been a big reason why Micolash had survived after his mother had left.

“Mooom, I am hungry!”, the small child of the family suddenly complained, breaking Micolash briefly out of his thoughts when he saw their mother soothe them and find something for them to eat, which they eagerly took.

Food was something that wasn't a constant in Micolash's life and the reason why his elderly neighbour had been so important for him plus the fact that he could escape his father when he stayed at her place.

Micolash's father didn't have a steady job. No wonder, the drunkard he was. He worked wherever he would be needed and whoever found enough pity in themselves to employ him. Micolash's father probably thought that his son didn't know about this, but Micolash always listened when he walked through the village, he heard the rumours, the facts, he knew how disliked his father was in the village. He also heard the rumours about himself. That a child with such a father couldn't get right, that it was no wonder that his mother had left and that they feared the day when Micolash would grow up into a copy of his father. It didn't surprise him that the other children avoided him, sometimes even thought about bullying him. Micolash didn't bother, they got bored when he ignored them and his father did far more worse things than their words could do to him and their mean spirited pranks didn't hurt as much as being shut in the closet or being beaten until he bled.

But Micolash loathed it when he was compared to his father. He even loathed himself then. He never would become like his father, he swore to himself, though deep down inside of him, he very much feared that it would still happen...

Because of his many odd jobs, Micolash's father generally didn't bring a lot of coins home, and the coins he brought home, he normally used to buy more alcohol. It was rare that his father brought food home and if, then it often was just some old bread or leftovers, probably from a meal he had bought for himself and then brought back home some scraps when he remembered that Micolash existed and people probably would start to ask questions if they boy wouldn't be seen in the village or at school anymore.

During this time, the elderly neighbour took care of Micolash once she realized that he got thinner and thinner from malnourishment. Even though she didn't have much, she gladly shared the bit she had with him, pretty much saving Micolash from starvation. It had been shortly after his mother had left, when Micolash was still far too small to take care of himself. He couldn't remember too much, but he remembered how much more drunk his father had gotten after his mother left, and Micolash went largely ignored during that time... but in the bad way, in the way that he was basically non-existent for his father...

If not for his elderly neighbour having invited him into her shack and giving him food, Micolash probably would have died there sooner or later, for the bit of food that his father sometimes remembered to bring along, barely did anything to quell his hunger...

Micolash liked being at her house. She gave him food, she didn't get mad at him when he was a bit noisier while playing and he didn't have to fear getting punished when he messed up. He only could stay there though when his father was absent, because his father was very much against him staying at some random stranger's house and always would get him and get into a fight with his neighbour when Micolash wouldn't be back on time.

When Micolash was around six years old, his neighbour decided to teach him to prepare his own food. She started with raw food first, showing Micolash how to prepare a sandwich or a fruit bowl or a salad. However, Micolash was clever enough to figure out how the stove worked, so she switched over to teach him how to cook. They were all rather simple recipes, but it meant that Micolash didn't have to rely so much on his neighbour anymore and could prepare food in his own home... and sometimes it even put him into the favour of his father, when he came home and Micolash had prepared some food he enjoyed. Those were good days, where nothing bad happened to him... should Micolash fail the food however... He shuddered at the memory.

However, for a child of six years it was awfully difficult to chop firewood, so Micolash couldn't prepare cooked food too often. He was forbidden from taking any of the firewood his father might have chopped, probably because it was needed for the winter and his father would just chop enough that they would not freeze. Micolash was pretty sure that his father never had used the stove himself, in fact, he needed to clean the whole thing out when he started to use it. Without proper firewood, he couldn't use it very well though, so Micolash was often collecting branches and dry leaves to at least have something to burn and cook a warm meal once in a while.

While he heard of a fancy thing called a gas stove which they had in cities like Yharnam, Micolash was sure that they never would get it, especially because they never would have enough coins to pay for that gas that they needed for such a stove to function. He still was interested in how such a stove would function and secretly wished that one day he could try out a stove that didn't need to be fuelled with wood.

The coins they had, or more, the coins his father gave him once he realized that Micolash would cook for him, were barely enough to even organize the food. His father still put most of his coins into buying more wine and while the coins would be enough for food for one person, Micolash had to cook for himself too. He would have preferred not having to share the little bit of food he had at all, but he knew he had to give his father the bigger serving or he would get punished, and Micolash didn't want to get locked into the closet again...

That is why the elderly neighbour started to show Micolash how to scavenge for food as well as grow his own food. She had a little garden and showed him how to plow the ground, sow the seeds and raise vegetables on his own. There wasn't that much growing in Hemwick, but Micolash managed to grow a few vegetables, like carrots, cabbage and turnips.

Micolash also got shown how to gather wild herbs and mushrooms. He had to learn a lot, because a lot of these wild plants weren't edible, downright poisonous. Micolash documented them all on the blank pages of his school books, not having enough coins to buy a notebook for his own. His teacher once wanted to scold him for scribbling in his books, but didn't say anything when she saw what Micolash had written down.

He also got taught how to fish and how to set traps to catch small animals. Fishing often wasn't successful, for Micolash didn't have a good fishing rod and always had to craft one himself. At least looking for earthworms to use as bait was kind of entertaining, he kind of liked digging in the mud, even though it left him dirty and when he would make the shack dirty... Micolash often had to clean himself in the river before getting home.

Traps were a bit more effective, but it was hard for Micolash when he had his first catch and then had to realize that meat meant having to kill a small little animal. He pretty much refused to do it the first time and only slowly took to it... up until to a point where it became so natural for him that he didn't even think about it anymore. Everything he caught meant that he didn't have to go to bed without a full belly and also that he could get his father into a somewhat good mood.

During this time, his life managed to get almost pleasant... until his elderly neighbour died when he was eight years old.

From one day to the other, Micolash had lost his safe place. Now he had to spend all his time at home or wandering the village, which wasn't possible when it rained or snowed, and because the elderly neighbour had taught Micolash how to do household chores, and Micolash had started to clean around the shack, his father now had extraordinary high expectations of him.

If the shack wasn't clean enough, he would get mad. If a dish wasn't to his liking, he would get mad. If he didn't have any clean laundry, he would get mad. Micolash actually asked himself why he was allowed to go to school when all his free time was spent with household chores anyway. Because of that, Micolash would often stay up beyond bedtime and learn for school, for he vowed to himself that he would never end up like his father and learn something good. Luckily, learning came easily to him, very easily. He didn't need long to understand how something worked and managed to pass all his tests with flying colours.

One day Micolash figured that his father would always have something to criticize, so he stopped giving a damn. He would end up in the closet or with a black eye one way or another, so he decided to use his extra time for learning for school and food scavenging, for he hoped he could save a bit of coins to one day leave this place, when he grew up.

Unfortunately, his father found out that Micolash mostly scavenged for food and stopped giving him coins, leaving Micolash with his very small savings that were nowhere enough to get him anywhere. Micolash used his little stash to buy something that he never had dared to try before, for how expensive it was. It was a sweet, something called a chocolate bar and he had never tried something so exquisite and tasty. When he sat at the river, enjoying it, tears ran down his face when he thought that other children could enjoy this treat every single day.

Micolash's life pretty much continued like this and he almost came to terms with that he would either be forever stuck in Hemwick until his father died or had to run away with no coins whatsoever, when his teacher one day talked to him. His grades were so good, she wanted to recommend him to a school named Byrgenwerth, a school in which children and young adults with his skills could study. The best thing about it... the school was a bit off the road, in the middle of a forest, so that the students would stay there for the duration of the school year.

Micolash's face only fell when he heard about the sum he would have to pay to enter. That was impossible for him, especially because he barely got any coins anymore. He knew Father would never pay the tuition, for all their coins were used up for the wine he drank everyday.

That was when Micolash's teacher told him about a stipend. He would have to pass a certain test and then someone else would cover the tuition for him. Micolash, more than eager to get away from this place, as well as wanting to learn even more, accepted and managed to pass the test.

On the day he left, he didn't even tell his father about it. He wrote a letter and slipped it under the door when he went to sleep, then he quietly packed the few things he possessed and left for the carriage. Back then, he hadn't thought about ever going back. He hadn't taken into account that he would get sent home for vacation.

And now he was sitting in the carriage. The carriage that was getting him home. Where he had to face his father and explain to him where he went. Where he probably would get locked into the closet for three days if he was lucky. Micolash hadn't even noticed how he had started shuddering. He didn't, no, he couldn't get back to this place. He had worked so hard to get out of it, it wasn't fair that he had to go back, to this man that never loved him, to that shack that never had been a home, to a place where the only person helping him was long dead.

“Hemwick Chapel Lane. Everyone who wants to get off, please exit.” Micolash jerked up when he heard the name of his stop and got up in an instant, walking to the exit as if he was in a trance. He could feel the gazes of all the passengers on him, only now realizing how much he was shaking. If he would get out there... then his father would have control over him again, and Micolash didn't know if he had the strength to leave another time.

“What's the matter? Is this your station or not?”, the carriage driver asked as Micolash still didn't move.

