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six-eyed-samurai · 6 months ago

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Hello ! (I’m not sure if your requests are open but I love your fics so I really wanted to try 😭) Could you maybe write a Genya x Male reader one ? Where like Genya deals with confusion and internalised homophobia after realising he fell in love with a guy ? IM SO SORRY IF YOU DONT DO MALE READERS OR SMTH LIKE THAT, HAVE A GOOD DAY !!

SUMMARY: Genya's emotionally constipated. It's the Shinazugawa genes - but even more so when it comes to...guys?!

A/N: KYAAH Ty anon glad you enjoyed, and DW my inbox is open anytime I'm just a little slow in writing rn because of exams and I'm moving house. I have done male reader before but I'm not too used to writing gay T-T so I'm sorry if this turned out the way you wanted

WARNINGS: Male reader in case you don't read the asks and only warnings/Minor swearing

Much romance happens at Kimetsu Academy.

There's Zenitsu and Nezuko, although Genya considers it more of an obsession on the blonde’s end seeing as Nezuko doesn't openly display any signs of liking him back romantically, whatever the delusional idiot thinks. There's also Tanjiro and Kanao, the perfect epitome of friends to lovers. And whatever Aoi and Inosuke have going on.

But none of that ever happened to Genya. Sure, he thought the occasional girl was pretty or nice, but aside from the fact he explodes into a tomato just from a simple “hello” he's never been actually interested. Of course that occasionally made him feel a bit left out amongst his friends, like he was missing something great, but hey, Muichiro and him would be single pringles forever and that was fine.

(Genya's very betrayed to find out Muichiro had received a confession…and was considering accepting it.)

But it was a little unbelievable to the Kamaboko Squad that in all of the sixteen years of his life he had never had a crush, hence the interrogation they were giving him that particular day during lunch.

“Have you never fallen in love? At all?!” Genya wants to snort; as if Zenitsu would ever notice anybody else's love life but his own.

“HAHAHAHAA! LOSER!”

Tanjiro calmly shoved Inosuke away from a fuming Genya, smiling brightly. “I'm sure Genya has one! And we'll be more than happy to help him confess!”

“Aren't crushes supposed to be secret-”

“Then we have to figure out who it is first!” Zenitsu hollers.

“No-”

“Is it Kocho?!”

Kanao, Tanjiro and Genya both look scandalised but Zenitsu barrels on. Aoi face palms. Inosuke steals everyone's food.

“Is it Kanrojii?!”

“Why is everyone you're listing so much older than me!”

“OKAY, OKAY! Uh…Koyuki-”

“SHE'S ENGAGED TO SOMEONE ELSE!”

“Sheesh, I got it, stop yelling! That Shabana girl?”

“Just why-”

“Maybe Genya does like someone but just doesn't realize it,” Kanao offers timidly.

“That's a good point, Kanao!” Tanjiro beams, causing Genya and Kanao to flush red but for entirely different reasons.

“How am I supposed to know if I like someone?”

“If you find them cute?”

“That seems really superficial,” Aoi says disapprovingly.

“You'll get really nervous around them, like your heart speeds up. You'll probably stare at them a lot too, and want to do lots of things for them, maybe hold open doors?” Tanjiro nods wisely.

“And they're the first person you look at to see if they're laughing at a joke,” Kanao agrees.

Genya considers. “Then none of the girls you just listed, honestly.”

“It's alright, you'll find the one for you one day. There's no rush now.”

“HAHAHA! TENYA IIDA IS GOING TO BE ALONE FOREVER! HAHAHHAA!”

“MY NAME IS GENYA!”

***

Truth be told Genya had lied.

It wasn't a lie exactly either. More of…an avoidance of the truth. He didn't feel that way about any girls Zenitsu had mentioned, or any of the girls at school.

But he did like someone, yes.

Or no. Definitely not. It couldn't possibly be.

“Oh, hey, Shinazugawa.” Your simple wave as you joined his side outside the classroom door was enough to get his heart pounding and slightly sweaty like he had just suffered an entire class with the gym teacher Tomioka.

“Thanks for holding the door!” You call out over your shoulder, flashing him a bright smile while entering the class and taking your seat. You immediately turn to start talking with your friends, something Genya's extreme thankfully for because then you can't see the tomato red that's painting his face as he's still stuck, frozen and speechless, by the door. Only Iguro-sensei’s cold “Do you plan to have the lesson by the door or something?” Shook him out of it.

You're so confusing, Genya thinks, averting his eyes when you catch his with a mouthed “oops” and raised eyebrows, because he wants to revel in your attention and hide in a hole from it at the same time.

It was a pleasant kind of confusion, though. The kind he wouldn't mind thinking about forever; it gave him an oddly warm, fidgety feeling inside like he had just drunk an entire thermos of hot chocolate and got marshmallows to top it off. Then he promptly slaps himself (mentally) because he shouldn't be thinking about this, that and you.

Not like it stopped him from staring at the back of your head all through class. He doesn't realize it until your friend turns their head around and makes a face at him, leaning closer to you to whisper something. Genya panics and ducks his head, burying it into his arms for a few minutes before he judges it's safe to look up.

And when he does you're smiling at him knowingly, as if the both of you knew something the rest don't. Oh good lord.

Your laughter is something Genya wishes he could make as well, when the whole class watches Iguro-sensei trying to tell Inosuke off, but the dumbass can't get the teacher’s name right at all. He finds himself laughing as well, a combination of that and because of you before it hits him.

“You'll get really nervous around them, like your heart speeds up. You'll probably stare at them a lot too, and want to do lots of things for them, maybe hold open doors?”

Oh shit. Check, check, check.

“And they're the first person you look at to see if they're laughing at a joke.”

And check?!

Shit shit shit shit shit-

Genya groans. He does like you after all.

But that's not right, it's got to be wrong.

You're a boy. Genya's not gay…at least he didn't think so…Then again he's never actually liked a girl. But he's never liked a boy either. Until you.

Forget it! You're not a crush, you're the reason why Genya is going to drive himself crazy right now! Hell, why did the idea feel so wrong but so right at the same time?

Genya rubbed his temples. If he was being honest the idea only seemed so wrong because…well, because he's just never considered that possibility before. It just hasn't really occured to him he might be attracted to the same gender. It's a new concept, yes, but…not really a terrible one. He got all red with girls yes but it wasn't because he like-liked them or thought they were cute.

Was crushing on a guy really going to be any different than a girl then? Genya groaned again. Judging by his behaviour these days…yeah, not really.

Okay, then if hypothetically he DID like you and he liked guys…how would Sanemi and his friends react? Would they still want to hang out with him? Would Sanemi still…consider him his brother? What would his mom think?

What a headache. What would…you think? It'd be pretty embarrassing to like you and you're straight, Genya thought. Then again was he even sure he was gay, even certain he had a big fat crush on you?

“Hey, you alright?” The voice startles Genya out of his thoughts. He lifts up his head and looks around, startled to see everyone's left. Shit, he hadn't even realized class was over. Idiot.

He glances to his left and nearly dies of fright.

You cock an eyebrow. “Um, seeing a ghost, Genya?”

“No!” He just about shouts, flailing his arms as he tries to stop himself from falling out of his chair. “I'm fine! Really! Sorry…just, just kinda out of it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Yeah, let's talk about how I've just realized I might be-

“It's fine, it's nothing important.” Genya notices your fidgeting however. “What about you?”

You hesitate. You're playing with your sleeves quite nervously. It's making him paranoid.

“I'm just…there's a new arcade that just opened up.”

“Sounds fun,” Genya offers. He's got barely enough brain cells still functioning from the close proximity between you both.

“I was wondering - um, do you wanna go with me? I can buy all the tokens,” you quickly blurted out and held your breath.

“Sure.”

“N-no. Just you and me. Like on a date.” You rub the back of your neck, looking away. “No - no pressure or anything! I know you might not be into guys, you might already like a girl-"

“You're gay.”

You wince at his tone. Genya wishes he hadn't sounded so accusing. “Last I checked, yeah.”

“Sounds fun,” Genya repeats dumbly, because holy shit, you like him you like guys too he likes guys he really wants to go to the arcade with you oh thank god-

You blink. “So that's a…yes?”

“Absolutely.” Genya waves his hands frantically. “If you're still up for it! Nothing’s awkward! I - I do want to go as a date, not as friends, and, uh-"

He snaps his head away, embarrassed, but he glances back long enough to see you grinning like you've won the lottery.

"Does 2 pm work for you?"

Shit. He really does like you after all. And with the way you're smiling at him like that maybe he can deal with whatever bullshit that's going to come next.

***

“Hey Genya, do you want to come over this weekend?”

“Muichiro wants to go to that pizza place again.”

The Tokito twins stare at him expectantly over the usual din of the Kamaboko Squad's usual shenanigans. Now or never.

“Sorry, I'm busy.”

“With what?” Muichiro looks out off; Yuichiro frowns in surprise.

“With someone.”

The silence was so thick you could've cut it with a knife - or Zenitsu's screaming.

“WHO?”

“HAR?!”

“Is it a date?” Tanjiro managed to slap a hand over the blonde's mouth while Aoi deals with Inosuke. The twins and Kanao's mouths hang open in surprise.

Genya picked at his food. “Yeah. At the new arcade.”

“Congratulations!”

“I thought you were planning to be single forever-”

“Shut up, Mui!”

“With who?"

He says your name and again the silence is thick.

Tanjiro's eyes light up in recognition and shock. “Isn't that the new boy?”

Genya nods stiffly.

“You're…gay?” Kanao asks tentatively.

Genya nods again.

“I had no idea! I never would've guessed either.” Tanjiro shakes his head, stunned. Much to Genya's relief…he's smiling? “But good for you, Genya, I'm sure you'll enjoy the date!”

This wasn't so bad after all. It's like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. Now it's just how well…Sanemi will take it and his family. Probably not as easy.

“I thought it was a little weird you rejected that cute girl the other day.” Muichiro looks excited. “Now I've got a gay best friend!”

“What are you, twelve?” Yuichiro grumbles, but turns to Genya. “Have a good time then.”

“THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE! DON'T SHOCK US LIKE THAT, GENYA!” Zenitsu finally squawks, clutching his heart.

“Wait, what's gay?” Inosuke's lost. “Is Genma happy or something?!”

Never mind.

***

“Damn, I knew you were good at shooting, but basketball too?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, pretending to throw an imaginary ball as Genya throws an actual one through the basket easily.

“Heh, this one's just easy since it's so near.” The machine flashes lights and beeps, displaying a new highest score. “And kinda short.”

“You are pretty tall,” you agreed, counting the leftover tokens. “Hey, we still have enough for that claw machine!”

“Seriously?”

So far the date's going pretty well. Genya hadn't made a fool of himself when you showed up dressed up in that letterman jacket and excitedly tackled him yelling about how you managed to get about an entire bag's worth of tokens. You both had spent your time mostly fooling around playing air hockey, shooting games (he had a moment of crisis before sitting next to you in the cramped space), he got forced to dance with you, you claimed he cheated at the racing, he won you a figurine as an apology for accidentally smacking your hand during Whack-A-Mole. Genya was kind of regretting that now, because you were now convinced Genya had amazing luck and could continue to win you more prizes. But as Sanemi said - a million times - those things were a scam, so Genya compromised by saying if only there was tokens leftover from the basketball game.

Alas and alack, he supposed, but you were already speeding towards the claw machine.

“Come on, come on, almost there, almost there!” Your chanting is barely heard over the obnoxious arcade music but you're practically breathing down his neck.

“Okay, okay, I got it, shut up for a sec.” Genya's grip on the controls is so tight he's actually afraid he might rip out the joystick by mistake like Sanemi last time…although Sanemi had done that on purpose during his rage quit and since had been banned from that particular arcade.

“Dear Kami-sama, please, please, please-”

“SHIT.”

“NOOO! So close!” Your head's tossed back in an exaggerated groan, flipping off the stupid claw that let go just a second too early. “I could've won that Hashira figurine!”

“I was the one playing!” Genya protested.

“I got the tokens!”

“I offered to pay you back! You said no!”

You punched his shoulder playfully. “Hey, this was supposed to be my treat. You can pay for the next date.”

“Next - next what-"

“Oh jeez, your face is so red now. Let's get some fresh air; I know a good dessert store.”

Genya's down bad alright.

***

“Where the hell have you been?”

It's already late by the time Genya lets himself into the house. His siblings should've been asleep, his mom too, so hopefully he could…uh, break the news the next day, when he's written and planned everything out, chewed off his nails and get that support you promised him earlier.

Luck had decided to abandon him since his second attempt at the claw machine however, since now he's been caught kicking off his shoes and smiling down at his phone, at the picture you've sent him of the figurine in your shelf.

>>Maybe I'll get more from you

You wi<<

He shuts off his phone quickly. Sanemi’s sitting on the sofa, arms crossed and does not look like a happy camper. Genya tries for an innocent smile. He probably looks like he has a stroke. If Sanemi were a cop, every criminal would be cracking in less than a minute under his interrogations.

“Out with a friend. Sorry I'm late, I was talking them back home.”

“Really? Saw all your friends - Tokito twins and that Kamado kid - earlier today. Try again."

“Someone else.”

“Cut to the chase, Genya, you were out on a date, weren't you?” Sanemi barks.

Genya's shoulders slump. “Yeah. Please don't be mad, I did tell Mom.”

“You should focus on studying. Your math grades are still too low.” Sanemi's expression softens, just slightly. "Who's the lucky girl?"

“Ah.”

“I swear to god, if it's that Shabana girl-”

“It's a guy.”

A very awkward beat of silence.

“WHO?!”