“No, it isn't.”, Micolash finally said and sat back down. “I am sorry, I want to leave at Byrgenwerth Forest station.”

The carriage driver just gave him a deep look, for that was the station where Micolash had entered, but then shrugged. Micolash took a deep breath when he noticed all the other passengers staring at him, even the small child that had been the start of his trip down memory lane.

“Are you feeling alright?”, the mother of the family asked. “Aren't you a student of Byrgenwerth? Is there a place where you can... stay?”

Micolash didn't reply right away. He would even sleep in the woods if he had to, but... he would go back to Byrgenwerth and ask if he could stay there for the vacation. Laurence and Gehrman were also there, he wouldn't count much, and he could offer to cook. He just hoped that Master Willem didn't have a reason to send him away...

“I'll figure something out.”, he instead replied and the parents shared a look before getting their attention demanded by their offspring. Next to him, the old woman that reminded him so much of his elderly neighbour gave him a pat and said.

“There's no reason to stay at a place you feel unhappy in. Walking away was the best thing that ever happened to me... and I hope you find your place to stay as well.”

Micolash gave her a smile and then looked out of the window.

“Never again.”, he decided as the carriage started moving and left Hemwick Chapel Lane behind him. Never again would Micolash return to this place, from now on, he would build his own life. One day, he might have friends and even subordinates that would research with him and should he make enemies.. well, he would make sure to show them that they couldn't mess with him.

On the way back, Micolash relaxed gradually. The sun was already starting to set when the carriage was back at Byrgenwerth Forest, but Micolash didn't mind, crossing the forest to the school before it set completely and setting foot in the common room, where a pretty confused Laurence got up from the couch, abandoning the book he had read and came over to him.

“Micolash? Didn't you want to go home for the vacations?”, he asked.

“Laurence...”, Micolash said. “There's something I have to tell you...”

Micolash then confessed the whole deal about his upbringing to Laurence and once he was done, breathing heavily and tears staining his eyes, Laurence never once having left his side, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, his friend said: “Let's go speak to Master Willem.”

Micolash was allowed to stay in the school during the vacations from now on, only sometimes having to leave to take a new test for his stipend, which Master Willem organized in Yharnam though, Laurence' hometown, so that Micolash didn't had to get back to Hemwick Chapel Lane anymore.

Micolash never went back to this place, instead, he started his own life, and his own school. And even though he broke ties with his old friends eventually, he never regretted his decision.

For in the Nightmare of Mensis was all the knowledge of the Great Ones and why should he ever want to leave the home he made for himself?

(Author's note: Not gonna lie, this feels a bit clunky to me. I practically rewrote the entire thing also from the first draft and only left like the last few paragraphs. I didn't give any names to the characters outside of Micolash and Laurence, because I didn't want to flesh them out too much.

I hope you enjoyed it and tell me what you thought in the comments.)

#bloodborne #fanfiction #micolash host of the nightmare #laurence the first vicar #child abuse cw #child neglect cw #littlewritesstuff

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xpeachesncream · 4 years

Text

off the grid | two

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 3191

chapter warnings: cussing / mature language, definitely inaccurate depiction of transportation, events and whereabouts in South Korea since i only did my research thru the internet, jimin is cute as fuck for being such an angel

> series masterlist <

You tried sleeping in after Namjoon and Yoongi's call, but you couldn't fall back asleep no matter how exhausted your body still felt. Instead, you sat up in bed, scrolling through the pictures you took from your stroll in the nearby streets yesterday. You didn't get too far, yet you came back with so many small goodies already. You kept stopping by every shop on the street, and you ate such delicious food that you were contemplating on getting more today. But, you were also determined to travel a little bit further and start some real adventures for yourself.

You got yourself washed up and ready for the day. You did your usual of prepping a very light breakfast for yourself, just to give you enough fuel to kick off the morning. While doing so, surprisingly unsurprised, you were certain you heard Jimin's voice in the hallway. You stared at the door as you stood and ate some cereal on the kitchen island, waiting for his knock to come.

"Knock, knock." He says, following with two soft knocks. You walked over, bowl in hand, as you opened the door to see Jimin standing there with a huge smile on his face and another tupperware in hand. "I come bearing gifts?" He steps in as you shut the door behind him.

"Aw, thanks! More food?"

"Yup."

"Assuming your parents still don't know Yana isn't here?" You chuckled.

"Not at all." He scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously. "But I'll deal with it later."

"Mm, you should probably deal with it before Christmas rolls around, sir."

"Yesma'am." He salutes you playfully. "Did you eat the stuff that I brought yesterday?"

"Sure did, for a night time snack." He chuckled as he placed the new tupperware in the fridge.

"Body still adjusting?"

"Pretty much." You say as you begin to wash your bowl.

"What's your plan today, Miss Y/N?" You softly chuckle as you wipe your hands down.

"Just roam around."

"Let me know if you need anything, or if you need anyone to show you around." He held out his hand, signaling for your phone so he can put his number in.

"I may just take you up on that offer."

"Good." He smiled. "Well, I'll catch you later? I'll leave you to your peace." You nod as you follow him to the door.

"Thanks again for the food."

"No problem. Eat up." He taps the door frame before shutting the door close. You look down at your phone and see Jimin's contact info still on the screen. Or should we say, "PRINCE CHARMING 🥵��" since that's what he decided to name himself?? Let's not forget to peep the little tidbit he put in the notes: "My name is Jimin but you can call me tonight ;)" Who even uses the 'Notes' section under the contact's info?

His use of emojis and cheesy lines made you laugh to yourself, but you left it anyways. You were highly thinking about taking up his offer on having someone show you around, but you kept reminding yourself that the whole reason you came here was to do this solo. But, god, there's only so many things you can achieve as a solo newbie in a place like South Korea. Would it truly hurt to get some help or advice from someone?

On your way to the train station, you came across a lively farmer's market. The cold was biting at every inch of your body no matter how bundled you were, cheeks rosy and glowing. Being that the farmer's market was booming at this time, you figured checking out the station map could wait. Long aisles of stands with colorful fresh fruit and vegetables had you stopping almost every second to try samples. Fruit and veggies certainly tasted fresh, and it was a nice feeling on your tongue. None of that pesticide, wax-covered bullshit back home. There was music playing in the background, one being a street artist playing his violin in this cold. You threw some change into his case and continued down the aisle, where more vendors were selling their own art and home-made goods.

You spent quite some time here, as it seemed like the booths would never end. It eventually did, and it brought you right to the train station that would bring you to Myeongdong. Luckily, it was a simple, straightforward trip and you'd be on your way to more exploring. You planned to get some lunch first though because you can most definitely hear the street food calling your name.

As you continued down the street with your food in hand, you heard someone call you by name from behind.

"Y/N?" You turned your attention towards the street behind you to find Jimin pushing his way through the crowd with a huge smile on his face.

"Are you following me, Park Jimin?" You chuckled. He was wearing the same outfit you saw him in this morning, which was a thick sweater and leather jacket, dark grey jeans and boots. He had a hat on and some oversized glasses, which you thought fit his frame perfectly well.

"Definitely. Just had to make sure you knew what you were doing out here." He laughed. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, it's great. Do you come here often?"

"To be honest, not really. But the guys and I had nothing else to do today, plus-"He holds up a bag. "Ma put in a request for some stuff she was looking for since I was going to be here."

"That's sweet of you." You smiled toothlessly, watching as he beamed from ear to ear. Definitely a mama's boy, and a handsome one at that.

"Yeah, I do what I can." He shoved the bag down back to his side and tugged on his own shoulder bag. "Where are you headed after this?"

"Honestly? Wherever the wind brings me." You shrugged.

"You should tag along with me and my friends. We're uh, not doing anything fancy besides going to the comic cafe." He snorted nervously, hoping you wouldn't be one to label him as a dweeb this early on. "It's near the Dongdaemun Night Market. I think you'll enjoy grabbing some dinner there."

"Yeah, I'll come with. That sounds fun." You began to walk alongside of him as he walked back towards the opposite end of the street.

"Sorry, were you done looking here? I could accompany you while you keep looking." He paused to look down at you.

"No." You instantly shook your head. "Uh, I think I'm all good." You took one last look behind you, a little unsure since there was a store you still wanted to check out before leaving. You didn't wanna burden Jimin and his friends though, this wasn't their plan.

"You sure?" He smirked.

"Maybe not?"

"Let's go, I can tell you still wanna look around."

"Jimin, I can go alone-"

"It's not an issue, Y/N. Besides, Jungkook and Taehyung are still wandering around." He nodded towards the one shop you were eyeing. "Come on." You smiled toothlessly and followed him into the store.

"By the way, nice contact name." You showed him his contact info on your phone, making him laugh.

"Yeah, it's gold isn't it? Trying to stand out. I'm surprised you kept it."

"Your work of art. I don't meddle."

"Ah, touché. I like a girl who can appreciate good art." He winked, causing your cheeks to heat up as you blushed and looked down at the ground below you. He stepped into the clothing store and slowed his pace to let you lead the way. The one thing you were eyeing were the puffy jackets and coats because who can have too many outerwear? Jimin bit onto his bottom lip as he watched your eyes light up at the coats in front of you, touching everything you came across.

"These are so cute. I want it all." Jimin chuckled.

"Looks like you'll be needing another luggage to go home with you." You hung onto a beige colored puffy jacket, then reached out for a plaid coat.

"There's so many colors, I can't decide." He pointed to the plaid coat next to the one you had reached out for.

"That color would look nice on you." You smiled at him and nodded.

"Thanks. That makes it easier."

"You do have enough warm jackets for your stay right? There's a possibility it'll snow soon."

"Yeah, I think I'll be alright?" He nodded.

"I don't know Y/N, that doesn't sound convincing." He did a quick head tilt. "Make sure you get something warm then, please. The cold bites down here. I wouldn't want you to be miserable for the rest of your stay." He leaned against the rack. "Like that." He pointed at a thick parka. "Might be good to have that in your stack."

"Ou." Your mouth formed an 'o' shape as you grabbed the olive parka and swung it over your arm.

"Well, that was easy." He laughed.

"I trust your word." You began to quickly scan the rest of the floor, making sure you wouldn't miss anything. But also, you didn't wanna take too much time off of Jimin's hands.

"Ayo!" You hear someone call from behind you. You continue to walk the floor, hearing Jimin's laugh from behind, followed by a couple of unfamiliar voices. "Stop being a creep."

"I'm not being a creep, you idiot." Jimin laughed and shrugged off his friend. "I'm helping Y/N out."

"She's here?" You turn to look at the three boys standing behind you.

"Y/N, this is Jungkook and Taehyung." You smiled softly and shook their hands. "I really apologize about them in advance."

"Hey, nice to finally meet you!" Jungkook smiled as he pushed Jimin aside. He was also very attractive, standing just an eensy weensy bit taller than Jimin. He had tattoos on his hand and his wavy, black hair was parted, falling down on either sides of his face and right at the eyes. He had big, doe eyes and a good build. Even though he was wearing baggy layers, you could tell his ass lived at the gym with the way his shoulders were built and how his collarbone was sharply poking out from his shirt.

"Sounds like you've heard of me." You chuckled.

"Jimin won't stop bringing up your name."

"Don't listen to him. He's making that up." Jimin's cheeks turned slightly rosy.

"That's not nice to lie, Jimin-ssi." Jungkook pinched his side, making him laugh and playfully hit him back. You scrunched your nose at how cute the interaction was, not feeling out of place at all between the two.

"Hey Y/N, Taehyung." Taehyung shows off a boxy smile as he gently shakes your hand. He looked like an artist, pulling a Jack from Titanic who was ready to draw one of his french girls kind of vibe - clad in brown pants, a black turtleneck, a long coat and low cut sneakers.

"She's gonna come along with us."

"Cool! Preparing yourself for the weather?" Jungkook asked as he quickly checked out the men's shirts across from you, while Jimin and Taehyung continued to talk and laugh on the side.

"I was warned by Jimin." You chuckled.

"He's right, it can be freezing here. Do you need any help carrying your stuff?"

"I'm good! Thanks. I think I'm about done anyways." Your mouth curved into a small smile before you walked off to the registers, grabbing a scarf on the way over just because. You definitely did not anticipate to spend like this already, but hey, self-care am I right?

"Let me hold that for you." Jimin takes the paper bag from you.

"You don't-"

"Is it like this in California or something?" He laughed.

"What?"

"Feeling shy when someone offers to hold your bags?"

"It's just not a consistent thing, I guess? At least not that I've experienced much. It could be different for others." You spare him the details. Now that you think of it, Romeo has never offered to carry your bags like that. Ever. He obviously lacked a lot of common courtesy.

"Interesting." Is all he says as he shrugs and continues on. You clutched onto your bag strap as you followed the three, suddenly questioning how you got from going around solo to now tagging along with your home swapee's brother and his friends. Jimin slightly slowed his pace to catch up to you, pulling you out of your thoughts when he shared a small laugh. "You okay? Suddenly having regrets?"

"No, I'm good." You chuckled as you tugged into the strap harder.

"Do you ready any comics?"

"I used to when I was younger. Now I just don't have time to even find a good read."

"That busy, huh?"

"I guess so. Or I guess, sorry, I just don't find the time so it's partially my fault."

"No need to apologize. You should make more time for yourself though."

"Yeah, I know." You looked up at him and smiled toothlessly. He returns the favor before opening the back passenger car door for you, allowing you to situate yourself first. As you fasten your seatbelt, Jungkook adjusts his rearview mirror before starting the car and switching its gears.

"So, what's California like?" Taehyung asked as he whipped his head around from the passenger's seat.

"You never said exactly where you were from." Jimin chimed in as he cocks his head to the side to look at you.

"Los Angeles." The boys collectived oo'd and aw'd together.

"I've been there before!" Jungkook rose one hand off of the wheel. "I did a summer dance camp there and spent time with my family going around. Like Universal Studios, that was fun." He excitedly bounced in the driver's seat.

"Did you like it?" He nodded happily.

"Very much so. I'd love to go back. You should take me with you when you go back." Jimin threw a piece of crumpled paper at the back of his head.

"I'll keep that in mind." You laughed.

"The views are amazing and-" Jungkook continued to reminisce on his memories, but was abruptly cut off by Taehyung.

"I wanna hear what it's like from Y/N, not you." Jungkook popped Taehyung on the side of neck.

"It's busy." You chuckled. "It's busy and usually always hot. Lots of people, lots of cars, lots of things to do. People are always on the move."

"Does it feel any different being here?"

"Yeah, it does. I can't really explain it." Although Seoul was just as lively and the hustle and bustle was apparent, Los Angeles just felt like.. life was moving way too fast. Like no one really had time to appreciate life as much as they do here. There's always things that need to get done, and you're more worried about other people than yourself. No one took the time to just slow down.

"I imagine so. I've seen a lot of things about LA. Lots of Hollywood stars and famous people." Taehyung continued to look at you, resting his head against the head rest.

"Yeah, that's definitely the it thing there."

"Maybe we can all go back with Y/N."

"I don't have a big place but I'm sure we can make it work." The rest of the ride included the boys loudly singing along to the songs that came up. If you weren't mistaken, you could have sworn you heard Jimin's angelic singing voice pop out every now and then. He tried to keep it lowkey. Keyword: tried.

At the comic cafe, Taehyung and Jungkook went their separate ways to find what they were looking for while you stayed near the entrance, looking at the cute stationary items. Jimin had left you to browse but came back to your side as soon as he found what he needed, worried you'd feel lost and out of place. You reassured him and told him he didn't need to rush, but as you were picking up quite quickly, it was just in Jimin's nature to be that caring.

Time had gone by so fast, you didn't even realize how hungry you were. Dongdaemun Night Market was crowded as hell; so crowded that you had to try your best to squeeze through without being rude.

"Y/N, hold onto me." Jimin looked back, holding out his arm for you to hook onto. Jungkook led the way, with Taehyung holding onto his shoulders as they navigated through the crowd. Jungkook looked back at you both, pointing towards one of the food vendors. "Are you okay with eating some tonkatsu?"

"I'm down for whatever." You said, feeling a little flustered from the crowd. Jimin signaled a thumbs up to Jungkook before turning towards the seating area. He was able to snag a table so that you both could sit and wait, instead of being in the crowd.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention that it gets really busy here."

"It's alright, thanks for guiding me through the crowd."

"You feeling tired or anything?"

"A bit." You yawned into your elbow.

"We'll get you home after so you can rest up." Sooner or later, Jungkook and Taehyung come back with two trays, both loaded with tonkatsu rice bowls and sauce.

"Here you go." Jungkook smiled as he placed your bowl down in front of you.

"Oh, thank you! How much do I owe you?"

"Don't sweat it. My treat." He shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Y/N. Please eat." He chuckled. The rest of dinner was pretty quiet, as everyone was hungrier than expected. They would break the silence every now and then, talking about the rest of their friends and what they had been up to.

"What are your friends like, Y/N?"

"Well, to be honest, I don't have too many." You chuckled. "Not many I can actually call friends, at least."

"That's valid. That's like us, too." Jungkook responded.

"I met both of my bestfriends in high school. I'd meet people through them, but that's about it. They're really cool though, I think you all would get along with them quite well."

"What are their names?"

"Yoongi and Namjoon. They're all I really know. We've done almost everything together and we've always stuck by each other. They've always had my back and protected me."

"That's good. It's nice to have people like that in your life." Jimin says.

"What about you guys?" Taehyung adjusts the heat in the car before whipping his head around to face you.

"You should hang out with us more so you can meet Hoseok and Seokjin-hyung." Taehyung smiled. "They're super social and they always have good energy. They're fun to be around."