Genya almost expects to be attacked when he says your name. Or mauled after Sanemi demands every detail of what went down at the arcade. Maybe thrashed while finally confessing yes, he's not straight. But not stand there while Sanemi stares at him, strangely quiet.

“You two didn't do anything suspicious?”

Nope. You'd been quite understanding when he admitted he was still kind of getting used to the newness of…all this and offered to save a kiss for next time, causing him to explode into scarlet and try to poke you with his straw. “Aniki!”

“Is this a new thing or have you been…keeping this from me?” Unbelievable. His older brother almost looks hurt by that notion.

“A new thing, I swear, I wasn't planning on keeping anything from you, I was just waiting for the right time and right thing to say and I - I didn't know how you'd react.”

“Well…” Sanemi mutters something unintelligible, eyes moving away slightly.

“Um…what?”

“I SAID, AS LONG AS YOU'RE HAPPY WITH HIM, IT'S FINE BY ME! NOW GO TO SLEEP!”

Genya couldn't stop his grin. “Really? Thank - thank you, Aniki, and okay, I will.”

“And don't do anything too intimate before you're married!”

***

You spat out your straw. “He said what?”

Genya takes a long sip of his latte, slipping his hand into yours. “I didn't make that up.”

“No,” You say, shaking your head. “That sounds like Shinazugawa.”

#sanemi about to get a brother in law 👀👀👀#Sunny's Works #genya x reader #genya x y/n #genya x you #genya shinazugawa x you #genya shinazugawa x reader #genya shinazugawa x y/n #genya x male reader #genya shinazugawa x male reader #x male reader #kny X reader

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bella-rose29 · 1 year ago

Text

paper rings

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 10.2k words

Warnings: mild spoilers for the later books (this is set after TEG and they're all 18+), a LOT of mildly explicit innuendoes and sexual references, swearing

this is my Valentine's Day surprise that I've been talking about, so happy Valentine's Day to you all! <3

based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name

Anthony Lockwood masterlist

It was nearly 2 in the morning, and Y/n L/n was exhausted.

She had been on a case for the last seven hours and everything hurt and ached - including places in her body she didn't even know she had - and she just wanted her bed and an incredibly large cup of tea.

So why was she having to babysit three other agents who really should have been old enough to look after themselves?

Two of them seemed to be high on flare fumes, giggling about absolutely nothing and making weird sounds every few seconds. The third was smiling fondly at his friends and coworkers, but wasn't doing anything to stop them from getting closer and closer to the edge of their sanity.

Y/n sighed for the millionth time in the last ten minutes, and the third agent (the one who wasn't as insane as the other two - she'd nicknamed him Beanpole) looked over from where he was leaning back against the DEPRAC van with his arms crossed. Somehow he looked effortlessly cool and relaxed, despite the plasma stains and dirt covering his entire body.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I'm fine, just want to go home and stop looking after three other agents.”

“Ah, that’s fair. Wait, 'looking after’?”

“Yeah, Barnes told me to keep an eye on you three 'cause you were in trouble or something.”

“Oh, we're not in trouble,” he grinned, and although she rolled her eyes she couldn't deny the way her heart skipped a beat at his smile. “Barnes just likes being dramatic. We didn't do anything.” Somehow she didn't believe him, but the sheer amount of charm that was pouring out of him was making her disregard any concerns she had about how truthful he was being.

“So what is it that you aren't in trouble for then?” His grin only grew wider, and Y/n found herself smiling back.

“Minor property damage. But in our defence our client didn't warn us about the malignant smoke that she'd seen creeping out of the basement or even the intense waves of nausea she felt when walking past her under stairs cupboard. So we really can't take any of the blame for completely decimating her bannisters and front hall. Plus, we're insured.”

“No you're not,” Barnes interrupted, joining the conversation and holding a manilla folder. “You didn't have your DEPRAC standardised iron chains, Lockwood. Not according to this report.” That made Beanpole (Lockwood? Although that didn't sound much like a name) stand up, uncrossing his arms as a frown decorated his pretty face.

“What? But we did, I made sure after Mrs Hope's house.” Y/n didn't know what had happened at Mrs Hope's house, but from the way Barnes was frowning even more than usual and somehow looking even more unimpressed with Beanpole she figured she didn't want to know. “You can go in and check if you like, they're still in the hall.”

“Fine. L/n, you go in and check.”

“What?”

“Just check the chains are there, then come back. They managed to at least get rid of the ghosts.”

“Alright,” she grumbled, hoisting her belt up a little and trudging off in the direction of the building Barnes had pointed her to. She shouldn't even be here, since she was meant to have been at home around half an hour ago, but now she was making her way into some random woman's house to carry out a job that any random DEPRAC officer could have done (if what Barnes had said about the other agents removing the Visitors was true). She pushed open the door, glad for her gloves at the chill in the air, and scoffed when she immediately laid eyes on the thick iron chains that had been kicked to the side in the fight. Y/n picked them up, huffing under the added weight, and was about to turn and leave when her eyes caught on the state of the front hall. “What the actual fuck…” she whispered, then shook her head and closed the door behind her, choosing to ignore the mess inside.

“Well?” Barnes demanded when she'd made her way back. She dropped the chains at his feet.

“Yep. I don't know why I had to do that though, anyone could have looked.” She was being irritable, she knew, but she thought she was perfectly justified in feeling that way.

“Alright.” Barnes looked unhappy about the whole situation too, but that wasn't Y/n's fault. “Then just sign these papers and you three can go.” Beanpole was smiling smugly, and he nodded and took the papers that Barnes handed him.

“Thank you, Inspector. Luce, George, here.” They were both still laughing at something only they knew about, clutching their sides as they took the sheets of paper that Beanpole handed them.

“Can I go home too?” Y/n asked Barnes while the others signed the forms.

“Yeah. Maybe catch a ride with these three, they're your way.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later the four of them were piled into a taxi and heading off down the road in the direction of Marylebone.

“So,” Beanpole started. The moon was shining bright on his face through the taxi window, making him look like a Visitor himself when combined with his already pale skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. He still looked effortlessly gorgeous though, and Y/n found herself wondering if he was single. “You're an agent then. Solo?”

“Oh, yeah. Never liked working for the big companies. They never really cared about the people, you know? Shit,” her eyes widened as she realised what she'd said. “Are you a company?”

“Yes, but don't worry. We have a grand total of four people at our agency. Sometimes five or six if we get extra help from others.”

“That's... very small. Is the fourth your supervisor?”

“No, our secretary actually. Holly doesn't much like being in the field anymore though, but that works out alright for us. She still gets paid a good amount.”

“So if you don't have a supervisor…”

“I'm the agency head,” he smiled, but now instead of appearing chipper and light, he looked tired and weighed down by the responsibility of running a company and looking after his coworkers. “Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co.”

“Y/n L/n, formerly of Fittes.” They shook hands awkwardly in the limited space they had in the back of the taxi.

“And you left because they don't care about the people?”

“That's right. I always wanted to connect more, but I guess that's because of my Touch. Fittes were much more businesslike about it all, just going in and getting the job done and not caring about anything other than having another successful case under their belt. It just didn't sit right with me.”

“Well if you ever feel like working for a company again, you could always come and work with us,” Anthony Lockwood said. “I'm sure we could do with someone like you helping us out. Besides, we do care about the people; it's pretty much the only thing going for us other than our skill in the field.”

“First stop?” the driver called out, slowing the vehicle.

“Oh, that's me,” Y/n stated, grabbing the door handle and getting out. “Thanks for letting me ride with you.” She moved to the boot of the taxi to take her kit bag and rapier, and was surprised when Anthony Lockwood followed her, helping her to balance all the bags inside and making sure that nothing fell out. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. And I mean it, if you ever feel like joining us on a case then just come and find us.”

“That's... that's actually nice of you, thank you.” He nodded with a smile, then clambered back into the taxi (which looked difficult with how long and thin his limbs were). She stood on the pavement for a few moments, waiting for the taxi to start moving again and waving at the three agents left in the cab as they drove off down the road.

As soon as she was inside her shared house, door firmly shut and locked and kettle boiling on the stove, she pulled up the chair at her desk and switched on her computer, typing in her password and logging in. Ten minutes later she had a mug of tea brewing on her desk while she furiously tapped at the keyboard for any information on Lockwood and Co, and was pleasantly surprised by what she found. There wasn't much, since she couldn't access a lot of the full reports of cases, but there was a decent number of newspaper articles that had been uploaded for her to read. One detailed the £60,000 fine that the company had been given for setting fire to a certain Mrs Hope's home a few years prior, and from the blurry black and white photo the blaze looked like it hadn't left much behind.

Further research provided an address for their agency at 35 Portland Row, not far away from where she currently lived. One or two articles were about the parade incident from the Black Winter and Lockwood and Co's success in protecting the people present, but other than that there wasn't much more.

She sat back in her chair, sipping the last of her tea. Bedtime for now, but when she finally woke up she'd head to the nearest corner store and pick up some food. The fridge had been nearly empty when she'd looked earlier, and she knew that Portland Row was on the way back.

She wanted to say thank you again (and totally not spy on their house), and everybody loved a doughnut.

~~~

Y/n had knocked on the door roughly two minutes ago, and nobody had answered.

She knew that they were all at home, because she could hear them arguing about who was going to answer the door, but nobody had done it yet.

Knocking once more while balancing the box of doughnuts in her other hand she sighed, waited another thirty seconds, and just as she turned to leave she heard the locks click behind her. The door swung open to reveal Anthony Lockwood, once more dressed in a suit (a lot cleaner than the one he'd been wearing in the early hours of that morning), and a wide smile on his face.

“It's you! Miss L/n, was it?”

“Uh, yeah. Just Y/n is fine though. Um, I just wanted to say thanks again for the lift last night, and for being nice and shit when you didn't have to be, and I bought some doughnuts if you guys wanted them.” She tried to surreptitiously peer around him to take a look at his front hall, but the interior was quite dark and cluttered and it was difficult to pretend to not be inspecting somebody's home when they were stood in front of you.

“Oh, you really didn't have to, Y/n.” He took the box out of her hands anyway. “Did you want to come in?”

“No, thank you. I should get back. I've got a lot of paperwork to get through and I think one of my housemates is cleaning today and wanted everyone's help, so…” she trailed off, rocking slightly on her heels while Anthony Lockwood watched her.

“Right, well, thanks for stopping by! And for the doughnuts, that was very generous of you.”

She shrugged. “I've had taxi rides with people I was actually working with and they were complete arseholes to me, so I really appreciated you not being like that when you didn't even know me.”

“Anytime.” He paused for a moment, then frowned at her. “How did you find us? I know I said that you could always drop by but I don't remember actually telling you where we live. There's not a problem with it, by the way, just curious.”

“Oh, I looked it up. Figured you meant to tell me and never got round to it. Besides, I needed to go shopping anyway and I live nearby, so it wasn't too difficult for me.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Well it was lovely seeing you again, Y/n. I look forward to our next meeting.” His smile was infectious, and she still had a grin on her face at the thought of him when she went to bed that night.

~~~

For the next few months, both Y/n and Lockwood and Co were busy with their own cases, but regularly passed each other in the street. Anthony Lockwood had taken to sending her a wink or flirty quite early on, and because Y/n believed it impossible that someone like him was single and therefore able to chase after someone like her, she ignored him. Every now and then she would indulge him, of course, flirting back to see how he would react (he was always pleasantly surprised and kept their little game going for as long as he could before he was needed), but for the most part she would walk right past him.

It wasn't entirely her fault, since many of the times they bumped into each other she was on a time schedule, and didn't have the extra minute or so to flirt with the pretty boy.

The last time had been different, though.

~~~

“Hello again, darling,” a voice said from her left, and Y/n smiled when she recognised it right away as Lockwood's. They knew each other better now, from the few times that they had been able to talk for longer and ask how the other was doing, and when he had found out that she was calling him Anthony Lockwood in her head he gave her a look of barely contained amusement and told her she could pick one.

Anthony had felt too personal, since everyone else that spoke to him seemed to call him Lockwood, and she didn't think they knew each other that well for her to use his first name.

“Come here often?” he asked, appearing in her field of view and leaning on the table she was sat at in the small night café.

“Only when I know that you're going to be here,” Y/n responded, and delighted in the faint pink tinge that came onto his cheeks.

“May I?” He gestured to the chair opposite her, and she nodded.

“Not with your friends tonight?”

“No, they're probably at home already, lucky bastards. My case ran on a bit longer than I expected, and I couldn't wait for a cup of tea. Plus, when I saw you in here I couldn't not come and see you.”

They sat there for a while, making their way through two cups of tea each before deciding to leave, and Lockwood offered to take the taxi home with her.

When they were nearly back to Y/n's house, he spoke up.

“I'll pay, if you like. I'll be paying for this stretch of the journey anyway so it doesn't make much of a difference to me.”

“Oh, Lockwood, I can pay you for my part at least, it's not a big deal to me.”

“Nonsense.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, just as they drove around the corner onto her street. “Or… you could come back to Portland Row with me?” Their flirting had never gone as far as properly inviting the other back to their place (although there had always been the comments of 'why don't we finish this somewhere else?' or 'wanna come home with me and prove it?'), and it took Y/n a moment to realise that he was being serious.

“I mean... if you're sure? I don't want to impose or anything.”

“No, you won't be imposing, darling. George and Lucy will be asleep, I'm sure. I think there's half a bottle of wine that needs finishing off if you wanted to share? No pressure though.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

“So are you two both going to Portland Row then?” the driver called, and Lockwood nodded.

“Yes please.” He turned back to Y/n, worry starting to creep into his expression. “You did agree, right?”

“Yes, Lockwood, I did. I think I need something that's not tea to be honest.”

“You can stay the night, too. If you need to. I'll sleep on the sofa and you can have my bed.”

“I'm not kicking you out of your own bed, Lockwood. How big is it?”

“Darling, I'm scandalised that you would ask me that question. You know that size doesn't mat-” He was cut off by Y/n smacking him in the chest, and he chuckled when she glared at him.

“The bed, Lockwood, how big is the bed? If I wanted to know the size of your dick I'd ask you to strip.” She ignored the weird look that the driver cast them in his rear view mirror and focused on Lockwood's answer instead.

“Steady, darling. We're not back yet.” He yelped when she whacked him again, and caught her wrists and held them so that she couldn't attack him anymore. “It's a double.”

“Well then we can both fit, can't we?”

“Asking me to strip, getting me into bed with you? If I didn't know any better, darling, I'd say that you were trying to seduce me,” he smirked, leaning in close.

“Oh, Lockwood. I think we both know I did that a long time ago, don't we.” They were dangerously close to kissing, their lips only a couple of centimetres away from each other while their noses brushed with every jolt in the road, and then the taxi was slowing and pulling up to the curb outside 35 Portland Row.

“Alright you two, out. And use protection please, you're too young to be havin' kids.” Y/n flushed and opened the door, moving around to the boot to take out her kit bag and rapier, and when Lockwood followed a moment later after paying the driver his face was red too.