"Sure." You chuckled. By the time you were getting really comfortable with the warmth in the car, you had arrived back home. Jungkook and Taehyung greeted you goodnight before Jimin had shut the door and walked you upstairs.

"I know we didn't do much, but I still hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I did, thank you. Seriously."

"Did you wanna, maybe, hang out again?" He shyly asked as he scratched the nape of his neck. He was cute nervous, and there was no way you could say no to him. Besides, you were sure Jimin could help you explore more. "I just have to help my mom and dad out at their cafe tomorrow morning, but I should be good by lunch time."

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"I promise I won't disappoint." He laughed. "Goodnight, Y/N. See you tomorrow?" You nodded as you walked in. He gave off one last big smile before descending down the steps.

And you weren't gonna lie to yourself. He was so damn attractive. Everything about him so far was just different. You couldn't help but feel a little bit excited to hang out and spend more time with him.

#bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #jimin #park jimin #pjm series #pjm x reader #off the grid #otg #writing #jimin x reader

106 notes · View notes

fanfics4all · 4 years

Text

Green Light, Red Light

Request: Yes / No Hi can I please get a Spencer Reid x reader where if you’ve seen the 12 season where cat has his mom and tells him that she’s pregnant with his kids and tells him she did it because she Convince him that he was doing it with Maeve and reader over hears them and she starts to feel the she was just a rebound to him and they get in a fight about how she’s Insecure about their relationship and can it end in fluff please and if you can thank you 🙏🏼 sorry if this doesn’t make sense or sounds Messy Anon

Requests are open, but please read this! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 8910

Warnings: Honestly not much I think.

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Emily had just called me and told me to come to the office. I dropped everything immediately and rushed to work. I just knew it was something about Spencer. God I hope he’s okay… As soon as I got there I rushed into her office, Rossi was already in there.

“Emily, I came as fast as I could. What’s happened? Is Spencer okay?” I asked, worry clearly in my voice.

“Thank you for coming Y/N, Fiona and I went to see Reid.” She said.

“And? Is he okay?” I asked.

“He said his Mother was in trouble.” She said and I looked at her confused.

“Were Reid and Diana scheduled to have a visit?” Rossi asked.

“He didn’t think so, but it happened anyway.” Emily answered.

“What did Cassie say?” I asked.

“Cassie didn’t bring Diana. Another nurse did, a Carol Atkinson.” She answered and I looked at her confused.

“Cassie would never let another nurse take care of her.” I said.

“Garcia’s running a search on the name now, but it’s an alias.” She said.

“For who?” Rossi asked before I could.

“Lindsey Vaughn.” She said.

“Lindsey Vaughn? From that case in Chula Vista ten years ago?” Rossi asked.

“You remember it.” Emily said.

“But how could it be her now? And why?” He asked.

“I asked him the same thing.” She said.

“And how did that go?” He asked.

“He slammed the table and ended up being escorted out by guards.” She said and I bit my lip. My poor Spencer…

“Any chance he’s wrong?” Rossi asked.

“Well, Reid did smell Scratch’s drugs before the murder, and he said there was another woman in the room with them.” She said.

“No, there’s no way he could be wrong, this is Spencer we’re talking about!” I said and they sighed.

“Well, if Lindsey took Diana to visit, where’s Cassie?” Rossi asked.

“We don’t know. Her phone goes straight to voicemail, she’s not returning texts either. Y/N, when was the last time you talked to her?” She asked me.

“Um, a few weeks ago. She was giving me updates about Diana and said that I should come and visit, that it might help her.” I answered. I was now regretting not visiting her sooner, who knows what might be happening to her now…

“And Garcia pinged it?” Rossi asked.

“She tried, but the battery must be dead. The GPS was turned off. Walker and JJ are on their way to Reid’s apartment now.” Emily said.

“I should be going with them.” I said, but Emily shook her head.

“You’re too close to this Y/N.” She said.

“We’re all close to this Emily.” I said and she sighed.

“I know, but I can’t send you out there until we have something.” She said and I sighed. I understood why, but I just wanted to help Spencer and save Diana if she was really in trouble.

“So what if this has been a Scratch-Lindsey partnership this whole time?” Rossi asked.

“If that’s true, given his mental state, I’m not sure Reid makes it to trial.” Emily said and I felt my heart break.

“I-I need to see him.” I said and Emily shook her head.

“You can’t right now, he’s not being allowed visitors.” She said and I bit my lip to keep from crying.

“Hey, he’ll be alright.” Rossi said and I nodded.

“Here, take some paperwork to keep you distracted, I’ll call everyone in when we get news from JJ.” Emily said and I nodded. I took the papers and went to my desk. I needed to keep my mind off Spencer, but that was probably the hardest thing to do.

It was maybe ten minutes later when I heard someone walk up to my desk. I looked up and saw Garcia giving me a sad smile. I returned the smile and she pulled me in for a hug.

“Emily wants us in the round table room.” She said and I nodded.

“Is Diana okay?” I asked.

“We don’t know yet...” She answered and I bit my lip once again. We all sat down and everyone gave me a sad smile. I wanted this done with, I wanted the pitty looks to go away. I wanted everything to go back to normal.

“We first came across the Vaughns ten years ago when Lindsey Vaughn and her friend Katie Owen were abducted outside of a crowded movie theater by three men.” Emily said as Garcia handed us the files.

“Ryan Phillips, the traid’s dominant, tortured and strangled Katie.” Rossi said.

“Jack Vaughn then took matters into his own hands, using his skills to find Lindsey.” Emily said.

“It ended when Jack murdered Phillips in front of her and Reid.” Rossi said.

“They let him stay in the program after that?” Luke asked.

“Jack was too important a witness to cut loose.” Rossi said.

“And no one’s heard from either of them till now?” Tara asked.

“That’s right.” Emily said with a nod.

“Lindsey was posing as a nurse named Carol Atkinson, and was able to get Diana Reid in and out of the Millburn Correctional Facility.” Garcia said, pulling up the prison’s security video.

“And despite all the cameras, this is the only one that picked her up.” Rossi said.

“So she knew exactly where they were and how to avoid them.” I said. The phone started ringing and Garcia immediately answered it.

“Please tell me you have good news.” She said.

“Well, Diana and Cassie aren’t here.” JJ said.

“There’s no forced entry and no signs of struggle. And Cassie’s car is gone.” Walker answered.

“Garcia, where are we on that APB of her car?” Emily asked.

“I don;t have anything yet.” She answered.

“Okay. Also, search recent traffic in and out of Reid’s apartment. Lindsey probably entered as Carol.” Emily said.

“Copy, copy.” She said and got to work.

“I know Diana’s routen, I should go out there.” I said.

“No Y/N, you’re not allowed to investigate this outside of this office, not yet.” Emily said. I was growing desperate, I needed to help Spencer.

“I know her routen too, Stephen and I will hit up those places first.” JJ said and hung up.

“The rest of us need to find Lindsey ASAP.” Emily said.

“I know a marshal that can help cut through Witsec’s red tape.” Luke said and walked off.

“Yeah, I’m friendly with some people at Homeland Security.” Tara said, also walking off.

“I got a buddy at the DOJ, lost a lot of money to him at poker. He owes me.” Rossi said.

“Garcia, there was degraded female DNA and prints found at the crime scene. No matches in Codis, but there might be something in Witsec.” Emily said.

“I’ll pull every favor, turn every stone.” Garcia said and walked off.

“Are we gonna tell Spencer?” I asked.

“Not yet. I don’t want to add more stress for him.” Emily said. Rossi walked off to go see his friend.

“Emily, you need to give me something to do. I can’t just sit here and do nothing and we both know I can’t just go home.” I said following her into her office.

“Go help Garcia, I can’t let you go out there right now, I’m sorry.” She said and I nodded.

“I get it, I’m way too close to him, more than you guys are, but when it comes time to go out there and do something I need to be there too.” I said and she nodded.

“I wouldn’t keep you from that.” She said and I nodded.

I was helping Garcia with whatever she needed. I wasn’t as tech savvy as she is, but I was good enough to help out. We were working on anything that could give us a lead when her phone rang.

“Garcia.” Luke said.

“What do you need?” She asked.

“Metro P.D. found Cassie’s car and called it in immediately. No signs of her or DIana. No foul play. There are… There are three visible cameras. One nearby and two down the way.” Luke said.

“I can tap into them, see what I can find.” Garcia said getting to work.

“Oh, oh, oh, uh, Walker and JJ are calling in. You want me to patch you through?” She asked.

“Please.” He said and we were all in the call now.

“Walker, JJ, you’re on with Alvez, me, and Y/N.” She said when she answered.

“Hey guys, no luck finding Cassie or Diana.” Walker said and my heart sank.

“Alright, well, I’m at Cassie’s car right now. Forensically, it’s a dead end, but, us, behaviorally we might have something.” Luke explained. It’s parked down the block from a high school.” Luke said.

“A high school is where Jack Vaughn killed Lindsey’s abductor in front of her and Spencer.” JJ said.

“Well, placing the car there could be a taunt at us.” Walker said.