~~~

“Here,” Lockwood said, handing over a tea mug filled with wine.

“Thanks. You're sure the others won't mind us drinking this?”

“They've had plenty of time to drink it, and I own the house and therefore the kitchen and the contents of the fridge are mine too, so I say it's fair game.” His smile was slightly blinding, but Y/n had learned to see past the glare and look at his eyes instead, finding the pure joy behind the façade he put up for the world to see.

They didn't know each other that well, when everything was considered, but Y/n did call him her friend when describing their relationship, and she did feel that if asked, Lockwood would say the same.

Around thirty minutes later Y/n was nearly doubled over with laughter at some stupid thing that Lockwood had said (the wine had gone straight to her head and she had no recollection of what exactly he had said), clutching her sides as they sat in the cluttered library with the bottle of wine between them.

“You, Anthony Lockwood, are ridiculous!”

“I am! In fact, have I shown you my hat collection?”

“Is that some sort of weird euphemism? Or are you genuinely more deranged than I thought you were?”

“Not a euphemism, love,” he grinned, and Y/n in her wine-addled state thought about how he was starting to look like the deranged young man she'd just accused him of being.

“So... you actually have a hat collection? Why?” Lockwood shrugged.

“It's good for disguises when I need to do a little bit of extra research for a case. I can do accents too!”

“No offence, Lockwood, but I've heard some of your accents, and I'm very surprised that you haven't been hunted down and killed yet.”

“Believe me, people have tried!” Somehow he didn't look concerned about that, still smiling just as widely as before, and Y/n thought he looked rather nice like that.

~~~

When she woke up in the morning, Y/n realised she had never taken the painkillers Lockwood had left on the bedside table for her to use.

“Shit,” she whispered, grabbing the packet and the glass of water and swallowing the pills the best she could in an attempt to stave off the headache that had formed. After finishing off the wine, Lockwood had managed to find some more alcohol hidden away in a cupboard in the library ("It's my personal stash, so don't worry about feeling guilty about drinking this") and they had stayed up until it was nearly sunrise talking about everything and nothing. She was regretting not drinking the water before sleeping, and when she flopped back onto the bed and under the covers she realised that there was someone else in the bed with her.

Lockwood looked peaceful asleep.

While she didn't mind waking up next to him in the morning (the view was actually rather nice), not being able to remember what had happened the night before was a little disturbing, especially since she was in her underwear and, as far as she could tell, Lockwood wasn't wearing any clothes.

The bedsheets had been partially kicked off in the night, most likely because the heating was apparently on full from the very warm temperature of the room, and the duvet had bunched up around Lockwood's waist. She didn't want to wake him by trying to find out if anything had happened last night, since he probably never slept with the sheer size of the shadows under his eyes, so instead she carefully got out of bed and picked up her clothes.

Finding all of her things was difficult, since they'd been flung all around the room in what she hoped was drunkenness and not desperation, but after nearly ten minutes she was dressed and reaching for the door handle. She didn't make it that far though, because before she could leave the sounds of somebody waking up started coming from the bed, and Lockwood was asking her where she was going.

“Oh, I just... I just figured you wouldn't want me to stick around-”

“Why would you think that?” He was rubbing his eyes and sitting up, and she had to force her gaze away from where the sheets were dangerously close to revealing whether or not they had slept together.

“I don't know.” There was silence for a minute or so while Lockwood tried to wake up enough to work out what was going on, and Y/n stood by the door feeling very awkward. “Did we... did anything happen? Last night?”

“Don't think so. I feel like I would remember that, darling,” he winked, and she felt her face heat up.

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“You don't seem convinced.”

“No, I am,” she said, very unconvincingly. There was another silence while she hesitated. “Are you naked?” she blurted out, immediately covering her face with her hands to block out Lockwood's shocked reaction. His laughter didn't help, only serving to make her feel more embarrassed than she already was, and she stayed safely behind her hands while she waited for it all to be over.

“No, darling, I'm not naked. But if you wanted me to be then I'm sure we could figure something out.” She could hear the amusement in his voice and groaned in frustration, knowing that he wouldn't ever let her live this moment down.

“I'm good, thanks.” She didn't really mean it, but it was nice to have a friend like Lockwood, and she figured that having sex with him probably wouldn't help to keep that friendship at all.

“Alright. Well if you don't want to see me in my pants then keep your hands there, I'm getting out of bed.” For the most part she obeyed, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't peek through her fingers briefly while he was getting dressed.

~~~

Luckily the other members of Lockwood and Co were not at home when Y/n left that morning, having said no to Lockwood's offer of breakfast (she would pick up something from Arif's, even if it was out of her way a little), and within half an hour she was back in her own house with a very large cup of tea and a plate of food in her favourite armchair in the living room.

When one of her housemates asked her where she had been all night, a suggestive tone to her question, Y/n simply shrugged, and replied “What's it to you?”

~~~

One week later she was running for her life.

It wasn't that this sort of thing didn't happen often, since her job required a lot of running a lot of the time, but normally she wasn't this exhausted from it. She wasn't even working on a case, either. Y/n had just been walking home from her actual case for that night when she'd accidentally taken a wrong turn in her fatigued state and had come face to face with a bunch of Type Twos.

At least she had her rapier and a few flares and salt bombs left, and her boots were solid enough that despite how much running she had already done that night, she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet when normally her soles would be protesting in pain.

“Fuck's sake,” she grumbled, heading for the nearest iron fence she could find. Unfortunately she still had to cross a road that was surprisingly busy at this time of night (or morning? she wasn't sure where the line between the two was drawn) and then vault over the fence into the park, which was probably also infested with Visitors. Going against every action movie she had ever seen she looked back (which was precisely what she shouted at the characters for), then immediately stumbled since she couldn't see where she was going. Her brief pause in her flight allowed the Visitors to catch up a little, and within a few seconds she was seeing her life flash before her eyes and throwing up her rapier in a last ditch attempt to not die.

Then something else was flashing before her eyes, and the ghosts were being driven off.

Y/n realised with a start that the flash had been Lockwood and his stupid grin, dressed in his stupid long coat that was stupidly attractive on him, waving his rapier around in stupidly perfect motions.

“Did you miss me, darling?” She didn't even have time to respond, already ducking to not be hit by the bicycle a Poltergeist had sent flying their way, and Lockwood pushed her to the ground to dodge the railing that followed. They landed with a thump, and Y/n winced when her back hit the concrete of the pavement and then again a very brief moment later when Lockwood landed on her.

“I did, Lockwood. I really did miss you.” She hoped that he could see how sincere she was, and he looked as though he was about to say something. Unfortunately he was cut off when a badly-aimed salt bomb exploded right above their heads, and a small “Sorry!” was called out from somewhere nearby.

“Not to worry, George!” Lockwood yelled back as he got off the floor. He offered out a hand and Y/n let him pull her up, holding her breath when he pulled with more force than was needed and she fell into his chest. “Woah,” he said, voice quiet. “You alright?” His free hand had come up to steady her by the arm, and now he was gently stroking up and down. She wondered if he knew he was doing it.

“Yeah. Can we maybe run away from the death bikes?”

“I think that would be a good idea. You going home?” Y/n shook her head.

“One of my housemates has their partner over, and I'd really rather not be there. I was gonna put up with it but if you're offering your bed again I won't say no,” she teased. Lockwood's face went pink, but not from the cold or the running.

“I'm always offering my bed, darling, you should know that by now.” His smile was as blinding as the flash he had appeared in, and then he was tugging her hand and leading her away from the ghosts (which wouldn't be able to follow after a while, since she'd already run quite far from their Sources), and instead heading for 35 Portland Row.

When they made it inside (Lucy was already in bed, but Lockwood and George had been coming back from a case like Y/n), George bade the two of them goodnight, then tiredly climbed the stairs, leaving Lockwood and Y/n in the front hall. It was dimly lit, only the lamp on the hall cupboard providing any reprise from the darkness, and the yellow glow of it made Lockwood look ethereal.

He had dust and dirt all over him, staining his usually perfect white shirt and tie, and his hair was a mess from the slight wind outside, but he still wore his confidence and his charm like a second skin, and he had never looked more like Anthony Lockwood in all the time Y/n had known him.

“What were you even doing out there?” he asked.

“I was coming back from a job, took a wrong turn somewhere, and came face to face with those fuckers. I'm just really glad that you were there in time because I probably would've ended up in hospital otherwise. Or a furnace.”

“I'm glad I was there too,” Lockwood said, stepping forward. He made to move his hand, as though he might reach out and touch hers, but then his fist was clenching at his side again, fingers flexing every few seconds. “I thought you would be alright, really. Then I saw you trip - why the hell did you look back? You always get annoyed when they do that in movies. I was scared, Y/n, that you might not get back up again.” She could tell that he meant it too, from the way he was looking at her. It was almost too much, his gaze, since it was heavy with so much emotion that they hadn't even properly addressed between them, and that was probably why he kissed her.

She both had and hadn't been expecting it.

It made sense when she thought about it, because beneath all the teasing and flirting there was attraction and a real desire, and she had always figured that being with someone was easier if you knew and trusted them. But she had never thought that either of them would act on it, since both of them seemed happy to let the friendship cover up the truth because at least that meant they weren't without the other. Bringing the truth to light could ruin that, and then they might not see each other at all.

Now, though, she wondered why they hadn't kissed before.

It had been brief, a few seconds at most, but it was enough to make her realise that they had been incredibly stupid in not doing it earlier. She had had such a long night - they both had - and when he pressed his lips to hers for the second time she knew that despite the fatigue and near death experiences involving bicycles, they would be alright. Her hands had moved without her fully knowing, and when they pulled away after the second kiss she realised that they were in his hair and clutching his coat that he hadn't taken off yet. His were nestled around her waist, holding her close to him while he searched her eyes for any sign to stop.

The third kiss was the longest yet, and it took them a long time to move from the front hall to his bedroom.

~~~

Y/n had always been a fan of anything that shone, and had been called a magpie by nearly everyone that knew her.

It didn't matter if it was expensive or not, if it was shiny, then she would have it. Growing up she hadn't been used to expense, and finding trinkets on the street was her speciality, but every now and then someone would buy her something a little less on the cheap side, and she would be overjoyed.

Then of course there were the things she bought herself.

The Fittes Ball that she was on her way to had invited agents of all kinds (a rarity for solo agents who usually went forgotten), and her outfit was one of the most expensive things that she had bought yet (other than her shared house). It was worth it, though, for the look on Lockwood's face when he first saw her.

“You look incredible, Y/n/n!” Lucy gushed, immediately wrapping her new friend in a hug. George and Holly agreed, and while their fussing was nice it was Lockwood's opinion she really wanted. They hadn't spoken after the night they spent together two weeks ago, and now he had an unreadable expression on his face while he looked at her. It was ridiculous, really, how nervous she was to know what he was thinking, since she had never usually cared about what any man thought of her.

“Thank you, I love your dress, Luce! And George, are you actually in a suit? No, no, no, you look very nice! Holly, you look incredible as always,” she said, returning the compliments her friends had given her. Her gaze kept darting back to Lockwood though, and after the others had moved away to talk to someone else, he cleared his throat.

“Y/n.”

“Lockwood.” He took a step towards her.

“You know I told you you could call me Anthony.” He had, not long after he'd taken her to his bed.

“Oh, right. I didn't know if that was just... for then.” She was struggling to look at him now, so she missed the way his expression softened.

“It's for whenever, darling.”

“Okay,” she said, and the small smile he gave her made her heart beat a little faster in her chest.

“You look stunning, darling. Truly.”

“So do you, Anthony,” she replied, and this time she took a step forward to close the distance. A frown came onto her face, and when he asked her why she paused for a moment before answering. “What are we? Because we haven't spoken since... since that night, and now we're acting like we did before and I'm just quite confused.”

Instead of responding with words, he dug into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper, handing it to her a second later. She tried not to focus too much on his hands (the memories of two weeks ago were coming back to the front of her mind now) and took it with confusion, starting to unfold it.

“Oh, I'll be back in a minute, George is calling me over.” He flashed her one of his winning smiles and was off, moving in what she assumed was the direction of George. She finally unfolded the paper and was surprised to see that it was mostly blank, just one question and two little points below it. A pen had been folded into it, and she bit back a smile when she'd read the words.