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Luke said.

“I can look into that. I can- Oh!” Garcia said cutting herself off. I looked over at her screen to see what was happening.

“Garcia?” JJ asked.

“Oh, uh, uh, per Emily, I was supposed to look at the recent foot traffic in and out of Reid’s building. There is no sign of Carol Atkinson, but a Jaime Lamantia keeps popping up. She lives in unit 26 down the hall from Ried. She paid six months of her rent up front in cash, and there’s been not a peep from her since.” She said and I looked at the document she pulled up with wide eyes.

“How’s Jaime connected to Lindsey?” Luke asked.

“Jaime is Lindsey…” I said shocked.

“I’m twenty minutes from Reid’s apartment.” Luke said.

“Yeah, we’re ten.” JJ said and they were on their way.

“I-I have to go out there…” I said.

“No, you can't, Emily said you can’t.” Garcai said.

“This is my boyfriend we’re talking about! I have to do something!” I said, tears threatening to fall. Garcia pulled me in for a hug and held me tightly.

“I know hun, but we’ll get her.” She said.

Emily came in and caught us up, Cassie was dead. Lindsey killed her and took Diana. Spencer was right. Emily went back to her office to have a meeting with Luke and his friend, but I followed and stayed in the bullpen.

“I’m going to the prison. Reid deserves to know everything.” Emily said walking out.

“I’m coming with you.” I said.

“Y/N, you know you-”

“Emily please, I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.” I begged, cutting her off. She looked at me and sighed.

“Alright, let’s go.” She said and off we went to the prison.

“Wait here, I’ll give you two some time once I finish telling him okay?” She asked and I nodded. Emily was inside and they were talking. Spencer walked up to the door and banged on it. I stopped the guard from opening it and I opened it instead.

“Y-Y/N?” Spencer asked shocked. It’s the first time we’ve seen each other since he was arrested.

“Spencer, oh my God…” I said with tears in my eyes. I knew the rules, I knew I wasn’t allowed to touch him, but I didn’t care. I threw my arms around his neck and buried my head in his chest.

“Hey, no touching allowed.” The guard said.

“It’s alright.” Emily said walking over to us.

“You two have until I come back, then we leave Y/N.” She said and I nodded. Spencer and I walked back into the room and once again hugged him.

“I’ve missed you so much…” I said finally letting the tears I’ve been holding back for so long free. Spencer wrapped his arms around me and it felt like home.

“I’m so so sorry about your Mom Spence, but I swear to you that I will find her no matter what. Even if it costs me my job I will find her.” I said gently caressing his cheek.

“Does she know about us?” He asked referring to Lindsey.

“Yes…” I answered.

“You need to stay away from this.” He whispered.

“You know I can’t do that.” I whispered back.

“You need to, I can’t be the reason you get hurt.” He said.

“I’ll be find Spence, everything will be fine.” I said. I leaned up to kiss him, but he pulled away from me…

“You need to go. You need to stay off this case, you need to work on something else.” He said turning his back to me.

“You know I will not do that. I won’t stop until you’re free and your Mother is home safe!” I said. I stared at his back in shock, Spencer had changed… The door opened and Emily walked in.

“It’s time to go Y/N.” She said and I nodded.

“I promise Spence, we’ll find her and get you out of here.” I said before leaving the room with Emily.

“How’d it go?” She asked.

“Not as well as I hoped…” I quietly answered.

“He’ll come around.” She said and I just nodded. Why would he want me to stop? Why wouldn’t he want to kiss me? Why wouldn’t he be happy to see me?

We made it back to the office and Emily went straight for the roundtable room. I was still in a daze, but I followed her in. The team was there walking and Rossi looked up at us when we walked in.

“How’d it go with Reid?” He asked.

“As expected. He thinks Lindsey’s using her father’s gun as a way to carry on his legacy.” Emily said.

“Makes sense, given her Daddy issues.” Rossi said.

“And I spoke to the Warden about putting Reid in protective custody, but he said no.” Emily said and I sighed.

“Okay, more ballistics literally just came in on Jack Vaughn’s gun, and, oh my goodness, Lindsey has been a busy evil bee.” Garcia said.

“How busy?” Tara asked.

“That gun has been involved in fifteen murders in the last five years.” She answered.

“Single shot to the back of the head with a modified hollow-point.” JJ said.

“That’s our Lindsey.” Rossi said.

“You guys see the geographical pattern? All of the kills are along the U.S-Mexico border.” JJ said.

“And each of the victims have apparent Cartel ties.” Garcia.

“So, Lindsey’s been a Cartel hit woman ever since she left the program.” Tara said.

“Okay, but why is she using her Dad’s gun? That helps us, and it’s risky for her.” Garcia asked.

“It’s an impulse, not a choice.” I said. We continued talking, but we came up with nothing so we all went to get coffee.

“Why would Scratch choose Lindsey? I mean, her ties to Reid are distant.” Tara said.

“Walker and I, we kicked it around on the flight, and we imagine that Scratch was digging further into Reid’s past and he saw that Lindsey had become a contract killer. Realized she could get to him in a way that he couldn’t.” Luke said.

“It may be logistical, too. Scratch has never run out of drugs before, but now he’s a fugitive and might not be able to get them.” Walker said.

“Well, Lindsey knows the border. She’d be a good drug mule.” JJ said as I was making myself a second coffee.

“Good news, bad news.” Emily said walking up to us and I immediately turned towards her.

“I am on the books first thing tomorrow with Judge Frost and AUSA Martinez.” Emily said.

“But all we have is a theory and no support from the brass.” Rossi said.

“That’s never stopped us before.” She said.

“I guess we gave twelve hours to make an airtight case for you to bring to them.” I said.

“Yes. Not only that, we also need a paper trail.” Emily said.

“I’ll put on more coffee.” Rossi said.

“Excuse me.” Emily said and went to take a call.

“Y/N, you should go get some sleep.” Rossi said to me and I shook my head.

“There is no way I’m going home when Spencer is stuck in that prison and Diana is who knows where.” I said taking a sip of my coffee.

“I will inject coffee straight into my veins before I go to sleep.” I said and walked off to the round table room. Soon everyone followed and we were all looking for anything we could find.

“We leave no stone unturned.” Emily said walking in with Garcia and a box. She started handing out files and we got to work.

“Hey, guys.” Tara said after an hour and a half.

“Okay. I got Carol Atkinson crossing the border at Los Indios.” She said.

“There’s a factory nearby that manufactures non-FDA-approved seasickness tablets. Essentially, scopolamine pills.” She said walking over to the map.

“Los Indios is only a 40-minute drive to Matamoros.” Luke said.

“Looks like we’ve got Lindsey where we need her.” Rossi said.

“Now we put the knife in her hand.” Emily said. We continued working, trying to get anything to match with Lindsey and that would be able to set Spencer free. I must have drank at least six coffees, maybe more. It was light out now, but none of us cared.

“Rick, what have you got?” Luke asked, answering his phone.

“Well, okay, guys, Jack’s gun was used in Mexico the day before Nadie’s murder.” JJ said.

“What? Another Cartel hit?” I asked.

“No, the victim was a Victor Flores. He was a local real estate broker, a model citizen.” She said.

“Point-blank. Back of the head, with a modified hollow-point bullet. That’s Lindsey, alright.” Rossi said looking at the file.

“Why are we only hearing about it now?” Walker asked.

“Because it was in Monterrey. It’s a different jurisdiction.” JJ answered.

“Okay, so, she crosses the border at Los Indios, which is very close to Matamoros, drives three hours west to Monterrey, kills Victor, and then drives four hours east to Matamoros?” Tara asked confused.

“All possible within a day’s drive.” Walker said.

“Sure, but why go to all the trouble?” Tara asked.

“Why pick Victor Flores?” Emily asked.

“It sounds too random to be random…” I said shaking my head.

“Alright. Alright, thanks, Rick. I owe you.” Luke said and hung up.

“Mexican authorities found an abandoned truck last week that matches the one Reid described. It was dumped two states over.” Luke said.

“Did it belong to a Victor Flores?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” He asked.

“Lindsey killed him before Nadie. Must have stolen his truck too.” Rossi said.

“Alright, well, we’re making some real headway here.”Luke said.

“Yeah, it’s great guys, don’t get me wrong, but it’s all circumstantial. Garcia, any luck finding Lindsey’s prints from her Witsec file?” Emily asked.

“I called in every favor I can think of and then some. It’s gonna take me, like, five more hours to cut through all this red tape.” Garcia answered.

“I have to be at the courthouse in one.” Emily said and we continued to go back to work.

Emily left soon after and we all kept working. We hoped that we could get something in time, but the odds were against us. An hour later my phone rang and I saw Emily’s name pop up on my screen.

“Emily?” I answered confused and everyone’s eyes were on me.

“I need you to go to the prison that Reid is at and bring him home.” She said and my eyes started to water.

“A-Are you serious?” I asked.

“I am, bring him home Y/N.” She said and I hung up immediately.