Would you go on a date with me? Please circle one answer

yes

He was ridiculous, she had decided, but then again she couldn't deny how ridiculously cute it was that he'd written out this mini questionnaire and put it in his pocket, despite not knowing whether she would actually be here or not to take it from him. Why he'd left immediately she didn't know, but maybe he was just too nervous to find out her reaction right away. She clicked the pen and circled 'yes' the best she could with no hard surface to lean on, and winced when the paper punctured. He knew where to find her, but she wrote her address anyway and the house phone number, and refolded the paper. Looking around she couldn't immediately see him, but then she caught a flash of a smile that could only have belonged to one Mr Anthony Lockwood, and she made for where he stood. He blushed slightly when he caught sight of her, then his cheeks burned brighter when she tucked the piece of paper and the pen in the pocket just inside his jacket (standing much closer to him than she needed to), and walked away without a word.

~~~

Two hours later they had snuck into the Fittes building's public library, giggling about something stupid one of the stuck-up snobs who was far too old to still be alive had said while they sipped the fancy champagne that was being served.

“Do you think they get many kids in here? Like, actual kids who would need entertaining?” she asked, making Anthony look round from where he'd been perusing the shelves.

“I doubt it. Why?”

“They've got origami. Look,” she pointed, putting her champagne flute down on a sideboard and picking up a sheet. “I used to be able to make loads of things, but I reckon if I tried making a rabbit or something now it'd look like someone folded a bit of paper a bunch of times and then sat on it.”

“I used to make those snowflakes where you fold it into quarters and cut bits out. Got quite good in the end; I could make chains of them eventually.”

“Of course you're good at making paper snowflakes,” she muttered, no hint of malice behind it. “You're good at everything, I swear.”

“Oh, that's not true.”

“Really? Name one thing that you can't do.” He paused, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “See? You can't do it!”

“Well, I don't think that was very fair, actually, because you didn't give me long enough to actually think about it!” She moved to sit down, picking out various colours of paper squares before settling on one she liked. Anthony sat down next to her, his thigh close enough to hers that she could feel his body heat through his suit. He chose his own square of paper, immediately starting to fold it in different ways.

“What are you gonna make?” she asked him, not looking up from where she was attempting to make an origami butterfly.

“That's a secret.”

“Alright then,” she snorted, “be mysterious. Is that because you're bad at origami and you're trying to hide it by making me guess?”

“Sure, that's what's happening.”

They sat in comfortable silence while they worked, and when Y/n crossed her legs she made contact with Anthony's knee and drew in a breath. She refocused and looked at the paper in her hands, frowning when she realised that she had no idea how to make a butterfly out of it anymore, and sat back with a huff.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just bored, I suppose. What are you making?” He had folded his piece of paper into a thin strip, and now he was pulling the ends together, somehow making them link.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to her right hand. She didn't answer for a moment, too busy watching the way his fingers moved. “Y/n?”

“Oh, right.” She let him take her left hand in his, holding her breath for the millionth time around him both at the tenderness of it all and at the way his hands were so cold compared to her warm ones. He lifted the origami up and slid it onto her fourth finger, tightening it by pushing the ends together further.

“You can take it off, if you want.”

She wasn't sure she was breathing. “Are you proposing?”

“What? No, if I was proposing you'd know about it, darling. I just… I don’t know.” He looked nervous, and although he hadn’t let go of her hand, she could see that he was fidgeting.

“I love it, Anthony. Thank you.” He smiled then, small and as under as the way he was holding her hand, and she couldn’t help but ask what she’d been wondering for the last two hours.

“Did you read my response?” Somehow he softened even more, and his grip tightened ever so slightly before he nodded.

“Yes, I did.” Had he moved closer? She thought the distance between them was no longer as frustratingly large as it had been, but he was still too far away.

“Well?”

“Are you free on Saturday? There’s a great place for lunch I’ve been dying to show you for a while now.” He was definitely closer, and she could make out the small scar on his lip in perfect detail.

“Midday work for you?”

“Absolutely.” He was still holding her hand when he kissed her gently, like he thought she might leave at any moment, and when he pulled back after a couple of seconds she dragged him right back to her lips, shifting somehow even closer to him on the seat. The gift he had made that now sat on her finger felt as heavy as a gold one, filled with the promise of what could be and happy endings, and she found herself thinking that if the two of them did ever marry, she would be happy to do so with a paper ring.

They were sat there kissing for a while, not stopping until someone shouted outside the door in drunken laughter, making Anthony and Y/n jump back in surprise. Then they were laughing too, like they were teenagers sneaking off (which, she supposed, they almost were, if you ignored the fact they were legally adults now), and he pressed one last quick kiss to her mouth before he stood up. “We should head out. I’m sure the others will be wondering where we are.” Y/n stood up too, still holding his hand, and moved to straighten his tie. She had pulled on it when they were kissing, and now it was all crooked around his neck.

“I think they probably know that we’re together, though. I doubt that they’re too worried about us.” She finished fiddling with his tie and draped her arms around his neck, and flushed when he wrapped his own arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. They stayed that way for a while, just trading small kisses and swaying gently back and forth.

“I’m glad,” Anthony said suddenly, breaking the silence. “That we… you know.”

“Nearly died and then slept together?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I just - I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too, Anthony.” Normally accidents like having sex with her friends was something she hated, but given it was Anthony Lockwood that it had happened with, she was happy to make an exception.

~~~

That night, while Anthony finally managed to sleep next to her, Y/n stayed awake. The glow of the ghost lamp outside had woken her a few minutes ago while she had been surfacing, and now she couldn’t get back to sleep. Her dress hung on the back of his desk chair, and various parts of his suit were slung around the room in piles from where they had thrown them earlier in their haste to be as close as possible to each other.

The ring now sat on Anthony’s bedside table, and although it wasn’t light enough in the room for her to make out its shape, she still knew exactly where it was. Before the two of them got too caught up in each other she had slipped it off, saying that she didn’t want it damaged (as it likely would have been), and when she placed it to the side her eyes had caught on the photo in the frame.

“Is that us?” she had asked, grabbing the frame with both hands.

“Oh… yes. Sorry, it was just a really nice photo and we don’t get to see each other that much, and-”

“Anthony,” she interrupted, warmth flooding her face at her next words. “I’ve got cut-outs from papers that wrote about you framed, so this is perfectly okay.”

She flushed again just thinking about it, and how softly he had smiled at her, and then how softly he had kissed her afterwards. She had been dreaming about him, about both of them, and what would have happened if they had stayed in the library at Fittes for a little longer (a lot of hushed moans and whispered words, and his hair completely dishevelled).

He was the one that she wanted, she was sure of it. There had been others, but none of them had featured in her thoughts about the future like Anthony Lockwood did.

~~~

Months later, when the seasons had gone from wonderfully warm and sunny (or as sunny as England could get) to cold and biting air, Anthony and Y/n were on a case together.

She had officially become a member of the agency not too long after they started dating, and while Lucy and George had originally been worried about the logistics of living space, they quickly realised that their new hire would be sharing a bed with their boss. Y/n had settled in quickly, getting used to how her friends lived within a few weeks, and the company had settled into a nice rhythm.

“A hotel? That’s a pretty big location, shouldn’t we have Lucy and George with us?” she asked as the taxi pulled up to their destination.

“It seems to be contained to one area, from reports, and since they had a couple of actual children give statements I’m going to trust them. Just the outdoor space around the back, apparently someone - a worker, it says here - died while manning a barbecue near the large pool.”

“How do you die manning a barbecue?”

“He fell face-first into the coals, this says,” Anthony replied, waving the paper report around. They clambered out the taxi, thanking and paying the driver, and once the kit had been collected out the boot and the driver was heading back down the road, they were alone.

“Well that’s an awful way to go. Type One? Or manifesting as something stronger?”

“Everything points to Type Two, but that’s nothing we can’t handle.”

~~~

He was right, as he so often was, but unfortunately the way in which they handled the Type Two ghost of the Barbecue Man meant they ended up jumping in a pool.

The Source had apparently been one of the tiles on the ledge, where the Barbecue Man had tripped after falling face first into the coals and cracked his skull open on the edge of the pool. A delightful scene, Y/n was sure, but they hadn’t figured out what the Source was until much later. While she had been scouring the barbecue for any sign of a trigger for the Visitor, Anthony had been drawing it closer to the pool. He seemed to be having a wonderful time taunting the poor dead man, and she couldn’t help but curse him out a little under her breath. “There’s nothing here!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Anthony, I’m pretty sure!” She was just about to tell him off for questioning her when he stepped back on his right foot and made the Visitor shriek an ungodly noise. “Wait! Draw it away from where you currently are!” She wasn’t sure if he’d actually been paying attention to her words since he didn’t give any indication that he had heard her, but a moment later he started moving away, the ghost following him, and she was able to dive for the tile. The second her hands came into contact with it she felt the pain and torment that Barbecue Man had been in in the brief minutes before his death, and at the same time that she managed to dislodge the tile (it had been knocked lose, most likely from his head after he hit it) and wrap it in a silver net, Anthony jumped in the pool. When he surfaced, hair plastered to his forehead and coat and suit completely soaked, he shouted at her to jump in too, leaving the Source on dry land. She just stared at him, but then a rush of cold air hit her and she didn’t think twice. Anthony was waving his arms around, making the water move about enough to fend off the second ghost that had appeared.

Unfortunately that meant that when Y/n attempted to come up for air, she got a face-full of water.

“Anthony!”

“Whoops. Sorry, darling. Here,” he said, offering out his hand. She took it gladly, still spluttering slightly, and they hauled themselves to the opposite side of the swimming pool. The water was freezing, but it was better than being ghost-touched, and besides, Anthony hadn’t let go of her hand yet.

~~~

Her hands were turning a little blue from the temperature of the pool.

It reminded her of when they had been redecorating one of the rooms in Portland Row about two months ago. George had complained that the room was lacking something, and all inhabitants (and Kipps, although Anthony didn’t pay him much attention) agreed that they needed to update it. They had painted it blue, not too dissimilar to the colour of Y/n’s fingers in the present day, and while it had been a wonderful day it had also been the day of her and Anthony’s first fight.

She couldn’t even remember what it had been about now, something stupid and fuelled by external factors such as job stress and fatigue, but Y/n had slept in Lucy’s bed that night.

It had been a while before either girl went to sleep, instead spending the hours attempting to stop Y/n’s crying and watching the old tapes of movies and television shows from before the Problem that Lucy had stashed away on her bookcase. When the morning had come, Lucy had offered to go downstairs and sort out breakfast for them both, so that Y/n wouldn’t have to run into Lockwood, but Y/n had shaken her head, saying that the two of them needed to figure something out.

The moment she had set foot in the kitchen, seeing the back of Anthony’s white dress shirt while he stood at the counter making teas (he had made one for her too, in her favourite mug), she had started tearing up again. He’d heard her sniffling and whipped his head around to see her hovering just inside the doorway, and immediately he had crumbled and rushed over to her, wrapping her in his arms and mumbling “I’m sorry” into her hair.

Now, back from their case with Barbecue Man, they were sat in the library, Anthony pushing a cup of freshly made tea into her hands in an attempt to get them back to their normal colour. “Feeling any better?” he asked, sitting down in the chair next to hers and picking up his magazine.

“Yeah, a bit. I can actually feel things again now, so that’s good.”

“Good. Well, I’ll keep you under surveillance for a while, just until I know you’re better.” She snorted, lifting the mug to her mouth.

“Thanks, Doc. Much appreciated.” His responding smile was enough to warm her up entirely.

~~~

A few hours later she woke up feeling disorientated, most likely because she never remembered falling asleep in the first place. Anthony was still in his chair on her left, but he had fallen asleep too, magazine splayed across his chest. Y/n stretched, yawned, and checked her watch, then started at the time. It was nearly half six in the morning, and they had come back from their case at around midnight. She wasn’t sure how long Anthony had stayed awake watching over her, but she knew that the moment he did finally regain consciousness she would be sending him straight up to bed for another few hours of sleep.

She heard somebody moving around in the kitchen and went to investigate, finding George in an oversized t-shirt and no trousers putting the kettle on to boil. “Morning,” she said, shuffling further into the room and stuffing some bread into the toaster.

“Ah, morning. Lockwood still asleep?”

“Yep. He’s in the library. Did you need him for something?”

“Oh, not really. I woke up at about four and was shockingly hungry, and when I came down he was sat reading his magazine. I was just wondering how long it would be before he was up again.” It made sense for her boyfriend to have stayed awake until he literally passed out from exhaustion, given how little Anthony normally slept anyway, and she frowned when she heard the stairs creak. A few moments later Anthony Lockwood himself appeared in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and smiling like there wasn’t a thing wrong with him only getting about two and a half hours of sleep. “I need the toilet,” George suddenly said. “If you could move out the doorway, Lockwood, that would be great. Thanks. The kettle should be boiled soon, if you two wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all, George,” Anthony replied, already taking mugs out of the cupboard. “Who’s toast is this? I think it’s burning.”

“Oh, shit, that’s mine! Fuck that’s hot!”

“Not hotter than me though, right?”

“Shut up, Anthony. My fingers are burning.” He reached over and took her hand in his, not caring for the piece of blackened toast that sat on her plate on the counter, and pressed a gentle kiss to each fingertip. She had flashbacks to the last time her hands had been near his mouth in a far less family-friendly setting, and tried to stop her knees from giving out.

“Better?”

“Um… I guess. Yeah.” If anything she was worse, since now her whole body was on fire at how sweet that one gesture was. He hadn’t even thought about it, since there was less than a second between her saying her hand hurt and him kissing the first fingertip, and that had her knees weakening all over again. She took a step towards him, threading her burning fingers with his and placing the other one on his chest to grab at his collar and pull him in for a kiss. He’d had a long night, she was sure of it, and the more-prominent-than-usual bags under his eyes were giving her a solid argument. The kiss was short and sweet, and when she pulled back he followed her for a moment before realising that it was over. He pouted, his eyes practically begging for her to kiss him again, and she let out a small laugh before obliging. That kiss was sweet too, but lasted a little longer, and the third one would have gone on for longer still had George not come back from the toilet and pretended to gag.

~~~

“Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about just… leaving for a bit? Not completely, I don’t think I could stay away from London forever, but just running off on holiday for a while. Getting a break from the ghost hunting and constant threat of death.”

“That’s… really? You want to ask that now? Darling, my mind is not in the right place for an actual conversation right now.” His hand trailed over her bare side and his eyes were looking at everything but her face, proving that he really wasn’t in the right mental place for a conversation like this, but she tried again anyway.

“Okay, but do you?” He sighed, reluctantly dragging his gaze up to meet hers.

“I suppose I’ve never really thought about it before.” He paused, shifting his weight to get comfortable. His legs knocked against hers and his hand hadn’t stopped tracing the skin of her body, and he had never taken off the ring he always wore. It had been a pleasant chill against her earlier when she thought she was going to combust from his touch. “I think because of the company I wouldn’t take a break. And I’d have a lot of guilt about leaving when there are people who might be in danger and I could have helped them.”

“But if you could drive away, would you? None of the guilt, or people getting hurt. Just… going off on your own for a bit.”

“I don’t know about alone. I think I would want you with me, darling.” He punctuated his statement by lowering his voice and pulling her closer by her hips, flush against his body, and although she was tired she couldn’t help but feel warm again.

“I’d be happy to drive away with you, Ant. Anywhere you go, I’m going too.”

“You mean it?” he breathed, eyes looking almost golden in the glow of his bedside lamp. He looked desperate for her answer, like he needed to know that she would truly always be with him because he couldn’t stand being left alone again.

“Of course I mean it, Ant. I want it all with you; everything. The complications and fights and of course all the good things too. The horrible Mondays where we get clients who don’t realise that what we do is a full-time job and we don’t really get weekends, the times we do get days off, and we can just be… together.” She ran her fingertips over his arms, marvelling at the hidden muscles she felt. Given how skinny and beanpole-like he appeared, the first time she had realised how toned he was she had been pleasantly surprised. It made sense, she supposed, since he was incredibly proficient with a rapier and had been from a young age, and being that good meant he had to at least be somewhat physically fit and capable (he was very physically capable in other ways, too, something else she had learned early on). She didn’t think she would ever get over how much she loved his arms, or his hands, or how they looked when he rolled his dress shirt sleeves up and folded his arms against his chest, and from the look he was giving her right now he apparently knew that she felt that way.

“You alright, darling?” Good lord, had his voice gone even lower? His eyes had gone from being a honey-golden to a dark syrupy brown, and if what she could feel against her lower half was any indication she could tell that his mind was back to being somewhere other than their conversation. She sounded out of breath when she spoke.

“I’m alright. Do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Wrap me in your arms?”

“Absolutely.”

She definitely shouldn’t have this much of an obsession with his arms, but the moment his arms tightened around her torso and her thigh, bringing her on top of him fully while he sat up with her in his lap and kissed her deeply, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

~~~

On their one-year anniversary, Y/n woke up early.

She didn’t want to, but the moon was shining brightly through the bedroom window, and there was a gap in the curtains that let the light through. It was landing on the books that had been stacked up on the bedside table, titles just about visible and all of them ones that she had read before. The moonlight was also resting on Anthony’s face while he slept, and he looked like he had in the taxi on that night when they had first met, ethereal and effortlessly gorgeous (but not quite so tired and weighed down by responsibility), and she found herself falling in love with him all over again.

It was probably all forms of creepy to just lie and watch him breathe while she tried to go back to sleep, but there was something oddly soothing about it: the rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful expression on his face. It was rare she got to see him so relaxed, the only other times were when he had a day off and was sat in the library with a cup of tea, Y/n sat nearby, or when they had spent time exploring each others’ bodies, hands roaming over skin and through hair while they made love.

The paper ring that he had made her just over a year ago, not long before they started officially dating, was sat on the bedside table next to the stack of books. He’d made her new ones at random points throughout their time together, but the original one that he’d folded from that piece of paper in the Fittes public library had remained in pride of place in her jewellery dish in their now shared bedroom at 35 Portland Row.

Looking at it now she was absolutely certain that he was the one that she wanted, taking him in marriage with a paper ring, putting their pictures in frames to decorate their home, and he was the one she wanted in all of her daydreams.

Anthony Lockwood was her future, and her future was looking wonderfully bright.

lockwood tag list: @anathemaloren, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss (hopefully you get this notification, ik it's been weird recently), @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining (hopefully this works for you too my lovely), @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @no-morning-glories, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @zoom1374, @light-23, @ahead-fullofdreams

and then I'm tagging @neewtmas, @oblivious-idiot, @bobbys-not-that-small, @maraschinomerry, @uku-lelevillain, and @lewkwoodnco because I've been promising you this for a while and you just didn't know it :D

if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here! I am aware that it has been a while, but from now on I will be checking this post every time I write a new fic to see who is there, so head on over to give a comment or a like and I'll pop you on for next time! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader

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milliesfishes · 8 months ago

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Hi was listening to special death and I CANNOT stop thinking of billy with an x witch reader please 🥺🥺🥺

౨ৎ꣑ৎSpellbound౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: talk of witchcraft, trauma pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: witch reader x billy the kid author’s note: anon, this has been on my mind forever since you sent it I hope you enjoy! Open to doing a part 2 btw let me know <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Billy had always taken a liking to those on the outcast side of society.

Since he himself fell into that category, he paid special attention to the ones those with exorbitant amounts of money declared misfits. They were a curious subject to him since he often discovered them not to be what everyone declared.

When there were whisperings of a new face in town, one passerby pronounced as strange, his attention was piqued. Billy wasn't a gossip by any means, but he leaned in a little whenever he heard someone talking about said soul.

"She's very odd," one woman said as she examined a bushel of apples, not bothering to quiet her tone. "Moved into a little cottage over the glen and hasn't spoken to anyone yet."

"I saw her one morning," her companion said, nodding along. "Out in the hills shamelessly, shoulders uncovered, gathering plants. I'm so glad she hasn't come into town. Although it'd give us a good laugh, I suppose."

Billy stopped listening after that, their facts trickling into fiction. He was used to the way women in the marketplace spoke about each other, and usually he paid them no mind. But this was interesting. Most folks didn't move to this little corner of the world, willingly or not.

As the weeks passed, the whispers about the new woman in town grew louder. When he heard a few men in the saloon talking about her, his interest was really captured. Usually, the only thing they talked about was work or the game at hand. Now the only topic on their tongues was the woman with long hair who did strange things in the woods.

"She's a witch," one older man said earnestly, setting his hand down. "Ain't never seen anythin' like it. Someone oughtta drive 'er out before she curses us all."

"Nah, she won't hurt anyone," another man chortled. "Saw 'er myself the other morning. Timid little thing. The second she saw me she bolted. Doubt we'll hear from her much."

"Gives our wives somethin' new to talk about," the cowboy across from him said, tossing a few coins into the pot. "Good thing too. I was sick of hearin' 'bout who's doin' what at the inn."

A witch? That was a new one. Billy had been told tales of spellcasters both good and evil in his mother's Irish fairy tales, but he'd never heard of one existing. It was a far-fetched notion. One he was keen to discover the truth of. One he didn't know he would stumble upon.

The morning was was misty and cloudy, the sun barely risen over the hills. He hummed to himself as he guided his horse to a forest-y part of the hills. Now was the best time to be out. The world was quiet, the chatter of everything quieted by a required action of unconsciousness.

He peered through the thick branches, dismounting and tying his horse when he saw something moving. There was a little clearing nearby, and he wondered if a deer had wandered in to graze.

But when he got closer, he realized the presence was human. He could make out long hair and a white dress between the leaves. Then when he pushed willow leaves aside, he finally saw you clearly.

Graceful and lithe, you pushed your hair aside as you gathered a purple flower from a bush he recognized as lavender. The thin strap of your dress fell off your shoulder, and he found himself staring at the expanse of skin exposed. As you bent over, he could see the tops of your breasts, a single pendant on a ribbon tucked between them.

Instantly he knew you were the woman everyone was talking about. When they said witch he'd pictured an old crone with gray hair and time worn skin. But here you were, youthful and smooth and lovely.

The way you moved was mesmerizing. There was an air about you that made it impossible to look away. It was more than being attracted; Billy had certainly felt that before. This was something different. This was being drawn like a magnet, being helpless to the pull of your gravity. And you were in your own world, unaware of him, of anything at all.

He watched, captivated, as you tied your lavender with a ribbon, sticking it into a little bag so the purple poked out. Now you were climbing a tree expertly, crawling across a branch that hung over a tall patch of wild roses.

Cocking his head, Billy observed you turn upside down, still hanging from the branch like a sloth. Your hair fell like a curtain he longed to part. You stretched your neck to see below you, squinting a bit. Positioned right over the middle of the large patch, he was confused at what exactly you were doing.

Then in an instant you let go.

Billy's hand stretched out as if he could reach you from where he was standing. His jaw dropped, eyes wider than saucers as he watched you fall like a ragdoll into the mess of brambles and blooms.

He jumped into action, running before he knew what he was doing. Thorns gnawed at him when he pushed through the stems in an attempt to get to you. The result was sharp bouts of pain that made him wince, and he had to stop halfway there, grunting and touching the scratches on his face and arms. His fingers came back bloody.

There was a rustling sound, and your head popped up, eyes wide, plants coming up to your shoulders. With a furrowed brow, you called, "Are you okay?"

Oh, your voice was musical. A song he wished he could sing, a song that wouldn't sound as lovely unless it was coming from your mouth. He managed a half smile. "Ah...little tangled up."

You were moving closer with worried eyes. "Did you fall in?"

"N-no," he managed, disarmed as you came near. Being close to you was like drinking too much whiskey- it sent his head into a buzz. "But you did."

Pausing, your lips parted in realization. Now you knew what he had been trying to do. "I see."

"But you're-" Now you were reaching out a smooth hand, touching his face and turning it to the side so you could presumably see the battle scars from the sharp vines. The feel of your touch cut him off for a moment. He could see your eyes more clearly, and there was a spark in them he couldn't place. Maybe if you stood like this forever, he'd spend an equal amount of time drowning in them.

As you studied him, he studied you. Despite the fact you'd fallen right into the roses, there wasn't a single scratch on you. You were utterly untouched. He opened his mouth to ask, but you frowned, turning his cheek to the side. You took off his hat, so the shadow of the brim didn't disturb your view.

Clicking your tongue regretfully, you looked at him apologetically. "Come with me. I'll get you something for all these..." you gestured at the mess of his bodily afflictions.

Billy didn't think he'd ever be able to say no to you. He merely nodded as you put his hat back on his head, moving elegantly through the bush. The thorns slid over your skin like it was made of glass. He followed you, wincing as the same plants re-scratched him.

Once you were both out, he noticed you were holding a bunch of the wild roses, tied with a ribbon just like the lavender had been. You shoved it into your bag, picking it up and smiling a little at him. "C'mon. I can help you if you want."

A little wistfully, he nodded, looking back behind him. "My horse-"

Like clockwork, his horse appeared from the thicket from where he'd left it. Billy shook his head, sure he was seeing things. You didn't seem surprised by it, however, merely reaching out to the creature.

"Be careful, he-" Billy's warning was lost as he saw his normally finnicky horse nuzzle against your hand. He was baffled.

You handed him the reins. "I don't live very far away."

Powerless to stop your draw, he followed you.

You were quiet on the short journey, facing forward. The sun was higher now in the sky, and it illuminated you beautifully. He had a feeling any element would suit you. Practically one of the earth's daughters, you glowed here as if you were born directly to it.

The cottage in which you resided was simple, surrounded by wildflowers. Vines crept up the walls, kissing the roof. It was quaint and charming, just like you.

He tied his horse at the fence, and you produced a carrot from your bag, feeding it to the animal before leading Billy inside.

The walls were lined with shelves of old books. There were vases of flowers on every surface, but they weren't filled with water as expected. Instead, mounds of little shells held them in place. He could see jars full of herbs and liquids, lit candles lighting the space. You set your bag down on a table in the center, beckoning him to sit.

He did, watching you flit around the room, reading the labels on jars until you found the perfect one, popping the cork and peering inside. Nodding once, you came back over to him. "Here-" you removed his hat once again and dipped your fingers in the jarred substance, dabbing it where the thorn scratches must be.

The paste wasn't unpleasant smelling, and he liked that you were so close. Billy could see clearly your silky hair and smooth body. He wanted to run his fingers over it, see if it was as soft as it looked.

You knelt at his side, rolling up the sleeve of his right arm to put substance over the wounds there too. He smiled at the sight. "Are you a healer?" He didn't know if witch was the correct term.

Looking up at him, you offered him a little tilt upward of your lips. "Is that what they say in town about me?"

"Well..." he squinted as he thought. "Not exactly."

"I figured," you resumed your task, and he enjoyed the feel of your fingers on his skin. "For what it's worth, I do not wish to hurt anyone."

With your kind eyes and seemingly gentle demeanor, he hadn't thought you would. He told you so. Now your smile was wider. "That's nice of you to say. It seems I'm a danger to everybody else."

He shook his head. "You're helpin' me."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, and his heart fluttered. "Do you know what I am?"

Billy was lost in the universe of your eyes for a second. He thought of the way you'd glided through the thorns, retaining nary a remnant. The way you seemed to have such a way about you that was nearly magical. His tone was light when he guessed. "You're a witch?"