“What’s going on?” Garcia asked.

“I have to go, I have to go get Spencer.” I said with a smile.

“He’s coming home?” JJ asked and I nodded.

“Yeah.” I nodded and everyone smiled.

“I’m coming with you.” JJ said.

“Me too, I gotta take care of something there.” Luke said.

“I’m coming too!” Garcia said and I just nodded at them. I quickly gathered my stuff and rushed to my car. My Spencer was finally coming home. They were driving in a separate car from me. I got to the prison as quickly as I could and soon after they brought me to a room with Spencer standing there. Spencer saw me and smiled slightly.

“We’re taking you home baby.” I said with a smile and a tear falling down my face. He looked relieved and I rushed over to hug him.

“You’re coming home Spence.” I whispered. He held me tightly and started sobbing. I held him tightly. He kissed the side of my head and everything just felt so right in that moment. Spencer got dressed in the suit we brought him and we walked out to see Garcia standing there waiting. He went up and hugged her and I smiled.

“Let’s get my Mom back.” He said.

“Yeah.” Garcia said and we all left. We got back to the office and we were catching Spencer up on everything.

“So we know Lindsey convinced Scratch to run drugs across the border.” Luke said.

“And that Lindsey’s been operating from to locations- An apartment next to Reid and a house in southeast D.C.” Rossi said.

“That’s where we think she’s keeping your Mom.” Walker said.

“Scratch isn’t afraid to plot an elaborate trap. I want a full breakdown of that house before we set one foot inside.” Emily said and everyone walked off, except for Spencer and I.

“Um… Spencer…” Emily said stopping us and closing the door.

“You can’t officially go until you’re reinstated.” She said.

“So that includes going to my apartment, since it’s a crime scene.” Spencer said.

“That’s right. It’s sealed and guarded by Metro P.D. But you are the resident. You got it?” She said.

“Got it.” He said and she left. Spencer took a step up to the closed door, but just stared at it.

“Are you alright?” I asked and he looked at me.

“Um… it’s, uh, it’s open.” I said and he looked back at the door.

“Of course.” He said and opened the door. We went to Spencer’s place and I had to show the guard my badge.

“He’s the resident. He’s just gonna grab a few things.” I said and the cop nodded. Spencer sat on his couch and started looking at an open photo album.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This picture was on a different page.” He said and picked it up. He flipped it over and on the back in red it said XX-XY.

“Does that mean anything to you?” I asked.

“Only the obvious, male and female chromosomes, Lindsey’s way of telling us she’s with Scratch.” He said and I sighed.

“Let’s grab some things and you can stay at my place.” I said.

“Yeah…” He said. We grabbed a bag of clothes and dropped them off at my apartment. Emily had called me and told me all about what was going on. Spencer had to go back to prison to see Cat Adams. I was going with him. We got on the jet and made our way to Car Adams. We walked into the other side of the interview room, we saw Cat sitting at the table. I saw Spencer was comfortable, but this was the only option to find his mother right now.

“I’ll be here the whole time, promise.” I said and gently grabbed his hand. He nodded and walked inside, I followed, but stayed in the back.

“Spencie.” Cat said with a smile.

“Where’s my Mother?” He asked.

“I missed you.” She said.

“What did you and Lindsey do to her?” He asked, ignoring her.

“How did you-”

“No stop! You don’t get to walk in here and hiss at me like I’m the criminal.” She said cutting him off.

“Now, we do this my way.” She said and kicked the chair in front of her. Spencer caught it as she told him to sit. Spencer sat as I stayed on the side watching.

“How was Prison? Did you like it?” She asked.

“No.” He answered.

“It’s not fun, is it?” She asked.

“Unlike you, I didn’t deserve to be there.” He said.

“How did you stay sane?” She asked leaning closer. I was confused as to who she was or what her and Spencer’s past connection was. Her case was before I was even on the team. I had only joined three years ago and Spencer and I have only been together for two.

“A brain like yours needs stimulation in such a gray place.” She said.

“I worked in the laundry room and I played chess.” He answered.

“That’s three, maybe four hours, tops. What about the other twenty?” She asked.

“I read.” He answered.

“That’s still not enough. You have to… go someplace. Up here.” She said looking at me for a split second.

“Or else you go crazy.” She said with a slight laugh.

“Do you want to see where I go? I’ll show you. Com here.” She said, motioning him to come closer. Spencer leaned in closer and she went to touch his face.

“No touching.” I said and she stopped. Spencer looked at me then back at her and she smirked at me.

“Close your eyes.” She said and moved his eyes to close them.

“Good. Now keep them shut. Sit back and relax.” She said leaning back in her chair. Spencer also leaned back.

“Now, when you open your eyes, I want you to look at me like I’m the first woman you’ve seen after being in prison for three month.” She said and my heart clenched at this. She looked at me and smirked then looked back at him.

“Now… Open.” She said and he did.

“Hello Cat.” He said with a smile.

“You’re here!” She giggled.

“You’re really here.” She said.

“There’s nowhere else I would rather be.” Spencer said and I took a deep breath, this is what he needs to do to get the information.

“You’re good at this. You’re so good at this, I almost believe you don’t want to kill me.” She said crossing her arms.

“I don’t want to kill you.” He said.

“No?” She asked.

“No.” He said, shaking his head.

“What if I let your Mother die? Then would you kill me? Or would you just… hurt me? Would you pin me down and leave bruises that don’t go away?” She asked with a very sexual tone.

“Is that what you want?” He asked and my eyes widened slightly.

“I guess I just want to know if you would.” She said and glanced at me with a smirk.

“If you could.” She said looking back at him.

“No.” He said.

“No?” She asked.

“That’s not the kind of man I am.” He said.

“Do me a favor and tell your girlfriend over there to step aside, because we’re gonna play another game. And this time, we’re going to find out exactly what kind of man you are. I’m sure she’ll love to watch that.” She said. Spencer looked over at me and gave me a nod. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Spencer alone with her, but I left anyway and she gave me a wave goodbye. I was now watching from behind the glass, luckily I could still hear them.

“Let’s play.” He said.

“Let’s!” She said excitedly.

“Are you hungry?” She asked him.

“No.” He answered.

“Me neither.” She said.

“So, the same game as last time?” He asked leaning back in the chair.

“I answer every question you ask honestly?” He asked.

“No, this time you get to ask the questions.” She said.

“About what?” He asked.

“Well, I know a secret. About you. And you can ask me as many questions as you like to figure it out. But you only get one guess as to what it is.” She said leaning forward.

“Now, guess correctly, I take your phone, I call our friend Lindsey, and I tell her to release your Mother unharmed. If you don't…” She said and put her fingers into a gun shape and stuck it in her mouth. She then mimed like she was getting shot and giggled.

“Is there a clock?” Spencer asked.

“There’s always a clock.” She said and put her hand out.

“Give it to me.” She said. Spencer took off his watch and handed it to her.

“You’ll have four hours.” She said and he went to ask a question, but she stopped him.

“Not yet.” She said.

“You have to wait till the second hand comes around.” She said.

“You want to give me a hint before we start?” Spencer asked.

“Do I look like a girl that gives hints?” She asked.

“Actually you do.” He said.

“Okay, how about this? It’s a secret you’ll never admit to.” She said and I furrowed my brow.

“Go.” She said. It’s been half an hour, I told the team that we had four hours to find Diana or she’s dead.

“I know what the secret is.” Spencer said.

“You do?” She asked.

“Why else would you put me through all this?” He asked.

“Ooo. Phrasing it in the form of a question. That way it doesn’t count as a guess. Very smart, Doctor.” She said.

“I’m gonna walk you through a scenario and your face is gonna tell me how close I am.” He said.

“From the moment I arrested you, you watched and waited for the right time to take your revenge. When you learned I was going to Mexico, you took it. You and Lindsey framed me for murder so I’d be in prison and treated like a criminal, and then you kidnapped my Mother so I would know how it feels to have a parent manipulated, because you wanted to prove that you and I are the same. Am I right?” He asked and she yawned.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold that in any longer. What were you saying?” She asked.

“Psychopaths get bored easily.” He said.

“You’re right. Let’s speed this up.” She said getting up.

“Shall we?” She asked and sat on his lap. Jealousy raged through my body, but I kept watching.

“Why don’t you think about all the pain you’ve suffered in your life. What would I capitalize on, do you think? Is it the death of your mentor, SSA Jason Gideon? ” She asked while touching his chest and face.

“No. Because we caught the man who killed him.” Spencer said.

“What about Agent Morgan? And your guilt over not visiting his little boy.” She said.

“I was in prison.” He said.

“Yeah, but you had time before that.” She said moving her face closer to his. I was feeling so uncomfortable and jealous, but I had to stay perfectional and Spencer was just playing into her fantasies to get what we needed, right?

“Why didn’t you go?” She asked.