Your eyes were unchanging, when he half expected a rain of fire to engulf him. "It's funny. I've had that term lobbed at me in anger a thousand times. But you say it so casually. You say it the way I do."

"My mama used to tell me stories about witches," he nodded, noticing with awe that his scratches were fading into his skin as if he'd never been grazed. "Not all of 'em were bad."

Tilting your head, your smile grew. "She was right about that. It's just like people. Not everyone is fully good or evil. But majority rules."

The way you spoke was so lilted. He could listen for hours. "And you're good."

"I hope so," you said, and he caught a hint of melancholy in your eyes. But you shook it off as quickly as it appeared, rolling his other sleeve up and leaning over his slightly parted knees to put your salve on that arm.

"Did ya live near here before?" he asked, eager for information about you.

You resumed dabbing. "No. I used to live by the ocean."

He caught sight of the shells in the vases again. "'S far from here."

"It is." Standing up, you examined his face again, soft fingers gracing his jaw and positioning his head to the side. Tracing his jawline, you examined the area, fingers ghosting his stubble. "I miss it a lot. It was very beautiful."

"I can imagine," he nodded lightly, careful to keep his head in place. "And have ya always...ah...practiced witchcraft?"

A little giggle escaped your lips at his hesitation. "You can say it. It's okay." Then you shook your head. "No. Not always. But I was in a bad way and a different witch took me in. She healed me. And in exchange she spellbound me."

"Spellbound?" Billy felt like he was pressing for information, but he couldn't help it. You were so fascinating to him.

You either didn't see it that way or didn't mind. "Very few witches are born. They're nearly always spellbound." Now your fingers were in his hair, pushing it back to check for any more injuries. It felt wonderful, and he slightly leaned into your touch. Delicately, you sat on his knee, leaning in to check closer. You smelled like lavender. His hand twitched, wanting to rest on your waist, but he resisted.

"When a witch finds a successor, she gives her powers to someone else," you explained, eyes roving over his face. "Then that someone else is spellbound. They take up the burden of witchcraft and practice it to keep the magic alive until they find their successor. Usually when someone is spellbound, they've been an apprentice to that witch for a while. But she was getting older, and she hadn't found anyone and..." you trailed off, looking away. "It was easier to trade favors."

"There's no way to get out of it otherwise?" Billy questioned, searching your eyes.

"It's dangerous," you confessed. "That's when you give the power back to the earth, where it came from. I've looked into it. But in order for the current vessel of power to remain living afterward, the powers have to be more good than evil. And since they're passed down so many generations, and the vessel often doesn't know by who..."

"You can never know how much good there really was," Billy finished, guessing at it. You nodded, and a spark of pride lit in him.

"It's safer to give them to someone else," you concluded. "I haven't found anyone yet. The last town ousted me out before I could. And by the looks of things, I'm not sure I'll find anyone here either."

Billy could feel the deep sorrow in you like a tangible thing. He wanted to ask you more about it, about what had happened for the other witch to find you, about what exactly you did with your possessed power.

Instead, he reached up tentatively, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "You don't want the burden?"

"It's a heavy thing to carry," you said softly, and it tugged at his heart.

"'F course," he whispered, looking between your eyes. His fingers were still on your face. He couldn't resist drawing a line from your cheek to your chin. You let him, staring into his eyes.

"You're beautiful." Billy said it like a prayer.

"That'll be the magic," you half smiled.

He shook his head, thumb tilting your chin up. "No. It's you."

Before he knew it, he was leaning in, lips ghosting yours, almost like a question. And you responded, hands sliding over his shoulders, leaning into him. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and the sensation sent him reeling.

You were nothing short of enchanting.

Lips moving, he could feel the magic running through your veins. There was something electric in your touch, something about you that made him need you like water. It was like there was an ocean roaring inside you that he wanted to drown in.

His fingers grasped the ribbon around your neck, finding the pendant between your breasts and grasping it, using it to gently pull you closer. The ribbon untied, and fell from your neck.

Lips separating, you drew back, leaning your forehead to press against his. "Is this how you treat everyone who heals you?"

Billy was drunk off you, and he wanted another hit. "No." He chased your lips, catching them in another searing kiss. Splaying his fingers on your back, he found a fistful of your dress.

You let him kiss you lazily for a moment, lips dragging down to your neck, then your collarbone. Oh how he loved your collarbone. Nosing against it, he showered a series of soft kisses there.

Then he felt something brush against his leg. Pulling back, he looked down to find a black cat purring as it pawed at his shin. You followed his eyes, smiling slightly. "Sorry...that's Fish. He likes people."

Keeping the hand holding your pendant around your waist, Billy reached the other hand down and scratched Fish's head. "'S alright. Seems like a good fella'."

He could feel you watching him interact with the cat, and you didn't sway your eyes when he lifted his own to meet them. Smiling, he leaned in, pecking your lips once, then twice. That made you smile in turn, and you nudged your nose against him, hands on the sides of his face.

Noticing he was holding your pendant, you uncurled his fingers, tracing the shape of it against his palm. It was an oval, framed by gold. There were three little stars in the center, and you touched each one before folding his fingers over it again. "Keep it."

Billy looked up at you again. "You-?"

Both your hands came to clasp around his. "It's a witch's symbol. How we know each other. But I've been here for weeks and haven't found anybody. And I'm not going to find a successor. Keep it."

He wanted to protest the hopelessness of the statement, your resignation to the fact that you'd be weighed under your powers forever. But you seemed determined.

So, he intertwined your fingers, the pendant pressing between palms. Then he lifted them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. A promise to keep it safe.

Billy kissed your nose, and then breathed, "D'ya feel it?" The pulsing hypnotism that overwhelmed him whenever he looked at you, that sensation that he knew wasn't just the magic residing within you.

You traced runes into the skin of his cheek, pressing your lips there when you were done. "I feel it. This is real power."

Next part

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy bonney #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney imagine #billy the kid fanfic #milliesfishes billy

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charlieisannoying · 10 months ago

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Small snippet on something I'm working on – it will focus on a GN Jedi getting assigned to CF99. I think I'll have a chapter written from the perspective from each member. Enjoy!

Hunter was tired. He could feel a headache slowly blossoming under his skull, burrowing itself deeper and deeper, setting alight every nerve– This was not the right moment for this. He had a mission to do. It was simple, really. They haven't been on the field that long anyways and they were a special case anyways. Their assignments, although they wrecked absolute havoc on the world around them were successes. They were still tasting the small bits of freedom between each missions, still overwhelmed with the fact that this was their life – the four of them against the world. While their... fondness over the regs was tested each and every time they came in contact with them, Commander Cody was a special case. Even Crosshair was silent around that man, his snark nowhere to be found. So when Commander Cody had commed him, letting him know that his pack, his own Clone Force 99, was supposed to get a handler... Well, Hunter was glad he wasn't alone when he received the news. He did not want to be the one to break the news to his brothers. Still. Getting a Jedi General was something even he was supposed to get used to. It's not that he didn't want a superior officer or that he didn't like Jedi (although, truth to be told his experiences with other Jedi that Master Ti were rather... closer to 0 than any other number), but... ... he wanted to keep his brothers safe, close to himself and only himself. He heard through the ever evolving vod grape-vine that the Jedi were kind and understanding and they were all normal beings, not gods. His mind told him he was exaggerating, that it was in his very nature to protect his brothers... But would his Jedi not only understand, but also listen to Tech's need to always fix something and explain and research? Will they leave Crosshair be and just exist in the presence of his brothers after a particular rough mission? Will they see how smart Wrecker is or will they just see his bulk and write him off. Well. Clones were nothing if not adaptable.

#charlie writes #the bad batch #tbb fic #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader

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spiralwriting · 1 year ago

Text

Promises

(look at me being productive, woo hoo)

Promises should never be broken.

Despite the knots that tightened sickeningly in my stomach and the salty river that threatened to spill from my eyes with each passing second, that sentiment circled my brain, flashing like a neon sign.

No matter how much it hurt.

No matter how much I wish I could be anywhere but here.

A promise is a promise, no matter the pain it causes.

So in spite of the dread settling in my heart, I face the man I've come to visit- the man I promised to visit.

This is far from the first time I've sat on this decrepit old chair across from the equally uncared for table, but the white hot glare it reflects never ceases to scolded my eyes; exposing them to the ugly truth of the situation. A Truth I'd trade for anything: a miracle perhaps. A miracle I'd use to travel back in time, one I'd use to prevent this all from happening. How? I don't know, but I'm sure I'd find a way.

If only I had the chance.

Today is particularly grim, so grim in fact that I wish I hadn't even bothered rolling out of bed this morning. Although, I wouldn't miss today for the world, even if it causes me unparalleled amounts of agony.

I can't miss today, it might be my last opportunity to say goodbye, because I don't think I can bring myself to come back and face him if things don't end up going well.

"You didn't have to come today..." His voice, soft, yet tense. "I know this must be hard for you..." he feels it too, the pressure in the room.

Sighing, I shake my head, "No matter how I feel, today is important. I want to be here for you before shit goes down."

This afternoon, the final trial, the verdict. It's terrifying, but it's unavoidable. The gang has been together through thick and thin, today is no different. Currently, there have been no hints towards what might happen, so it's completely up in the air, which makes it that much more unnerving. Ashley is supposed to be giving a statement to the court, which is interesting, seeing as nobody had asked any of us to do so.

"Well I'm glad you're here," a small, feble smile spreads across his scarred face "I will admit, I was really happy when the guard told me you did end up coming."

I can't help the smile that creeps onto my face, knowing that I made his day a little brighter during this bleak time. "Good news for you then, I'm not going anywhere, love."

A yawn suddenly overtakes that smile, drowsiness swallowing my body. "You look exhausted," concern shadows his face "you haven't been sleeping right again, have you?"

I run a hand through my hair, averting my gaze to look at the dull concrete walls of the room instead of his rather unimpressed expression.

"Don't worry about it, just a couple of late nights." My eyes return to meet his, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"Mmhmm."

I can't help but laugh bitterly at his disbelief. I'm aware that he knows me far too well to fall for that blatant lie, and he knows it to.

"Let's be real here, the words 'sleep schedule' haven't been in my vocabulary since I was 12 and they released clumpy."

From the serious look on his face, he didn't appear to like my joke too much. "Has this whole thing been stressing you out? It's okay if it has, i understand that but it shouldn't stop you from functioning. You still need to take care of yourself-"

"Relax! It's nothing to do with this, it's just work n' shit." Lier.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He sighs in defeat, wether he believes me or not, he doesn't push further. "How have you been anyways? Up to anything interesting?"

I think for a moment, resting my head lazily in my hand, whilst the other traces imaginary shapes across the fridgid table. "No, not really. Life's been pretty boring since we lost most of the group." My eyes narrow "I spend most of my time working now, trying to get enough money to get myself a place." Head shifting to look at him once again, my hand stops and relaxes. "When I'm not working my ass off, I'm usually here." Or drinking my life away in the dark abis my room.

He sits back in his chair, tilting his head slightly, something I've always loved about him, even now, it's so... Cute. "When's the last time you spoke to ash?"

Mirroring his actions, my face falls in distain. "Not recently, that's for sure. I've talked to her about all this, but she's certain none of it is real, that were just deluded by childhood fantasies." A scoff falls from my mouth "So I haven't bothered with her."

"I know it's frustrating, she's expressed the same feelings towards me when she's been here, but you can't isolate yourself like this." He moves forward, holding his chained hand out for mine. I oblige. "You're gonna end up alone, and that's not what you deserve."

My grip on his hands tighten as I attempt to conceal my frustration, "I know, I don't want to end up alone, it's just so... Ugh!" Ripping my hands from his own, I rub my face, aggravated "I just don't understand how after everything she still doesn't believe us. After Larry, after Todd, after..." My gaze falters and falls to the table "... You."

"Her friends are getting hurt, and I don't understand how she just doesn't care." I burry my face in my hands.

After everything we've been through together, her complete disregard for anything I, or anyone else has to say, is pushing me to the edge. I know I'm not insane, despite what she might think.

"Don't say that," guilt consumes me at the somber tone of his voice "she does care, in her own way, she just... doesn't understand. She's still out friend, remember that."

I peek at him through my fingers, he's leaned forward again, brows knitted together and sad look in his eyes. He's hurt by her disbelief, I can see it, but like always, he sees the best in her, like he does with everyone. Like he did with me. He's so sweet, so kind, and I'm once again brought back to how. How could this happen? I believe him when he says he had no choice, but why. Why sal? Why the most genuine, most loving man on this earth? It's not fair.

But when has life ever been fair to him?

My head falls forward, hands dropping and hair covering my shameful face, "Yeah, sorry, you're right. I'm just frustrated, you know? It's hard to understand where she's coming from but... She probably feels the same way, huh?"

"Yeah, she does. Can't blame her, she was never as involved as we were in the cult."

The guilt falls away with the force of a waterfall, replaced with uncontrollable rage at the mention of the cult. They caused all of this. I haven't thought about, nor touched anything to do with it since the incident. Why would I when all it does it cause harm and heartache to those who get involved? As soon as this whole thing is over, I don't plan on sticking around long.

"Alright Mr. Fisher, times up." A guard saunters lazily into the room, looking at a sheet of paper. "you've got an appointment with Dr. Enon before your trial."

Blankly, I stare at the man that interrupted our conversation. The world around me begins to dissolve as I realise the time that approaches.

I rise to my feet, legs feeling numb, and as if I could collapse at any moment. My steps feel staggered as I make my way out of the melancholy room. In contrast to the dull, lifeless room I previously sat in, the seemingly endless halls are pristine, bright and somewhat less depressing. Though, it still feels devoid of life.

My body turns and takes a step forward towards sal.

"I'll see you in the court room, okay?" My hands caress his mask, fingers running smoothly across his scruffy hair. Guiding his face up, I lay the ghost of a kiss on his forehead, keeping it there for a moment. "I love you, Sal." A whisper, a secret, a promise, only for us to hear.

A relaxed exhale releases loudly through the holes of his prosthetic, head leaning against my chin slightly. "I love you too..."

"Come on, let's go!"

I glare at the guard overtop of the mop of messy blue hair, releasing his face and taking a miniscule step backwards. A smile sits painfully along my face as we say our farewells and I watch him turn and make his way down the hall.

I stand there for what feels like hours before he finally rounds a corner.

My face falls.

#sal fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #fanfic #part 1 #sal x reader #angst #tw death and shit #fanfiction #sally face fanfiction

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let1zya · 29 days ago

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Heyy,

So I wrote a small fanfic with Ctimene(my beloved)

This is basically a prequel to my first epic fanfic. It's before Ody tells Polites' mom about what happened to her son.

I hope you enjoy!! <3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"One lie and six hundred lives gone"

It's not your fault,my son" Odysseus reassured his once baby boy,now all-grown up nontheless,"you did nothing wrong" he said,putting a hand on his son's shoulder, "your aunt...she's...just mad at everyone." he continued, "She's mad at life, mad at the gods...everyone but you,I'm sure of that."

"I just wanted to help,father.I guess my timing was wrong.I am to blame for that."

"Telemachus," the grey-bearded man said firmly, squeezing the young man's shoulder, "You're not. Trust me,you have absolutely no reason to beat yourself up." He could still see his boy was not fully convinced and so, he insisted,

"I mean it. Would I ever lie to you?"

Despite this being one of the first bonding moments between them, having conversations like these and such , Telemachus had no doubt about his father being serious.

"No,father," he looked up,his lips curled up in a gentle smile, "I believe you."

"Very well,my boy." Odysseus pulled him into a side hug. Telemachus' heart filled with glee as he heard the words <<my boy>> coming out of his father's mouth,two of the words he had always longed to hear from him since he was first told one of the many stories about the great king of Ithaca.The boy left for training with his new mentor soon after and although Odysseus and Athena's bond was no longer the same and probably would never be, the man was still glad to see the excitement in his son's eyes, remembering how he had felt the same adrenaline when training with the goddess for the first few times.

Odysseus sighed heavily as he passed through the palace's halls. It had been two weeks since he had share the sad news to his sister and his youngest comrade's mother. It had been more than a month since he'd told 598 families that their father, uncle, brother or husband had died. Some of them, he'd told died during the war. Sure,it was still death, a terrible fate with no point of return, but at least they would know their loved one had died in the toughest part, the part where, sadly, dying isn't considered strange. The journey back home was supposed to be filled with pride and desire to finally have made it back to homeland. At least, that's how he had imagined it , back when all six hundred men were right there by his side.

He'd told the truth to his son: he would never lie to him. He wished he could have stopped at <<never lie>> , but he couldn't. He had lied to all those families, he had lied to his sister. He'd been preparing all morning for the meeting with his sister, he had done everything he could to be ready but...

"Odysseus...w-where is my husband?"

but it had been useless.

His mind had gone blank, all the words he'd wanted to say hadn't come out of his mouth no matter how hard he had tried. As tears streamed down their faces,he had finally told her...

"He...there...there was a storm,he fought with all his might...he loved you."

It was nothing, a mere attempt to make the pain a bit more bearable with a remind that Eurylochus loved her more than anything. At least,that wasn't a lie. Their love was true...but it was now a memory,wasn't it? Ctimene could no longer greet her husband, she would no longer be waiting for him, imagining how her lover would at last come home, the warmth of his kiss and love the same as before he'd left.

The scream she had let out was blood-curdling to say the least.

"You...why didn't you help him?" she had asked, her voice a mix of rage and pure desperation.

"My Eurylochus" her voice now broken.

"Go home, go back to your wife and your son" were the last thing she'd had the capacity to say before chocking on her tears once more. Her voice had grown spiteful. He had had to leave.

Penelope's attempt to bring her confort was vain. The one of his favorite and only nephew was unsurpringly unwelcomed.

Odysseus could only hope his sister could somehow find something to heal her heart. Hers were emotional scars, the most difficult pains to mend.

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Tags: @rice-cake-teen10 @hypermoonlover

#epic the musical #odysseus #ctimene #eurylochus #fanfiction #poor Ctimene

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the-marvelclub · 1 year ago

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While you were sleeping | Bucky Barnes

Part 3.

read part 2 here series masterlist

Summary: Reader is in love with the mysterious man who goes every week to the bar where she works. When one night she witnesses a fight that leaves the man in a coma and he´s taken to the hospital, she is mistaken for his fiancée, unaware that the mysterious man is Steve Rogers himself. With no family and after losing everything in The Blip, reader becomes captivated with Steve's friends and their unconditional love for her that she can't bring herself to tell the truth. Things get complicated when she finds herself falling for Steve's best friend, Bucky.

Taglist: @rosecentury @ozwriterchick

"So do you have a date for the wedding yet?" you choked on the wine you were drinking, Wanda's question taking you by surprise. You were now sitting, eating the food in front of you. You had been chatting happily for the last 30 minutes, surprised by how easy it was to talk to them and not bring up your relationship (or lack there of) with Steve, well, until now.

"Actually, we haven't talked about it" you replied leaving the wine glass on the table, your voice finally coming back to you. Wanda nodded seemingly satisfied with your vague answer and continued eating next to you.

You focused your eyes on the food looking for the right way to continue the conversation. The determination to tell them the truth that you had hours before seemed to disappear. It had been years since you had felt part of something. Sure, you had your apartment and your job, Joe was the closest thing you had to a friend, if you could call him that. But that was it. The events after the blip changed everyone including you, people close themselves off, and although many had returned the world was different, everyone could tell. But for this moment, being there felt right.

"I always thought he'd end up with Sharon" Sam commented, talking more to himself than anything else.

Who is Sharon?

Natasha threw him a pea which caused Sam to let out a squeal of protest. "Well, he obviously didn’t” she replied giving him a murderous look before returning to you “I'm glad it was you."

"What I MEANT is that I'm surprised there still women out there who are romantically interested in the elderly." He defended himself giving you wink.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

"Who knows, maybe there's still hope for you after all, Buck." Tony said, standing on the bar next to the table pouring himself some whiskey. The comment causing Bucky to roll his eyes but he didn't look angry.

"I've never had a problem in that department." he stated, not seeming to be bothered by this conversation at all.

The previous car ride with Bucky from Steve’s apartment seemed to last an eternity. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you he took the long way home, something about him screamed ‘disbelief’. Of course he used the moment to asked you a lot of questions about your supposed relationship with his best friend, you knew he was probably taking mental notes of every lie that came out of your mouth, you tried your best to do the same hoping it wouldn't all come back to bite you in the ass. You knew what he was good at, you had never been one of those people who idolized the avengers, not before, not during or even after the blip, you knew who they were from the news or from what your co-workers talked about. But you certainly knew what Bucky Barnes was good at, you had read about the winter soldier in a history book you had been flipping through while waiting for your favorite coffee order.

Steve Rogers' best friend, womanizer, his supposed death, what he been through and his relationship with the others avengers. You'd be lying if you said you didn’t find him somewhat intriguing.

“Well, we can all agree that 4 months is pretty fast for an engagement" Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He pushed his now empty plate aside and leaned back against the chair, his chest seemed to rise as he crossed his arms over it and a small, almost unnoticeable, smile crossed his face. "I bet you know a lot about him" He cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at you "like for example, his favorite movie”.

You knew it wasn't just a statement, he was asking you. Of course he was his best friend but apparently he hadn't seen Steve either for the last two years. People change. Well if that's the way he wanted to play it, you were going to use your cards right.

"He doesn't like watching TV" you said with confidence mimicking his posture and crossing your arms over your chest. For the first time since you ran into him, you held his gaze for more than just a couple of seconds. If you wanted him to believe you, you had to play the part.

"Favorite musician?" He asked quickly ignoring your previous reply. If Bucky was being honest with himself, he liked the nervous look you’d have on your face every time he looked at you, but this time he couldn't see anything but your defiant stare.

"Marvin Gaye" You mentally went over everything that was on Steve's nightstand when you went to pick up his clothes, remembering the old cds he had "and the Ramones."

"Book?"

"1776"

"What are you doing, James?" Nat’s stern voice next to you made you look away from him, for a moment you had forgotten they were there, "what is this about?"

"Nothing, nothing, just curious" He simply replied before getting up and heading to the bar for another drink. You let out a sigh of relief as the others continued their chatting. You were about to take your last sip of wine when you noticed Wanda's gaze fixed on you, you smiled softly at her and returned your attention to the food in front of you.

"And what do your parents think about him?" Tony said after a while, the food was long gone and now everyone was getting more drinks "I bet they're very happy for you."

You gulped grabbing your dirty plates taking them to the dishwasher distracting yourself from the question.

“They passed away” you replied quietly "I never knew my mother and my father died of cancer one year after I disappeared on the blip, so I never saw him again. It’s just me”.

“Oh” Tony looked at you apologetically “I’m sorry”.

“It was a long time ago” you brushed it off, not trying to make the evening uncomfortable. You close the dishwasher and turn to Nat who was going to take you to see Steve. Before you left the room you caught Bucky’s stare, only this time this one was soft, almost kind.

——

Natasha had taken you to see Steve, who remained in the same state, if you didn't know what was really happening to him, you would think he was just sleeping. His cheeks were still full of color. You'd been able to notice the little details that adorned his face, and yet Joe's voice wouldn't leave your head, he really look a lot like Ryan. According to what you had been told, it was all a matter of waiting, he was a super human after all.

An hour later, Bucky had offered to drive you back to your apartment. This time the ride was shorter, if he wanted to investigate further about his suspicions about you, he didn't. He kept quiet for the entire ride. Maybe he was just tired or maybe finding out about your loss had made him identify with you, if only for a moment.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" he finally spoke, ending the comfortable silence that had formed between you two since you left the compound. You were walking down the small hallway in your building.

His kind tone had taken you by surprise "Yes, everyone was very friendly, thank you". You replied pulling your keys out of your bag, the door to your apartment in front of you.

He let out a big sigh as he leaned against the wall next to it, hands in his pockets, while he waited for you to enter. He almost seemed shy, nothing like the Bucky you had met hours earlier.

"Look, I'm sorry if I gave you a hard time" he finally said closing his eyes for a moment before turning to look at you.

You stopped.

"Oh, don’t worr-"

"The truth is that it’s been a long time since Steve told me anything really, it's not your fault" he interrupted you and by the way his voice failed you noticed he was having a hard time talking about it. You could feel the horrible sense of guilt flooding through your body. You didn't want him to feel bad. "I'm glad you two had each other and you were taking care of him." Well, now you really felt guilty. The imposter syndrome was really kicking this time. You gave him a half smile entering your apartment.

"I didn't tell you before but… thank you for saving his life, not everyone would have been brave enough to do what you did." You turned to him, he was leaning against the door frame looking at you only this time you didn’t feel strained with his blue eyes. "I can see why he’s attracted to you” he simply said giving you one final look before turning and walking away. If he only knew.

"Goodnight, Bucky" you whispered watching him go, but this time he didn’t hear you.

A small continuous rustling sound made you wake up from your sleep. Opening your eyes to a completely dark room, you were about to reach out to turn on the lamp at the side of your bed when a cold material covered your mouth and the smell of leather filled your senses.

What seemed like a figure of a man was on top of you, his gloved hand was over your mouth trying to restrain you.

Terror began to invade your body. Oh god, he’s going to hurt me. You twisted and pulled your arms trying to free yourself but he was much stronger than you. He didn’t budge an inch. Feeling the adrenaline rush through your body, you didn't even realize that you had managed to let go of your arm, without thinking you dug your fingers into his eyeballs, and your knee hit his groin, knocking his breath out of him and making his grip weaken for a moment. You jumped out of bed, turning on the lamp and bringing it to the floor along with you as the man pounced on you again.

The room filled with the dim yellow light and that's when you saw him; an unknown man with black hair and tan skin loomed over you, he was dressed just like the men of the alley. You let out a high pitched scream before the man slammed your head hard against the floor.

Your vision blurred and a high pitched noise rang in your ears leaving you dazed. Before you knew it, the man was no longer on top of you but lying on your side, his face was in pain and a metal arm was around his neck.

Bucky.

That’s all you remember before you pass out.

#bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel blog #marvel fic

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valdiis · 6 months ago

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FFxiv Site Write #1: Steer

((Ah yes, Site Write. That time of year when I fool my followers into thinking this shitpost blog contains FFXIV content.))

The Shirogane manor house was a common gathering place for the monster hunters of Nightingale Company. Sure, everyone had their own places now and they didn't need this home for wayward souls - but somehow folks kept gravitating back to it anyway. Even Aeluan had his own little house on the beach in La Noscea. Although the manor held some bad memories for him now, it held plenty of good too. And it had the easiest access to Arli's cooking.

Aeluan was in the middle of availing himself of some of that cooking - leftovers in the coldbox - when Shev Mhalikh walked into the kitchen.

"If you're looking for the curry," Aeluan said as he closed the oven, "it's going in my belly in ten minutes. You're too late."

"Aww!" Shev groaned. "But Arli's curry!"

"Too. Late."

"I'll wrestle ya for it."

Aeluan gave Shev a squinty eyed look. At one time, he'd have taken that offer in a heartbeat, because even though Shev had been beefy, he was much smaller than Aeluan. That was less so the case now. Add in the tall ears and he actually topped Aelu by a few ilms.