“Truthfully, I got distracted. I was trying to figure out a way to help my Mom. She didn’t have time. Morgan, Savannah, and little Bobby did. So there’s absolutely no shame in admitting that. Morgan would understand.” He answered as she nipped at his ear. That wasn't Morgan's son…

“I agree. That’s why that’s not the secret.” She whispered and got off him. He looked back at me and I smiled.

“Good job baby.” I said and pulled out my phone.

“Go ahead, Y/N.” Rossi answered.

“So Cat has deep background on Spence. She knew about Gideon’s death and Morgan leaving the team for his family.” I said.

“She’s throwing him off-balance.” He said.

“Yeah, but Spence also purposely gave the wrong name of Morgan’s son, and she didn’t correct him.” I said.

“She must have gotten her hands on Reid’s confidential FBI file. It would mention relevant team information but wouldn’t name Morgan’s baby because of confidentiality reasons.” Emily said.

“We were thinking she’s been getting help from someone inside the prison. This goes deeper than that.” Rossi said.

“I’ll keep you guys updated.” I said and hung up.

“Working deductively, the secret wouldn’t be any of the topics you’ve already volunteered, because you wouldn’t want to make it that easy on me.” Spencer said after a few minutes of silence.

“Genius, truly.” Cat said, playing with his watch.

“So what is left that I wouldn’t want to admit?” He asked and they stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Love.” Spencer finally said and my eyes widened. My heart rate picked up and I gulped. Cat stopped playing with his watch and just stared at him.

“Is that what this is all about, love?” He asked leaning forward.

“For my Mother?” He asked and she just stared.

“No. For you.” He said and I felt a pain in my chest.

“You want me to admit that I am actually in love with you.” He said.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my fairy tales, clearly, as much as the next girl, but I’m not delusional.” She said.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked.

“Very sure. So sure, in fact, that I had Lindsey leave a clue for you in your little scrapbook in your house.” She said with a smirk. XX-XY.

“I couldn’t have you come all the way down here and make a guess until I was positive. That is…” She said looking down at her stomach and my eyes widened.

“Until I tested positive.” She said placing her hands on her stomach.

“What, you’re pregnant?” Spencer asked.

“We’re pregnant.” She said and it felt like my heart leaped out of my chest. No. No it couldn’t be possible…

“No.” Spencer said, shaking his head.

“Oh, yes. Mazel tov.” She said. I needed to know. The team needed to know. I asked one of the guards for her records and waited for them.

“Here you are ma’am.” A guard said, handing me the files.

“Thank you.” I said and immediately checked them. She was pregnant. Her due date was November 15th 2017… I looked up in complete shock.

“It’s not possible. Even if you are pregnant, the baby’s not mine.” Spencer said, now standing.

“Except for the part where it is.” She said.

“That’s completely preposterous. You’ve been in prison.” He said sitting back down.

“So have you.” She said.

“And we’ve never had-”

“I know. We’ve never…” She said.

“Ask me how I did it. Come on, ask me.” She said.

“Ask her…” I whispered.

“How did you do it?” He asked.

“I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood.” She said with a little laugh.

“What, did she pretend to be you?” He asked and I bit my lip.

“Why, would that have worked?” She asked.

“No.” He answered leaning closer to her.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid hot or not list.” She said.

“So you told her to pretend to be Y/N.” He said.

“No. I told her to pretend to be Maeve.” She said and my eyes widened.

“Maeve Donovan. The love of your life.” He said and my heart broke. I knew Spencer loved her at one point, she was his first and she was taken from him. But when we met he said he was over her, that it was in the past…

“Who had her brains blown out right in front of you before you two could even kiss. So dark… Yet, so useful.” She said.

“You’re lying.” He said, slightly shaking his head.

“Spencer, it’s Maeve. It’s okay. Spencer, Spencer… Spencer, it’s Maeve. It’s okay. Come here. Shh. You want this. It’s okay. You want this.” She said in a soft voice.

“It didn’t happen.” Spencer said.

“Hey, I was thinking, if it’s a boy, we should definitely call him Spencie junior.” She said and spencer got up to leave.

“But if it’s a girl, I think we should call her Maeve.” She said and Spencer walked out.

“I mean, after all she played such a huge role in her own conception.” She said and Spencer stood next to me.

“Spence, we might have something.” I said and he took the files from me.

“She’s three months.” I said and Spencer threw the files at the window.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you.” He said and I nodded.

“I just need a minute.” He said and I bit my lip.

“Is she right?” I asked quietly and he turned to look at me.

“What?” He asked.

“That Maeve is the love of your life?” I asked. I knew I should wait, Spencer had so much to deal with right now, but I needed to know. I needed to know if our whole relationship was just a lie for him to get over Maeve, or if it was real.

“I told you about this already.” He said and I nodded.

“But are we just together because you can’t be with her?” I asked and he looked at me with wide eyes.

“No, no of course not!” He said, but a part of me didn’t believe him.

“I don’t believe you Spencer…” I said.

“Now’s not the time for this!” He shouted and I flinched. Spencer has never raised his voice before.

“I’m gonna go call the team…” I said and walked off. I took out my phone to call the team, but my phone rang first.

“Y/N, you there?” Emily asked when I picked up.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, go ahead.” I said trying to compose myself.

“So far we don’t have anything on the prison employees. Somebody in there is helping her, but nobody jumps out as the obvious culprit, and it doesn’t help that they’re blocking us at every turn.” Luke said.

“We have something, but, uh, it’s out there.” Tara said.

“I’ll take out there.” Emily said.

“The gun store owner was more of a libertarian than you would think. He talked about how he never judged his customers or who they love.” Walker said.

“That’s weird.” JJ said.

“Yeah, not as weird as when he mentioned Obergefell.” Tara said.

“The supreme court decision that legalized gay marriage.” Emily said.

“You said we were missing something in the relationship between these two women. What if it’s this?” Walker said.

“The risks that Lindsey’s taking, the bond she has with Cat, it’s not professional. It’s romantic.” Tara said.

“This casts a big shadow over Lindsey’s next move. By exposing their plan to us, she knows there’s no happy ending, no future with Cat.” Walker said.

“And she’s going to take Reid’s Mother with her. And that’s the ultimate act of revenge against the guy who took her lover away.” JJ said.

“Y/N, what do you have?” Emily asked.

“Can you take me off speaker?” I asked.

“Okay, it’s just us now.” She said.

“Cat is three months pregant and she’s claiming it’s Reid’s…” I said.

“Are you kidding me? Are you kidding?” She asked.

“Well, here’s where it gets tricky. Do we believe her or not?” I asked.

“On the one hand, getting pregnant is a power control move straight out of the female psychopath handbook. On the other hand-”

“If her story is true, it meant she sent her lesbian lover down to Mexico to get Reid to- Ugh.” Emily said, finishing my thought.

“Yeah… Either way, she is pregnant. I just refuse to believe it belongs to Spence…” I said choking up a little.

“It could be the person inside the prison who’s been helping her. Getting pregnant serves two purposes- Gasslighting Reid and emotional blackmail against that employee.” She said.

“Yeah, but, Emily, we don’t know who that guy is yet. And Luke and Rossi aren’t going to in the time we have left.” I said.

“Y/N, I gotta call you back.” She said and hung up. I sighed and walked back to Spencer, he had gone back inside.

“Let’s pretend you’re telling the truth. That means I guessed it, right? The secret, the one I don’t want to admit to? It’s my child?” Spencer said.

“Is that your guess? You only get one, remember?” Cat asked.

“No. it’s too easy.” He said.

“Believe me, getting pregnant with your baby was not easy.” She said.

“You misunderstand. It’s too easy emotionally. Because I can take your child from you. The child I had absolutely no role in creating, but a child that I would care for better than you.” He said and I gulped.

“That’s rude.” She said.

“It’s true. You can’t be a Mother, Cat. I’m not trying to insult you. It’s your psychological makeup. You literally do not have the emotional skills to care for another human being. You’d lose interest in your own baby the way a six year old loses interest in a pet hamster. This baby is simply a means to an end, which is to keep me here playing your game, guessing like a fool, assuming something I never should have assumed in the first place.” He said.

“And what would that be?” She asked.

“My Mother’s already dead.” He said and I shook my head. No. That can’t be right.

“She was dead before I walked in here.” He said.

“She’s not dead.” Cat shook her head.

“Yes she is.” Spencer said getting up.

“No, because that would be cheating and I don’t cheat! You cheat!” She said.

“I’m done playing.” Spencer said.

“Get back here!” She said.

“Goodbye, Cat.” He said opening the door.

“I’ll let you talk to her!” She said which made him stop in the doorway. He looked at me and I looked at him in shock. He smiled and walked back in. I quickly called Garcia.

“Yes, I’m here.” She answered.

“Garcia, get ready to trace a call on Spence’s phone.” I said.

“Fired up, plugged in. Ready to go.” She said. Spencer handed her his phone and she called Lindsey.

“You’re early.” Lindsey answered.

“Yeah, I know.” Cat said.

“Did he guess?” She asked.

“No, not yet. We need proof of life.” Cat said.

“Alright. Hold on.” She said.