"No deal. I got to it first, it's mine."

Shev crossed his - still beefy - arms across his - just as beefy - chest and pouted. Nevertheless, he watched as Aeluan dug out a bowl and a spoon and a fresh few handfuls of rice to cook on the stove.

Aeluan filled a pot with water and set about cooking rice to put his warmed-up curry on. For a few moments, the two friends stood in the kitchen in companionable silence. Aelu, for his part, was working up his nerve. He had a question. One that had been burning in his breast for days now and he could think of no one else to ask it.

"Hey Shev?" he blurted out as he stirred the rice gently.

"Yeah, Blue?" By this time, Shev was leaning a hip on the counter, arms still folded, as he watched his friend cook.

"You're into polyamory." It was a bald yet true statement. Aeluan didn't see Shev roll his eyes at it. "So. Hypothetically. What would you do if you came across two people already in love who showed interest in you?"

A brow shot up nearly as high as Shev's erect ears. "Tha's not a question I expected from ya. Why d'ya ask?"

Aelu quite studiously did not look up from his rice. "Just curious. What would you do?"

"I don't know," Shev answered honestly. "I've never come across a situation like tha'. Each one's unique."

"I know. Besides, I'm just asking what you'd do. Being a polyamorous person and all."

Shev studied Aeluan for a long moment. "Hypothetically," he deadpanned. He didn't believe it for a second. For his part, Aeluan didn't notice that fact. He was oblivious to Shev's disbelief. He was glad, though, that he didn't have ears like an Elezen to blush and give away his thoughts. Truth be told, the answer was extremely important to him. As his friend suspected, it was not a hypothetical question.

"Mmhm."

"I'd really have to get to know 'em an' see if it was a real interest, y'know?"

Aeluan stopped stirring for a second too long.

"Who'd ya meet?"

And that tell-tale blush that would've shown on ears (if he had them) found purchase on his tanned cheeks instead. "Nobody. It's just hypothetical," Aeluan said as he tried to steer the conversation away from reality.

"Mmhm." A moment of silence passed. "Is this abou' tha' courtesan Kismet mentioned? He said somethin' abou' you takin' a fruit basket somewhere?"

The big Raen made an undignified squeaking noise, like a mouse being trod upon. It sounded a bit like "No!"

Shev chuckled and shook his head. "Talk it out with 'em. Communicate. Tha's the biggest part. Make sure everybody's on th' same page, y'know?"

"But what if they belong together?"

"An' ya think ya wouldn't?"

"Hypothetically."

Shev snorted softly. "It's yer road t' walk, Blue. Ya won't know 'til ya talk it out with 'em."

The little timer next to the oven dinged and Aelu set aside the rice in favor of pulling out the reheated curry pot.

"Are ya sure there's not enough t' share?"

"I've seen how much you eat, Shev!"

(Shev belongs to @chocoblep!)

#FFxivWrite2024 #FFxivWrite #FFXIV #Aeluan Hoshinata

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melanieph321 · 1 year ago

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Ruben Dias x Reader - Fake Love Part 4/8

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

18+

Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Nothing more nothing less. But following an accident whistle vacation in Dubai she somehow makes her boyfriend believe that she does somthing else for a living, something that earns her way more money than she has. Her boyfriend, Ruben, is just happy to have found someone who understands him so well, someone who doesn't want him for his money since money isn't an issue for neither reader or himself. Or so thinks. Would finding out the truth ruin their newfound relationship? Readers thinks so, and does everything to keep up the lie, although it has some bad people from the middle east looking for her.

Enjoy!

"Taxi!"

You called for one outside of the airport in London. You were tired from the journey and longed for a hot shower back at your apartment.

"Taxi!" You shouted, quite desperate for one to pull up.

"Y/N, chill." Alicia said. "Our ride will be here in a minute."

"Our ride?" You frowned.

Alicia nodded, phone still pressed to her ear. "I'm consulting the Siddiq family right now, see if they can send us a...."

Alicia's eyes widened with terror as you lunged for her phone, forcing her to hang up.

"Whatta fuck Y/N!"

"Are you crazy?" You hissed

"Am I crazy, are you crazy Y/N? Give me back my phone for fuck sakes."

You held her phone behind your back, refusing to return it. "Alicia we are not doing this. We can not continue spending somone elses money. It has to end. Right now."

"Why? They owe us don't they?"

"No Alicia, they owe us nothing, especially not you." It was not her leg that grilled in the fire. "The Siddiq family has shown us enough kindness then we deserve, this will not go on any longer, agreed?"

She didn't agree. However, she could tell how serious you were about this. "Fine." She said, stretching out a hand, demanding her phone back.

"Who are you gonna call?"

"Well, it's not Ghostbusters, is it? I'm calling a taxi."

You handed her back the phone, a sly smile on your face.

The days passed quickly there on, like your time in Portugal never happened. The burn on your leg healed but roughly, the skin not as smooth on that part of your leg. The only times it bothered you was when you got out of the shower, standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror. However, no one was gonna see you naked, at least not for some time. Yes, you felt guilty for giving Ruben a fake number, but you held your ground when it came to not live off of some rich business man in Dubai. It was the only reason Ruben was interested in you in the first place, because he thought you were rich like him. But no more lies. Meeting Ruben was a lie and even though falling for him felt real it was built on a lie and no relationship could ever flourish from somthing like that, right?"

"Miss?"

"Yes, Simon?"

You snapped out of your daydreams, peering over your desk to see one of your kindergarten students with a pen up their nose."

"It's stuck." He said.

You sighed, rising from behind your desk. "Let's go to the nurses office shall we?"

"Okay."

You had one of your colleagues come in and cover for you whilst you escorted Simon to the school nurse. Yes, your life was really back to it's glamorous self.

"Hey, Y/N? Need a lift?"

It was Byron, seen crossing the school parking lot to get to you. You were really not in the mood, still adjusting being back to work. All you wanted to do was go home and lay in your bath.

"Sure Byron, why not."

He was considered a friend, although you know he never really got over your brief hook up in university.

"The kids are glad to have you back."

"Oh, thanks Byron. That's nice of you to say."

He drove you home the long way, avoiding the highway that would only take you ten minutes to arrive.

"Not only the kids." He added. "I missed you too."

Your smile was stiff, but at least it was something.

"When Nina told me what happened to you in Dubai I got so worried that I had to take a day off just to calm myself down, not to worry the kids that their teacher wasn't coming back to work."

"That sweet of you Byron. But it wasn't a serious thrid degree burn, my skin heald pretty quickly." Your boss Nina made it seemed like you lost a limb or something. Mainly because Alicia's dramatic Tik Tok's had people assuming the worst. Even your parents called you in concern after your brothers came across one of Alicia's vlogs from the hospital in Dubai.

"Well, I'm just glad you're back."

"Thanks Byron."

He was a sweet guy, not relationship sweet, but a descent human being sweet. You appreciate how much he cared for you as a friend.

"I have no problems giving you a ride to and from work, I mean we're basically on the same schedule."

"Thanks Byron, but I don't think that will be necessary."

Alot of people had offered to help you out, even your boss suggested you'd cut back on your hours a work, however, it wasn't necessary. You needed something to take your mind off things. With things you meat, your agonizing thoughts of what could have been between you and Ruben.

Arriving home, you grabbed yourself a light snack from the fridge whilst waiting for your hot tub to fill with water. Once it did you, stripped yourself of your clothes, slipping I to the scolding water, allowing the heat to relax your muscles. You did not stay relaxed for long though, seeing as there was an incoming facetime call from your phone. "What?" You grunted, since now was not the time to hear about the latest gossip at Alicia's workplace.

"Hey, gorgeous,"

You stiffened at the sound of his voice.

"Ruben?"

You were looking into the screen of your phone, in disbelief of who was staring back at you. It was Ruben, with his hair sprouting in every direction as he looked to lay back in a bed, one arm draped behind his neck. "Um...hi." You stuttered, not really sure how any of this was possible.

Ruben smiled "I just wanted to see how you're doing and see if you're missing me as much as I'm missing you."

"Um, how...?"

"Did I get your real number?" He chuckled.

Heat rose to your face.

"Well, after calling "your number" over a hundred times, Fabio let me get in touch with your friend who told me what was going on."

"Alicia gave you this number?"

"Mhm." He nodded, tossing what looked to be a grape, into his mouth. "She told me that you thought that I wasn't that into you, that perhaps I was only out to screw you over or something."

"She did what?"

"It's ridiculous, I agree. How do you even come up with something like that? I mean you're the one who screwed me over by letting me call a fake number like an idiot."

There was a jab in your stomach as his tone was serious, laced with sincere hurt. "Ruben I'm so sorry. I didn't..."

"Let's not play the blame game." He waved. "Your friend made it clear that you haven't been dating for a while and that your game might be a bit stiff."

"Pardon?"

Ruben laughed.

"I am not stiff."

"I believe you." He said, although he had trouble talking between laughs. "I mean you look pretty relaxed in that bathtub back there."

You gasped when you realized. "Oh my god. Ruben I'm...." Embarrassed. You were terrible embaresssed, sinking deeper into the water to cover yourself. You and Ruben hadn't talked for days and the first thing he sees is you slipping him a nipple.

"It's okay, Y/N, really. The view is great from here."

"Oh shut up."

You put the phone away, letting Ruben have a good view of your bathroom ceiling. The tub needed more water, and bubbles, lots of of bubbles.

"There you are." He exclaimed, once you returned to the screen, now neck deep in in the water. "Thought I lost you for a sec."

"Ruben, maybe now is not the time." You said, tormentented by how stupid you must come across to him.

"Y/N." He said, his voice now restrained.

"What?" You muttered, trying to stare at anything but the screen.

"Look at me."

Your eyes looked up, meeting Ruben's kind gaze.

"You're good, okay. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by calling unexpectedly. I just...." He sighed, a hand running through his already messy hair. "I can't seem to get you out of my mind."

You sunk deeper into the water, biting down on your lip. "Me too. I can't stop thinking about you either."

"Well, when can we meet?" He seemed excited that your feelings were mutual.

"Ruben, I'm not sure I'll be going back to Portugal anytime soon. I mean I have a job to do and..."

"Y/N." He said. No. Chuckled.

"What's so funny?" You frowned

"You really don't watch football do you?"

"What do you mean?"

Ruben sat up in bed, showing off the tracksuit he was wearing. "You said you've heard of Manchester United, no?"

"Yes, the English team that you told me played in the Premier League."

"Right. Well I play for their arche rivals Manchester City, meaning I live in Manchester, England."

"Wait what?"

"Yeah."

"So, you're not from Portugal?"

He chuckled. "I'm from Portugal Y/N, I was born and raise there. But just like you I was just on vacation. I got back to Manchester yesterday."

"So what you're saying is that we're both in England as we speak?"

"Yes. And my team has fixtures in London all the time, meaning I'll be able to come see you between games."

"Right."

The problem was that you had once again lied to Ruben when he asked you were in England you lived. You figured London sounded more suitable abode for a business woman, not Chells Way, Stevenage.

"Y/N, you alright?"

The downside about facetime was that your emotions were all on display. Ruben clearly caught your reaction to his offer and it was not what he had expected.

"Of course, there is no pressure for us to meet." He said, clearing his throat. "I just thought, that it was something that we both wanted."

"I want to meet." You nodded, although your voice betrayed you. "I just...my job, you know?" It was another lie. You were piling lie upon lie on this fake love of yours. Nevertheless, Ruben ate it all up, nodding understandingly. "I get it."

He was so kind. He didn't deserve this from you, from anyone.

"Ruben?" You whispered, following a moment spent in silence.

"Yes."

"I really missed you."

A muscle jerked in the corner of his lips. "I missed you too."

"Tell me." You sighed, leaning back against the tub, splashing water around yourself. "Tell me how much you've missed me."

Ruben froze for a brief moment, seeing you redirect the camera angle in a way that revealed more of your body.

"Alot." He gulped, watching you dip a hand between your legs.

"Yeah? Tell me more."

He couldn't see all of you through the murky water. But as the layers of bubbles disappeared with your slow shifts, the swell of your breast resurfacing.

"Oh, baby don't do this to me." Ruben's head fell back against his pillows as he too adjusted his camera angles. You watched him slip a hand down his sweatpants and stroke whatever he was hiding in there. "I missed you so much, wishing you were here, with me." He moaned, chest heaving up and down with his heavy breathing.

"Ruben, please. Tell me what you want to do to me." You up the pace of the movement between you legs. You we drawing small circles against your clit, the sensation sending chocks of lightning to your body's nerve endings.

"I want to fuck you, hard." He groaned.

"Yeah, and?"

"Fuck you hard and watch your tittes bounce when you ride me."

"Yes, and?" You were squinting your eyes, primitive moans leaving your mouth, echoing throughout your bathroom.

"And..." He grunted on the edge of something. His movements down his pants were faster than yours, unable to contain himself.

"And, Ruben? Please tell me."

"Baby, I can't. I'm close." Ruben's camera shook with the bouncing of his bed. You watch him please himself, please himself to the image of you.

"Me too baby, me too." You arched your back in the tub, one of your legs going over the edge, opening yourself up wider. "Look at me baby, watch me come for you."

He seemed unable to multitask, having to slow down as not to make himself come before you. He watched you please yourself to the point of screaming his name, you're fingers buried deep inside of you.

"Fuck." He groaned, staining his bedsheets with the erruption of his cock.

"That felt good." You smiled, regaining your breath, coming down from the high. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Me neither." Ruben said, no longer in his bed. He looked to be in a small bathroom, washing his hands. "Sametime tomorrow?"

You shook your head, unable to hide your smile. "Goodbye Ruben."

He smiled, a cheeky smile. "Goodbye Y/N."

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