“Spencer!” Diana said scared, only a moment later. Spencer grabbed the phone out of Cat’s hand so fast.

“Mom! Mom, are you okay?” He asked.

“I don’t… know.” She answered and then there was a gunshot.

“Mom!” Spencer called.

“Gotta go.” Lindsey said and hung up.

“Mom! What the hell was that?” Spencer asked and I quickly rushed inside.

“I don’t know.” Cat answered.

“Spence…” I said trying to calm him.

“Lindsey said you were early. Was that a signal?” He asked.

“No.” She answered and Spencer slammed the table.

“Was that a prearranged signal to kill my Mother!?” He shouted.

“No!” She shouted.

“Spencer-”

“Tell me the truth!” He shouted.

“I am!” She shouted back.

“Tell me the truth!” He shouted again.

“I am!” She shouted back.

“You wanna know the truth? Your Mother is an alzheimer’s-ridden moron who’s getting dumber day by day, and if she’s dead, it’s your fault.” Cat said. Spencer shoved the table away and grabbed Cat. He shoved her up against the wall and wrapped his hands around her neck.

“Spence!” I shouted and tried to pull him off her.

“I’m going to kill you.” He whispered to her.

“Spence!”

“I’m going to kill you.” He said again.

“Spence, she’s pregnant. She’s pregnant Spencer! Stop it! Come on!” I said and finally pulled him off her.

“Come on.” I said and pushed him to the other side of the room. He walked out. I made sure she was alright and ignored her teasing comments about how she was having his baby and how I was protecting their baby.

“How does it feel knowing he really only loves Maeve and you’re just her replacement?” She asked and I took a deep breath and walked out of the room. My phone rang and it was Garcia. She told me about what the explosion was. I walked into the hall where Spencer was sitting with his head against his knee.

“Richmond County police just reported a gas station explosion. One victim, a male. Whatever Lindsey did, we have to assume your Mom’s still alive.” I said and he just looked up at me.

“Hey.” I said and sat down next to him.

“I’m really scared this is who I am now.” He said.

“No, don’t say that.” I said.

“Y-Y/N, you don’t know…” He trailed off.

“I do know. I know two inmates, Frazier and Duerson, killed your friend Delgado in front of you. And I know they wanted you to move their heroin, and I also know that if you didn't you would have been next, right?” I asked and he looked down at the floor in shame. He nodded, but still didn’t look at me.

“Spence, anyone in your spot would have done the same thing.” I said.

“You wouldn’t have.” He said.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would have, Spence. Because if someone was threatening my life, You bet your ass I would. I would do it a million times if it meant I got to eventually come home to you. It doesn’t make you a bad person.” I said and he looked at me for a second before looking back down.

“Because you know who does think like that, that- that doing what you had to do to survive somehow makes you a psychopath? She does.” I said and realization hit me. I looked over at Spencer and he had the same look on his face.

“She does. She does. Because she- she knows.” I said quietly.

“That’s the secret.” He said getting up.

“What I don’t want to admit about myself.” He said and I got up as well.

“Hold on, let’s play this out, because she will not lose to you twice. She already said that this wasn’t about you two being the same.” I said.

“And she’s all about the game. She thinks that I cheated last time because I lied about her dad, so it’s integral to her that she beats me by following the rules.” He said.

“Yeah, but, Spence, she controls the rules, and she will change them to ensure that she wins.” I said.

“Which means that I’m locked in.” He said.

“Like she is.” I said.

“And she needs me locked in, playing by her rules a game I can’t win, so she-” He cut himself off and looked at me.

“I got it.” He said and went to turn around, but I stopped him.

“Wait.” I said and he turned back to me.

“I’m sorry…” I said and he looked at me confused.

“For before, I shouldn’t let her get in my head.” I said and he pulled me to him.

“Y/N, I love you, but we both know that there will alway still be some love for Maeve in my heart. That doesn’t mean that you’re a rebound or that I’m using you as a way to replace Maeve, because I’m not. I love you. Everything we have together, is real.” He said and I looked up at him. I pulled him down for a kiss and put all the love I have for this man in it. We pulled away and we were both smiling. I was on the phone calling the team to get everything ready.

“Let’s get your Mom back.” I whispered and he nodded. Spencer Walked back inside and Cat was sitting down playing with his watch again.

“Guess that’s one way to get you to put your hands on me.” She said.

“Dance with me.” He said and she looked up at him.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I don’t want the people watching us to hear what I’m going to say next.” He said and offered her his hand. They started dancing.

“You guys got this up?” I asked.

“Streaming now.” Garcia said.

“Okay, uh, listen, you’re gonna hear a lot of weird stuff, like Spence saying he is the Father of Cat’s baby. Don’t let that distract you.” I said.

“I’m sorry. Full stop. Why would he say he’s the Father-”

“Quiet.” Emily said cutting Garcia off.

“You had eyes on me while I was in prison, didn’t you?” Spencer asked.

“Spencie, don’t ruin the moment.” Cat said.

“I don’t want to, but I’m on the clock. Answer my question. Am I right?” He asked.

“Yes, you’re right. I wanted to make sure things were just as uncomfortable for you as they were for me.” She answered.

“That’s what we missed, the inside man that’s been helping them.” Luke said.

“He didn’t just work at Cat’s prison, he worked at hers and Reid’s.” Rossi said.

“Garcia, look for any overlap.” Emily said.

“Compiling now.” Garcia said.

“Here’s something. Lionel Wilkins. He worked at both Mount Pleasant and The Millburn Correctional Facility.” She said.

“Okay look, this guy could have gotten her pregnant, but there’s no way he could have gotten his hand on Reid’s file.” JJ said.

“Well, not directly. He could have called in a favor from a friend at the bureau.” Walker said.

“So someone must have wanted to screw us this whole time.” Tara said.

“Someone who’s not gonna work for the bureau much longer.” Emily said.

“That’s how you timed everything so perfectly. Like sending my Mom and Lindsey to visit me when I thought was at my lowest.” He said.

“Thought? You sure you weren’t?” She asked.

“No, I wasn’t. Because I didn’t feel bad. I felt scared. At how much I enjoyed poisoning the other prisoners. I had a hundred ways of getting myself out of that situation, and I picked the one that would cause them the most pain.” He said.

“Well, look at that. You might end up saving your Mother’s life after all.” She said.

“Okay, Lionel Wilkins’ primary residence is in Fall Church, but I also have a second address. Uh, it’s a cabin off of the Rappahannock River.” Garcia said.

“Well the cabin is in Lindsey’s zone based on the gas station.” Walker said.

“Helos are on the roof warming up. Let’s go.” Emily said and hung up.

“They won’t get there in time. They must be on their way, right?” Cat asked.

“Your team is too good to wait around, but, you know me. I always have a contingency plan. So, they’re walking into a trap. And the only way out is if you give me your phone and your guess, right now.” She said. Spencer handed her his phone and she sat down.

“When we first sat down, you said you were going to show me what kind of man I am. And you have.” He said, sitting on the corner of the table.

“Every time I touch this, you’re getting warmer.” Cat said.Garcia was calling Emily to facetime her so she could show Lindsey everything.

“At first I was furious, because the secret had to be the baby inside you. How could it be anything else? But then I realized that somehow, you knew I liked hurting those men. But now I know it’s both things.” Spencer said.

“So which is it, Spence? Come on. Don’t fumble it now. You’re at the one-yard line.” Cat said.

“You’re not pregnant with my child. You got pregnant with Wilkins to put me in as compromised a position as possible. But it should be mine. I wish it were mine. Because you and I… We deserve each other. That is the real secret.” He said and she pressed the call button.

“Kill her.” Cat said.

“Lindsey, I said-” She said getting up, but stopped talking. Cat looked at the camera and glared slightly.

“Lindsey, sweetheart, it’s complicated, okay?” She said.

“Y/N, we got her.” Emily said.

“We’re clear.” I said walking into the room and Cat hung up. Spencer took his phone and turned back to me.

“Is my Mom okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, she’s fine.” I answered with a smile.

“We do deserve each other, by the way. You guessed right.” Cat said sitting back down.

“You lied, by the way. You were going to kill my Mother regardless.” He said.

“Yeah, I think you really liked hurting those men. And once you cross that line, you can’t ever go back.” She said. Spencer walked over to her and grabbed her arm. He took his watch back and looked her right in the eyes.

“Watch me.” He whispered and we left. We went back to the office and Spencer was so excited to see his mother again. We walked out of the elevator and the team with his Mother, she looked uncomfortable.

“Spencer’s here.” Emily whispered. Diana looked over at him and they both went to hug each other.

“Hi, Mom.” He said holding her close.

“Don’t leave me. Every again.” She pulled away to say.

“I won’t.” He said and I smiled at them. They pulled apart again and Spencer smiled at me.

“Y/N! You should come visit more.” His Mother said and came to hug me. I hugged her back and laughed slightly.

“I will, I promise.” I said. We pulled apart and we went back to his apartment. Everything was going to be okay.

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